#back at it again with the yuri content

[geofractal]

たむちゃん7周年おめでとう✡️🎊✨

Happy 7th anniversary Tamu-chan

[charrfie]

Reminder that I'm allowed to gatekeep alien 9 if I want to

[celuere]

Hii Alba! I've been reading your works, and they're all amazing! ❤️

Can I request an Arlecchino x Reader who is Pierro's adopted daughter? Maybe when Arlecchino became a harbinger and reader (they're the same age ofc) was her first (and maybe her only) friend there? And they grew up to become closer and closer? You can decide for the rest hihihi thank you! 🥰

Why Anon ofc, I‘m at your beck and call!!! I actually think that’s such a neat concept of getting to know her, like meeting Arle freshly after crucabenas assassination she is of course not the most extroverted person and it takes some time for her to start to open up to you AAAAAA I‘M SO GONNA GET TO WRITING THIS AND TY FOR YOUR KIND WORDS🫶

The Hearth is now extinguished.

Pairing: Arlecchino x fem!Reader

Context: As Pierro’s adoptive daughter you‘ve known the Knave for quite a few years now and you grew… close to her to say the least… always finding excuses to accompany your father to every possible Harbinger Meeting, to maybe even share the same mission locations together… and a bed on occasions. But little did you know, you sadly weren’t as sneaky as your father taught you to be.

Content: mutual pining, unspoken feelings, doomed yuri (my fav kind), suggestive (mentions of arle and reader being intimate, other than that sfwangst, pre-Fontaine arc, reader has a vision, ANGST.

I really hope I hit the nail on the head with the plot, let me know if you like it anon!<333

A/N: […] stands vor Your name! I‘m not a big fan of using Y/N as it lowkey ruins the sentence for me😭 I‘ve also been working on the second part of the Teased story, expect it to be a long one!

You remember the day just as clear as todays morning sky at which you’ve been staring up at for the past minutes. A soft breeze hit your face, brushing the strands of hair out of your face. You were a little nervous to say the least. You were waiting for somebody. Waiting for her so you can finally confess.

Waiting for her as your mind once again went back to the day you first met…

Blizzards have been raging in Snezhnaya lately as you stood next to the Jester, hands tucked tightly into the warmth of your coat. As Pierro‘s daughter, adoptive daughter to be more specific, you had certain duties. One of them was accompanying your father to appoint the next Fatui Harbinger.

The news about Crucabenas sudden death by the hands of one of her own children reached the Fatui HQ in the capital of the City of eternal winter a good four days ago. A 17 year old girl. Killing a Fatui Harbinger. Seventeen. The same age as you. To be honest you were by no means defenseless, being adopted by the first Fatui Harbinger himself came with a few perks, one of them being trained to perfection in almost every weapon category. It wasn’t uncommon either for your father to send you of to an assassination all by yourself at the ripe of age of 14 and being a Cryo Visionholder ever since your tenth birthday… well let’s just say that most high ranking officials weren’t a match for you. But thinking about even scratching La Signora, who was standing and waiting behind you… or just as much as breathe in the wrong direction of Capitano on your left… it wouldn’t came to you in your wildest dreams

So who exactly was that girl?

You were interrupted in your thoughts as the big wooden doors opened. Revealing a rather… small girl… even with the clacking sounds of heels against the polished marble floors, you could tell that she was around half a head smaller than you.

But her height wasn’t what caught your attention. Nor was it her white hair that‘s illuminated by the moon light shining down on her through the windows of the dome above her head.

Red.

It was the deep crimson x‘s adorning her pitch black eyes that you caught yourself staring at, the words coming out of your father‘s mouth completely drowned out as she strode up to the altar. Her face expressionless, almost cold in fact. Your breath got caught in your throat as she took notice of your staring, a tint of pink starting to form on your cheeks, you shifted slightly behind your father.

She was beautiful… not beautiful like Rosalyn… another kind…

And for the rest of the entirety of the meeting you couldn’t help but study her. Study the pretty earrings grazing her earlobes. How she didn’t even move a single inch once she came to a stop in front of you and Pierro. The soft eyebags underneath her eyes, probably the result of her hard training. But to your disappointment she didn’t even as much as looked into your direction ever since you made eye contact at the very beginning.

Arlecchino. That was the new name bestowed upon her. She inherited the title as Knave along with the House of the Hearth. Quite a lot for a seventeen year old girl, who just wanted to kill the monster that was called „Mother“ at the orphanage. Of course you knew Crucabena. And you knew Clervie, her late daughter. You knew she was a terrible person, someone who didn’t deserve the title „Mother“, how she treated her daughter and the other kids under her care, someone who hopefully is rotting in the depths of hell at this very moment.So you couldn’t help but feel anything else other than utmost sympathy for the girl in front of you.

You wanted… no. You had to befriend her. No questions asked.

So you secretly beamed in excitement when Pierro asked you to show her around Zapolyarny Palace and explain how things are operating from here on now. Stepping forward you revealed your hand from beneath the warmth of your coat and waited for her to take it.

„[…]. It‘s a pleasure to finally meet you.“, you hesitated before a soft smile tucked at the corner of your lips as you waited for her to shake your hand. And to be fair, it took her a few moments. She stared down at your hand for a while, as if she was debating something in her head. Then you finally noticed the movement underneath her coat before she revealed her own hand. And from there on you were mesmerized by her.

Pitch black hands along with dark-grey lines tracing the back of her hand before disappearing beneath her sleeves.

„It is rude to stare.“, to your surprise, her voice was deeper than expected.

„I…“, you quickly cleared your throat before taking her hand into yours, „of course, my sincere apologies…“. Goodness, her hand was soft. And she was even more prettier from this up close.

You heard Signora trying to hide a laugh behind her hand, along with Capitano clearing his throat, probably doing the same.

Insufferable old bags.

But little did you know, this handshake marked the start of an inseparable bond between the two of you. Of course, talking to Arlecchino at the beginning was… dreadful to put it mildly. Short answers. Never laughing. Always monotone in her voice. But you were never a girl who gave up so easily, you were quite the opposite. So you stayed strong, using every excuse under the sun to participate in ever meeting alongside your father, no matter how long it would take as long as you got to sit at the same table as her. Fortunately your efforts weren’t in vain because around four months after Arlecchino got appointed as Harbinger, she started to slowly get more comfortable around you. It started with small things. And I mean SMALL things, such as keeping the seat next to her free for you to sit down, accompanying you to take a walk through the capital city whenever she had a spare hour in her schedule, always staying by your side whenever a bigger event rolled around. She still didn’t talk much but you were satisfied with the progress nonetheless.

And after even more months, you could actually have a conversation with her. Turned out she hates the taste too flavorful foods, preferring more plain meals such as… raw meat on a toast along with some ketchup. It gagged you a little the first time she ordered it at a small restaurant she seemed to frequent, but you kept your mouth shut. She‘s just started to open up to you, making a remark in her taste in foods would only set you back in the progress you‘ve already made with her. You even accepted when she offered you a bite. And it tasted… strange. Not awful but also not exceptionally good either.

„You don’t like it?“, she brought up the the toast to her mouth before taking another bite herself as she studied the expressions on your face.

„It‘s… unique… I still prefer salted bacon on a toast instead…“, you washed down the weird taste with a few gulps of your water. As you did so, Arlecchino bent over the table to you, hand reaching out to your face. Your heart set out multiple beats as the butterflies in your stomach flared up.

What does she think she is doing?!

„Arle what-”, her hand gently touched your hair as she interrupted you while taking her hand back, „There was a spider in your hair.“. The small eight-legged animal crawling over her fingers as something akin to fascination washes over the Harbinger‘s face. This is your first time ever seeing something other than an indifferent facial expression on her.

„Oh…“, you leaned in closer to take a look at it, „are you fond of spiders…? You don’t seem scared to me like most people are…“, you could barely make the black spider out on her cursed hands.

„I had a pet spider when I was six years old. They’re easy to take care of. I like them.“, she set the small thing down on the windowsill next to your table. That statement somehow fit her so well. You couldn’t put your finger on why that was the case, but you were always happy to find out more about her.

By the time her 19th birthday rolled around you already taught her how to to braid the hair she‘s been growing out ever since her appointment as Knave. Your fingers delicately combing through her silky strand as you were sat behind her in front of a mirror. You were 18 at that time.

„It’s been getting in my way a lot lately. But I don’t want to cut it off again. I… like it more this way.“, her own crimson eyes skimming over a report from one of her subordinates as she enjoyed -yes. enjoyed.- your fingers running through her hair. Oddly enough it seemed to calm her down, causing her to lean more into your hands. Of course the sudden movement didn’t go unnoticed by you, but you didn’t comment on it. Knowing her, she would brush it off anyways.

„Good thing that you have me…“, you smiled at her through the mirror before you binded her together and set back. „There. All done. Do you like you it?“, you stood up from the floor to get something from your accessory box.

As you searched for a certain hair clip, Arlecchino looked at herself in the mirror, moving her head to the side to have a look at your handwork. „It‘s… simple. I think it suits me well. Thank you, […].“, her eyes landed on you as you walked back to her, a unique accessory in your hand.

„I‘ve had this clip ever since I was a small girl…“, you sat down next to her, revealing the metal thingy in your hand. At the first look it didn’t even seem like a hair clip. The curled up wings on each side looked more like something that belonged into a museum. „Let me put it in your hair really quick…“, you moved back behind her and took the tail back into your hand.

„You… really don’t have to. I‘m fine with this, I wouldn’t want you to give up something as beautiful as this hair clip for me.“, …what was that feeling stirring up inside her stomach…? It wasn’t quite new to her. She often feels like this whenever she‘s around you but she couldn’t exactly pinpoint it either. To be honest, she feels a lot of things whenever she is with you. Not that she would ever admit that of course. It wasn’t like this with Clervie, it was more… romantic…? Either way it confused her.

„Nonsense. I‘ve never worn this one in my entire life. It will only continue to collect dust here…“, you fixed the clip on her ponytail. „And it suits you way better than me anyways.“, you grabbed a smaller mirror from your bed behind you and held it up so Arlecchino could have a better look at her ponytail in the bigger mirror in front of you. „Much better, isn’t it?“

And from this day on, she wore that specific hair clip you’ve given her. At all times. Everyday. You actually never saw her with anything else keeping her hair together. It was always those metal wings adorning her white-red hair.

Time flew by faster than would’ve liked but over the months, years you grew… closer? That‘s a mild way to put it. There was something unique between the two of you. The way you‘d look at each other. The way Arlecchino would always be the first one to ask you for a dance at a formal event, one hand gently holding onto your waist, the other one cupping your hand as she led the both of your over the dance floor as the orchestra switched to a more… slower song.

The funny thing is… remember how she used to be half a head smaller than you about three years ago? About that… growth spurt seemed to hit her a bit late as you now had to lean your head back into your neck to maintain eye contact with her.

„Isn‘t your neck slowly starting to get stiff…?“, she bit her lower lip, the x‘s in her eyes shimmering from the chandelier light shining down at you two. She wore a tailored black-red suit that night, and you couldn’t help yourself but look her up and down multiple time for the duration of the evening.

„Shut it… your not that much taller than me.“, that was a blatant lie. She could easily rest your chin on top of your head. You both knew that. „My, my… feisty today, aren’t we?“, she let you spin around before pulling you closer to her chest again. In her eyes you were the most beautiful person to ever exist right now. The ballgown complimenting your body perfectly, your hair put up nicely, probably by yourself, which suited your face so well, it actually was hard for her to believe that someone could be so… so incredibly beautiful as you were…

It’s not like she would ever openly admit that.

Of course you noticed her shameless staring on that very same evening. How her eyes landed on your lips multiple times, often not adverting her gaze for a longer period of time. How she licked over her own whenever she took in your dress. You knew she wanted so say something. But you didn’t pressure her, it‘s Arlecchino after all.

You also remember how she pressed you up against the door of your sleeping chambers later that night. Left hand slipping underneath your dress as the other one undid your hair. Tongues intertwined while the hand that’s been sneaking up underneath your skirt grabbed onto your ass like you were hers to take. Hers to touch. Hers to kiss. She didn’t even let you break up your kiss when your mixed saliva was dripping out of the corner of your lips. She kissed you like it‘s all she ever yearned for. As if your lips might be the cure to the curse flowing through the blood in her veins.

But even after that night, neither of you dared to speak up on the feelings you had for each other. You just continued sharing a bed from time to time. Whispering sweet nothings into your ear as she made whine her name out in ecstasy. Her kisses tasting after something forbidden. Something addictive, it was getting unbearable for you to keep your mind at bay whenever she was near you in public. How your father didn’t notice it, you had no idea. But it was better this way.

The problem wasn’t Arlecchino‘s gender but rather her occupation. A Harbinger was strictly off of the table for you. That rule applied to every member of the Fatui. You didn’t even want to imagine how he would react.

But you weren’t surprised as Pierro was now standing before you. Not the woman, you‘ve been waiting for. His glare stirred up your anxiety, causing you to start fidgeting with your fingers.

„I… I can ex-", you immediately shut your mouth as your father raised his hand to silence you.

„That‘s enough. I thought I taught you better than this. The Knave? You are smarter than this, […]. I raised you to be smarter than this. I have observed the situation long enough to tell that you two have gotten emotionally attached to each other. Especially you.“, he put his hands behind back, shaking his head.

Silence. The wind now suddenly gone. It was quiet. Too quiet, in fact. Something was about to happen and you hated this knowledge. Hated how it made your stomach sink. Hated how it made your legs heavy.

„Arlecchino will be transferred back to her homeland, Fontaine, to get a hold of the Hydro Gnosis. She is probably already on her way there. For the complete duration of her stay, you are strictly prohibited to even set foot at Fontaine‘s Borders. I’ve already put you on the blacklist for operations regarding the Nation of Justice. I think, I don’t have to explain to you that letters are off the table, too?“, a punch to your stomach would’ve hurt less than this. Hollow. That would explain best whatever you felt at this very moment. You didn’t even had the chance to tell her your feelings. That you never want to be apart from her again. That you want to grow old with her, no matter what.

„Too shocked to answer, I see…“, he put his hand onto your back. Guiding you back to the city, ignoring the tears starting to taint your pretty face. You hated him in that very moment. Hated Hated. Hated. Hated. Hated. Hated. Hated. Hated.

Hated.

„While we are at it, the son of one of Pantalone’s most successful business partners recently asked me about you. A nice man, indeed. Intelligent, promis-”

„No.“, you halted in your tracks. It took every fiber in your body to not smash something in his face. You were seething with anger. And he only added more fuel to it on purpose.

„Hm… too bad, daughter. Let me know once you changed your mind.“.

As you trotted back to HQ you were a shell of yourself. The letter you prepared for her in advance along with a ring was burning a hole through your pocket.

——————————————————

Some angst for the soul. I‘m sorry I just saw the opportunity right in front of me and took it guys, please don’t bother sending in your therapy bills🙏🏼 anon I hope you liked this one and let me know your thoughts on this!

[mochinomnoms]

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Congrats on 1k followers Mochi (っ˘з(˘⌣˘ ) ♡ you so so so so deserve it. You always make me smile when I see your posts so I hope you have fun writing them.

If I might make a request, could I have Jade, Trey, and Ace with a romantic prompt 16 (“I won't lose you again.”)? I want to see them cry a lot just a tiny bit. Feel free to let the vibes guide you, I trust it will be very good.

-Yuri

jade leech, trey clover, ace trappola (separate) x gn!reader [tags] — angst in Ace's, hurt in Trey's, humor in Jade, implied time loop theory [wc} - 1,000+ each prompt 16: “I won't lose you again.” song: Be, Talk (Hozier, “Wasteland, Baby!”), Francesca (Hozier, “Unreal Unearth”) note - @yuri-is-online got it! went a lil wild cause I got massive inspo lmao. Also, let me know if yall can guess the anime I got inspired from with Ace's francesca (1k event)

“Be like the love that discovered the sin (Lover, be good to me) / That freed the first man and will do so again / And, lover, be good to me (Lover, be good to me)”

There were several things that caught Jade Leech’s attention during his life, but only a few kept his attention, after which he’d abandon his ‘toy’. Fungi, mountains, and poisonous flowers, were exceptions, to name a few. He had to admit to himself (and only himself) that there was one thing that revolved in his mind all this time later, dug deep into his brain like the mycelium of his beloved mushrooms in the forest floor. 

One. Thing. You. The funny little human from the broken down dorm. The funny little human with not a single ounce of magic in their veins. The cute little human that was captivated by his merform, an entirely foreign concept to them. The sweet little human with the even sweeter crush on him all throughout his second and third years. 

Perhaps it was cruel of him to entertain your affections with no real desire to follow through on them. Actually, scratch that, it was cruel of him to do so. It was just so…interesting to him at the time. He grew alongside his brother and Azul, none of them exactly being the most sought after during their childhood or teens. They were feared, each of them for multiple reasons, not exactly prime boyfriend material, despite some of their attempts to curate a specially crafted facade. 

Yet, you were so bewitched by him, enthralled, beguiled, and dare he say lovesick with him despite all the signs screaming “DANGER! DANGER! DANGER!” So please, forgive him for shamelessly flirting, and finding entertainment in your reactions. 

The dilated pupils as he leaned down to make eye contact. The sharp intakes when he cornered you against a library shelf, nonchalantly reaching for a random book. The shiver down your spine as he would lean over in class to whisper some nonsense in your ear regarding the class. All for the sole purpose to see you blush a pretty color and get flustered. Not for the jump in his heart at the thought of being revered so sweetly, or a potential lover being so good to him. 

It was just a bit of fun. That’s all it was. That’s all it was meant to be, when he finally left for his internship his third year. He paid no mind to the wistful look on your face as he gave his goodbyes, nor the strange creak in his heart at the sight.

Jade Leech was all he’s always been, and all he will ever be: a man that left his toys once they ceased to interest him.

Which is why he loathed that he’s been unable to remove you from his mind. Though, did he really? It wasn’t annoyance or hate, but an aching yearning that resided in his being. Jade spent many months tossing and turning in bed as he dreamt of you: shy smiles, soft eyes, and sweet words. He wanted, he needed to be free from this love-struck feeling, this infatuation. It was dragging him down from his finely constructed pedestal, like a sin striking an angel down from heaven. 

Yet, coming back to campus now, presenting his internship research at the end of the year, Jade found himself strangely content with the concept as he watched you. You’d taken on your role at NRC quite beautifully, and were the object of affection for many admirers, much to his dismay. Currently, you were attending to visitors, directing them to their destinations and helping the fourth years find their old clubs and friends, while he admired from around the corner.  

You were as you’ve always been, sweet, cute, and clueless to your surroundings as he stalked closer until he was behind you, leaning down until his lips inched close to your ear. 

He purred breathlessly into your ear, “Oh Prefect~ Is that you, my dear?” Jade didn’t miss the shudder that flew up your spine as you jumped away in shock. 

“EEP! W-what the—” You whipped your head around to berate the man before realizing who it was. “Oh, jeez, Jade! You’re back—why’d you do that?!”

The tall man chuckled as he straightened to his normal height. Oh, how he missed you. And your reactions, of course. 

“I simply missed your delightful expressions, you always have been rather reactive with me, haven’t you?”

“What—nooo. I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Huffing, you crossed your arms and jerked your gaze away in irritation. At least, it would be if not for the blush on your cheeks. 

“Fuhuhuh, that blush suggests otherwise.” A giddy feeling filled his chest as Jade inched closer to you, in which you backed away. This continued until he managed to corner you against the stone way of the hallway. 

“This is a familiar sight, is it not?” Jade cooed as he leaned down again, a hand reaching to caress your cheek. “I did miss you, didn’t you—”

A smack. Jade blinked in surprise as his hand was thrown back by your own. Now you looked more annoyed than flustered. 

“I’m sure you did.” You hissed sarcastically, narrowing your gaze at him. “Ha! Please, more like missed messing with me. If you really missed me, you’d’ve called or messaged me like the others in our class. Even Azul checked up on me!”

Jade…hadn’t been aware of that. He’s been too into his own head, reliving memories with you that it hadn’t occurred to him that you’d actually might lose affection for him. 

The thought made him a little sick. 

He pouted, taking your chin in his hand to tilt your head up to his. “Is that so? Please forgive me for my most egregious sin. I don’t wish to lose you again.”

“Hmph, again?” You made a sound of offense. Despite your words, you still looked up at Jade with a  shy gaze, eyes darting down to his lips every so often. 

You never had me in the first place.” You scoffed, trying to avert your blushing gaze, though he kept a firm grip, moving to squeeze your cheeks into a pucker.  

Jade chuckled, “Your previous actions say otherwise, though I am quite a fool for not taking what was mine in the first place.”

“Y-yours?! You-you-you can’t just say things like that—eep!” You let you a deliciously cute squeak, which he swallowed up as he stole a kiss. 

“Now, now my little lover, be good to me and let me revel in your affections, I’ve derived myself from them for far too long now, have I not?”

And I'd be the immediate forgiveness in Eurydice / Imagine being loved by me / I won't deny I've got in my mind now (Hey, yeah) / All the things I would do

He wasn’t sure why he had any faith in Crowley to get you back home. Really, that’s on him for thinking the headmage would put any work into your return home. If Trey had known that you’d still be here in Twisted Wonderland, years after his graduation, he wouldn’t have ever broken up with you. 

Granted, it hadn’t exactly been his choice in the first place, as you had abruptly ended the relationship towards the end of his fourth year. Told him to enjoy his life without you weighing him down, despite his insistence that you’d do no such thing. 

Trey finally relented when you told him that you had a world, a family, a home (without him) to get to. Somewhere you belonged, somewhere that wasn’t with him. 

It hurt, yes, knowing that you were never really meant to be with him in the first place. It was simply by magical chance that you were plucked from your world to turn his own upside down. Likewise, it was simply by chance that you and him got together to steal and eat his heart, leaving him almost an empty shell of himself. 

So it was a surprise to see you at Riddle’s wedding, of all places, dressed up in a pretty green outfit as you giggled with some bridesmaids. Seven, you looked good, the fabric hugging all the right spots. Maybe he was being a bit delusional, but Trey swears that the green of your outfit matched the color of his hair, and he had a small possessive streak pass through him at the thought. If it wasn’t for Cater pinching his arm, Trey would be sure that he was in a dream. 

“Ow! Cater!” Trey hissed, rubbing his arm as the strawberry-blonde smirked at him. Cater’s hair was longer now, but he kept his signature style from school still. 

“Go on, talk to them.” Cater nudged him with his elbow, gesturing to you. “I know you want too~”

Trey huffed, watching the liquid in his cup as he swirled his punch. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“Oh, come on!” Cater whined, latching on to Trey’s arm. 

“We didn’t end on good terms.”

Cater countered, “You didn’t end on bad ones either.”

“Hmph.” Trey clicked his tongue, eyeing you from the corner of his eye. Your hair had grown longer, and was dyed. It looked nice on you.

Still leaning against Trey, Cater pouted before a mischievous look passed over his face as he leaned in to whisper in Trey’s ear. 

“Besides, I heard they’ve stayed single since being with you.”

“…” A sigh. “Really?”

“Totes, so you really ought to go make a move before that blonde dude does, though it doesn’t look like he’s having much luck.”

Finally deciding to look up, Trey noticed your uncomfortable expression as the guy twirled a strand of your hair with his fingers. Despite being known for being rather mild-mannered, a handful of your mutual friends knew the truth: Trey had a nasty jealous streak where you were concerned. 

He wasn’t sure when or how he got across the room, but Trey was suddenly hovering over you and the blond man, hazel eyes piercing his back. Surprise flitted your features as a hand was offered to you, along with a familiar. 

“Sorry, hope I’m not interrupting.” Trey had to withhold a smug smirk as he saw your eyes light up at the sight of him. “But would you mind sharing a dance?”

You eagerly nodded, taking his hand and mumbling a half-hearted apology to the other man as Trey guided you to the dance floor, filled with couples sharing a dance to the latest love song. 

His hands rested on the familiar curve of your waist as your arms wrapped around his neck, hesitating before finally settling your hands on the back of his neck. The two of you swayed to the music, a surprisingly comfortable silence between you two. Honestly? It was as if you two never broke up, with how your bodies curled into each other, heart-to-heart.

Yet, neither one of you seems willing to start the conversation he was begging to have.

“… You look beautiful—”

“You look wonderful—” 

Both of you opened your mouths at the same time, interrupting each other before sharing a giggle.

“Sorry, sorry. You go first.”

Trey shook his head. “No, go ahead.”

You smiled, something soft and a bit sad, before looking him up and down. “You look good, got stockier. The bakery’s got you working hard, hm?”

“Ha, yeah. It has, what…about you?”

Your lips thinned, as you looked away. “Still at NRC with Grim, we teach the new Beast-tamer curriculum. It’s…fun.”

Silence fell over you two again, the elephant in the room hanging between you two.

“You’ve been here, all this time, then?”

You nodded, a sliver of shame passing over your features. 

“He never did find me a way home after we…you know…”

Trey sharply inhaled, tightening his grip and rubbing soothing circles as he nodded. “Yeah…why didn’t you…tell me. Why didn’t you come back?” He left out the ‘to me.’

You stopped dancing, making him stumble slightly as he watched your face intently, heart aching at the tears growing in your eyes. 

 “I—” Trey watched as you swallowed a lump in your throat, voice shaky. “—I felt so bad that you’d spent your time and energy on being with me when I might not even stay, so I wanted you to go off and live life. But then, he never did find me a way back, and I realized that I just pushed you away, and I just couldn’t face you—”

You broke into sobs, burying your face into his chest as Trey led you away from the dance floor. He managed to pull you into a secluded hallway, one for the staff to enter in and out of the kitchen. Trey held you close as he rubbed your back, resting his cheek on the top of your head as you rested into the crook of his neck.

“I-I'm sorry… I shouldn't be…” You were sniffling, letting out little hiccups as you spoke. “—crying like this… I'm not trying to make you… feel bad… I just… I should go…”

As you moved to pull away, Trey tightened his grip, hand reaching up to caress your cheek as you looked up at him with watery eyes. You were as beautiful as the day you left him, tears streaking your makeup and all. 

“Don’t, please, I—” Trey sighed, resting his forehead against yours. “I won’t lose you again. I missed you so much, please, stay?”

You nodded, still sniffling, as you moved to kiss the palm holding your cheek. “I missed you too, but aren’t you mad at me? For not coming back?”

Trey shook his head, smiling softly at you. Whatever anger he had was immediately forgiven at the sight of you before him. He couldn’t care less about the last few years, as long as he had you back in his arms again. 

“As long as I can have you back in my arms, the past is forgiven. As long as…you’ll have me?”

The two of you shared another sweet smile, leaning into each other to press your lips in a soft, fleeting kiss. The type of kiss you give when you can’t tell the difference between a dream and reality. Cater’s quick photo of you two lovers would later help cement that fact that this was reality. 

It’s a week later that Trey has that exact same picture set as his home and lock screen.

I'd tell them, "Put me back in it" (Da-ah, darlin') / I would do it again (Ah-ah, ah-ah) / If I could hold you for a minute (Da-ah, darlin') / I'd go through it again (Ah-ah, ah-ah)

It’s all dark. It’s always dark until the moment Ace opens his eyes and the coffin opens. Ace goes through the orientation ceremony, only to have it interrupted by you stumbling into the Mirror Chamber, an energetic and egotistical Grim demanding to take your spot. 

It’s dark in the cave that he goes into with you two and Deuce to collect the new chandelier magistone. You're screaming, he’s screaming, so are Deuce and Grim. It’s a shit show, even before Riddle comes to drag him and Deuce back to the dorm. 

It’s dark when he makes the trek to your dorm after being collared. Grumbling about just wanting a snack, about Riddle’s unnecessary rage, and about who the hell can remember all 810 rules. It’s light, though, that he sees when you open the door to Ramshackle, the warm, old lightbulbs from the hallway creating a halo around you. 

It’s light again, in the morning as the sun filters through the broken window, you poking him awake to get to class.

Ace has never been one to get sentimental, the idea of love is frightening, to be frank. But looking at you again, light curtaining your features, he was reminded why he did what he did. 

Why he punched Riddle for his outburst and insults to you. 

Why he threw himself into the fight against Leona as he threatened to turn you to sand. 

Why he let himself get “tricked” by Azul again and again, get beaten up by the twins under the sea again and again. Why he tried to run back to school to your rescue, only to be too late again and again. Why he endured the embarrassment of losing the SDC. 

He’d hoped that this time he’d be able to avoid getting into a coma from the S.T.Y.X. Charon robots again, but he had no luck, so you once again had to depend on Rook and Epel getting you through the Isle of Woe. Maybe he should’ve focused on getting Grim back after scratching you, or maybe just prevented him from eating all the blot stones, then you wouldn’t have been in this mess. 

It might have prevented Malleus’s own blot, though Ace wasn’t really sure what led to his spiraling. It was probably a combination of a lot of information, as it was with the rest of the blots. Either way, he’d been hoping that preventing Grim from eating the 8th blot stone would’ve prevented this. 

Ace wouldn’t know though, as he’s been through this year at least 4 times now. Trying to prevent what he’s slowly starting to believe is inevitable.  

He’s replayed your deaths over and over in his brain. The first one that happened, he was upset for losing a friend, but probably would’ve gotten over it. It sounds harsh, but that was the reality of the situation. 

After the second loop, Ace started noticing you more. Things he missed out on the first time. The way you smiled, the way you walked, the way you tugged on your shirt when you were nervous. It was cute. 

It was his third loop that he started noticing little things. How you liked to grab on to his arm when it got too crowded. How you always made an effort to help him in class, despite having to catch up with nearly 2 decades of curriculum just to understand the professors. He noticed how you’d blush whenever he’d make flirty jokes. 

It was his fourth, and current, loop that he really started to view you differently. That he started to view these second, third, and fourth chances as a way to keep you safe. To not lose you again. 

You were always helping him, despite the stress he caused you. Every time you’d let him crash in your dorm, eventually convincing you to let him share at least your room. He’d be up, tossing and turning as he watched your sleep. He wasn’t trying to be creepy, but seeing you take your whole situation in stride, every overblot, every condescending comment, every shenanigan Grim, Deuce, and him really made Ace think about why he was doing this. 

Was it because he felt bad? No, it certainly wasn’t the first time, anyway. Was it because he liked having you around? Kinda, maybe a little. Was it because every time he’d ask you why you got involved with all the drama at school, you’d answer with a shrug, a smile, and simply answer “I gotta protect my friends, as best I can anyway.” That was probably partially the reason.

He thinks the reason he’s so desperate to make sure you stay around is because of the promise you made with him the first loop around: “If I can’t go home, let’s always stick together! I like you, and you like me, so we can support each other every way we can.”

You’d made this promise, in one form or another, every loop.

“Promise we’ll stay friends, even after graduation! I wanna stick by my first friend’s side!”

“Ace? Do you actually promise to take care of me? I know I’m a pain, no magic and all, but I’ve taken care of you in my own way, do you really promise to do the same?”

It was his fourth time watching you live your year in Twisted Wonderland. And it’s then that it clicked for him: he was falling deep into love with the magicless Prefect that cared way too much for others, and much too little for themselves. 

“Ace…” you gasped, a bloodied hand reaching out for him as an overblotted Grim made a rampage throughout the Mirror Chamber. He could hear the others screaming, magic being cast, and a distinct yowl from Grim as Riddle launched another fire spell at him. 

Ace cringed as the giant direbeast that was once his little fiery friend screamed in pain, running around until he tripped and fell through where there was once a wall. Grim let out an eerie, inhuman scream as he fell, a sickening crunch echoing as he landed on the stone ground. For the fourth time, Grim was gone. But that didn’t matter, not when he was watching you die for the fourth time. 

“Hey! Hey, hey, hey I’m here.” Ace had managed to crawl over to you, clasping your hand with his own. He rested your head on his lap as you coughed, red liquid leaving your mouth as you did. 

“No, nononononono—you’re fine!” Ace hyperventilated as he looked over your battered body. He was sure that he had prevented Grim from eating Vil’s blot stone. Was that not the reason he turned into this? Did he only need to eat a few before turning into a monster? He was so confident that he’d managed to keep you safe. So why? Whywhywhywhywhywhywhy—

“Ace.” He froze as you murmured his name, your other hand reaching for his cheek, wiping away the tears he didn’t realize he was leaving. 

“Ace, promise me you’ll stay with me? I don’t want to be alone right now…” you hiccuped as you started crying, curling into his chest as Ace cradled you. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t help! I was so useless, so useless to let Grim get to this point. So useless as a friend, I’m so sorry!”

Ace curled into you, ignoring the voices from behind you two, no doubt the other students coming to the realization that you’d be grievously harmed. 

“I’ll stay with you, I’m always with you.” Ace shuddered. He felt like throwing up. “I’m going to try again, I won’t be too late this time. I’ll make sure to keep you safe this time. I won't lose you again.”

Ace ignored the person shaking his shoulder as he watched you hyperventilate, before your breathing slowed and eventually stopped. He ignored the surprised cries as magic swirled around him, as he activated his signature spell for the fifth, and hopefully final time:

With a flick of the wand, a rhythm sublime,

Reverse The Clock, turn back the chime,

No time to say 'Hello', goodbye!

I'm late, I'm late, I'm late!

It’s all dark. It’s always dark until the moment Ace opens his eyes and the coffin opens for the fifth time.

comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷

[doukeshi-kun]

𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙡𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙙!𝙣𝙞𝙠𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙞 + 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨

contents ✥ fluff, fem!reader, oc kids (yuri, mari, karol)

He can’t keep his eyes off you. 

This humble pastry shop has been his children’s favourite place to visit before they go to school. Their school starts at eight and your shop is already open at seven, selling fresh breads and pastries for kids going to school and adults going to work.

As of now, Nikolai and his three kids are the only customers inside. One of his hands is holding a small basket for his kids to put their selected pastries while his other hand is being held by his youngest son, Karol. Yuri is holding the tongs to grab the pastries his siblings want. 

His eyes are fixated on you who is arranging a fresh batch of Danish raisins on the display table. You look quite focused trying to make sure the pastries are all neatly arranged. He smiles, enjoying the sight. 

“Daddy, they don’t have that big chocolate cake today…” Mari comes waddling to him after she has searched the whole shop for a cake. Nikolai snickers, shaking his head as he pats her head. 

“No big cakes for school, Mari. It’s not suitable. Get something else.” He says as he looks at Yuri who is putting two butter croissants into the basket. 

“But, daddy…” Mari pouts, still adamant about bringing a big cake to school. Karol makes an angry face before he stomps his foot before pointing at his sister in an accusing manner. 

“Daddy says no!” 

“Don’t point your finger at me, smelly!” Mari snarls back. “I want the cake!”

“You can’t bring a big cake to school. It’s not your even birthday.” Yuri tries to reason but Mari shakes her head. 

“No, no. I want chocolate..!”

“Hey, hey, come on now. Don’t fight.” Nikolai says firmly, pushing Karol’s arm down. He is a little confused now. Yuri and Mari are usually the ones who take stuff while Karol just takes whatever that they choose. Yuri only takes the pastries that he always picks and is familiar with. But Mari likes to try new things. If possible, she will choose different pastries every day. And now she wants a chocolate cake which is just not possible and suitable to bring to school. 

“Um, sir?”

Nikolai turns his head, eyes slightly widen at the sight of you standing right behind him with a concerned look on your face. He is blank—does not expect you would talk to him first.

You smile at him. “I notice your… situation here. Can I help?” You ask. Nikolai blinks profusely and nods—maybe a little too fast.

“Uh, of course you can—” He replies and quickly bites his tongue before he can accidentally spurt out a nickname he has already decided on you. You smile again and turn to Mari. 

“What are you looking for, sweetheart?” You ask, crouching in front of the girl and Mari is already happy enough to have someone to help her problem. She tells you that she wants a chocolate cake because she remembered seeing an advertisement for chocolate cake at the front of your shop when she got back from school. You nod. 

“Well, we don’t have chocolate cake at this hour. But, we do have chocolate bread right now.” You say. Mari frowns slightly. 

“Bread and chocolate are different though…”

You shrug your shoulders. “Absolutely. But they do taste nice. It tastes just like a cake but without the cream. Or… if you want some creamy pastry, we have chocolate custard brioche. Both of them are yummy, I promise you.” You say. Mari stares at you, pondering. 

“Hmm… Okay, miss! I believe you. I’ll take the custard one! Where is it, miss?” She asks as she grabs Yuri’s arm, preparing to drag her brother anywhere she goes. You gesture her to the display chiller and Mari grins, beaming in joy. “Okay! Thank you, miss! Now, come with me, Yurochka!” She says as she pulls Yuri there.

You chuckle before you finally get up, looking at Nikolai with a victorious smile. He cackles. “Thanks for that. I was kinda confused about what to do.”

“It’s fine. Kids can be a little weird sometimes.” You say before you look at Karol who is staring hard at you. You even give him a friendly wave but he is eyeing you so suspiciously. Maybe he is being a little weird. 

Trying to ignore his look, you turn to Nikolai. “I always see you and your kids every morning.” You say, trying to open a conversation, which Nikolai is more than glad to dive in. 

“Mm-hm. My kids really love your bakery, you see. Even if I’ve prepared lunchboxes, they always want to stop by.” Well, that is a little lie on Nikolai’s part. Usually, he is the one who stops by even if his kids do not demand it, and he is the one who makes it a routine. 

“Oh, thank you! That is so sweet of you.” You chuckle before you look down at Karol. “Your daddy is such a nice man, so don’t make trouble for him, okay?”

Karol nods, despite his stare. You chuckle—a part of you wonders if Nikolai is a single dad. Usually, you would hear stories about how the wife or the mother is the one who makes lunch boxes. But not for him. Your eyes travel to his hands, finding no sight of any wedding ring on them. 

“Well, I better get to work. Just call me when you are about to pay, okay?” You say to him. Nikolai smiles sweetly and nods. Karol suddenly points at you, just as he did to Mari. 

“Bread lady!”

You chuckle at his call. “Yes?”

“My dad thinks you’re really pretty— Mmh!” His loud mouth is completely covered by Nikolai’s hand as the latter laughs awkwardly. His face is starting to blush as he smiles flusteredly. 

“Kids, hahaha. They’re always so weird.” Nikolai says and he nudges Karol to walk away, trying to leave the spot to avoid the embarrassment. He makes his way to Mari and Yuri hastily, leaving you alone. 

Watching his back, you purse your lips, trying to subdue the same flustered smile as his. 

©doukeshi-kun 2024 — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, more @/cherikolya

if you like my works, consider buy me a ko-fi!

[seeingivy]

high infidelity

satoru gojo x f!reader

do you really wanna know where I was april 29th?

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

content: infidelity (omg who knew), yn is a doctor, satoru gets injured and haha ur still my emergency contact's his way back into your life, megumi and yuuji flirting side quest, a big hot flaming mess of writing this is actually so bad

an: no one say anything to me about this fic actually. or the fact that I made everyone do a poll about which taylor as gojo to write just to not write either of those options and produce a flaming, hot wreck of garbage. anyways, live love high infidelity this song will always be special to me because on april 29th, I was indeed, at the eras tour seeing mother for the first time

--

You swallow hard as the waitress walks up again, with that sheepish, awkward smile on her face. And you dread the unrelenting, embarrassing question that’s going to follow. One that she’s already asked, three times. 

“Are you still waiting for someone or would you like to order?” 

And you’re not sure why, but the fact that she asks the question, in that phrasing, in that tone, is enough to aggravate the very thin patience you already have. Because really, it’s quite possibly the stupidest question she could have asked. 

Clearly, you are still waiting for someone. You’ve been sitting here for the past hour and a half. If you were really intent on eating at this restaurant alone, then you would have ordered the second they seated you. 

And it’s rude, abrasive even. To ask, to relentlessly question, three times. Because obviously, you feel horrible for taking the table, when there’s a line of people patiently waiting by the door. And it’s not your fault that your boyfriend is late. And really, it’s just humiliating, that she keeps throwing it in your face, that you’re sitting here, alone when he should be here making you feel special. 

You sigh, giving her a halfhearted smile. 

“Can I have twenty more minutes? I promise I’ll leave after that and let you give the table to someone else.” 

She smiles, genuine and sweet, as she places her hand on your shoulder and makes a promise to bring some more bread before you leave. 

The premise of it - the fact that she smiled in earnest and must know that you feel horrible, that she has her own deposit of pity for you - has you bringing your fingers up to your forehead and massaging that small, pulsating feeling by your temples. Because here you were, mentally cussing out the poor girl working minimum wage at the restaurant when the real subject of your wrath couldn’t even be bothered to show up. 

And you hate that the negativity, the frustrations of the situation, seem to bleed into everything else. Because you’ll find yourself being upset with Yuri, but then suddenly it turns into a blind agitation to everything. The barista, for not making your coffee right, your co-workers asking to switch shifts so they can go on a trip with their partners, the laundry machine when it stops working. 

Your phone starts incessantly buzzing on the table, the smallest glimmer of hope sparking in your chest at the sound. And instantly dies, when you realize it’s just the Emergency Room calling you. 

You slide open the call, pressing the phone to your ear. 

“This is Tokyo Metropolitan Hospital. Is this a miss Y/N L- wait.” Megumi states into the phone, mumbling off the speaker. 

You press the phone harder to your ear, to try to catch the end of the conversation that Yuuji must be having with Megumi. 

“Y/N. Right, hi!” he states, voice halfheartedly cheery, which is already odd enough for him. 

“Hi Megumi. Why are you calling me on my day off?” you deadpan, that backlogged deposit of irritation coming in hot and fresh for the sweetest resident you have. 

“Right. Um, we have a mister Satoru Gojo in the Emergency Room who has you listed as his Emergency Contact. He’s kind of in bad shape so we were going to call regarding-” 

“Gojo? I’ll be there in ten.” you respond, shoving the phone into your purse and leaving the tip flat on the tablecloth. You give the waitress - standing there with that restocked bread in her hand - a polite wave on the way out and speed as fast as you can to the hospital. 

--

You march into the ER, rubbing warmth into your biceps, to find Megumi at the nurses station, as always, flirting with the pink haired student nurse he’s taken a keen liking to. 

“Hey. Where is he?” you ask, Yuuji and Megumi turning their heads to give you half hearted smiles. It’s only the start of the night shift, but by the way their shoulders are already sagging, you can tell whoever has to deal with them has a long night ahead of them.

“Right sooooo. We can’t decipher any of his paperwork. We need you to read it first and then you can see him. He’s in room eleven.” Yuuji states, giving a peachy smile, as you scan over Gojo’s characteristic illegible handwriting. 

“Jesus. He still writes like a twelve year old.” you murmur, filling out the sheet at the side with all the information Yuuji needed. 

“You’re all dressed up, teach. What’s the occasion?” Megumi asks, lazily leaning his cheek in the palm of his hand. 

“Ah. It’s my one year anniversary with Yuri. We were supposed to go to dinner.” you mumble, scratching the last of the information on the sheet and handing it to Yuuji. 

You feel a hand sling around your shoulder and a distinct smell of smoke, only to find Shoko hanging off your frame. 

“And yet here you are, because he didn’t show up.” she murmurs, earning you a set of wide eyes as you glare at Shoko. Because at their core, Yuuji and Megumi are first, definitely crushing on each other, and second, nosy as hell. 

“And here you are. Destroying every last cell in your lungs, that are eagerly, earnestly begging you to stop.” you deadpan. 

She flicks your nose as you finish filling out the sheet and reading through the paramedics report that was attached to his paperwork.

“Please tell me you attacked Yuri at the dinner table and that’s why you’re here. Fork to the hand? Spoon in the eye? Knife to the dick?” Shoko asks, excitedly. 

“Didn’t you like take an oath? For the preservation of human life?” Megumi deadpans. 

“No. I skipped that day of medical school.” Shoko replies. 

“Gojo’s here, I’m still his emergency contact.” you respond back, giving her a pointed glare. 

“What happened?” 

You turn your head expectantly to Megumi, who obliges. 

“His car got t-boned. He’s pretty roughed up.” Megumi responds. 

You give Shoko a weary look, as you march to the other side of the unit, preparing yourself for whatever roughed up version of Gojo you were about to be greeted with. Because every interaction with Gojo was a rush of emotions - good, bad, sweet, and ugly - but this might be the biggest thing you’ve ever had to stomach yet. 

“So. Who is this Satoru guy? I’ve never heard of him before.” Megumi asks Shoko, giving Yuuji an all knowing glance. 

“Her ex-boyfriend.” Shoko responds. 

“No way. Before that asshat Yuri?” Yuuji asks, suddenly too invested in the story all together. 

“Well, obviously. He taught as a professor at the same medical school she attended.” 

“Y/N dated a professor?” Megumi asks, tone incredulous.  

“I mean that’s one way to get through I guess.” Yuuji adds. 

Shoko smacks the top of Yuuji’s head, earning a fit of laughter from the two of them for his stupid comment. 

“You need to focus on your nursing exams instead of flirting with Megumi on your fifteen. It would do you some good to flirt with your preceptor. And no, he was just a fellow doing research at the time. They were best friends for a good few years, had that whole will they won’t they vibe going on.” Shoko responds. 

“So….did they?” Megumi asks. 

“They did. To be honest, I can’t really remember why they broke up. Something stupid.” Shoko shrugs, giving the two of them shoves on the shoulder before walking past the hall, to find you standing in front of the door. Your hand is resting against the handle, but you have yet to yank down and push yourself in. 

“Are you warming up the handle or…?” 

You’re thrown out of your train of thought to find Shoko at your side, hands buried deep in her white coat as she gives you a weary glance. To anyone else, Shoko would seem wildly disinterested, almost annoyed at how you were acting. But you know better and can see that small twinge of concern buried under her long eyelashes, the hint of it in her voice. 

“Oh. Um…no. Just got lost in thought.” you murmur, staring at the faded eleven on the marker. 

“About?” 

You swallow hard, the warm tears filling your eyes. 

“I haven’t talked to him in so long. And the last time we talked we were arguing over…..leaving dishes in the sink. Breaking up. If I walk in there and he’s dead, that’s going to be the last thing I ever said to him.” you whisper, air grating against your throat. 

Shoko puts a hand on your shoulder and squeezes once.. 

“He’s not dead. The monitor tech would have picked up on that.” 

“The monitor tech? Are we talking about the same monitor tech? Because Nobara is too busy flirting with the phlebotomist Maki to ever do her job. They’re worse than Megumi and Yuuji.” 

Shoko scoffs, before rolling her eyes at you. 

“No one is worse than Megumi and Yuuji. Yuuji knocked the entire crash cart over when he clocked in because Megumi complimented his Star Wars themed scrubs.” 

You snort, shaking your head, as you take a deep breath in and push the handle down. Shoko gives you a warm smile as you walk in and flick the lights on, only to see Satoru, sitting up in bed and lazily scrolling through the TV channels. 

He looks over at you first, his eyes going wide, as you walk up to him and cup the side of his cheek. The tears that were welling in your eyes are falling in full flesh, at the sight of him all battered and bruised. 

His snow white hair is matted red, an angry, glaring scratch on his forehead. His arm is littered with tiny cuts, with a good amount of dressing on his torso, the red blood already seeping through and the look on his face so broken and tired that it makes your heart twinge. 

“Satoru.” 

He smiles, albeit a little confused, as he looks up at you and brings his hand up to yours, where it’s resting against your face. 

“Hey princess.” 

You laugh through your sprout of tears, which has the smallest smile turning up on his cut up lips and the soft, faint smile lines appearing near his eyes. 

“You here to patch me up, doc?” he whispers. 

You shake your head incessantly, which has him rolling his eyes. 

“Not today.” 

“Shame. I heard having sex is really good for patient recovery.”

You smack his shoulder, biting hard down on your cheeks that Satoru Gojo, in full flesh, is okay. Because he still has the audacity to flirt with you, even when he’s near death in the hospital. 

“I’m going to look at your chart, okay?” 

You let go of his face and find yourself in front of the computer, logging in with your credentials, and trying to pull up his chart as fast as you can. 

“If I found out you got into this accident because you were trying to find the perfect song before you got home, I’m going to put your head on a stick, Satoru Gojo” you murmur, earning a laugh from him. 

“First and foremost, you always have to close the drive home on a banger. Sue me.” 

“I think I might just.” 

“And contrary to your beliefs, this accident actually wasn’t my fault. They crashed into me, naturally, because I do no wrong. Ever.” he states. 

“Right.” you chuckle. 

You read over the report, making it a point to berate Yuuji for his shitty charting later, as you look through his vital signs and blood cultures that were taken when he arrived here. 

“So do all doctors dress like they’re about to go clubbing or is it just you?” 

You look down, only now noticing that you’re still wearing the a-line dress from the dinner you were supposed to have with Yuri. You make a mental note to shoot him a text after checking with Satoru after, knowing all too well that with how busy Yuri is, you standing him up would throw him over the edge. 

“Just me. I really love to put on a show for my patients, Gojo. And what clubs are you going to where people dress like this?” you mutter, clicking through the scans that were taking. 

“I appreciate the lengths you go to for me. It’s always what I loved about you. And I exclusively attend Taylor Swift night at the Underground” he states, placing his hands on his chest. 

You look over and glare at him, before reading through the treatment plan. When you look over Nanami’s notes, you feel your heart drop and turn over to look at him. At his bright, blue eyes so wide and unaware, the look on his face so…innocent it bothers you. That in a few hours, he’s going to be in unspeakable pain while he recovers. 

The door opens and Nanami and Yuuta are standing at the door, Nanami already scoffing at you. 

“That’s confidential patient information, Dr. L/N.” Nanami states, voice stern. He hands you a jacket, which you pull on, as you hike your hands under your biceps and talk to him. 

“You were going to tell me all of it anyways. So…what’s the plan here?” you grumble, settling next to Gojo at the side of his bed, placing your hands in his nearly pink hair. 

“Well. I’m going to-” 

“The surgical resident has to be Yuuta, I don’t trust that dumbass Todo to do it. You have to use prolene stitches, I don’t want his skin to scar and don’t leave him under for too long. He’s never been one to suit medications well. Don’t play any rap music when you’re operating, he hates that type of stuff and-” 

Nanami puts his hands square on your shoulders, squeezing once. 

“Thank you, Dr. L/N. We’ll talk all details after, okay?” Nanami states, voice soft, as you turn over to look at Gojo. 

Gojo gives you a weak smile, which you return, before pushing his hair off of his forehead, and lightly brushing through the white tresses as he looks at them.

“Give it to me straight, Kento Bento.” Satoru states, earning an eye roll from Nanami who's clearly unamused. But you can tell he doesn’t mind it all too much, because in the monotony of shitty patients, he’s always been one to appreciate the sweet jokesters. And Satoru’s the biggest clown there is. 

“It’s a relatively easy procedure, Satoru. We’re just going to go in and repair the damage that you sustained to your digestive tract from the crash. Do you have any questions for me?” Nanami asks. 

“Can I request that she’s not in there when it happens?” Satoru asks, looking up at you. 

“Hey. I can-” 

“Yes. We’ll make sure of it.” Yuuta responds. 

“Thank you, Yuuta.” Gojo responds, giving him a smile. 

“We’ll be around in an hour to take you to surgery.” Nanami states, ignoring the pointed glare you were giving him as he strolls out of the room. 

You turn to Gojo, the overstimulation of the past ten minutes really hitting you, as you feel your brain short circuit while he’s looking at you. You try to focus on the sensation of his hair in your hand and that pulsating beat that you’ve been feeling for his wrist, but you can’t really process any of it. 

Every high and low you’ve experienced in the past few minutes - the elation in Gojo’s voice, the pain from seeing him suffering, how he’s still the same as you left him- it’s enough to abandon any rational thought processes from occurring in your head. And it leaves you standing there, silently, with your hands on him. 

“Hi Y/N.” 

“Hi ‘Toru.” 

He smiles at the nickname, reaching forward to lace his fingers through yours. 

“I was driving and then…I wasn’t. I looked up and all I could see was the stoplight above me, then the flashing lights of the ambulance, and now…you….looking at me like that. Your brain isn’t the only one hurting right now.” 

“Looking at you ike what?” you murmur. 

“Like you’re in pain, Y/N.” he states, emphasizing his syllables. 

You shake your head, fighting down that wave of worry that’s sitting in your skin. 

“You know, Kento’s a really good doctor. And Yuuta…he’s like the most promising surgical resident. And even then, I-I can get another senior surgeon if you don’t want a student. And-and it really won’t hurt that bad and I’ll make sure they give you all the good meds and-” 

“Y/N.” 

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m rambling. I know you’ve always hated that and I just-” 

“I don’t hate it. Just, slow down for a second…talk me through all this because I really don’t know what’s going on and you know I don’t like not knowing.” 

You pull up the chair, messing with his hands as you talk. 

“You have to get surgery. The impact you had when you crashed led to-” 

“Y/N. I know all of that already. I’m asking about you.” 

You frown, swallowing hard, as you run your fingers along the scratch on his knuckles.

“You never update your current information.” 

“Huh?” 

“You….you never canceled the stupid Hulu subscription when we got the Disney Plus bundle. And you kept having to trek all the way across town to get the mail, because you forgot to change the address when we moved, and you-” 

“I don’t really see how-” 

“You forgot to change your emergency contact, Satoru. After we broke up, you-you forgot to call them and tell them that they shouldn’t call me.” you hum, as Gojo’s hand tightens in it’s hold around yours. 

“Oh shit, Y/N. Sweetheart, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-” 

You lurch up from your chair, tangling your arms around his neck as you crackle his head into your frame, that incessant stream of tears pouring down your eyes as he brings his own arms around yours. 

And it feels too fast, because suddenly Nanami and Yuuta are back at your sides, giving you sympathetic glances as they wheel Gojo away and you’re left standing in the hallway, flat against the wall, every horrible outcome of the next four hours playing through your head. 

--

On hour five, already a bad sign, you’re sitting flat against the floor with a jello cup in your hand and in Megumi’s spare pair of scrubs. They’re both sitting at your sides, the dead quiet of the night shift leaving them with you. 

“Kento likes to be really careful, Y/N. That’s all it is.” Megumi states, giving his best attempts at calm reassurance. 

“And Yuuta’s great. We all love Yuuta, he’s sweet….intelligent. He’s more than capable to do this.” Yuuji adds. 

You crack through every last bone in your finger, the entire interaction playing over in your head. 

“I-I just went in there so fast. And the time was so…so short that I didn’t even say much to him.” you respond, sighing. 

“When’s Yuri coming?”

You turn your head to the side, in confusion, before you register Yuji’s words all together. 

“Why would he-” 

You panic, remembering that you had never texted Yuri back, that he’s probably fuming in his own pit of rage right now at his apartment, cursing your name to god knows what degree. You reach for your phone in your pocket, only to find no notifications from him. You scroll up on the chat, only to find that he hadn’t texted you the entire day, yesterday. 

His last text read April 28th, a reminder that he needed you to pick up his drycleaning for his golf game this weekend. 

“He’s really an asshole, isn’t he?” you spit. 

You see Megumi and Yuuji give each other wide eyed looks over the top of your head, as you click your phone shut and let it fall to the ground. 

Because in the dim lights of this hospital, with Satoru’s blood, some of it still smeared on the side of your hand, you feel like you’re seeing clearly for the first time in years. 

That really, Yuri in actuality, is not the one for you. And it’s not that he’s a bad guy, he’s honorable in some sense really, but what he gives isn’t even a fraction close to what you want. 

He’s tall and lanky. The type of guy to represent every portion of the food triangle in the three meals he ate. He wakes up at five in the morning to go to the gym before an entire day at work, and still somehow finds time to read and run a personal wellness blog when he gets home. 

He’s classy, in every sense of the term. The exact type of man you envision when you think of someone put together, wholly and fully. On top of their shit, living their best life, one that people aspired to. 

And that was in no way what you wanted. 

You wanted Satoru. Satoru who convinces you that there’s still enough room for a little treat after dinner, despite the fact that you both stuffed yourself full at the restaurant. He sleeps in late on the weekends, pressing lazy kisses to your skin to wake you up before entirely botching the whole breakfast in bed thing he was trying to impress you with. 

He was real, in every sense of the term. The type of person you envision when you imagine the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. He’s funny, he’s kind and he most certainly would never leave you stranded at a restaurant on your one year anniversary. Because Satoru Gojo certainly wasn’t classy, but he was honorable. And if he promised to be somewhere, he’d be there early, making sure everything was perfect before you got there. 

And right now, two of your most trusted co-workers had their hands inside his body cavity, trying to fix the mess in there. 

--

When Gojo comes to, there’s an aching soreness in his torso and neck. He can feel the tense pressure around his arms too, bandages wrapped around every square inch of his body. But that warm feeling around his wrist was entirely different from the rest. 

He opens his eyes to find you, fast asleep with your head down on the side of his bed and your hand secured tightly around his wrist. Your breaths are slow, so deep in your sleep that you don’t even process Satoru moving around you amidst your slumber. 

He brings his hand down to your hair and watches you lean into his touch, nuzzling your head closer to the blanket. Your hair is messy at this point, bunched up at the top of your head in the messiest knot he’s seen you sport yet. 

There’s a knock at the door and Yuuji is standing there, a small smile on his face. 

“Good morning, Mr. Gojo. Welcome back.” 

Satoru smiles as he moves to his side and starts to hook him up to the monitors, taking a set of fresh vitals. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“Just sore, Yuuji. How are you?” 

“Ah. Night shift. Same old.” 

“Is that little emo you like here?” 

Satoru watches Yuuji’s cheeks go bright pink, as he starts fumbling with the cuff around his hand. 

“Ah, you mean, Megumi? Y/N’s resident? No, he-he’s off tonight.” he stumbles. 

“Shame. Nothing like flirting on the night shift.” Satoru states, clicking his tongue. 

“Oh, I don’t flirt with-” 

“Well, you should. He’s cute. And a doctor. Someone is going to snatch him up real fast.” Satoru states, definitively. 

“Mr. Gojo, I don’t know if-” 

“Trust me. I know all too well. People swoop in for the doctors before you can even fight to get them back.” Satoru states, reaching down to tuck your hair behind your ear. 

“Well, I-” 

“I’m just saying, kid. Swoop in before it’s too late.” he states, giving him a smile. 

“Yeah. Sure, I-I will. Do you need anything else, Mr. Gojo?” 

“Can you get her a blanket? She always gets allergies when it’s too drafty in the room she’s sleeping in.” 

Yuuji smiles, tapping on the railings of the bed. 

“Sure thing.” 

And Yuuji curses himself for doing it, for meddling, but he pokes his head into the room one last time before leaving. 

“And just so you know. You….sometimes you think it’s too late to swoop. But it’s actually like…the perfect time. To swoop….like a bird or something, I don’t know-” Yuuji stammers. 

And when Yuuji leaves and Gojo is able to process his words, he’s trying his best to wipe the smile off of his face. 

--

“Hey, Megs. How are his vitals today?” you ask, swiveling over in your chair. 

Megumi, irritated with your constant pestering, has had enough of his fill today. He swings his own chair around, tugging at the stethoscope around his neck, as he glares at you. 

“For the hundredth time, your little boo boo bear is just fine. We’re planning to discharge tomorrow.” 

You frown, reaching for the closest item - a roll of gauze - and throw it square in his face. 

“He’s not my boo boo bear. And I’m just checking. You know he could have complications after the surgery like inf-” 

“Infection, hypotension, septic shock, multiple system organ failure, yeah yeah. I know. I graduated top of my class at medical school, you know?” 

“And yet here you are, being taught by Shoko. You’re clearly not that great if you’re being trained by a girl who cheated her way through medical school.” 

“I’m going to leave. And when I’m gone, you’re going to be really pissed because you’re going to be stuck with some idiot that can’t even take vitals.” Megumi deadpans, swiveling back to his computer. 

“No, you’re not. You’d never leave your boo boo bear hanging. Especially since he’s planning on asking you on a date tomorrow.” 

“He’s not asking me on a date.” Megumi responds. 

You smile, trying to swallow your laugh as you respond. 

“Oh, sure he is. And-” 

Your phone timer goes off, as you gleefully sprint out of your chair, and down the hall to Satoru’s room. Nanami’s in there, unwrapping his bandages, as you knock and enter to make your presence known. At the sight of you, Nanami’s glaring as you drag the chair up and sit at his side. 

“Y/N. You should be working.” 

“I’m on my lunch. And I’m allowed to do whatever I want for lunch.” 

“You should eat something, Y/N. Instead of bothering our patients.” Nanami scolds, as he shuts the door behind you and you turn to Satoru. 

Satoru looks way better, the bruising on his skin fading to yellow and the cuts all around his skin healing. He’s smiling softly, a hand cupping your cheek as he talks. 

“Good morning, Y/N.” 

“Hi Satoru.” 

“You know, you really should eat something on your lunch break.” 

“You know, you really should keep your annoying opinions to yourself.” you respond. 

He scoffs, moving his hand to mess up your hair, as you swat his hands off. 

“So.” Satoru states. 

“So?” 

“A little birdie told me that you broke up with Yuri last night.” 

“Well, your little birdie was wrong. As nosy as he is, he clearly doesn’t know how to listen.” 

You both laugh, Gojo slightly dejected by your response, as you lace your hands through his, and smile at your hands firmly pressed together. 

“Yuuji’s got a bad case of the chismosa virus.” 

“And you don’t? I heard you giggling with Shoko at the nurses station about how the emo is going to ask Yuuji on a date.” 

“No, Yuuji's asking Megumi on the date. And okay, but that’s actually a big deal. I’ve been trying to set that up for months.” 

“Well, you can’t take credit because I’m actually the one who got Yuuji to do it.” 

You frown, reaching forward to pinch his cheeks. 

“Shut up. It’s only the months of build up, that I basically created, that’s making him do it.” 

“Well, I pushed him over the edge. So it’s my victory.” 

You sigh, sitting back in your chair as you smile at him, at how easily you both fall back into this. 

“How about we both did it?” you ask, giving him a smile. 

“Sure. We always did make a good team.” he responds, making your cheeks burn. 

You reach for his blanket and start moving his gown to inspect the incision, trying to make sure that the site wasn’t getting infected, from when you checked yesterday. . 

“Okay, pervert. I didn’t realize you were into voyeurism.” Satoru says, incredulously. 

“Gojo. Do you even know what voyeurism means?” 

“Yeah. It’s people who like to have sex in public.” 

You snort, moving the edge of the gown as you note the clean sutures, healing well along the length of his torso. 

“That is not what voyeurism means, dumbass.” 

“Sorry. I didn’t realize I was fighting with the sex kink expert here.” 

“I-I’m not a sex kink expert! You’re just fucking stupid.” 

“Oh, shut up.” 

You roll your eyes, as you settle back into the chair, reaching forward to cup his face. He smiles, soft and warm, which you return. 

“You’re healing really well. It’ll just be a faint line, right around your torso when you’re out of here.” you murmur. 

“It kinda looks like I got my legs cut off and someone sewed them back on.” he murmurs. 

“That’s not funny.” you deadpan, glaring at him. 

“Kinda funny. That’s a really unfortunate way to die.” he responds.

“I know there’s a universe out there where that actually happens to you. And I know for a fact that Satoru doesn’t think it’s funny at all.” 

“Okay, Doctor Strange. Let’s pipe down there, alright? Even if that did happen to me, I’d come back from it. Because guess what?” 

“Don’t say it.” you groan. 

“Because I’m the strongest.” 

“You know that never gets less annoying right?” 

“You love it.” he responds, reaching forward to pinch your cheek. 

You look down, at your hand tangled in Satoru’s as you find a way to broach the topic. That for all intents and purposes, that you want nothing to do with Yuri. That you want him, that you do love his stupid jokes, that you’d beg on your hands and knees for him to take you back because-

“Do you want to go to the aquarium on Friday?” Satoru asks. 

“The aquarium?” 

“Yeah. We can take a picnic basket, eat on the lawn outside afterwards.” Satoru says. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, aggressively nodding in response. 

“Yeah. That sounds nice. We can um-carpool.” 

“Sure. It’s a date.” he responds, leaning into his pillow with a soft smile on his face. 

You bite down the stupid smile that’s rising to your cheeks, as you close your eyes, humming in agreement. 

“Yeah. It’s a date.” you whisper back. 

--  

Eight days after the fact and Yuri, in his infinite wisdom, finally comes through. That’s when he musters the courage to bring himself to your apartment, where Satoru has been staying with you since he was discharged. And when Satoru answers the door, Yuri’s all levels of pissed. 

“Who are you?” Yuri asks. 

“I’m the owner of this house.” Gojo responds, trying not to laugh at his own joke. 

“Did Y/N move?” 

“No, dumbass. It was a joke.” he responds, rolling his eyes. 

Satoru leans off of the door frame, calling for you, as you join him at his side. 

“Hey, you okay? I was planning on making lunch for- oh.” 

Satoru smiles, reaching forward to ruffle your hair, before he shuffles away. 

“Holler if you need me.” 

You shoot Satoru a grateful smile, infinitely thankful that the two of you were able to pick up right where you left off, as you turn to Yuri in your doorway. 

“Where were you on Saturday?” he asks, arms crossed over his chest. 

You swallow hard, rehearsing the speech you had prepared with Satoru when you were tangled in his arms last night, and make your best attempt to deliver the blow the best you can. 

“Yuri. I think we should stop seeing each other.” 

“What?” 

“I just don’t think that we’re really compatible. You and I are…on different wavelengths. And you deserve someone who is better suited to you and your….interests.” you murmur, awkwardly rubbing your arms on your arms. 

In actuality, you feel a little bit bad. That technically, you might have been…a little bit dishonest with Yuri. Because you’re having this conversation with him, days after the fact, when you’ve already done god knows what with Gojo in the past few days he’s been back with you. He’s all but living in your apartment at this point, under the premise of needing twenty four hour medical support, when really, you’re both just soaking up on time you lost. 

Time is so precious, that you forgot to tell Yuri until he showed up, on your doorstep. You finally understand why Yuri was late to things, because whatever he was doing when he wasn’t with you, must have been keeping him occupied the way this was keeping you occupied. 

Because you kept planning on calling him, but then Gojo would take you out to breakfast. Or you’d sleep in too late and then knew that you’d be interrupting Yuri at work. And the list, it went on and on and led you to this moment and it’s painfully awkward. 

And maybe it’s bad, a little bit evil even, but that small bit of bad feeling is overshadowed by every bit of good that you’ve felt in the past few days. At Gojo ordering dessert out of nowhere, that he insists he’s sharing with you before he eats almost the entire thing, or when he drags you to the bathroom when he’s doing his night time hair care routine. 

“Where were you? On Saturday?” 

“Look, I just got called into work, okay?” 

“Are you…are you serious? Don’t tell me you’re really dating that dumbass who just answered the door?” 

“Frankly, it’s none of your business who I date anymore because you…you aren’t really a part of my life anymore. And we’re not dating, we’re just-” 

“God. He flashes one pretty smile at you and you go running back to him? Need I remind you, that you complained about him for months on end. About how he’s messy, he’s careless, he’s-” 

“That stuff doesn’t matter. At least not anymore.” 

“You’re a bitch, you know that?” 

You feel Gojo padding behind you, and you put your hand up in the air, signaling for him to stay where he is. 

“Do you really want to know where I was on April 29th? On our one year anniversary, I was sitting in a shitty restaurant, for an hour and a half waiting for you to show up. When I hadn’t heard from you all day. And then I got a call, that the man that I love was in the hospital, and then I was at his side. Willing him to wake up, because I would be so fucking angry, so fucking pissed if he died and I didn’t get to tell him that he meant the world to me.” 

Yuri swallows hard, the look of betrayal etched on his face. 

“Are you trying to hurt me right now? Do you get some kind of sick gratification from killing the one you love?” he asks. 

“I’d argue that my way is nicer actually. One fell swoop, with the truth out there. The slowest way to kill someone is never loving them enough. And honestly, it’s just cruel. And of course, something that you were too skilled at.” 

You’re not sure what it is about what you said, but suddenly Yuri’s stomping down the hallway and you’re shutting the door, as the tears start pouring out of your eyes and you’re leaning against the door. 

Now that Yuri’s gone, Satoru’s shed all his inhibitions and he’s cradling you straight in his arms, his soft voice cooing in your ear as you hiccup into his chest. 

“Hey. You did so good, princess.” 

“I-I’m not crying because I’m sad. I still…I still want you, you know?” 

Satoru smiles, bringing his hands up to cup your cheeks in his hand and wipe your tears away. 

“I know that, sweetheart. I’m irresistible.” he murmurs. 

You lightly shove him, before resting your head against his torso, hearing the rapid beating of his heart under your ear. 

“I’m just really relieved. That you-that you’re-” 

You look up, at his sparkling blue eyes, the tiny fractals of color like perfectly constructed, charted constellations in his eyes. 

“I’m glad you’re here. Again.” 

He smiles wide, leaning forward to press his lips to your forehead. 

“Me too, yeah?”

--

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

taglist:

@porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme 

lmk if you would like to be added to my taylor as gojo or my general masterlist in the replies or inbox <3

[danieyells]

@mayoigotokurousagi TIME FOR OUR FAVORITE FRANKENSTEIN'S MONSTER INSPIRED MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL. I mean. Maybe there's another you're into. Idk. I like Jiro. He's so. . .blunt. I'm so curious about him, I really really cannot wait until we get the Mortkranken chapter.

also, uh, brief content warning for a mention of assisted suicide? It's under the 'Default' lines, if you feel the need to avoid that.

Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)

"Oh, there you are. I was about to go give you a health check. This saves time and effort." ああ、そこにいたんですか。今からあなたの健診に行こうと思ってたんです。手間が省けました

You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)

"Are those letters piling up over there? It's interesting that doesn't bother you.  Not that my opinion is relevant." そこに溜まってるのは手紙ですか？よく気になりませんね。 まあ、俺には関係ありませんけど

Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)

"I don't like unproductive discussions. Like this one." 非生産的な議論は嫌いですね。例えば、今のような会話です

"They said they wanted to die, so I prescribed them what they needed. I don't see the point of discussing ethics after the fact." あちらさんが死にたいと言うので、必要な薬を処方したまでです。今更倫理を持ち出されても、困りますよ

Hey. Buddy. Jiro. That's fuckin' dark dude. This is why you don't joke about wanting to kill yourself. Someone will take it seriously. Jiro will just hand you cyanide pills, a bottle of water, and direct you to a hospital bed to die in. Like jesus christ.

"I save lives that can be saved. It's part of my job to decide the order of priority though." 救える命は救いますよ。まあ、そこに優先順��をつけるのがこちらの仕事なので

"part of my job is to decide if your life is worth saving" IS ALSO A VERY DARK THING TO SAY. I love that his default lines are all very dark and callous. It kind of drives home a dichotomy between how he feels about just anybody and how he feels about you. I also like that he's just. . .kind of dark and gloomy and like ASPECTS OF HIM ARE VERY UNPALATABLE. Like I'm sure there are a lot of people who see those lines and think "that's gross why would anyone like him he's the worst" and THAT'S A GOOD KIND OF CHARACTER TO HAVE ESPECIALLY AS A LOVE INTEREST okay moving on

"One of our patients is thrashing around again? That's inconvenient. I'll administer a shot." また患者が暴れてるんですか？ はあ……面倒くさいですね。１本打っておきますよ

jiro stabbing you with a sedative filled needle like 'stop moving. you are annoying.'

"You should—  Hurk... Hm, I let my guard down. I better go back to Mo— Orgh... Hurk...!" あなた、そろそろ…… うっ……まずいな、完全に油断してました。早く帰っえ、うっ……おえっ……

Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)

"Good morning. I'm going to take your pulse, so could you sit down?" おはようございます。脈拍測るんで、座ってもらえます？

Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)

"I was in a prolonged coma, so I haven't fully recovered yet. It's been a long time since I ate anything." 俺、長いこと昏睡状態だったんで、まだ本調子じゃないんですよ。飯なんて、しばらく食ってませんし

i wonder when he woke up. it must have been a few months ago at most.

Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"What do you want? I'm conducting an incubation experiment. Please wait till I'm finished." なんですか？　今、培養実験中なので。話なら後にしてください

Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)

"I'm about to receive my medication. It should take approximately one hour. Are you going to wait for me?" ああ、今から投薬の時間なんです。多分１時間くらいかかると思いますけど、待ちますか？

Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)

"I attend classes every day since Yuri does, but sometimes they mark me as absent. I'm supposed to reply when they say my name? I didn't know that." 佑理に付き合って毎日授業に出てるんですけど、時々欠席扱いになってて。 返事が必要？　知らなかったな

"yeah you're supposed to let them know you're there." "i am one of the largest people in the room at any given time. that seems unnecessary." also it's cute that he only goes to class because Yuri does, but also he doesn't learn anything from it since he studied it all independently lol

Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"The blood? I believe one of the wounds on my stomach tore. I'll have to get Yuri to suture it." ああ、この血ですか？　さっきから腹の傷が開いてるみたいなんです。佑理に縫ってもらわないとな

Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)

"What's the purpose of educational facilities like this? You can learn everything you need through self-study." こういった教育施設って、なんのためにあるんでしょうね？　勉強なら自分ですればいいだけですし

Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Who is that noisy blond person? He runs away whenever he sees me. That's rude, isn't it?" 時々見かける、うるさい黄色の人は何者なんです？　 俺の顔を見るといつも逃げるんです。失礼ですよね？

i love the 'isn't it?' like he doesn't know normal social convention but he's pretty sure you're not supposed to run from people like that.

Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)

"You don't have to mind me. Go ahead and eat. Even in childhood I never really had an attachment to food, clothing, or shelter." 俺のことは気にせず、飯食ってください。元々、ガキの頃から衣食住にあまり執着がないので

hey jiro that's uh that's kinda fucking depressing you good?

Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Yuri's holed up in the lab, so I'm going out. If he comes looking for me, tell him I went to bed." 佑理が研究室に籠ってるので、今のうちに出かけてきます。もし俺を探してたら、寝たと言ってください

Wouldn't Yuri just check your bed and not find you there though??? Also when will you sleep???? like i know he doesn't realize a week of allnighters isn't normal but jfc

Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)

"Your face looks terrible. Come over here and inhale this. They're mild smelling salts. They'll wake you up." あなた、ひどい顔ですね。ちょっとこっち来て、これ嗅いでください。 軽い気付け薬です。目が覚めますよ

Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Hello. I'm here to pick up Yuri.  Hm, that's strange. I thought he would be here." こんにちは。佑理を迎えに来ました。 ……あれ？ここにいると思ったんですけど

. . .i wonder why he thought yuri would be with you? how often does he lose track of where yuri is? and why pick him up wouldn't yuri be able to get home himself? unless he figures yuri fell asleep somewhere lmao

Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I can just manage to ingest water, so I brew herbal tea as an indulgence. Would you like some too?" 辛うじて水分なら取れるので、嗜好品としてハーブティーを淹れるんです���。あなたも飲みます？

Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)

"Yuri wouldn't get up, so I was about to give up on getting my morning medication. He got up after the ninth time he used the snooze button though." 佑理がなかなか起きないので、朝は投薬を諦めようかと思いましたよ。９回目のスヌーズで起きましたけど

Yuri and Jiro, like Rui and Haru, need healthy sleep schedules please.

Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)

"What's this? A rice ball? I suppose I might be able to eat some of it." なんですか？　これ。 おにぎり？　まあ、少しくらいなら食べれるかもしれませんが……

can't you only eat fluids. . .are you gonna throw that up later. . . .

Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)

"You already had tea at Frostheim? The tea I make tastes better though, so please drink it anyway." フロストハイムで紅茶を飲んできたんですか？　 まあ、俺の方が美味く淹れられますから、飲んでください

lmao the mortkranken boys really do not appear to have a great opinion of frostheimers!!! "you had tea at--pfffff nah their tea sucks ass drink mine instead."

Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)

"I enjoy being alone. The noise doesn't really bother me when I'm reading though. Can I go now?" ひとりの時間は好きですよ。まあ、本を読んでいる時は、周囲の喧噪も気になりません。もういいですか？

Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)

"What am I doing? I'm making confections. I'm used to making precise measurements when preparing medications, and it's quite similar to that." 今ですか？　製菓をしてるんです。 計量は薬の調合で慣れてるので、まあ、似たようなものです

jiro makes cupcakes and candies and stuff. . .he can't even enjoy them though. . . . .

Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)

"See you tomorrow. ...What? You're the one who told me I should say that while smiling." また明日。 ……なんですか？こう言って笑えばいいと、あなたが言ってたんじゃないですか

i love lines where it's like 'you told me to do this so now i'm doing it.' especially when the pc is shocked when they actually do it lolol

Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)

"We're doing a complete check up today, so please change into these. ... Do you need me to help you undress?" 今日は精密検査なので、この検査着に着替えてください。 ………… 脱げないなら、脱がしましょうか？

strip faster bitch

Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)

"You want to know why I started studying anomalous infectious diseases? I don't know. I just became knowledgeable about them at some point and kept going." なぜ怪異伝染病の研究を始めたか？さあ、気がついたら詳しくなってたので。何となく続けてるだけです

Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"My wounds often tear so I've told Yuri deep dermal suturing would be more effective than simple interrupted, but he won't listen to me." よく傷口が開くんで、結節縫合ではなく真皮縫合の方がいいと言ってるのに、佑理が聞かないんですよね

I get the feeling Yuri doesn't listen to most people. . . .

Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Yuri's combat skills are poor, so I have to protect him. If he dies, there won't be anyone left who can treat me." 佑理は戦闘が下手なので、俺が守るしかないんです。あの人が死ぬと、俺を治せる人がいなくなるんですよ

"if he dies i die so i'm just kinda protecting him because i have to." kind of an oof lmao

Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)

"It's been a long time since I had a family, so I don't know what you're supposed to do in these situations. Could you teach me?" 俺には長いこと家族がいないので、こういう時、どうすればいいかわからないんです。教えてくれません？

GET FAM-ZONED HAHA aaaaAAAAAA HE SEES YOU AS FAMILY AND HE WANTS TO TREAT YOU THE WAY HE'S SUPPOSED TO TREAT FAMILY. . . . . . ;0; just be yourself jiro we love you as you are, dark and morbid and a little distant but actually quite sweet--

Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)

"There's a high probability that your curse is related to my field of research. It's a problem for me if you die." あなたの呪いは、俺の研究分野に関係している可能性が高い。 あなたを死なせるわけにはいかないんですよ

the bluntness and distance in this one is so perfect for Jiro haha ESPECIALLY AFTER THE "I WANT TO TREAT YOU LIKE FAMILY" ONE BEFORE IT. . .he went from being kind of sweet to being like "if you die it'll be a problem." and not even in a tsundere way just 'it matters to me if you die for academic purposes.

Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)

"I'm going to see some flowers on Yuri's orders. Do you want to come? I'll be harvesting mandrakes." 今から佑理の指示で花を見に行くんです。あなたも一緒に行きますか？ マンドラゴラの採取ですが

"Yuri told me to take a break so I'm gonna go work near some flowers i guess."

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Cases of the infectious disease gastroenteritis explode at this time of year. It's boring prescribing the same thing all the time." この時期は感染症の胃腸炎が爆発的に増えるんですよ。次から次へと、同じ処方ばかりで飽きました

attention darkwick students: please catch more interesting illnesses. thank you -jiro

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Ha ha ha ha! I observed Yuri fighting the urge to fall asleep during class today. Would you like to see the photos?" はははは！ 今日は授業中、ずっと眠気と戦っている佑理を観察してたんですよ。この写真、見ますか？

i really wish it were during the hours this one can play because i wanna record it lolol Jiro smiling and laughing because Yuri's trying not to fall asleep is so precious. Tiny little humanization for our monster boy.

(between 8pm and 5am)

"There are rumors that pollen contains ephedrine, a central nervous system stimulant. They're false, though." 桜の花粉に、興奮を誘発するエフェドリンが含まれるという噂があるそうですね。 まあ、それデマですけど

Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)

"Good, today's temperature matches the forecast. I'll be starting a new experiment this afternoon, but the temperature regulation is difficult. It should be fun." 今日の気温は……予報通りですね。 午後から新しい実験の着手をするのに、温度管理が大変で。楽しみです

temperature regulation experiments are fun! i'm glad Jiro enjoys what he does.

(between 11am and 4pm)

ああ、また手足口病の患者でした。本来子供に多い感染症なんですが、免疫がない人は可哀想ですね "It was another case of hand-foot-and-mouth disease. It's an infectious disease usually more common in children. People without immunity are unfortunate."

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"A dare? Okay, I'll do it with you. I've always wanted to try screaming in fear." へえ、肝試しですか。 いいですよ、付き合います。恐怖で叫ぶ経験を、一度くらいしてみたいので

"a dare" isn't really a good translation here--肝試し is a "test of courage", an activity usually done on summer evenings where you go someplace scary with your friends to overcome fear together! Or something like that. It's most often done in summer because that's when it's believed there are more like. . .supernatural occurrences? several other characters' summer lines mention more anomalies in Japan in the summer as a result of these beliefs. Either way it's cute that he's like 'oh. that sounds cool. i hope it'll make me experience fear.' I want him to scream in an exaggerated way, just SHRIEKING for the sake of it, not even because he's really that scared just "this feels like the appropriate situation for screaming :)" lmao

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Ha ha ha ha! Oh, sorry. I tried letting the stag beetles I caught for an experiment fight, and it was funnier than I expected." はははは！　ああ、すいません。 採取の時に捕まえたカブトムシ同士を戦わせたら、想像以上に面白くて

i feel like that's something that comes up now and then as like. a thing young japanese boys do. which makes jiro kind of childish in a way which is super charming? it sounds to me like he didn't have much of a childhood. so i'm happy he can explore it now and have fun.

Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)

"I don't understand why you would go somewhere without a purpose. Why would you go to a mountain if you didn't need to harvest something?" 行楽ですか？　いえ、単純に何が目的か理解できないんです。採取もせず、山を歩くんですか？

mods, show him the beauty of nature.

(between 11am and 4pm)

"I went to the botanical garden to get some ingredients and I was given these yams. Do you like candied yams?" さっき植物園に原料をもらいに行ったらサツマイモをもらったんです。スイートポテトは好きですか？

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"A lot of people in Mortkranken dislike exercise.The sporting clubs in Darkwick must be made up of people from other houses." うちの寮は、体を動かすことが嫌いな人が多いですね。学内でスポーツをしてるのも、他寮の人ですよね？

i am once again asking why i was put in fuckin frostheim--

(between 8pm and 5am)

"I read books every day, not just in the fall. I like medical journals best. I don't remember what made me start reading them." 秋に限らず、本は毎日読みますよ。特に医学の専門書は好きですね。 いつからなのかは……忘れました

Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)

"Hurk...! Phew... I'm fine... The change in temperature between indoors and outdoors this time of year causes my physical condition to deteriorate more frequently." うっ……はあ……大丈夫です……この季節は室内外の寒暖差のせいで体調を崩しやすいので……

i remember someone i followed also gags when going from a cold place to a warm one lmao. . . .

(between 11am and 4pm)

"I found an anomalous plant that can only grow in extremely low temperatures and successfully created a medication with it. It was just a coincidence though." 極低温のみ自生する怪異植物を見つけたので、試しに原薬にしてみたら上手くいきました。まあ、偶然です

'i made a medical breakthrough but it was just an accident' is the medical equivalent of 'i'm not a model'. also Yuri has a line referencing this one!

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Streptococcal infections are on the rise. They're spread through droplet and contact infection. Have you been taking precautions?" 溶連菌の感染が増えてますね。飛沫感染と接触感染が経路になります。 あなた、ちゃんと予防してます？

jiro says WEAR YOUR FUCKIN' MASK.

(between 8pm and 5am)

"There are no merits to lowering your body temperature when you're not experiencing inflammation. I made some herbal tea that warms the body. Do you want some?" 炎症時以外、体を冷やすメリットはないですからね。体を温めるハーブティーを淹れたので、いかがです？

His birthday: (October 13th)

"Whose birthday? Oh, mine? I forgot. Did Yuri leak my medical records?" 誕生日？　誰のです？ ああ、俺のですか、忘れてました。カルテ、佑理が漏らしたんですか？

"did yuri fuckin dox me--"

Your birthday:

"Oh, it's your birthday today, isn't it? What should I do? I suppose I'll go to your room later." ああ、あなた今日、誕生日じゃないですか。何をすればいいんですか？ まあ、後でそちらの部屋に行きます

jiro no you don't have to do that you are moving so fast WHAT HAPPENED TO BEING FAMILY WAIT--

New Years: (January 1st)

"Happy New Year. Why are you looking at me like that? Even I celebrate New Years." 明けましておめでとうございます。 なんですか？　その顔。正月くらい俺だって祝いますけど

Valentine's Day: (February 14th)

"What's this packet? I can't eat solids. You made it? Oh. I can probably eat some of it then." なんですか？　この包み。俺、固形物は食べれませんけど…… なんだ。あなたの手作りなら少しはいけます

bby if you can't eat it don't make yourself sick with it. . . . Actually since the PC feeding him let him eat food, maybe if it's something the PC makes he can eat it???

White Day: (March 14th)

"Here. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, something handmade for something handmade. Eat it here and tell me what you think." どうぞ。目には目を、歯には歯を、手作りには手作りをと思いまして。ここで食べて評価を教えてください

April Fool's Day: (April 1st)

"Yuri's kicking up a fuss and saying I deceived him? I don't remember doing it. It doesn't matter though." 佑���が、俺に騙されたって騒いでるんですか？　そんなことしましたっけ。 まあ、どっちでもいいですけど

i wonder if he actually pulled a prank and he's just hiding it really well. . .or if Yuri is just paranoid lol Yuri's for the record:

"Hmph, did you honestly think you could fool me? I won't fall for your cheap tricks. I've already been fooled by Jiro seven times today!" ふんッ。貴様も僕を騙すつもりで？その手には乗りません。今日はすでに、次郎くんに７回騙されたのでね

Halloween: (October 31st)

"I don't know much about Halloween. I can't eat candy though, so I have to play a trick on you, right?" ハロウィン？　よく知りませんが、俺、お菓子は食べれないので。 あなたに悪戯すればいいんですよね

Christmas: (December 25th)

"This tree? It's a fir tree. Yuri told me to get one, so I cut it down and carried it back here. My special artifact doesn't cut very well." この木ですか？　佑理に言われて、モミの木を切って持ってきました。俺の特質怪具、切れ味が悪いんです

Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)

"Are you dead? Oh, you're alive." ……死んでます？　ああ、なんだ。生きてたんですね

jiro poking you with a stick like 'you dead?'

(13 affinity and above)

"Oh, Yuri's calling me. It'll be annoying if I pick up, so I'll just ignore it until you're ready to go again." ……ああ、佑理から連絡です。出ると面倒なので、あなたが動けるようになるまで、無視しておきます

'yuri is the only reason i'm alive but he's gonna yell at me so i'll just wait to pick up the phone' why??? i guess he wants to go back with you if yuri's telling him to come home lol ALSO DON'T YOU THINK IGNORING YOUR PHONE RINGING WILL WORRY YURI. . . .

Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)

"You've skipped too many appointments. It's been a long time since your last check up...  I suppose I'll have to re-examine you." あなた、受診サボりすぎです。前回からかなり間が空いてるな…… まあ、今から再検査すればいいです

time to fill out your whole chart again! examination from top to bottom!

THERE WE GO. sorry that one took so long!! He's actually a bit of a goof but his no-affinity lines make him come off as extra cold and cruel. He just has to get used to you!! But I think it has a very charming contrast. AFTER THIS IS JIN! Tomorrow night maybe? it's almost midnight and i have to wake up early again and my insomnia kicked my ass last night. . . .

[bitterbutblue]

What if i request Robin x Fem!Reader where Robin felt a bit pressured from the media and as her beloved girlfriend you help her relief stress :33

It can be fluff or smut, i dont rlly care i just want more Robinnn content :333

Thank you in advance!!!

Also can i be 🍷 anon? :3

you're not bad, but rather good ☆ robin x fem!reader

~ omg hi!!!! ur my first anon this is so exciting.... i don't do smut but i can totally do fluff.. anything 4 u <3

gonna start naming out the song lyrics i've been using as titles

loveable ~ jo yuri <3 ~

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

Robin's recent comeback- a miserable failure.

Robin's new EP 'Welcome To My World' has been nothing but a colossal failure. With each new album, Robin continues to disappoint- fans are sick of her low effort songs and lack of stage presence. Her comeback stage shows her clearly lack of passion. Just because she has made a name for herself does not mean she can now slack off on stage when fans pay thousands to see her-

You closed the article before you finished reading it. If you continued, you probably would've ended up throwing your phone across the room or do something along the lines of that sort of stupidity that you would end up regretting later. That article was like a knife through the heart for Robin but for you it was a knife through the author's decaying and bleeding out body as you stab that fucker over and over again. Okay, maybe that was too violent but fuck you can't stand to see people say such bullshit about your girlfriend. She called you at work, crying and saying she couldn't do it anymore. You could barely make out her words through her sobs and the bad signal (which led you to believe she was hiding in the bathroom).

"I worked so hard, I don't know what they want from me. I can't-"

"Robin, baby, deep breaths- okay? I'm right here, it's okay."

It infuriates you, how people can run their mouths and say whatever bullshit that comes to their mind just because they're not satisfied with their own miserable lives. Just because they feel like dragging someone down would perhaps make themselves feel better about the fact that someone half their age is more successful than they will ever be. You want to tell her that you'll fucking find them and make their life a living hell but that's definitely not what she wants to hear right now.

"What do they want from me? I'm so tired, I don't wanna do this anymore."

All you really could do was continue to comfort her, hoping that she can pick up what you're saying through the static and cut offs due to bad internet. You just stayed with her until her cries became sniffles and she stated that she has to go before they suspect anything. You swallowed back your worry and just nodded.

"Okay. I love you, Robin.

You can feel her smile from across the phone.

"I love you."

That night you spent the entire evening in the kitchen, prancing around and trying not to burn the eight things you have going on the stove as you flip through your phone to find that recipe for the thing in the oven that looks horrifically bad.

"Ah fuck..."

You check the time- 8:03, she should be back soon. You finally find the recipe page and you feel your heart drop. Fuck, you were supposed to bake it for 30 minutes- not 50! No wonder that shit looked so wrong! You scramble to pull it out of the oven, the timer with 5 minutes left. You groan when you see how it looks- first it looked wrong and now it was probably burnt too. So much for making your girlfriend's favourite dessert.

"Love?"

The soft voice startles you, yelping as you dropped the cake pan.

"Shit!"

Robin stands there in all her glory. She looks exhausted, eye bags worse than before and shoulders sagged but to you she was still the most beautiful woman you have ever laid your eyes on.

"Everything okay?"

She tries to smile at you but it looks so forced. You feel your heart clenching in your chest as you pick up the cake pan from the ground, moving it back onto the counter.

"Baby, just let me take care of you tonight?"

You pull her in close, hugging her tight. She freezes at first, before completely melting in your grasp. She lets out a shaky sigh as she buries her head in the crook of your neck.

"I missed you."

Her voice is muffled against your shoulder but you just smile as you tiptoe to press a kiss to her forehead.

"I missed you so much, baby." You pull away, cupping her face with your hands as you brush your thumb against her cheek. "You look beautiful."

"Don't lie."

She gets flustered so easily, face turning pink as she looks away but she can't stop the small smile from forming on her face.

"I'm not. You look beautiful."

She sighs as she looks back at you, and the tired expression on your usual warm and happy girlfriend really does hurt you. The way the media can tear people down into nothing but the most insecure parts of themselves has always rubbed the wrong way with you but watching it happen to the one you love most is absolutely heartbreaking.

"I made you dinner?"

"I saw."

Her smile is not as forced now as she looks around the kitchen, a soft giggle escaping her lips.

"Quite a mess you made."

You just shoot an embarrassed grin at her as you tried to hide the cake pan behind your back.

"Well, I'm not a good cook."

"I think you did amazing."

She steps forward, caging you between the counter and herself.

"You make the worst days brighter, you know?"

"You make each of my days better. It's only fair I do the same to you."

Robin looks down, playing with her hands.

"I don't deserve you."

"Oh shut up."

The kiss was soft, gentle and loving. She cups your cheeks as she steps closer, bodies pressed against each other as you pour all the love you can convey through a simple act.

"I love you. I really love you so much, Robin." You say breathlessly to her when you pull away. She doesn't say much, only resting her head on your shoulder as she takes your hand into her own, lacing your fingers together.

"And I'm so proud of you for your new comeback. You've worked so hard and it paid off. You keep outdoing yourself and the people who don't see that can fuck off and die."

She sighs.

"No need for the violence, yeah?"

"Violence is always the answer."

You feel your heart flutter when she lets out a soft laugh, like a songbird's first melody of a new spring.

"You do whatever you want." She says, resting a hand on your chest as she leans in to press a quick but soft kiss to your lips. "Thank you- for this."

"Always."

The food you cooked was mostly inedible- resorting to the two of you ordering takeout together but you couldn't care less about the burnt cakes or undercooked mac and cheese. Robin is smiling again, and that's all you wanted to achieve for the night.

Response to: Robin's recent comeback- a miserable failure.

Robinsdog: op do u not have a life

servallandau_official: No one thinks this.

⤷ talesofthewinterlandsfan222: serval spitting facts but also what r u diong here

⤷ servallandau_official: Do I know you?

⤷ talesofthewinterlandsfan222: ENEVRMIND

march4robin: im giong to find u my entire crew is oing to find u we will run out train into u

galaticstelleballer: i am also going to run my train into u. and my bat. both at the same time.

⤷ dh: Guys please.

Sunday_Oakfamily: We are taking this post and the writer off the platform.

The article you are searching for no longer exists.

[rockdrop]

ohmygoodness 2 days and i can draw to my heart's content again😷cant wait to get back into my daily yuri routine

[neallo]

YURI, that means GIRL X GIRL, don't like don't read!!!!!

a quick list of death note yuri fic recs. please note this is an off-the-cuff list & features genderswapped yaoi ships fairly heavily. this is because i write for and read for mello x near first and foremost. i DO have a few remisa and kiyomisa recs, PLUS canon x reader recs... so we are going for a good wide variety here <3

important: i am not listing content warnings of any kind on any of these. most of them fall under the AO3 category "No Archive Warnings Apply," but you alone are responsible for reading the tags and summary for yourself after clicking through and before reading!

encouraging everyone to leave kudos & comments on these! show authors your love! <3

[divider credit]

Misa Amane / Rem

gracefully strung by your hand rated E | 1,862 words

Rem often wondered if Misa’s pleasure was art; Rem certainly thought of it as an act of creation. She was convinced that no other human could create with their body in this way.

Made You Smile rated G | 816 words

“Hey, Rem?” Misa screws on the lid of the nail polish bottle she was fidgeting with, leaning back against her pillows to get a good look up at her friend’s face. “I have a question, is that okay?” “Of course.” Rem turns to her, as permissive as ever. “I will do my best to answer.” She always does. Misa smiles slightly, then beckons her closer. “Actually, I have two. Can I paint your nails?” Rem studies her like she doesn’t quite understand, but when Misa doesn’t clarify or take it back, she hesitantly extends one of her long arms. Her hands are entirely bone, with long thin fingers, and slightly cool to the touch. Misa approximates where Rem’s nails would be if she had any and unscrews the lid again, beginning to apply the red polish in a neat, round oval. “Okay, and my other question…” Misa looks up at Rem, then down again. “What makes you happy?” --- Amane Misa is endlessly endeared towards and endlessly curious about her new shinigami companion.

Misa Amane / Kiyomi Takada

Ruby rated E | 8,307 words

Sometimes she really hates herself. She'd invited Misa to dinner with the intention of maintaining a composed and calculated demeanor throughout, sitting tall with her head held high as always, cementing her position above her. Certain nothing could cause her to lose her footing. But as Misa smiles like a devil across the table, her lips painted like a berry, shining like a ruby in the low light, Kiyomi can feel the control slipping through her fingers. Misa chips away at her, strips the presentable image she so carefully crafted and reveals a side of her she'd kept under lock and key. Not like herself at all. ...Or maybe exactly like herself.

folie à deux rated E | 1,768 words

If Misa were truly devoted, like the sinner that she is, she would have confessed that night while writing her name in pink ink that, in the low light, would of course look red, bloody and terrible and real. Misa did none of these things; instead, this time she took the initiative to ask Kiyomi to dinner.

Canon / Reader

turndown service (misa amane x reader) rated E | 1,571 words

Misa wants a goodnight kiss from Y/N, and who is Y/N to deny her?

cloud (kiyomi takada x reader) rated E | 1,467 words

After a tryst with Misa, Y/N steps outside for some fresh air. Who do you find, Miss To-Oh herself, having a smoke and a midnight snack.

Mello / Near

(see here the neallo-only version of this list)

polar night rated M | 8,119 words

Mello still remembers the time when the collar in Near’s shirt had been twisted, and, without thinking, she reached to fix it, her fingertips grazing the warm skin of her neck. Mello had felt Near’s eyes on her the whole day, and her own hand burned until the next.    But Near's hair is something out of her reach; there’s almost no excuse for her to touch it, and the request is weird itself. Her pride works as a break, a halt in her intent of embarrassing herself by even asking in the first place. Because Mello knows very well that if she ever starts, she may never stop.  Sometimes, she really doesn’t trust herself. But Near does.   Maybe Mello isn’t the stupid one out of the two.  -- [the one where Mello's body is made out of nothing but a sadistic brain and a masochist heart]

Lay Odds rated M | 3,505 words

Nat River, a strange orphan girl adopted and brought to London by the Great Gentleman Detective 'L', is following the footsteps of her adopted father as the Lady Detective 'Near'. When L's case brings him to America, he insists on bringing Near with him to New York. There, the sensitive, shut-in Near is drawn into the wild parties and terrible violence of mafiosi, bootleggers, and drug dens. When a gangster's case practically lands in her lap, she must work to prove that old-world deduction can prevail among new money murderers.

Coast-to-Coast rated E | 796 words

"I miss you." "You do?" asked Near. "Fuck off," snapped Mello. "Get on a plane." "It's the middle of the night," said Near. "So? Airports don't close."

Powder Keg rated E | 2,014 words

Mello stops by Near's room for a late night visit after getting her photo back earlier that day. Near has a certain... fixation.

Steeplechase rated T | 1,025 words

Mello wakes up before dawn and finds the horses in the stables. The groom is already up. There's mist on the track. The barn is alive, and it's cool out. or; Horse Girl Near & eternally undone Mello.

Blur rated E | 2,765 words

Near calls Mello back to the SPK's HQ, but she doesn't want to talk.

L / Light

Lavender Haze [with podfic] rated E | 9,017

Freshly back in Japan, L lets Matt take her to their favourite lesbian bar, where she lays eyes on Light Yagami — a strange, petulant butch girl who may or may not have attempted to murder her own husband. L would very much like for Light to take her home. or L is unhinged levels of horny for a girl she met zero seconds ago.

Hear No Evil rated E | 4,497 words

Misa presses the elevator button and heads up, up, up, all the way to Light's room on the sixteenth floor. She gets halfway down the hall before she realizes that something is off. "Please," someone who sounds very much like Light is saying, from behind Light’s bedroom door. Misa pays her girlfriend a surprise visit after-hours at the Kira Task Force headquarters, and overhears what she believes to be a brutal interrogation. After a tense bout of worried eavesdropping, she intervenes to save her. Light puts the "light" in "gaslight." L is also there.

[neteyamslovrr]

I'VE MISSED YOU

@cinetrix for the neteyam pic hehe

heres a cute little fluffy neteyam drabble!!!

The late nights were taking a toll on both of you. Staying up until the sun rose fulfilling duties as the future leaders of the omatikaya.

It tired both of you. Rarely getting to truly spend time with the other only ever giving each other a kiss on the cheek before one of you would slowly nod off to sleep.

Not only was it taking a toll on both of your healths but also your relationship together. It felt like the stress and tension was slowly building up and was inescapable. As if a smog of awkwardness suffocated you both when in close proximity. And it was unfamiliar to both of you, never feeling this distant from each other while being so close.

You had luckily finished duties early, deciding to return back to your tent and make a warm meal for your mate for when he returned home. The delicious scents of the food slowly stewing together below the small fire you had was making the tent cozy and homely.

Stirring the pot occasionally adding in your mate's favourite vegetables, chopping them with the very knife he had created for you for the first cycle of eclipses.

The curtains ruffled and Neteyam limped himself tiredly into the tent. His face full of stress immediately relaxing as the aromas of the food entered his system. "What is this?" He asked pleasantly suprised squatting himself beside you a careful hand caressing the small of your back.

"It's your favourite yawntu, you deserve it." You smiled back at him welcoming his lips to your forehead a bright smile on your face.

"We're you not with grandmother today?" He asked slowly ridding of dirt on his skin with a small wet fabric cloth.

"My tasks with her were short. She let me come home to take care of her grandson." You chuckled.

Neteyam nods finally sitting upon the woven mat in the tent. "You should be resting my love. These weeks have been busy" His soft fingers glide across your knuckles, gazing into you with a mildly concerned look.

"I am okay. I want to take care of you. Let me." You smile, scooping a bowl of stew into a carved wooden bowl for your mate.

He took it carefully. Bringing the hot food to his mouth sipping it down hungrily. With a satisfied sigh and an empty bowl Neteyam smiles. "Will you relax now?"

Moving onto the cot together, you find yourself wrapped in your mate's arms,.his fingers once again gracefully caressing your skin. "I have missed tou my love" Neteyam whispered playing with the beads on your shirt.

You chuckled rolling your eyes, swallowing down your soup as well. "Yes." you state with a chuckle.

"I have missed you too.." You smile, happily content in your mate's arms.

Just a short drabble now that my motivation is slowly coming back 💞💞

@8resa @ilovejakesullysdick @neteyamsblog @live-laugh-neteyam @reyalvr @trashfox @darkacademictrash @scntfrhs @dreamyescapesfromreality @fanboyluvr @neteyamzmate @neteyamyawne @neteyamssbaby @hana-yuri @solanare @s-surreality @aerangi @papichulo120627 @bellstwd @sussybaka10

[sombrashe]

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆kinktober 2024⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

𓉸ྀི i love a man in uniform

𓉸ྀི Valeria Garza

𓉸ྀི content afab!reader, chubby!reader, christianity, church sex, readers religion is unspecified, uniform sex, yuri, bathroom sex, fingering, reader is called a slut

Leaning over you pluck at a button. The person it belonged to tries hard to ignore you. You were sitting in church in the furthest pew. It was a late Monday night so you could count the amount of people attending on one hand. Your hand had been patiently waiting on her thigh for over an hour now. Boredom has taken over you soon after the offerings were collected. It has only gotten worse especially with Valeria sitting there straight and tall clad in her uniform. Lifting your chin your lips barely scrape against her ear.

“Valeria, I’m bored.”

She scowls and squeezes your knee in an attempt to get you to act right. You don’t let up, though, and take a second to lick the shell of her ear.

“I need youuu~”

“We are in The House of God, knock it off.”

“Then take me out back where God isn't watching.”

Slightly turning her head to the side she quietly rasps at you to go take care of yourself. Huffing you shove past her and leave the middle of the sermon. Pushing open the door you enter the broken down bathroom. Disgust floods your features as you stand painfully still in the middle. The door is cracked and you fear touching the handle. Staying a few minutes you contemplate how you would annoy Valeria on your way back to your shared home. A few more minutes and you’ve formulated a plan. Not even a full five minutes later and you're ready to join the service again. Looking back as the door creaks open you're surprised to find her standing there anger brewing in her eyes. Quickly stepping her way into the bathroom she closes the door with a loud click. Another click and you're locked in with the pissed-off woman. Giving her a nervous smile you try to smooth things over. He immediately cuts you off and raises her hand trying to find the words.

“Valeria, this bathroom is disgusting. Let’s just go back.”

“Then you shouldn't have been such a slut.”

She’s found it. With a grunt, you cross your arms in defiance. Closing the already suffocating space in the room she pushes herself against you. She gives you no time to protest or even take in what's going on before her hand is shoved down your jeans. Buttons pop open to allow her more access. Huffing your head bounces off the peeling wall. Letting it rest against the yellow she takes this opportunity to chew at your neck. Two fingers slip their way under your waistband and find a home against your clit. Groaning, you attempt to keep quiet. As much as you want to be obnoxiously loud you know better. You want to cum like this. Those fingers leave their home and slip lower and into your soft core. Humming she sinks her teeth into your collarbone and you yelp in surprise at the intense burning that spreads through your chest. She hushes you as her fingers pick up pace. Clamping your lips closed your eyes water at the lack of pain relief. Pleasure mixed with the pain and you have to squeeze your eyes closed to remain in the moment. Letting her have full control you can only weakly hump against her palm hoping for more friction. She angles her hand so her fingers can still pump deep in you while her thumb presses against your clit, rubbing harshly. Whining softly she works you over for the rest of the sermon. You can feel the coil in your abdomen slowly start breaking as music floods the hallways. A signal that church was nearly over. Huffing the coil finally crashes as a bang is heard outside the small bathroom. The large doors have been opened and you can overhear muffled speaking as your orgasm crashes over you and you're soaking through your underwear. Peeling herself away from you she takes a few moments to wash her hands allowing you the chance to find your composure. A few paper towels in the trash later and she's gently buttoning your jeans and fixing your top enough to look presentable to the pastor. Helping you out of the bathroom she takes a moment to shake the pastor's hand and comment on the lovely ceremony.

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist | Valeria Masterlist

[heian-era-housewife]

Synopsis | You just want to be "normal". Is that too much to ask? A trip to Walmart with Sukuna may be just what you need to remind you that being normal is overrated.

Content | g/n!reader x true form sukuna, fluff, crack, agoraphobia, social phobia, mention of self loathing, mental health *or lack thereof*

A/N | If you're new here, Hi! I'm Yuri and I live with agoraphobia. Fittingly, the roots of this word are "market place" and "fear", but really it is a social phobia based around leaving one's house or being in public/crowded places. As with any mental health issue, it takes many forms.

Anyway, this is an oddly specific and very much self indulgent drabble based on pretty much every experience I've ever had with Walmart. Including today.

Hope you enjoy!

"I still don't understand why you're making me do this." Sukuna said, head leaning on the glass of the passenger-side window of your car where he sat, all four arms crossed in visible annoyance.

"We need groceries 'Kuna." You remind him. "And please put your seatbelt back on."

He rolled his eyes with a scowl. Pulling enough slack from the belt to stretch across his broad chest, he struggled for several seconds to find the buckle hiding under his beefy thigh. 

"This is stupid. I told you Uraume can go to the market for us."

"And I told you that I wanted to try being a normal human being for once." You retort.

"Hmph." He pouted. "I fail to see how a- what did you call it?"

"A 'Walmart Run'?"

"I fail to see how a run to 'Walmart' makes one a 'normal human'." 

"'Kuna, you know how bad my anxiety is. I love that Uraume does so much for us, but I'm afraid if I never step out of my box again, I'll regress and turn into some sort of shut-in. I just want to be normal. I want to be like everyone else. Y'know?"

In place of an answer, he gestured sarcastically to his own mutated form. His four eyes blinking in stone-cold irony.

"Okay, okay." You conceded. "You know what I mean."

It had been a while since you'd gone anywhere. Your needs were always provided for in Sukuna's estate, and whatever he didn't have, he sent Uraume to get. As an agoraphobe, this life suited you perfectly. But there was still a piece of you that craved that social ingredient that made you feel less broken, even if it did fill you with dread. 

The trip started out okay. You grabbed a cart and skirted the outer aisles, avoiding the ones where employees were stocking shelves or people bustled about for more popular items. 

As time went on, however, your chest grew tighter, the sounds grew louder, and your personal bubble was at risk of popping.

Suddenly, the simple act of reaching for milk became a tunnel-vision inducing nightmare of shifting carts and bumping elbows all to the backdrop of a small child wailing somewhere nearby. 

You were frozen. Caught in the mayhem. Were you holding your breath or hyperventilating? You didn't even know. Why were you so bad at this? How did this come so easy to other people? And what were you even trying to grab? Was it milk? It must have been milk? Or maybe it was something else and if it was milk was it 2% or maybe whole and why was that child still screaming can't someone do something about that? wasn't anyone else feeling nauseated? and when did it get so hot were the aisles always this narrow?OhGodWhyDidIComeHereAtAll? thiswasaterribleidea?¿?¿? jfhjfs#$&*

Sukuna reached over you, grabbing the milk and throwing it in the cart before swooping his arms around your shoulders and waist, guiding you toward the front of the store.

"Come on, kid." He said in a low grumble. "I think you've had enough. Let's get out of here."

Numb legs carry you forward as you trudge your way toward the self-checkout. You stare blankly in a dissociative state while Sukuna scans the groceries by himself, large hands and fingers fumbling through the prompts on the small touch screen.

Useless. You're so useless. You think to yourself. Can't you do anything? Why are you so weird? So...broken?

"I'm so...weak..." You mumble feebly.

"Come again?" Sukuna grunts with his broad back to you, shoving crumpled bills unsuccessfully into the beeping machine.

"I said you must think I'm so weak." You say, louder this time, bitter tears forming on the rim of your lashes.

"Don't be foolish!" He says. "Of course I think you're weak! You're the weakest human I know!"

You look at him wide-eyed, momentarily pulled from your self-loathing by the shock of his admission. 

"Look at you!" He says, turning around to face you. "You can't even go to the grocery store without having a problem for, God's sake. This is exactly why you need me!"

His words fell heavy on your shoulders. Weighing you down. Making you small. Sure, nothing he said was untrue. But to hear it out loud-

"But you're also the kindest human I know." He continued softly. "You feel more deeply. You never stop trying. You're strong where it counts. You taught me love. You take me to ridiculous places. So yeah. Sure. You're scared of things that don't bother 'normal people'. But where the rest of the world looks upon the King of Curses with nothing but fear and loathing, you look upon me with love and compassion, never once bothered that I wasn't a 'normal person'." 

The tears began to flow. Sukuna took your face in his hands, calloused thumbs gently rubbing them from your cheeks. "And that- that is why I need you." 

A chorus of soft "awwws" came from the other nearby shoppers who had gathered to hear the disfigured man's booming monologue. Cottontop grandmas dabbed at their eyes, while the balding clerk overseeing self-checkout stood from his three-legged stool with a slow, appreciative clap. 

Sukuna's face fell flat with an unamused sigh. "Now can we get out of Walmart before I feel the need to burn the place down?"

That got you to smile. "Sure thing, King."

Bonus Track

On the way back to the car, Sukuna had some Thoughts™️ to share about his first ever trip to Walmart:

-So that was it, huh? I can see why you wouldn't like going there.

-I'd never want to leave my house either if I had to acquire sustenance from a place like that.

-And did you see some of the freaks??

-No, really! You think I'm bad? You could fill the entire internet with the amount of WEIRDOS I saw in there.

-Trust me, there was not one "normal human" in there.

-And why do we call it a "Walmart Run"? The only running I wanted to do was to get out of there.

-Oh! Is that why?

-Heck, you know what, Imma burn it down.

[prime-adeptus]

BAD IDEA (FORGET ABOUT IT, FORGET ABOUT ME) – QUANXI X READER

It’s a bad idea. You know it is. Even fucking worse now that you realise that you’re no longer doing this for sexual pleasure. You’re doing it for her affection, even if it only comes with her hand around your throat or between your thighs. Or, the one where you’re not lovers, just strangers, and you’re fine with it. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

CONTENT.⠀NSFW; female reader; friends with benefits, unrequited pining, angst, slight power imbalance (quanxi is mc’s superior), alcohol, mentions of medication, unhealthy relationships, hurt/no comfort, original character deaths, mentions of blood. Canon divergent, but takes place after the events of Part 1. ~6.5k words

NOTES.⠀my first fic of 2024 lets gooo baby HAPPY NEW YURI!!!! this is my contribution to my thank u, next collab :) likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated! this is the most self-indulgent I’ve ever written but I hope you enjoy regardless;;

also on ao3 | @angelshub @bitchcraftinc @enchantedforest-network @ghostqueue

You never think twice.

It runs in the family, you think. Your father was an insanely reckless devil hunter, your mother was impulsive even in the worst situations, and your brother did things just for the thrill. It’s ironic that for people with a job that relies on survival instinct, they had none at all. Impulsivity runs in your family, and there will soon come a day when it will get you killed the same way it did with them. That’s fine. Death doesn’t scare you, not anymore. He’ll come bearing his scythe when his time comes, taking your soul to where it needs to be, and you’ll let it happen when it does.

Public Safety wasn’t your first option. Being a professional devil hunter wasn’t, either. You wanted to pursue something less violent, like someone who could help improve a community’s welfare. You wanted kids to grow up better than you did. But with devils roaming the streets and the lack of the ‘strong-hearted,’ it came as no surprise that you had to give up on what you’d initially hoped. You’re still pissed about it years later in your career. The younger you wanted to help the world.

In a way, you got what you wanted. It just wasn’t the way you wanted it to happen.

You think you’re more familiar with firearms and blades than you are with flowers and crayons now. Your hands, once soft and delicate, are now scarred and calloused, stained with the blood of those you had to slay and lose in combat. Your heart, once full of hope and kindness, is now cold as ice. The innocence and joy you used to have were cruelly ripped out of your hands and crushed into pieces you can never put together again.

But you don’t have time to miss who you used to be, nor do you have the time to dream anymore. You have to survive in a world where danger lurks in every corner. You will pass the days instead of living them, letting them hurt you and bury misery deep in your bones, but you will survive, if not by sheer determination or instinct.

The drink you’re having burns your throat. Though you weren’t previously a drinker, having seen how it changed people like it did to your father, there’s nothing else you can turn to. You never liked bars either, yet here you are, sitting all by your lonesome. People change, whether it’s out of their volition or against their will. You don’t know where you fall between those categories.

The longer you stare into space, the more you tune out the world around you. You feel as though you aren’t here, but somewhere else. It’s been happening more often than you’d like—zoning out, feeling like you’re not in control of your body, vulnerable. You’re more annoyed by it than you are concerned. You’re a professional devil hunter, bound to an organisation that could dispose of you without a second thought if you fail them. There is no time for weakness. Your training and years of work have taught you that the hard way.

By the time you come back to your senses, your glass is already empty. A frown tugs at the corners of your lips. You’ve half a mind to order another shot to feel something other than perpetual numbness and exhaustion, but ultimately decide against it. Your tolerance isn’t as high as Kishibe’s is, after all. Who knows what will happen if you bite off more than you can chew? You don’t, and more importantly, you don’t want to deal with the consequences.

With a sigh, you leave the bar. The bells above the door chime as the door opens and exposes you to the winter air. A chill runs down your spine, making you shiver involuntarily. You’ve never been fond of the cold. It’s miserable, it makes you lethargic, and it’s a pain to get through without getting sick. You hate the shitty apartment you live in and the equally shitty radiator that came with it too, but this time around, you actually can’t wait to be home. You suppose there are still some things to look forward to, no matter how mundane they may be.

“Hm. Didn’t expect to see anyone out at this hour.”

You turn to see Quanxi leaning against a wall with a cigarette between her lips and the same deadpan expression you’re used to seeing her wear. Instinctively, you bow your head in greeting, though she makes no move to respond to it. Briefly you realise how you’ve never had a proper conversation with her, only good mornings here and there whenever you happen to cross paths. This is the first time she’s properly acknowledged you as something else other than one of Kishibe’s many juniors he ‘babysits,’ as he would say.

The wind blows the nicotine in your direction, causing you to grimace instinctively. In an attempt to cover it, you clear your throat and reply, “I couldn’t sleep.”

“I thought you didn’t like being out at night.”

“I don’t,” you say with a wry smile. “Why are you out at this hour, Miss Quanxi?”

“I couldn’t sleep either.” With a sigh, she pushes herself off the wall and finds her place by your side. “I’ll walk you home. I’m going in the same direction anyway.”

You have a feeling she’s not going to take no for an answer, so all you do is nod and go along with her. It puts you on edge, being so close to someone you’ve always held in high regard. It’s also strange, in a good way, to be alone with a woman like her. Up until a few moments ago, you didn’t even know she was aware of you at all. You find that you like having her beside you like this. It makes you feel safe, protected, and in a way you can’t pinpoint why, like you belong.

The apartment building looms overhead and stands among electrical lines and small stores. The lightbulb in front of the elevator flickers before it goes out, leaving the hallway too dim for your liking. Anxiety starts to bubble at the pit of your stomach. You don’t know if it’s because of the dark or if it’s because of how close she’s standing to you. As your finger hovers over the button, you glance at her and blurt out, “Would you like to come in?”

She blinks as if she wasn’t expecting you to say that. She probably wasn’t. Heat rises to your cheeks and paints them with shame. You tend to speak before you think, which has both worked in your favour and against it.

(You never learn.)

“It’s cold outside,” you try to reason. “You could come in for tea, warm up for a bit before you go. I’d feel bad if I let you leave without anything.”

“I don’t need anything from you.”

Your face burns. You should’ve thought she’d say no. You should’ve thought more. Of course, the Quanxi has no reason to stay and chat with you. She’s not the kind of person to do such a thing. She’s stoic, unapproachable, and–

“But if you insist, I’ll come in,” she says, interrupting you just before your brain is about to go into overdrive. “I could use a break anyway.”

She follows you into the cramped elevator without another word. It’s hard to keep your cool as you’re all too slowly taken up the building. With trembling hands, you unlock the door to your apartment. Your nerves are going haywire for reasons you can’t begin to fathom. You ignore them the best you can.

“Tea? Coffee?” you ask. You like to think you’re pretty good at keeping your composure, but you’re not so confident tonight. It’s fine. You’re being considerate, nothing more, so there’s no need to be so nervous. You’re just being a good host.

“Tea is fine.”

“Alright. Um, have a seat. I’ll be done in a minute.”

She takes off her shoes at the doorway before stepping into the living area, glancing around wordlessly. You hope she doesn’t mind the mess on the coffee table, even if it’s only receipts, newspapers and some blister packs you keep forgetting to throw out. Normal, mundane things. You haven’t had the time or drive to organise your place lately. You wish you did. For anything in general, really.

You’re surprised how stable your hands are this time around as you carry the tray towards where she’s sitting on the couch. She takes the mug with a barely audible thanks and you take your own. The couch isn’t small by any means. It’s old, yes, but it’s more than enough to seat two people. For some reason, it feels like it’s smaller. You’re close enough that your knees brush against each other. You try not to think about how this is the closest you’ve ever physically been to someone in years.

You almost want to scoff at that. It’s never occurred to you (or rather, you prefer not to think about it) how deprived you are of warmth and contact. Every day consists of you passively following a monotonous routine. People like you don’t get the chance to be close to someone, physically and emotionally, not when they can be taken away from you in the blink of an eye. You should be used to it by now.

You don’t think you can ever be.

“Is it okay?” Your voice is soft, hesitant. “It’s not too sweet?”

“It’s fine.”

You don’t know if Quanxi is one for small talk. You highly doubt it, but still, you find yourself chattering away. You talk about almost forgetting your keys in the morning, about how friendly your neighbours are despite their intimidating appearance, about the dog that greets you every morning and every time you come back.

Self-consciousness suddenly threatens to consume you whole when you catch how much you’ve been rambling in your flustered state. You can’t tell if she’s actually listening or if she’s only humming and nodding along so you’d stop eventually. Maybe you should.

The sudden silence makes her look at you curiously. “What’s wrong?”

“I, ah, nothing.” You shake your head. “I forgot what I was going to say.”

“You were talking about your last mission,” she offers. You’re almost disappointed that she had been listening to you. “The bodyguard one.”

You didn’t expect that.

“Right… I’m sorry, Miss Quanxi. I didn’t realise how long I’ve been keeping you here. Would you like me to see you out?”

“I don’t mind. You sound interesting.” She places the cup down and leans back against the cushions, getting herself comfortable. You aren’t sure if you should take it as a compliment or something. “And Quanxi is fine. I’m not Kishibe.”

“Of course! I’m sorry, Miss—I mean, Quanxi.”

Names have always been important to you; hers isn’t any different. But as her name rolls off your tongue, you find that you like how it feels. Familiar, like you’ve been saying it for years. In the back of your mind, you wonder if she knows your name—she hasn’t uttered it once since she spotted you outside the bar.

Somehow, that makes you sadder than you should be.

“You live alone?” she asks. Your mind goes blank for a moment. Is she interested in you? No, that can’t be. She’s just making conversation. She probably pities you for the fact that you’re the only one doing the talking.

“I do. Have been since I was seventeen,” you say, cutting off your train of thought before it gets worse. “I don’t have a girlfriend either.”

You don’t realise what you’ve blurted out until Quanxi hums curiously.

Why did you say that? Why do you say anything?

“You don’t?”

“No,” you mumble. You avert your gaze to the side, nervousness taking hold of you once more. “Are you… Interested? In me?”

When you finally look back at her, her face is only inches away from yours. You stare at her wide-eyed. A myriad of emotions swirls deep in your chest as you stutter and stammer, your lips parting then closing like a fish out of water.

“Maybe,” she answers, and the apology you were going to say dies on your tongue.

Your heart is threatening to burst out of your chest with how fast it thumps in the confines of your ribcage. Despite the winter outside, it feels hot—you feel hot, like you’re standing by a burning flame. You think you’ve short-circuited when she gently tilts your head up with her fingers and leans in to kiss you with a softness usually reserved for a lover.

And because you never think twice, you don’t hesitate to comply when she urges you to sit on her lap. Your arms wrap around her neck and it doesn’t take long before the kiss turns more heated, before you start grinding against her. Cold digits trail across your skin and crawl between your thighs, smoothly unbuttoning your trousers to reveal what they’re searching for.

Hesitantly, you pull away to catch your breath. You can hardly understand what’s happening, and maybe you don’t have to, but there’s a deep longing to hear it directly from her.

“Miss Quanxi!” Whatever you’re trying to say gets interrupted with a gasp as her fingers dip past the waistband of your panties. “What are you—”

“Helping you relax,” she replies nonchalantly. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how tense you’ve been since we got here.”

You’re not sure you can handle seeing how attentively she’s watching your expressions right now, so you squeeze your eyes shut. It doesn’t help, not when you can feel everything at once, from her heated expression to her sinfully adept fingers.

There’s a voice in the back of your mind telling you that this is wrong, unfair, but when she brushes over a spot that has you shivering against her hand, the thought ebbs away like it was never there at all.

You don’t want her to stop.

Maybe the strange heavy feeling within your chest is just anxiety from not being in a situation like this for a long time. Maybe it’s what your classmates used to call ‘butterflies in your stomach’ because you’re with someone you admire. Reason slips out of your reach with every curl of her fingers against your walls, and it’s almost embarrassing how quickly you’re reaching the edge. The sight of her doing something to you that only lovers do to each other isn’t helping your case, either.

Her name leaves your lips in a pathetic whine. “Quanxi—”

“Let go,” she murmurs, her lips brushing against your cheek, “Let me take care of you.”

Your orgasm washes over you like the sea crashes against the shore, rendering you breathless and teary-eyed from how overwhelming everything feels. She doesn’t relent until you weakly wrap your hand around her wrist in a poor attempt to stop her from breaking you any further. She eventually pulls her hand away and brings her fingers up to your mouth, imperceptibly smiling at how you take them in without question. Seemingly satisfied, she withdraws and lets you slump against her body, tuckered out and boneless.

“Look at you,” she coos, her voice dripping with endearment. She’s probably used to saying these things and getting these reactions, and as bitter as you may feel about it, they have your heart racing nonetheless. You’re not used to praise. In your entire life, you’ve only been satisfactory, yet here she is praising you for doing nothing except surrender yourself to her. You part your lips to speak, only to be interrupted.

“Don’t worry about me.”

It’s almost worrisome how she can tell what’s on your mind so effortlessly. With a huff, you bury your face in the crook of her shoulder. You doubt you can look her in the eye without saying or doing something embarrassing.

“But…” you mumble out.

“I can take care of myself.”

You frown, though you don’t argue with the finality in her tone. Your body gradually relaxes as she runs her fingers up and down the length of your spine. It’s getting difficult to stay awake when you feel so sated, so safe. Eventually, without realising it, your blinking slows down and you start to drift off in her arms, growing blissfully unaware of the world around you.

—

You wake up in your bed dressed in yesterday’s clothes.

Quanxi must’ve carried you here before she left. Your vision slowly adjusts to the change in lighting as you look out the window by your side. It seems that people have already gotten their day started, judging from the cars moving down the road and the dogs barking in response to the disturbance they bring. You’re groggy and your thoughts are unclear, leaving you more wearied than you’d normally be. A dull ache rings in your head, growing stronger when you push yourself out of bed and trudge to the bathroom to freshen up.

Your mind feels like it’s shrouded with fog. You’re beginning to think going to the bar yesterday was a mistake. You tend not to dwell too much on the consequences of what you do, only what satisfies you in that moment. It’s a bad habit you can’t seem to get rid of. But it’s far too early to think—in fact, you’d rather not do it at all—so you clumsily grab the shower valve and let the water wash away yesterday’s events. It takes a couple of tries to find it, but you make it nonetheless. A curse escapes you at the unexpected cold that has you jolting awake against your will. You suppose you did need that rude awakening.

The word ‘mistake’ seems to echo in your mind louder and louder as you struggle to properly button up your shirt with sluggish hands. You’re pretty sure one of your socks is mismatched, but you don’t really have the energy to change them. You glance at the bottle of painkillers in your cabinet. You never quite liked taking these things even if they’re supposed to help you. You didn’t like having ‘too much’ in your system. A bit ironic, considering all the supplements and medication you’ve had in your lifetime.

Bitterly, you take them. You can’t have something so inane affect your efficiency at work.

The headquarters is already busy when you arrive. Camaraderie isn’t a thing here, so the atmosphere already feels stiff and awkward. You suppose it’s reasonable, having gone through a few losses yourself. In a world like this, you simply can’t get attached to anyone. You shouldn’t. After all, they can be ripped out of your hands, ripped apart until the only proof of their existence is their blood stained on your skin. It’s not ‘hating the world’ or ‘being unapproachable;’ it’s a way to protect the other person. In a way, it protects you too.

Your mind reels back to last night now that you’re more awake. The way she held you. The way she just knew your body like the back of her hand. The way she kissed you. Only lovers touch each other like that, your mother used to tell you, but you’re not lovers even if it felt like it. The intimate moments you shared threaten to bring tears to your eyes as they play through your mind again like a film reel. The memory of her lips against your skin, of her holding you as if you were made of porcelain. They’re likely nothing to her, but they’re everything to you.

So how are you meant to brush off something like that so easily? When you’ve never had or let anyone touch you in such a way? What is it about her that had you caving in without a second thought? What is it about her that has your emotions going into overdrive?

The coffee nearly burns your tongue and leaves behind a bitter aftertaste in your mouth. Now isn’t the time to be thinking about this. And sure, maybe the coffee wasn’t a good idea either, but what does it matter? All you have to do is work, hopefully stay alive, and come back to a boring life after a long day of saving the city. What happened last night was only a one-time thing. There’s no reason to mull over it again.

You unceremoniously toss the paper cup into the trash. Coffee was not a good idea.

The day, although surprisingly uneventful, is spent writing reports and being in the worst mood you’ve ever been in. Thankfully you didn’t need to talk to anyone, save for Kishibe who dropped by earlier to see if you were still alive.’ It was oddly kind of him to do. You’re more used to him being distant or plain merciless like he was to the chainsaw boy and the blood fiend. It’s nice to have someone look for you, think of you, even if it’s for such a grim reason.

You were tidying up for the day when your coworker approached you with a smile on her face. ‘Do you wanna come get drinks with us?’ she had asked. Seeing as you didn’t have plans for the rest of the evening—you never do—you agreed. A couple of drinks won’t hurt.

It’s not that difficult to spot your colleagues and seniors in the izakaya. It’s hard to miss them, actually, when one of them is excitedly calling your name and waving you over. They’re already drunk. You understand them, you think. You generally dislike feeling inebriated and what comes after, but with the current path you’re on, it’s the only source of comfort you have.

You grimace. You really have become your father.

The table is cluttered with beer cans and unfinished plates of snacks. Kishibe sits silently in the corner. He’s opted to bring his own drink this time around and barely acknowledges you with a glance. There are a couple other seniors you don’t recognise. With a bow that feels more perfunctory than it does respectful, you greet them and quietly slide into the booth.

Quanxi sits across from you, calm and collected like always. She doesn’t say hello to you with the same enthusiasm that her colleagues had, though she does nod and subtly raise her glass at you. Flustered, you blink, you purse your lips, and then finally you get it together and smile at her, the same way one would when seeing an old friend. Sure, that isn’t what she is, she’s just your senior, but you’d rather stay on her good side. You’ve seen how she dealt with that Hirofumi boy when they both came back last year. As attractive as you found it, you also don’t want to end up being someone she regards coldly.

You shake your head. Why are you worrying so much about what she’d think of you? All she did was acknowledge your presence. Luckily, one of your colleagues (someone you recognise, thank god) notices you and starts to ask all about your day. It’s enough to keep you busy. It’s also surprising you aren’t drained yet, considering how much more talkative they are compared to you.

“This is why I’m trying to help you out of your shell!” they playfully chide once you trail off, feeling self-conscious. “We want to get to know you better! Don’t be shy. Come on, tell me. What have you been up to?”

“I’ve been—”

Whatever phrase you were thinking of immediately goes forgotten when you feel someone’s foot brush against your ankle. You’re nearly seized with panic before you make eye contact with Quanxi and realise that it’s her doing. Somehow, it doesn’t do much to calm your racing heart. She seems so nonchalant, casually smoking her cigarette as if she isn’t threatening to make a mess of you with something so simple.

They furrow their eyebrows in concern. “You okay?”

“Y-Yeah! Sorry,” you reply sheepishly. “I’ve been… well, busy. There’s a lot of backlog I still need to catch up on.”

Quanxi doesn’t do much after that, something you’re thankful for. Perhaps she took pity on you. Tearing your gaze away from her, you turn back to your colleague with a strained smile. You hope they won’t notice how you’ve tensed up and how your smile doesn’t reach your eyes.

“W-What about you?”

It’s even more surprising that you can still speak while feeling so tongue-tied. Your conversation partner starts to chatter away, talking about everything and nothing, which you try your best to stay invested in. It makes for quite a good distraction, and Quanxi doesn’t tease you again until your colleagues begin to leave one by one. Until you’re eventually left alone with her.

You bite the inside of your cheek nervously. Her surprising you earlier could’ve been an accident, so nothing is stopping you from going home. You should go home. It’s not like she wants you to stay, right? She’s probably waiting for you to leave so she can do the same thing. You try to think of a polite way to excuse yourself, but nothing comes to mind and the words are stuck in the back of your throat.

“You’re thinking too much.”

You’re sober. Sober enough to be able to function, but not enough to notice that Quanxi has moved to sit next to you with her hand on your thigh. She leans in close to press a kiss to your neck, an invitation. A promise. You watch as her lithe fingers teasingly skim across your inner thigh, dancing dangerously close to your core. Your eyes remain on her hand, how it feels pressed against you, so warm and perfect—

“Not here,” you breathe, “H-Home.”

The night passes by in a blur. Before you know it, she has you on her bed, your cheeks flushed and your clothes torn from your body. Everything feels warmer, stronger, and you don’t know if it’s because you’re tipsy or if it’s because you’re pent up, but it doesn’t matter. You can’t think of anything, not when she keeps taking your breath away time and time again with every roll of her hips. Moans and broken syllables of her name leave your lips, doused in lust and whatever remaining modesty you have left.

Once isn’t enough for her. Your thighs are trembling as she pushes you into the blankets, keeping a tight grip on your shoulder as the sound of her thighs slapping against yours fills the room. The lewd noises leaving your body make your cheeks burn, and you wonder if she can feel how warm they are against her thighs when she finally lets you return the favour with your tongue. You’re sloppy and unpracticed, you know you are, but when she says your name and tells you that you’re so good for her, your heart soars.

Eager to please, you stay for what feels like an hour before she has you on your back and her fingers inside you once again. She doesn’t stop until you’re a teary-eyed, trembling mess beneath her. She doesn’t stop until your voice is hoarse from how loud you’ve been. Sleep comes easy to you that night; once more, you nestle close to her side and drift off, completely spent. The same way you did last night; only this time, she doesn’t hold you.

She’s gone by the time you wake up, and her taste lingers on your tongue as you leave her apartment feeling satiated but hollow.

—

You don’t know when meeting up with Quanxi just to fuck became a regular thing, but it did.

It’s a bad idea. You know it is. Even fucking worse now that you realise that you’re no longer doing this for sexual pleasure. You’re doing it for her affection, even if it only comes with her hand around your throat or between your thighs. You know it’s a bad idea when you always leave her place feeling used. Emotions have never been your strong suit—you’re not made to think, you’re made to do—but the whirlwind and the paradox have set you a few steps back. From what, you don’t know; all you know is that you can’t move on without her, without something more from her.

It bothers you how you both go back to work and act like you don’t know each other. It bothers you how she doesn’t even notice you when you happen to walk by. It bothers you how she feels so distant even though everything you’ve ever done with her has been things only lovers do. It bothers you how much you feel like you need her to satisfy you in more ways than what she’s currently doing. It’s not meant to be something serious. You’ve known that the moment she kissed you.

A distraction is all you are. A vice, like her drinks and her cigarettes and the other women. Something she has readily available to her, and because it’s Quanxi, you let it happen. You think she’s worth the turmoil in your mind. Why wouldn’t she be? She knows your body like the back of her hand, knows what you like, knows what you need. You’ll grin and bear it, accept the love she gives you on sleepless nights, and come whenever she calls.

Work has been busy enough for the past week or two. You were sent on a mission to somewhere in the south, ordered to exterminate a cluster of fiends and granted temporary leave after one of them managed to give you a nearly fatal wound. You don’t think she even knows that you were at the hospital until you had enough blood in your veins to heal again. It’s fine. Of course it is. She’s as busy as you are, if not more, and she has her own things to worry about.

You haven’t seen her in a while. Not at work, not at the bar you frequent. It harrows and relieves you at the same time because you feel her wherever you go. You walk in crowds hoping that she’ll be among them. You stay out hours after the work day ends hoping that you’ll bump into her. You keep your ears open hoping that you’ll hear something about her, or if you’re lucky enough, hear her calling your name. You don’t know how she’s woven her existence into your life this much, nor do you know what you want from her. But it’s not that necessary to put a stop to something you need, is it?

It’s fine if she doesn’t need you for anything else beyond sex. It’s fine that your love (is it even so?) goes unreciprocated. It’s fine if you feel cold in her embrace, and it’s fine that she’ll never be yours the same way you are hers. If this is a ‘bad idea,’ then you’ll make the most out of it—anything to keep you happy, anything to please her.

As long as she still knows your name, and as long as she still wants you, it’s enough.

It’s a particularly rough day when you leave an abandoned building with blood on your sleeves. You know your job isn’t done yet. There are reports you have to write, some civilians you need to check on, but you’re not confident that you can keep your impatience and anger under control. You’re tired, miserable, and you’re wondering if those pills do help you or if you’ve been lied to again. A cold shower and coffee weren’t enough to wake you this morning. The so-called soothing balm did nothing to heal the ache in your neck, and things went downhill insanely quickly. Today’s mission was the worst one you’ve ever had. You couldn’t save your partner in time. Their life was syphoned out of their body as they cried—no, begged you to help them, and all you could do was watch it happen.

The weight of your sword on your back feels heavier when you think of your failure today. A good craftsman never blames his tools. Can you say the same thing about yourself? Your weapon is an extension of you. The blade hasn’t dulled, but you have. It makes you feel even worse to know that you aren’t competent at the one thing you can do. If you were, you could’ve saved your partner, the one before that, and the others you lost along the way. Their blood will always be on your hands no matter how much you clean them. You’re quite sure there’s still a splatter on your shirt, but you are so, so tired. Stains are the least of your concerns.

The path to the bar is more familiar than it should be. You can barely register the worried and fearful glances people send you as you walk by them, exhausted and dishevelled. Hell, the bartender isn’t even shocked when you take a seat. He’s seen you more times than he can count. Not as many while you’re looking this beat up, though he takes it well enough. Wordlessly, he brings you your regular order. He doesn’t bother you again after that.

The burn barely fazes you anymore. You settle down the glass a bit harder than you should’ve, making you wince. You don’t want another thing to go wrong today. Quite frankly, you just want it all to be over, so you can retire, rest and visit the places you’ve always wanted to go to. Maybe get married, have a family, or adopt a pet. What a normal entails isn’t that known anymore. You’ll take anything at this point.

“Rough day?”

Quanxi leans on her side against the counter, running her gaze up and down your form. It should make you feel embarrassed, what with the current state you’re in, but you don’t think you can even care anymore.

You chuckle humorlessly. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

It doesn’t occur to you until moments later that this is your first time seeing her in weeks. A part of you feels relieved to know that she’s fine, she’s here, and another part of you is in disbelief that she still wants to talk to you despite the state you’re in. You can’t decide whether that’s endearing or pitiable.

“Wanna talk about it?”

You’ve already made several bad decisions, what’s another one going to do? You can drink the whole night, or you can do something that’ll make you feel good and forget for a little while. You cut to the chase, staring down into the glass. “My place or yours?”

She blinks, bewildered, then she speaks up again, “You can come to mine.”

The world doesn’t come back to you until you’re in her apartment again, already out of breath as you try to keep up with her hungry kisses. They’re addicting, borderline overwhelming, but you always crave for more, more, more. Her hands are on your hips and tonight she touches you with a gentleness that wasn’t present in your other trysts. Her touches are featherlight, treating your body like it’s made out of glass, and for some reason unknown to you, it’s more than enough to make you break into tears.

You pull her closer, your arms wrapped around her waist as you sob into her shoulder. She doesn’t say anything, only rubs soothing circles on your back and lets you cry your heart out. Conflicting feelings make their way into your heart, holding it tight within its suffocating grasp. You want her to say something, but at the same time, you don’t. You want to ignore everything, have her make you forget, but you also don’t want to.

Then you can finally breathe. Your cries turn into sniffles. Your breathing is shakier than it should be, but it gradually calms down. Her collar is stained with your tears, marked with your vulnerability, your weakness. It’s hard to speak. The silence kills you inside, breaks down every wall you’ve put up around you. You crumble before her, your nails lightly digging into her back as she gently lays you down on the bed. You’re still holding on to her when she tries to get up.

“I’ll get you some water,” she says. You think it’s the softest she’s ever sounded. Your hand lingers on hers for a moment before you reluctantly let her go, too worn out to ask or argue.

When she comes back, she crawls into her side of the bed. No words are shared as you curl up close to her. Her heartbeat steadily lulls you to sleep while she pulls you closer with her hand on your back, tucking your head beneath her chin.

And just like last time and the time before that, you wake up alone.

Your head hurts. Your body aches all over, hurting with the smallest movement, but you manage. Some water spills when you drink, which you haphazardly wipe away with the back of your hand. The clock on the wall tells you that you’re late for work, but you’re far too weary to move. Instead, you nestle deeper into the blankets, blankly staring at the nightstand as the city continues to live without you.

She didn’t leave you a note. Why would she? She’s not your lover; she doesn’t have to tell you anything. There’s a sense of urgency in the back of you should leave too. That there’s a busy day ahead of you, there are people and families you need to get in touch with, and there’s some loose ends that you need to tie up. It will get worse the longer you stall, and yet, you can’t bring yourself to care about it.

You don’t feel anything. You want to feel happy, angry, sad, anything, but you just can’t. Not when you’re on your own and the only company you have is the quiet. You don’t feel anything unless you’re in pain. You don’t feel anything unless you drink until you black out. But with Quanxi, you feel alive. With her, you don’t feel like a machine. You don’t feel like a killer, stained in the blood of those you failed to save. You’re someone she likes, at least enough to keep around for as long as she has. You’re someone she looks for when she needs you.

It’s not love. You know it isn’t. You don’t think she’ll ever love you the same way you love her. You’re not that oblivious to ignore what this truly is—pure unadulterated lust and desire, something to relieve stress whenever it arises. Days ago you cried until you had nothing left because you wanted more. Now, you just ignore it all. If it makes you feel good in the moment, makes you feel like you’re worth something, who are you to deny it?

You know you make bad decisions, ones that lead you to consequences you deal with alone like this one. You don’t care anymore. You never think twice. It’s just how you’ve always been.

You never think twice, but as the bed gets colder, you wonder if it’s about time you did.

[doukeshi-kun]

What happens on days where Nikolai and his family go to the beach to have fun and his wife is wearing a swimsuit (not extremely revealing since their kids are there but just enough for Nikolai to go awooga)

𝙙𝙖𝙙!𝙣𝙞𝙠𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙞 + 𝙨𝙬𝙞𝙢𝙨𝙪𝙞𝙩

replies ⨳ i love this sm I LOVE

contents ⨳ fem!reader, babymama!reader, oc kids (yuri, mari, karol), fluff, suggestive

“Karol.”

Karol coos sadly as Nikolai ties the lace of the boy's beach shorts. Yuri is standing by his side, already wearing his blue swimsuit. Karol wants to mimic his dad, so he insists on just wearing a pair of shorts.

“You already put on your sunscreen, Yurochka?” Nikolai asks before he stands up, looking at himself in the mirror. His loose white shirt is unbuttoned fully and his sunglasses are resting on his head. He adjusts his grey swim trunks before he gives the sunscreen on the sink to Karol.

“Here you go, Karol. Your turn.”

Karol grins as he takes the sunscreen. Nikolai then grabs the bag that holds the rest of his and his kids' belongings before leading them out of the men's restroom. He holds Yuri's hand as Karol is trailing closely by Yuri's side.

“Where's mom? And Mari?” Yuri asks when they are already at the beach, with Nikolai laying a mat on the sand, under the shadow of a tree. Nikolai smiles at Yuri — always looking out for people he cherishes. He pats Yuri's head, messing with the boy's hair.

“Mama and Mari are probably still in the restroom, Yurochka. They know where to find us. And Karol! Why are you white?”

Karol looks at Nikolai, confused — his face is completely covered with sunscreen, an excessive amount of it too. Yuri scrunches his face, seeing Karol's proud face as the little gremlin makes an 'X' gesture with his arms, aimed at the sun.

“Extra protection! Sun is ev— waaa!”

He whines when Nikolai starts to rub his face, making sure the sunscreen is applied evenly to his face and neck. Karol tries to fight Nikolai's hands but his effort is clearly futile against his own dad.

“Hey.”

Karol stops resisting immediately. He pouts but he lets Nikolai do what he wants. Yuri is already sitting, looking around to look for his sister and mother, sometimes watching his dad apply some sunscreen on Karol's back.

As soon he turns to his right, he sees you and Mari walking towards him. Mari gets excited quickly and runs towards them, immediately lunging herself on Nikolai who still does not notice you are coming.

“Papa!”

“Oh!” Nikolai turns around quickly and his smile gets broader once he sees his little princess, adorable in a pink and yellow swimsuit. She also has a small beach hat on her head.

“You look cute, malyshka.” Nikolai smiles, pinching Mari's cheek lightly. Mari happily twirls and shows her twin braids.

“Mom did it for me!”

“Is that so?” Nikolai chuckles. “Seems like your braiding skill has...” his words falter when he turns his head towards you. His eyes widen as they travel your whole body, up and down multiple times.

“Mari! Let's build our sand empire!” Karol is quick to drag Mari to leave the shade and to the beach. Yuri stands on his feet quickly and follows his two little siblings, warning them to not go far. You only watch the kids leave you and your husband in the shadow as they are now having fun at the beach.

“My goodness, Karol is just too excited, isn't he?” you comment as you finally sit beside your husband. You turn to Nikolai and realize that he is very much staring at you — from head to toe.

“Kolya?”

“Mm...”

“Do I look too pretty?” you ask, clutching the long tropical robe you wore over your white one-piece swimsuit. Nikolai's eyes twitch at your assumption before he shakes his head, smiling slyly.

“You look sexy, gorgeous.”

“Oh, you...” you shyly nudge his face to the side. Nikolai chuckles at your touch as he turns his face to you again. “Not going to lie though... It feels a bit too tight right here,” you mumble as you fix the fabric beneath your breasts and of course your husband would shamelessly stare. Your breasts do get bigger after three pregnancies after all and Nikolai loves that.

“Yeah? Like this? Want me to fix it?” Nikolai grins as his hand reaches that part, purposely nudging your breasts so they shake a bit. You slap his hand away lightly, only making him laugh.

“You're such a pervy,” you mumble, slapping his thigh, which makes Nikolai groan lowly, covering his mouth in frustration. He feels extremely bothered and giddy — who wouldn't feel so when your sexy wife is by your side?

“You're driving me crazy, love.”

Nikolai could not keep his hand to himself as he holds your thigh, squeezing it lightly. “You're so pretty, love. I just can't,” he says, leaning closer. But you are quick to halt his advance by placing a hand on his bare toned chest.

“Baby, please, just a kiss.” he pouts.

You laugh softly, only making Nikolai smile more. Your hand that is on his chest trails up to his chin. You pull him closer, pecking his lips shortly.

“There. Now go check on the kids. Mari and Yuri are burying Karol in the sand now.”

Nikolai grins. “Yes, ma'am.”

He stands and wears his sunglasses back. Before he walks to his kids, he immediately seizes your jaw, bringing your face upward only to plant a kiss on your lips, a bit longer than before. Your giggle muffled by the kiss only makes him smirk against your lips.

“Just you wait tonight, love.”

©doukeshi-kun 2023 — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, more @cherikolya

if you like my works, consider buy me a ko-fi!

[beannoss]

with you, all in tangles (+1)

3 times Yor blows kisses to Twilight and one time Twilight blows a kiss to Yor

For the @twiyorbase fluff fest! No content warnings, T-rating; manga spoilers. One chapter per day matching the daily prompts. Today's prompt: I choose you and me. Li'l bit of spice towards the end of this one. <- Part two (2) | Part four (3, final part) ->

Standing anxiously by the dining table, Yor fretted, looking at Yuri through the serving hatch into the kitchen where he was busy with — something. She wasn't even sure what challenge he’d given Twilight this time around, only that it wasn't going as Yuri wanted.

It never did. Always doomed to failure. Twilight had at least a decade’s experience on Yuri, countless undercover missions where he’d learned countless and often quite random skills… Yor sighed. She didn’t blame Yuri, not really. He didn’t know the truth about Twilight. And the circumstances of their marriage were strange. But also it had been months now (!) and would this just be what it was like for the rest of their lives?!

Yuri had turned his back on Twilight to do something, and Twilight took the opportunity to catch her attention. He raised an eyebrow at her, and Yor's eyes widened. She resisted the urge to cover her face with her hands, mouthed desperately, I'm so sorry! 

But Twilight shook his head, mouthed, It's all right, Yor, back to her. She tried to make her face into an expression that would show she believed him, but going by the way the furrow between his brows had appeared, she obviously failed.

As she tried to think of what to do — how could she end this when Yuri tried to keep her out of it? Even though it was apparently about caring (?) for (??) her (???) ?! —

Twilight glanced at Yuri, still facing away, and then Twilight…

Twilight winked at her. Raised his hand to his lips, kissed his fingers, and blew her the kiss.

Pure shining delight bubbled through her. She covered her mouth but still a giggle escaped. She couldn't fight her smile. Oh, but she loved him so dearly. Twilight flashed a grin, his eyes twinkling at her, and he winked again just as Yuri whirled around.

"Why are you smiling like that?" he demanded of Yor. "Why are you blushing?!" He turned on Twilight: "What's with that smug expression?!" Yor glanced at Twilight, who was looking near-perfectly neutral once more, and what emotion he allowed to bleed through would be better described as long-suffering than smug.

But Yuri wasn't done. Something occurred to him, making him blanch, nearly shouting, "Were you doing something lewd?!"

"Yuri!" It was rare Yor lost her temper fully with him, but any time he commented on her intimacy with Twilight — which admittedly, Yuri's comments were older than their intimacy, older than any of their intimacies, particularly in the context of how long their marriage had supposedly existed. But all of the intimacies she shared with Twilight were still just a little bit tender, and they were sweet, and so very, very hard won for them both, and that made everything all the more precious to her! She didn't like Yuri implying the physical things they did together were bad, or sordid, or something to be embarrassed or ashamed about — !

This was overdue, she knew it was, but Yuri would just need to learn, even if her lesson was coming late. "That’s enough, Yuri! If you can't keep your rude questions to yourself, then you have to go!"

He immediately turned contrite, but Yor remembered these kinds of turns from when he had started to test boundaries in adolescence. If she relented now, again, he would never stop. She had already relented far too often. 

"No," Yor took careful hold of his shoulders and guided him to the door as he begged her forgiveness. But that was part of the problem, wasn't it? Only trying to do right by her, never ever making any attempt with Twilight. Never understanding that now to do right by her, he needed to respect her husband, too. She put her foot down. "You can come back when you have an apology for Loid."

"Aw, Siiiiiiis!"

"Out!"

Leaning against the door shut behind him, she heard Yuri muttering in the hall, arguing with himself about apologizing, before finally swearing and stomping away. She sighed. She didn't want to stay like this for long... Yes. She would go visit him tomorrow, and have a proper conversation. As it was…

Yor looked over at Twilight, who had come to the edge of the kitchen, watching her. He raised his eyebrows at her — Are you okay? —

"I’m sorry," she said in lieu of answering the unspoken question. "I don't know why he gets so worked up."

But he waved off her apology, and didn't press her for an answer. Instead, after a short pause, he said thoughtfully, "Something lewd..."

"Oh god. I really am sorry."

"No, I mean, I think he was onto something."

"Eh?" Yor blinked. Then looked more closely at Twilight.

The exasperation was gone. His eyes were still twinkling at her like they had when he’d blown her the kiss, and with that memory came a renewed bubble of joy that brought fresh warmth to her cheeks. And... beneath the twinkle in his eyes, there was a rising intent she recognized, that her body immediately responded to. She bit her lip, shifting her weight as the space between them charged. His tongue appeared, wet his lips as soon as her eyes fell to his mouth.

He made a show of checking his watch when Yor took a step towards him. "Yuri's left early,” he said, reaching for her, “Anya won't be home for another fifty minutes," his voice was low and inviting. He pulled her close. "Time enough for one or two lewd things."

Yor stretched her arms up around his neck. “Do you have any ideas?”

Twilight ducked his head, whispered in her ear, heat spilling through her as he answered. “What do you think?” he murmured, warm breath dusting her neck, his hands slipping under the fabric of her sweater.

“Hmmmm.” Her breath hiccuped when his fingers glanced up the line of her spine. She rose to her toes, whispered her own ideas in his ear as he bowed his head to her.

Twilight cleared his throat, leaned back a little, holding her waist. “We're at an impasse of good ideas.”

Yor pulled her arms back, skimmed her hands over the rounds of his shoulders. “Should we negotiate?”

“Something lewd from both sides?”

“Something adult,” she suggested, tracing her fingers just under the band of his trousers.

“Something wicked.” His thumbs pressing circles into the skin of her sides, distracting.

Yor was a little breathless, “Something fun.”

Twilight let out a soft breath. “I was taking fun for granted.” He sounded so assured, so at ease, so tempting. With a rush of hungry affection, Yor surged up onto her toes, sunk one of her hands into his hair to keep him close, and kissed him deeply.

His arms around her waist, Twilight mumbled, "Forty-three minutes now," into the kiss, and Yor broke away.

"Oh no," she breathed, "And we still have to negotiate." She laughed, leaning back, trusting his hold.

Twilight kissed the underside of her jaw. "I think I'll acquiesce to all demands," he murmured, mouthing down her throat.

"Oh! Well tha—ah! Twilight — that's not very f-fair to you —"

"Yor," Twilight sighed impatiently.

What am I thinking?! "You're right!" Immediately extracting herself from his hold, she took his hand. “Thank you for being so generous in defeat,” she added, pulling him along as she hurried towards their bedroom.

“Mmm, only this time,” Twilight qualified lightly, following close, the fingers of his free hand warm with pressure on her lower back.

“Ooh, I look forward to being thoroughly bested next time then,” she replied brightly, tripping into their room when he crowded up behind her. With a breathless laugh, Yor reached around Twilight to close the door after them.

Part four (3, final part) ->