#and his play improves for it!! SURPRISE!!

[writingwisterias]

All of me for All of you

DI!Leon Kennedy x AFAB! Fem! Reader Warnings: SMUT, MNDI, Fluff, Friends - Lovers, Insecurities, Oral (F- receiving), Praise Kink, Slight Breeding kink ;), Unprotected sex, Summary: He was always the best at surprising you Words: 2.8k Happy valentines day! I know I said it would be a drabble but I'm starting to think I don't actually know what the word is. Stay safe tonight if you do have plans! and hope you all have fun ;))

It was probably better for you that he cancelled instead of waiting in the restaurant for the dickhead to show up with some cheap chocolates and dying flowers in exchange for sex. Dating was hard enough these days, with all of the apps being used for a quick fuck instead of a meaningful connection. Did that not matter to anyone anymore? The idea of a relationship with someone who felt like your best friend seemed like a distant dream at this point. 

Instead, tonight you were sitting in your apartment with a glass of wine and some expensive chocolate you treated yourself to. It just always felt so sad spending the one holiday that is meant for people to declare their love to each other like this. To make matters worse you were the only one alone today, you couldn’t even have a galentines day since their dates didn’t decide to cancel. The only person you knew that was free was Leon. A recent edition in your life after joining his workplace. Your relationship progressed quickly into best friend status as your skills worked well together, trusting each other almost immediately. Humor even more so. 

The ideal couple if the office had anything to do with it. You wouldn’t be yourself by ignoring the blossoming crush you had on him. After all he was the office heart throb there were many others that felt the same. Yet, with his lack of text today you assumed he was slumped in some bar or busy on a mission. Too busy to deal with you stewing in your self worth. 

The rom-com playing in the background did nothing to improve your mood, only adding to the sense of loneliness that suffocated your brain. You hadn’t realised how sad it felt being alone when there were so many people booking up the restaurant spaces. To make a bad evening worse you couldn’t even get a takeaway dinner because of all ‘Love day’ deals. 

Leon however had remembered the brief comment you made yesterday about the date cancellation. The backpack he was wearing was full of dinner supplies, wanting to make sure that at least you had something to make you feel better. Did he have a date because you had one? Yes. Did he cancel it because yours was cancelled? Also yes. 

Perhaps this is just the life of someone smitten. It took him a while to even gather the courage to ask you on a date, spending days calculating every moment of it so he could finally admit how he felt only for you to crush it by showing a picture of sir dickhead. His plans ruined and replaced with some woman he found that same night at least then he wouldn’t be alone he thought. Hopefully you’ll settle for some homemade pizzas as the poor guy couldn’t even get the shop bought ones in the frozen section. 

The knock at your door surprised you more than anything, scrambling the mountain of blankets you had on the sofa for your phone in case you missed a text. He could hear your feet thudding to the door. Leon stood in the doorway, rocking on his feet as you turned each lock but the nerves settled quickly when he caught a look at your adorable face. You were wrapped in a blanket, hair down and messy, the house highlighted by the soft glow of the fairy light he helped hang up a few weeks ago. It felt like you, a ball of warmth. 

“Happy valentines day?” He chuckled holding out the squashed flowers from where they were crushed in his backpack along with a squashed box of chocolates. He grinned as the confusion on your face was slowly wiped into a happy expression. The corners of your mouth twinging upwards slightly until it finally broke into a fill on grin. “Leon, what are you doing here? I thought you had a date or something?” You questioned, stepping aside anyway to allow him to enter. He placed the flowers and chocolate on the table, his jacket finding the spot you reserved for it on the hanger by the door. “It..uh…got cancelled? Anyway, no point in us being lonely” He spoke. 

The backpack landed on the table with a thud before he started to unpack it. Various pizza toppings, bags of many types of cheeses. “What is all this?” You asked, picking up a few items trying to correlate his plan. “Well I tried to pick up some pizzas but there wasn’t any. It might be fun to try and make our own, I thought” 

You could have melted in a puddle right there and then you swore as you turned to look at him. The smile he wore was genuine for a change not the forced one he often used around the office or when the team went out for drinks. He really wanted to be here with you tonight, even going as far as to conjure up a last minute plan. So with a large grin you turned to face him, rolling up the sleeves of your pjs “Guess we better get cooking I’m starving” 

Music slowly filled the kitchen, flour covering every surface as well as each other as you both shaped your pizza bases. “We should do hearts, to keep in theme” You suggested as you started to create the arches perfectly. Leon nodded, giving an attempt himself laughing at the mess. “At least we will tell each others apart,” He joked. Whilst he lacked the artist approach that yours did it was still endearing anyway, it gave it character. “I can see the attempt” You giggled, resting your chin on his shoulder as you looked at it. Leon’s breath faltered – he hadn’t expected the night to turn so domestic, to feel like a relationship with you was something he always missed. It fuels the determination inside him to correct it to ensure that no matter what he succeeds.

“Yeah well yours was always going to be perfect, everything you do is” He spoke, catching your eye briefly before turning to look at the pizza creation he was working on. It was a prime opportunity to wrap your arms around him, hold him close and just feel his warmth seep into your bones. You didn’t though; instead you reluctantly peeled away moving towards the oven to begin cooking them. It felt like time had slowed as you both waited, sitting on the counters opposite each other whilst the pizzas baked in between you too. “So how come your date cancelled on you then?” You asked him, legs thumping on the cabinets as you swung them. 

Leon shrugged he wasn’t sure if was ready yet to admit the truth, the real reason why he was here. He was currently enjoying the atmosphere. He spent time with you often breaking his rule of allowing people close, letting them worm their way into his closed off world in case they got hurt. You didn't even need to try. You just did it, made him crumble and falter; gave him an adrenaline rush of something that wasn’t fighting death. “Rather be here instead anyway” He stated. You believed him, the look in his eye told you he was content. Happy even. The beeper on the oven interrupted your own admittance, cutting the tension you had both created before it was too late. You didn’t want to ruin this. 

“How come I have the shit blanket?” He grumbled as you both curled on the sofa, the pizzas cut and ready on plates in your lap. He was letting you choose the movie today, after all he chose the last one a few weeks ago. “Because this one is my favorite” You stated eyes glued onto the screen. You were both a respectful distance away, curled up in either corner of the sofa, your legs touching slightly as you sprawled out at a diagonal. You had managed to find a cheap candle, lighting them around the tv which added to the warmth of the room. It was the perfect night in. “I like that one as well though” He whined. You knew he did, he stole it every time you got up to the bathroom, used it when he slept on your couch. It smelt like him every time he left; that's why it was your favourite. 

“Cry about it. I could have not given you one” 

It was true he supposed, he could have been left to the cold. His body moved before he thought logically about it, sliding across the couch holding his pizza carefully. Worming his way next to you under the blanket. You stiffened as he moved the pillows around to create a fake arm rest, kicking his legs out on the coffee table in front of him. He was so close, you could feel his arm brushing against yours as he moved them to bring the food to his mouth. Brushing his hand against your thigh as he rubbed the crumbs off his finger tips. 

“This pizza’s great, what a great idea. I wonder who came up with” He joked but when he turned to look at you his breath caught in his throat. You gazed at him with a soft smile, your eyes twinkling in the fairy lights. Your hand landed on his, holding it gently. “How do you want your credits?” You whispered, heart pounding as you leaned closer. Leon could feel your breath against his cheek, feel the weight of you as you leaned in closer to him. His eyes scanned you, looking for any sign that he was reading the situation wrong only to find that yours were doing the same. Waiting for the rejection from him, for him to push you away and leave you alone again. 

Leon didn’t dare, not when your lips tasted this sweet once he finally closed the gap. Your skin soft underneath his palms as he held your face and brought you close. The empty plates clattered to the floor, the sound muted as the blanket fell with them. Leon dominated you, pushing you back against the couch. “Are you sure about this?” He asked nervously, his body caged you in. His aftershave intoxicating you as you nipped at the skin of his neck. “I’m sure” You whispered against the stubble that covered his jaw. Slowly making a trail back to his lips. “I don’t want this to be a one time thing because we are lonely” 

“Good. Me neither” 

With a smirk his fingers began to slide up your pj top, helping you remove it quickly. “No bra?” He teased as he pulled one of the hardening buds in his mouth. Sucking at the flesh loudly, his tongue circling the bud with an infinity symbol flicking as he moved over it. You couldn’t even respond to him if you tried, your heart thumping as he kissed along the valley of your breasts. His fingers replacing his lips on the breast he left behind. Your fingers tugged at the strands of his hair, pulling him closer to your chest like you were trying to suffocate him with the sweet smell of lavender that lingers on you. 

You felt him smirk his teeth grazing the bud, small nibbles around the area that was soon to leave marks. He wasn’t even doing anything but devouring your breasts and it got you all hot and bothered. Your breathless moans were your only form of communication; words failing you as he continued to move south. His grip was gently – barely there as he moved his hands down to your thighs. Leon’s fingers dug into the soft flesh prying your legs apart. Your grey shorts are already displaying your eagerness to him. “Never pictured you to become this horny” He teases, his tongue moving up the insides of your thigh marking the journey he made. You felt him suck against the fabric, moaning deeply as the muted taste of you hit his tongue. 

His fingers returned their teasing touch, hovering above the waistband of the shorts. Leon however paused, glancing back up to you waiting silently for a final form of approval before doing anything. Your fingers stroked the soft strands of his hair as you smiled down at him and nodded. The shorts were removed fairly quickly and discarded somewhere in the room. “Cute” He chuckled upon seeing your underwear. You had totally forgotten about the heart shaped ones you wore this morning after not expecting company. “I…I wasn’t planning on this” You chuckled nervously. Your cheeks are heating up as embarrassment flooded through your system. You knew he didn’t care, not when his lust blown eyes watched the unveil of your underwear as he exposed your pussy. 

He watched the poor thing clench around nothing, the cold air making it twitch and spasm as you silently begged for attention. Who was he to deny you? This is what he wanted after all. To finally prove his affection and how much you mean to him, how much effect you had on his life since entering it. His kisses were firm, your arousal was just as sweet as your personality. Now sweetening up his bitter outlook on life. Fuck it was addictive, to ellicite each whine and whimper as he devoured your taste. His cock throbbed in his jeans. It was almost painful.

You didn’t miss the subtle shift in his hips as he ground them into the couch trying to give himself any form of pleasure he could. “Leon- please..more” You whimpered, tugging at the soft strands of his hair to get him to face you. His mouth curved into a grin upon hearing your request. Your slick coating his lips like lip gloss as he finally lifted his head to face you. “Anything for you” He grinned. The warmth seemed to follow him as he stood up, his presence immediately missed as began to remove his jeans and boxers in one fluid motion. 

His cock was pretty, the tip flushed red – cum beading in greeting of your greedy eyes. The shaft decorated in veins you knew would feel perfect as he moved himself through your folds. He knew he should fiddle through his pockets for that shiny wrapper, keep each other protected but at this moment he didn’t seem to care. Not when you were looking at him like that. Your legs spread even wider, pulling them back towards your chest as he returned to his spot. The couch had barely enough room for this type of motion, the coffee table limiting his leg room meaning it was an awkward angle. It didn’t matter in hindsight, not as he sunk himself in your welcoming warmth.

For the first time in years his mind was empty, no thoughts except for the pleasure that coursed through his cock, all of his blood rushing south. Fuck you were devine, he wouldn’t regret what he did to get to this moment. That poor woman who thought she was going to get lucky is now sobbing at home alone. He didn’t care not when you felt this fucking good. Tasted this fucking good. 

“I’m never letting you go” 

His obsession with you was rising, jealousy making him sick with thoughts of the competition he didn’t even have. Leon poured everything he could in the movement of his hips, hoping you’ll never forget the way his cock curved slightly as he entered. The tip brushed against your cervix as he pushed you further into the couch. Your nails grounded him, dug into his shoulder blades as you lost yourself to the feel of his cock. “I don’t want you to” 

The words were breathless, teased against the nape of his neck as you spoke them. His eyes met yours, he didn’t have to explain anything. Not with the history of his love circling around them. You had both been through too much, the job you shared demanding so much of everything. You both needed this. Something to return to – to remind you both you were still human. 

Your orgasm builds up quickly with his rhythmic thrusts hitting every spot you need him to. Your back arched with a gasp as it finally shattered through you, Leon smiled at the sight of you, his hips moved against yours at a bruising pace. It was a dangerous line to push himself this close without pulling out, the claim he could have by finishing inside you. Prevent you from finding anyone else, get anyone else from looking at you. He craved you for so long and it was gone too soon. “Where?” He grunted, burying his head in the crevice of your neck. “Inside” you whispered. 

He smiled against your skin, biting down as he finally let himself go. Your nails dragged along his skin as you felt his warmth flood through you. The two of you laid there, basking in the aftermath of your affection. Breaths mingling as you stared at each other with giddy smiles. “Happy valentines day” He whispered before bringing your lips in a sweet kiss. “Thank you, Leon” 

[dock57]

Would you say that Shrike genuinely cares about Beebs?

For me, I find it interesting due to how he acts and I do think he does! He just struggles HARD with keeping that up in terms of promises. Behaviour etc etc

[Yes, I would say so.

I knew this response might be a tad long, so that’s why it took me a good minute to get to it.

Episode 1 and 2, you don’t really see any examples of how Shrike shows he does care for Beebs, we start to see more examples in episode 3 and 4. This is all based on my own analyzing from the series itself.

I would say that Shrike is on a path of learning and improving to be a batter person, especially learning how to care about others than just himself. I would say that Shrike shows how he cares through his actions rather than words. Shrike is just. Not good with words. At all. Like you said, I think he does but struggles showing it or saying it through words.

Some examples I can think of that I think show Shrike attempting to show he does care:

Episode 3: Us & Them

The Guitar. This particular scene may not be the best example, the next one is- but I say this one counts as well. It was a high stress situation for everyone, but the fact that Shrike was willing to try and play the acoustic guitar for Beebs for- an exact reason he didn’t understand, I think shows an act that he does care about what Beebs’ decisions/actions are when they are doing a job. He could have easily just call Beebs a nut job, but he trusted Beebs and try to perform the cords for Beebs to communicate with Us.

Especially since later on we get this scene-

I really need to just spend some posts gushing over these two and their interactions. This scene is a favorite of mine. I love how after the incident, Shrike did try to practice his acoustic guitar. This shows to me that Shrike does care for others and their interests. I do wonder how Shrike even got the guitar in the first place? Was it gifted by Beebs to him because Shrike was interested in learning? I feel like Shrike had to take some form of interest to learn it for Beebs to give him one to learn for himself. I love that he was trying to remember the cords by himself, maybe to show Beebs later- which knowing Shrike, to probably show “off” that he can do it. I think Shrike uses his ego as a form of protection for himself, rather than to be an egomaniac- a way to protect the fact that Shrike is well, a loser. I like how he took his show to his room after the incident to give Beebs some space, some time to relax, I like that he did bring up the guitar to him to show that he is interested in others’ interests but doesn’t know how to really express it, which is perhaps why he did hide it before Beebs enter his room.

Its show signs of caring, an effort of learning to care. Someone who wants to try but is too used to not having others care about him. I think that’s the difference here, is that Shrike is not used to having someone care about him, but Beebs does, which is why he is trying to make an effort.

We do not really know the whole story as to how Shrike and Beebs ended up working together, and that is a story I am very much looking forward to. Episode 4, Plague Walkers gives us more examples how Shrike cares.

This is something I noticed from episode 4, and let me just say, this is a theory of mine. If you remember back in episode 2, Shrike mentions how Beebs was too stingy to get an internal universe translator model.

If you noticed in the photos before, Shrike is seen walking out of the a place called “ETEK- Home of Babel Translators. I’m not the only one who thinks of this, but it could be possible that Shrike may have bought one for Beebs as a surprise gift. Why? Well it was never suggested or mentioned that Shrike needed a new one- the only time the translator is mentioned is Beebs in episode 2. So fans, including myself, have been thinking that Shrike may have bought one for Beebs here. Another clue to know it’s translators is the board to the side of the entrance of the store- there you can see different styles of translators, including one similar to Beebs. This is a possible another reason that support my suggestion that Shrike does care, but is showing it through other ways rather than just verbal.

Of course, the one scene that really helps suggest that Shrike cares for Beebs is well, the scene when he’s at the bar with Ricket. Shrike might be drunk, but sometimes that’s when individuals become more honest about how they feel.

I guess on Mobile it only lets me do 10 images rather than 30- so I could only send this part. Ricket tries to comfort Shrike in saying that Beebs seems like an understandable guy (or Beard since Ricket only ever read his shirt). Despite the fact that Ricket stereotyped Beeb’s kind to be “a lot,” Shrike was very quick to defend Beebs. As Shrike said “Beebs is the BEST- I’m the A LOT.” Shrike was so quick to protect him, even if Beeb’s kind is known to be aggressive, that’s not how Shrike sees him. I think Shrike does care not only for Beebs but what Beebs say as well.

Even though right before this, Shrike mentioned he wanted to show to Beebs that he is “right.” However, Shrike takes a moment to remember the pinkie promise he made. He says in Spanish that he has to be good. I think Shrike wants to show Beebs that he can be useful, not so much as I said before, as an act of ego, but to show to Beebs he can be more. He wants to be better for Beebs, he wants to helpful, he wants to be a better person but doesn’t make the best decisions to create that path. Its like a child who wants to so desperately show their parent that they can be helpful for them as well and not be a burden to them.

This scene. This scene gets me so much- I need to go over how well this scene was written and done. You can just tell by Shrike’s reaction how he feels- the way he grabs his shoulder, he knows that he has really pushed Beebs far and how disappointed he is in him. Like a mother getting mad at their own child… Shrike is holding that against him, he is holding the guilt, the regret, the frustration that he has caused. Shrike does care about Beebs, and especially about how Beebs feels. Even in this scene Beebs says that he does try to help, because Shrike is trying to help, but doesn’t know how to make the right choices to do so. He’s still learning how to choose which decision is not just based on what best for Shrike, but can be best for Beebs too. He wanted to help, he chose a bad way to do so, like gambling, cause Shrike likes to take the easy or quickest route- anything to make quick money too, he doesn’t understand that you have to work to earn. He wanted to let Beebs have a break, but he chose an option that’s all luck base.

I think episode 4 so far has been the one to show us the best examples of how Shrike cares and how he is still developing it. That last scene, those expressions. Man I know what it feels like to disappoint someone you do care about. That body language is the exact language I use when I know I done the same. You feel awful for hurting someone you care for, and I think Shrike is just starting to realize that himself too.

Then again- what do I know? I spend too much time analyzing Monkey Wrench… I just love this show too much.]

[thisonehere]

Please make a second part of the fic "Sleeping Beauty" I want to please my boy Smoke 👀

Finish Him

A/n: Me too, I need him in ways that haven't been scientifically discovered yet.

Tags: Request, Mk1 fanfic, Mk smut, NSFW

C/w: Blue Balls, more teasing, sexually frustrated, masturbation, oral sex (blow job), mention of bodily fluids

Last part

The rest of the day wasn't a good one for Tomas, not at all. Not after you left him to deal with that beast.

He started the morning late. Many thoughts that he just slept in late, but in actually trying his best to pleasure himself. There he was at the side of the bed stroking and rubbing himself as best he could. The room echoed with his moaning and whimpering as he chased the high of a climax.

After nearly an hour of agonizing work, he managed to reach it...but it just wasn't the same.

With a defeated sigh, he cleaned himself up and got ready to meet Honzo at the Dojo. The young man had been waiting there for a while, he had arrived an hour early to the great hall in hopes of practicing his technique before training with Tomas.

By the time Tomas arrived the boy was busy practicing his backside kick. Honzo stopped as he turned to face his mentor as he entered. "Apologies about my lateness. I was...I was busy and fell behind." He cleared his throat. "Let us begin."

---

"Correct your stance." Tomas nearly barked, Honzo had attempted a crescent kick against the punching dummy. He could deny that his poor stance caused him to balance, but it was getting harder to train with the way Tomas looked him. A harsh scowl on his face, as if he was upset about something.

"Again, harder!" These were the words Tomas would usually say to Honzo during Training, but he couldn't help but notice...venom in his words. Tomas seemed more irate than usual, not as bad as Bi-Han, he was still fairly kind to Honzo. But he seemed annoyed by something, it's like he literally woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. He wondered what could've happened this morning to agitate him so.

"That was perfect, Honzo, you've improved greatly." Tomas said after 3 hours of training. He gave Honzo a warm smile as he wiped the sweat from his brow. He seemed to have calmed down now, perhaps the training blew off some steam, calming him down a great deal. "Take a break," he huffed. "We'll meet again in 2."

He walked over to the bench to take a swing of water, until he catches something at the corner of his eye. He sees a very familiar figure pass the doorway to the training ground. You. Immediately follows after you, not giving Honzo a single look, not taking a single sip of water.

"Y/n!" He calls to you as he quickly trails behind you. A tinge of desperation can be sensed in his voice. You stop and turn to face him. Your smile is innocent, your eyes are demure, this morning didn't happen. "Um, hey." He shifts his pose, trying to look more chill and nonchalant as if he wasn't basically chasing after you a few moments ago. "Hey." You smile back at him. "So...what are you up to?"

"I'm heading to the storage room, Kuai needs a shin guards and hand wraps for a new initiate." Tomas's eyes perked up at the sound of this, as if he had an idea. "What a coincidence, I'm on my way there too." Your arch you brow in surprise, "Really?" You could've sworn you just saw him training Honzo. "Really." he assured you. With a sigh, you flash Tomas knowing smile and lead him to the storage room.

The storage room was the largest room in the entire complex. It was filled to the brim with supplies and uniforms for new recruits, it also worked as a place to hold weapons until they found an armory to put it all in. Boxes lined to 6 feet towers in rows creating entire walls. You quickly get to work finding the shin guards and wraps. Meanwhile Tomas awkwardly leans against doorframe, trying to be sexy. "Um, so, Y/n about this morning."

Your ears immediately purk up at this, you know where this is heading. Yet you play dumb. "Oh, yeah. You were telling me about how you had to train Honzo. How's that going?"

"Wonderful!" Tomas quickly jumps off the doorframe excitedly. "He's improved so much! Just a few more months and he'll be a full fledged Shirai Ryu. Actually, he'll even be the youngest-" he suddenly remembers what he was trying to do, clears his throat, and gets back to leaning against the doorframe, hoping to be sexy. "Fine. He's doing fine." He series to make his voice deeper, softer. "But I was talking about the other thing."

"Oh, is that so?" You finally find the Shin guard and wraps. You also get softer, turn to him, a sultry look finds its way onto your face. This took Tomas by surprise that he once again drops his attempts at trying to be sexy and just stand there awkwardly as you slowly advance up to him, your hips swaying here and there.

"Y-Yes, I couldn't stop thinking about it." He felt his heart skip a beat as you lay a hand to his chest. "I see. You want me to finish?" He frantically nods, his face becomes red with blush. "Yes, I would."

Your hands go from his chest, trails down his torso, and it begins to undo his pants. Tomas began to breathe more heavily as he watched.

His pants drop to the floor, and his eager member recoils upward, bouncing up and down excited at being free. You admire it for a moment, it's more than 8.5 inches long and 3.6 inches in width. You nearly lost your composure at the sight of it, he looks bigger and harder than he's ever been. His top is dripping with pre-cum. Maybe your teasing was more effective than you thought.

"I'm guessing you want me to give it a kiss?" You slowly get on your knees, licking your lips to moisten them. Tomas frankly nods, "Yes! Yes, please!" He begs, he's so desperate, it's kinda cute. "Alright." You grab his pen, both hands are required to grip. You wait and stare at it for a second, you have torture him for a little longer.

Finally, you plant a tender kiss at the tip. You even lick, the sweat from training mixed with cum gives it a nice and salty taste. Tomas's head falls back as he moans as relief is felt all over his body.

You then quickly get back up to your feet. "I better go, I have to get this to Kuai." Tomas eyes stretch open as he becomes horrified. "W-What!?! No, you can't, you have to-"

"I said I'd give it a kiss. I even went a step further with that licked." You say as you race out the door. "Y/n, please. Do you want me to beg? I'll beg! Please, just come back."

He looks down at the new problem you left him with. "Please come back." He whines to himself. Looks like he's going to be in the Storage room longer than he thought.

A/n: Aren't I just a tease? *Laughs maniacally*

Anyway, do y'all think I should do a part 3 where Y/n actually does it?

[always1star]

valentines day with jjk men

Gojo who goes all out: taking the day off, spending thousands of dollars, making sure the day is absolutely perfect for his darling. He takes Valentine’s day very seriously. He wakes you up with your favorite breakfast in bed, one that he spent way too long making in the very early hours in the morning. He finishes off breakfast by gifting you a considerably large bouquet of red roses and a teddy bear the size of an actual bear. He beckons you to eat and get ready so you two can spend the rest of your day together. You go shopping (and come home with armfuls of designer shopping bags), go to a restaurant (that costs basically your entire paycheck for the appetizer alone), and drive around the city in one of his all-too-nice cars. You both fall asleep the second you come home, exhausted from all the love shared throughout the day. 

Geto who likes to treat Valentine’s day as if it were any other date. Don’t get me wrong though, because every date with him is special and unforgettable. He picks you up from your workplace with an assortment of purple, pink, white, and red flowers. He plants a kiss on your lips as you get into his car, and the two of you head to the restaurant that you seem to always come back to. Dinner is eaten, conversations are spoken, and the two of you head back home to watch a movie. Whether it be The Notebook or The Conjuring, movies are always enjoyable with him. The two of you bundle up under one blanket on the couch and share a couple snacks, very much enjoying your Valentine’s this year.

Nanami who prefers to do Valentine’s at home. Although going out and spoiling you is nice too, he would much rather stay at home with you. A mundane day is his favorite, considering his incredibly demanding life. So, for Valentine’s day, he skips out on whatever overtime he may be forced into, and comes home to you with some white tulips. You two make and have a candlelit dinner, bake a cake, watch a shitty romcom, have a warm bath while talking about your days, and sleep entangled with each other. It’s nothing special, but it’s something the both of you couldn’t keep yourselves from looking forward to. 

Toji who truly is trying his best. It almost makes you hysterical, seeing him be so stupified by a holiday for love, but you know he just wants to try for you. He comes home with totally irrelevant gifts: lilies (which is normal), a whisk, red towels, and play-doh. You’re dying laughing, clenching onto your core and holding onto the counter for support as you fall over from laughing. He’s just utterly mortified. So, in an attempt to make it up, Toji invites you out to dinner. Toji loves to see you all dressed up, so this is great for him too. He treats you to dinner, but the wait for a table during Valentine’s is absurdly long at every restaurant. Toji ends up taking you to get some random ramen place he knows, and after treating you to ice cream. The two of you come home and fall asleep. Some people may not have considered your day favorable, but you think it’s absolutely perfect and wouldn’t trade it for anything else. 

Sukuna who doesnt give a single flying fuck about Valentine’s day. But, he is willing to give it a chance this time around, just for you. He grumbles as he walks through the store staring at all the people deciding what to buy for their loved ones. He eventually picked up a box of chocolates, a bouquet of pink carnations, and a white stuffed bear because those just happened to be the things that were popular amongst other shoppers. He looks online for date ideas, and figures tickets to a museum wouldn’t be so bad. He surprises you with the gifts when you come home, and you are so excited. He thinks that maybe this whole “Valentine’s” ordeal isn’t so bad after all. He’s trying, and maybe soon he will see improvement, and that’s wonderful to you. 

lowkey a filler post bc my real valentines special is not done... enjoy this instead. happy valentines, everyone!

[ace-and-ranty]

But reading all the chapters all at once really shows Rei's progression from

"Oh no, now that I am happy, using shogi as a coping mechanism actually really sucks and it's making it hard to play. What if being happy makes me a crappy shogi player?"

to

"Actually, now that I feel emotionally secure I don't need to hyperfixate on shogi to the detriment of everything else, so how about I... try not doing that?"

to

"Holy crap, it is actually much easier to concentrate on shogi when I'm not doing it to avoid my feelings of isolation"

to

"This is actually fun?? I'm having a lot of fun playing crazy shogi with my best friend Nikaidou :)"

[fisheito]

yakuya in MY swamp? in MY ecosystem? no . i am still in disbelief. i hope you all know that my particles are bouncing off the everything. i am using periods as punctuation but the state of my mind is naught neareth final.

[kindahoping4forever]

And everyone gasped

(no one was surprised, not even a little)

[psychopomp-namine]

you know how rhodonite attracts students who want to play as jeannes and onyx attracts students who play as jacks? well what if quartz gains a reputation for jack jeannes. like sure, technically, only kisa has officially had the role, but practically, we also have fumi and sou and neji who switch their roles to whatever suits the script. even suzu has shown interest in playing jeanne roles despite always playing jacks, he just needs someone to guide him. kai basically reflects whoever his partner is, and mitsuki always plays jeannes but I'm sure he can also do jacks (maybe like a cold or elegant prince type). quartz didn't ever plan on it, they just accidentally created their own niche

[party-pixie]

yo, owner of daily demon spotlight here, what'd you think of smt v? i wanna have tempered expectations for when vengeance comes out, so i was curious how someone who played it felt about it. ty in advance! :)

hi!! overall i really liked smtv tbh, at least enough to keep playing to get every ending (and then see the vengeance reveal THE NIGHT I FINISHED MY LAST RUN 😭)

i'll try to keep it a little vague in case you don't want too many spoilers but......there's still some spoilers lmao i'm so sorry but i at least tried to leave out the huge details or not explicitly say them

in terms of gameplay, it's really fun!! it's pretty difficult at first (i played on hard mode my first run but i've read that normal and casual can be challenging too i guess esp if you're new to the series) but it gets easier as you progress. a lot of people seemed to have a problem with the level scaling, esp for the shiva battle since he's a lv96 superboss (optional really but required for the secret neutral ending) but the bosses in the very final dungeon are like......lv80-85. even the final boss is only like lv85 unless you're doing the secret neutral route then he's lv90 i think. i didn't really think much ab the level scaling until i saw other people talking ab it but.......yea i had HUGE problems with shiva, i had to max out the level of my whole team just to take him on, but then it turned the endgame bosses into a total joke. i had a hard time with some of the other bosses too, the ones i remember the most being hydra, nuwa, lahmu, surt, and vasuki but it might be different on lower difficulties. the magatsuhi gauge + the skills were fun to use but the one you get at the very beginning that just comes with being a nahobino is.........kinda the only one you really need a lot of the time since you can just crit everything when you use it. it didn't really make all of the other ones obsolete tho since some were really good for survival like buffs/healing, it's just that it was a little too easy to get away with using the critical one for most of the time

oh, the unique skills were a good addition too, a lot of them were super useful like idun's, demeter's, and danu's since they all had good healing + extra effects. a lot of the new demons were good too, i haven't used all of them but the ones that i did use either really saved my ass or i just enjoyed having them on my team. although, i'm pretty disappointed the last 3 bosses aren't fusible and i'm ESPECIALLY disappointed that lucifer isn't fusible considering he was in apocalypse. he has such a good design in this game i'm so upset i can't have him on my team 😭 oh yea, and demons being locked behind an alignment is a little annoying but i don't really mind it much????? idk i feel like it gives the game a little more replay value, so i don't mind as long as it's not overly difficult to get. danu. inanna. and maria being locked behind certain alignments and ALSO being locked behind 70% compendium completion was a little annoying, but if you've got the macca to burn you can just summon directly from the compendium for new fusions until you get 70%, so it's not overly difficult to do. maybe a little tedious. i also liked the essence mechanic, but getting them was SUCH a pain since there isn't really any consistent way to farm them except for the aogami essences which are a little easier to get. i prefer the demon whisper from iv/a tbh but essences makes it easier to get certain skills on demons without having to do fusion gymnastics to get the perfect build

another thing is that there were only two real dungeons since the open areas were kinda supposed to serve as dungeons to a certain degree, but those two dungeons were........pretty underwhelming. the first one was really annoying cus it had a fan mechanic that would blow you to certain areas around the rooms and you kinda had to be careful with the timing on certain ones. it wasn't overly difficult to get around, it's just the fans that were a pain. the second dungeon was also the second to last area you go thru in the whole game and the setup was so ridiculous??????? like, it had a ton of long hallways and dead ends which is kinda to be expected but when you see a pic of the whole map for each section it's like "who the hell designed this?!" it's not even difficult to get thru, it's actually SUPER easy even with the time stopping doors gimmick which you can just......ignore entirely and the only consequence is losing out on some treasure. the layout is just weird and chaotic and seems like it might've been rushed cus it's also pretty empty, tbh both dungeons are

for the game's story..........oh god. it's pretty clear it was really rushed cus it was super underbaked. i didn't hate it, i actually liked the beginning a lot! but it falls off really bad after the second lahmu fight imo and the pacing just ends up all messed up. like the second lahmu fight feels like you're still early in the story but it's more like closer to midgame. and after finishing each major area, you end up going back to tokyo and having a meeting with your friends and director koshimizu at the research center, so all of those cutscenes look more or less the exact same since it's always in the same room and even the placement of the characters is almost the same. i've seen some people complain ab the lack of world building and while i don't think it has as much as iv/a did, a lot of the world building just ends up coming from talking to npcs and doing side quests instead of the main story. idk if that's good writing/design really but it's how the game ended up. there's also a few parts where they seem to be building up to something really big, but then the thing they were building up to ends up being mostly underwhelming. like the part where you meet yuzuru in da'at in front of the broken train, it feels like something is ab to happen, like a demon is gonna ambush them or they're gonna run into another friend like dazai, but then the convo ends and nothing happens. but it feels like something should've happened! and the pandemonic summit should've happened a lot earlier imo, idk i just feel like the placement of it is off cus after the summit, you're in the last main area and the end of the game is basically right around the corner. as long as you can beat the shit out of odin, zeus, and vasuki, you can get to the end relatively quickly, but it feels like more should've happened between the summit and the end of the game

i really liked a lot of the side quests tho! i think the khonsu one was my favorite and i wish he and miyazu didn't get sidelined so badly 😔 but the gameplay was really what kept me coming back for ng+ so many times tbh

the characters are all severely underdeveloped too, the only character that gets much at all is dazai tbh. yuzuru is off doing his own thing for a huge majority of the story and his sister miyazu is completely useless, getting minimized to being the chronically ill girl who just hangs out in the fairy forest the entire time. she get sidelined so badly which was so sad to me cus i ended up loving her, esp after the khonsu quest. sahori could've been given a little more, i wish she had a bigger role or something. tao also could've been expanded on a lot more especially considering her role in the grand scheme of things. even aogami doesn't get much of a backstory but it seems like they meant to try and touch on that but couldn't cus of time constraints. dazai is the only one that gets much of an arc at all, and it's decently interesting. i get that they might've wanted to try to do what nocturne did where you almost immediately split off from your friends and only meet intermittently, so their development happens offscreen, but i don't think this game did that very well. it also doesn't help that the world of v is so much more whimsical compared to nocturne

and oh god the ending...... i thought the cutscene where you finally ascend to the throne was beautiful so i don't necessarily hate it, but the way they tied the ending in with everything else was so obviously rushed and not well done. if you've played any of the other mainline games (mostly nocturne and iv/a are my frame of reference since i haven't played i or ii and haven't finished strange journey redux yet) it's really different in a way that i didn't really like. after you beat the final boss, the cutscene where you'd see or at least get an idea of the kind of world you created is so.....disappointing a little bit???? i won't spoil the endings for the other games in case you haven't played them, but the gist of them is that you're with your respective alignment rep and they're talking to you. but in v it's just.....you're getting narrated at by some guy! the whole thing is kinda just an info dump of how the new world turned out instead of getting to infer from the conversation with the alignment rep you sided with! like, really?? it would've been nice to see how the alignment reps felt about the new world at least

i was treating this as kinda a spoiler but tbh if you've played any other mainline game you can kinda expect lucifer to be the final boss or an endgame boss, but they basically used him as a huge infodump at the end?????? if you do the secret neutral ending he starts talking sometimes mid-battle about stuff about the universe that was never mentioned earlier in the story???? like, he talks about how the universe is doomed to reincarnate (which i know is par for the course in smt but still....) and that you have to kill him to break the cycle, but nobody else really mentioned that during the story. and i guess you could suspend your disbelief and say only he knows about it since he consumed the knowledge of the creator so of course none of the other characters would know, but that whole thing just felt really random, like the devs suddenly remembered that smt is supposed to have themes of reincarnation so they threw that in at the end. i don't think he mentions any of this in the other endings, and you don't even fight him in the normal neutral ending! and then after you kill him and see the cutscene about the new world, you find out in the post credits cutscene that none of that shit even worked!! so what the hell was all that for!?!!?!? i get that smt always has huge nihilist themes so the whole "you just did all of that for absolutely nothing cus we're doomed to reincarnate forever" thing isn't out of left field, but man seeing that post credits cutscene REALLY made it feel like i just did all that for absolutely fuckin' NOTHING. i'm kinda conflicted about it honestly, cus it was an interesting twist! i was surprised by it and the way they revealed it was really cool! but it also felt like it just diminished all of the world building lucifer just dumped onto us literally 10mins prior

the requirements for the secret neutral ending also felt really weird cus you're supposed to help all of these demons and it's basically showing you that even the demons aren't completely evil, but then the ending for that route is just "nah fuck all of them, this world is only for humans" and i just don't think it was a very good writing choice. the requirements make you feel like maybe there IS a solution for all of this conflict and maybe there is some kind of way to coexist with demons in a positive way, but then you see the ending and it's like oh......nvm then. maybe it turned out that way cus of time contraints, i don't know. i pretty strongly believe the secret neutral ending was meant to be a route centering around miyazu and khonsu considering the requirements to get it, but then the time constraints made atlus have to dump khonsu and miyazu off into a side quest and shift things around

overall, i'd say it was a good game! the gameplay is a lot more compelling than the story, but the problems with the story really only become glaringly obvious if you play it 4 times over like i did lmao. i've seen some people ask if they should play the game or wait for vengeance, or say that they got the game to play while waiting for vengeance to release and tbh.......i don't think it's all that worth it, if i didn't have the game already i'd just be waiting for vengeance since the story of the original game is still gonna be available, it'll just be a different path entirely. plus vengeance is supposed to have a lot of improvements both storywise and gameplay wise, so i feel like it's better to just wait. i'm really looking forward to it tho, i've been loosely following the trailers/news and it looks like miyazu will have more of a role and they've added a lot of cool gameplay mechanics 🥰

i wasn't expecting this to be so long, but i feel like there's a lot to say about the game even if it seems like there isn't. i just really liked the game despite all its problems and it's in really close second as my favorite after iv, so the release of vengeance makes me wonder if it'll top iv as my favorite. thanks for giving me a chance to word vomit ab it lol

[xinganhao]

🍨 svt spoiling their partner.

★ prompt: how ot13 spoils their partner? 🥹🥹🥹 i am just a girl give me treats c/o @shinwonderful

ⓘ established relationship, pet names, fluff. headcanons under the cut. special thanks to @chugging-antiseptic-dye for helping! ♡

🍨 read more?

seungcheol 𖹭 planning dates. he will refuse to let you lift a finger for your day out. everything will be meticulously laid out, finetuned to be something that you'll enjoy. his goal is to lessen the mental load of decision-making and planning; he wants you to be able to focus solely on enjoying the surprise, and he'll break his back to make sure that happens.

jeonghan 𖹭 'parallel play'. even if the two of you might not be interested in the same things, that's okay. he's happiest to spend quality time with you at home, where the two of you are free to do your own thing within eachother's presence. just being in your vicinity already makes him content, and so he plans everything around the two of you getting to explore and share your respective hobbies.

shua 𖹭 acts of service. need help with your taxes? need someone to fill up your tank? he's already on it. he'll say that these are all 'little things', call it the bare minimum, when it's apparent that he makes it a conscious effort to make your day-to-day easier. his brand of spoiling you comes in the form of quietly doing things that will improve your quality of life.

junhui 𖹭 buying clothes you'll like. he can't help it, really. when he sees an article of clothing that he thinks suits your style? when he finds a local brand that shares your advoacy? he's already pulling out his wallet. he likes the idea of dressing you up. nothing makes him happier than knowing you're wearing an outfit that he entirely picked out for you.

soonyoung 𖹭 daily reasons why he loves you. people always joke that he has a bit of a motormouth, so why shouldn't he use it on talking about you, you, you? he's big on words of affirmation, on making sure you never doubt how he feels for you. he'll point out the little and big things that make him adore you, and it's never the same reason twice.

wonwoo 𖹭 indulging your interests. he may not always understand these trends— blind boxes, must-have fashion pieces, et cetera— but he'll never make you feel bad about it. if there's anything that you want, he's already doing everything within his power to get it. his greatest joy is seeing your face light up once he's gotten you your 'priority' item; it's why he keeps doing it in the first place.

jihoon 𖹭 trying new things for you. there's a long list of things that jihoon never thought he'd do, but then he started dating you. time and time again, he willingly goes out of his comfort zone to accompany you on the little adventures and experiences that you ask to go on. he does these things scared, does them anxious, does them begrudgingly,— does them all for you.

seokmin 𖹭 meals he thinks you'll like. he's the type to have dozens of tabs open for homemade recipes dot com. he knows he's an amateur at this, but he's undeterred in trying. whether it's a trending pastry on tiktok or the comfort meal that your mother makes you, he's determined to learn it so you're always eating well.

mingyu 𖹭 getting-to-know card games. he gives as good as he takes, which means mingyu's way is to listen and remember. a night where the two of you can just have deep conversations with no interruptions is his ideal evening. he will know he succeeded if the two of you end up talking until the sun rises, feeling like the hours haven't passed at all.

minghao 𖹭 postcards from tour stops. he loves art and he loves you. his postcards are pocket-sized reminders of those facts, always packaged with a few choice words that are sweet and sincere. his trinkets are very "i-got-you-this-because-it-reminded-me-of-you" in nature, and you know each one was purchased with you at the front of mind.

seungkwan 𖹭 getting you your favorites. he figures he should put his industry connections to use somehow. he's always amused by how happy you get over a rare photocard, signed album, or concert tickets, and so he keeps it up. buying dozens of albums, contacting other labels, bearing the arduous ticketing. your excitement at the end of it makes it all worth it.

vernon 𖹭 producing songs. he hadn't really pegged himself as the making-music-for-the-sake-of-it type until he met you. now, he revels in getting to send you a track that's for your ears only. all the lyrics just seems to flow naturally when it's you inspiring him, and so he sends you works-in-progress with reminders that you're the only intended audience.

chan 𖹭 at-home massages. he's all too familiar with the aches of an ailing body, so he knows exactly how and where to work on you. he always does what he calls 'the works'— a good bath, scented candles, essential oils. he lets you take your time, and he takes his time with you in helping you unwind.

› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

the pro

part ii: what we're willing to accept

Pairing: Art Donaldson x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only. minors, please get off my lawn.

Notes: My brain chose violence this morning. Not beta-read because when is it ever.

Length: 4.8K

Warnings: Slow burn; unhappily married reader; divorced Art Donaldson; infidelity; oral sex (female receiving); vaginal sex; unsafe sex

Summary: Every lesson becomes an exercise in self-control. You force yourself to try, really try, and not make silly mistakes for the sake of Art coming closer, grasping your arm or elbow, pressing close and redirecting your swing. You don’t know what you crave more these days: his praise or his touch.

He's the biggest men's tennis star since Andy Roddick.

That’s what your husband says, as if it’ll entice you. As if you know anything about tennis, about the pro that your husband says will be coming to the house to teach you to play.

It’ll be good for you. You need a hobby. 

You don’t gripe or argue. You don’t tell him that five months into your marriage shouldn’t have you looking for a new hobby. You should still be in the honeymoon stage, spending all of your time with him, hanging off of his arm, off of his every word. But he works so much and he’s away so often—

I don’t want you to get bored. 

It’s a sweet gesture. The maid handles the housework; you have a chef that handles most of the grocery shopping and cooking, unless you insist on making something yourself; you have a housekeeper that arranges for anything you need—dry cleaning, maintenance. And it’s no wonder that with all of his money, his power, he can just order a retired pro tennis player up to your house, like you’d order a pizza. There’s a tennis court in the back of the mansion, a few feet from the pool. You’ll get some new outfits, the best sneakers, the nicest rackets. You’ll finally have something to do to fill your days. 

Art Donaldson. 

You know his name before the lean, fair-skinned patrician man turns up at your front door. He trails you through the house, politely declines your offer of a beverage. 

“You ever played tennis before?” He asks. 

You haven’t. Before your husband arranged this for you, you hadn’t so much as given the sport more than a passing thought. You don’t have the heart or confidence to tell that to a man that’s made tennis his whole life, so you just give him a small, guilty smile and say no, you haven’t. He nods, waves you off, insists that it’s fine. 

“We’ll start with the basics.” 

-- 

Two months of lessons on the basics make your arms tired, and your hands sore. But where your swings are clumsy and your grip is weak at first, you can see improvement in the way that you move. Your steps are less clumsy when you go after a ball; you’re more aware of the service line and the base line; your forehand stroke from contact to your left shoulder is smoother; your rotation and follow-through on your backhand is coming along, but has a long way to go. 

Art’s instruction is calm and steady. He explains technique as much as he demonstrates it. When you get something wrong, he doesn’t scold, just lightly corrects. When you do something well, his encouragement is constant and free-flowing. Every accurate move and motion is met with, “Nice,” or, “Perfect,” or, “That’s it.” 

On the days when you don’t have a lesson with Art, you practice. You order a tennis ball machine to work on your forehand and backhand. You attempt (and fail) to learn how to slice on your own. You try anyway—you can only imagine the way his eyes might light up if you manage to surprise him. 

You’ve tried to ignore the rising interest that you have in Art, but you can’t help the little…Crush that’s developed. He’s just so attentive, and kind. When you find yourself smiling these days, it’s often because of something that he said, or did. You can’t remember the last time your husband made you feel giddy this way. It was probably when you started dating—before you’d made the decision to marry for comfort, rather than love. Your husband is practical, rarely physically affectionate, more heavily involved in his job and social circles than with you. 

But you’ll have to find a way to thank him. He’s given you a hobby, and a man that grins at you like you just painted the goddamn Mona Lisa when you serve your first ace. 

-- 

“So, tell me about the Mark Rebellato Academy.” 

Art smiles, dipping his head as he reaches for his coffee. It’s taken a few months, but you finally convince him to have something to drink with you after practice. Your chef is blessedly out shopping for ingredients for dinner, so you have the kitchen all to yourself. Art has watched you putter around, seeming surprised that you know where everything is. You can’t blame him; the kitchen is chef-grade, and you don’t cook much these days. 

“Did your husband tell you that’s where I went?” 

“No.” 

“Then how do you know?” 

You’re too embarrassed to admit that you’ve done some googling, and watched a couple of clips of him interviewing before and after his matches. 

“I’ve just heard,” You fib. “Tell me about it?” 

He leans back in his seat, eyes skating across your face as he seems to consider something. 

“What do you wanna know?” 

“Did you enjoy it? I mean—” It feels like a dumb question once it’s out, and you hurry to redirect, “With what you know now, if you had the choice, would you have learned how to play tennis somewhere else?” 

He considers for a moment, trailing his finger over the side of his cup. Your gaze flits to his fingers, and your own flex around your mug handle. You’ve spent far too much time looking at and thinking about Art’s fingers—their length and quickness; the slight roughness of his calloused hands; the lingering tan line from where his wedding band used to sit. 

“Yeah,” He admits, drawing your full attention back to his face. “I would. It was foundational, you know. I’ve been thinking of sending Lily there.” 

“Lily?” 

A bittersweet smile twists his lips. “My daughter.” 

“Oh!” It catches you off-guard.  

“Tashi, uh—” He clears his throat, “Lily’s mother, my ex-wife. She and I are thinking about schools.” 

“I’m sure they’d be glad to have her. Does she play tennis?” 

“Little bit. She didn’t start until last year, but she's a natural.” He clears his throat again, presses, “Are you and your husband planning on having kids?” 

“Oh god no.” You blurt it out, and realize as he raises his brows that you’ve spoken too quickly. You lean back in your seat, stirring your coffee quickly to distract yourself from your growing embarrassment. “He actually has kids already. Two girls, seven and ten. They’re at boarding school and they stay with their mother when they're on vacation. I haven’t gotten to spend much time with them.” 

“...He seems to be pretty busy.” 

“He is.” 

“So it’s just you in this big house?” He tips his head to the side, brows knitting with curiosity. “What do you do all day?” 

“Play tennis.”

He grins, chuckling, and your stomach flips at the sound. 

“It shows, you know,” He says. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I can tell you’re practicing without me. And,” He leans across the table, running his fingers lightly over the exposed skin of your bicep, “You’re getting stronger.” 

You wonder if he can see or feel the goosebumps that break out across your skin at the gentle sweep, his gaze heavy on yours.

“I have a good teacher,” You murmur. Art’s lips twitch with a soft smile, his hand gently cupping your arm. 

“Just good?” He plies. 

“The best. A real pro.” 

His smile widens, and the flash of his tongue sweeping across his lower lip makes your face go hot. You know that you’re caught when Art’s touch becomes firmer, pulling your arm toward him just a little. 

The sound of approaching footsteps startles you, and you hurriedly tug your arm away. The sight of your husband makes your heart leap into your throat. 

“There you are,” He smiles. “Art, how’s she doin’?” 

“She’s killing it.” 

You don’t dare look at him, but you can feel the weight of his attention lingering on you still. You just give your husband a smile, tipping your cheek up obligingly as he leans down to kiss it. 

“Actually, Art,” Your husband straightens up, hands resting on your shoulders. “I’m glad I caught you. There’s a charity event for a local club this month. It’s for uh…What is it?” He squeezes your shoulders for answers, and you have to keep from rolling your eyes. 

“It’s a charity tennis match to raise funds to fix up the local courts. They need resurfacing and they’re raising funding to keep the fees down.” 

“We could use a sponsorship from the foundation,” Your husband adds. 

“Honey,” You glance back, wary of insulting Art. But—

“I’ll do it,” Art agrees. “Send me the details.” 

“Excellent,” Your husband grins. “Maybe we could coax you into a match or two.” 

You don’t chastise him this time—not when you see something light up in Art.

“Maybe.” 

--  

You haven’t seen Art play before. You’ve specifically avoided it. You’ve known that when you saw it, you would be too intimidated to do a damn thing on the court with him. But now, you can’t stop watching him. You don’t even care that you probably look so out of place—where everyone else is watching the ball, you’re just watching him. 

His movements are so neat, so precise. It’s like watching a dance. He’s running the poor guy on the other side of the net up and down the court. And the sounds that he’s making—god. Every little grunt and groan is weaving increasingly filthy thoughts in your mind. You already know that you’ll seek out the memory of those sounds, as you reach between your legs later. His shirt clings to his chest, showcasing the muscles that you’ve always suspected he has. Strands of hair plaster to his forehead as sweat drips over his cheekbones, down the bridge of his nose, over his jaw. 

When he scores a match point and he looks toward the cheering crowd—when his eyes land on you instantly, without having to search—it’s like you’ve been hit by a bolt of lightning. You can’t think, or move. You barely have the focus to applaud, but you manage to raise your hands and clap. 

-- 

Every lesson becomes an exercise in self-control. You force yourself to try, really try, and not make silly mistakes for the sake of Art coming closer, grasping your arm or elbow, pressing close and redirecting your swing. You don’t know what you crave more these days: his praise or his touch. 

Coffee becomes a post-lesson ritual. He starts to stick closer and closer to you as he follows you into the house until he begins to rest his hand on your lower back, guiding you to your door. He keeps nearby when you’re making it, brushes droplets of sweat off of your forehead or neck. Every touch is electrifying; you have to make a concentrated effort to keep your hands steady, your face neutral as your heart pounds and your stomach floods with butterflies. 

He pushes you harder on the court, and you force yourself to meet the level that he sets for you, even when you don’t feel confident in it. But you want to make him proud. 

It spurs you to lunge a little too far. 

The sharp stabbing pain in your left ankle makes you shriek, and you tumble to the ground, dropping the racket with a clatter. You hear the pounding of his feet, glance up just in time to see him clear the net before he’s on the ground at your side. 

“What hurts?” 

“My ankle,” You grit out, hissing softly as he helps you straighten your leg out. He smooths his hands over your calf, leaning over you and gently guiding your foot in a few different directions. You whimper as he starts to guide your foot to the left. 

“Okay, okay,” He soothes, “Let’s get you inside.” 

For as much as you damn the throbbing in your ankle, you thank it a little, too. You lean heavily against Art, making the slow, arduous journey back to the house with his arm wrapped tightly around your middle. 

When your husband comes home, he finds you with on the couch with Art coming back in from the kitchen, an ice pack in your hand. 

You’d hope for concern, but your husband frowns, glances at the swelling knob of your ankle, and simply asks: “What did you do?” 

“She lost her balance.” Art sits down on the other end of the couch, soothing you as the chill of the ice pack makes you shift with discomfort. 

“Are you going to be able to walk tomorrow?” Your husband presses. “We have dinner at the Fineman’s.”

“I'm still going, don't worry about that."

“...Tomorrow might be a bit soon,” Art warns. 

“I’ll be okay. It’s just a sprain, right?” You tip your brows up, hoping, praying that he’ll agree for your sake. His fingers flex around the ice pack, jaw ticking as he clenches it. He doesn’t say a word as your husband sighs heavily, grumbles, “I hope so. Still, we should put a pause on the lessons until she’s fighting fit again.” 

Art finally tears his eyes from yours, a tight smile on his lips. 

“Of course.” 

-- 

“How’s the ankle?” 

It takes you a moment to scrounge up an answer. You can’t believe that he called. You knew that Art had gotten your number when you started taking lessons with him, but he’s never used it beyond texting to confirm a lesson time now and again. 

You look down at the still-swollen flesh as it strains against the thin strap of your slingbacks. 

“Fine,” You lie, “It’s um—” You glance over your shoulder, listening for your husband. “It’s not that bad.” 

“Good enough to walk on?” 

Hardly. 

“Yes.” You think you’ve gotten away with it, but when you hear Art sigh and chastise, “You should rest,” You know that you haven’t.

“I have,” You insist, “All day.” 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” 

“Yes.” 

“You can tell him no, you know.”

Your mouth works wordlessly, body going hot with indignation. You can’t think of a thing to say. You can’t tell him that he’s wrong, that your husband’s connections are the lifeblood of his business. You can’t tell him that if your husband’s business falls apart, you won't be able to afford those tennis lessons, and then how the hell are you supposed to see Art again? 

You just yank your phone away from your ear and hang up. 

-- 

I invited Art. 

It shouldn’t be a surprise, but your husband’s statement makes you feel like you’ve swallowed your tongue. You haven’t seen or spoken to Art in nearly two weeks. Your doctor recommended putting off any physical activity, which your husband surely relayed to him. He was the one whose name was on Art’s checks, after all. 

Your husband has always thrown a massive party to kick off the summer. Every year, 150 of your husband’s closest family, friends, and business associates flooded into the house. It shouldn’t be such a surprise that your husband invited Art after the performance he had given at the fundraiser—$25,000 from the foundation, and ticket sales went through the roof when it had been announced that the Art Donaldson would be making an appearance. Your husband owed Art a lot, and probably saw this as an opportunity for him to network, to take on more clients. He had been evangelizing Art’s training to any of your friends that would listen—how good you are on the court, how engaged and energetic you seem to be these days. 

It’s one thing to know that you’ll have to put on a happy face for the crowd, but to know that Art will be among them makes your insides twist with nerves. You can’t stop thinking about the way that he had spoken to you when you were hurt; his calm, steadying demeanor as he’d gotten you inside; the careful coaxing and gentle touch that he’d used as he’d taken your shoe off and examined your ankle more closely. 

You think about it now, as you strap on another pair of heels. Your ankle really is doing well, though you have a little lingering pain in shoes like these. You’ll likely be on your feet for the length of the party; it’s going to be a long night. You look over yourself in the mirror, self consciously tipping your ankle from side to side for anything that he may spot or catch out. But there’s nothing, you reassure yourself. You slide your hands over the skirt, plastering on a smile as your husband pokes his head into your dressing room. 

“Almost ready in here?” He asks. 

“All set!” 

-- 

He doesn’t come over to you. On the crowded patio, you can feel him watching you—you’ve gotten so used to seeking out the sensation that you can’t ignore it now. The first true look at him is agony. He watches you from just a few feet away, a glass of champagne in hand as he speaks with your husband and the Finemans. He openly looks you over, eyes drifting over your body to the flash of ankle revealed by the slit in your dress. He tips his head to the side just a little, squinting before his eyes flit back up to your face, lips twitching with a small smile. 

You want to hate how good it feels; you want to be angry with him for his smug knowing, his insistence of You can tell him no, you know. But it feels so goddamn good to have his attention again that you can’t bring yourself to be annoyed. You know that you’re staring—that you both are—and you force yourself to turn away and excuse yourself from the conversation you’re in. You go inside, murmuring your thanks for the waitstaff that pass you along the way.

The house isn’t nearly as busy as the patio, and you're able to slip into your darkened study unnoticed. You leave the lights off, certain that if you turn them on, people will be drawn in to bug you, like moths to a flame. The party’s lights and music filter in through the partially-closed blinds. 

You lean against the desk, circling your ankle and wincing a little. You’ll hide for a few minutes, let it rest—

Your breath catches in your throat as the door opens. You expect your husband, ready to scold and usher you back to the guests. 

You only have a second to get a look at Art before he shuts the door behind himself, plunging the room back into darkness. Your fingers tighten around the edge of the desk as you use it to ground yourself. 

“...Do you need something?” You ask, voice wobbling with nerves. 

“Wanted to come say hi.” 

“Well. Hi.” 

You hear him chuckle, his footsteps muted by the carpet. 

“Thanks for the invite.” 

“It wasn’t my idea.” It’s not polite to admit, but you want it to sting him, just a little. Maybe it does; in the dim of the room, you can’t see Art’s expression as he comes to a stop just a couple of feet from you. 

“Do you want me to go?” He asks. You know what you should say, but you can’t bring yourself to say it. 

“No,” You whisper. You feel the heat of him as he comes closer, his hands resting on the desk and caging you in. You bite your lip as gently brushes his nose against yours. 

“He isn’t taking care of you.” 

“My ankle is fine.” 

“I’m not talking about your ankle.” He lifts a hand, smoothing it over your hip as your breath mingles. Art’s fingers drift from your hip to stroke over the apex of your dress’s slit. His fingers slip further down, and you nod as he palms your thigh. Before you can say or do a thing, Art sinks to his knees. He curls his hand around your left calf, lifting it. You shiver as his lips press a gentle kiss to your ankle. His hand and lips travel up, easing the fabric of your dress higher with each second. The first brush of his knuckles against your panty-covered clit makes you jolt. Your hands dig into the wood of the desk as his fingers hook between the fabric and your skin. You lift your hips without a word, allowing him to draw them down. 

Art presses a kiss to your mound before he lowers his head, giving your lips a sweet, sucking kiss. You gasp softly as his tongue swipes across your clit. You look down despite the fact that you can’t see him well. You can just make out his blissful expression, his eyes closed as his laps broadly across your aching cunt. You lower your hand to his neat hair, winding your fingers through it, unable to help grasping it. His heady moan vibrates against you and you nearly cry out at the sensation. You manage to just catch it, the sound dying in your throat as Art buries his tongue inside you. He sweeps his thumb over your clit in rush, harried circles, panting against your heated flesh. You rock your hips down against his lips, tightening your grip on his hair as you guide him. He lets you do as you please, whining against your skin as your movements become less controlled.

“Art,” You warn, “I—Oh, oh god—” 

He hums in encouragement, sucking your clit back between his lips and lashing it with his tongue. Your jaw drops open, your hand shoving Art even more tightly against your skin as you cum suddenly. A stunned, breathy moan slips from your lips as Art leans back, smearing his lips against the inside of your thigh. 

You use your grasp on Art’s hair to draw him back up off of his knees, giving him a crushing kiss as he catches his balance. You swipe your tongue across his lips, whining against his lips as you taste yourself on him. He presses close, his hard cock straining against the fabric of his pants. You reach down, palming and squeezing his length as you trade slick, messy kisses. He steers you back onto the desk as you fumble to undo his belt, button, and zip. 

“Condom?” He asks. 

“Pill,” You reassure, shoving his pants down. You lap broadly across your palm, grasping Art’s length and guiding him closer. He brushes the tip of his cock against your still-throbbing clit, smiling as you whine. You’re going to ache tomorrow, but you’ve never been so happy to be sore.

“Art.” 

“Sssh.” 

“Please—” It’s hardly out of your mouth before he shoves his hips forward, seating himself fully with a single thrust. You bite down on your lip to quiet your moan, curling your arms around your shoulders. He rocks into you with firm, quick strokes, his mouth covering yours. You can hear things on the desk rattling with each thrust, kisses growing less controlled as he hoists your thigh up around his hip. 

“Oh, god,” You breathe, “We have to be quick—He’ll come looking—” 

“Not until you cum for me again,” He urges. “I need to feel it, sweetheart.” 

“Art—” 

“When’s the last time he did this? Hmm?” He presses, “When’s the last time he made you cum? When’s the last time he tasted you?” 

“Never,” You admit with a shiver. It seems to renew Art’s passion, his thrusts and hold growing more intense. You squeeze your eyes shut, hands hooking tightly in the fabric of his jacket. He yanks the front of your dress down, bowing over you and drawing one of your nipples between his lips. You whimper as he toys with the bud, tugging it gently with his teeth before swiping across it. You arch into the slick heat, using your leg to tug him even closer as you chased the swelling curl of your orgasm. 

“Just like that,” You urge, “Ffffuck—yes, yesyesyesyes—”

Your eyes squeeze shut as your hips buck down against his, pussy pulsing as he spills into you. Your heart pounds in your chest as the two of you slow and still. Art rests his forehead heavily against your neck, peppering gentle kisses across the exposed skin. You have to move—now. You don’t know if anyone heard you, but if someone did, you’re screwed. If no one did, your husband will probably be looking for you anyway, ready with a scold for neglecting your hostess duties. 

“...I have to go,” You warn softly. It takes Art a moment to move, but he does, gently drawing himself back from your still-throbbing cunt. You hear the clanking of his belt buckle as he tucks himself away, and you reach down, righting your dress where it’s been pulled away. You take up your panties from where they’d been discarded on the floor, tugging them on before you straighten your skirt and hurry out of the room. 

--  

“Can I see you?” 

It’s only been an hour since the last guest has left, and you are so, so fucking tired. You glance toward the bathroom door. You know that you locked it, and you’re certain that your husband can’t hear you over the shower running, but you can’t help but be paranoid.

“You just saw me,” You remind him. 

“Tomorrow,” Art clarifies. 

“Where?” 

“I’ll send an address.” 

You bite your lip, toying with your earring. Your pussy is still aching from the stretch of him, your ass sore from getting fucked on the desk. 

“...You regret it?” He asks. 

“No,” You don't give your answer a second thought.

“I’ll send an address. Whether or not you see me is up to you. Just…think about it. Okay?” 

“Okay.” 

You lower your phone, hanging it up and watching his contact information blink away. It’s only a moment before a text with an address lights up your phone. You don’t have to think about it. You already know what you’re going to do. 

--  

You know that you’re staring, but you can’t bring yourself to stop. Art has spent so much time in your home, so you feel entitled to look around a little bit. You eye the row of trophies on his mantle, photos of him playing when he was young. You come to a stop at a picture of him with a young girl, a racket in her hand and a medal around her neck. 

“Is this Lily?” You ask. 

“Yeah,” He nods. “First competition.” 

“Already getting gold,” You smile. “The Mark Rebellato Academy isn’t ready for her.” 

Art chuckles, nodding as he steps around you.

“You, uh…You want something to eat, or drink, or…?” He trails off, tucking his hands into his pockets as he takes a couple of steps back toward his kitchen. You turn to face him, taking him in more fully. 

“Art?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Why am I here?” 

He doesn’t answer for a few moments. You can see him weighing his options before he comes closer. 

“I…I’ve been thinking about last night.” 

Fear shoots through you, but you force yourself to stand tall. “Okay.”

“I could lie and tell you that it should be a one-time thing, but I can’t remember the last time I got through a day without thinking about you. And I think you’ve been thinking about me, too.” Art stops as the tip of his shoes brush against yours, and you let your eyes slip closed as he rests his forehead against yours. 

“Tell me I’m wrong,” He pleads. “Tell me to fuck off right now and I will never say another non-tennis related thing to you again.” 

-- 

When he fucks you, he curls close, chest pressing against yours as he catches your lips in a kiss. You sink back against his pillows, your head cradled by his broad palm as he rolls his hips achingly slowly. You don’t bother to hide your whines and moans, and you revel in his. Every grunt and whimper and groan that Art lets out lights you up. 

And when you cum, you don't have to quiet yourself. His name tumbles out of your mouth, cushioned between expletives as your nails dig into his shoulders.

--

"What time is he home tonight?"

You don't want to think about it. You want to stay in this cozy little bubble, trailing your fingers over his muscled chest as he massages your nape and kisses your forehead.

But you know that you'll have to let the world back in sometime.

"I don't know," You admit. "Late."

"...Could stay."

"He'll be suspicious if I'm not home when he gets there."

Art sighs softly, running his hand down to rub between your shoulder blades.

"This isn't going to be easy, is it."

"What?"

"Letting you go every day."

"Every day?" You tease, pushing yourself up to get a better look at him. "Don't get greedy, Mr. Donaldson."

He smiles, raising his hand and cupping your cheek. "Is it greedy to know what I want?"

You shake your head a little, lowering your lips to brush against his.

"Not when I want it, too."

part ii: what we're willing to accept

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21

@ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage​​​ ;  @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity

@millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ;

@buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @lorecraft ; @kmc1989

[bbyseok]

at first sight? — GOJO SATORU

pairing: gojo satoru x gn!reader

word count: 10k (idek i was possessed)

banner by @/bbyseok , dividers by @/bunnysrph !!

a/n: um hi. its finally here ! thanks to all who liked the teaser, this is my first jjk/gojo fic ever but i really think everyone needs some comfort after jjk chap 261.. and fuck u gege !!

content: soulmate au, gender neutral reader, minimal use of they/them pronouns for reader but gender is not specified, sorcerer reader, nicknames ‘sweetheart’, ‘pretty’, ‘baby’, fluff, mild angst with a happy ending, slowburn??, several pov switches, suggestive/implied nsfw at the end but nothing explicit, brief swearing/explicit language, brief violence/injuries, alcohol consumption, reader gets mildly drunk but nothing else, implied satosugu as past soulmates: can be interpreted as either romantic or platonic, fic takes place after jjk 0 but before the show starts

analysis: this is a world filled not only with curses, but soulmates—in which you know someone is your soulmate when you first make eye contact with them. but for your case, things can get a bit complicated when someone is wearing a blindfold.

here, in this universe, you can tell that someone is your soulmate by simply looking at them. so with that, the saying of “love at first sight” is actually pretty accurate here. you see them for the very first time and barely know the person and yet, somehow, they’re the one you’re destined to be with.

with that, you’d think it’d be pretty common for two random people to run into each other while crossing the street or something and bam! suddenly you’ve found the supposed love of your life!

and you? well, for you, that hasn’t happened yet.

to be fair, it’s not like you’re actively trying to look for your soulmate. handling curses as a jujutsu sorcerer is difficult enough. (maybe you’ll run into them one day after saving them from a curse or something. how romantic!)

it’s better to leave it up to fate. it’s fate who decided your pairing anyway, right?

your transfer to jujutsu tech had been fairly smooth. after being stationed in kyoto for a while, tokyo was a nice change of pace.

coincidentally, you had been out of the country during the incident known as the night parade of a hundred demons. a scary event that proved the threat of curse users to be formidable.

because of that, your decision to transfer to tokyo seemed like the right thing to do. and so far, it’s been decent.

it’s a nice change of scenery. the students are aspiring; while maki and megumi aren’t the friendliest, they’re warming up to you. toge and panda are gradually improving.

nanami’s pessimistic outlook on jujutsu society and shoko’s overall unenthusiastic demeanor are certainly interesting for the most part, but your coworkers are pleasant to be around.

well. except for one.

gojo satoru knows that you are his soulmate. he has indeed known this fact right from the very start, ever since your first meeting.

even with his blindfold on, he could see your own eyes before him. his six eyes can see everything. the thing is.. he didn’t know he could have another soulmate.

his situation with geto suguru is something he doesn’t talk about with anyone. maybe shoko at times, but even then, it’s rare. it’s not that he doesn’t want to, but it’s pretty hard to talk about.

after suguru defected, gojo could still obviously feel their bond. even though they were no longer together as the strongest duo, did it really matter when their souls were still connected to one another? it was a factor that played in avoiding (and perhaps meeting up with) each other as the years went by.

satoru felt their bond die that day after the events with okkotsu and rika. and it had frightened him. that lingering presence of the bond was no longer there.

so imagine his surprise when he sees you.

a new sorcerer in kyoto, now transferred to tokyo. normally, gojo doesn’t seek out the new recruits, but yaga had dragged him over regardless. besides, he might as well get to know his possible assistant teacher that would be helping him out with the new first years.

“i guess i can check out some new faces,” he relented with a sigh, adjusting his blindfold and looking to the side as yaga’s steps slowed as they approached you.

gojo rolled his eyes–not that you’d see it anyway–as yaga introduced you with your name and your sorcerer grade. he stopped to stand next to the principal.

you extended your hand to offer a handshake, and gojo finally turned his head.

that feeling as his gaze fell upon yours beneath the blindfold was familiar—frighteningly so—and unfamiliar at the same time. as if he could breathe for the first time in ages. your eyes are unaware, but they’re so revealing to him.

satoru stuttered in his movements, reluctantly taking your hand. the skin that touched yours felt like it was on fire. he briefly held on to see if you felt it too.

but you simply smiled up at him.

“it’s nice to meet you, gojo,” you said, blissfully unaware of the revelation currently dawning on the man before you and the turmoil it brought as he abruptly retracted his arm back.

gojo stiffened. he merely offered a curt nod before turning on heel and walking away briskly. he could faintly hear yaga protest about his sudden departure before apologizing to you hastily. satoru shook his head.

how was this be possible? how could the universe give him two soulmates? he didn’t even know that was a thing that could happen. he wondered if there had been a similar occurrence before.

gojo couldn’t help but feel nauseous. was this the world playing some sort of sick, cruel joke on him? or was it perhaps giving him a second chance?

and truthfully, it wasn’t like gojo even wanted another soulmate. not after what he had been through with suguru. he hadn’t given it much thought.

was it really worth it?

what if he couldn’t protect you too?

so satoru had decided on one thing that day: the blindfold stays on. concealing his eyes from the world not only for him, but for your sake too. he was certain in his choice; he would never tell you the truth.

as far as you were concerned, you haven’t met your soulmate yet.

and never will.

your first meeting with gojo wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but it wasn’t something you could describe as good either. you’ve been left with the impression that he’s cocky and indifferent.

and that he doesn’t like you.

it’s been around.. two? three weeks? it’s been a while since your encounter with the white-haired sorcerer, and you’ve only seen a few glimpses of him here and there on campus.

okay, he doesn’t display any outright mean or ill intention towards you. on the very rare times the two of you do interact, he is obviously curt and clipped. seems like he’s deemed you worthy of the only either nods or one word responses.

you’ve yet to actually participate in a lesson or mission with gojo, but you prefer it that way. providing individual training and advice for the upcoming second years has been going great. at this point, you’re sure it’d only be awkward.

besides, the strongest sorcerer alive doesn’t necessarily need assistance in dealing with curses after all. that much is understandable.

you’re currently in the teachers’ lounge room with nanami. even though he isn’t actually a teacher, he pays visits sometimes. he’s good company anyway.

“it’s nice to hear that you’re settling in well,” the blonde says with a nod. he loosens his necktie absentmindedly as he adjusts the newspaper in his lap. “especially with that gojo around. he can be a pain in the ass sometimes.”

you frown at the mention of the sorcerer, crossing your arms. you’re seated across from nanami, watching him idly look through the newspaper.

“oh, well, actually, he isn’t too much trouble. for me, at least,” you reply, brows furrowing, “he barely talks to me.” (in fact, he seems to avoid you like you’re carrying the plague or something.)

nanami looks up, raising a brow. “huh. you should be grateful then.” he then hums, “but maybe that’ll change once there’s actually new first year students to teach. you both are assigned to them after all.”

you lean back in your seat, your shoulders committing to a halfhearted shrug. “maybe. it’s not like i never did anything bad to him though..”

nanami sighs gruffly. “don’t think about it too much.” before he can continue, there’s the sound of footsteps. nanami brings his newspaper back up, muttering, “speak of the devil.”

“nanamiiii!” gojo’s voice sounds from around the corner. it almost startles you how lively he sounds. you realize you’ve never actually heard or seen how he acts without you around.

nanami doesn’t respond, rolling his eyes.

gojo strolls in enthusiastically, blindfold on. “heyy, nanami, we should-” he cuts off when he presumably sees you, falling quiet and stopping short.

you blink, a bit hurt. does he dislike you that much? but you don’t let it show, resorting to greeting him politely like you usually do when you occasionally pass each other.

“good afternoon, gojo,” you muse, offering a little wave.

nanami notices his reaction too, but doesn’t comment on it. he continues to ignore the sorcerer’s presence in fact, eyes still roaming over the newspaper.

gojo clears his throat and resumes his pace. “afternoon,” he responds, focusing his attention back on nanami. he reaches the two of you, giving you no further acknowledgment.

you don’t care if he can see you looking at him, you opt to stare at the black blindfold covering his face. you have a hunch that he can see, or at least feel, you staring at him.

“can i borrow you for a sec, nanami?”

nanami emits an exasperated sigh, but stands nonetheless to follow gojo out of the room for some discussion not meant for your ears apparently, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

do you make gojo uncomfortable? you don’t know what you could’ve possibly done so though. from what you’ve heard from the others, he can be rather eccentric and overbearing.

does he just not like you? perhaps he views you as inferior, too below his level and power to actually converse with you. while it seems a bit of a stretch, you’re sure it’s not out of the possibility also based on what you’ve heard about him from others.

your frown returns. before you can dwell on it any longer, nanami comes back into the room. “well, i certainly see what you mean from what you said about gojo earlier,” he announces.

his words do nothing to falter your frown. “right.” you then shrug once more, “it’s okay. it’s just a bit.. strange.” you then shake your head, trying to be a bit optimistic. “but also like you said earlier, that might change! who knows?”

who knows, indeed.

megumi tucks the cursed tools inside their designated box and closes the lid. he moves on to the next one right as gojo enters the shed, beaming a smile.

“hey, megumi. you almost done wrapping up things here?” satoru asks, undoing his blindfold naturally. there’s a pair of glasses in his hand ready for use.

the teen nods. they had used a few cursed tools during training session today, and the storage did need a bit of tidying up. “almost done.”

satoru makes a noise of approval as he places his glasses on. “great! do you need help setting up your dorm room?” he looks excited at the idea, still grinning.

meanwhile, megumi looks disinterested at his offer. “no thanks. i think it’ll be easy enough. it’s not like i’m decorating it anyway.”

“oh, boo.” but gojo doesn’t insist on it any further. he actually falls strangely quiet, which causes megumi to glance at him curiously.

his teacher looks.. distraught. it’s hard to actually tell, but he seems to be looking at the floor, maybe lost in thought. before megumi can say anything, gojo’s expression changes and he starts talking again.

“you’re, uh, with the new teacher for tomorrow,” gojo then informs. he shoves his hands into his pockets and kicks at the floor absentmindedly. (he’s fidgeting. subtly.) “it’ll just be you two, i think, on a small mission. so they can get used to actually working with students on field. it’ll be good for the both of you.”

megumi nods. he tilts his head afterward. “you can say their name, you know. it won’t kill you,” he says a bit pointedly, “and they’re not technically new anymore. it has been a few weeks now since they’ve joined the school.”

“right, right.” megumi’s face scrunches up as gojo’s hand comes down to ruffle his hair gently. (a habit that has not died since his younger days.) “whatever you say, megumi.”

despite your minimal interactions and his rather closed off demeanor, megumi is actually one of your favorite students. (and yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have favorites, but oh well.)

your mission with megumi, or rather, the mission you’ve been assigned to supervise the student on, is rather simple.

there’s been reports of a low grade curse roaming the premises of a supermarket neighboring a nearby cemetery, so megumi is to obviously exorcise it under your watch. the area has been closed off with a small veil. megumi had decided to check the parking lot first for any lingering traces, so here you are.

“i think we’re good here,” the teenager confirms as his demon dogs return to his feet, seemingly in the clear. you nod and let him lead the way towards the inside of the store.

as the two of you begin to walk down each aisle with one of the demon dogs trailing behind, megumi says your name in an inquisitive tone. “what do you think of gojo-sensei?”

the sudden question has you blinking in surprise. your eyes scan megumi as you both continue to trek down the aisle. “what makes you ask?”

“no reason.” he doesn’t meet your gaze.

you bite down on your lip in contemplation. you’re not sure what brings this question to mind for him, but you’re willing to indulge him for now. “well.. i think he’s.. alright.” you pause. “as a sorcerer, i admire his strength. though, i think a lot of people think that obviously.”

“and as a person?” megumi presses, turning to investigate the next aisle. he still doesn’t glance over to you, still preoccupied with searching for the curse.

(hell, for a teenager, he sure is perceptive.)

you choose your words carefully, thinking it over with a brief pause.

“i’ll admit, i don’t think i know him well enough to be sure. as a person, i think he’s.. self-centered and rude. sometimes, i see him act very carefree in a way. he’s.. obscure, i guess.” you clear your throat and reiterate, “but again, i don’t really... know him.”

you can see megumi go over your words silently. the quiet continues. the conversation seems to be dying, but it doesn’t matter when monstrous gurgling sounds up ahead.

a curse appears in front of you, the shelving of the aisles toppling over as it gargles some unintelligible roar. megumi doesn’t hesitate, using his technique to summon his demon dogs once more to swiftly engage in combat.

the fight is easily handled in three minutes top. (they weren’t kidding when they said it’d be easy.)

after the commotion has settled, you allow megumi to do one more check up around the store just in case. just as you are prepared to exit and bring down the veil, you decide it’s your turn to ask him now.

“and what about you, megumi?” you inquire lightly, giving one of the demon dogs a few head pats for their good work. “what exactly do you think of gojo?”

megumi hums.

“i agree with most of what you said actually,” he answers honestly, causing you to chuckle in amusement. the teenager tilts his head and finally looks at you. “but i also think he’s kind when he wants to be.”

his frontward honesty surprises you once more. this kid sure is something. you believe his words; he has no reason to lie to you, especially about gojo of all things. still, you poke at him teasingly, “really now?”

you don’t really expect him to answer, but then megumi says in a mumble so quiet that you nearly miss it.

“well, he did sort of raise me after all.”

“i just don’t think he likes me, shoko,” you puff out a sigh, watching as she puffs out smoke. “i’ve seen the way he is around other people, and he’s not like that with me.”

she’s on break right now, so you thought you could talk to her about a certain blindfolded sorcerer who’s been plaguing your thoughts.

it’s interesting to hear about the different sides of gojo satoru from your peers. from nanami, you’ve learned that he’s pretentious and troublesome. from megumi, that he can be caring in his own way. and shoko?

“he’s crazy.” the doctor waves her cigarette at you with a shrug of her shoulders. “but it beats me on why he doesn’t particularly like you.”

you groan, slouching in one of the chairs set up in the infirmary. “maybe i should’ve stayed in kyoto,” you mumble. it’s more of a joke than anything; your.. weird terms with gojo isn’t enough to actually deter you.

but shoko puts the cigarette back to her lips and tilts her head. “want me to ask him about it?”

you straighten your posture abruptly and look at her. “what? you don’t have to. he might think i asked you to or something.”

she shrugs again. “your call.”

your brows furrow. “maybe we just got off on the wrong foot somehow. even though all i did was shake his hand.” you snort. “maybe i can get him something to break the ice. what does he like?”

shoko doesn’t even hesitate. “sweets. he likes his sweets.”

oh. oh, okay! you blink and nod. who would’ve thought? the strongest sorcerer in the world likes sweets. “i can handle sweets.”

you, in fact, cannot handle sweets.

why are there so many? you’re at a local bakery staring at the rows and rows of pastries they have on display, looking as if you’re trying the decipher the world’s hardest math problem.

shoko never specified what kind of sweets he liked during your conversation with her a couple days ago. cake? ice cream? cookies? you might as well buy the whole damn store at this point with your luck. the last thing you want is to buy him something he won’t actually eat.

“oh, fuck it,” you mutter and finally decide on a small piece of cake. it happens to be your favorite kind of cake, but oh well. if he doesn’t like it, he doesn’t like it! it’s the thought that matters anyway, right?

as you exit the shop with your newly acquired dessert, you try to devise a way to give it to him. do you just.. hand it to him? or maybe it’ll be better to leave it in his office. or have shoko give it to him!

ughh, who knew how hard it’d be to give a man a cake? okay, okay. you’ll simply give it to him in person since he’ll know it’s directly from you. problem solved.

well, actually, problem is not solved. how are you supposed to give the cake to gojo in person when you have absolutely no clue where he is right now? after returning to the school, he’s no where to be found, so you eventually turn to yaga for help.

“he’s on a mission where??”

you stare at yaga with wide eyes as he names some city so far away you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to find an affordable ride to get you there in a reasonable amount of time.

“oh, alright,” you say, feeling a little disappointed. the cake suddenly feels a little too big and heavy in your hands.

the principal’s gaze flickers down to your little intended treat for his former student. “these kinds of missions are no trouble for satoru. i’m sure he’ll be back soon, so you can leave that in his office.”

you brighten up at that and nod. “thank you, yaga.” you then dismiss yourself with a polite bow after he informs you where gojo’s office is exactly, and you start to make your way there.

it’s only a few minutes until you get there. you open the door and catch sight of a desk. it looks rather plain, which is understandable since it doesn’t seem like he uses this space often. (though, there is a chair that looks more expensive than your entire rent.)

either way, you walk inside and set the container down on the desk with a small sigh. hopefully the gesture is appreciated! if he really does have a sweet tooth like shoko says, you’re not sure why he’d turn it down. again, you can only hope.

you sigh again and turn to leave when the sound of the door creaking open sounds again. you freeze in place when it swings out fully, revealing the very man you were thinking about.

(yaga was not kidding when he said that gojo finishes his missions pretty fast.)

gojo perks up at the sight of you in his office, and even with his blindfold on, you can tell he’s got a surprised look on his face. “can i help you.. or do you have a reason on why you’re snooping around in my office?” he inquires, walking in.

while not evidently hostile, his appearance and words suddenly have you anxious. “oh, well, i-’’ you want to mentally smack yourself for fumbling over your words. “i’m sorry for intruding. i, uh, just wanted to leave you a little something.”

it’s only then does gojo look past you and makes a small noise. you can’t really decipher it, but you watch as he walks by you to open the small packaging to see the slice of cake meant for him.

and when he makes a small noise again, you can tell it’s one of delight. “you got me.. cake?” he asks, looking to you again questioningly.

“i did,” you clarify with a small nod, summoning a small smile and rubbing the back of your neck a bit sheepishly, “i didn’t know what kind of sweet you would like, so i just ended up choosing my favorite cake. um, i really hope you don’t mind the flavor, but if you don’t you really don’t have to eat it so-”

“kikufuku.”

you stare at him, confused. “what?”

“kikufuku,” satoru reiterates, and it’s his turn to smile. (it nearly catches you off guard because although very small, it’s pretty.) “s’my favorite. or.. one of my favorite sweets. crepes are good too.”

his newfound friendliness has you smiling a bit more evidently, pleased that this interaction is your most pleasant one with him so far in the weeks you’ve been here. “oh, okay,” you chuckle, “noted.”

gojo opens the container and unwraps the plastic fork that had came with it. he takes a bite of the cake and hums in approval. “can see why it’s your favorite. it’s not bad.”

your face lightens up at that. “oh, i’m glad.”

he hums, popping another slice of cake into his mouth. “any particular reason on why you’ve decided to give me cake, if i may ask?”

you falter once more, now nervous in telling that you’re hoping to.. resolve this one-sided tension with you. ultimately, you decide to be straightforward, inhaling deeply and looking at him. (well, his blindfold.)

“well, i’m not an idiot, gojo. you haven’t exactly been.. friendly to me. i’m not trying to win you over or anything, but if we’re going to work together with the first year students, consider this a gift for a truce. or um, a peace offering so we can act somewhat decent with each other.”

the white-haired sorcerer falls silent at your confrontation. you’re half expecting him to brush you off and walk out of the room entirely. especially since he seems to have stiffen up (similarly to the way when you first met, you had noticed).

he seems to contemplate for a bit. you don’t know where he’s looking at; the floor, the cake in his hands, you? it’s suddenly nerve-wracking.

“you’re right,” he finally speaks up, “i.. i’m sorry for my previous behavior towards you. can we start over?” he places the cake aside and walks back over to you to hold out his hand.

“gojo satoru.”

your eyes flicker to his blindfold to his hand, then back to where his eyes are hidden underneath. the rumored powerful and breaktaking six eyes concealed from your ever so curious sight.

against your better judgment, you repeat your name and take his hand.

“it’s nice to meet you, gojo.”

your new relationship with gojo is steadily becoming better. he’s no longer curt with you, and actually engages in conversations even with no other people around.

though, you can’t help but feel like he’d avoiding looking at you for some reason. which is pretty far off since you can’t technically see where he’s looking, but it’s a hunch you have nonetheless.

but hey, it’s progress, progress that you’re somewhat happy about.

like now, as satoru leans over your shoulder to peer at the clipboard in your hands. you’ve just finished wrapping up a lesson with the soon-to-be second years out on the field.

“ooh, what’s on the agenda for tomorrow, teach?” he pries.

“assistant teach,” you remind him teasingly, going over the contents of the clipboard. “more sparring. oh, and the registration for that new first year.”

“the one from the countryside?” gojo hums.

you nod. “yep. a.. kugasaki nobara. we won’t actually get to meet her, but arrangements for her arrival are getting finalized.”

“oh, boo. s’just more paperwork,” the sorcerer beside you whines, kicking at the grass.

“at least megumi isn’t the only one now,” you point out and finally turn to him.

just as you expected, satoru glances away to look at panda and toge finishing up. you squint at him narrowly but don’t comment on it.

“that’s true. not like that kid cares anyway, but it’ll be good for him,” gojo agrees airily, shoving his hands into his pockets.

you eye him. “hey, gojo?”

“yeah?” his head remains turned to the students. (further proving your point! you feel like you’re collecting evidence here; the gojo satoru cannot look at you in the eye!)

you hesitate. “wanna grab some kikufuku?”

he perks up at that. (like a puppy, really. it almost makes you laugh.) “mm, whatever happened to not trying to win me over with sweets?” he teases.

you laugh at that then, shaking your head in soft denial. “no- that’s not what i-”

“well, you did said kikufuku.." satoru interrupts you with a dramatic sigh and heave of his shoulders, “so how could i ever possibly resist?”

satoru doesn’t dare to look down at you.

“care to join me?”

but you smile up at him cheekily, and he hates the way the sunlight is hitting your features just right. it looks like the color of your eyes is glistening.

you’re just.. lying down on the grass of one of the training fields, admiring the drifting formations of white clouds on the blue canvas that is the sky.

satoru keeps telling himself that shouldn’t be doing this. his first mistake was accepting your cake. allowing himself to get closer to you. but when you look at him like that, he feels like he can do anything. which is odd, becaues really, he can do anything. it goes without saying as his status as the strongest.

but with you, it’s starting to feel a bit different.

when he doesn’t give you an immediate answer, you tilt your head and continue to blink up at him. “you can see the sky even with your blindfold on, right?”

he snorts. “yeah, i can.”

you pat the space on the grass next to you welcomingly, a beckoning that he just can’t resist again. “well, come on and join me,” you persist.

he hesitates, shifting his weight on his legs for a moment. against his better judgement, he joins you. it’s surprisingly comfortable, he finds, as he kicks out his legs and sighs.

it’s a comfortable silence that it’s almost startling. how easy it is just to be around you. (which is the exact reason why he had been avoiding you in the start, in fear of slipping up around you. he still might.)

“you get headaches, right? if you don’t cover your eyes.”

he chuckles at your question. “yeah.” it’s a half truth, half lie. he does get headaches, but for another reason now. you can’t get out of his head. (he’s got a suspicious feeling it’s because the soulmate bond is incomplete. but again, that’s just a theory of his.)

“‘m’sorry. that sucks.” you pout subconscously, still looking up at the sky to admire it.

he scoffs fondly, clapsing his hands over his stomach. “it’s no biggie. you think headaches can take down gojo satoru?”

“hey now, tough guy. they can take down me sometimes.”

(he’d fight off headaches from you if he could.) his heart is thudding against his ribcage, warning him. but he doesn’t heed the warning, and continues to lay down with you on the grass.

it’s a nice feeling. he doesn’t feel like the greatest sorcerer in the world with his colleague. it feels like he’s just satoru, pointing out the different shapes and animals you can spot in the sky with his soulmate.

“hey, that one looks like you!”

“hah?!”

“i’m guessing you and gojo-sensei are getting along now,” megumi bluntly comments.

it catches you off guard slightly, and you can’t help but laugh. (of course he had noticed how the both of you interacted from the beginning.) “oh, uh, yeah.”

and as you watch satoru go down the steps of the stairs to head over to you both whilst waving an arm with much more enthusiam than needed, you can’t help but smile.

“yeah, we are.”

this is a mistake. he shouldn’t be doing this.

but satoru can’t help but be so selfish, selfish in indulging in your looks, in your scarce touches. when you had confronted him with your peace offering as you had so called it, he had given in.

and now he’s spending more time with you. be it after lessons with the students, on random days where you have nothing to do, during weekends when there’s no authorities to bother him—he can’t help it.

was it the bond wanting to be complete? you were still unaware of his true identity, of what he could possibly mean to you, so why does he feel like he needs to be so close? he gets antsy at times when you’re not in his sight. it’s starting to affect him.

the soulmate bond, or lack of it—that has to be the only explanation for it. because he knows that you’re his soulmate, he’s subconsciously drawn to you and your presence. (it’s definitely not because he likes the way you smile, or laugh, or-)

fuck.

after a relatively tough mission, you’re obviously sent to see shoko. you’re not fatally harmed, maybe a scratch here and there. and okay, maybe a gash on your shoulder..

it had been enough to sort of knock you off your feet, but you’re fine. totally. exorcising a semi grade two curse at 1 a.m. in the morning was no biggie at this point.

once she’s finished tending to your wound, she dusts off her hands and places them on her hips. “you’re all set.”

you smile gratefully. “thanks, sho. can always count you to patch me up.”

she snorts. “well, it is my job.”

gojo suddenly appears right next to the table and you yelp, startled by his teleportation. shoko, on the other hand, looks unfazed, as if she’s used to this.

“gojo!” you blink, your voice taking a scolding tone soon after, “geez, you scared me! what’re you still doing awake??”

the blindfolded man falters, looking apologetic. “sorry. heard you got back from your mission.” he sounds worried, but before he can voice his concern, shoko rolls her eyes.

“they’ll be fine,” she says.

gojo’s shoulders finally drop down and he plays off his previous display of concern with a laugh. “ahaha, yeahhh, i knew that,” he scoffs with a wave of his hand, “i can’t bless you two with my presence?”

shoko gives him a displeased look before she turns around to tidy up her tools. you chuckle at her annoyance. “thanks for checking up on me, satoru,” you say sincerely. your eyes go over his appearance; he’s dressed more casually: a pair of dark slacks and shirt that expose his collarbones. not that you’re.. particularly looking.

but his shoulders seem tense again at your words and he hums quietly. (huh, strange. at least he’s not refusing to look at you anymore, you think.)

“well, i say this calls for a little celebration,” satoru suddenly purrs in delight, waving his hands in the air.

“celebration? for me getting kinda beat up?” you blow a raspberry at him, only for him to blow one at you right back. even though you had done it first, you can’t help but giggle at his childish antics.

he grins at that, then shakes his head. “heyy, i heard you beat up a semi grade two curse!” he says, “i think that does call for a celebration, does it not?”

you stare at him, unsure on whether he’s joking or not. wait, how did he even know that? well, maybe he had gone through the mission reports and assignments. still, you’re surprised that he knows. “you can wipe those out in less than a minute, gojo,” you point out with a raised brow, “don’t try and humor me.”

his grin lessens. “well, yeah, s’kinda easy for me, but i think that goes without saying. you’re telling me don’t wanna celebrate an accomplishment of yours?”

you look to shoko who is almost finished with cleaning up. she just shrugs. you look back to satoru and shrug yourself whilst rolling your eyes. “alright, we can celebrate.”

gojo fist bumps the air. and here you are again, giggling at him.

eventually, when he leads you out of the infirmary and to the teachers’ lounge. he digs through one of the fridges and hands you a bottle of what seems to be alcohol.

“i didn’t even know this was allowed here,” you mumble, settling down on what of the high chairs near the counter. you wiggle in your seat to get comfortable as gojo takes the one next to you.

you offer it to him but he shakes his head, nose scrunching up a little. “i don’t drink.”

“wasn’t this your idea?” you blink. “suit yourself, more for me.” you shrug and open the bottle to pour yourself a glass. and another. and another. and then another.

(you don’t know what particularly drives you to keep drinking as you talk with him, but perhaps it’s the way you know that satoru’s eyes are lingering just underneath the blindfold. you can practically feel his stare.)

and gojo watches you gradually drink yourself to being mildly drunk.

“okay, no more for you,” he laughs as he takes the bottle away from you and holding it above your head when you try to reach for it.

“awh, man.” you pout and rest your head on your arms on the table, looking at him the best you can. “you meanie. you got me drunk on purpose. give it back.”

he snickers, amused and endeared by your drunk antics as he pushes the bottle aside. “sorry. you’ll thank me later, pretty.”

pretty. he’s never called you that before. you wanna hear him say it again. (amongst some other things.)

“pretty.. you’re pretty. i bet your eyes are pretty too,” you say into your sleeve, your other hand reaching out to his blindfold, “everyone else says they’re v’ry pretty.”

he leans back to avoid your hand, heart pounding in his chest a little too loud for his liking. he wonders if you can hear it. “sure. i guess they are,” he says softly with a small chuckle.

“i wonder who my soulmate is,” you then mumble out. maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s your incoherent slurring, but you sound.. sad.

before he can dwell on it, you’re slurring out another question that has come to your head.

“d’you have a soulmate?”

satoru’s eyes widen under the blindfold. he knows that you’re drunk. that you’re just saying things. but your hazy eyes stare up at him with a glint that makes his heart lurch.

and you won’t remember a thing in the morning, right?

before he can answer, you’re out like a light.

you wake up in the morning with a splitting headache.

with a groan, you sit up in what seems to be a bed that seems way to be to be your own, legs kicking the sheets that had been draped over you in alarm.

you have no idea where you are, but there’s a glass of water along with some painkillers on the nightstand beside you, which you down gratefully. there’s also the smell of food coming from outside the room.

you can piece two and two together that you’re probably in the home of someone you know.. your brain racks for information of what had happened last night but it’s only causing it to ache even more.

gojo.

you shake your head and make your way to what seems to be the bathroom to tidy yourself up. you notice that your’re still clad in your clothes of last night, so gojo had done the courtesy of tucking you in.

after you’re done, you take a deep breath and head outside.

you navigate your way down the hallway and follow the smell of food. as you turn the corner, you catch the sight of satoru in the kitchen. not that you doubted that the greatest sorcerer could cook, but for some reason, he looks so domestic.

he’s simply wearing sweats and a loose fitting shirt, your back turned to you as he tends to the stove, but the mere sight of it has your heart leaping into your throat. you have a feeling that it’s a sight meant for you, for you to see.

you don’t no how long you stand there, but suddenly a laugh rings through the kitchen from satoru teasingly. “take a picture, sweetheart, it’ll last longer.”

you yelp, embarrassed. (sweetheart? you try not to think about it, but you hate the way it makes your heart leap again. he’s just.. messing with you.) “erm.. sorry. good morning, gojo.” you approach the kitchen and take a seat at the counter.

when he finally turns to you, he’s not wearing his usual black blindfold, but instead what seems to be white bandages. you haven’t seen it on him before, but you don’t comment on it though.

he says good morning back before serving you some food, which you thank him for gratefully. “thank you for the painkillers too. i didn’t do anything embarrassing last night, did i?” you inquire, half jokingly.

you try to remember what had happened last night, but your memories are still a bit hazy. all you can recall is talking with him about things and staring at him. (you’re not going to tell him that though.)

“nah,” he waves off, “just told me your darkest secrets, s'all.”

you straighten up. “what?”

“kidding, kidding!” he snickers.

you groan and drag your plate to you. “i didn’t know you could cook.”

satoru looks mildly offended, emitting a dramatic gasp as he waves the spatula at you in a petulant manner. “hey now, i’m no expert. but i can at least make some sort of breakfast.”

(he totally did not look up a tutorial on how to cook for you. definitely not. but he’s a natural at everything, so at least his naturally gifted skill is in his favor this time.)

“thank you, gojo.” a smile tugs at the edges of your mouth.

“satoru.”

“what?”

“c’mon, you’re literally eating breakfast in my kitchen,” he laughs, sliding a mug of coffee (probably with extra cream and sugar because it’s gojo) towards you across the counter. “satoru’s fine.”

you test the name on your tongue, paying little attention to the way it makes the man before you stiffen up as you grab the coffee. “satoru.. thanks, satoru.” you think you can get used to saying that.

(he does too.)

satoru turns away back to the stove. “you’re welcome.”

“hey satoru, what did you say what you wanted again? i’m thinking bubble tea but i dunno..”

he likes the way his name sounds from you.

“uh, satoru? satoru? helloo, earth to gojo satoru? satoru!”

oh.

fuck, he hadn’t realized he had spaced out. gojo lifts his head in a sudden motion, making a surprised noise. he smiles sheepishly. “what’s up?”

“you feeling alright, satoru?” you tilt your head.

keep saying his name.

“awhh, i’m feeling more than alright, sweetheart.” he shoots you a grin, liking the way your eyes reflect the café lights, giving it a warm hue. “i’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“you seem to be in a good mood lately,” megumi points out. ijichi, in the front see, looks at the two of them through the rear view in silent agreement.

(a lot of people have noticed actually.)

gojo pauses, halfway through unwrapping the plastic of a popsicle. it’s the same one he used to consume during his youth, but his taste really hasn’t changed after all this time. “oh?”

the teenager eyes him narrowly. “yeah.”

gojo merely hums and pops the icy treat into his mouth.

“heh, i guess i am.”

you can hear gojo and shoko’s voices coming from the infirmary, causing you to smile absentmindedly. you didn’t think you’d be enjoying their company this much in the recent months—especially satoru’s.

(strangely, it feels so natural to be around him, you can’t help but wonder if he feels the same. you try to write it off as spending so much time together for a while now, but you can’t lie when you say he doesn’t make the stomach churn with butterflies.)

you turn the corner and announce your presence to the two with a smile and wave. you catch sight of them when they glance over to you, noticing something different.

shoko is wearing her usual white coat with a cigarette in hand, but she’s got her hair tied up in a rare bun to keep any strands from her face.

but that’s not what’s different as your gaze strays to the man next to her, the familiar frame of gojo catching you a bit off guard.

he’s wearing his glasses.

you’ve never seen him wear anything but his blindfold.

how does he look even more breathtaking than without it? you can’t see his eyes still, no—it’s a deep, deep shade of blue that still blocks his gaze from anyone else. but it’s a more casual look, seeing as his hair isn’t being help up and a few strands fall down and you can see his sharp facial features a bit more and-

and then he’s gone.

you audibly make a sound of confusion and hurt, because one moment he’s there and the next he’s no where to be seen. he had vanished without a single world.

he’s fucking avoiding you again; the realization of it makes your throat close up. after all you had been through with satoru.

“what the fuck was that?”

shoko stares at the space gojo had just been standing, just as lost as you.

there’s a distance between the two of you again. it’s painstakingly familiar to when you had first met gojo and he had kept himself strictly professional with you.

and you don’t know why.

it’s back to the cold shoulder from him; you’re seeing him less and less around campus, and those times where you did hang out off duty are practically a thing of the past now.

satoru is going to be the death of you one day, you’re sure of it.

and you and satoru aren’t even.. a thing.

then again, you’re not even sure what you are. you’re friends, yes, that’s much more than clear, but why does it feel so much more intimate than that despite the fact that the two of you have never even done anything?

however.. a part of you knows that you want more. more of those days lying in the grass with him, more of those mornings eating breakfast with him in his home, more of those afternoon café runs, more of everything with satoru.

is that why does it hurts so much now that he’s pushed you away again?

satoru is praying that you’re not in there with shoko as he approaches the infirmary a week later. she had called him over, and though he could’ve easily refused, he found himself obliging anyway.

“hey, what was that the other day?”

shoko is blunt and straight to the point once he arrived, striking him with a petulant and expectant gaze with her tired eyes.

gojo blinks innocently, tilting his head at shoko. “what was what?”

shoko then rolls her eyes. “you know what i’m talking about. what was that. you just- walked out like they we’re going to kill you or something.”

that’s the thing. you just might.

the white-haired man frowns and continues to feign innocence. he’s starting to wonder why he bothered coming here. “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

his avoidance causes shoko to frown as well and she crosses her arms. “you’re doing the same thing that you did with them when they first joined here.”

when he doesn’t say anything, she continues, “avoiding them, pushing them away. i thought you didn’t have any problems with them. at this point, make up your mind because you’re just toying with their feelings and it’s not going to-”

“we’re soulmates,” satoru blurts out.

shoko is cut off, staring at him all wide-eyed for once. “you’re kidding.”

satoru falters. “i’m not. s’why i always wear the blindfold. and that’s why i.. i ran that night. just my glasses was too risky.”

what if he had angled his head the wrong way, what if you saw his eyes, what if you finally realized that you were fated to be together at the whims of the universe? he couldn’t do that to you.

“how long have you-”

“since we first met. i.. i could see it because of six eyes,” he explains, running a hand through his hair. “i don’t know why. i didn’t think i could have another one after-”

the two fall quiet at the mention of suguru, a heavy feeling hanging in the air between them.

“what are you going to do?” shoko asks quietly.

satoru sounds wrecked. “..i don’t know.”

“well.” shoko smushes her cigarette against the surface of the metal table. “you better do something before it’s too late.”

unfortunately, the higher ups have also noticed.

(the push and pull that has been going on between the pride of the gojo clan and a random transferred sorcerer from kyoto. nothing goes unseen by their tight hold on jujutsu society.)

and you are none the wiser when you’re an assigned a mission late so at night, at a secluded edge of tokyo. you would’ve questioned it, but after looking over the details, it seems easy enough since it was a low level curse.

ijichi drops you off near the location and bids you luck. the night is dark, with the shape of the moon only peaking out every now and then due to the clouds to offer minimum light, and then the veil is coming up.

it’s fine though, as you start walking to get this over with. the faster, the better.

what the fuck? the cursed energy here is much stronger than you had anticipated, almost as if it’s suffocating. now uneasy, you continue your search with more caution.

a low growl sounds from somewhere behind you, and you turn on heel to brace yourself in case the curse decides to catch you off guard with an unexpected attack.

your heart drops.

it’s a grade one curse.

something’s not right.

satoru can feel it. he can sense it in the air. something is lingering, a presence that makes even him feel uneasy, and he doesn’t know why. nothing makes him feel uneasy. but it’s a gut feeling, it’s the bond tugging and tugging and-

you.

something’s not right.

and then gojo is teleporting and finding ijichi in record time, giving the poor man a scare. gojo’s voice is on edge and leaves no room for argument as he demands the assistant director where he had driven you minutes prior. the veil still stands, undisturbed.

fuck, fuck, fuck- shoko was right. he should’ve done something before it was too late, because now it might actually be too late as he steps through the veil.

it’s too quiet for his liking, but the lingering silence only lasts for a few heartbeats before he hears you scream.

you’re going to die.

you don’t want to think that, but you’re definitely not going to make it out of this unscathed as you dodge the curse’s scarily accurate attacks, as if it knows where you’re going to move and land.

the curse screeches out something ugly, and you’re too stunned to react in time as one of its malformed limbs swings down with a speed that you can’t comprehend.

your throat cries for help even as the air out of your lungs, but then there’s the sudden brilliant flash of red that blinds your vision.

satoru?

you can’t see and your body aches everywhere while the sounds of the curse fade out. it’s replaced by the sound of someone speaking frantically. it is satoru as he crouches down at you, hands coming to lift you up gently. his infinity is off. “hey, hey it’s me,” he voices, “it’s me, sweetheart.”

satoru, it’s satoru. satoru is here.

you emit a sigh of relief, cloudy vision gradually focusing. you try and focus it on satoru, tracing over his features repeatedly, trying to engrave it into your memory.

“shit. those damn higher ups,” gojo grits his teeth into an angered scowl. the higher ups? were they behind this? you don’t know, but you know that you’ve ever seen him this furious before. “i am going to rip those old geezers apart limb from li-”

“satoru, we need to head back.”

he looks dazed, tufts of snowy hair now hanging a bit loosely over his blindfold compared to when it’s normally pushed upright. he even sounds dazed, the great gojo satoru, when he says, “yeah. yeah, okay.”

he’s holding on to you tight and suddenly everything seems to get blurry for less than a second before you blink. you realize he’s teleported you both not to the school, not to shoko’s infirmary, but to his penthouse.

the interior is at least familiar: white walls, a little messy, a couple of decorations, and—

“my place,” he clarifies, as if he had read your thoughts. he sets you down on his couch, uncaring if you’re staining the color of the cushions. but he doesn’t let go, hands still cradling your form so tight that you don’t know if you’re still shaking or that he is.

“are you okay?” you utter out weakly and scan him for any injuries while clutching at his arms, which is ridiculous because he’s untouchable. but you’re not in the right mind right now, and you have a feeling he isn’t either.

“i should be the one asking you that,” he retorts, and you also have the feeling he’s doing the same thing with you with the help of his six eyes.

“i’m alright,” you try to reassure him with a small shake of your head. it only aids you in wincing, but the pain is the last thing on your mind. especially with him here. “it’s fine.”

“it’s not fine,” he argues, his hold tightening even more on you, if that was even possible. is that a slight tremor in his voice? “you almost died.”

“and why do you care?” it’s not a malicious question from you. it’s more of confusion, of genuine. after all you’ve been through with satoru, you’re not sure where he stands. what he feels.

he seems startled by your question, like he can’t believe you could ask such a thing. “of course i care! why-”

you clench your fists in your lap, eyes tracing over his face repeatedly. “i don’t know what you want anymore from me, satoru! you’re not- you’re not telling me the truth.”

“i didn’t want to hurt you,” he tells you hoarsely. god, you wish you could see what he’s thinking. what’s going on in that head of his.

“you did hurt me.”

gojo trembles. “i know.”

“you seem to know a lot of things.” your voice sounds tired. your hand goes to rest on his chest, where you can faintly feel his heartbeat underneath. (oh, to be the only one who can touch gojo satoru like this.) “what are you hiding from me?”

“i can’t hide anything from you.” he draws a slow intake of breath. he then whispers,

“but how am i supposed to tell you that we’re soulmates?”

your heart skips a beat.

gojo satoru is your soulmate?

astonished, you now stare at him with wide eyes. “why- why didn’t you tell me??” you ask, voice cracking. to think, all this time, your soulmate had been right there, right beside you, right in front of you.

then it all clicks. his off-standish behavior, his reluctant interactions, his avoidance. his blindfold. he didn’t want you to see his eyes.

he’s known all this time somehow—and oh, oh. his six eyes. your lips part in realization as you stare hard, as if you could see his damned eyes beneath the cloth that hides you from the truth.

“i thought that if you knew that we were soulmates, you’d-” satoru shakes his head. “something always happens to the people i love.” he hesitates, “you still have a chance. you can find someone else.”

“what if i don’t want someone else??” you say out softly in protest, gripping the lapels of his uniform.

gojo shakes his head again. despite this, he doesn’t let you go. like he can’t, like he doesn’t want to. “we’re not bonded yet,” he says your name shakily, “please.”

still gripping the collar of his uniform, you tug him closer to you desperately. it’s so clear, so obvious that he wanted this.

“satoru, have you thought about what i wanted?” you breathe out, feeling tears well up in your eyes, “that maybe, there’s a chance that i want to take the risk? that i want to be bonded to you?”

your eyes flicker down to his lips momentarily. “that i want you too?”

satoru’s breath stutters.

“you haven’t seen my eyes.”

you cup satoru’s face in your hands, swiping your thumb under the space where his eye is hidden with a fierce tenderness that makes him listen.

“satoru, i didn’t need to see your eyes to fall in love with you.”

your confession has him stilling.

(all the times he had stiffened up in your presence, he had been falling for you, bit by bit. you know that now.)

his hand comes to cover yours, the one that’s still resting on his cheek, fingers smoothing over your knuckles. and then his hand continues to go up, up, up, and-

he tugs the blindfold up and over his head, revealing his eyes to you at last.

his eyes are gorgeous, a blue that seems to spill into your vision and take over your senses. a blue that you can get lost in, a blue that reminds you of the summer sky, a blue that tethers your soul to his, and you both can feel it.

the bond between you is so electrifying that you nearly forget how to breathe.

and then satoru is surging forward, closer, even closer, until your breath is his and you forget how to breathe for a whole different reason entirely.

he’s kissing you.

he kisses you like you might disappear right before him, his head angling into yours to capture your lips with a force that makes your world spin.

and you return it tenfold, one hand still cradling his face while the other sneaks to dig its fingers into his undercut, and he’s making a noise into your mouth with fervor.

you’re all too aware of his heat against you, the frantic touches he’s now giving into as he draws you closer. the surface of the sofa dissipates into nothingness and then-

suddenly he’s teleporting you both again—or maybe he’s kissing you dizzy. but you realize you’re now in space that’s not overly familiar with you, but you can tell it’s most likely his bedroom based off of the feel of the lush satin sheets underneath you.

less than an hour ago you were fighting for your life, and now you’re fighting for your life on gojo satoru’s bed.

“satoru, s’toru, wait-” you’re gasping for air, for something as he engulfs you with his presence. he’s everywhere all at once, and it feels as if the bond is intensifying everything he’s doing to you.

“nuh uh. think we’ve both waited long enough for this, baby,” he gasps against your lips, like it’s impossible to be separated from you again, “don’t know how much i wanted this, wanted you. drove me crazy.”

his words makes your head all fuzzy. you don’t even know if it’s the bond anymore, or just the way he makes you feel. maybe even both. your lungs feeling like they’re burning, but even then, you manage to get out,

“you have me, ‘toru, you have me.”

“yeah?” when he pulls back, it’s not even a few inches, his nose brushing against yours. his alluring eyes glimmer in the darkness of the room, and you’re almost so mad that you feel like kissing him again because he’s kept them from you for so long.

your hands hook over his neck again. when your fingers run over his undercut again, you can actually feel him shiver, causing you to giggle in delight. “yeah, ‘toru.”

“yeah, pretty,” he sighs out and he’s losing himself in everything that is you once more so willingly. your eyes, your very being, compels him to give you everything, so he does. “y’have me too. all of me.”

his confession rings through your ears before he’s kissing you again, kissing you breathless. it’s a blur on what happens next; feverish touches and passionate symphonies, but one thing’s for sure,

the magnetic glow of his eyes in the dark of that night is something that you’ll never forget.

as your stir amongst the tousled bedsheets, you can feel the warmth of a certain someone creeping over you, like a cozy cat searching for cuddles.

your eyes peer open to meet the blurry sight of the ceiling, along with the sight of messy white hair tickling your chin.

“good morning to you, sweetheart,” a voice says cheekily, followed by cascading kisses down your jawline, prompting you to giggle softly.

you watch sunlight spill over into the bedroom, engulfing the man above you in an angelic glow as he finally pulls back to look down at you.

so maybe you didn’t fall in love at first sight with gojo satoru.

that’s okay.

cause as you stare up into your soulmate’s pretty ceruleans in the morning light, you think you can fall in love with him like this a little more.

BONUS!

“you owe me.”

nanami drags a hand over his face as he digs into his pocket for his wallet. “this is the first and last time i make a bet with you,” he grumbles.

shoko merely smirks. “you have such little faith in gojo.”

“bet or not, can we go back to before they were together?” nanami looks like he’s close to investing in a pair of one of gojo’s glasses that can block any normal person’s vision.

satoru is clinging onto you like a sloth.

“babyyyyy,” your boyfriend whines, resting his chin on your shoulder with his arms wrapped around your torso. you can’t help but giggle, endeared by his clinginess. (he had claimed it was to make up for the way he had acted in the past and for lost time.)

he’s like another part of you now. not that you mind. being his soulmate is everything and more—from the tender touches to the passionate ones, to the talks of everything: to the mundane to the serious. after all, your soul is his, and his soul is yours.

(and then his hands are sneaking off to places they shouldn’t be.)

“‘toru, not here!”

nanami heaves out another sigh as his hand comes to pinch the bridge of his nose. “is it too late to quit being a sorcerer again?”

TAGLIST : @spn-obession , @deepestartisanhumanoidshark , @scarasw1f3 , @kalopsia-flaneur , @90s-belladonna , @peachipeachy , @chrystinaamanda , @kalulakunundrum , @hunnyheavenn , @dekusdante , @dontmindmelove , @cherries-lostgirls , @rv19 , @etherealstarlightqueen

+ a/n: this fic ended up being way no longer than i expected omg.. but thanks to all who asked to be on the taglist !! some didnt work so im sorry about that </3

like this fic? feel free to go ahead and check out my other works here! -> masterlist

[brazilian-girl02]

~ Vlogger!Reader and Future yandere!Batfamily Part: 2 ~

Warning: This is where some yandere stuff shows up.

🦇 It was another normal day at Wayne Manor. Tim was walking to the kitchen to get one, or maybe the fourth, cup of coffee;

🦇 He arrived in the kitchen and noticed the absence of the butler Alfred, as well as an old notebook on top of the kitchen island. curious, he turns on the notebook and an email addressed to Alfred appears on the screen;

-dear Alf... It's been two years since we've seen each other in person, two years since our last book club meeting and without your wonderful tea. I came here to say that everything is going well with my studies and I am adapting well in (city of your choice). and I continue to post my videos, I know you watch them, but anyway, I hope you come visit me one day. a big hug, {You}

🦇 Tim read the email again and again.... "who are {you}?" he asked himself as he went to his room. Once there he started going through the files and even found his college's files;

🦇 Tim was so immersed in taking in every piece of information that he didn't notice that someone was at the door watching him;

🦇 it was Bruce... they started talking and Tim asked incessant questions about you, but Bruce had no answer. soon Alfred appears, he accompanies Tim to your old room, with a mournful Bruce behind;

🦇 When they got to their old room, the walls were your favorite color but in a more worn tone and an old computer on the desk. Tim quickly stops the computer to search it;

🦇 while Bruce looked around the room in a daze, how he forgot about you, and soon he started searching the closet and with an Alfred watching;

🦇 At dinner, Tim was very focused on watching his videos, which he discovered by searching the room's computer. Dick asked him what he was watching and Tim started pouring information about you, sparking curiosity in the others, except Alfred;

🦇 Dick started watching all the videos almost religiously and he always comments on all the videos. If you have a public mailbox on your social network, it will certainly send Nightwing merchandise;

🦇Jason, I would read any book you recommended or appear reading in a photo or video... perhaps you noticed that classic books and a box set of Jane Austen's works mysteriously appeared in your apartment;

🦇Tim has scoured every corner of the Internet looking for information about you, from your Amazon account to an old social media account you no longer use. Maybe he hacked your phone and cameras from places you frequent;

🦇 Barbara would be a little like Tim, but in a milder way. if you have a disability of any kind, you can be sure that she would have researched it, perhaps she would have become a little more protective;

🦇 Cass was happy to be able to watch your videos, she even started to have some of her quirks that she sees in the videos. If you practice some dance, she will definitely improve in that dance while dreaming of doing a ballet duet with you;

🦇 Stephanie is so excited to have someone to share trends and memes with. if you are part of a specific fashion style or subculture, she will research everything about it, from the clothes to the political or historical views of it;

🦇 Duke is surprised how the others didn't notice you, he watches your video game reviews and plays them from start to finish. I hope you notice your energy bill dropping suddenly;

🦇 Now there is a very thoughtful Damian, how could you hide from him for so long. he wonders if you would like to paint with him or if you have a pet, he would love to introduce you to his clan of animals;

🦇 Bruce pondered many things. he really loves you, don't get him wrong but his duties as Batman were a property and he wasn't sure how to approach a civilian like you, his beloved daughter. but rest assured that he will protect you... so don't worry that he has researched everything about your friends and girlfriend, after all it is for your safety;

🦇Alfred is pleased, they finally noticed the amazing girl he created and maybe you'll come home;

-Don't worry Young Miss, soon everyone will be paying attention to you like you always dreamed of.

----------------------------------------------------------

This is chapter 2, I hope you all like it. And yes, my Barbara have a wheelchair. kisses

part 1:

[yzzart]

౨ৎ⊹. BOYFRIEND!KENJI HEADCANONS! ── PART TWO.

── content warnings: F!reader, mention of emiko, mina, emi and professor sato, Kenji and you being Emi's parents, ultraman form and first part here!

── word count: 683!

⭑.ᐟ Becoming a warm routine, you and Kenji watched his old matches together, which were recorded by his mother, and it was, devoutly, impossible not to be moved by little Kenji in the presence of his teammates and Emiko's screams of celebration; who offered support and support for his son.

⤷ So, whenever you noticed the momentary change in his posture, caused by the commotion and emotion that was moving in his chest, leaving him vulnerable, you would rest your head on his shoulder and wrap one of your hands around his arm, signaling that you would always be there. supporting, loving and respecting him.

⭑.ᐟ Kenji, at every moment, in fact, always looked at your lips while you spoke, explained or even hummed something; it was automatic, he didn't know how to control it or moderate himself about it. — And he didn't even hide it, casually, he had given up trying to hide the action. — Well, it's not his fault if your mouth is so irresistible.

⤷ Yes, every time you opened your mouth, telling him how your day was or scolding him for getting hurt during a battle, there were Sato's eyes traveling over your lips.

"Emi's reflexes are improving, and Mina will examine her once more." — You said, correcting your posture on the sofa to admire the baby, who was playing with Mina, and finding it adorable. — "Oh! And she's learning another dance, you've got to see it." — Turning your head towards Kenji, you find his eyes, completely, immobilized on one part of your face, specifically, on the region of your lips. — "Ken? Can you hear me?" — No answer. — "Kenji?"

⭑.ᐟ During the beginning of your relationship, Kenji occasionally referred to you as his wife; he simply loved calling you that. — Because he felt, in his heart, that, in the future, it would be true and, in fact, official; he believed it. — Soon, it had become something so natural and special, also, very deep.

⤷ There were times, and some press conferences and magazine articles, when Sato mentioned you as his wife and didn't worry about questions from journalists. — Mainly, in his interview with Ami, when asked who he attributed his important change to.

"I wouldn't be here without my family, simple as that." — He explained, with an air of confidence and determination, focusing on his words. — "My dad, mom, wife…"

⭑.ᐟ Furthermore, Kenji refers to you as the mother — temporary, or also the second mother — of Emi; and Mina reinforced the insinuation, showing photos and videos of you to the baby, just like she did with Ken's. —Usually, when she didn't obey his orders or refused to learn something new, like a child, Kenji would declare that you wouldn't like to know about her stubbornness.

"Listen here, young lady!" — In the form of Ultraman, lurking and trying to reach the baby lizard, which was running and having fun around the base, Kenji didn't like the current situation. — "If your mother knows you don't want to take a shower, she won't be happy with you. — The robotic voice exclaimed from the place. — "And not even with me."

⭑.ᐟ You know that scene where he, in his Ultraman form, is sleeping with Emi and his father? This keeps happening between you! — Due to tiredness, exhaustion from the care you are taking with her, you and Kenji fall asleep with the big baby. — With Ken around, holding and protecting you from everything.

⭑.ᐟ When he woke up, with his clothes wrinkled and his hair completely messy and unruly, accompanied by the mug "I hate mornings", Sato found you and Mina watching Emi, who was sleeping peacefully. — After hours of singing an old and graceful lullaby, your voice had captivated the child. — He was still dazzled, but not surprised, by this situation.

"So, she fell for your charms?" — His morning voice, so hoarse and pleasant, compromising with good humor, even if a little exhausted. — "Huh?" — Arriving from behind, he rested his head on your shoulder, fitting in, as usual.

"Oh, yeah." — You answered, with conviction and grace, moving your hands to his messy hair, stroking it.— "Just like you one day fell!"

[moonreader1010]

Pac- how you'll meet your future spouse and some details about them.

Note- minors dni as this reading is very suggestive.

(the pictures used do not belong to me. All rights go to the original owner.)

Pile 1. Pile 2.

Pile 3^

Pile 1: "I'm thinking 'bout you (Ooh no, no, no)

I've been thinking 'bout you (You know, know, know)

I've been thinking 'bout you

Do you think about me still? Do ya, do ya?"

So much water and earth energy omg. You might meet your future spouse in the months of November, July or February. Okay so You might meet your future spouse in a setting that combines both professional and personal growth. Like it will be a setting that combines these two worlds. Office party or something yk. Also I'm really getting that your future spouse will be someone who is really emotionally intuitive and sensitive, could be younger or just youthful in spirit. Despite this young energy they will be very confident, authoritative, and passionate. So yeah you fs might catwalk into your life through a work or financial environment. I also feel that there will be prominent themes of diligence and effort when you meet them. And omggggg your family is gonna LOVE your future spouse. Lol. Your relationship with your future spouse will be very joyful and yk they will feel so fulfilled when they get into a relationship with you. They'll definitely care for you. Very very caring. Alsoooooo this relationship will definitely DEFINITELY align with your ideals and your standards. However, past heartaches or challenges may need to be addressed. Don't let them come between your relationship with your future spouse and listen listennnn it's essential to take time for rest and introspection to heal and prepare for this significant connection because it will be soooooo amazing for you.

Additionally you may encounter this person during a period of personal growth and self-improvement, possibly when you are focused on building your career or finances(get that money bby). They will also be someone who balances practicality with a deep emotional connection. You get me? Like they might seem like someone who is solely focused on practical things but boom suddenly they will surprise you with their emotional maturity. And girllllllll that person is gonna support your aspirations!!!!!!!! Also, they will definitely share your visions. You two will have very similar goals.

Additional- late night drives, play fight, water bodies

Song for you- thinkin about you by Frank Ocean

Pile 2: "They say I'm too young to love you

They say I'm too dumb to see

They judge me like a picture book

By the colors, like they forgot to read

I think we're like fire and water

I think we're like the wind and sea

You're burnin' up, I'm coolin' down

You're up, I'm down"

Okay so the cards kept going EVERYWHERE! Anyway, Meeting your future spouse could be a chaotic journey. It will require you to be courageous and putting on the big boy/girl pants. Your connection is so soooo intense and to understand it you'll require great emotional depth. Andddddddd your fs is soooo Charming? Like for what? Lol. Very charming. Very romantic and dudeeeeee the passion in your relationship will be just chef's kiss. Mwah fr. And passionate in many ways(👀 if you know what I mean). Literally everything your spouse does reflects soooo sooooo much passion. They could very much be physically strong yk. Great physical strength for sure. and wow such a dynamic presence. They could be a water sign or have their moon in 8th house. They will definitely have a really strong sense of intuition so yeah nobody can deceive them. Your future spouse is a legit human lie director. Haha. And your future spouse has this aura around them. Like this air of mystery and they will be so wise!!!!. Andddddddd Your relationship will be marked by a balance of power and mutual respect. Your future spouse will respect you so muchhhh. Such a gentleman. I'm sooooo sure that BOTH of you possess high charismatic energy. Awwwwww. Your connection will be so nurturing, abundant, and full of hope and inspiration. You'll be their muse 😤

Omg girl? you may encounter your future spouse during a time of inner reflection(start journaling bby) or when faced with a difficult decision.and your future spouse will be the one that'll help you find some clarity about that situation. They'll complete you. awwwwww. A very spiritual connection. Heavy themes of inspiration. You two will inspire eachother so much.

Additional- art, Greek, body paint, suits

Song for you - Brooklyn baby by Lana del rey

Pile 3:"Cross my heart, hope to die

To my lover, I'd never lie

He said, "Be true", I swear I'll try

In the end, it's him and I

He's out his head, I'm out my mind

We got that love, the crazy kind

I am his, and he is mine

In the end, it's him and I, him and I"

Very veryyyy clear and straightforward energy. Some of you might meet your future spouse soon or have already met them (👀). And you guys will be sooo quick to know that they are the one. Some of you will get married quickly too. You guys will be so eager to go on your honeymoon lol. Like chill guys. Won't be able to keep your hands off each other. Meeting your future spouse will be an exciting and stimulating (what could that mean👀)experience. And girl your person will be sharp-witted. Like they will have a comeback for EVERYTHING. So sassy omg. But they will also be curious. Like they would be continuously learning something new and will be soooo soooo ready to know everything about you. Obsessed with you. You guys will try a lot of things together (👀). you guys will celebrate a lottttt. Idk why but so sooo many celebrations are there in your relationship. One of you will have an amazing social life. Bby, you may meet your future spouse through social gatherings or community events(interesting). They will be soooooo smart and intellectual. You will LOVE having a conversation with them. Not at all boring. They will make your life more ..... adventurous. One of you(i think you) worries sooooo much and worries all. The. Time. And this other person in the relationship (i think your spouse) will help you deal with it and overcome it.

Additional- bodyguard au, cupcakes, books, anxiety.

Song for you - him&i by halsey and G-Easy

[kiatheinsomniac]

──── 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆! ˊˎ - ☾ ⋆ ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: trying to warm up to writing again so I can get out of this slump. Enjoy some smut of Ghibli pretty boy 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Howl Pendragon x Reader 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3.6k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: MDNI, NSFW content, magic (so dubcon), masturbation, squirting, overstimulation, whimpery Howl

The basket in the crook of your arm begins to weigh heavily as you wander around the market, browsing the stalls now that you’ve got all the ingredients to make meals for the next few days. You enjoy cooking for your little family in the castle and you know well enough that Howl is too prone to skipping meals unless you sit him down and put one in front of him. 

Sweet fragrances fill your nose as you stand before a stall selling flowers, your gaze roaming the vast array of colours and the prices attached to each arrangement.

“We have a buy one get twenty percent off for these arrangements.” The vendor, a woman just shy of turning middle-aged, pipes up as she gestures to the grandest and most expensive row of floral arrangements. You nod with a silent smile to show you’ve heard. You have no intention of spending that much coin today but you do have a little more left over than what you’d expected when you left home today and something colourful would make for a lovely addition to your living space, you think. There’s something inherently romantic and uplifting about flowers and you deeply enjoy making sure they have a presence in your life. 

With romance on the mind, you smile to yourself as your fingertips reach up to your collar where a golden necklace is clasped around your neck. It’s a chain of metallic flowers that doesn’t stray too far from your throat, each flower bearing a little pink gem in the middle with a white glassy bead between each flower upon the necklace’s chain. It’s a gift that Howl surprised you with this morning, giving no other reason for it than wanting to give you a little something. He’s overly dramatic at times and has more trouble than most with facing his fears but he does truly love you and you can tell he’s always trying to find ways to remind you of that without words. 

Your eyes land on an arrangement of pink tulips, white lilies and lilies of the valley. That’ll look lovely on the main table, you decide. 

“Just this one please.” You point to the particular arrangement that’s caught your eye and have your coin purse on hand from within your basket already. The vendor picks up the bouquet and begins wrapping the flowers to make them easier to carry without the arrangement being disrupted. You set the proper amount of money down on the table and your hand plays with your necklace in the meantime.

And as you accept the flowers, you feel a wave of heat bloom in your cheeks. 

“Thank you.” You smile politely at the exchange and set the flowers atop your basket, heading off to return home. But your breath feels shorter and skin feels warmer. Have you over-exerted yourself today? Surely not, you do shops like this in the day all the time. You had a decent breakfast and enough sleep… So why do your clothes feel so uncomfortable against your skin? Dehydrated, perhaps. 

You find a nearby café and pop inside to buy a snack and some water, hoping to improve your current state. But the other customers and their chatter, their indecisiveness and the way they stand too close to you from behind in the queue is all starting to get on your nerves. You buy your snack and drink and find a little seat in a corner to have them in peace. You find yourself eating quickly to try and amend whatever your body is telling you is wrong and find yourself not taking any time to really appreciate the taste of the sweet little pastry. Your water is similarly finished quickly and without thought. Your mood doesn’t improve and the chair is uncomfortable. You squirm in your seat the whole time, unable to find a comfortable position and regretting having come in here and spent any money at all as it’s done nothing to make you feel better. You want to be alone – no, – you want to be home. Home and in Howl’s arms as he takes your mind away from whatever’s ailing you, maybe even uses a bit of his magic to make you feel better. 

You stand up and pluck up your basket from the seat beside you. And then your eyes widen slightly as you feel a sudden wave of slickness in your panties. You cringe as you try to subtly shift your hips and thighs without anyone noticing, praying that whatever’s just leaked from you won’t seep out of your panties. It’s too early to be your period, you assess as you leave the café and make your way home. Discharge, maybe? It could just be wetness but you’re not aroused. Or are you? The thought makes heat bloom across your cheeks as you turn the corner and step into the street that’ll lead you home. You’re frustrated, keep squirming to push your thighs together and make friction, all you want is to be with Howl… but what could have brought this on? 

You find yourself shiver slightly as a cool breeze caresses your exposed chest, a pleasant feeling washing down your spine at feeling such relief on your flushed skin. Oh… you are horny. The realisation only fills your mind with lewd images of what you might coax your lover to do to sate such a feeling and the intensity of it only grows and grows. You continue to silently pray that you won’t leak through your panties but the material is sticky now and feels as though it’s rubbing against your sensitive slit with each awkward step. 

You bite your bottom lip and wince as your hardened nipples poke against the fabric of your bra and all you want is to feel Howl’s hands squeezing them, his warm mouth wrapped around them. You let out a little huff through your nose as you suppress a soft whine at just how incredible that idea seems right now. You finally arrive home and set the basket down on the table. 

“Hi, Calcifer. Are Howl or Markl in?” You ask as you pick up some firewood to feed him. 

“Welcome back. Markl left not that long ago to make some deliveries and Howl said he should be back soon.” Calcifer replies before gnawing on the chopped log you’ve given him. You’re disappointed at the news that Howl isn’t back yet but nod your head in acknowledgement. 

“Alright. You keep up the good work, you’re doing brilliantly as always.” You offer him a kind smile. A little praise goes a long way with Calcifer and you know Howl doesn’t do it often enough. Calcifer gives his thanks and begins mumbling to himself about how you appreciate him at least. 

Your eyes glance to your full basket that needs to be unpacked but you just frown at it and head upstairs to the bedroom that you share with Howl instead. You’re growing increasingly frustrated and you’re sure the flowers will do just fine without water for a little while longer. 

The moment the door closes behind you, you’re stripping off your clothing. It gets thrown to the floor, the end of the bed, wherever. Your panties have a little puddle of slick upon the seat and a sinewy string of arousal sticks between them and your pussy as you step out of them and lay yourself on the cool silk sheets of the bed. They feel like a balm to your heated skin and you let out a soft mewl at how your nipples stiffen in the air, feeling so sensitive and aching for attention. 

Your mind wanders to memories of long, passionate nights shared with Howl in this bed, how much of an attentive lover he is and how he loves to tease just as much as he himself likes to be teased. One hand slides down past your abdomen as you recall the amount of times he’s reverently lapped between your thighs like you were a fountain of youth and not just a woman. Your other hand pinches at your left nipple and a small moan is muffled behind your bitten lip. Why are you even so worked up? You don’t think you’re at a point in your cycle where your hormones would be affecting you like this. All you can think of is how relieving it is to have your fingers rub sticky circles onto your clit that can never amount to how magical Howl’s tongue can feel there. Your fingers dipping into your weeping hole pale in comparison to the sweet stretch of his cock. All you can think of is him, and what you want him to do to you as you moan softly without anxiety that you’ll be overheard as the door is enchanted to be soundproofed. You yourself feel enchanted, like you’re under some spell of-

Your fingers pause completely and your eyes open, the bubble of your fantasy having burst. 

That bastard. 

You were under a spell. A spell he put upon you this morning with a gentle declaration of love and a kiss to your cheek as he clasped your new gift around your neck this morning. You wipe the wetness from your fingers onto your thighs and sit upright, your body subconsciously spreading your legs wider as you do so. You reach back for the clasp of the necklace and end up tracing your hands around the entire chain of it but there’s no clasp to be found. It’s gone. You huff. What an asshole, casting a spell over you to make you horny while you go out and be a dutiful lover, making sure you all eat for the next few days and he has the audacity to not even be here when you return feeling like a cat in heat. 

Without him here to break the spell by removing the necklace from your throat, there’s little else you can do and your throbbing clit is practically weeping for the return of your fingers. Hoping that you can at least quell the heat in your core, if not satiate it, you lay back with a frustrated huff and resume rubbing at the sensitive little pearl. You’re so wet that you can hear the slick sounds as you touch yourself, your head tipped back against the plush pillow beneath your head. It feels good but it’s not good enough. Howl made this mess and now you firmly believe that he should be the one to clean it up; with his slender fingers, that talented mouth, his pretty co- 

“Well, isn’t this a most welcome sight to return home to?~” A familiar voice teasingly muses from the doorway. 

You’re startled for a moment as you instinctively try to cover yourself up before you take a moment to realise who it is that’s closing the door behind him. 

“You.” You hiss as he grins down at you, clearly proud of his handiwork. “This is your fault!” He cocks his head to the side, green jewels swinging at his ears as his lips curl upwards even more. 

“Oh, you were thinking about me? I’m flattered, sweetheart~” 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” You huff in reply as he sets a knee on the bed and his eyes drink in the sight of your flushed skin, everything on display for him as you lay beautifully in the middle of your shared bed like a present just waiting to be opened and played with. 

“Ah… You don’t like the magic I put into your gift?” He asks, his tone playful and you don’t know whether you want to smack or kiss that smug grin right off his pretty face. 

“No.” You reply firmly. His deft fingers glide up your thigh and then curl around it to tug it towards him. He lets out an awed sigh at the sight of your wet slit, your slickness dripping down to the sheets. 

“Oh but look~” He croons, “Your sweet pussy just loves it~” He bites his plush bottom lip as though resisting the urge to just dive right into you like a starved man. “So pretty…” He whispers as he gently gathers up some wetness from your entrance and pushes it up to smear over your sensitive clit. It sends a shot of liquid pleasure straight through your blood and you can’t hold back the little moan that escapes your throat.

“How about this…” He begins to propose as he moves his hand away from your pussy in favour of featherly dancing his fingers between your hips in a way that’s almost ticklish but brings you a teasing sort of pleasure, “You put on a pretty show for me-” He leans in to kiss down the valley of your breasts, warm and sensual, “-and I’ll remove the necklace, deal?” 

You whine quietly, wanting relief right here and right now after the day of desperate need you’ve faced so far. But you know that Howl is a trickster at heart: if you don’t play by his rules then you won’t be in for the prize. 

“Deal.” You concede. Howl makes himself comfortable at the end of the bed between your legs, a hand reaching down to adjust his pants as he takes in the sight of your aching pussy and stiff nipples. You lay back and spread your legs wide apart to make sure that none of his view is obstructed, even if it brings a rush of heat to your cheeks. 

You resume rubbing your throbbing clit, making sure to make quite a spectacle of using your fingers to spread your slit open for him to see just how wet you are from the enchantment he’s put upon you (and from being watched in such an intimate and vulnerable position like this). He’s watching you with enthralled attention as you play with yourself for his bright blue eyes to see. 

You’re oozing slick as you rub yourself in front of him, your pussy practically begging him with this little show to just come and take you already with how desperate and ready you are for him after suffering from the necklace’s enchantment all day until now. As you use one hand to rub sticky circles on your clit, the other comes up to cup your breast, teasing and pinching at your pert nipples for him. 

Alluring moans and whines spill past your lips as you try to tempt him into giving up this bet and fucking you right here and now, convincing him with both sight and sound. Your fingers make an audibly slick noise as you smear your wetness through your slit, feeling it leak down from your needy entrance. 

“Rub faster now.” He murmurs as he bites his lip, hand rubbing at his hardening cock through his pants, the bulge of it becoming ever more obvious. “Come on, pretty girl, beg me to fuck you~” There’s a taunt to his tone. You know he already wants you (this is Howl, after all, the damn can’t ever keep his hands off you) but he’s holding back just to see how far you’ll go for him. 

But you obey his order nonetheless and press down harder on your clit, rubbing faster against it as it throbs beneath your fingertips that flick with need against it. The moans pour past your lips with more frequency now and you feel the beginnings of your orgasm coiling tight in your abdomen, a sensation that leaves you aching for Howl to crawl closer and finish what he started when he clipped that damned chain around your neck this morning. Your lips tremble and the sight of your impending climax makes Howl wet his lips as he undresses himself, taking out his cock to stroke it to the sight of you, pre-cum beading at his pretty pink tip. 

“That’s it, sweetheart. Earn it.” He says lowly and he draws nearer to you. The promise of being filled by the cock that he’s fisting in front of you seems to tip you over that edge and you throw your head back against the pillows with a series of cries for him and the liquid-electric pleasure that bursts through your veins. It’s intense, far more intense than when you usually touch yourself, and you can only chalk it down to the enchantment’s effects on you. 

While your head is still reeling up in the clouds of pleasure, you feel Howl’s weight over you, his hands capturing your wrists as his lips crash onto yours to swallow all of your pretty moans, tongue curling into your mouth. But he pulls away just a few millimetres to hear the little choked noise you let out when he pushes his cock into your fluttering heat, still so sensitive from having cum just seconds ago.

“H-Howl-!” You whimper out his name and look up at him with wide eyes. Usually, he gives you tender breaks between orgasms that are filled with sensual touches and soft kisses, never once has he intentionally taken you while you’re already at the height of your sensitivity like this. 

“Ah, it’s like you’re trying to milk me already…” He hisses between his teeth, not having expected you to feel quite this good compared to his hand. He closes his sapphire eyes for a moment to compose himself before he begins to thrust into you, skin smacking against yours with each deep thrust.

“You said you’d take the necklace off!” You gasp between little panted breaths, fighting how your eyes just want to roll back as your hips twitch and your thighs shake. 

“Mh, I did say that~” He agrees with a quiet whine at how tightly you’re squeezing his cock, his hands still keeping your wrists in place as he holds them on either side of your head. His necklace and earrings swing with each thrust into you, his hips angling so that the head of his cock nudges against your sweet spot over and over. He glances down to find you creaming around him already, your pussy soaked with your heightened arousal. “You feel so good… keep squeezing on me like that, my love~” There’s almost a whimper to his tone as he fucks into you, leaning down over your body to bury his face in your neck and take in your scent as his balls smack against your ass. 

“Howl, c-can’t take m-more…” You brokenly plead with him, head tipped back against the pillows and granting his warm mouth perfect access to your neck for him to cover it in kisses and little bites. 

“Oh, yes you can~” He replies and you can feel the smile upon his lips as he says so. 

“You’re gonna let yourself feel so good~” He pushes one of your thighs up with a hand under your knee so that he can thrust deeper into you, making sure to keep his hips angled to hit all of your sweet spots and grinding against you a little each time he bottoms out so that your clit rubs against his pelvis, “And you’re gonna squirt all over my cock~” He murmurs by your ear and catches the lobe between his teeth. 

His words strike just as deeply as his cock does into you and you find yourself clenching around him, making him whimper as his breath fans against the shell of your ear. He speeds up just enough to have you wrapping your legs around his tapered waist, holding him close so that there’s no chance of him trying to pull away at the last minute, something you wouldn’t put past him. 

You moan desperately beneath him as you feel yet another climax approaching, the muscles in your abdomen going taut as you clench on him. Howl’s grip on your wrist and leg tighten as he moans praises into your ear mere moments before you squirt on his cock, making a mess of it. And he continues thrusting into you to ride you through it. 

“That’s it, pretty girl, that’s it~” He lets out a shaky breath, his voice whiny in your ear, “Cum on my cock, make it yours, sweetheart~” And it’s just as you’re about to cry out that now it’s really too much that Howl hits his own end too, pulling out to rapidly stroke his cock and watch his cum paint ribbons over your pretty, used pussy. 

Your mind and body are reeling so much from all the pleasure that you don’t even notice that the chain around your throat is being removed until you hear its little links clink together as it’s set down on the bedside. Howl collapses onto the bed beside you and pulls you into his arms, pushing your hair away from your face so that he can pepper your forehead and cheeks in kisses before finally softly pecking your lips. 

“Easy, darling, easy…” He whispers soothingly as he cups your cheek and strokes it with his thumb, “Would you like some water?” He offers softly, knowing that all of this was orchestrated to be very intense for you and you’re deserving of aftercare that’s just as intense. 

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*

The next morning, Howl wakes with a smile on his lips to find you in his arms, hair tousled from yesterday’s activities and sleep. You’re warm and still naked against him, the skin-on-skin contact making him just want to melt into you. 

He lets out a quiet groan, however, at an ache in his loins when he realises he’s erect. His hand runs down his pale belly to wrap around his cock, only for him to let out a muffled whimper when he finds himself much more sensitive than usual. 

Your eyes crack open as you giggle cheekily, revealing that you haven’t been asleep at all. The wizard’s other hand rises up to his neck to find that the necklace has now been clipped around his throat instead. 

“Oh, you minx…” 

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