#Loud House x Reader

[heinouscolette]

Study Muffin

Genderbent!Loud Siblings x Reader

Linka groans from the sight of her paper. Her test was marked with an F. She rests her head on the desk, defeated. “I don't get it, Claudia. Usually, I'm a good student but lately it's been all C's and D's and now an F.”

Claudia grabbed Linka’s test paper and grimaced at it. “Ugh, and a frowny face too. Girl, I cannot.” Claudia’s reply made Linka groan even more, disturbing others around them. “If I don't turn this around, I could fail fifth grade!”

“Linka, you can't! If I go to middle school without you, I could fall in with the wrong social group, and get frosted lips, and start being into bubble nails." Claudia shivered.

Linka just stared at her best friend blankly almost lost hope but she remembered she knew someone who could get her to tutor.

That is… no other than Levi!

“No.” Levi refused while staring blankly at his sister. The two siblings are at home. Linka approached her brother the first thing after she came home from school.

“But, Levi!” Linka whined, Levi is the only one who could help her right now as he is the prodigy intellectually among her brothers. With no way out, she tried to do puppy dog eyes at him to try and persuade her younger brother to give in and help her.

“Cute, but you really thought that would work on me? Sorry, Link. Unfortunately I am completely booked. I got math with Lars on Mondays, geology with Lynn on Tuesdays, finger painting with Leon on Wednesdays, et cetera et cetera." He showed Linka his schedule for the rest of the month which made the girl sigh.

“Oh, since you did the puppy eye thing, I’ll give you an advice. I've heard through the tutoring grapevine that some high school students tutor for extra credit.” With that, Levi turned to walk away from Linka.

“Hey, you said the puppy eye thing didn’t work!”

“Oh, pish-posh.” Levi grinned and left. At a distance, he could be heard yelling at Loni about being tardy with the Pre-Cal tutoring session.

Your phone dinged as someone sent you a message about being interested of booking you as a tutor. Finally, the time has come! You’ve been growing anxious about being a tutor. Although this isn’t the first time teaching another student, it’s still nerve-wracking since it’s a stranger this time.

It really wasn’t your idea to offer tutoring sessions but your friend suggested that it might be a good idea to build an image for college applications in the future.

You opened the message and found that you would be tutoring a fifth grader since she’s bound to flunk if she continues to fail the remedial. Your body relaxed a little knowing the lessons would be a bit easier to teach and nothing could go wrong.

You ringed the door bell to what you assumed the Loud Residence as this was the address the tutee gave you. Within a minute, a young girl with striking white hair opened the door for you and gave you a welcoming smile. “Hello, is this the Loud Residence?” you gave her your professional smile you practiced prior.

Her eyes glimmered and gave you an affirming nod. “Yep! You must be my tutor. I am Linka.”

After introducing yourself, she led you to their dining table and set up her textbooks. “I really appreciate this, (Y/n). I have a big multi-subject test coming up, and I need to ace it.”

You smiled at her, “I’m sure you’ll be able to ace it, but after thorough assessments from our sessions of course. So, I’ll do my best to help you.”

“And I thought that angels only exist in heaven.” Linka dramatically says while clenching her fist on top of her chest. You only laughed at her.

“So, I'm like, if you literally don't know the difference between rugby and football— Oh, Linka brought a new girl friend around.” A male voice spoke which caught both of your attention. His tone was a bit playful.

“Loki, get out! Can’t you see we’re studying here?” Linka hissed but the boy never faltered. “Oh really? This is our kitchen, Link. I can do whatever I want.” You turned to look at him as you can feel his presence between you and Linka. He ruffled Linka’s hair, satisfied at annoying his sister.

Must be a family of blondes. Loki has a common blonde hair compared to Linka. He also has a light stubble that complimented that growing smirk of his. He suddenly turned his head and made eye contact with you. “Don’t ogle too much, it’ll be harder to concentrate.” He grinned at you, but instead of being flustered, his comment only irked you.

“Wipe that smirk off your face before I do it for you.” You undoubtedly replied not thinking it through. You only came to your senses when it suddenly became quiet and Loki looked at you dumbfounded. Your cheeks became flushed and felt embarrassed. What were you doing in your first day of tutoring?!

You hanged your head low, mentally facepalming yourself. You’re sure Loki caught on about your reply. “Yeah, right! Give him an uppercut!” Linka instigated.

Yeah… an uppercut…

While looking down, you saw that Loki dropped his phone and handed it to him. “Loki, you dropped your phone.” However, when you looked up, you’re sure that his cheeks were tinted pink or maybe your eyes were just playing with you.

His silence broke Linka from her uppercut suggestions. “Loki, are you okay?”

Loki rubs the nape of his neck and trying to build “I uh… I am… I’m fi—“

“I heard a goose! I call dibs!" A young blonde came into view holding a net, however upon seeing you, he was a bit confused. “What’s a pretty stranger doing in this house?!”

“A what?” Another boy came into the kitchen. He’s wearing a clay mask and has cucumber slices in his eyes. He removes the slices and made eye contact with you. “AAH! MY FACE!”

Yep, a family of blondes. Your claim was disproven immediately when the rest of the siblings came into the kitchen probably curious about the commotion.

Ah… there are lots of them.

All of them started talking at the same time. Unfortunately, you can’t comprehend any of this as their voices became inaudible. You just stared at them amused of how this family caters a lot of siblings.

The one who cleansed his on-going skincare came back and greeted you. “Hey, guys. Oh, Linka, I didn't know you were entertaining. Hi. I'm Loni.” Is this guy for real? He acted as if he wasn't here minutes ago. You can’t help but let out a laugh about his silliness which caught the siblings’ attention.

You became self-conscious when they all stared at you. Their stares made you a bit shy. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Linka’s tutor, (Y/n). It’s nice to meet you all.” You nervously laugh.

“Ugh, could all of you please get out? We’re trying to study!” Linka snapped at them but the sibling with a crown pushed a chair between Linka and I, and sat, "It's a free country, Linka. We can go where we want to."

"I'm standing here!" The boy with the net stood next to you while smiling ear to ear. You're now trapped between these cuties. They resemble each other, must be twins.

"The heck you are!" The princely twin retorted, but before any punches were thrown you immediately disputed it. "Boys, I know you're interested in joining Linka and I, but she can't concentrate if eyes are observing her." You grabbed something from your purse

"And mouths yapping" Linka raised an eyebrow at his brothers.

"Yes- wait-, what I mean is she can't focus if there are distractions." You grabbed something from your purse. "Here, I'll give these to you since I'm hoping you'll behave accordingly." You handed each twin a lollipop and gave them a wink.

Their smiles grew wide and immediately shoved it in their mouths. "Roger that!" They saluted and walked away with puffed chests. You turned to the remaining brothers. "We'll just occupy the space for a couple of hours, if you don't mind."

"No problem, Love." A brunette with a faux hawk leaned his arm on your chair gave you a boyish smile. "You can be here anytime of the day. You can even join me on my rock sessions upstair-- Ow! Lane!" On instinct, you leaned your head away when a brunette with braces karate chopped his head. "No, you're not, you just want both of your strings to get attached. Haha! Get it? Strings!"

"Come on, (Y/n)! Let's go somewhere a little less crowded." Linka dragged you away from her swarming brothers. She's clearly annoyed with her brows furrowed.

She led the both of you to the living room and settled on the couch. When she was opening the textbooks, voices were heard outside the house. "The one who catches Geo wins!" The younger brothers were playing in competition with each other, and Linka could see that they were showing off to impress her tutor.

"What are they doing?! They're literally disturbing you. I'm sorry, (Y/n)." Loki sat next to you on the couch and started typing on his phone. His presence made you a bit shy, being this close made you notice his arms' lean muscles, and his full eyebrows. You instantly looked away as he might caught on that you were staring. "Ooh, Linka, you have so many books. What's the story about?" You were caught off guard by a voice coming from behind you. When you turned your head, you saw Loni peeking his head behind the couch. He emits a clean and sweet scent, and he also looks neat.

"I think it'll be better if we went to my room instead." Linka gathered her books and gave the stink eye to her older brothers while escorting you to her room. They only responded with a smirk. Living with ten brothers her whole life, Linka knew what her brothers' antics are all about. They can't even hide that their expressions are living subtitles of their intensions.

After entering upstairs, you saw a brother with an eyeglass interrupting Linka for dragging you to her room, “I need to borrow (Y/n) for a second. I'm tutoring Lexx.” She only gave him a questioning look. You look your tutee with worry, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to help a little.

“Okay, but I can’t stay for more than 5 minutes. I’ll just explain an specific topic they’re having a hard time with.” Levi stared at you with a creepy smile and made a creepy giggle to go along with it.

“This is called a gluteus maximus, otherwise known as the butt.” Levi pointed his pointing stick at the side of your ass cheek. "Wait, what?!" You jerked away from Levi face flushed from embarrassment. You held your hands up to the level of your bust and backed away. "I'm so sorry, I know it's educational but I think I'm not the the best model-- Oof!" Your back bumped into someone's torso. Before you could apologize you were interrupted, "Don't worry about it, (Y/n). These boys are just getting cheeky." Lane came in and pinched both Levi and Lexx's ears which earned a yelp from each sibling. "Wait, I just made a pun! Get it? Cheeky?" Lane laughed to himself.

"All right, all right, CLASS DISMISSED!" Linka grabs your arm and dragged you away from the scene.

"I'm sorry about that, (Y/n)." Linka opened her door and got scared when a goth kid started talking "I wrote a poem about you. (Y/n). Pretty face. Mysterious eyes. Pretty cool for a living girl. (Y/n)."

"Everybody out!" Lexx screamed at Linka's door. "It's time for The Knight, The Princess and The Dragon. You're the Princess, (Y/n). You don't have to do anything your beauty is enough." Lexx giggled. "Lexx, what did we agree on earlier?" You raised a questioning eyebrow at him. "Oopsies." Lexx nervously laughed and bowed before leaving Linka's room.

"Finally, we can get down to business." Linka rejoiced and set her books on bed. "I'm so sorry about my brothers, (Y/n)."

"I'm sorry too, Linka. I should've been more stern with your brothers because tutoring you is my priority." You apologized too. "It's okay, you just met us. I'm sure you just wanted to help." Linka is so cute and can't help but hug her at being understanding. You girls laughed and continued studying.

Hours later, Linka completed the assessments you provided for her. Surprisingly, she got good marks. "Linka, you're spot-on in all of your lessons. Even surrealist art." Linka looked at her assessment scores in confusion, "It's weird. I thought I needed so much help."

"May I ask what happened the day you failed your test?"

"Well, Mr. DiMartino became the substitute for the day--" "Wait Mr. DiMartino? The hunk teacher in elementary?" You laughed at Linka but she only gave you a questioning look. "Girl, no wonder why you're getting distracted and failing your test. Mr. DiMartino is so hot that girls ogle at him and lost their focus."

"Oh my god, you are so right." Linka must've went through a flashback while you're yapping about Mr. DiMartino "I almost failed too because of him. A piece of advice, try not to look too much and you won't worry about failing fifth grade." You winked at Linka and patted her back.

You arranged your things and Linka escorted you downstairs. "It's all in your head, Link. There's no reason you shouldn't be getting top marks on your exam. Well, I guess you won't be needing me anymore." You gave her a hug.

You could hear the whining from the younger brothers about you leaving while the older ones frowned. "Thanks for having me guys!"

Linka tapped your arm just before you left the door. "Can we still hang out after this?" She looked at you with that puppy dog eyes. you only grinned aat her, "You really thought that's gonna work on me? I am a professionally at that, but since you tried, we can 'literally' hang out." You peeked behind Linka and see the guys smile a little.

I guess these dudes needed a playmate.

[loudhousewriting]

Can i please get dating headcanons of Lynn Loud Jr. (boy) x fem reader? And only if you want can you write how are her relationships with his family too if you don't want to its fine if you do only the headcanons. And its totally fine if you don't do my request, but have a great day!

Of course! I wasn't feeling super up to doing a oneshot, so I kept it as Headcanons

He's so in love and never even knew he could feel this way

He has a picture of you on his nightstand by his bed. He loves for you to be the first thing he sees when he wakes up and the last thing he sees when he goes to sleep

Kisses the picture, before tucking himself in bed

Keep a picture of you in his sock as a 'Good Luck Charm' during his games

Is always bragging about you. He thinks you're the coolest person in the world

If anyone disagrees, they can get a football up their as-

You, like all the brother's partners, have been victim of Lane's Pranks

The brother's don't have much thought about you. Like, yeah they like you, but to them, you're just Lynn's girlfriend, in the same way Bebe is just Loki's girlfriend

Lars is tired of hearing about you though

^ Also Lynn has created a little shrine for you, which Lars finds impressive, because he [Lars] too has a shrine, but the obsession isn't something he'd be into, so he could care less about it

Lynn is literally obsessed with you

Has that lovesick look in his eyes whenever he's looking at you

One of his brothers compared him to a guy from a romcom and he adamantly denied it, but when he looked at, he realized he kind of acted like that

He takes it hard, but then when he sees you again, he remembers why he acts that way

You just make him a love-filled fool and he doesn't mind

He can get distracted and a little overly-cocky whenever you go to his games

[incorrectquotesmcu]

Natasha: I’ll teach you everything you need to know about ninjutsu. Now drop and give me twenty!

Y/N: [lays down and takes out their wallet]

Y/N: I’ve only got a five.

[theresascove]

lynn loud dating hcs ₊˚ෆ

• Let’s get the most obvious stuff out of the way

• She’s the jock girlfriend pushed to the extreme, so expect to be cheering her on from the sidelines for every sport imaginable (even sports you weren’t aware of until you met her)

• It’s known that she has an intense personality (her words), so expect every little thing you guys do to be a competition in some way

• Getting to the car? She’ll race you. You toss around a ball for fun? She’ll be calling the scores and spiking it for no reason.

• PHYSICAL TOUCH. PHYSICAL TOUCH. PHYSICAL TOUCH.

• It’s 100% her love language.

• Whether it be a hand on your shoulder, a hand on your knee, a hug–she’s reaching for you and making sure you’re alright. Just one feel and it subconscious calms her down just as it does for you.

• I can see quality time being her second love language. She’d show how she cares by doing something with you, doesn't matter what.

• This girl is an extremely active teen. So you’ll have to keep up the pace, I can’t see her dating someone who’s a homebody–she’ll need someone that’s okay with being out and about

• So dates will be out and about, and exciting. Such as putt-putt, sport games, fairs, etc.

• I believe she leads, but she’s not a great initiator. She has the confidence too–but I believe her mind is focused elsewhere, so you’ll have to make a first move but she’ll guide everything else afterwards

• The only time I can see her initiating is after an argument, she’s definitely making the first move after the both of you have had time to calm down.

• I really can’t see her being intentionally mean, she’s just usually aggressive–and with that comes brutal honesty. So she’d say something and move on, getting confused when it upsets you, and an argument ensues.

• She’d text you after, or call. And if neither works, she’d show up to your house–hand behind her head–awkward (but it’s sweet)

• The show on Nickelodeon is family friendly, but in real life I definitely believe she curses from time to time. I mean come on she’s in 11th grade

• Music genre? I see pop and rock, maybe rap. She needs something upbeat to fit her athletic and active life.

• She’d definitely do the shared airpod thing

• Definitely also tries to get you to be active with her

• “Come on, it’s just a little run” (it’s like 10 miles)

• She may feel a little aloof, but she’s really attentive to the slightest things. If you’re looking a little down, her face will drop a bit and she’ll reach out and ask how you’re doing.

• Your biggest cheerleader as well. Always wishing you the best. (Just maybe sometimes not better than her, she wants to win)

• Calls you, “babe,” or “baby” fs

• Strong gf too. If you hurt yourself, she’s definitely carrying you with ease to wherever you need

[londondungeon2]

concept with jade leech

there is no dire-beast inside the mirror chamber, and there are no ghosts inhabiting ramshackle. it is simply: you, alone in a rundown building, after the headmaster leaves.

you have been pinching yourself through the day. little crescent marks litter your wrist.

for the past six or so hours, you have been trying really hard to wake up from this dream. nothing is working. desolate, you take to wandering the house.

you know your imagination is strong but an entire college, idiosyncratic characters, and an entire furnished building is a bit complex. still, you card through the squabble, hoping to unearth some mistake in physics that will tell you that this is a dream. that search ends abruptly when you find a loose floorboard and the fragile wood underneath you gives out like a snapped cracker.

you land hard.

ten feet down in the basement, lying on your back.

blinking away dust, your eyes land upon the piece of wood speared cleanly through your abdomen.

the pain tells you this is too much to be a dream.

it is a full two hours you lie there immobile. you try rolling on your side, hoping to at least stand up, but each motion is anguish in an ineffable amount. you wrap your hands around the red wood and try to pull; it leads to your eyeballs rolling so far back you see new colors. skin shining with generous sweat and dipping in and out of consciousness, you lie there and bid limited time until someone from this new world comes to find you. the headmaster will eventually come back, right?

you think about a multitude of things.

you think about how if your corpse withers here, the puss running out your orifices will look like cream cheese.

you think about how the glittering wands those students held might work, is it like harry potter or a unique universe.

you think about how you still had to go to work tomorrow in your own original universe, attend classes, hope plans with friends don’t fall through so you laugh carefree without lungfuls of blood.

your last slip from consciousness to eternal unconsciousness, you think about home. the bed you slept in, the books read and films watched, the snack wrappers on the sheets, what a comforting waste.

you drift off, expecting to be jolted awake again by your own feverish mind, and die, bleeding out on ramshackle’s basement floor.

it takes azul awhile to gain ramshackle’s dorm.

the one new student he saw during the opening ceremony apparently stayed there one night and fled the next morning. as the headmaster’s report goes, crowley found no one living there when he went to check the following day. however, the usage of ramshackle by that magicless student opened up a gate of opportunity and azul did not let it go to waste.

the negotiations took awhile and the proper refurbishment will have to be done. but just before winter exams, azul has managed to secure himself a second location for mostro lounge.

first, damages have to be assessed.

the building is disgusting, rundown, and simply inhabitable. busy with the 250 students he has under contract, azul assigns jade to spend a november afternoon there and make note of what they need to start repairing first.

azul really hopes the plumbing is salvageable. the cost would be through the roof if otherwise.

so jade, hand over his heart, promises to survey ramshackle the next day and outline a list of high priority repairs to stuff they can skimp upon in the budget.

jade’s excited. the mountains he treks are northwest and ramshackle is northeast; this will provide him a new opportunity to see what kind of mushroom may lie on that side of the island. …oh, and he supposes he will also assist azul in his endeavor as well.

the next day, he spends half of the allotted time foraging outside of ramshackle before he actually walks into the building. i should make this quick and efficient. i only have thirty minutes left. notepad in hand, he starts to investigate the wreckage.

uninhabited and ugly. those are the two words that rise to jade’s mind first. truly, it is a lovely space and it would be a disgrace to see it painted in shades of lilac and oceanic decor. but, it will be entertaining nonetheless to see azul’s business expand.

yet, as he’s walking down the halls, jade cannot help but think he is hearing a second pair of footsteps just behind him.

yes, ramshackle is ugly but it does not seem to be as uninhabited as he thought. how intriguing.

so, sadistic grin blooming, jade decides to play a game. he will ignore this secondary person and continue on, waiting anxiously to see what will happen. he marks down his observations, all while feeling a pair of eyes upon his neck. lighting on the first floor needs fixing. the water runs orange in the upstairs sink. nothing entirely formidable has happen yet, but he hopes it will.

jade cannot wait to see if this ghost can turn his skin inside out, or perhaps drop a floorboard on top of his head, the possibilities are endless. it all has jade’s toes squirming in his dress shoes in anticipation.

however, his thirty minutes are up before he can descend the basement stairs and nothing has happened yet.

which is disappointing.

he’ll be back again tomorrow so there is always a chance for something then.

however, he had hoped for something to happen now.

just as jade is walking out the door, list and bag of mushrooms in hand, something ice cold tickles the hairs on his neck. frigid like home. he barely gets a chance to dwell on it before five frozen fingers wrap themselves around his throat and shove him down the porch steps.

the door to ramshackle slams shut.

sprawled on the ground, jade reaches his hand up to the idents on the column of skin, the previous touch thawing out.

he cannot help the deep blush that comes up to his face.

with a deep breath, his own gloves fingers still hovering over the lost embrace, jade stands up and pats himself down. he looks upon the closed door with a hunger in his eyes.

yes, tomorrow he will be back.

and he hopes this ghost will act up again because they have so much more allure to jade than a second mostro lounge.

[taintandviolent]

NSFW 18+ AI AUDIO!

Requested by @enchanting-evan!

[asvterias]

✮ 𝘖𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘈𝘵𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 ✮

𝘓𝘺𝘯𝘯 𝘓𝘰𝘶𝘥 𝘑𝘳. 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

_______________________________________________

tags: @sheluvv-jen

a/n: this is a race-specified reader story but everyone is free to read!! as a black writer myself, i want to influence my output on influencing black!readers (at least for my writing).

there will be some cursing but not that much to be described as vulgar.

comment, send me an ask or a private message if you would like to be added to the taglist!

also available on wattpad!

my wattpad is: @asvteriasoul

𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝖽: 𝖩𝗎𝗇𝖾 𝟥𝟢𝗍𝗁, 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟥

i’m discontinuing this story!

✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮

In which the over-competitive baseball captain meets the overachieving new rich student. Academic value came easy to [Name] whereas athletic was an secondhand-instinct to Lynn.

[Name] was born from a rich family, maintaining good grades and completing good sports. Known from her family name, she desires her ability to be a figure skater and tennis player. Lynn was born into a chaotic but loving large family. Being completely enamored with baseball, she becomes the team captain and thrives exceptionally well.

[Name] Bailey and Lynn Loud Jr. are completely two polar opposites, their biggest difference was via their achievements but eventually found their similarity in love.

✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮

The Cast of Opposites Attract

Chapter 1 — Moving Sucks

Chapter 2 — Neighborhood Greetings

Chapter 3 — Cheer Up, It’s Chore Day

Chapter 4 — Only For You

Chapter 5 — Hidden Feelings

_______________________________________________

[bonm4ti]

( - by request - )

- Your camera roll if you were dating Sophia Woodward ೃ⁀➷

[artemisia-the-turtle]

Raph: no wait, your lactose intolerant .

(name): no I am not, I am tolerant of everyone whether they lack toes or not.

Raph:....

Mikey:....

Leo, laughing: omigosh.

April: did you lie to him about that so you could make that joke.

Donnie, pointing at Leo: you infected them with your terrible puns.

[dolliezo]

ᴿᵒᵍᵉʳ ˢᵏⁱᵖᵖᵉʳ!

hihi! I am Dollie or Zo and this is my blog :3

I write headcanons and sometimes scenarios! However, headcanons will be the most common!

I write for ROTTMNT, Gravity Falls, The Owl House, The Bad Guys, Teen Titans Go, Total Drama (all), The Loud House, Big City Greens, Strange World, Bee and Puppycat, and The Croods (Series and Movies)!

Of course, I will be adding more when I finish more!

I will write GN! Reader and Male! Reader, however no Female reader! I see a lot of writings for females and we Gn/Males need more writing!

I will do just about anything except NSFW, Pedo, Incest, etc If you're not sure what I do then simply ask!

As said before I'm better at doing headcanons so that's what ill usually do but ill also do scenarios! However, if I do scenarios it will take longer!

Here are my tags! Feel free to block any of them!

Zo.Says.Zo -> When I post anything! (minus writings!)

Zo.Talks.Zo -> When I answer an ask! (Minus requests!)

Zo.(Name/Anon).Zo -> When I talk to a specific someone!

Zo.Writes.Zo -> When I write/My Writings! (including ocs if I write for them!)

Zo.Reblog.Zo -> When I reblog something!

More will be added when I think of them!

I do hope you enjoy your stay here!

[loudhousewriting]

PLEASE PLEASE MAKE A LONI X READER X LOKI AND THEIR BOTH FLIRTING N WE ARE OBLIVIOUS TO IT SO PLEASE 🙏🙏🙏🙏 (when you can <33)

oh my god! i never saw this lol. sometimes inboxes get lost istg Tw: Slight Language

Loki is a cheesy romantic. Lots of gifts and chocolates

^ So, for you to not pick up on his advances you have to be really love blind

Now Loni, Loni is.... Well, he's a cute lover. Compliments and words of affirmation are his love language. With him you just think that's how he is

Loki flirting is more obvious, but as previously mentioned, you're an idiot

You work at the mall, so whenever the family goes to the mall for the outings, they do everything in their power to ditch the family and see you

Loki is forced to watch his younger siblings, much to his frustration, but not Loni

Loni was thrilled when seeing you leaning on the counter chewing some gum while fiddling with your phone. He mentally prepares himself before approaching you

He is blocked though, because a customer captures your attention and they are pissed. Loni felt really bad, because they were yelling and getting aggressive, but you handled it surprisingly well. He recognized the customer-service act, because he pulled it when people were mean to him

^ He finally approached you when they [The 'Karen' ] left, but as he got closer, he could hear your annoyance and mockery and he was worried that it was a bad time. Though, when you saw him, you quickly called him over

"You just missed this crazy woman! It was terrible."

"Yeah... I saw"

You laugh, shaking your head, "She was fucking crazy"

"Yeah... Yeah, she was," He laughs and you both continue a conversation

"Hey, I'm about to clock out, do you want to hang out?"

It must have been his lucky day, or perhaps he had died and gone to heaven, and he was quick to agree

Loni tries to flirt with you, but it's mostly just stupid puns or flirts that don't land or he says the punchline wrong

"Are you from Pennsylvania, because you're the only ten I see- Wait, no... That's not right"

Lucky for him, you think he's rather funny and think it's kind of cute how he keeps messing up. He reminds you of a puppy

Loki sees you two together and is fuming

He wants to go over and talk to you, but he's stuck with the kids

He would have gone over with the kids to hopefully embarrass Loni, but he [Loki] was smart enough to know he'd embarrass himself too

Loki knows exactly how he'll get to you too. You're in Loni's grade, so Loki will offer to help you with the excuse of 'I've already done the work, so I know how to do it.'

^ Lucky him it works

He's so obvious about his flirting, calling you pretty and such

You just think he's being a sweet friend

It's very frustrating for both of them

They're siblings stay out of it, because they don't want to get involved with their brothers' love 'V' [It's not a triangle]

^ That is until they're threatened with losing certain privileges, but it's pointless, because you're clueless

You could have it spelled out that they like you and you would still think it's just a friend thing

[dreamlandcreations]

My head is filled with House of the Dragon scenarios, really it's otherwise empty at the moment 😵‍💫 but I can't decide

Or should I go with just making (a) moodboard(s) bc I'm more likely to be actually finishing that(/them)? 🤔

[theresascove]

can you please do like protective lynn loud? i don’t know anyone else that writes for her on here so thank you for your service🫡🫡

her protective nature ₊ ⊹

lynn loud x f!reader

you go up against Lynn when your schools play against each other—the known competition between the two schools enacts foul play, causing you to get injured.

tw: not proofread, established relationship (dating), protective!lynn, soccer player r & lynn, injury (r receiving, twisted ankle), Lynn pushes someone, lynn is able to carry r, fluff, hurt/comfort, can be high or middle school, bit of cursing

wc ✎ 1.2k • thanks for the idea! I love writing for her, there needs to be more!

Whenever a game rolls around, there’s an increase in pressure from the coach—especially when it’s the known game between your school and Lynn’s. She’d bringing it up often, using it like rage bait at random times whenever you were playing a game so you’d get more competitive.

It was up until the night before the game. You were over at her house, laying beside her on her bed, head resting on her bicep. Her focus was on her phone, but her finger drew shapes on your shoulder.

The feeling light and fleeting, drawing softly on your skin chasing goosebumps to rise.

“Lynn,” you call, voice no louder than a whisper. She felt you shuffle in her hold, ears picking up on the call.

“Yeah?”

You brush hair out of her face, hoping she’d put her phone away and look towards you instead, “our game’s tomorrow,” you singsong.

She laughs, throwing her phone down and twisting to wrap herself around you, “nervous about it now?”

“No need to. I’ve seen you play.”

You laugh when she shoves you.

The day came so soon. You are just resting in her bed, cuddling to fight out the cold that raged outside. Now the last school bell rang, echoing through the halls. Bag in hand, you walked out towards your locker room. Some of your teammates were already there, throwing on their jerseys. Wasn’t long before the whole room was like a flood of blue—the bright color almost overstimulating you.

“Lynn’s outside,” your friend whispers passing by you, a playful smile as she smacks your shoulder, “go talk with her.”

She stood in her red jersey, a complete contrast from you. You crossed the concrete sidewalk, meeting her on the side standing on the grass.

“Just wanted to say good luck,” she pulls you into a quick kiss, “you’ll need it.”

Turns out you really did. You’ve watched Lynn’s games before, hell you’ve even met a few of her teammates—so why did it come as a surprise when the game had your lungs burning for air.

You were 4-1, Lynn’s school having an increased number due to her—quite literally. You stood near the end of the field, hands on your hips—chest heaving. Lynn had a smile having barely broken into a sweat. She tosses the ball back into the game, yelling out to one of her players. You sighed, picking the pace to walk down the field as it was passed around.

Your legs, already sore, screamed at you when you started to prep for the ball racing towards you. Vision blurry and snapping everywhere, you weren’t able to move around when red snapped in your vision—a cleat sneaked between your feet, pulling between your legs. Your right foot twisted and you dropped like a fly.

Your back snapped against the ground, a high pitched hiss escaping you painfully. The grass was wet and cold against your back, the feeling sliding around you when you fell onto your side—hands gripping tightly onto your leg to stop the pain around your ankle. The field lights had been turned on, shining bright and almost blinding you when you looked up.

Lynn had left the game, moving down the field to come close with the girl that had tripped you. She had her teammate stumbling in the same way you had a minute ago, palms of her hands stinging from where she roughed her onto the field. In the back, you faintly heard her dad yell out her name.

“The hell is your problem? Rolling out a foul fucking play like that?”

The ref held a hand out, holding her back. She hadn’t yet looked to you other than when she watched the whole scene unfold. She tried pushing down the ref’s arm, but he wasn’t allowing her to get anywhere near the girl. Your school’s medic had her hands under your arms, pulling you to balance on one foot.

“Can you try to walk on it?”

You shook your head, eyes closed when the world moved in waves, “no. I think it’s broken.”

“Hopefully not,” she shifts her hold, “try setting it on the ground for me.”

Your foot settles onto the grass fine, but any pressure added to it hurdles you to the edge.

“No,” you say, breathing out shakily, “no, it hurts.”

Lynn comes into view, pushing past the medic to hold where she was. She has her jaw clenched, but her eyes hold a warmth.

“I’m going to move you to this bench okay?”

Each step—limp—brings a pained expression onto the face and nails digging into her shoulder. She crouches in front of you, hand on your thigh as the medic talks you through a medical procedure. The medic’s fingers were cold, removing your shoe and angling your foot around.

Any time you flinched, jerking away from the medic—Lynn was steeling you, hands holding you still while she hushed you.

“I’m sorry,” she would say each time, vision staying on either your face or your foot.

“Okay,” the medic stands, “seems like you’ve only twisted it. Just stay off of it. Ice it, elevate it. Should take two weeks to heal if you follow through what I’ve told you now, okay?”

She hums when you agree, moving back elsewhere to probably talk to other school admiration or your parents who were somewhere in the stands still. Lynn rubbed your hand with her thumb, eyes locked on your face. It was scrunched in pain, bottom lip dropped open to breathe slowly.

“Talk me through how you’re feeling. Are you okay if I carry you back to the car?”

Your mind shut off at the offer, but you kept it under qualms. It was so bright when your eyes opened again.

“Yeah, that’s good. I don’t think I can walk right now, I feel dizzy.”

“Yeah bet. Your head hit the ground pretty hard when that bitch—“

“Lynn,” you huffed and she shrugged, standing and helping you up.

Both of your family’s met you, discussing how they wanted to go about the night. Best plan was driving you back home so they can wrap your leg and get you rested already. There wasn’t any reason to stay—especially with how Lynn kept looking back to the girl, it would be better to leave the premises.

She carried you with ease back to the car, you laid on her back—hands on your thighs. Wasn’t long before she had you laughing, turning the frustrating and embarrassing situation into something comedic.

You were settled into your parent’s car, in the back seat. She moved with such care and ease, ensuring your comfort. Before the car door shut, she leaned in to sneak a kiss.

“Message me when you get back home.”

The next day you overheard your parents talking about how Lynn got evicted from school for a day for taking a punch at her teammate. You would scold her later, but now it brought a proud smile to your face.

[tonycries]

Corpse Groom - G.S.

Synopsis. Till déath do you part…or does it when a déathly error leads your newly-wedded husband to be from beyond the gráve?

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, CÓRPSE BRIDE!AU, arranged marriages, period-typical mísogyny, Naoya is awful, accidental marriage, ángst, major character(s) déath, HAPPY ENDING, talks of déath, kníves, poíson, reíncarnation, Gojo YEARNS, he loves you sm I cried, hándjobs, fíngering, spítting, cúmplay, BRÉEDING, creampíes, mentions of having kids, pússydrúnk Gojo, overstím, oraI (fem rec.), pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 12.7k (ohoho)

A/N. K!nktober isn’t over until I had to make a rewrite of my favorite Halloween movie mhm <3

“Mother, I refuse-”

“Nonsense, child!”

That sharp snap! of your mother’s feathered fan is loud enough that the whole carriage rattles on its hinges, creaking you noisily to what seemed like your very doom. 

You gulp when she’s tilting her head down as far as her best, high-collared gown would allow, eyes narrowing. “The Zenin’s are the only nobles left in this wretched town, and I will not have my daughter marrying some commoner.”

The unsteady cobblestone pathway jostles you in your cushioned seat ever-so-slightly, a pertinent little reminder of that fact.

In the deafening silence, your father pipes up - ever-the-pacifist, “Now now, why don’t we all calm down, especially before such a glorious wedding.” But his words wither out into nothing but a whisper in the simmering tension. “Like your mother said, dear, the Zenin’s are a good family, with a uh-” Coughing nervously, “-good son. We just want you to be taken care of.”

As if that was the only thing.

But there was no use arguing. 

Facing back to the gray window with a sigh, and you can only whisper. “I’d rather die than marry Naoya Zenin.”

---

“With this hand-”

“Louder.”

“With this-”

“More passionate.”

“With this damn hand-”

“Not a threat.” The older woman in front of you wrings her satin gloves, turning towards your fuming parents with a tone that matches their expression. “Honestly, I know that you new money people find it hard to adjust but this is our special tradition! My poor baby Naoya is going to be heartbroken tomorrow.”

Dutchess Zenin had a cruel sort of beauty to her, high cheekbones, and cutting eyes that picked apart every fray at your dress - the spitting image of her son.

And her “poor baby Naoya” was currently finding it impossible to hide his smirk. Swiping away invisible dust from the velvety-clad shoulder of his overpriced suit, he sets down his wine bottle from the vows.

“Don’t be too harsh, mother.” Naoya’s smooth voice comes out in a dangerous purr, and you jolt when one of his strong arms slither around your waist. Possessive. “After all, it’s this one’s face that’s what’s important.” 

God, if it weren’t for your parents’ pointed looks you would have shoved this overly-perfumed bastard away from you and bolted through those high doors faster than you could say “I do.” 

The Naoya Estate was as beautiful as its occupants could never be, brutal, looming architecture intended to make you feel smaller than you were. All those high cemented pillars, plush furniture, and gleaming chandeliers spoke of exactly what your parents wanted - power. 

It wasn’t the sort of home you’d like to call your own, but then again, you didn’t have any choice in the matter. 

“My deepest apologies on behalf of my daughter, madam-” your mother’s gritting out the words, painted lips curling ever-so-slightly towards the end with a bitter taste. “-or should I say, co-mother-in-law? Ah, come now, we might as well be family already, right?”

“Sure.” Dutchess Naoya turns, arching a needle brow. “Might as well, thanks to your family assets- if your daughter doesn’t make a joke of the vows, that is.”

The wisened officiary standing at the altar nods solemnly towards you. “Do you even want to get married tomorrow, young lady?” No, you want to answer, but bite back. “Zenin house traditions dictate that the mark of a good wife is one to follow the vows to its every syllable.”

You wince - and your features sting where they’d been perfectly stretched into a plastic smile. Your next words come out small, strangled in a way that makes your future husband smile. “I apologize, I know how important these vows are, and I’ll- I’ll do better next time.”

“Good.”

With a click of Dutchess Zenin’s fingers, a hushed, swirling piano melody fills the hall once more. 

Your wedding ballad. 

Something that Naoya had prattled on and on about being an esteemed tradition in the Zenin household, a tender tune to accompany their sacred vows. Modeled after the long-lost royalty of this kingdom, and this was the closest you’d get to a taste of it. 

It was your one initiation into power - saying those sweet, special promises - and the one thing you found impossible to get right.

“-for I will be your wine.”

Shit.

You didn’t even realize that Naoya had polished off his own vows, before you jolt at the hefty weight of wine being poured into your cup. 

And you could practically feel the burning stare of every eye in the room. Watching. Waiting. 

You’re fighting against your intricate corset to gulp in a deep inhale of the stale, thickening air. Clearing your throat ever-so-slightly, you raise the hand holding onto his wedding ring. “With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Y-your cup will never empty-” Fingers tightening around the silver goblet in your other, your breath hitches at the bile rising to your throat already. “-for I will be your- your uh- wine.” 

In the corner of your vision, you could spot Naoya’s smug smirk already. You could hear his tiny “As if you have any other choice.”

You knew what he was thinking.

That whisper is enough to make your jaw grind, your hand clench in a way you’d been taught by your mother not to - in a way that she’d unfortunately forgotten to tell you was for the cup’s sake, rather than your own.

Because it only takes one harsh squeeze before it just bursts.

Red, red wine trickling all down your wrist, splattering onto the gauzy curve of your gown - but more importantly, onto Naoya’s crisp suit. 

It bleeds through the velvet in thick smears, seeping into the fabric as if catching on fire. Only staining further and further with each second he’s flailing frantically to wipe it off. 

“Shit- My apologies- oh, shit-” you’re gasping, but there’s no one paying enough attention to tell you off for your unlady-like profanity right now. Body moving before your mind, you snatch some of the officiary’s papers from him, “Wait, it will only get worse- let me-”

Only to forget what was in your hands.

Honestly, if this was any other time you would have laughed watching the rest of the wine nestled safely in your cup come gushing down onto whatever was left of his unmarred suit - every single inch. 

It’s chaos.

Then it’s silence. 

Every single breathing being in the room can only watch as the last few crimson droplets drip! drip! drip! onto Naoya Zenin’s lapels.

Wordlessly, you look to the aghast officiary, your stony-faced parents, and finally, your gaping fiancé. You’re the first to speak - to hold back your chuckles, more like. “I- I cannot apologize enough…”

“You- you witch! This was on purpose, wasn’t it? Do you know how much this custom suit cost? How it was worn by the late highness himself.” Naoya’s screeching, voice shrill. Pointing a finger accusingly at you, it would be menacing if it wasn’t for the big, fat droplets of red dripping from his angry features. More of a drenched cat than the gentleman he pretends to be. “Remember that I’m doing you a favor by marrying you-”

You cross your arms, struggling to keep composure. “I shall reimburse-”

“-and acting all haughty as if you were from the royal family itself.” he’s frantic, mouth running a mile a minute. Tugging at his wet strands, “And my hair, oh my beautiful beautiful hair-”

“I shall reimburse the emotional damages, too!”

Dutchess Zenin tackles her son into a soothing embrace you find almost comical, granting you with a venomous glare that you were sure if looks could kill, she’d be lowering you into your grave and waltzing over it with Naoya already.

Simpering, “It’s quite alright my poor boy, this wedding cannot take place! We can find another-”

“No no no- no, I still want to marry her-” His greedy eyes sweep your trembling figure up and down, “Doesn’t matter if she’s an unfit wife, I’ll fix her up-” You’re quirking a brow, “Swear I’ll marry her and fix her up into-”

THUD!

You’re throwing the cup remaining in your hand as hard as you can, hitting Naoya right in the bullseye of his chest. And as soon as the air leaves his lungs, they leave yours too - in a stubborn, infuriated hiss, “Well, I’d never marry a spoiled, pompous brat like you.”

And with a flick of the stray beads of wine on your fingers at his face for good measure, you lift your heavy skirts as scandalously far as they’d travel to dart out of the door.

Out of the winding corridors. 

Out of the Zenin Estate. 

Ignoring every call of your name, every arm reaching out for you - urgently following your feet wherever they took you. Honestly, you’re so busy gasping in deep lungfuls of the cool, fall air embracing you that you’re half-surprised you only crash into a few people on the streets. 

Again. And again. And again and again, yet never stopping. Afraid of being followed by Naoya. Or even worse - your parents.

You barely even slow down until your tailored shoes crunch against gray snow, eyes taking in lines upon lines of towering trees in front of you. Tall, towering. Weaving their branches with the sky - ominous, almost, against the steadily darkening night creeping its way in.

The forest, you’re realizing with a gasp. Have you really come this far? 

Taking a glimpse over your shoulder at the twinkling lights of the town in the distance, you think of the vows that were waiting for you, and the town rumors you’d definitely sparked. Well, a walk to cool off wouldn’t hurt…

And despite wanting to relax, your thoughts only churn with each step. Replaying the scenes from earlier over and over and-

“And your cup will always- fuck- they probably think I’m such a fool.” you’re spitting, kicking at a pile of snow. “Fuck Naoya and his vows, fuck that stupid wine, should’ve shoved it up his-” 

Just then, a sudden gust of fall air puffs up against your ear, sending goosebumps careening down every bit of your exposed skin. You shudder sharply, hands shovelling for warmth inside your gown’s pockets, “Ugh, today’s such a horrible-” Only to cut yourself off with a gasp- “This is…”

You feel for that metallic cold again, hastily pulling out that solid, silvery ring. Meant for Naoya Zenin.

Admittedly gorgeous, an intricate band with a delicate sapphire embedded in its middle. Your mother had spent months tracking down the best jeweler in the country to forge a ring that even the Zenin’s would be impressed with. 

Fit for a king.

You scoff, “An unfit wife, my ass. It’s not even that difficult.”

Still feeling highly insulted, and only slightly embarrassed for it, you clear your throat. Speaking clearly into the stiff air, “With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.” Determinedly you stride your way into the middle of a slight clearing, “Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.”

Grasping a stray branch, you mock lighting the altar candles. “With this candle, I will light your way in the darkness.”

Before setting down on one knee - customary for the groom, yet feeling so right when you gaze down at a tree root sticking up from the blanket of snow. Poised like the prettiest of fingers at the foot of a towering oak.

“With this ring,” You’re sliding it down easily as you would have to onto the man you hated the most. “I ask you to be mine.”

.

.

.

You don’t expect the sudden shift. 

You don’t expect the wind to pick up, you don’t expect for a murder of crows to materialize from the midnight darkness and crowd on a tree right behind you. Letting the tree root slip from your fingers, you whirl around - what- a storm?

But before you can think of any answers, that withered branch shoots further out of the ground. Barely giving you a split-second to jump backwards before cupping your cheek, gently. 

And you could’ve sworn that one twig glides across your cheek - just the way one’s thumb would have. Like the softest of lovers. 

Gasping in fear, you fall backwards, splaying out into the uncomfortably bone-chilling snow below.

You can only watch as the tree root twitches once. Twice. And your ears thunder with the high-pitched howls of the wind, and a sudden, booming bang! bang! bang!

Shit. 

Your eyes widen, it was coming from under the ground. 

The ground that was splitting open before your very eyes. 

Wider. And wider. Like something was baring itself before you. Something was clawing all the way from hell, that tree root only surging up, up, upwards in a long, limb-like fashion. Branching out into five fingers that dig their way into the ground. Hard. 

And if you didn’t think you were about to faint from just this - you were definitely on the verge of it when the fingers lead their way into a forearm, a shoulder. Miles upon miles of skin - a person, towering above you, silhouetted by moonlight.

He looks at you with sapphire eyes. Close. 

A man.

Beautiful. 

Whispering, “I do.” Nose to cold nose, thick white lashes fluttering shut. “You may now kiss the groom.”

---

You’re barely half-awake when you realize that that was probably the strangest dream you’ve had in your life. 

Groaning, you rub blearily at your eyes - yet, through the bursts of stars and pounding flashes of headaches, all you can think about is him and his chilling lips on yours.

Soft, like a leaving lover.  

Even in your most feverish of dreams, you’d never conjured up anyone so ethereal. Tall, powerful despite the almost-sickly air about him, and the deep circles underneath his gleaming eyes. 

But so gorgeous - sorrowfully so. 

The image burned permanently into your mind, like your most favorite of memories. Every tiny detail down from the almost-blinding reflection of the moon against his cloudy hair, to how that illuminated his soft smile - that tiny dimple at the corner of his pert, pretty mouth. 

You remember how he wore a wedding suit, the kind that nobles these days wouldn’t dare touch with a six foot sword with how it looked centuries out of fashion. Stark white, with fine silver detailing down the velvety fabric for you to admire.

How ironic, somehow, the thought made you sad.

But most of all, you especially remember the way he looked at you.

Just like he was right now.

“Ah!”

“Now that’s not usually the reaction I- fuck!”

He was real. So painfully real.

And clutching his face where you’d claimed a swat at one of high cheekbones.

“Ouch, my wife has a real good arm on her, huh?” Blinking back the haziness in your eyes, you catch sight of that same summer blue gaze, eyes crinkled slightly at the ends. Tender, despite being attacked by you less than a minute after gaining consciousness. “Though, I love a strong woman.”

“New arrival! Looks like we got ourselves a breather-”

“Looks like she fainted, is she alright? You know we can’t keep her long-”

“Can I touch her? Looks so soft~”

White - white fills your vision, too-late are you realizing that you’re being pressed into the soft coat of his chest. Inching you away from a hulking, four-armed creature, he mutters, “She’s my wife, you curse.”

“What-” It takes you a few more seconds to finally find your voice. In those moments you look up to take in his boyishly pretty features - about your age. Human, had it not been for that otherworldly faint blue pallor. “Is this a joke? Where am-”

Choking on your words as you take a sweeping look around the - tavern? Realm? It looked like the very same one in your own town, except bright. Musical. Everything that your home wasn’t. Finding faces you could never imagine looking at you - some beautiful, some mere skeletons, all taken out of your wildest dreams. 

And all dead, it hits you with a jolt. 

Yet, somehow, you’ve never felt safer in his arms. 

“Something wrong, my love?”

You pinch yourself, “I need questions- now.”

“You mean answers.” One from the pub crowd scoffs - a towering man, handsome. He’d look ever-so-ordinary if it wasn’t for the completely skeletal arm on his left side. And of course, that same death-like serenity. “Honestly, Gojo, you picked an airhead or what?”

The man that still held you - Gojo, you assume - whines in protest, “Shut up, Toji. I’d always love her regardless- and she said her vows so perfectly.”

“I did…” you breathe.

Shit. 

Shit shit shit- you did.

Cocking your head, you ask. “Who are you?” 

He’s rolling his eyes, gifting you a crooked grin of pearly whites. “Your husband, obviously?”

And before you can pinch yourself again to make sure you weren’t dreaming, and that last time was a fluke - or perhaps smack him again - Gojo shows off one slender hand. Naoya Zenin’s ring adorned proudly across his ring finger. Your ring. With your vows. 

“So…” you let out a giggle of still disbelief. “You’re the tree-”

“Not quite but-”

“Oh! I love this story- could make a skeleton cry.”

“Heh, yeah yeah sing it, king of curses.”

“Please don’t.”

“You see, welcome to the Land of the Dead, doll.” A man with pink hair sets down his drink to throw one of his four arms around your shoulder, much to Gojo’s chagrin. Words dripping with taunt,  “N’ lemme tell you the story of our lovely corpse groom.”

You’re dragged along through the crowded, eerily lit tavern, everyone jostling each other to better get a look at you. Poking and prodding, some even gasping at the feeling of your thundering pulse. 

He hums, “Here we have a pompous prince known miles around-” And you could tell him and Gojo had already known each other long, with how he was toying with the other man. “-fell hard and fast for a cute lil’ peasant girl much like yourself-”

“Sukuna, stop it.” Gojo grits, jaw clenched. 

“-but, alas. When dear ol’ dad the king said ‘no’, he jus’ couldn’t cope. So our dear lovers came up with a plan to elope-”

You’re thrust into the arms of an attractive blond man, almost half of his entire face held together with stitches and bone. Heaving out a sigh in a way you could very much feel akin to, “Meeting up late at night is always a stupid plan, even with all the wine and riches for the road. You might not need much when you have love, but you never know what’s lurking. And, well, on that dark night, our prince here paid the price.” When you look back at the white-haired man his eyes seemed significantly softer, if that was even possible. 

Toji’s the one by your side this time, “Poof! Dropped dead as dust waiting for his dear girl, no evidence, no body, no bride. What a crybaby he was when he arrived. Didn’t even want to stay here-”

“-because then he made a promise to wait upstairs.” Another man - with such gorgeous, long hair makes himself known this time. Forehead littered in strange stitches, as if it’d been opened and fixed many, many times. “And waited and waited asleep for one hundred years to this day until out of the blue, you came along, sweetness. The lovely bride, to our corpse groom.”

You. 

And Gojo looks at you like he can’t look away.

Lone, standing there with his arms open as the story tapers out. Waiting. 

Until you came along.

---

“HERE YE, HERE YE…FUTURE BRIDE OF ZENIN HOUSE SEEN LURKING IN THE FOREST WITH A MYSTERY MAN– now for the weather…” 

“What?” your mother hisses at the bellows of the local newsman, well, rumor-spreader, more like. But he’s never been more useful than now. Sneaking an urgent glance at the stunned Dutchess Zenin by her side, she elbows your father, “We come outside to search for our daughter only to hear this? How could we let this-”

“Maybe it’s a ah- slow news day?”

They’re interrupted by a sudden, sharp clearing of one’s throat - dripping with the distinct tone of condescension that only a member of the Zenin family could possess. “We are one bride short for the wedding tomorrow. What a scandal!” 

“Ah!” she’s gasping. Waving her hands frantically, “W-we promise we’ll find her before the wedding-”

“You better.”

“No.” Naoya Zenin’s voice was brimming with something dangerous, an eerie, steady lilt of determination to it. But he’s not even looking at anyone in the group, eyes trained firmly on the woody entrance to the forest in the distance. “I’ll be the one to find her.”

Finally, something that seems to appease the huffing matriarch.

Only leaving her sullen son with a nod of approval, “And Naoya…” She makes sure the other two bothers were out of earshot, greedily scurrying back to the warmth of the Zenin household. “Remember, the ah- family funds are drying up. Hurry.”

---

Gojo Satoru, you learn, was as nervous about this marriage as you were.

“This is where I always visited after first dying.” he muses, ice-cold fingers wrapped snugly with yours as he guides you gently through various crooked stairs and skeletons of town. “The view takes my breath away- well, if I could breathe, that is.”

You’re startling out a laugh that has both of you surprised, and he turns to you with such breathless awe. 

“Beautiful.”

“What-” your eyes widen - and you don’t know whether it’s from his sudden little compliment, or from where you two had finally stopped walking. 

A steep cliff, overlooking the entire, vast town of multi-color lights. The rigid structure from where you came could never compare. Complete chaos. But as pretty as those paintings you read about in books, views you never thought you’d see. 

You rest your hands atop the spindly barrier surrounding the very edge, marveling. “It is beautiful…”

“It is.” Gojo’s tone is rich, and his eyes never stray from you despite all else there is to drink in. It takes you a few moments of counting all the bustling figures in the distance before you finally mount up the courage to meet his hypnotic gaze. 

Gojo jolts when you look his way, as if he wasn’t expecting it. Hastily, he flusters to pat down the sides of his suit - tattered at places, patchy as if once-pristine but ruined with age. He’s smiling once he ruffles through his breast pocket, pulling out something glinting.

You’re letting out a tiny gasp when he shows off a silver, heart-shaped locket. Intricate, obviously custom-tailored - you’d never quite seen anything like it. Positively beaming with all the shine that the rest of him had lost. 

Treasured. 

“It’s for you.”

“What?” Your jaw falls slack in shock, pushing away Gojo’s held-out hands. But he was ever-persistent. “Please- I can’t, that- that looks like it should be for someone precious.” 

“And it is.” 

This was the firmest you’d heard his sing-song voice, and at your slightest split-second of faltering, he snatches the opportunity to circle his hands around your neck. Deftly clasping it from behind, Gojo only smiles, soft pads of his fingers lingering at your nape. “I’ve had it for years.” You wanted to know exactly how many years that meant. “Consider it a wedding gift~”

Your own dust over the cool metal pendant, heart lurching. “If only you let me know about our wedding in advance, I would’ve gifted you something, too.”

“Heh, you don’t have to.”

“Do too”

“Do not.”

“Do too.” You cross your arms, boring your eyes into his. “I’m not going to be an unfit wife.”

There’s a second of silence. 

One.

Two.

And at this point, you half-expected your parents and Naoya’s to just burst from behind the nearby stairway to tell you this was all some elaborate test - before Gojo just explodes in peels of cackles. 

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry I- hah!” he’s barely able to wheeze out, wiping away stray tears of joy. “You never change, huh-” 

It takes the embarrassed tapping of your feet for Gojo to finally straighten back up to his tall figure, muttering out a few more indiscernible phrases underneath his breath. Clearing his throat, “Now who said you’d ever be an ‘unfit wife’, sweetheart- Y’know I really didn’t believe Toji’s airhead comment but- oh-”

You land a half-hearted punch solidly in his stomach - and usually, you’d think twice, thrice before acting this familiar with anyone. Even then, you wouldn’t follow through underneath your mother’s watchful eye. 

Ah, but you’ve never smiled harder when you claim. “I think I won our first argument as a married couple.”

“Oh, can you do this f’me when I have an argument with Sukuna, next?” Gojo chuckles, wiggling his brows. 

He has to dodge your playful hand a few more times - well, he would have had to. But he’s taking them all gladly, pulling you by the wrist to press you flush against his chest. “But fine, you win. Maybe as a wedding gift we can consumm- I’m kidding I’m kidding- follow me, I have the perfect idea.”

And you couldn’t not come with him, with the way that Gojo was eagerly dragging you through the town plaza and back into the now-empty tavern, where you’d remembered had a grand piano nestled away.

Gojo’s pulling out the seat for you, before promptly taking his own flush beside you. Nudging you with one of his shoulders, he starts up a beautifully haunting few lower notes. Delicate. “You don’t have to play, you can listen if you’d like-”

“Hey, I know this one.” you’re gasping, eyes lighting up with the recognition of that familiar somber from the Zenin house. But something about it this time felt so right. 

Before you know it, your hands are moving faster than you can hold them back, joining Gojo in his sweeping melody on the higher notes. It rings in the air around you two, jostling your body up against his. 

“You know it.” he breathes, such a brilliant grin making way onto his pretty features when you two continue your little duet. And you swear you could hear him suck in a sharp inhale before playing even harder on the keys - a challenge.

And you were never one to back down. 

“Heh, you’re not half bad-” But his own little boast gets cut off by Gojo’s half-skeletal wrist snapping off, twiddling up, up, up the grand piano and on its merry way around your shoulder. “Pardon my enthusiasm, my love.”

You help him reattach it back, an interesting quirk of being half-dead, you suppose. “I like your enthusiasm.”

There’s a slow, stuttering silence that echoes afterwards, and you’re shivering from the slightly cold bite of the underground. Gojo wraps his full arm around your shoulder this time, and you don’t have the heart to tell him that he was still bone-cold. 

“How…” he gulps, barely meeting your eyes. “How did you know that song?”

But you couldn’t tear yours away from him, “Oh? That song? Well- before I uh- married you, I was actually engaged-”

His pretty lips fall slack, “Oh…”

You’re not sure why you hasten to explain yourself, “B-but he was a prick- and I threw a wine cup at him just before coming here.”

“That’s my girl.” Gojo winks, and you’re feeling your skin heat up.

“Anyway, this song was to be played at the wedding. So my mother made me memorize every single note- she failed to tell me it was a duet, however.”

“It was.”

Something about those two words comes out breathless, barely hanging on. And you’re biting your bottom lip ragged before the question escapes you, “You were engaged, as well? Before- as a prince- I mean- oh, forget-”

To your surprise, Gojo only chuckles - deep voice breaking ever-so-slightly at the very end. His fingers glide across the piano with a familiar sadness that you can’t quite pinpoint. Chest rumbling, “Well, it’s just as the others said. We were meant to run away together, but your dear ol’ husband here died just before we could.” 

You’re swallowing the lead that’d seemed to piled up heavily in your throat, still afraid to push too far. “And the- the bride? What happened to her?”

“I…don’t know…she probably saw I wasn’t there and went back, had a happier life with a more deserving husband- children, even.” He looks towards the perpetual night sky, Adam’s apple bobbing heftily. “It’s funny- today’s a hundred years since that day.”

Something hurt. And your chest churned at the thought of him waiting and waiting in the darkness for years. For someone.

“You loved her?”

He looks at you - really looks at you - and then down at the gleaming locket. “I love her. And I made a promise, I wait for her - in life and death.”

Something really hurt - and it wasn’t just that hollow, aching burn in your chest. No, your head was now throbbing with such a splitting pain that you can’t help but grab your temple with a yelp. Eyes scrunching shut with tears, trying to down out that drilling thrum. 

“Shit-” you’re hearing, foggy, like it was in the distance. “Shit shit shit-” Big arms wrap around you, “Are you alright? Shit-”

The swinging pub doors slam-

“What happened?”

“The bride from upstairs-”

“She’s still here?! She already dead or what?”

More and more voices are joining in - and you’re not sure if you’re thankful that they drown out that harrowing thunder of blood in your ears or angry that they’re making it ache more deafeningly in response. 

“Please- space.” Gojo’s stern command rings across the plaza, for a moment of clarity you’re thinking that he’d make the perfect leader of sorts. The perfect prince. “My wife needs space, and you all will leave-”

Nanami’s strict tremor was distinguishable anywhere. “What she needs is to go back upstairs, Gojo.” Another pair of rough hands grasp your shoulders, and you hear a growl from above you. “With fresh air, with her kind. I don’t know what fantasy you’re playing out but she needs to be back with the breathers, down here isn’t good for her.”

“But-”

Just at that unfortunate moment, your head wracks with another painful burst, making you cry out. Clinging onto Gojo’s soft jacket for dear life. 

“But she’s my wife.”

Everyone goes quiet. 

You were sure he was crying now, and oh how badly you wanted to reach out and comfort him. But, instead, Gojo’s the one soothing a hand down your back, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. He breathes in deep, grounding gasps by the chain of your locket, “N-nanamin’s right- we- I have to get you back.”

Your eyes shoot open, “What- no-”

“It’s for your own good.” Pressing a slow kiss to your forehead, “Trust me.”

“But-”

“Please?”

---

Gojo Satoru had spent so long in the darkness, that he’d almost forgotten how beautiful the moonlight is.

Even more so when you were by his side. 

“Oh…” And despite not having a beating heart, he swears he could feel it racing at the crisp scrunch! of freshly fallen snow underneath his polished shoes. Arms immediately wrapping around your waist, twirling you to him, “How I missed the beautiful upstairs.”

You’re giggling, batting your lashes up at him. “Well, you’re not doing much sightseeing right now, are you, Gojo?”

“Please.” He rests his icy forehead against yours, waltzing you slowly around the clearing. Your first dance. “Call me Satoru, I would like to part ways having heard my name on your tongue once, than not at all.” 

And ah, it hurt him more than that dull, spreading pain of death to simply see your expression crumble. Lower lip wobbling when you whisper, “Do we have to?”

It’s as if that tiny tremble in your voice jolts him back to his senses, and he’s letting go of you as if you burned. Turning his back so that you won’t see him swipe underneath his dampening eyes, “We do.” he nods solemnly. Still gazing out through the barren trees, the snow breaking in. “But I would…if you’d like- I would really like you to say my name just once.”

Nothing - not one of your quipping insults, not even one of your sweet, sweet giggles. Gojo could barely even hear that shallow breathing of yours. 

“My love?”

Nothing.

Gojo whirls around, “My love?”

Nothing. 

---

“Let me go let me- go-” you spit, voice dripping with a deadly growl that should decidedly not be used in front of your future in-laws. But you didn’t give a fuck right now. “I will never- ah-”

Unceremoniously, you’re thrown like a mere debris in front of Dutchess Zenin’s gold-tipped boots, hands splaying out against the cool marble to dredge up some ounce of balance. You look up into her burning glare, hissing, “I will never marry your son.” 

But it’s like you’d never spoken at all.

She’s turning to Naoya, stood proudly behind you, holding back his snickers. “Ah, my son-” Reaching her arms around to brush off the soft pattering of snow down his coat. “-I see you’ve brought your wife back.”

“Of course, mother.” he’s humming. “Had to walk all throughout that crummy forest until I saw her-” At this, he’s turning towards your parents, who could only watch from the sidelines. “-with another man no less- well, can’t quite call him that if he didn’t even see his woman being dragged off into the dark.”

Dutchess Zenin cackles,and the sound makes you grit your teeth. “That other man is my husband-”

“What?” 

It’s your own mother speaking this time - eyes widened. Fuming. She comes up to you in a few urgent, sharp strides, grabbing at the now-torn and frayed edges of your gown. “What nonsense are you speaking-” Sneaking a glance at your father, “Our daughter seems to have lost her mind, dear.”

He’s just a bit more gentle - cautious, almost. As if confronting a cornered wildcat when he ruffles through your pockets for the ring. Finding none. 

You’re wrenching yourself away, “I’m fine- but father, listen- I was practicing my vows in the forest-” Every eye was on you know, and oh you’ve never felt more of a spectacle. “-and I put that wedding ring on a tree root- and it- it came alive and oh- he was a groom. A beautiful corpse groom-”

“That trip to the forest must have bogged up her mind- yes yes, she must be imagining things.”

“Of course, but the wedding…poor dear-”

“The only thing she’s good for is the money.” Dutchess Zenin gruffs, tired of hiding her disdain. “And maybe a free trip to the hospi-”

“The wedding will take place.” Naoya cuts in gruffly, snapping his fingers at a nearby attendant and pointing at you. “Call the officiary, and as for my future bride, I don’t care if you must force her into that wedding dress, I don’t care if you have to drag her here - she will marry me one way or the other. Now.”

It’s like you’re a puppet - their puppet. Being rapidly walked and bathed about, dolled-up in a white, silken wedding dress that you could never see yourself standing in next to him. 

It fits you like a glove, attuned to your body as if it was made for you - and you almost hated how beautiful it was, adorned with tiny silver inklings and the most delicate of lace. Made with too much love to be borne out of this dreary household, but when you turned to ask your jittery handmaiden about it, she’d only cryptically answered about “the dress being with this family for a long, long time.”

No one here seems to give you answers.

Or grace.

Or anything but locked windows that you crack a nail or two attempting to open and flee and a long, decorated aisle to walk down to your future husband. Naoya. 

Your throat tightens when you’re stepping back into that hallway - now flourishing with bouquets of blue, blue baby’s breath, and twinkling candles. It was almost colorful, for this town, at least.

You shudder out a teary sigh when the tender piano starts up again - the exact same tune you’d played with Gojo. But cold. And suddenly, you’re realizing that you never asked him how he knew the song.

“Pssst! Walk!” Your mother’s high-pitched hiss is enough to snap you out of your little reverie, glassy eyes snapping up to look at her urgent signal to hurry up.

And so you walk, but not to the one man you wanted to.

Naoya’s smirk lies as smugly as ever when you take your place beside him at the altar, poised, and perfect in his pressed suit, his glinting sword. Whispering snidely from the corner of his mouth. “Smile a little, it’s a wedding after all.”

You keep your gaze trained firmly on the officiary starting his speech, “Perhaps in disappointment, we are perfectly matched.”

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this bride in holy matrimony-” Gesturing a wrinkled hand at Naoya, “You may begin first.”

He raises his hand in a solemn oath, razor eyes boring relentlessly into yours. Voice dangerous, humming. “With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.” This time, he was pointedly the one to pick up that cup on the altar table - a steady, unbreakable metal this time. “Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.” 

Your trembly fingers wrap around the bottle of wine, starting to slowly pour. “With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never be empty for I- I will be…”

Shit.

Shit, you can’t do it. 

Your words struggle to come out, and you could burn in the sheer anger already wafting from Naoya. 

“I will- I will be-”

“How scandalous to marry an already-married woman~!”

The gasp that echoes throughout the hall is almost as deafening as the booming crash! of those towering, mahogany doors being swung open. Clattering against the walls so hard that your teeth chatter with vibration - but you didn’t care. Didn’t even feel it because you’re too awe-struck by what was standing in front of you.

Or more accurately, who. 

“Satoru!” The tears are falling hotly down your cheeks, you barely have the patience to lift up your layers upon layers of gauzy skirts before stumbling your way into his arms at the very end of the aisle. Ready. Ever-loving. Catching you easily like he’d been waiting a hundred years for this very moment. 

“I thought you left me waiting.” he breathes.

“I would never- and- and you’re here.” 

“Mhm–”

You can’t help but let out a laugh, “How did you even know where to find me?”

“Our duet- there would be no other but this house that would know it-” He wraps his arms even more snugly around your waist, white locks tickling your nose. “And you did promise to lift my sorrows, what type of husband would I be if I didn’t do the same?”

“You. You- What- what is the meaning of this?” Dutchess Zenin’s squawk tears through your little moment, she’s whirling into a furious stand, fists clenched. “Married woman- husband? You’re dead!”

Gojo remains calm, sapphire eyes narrowing, “I am.”

But the ever-composed woman you’d feared for so long was now running her mouth a mile a minute, half-ripping out chunks of hair in frustration as the officiary held her back from storming her way towards the two of you. 

“You’re dead you’re dead you’re dead-” she screeches, and even Naoya could only watch with his mouth fallen. “You’re dead- my family made sure of that-”

She stops short, mouth opening and closing in a gasp until you breathe, “M-made sure?”

“Yes-” She’s fighting against the hold, still muttering to herself maniacally. “Shit- we made sure to- oh god why- do we have to kill you all over again! Your wretched Gojo royal family is wiped out- I still- I still have the power, the riches- All because we left you-”

“For dead.” he whispers. You’re too shocked to gasp - to do anything but look up at his reaction. “But she came back to me.”

“Her? This one- Once more you found that insignificant little-”

And at this very moment, Naoya just bellows in a guttural scream, everything his mother was restrained from doing with how he’d closed the gap between you two in a few urgent seconds. One hand wrapped roughly around yours, “I don’t care- You forget she was engaged to me first.”

“She’s still my wife.” Gojo spits. 

“Not if you’re-” Naoya’s unsheathing his sword haphazardly. Swinging. “Dead!”

Schwing–!

It would have been sure to hit you. 

Would have been sure to gravely injure your side - if Gojo hadn’t deftly moved himself squarely in front of you, that is. The sharp blade slicing right through his ribs - yet, he still smiles. “You forget I already am.” In one, fluid motion tackling the sword to holt at its bejeweled hilt - pointed right at Naoya’s chest. “Let go of me and my wife, before you join me.”

It’s silence.

Silence and the smell of fear. Sour, and saturated when Naoya’s stepping away, one unsteady foot after the other-

“I will ruin you as my ancestors have, Gojo brat-”

Dutchess Zenin.

Your body moves before your mind - before any form of thinking, as if on instinct. Yet, you already knew what was coming. 

And soon enough, you’re standing in front of a stunned Gojo, face splattered with the red, red wine in her silvery cup. Drip! drip! dripping down your stained lips and onto the marbled floors. 

But something about it tasted bitter. 

Different.

.

.

.

And all of a sudden - you see dark.

“Poison! By gods, the wine was poisoned!”

“How will the wedding go on?”

“No- no no no I just wanted to her sick- to get her will–shit-”

“My love---listen----hear--me?” 

In the foggy distance, you could hear girlish, high-pitched screams that sounded strangely like Naoya’s, and the familiarly dark chuckle of- Sukuna? Sounding ready to pounce on fresh meat. “Heheh, new arrival - and some unfinished business, huh?”

“S’Toru–” you’re whispering, eyes blearily. Heart cold. Suddenly, everything about you was cold. And the only thing you could register right now is the fact that you were still in his arms - always was. “Toru- am I- where am I?”

“You’re here, sweetheart.” he gasps, big fat tears splattering onto your face. The only sense of warmth that you could feel, other than the one in your no-longer-beating heart. And you can’t help but wonder - can a heart be broken even when it stops beating? Because he was living two deaths now - his own - laying there poisoned with wine so long ago on the forest floor, with only the Zenin’s to watch, and you to wait for him much later - and most importantly, yours. “You’re- you’re here, with me.” He places a sweet, sweet kiss onto your lips. “Rest now, I’ll wait for you. I promise- I promise.” 

And through your hazy vision, the only thing that you could quite see was that silver locket you’d never thought to look through, out of fear - sprung open. Baring two grainy, clouded portraits - as good as a photo. 

Of him 

And…you. 

“I’ll always wait for you, in life and death.”

---

“Hey- Toru–” your voice rings out in Gojo’s favorite song, peering curiously at the boyishly grinning prince. “Do you think I’ll be an unfit wife?”

He throws his head back with a cackle, peering through his long lashes from where he was resting his head in your lap. “What- no? Whatever makes you think that, silly girl?”

You’re settling yourself further down the young oak - your favorite little hiding spot ever since you’d introduced your secret lover to it. Grumbling half-jokingly, you thread your fingers through his soft, snow-white hair. “Well perhaps because someone refuses to help me do anything in preparation for tonight-”

“Shhh!” Gojo’s bringing a finger to his lips, glancing around over-dramatically. “You never know when my father will be jumping from behind the bushes.” At your amused laughter, “N’ besides, doesn’t matter if we’re going to elope, I’m not letting my wife pick up a thing.”

“What- no-”

“I’ll snag my wedding suit- and that specially-made dress for you heh- and get the attendants to sneak out some leftovers from the banquet. The Zenin family has just gifted some wine I know you’ll love.” 

Craning his head to press a slow kiss to your forehead, “We’ll drink, we’ll say our vows- you better have memorized them this time-” And another on your nose, “Then I’ll have you drunk in another way~ ow! Okay okay- don’t hit royalty–! And run away to our happily ever after.” Then, finally, lingeringly on your mouth,“Trust me.”

“But-”

“Please?”

You’re fiddling with the chain around your hefty, heart-shaped locket with a huff, finally caving in. “Fine- but then-” Deftly unclasping it, “-you have the responsibility of keeping this safe, too, I have to teach piano to the little ones in town again today, and if anyone catches me with a piece like this I’ll be hanged for thievery before ever getting married.”

“Our duet?”

“Our duet.”

He twirls that delicate pendant around his fingers, brows scrunching in half-seriousness. “I’ll protect it with my life-” Almost flinging it towards the end of the clearing in his haste to salute you, “Ah- pardon my enthusiasm, my love.”

“I like your enthusiasm, dummy.” you’re rolling your eyes at his antics. “But what if I’m late? The music lessons always take so long…”

“Just meet me here at our place - promise I’ll wait for you, of course. In life and death.”

You never did find out if Gojo Satoru waited for you.

You never found him that night - running late to the clearing, only to be met with no sign of him. Not that night. Not the night after. Night after night, you waited for him - watched as the Gojo royal family fell and the Zenin’s raided their palace, as the town started to grow and you stayed the very same.

With stray hope, even in your final ages, waiting for him and the marriage that won’t take place.

Not for a hundred years.

---

You’re waking up remembering the feeling of those cold, cold lips on yours. 

Finally, remembering.

“Sa-Toru-” you’re gasping, gulping in heavy lungfuls of air before you realize - you don’t need it anymore. Eyes startling open, you wince at the even the dim, heady lighting overhead. “I’m…”

“Dead.”

His words are gentle - just above a whisper, as if anything else will scare you off. But his words have the complete opposite reaction, in fact, you’re reeling him in so close by the silvery lapels of his weathered jacket. Wedding suit meeting your wedding dress.

You feel over his broad chest, and then over yours. Breathing out in awe, “I- I really am dead.”

Gojo’s wincing, running the soft pads of his fingers down your scalp. Massaging, “How- how do you feel, my love?”

Too-late you’re realizing that you’re splayed out on what seems like a plush, engulfing bed. Blankets upon blankets of velvety fabrics covering the surface, like someone had tried their very best to replicate warmth. 

“I think I feel…” you’re muttering, the very corners of your painted lips turning upwards at the way that Gojo was hanging onto your every word. Pretty mouth dropped into a soft oh! eyes wide and true. You just can’t help but drag him into the tightest embrace your joints could possibly handle. “-that I haven’t spent enough alone-time with my husband.”

He laughs - he laughs and laughs like he hasn’t before, like it’d been bubbling up in his throat for years and finally set free. 

“Oh, my love.” Gojo reveres, pressing a trail of hot kisses down the side of your face. Lingering in a languid lick where big, salty tears of yours were welling up. “We have all the time in the world- I just- just- do you remember?”

You’re pretending to think, leaving him careening at all your minute expressions. Finally cracking, “Of course, I remember- all of it, dummy-” Swatting his chest, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He’s gulping heavily, “I always knew that- that it was you the moment I saw your face- you look exactly as you did. Exactly as beautiful as the day I lost you, after all.” Cupping your cheek, “And oh, sweetheart, what a blessing it would be to marry you. But how could I ever tell you when you didn’t even remember me? How could I so selfishly ask you to throw away something so dear as life for me? Even for a promise?”

“I would have done it.” you’re pouting, brows scrunching. 

“Exactly.” 

“I waited for you, y’know. For years, until my death. No ‘deserving husband’, and no children.”

He gasps a tiny, meaningful gasp. And for all how Gojo loved to run his mouth, right now he only presses a sultry kiss to your forehead, “But in this life, or the last, or whatever comes next-” On your nose now, “-I’ll wait for you. Always have, always will.” Finally - yearningly - on your mouth, “In life and in death.”

Gojo kisses you like he’s been waiting a hundred years for it - and would wait a hundred more before he can again. 

Pressing one, two. Three steamingly hot, open-mouthed on your spit-glossed lips before moving to trail them down the underside of your jaw. Dragging his raw lips in a messy glide, he’s tittering when all it takes is one sudden bite at the soft spot on your neck to get you to jump. 

“Heh- you never change-” he murmurs into your heated skin, licking down the sting with a slow spread of his tongue. 

“T-Toru–” you’re managing to gasp out despite his relentless attack on your mouth. Making him wrench out such a pained grunt when you pull his face back ever-so-slightly to look into Gojo’s eyes. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Gojo can only cock his head in confusion, gaze still half-lidded and locked on your lips. 

“You’re forgetting your promise from all those years ago–” you’re dragging out in a honeyed-tone, giggling at the way his hulking body squirms impatiently. “-to consummate our marriage.”

And oh.

Oh, Gojo Satoru feels he’s dying six times over already. 

He feels like his bleary head is about to go into overdrive - as was the sudden tightening in his pants. 

“W-well then…” he’s rasping out, voice so ragged, dipping into a husky baritone that for a second you almost don’t recognize it. Two of his long fingers cup your face once more - rougher this time, making your lips squeeze together into an almost-embarrassing oh! “Open that mouth f’me, my love.”

You barely even realize it when you do - not until Gojo’s spitting a thick, translucent wad of his syrupy saliva right onto your lolling tongue. 

Nodding smugly when you’re taking him all, he’s swiping the curve of his thick thumb down that purposeful splatter on the corner of your lips. Because you knew the prince of a nation should have perfect aim, you knew he just liked seeing your dewy eyes flutter. 

Whispering hoarsely against your lips, “I ask you to be mine.”

“Yes-” you’re whining, your hands scrambling down the decadent fabrics of his suit. “Yes yes yes- please- n-need more, Toru-”

And the sound of that cute lil’ nickname you’d made for him in that sweetened tone makes Gojo’s entire body wrack with a violent shudder. Head throwing back, white lashes flickering shut- “O-oh, shit- shit you’re gonna be the death of me-”

But whatever little joke playing on your tongue just dissipates when Gojo’s shedding his outer coat off slowly. Bloodied, silken jacket hitting the ground- bloodied? You’ll have to ask about that later.

And then his mouth is on yours again - teeth clashing, tasting metal, his pretty lips wrapping around your hot tongue to just suck. Lazily, like his favorite candy. 

“So beautiful-” his words puff out in a feverish pant. Chest huffing - no, heaving - you can only keen when you feel something so hard and massive nudge up in a gentle kiss against your high. “So perfect–” The sodden curve of his achy tip dragging in a wet smear down your leg. “So mine.”

As soon as you’re blinking your dazed eyes back open, you’re hit with what looked like miles upon miles of Gojo Satoru. Curving muscles sitting prettily and casting shadow in the low lighting - it made you just drool. 

Shit, when did he even take his shirt off?

“Heh, already so needy, sweetheart?” He kisses up the glossy trickle, groaning into your mouth, “So cute–”

But, of course, you weren’t exactly one to be pushed around, either.

With a low purr, you cup that bulging tent right in-between his muscled thighs. Fingers skimming over inches upon inches of his girthy, solid shaft - he just gasps. “O-oh, you little minx- do you enjoy p-playing with my hngh- sanity?”

With a snicker, it doesn’t take you long to smudge the pads of your digits at that thickly spreading pool of precum. Glossing a thin sheen all the way down to your wrists with how fucking greedily he was throbbing at your touch. 

“F-fuck-” he’s hastily clearing his throat as soon as it breaks off into a pathetic whine. Hips bucking forwards in mindless, staggering gyrations into your hand like Gojo didn’t even realize what he was doing right now. “Fuck fuck fuck- honey, I-”

The neediest little grunts spill from his puffed-up lips, and he’s moving urgently - hastily, when sitting upright to all but rip that bejeweled belt off of his slender waist. Tugging his white pants down, down, down and-

Oh. 

“Fuck, Toru.”

Gojo was so unfairly pretty - all of him.

Even every single inch of his long, thick shaft, smeared with glistening precum sobbing out from his fat, round head. Blushed darker than the rest of him - matching his innocent cheeks right now. So hard it looked painful. 

Twitching over and over in saturated gushes coating his prominently throbbing veins, his tight balls. Your fingers. 

Wrapping tight around his flushed base, he was so incredibly big that you’re worried your fingers wouldn’t even close. Scratching up against those drenched tufts of cloudy white at his toned pelvis, the sight is enough to make you gulp. 

“Yes-” Gojo’s rasping, head thrown back because shit did it feel good to have your pretty lil’ fingers all wrapped around him. Hips stuttering up, up, up- “Yes yes yes- c’mon- c-c’mon my wife-”

Shit, those words spilling from his lips are enough to steer into such a loud moan, and he’s letting his jaw fall unhinged. Jaw-droppingly powerful back muscles flexing when he falls into a hunch, kissing wetly at your lips. 

“Tighter- squeeze ah, squeeze me at my tip-” Gojo’s babbling, drunken eyes so thoroughly locked on where you were pumping your fist back and forth. “Y-yeah hngh- and glide your thumb over just—”

You’re swiping the very tip of your thumb underneath that sensitive slit of his, the slightest touch enough to make him bawl out in a dripping sheen of precum. Reddening even more, his hefty girth in your hand jolts sensitively. 

“S-s’this–” you stagger out, wrist aching when you’re moving it faster. And faster. Ears ringing with the sloppy fap! fap! fap! of your fingers clenching around his thick, circular girth, the splatters of precum it’s forcing from him. Kissing gently down his burning shoulder, “S’this good, Toru?”

And god, how dare you even ask that?

With a sudden groan, he crashes his lips into yours again. Addicted. Growling against your whiny mouth, you’re flinching at the nip of his sharp canines. 

“Oh, yer perfect-” he’s blinking back big, fat tears from behind those glassy eyes. And the soft plane of his palms dance ravenously down your body - all your curves, your dips where your wedding dress was hiking up. But most importantly at your sopping wet cunt. “-so so- p-perfect- any harder n’ m’gonna make ya a pretty momma right now, right here.”

His words come out a burst - a beg. 

In that very heady moment he’s just bullying his thick digits past your soaked pussy - absolutely useless with how fucking translucent it was. Sticking to your sopping wet folds like a second skin that he wanted to rip off. 

“S-so oh!” Sucking in a sharp gasp at the sight of that tiny lace wrapped around his fingers, “Such a pretty cunt, wearin’ such a dirty lil’ thing, naughty girl- who was this for?”

And you couldn’t dare bear to wrench your lips open, to meet that dark glint in Gojo’s gaze. Hooded, such a slow, leering grin growing all over his face when the seconds tumble by. When your softened fingers falter around his length.

“Who was this for?” he’s echoing. “N’ no lying to your h-husband.”

“Toru-”

“Tell me, my pretty wife.”

“It was-” you’re mewling out, choking on your tiny confession when he slides his index solidly down the drippingly wet purse of your swollen pussy lips. Puffed-up and sensitive against where he was rubbing that cool metal ring against them. “-w-was for ngh- N-Naoya- but it was Dutchess Zenin that made me-”

Oh, but fuck - it didn’t matter who made you wear those sinful panties. 

Because it’s only taking Gojo Satoru a split-second to crane his hot mouth downwards and bite down on the very hem of your saturated panties. Biting the edge of your skin only slightly - before just tearing the fabric off with his very teeth. 

He takes a few seconds with his greedy gaze boring into yours, crazed. Canines bared glintingly around that tender lace, he just groans. 

Eyes rolling to the back of his head before spitting it out - and kissing you like you’ve never been kissed before. 

“H-hngh, Toru–” you’re moaning, your fingers half-cramping up with the way they were turning around his swollen cock. Swiveling around the heated bumps of his sensitive spots, the drag of your nails gently down his veins make him shiver. “Feels so- ah!”

And ah, for how much Gojo loved those saccharine sweet moans in your ear, how much he loved teasing you - he was hungry. 

Shoveling all the way into your gummy channel, until your puffy pussy lips were kissing his very knuckles, gushing out in spurts of wet slick down his wrist. Twirling those cold digits, so stark against how toasty you were inside. 

It made Gojo’s thickened tip twitch in your fingers, huffing out a humorless laugh when he was easily knocking against that bulbous bullseye of your g-spot. Pressing down. Hard. 

“Mhm—” he’s purring, nosing down the tender crook of your neck. “Tell me how it feels- hngh- gotta tell me- fuck oh fuck don’ squeeze me like that- ah-”

He’s just wrenching out the most dripping squelches with each rummaging pump into your melty cunt, your walls were just molding around his digits. Sucking him back in like you’re trying to milk out something delicious- fuck, how he wished this was his achy cock right now, instead.

Gojo’s biting down hard at that magical spot on your neck, sending shocks of electricity down your sluttily arched spine. “Can’t- hah- can’t take it anymore- shit- needa be inside you soon. Needa fill ya up soon.”

And he didn’t even have to tell you - you could feel it. 

Building up and up with every relentless such of his glistening fingers. Glossy. 

“Need to make you mine-” he’s gasping, heatedly. Tone cracking on almost a bawl, his hips are fucking into your hand like his little cocksleeve, up all the way from weepy head down to thwack into his pulsing base. Fingers bumping messily into his taut, twitchy balls - making Gojo’s mouth water. “Need to- hngh- need to make you cum! Please-”

Tears crinkling at the very ends of his doe eyes, after every single crash along your sweet spot. Thorough wet glides. “Please please please-”

And it’s whispered over and over like a mantra when you’re cumming - again and again, so hard that you didn’t even realize you’re reaching your high before your tight pussy clamps around his fingers. 

“Yeah- yeah yeah, cum all over my fingers.” He’s thrusting his fingers in and out so rabidly, hitting all your forbidden spots. Free hand pushing apart your quivering thighs even further, “Spread wide- heheh, yeahhh–”

Those sudden slurps sounded so thunderous in your ears, and your maw sags open deliriously in a higher-pitched ah! ah! ah! Grinding your hips down over and over in needy swivels, using him. Music to his ears, making his staggering erection just weep so dangerously- but he can’t cum. 

Won’t cum just yet. 

Not until he’s fucked you through each and every one of your peaks, not until your convulses are tapering out into nothing but tiny tingles. 

And then he’s dragging out his ruined fingers from your sodden cunt - out, out, out. Snapping delicate strings of the mess he’s made of your poor pussy, before pushing them through his lips rawly. 

“M-mmm-” he’s rumbling from the very depths of his broad chest, pecs heaving. And through your half-lucid gaze, you’re spying a silvery dribble of drool down the side of his lips. Moaning at the sweet, sweet taste. “Shit- shit, sweetheart-”

You can’t even react before he’s then spitting a steady stream of wispy saliva down to your sloppy hole, swirling it around with one of his thumbs. 

“Better let her know m’coming back for seconds later.”

You whine all brattily, your hips arching into the perfect buck upwards - which only makes him grin. “Heh- my greedy girl, if I waited one hundred years ya can wait a few seconds.”

It’s so admonishing - and Gojo has never told a bigger lie. 

Because he’s the one that’s so painfully impatient right now, angry cock spewing out a few more velvety waves of precum down your gleaming palm. A low string of profanity rips from his throat, and he’s just diving his hands around every inch of your body he could reach.

Deftly untangling those tedious ties at the back, “Damn these little- forgot how many ribbons I fuckin’- ordered-”

In split-seconds, you’re being flipped over with one fluid push of Gojo’s biceps, sinking your front into the royally soft mattress. You felt like you were in heaven.

“Toru–” you’re whirling your head over your shoulder to admire just how much his biceps flex. Twitching with each eager rip down your bodice. Shaky fingers tightening on the silken sheets, “H-hurry up-”

“Easy there, my love.”

It’s ragged, breathed hotly against your ear, and suddenly Gojo’s resting every bit of his body weight on top of yours to pin you down helplessly onto the bed. Holding your squirming hips captive onto one rough hand attached to them, “Arch jus’ a bite more- please- fuuuck like that yeah-”

He’s taking the opportunity to fling your wedding dress down easily, bunching it somewhere towards the corner of the bedroom - right alongside your bra and inner layers. 

You’re gasping - stunned. 

“Don’t l-look at me like that, I’ve had one hundred hah- years to practice this exact moment with my hand n’ imagination-” 

And then Gojo’s gasping, he’s snapping his eyes open, he’s heaving out the most whiny call of your name when you push your hips back in a wet slide against his painfully hard cock. 

Your folds smacking wetly against his shaft, dragging in a dripping trail along his veins - and shit, Gojo really underestimated how fucking hot you’d feel against his cock. How readily awaiting when his slender hips rut down in a furious push and pull. “This is long overdue.”

“Hey!” you jut your spit-sheen lower lip out when he’s rudely smacking away your hand from the clasp of your locket. “Wha’s that for?”

“Keep it on.” Gojo nips at your earlobe.

And then he’s spitting you open - he’s pushing in. 

Inch by fucking inch of his swelteringly hot cock being shovelled into your gooey cunt, stretching out your snug walls to their limits. Pulled taut. Barely giving an apologetic kiss to the side of your head before Gojo’s circling one big beefy arm around your hips, easily tilting your entire body upwards for him to surge his hips even deeper. 

He gasps, he shudders at the faintest of your wet clenches. “C’mon-c’mon c’mon c’mon- a-ah- you can take it please- please take it f’me.” 

How could you not?

Because every one of his tiny, shallow grinds just to fit in have your mouth dropping further and further open cockdrunkenly. 

“Please-” your hands fist at the plushy pillows, the headboards, craning behind at Gojo’s neck. “Fuck me h-harder, Toru- I can-”

“Ohhh- you play a hah- dangerous game.” He swipes away the stray hairs on your forehead, kissing at your sweat-slicked forehead. “My beautiful bride- my beautiful, beautiful bride - ah- almost makes me wanna m-make you more.”

Just that split-second of sultry shock is enough for Gojo to push in fully - all the way until your thighs sting with the sudden thwack! of his hefty, cum-filled balls, your folds kissing up against his thickened base.

He’s hissing when his achy, rounded tip recoils ever-so-slightly against the spongy mess of your cervix, hitting it relentlessly in harsh jackhammer. Spearheading his fat cock to massage up against all your sensitive spots in a more dizzying way than even his fingers could. 

“Wh-what do you m-mean-” They’re falling from your mouth as hastily as Gojo can pump you stuffed full of his cock. Not even easing into it, starting up a sloppy cadence. “-b-by–”

“Awww, don’ hngh- p-push yourself, my love–” he’s simpering out. But oh his hips were speaking a completely different language from how soothing your husband’s tone was, one hand curling deftly around your throat to reel you in even harsher in sudden swats against his ever-pushing hips. Twirling around the chain of your locket, “What I mean is…”

Both of your half-lidded gazes are downturned to where he feels for that tiny nudge at about halfway down your stomach. Drawing an imaginary line about halfway through, before splaying down all five digits. Hard. “-that m’gonna make ya a pretty momma as well as my pretty wife.”

This little confession is followed by a particularly hard slam! from Gojo’s end, and you dart your hand out to grasp desperately onto the wooden headboard. 

Crying out, “Is- is that even possible, Toru?”

But the only actual response that Gojo can give - that he thinks himself capable of giving right now, with how mind-numbingly your pretty pussy was milking any rationality out of him - is a breathless chuckle. His head throwing back with a whimper, brows knitting together. “I don’t know hah! Haven’t got a fuckin’ clue- but that doesn’t mean m’not gonna fucking try–”

And he was fucking you into the mattress just like it, well and fully intent on breeding your tight cunt. Jostling the locket at your chest with rough, reckless abandon. Every sodden drag down your slobbery walls having those dreams from a lifetime ago about your happily every after playing through his mind.

You, with your drooling pussy painted all white with his potent cum, making such a mess of him that he just has to do it all over again, of course. 

You, all round and glowing - full of him, his heir. 

You, looking up at him with those gorgeous eyes - another, tinier set held delicately in your hands. His hair, and your smile. Everything that he’s ever wanted in life and death. 

Stupidly. Pussydrunkenly. 

“Oh oh-” Gojo’s groaning, the sudden bump of your fingers against the sensitive curve of his balls making him jolt back into his reality. His heavenly, heavenly reality. “Aww, have I b-been neglecting you, my love?”

No, you want to scream - but you can’t. 

Because he’s only hiking up a powerful thigh to pressurize his harrowing rams with even more power, and you could feel every flex and ripple of his washboard abs. The spatter of pearlescent beads of sweat setting in with fatigue. 

But Gojo wouldn’t listen in the first place, couldn’t even think of anything that didn’t stem from his achy cock pummeling into you. 

Messily, he’s swiping at those fingers of yours that were currently reaching for your angrily puffy clit, aching for more more more- 

Giving a mean little smack onto where your sensitive nub was drenched in all your sweetened juices, it sends bolts of electricity all over your body. Clinging your gummy walls around his girth so tight. 

“This what y-you wanted?” he rasps by your ear, drawing slow, determined circles on the very peak of your clit. And when that doesn’t have you crying out all prettily for him the way he wanted - Gojo just tugs. Unapologetically. “Tell me- ngh- tell me how it feels, fuck- can feel this cunt gettin’ so soaked-”

“Yes-” you’re sobbing out. Hips now aching with the burn of pushing back into his unrelenting hips - it hurts almost. The sting of his skin against you, the hard collision of his fat head against your cervix. But you want more. “Y-yes feels so good, Toru- need more hngh- need you t-to…”

“What?” he’s spitting. Wild. “Tell me, sweetheart- please- please-”

And, hell, Gojo Satoru wanted to hear so badly that he’s just slowing his hips down every so slightly to let you catch your breath. To answer. 

But what he was actually blessed with was another one of your long, drawn-out whines. Grumbling ever-so-slightly as you jolt your hips back with every one of the thorough swivels of his fingers on your clit. Toying. 

Fucking back harder than ever into his rock-hard dick, the locket just slams it’s cool branding onto the heated skin of your chest-

“Need you to f-fill me up-” you mutter wetly, nothing more than a few gurgles wrenched out when his clashing head French-kisses your g-spot. Drawing wet glides of his steamy precum down it. “-make me a hngh- m-momma, Toru-”

Oh, this might just be his third death ever. 

Because the bed creaks riotously with every one of his ragged rams, in a way that made you glad for the ever-present music of this town. 

Over and over.

“Yeah- shit, gonna make you a p-pretty momma-” he’s babbling away, a mile a minute. So sloppy that you’re barely able to understand what Gojo was saying. “Fill you- up- ngh- so they’ll look at you and see me. All me- all pretty and r-round- me me me- oh—”

Right now, Gojo didn’t give a fuck if his little dream was even possible. He didn’t give a fuck if his moans were turning into whimper, staggering thrusts trudging into the sloppiest of grinds. The neediest. 

Because right now you were cumming. 

That rapid throb of your clit increasing twofold when you’re finally plummeting into your high, wave after wave of pleasure that he fucks you through with heavy pound after pound. 

Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, toes curling, flashes of white flitting behind your firmly shut eyes. Fuck, it felt so good. 

And your fingers clench hard around where they were still firmly stationed on the headboard to keep at least an ounce of your sanity. Intertwining with- Gojo’s when he slams his hand down hard enough that the entire bed shudders. 

Or maybe that was just him - because so was he. 

“F-finally-” Gojo’s hiccuping, angling his head just right to be able to catch your pretty lips in what could barely be considered a kiss. Just a sloppy suck of your tongue while he pumps you snugly full of sloshing loads of his cum. “Wan’ed this for- so long- finally hngh- consummate- you- most beautiful ah momma-”

His whines were nonsensical at this point, only growing more and more so with each velvety ribbon of cum being poured around into your tight pussy. You could feel it swashing about your soft walls with every one of your hard, convulsing clenches, painting your insides over and over again in a second, sticky skin of his seed. 

“Yeah- fuck fuck fuck, yeah Toru- hah- m-more-”

And just when Gojo thought the almost-painful clenches of his heavy balls were coming to a close, just when he thought his thick streams of voluminous cum were stretching out into thinner wisps - you have to go and say those syrupy sweet words. 

Fuck. 

He’s gasping, locking his finger with yours even harder on the headboard, “Gonna- ngh- gonna be the death of me I s-swear–”

Oh, and then you looked at him with that fucked-out smile of yours. A sight he’s gifted to see. Humming, “In life and in death, r-remember?”

Bang! 

The headboard crashes down onto the floor. Your back is hitting the now utterly drenched sheet below you before the realization hits you. 

In nothing but a split-second, Gojo pulls out his dangerously twitching cock to manhandle you flatly onto your back. Swiftly, he throws your legs over the curvaceous deltoids of his sculpted shoulder, easily bending you down, down, down into half.

Into the meanest mating press possible.

Dredges of thick, hot cum just ooze down your sopping slit, spreading in a milky circle underneath you. And slobbering down Gojo’s swollen hilt as soon as he plugs himself back in - immediately.

The very divot at the end of his cock quivering - for only a split-second before bursting out in streams of more and more cum. Overflowing. Overspilling out of you.

And he can’t help but glide an open palm over that tiny inflation beginning to form where he’d drawn a line just earlier. One hand pressing down on it hard, the other tweaking at your clit to make your walls clench. 

“Oh f-fuck yeah–” Gojo stutters at the glossy coating of his own seed all around him. Reveling in the toasty feeling again and again until his poor, overworked cock can only sputter out wispy strings of nothing. Shooting blanks. “Gonna breed ya- make ya all round and and- ngh full until you c-can’t take anymore. Until we hahh- have that happy ending y-you wanted.”

You mewl when he’s licking away those glistening tears rolling down your cheeks, “-happy ending w-we wanted hngh- Toru–”

“Yeah-” he chuckles. Pecking at your lips with that salty sweet taste on his tongue, “We wanted. It’s why I didn’t reincarnate like you, my love, unfinished hngh- business here s’to spend a long, long and happy marriage with you, y’know?”

You bat your lashes in sweet disbelief, “That’s- that’s mine, too.”

Ah, he reels you in even closer into his arms. Snug. Ever-loving. Seemingly like he’d never let you go ever again - couldn’t bear to. 

He nuzzles against that now-open locket, eyes peering down at those bleary paintings of you two, as loving as if they were taken just today. And in the back of his fried mind, he makes a note to take newer photos for later. Fingers tracing their familiar pathway to press down on the outer edges of the metal - in only the way he knew how, in the way that you should have been taught all those years ago, but was never able to. 

“Then-” His eyes light up as they always did whenever it came to you, when the tiny mechanisms on the locket open up to reveal a delicate, gorgeous ring. Strangely matching his own. Gojo doesn’t think he’s done anything easier in his life when he slides that ring onto your finger, fitting so perfectly. Not even when he was waiting for you, not even when he’d taken care of Naoya in a way that left his coat spattered and stained with red. “-we’re both lucky.”

It’s only after a few soft, lingering kisses that Gojo finally pulls away - like it hurt to.

And it did, sensitive shockwaves erupting down his overwhelmed length. But none of that shows above his drunken grin when Gojo’s shuffling down the bed, all the way until his hot breath was puffing up feverishly against your sloppy cunt. 

Messy. Drooling.

Making such an utter mess on his tongue when he lets it loll out, swiping up the gushing creamy dredges with a long lick. It was so filthy, dribbling down the sides of his mouth, onto his pinkish tongue-

Just a tease for more. 

“Because I keep my promises, my wife.” his murmur wraps all around your thrumming clit. Tongue swirling a milky gloss all over his pert, raw lips. Only wanting more. Waiting. “In life and in death.”

A/N. THIS- THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE N’ GOT ME IN MY FEELSSSS. Hope y’all have a lovely lovely week <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

[danfelog]

Requests

¡Hola! Bienvenidos a mi mundo de fantasía, aquí cualquier pensamiento o idea que tengan pueden compartirmelo, así yo haré una pequeña historia de una página para ustedes a su gusto. Aquí pueden dejarme sus comentarios e ideas.

¡Gracias!

[asvterias]

𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝟣: 𝖬𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖲𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗌

Series Masterlist || The Cast || Next Chapter

chapter warnings: mentions of being homesick, getting attacked with a baseball, minor cursing, and minor injuries

chapter pairings: lynn loud x black!fem!reader, bailey!family x bailey!reader, friend!natalie x friend!reader

tag list: @sheluvv-jen

word count: 2.0k+

author’s note: the first chapter is done, how are we looking so far guys??? pls don’t be silent, i crave feedback!! i just realized that this is probably one of the fastest times i’ve ever written.

also, send me a private message, an ask, or leave a comment if you want to be apart of the taglist!

Growing up with a therapist for a mother, you were taught to genuinely express your emotions daily, so naturally it came in handy for your personal use in the future. You spoke strongly against moving from Chicago to restart your life elsewhere in a small town called Royal Woods. But, your parents were so adamant about moving that even your poor attempts were deemed useless.

You weren’t alone in this dispute, your siblings agreed with you, not wanting to leave their life behind. Sadly, your house was already resold so there was no turning back.

In Chicago, you were highly known, well mostly based on your family’s background, but nonetheless, you had a few real friends there. A week before officially leaving your childhood home behind, your friends hosted a goodbye party in honor of you. You appreciated the party planned by your friends and enjoyed the celebration to the fullest.

However, when it was time to leave, you couldn’t find yourself to do so. Maybe it was all of your lingering memories which danced around your mind that trapped you in there. You remained in your bedroom longer than intended, soaking in the lack of joy that your bedroom once vibrantly held.

Your room was completely empty, and all of your belongings were stored away in their respective boxes, probably already shipped to the cargo.

“[Name], stop daydreaming, and come on, we have to leave in 10 minutes!” Your older sister Cass shouted.

Inhaling sharply, you begrudgingly pulled yourself off the bed and left the room, not once looking back.

The plane ride was 3 hours long turning it out to be a complete drag. You slept throughout the whole plane ride and were rudely awakened by your sister, Maddy when you landed.

Despite being jet-lagged, you still made your way to the car and snuggled yourself in a seat. The car ride was smooth for the time being, everyone found themselves occupied with little mundane activities.

Of course, your mom was the first to cut through the silence, often being optimistic. “Come on, girls! It’s great to start anew.”

Your mom tried to make the moving a good thing but was desperately failing at so. Perhaps she should stop trying so hard and accept the negativity for a change.

“Oh yeah, mom. I don’t think us starting anew is doing any of us any good.” Madison intercepts rolling her eyes. “Just take a look at Queen Righteous over there.” She irks her head towards your other sister who was blatantly checking herself out in her hand-size mirror.

“That reminds me, how long are we staying in this town?” Cassandra emphasizes as she starts to file her well-manicured nails.

There was a beat of silence followed along which made her look at mom with a piercing glint in her dark brown eyes. Who was gonna tell her?

“Oh didn’t you hear, dear sister? We’re here for a couple of years so possibly by the time I graduate high school.” Your tone was laced with pettiness, taking in the glory of watching Cassandra’s face fall.

She blinks in astonishment. “She’s kidding, please tell me that [name]’s kidding, mom!!”

“It’s not that bad, you’re overreacting.” Your mom reassures her eldest daughter. “Think of it as a vacation.”

“Yeah, a long-term vacation…” Your dad chirps in the conversation.

You lightly scoff at your parents’ logical explanation, clearly not swooned by it, and put back on your headphones, purposefully ignoring them.

“Overreacting is not the word that I would use.” Madison murmurs with a small smirk. Cassandra closes her eyes, leaning her head against the headrest, clearly irritated at the turn of events.

With a defeated sigh, your mom turned around, giving up on trying to lighten her daughters’ mood.

“You should’ve kept quiet.” Your dad chastises.

Amari scoffs. “Oh shut up, Ben.”

Being tuned out of the world by your songs, you stared out of the car window, observing the town sights. You were impressed so this town better bring the best.

By the time, you reached your new house, it was already nightfall so being introduced to your neighbors was out of bounds anymore. Getting settled into your new home was a hassle, but surprisingly your family managed to make it work.

For dinner, your dad had ordered two pizzas which everyone devoured within seconds. Guess the car ride wasn’t provided with a sufficient amount of snacks to fulfill the hunger.

The remaining of the night consisted of everyone rummaging through their name-based boxes and unpacking basic necessities. For you and Madison, it was partially school related as well. After a rough hour and a half, your parents called it a night and sent everyone off to bed.

The following morning flew by in a breeze. After completing your morning routine, getting dressed, and eating breakfast, it was already 7:45.

To be honest, the journey to school wasn’t as boring as you expected. Once you reached on school grounds, you were introduced by the principal to another high schooler who would be showing you around the school.

Approximately 5’3 and having sensible fashion taste, you were met with your tour guide. She was showing off a beautiful shade of fair caramel with medium-length straight black hair to complement her slender body. She wore a colorful polka dot short-sleeved shirt with denim jeans and black converse shoes.

“Hi, I’m Gabriella and I’m your school tour guide.” She warmly greets you with a wave of her hand alongside a vibrant smile.

“Hey, I’m [name].” You introduce yourself with a small smile before pointing to your sister, “And this is my sister, Madison.”

Your sister gives a small nod of her head in acknowledgment at Gabriella. The perky girl ushers both of you into the school gates. Gabriella gives you and Madison a tour of the school, sometimes adding necessary details about specific teachers that will get you in their good books.

She was kind enough to briefly answer your inquiries regarding the school.

Throughout the tour, Gabriella made certain attempts into becoming your first friend in the school, and you accepted it with a smile. You decided to exchange each other’s numbers on your phones to keep the great bond over messages as well. You had thought that it would take you multiple weeks to gain a friend, but you had underestimated yourself.

Lunch rolled around just in time for the school tour to finish and Maddy had ditched you a long time for new friends.

“Okay, I’ll go get our lunch and you go find us a bench,” Gabriella suggests with a wide grin. The ravenette disappears and left you on your own before you had a chance to speak.

You sigh heavily as you surveyed the surroundings of the lunch areas, clutching onto the handful of books. It was a huge campus, there were many spacious areas to hang out by. Being too invested in finding a certain spot, you failed to notice that you were near batting grounds.

All of a sudden a ball comes flying at you, leaving no time to react and move out of the way. Surprisingly, the ball was directed at your wrist instead of your face.

You’d figure that in a sense that was a better approach. Rather get hit in the wrist than the face. Great thinking!

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!!” You exclaimed, flinching at the impact. Tending to your injured wrist as the ball and your books hit the ground with a thud.

The echos of running feet weren’t fully comprehensive until you looked up and noticed a brunette girl. She was pretty if you were to say so. The girl wore a red baseball cap with her hair styled up in a ponytail and matching colors in her baseball outfit.

“Woah, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen.” The brunette girl apologizes before her eyebrows furrow in confusion. She removes her baseball cap revealing her face before mildly pointing to you, “I’ve never seen you around school before, are you one of the new girls?”

“No, it’s fine….and yes I’m the new girl,” you replied.

She greets you with a rough nod of her head. “Ok cool, my name is Lynn. Lynn Loud, what’s yours?” Her voice was raspy but oddly welcoming.

“[Name]…Bailey.”

“Come on, I’ll take you to the nurse’s office.” she offers, picking up your fallen books.

You dismiss the brunette girl with a shake of your head and hastily retrieved your books back from out of her hands, unwilling to rely on codependency. Although your response was unintentionally rude, Lynn brushed it off and kept the conversation going.

“It’s the least I can do.” She attempted, wanting to provoke a verbal reply from you. This time, she looked right into your eyes wanting to observe more closer and intimately.

“Y’know for someone who’s injured, you sure don’t like accepting help whenever you receive it.”

Resisting the urge to end this conversation with a snarky comment, you found yourself eventually staring right back into her eyes, and for some reason, you felt flushed under her gaze. You awkwardly shifted on your feet as you attempted to maintain eye contact, seemingly ignoring the fluttering heat in your stomach. Her gaze was so intimidating yet mysterious, and you were curious to discover the meaning behind it. It was unusual for you to get easily flustered, especially to a girl who you just met mere minutes ago.

Luckily, Lynn was the first to break eye contact but her eyes wandered carefully analyzing your facial features. Taking you by surprise, she gently held on to your broken wrist, her attention diverted.

The brunette girl sits you down towards the nearest bench accompanied by a cool shade.

“How bad does it hurt?” her fingers trail around your right wrist, thoroughly searching for the stimuli. “Do you feel any swelling or bruising?” Knowing that Lynn was persistent on getting you some kind of medical attention…you kinda admired her for that trait.

“Didn’t take you for a doctor, baseball girl.”

She chuckles, “Neither did I.” staring back at you, a smile still adorning her face, “But if a cute girl coincidentally gets accidentally injured, I’m obliged to check on her and see if she’s alright.”

Unknowingly, a grin was plastered on your face to which Lynn reciprocated back. She had an endearing charm to her smile and her dimples were just an—

“Ow!” you exclaimed in pain, which brought you out of your train of thought. Despite not pulling away from instinct, you allowed Lynn to cradle your area of discomfort without making such a huge fuss.

“I think that I found it!” She cheered, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm while still being cautious about your well-being. Oh, you would have found her excitement so sweet but the current throbbing pain disagreed, desperately needing to seek professional help.

“Fine…but maintain a distance, don’t want anymore more unnecessary injuries.” She finally lets go of your wrist and puts your books in your bag before zipping it close.

Her confused expression made a smile slightly from upon your lips but your pointed playful gaze gave you away. It was adorable watching how it finally clicked in her mind and she sends you a sincere smile, her dimples poking through her cheeks.

“I’ll try my best.” She jokes, nudging you with her shoulder, content with your playful banter. Lynn slings your bag over her shoulder and helps you off the bench as you both head toward the nurse’s office.

Perhaps it could be the start of a second amazing friendship today.

© asvterias, 2023. please do not plagiarize any of my works.