#is just 'who are YOU- oh snow white hello'

[coichii]

LIGHTS ON ✭

—(🎧)—> the first flight went smooth, landing swiftly in Melbourne on a layover to Sydney to visit your wonderful long distance boyfriend. when the cold, wintery weather freezes up, turns out it’ll be a while before you see him again.

pairing - longdistance!bf!felix x fem!reader

genre - fluff & comfort (what a shocker)

word count - 1.8k (yk how I said it was gonna be rlly short..nvm! I was thinking like..barely 1k☠️)

warnings - cursing & that’s it!

series note : hello !! welcome to part six of my winter series, “winter records of love” where there will be 8 individual short stories for each member :) these stories are based off of songs I deem “winter” feeling ! this story is based off of “lights on” by Tyler, the creator. enjoy <3

Seeing your long distance boyfriend after what felt like years despite it only being months was blissful.

You always missed him. Missed his warm smile, adorable freckles, kind & loving words, and everything more. Missing him was all you did at this point.

So when you got a text from your boyfriend last month saying he’ll pay for your ticket to come visit him and his family, you couldn’t have been more happy. Ecstatic even.

You’re not surprised when you find yourself smiling at nothing on the flight to Melbourne, looking out the window at the beautiful, vast ocean of waves.

The excitement bubbled in your stomach. It’s always so nice to visit him and his family. His mother is always so caring, his father is funny and kind, and his sisters are entertaining and hilarious.

You loved seeing him most of all though. His warm kisses that you missed resonated on your cheek as you thought about him, warmth rising on rosy red cheeks.

You always visited him around this time, when the rain froze into snow. You remembered how he would always wrap his warm scarf around your neck, pulling you into his warm side.

“Plane is now descending into Melbourne. Please at this time, fasten your seatbelts and put up your food trays.” A voice over the intercom sounded, filling your heart with even more excitement.

It would be only a matter of time before you see him again.

◂—♥︎—▸

“What! What do you mean our flight is delayed!” A voice, angry bellowed from beside you. Delayed? What do you mean the flights delayed?

“Sir, calm down. As soon as the blizzard passes, we will board and take off for Sydney.” An attendee ushered, going back to talk with other worried staff.

Now that you think about it, you haven’t picked up your head from your phone much since you arrived, nor have you taken in your surroundings really.

You spare a glance to the side with a huge window and your eyes widen in shock.

The sky, runway, honestly everything, is completely white. All you see is snow absolutely overrunning the airport.

Yeah, there’s no flying in this.

Beep beep! Your phone sounds as you process everything. Looking down at it, you see an incoming call from felix and pick it up.

“Hey baby! How’s everything going!” You hear his voice on the other end of the phone. “You’re about to start boarding, right?”

“Ha.” You dryly chuckle. “It just got delayed. There’s a horrible blizzard...” You explain, voice trickling off at the end.

You play with your hands nervously as the people besides you get nervous, calling their families and telling them they won’t be able to make it intime for Christmas.

It’s hard to not let it get to you, causing you your own form of anxiety. If you can’t see him this holiday, you’re not sure what you’re going to do.

“Oh, that sucks, baby. I hope it clears up soon.” He pouts. You can’t see it of course, but you can hear it in his voice.

“Yeah I know. Sorry about it though.” You mumble, guilt sinking in. It’s been forever since you’ve seen him and he’s the one who payed for your ticket. This is the worst case scenario at this point.

“Hey, no no. Don’t apologize for something that isn’t your fault.” His voice was soft and reassuring, comforting you from your mind, which was slowly drowning you in guilt.

“Okay, ba-“ you were cut off by the sound of a speaker. You look around to find an atendee standing with a mic in her hand, an uneasy look on her face.

“Unfortunately, it is loooking like this plane won’t be taking off until tomorrow.” A collective groaning was heard. “Please come check in and we will offer our complimentary rooms to stay in.”

You were in complete shock, and so was everyone else. Until tomorrow? Could the weather actually be that bad?

“Hey, love? What’s going on?” He asked, weirded out by the sudden cut off of your voice. “Everything okay?”

“Uhm, no.” You replied, voice quivering slightly. “We have to stay overnight, I’m going to be so late.”

He notices the shiver in your voice, heart breaking at the sound of a slight sniffle. He knows you hate disappointing him, and he wants you to know that you’re not.

“Hey, angel. Don’t you worry about it, it can’t be helped. We’ll still be waiting for you, okay?” His warm voice felt like a comforting blanket being placed over your shoulders, comforting you in a secure and safe hold.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll call you tomorrow, baby. I’m sorry, I love you.” You respond as your cheeks turn red. You try to convince yourself it’s the bitter cold rushing in from the outside, but you know better.

“Don’t apologize, y/n. I love you too, good night, sweet girl.”

You hang up and make your way to your room, slamming your luggage that you had received onto the wall before plopping down on the bed.

Man, you can’t wait until this plane can take off.

◂—♥︎—▸

Turns out, you’re going to have to suck up those wishes.

You woke up this morning to absolute pandemonium. Angry people shouting at any staff member they saw, spewing their anger for something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“How are we supposed to go home if the flight is cancelled?” A young woman’s voice screamed, and your heart dropped to your stomach.

Cancelled?? Wait wait wait… that can’t be?

“We apologize for the inconvenience.” A robotic voice started over the speakers. “All flights departing have been cancelled until further notice. Please prepare to leave within the next twelve hours.”

You can’t believe it. You need to leave within twelve hours. Not only are you not going to be able to visit, but your stranded in a foreign country for who knows long just because of some stupid snow.

You can feel the tears swelling up in your eyes, them beginning to slowly tip over your bottom eyelid.

You go to the only sense of comfort you have left; Felix.

“Hey, baby!” He chirps, the phone only having to ring twice. “On your way?”

“I wish I could say that.” You dryly chuckle, and he can immediately tell that it holds no humor behind it.

“Baby? What wrong, is everything okay?” He asked, voice soft and comforting.

“It’s cancelled. I don’t know what to do or where to go, Lix.” You voice cracked, tears rolling down harder as your breathing unevened.

“Hey, listen. Everything is going to be okay. You can get a hotel and get the closest flight out of there, but don’t cry please. It’s all going to be okay.” He tried to comfort, but it mostly ricocheted off of you and fell on deaf ears.

“I’ll try the hotel, but the first flight to Melbourne is sold out, I heard about it before I called you. I’m stuck here.” Your voice trembles, the feeling of hopelessness creeping its way up your spine.

It feels like being in a forest at dark, owning a compass but it not spinning around the way it does. It feels like nothing is going to save you.

“My love, I need you to listen to me.”

Your ears lock on to his voice, paying the upmost attention to the soft yet firm tone of his words.

“Everything is going to be okay. You’re going to get yourself a hotel, and I’m going to figure something out for you soon, okay? You’ll be fine, I promise you.”

You can feel his words warming up your stomach like a pot of hot soup; comforting and home like.

And that’s what he always felt like to you.

◂—♥︎—▸

Knock knock knock! The loud sound echos off the hollow wooden door of the room.

You had booked a room at a nearby hotel, noticing multiple familiar faces from the airport staying there as well. It was a little tricky, but you eventually got settled at a room on the 3rd floor and hoisted all your luggage up there.

You must have fallen asleep there, because the time all of a sudden jumped from 11am to 5pm from when you had layed your head down.

Cautious, you make your way to the door, not forgetting to peer through the peephole first.

And then, you saw him.

“Felix!! Is that really fucking you?!” You shouted, heart blasting with joy and love after you opened the door. You practically shoved your body into him, laughing at a slight ‘oof’ sound he made when he hit the back wall.

“Yes it’s me, darling.” He coos at your incoming tears before quickly moving to wipe them away.

“H-how’d you come here so fast?” You whimpered, checking and touching his face as if to check if he was real and not a made up figment of imagination.

“I came just as soon as you hung up, i told you I’d figure something out, didn’t I?” He explained. You observed the love sick look in his eyes, wondering how somebody could be such an angel.

Wondering how you got so lucky with him.

“I’m so happy baby, I seriously love you so fucking much.” You said, finally letting go of him and ushering him into your cramped room.

“I love you too, princess. It was no problem.”

“No problem? The drive is eight hours!” You chucked, cuddling into him from where he had taken a seat on the small couch.

“Well, yeah. But it’s worth it for you.” He whispered, stating this as if was just some small thing he had did hold the door open for you.

But it was so much more. No one had ever shown you that they cared for you like this.

Ever.

“Let’s take a rest here for the night then we can go back to Sydney, yeah.” He suggested, and you jumped.

“Wait wait, you’re still taking me to Sydney? You don’t think that’s too much for you, babe?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing in slight concern.

“No, silly. You came here to see me and my family and that’s what you will do.” He giggled, pressing kisses over your cheeks and smiling at your reddening face.

All you could do was look at him, the most fond, loving look in your eyes.

Wow, this is definitely the man you’re going to marry.

[flovverworks]

ignore the pixels i dont wanna deal w/ it, but first gbf gives me acrylic a mimir bag and then mhyk releases the may bday cards and as much as i think snow n white are RLY cute in it the fact they look EVEN younger is SO funny for me. still laughing about it like theyre SO baby. their entire concept of '2k yo+ wizard looking like 10yos' is so funny Because of times like that one figaro story where he talks about how they (the twins n figaro) wants to get Other reactions than just 'uuu scary uuu' n being scolded is fun n this n that (very broadly paraphrased but if uve seen it U KNOW). like the entire thing of them just Constantly looking like kids (cant for the life of me rmbr which form is their tru 'this-is-where-we-stopped-aging-form) and very rarely using their adult one (whcih is ALSO funny cuz i feel like that gives its (sometimes) role of 'being intimidating' more weight too (<-even if the timeline is Technically jsut One year. but anyway)), its just SO funny to me to see especially snows card. everything is ssooooooo babi.............so funny its rly cute i lov the bow i rly do

im gonna ramble more instead of breaking this into posts but ALSO because akira? comes from a place where immortal beings Does Not Exist (in the same manner/as openly!!!!!!!!!) so the twins Especially is a constant jumpscare in 'oh fuck right ure NOT 9 year old'. akira IS aware of it. DOES know it in their heart. and while i think they get a bit more used to it closer to the end, at the start its. very difficult. but snow n white also cares for akira in their actions and akira takes a lot of comfort in that and trust them a lot in general. akira wont treat them as kids, but when they start talking about REALLY old stuff or evil things theyve done its kinda. jumpscare. in the same way during that one event where figaro talked about what he had done to some wizard many years ago and akira had such a 'oh right ure OLD and NORTHERN' whiplash

also lennox. lennox..........................................augh i love his card

[egophiliac]

Wait, did you put a photo of Vil and Neige as kids in Eric’s office??

oh good, I was afraid that wasn't going to read properly and people would just be like "what is this supposed to be". :') but yeah! I like to think Eric was pretty fond of Neige as a kid! single dad sees orphan child approximately the same age as his own son and goes "hmm. okay, you guys are going to be friends now." (this did not go as well as he'd hoped.)

(also I do love how it's kind of a running joke that everyone loves Neige except for Vil, who's standing over in the corner and just seething with furious irrational hatred. someday maybe he'll find someone who doesn't think Neige is the best thing since cinnamon rolls.)

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Under the Mistletoe 2

SUMMARY: You told your classmates about Christmas and the tradition of kissing under the mistletoe. But what if it's someone else helping you get a kiss from your crush? Or your crush trying to get a kiss from you? Or even prevent you from kissing someone else?

CHARACTERS: Scarabia (Kalim; Jamil); Pomefiore (Vil; Epel; Rook); Ignihyde (Idia + Ortho) & Diasomnia (Malleus; Silver; Sebek; Lilia)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Kissing

WORD COUNT: An average of 390 words per character.

COMMENTS: As I believe some characters would be more direct and others would try to beat around the bush some have more words than others for this reason.

The Ignihyde part is the longest because it's Idia and Ortho together. With Ortho is platonic of course, he just gives you a present, Idia is the one under the mistletoe.

I hope you all enjoy and have a Merry Christmas. 🎁

Under the Mistletoe 1 - Heartslabyul (Riddle, Ace; Deuce; Cater; Trey); Savanaclaw (Leona; Jack; Ruggie) & Octavinelle (Azul; Jade; Floyd)

CONTEXT: As the end of the year approaches and the snow begins to fall, you comment to your schoolmates that it is reminding you of a holiday that exists in your world called Christmas. They get curious and ask you more about it, you talk about the gifts, the tree, getting the family together, etc.

Until Cater asks if there wouldn't be any romantic traditions on such a cute holiday, and the first thing that comes to your mind is the tradition of two people having to kiss if they both happen to be under a mistletoe or holly.

You even say that there are people who purposely place mistletoe in a strategic spot to attract the person they want to kiss and pretend it was an accident. A very popular Christmas romance troupe.

Cater was the one who told Kalim what you said about Christmas, and consequently about the mistletoe tradition. But that wasn't what he was thinking about the time he went to visit you at Ramshackle Dorm.

“HEY [Y/N]!” He greets you with his radiant smile. “Happy... um... what was the name of that holiday you told Cater about again?”

You say it's called Christmas and the greeting is ‘Merry Christmas’.

“Merry Christmas! Wait, I don't know if it's today... It isn’t? Then let me know when it is so I can wish you one, okay? Cater told me you felt a little homesick when you remembered that holiday and about the tradition of exchanging gifts. So I wanted to give you one to cheer you up.”

He hands you a present wrapped in shiny paper. You thank him and accept, but say you don't have a gift for him.

“Oh, don't worry about that. Seeing you smile is already the best gift you can give me.”

You open the gift, it's a turquoise cardigan with white jasmine flowers.

“It is of great quality and excellent for keeping you warm. That's what Jamil said. He helped me choose a gift for you and said the best one would be something that would help you during these cold days. Did you like it?”

You say that you did and show that by trying it right away.

“It looks so good on you! And makes you look even cuter than usual.” He smiles innocently.

You two hear a sound above you, look up, and see a ghost's hand holding a sprig of mistletoe above your heads.

“Mistletoe? Cater had mentioned something about this but I don't remember what it was about. It's another tradition of your holiday, isn't it? What does it mean?”

You tell him about the kiss under the mistletoe. He smiles widely and blushes a little.

“I don't mind kissing you at all! I mean... I would even like to. If you want to do it too of course.”

You confirm and you move closer to each other. You will be able to feel his smile during the kiss.

Ace was the one who told Jamil about the things you said about Christmas, at the last basketball club meeting before winter break. He took advantage of the first opportunity he had to go to Ramshackle Dorm while Kalim was at the Pop Music Club.

“Hello, [Y/N].” Jamil greets you when you open the door. “I heard about the holiday you have in your world this time of year and that you were feeling a little homesick. How are you today?”

You say you're fine, just homesick about some things.

“I see. Ace told me that one of your holiday traditions was exchanging gifts. Is that correct?” You confirm. “I'm glad, because I got one for you.” He takes his hands from behind his back and hands you a nicely wrapped present. “Don't worry about getting one for me. My only intention is to cheer you up a little.”

You look at him and raise an eyebrow, suspicious. He chuckles and then smirks

“Okay, maybe that's not really the only intention. But please open it and see if you like it.”

You thank him and open the present, it's a burgundy and black hoodie exactly like the one Jamil wears under his school uniform blazer. You look at him and he's smiling smugly.

“You already told me that you liked my hoodie, so I thought you might like to have one like it. This one is also very warm for days like these. So, what did you think?”

You say you like it, slightly flustered and even comment that it's possible that people think you're actually wearing his hoodie.

“Oh, you're right. That hadn't even occurred to me.” He says, still with a smirk on his face. “By the way, you should start thinking about pruning the plants outside your dorm, some are already growing here at the door.” He points up and you see a mistletoe growing from the wall, which you are almost certain is not naturally possible.

“Wasn't mistletoe part of another tradition of yours? I'm pretty sure Ace mentioned something about it.”

You tell him about the kiss under the mistletoe.

“Ah, yes, that was it. Well, if you want, I have no objection in participating in this tradition of yours.”

You show that you would also like to do it with him, you get closer to each other and he captures your lips.

Vil heard about what you said about Christmas from Rook, who had apparently been eavesdropping on your conversation. And obviously he being who he is would mention the mistletoe tradition. The day before he left to spend the winter break at home, he came to see you at Ramshackle Dorm.

“Good afternoon, [Y/N].” Vil greets you when you open the door. “I heard what you said about a holiday in your world that happens at this time of year. Now I understand why you seemed a little sad. Are you too homesick?”

You say you're fine, just homesick about some things.

“Perhaps if you fulfilled some of your traditions it will help make you feel better?” Vil suggests. “Rook told me about your tradition of kissing under the mistletoe. Is that correct?” You confirm. “In that case, I have a proposal for you, sweet potato.” He smirks. “If you manage to find a sprig of mistletoe and make us both meet under it, I will allow you to fulfill your tradition with a kiss of mine. Be aware that to receive any kiss from me you have to prove yourself, especially one on the lips. Show me how much you want one before I leave for home and I shall reward you with it.” He winks at you and leaves.

You still spend a lot of time looking for a mistletoe tree until you discover that there is one in the Botanical Garden. But it was only on the next day that you managed to run over there and pick a sprig of mistletoe with or without permission and then run to try to find Vil at Pomefiore.

You ask where Vil is and one of the students tells you he was in his room. You go over there, place the sprig of mistletoe on top of the door frame and knock. Vil is surprised to see you and smiles.

“Hello sweet potato. I was just about to leave to go home. Don't tell me you've given up on our little game?”

You smile and point up so he can see the sprig of mistletoe stuck to the door frame of his room. He looks at you angrily.

“And you still dare to defile the aesthetics of our dormitory, especially right outside my bedroom door?!” But then laughs heartily. “Ha ha ha, How daring! Or should I say cheeky? I see you're smiling. Did this little challenge cheer you up?”

Now you realize that entertaining you a little to cheer you up was his real plan.

“Well, you managed to complete the challenge. It's only fair that I reward you.” He holds your chin and kisses you masterfully.

Epel wasn't with you when you told the others about Christmas, but he asked Ace and Deuce if you were okay because he had been seeing you looking a little down. That's when they told him about your holiday, but they didn't mention the mistletoe tradition. The day before he left to spend the winter break at home, he came to see you at Ramshackle Dorm.

“Hi [Y/N].” Epel greets you with a cute smile. “I heard you were feeling a little down because you were homesick. Ace and Deuce told me about a holiday you have in your world at this time of year and that exchanging gifts is one of the traditions. Is it true?” You confirm and his smile becomes even more enthusiastic. “Heh heh. In that case, I've got you one.” He takes his hands from behind his back and hands you a present.

You thank him and accept the gift but say you don't have any for him.

“Don't worry about that. I just wanted to cheer you up, you don't have to give me anything. Go on, open it! I'm sure you'll love it.”

You open the present, it's a lavender knitted poncho with an apple pattern.

“I have to admit something.” He tells you a little embarrassed. “The truth is that this poncho was mine, it was made by my Meemaw. Since it is winter I wanted to give you something from Harveston, but there was no time to ask my family to send something. So I decided to give you something of my own. I’m sure that Meemaw would be happy to know that if I gave this poncho to anyone it was to you. Don't worry, I have many more. Do you like it?”

You say you like it and he says he's glad. Then the two of you hear a sound above you, look up, and see a ghost's hand holding a sprig of mistletoe. Epel asks you if you know why they are doing that and you tell him about the tradition of the kiss under the mistletoe. He immediately blushes!

“K-K-KISS?! Why are they doing this to us then?” He sees you getting slightly flustered. “Wait... you...” He takes a deep breath to gain confidence. “If you want to follow your tradition, I... I don't mind.”

You move closer to him and close your eyes. It takes him a moment to gain enough courage to kiss you.

Rook overheard your conversation with Ace, Deuce and others, and he was immediately smitten by such a heartwarming holiday. And even more interested he became when you told Cater about the tradition of kissing under the mistletoe. A delightful opportunity! That same day he knocks on the door of Ramshackle Dorm.

“Bonjour, Trickster!” Rook greets you at the height of his good mood. “It came to my ears that you were feeling homesick due to a holiday that you have in your world at this time of year that we don't have in Twisted Wonderland. I heard about some of the traditions you talked about and I thought it was merveilleux! I am eager to know more about this Christmas holiday. Would you be so kind as to grant me a conversation on the subject?”

You say you don't mind or even that you'd love to and invite him in. The two of you talk for so long that you end up telling him practically everything you know about Christmas. So much so that it's only when Rook sees the sun setting that he realizes how much time has passed and apologizes for stealing so much of your time.

“What if I made you dinner? I feel it is the least I can do for the time you have so generously given me.”

You both go to the kitchen because you either insist on helping him prepare dinner or you want to supervise him. What you don't see is the hand of one of the ghosts appearing with a sprig of mistletoe from the ceiling and Rook taking it from his hands.

“A poisonous plant is not something advisable in a kitchen, don't you think Trickster?” You turn around and see the mistletoe in his hands. “However...” He walks towards you, getting very close and looking at you with his hunter's gaze as he raises the sprig above both of your heads. “This is an excellent opportunity for you to show me in practice what your mistletoe tradition is like.”

He won't kiss you, he wants you to do it. He loves it when you're cheeky enough to take the initiative. But once you do, be prepared for him to show you how much he likes you.

Ortho overheard your conversation and showed up halfway through to join in and find out more. He was the one who told his big brother who seemed to dislike such a holiday. Boring, too lovey-dovey, an excuse for family members who can't stand each other to get together once a year to pretend they care, were some of the ways he described his conclusion about this holiday.

Idia wondered why you would miss a holiday like that and Ortho said that maybe you missed having loved ones around, or maybe you're sad that you can't share that heartwarming spirit with anyone. Spending a date where you can celebrate good feelings with the ones you love is a little sad to spend alone. Especially if you have people there that you would like to spend it with.

Idia had mixed feelings about Ortho's hypotheses and asked if he really thought there was anyone at that school or in Twisted Wonderland that you would like to spend this holiday with.

“You'll never know if you don't ask. He he.” Was Ortho's response.

Ortho knew that his big brother and you liked each other, he could read your vital signs when you were near each other or talking about each other, but he also knew that it was easier to convince you to go to Ignihyde than Idia to go to Ramshackle Dorm.

Ortho asked if you could go to Ignihyde to help him with something before he and Idia go home for the winter break. Grim didn't want to go because he didn't want to run the risk of Idia wanting to pet him and treat him like a cat.

When you arrive you ask Ortho what he needs from you.

“Actually, I'm sorry I lied to you. I don't need help with anything. I just wanted to surprise you. I've been thinking about what you said about Christmas and how you've been feeling a little down, so I decided to follow one of your traditions to try to cheer you up a little. Please check out that mobile game you love.”

You pick up your phone, open the game and see that there is something in your Gift Box. It is a key that guarantees you an SSR card. You ask if that was him and how he did that. He gives you a mischievous look and says you don't need to worry about it, he has his tricks.

“I wanted to give you a present, you know because of your tradition of exchanging gifts. Did you like it?”

You say you loved it, but you don't have any gifts for him.

“Don't worry about it, this was nothing. But if you want to do something as a gift back maybe you can help me with my big brother if you don't mind?”

He tells you that he also wants to surprise Idia and that all you have to do is convince him to open his bedroom door. Discussing with Ortho he has an idea: "I know! Why don't you tell him you have some Christmas sweets for him to try? He loves sweets!”

The two of you put this plan into action. It takes a while before Idia decides to open the door to see if you are telling the truth or not. The two of you are the only people he doesn't mind opening the bedroom door to see face to face. He sees that you don't have any sweets and Ortho admits that it was his idea to trick him.

“I don't know why I still have glimmers of hope IRL” He says, unbothered.

Ortho laughs and flies over your and Idia's heads and holds a sprig of mistletoe between the two of you. When he reminds Idia what he told him about that tradition of yours, the tips of his hair turn pink and he starts to stutter. You need to be the first one to reveal that you would like to fulfill that tradition with him.

“W-with me? Listen, you don't need to lower your standards that much just because you pity me.”

You stamp your foot saying that it have nothing to do with it and for him to stop with that self-depressing talk.

“Well, then you do it.” He smirks. “If you really want it, go ahead. Look, I'll even lower myself to be on your level. As if you were that-”

You shut him up with the kiss, and eventually he pulls you into his room and closes the door leaving his little brother in the hallway.

Lilia was the one who told Malleus, after Cater told him, what you said about Christmas. The conversation focused more on the exchange of gifts, but Lilia made a point of mentioning the tradition of kissing under the mistletoe. The day before he left to spend the winter break at home, he came to see you at Ramshackle Dorm.

“Good afternoon, Child of Man.” Malleus greets you with a smile when you open the door. “How are you feeling today?”

You say you're fine and ask why he's asking that.

“I heard you were feeling homesick due to a holiday of yours that isn't celebrated here in Twisted Wonderland. What was it named?” You answer. “Ah yes, Christmas. Lilia told me that one of your traditions was exchanging gifts, so I brought you one.” He makes a gift appear wrapped in fancy looking paper and hands it to you.

You thank him, but say you don't have any for him because you didn't know he was going to give you a present.

“Worry not. I am aware that this gesture of mine is quite sudden. You needn't to give me a present in return, seeing you smiling after these days of feeling down will be a good enough gift.”

You open the present, it's a black hooded jacket. He asks you to try it on and when you do, you discover that on the hood there are two horns just like his. He smiles fondly.

“Lilia would be deeply envious of your cuteness right now.” Malleus comments.

“Indeed, but I will allow my crown to be taken from me this time.” Lilia appears, upside down and above the two of you.

“Lilia? What are you doing here? I thought you were packing your things so we could leave tomorrow.”

“Oh, worry not, Malleus. I have plenty of time for that. But for this...”

He smiles mischievously and stretches out his arm as he holds a sprig of mistletoe over both of your heads. He even reminds Malleus of what he said about that tradition of yours.

“Oh, I see. A kiss from me?” He smirks at you. “Practically everyone is afraid to even come near me. [Y/N], would you be brave enough to have this tradition of your be fulfilled by me?”

You step forward and show him how much you would love that. He laughs heartily. He leans in, you close your eyes, but then you feel him pull you with him into the house and close the door.

“Forgive my rudeness but I would prefer to do this with a little more privacy.” And finally he kisses you as if he had wanted to do it for a long time.

Lilia was the one who told Silver, after Cater told him, what you said about Christmas, especially about the tradition of exchanging gifts. The day before he left to spend the winter break at home, he came to see you at Ramshackle Dorm.

“Good afternoon, [Y/N].” Silver greets you with his usual neutral expression. “How are you?”

You say you're fine and ask why he's asking.

“I heard you were feeling a little down for being homesick. I think you mentioned a holiday in your world that takes place at this time of year. What was it named?” You answer. “Christmas. Is it true that one of the Christmas traditions is exchanging gifts?” You confirm. “I'm glad I didn't misheard it, then. Here, I brought you a present.”

He takes a cute little box out of his pocket and hands it to you. You thank him, but say you don't have any gifts for him.

“You don't have to worry about that. I'm not offering you this gift to get one in return. I just hope that trying to recreate a tradition of yours can bring you a little joy.” He gives you that rare smile of his.

You open the present, Inside the box is a small square of black styrofoam that holds a silver ring.

“Sorry for not being much.”

You say he doesn't have to apologize because it was a beautiful ring. You put it on and it fits perfectly on your finger. Suddenly, you both hear a chirping above you, look up and see a little bird holding a sprig of mistletoe above your heads.

“Mistletoe. Sorry, wasn't there another tradition of yours that involved mistletoe?”

You tell him about the kiss under the mistletoe. He widens his eyes and raises his eyebrows.

“Oh, I see. Um... If you want, I don't mind fulfilling this tradition with you.” He smiles. “In fact, I would be honored to do so if you allow me.”

You take a step forward showing that you want him to do it too and he kisses you gently.

Lilia was the one who told Sebek, after Cater told him, what you said about Christmas. But Sebek didn't seem very interested in the subject until Lilia tells him about the mistletoe tradition, however he tells Sebek that you are obliged to kiss the other person. This not only arouses his interest but also his indignation and revolt.

The day before he left to spend the winter break at home, he goes to Ramshackle Dorm first thing in the morning.

“HUMAN!” Sebek startles you when you open the door. “I heard about your mistletoe tradition. You must be alert so as not to come across a sprig of such or a tree. I have taken the liberty of examining every paths you may go through and ensuring that you are free of this plant.” He has a smug and proud smile on.

You ask what he's talking about, confused and maybe even still a little sleepy.

“Lillia-sama told me all about the holiday you have in your world this time of year and the tradition of you being forced to kiss any subject you meet under a mistletoe. I am helping you to avoid such unconsenting tradition. You can start thanking me now.”

You tell him that the tradition of two people kissing each other under the mistletoe is true, but that it is not mandatory. It’s just something to be fun for both people, so the person can refuse to do it if they feel uncomfortable.

He asks if you are implying that Lilia deceived him on purpose. You think that maybe that is exactly what happened, but decide to say that maybe Lilia misunderstood or that whoever told him gave him the wrong information.

“Of course! Some humans are not even capable of transmitting non-erroneous information.”

“And now that we've got that sorted...” You both hear a familiar voice above you, look up and see Lilia floating while holding a sprig of mistletoe above your heads. “Why don't you two try fulfilling this tradition? Like [Y/N] said, it's just a little fun thing. Kee hee.”

Sebek blushes immediately! “I... ugh... Human!” He recomposes himself. “If that is what you wish, I have no objection to carrying out your tradition.” He is still blushing.

You approach him and show that you don't object either, in fact, you would even like him to be the one to help you fulfill that tradition. Lilia leaves the sprig of mistletoe hanging over the door frame and disappears to give you more privacy. He needs a moment to prepare, but once he does he goes all in.

Cater was the one who told Lilia what you said about Christmas. Especially the tradition of kissing under the mistletoe. The day before he left to spend the winter break at home, he came to see you at Ramshackle Dorm.

“Good afternoon [Y/N].” Lilia greets you with a sweet smile when you open the door. “Cater told me you were feeling a little sad for being homesick. I came to see how you were.”

You say you're fine and that your homesickness is because of a holiday that exists in your world.

“Oh, yes, he told me a lot about it. He said one of your traditions is exchanging gifts, so I brought you one.” He makes a present appear and gives it to you. “Don't worry about giving me one back. I know this gesture is very last minute. If this can cheer you up a little then that would be a great gift.”

You thank him and open the present, It is a matching set of pink gloves, scarf and hat with black bats pattern. He asks if you liked it and you say yes while trying on the scarf.

“Aw, you look so cute with it. I'm almost jealous. Oh, by the way, didn't another tradition of yours involve mistletoe?”

You confirm and tell him about the kiss under the mistletoe. You ask why he suddenly remembered that. He points up with a sly smile, you look and see a sprig of mistletoe floating above your heads.

“I hope it's not against the rules to be a plastic one. I wanted to keep it as a souvenir of this day. Is it okay?”

You say there is no problem, it is still valid.

“In that case, what if you make this your gift to me? I would love to share this traditional moment with you. Nothing would make me happier than learning more about your culture first hand.”

You get closer to each other and he kisses you sweetly.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[nyctoaerah]

yandere satosugu x female reader? can you do jealousy headcanons (like what makes them jealous and/or what they do when they get jealous)? sorry if that wasn’t specific enough!

╰┈➤𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere behavior (duh) murder, possessiveness, gore. (Ooc maybe) satoru being an oa little shit. Poly relationship.

╰┈➤𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere! Satosugu x Fem! Reader

╰┈➤𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: WHAHAHA i didn’t knew if you wanted it to be separate or not anon, you said satosugu so i immediately assumed that it was a threesome. But heree, some hc’s:33 sorry pookie, i got lazy on suguru’s part:< SJAKEKSKA i did this first cause hc’s are the easiest to write💀💀💀

Masterlist

🔪Satoru struggles with pervasive jealousy issues, particularly when it comes to you and Suguru.

🔪This dude is like the embodiment of jealousy. he’s so envious he’s practically green with it. Hell he’s even jealous of himself. There was this one time he bet he could pull off dressing up as a girl for a dare, and oh boy, did he go all out. But then he got all pouty when you gushed all over him and got all touchy, something that you don’t really do often. And his reason of getting jealous with himself? He thought that you prefer him as a girl, like hello? you were supposed to prefer the original satoru and not his genderbent!

🔪But seriously, this guy’s jealousy knows no bounds. If Suguru flashes a flirty grin at someone else, bam, jealousy strikes. And if you dare compliment another soul? Jealousy overload. You hugged another man that isn’t suguru? He’s trying to force himself not to throw hands. This dude craves all the attention, all the affection, like a toddler hoarding toys in a playgroup. He’s aware he’s selfish, probably knows it’s not the best look, but he’s powerless against the possessiveness that overtakes him when it comes to you and Suguru. You both have this unique power to bring out the best and worst in him, after all, you two were the only one who sees him as “Satoru” and not as the “Strongest.”

🔪Satoru’s neurotic tendencies and jealousy issues stemmed from his messed-up childhood. The poor guy got stripped of his carefree youth and was thrust into the adult world way before his time after all. the jealousy bug bit him hard when he saw other kids having the time of their lives, while he was stuck with grown-ups fawning over him and expecting way too much and pressuring him. That childhood envy stuck to him like glue, and it grew into a full-blown mess when you, him, and Suguru became an item.

🔪The thing that grinds Satoru’s gears the most and the absolute worst, is when you and Suguru says something about other people’s eyes like; “Their eyes is so pretty” Blah, blah, blah, bullshit like that. It kills him inside that you don’t shower the same love on his eyes. His eyes are prettier, more powerful, and literally very unique, and you hardly ever mention how beautiful it is.

🔪Satoru absolutely loathes it when you’re completely oblivious to someone flirting with you. He’ll shoot menacing glares at the culprit when you’re not paying attention, as if daring them to keep it up, and he would end up threatening them.

🔪Satoru doesn’t bother in hiding his emotions, he’ll whimper, pout, and stick to you and Suguru like glue. And would play the melodramatic card, guilt tripping you. Or he’ll just straight up threaten you or tell suguru about how naughty you are.

🔪🔪🔪

Satoru’s head rested delicately upon your lap as your dexterous fingers ran through his snow white tresses. He gazed at you upward, sky blue eyes peeking from beneath his snowy eyelashes.

“Can you give me your phone for a minute baby? I just wanna do something”

Without pause for consideration, you obliged his request and gave the phone into his outstretched hand.

“Yeah, sure, here.” You responded with a hum.

“What are you gonna do with it, anyways?” You questioned, before your eyes widened as you saw how satoru’s digits hastened across the interface, focused intently on blocking specific contacts from further reaching your line.

“Huh, ‘Toru, what the hell?”

“Wait—why are you blocking them? Those are my—” Your words faded as Satoru lifted his head from your lap and moves away from you, his piercing gaze fixed on yours as he gently grasped your chin between his forefinger and thumb.

“Why do you always insist on conversing with them, hmm? Do you like them?”

“What— no! It’s not like that, what the fuck?”

“If you really love me and Suguru, then you have to sever ties with that girl/guy and keep your distance, okay?”

🔪Suguru really isn’t the jealous type, because he’s all about trust and loyalty when it comes to you and Satoru—He trusts you two.

🔪But, every now and then, a feeling of jealousy creep up inside him when he sees you and Satoru hanging out and having fun without him. He tries to brush it off though, understanding that you two are really close. He just wants to see his pretty lovers smiling, or at least that’s what he tells himself.

🔪When Suguru starts feeling jealous, it’s not a pretty sight. Beneath that kind and laid-back exterior lies a man who doesn’t really forgive that much. Suguru doesn’t forgive, and he doesn’t forget.

🔪Suguru may be a master at concealing his jealousy, but when it does surface, it’s like a storm crashing down. Picture this: you innocently text someone he’s really jealous of, and before you know it, your phone is pulled from your hands and tossed across the room while he summons a cursed spirit to destroy it completely, only to be replaced with a brand-new one moments later. Oh, and that person you were casually chatting with? It’s either you can consider them ghosted or consider them dead.

🔪Mentioning your ex around him was a big no-no. Because it immediately triggers him. can’t you just keep the spotlight on him and Satoru? One tiny mention of your ex’s name or Satoru reminiscing about his past flings, and Suguru’s mood immediately becomes sour.

🔪In stark comparison to Satoru, Suguru remains nonchalant about compliments being thrown around. He’s all for lifting people up until those compliments take a flirtatious turn. If that line is crossed, however, his cursed spirits will have its new meal.

🔪If Suguru was jealous and it led to an argument between you two, he would turn on his ultimate weapon—the silent treatment. He’d nonchalantly start hanging out with other people, making sure you noticed just to annoy you and make you jealous. He was well aware of his petty tendencies, but deep down, he simply wished for you to drop the bratty act and apologize.

🔪If you don’t really apologize and just pushed him over the edge... Well, you’ll have to say goodbye to your sanity because suguru is brutal as fuck when it comes to giving punishment.

🔪Unlike Satoru, who would guilt trip and manipulate you, Suguru would take it up a notch on the intensity scale. He wouldn’t shy away from using violence after all. And that doesn’t only apply to the person that he’s envious of, that applies to you too, and satoru. But that’s the difference, Satoru is a good boy, and you’re not.

🔪Suguru would be more than glad to kill someone in front of you and force you to watch it after all. He’ll hurt you too if you thrash and scream instead of being a good girl.

And you can’t really escape the both of them, after all, their love is like a noose.♡

🔪🔪🔪

Suguru’s hand forcefully clamped over your quivering lips, stifling any cries that tried to escape. His breath was hot against your skin, his fingers digging into your flesh with an iron grip, rendering you immobile. The metallic tang of blood invaded your nostrils. Your eyes were wide with terror, pupils shrinking, and your pulse quickening. A sickening view of gore played out before your horrified gaze, crimson splattering the walls, each nauseating squelch echoing through the room.

“I told you to stay away from them and you didn’t listen...” Suguru whispers, his breath hot against your neck, his delicate mouth parting to suck hard upon your pulsing skin, his mouth works its way slowly along your skin. And you shudder involuntarily beneath his touch, fear coursing through you as his lips close around a patch of flesh, sucking hard.

“See...? This is what happens when you disobey.”

The sharp prick of his teeth sends bolts of pain ricocheting through your body. Your already unsettled stomach lurches violently at the sight that greets you as you raise your head, struggling against his grip.

Before you, bound fast to a wooden chair, was the friend you had jokingly flirted with. Tears stream unchecked down their pallid cheeks, mingling with traces of dried blood, as their cries continue to ring in your ears.

Every limb was callously severed, Their bones was protruding out—the metacarpal bones, the carpal bones, the humerus, the ulna, the fibula, and other bones,  Their arms and legs are covered in long, vivid scarlet lines that are three inches wide, intersecting each other in a crisscross pattern and the wounds appear to have breached the surface of their skin, While suguru’s cursed spirits feeds on their severed flesh.

With a low, self-satisfied hum, Satoru drags the tip of the scalpel upwards your friend’s cheek, cutting them and the skin opens, revealing their inner facial muscle. He then reaches out to grasp a fistful of your friend’s hair, yanking their head back sharply to force clouded eyes up to meet your own.

“Suguruuuu, what do i do next? Do we gouge their eyes out for looking at our pretty girl that way?” 

“Do it. She said that she likes their eyes anyways... She’s probably implying that she prefers their eyes over yours.” Suguru smirks, humming as he pressed his body against yours, enjoying the way satoru’s face suddenly fell.

“Haah... Looks like i’ll be enjoying gouging their eyes then.”

[lidiasloca]

hello, can you do somehting angsty with azriel x reader?? please

in another life, azriel's waiting

azriel x reader

very angsty

The tea must be ready.

You head to the kitchen, pausing by the window; winter is finally here. Snow paints Velaris’ mountains with the purest shade of white, as if illustrated by The High Lady herself.

You feel the pot with your hands—it burns, of course, but you touch it again, just in case.

It still burns.

You sigh, walking to the cabinet. Where are the mittens? You look and look and look. I should tidy this, you think to yourself, realizing they aren’t there.

By the firewood reserve! You had used them to avoid splinters, yes.

You almost run to the door, the need for tea getting serious. And when your hand is on the knob—a knock.

What? It’s well deep into the night…

Another knock, stronger.

And another, desperate.

You summon all your courage. “Hello?”

Whoever is on the other side of your door speaks no word but knocks again, now almost inaudibly. And then you hear the sound of something falling—someone falling.

You take a trembling breath… and you open the door.

A male. A winged male is on the floor. Eyes closed and… hurt, bleeding.

“Oh, gods—”

“Hello,” he whimpers, low enough that you have to kneel to hear his words.

“Are you alrig— You are not alright,” you cry as your hands move frenetically anywhere on his body but never truly touch—fearing you’ll make it all worse.

“Good eye,” he mumbles lowly, a faint smile on his trembling lips.

Oh, Cauldron boil you, he is mad. Dying and mad—just what you needed to end the day.

“What—what can I do?” you ask, scanning his closing eyes for the answer.

They pry open at the desperation in your voice, meeting yours, pleading and crystal-wet. “Can you just… keep me company?”

His voice is so low, so broken… you look for his hand and take it in yours.

“Let me get you inside. I’ll try to… do something,” you plead. You are not willing to let this male die. You will not let him surrender to his imminent death.

He shakes his head faintly. “There’s nothing to be done.”

You follow the path a tear takes down his beautiful face.

“No,” you cry. “Please, let me at least try. I have a nursing kit. I can—”

“It’s poison,” he murmurs, signaling weakly with his chin to the deadly cut on his stomach. “The blade was poisoned.”

You are frozen in place, your eyes blinking and blinking, hoping at some point you will open them and find yourself awake from the nightmare that this is.

Your shaky voice tries to ask, “How long?” You cannot pronounce the words out loud.

How long until you die?

He frailly moves his head to face you fully. You observe his face… he looks almost at peace now, bravely accepting his fate.

In the honesty in his eyes, the life swimming out of his parted lips; you wonder if this is a male you could have known in another life. Maybe even loved.

“Not long.”

Instantly, your hand travels to his cheek, and he leans into the warmth of it.

Who would’ve told him death would be so warm and peaceful? Who would’ve told him it would have a face so beautiful?

Don’t die, you want to say. Please don’t die.

“Let me get you inside,” you try again, not knowing what to say anymore. “To the fire.”

He doesn’t answer, just looks deep into your eyes, as if finding his remnant life there.

“Please,” you plead.

You don’t want him to die here. Cold and bloody and trembling.

You don’t want him to die at all.

Without a word, he moves his right arm with difficulty to your hand. You are quick to take it and, with all your strength, place it on your shoulder to raise him.

“Just five more steps,” you reassure, closing the door when you meet the warmth of your home.

He walks on unsteady feet. But he walks.

And at last, you are by the fireplace. Delicately, you help him lay on your couch, gently guiding his head to rest on the side.

You kneel in front of him again, wiping your tears away, trying to calm your quick breaths.

You have to look calm, you have to make this easier for him.

“Better?” you murmur, trying to smile.

He opens his tired eyes and takes his time observing your lips. As if copying you, he matches your little smile. “Better.”

You cannot help but move your hand to draw circles on his burning temple. Your other hand holding his hand—his scarred hand, you now realize.

How much pain has this male gone through in his life? How many evils have his eyes seen? How many wounds has his body suffered?

Maybe it isn’t the best thing to ask, but curiosity and hate for unfairness have you asking, “What happened?”

He blinks slowly, taking in your question. Flashes of pain paint his hazel eyes, and you instantly regret making him remember whatever he had been through.

“Forget it,” you say, moving your hand down to his cheek, making him meet your eyes. “What’s your name?”

He weakly tries to sit up, moving his hand to yours to keep it on his face. You take a mental note of not moving it elsewhere. Of not going elsewhere—ever, away from his side.

“Azriel,” he finally says, as if it’s impossible for him to pronounce the word.

Is he thinking the same as you? That who he is won’t be alive for much longer? That he—Azriel—is going to die? Cease to exist?

You feel more tears running down your cheeks, and at the sight, he moves his hand to wipe them away softly.

Does he have a family? A loved one you should write to when he—

“It’s okay,” he whispers, as if you were the one having to hear it. “What’s your name?”

You take heart and meet his eyes. “Y/N.”

At the sound of it, a big smile blooms on his face. “Y/N,” he echoes. “It’s beautiful.”

You cannot contain the sob that escapes you, moving to hug him as his injuries let you. You had never been close to death. Never had seen the unfairness of life deserting someone.

“It’s okay,” he says again and again as you cry, hidden in the curve of his neck.

When he starts stroking your back feebly, you will your eyes to find his face. He looks down at you, trying to show you it truly is okay with his childish smile.

“I’m glad I’m here with you, Y/N,” he says, and though you wouldn’t have believed him in any other circumstance, you do now. You do because his eyes tell you the truth.

“I’m glad, too,” you mutter through tears, because only imagining Azriel out there, having to die alone, bleeding on the snow, with no one to hold his hand and caress his crying face—it breaks your heart.

“Do you think there’s another life?” he asks, still lost in the depths of your eyes.

You don’t have to lie, for the truth finds your lips quickly. “Yes. I believe there is something better, something kinder and softer after the cruelness of this world.”

A silent tear slides close to his faint, trembling smile. His eyes, at last, look elsewhere in wonder, as if he is picturing this life you described. “Sounds great.”

You nod weakly, hoping he turns to look at you again.

Please don’t go. Don’t go yet.

“It’s a pity, though,” he murmurs, meeting your eyes. “That I won’t find you there.”

Another sob breaks through you. “But you will. Someday you will. I promise, Azriel.”

Your words seem to bring him peace, his eyes blinking each time slower, his breaths turning unhurried.

“I’ll be waiting for you, Y/N,” he whispers at last.

You don’t have time to reply before his eyes close.

-Charcaters by Sarah J Maas

azriel masterlist

a/n: probably one of my favourite fics i've written. i'm now taking writing more seriously and, i think you can tell with this one, or at least, i hope, so. have a good day, loves :))

[magicalmutants]

Kiss Me !

♡ Summary: different kisses with the JJK men :)

♡ Includes: Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Choso, Toji, Sukuna

♡ Warnings: AFAB!Reader, slight NSFW in some of them, swearing, making out, sexual themes and implications, MDNI!

♡ A/N: sooo Sukuna’s is my first tiptoe into a little bit of NSFW territory… idk if I fw it on not I can’t lie the whole time I was writing it I felt like that guidance counselor from 10 Things I Hate About You… I have so much newfound respect for creators who can write long steamy scenes without it getting repetitive or becoming awkwardly written omfd! Also, Choso and Sukuna girlies I know you’ve been waiting on seeing your men in my content, this one’s for you!

♡ A/N 2: this is the lil celebration piece I’ve been working on! Thank you all for supporting my work and chatting with me, you make me smile :) lmk if you’d like to see more stuff like this!

I BLOCK MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS

S. Gojo

⭒ Satoru Gojo is full face kissing attacks. Kissing Satoru is being trapped underneath your boyfriend as he kisses all over you face just to make you giggle.

He sees through your fake annoyance, mirth glimmering in his eyes as you squeal and try to wriggle out from under him.

“Oh my gosh! Whats that?” You gasp and point at something over his shoulder.

“Huh—?” He smiles as he looks over his shoulder dramatically, going along with your little plan. He knows how this will end after all.

“HAH!” You use this distraction of break free and run into the living room, cackling and hiding behind the sofa as you try and catch your breath.

“Awww. You don’t want my love?” You hear him call from the bedroom, trying his best to sound dejected, even though hearing your giggles from the living room puts a smile on his face.

“That was an act of terrorism!” You call back.

You don’t hear a response from the bedroom. After a beat you call out, “hello?”

No response.

You peer up over the top of the sofa and try to look into the doorway to the bedroom. The bed looks empty, but where was your boyfriend?

“Boo,” a low voice next to your ear makes you shriek and dive over the top of the sofa.

“Toru!” You yell as you tumble from the sofa onto the floor, while your boyfriend doubles over in laughter.

“Hey! Don’t glare at me, you’re the one who decided to make a break for it,” he chuckles.

“Well—” but before you can get the sentence out, you’ve been scooped up from the floor and flown onto the bed again, finding yourself right back where you started.

You are once again pinned under Satoru as he peppers kisses all over your face and neck, coaxing peals of laughter and breathy giggles out of you as your squirm under him. He continues his barrage as he slowly gets closer and closer to your lips. The kiss to your lips lingers longer than the others. He pulls away slightly and looks into your eyes.

The laughter bubbling from your lips dies away as you catch your breath and look into those beautiful, blue eyes with a smile on your face. The eyes of the man you’re lucky enough to call the love of your life.

“What’s the matter, baby?” You murmur as he leans down to peck your lips quickly, his snow white hair brushing your forehead.

“Nothing,” he replies, a soft smile on his lips. “just like lookin at ya.”

“I love you,” you lean up and plant a gentle kiss on the corner of his smiling mouth.

“I love you,” he says.

A kiss to your forehead.

“I love you,” he murmurs.

A kiss to your chin.

“I love you,” he whispers.

A kiss to your lips.

K. Nanami

⭒ Kento Nanami is tired kisses, cuddling on the sofa after a long day of work. Your body held close to him, your head tucked neatly into the crook of his neck as you run your fingers over his chest, lulling him into the blissful, sleepy calm he only seems to find around you.

His arms cradle you. His left arm holds you close as his thumb rubs circles on the side of your hip, while his right hand strokes your cheek as he gazes adoringly down at you.

He leans down and plants a gentle kiss to your temple.

You look up into his smiling face. His eyes are tired, but the love they hold for you is unmistakable.

“Hi, Ken,” you whisper, giggling.

“Hi, my love,” he responds, feeling like the luckiest man in the world to have you there next to him, taking the weight of his life off his shoulders with just a quirk of your mouth.

You lie there for a while, the gentle hum of the fan is the only noise interrupting your blissful cocoon of perfect contentment with your husband.

“How was your day, darling?” Kenton’s voice is husky from exhaustion and the question is murmured sleepily as he tries not to doze off from the way your fingers are gliding over his chest and the way you nuzzle into his side.

“It was fine. Much better now,” you whisper to him.

Kento’s lips quirk upwards, even as his eyes begin to close again. “Why?” He questions as he bites back a smile.

“Because you’re here,” you giggle, planting a kiss on the corner of his smiling mouth.

“My god, you must have feelings for me or something,” the sleepy smile never leaves his mouth.

Tired Kento was the absolute death of you. Hair slightly disheveled, tie loosened around his neck and the top 3 buttons of his sinfully tight dress shirt undone. Tired eyes and gravel in his voice. Still gentle, still funny. He was so perfect.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” you laugh, even as he makes an amused noise.

“Well that’s a shame. I have a wife, you know,” Kento continues the gag.

“Oh do you now,” you play along, “Tell me about this wife of yours. She must be a very lucky woman.”

“Well, I’m the lucky one. You see, I’ve loved her since we were 14. She’s beautiful and funny and elegant, and somehow she decided to love me back,” Kento’s gaze is full of adoration as he looks down into your eyes.

“Hmm, I don’t blame her. Maybe she saw what a kind and handsome and witty gentleman you are,” you smile fondly back up at him.

“I’d be so lost without you, my love,” Kento sighs as he drifts off again, pulling you up onto his chest so you can be more comfortable as you doze.

“So would I,” you whispered back as you snuggle into him.

“You’re the love of my life, Y/N.”

“And you’re mine, Kento.”

S. Geto

⭒ Kissing Suguru Geto always feels harmless enough at the start. A gentle kiss to the back of your neck as you two stand in the kitchen, cooking dinner together. You’re leaned over the pan on the stove, stirring the contents to make sure they don’t burn. There’s a little furrow of concentration between your brows, and a little piece of hair curled at the nape of your neck that didn’t make it into your ponytail.

Every time Suguru walks behind you, he plants a little kiss to the back of your neck, right where the tiny curl of hair is. And every time he does this, your brows un-furrow and a little smile plays on your lips as you look over at him.

He meets your gaze with a smile of his own.

“Hi, Angel,”

“Hi, Sugu,”

He’d shoot you a wink, and then it’s back to work until he does it again.

“Hi, Angel,”

“Hi, Sugu,”

After the third time, you’re turning around to meet his lips with a peck of your own.

The fourth time, you nip at his bottom lip.

By the seventh time, your lower back is being pressing into the kitchen counter and your body is trapped between Suguru’s arms as he nibbles and kisses along your neck and jaw.

“Sugu, what about the pasta sauce,” you gasp as you drop your head back, fingers tangling into his soft hair.

“Fuck the sauce,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath making you shudder, before he kisses right under your lobe.

“Suguru… what if it sets off the fire alarm,” you protest weakly, your commitment to seeing the recipe to completion this time wavering.

Without missing a beat (or turning to look) Suguru reaches out, grips the handle of the saucepan and unceremoniously tosses it into the sink with a ‘clang’ and a ‘hiss’ when the hot pan comes into contact with the cold water in the sink.

“Fuck the fire alarm,” you can hear the smirk in his voice.

You wrap your legs around his torso as he sits you on the counter top and begins kissing you again.

“Ugh. You always do this,” you smile as you roll your eyes, unable to hide your giggles.

“Yeah, yeah waste of food, but I never hear you complaining afterwards, Princess,” his eyes gleam as he looks into yours, pretending to search your face for protest he knows he won’t find.

You roll your eyes again as you pull his face towards your own.

“That’s what I thought,” he smirks as your lips meet his.

C. Kamo

Choso is slow, lazy kisses as you both gradually wake up to start your days. Choso always wakes up first, just to admire the peaceful look on your beautiful face. He smiles as he listens to the gentle rise and fall of your breathing as you continue to sleep, completely unaware of the enamored man lying next to you.

Choso gently brushes a stray strand of hair off your forehead, causing you to stir, before leaning forward and placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

Your eyes slowly flutter open at the contact and you squint slightly at the sunlight streaming into your room.

“Morning, Cho,” you shoot him a sleepy smile as you rub the sleep from your eyes.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers back, “can I kiss you?”

“Yes, you don’t have to ask,” you giggle as you lean forward and place a lingering kiss to his lips.

“I’ll never get tired of doing that,” he breathes, looking blissfully happy.

“And I’ll never get tired of the look on your face after you do it,” you tease.

“Can you blame me?” He sounds incredulous, “how many people do you think would kill to wake up next to the most beautiful woman in the world every day?”

“Cheap flattery will get youuu…” you draw out the last syllable as you pretend to think, “everywhere,” you decide with a grin, wrapping your arms around his neck as you kiss him again.

“Well there’s way more where that came from, you make it easy to compliment you, you’re so perfect,” he smiles, pink dusting his cheeks form the kiss. Even after all this time, his reaction is the same as the first. It fills your heart with warmth.

“And you’re the cutest,” you giggle, as your stomach flutters from the intensity of his gaze.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this either,” you whisper as he pulls you close and gives the top of your head a kiss, before tucking it under his chin. You’re enveloped in him. His arms, his scent, the feeling of him. Choso. The love of your life. And as you lie there, you pray for this moment to last forever. Just you, Choso, and the glimmers of the morning sun, forever.

“I’m so happy I found you,” he breathes.

“I lov—”

“Yo! Choso? Y/N? You guys awake?” Comes the deadpan voice from the other side of the bedroom door.

“What’s the matter, Megumi?” You call out, even as Choso groans.

“Nobara and Yuji wanted to make breakfast for everyone and set the pancake batter on fire. Just thought I should tell you,” he calls back, his words getting fainter as he goes back down the hall.

“Guess that’s our wake up call,” you mutter as you move to get up.

“Let’s hope they don’t— hey!” You’re pulled back into Choso’s arms.

“Five more minutes?” his voice is muffled, his face being pressed into your back, “it’s fine if they burn the house down, it’s the school’s property anyway,”

You laugh as you manage to turn in his arms, “five more minutes,” you say, your lips finding his again.

T. Fushiguro

⭒ Toji Fushiguro is kisses against the back of your shoulder as you lean back against his broad chest, the water of the bath and the warmth from your body helping to seep away all the tension in his muscles after a brutal day of jobs.

“Ahhhh,” he sighs as he kisses your bare shoulder before leaning back and closing his eyes, “this is exactly what I needed. Good call, baby,”

You hum in agreement as you lean back further and cozy up to his chest, the warm water lapping around you.

Toji’s muscular arms are draped along the rim of the tub as you soak in silence for a few minutes.

“Do you have to go into work tomorrow?” You question as your finger traces from his bicep to his wrist.

“Nah, fuck that,” he replies, cracking an eye open to watch your hand.

“Hmm that’s good,” you reply absently as you bring his knuckles to your lips and place a soft kiss to them.

“What’re you doing?” He smiles.

“Kissing your hand,” you reply lightly.

“Yeah I can see that, but why?” His soft smile changes to a cocky smirk when you turn to peer up at him.

“Because I love your hands. And I love you,” you state simply, still looking at him.

Toji wonders if you know how easily you manage to turn him into mush. He tries so hard to be cocky and nonchalant, especially around you, but you always manage to cut right through that and turn him into a mess.

“Yeah, well. Love you too, doll,” he kisses the top of your head so he can avoid your gaze and hide his, no doubt burning, cheeks.

You hum as your lips ghost feather soft kisses over the back of Toji’s hand.

Toji suppresses a shudder and feels his dick twitch. He knows you definitely felt it too.

“Knock it off, baby,” he grunts as he moves his hand away from your mouth.

“Why?” You quirk an eyebrow, turning to look up at him again.

“Because,” he sighs, “as much as I want to, I really don’t have the energy to fuck you tonight and if you keep kissing me like that, I’m gonna have to”

“Okay,” you say simply, dropping your hand into the water.

After a minute, Toji feels the ghost of your fingers trailing up his leg.

“You stay just as you are, okay, babe?” You begin to shift in the tub, “I’m gonna take good care of you,” you whisper as a you place a light kiss against the side of his head.

“God, I love you,” Toji’s hand rises to the back of your neck and pulls you into a kiss.

“I love you too, Toji,” you smile as your hands begin to work.

R. Sukuna

Ryomen Sukuna is hungry kisses filled with teeth and tongue and three sweet, little words you both know aren’t true.

“Fuck, I love you,” you gasp as his lips follow a pathway across your breasts that only he can see, kissing and sucking along their way.

“You don’t mean that,” he says absently, not bothering to stop his ministrations or look up at you.

“No, I don’t,” you agree, hands tugging at his hair.

“Say it again,” he says, before swirling his tongue over your hard nipple.

“Fuuck,” you whine, “I fucking love you.”

“Good girl, baby,” there’s a wicked glint in his eyes as he comes up towards your face and crashes his lips into yours.

The kiss is messy and hot. A clash of tongues and teeth as you both fight to assert dominance. At long last, need for air breaks you apart and you pant, catching your breath.

Sukuna wastes no time and begins attacking your neck with the fervor of a starving man, while you gasp and take in shuddering breaths above him.

“You know it’s funny,” he says, working on your neck as his hands roam your body.

“What is?” You breathe.

“Nah, just after last time,” he pauses to leave a particularly brutal mark on your collarbone, “you said it was the last time we did this, and the time before that you said that was the last time,”

“Uh-huh,” you gasp, your eyes rolling back into your head.

“So what I’m wondering, baby,” you can hear the mirth in his voice as he teases you, “why do you keep coming back?”

“This— this is the last time,” you manage.

“How come?”

“Because you’re an asshole,” you moan as his mouth begins to travel lower.

“Say it’s because you love me,” he demands, withdrawing from your body.

“It’s because I love you, Ryo,” you whine, your eyes snapping open, hands reaching out to bring his lips back to yours.

“Fuck,” Sukuna would never admit how hard it makes him when he hears you say that nickname like that.

The kisses become messier and more fervent as Sukuna tries to make you suffer a little bit longer for trying to go no contact with him again.

Finally, he caves and fucks you. Between gasps and moans and the sounds of skin meeting skin, three little lies spill from his lips again and again. Words you’ll both take back in a couple of hours. Words you’ll both cry out again next week.

[solxamber]

can i ask for a deuce spade with a snow white inspired reader!! if not is fine (asking for a friend..)

Deuce Spade x Snow White! Reader

a/n: i don't know if this is what you wanted but i hope you like it <3

The first time Deuce Spade met you, it was like stepping into a fairytale. You were standing in the woods near the school, surrounded by small animals—birds perched on your shoulders, a squirrel nibbling on a nut in your hand.

He was on his way to gather potion ingredients but stopped in his tracks, staring at the scene before him.

You noticed him immediately, offering a warm smile. “Oh, hello! Are you here for the herbs? I think there are some over there,” you said, pointing to a nearby patch of greenery.

Deuce blinked, snapping out of his daze. “Uh, yeah, thanks.” He approached cautiously, trying not to startle the animals. “Are they...tame?”

“Not exactly,” you replied, laughing softly. “They just trust me. I guess they can tell I mean no harm.”

He scratched the back of his neck, glancing at the rabbit now hopping around your feet. “That’s...really cool. You’re like a real-life princess or something.”

Your cheeks warmed at the compliment, and you laughed again, the sound light and musical. “I wouldn’t go that far. I just like helping.”

“Well, it’s impressive,” Deuce said earnestly, his face turning slightly red.

Deuce discovered your talent for baking when he wandered into the kitchen one evening. The scent of apples and cinnamon filled the air, and there you were, carefully rolling out dough for a pie.

“What are you doing here so late?” he asked, stepping closer.

“Just finishing up a pie for tomorrow’s lunch,” you said, glancing up at him with a smile. “Would you like to help?"

“Me? I’m not great at cooking…”

“That’s okay. I can show you,” you said, holding out an extra apron.

Deuce hesitated but eventually slipped it on, standing beside you at the counter. Under your guidance, he peeled apples, though not without a few comical mishaps—like when an apple flew out of his hands and rolled across the floor.

“Sorry,” he muttered, embarrassed.

You laughed, picking up the rogue apple. “It’s fine. You’re doing great, Deuce.”

As the pie baked, the two of you sat at the counter, chatting. Deuce found himself staring at you, mesmerized by your kindness and the way you seemed to glow under the kitchen lights.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” he blurted out.

You blinked, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“You’re always so kind to everyone,” he said, his voice earnest. “You make people feel...safe. Like everything’s going to be okay.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked down at your hands. “Thank you, Deuce. That means a lot.”

The troubles at Night Raven College never seemed to end, and today’s issue was no different. A jealous classmate, irked by your growing popularity, had cast a minor spell on you during alchemy class. Though not harmful, it left you feeling lightheaded and faint.

Deuce was furious when he found out. “Who did this to you?” he demanded, his fists clenched.

“It’s okay,” you said softly, resting a hand on his arm. “I’m fine now.”

“No, it’s not okay,” he argued, his blue eyes blazing with determination. “No one gets to hurt you like that.”

Though his protectiveness touched your heart, you managed to calm him down, insisting that you didn’t want any trouble. Still, Deuce kept a close eye on you for the rest of the day, ensuring nothing else went wrong.

Later, when the two of you were alone, he took your hand in his, his expression serious.

“I’ll always protect you,” he said firmly. “No matter what.”

You smiled, squeezing his hand. “And I’ll always believe in you, Deuce.”

One evening, while studying together, you grew tired and dozed off at the table. Deuce noticed immediately, chuckling softly at how peaceful you looked.

He hesitated for a moment before reaching out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You’re so...perfect,” he murmured, his cheeks heating up.

Feeling bold, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his heart racing. To his surprise, your eyes fluttered open, and you blinked sleepily up at him.

“Deuce?” you mumbled, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said quickly, pulling back.

You shook your head, sitting up. “It’s okay. That was...really sweet.”

His face turned red, and he looked away, scratching the back of his neck. “I just—wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You leaned closer, kissing his cheek in return. “Thank you, Deuce. You really are my knight in shining armor.”

Deuce’s heart soared at your words, and he couldn’t help but smile, feeling like the luckiest guy in the world.

Masterlist

[mehiwilldoitlater]

Another Request ~

Macaque falls in love with Y/N? Maybe. It'd definitely be one-sided for sure.

Sorry, I'm just a sucker for the guy. Also, one-sided love is so fun to read. Loved the last request you answered psycho Macaque for the win.

- Phoenixeclipse-Lmkau 🩷

In front of him, two pieces of fabric. He pondered deeply, massaging his chin. Deep in his thoughts.

"Um, yes...yes, I see..." He esclaimed before throwing the two samples in the air. "They're the same color! I'm regretting helping you, Y/N!"

You laughed, putting on the small tablet the other samples of silk that the third and fifth sisters had brought for your dress. He collapsed on his back, in desperation, while you reached him, kneeling near him.

"I told you that it was a dirty job."

"Yeah, yeah, I know...butbi really wanted to help! As a future husband, it is my duty! And...for other reasons!"

"Other reasons?" You lay next to him, allowing him to take you in his arms, hugging you for comfort.

"Well, I can't see you in your dress, but I can imagine you!"

"Aaaw, aren't you the romantic one?" You said kissing his nose, which he enjoyed—maybe too much.

He guided you to his lips, depending on the kiss, trying to avoid tò becoming too aggressive and still taking the best from it.

"Oh gods," he gasped, his face contorted in a painful expression. "I regret this too!"

"Aaaw, baby, you wanted to keep your hands on yourself until the wedding night! Your words are not mine." You said with a mischievous grin on your face. He had to bite his tongue, avoiding Just screw everything up.

"Not the best idea of mine..."

"It was romantic! A lot to be fair."

"Yeah, and you're a walking temptation,he sighed in defeat. You had already shared your bed, to use others words, but the fact that he knew how good you were for him and putting some stakes made everything just so hard. He had urges, and so do you.

"Well," you continued caressing his chest. "We said nothing about kisUMPF!" And he didn't give you the chance to continue. 

You stayed like there, enjoying each other in that small moment, well knowing that the line between a kiss and a falling into your desire was thin like hair.

A series of giggles and shush woke you up from the trance, which made you both remember that you were technically in an area full of other mobkeys instead of your shared house.

"Just in time, uh?"

"Yup!" You said standing up, reaching the door.

"AH AH! Brother, get a room, please!"

"So scandalous!"

"As your king, I demand respect!"

The group of monkeys Just started at him, expecting them to show respect?! Yeah, sure, believed that!

Míngzé, one of the more composed ones, and the one that had opened the door, with some awkwardness, had stepped inside.

"There's someone who said he knew you, brother." He asked for you and Lady Y/N."

"Someone?" He said sitting up.

"He's a brother from afar!"

"Must be Shen!" You said with a joyful voice, "Maybe he had finally decided to come visit!"

"In that case, let's not make wait the forefather!" Yuán Fèn made a Jumo on his feet, causing some laughter from his younger siblings while others ran away to go back to their duties. The day couldn't go wrong!

///

"Hello darling..."

A white furr as snow, a pair of glowing yellow eyes, emphasized by a deep black sclera, and six ears that heard your heart stop beating, in your chest.

He just smiled; it seemed an innocent, kind one, but you were sure that inside he knew that you were struggling to not just run away from him. He feaked ignorance; he was good at lying.

Yuán Fèn held you so close that you could feel his heartbeat racing, his breath getting heavy, and his eyes literally digging daggers in the other monkey.

"Look at you! You're radiant, you know that? Honestly, you're looking like AGH!" The Macaque was able to stop the sudden attack of his counterpart just because he had his weapon ready, just in case.

"What are you doing here?!" Yuán Fèn was gnashing towards him; the other monkeys were now screaming and mimicking his own action, ready to throw rocks and whatever kind of weapon was in their hands. The other one smiled, amused by the fact that he could still pull some stringer on you and him.

"Can't a monkey try to get in touch with his kind?!"

"Your kind?! AH! We have nothing to do with you!"

"Still salty for what I did? You almost kill me; I should lash out at you." He huffed, husing his tail to get free from the stalemate.

"I'm not here to cause troubles."

"Do you think I believe you?! After what you've done?!"

"Well, no, but I guessed that two kind ones like you would hear my pleas." He looked at you; he seemed to be mocking the fact that you were renowned to be a kind soul around these parts. You wanted just to get smaller and smaller, trying to disappear from his sight. Yuán Fèn had already blocked his eyes on you, putting himself in front of him.

"She's the kind one; I would love to smash your head."

More than a threat, the macaque rollers his eyes bored by the other monkey's hyper-portective behavior. Seriously, couldn't he just move in and forget that he tried to kill him, take his place, and almost amputate your leg? What a bommer.

"Listen, "he sighed," as much as I would love to kick your ass again."

"Yes, of course. Dream on."

"Thank you; I'm really here without malevolent intent! I...Need your help." By saying that, he gestured both of you.

You widened your eyes: he needed your what?!

Yuán fèn face contorted in a growling expression; he didn't buy it a single word, the Macaque was saying, and nobody wanted to hear his stupid plea of help. A small revenge for what he had done before...

The Macaque understood that the two of you weren't convinced, so he tried more.

"I've nowhere to go. As far as I know, the Celestial Realm never saw monkeys in a good way, and those old Bián huá survivors aren't the most nice with our kind. And, since it's clear I'll never regain my full power, at least I wanted to plead for asylum."

Yuán Fèn emitted an outraged scoff. How dare he ask for asylum?! Especially after what he had done! He went to you, moving away to discuss the matter, even if, for him, nothing was to debate.

"I'll make him leave. Just give me a few minutes, okay?"

You looked at him...then to the ground, biting your cheeks.

"...OOOOH no!" He crossed his arms. "You can't really consider him staying here!"

"Yeah, but...think about it! If he's here, we can control him, and he can have a home! Is a win-win!"

"I don't want a win-win; I want me to win and him to leave!" The monkey was exasperated by your suggestion. You sighed, massaging your temples.

"I want him around as much as you, but... leaving him dying out there won't make us different from him."

"...so you're basically telling me to be the bigger person?"

"Basically, yes."

He groaned in defeat. You were right, he had to be a good king, and even Wukong would prefer to be on good terms with that monster.

And, since now he knew that he was not a dead corpse rotting somewhere, he couldn't just let him run off like he was nothing. Again, you were right: keeping him near you both was a good way to monitor him.

"How much I wish to be the small one..."" he turned toward the macaque, suppressing the urge to smack away that smirk of his face.

"You can stay."

"Aaaw, brother, I know you-"

"Do not, Brother, me! I haven't finished!" He pointed the iron rod toward him. "If I even heard, no, sniff, that you're planning something, I'll erase the memory of you from this world. Am I clear?!"

His smirk disappeared from his face, sending the seriousness in the other tone.

"Crystalline."

///

You were so regretting it, and you and no one to blame but yourself. You were too arrogant to believe that you could stand even in the same place as him, and it was clear to everyone that this thing was stressing you out.

"Big sister, are you there?"

You looked at the small monkey, confused on why you were cleaning that pearl for five minutes straight.

"...y...yes!"

"You look worried... Is that creepy guy again??!"

When the small one started to greet her teeth like a small piranha, you were already in awe at how such a small cutie pie like that could become such a menace to the world.

Well, all the monkeys were cute until someone of their own felt threatened or there was a danger around. Which, to your prospective, were now both on the plate right now.

"Nooo, no, no! Please no more grrr and no more rawr here! I Just Need...some peace, that all."

Thing that was true, again, you were in a mental mess since you both decided to let that psycho stay at Mount Huaguo. You couldn't focus correctly, and the few times that you had to breath was when you had to visit the Spider sister to talk about the wedding and everything.

Every day was another fight. Despite you both letting the macaque stay, Yuán Fèn had always shown nothing but animosity towards the other male, and this had been murrored by the other monkeys. 

Even if he was supposed to work alongside others, the same monkeys had tried to attack him or push him away. During the meals, he was forced to go and eat away from the group, and even the night he had to sleep somewhere else.

You stayed silent, observing the flowers and the flowers around you.

"Say, why don't you bring me one of these snacks that I like? ...We can share!"

The promise of free food made the monkey dart from her spot to the door in a second, disappearing in a few screams and laughter.

You too laughed with yourself, giving you the chance to calm lady down and relax in the silence. Who knows, a good action could have led to such successful events? Well, it was better to not think about it at the moment...

You were almost there, ready to fall in a small nap, when you sensed the light of the sun from the window was clouded by something. You didn't think about it at that moment...

"Slacking of work, uh?"

You gasped and rose up immediately, looking at the window. His white tail moved slowly in waves, his chin on his hands, looking at you with some half-open eyes.

You jumped on your own two feet, pointing one of the many hairpins at him as a makeshift weapon.

"What are you doing here?!"

"I'm enjoying the view, of course!" He used that cheerful tone, reminding you of the day that he almost made you list a leg. He snickered, lowering down the hairpin with his tail.

"Relax, I'm not here to make a mess...for now."

You rolled your eyes, forced now to go back to the jewelry instead to relax like you were doing a few minutes before.

"Those are a lot of treasures here," he said, getting down from the window and taking one of the gens with his foot. "Have you decided to steal someone?"

"They are garmet for my wedding robe. Friends had sent too much of these, and now I had to decide which one I wanted."

"Wedding,?!" He threw away the gen that you caught before he could break it. "And since when did monkey get married?!"

"Since," you said, start to save everything from his grasp," me and Yuán Fèn are pretty much very in love, and since it's something nice to be done."

"OOOOH, so you coerced the poor king?"

"I didn't coerce him!" You said offended." He proposed, and I accepted! ...like you could understand..."

Why he had to put his nose in your business?! He was lucky that it was you around and not your fiancé since he was already One step closer to smashing his skull.

"And by the way," you said, fixing on yourself another pair of earrings. "Why are you here? Aren't you suppose to work?"

"Well, I did have the intention to help around, but," he said, sitting on the edge of the window, "your future husband's little servants didn't enjoy my presence...so I left them."

"Wait, wait," you started to face him, a little more concerned than before. "They told you that?"

"Not exactly the same words, but gritty teeth and snarls are quite explanatory themselves."

So it wasn't just about the food and sleep, even in the working hours...you started to scratch your arm, nervous from this revelation. A part of you wanted him to suffer, yes, but another knows that this was too much.

Despite their mimicking of normal human lives, monkeys were still monkeys. He was a stranger—one that once had even hurt you and their leader. If you two felt unsafe, the entire group needed to intervene, and even if you did accept him, more for pity than for anything else, you still felt uneasy around him, and they were acting for you.

"Maybe I could...try to talk to them?"

He arched his head, now looking at you with a curious glim in his eyes.

"I mean, to let you help. So they'll gonna Let you work and won't make a fuss about it."

He stayed silent after your suggestion. Then he started to giggle, then chuckled, until he just erupted in a big laugh.

"You...want...you want to...oh oh! This is hilarious! You think that they will listen?!"

"Yes, they will!" You responded with an offended tone in your voice.

He calmed his laugh and took a step closer to you. This time, you didn't flitch.

"Darling...Y/N...honey, this is not a human village...and the monkey king servants hates me more than everyone else does!...but it's not all bad."

"Ah!" Now this was your time to laugh, feeling more irritated with those nicknames. "Pray to tell?"

"Firstly," he started with his finger, "I can do what I want, and no one cares what I do until I do something bad. And second..."

He paused, looking at your figure. Your foot was tapping on the ground, your eyes were thinging, and your face was in an annoyed glare. He stopped more closer; only now you noticed the vicinity, which made you uncomfortable. His finger touched your face, giving you a small buffet on your cheek. 

"If I'm busy working, I can't mess with you."

You gulped; all your bravado left your body. 

He enjoyed that view, seeing you all a mess. After trying to sound so strong. He could really look at that forever...until a small monkey started to throw at him snacks that you like.

///

"You want WHAT?!" You covered your ears, while Yuán Fèn had literally thrown away the apples that he started to pick.

You had to avoid the fruits too, but you never lost sight of your husband.

"It's just letting him work! It's not such a bad option!"

"I would love to help you, Y/n, but you can't ask the others to accept him!"

"But why?!"

"Because," he jumped down the tree, cleaning one of the fruits that he had picked and gave it to you. "Monkeys don't work well with threats."

"I'm not saying that you have to threatened them!" You have a bite of the fruit. "I'm just saying that they need to learn how to cooperate!"

He hummed, thinking about your idea. He knew how kind you could be—too much for your own good, but he had to admit that you were right on your own part.

"So... less he stays around, less he's going to do evil staff?"

"More or less, yes!"

He hummed again, clearly reconsidering your idea. And, by the way, he needed to work around the colony, or he would be Just a freeloader... A freeloader with an evil plan. And, since all of this happened when he couldn't come to kick his butt After touching you, it seemed like a pretty good option on his part.

The next day, with your satisfaction, you heard about the Macaque being part of the team that was supposed to take care of the vegetables, and, with the same satisfied smile, you decided to go and take a look.

You founded him there, taking care of the snails and the small parasites against some lettuces—clearly not a job for someone that wanted to take the place of Sun Wukong.

"Enjoying your work day?" You chirped happily, and the monkey looked at you with an annoyed glare. How the table turns...

"I would prefer," he putted a snail in the bucket, "to have a more... less parasitic job."

"Ooh, don't be such a baby! You're doing great!" You laugh while the monkey just sighed while fighting another snail.

///

As every night, he took what he needed and left the area where everybody was supposed to eat. 

"Hey," you looked at Yuán Fèn. "Where he's going?" He looked at the monkey, following your finger, chewing a small piece of rise bun.

"I guess he's going to eat alone."

"Alone? Why?"

"I don't think the others are feeling that safe to have him around."

You looked at the macaque, eating alone under a tree—not so far but not that near to track attention. You felt again that sensation in your chest, the pressing feeling... and you were getting the name of it.

You felt guilty.

He gave a small sip of his soup when he noticed the movement of a skirt, the smell of meat near him, and a not-so-stranger perfume.

"Your fiancé is going to kill me."

"Maybe, but I'll spend eternity with him. One lunch with you, what could happen?"

He looked at you between his eyelids, hiding between them and the small spoon. How curious you were with that strange attitude of yours. Firstly, you were ready to smack him with a broom. Now you were there, eating your dinner all nice and cozy, with no trace of fear of his past actions. Well, maybe there was still some fear, but maybe you started to grow out of it?

And, while the two of you were eating in silence, you didn't notice the approaching of three young monkeys. Those were some teens, and by the looks of them, they were training in the martial arts. They sat a few meters away, looking at the two of you, sharing looks and talking between themselves. You noticed them and felt a rush of nervousness.

"Calm down," the macaque spoke. They just want to talk to me."

"Oh! And how do you know?" He just trapped one of his six ears, making you remember that he had an amazing gift there. You looked at the small group back again, then called for them.

"Come closer! He doesn't bite!" He begged to differ.

The three monkeys didn't lose that chance to get closer to eat alongside you and pester with question one of the few that put their future king down. It was a peaceful night, even if all of you were under the not so pleased eyes of your lover. 

///

Days start to pass, and with the change of the sky, even the Macaque had to noticed some changes in him.

Before, he was feared, hated, left behind, and mistrusted. Now he has to look at three teenage monkeys that want to become stronger and that want to learn something different. He has duties around the colony, and a few ask him for his consulence. He wasn't always welcome, but he was tolerated by the others—all because of little you.

You with that almost bothersome optimistic nature, you with that annoying way to look at everyone and try to see equality, you with that kindness that had made enemies trust you.

You feared him; he hurt you. When did you stop feared him and felt sympathy?

Oh, wait, he knows when... that time at the river...

"Now, be honest with me." You said, posing down the scroll full of names and invitations.

"Why were you trying to steal the relics? I got the all-powerful being thing, but it was just that? Nothing less?"

He darted his eyes from his disciples to you, cursing your curiosity and your ability to read between lines. He sighed, shifting his weight from one leg to another.

"What am I to you?"

"An edgy monkey."

"Not that, i mean regarding the story."

You moved your head, trying to understand his words. What you knew was that he was some kind of evil monkey that wanted to take his place during the journey, but their motivations or his reasons never were explained at all. By the time you needed to find the reason, he understood about your confusion. 

"I guessed, back there, "he finally spoke," that if I was able to get the sutras, everyone would have finally acknowledged me. What I didn't understand back there was that Sun Wukong was behind this... and I was supposed to be just his copy forever."

His silence struck you, but not as much as his words. So that was it? He wanted to exist as himself... Despite the senplicity, for someone that was bound to be Just Sun Wukong, the evil twin It was... A lot 

That's why he wanted the relics; with those he would have been able to exist. To you, it felt simple yet so complicated.

"I do believe you exist."

He turned around, looking at you. Your face was adorned with that gentile smile that had bound many before him.

"I don't think you need the relics for this, but, as much as it could matter, I do think you exist for everyone else."

From that day on, after those words, you were more Kinder than before. You searched for him, asked him things, walked with him, and more.

And so his mind started to act different.

He wanted for you to search for him, to meet him, to call for him. He wanted you to desire for him to burn like that flame in his chest.

He wanted you, and he knew how wrong It was... but after all, he was bad...

He believed that it was just a small fantasy, something like a silly idea. How could he love? Love was above him, a creature born only to be the malice of someone else. 

He always wanted to be more; no one even cared to understand...but you did. You talked to him; you gave him a second chance, and he opened himself to you.

You have that power over Yaoguais, tò Just be so fucking nice and gentle, to be a different view.

You made him imagine things. You made him dream of courting you, to take you away from that wedding of yours, far too near to his own liking. He dreamed of fighting properly against the Destined One and winning you, and...and you were happy. You were happy to be with him.

///

"Thank you for the help. I REALLY needed another pair of arms!"

He hummed, looking around, trying to see if someone was looking for you or if you were watched.

No one was around...

"So you were saying that those mushrooms were on this side of the mountain?"

"Yeah... Just a little further. It's far from the village, so no one comes here."

Why did you have to be so trustful? Why did you believe that he had changed? He would have tried this if it wasn't for your naiveté.

No... No It wasn't you... It was him, the bad guy of the story.

While you both get deeper in the mountain, he opted so many times to stop, to just find some mushrooms and leave it...but he was too deep now, and he didn't want to stop.

Hours passed, and more you both got on that road, and more darkness started to fall. But you felt safe—too much safe, and he was taking advantage of that.

Finally, you spotted what you were searching for, under the base of a lonely tree. You gasped, happily knowing that your search did give you results, and you ran towards those mushrooms, starting to pick them up.

"There are so many! Look! Ah! You're so good at finding staff!"

You didn't see his body moving towards you, his staff in his hand.

You would understand; you always do. He would even take the form of Yuán Fèn if you wanted, just to make you happy and comfortable, but he needed it.

He needed the love you showed the other to him. He wanted your total attention.

He wanted you.

He prayed for your forgiveness while rising his staff.

"There! Done! I guess these are...uh?"

He was gone? Where did the Macaque go?

///

The trident puerced his shoulder, going so deep that the metal met the wood. The macaque needed to hold a scream of pain, scratching the metal of that weapon and trying to break free from it.

Erlang's piercing eyes didn't show remoteness against the monkey; she stopped to look at him with a silent hate and disdain.

"Despicable One... She trusted you, and this is how you're repaying her?! I knew I should have acted immediately when you set foot at Mount Huaguo, but I couldn't believe you could go this far."

The macaque looked at the celestial being in front of him. So that was why many other deities had left alone the mountain because of the sacred divinity protection? 

"Big words," he mattered between his hiss of pain, "for someone that kiled monkeys for sport!"

Erlang looked at him without trace of any emotion this time; he hated when people used old mistakes to make him feel bad, like he wasn't already.

"And I'm not the one that is trying to take away another groom's bride."

The Macaque was intelligent enough to see something else in that pure hate look on the divinity's face, and he couldn't hold a laugh at the event that was unfolding upon him. Erlang looked at him, annoyed by his antics.

"So you fell too, uh?! You fell for her! This is too good to be true!"

"I suggest you to watch your mouth, monkey."

"I watch mine, but at least I have some guts to actually act. You're nothing but a coward, too afraid of rejection than fighting for the hand of the one you love!"

Erlang didn't answer his provocation, yet he saw it. In his eyes, he did leave a mark with his words. The Celestial being freed the monkey from his grasp, but his weapon was still pointed towards him, even when he was at his knees.

"It's because I love her so much that I decided to stand back. And for love, I'll keep fighting to be his protector and shield against the skies and the other celestials. And I gladly can make some space for you too, monkey."

Despite the threat, the macaque couldn't do anything but smile. So that was it, eh? Old Erlang Shen has fallen for you and wanted to be your champion. He could have had another joker, but the idea of dying wasn't appealing at all.

"I trust that my words reached you, monkey." His weapon was sharper than ever right now.

"They did, sacred divinity."

And so that was his destiny—long for something that he wished but couldn't have—such was his life, uh?

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[madamechrissy]

Take Me Home Tonight

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ Law Professor Satoru Gojo x Student Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Gojo is like 29 here, reader is like 22 or 23. Nothing too crazy. But is Professor/teacher forbidden type love. In this chap- Fingering, teasing, orgasm denialexplicit sex, breeding kink, desperate needy GOJO (ANGSTY CHAP)

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ 8.8k

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ After passing your LSATs, your friends take you out to unwind. You never go out, so you are awkwardly agree, and you end up in the arms of a super hot man named Satoru. You end up screaming Satoru's name as he drops down on his knees before you, only to lose him in the club. All you have is his first name. Two months later, in your Criminal Law class, your heart stops. Your teacher? Professor Gojo. Or as you soon call him, Professor Dickhead. You can't fuck up your law school, and he won't fuck up his career, not just because he makes you wet in class, no, he's a dick. Right? That pout and blue eyes don't wreck you, right? - Lawyer AU

Chapter 10 ♡ ♡ Masterlist ♡ ♡ Playlist

♡ ♡ Chapter 11 ♡ ♡

Present

You both stand there now, right in front of Dean Yaga, who is sitting at his desk with your fight with Naoya on the damn tv, pausing when you both kiss after you’ve smacked him with a briefcase. Satoru’s hands are in his pockets, and he’s rolling his pretty blue eyes, as you nervously look down at your feet, as you clench your fists, opening and closing them, panic setting in.

Satoru was going to hate what you’ve done.

The evening before

“Hello?” You’d answered the door tentatively last night, after an exhausting trip back home with Satoru, and you instantly recognized these two, there was no denying the resemblance. This woman with snow white hair and dark blue eyes, and the man with silvery gray hair and brilliant blue eyes.

Fuck.

Those are Gojo’s eyes, except where Gojo’s were so kind, these two had the coldest gaze, so cold it made you shiver just to stand near them. They just stand there, too, looking so intimidating you shrink back now, haughty with this air that Gojo certainly did not have, looking right down their perfect straight noses right at you.

Satoru Gojo’s mom is decked out in some white fur coat, giving some wicked Cruella Duvill vibes, and his dad is wearing an expensive suit, arching a brow as he looks you up and down. They both spare you no pleasantries whatsoever, merely crossing their arms and looking at you with disgust.

“So you’re the new little whore, hmm?” His father asks, and it’s your turn to glare as you stand in your dorm, clutching onto this brass knob, your hand sweaty against it as you endure them.

“Excuse me? Watch your tone, I don’t care how much money you have, you don’t get to speak to me that way.” You say then, earning a raised brow and shared look between them.

“You’re the reason our son now has a record, and has embarrassed the family. You’re also the reason he lost that case, and are straining relationships with the Zenin now.” His father says, and you shrink back then.

“The source of all his problems.” His mom says, eyeing you critically. “He’s been talking of marrying you, imagine.”

Your heart drops.

What?

“As if we’d let you be in our family. A commoner, an orphan.” You blink back tears, as they sting your eyes, stepping back from the onslaught of Gojo’s mother and father.

“How…”

“Oh, we know all about you.” They push their way through as Gojo’s father scoffs and shivers like your dorm is so disgusting, shutting the door behind them. You step back, their presence is fucking horrific. “Isn’t hard to get information.”

How had Satoru ever had to endure these people!?

“Sure, let yourselves in.” You grumble, as they stand there, arms crossed, glaring at you. “I’m sorry about that fight, okay? Naoya threatened me and Satoru just wanted to protect me.”

“Why were you even there?” His mom asks. You sigh.

“I’m a good law student, and was helping Gojo with his case-”

“By spreading your legs and making him think he’ll marry you?” His dad asks sardonically, making you damn near sob right then, your heart pounding in your chest so hard you hear it in your ears.

“You have no clue about our relationship, and no clue who your son even is. Do you know all the hard work he puts in!?”

“So we’ll give you two options.” His mom sits now, daintily on your couch, whipping out her purse now, then she pulls out four fat wads of cash in rubber bands and tosses it at you. It hits you in the face, and you catch it, your eyes widening in horror.

“What’s this for, I don’t fucking want that!” You demand as your blood pressure is rising and making you hot, and when Gojo’s mom smiles, it’s so cold it’s eerie it sends shivers down your spine.

“Take this, it’s forty thousand. Plenty to leave and go to some other law school, it’s your best offer. We’ll make sure no one knows about you and our son, and you can start over somewhere else. Far away from here. Far from Gojo. You’ll never see him again, and you will never talk to him.” She says, as Gojo’s dad nods, his eyes unwavering.

You clutch the money, so much you can feel your knuckles pop, your eyes narrowed into slits now with anger at them. At their audacity, at their blatant cruelty, wanting their son so unhappy. “What the fuck kind of option is that!? Why do you get to determine your son’s fate! He’s thirty!”

“If you don't, we force him to quit, and come work for the family, and we’ll make sure everyone knows about the slutty little whore who tries to ruin our son’s career. We’ll make your life a living hell, and Gojo will be at our beck and call. We know people worse than Naoya, we’ll make sure if Gojo doesn’t, you’ll be gone for good.” You feel horror clutching at your chest at their words, especially Gojo’s mother.

You realize now, that they had paid for Naoya to win, and forced Gojo’s hand, a suspicion you had beforehand. They likely knew what the fuck Naoya has done, and that’s why he was acting so smug, because he had Gojo’s family backing him. He’d already made bail mysteriously, it all starts to make more and more sense, as their despicable nature makes you sick.

Fuck them. Fuck all of them.

You toss the money at Gojo’s mom’s face, and she flinches, her nose turning up, and you’re so mad, so mad you want to just scream and beat them to a pulp. “I’d never take a dime from you, and I’m not going anywhere. If you want to keep him out of my life, you’re going to have to go through me, and I dare you to try it.” Her fury radiates in your little dorm.

“You stupid little bitch!” His mom stands up, slapping you in the face then, you suck in a breath at it, glaring, it takes everything in you not to punch Satoru’s mom in her pretty, snobby little face.

“You have no right to control him, and you will never control me. You think just because you have power that you have power over your son’s happiness?”

Their eyes widen, and Gojo’s dad stands, so does his mom, and you realize you’ve made a mistake. You’re shaking so badly you might just collapse. “We’ll ruin you. We’ll tell everyone how you seduced our son, how you’re just a little whore, trying to get what you can get, and you’ll be kicked out of law school. Your career will be over before it started, and guess who will come back to us to save you?”

“Gojo will do anything for you. Is that what you want for him?” His dad says, and you feel sick, like you can’t even breathe as you stare at them.

“You all are fucking awful. You ruin me all you want, leave him the fuck alone.” You stomp over to the door, going to open it, and Gojo’s mom yanks you by your hair, making you gasp in pain and surprise. You glare up at her, and she’s smirking down at you then.

“Sounds like we’ll get him back with us, then, but trust us, we won’t have poverty trash in our family.” She hisses.

“You don’t have a say in his life. He’s done fine without you, fuck I’d prefer an orphanage over you two.” His mom shoves you into the door now, glaring down at you once more, and at this point his father is just looking at his nails so casually, as if this is common for her.

“You have a big mouth. Want it shut forever?” He asks softly, and you look over to him in horror.

“You all are not fucking serious. Death threats?”

“Promises. We need you gone, Dean Yaga already is set to transfer you far away, we paid him off.” Gojo’s mom’s words are like knives in your stomach, you feel nausea rolling over you in waves.

“If you really love him, you won’t put yourself in more danger.” His dad says, and you start to feel your entire body on fire, as they shove that money back in your hands, gripping your hands into fists.

“Why? What have I even done, you don’t even know me. You don’t even know your own son. What sort of parents are you?” You demand quietly, because now you wonder what the fuck they’ve done to him, now Gojo sobbing about how he doesn’t help anyone makes perfect sense.

They’d put that in his head, the insecurity Gojo hides behind shiny white teeth and a cocky attitude, one you now have learned is a cover, an act, so that he doesn’t get hurt. But Gojo could drop that act with you, fuck Gojo had said forever just the other night, and now they want to destroy it, destroy the happiness you’ve found, and if you don’t go along with it…

They’ll hurt him.

“We let him be a lawyer if you go. You want that, don’t you?” His mom asks, and you’re sobbing now, so broken as you imagine what they’ve done to the man you love growing up. How had he become such an amazing person from them?

“Please don’t do this. I swear I would be good to him. I’ll give up school, law, don’t make me give up Toru.” You beg, sobbing now, tears running hot and sticky out of reddening eyes. They show no caring, no remorse, staring at you with cold eyes that look like Gojo’s, but they couldn’t be further.

“Toru, huh? Well if you love him, you’ll leave.” They shove you, and they walk out, and you collapse on the couch, crying into your hands, feeling so damn pathetic, so helpless, so alone. They had so much power, so much control, and here you were, just trying to be with the goddamn man you love, and it’s like the world is against you.

You can’t do this to Satoru. You can’t.

You sob and sob and sob, and ignore Gojo’s calls, until you shut your phone off for the night. How can you do that to him, how can you be so selfish you ruin his life? Remembering that moment he left that courtroom for you, and that now he has damn near ruined his career to protect you…

Were they right?

Were you horrible for him!?

Present

“You’ve made a smart decision, transferring.” The Dean says then, and Gojo’s mouth drops, sputtering as he looks at you in shock. You struggle not to break into the tears you’d been in this morning, as you watch the love of your life slowly lose his mind over your actions.

“What the fuck!? No she won’t be! This is the best law school-”

“In Japan. Not worldwide.” He cuts Satoru off, and your eyes squeeze shut as you know Satoru is going to fucking lose it.

“Excuse me!?” Satoru screams, slamming his fist on Dean Yaga’s desk now, and you can’t control the tears that fall anymore, you just sniffle them up.

“America, Harvard law. You can’t get more prestigious-”

Gojo cuts him off with a maniacal laugh, mirthless as he runs his hand through his white hair. “America! America? The fuck?”

Dean Yaga strokes his beard with his hand, sighing and leaning back in his office chair. “It’s her best shot, she’ll be hugely successful and as far away from you as she can be. Her other option is to never do law again, and forgo any financial aid for school ever again, disbarred for life.”

Satoru picks up Dean Yaga’s papers, flinging them all across the room, floating around in the quiet office. “Then I’ll leave. Then I’ll move with her.”

“You’ll stay here if you even want her to have that chance, or her career is ruined forever.” Satoru turns to you then, gripping your shoulders, staring at you with insane blue eyes, shattering your heart into pieces.

“You can’t have been okay with this, where’s the fighter? Where’s the girl that smacked that piece of shit Naoya with the briefcase? Where is forever?” He demands, tears filling his own eyes as he shakes you, and you just shatter, unable to even look at him, turning away and burying your face, sobs wracking your body as he shouts your name.

“Leave her be, she made the best decision for both of you, and it clearly was not an easy one. If she didn’t you’d lose your license to do law, and both of your careers, Satoru.” He says, and you hear Satoru’s fist punch something then, making you jerk from the noise.

“Fuck that, really after all I’ve done? You don’t have the power to get rid of my license.”

“I don’t, but others do. She made the right decision. If you care about her you’ll support that, and you won’t conduct yourself this way again with a student.”

Satoru scoffs then, as you peer at him through watery eyes. “As if I’d want anyone else. Nah fuck this, I’ll just leave law, then-”

“Toru, you can’t, you can’t.” You say pleadingly, looking at him with growing fear, of what his parents will do if he won’t. “Toru I chose this.”

He glares now, shaking his head and grabbing your face between his hands, palms freezing cold on your face. “No, you didn’t! He did!”

“It wasn’t even-”

“No! You won’t go anywhere.”

“She will be prestigious, it’s an ideal situation for her, a full ride scholarship to Havard law? Kids like her from such a background can only dream of it.” Dean Yaga says, and Satoru goes to punch him then, only stopped by you yanking on him desperately.

“Toru, no. Please.” You whisper, pleadingly holding his shoulders, and he stops then, heaving breaths, shaking his head again as if to wake up.

“This won’t stand.” Satoru says, and Yaga sighs, rubbing old tired eyes. “You want her to leave everything she knows?”

“She already is set to start in a week. She’ll be better off, Satoru. Now, you’re both dismissed.” He says, and you run out, as Satoru is chasing you, but how do you say it? How do you leave!? The only place you ever felt like home.

“Stop fucking running, stop it.” Satoru yanks you then, his eyes full of confusion and hurt, then when you pull out that envelope from your laptop case, and hand it to him, and he opens it and sees the money, his face drops. You watch realization dawn when he opens it and sees the money. “No…”

“I don’t want it. You take it and burn it for all I care. But yes, if I don’t do this, if I don’t leave and never see you again, Gojo they’ll force you back to the company, and they’ll… get rid of me. Forever. This is our best option so you can still do what you love, I can’t take that from you.” You whisper, and his entire face falls, his beautiful face so forlorn it devastates you.

“The fuck, what’d they say? What’d they do to make you run like this?” The courtyard is gathering around the spectacle that is you two now, and he’s just pulling you closer, cupping your face, struggling to understand.

“They were threatening me, and you if I don’t disappear… they’re horrible, those connections with the Zenin, they have too much power, I can’t let them hurt you-”

“Nah, fuck this. Fuck all of this.” He stomps back into the office, and you follow him, trying to stop him as he slams back into the Dean’s office.

“Satoru…” The Dean says tiredly, and Satoru laughs then at him, yanking off the lanyard and slamming it down.

“I fucking quit.” He says, turning then and the dean stands up.

“You won’t quit, or she won’t even go to Harvard. That’s not an option, or part of our agreement.”

“You’re fucking in on this with my parents, aren’t you?” He demands, looking at him, only for the dean to look down.

“I’m sorry, Satoru but-”

“You are, you are with my parents, and for how long!? They were in your pockets, they weren’t deep enough?” He asks through gritted teeth, big fists clenched so hard you see the veins are raised.

“Listen to me, this is how you stay away from charges, of not just being with a student, but purposefully throwing a case and assault on Naoya. You’ll do potential prison time.” He says then, and Satoru laughs, even crazier.

“I’d lawyer my way out of it, who do you think I am? I’m Satoru Gojo, I can do whatever the hell I want.”

“Then your reputation is ruined. At least this way, your parents will fix it and sweep it under the rug, but only if she leaves. Don’t you see she’s sacrificing herself for you? Don’t be stupid, take this opportunity-”

“You think I care about myself? Nah, fuck you. Oh and let my parents know I’m visiting, we’re gonna have a nice chat.” He drags you by the hand as he walks out, rushing past groups of onlookers and eavesdroppers, and he takes you all the damn way until you’re in front of his car, finally letting you catch a breath.

“Satoru just let me go. You’ll ruin your life for me, don’t do that please!” You’re a mess now, feeling your throat constrict, your chest tightening as you beg the man you love to just let you go.

He cups your face then tightly, staring down at you, his eyes a whirlwind of emotions. “I’ll do anything for you, anything. You’re my life, you, baby. There’s nothing else for me. Why can’t you see that?”

“Oh, Toru…” You’re sobbing now, as he slams his lips on yours, as he hungrily pulls you against him, kissing you over and over, and you melt then, how can you leave him, how could you live? “I don’t know how I’d live without you. My oxygen, my sun, gone.” He’s trembling as he keeps kissing you, pressing you against his car, to a growing audience.

“There’s no living without me, brat. You can’t get rid of me.” He says then, and you both laugh through your tears, desperately clinging to him, as his strong arms wrap your waist, as you are terrified of what the fuck was going to happen, but all you can think is how good he feels, how you can’t let him go.

The murmurs of the onlookers are just static in a television to the sound of your and Gojo’s labored breaths as you stare into each other’s eyes. You know he’s upset you thought of it, of giving up, because of your fear of him being hurt, and fuck if that doesn’t cut deep.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I should have told you, I-”

“No, no, I understand. They’re pieces of shit, and intimidating. Did they hurt you, baby girl?” He whispers, caressing your cheek, and you shake your head, throat tight with emotion as he bends low over you.

“Your mom just slapped me and pulled my hair, that’s it.” Gojo’s grip tightens as you speak, his teeth clenching together, pretty features devastated.

“The fuck?” He bites out.

“Nothing harsh, she’s kinda weak. Prissy. A bitch.” Satoru smiles sharply then, through his own emotion, brushing back your hair and taking shaky breaths as if stroking your hair calms him too. As if he needed you to be real, just like you needed him to be.

“You sure could say that. Now go get your shit, you’re moving in with me.” You gasp in shock, he can’t be serious.

“I can’t!” You say, and he shrugs, kissing you softly, over and over, until for a moment you’re just a girl in his arms.

“You sure can. I’m so rich I could never work again, so fuck all this, and they’ll have you out of here anyway. You’re packing your shit today. And I’ll figure my piece of shit parents out.”

“They’re dangerous, Toru.” You whisper, and he sighs, his lips set firmly.

“I know they are, you have no clue how dangerous, but you underestimate me, little brat you know that?” He is opening the car door then, looking back at the growing crowd of students. “We have an audience, how cute… you really want them to watch us fuck?”

“Satoru oh my god, how can you think about that right now?” You demand, sliding in the seat now, a blushing mess, and he smirks, buckling you up, leaning down across you, as you inhale that scent, the one you never want to leave your senses. He slides next to you then, on his side, starting the car with a purr.

“You think I don’t always want you? You think I would let you leave me?” He starts the air, it blows cold on your overheated skin, leaning across to kiss you once more, so deeply, and you exhale, pressing up for more, as he ignites that tension in your tummy. “You won’t leave me.”

“I don’t want to, I’d be miserable for the rest of my life, Toru, but I love you so much I had to try to protect you.” He laughs softly, thumbs brushing aside the fresh onslaught of tears, then over your swollen lip, pulling it from your teeth.

“It’s my job to protect you, not the other way around.”

“No, it’s our jobs to protect each other, stubborn man.” You whisper, resting your foreheads together as he caresses your waist with his long, gentle fingers, hands overtaking it, your breaths intermingling.

“We will figure it the fuck out together, do you hear me? Now, you’re grabbing what you need for the night, we’ll get the rest of your shit out tomorrow.” Your heart races at his insane plan, was there a plan really?

“This is fucking insane. What’s our game plan?” You ask softly, and he just smirks down at you.

“That’s for me to worry about.”

“Satoru, don't you dare try to sacrifice yourself or something! You can’t go work for them.”

“You mean like you just tried to sacrifice yourself?” He demands, raising a brow, then he dials a number as he begins to drive, making you tense. “Yeah, it sure the fuck is me, your favorite son. Heard you met my fiance?”

Fiance!?

You’re staring with your mouth wide open, brows raised, as he winks over at you, so casually controlling the car and the phone, where you can hear the muffled noises of his mother’s screams.

“Mmm, here’s the thing mom, if you remember correctly, at age thirty I get half your company, as long as I get married. Remember? Mmm, so guess who’s hearing wedding bells.”

Your heart stops.

“You’re marrying her?” You hear the shriek clearly, making Satoru’s mouth quirk up at one corner.

“Sure the fuck am, and you knew that, that’s why you went after her. But you’ve gone way too far, smack me all you want but you don’t touch her. So guess what I’m gonna do with my half when I get my shares? Run your company into the fucking ground, till you have nothing.”

Satoru’s voice is so calm it’s eerie, and you realize how much power Satoru has, how much he’s been holding back, and your love for him grows more, as your hand rests on his thigh, encouraging him.

“Oh so now you wanna talk, huh? What a turn of events, you’re so sweet to wanna see me, Mother. Oh she’ll be with me, all right, so you can fix it, you’re gonna fix all this shit if you don’t want me to ruin you.” He hangs up, tossing the phone into the backseat, and you just stare at him, your heart racing, your breathing erratic.

“Fiancé? Did you just say that to piss them off?” You whisper, and he looks at you with a soft smile, eyes full of warmth.

“No, I said that because it’s the truth, baby girl. The best way to protect you, is to marry you.”

“Marry… marry me?” You whisper, and he sighs, stopping in front of your dorm now. “But they hate me, that won’t just go away, Toru…”

His phone rings, and he sighs, scowling at it, as you lean back to grab it, handing it over to him. “Yeah, what? I sure do fucking quit. Oh, did my mommy call you, how charming Yaga. You can fuck yourself with your dumbass offer. Oh I’m so popular suddenly, you wanna meet with me? Well you’ll have to wait, I have to fuck my fiance tonight. She’s not my student right now anyway.”

Satoru smashes his thumb down angrily, chest heaving, leaning his head back then and covering his face. “Toru, baby, look at me.”

He lets you lift his hands from his eyes, which are full of a myriad of emotions, you feel his pulse race under your thumb as you cup his jaw, your thumb right on his pulse point. “Now Yaga wants to make a better deal, but guess what, I’m just in my parents pockets here. Even when I wanted to be on my fucking own.”

“You’ve done this on your own, jesus I don’t know how you turned out this amazing, they’re fucking awful. I couldn’t stand ten minutes.” He places his hand on your chest, over your beating heart now. “So we’re meeting them?”

“Sure are, but you’ll have a ring on your finger.”

“That’s insane talk you know!”

“Is it? Is it? I would marry you right now. They can go fuck themselves, all of it can burn to the ground for all I care if it means you’re safe and happy. They can’t take that from me, they can’t take you from me.” He says, and you feel your heart swell in your chest, feeling a spark of hope amidst the chaos.

“You shouldn’t have to do all of this for me.” You say, forlornly looking down, and he squeezes your leg, bringing your attention to him, as those lights from the sun filter through the tinted windows of his car, illuminating the planes of his perfect features, taking your breath away for a moment.

How could you have left?

But you’re so scared for him.

“What, marry you?” His words alone make you tremble, they seem so insane, you try to process it.

“That can’t be what you wanted, how you wanted-”

“You think I don’t want to? You think this is just for protection?”

“Well it’s crazy, we barely just got together! We…”

“Do you want to?” He says then, softly, and you hear his vulnerability, you see it on his handsome face.

“Do I want to marry Satoru Gojo? Yes, of course I do. But because we want to one day, not forced to.”

“There’s no forcing it, just speeding up the process. You think there’s anyone for me, ever again?” He demands, and you sigh, shaking your head.

“I know you love me, I know how much. And Satoru I love you even more.”

“You can’t. There’s no way. You consume me. I’ll burn the shit to the ground for you, baby. Now, let’s grab your shit and get you home.”

Home.

****

Satoru is pouring you a drink that evening, as he has a marriage licence right on the table, Suguru had sped the process up for him. He’s there now, sighing as he looks at the two of you, and Satoru hands him a drink too. “Stay a while, Sugu.”

“One drink, then I have to go.” He sits next to you, and gently pats your shoulder, smiling sadly. “You okay, love?”

You take a sip of your drink, holding his hand for a moment and taking a shaky little breath. “Overwhelmed, confused, scared… but not even about not becoming a lawyer, more scared for my white haired angry boy.”

He snorts, and Satoru scowls at you both. “You two are chummy.”

“He’s your best friend, didn’t you all cuddle?” You tease, making Suguru scowl now, as Satoru’s scowl turns into a wolfy grin, wiggling his brows.

“We never cuddled, the fuck Toru.”

“Baby boy you were drunk, it’s okay.” He blows Suguru a kiss, and he rolls his eyes, sipping his drink.

“You sure you wanna marry this guy? He’s an idiot.” Suguru says, earning another glare and now a middle finger, Suguru holds back his laughter, and fuck it’s nice to just relax for a moment, in the middle of a shitstorm.

“You’re mad I’m off the market baby.”

“So sad about that. You two really going to do this?” He says then, looking between you both, and you hold Satoru’s hand, letting him squeeze it so reassuring.

Your husband.

Satoru Gojo?

It seems like some silly thing you doodled in your notebook.

“I’m sure, absolutely. I know it’s crazy, but… he’s crazy.” You smile back at Suguru, and he chuckles, sipping his drink again.

“You love it, brat.” He yanks you on his lap then, and you squeal at that, as he sits your right on him, dragging you down for a kiss. “Admit it.”

“No, Professor.” You whisper, and Suguru clears his throat, standing, and you wiggle to get off but Satoru pins your hips. Suddenly you feel so hot, especially as the alcohol is hitting your tummy.

“You two are too much to be around together, christ. But… you know, I have never seen two people like this, like magnets. So you won’t hear complaints from me, even if it’s fucking insane.” You melt at that, at his warm brown eyes smiling at you both. “Fuck if I don’t want that. Just… much less drama.”

“Aww, Suguru!” You stand, fighting Satoru’s hands off then, stepping over to Suguru. “Your support means alot, truly.”

“Of course, he’s my best friend. And fuck if I don’t hate his parents as much as he does. I’m guessing some courthouse wedding?”

“Yeah, that’s how it’ll have to be, we can always do something big later.”

“I am good with a shitty little courthouse wedding.” You say, and Suguru smiles, coming to hug you then.

“It’ll turn out okay, I’ll help as much as I can.”

“You better be there, not like we have many people coming. Need a witness.” Satoru says as Suguru pats your back.

“A witness huh?”

“He means a best man. Don’t you, Professor Dickhead?” You scowl at him, and he chuckles.

“I mean Best Man, absolutely. I know Nanami won’t come.”

“Mmm, let me talk to him. I’m meeting him in a few, he’s pretty upset about what he’s heard. He was worried about you.” Suguru says, and you flush a bit.

“You have the hots for Nanami too? Slutty student.” Gojo earns a smack, simply yanking you back on his lap, so intimate you’re embarrassed.

“Me, slutty? You!”

“Alright lovebirds, or should I say jailbirds?” You both laugh at that, and Suguru finishes his drink, setting it down on the sleek black table with a click. “I’m off to let Nanami know. Call you all later?”

“Thank you for your help, buddy.” He’s kissing down your neck, and you try to pull back, but Suguru is already leaving.

“At this rate I’ll be a Godfather.” He shouts, earning another laugh from Satoru, who is now sliding his big hands up your waist, splaying your ribcage, your body instantly responds.

You’re hot between your thighs, as desire pools in your core, your nipples perk right up for him, and his eyes go right there, as he presses kisses along your chest, making you whine out softly. He moans at the sound, gripping you tighter, his snowy white lashes lowering as his gaze gets lidded with desire.

“You like that idea, being a mommy, don’t you Miss Brat?” He purrs those words, and you bite your lower lip, wriggling just so, earning his eyes shutting tightly, before looking back up at you, his eyes hazy storms.

“You just wanna knock me up and keep me home.” He grins wide, his teeth glinting as he shocks you then, picking you up. You wrap your legs around him, clinging to his shoulders, your fingers gripping on the soft material of his fancy dress shirt, as you’re pressed against him.

“Don’t worry, you’ll still get to be a lawyer, I promise you I’ll make sure it happens, okay baby?” You blink back tears, sucking in a breath as he carries you to his bed, kissing you over and over, until you’re consumed by him, but when weren’t you consumed by your Toru?

“I know. Mnh. I know.” You whisper back, as he lays you on the bed now, eagerly unbuttoning your white blouse, pulling it apart to reveal the black lace bra underneath. He moans softly, licking his lower lip, before lapping at the lace with a hot tongue, lavishing your nipples through the fabric.

You’re moaning at the pleasure, your body arching up, as he yanks the cups down, mouth latches onto one, biting gently, making you whine and writhe as he plays you so well, his hot hungry mouth devouring you. He’s lavishing the other one now, as his hands are moving down, his thumbs hooking under the waistband of your skirt, pulling it down your legs, which tremble for him.

“You’re so beautiful, baby girl. So beautiful, you make me want to break you.” He whispers against your skin, and your eyes widen at that, your body tensing at the tone, it ends up making you even wetter.

“Break me? Toru, you make me sound so fragile.” You whisper, your voice shaky as his hands slide up your legs, pushing aside your underwear, and his thumbs press against your swollen clit, it twitches under his touch, as your hips buck up, your head falling back, exposing your throat to him.

Satoru is kissing down your throat, biting at your pulse point now, you’re soaking his hand as he continues torturous circles, when you want more, you want his cock inside you. You want him to fuck you so good you forget every problem you both have, want him to fill you.

He keeps you on edge, smirking against your collar bone as he feels you getting so needy, so whiny. “You are so fragile, so perfect. You’re mine, all mine. You’re not leaving me again.” He says, his voice a gruff whisper, and you realize he’s still upset about what happened, of course he is.

“I should… mmm… have told you. I was s-scared… Toru, fuck! Please, more, please!” You beg, as he continues his little circles, leaning up and looking at you. You unbutton his shirt with shaky hands, sliding it half way down his shoulders, and he shrugs it off, pulling your underwear down.

Satoru leans back and is spitting on your exposed pussy now, the hot saliva dripping down, his fingers move faster finally as he spreads it around, eyeing your cunt hungrily. You’re wordlessly arching your hips up, begging for his fingers, and finally he slides two in, just barely, making you grind down on them, his eyes watching you, so intense you feel like you’re going to combust.

“Please, Satoru, I’m sorry, I just didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know how to handle them, I just-” Satoru shoves his fingers deep. “Ah!”

“You can’t ever leave me, baby, don’t you know?” He leans over you, that madness on his face, his movements frantic, and your eyes roll back, your legs twitching as he works you so good you’re close, so close.

“T-Toru… yes, there, fuck I- Ah!” He yanks his fingers back then, and you cry out in emptiness, as your cunt now pulses around nothing, staring at him with wide eyes, and he’s grinning. “Please…”

“I think you need a lesson, even if you’re not my student right now. A lesson about always trusting me, yeah?” You take several breaths, overwhelmed, looking into his eyes, then his mouth crashes onto yours, his tongue delving in deep, and your words are stuck, lost into his mouth as you kiss him like your life depends on it, clinging to him.

And it does, his love is the air you breathe.

Your hands are in his silky white hair, and his hot lips are kissing down your neck, down your chest, his teeth scraping over your skin as he takes one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking it into a tight little peak again, making you arch up with a cry of pleasure. You cling to him desperately, lost in the madness that is Satoru Gojo’s energy, his passion, his love.

“Please. Please.” You beg now, and he shoves his fingers back in, curling them up and hitting your spot, the spot that blinds you, and you’re shattering, closer and closer to the edge, only for him to pull them out again. “Toru!”

“You’re not leaving me. Do you hear me?” He says those words through his teeth, furious at you clearly, sucking on his fingers and moaning for a moment.

“Satoru, Satoru, I need you, I need-”

“You want it, to cum baby?”

“Please, I’m sorry… Toru I was scared, fuck. I can’t imagine how life would be… please, please fuck me. Need you.” You reach down, and he yanks your hand, squeezing your wrist and shoving it above your head, shaking his own, looming over you menacingly.

And fuck if you’re not even wetter, as your pretty breasts heave with each breath under him. “Beg for it, for me to get you off. You’ve not been a good girl.”

“Please, I’ll be good. I’m sorry, I am. Please. Toru I love you.” You blink out tears, glistening by the lights of the room, embedded in the ceiling, and Satoru shakes his head then, kissing your sticky tears off your cheeks. “Please let me feel you in me.”

“But you’re not getting it yet, not until you promise me, baby girl. Promise me you’re not going anywhere. Promise me you’re mine forever, that you won’t sacrifice yourself like that again.” He speaks through his teeth, furious, squeezing your wrists.

“Toru, you were gonna if I didn’t!”

“That’s different!”

“It’s not, it’s not. It’s not. I need you too!” You yank him by his hair, making him moan out in pleasure, pulling his lips down, arching your hips, feeling his hardness under his slacks against your thigh. He pulls back, exhaling, his sweet breath tickling your swollen lips.

“I protect you.”

“I protect you!”

“No, you’ll be too busy with a baby soon, keep you occupied and keep you here.” You blink rapidly.

“You… what!?”

You’re panting, your eyes searching his, his thumb circling your clit, keeping you right there, right on the edge again, and it makes you pathetic. “You want it don’t you, me to put one in you? You’ll be my wife soon, won’t you?”

His wife.

His wife.

“Yes, your wife. You… are gonna be… my husband.” You say softly, and he nods just a bit, his blue eyes insane now, his thin white brows knitted together, as he starts kissing down your neck again, then lower, lower. “You… are gonna be my… husband. Mine.”

“Yours, yours baby. All yours.” He’s biting your thigh then, hard, and you wince at the pain, your hands locking in his hair. “You think you deserve to cum?”

“I want to. Please. Please.” You say, head rolling side to side as you feel that hot breath on your eager pussy, as he spreads the plump folds, glistening with your arousal and his spit.

“I don’t know if you deserve to. You were a bad girl.” He smacks your pussy then, making you jump.

“I promise, I promise, I will be good. I fucking love you, I need you, Satoru, I won’t again-”

“But do you deserve to cum? Answer me.” He whispers, his voice so soft, so taunting, and you feel your eyes fill with tears of frustration as he flicks his tongue just over your clit, before smacking it hard again. It stings so bad you scream out. “Maybe that’s what you deserve.”

“Yes, yes I do deserve to cum, I need it, please!”

“But I’m upset with you, baby, I’m upset you’d leave me like that. I need you to need me as much as I need you.”

“Toru, I do! I do! I was… I was so scared for you. Please.” You’re sobbing as he swirls a tongue around the edges of your entrance, teasing but not giving you what you need. When you yank at his hair again he smacks your hand, eyes narrowed as he glares at you.

“No, Miss Brat. You have to need me so much it hurts.” He says, his voice so raw, and you’re falling off that edge.

“I do, I do, please, Satoru, I need you so much, I do! You’re… m-my everything, there’s nothing but you.”

“Mmm, I don’t know.” He’s licking you deeper now, between your lips up that slit that’s soaked, releasing more and more wetness, making him moan. “I don’t know if you’ve learned a lesson.”

“Toru! Please, fuck me. Your dick, please.” You’re desperate as you pull on him, but he only laughs, tickling you more, shaking his head. “Toru now you’re just being mean!”

“Aw, poor baby.” He click his tongue, smirking so goddamn sexy with that mad look making his eyes dilate to pinpoints, making it hard to even look into them. You try to gasp for air as his hand squeezes your throat. “Now you know just a bit of what I felt, but not even close.”

You’re just crying softly, as he chokes you, two fingers back inside your eager hole, which sucks them in greedily. He’s looming over you, working you as only he knows, until you’re drooling out the side of your mouth, until your body is going numb everywhere but your sore little achy cunt.

“Please.” You manage to whisper, before gasping as he scissors you with his fingers, yanking them just as you get close, making you curl up as he releases your throat, laughing darkly.

“Pathetic, but not as pathetic as you make me. You know better than to try to leave me, you’re only mine. No one can touch you.”

“No one would have. No one. It’s all you. It was for you.” You pull at him, unzipping him then, and he groans, burying his face against you as you stroke his cock, so hard and hot in your hands. “Toru I’d have died alone.”

“I’d have never let you leave.” He huffs then, and finally, his cock is shoved inside you, and his eyelashes flutter shut, his full pink lips parted in a gasp, as he stretches you out so fucking good you almost cum, so goddamn on edge from his teasing, so wet from how obsessed he is, how obsessed you are.

“I won’t. I won’t. No matter w-what- fuck! Ah- they do.” You plead, and finally he fucks you in sure, hard thrusts, fucking you with his huge cock, slamming your cervix over and over. You scream out at it, as he’s biting your neck so hard it hurts, you see stars at the combination.

Satoru’s thumbs press into your pelvis, until he shoves your thighs up so high, your knees are backwards on the bed, on either side of your head almost, and you hiss at the stretch, as he presses them even further up. Your ass is in the air, hips raised up, as he licks his lips, hungrily staring at you, drips of sweat beading down his perfect nose.

“This is how I need you, mating press. Perfect for fucking a baby into my wife.” He says huskily, and you wriggle, blinking rapidly, before he fucks into you deeper than he ever has, deeper than you can take it. “You want it, don’t you?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes.” You’re squeaking out those words as he fucks you so good it’s blindig, and you start feeling it build up, you can feel yourself so close it’s painful, as his leaky tip bruises your cervix. Your walls flutter against him, only for him to pull out, and now you’re scowling, as your pussy throbs. “Please, please! It hurts.”

“Then tell me. Beg me.” You struggle to even form a word, your brain is mush, stupid, he’s got you so ready he could blow on your clit and you’d cum. You gulps as you yank on his arms, nails digging into taut, alabaster skin.

“Put a baby in me. Please, Satoru, please. Fuck me so good. Break me if you want to, just- ah!” He’s slammed back into you, his rhythm rougher and more brutal than he’d ever been with you, and you’re fading now, losing all your senses as he works over you, as his heavy weight is against your thighs, pushing so deep.

“Break you, baby, hmm?” You nod, and finally he kisses you, shoving in deep and grinding his cock, making you a trembling mess, making your cunt gush around him as you’re right there, right there.

“Pl-ease. Please. Lemme cum. Please.” You beg more, shameless, you don’t care, you almost lost him, but he’ll never let you go. And you never want him to go. No, as you cup his beautiful face, and watch him through watery eyes, drinking his sighs in, absorbing his being.

You don’t want him to let you go.

How could you have lived a day without him, without Satoru?

“Then you’ll be a good girl?” You nod eagerly, with a neck that’s sore from his choking.

“Good. Good. Swear.” You’re soaking his length, dripping down the veins and ridges of Satoru’s cock, and he licks up your jaw line, to your ear, huffing his words into it.

“Then you’ll let me fuck a baby into you. Won’t you? Never leave me. Stay with me. Forever.” You nod quickly, gulping as you cling to him, as you fall into the abyss that is him, that is you and him.

“Baby in me. Stay. N’leave… ngh…” You’re barely able to form words, as he laughs against your earlobe, tickling it, and you feel that pressure build so high you think you’ll explose.

“Good girl. You can cum, as long as you know who you belong to, as long as you know where you belong.”

“Under you.”

He groans, pulling back and staring. “Good girl.” Finally he slams his lips down, and thrusts into you so hard it’s brutal, but you want it, you want the pain, you want his pain, and it brings you closer and closer.

“Can I? Please!” You whimper out against his lips, and he bites your lower one, making the air sting it as he blows on it now.

“You can cum now.” He says softly, and you need no further urging, so goddamn on edge you can’t stand anymore, you cum so hard he pauses, groaning and gripping you as she pulses around his cock. As she squeezes his shaft, as you’re shaking under him, gasping for breath.

“Toru! Toru!” You sob the words, clinging to his back, nails digging in as you ride the wave of your insane orgasm, the one that rolls in waves around you, and you pull back to look up into those eyes. Insane, emotional, lustful… beautiful.

“Beautiful.” He whispers, and your body wracks as your orgasm lingers, slow and powerful, until it’s sapped everything.

“You’re beautiful.” You whimper as he’s flipping you then, spreading your thighs wide and shoving his cock to the hilt. “Ah- fuck! So big… you’re too big… it’s all too much I can’t-”

“You can, baby, you will. You will.” He’s smacking your ass hard, so hard you black out damn near, shoving his cock in again, gripping your ass roughly with his huge hands, before he’s pulling your hair, yanking you up on your knees, pressing you down hard on his cock. “That’s it, that’s it.”

He’s pulling your hair back so hard it’s painful, your back and neck curved so insane, and he’s pounding your pussy, you hear the smacks in the room, your wet pussy so goddamn loud. “Love you. Need you.”

“Do you need me baby?”

“Yes! Yes!”

He’s exhaling, hips gripped by his big hands as he holds you still. “Arch this ass up.”

You do as he says, and he’s pressing your head into the bed, angling his body so he fucks even harder, so his curved pink tip is wrecking all your spots, as his balls are smacking against your clit. You’re drooling on the bed, losing it internally, feeling that insane build again, until you’re cumming on his cock, and he hisses, pressing in, your cunt drooling wetness like your mouth.

“That’s it. You know who you belong to?” You mumble into the bed, and he lifts you up then, cupping your face tightly. “Who?”

“You, belong to you. You. You.” He’s fucking you every time you speak, hard thrusts that break your mind, that break your body.

“Take all my cum, then, make me a baby, yeah?” You nod, wordless, and he slams your head back down, holding it down with one hand as he fucks you mean, his cock bullying your walls, and you can’t barely make noise, you can barely even breathe while he’s wrecking you, while he’s owning you.

You are his.

He is yours.

You can’t even give a fuck about your college, about your career, about his parents, about anything but that cock, but those hands, but those gorgeous eyes that you get lost in. You see them even as your face is shoved in his blankets, even as your mind is shot, even as you see blackness behind your eyes, as you drink in Gojo’s essence, his everything.

“Make that baby, yeah? Take all of it.” He orders, yanking your hands behind your back, pulling them and using them for leverage to fuck harder, faster, pressing inside and making you cum so hard you are broken. You’re melted, your mind shot, as your walls tighten and quiver, as your body is taut. “Fuck… that’s it, suck it all out.”

At his urging, your pussy throbs more, and now you feel it, hot endless streams of his cum, as he pumps you so goddamn full. You’re burning inside, as you scream into the blankets, breath taken, twitching and trembling legs as he pumps his cum deeper, moaning behind you.

He lays on you then, turning your head to him, breathless as you, pressing his cum in further, until you’re cumming again from just that, from the insane pressure, from the energy of him. His energy that you can’t even begin to fathom losing, the man that’s your everything. The man you’re so fucking scared to lose, but also simultaneously afraid you’re horrible for.

“Don’t… wanna… ruin your-”

“Shut the fuck up, please. You never could ruin… ah… anything. Nothing.” You both are whimpering now, as he’s pumping in you, as you’re dripping his own cum down his cock, as your eyes roll back and he pulls your hair so hard.

“Scared. I’m scared.” You cry out, and he exhales, shaking his head, kissing you so deeply with his sweet lips as he pumps and pumps your sensitive cunt, bringing you to tears.

“I’m here. I’m here. I’ll fix… fix it. Marry you, baby. Marry you.”

“Please, please… forgive me.” You sob, brokenly, and then he’s resting his head in the crook of your neck, clutching you tight with one arm, as the other strokes your hair gently.

“I understand it, I’d do the same. You’re amazing. You’re so fucking sweet, you’re so perfect baby. But I’m selfish.” He cries softly, and you shake your head, looking back at him and kissing him over and over, a hand cupping his face as his weight is firm against your back, as you’re both covered in sweat, in tears, in cum.

“You’re not selfish, you know what you want, you fucking get it. And Satoru, I’m so ready. I am ready.”

“Ready? You sure?” You nod, and he exhales, pouring his love into every eager kiss, as you both have not really any fucking plan, as you’re both completely fucked, as you’re going to get married as a tactic, as a damn whim.

But you are. You are…

“I’m so fucking ready.”

A03 chap: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56895382/chapters/144669811

Chapter 12

[devilfic]

❝right place, right time❞

X. we don't fight fair.

parts: previously / next plot: you and bruce talk some more about your arrangement. everyone wants to know what's going on with you two. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: surgeon!reader, secret identities, slow burn, angst is back baby, but so are the romcom plot beats, somebody get gordon a drink and get one for me too. words: 7.6k. a/n: LOTS of plot this chapter, but also some maybe cute things coming later. in between the horrors :D

It takes more coaxing than you would like for Bruce to let you leave alone two days later. Even with proof of a patient, he insists he send you in his car, with his driver and his guards. One of the cops on your detail had confessed they were feeling redundant, leisurely as they were anyway, parked outside General with coffees barely keeping hot in the November chill, “Just the one today, right doc?”

You snuggle deeper into your coat, hands eagerly grasping at the warmers in your pockets, “Just the one. If everything goes smoothly, I’ll be out before lunch.”

“Well, we’ll be here. Holding down the fort.” The two of them snicker to themselves. Glancing to the side, you see Bruce’s men: one in the driver’s seat of his car and the other waiting by the entrance for you. Unlike your detail, they dared not crack a smile for fear of looking too cheerful. You wouldn’t admit it out loud (because these cops were being paid to keep you alive), but you felt like your life was in much better hands with people who weren’t currently goofing around on the hood of their car.

“Right. Thanks, fellas.” You can’t be bothered to sound sincere, and from their general lack of acknowledgement, they don’t seem to care.

You spin on your heels, preparing to follow Bruce’s guard into the hospital, but nearly crash into a woman walking behind you. The collision has you stumbling and jumping back, Bruce’s guard jumping forward, and the woman baring her teeth at you in a… smile?

Her teeth glint bleach-white off the gathering snow, a few shades lighter than the hair smoothly pinned at her crown. Unlike everyone else shuffling past on the icy sidewalk, she is perfectly content with standing right in front of you under the porte-cochère. You supposed the black, mink coat wrapped around her person kept her all warm and toasty. You felt jealous. Then you felt like you should apologize for ramming into her, but nothing came out.

“Apologies, I didn’t mean to scare you,” The extravagant woman speaks first, glancing over her shoulder at the guard who now looms between the two of you, prepared to defend if need be, “Oh! Hello, pleasure to meet you.” She reaches a hand out to the guard and when he doesn’t go to take it, she snatches his hand up from his side in a firm handshake.

You’re more forthcoming with your hand when she turns to you, though you’re not at all sure why she’s bothering to introduce herself. Anyone else would’ve moved on by now. And flipped you off while they were at it.

“Ma’am, is there a problem here?” One of the cops pipes up from behind you, eyes fixed on the woman.

Her smile grows wider, “Not at all, officer. I just thought this all looked so… curious.” She gestures between the cop car and Bruce’s car with one French-tipped finger, “You wouldn’t happen to be a celebrity doctor, would you? Plumping up the pillow-faces of our city’s darling socialites, perhaps?”

You try to scoot around the woman, but she moves with you, keeping perfect eye contact with you the whole time, “I’m real sorry, but I need to get going. I have an appointment-“

“With Bruce Wayne?”

You flinch. The woman looks… familiar, now that you’re looking at her more closely. Her name escapes you. “Excuse me?”

“Bruce Wayne. That’s his car- well, one of them anyway. A source of mine says it’s the same one from two days ago when you both arrived together for… something. And the same one from a few weeks ago; if I recall, Mr. Wayne made a generous donation—a whole wing!—to Gotham General earlier this month. And now you’ve been spotted using his car. What’s that all about?”

The same cop from before flanks your side, locking you in with Bruce’s guard and this mysterious woman, “Lady, they’re busy. I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

“I only want to ask a few questions.”

“And they don’t have to answer. If you keep this up, I’m gonna write you up for harassment.”

She looked like she’d been waiting to hear that. She reaches within the folds of her coat and pulls out a badge, brandishing an ID for the cop to read, “Whatever happened to freedom of the press?”

You peer at the ID yourself, at the impeccably styled photograph of the same woman with the same blonde hair falling in loose, Hollywood curls that frame her smile. Beside her photo is her name: Vicki Vale. You suddenly remember where you’d seen her before.

Vicki knows you know, too. You try to sidestep her for the door but she crowds in on you, barreling through the arms that attempt to hold her back, “Are you Mr. Wayne’s doctor? Is he sick? Is he dying?”

Your lip curls back in a snarl, “What ever happened to HIPAA?”

That amuses her. “Is he in the car right now? Is that why you’ve got all this security? Is Bruce Wayne paying for your protection after you were taken hostage a few weeks ago?”

The cop grabs Vicki by the upper arm, managing to wrangle her away from you, but she only pivots to the car, tapping her nails on the tinted windows and calling out for Bruce to comment. You almost feel sorry for her, in the way you might feel sorry for a rabid dog walking in circles on a busy street.

You feel a hand on your back and Bruce’s guard ushers you quickly into the hospital, even as Vicki shouts after you for clarification on Bruce’s whereabouts. His expression, as always, is flat.

When you’re far enough away from the lobby, you ask, “Does that kind of thing happen to… him a lot?”

The guard doesn’t bother to pause in his stride, doesn’t even bother to look down at you as he answers, “Yes.”

You supposed if you had to deal with people like Vicki Vale all your life, you’d become a recluse too.

At the very least, you hadn’t said anything damning. She would have nothing to go off of with whatever soundbite she managed to grab from you, and God save her editor when they’d inevitably have to cut out her getting threatened by a cop.

She’d been waiting for you, though. How she knew you’d be here, at this time, meant she’d either been tailing you or she had someone on her payroll doing it for her. The thought makes your stomach churn.

Bruce had been in your office twice, but you had never been in his.

It was bigger, obviously; it’s two floors below the penthouse with a receptionist outside and some hallways leading to God knows where. The receptionist—Jennifer, who insists you call her Jenny—is very forthcoming with refreshments as you wait outside for Bruce’s meeting to finish. You decide there’s no better time than now to pick apart the marble floors and TVs on the wall replaying WE’s corporate reel.

The lobby downstairs was modern, clearly remodeled, but Bruce’s office and penthouse were comparatively frozen in time. You could almost picture the first Waynes walking through here all those years ago. Everything—from the luxurious leather chair you were sitting on, to the warm low light, to the gentle clicking of Jenny’s fingers on the keyboard, to the empty glass of sparkling water she’d given you had almost made you forget that you were currently living in the penthouse upstairs.

The door to Bruce’s office opens, breaking you out of your contemplation. A man in a fine suit walks out, chatting with Bruce, though you couldn’t see the latter from where you were sitting. You can only catch the last half of their conversation: something about an auction?

You don’t have much time to think on it. Jenny quickly rises from her desk and slips into Bruce’s office, and a few seconds later comes out to invite you in.

You don’t see Bruce at first. The room is just as big as you imagined. Bruce’s desk is right across from the doors, backlit by large windows letting in the noonday light. It’s a heavy, wooden thing that is far bigger than it really has any business being with next to nothing actually on it. And, notably, he is not sitting at it.

It takes you a second to spot him to your left at a built-in bar, washing out a glass of what looked like dark liquor down the drain. It isn’t until Jenny shuts the door behind you that he looks over at you, setting the empty glass on the counter.

Today, he’d forgone a sweater for a white button-up with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. You noted the healed over cuts and scars on his arms and wondered if people asked about them the way you had, enchanted (rather than perplexed) by stories of martial arts hobbies with no concerns for where he went at night. He watches you thinking about it, but before you can ask, he speaks first, “So, you met Vicki.”

Your shoulders slump just at the mention of her. Bruce catches it and a smile, however small, warms up his expression. “Unfortunately.”

“Bet she made an impression.”

You cross the room in a few strides, undoing your coat and throwing it over a nearby chair, “She’s tactless. She said her source recognized your car and now she wants to know what we are to each other,” You pause in your ranting when you see him pour a bit of brandy into the glass next to him, “Is that for me?”

He casually hands it to you, “You look like you need it.”

You don’t have the marbles to take offense to that at the moment. You knock back the shot in one go, then go to pour yourself another one as Bruce watches you. After you throw back the second one, you realize that he hasn’t responded to you. “Weren’t you listening? I said she’s following us.”

“Plenty of reporters are, she’s not special.”

“Wh- sorry, what?”

Bruce shrugs, “Vicki Vale isn’t the only reporter in Gotham who knows what cars I drive, who I go to lunch with, or where I put my money.”

“Isn’t that…” You start to ask, but the way Bruce is looking at you makes you feel like your perfectly reasonable question has a perfectly obvious answer already, “…isn’t that bad?”

“Not when I know what cars they drive. I know who works for them. When I don't want to be seen, I’m not seen. They don’t have that luxury.”

“You keep tabs on all of them?”

You watch Bruce lean against the bar to face you, one hand in the pocket of his- okay, whoa. Either his thighs were getting bigger or his pants were getting tighter. You don’t remember his other suits being this… formfitting. You can’t help but notice how they stretch as he reclines, and though your eyes flick back up to his before he can catch you, he makes no mention of it… even if his eyes narrow some. He waits until he’s sure he has your undivided attention, “I like to be informed. Especially since we’re selling a narrative, now.”

“A narrative.” After a moment, it clicks in your mind. “That we’re together. The narrative we never agreed on selling.”

Bruce brushes right past that, “So what’d you tell Vicki?”

You pour yourself a third shot, though it’s a bit more modest. You cap off his brandy and move away from the bar as if it would silence the siren song of day-drinking, “I told her that asking if you're dying is a HIPAA violation.” Bruce's mouth twitches as if containing a laugh. "What?"

You watch him contemplate telling you, and then, as if he suddenly thinks better of it, he shakes his head. “You just reminded me. If we do agree to do this, I will have to fire you. Patient ethics."

“Which is another reason why we probably shouldn’t do it.”

His head tilts, “Probably?”

You flush. You sip on your drink, folding your other arm around your waist as he questions you with his eyes, “I just… I’m frustrated. I hate this. I hate that the safest choice here is to hide away while you take care of it. It’s not that I don’t trust you to do it, I just don’t want to run away.”

Bruce watches you in that way of his, calculating and assessing. “Going in alone is running away too. You’d be Isaac bound at the altar.”

“And you, Abraham? Delivering me to a cruel god?” A rush of exasperation sours his expression. “I’d be stopping him. It’s me he wants.”

“And what about your parents? Your friends? Judith? You’d be fine leaving them to bury you?”

“Of course I’m not- of course not.”

“Then you don’t have to do it. Trust me.”

“I do trust…” You stare at him for a moment, “I trust you. I have to. But you get that this is weird, right? Getting together for the press? Putting all eyes on us? You get why this feels weird for me, don’t you?” Bruce is quiet, holding your gaze steady. You know that this plan wasn’t his first choice, and yet he didn’t look nearly as put off by it as you were. Perhaps it was another way you two differed. Something else to chalk up to being so rich that things like this- maneuvers like this become necessary. “Why do you want to do it?”

He pushes himself off the bar, taking a step and then another until he’s squarely in front of you. You have to squeeze your hands into fists to tamp down the immediate flight response you feel being this close to him, seeing this almost unguarded side to him. It was different from the deer-in-headlights deal he had when you first met: open, but unsure. It rocks you that he doesn’t look so unsure anymore. You swallow and keep his gaze, but it feels like a lot more work for you than it is for him.

“You said you don’t want to hide, and I don’t want to make you. We need a good reason for me to stick by your side. This is a solution.”

“You don’t need to stick by me. I’ve got a detail, remember?”

“I don’t trust two cops to keep you safe.”

“Your guards, then. You’ve got more than enough to do the job for you.”

Something in Bruce’s eyes flicker, “Maybe I want it to be me.”

Your courage slips. Your lips part, sounding out words you can’t bring yourself to say. What do you say to that?

He wants it to be him. He wants to be the one to keep you safe.

Logically, you know he’s right. GCPD’s finest couldn’t hold a candle to his strength and dexterity. They couldn’t even keep him out of their servers. And his guards were better, but they were still fallible. A gunshot or a stab wound would take them out just as easily as it would anyone else. The man before you had survived both of those things and more.

Uncanny warmth unfurls your fists. It curls around your rib cage, through each bone, around each lung, worming its way up your throat and unspooling in your mind. You feel warm all over. It is a terribly strange feeling to have for Bruce Wayne, but you’re having it all the same.

If he was still just Batman to you, you might’ve done something you couldn’t easily take back.

You suddenly wish for the times when that was the case, when blindfolds were commonplace, so you wouldn’t have to look him in the eye or think through how one might have gone through with those thoughts, if one had the chance- “As far as reasons go,” you struggle around the lump in your throat, “That’s not the worst.”

Bruce smiles.

He skirts around you and heads for the desk as you watch him go, the scent of him finally permeating past your defenses. He didn’t smell like green apple today—more sandalwood or pine—and as you debate on the specific notes, he comes back to you with a flier in hand. It takes your scent-drunk mind a minute to read it.

Gotham City Food Bank presents: The Thanksgiving Bachelor Auction!

You stare. Bruce is still holding the flier out to you, expecting a reaction. You can’t really think of one. “Uh.”

“I’d like you to come.”

“Why…?”

“The food bank puts together Thanksgiving baskets every year for the needy: turkeys, tofu, yams, stuffing, the works. They do a charity event to raise money to stuff the baskets. It’s for a good cause.”

“That’s awesome. What does this have to do- oh, fuck.”

Bruce raises his eyebrows. You recall what the man from earlier mentioned about an “auction”. You snatch the flier away to look at the finer details. It would be this weekend, there were six bachelors planned (including Bruce), and each person was encouraged to bid big for charity. Dinner would be provided. It sounded nice.

“You can bring Dr. Madison,” Bruce offers, “I think she likes me.”

She does. She painfully does. You could imagine her emptying this month's and last month's paycheck on a date with Bruce. Taking him to the nicest (and least vandalized) sushi joint in the city, engaging him with tales of the kids she's saved and her love of Broadway. Pampering him with praises for his charity work, admiring him openly and easily, charming him the way she charmed him at General.

She is a charming, sweet, beautiful woman. Bruce would look very good with her, even for charity. You wonder what things would've been like had he broken into her apartment instead of yours.

“Just wait 'til she finds out you personally invited her," you force a laugh, "She's going to have to take out a loan."

"I didn't know you were planning to bid on me, too." He's joking. Obviously, he's joking, if the barely restrained smile is anything to go by.

"In your dreams, maybe." Bruce shrugs. "But... I thought we were creating a narrative. Letting someone else buy you for a night isn't very romantic." You hate how hesitant you sound, like the idea of it displeased you. You don’t mean to sound that way, of course. It's just that if anyone were going to go on a date with Bruce... shouldn't it be you?

“The dates are just for fun. You'd be my real date.” His real date. God. “It would make you look like a good sport." He sees you mulling it over, still unsure. He folds the flier into his pocket. "Or not. We don't have to tell them anything yet. I wouldn't want to make it awkward for Dr. Madison if-“

If what? If she found out you were "dating" Bruce days after telling her to her face that you didn't know his relationship status? God forbid she rub it in your face after you spent so long being indifferent about him. “It's fine. We'll come. But maybe hold off on calling me your real date until you’ve fired me. Officially. You know.”

“I'll have my people talk to your people.”

You feel queasy at the smile he gives you, so casual and reassuring. You could really use a lie-down right about now. “Okay. Well. I’ll see you at home.”

Bruce blinks, but you’re already heading for the doors of his office before you've realized what you just called his place. You hear a quiet “see you” from behind, but you don’t dare to look back.

“Please don’t agitate the inmates. We are liable for anything that happens to you on the premises, but if you go poking around where you shouldn’t, that’s on you.”

The corrections officer hands you a clip-on badge with your name on it, but when she goes to ask Batman for his ID, she hesitates.

“He’s with me.” Detective Gordon assures her from his other side. The officer’s eyes narrow. James raises an eyebrow, “I talked to the warden about it. If you’d like to bring it up with him.”

That seems to be all the convincing she needs. She passes James his badge and gestures for you three to continue on down toward the visitation room.

It had been a hassle getting Bruce through the metal detectors, and it had been distraction enough that it didn’t weigh on you just who you were going to see until you were already in the room.

It was wide, with vending machines and a couple of tables scattered about, barred windows allowing a look into the unusually sunny afternoon outside. A handful of inmates were already there: some visiting family, others meeting with lawyers. It made it easy to spot him. Lucien was the only one alone, and from the looks of him, he was more happy to see you than you were to see him.

As you three walk over, he stands from the table, grinning ear-to-ear. You barely remembered his face from when you were younger, save for the same patchy beard that had yet to fill in after all these years. He greets Bruce first, holding out a hand, “Wow. You know, I’ve never seen you up close before. Kinda glad about that.”

Bruce does not shake his hand. Lucien’s smile is unwavering. His eyes slide past yours to meet the detective’s, and James shakes his hand out of pity.

It isn’t until you and James sit down that Lucien finally looks at you dead on. “You look good.” You feel your stomach lurch. It didn’t feel good to hear, especially when he looked at you like freshly caught prey. When you make no move to reply to that, he shrugs, “I almost didn’t recognize you. I hear you’re a doctor now. Really worked your way up from gutter trash, huh?”

Your expression hardens and he snickers.

James cuts in for you, “Mr. Goulding, we requested a visit because we think you might be able to help us with an ongoing case you were involved in. Can you tell us what you remember about Dimitri Young?”

Lucien’s eyes slither back to James, “Not much. Kid wasn’t with us long. He was… skinny. Cried easy. Up Nat’s ass all the time.”

“Were you close with Ms. Young?”

“Yeah, yeah. You could say that. We worked with each other. Ran the trade for a while with a couple other kids. Got a lot of customer service experience back then. She was… nice. Shame what happened.”

James raises an eyebrow, “Seems like you were on good terms. And after Natalie was killed, did you keep up with Dimitri? Visit him at Arkham, maybe? Write him letters?”

Lucien glances at you. “Well… it was tricky. Thanks to the good doctor and friends, I had to steer clear of the whole thing for a while. Felt bad for the kid, though. When I heard about the plea deal… I’d have taken life here over Arkham. I don’t care how fucked up the kid got over Nat’s death. What they’re doing down there?” He looks over at James and grimaces, “That’s the real criminal shit.”

You remembered that. His lawyer had pleaded insanity under the guise he’d get parole on good behavior, gain sympathy for having lost his only family so brutally. You remembered what Bruce said too; he’d been good. He was doing good until he saw you.

James gears up to ask another question but Lucien cuts him off, “Are they gonna talk or are they just decoration?” He points his finger at you and Bruce who hovers over your shoulder.

You wring your hands underneath the table, feeling Bruce’s eyes burning into the back of your skull. The truth was that you had a list of questions to ask him. You’d stayed up all night writing them down, rehearsing them.

Now, you could only remember Natalie and the barrel of her gun.

Lucien was there, too. He was on the frays of the memory as he always was. The shootout had yielded successes and failures, and Lucien, who’d been there that night—who laughed as Alex laughed and laughed harder when the bullet nestled itself into the meat of her brain—had not been found for years after that. You thought sometimes that you saw him on the street, but his appearance in your memory was just as frayed.

It all comes back to you now that you’re sitting in front of him. The everyman, a person meant to blend into the crowd. It didn’t surprise you that he’d managed to stay out of here for so long.

“…You don’t have to if you’re not ready.” James’ voice floats in between your musing, making you aware of his and Lucien’s eyes on you. Lucien is still smiling, strands of golden hair slipping out of the small bun at the back of his head.

“Why did you stay with the Vipers for so long?”

Your question surprises him, like he hadn’t expected you to have a voice after all these years, “I was open to new opportunities. But they paid well and you’re almost guaranteed a good position if you don’t get gunned down before 18. I was running my own little unit of teenyboopers before I got locked up.”

You frown. How casual he is describing it all. “They didn’t toss you aside as soon as you got too old to control?”

“No, no. That was your friend’s big issue, wasn’t it? Scared to be controlled. Nah. The boss man liked me. You know they like ‘em young, easy to impress upon and all that. They want the lifelong loyalty. I’ve never been that devoted, you know? But I liked the money.”

“Do you know what happened to Dimitri?” This question, Bruce asks. For the first time, you see Lucien’s smile dim some.

Lucien clears his throat, “No. Kid kick the bucket?”

“He broke out with some inmates not too long ago. He’s on the street hunting down people related to Nat’s case.”

Lucien looks from Bruce to you, then breaks out into a fit of hysterical giggles. The sound is grating to your ears. “Holy shit. He wants to kill you.”

“He’s killed one person already,” James stresses, trying to save you the humiliation. “We need to know if you think he could be working with the Vipers again. We believe someone is supplying him with… venom.”

“Venom? Fuck me. That’s expensive, especially those newfangled strains they had on the street when I was out. Can really fuck you up if you’re not careful.”

“Did the Vipers have their hands on that kind of stuff? You were a lieutenant after all.”

“Maybe. Not as much as they did drops. That was all the rage. Venom’s too volatile and, like I said, it can really fuck you up,” Lucien exhales hard through his nose. “If Dimitri’s on that, he’s not gonna last. Especially if the Vipers are giving it to him.”

You frown, “Why especially?”

“I mean, come on. Same reason you and your friend beat the shit out of him all those years ago,” You flinch at the memory. “He was weak and nobody gave a shit about him except Nat. My guess is the kid probably went back to ‘em for help, and they saw an opportunity to make him a lab rat.” You feel Bruce shift behind you as his cape brushes what little of your arm you were allowed to leave exposed here. Lucien’s eyes drift up Bruce’s body, sparkling with some new recollection, “And with Mr. Vengeance on the streets, I imagine juicing your best men up with venom oughtta make a nice challenge.”

Lucien watches as you process what he'd realized instantly. Behind the feigned impassivity, some little bit of him seems to find this just as awful as you do. Even if it's just pity, a shake of the head as foresight grants him the knowledge that what comes next will undoubtedly be a tragedy.

It had to have been Dimitri’s first time on venom when he attacked Russo, and as uncoordinated as he was, he had put up a fight against Bruce. You couldn’t imagine what he’d be like if he got better at it. If he got more of it. And he would, if the Vipers had any sense. You knew they didn't give a shit about you, or Russo, or Alex, or Dimitri. They were just hoping that his rage would make a casualty out of the Batman.

He was going to kill himself for the chance. And the Vipers wouldn't care. They would leave his doped up, bloated carcass in the street like they had left Nat.

You realize that you aren't breathing when you feel a cool hand on your upper back, closing around your scruff and sending a jolt of awareness through you. You almost think that it's Dimitri—having crawled out of your racing thoughts and come to take you once and for all—before realizing that it was Bruce, hovering so close now that his cape brushed your shoulders. His leather-clad thumb brushes against the nape of your neck, and when you look up to see him looking down at you, you catch him imploring you for something. Urging you to get out of your head.

Looking at him reminds you to breathe. You take one deep breath in, holding his gaze, and turn back to Lucien.

When you do, he looks different now. His eyes linger on Bruce’s hand. When you ask him your next question, he doesn’t seem to delight in the drama of it anymore, “After Dimitri was put away, what did the Vipers do?”

Lucien stares at you, then past you. His tone is solemn after a few moments of silence, “It was business as usual. They packed up what they could, moved to their other safe-houses in the city, relocated and reallocated. They talked about… the kid costing more than he was worth. Handful of us pitched in and got Nat a grave. I’ve been a few times. Not recently. It was nice.”

“Where?”

His eyes narrow at you, “Why do you give a shit? You feel guilty? Wanna leave some flowers for the dearly departed?”

You feel your lower lip wobble and you curse the feelings burning inside you. You were trying so hard to keep it together. “Do you think any of the Vipers would bother to tell him?”

He stares at you for a minute. Someone new walks into your peripheral view. It’s one of the correctional officers warning you about time. Something soft coats Lucien’s voice then, "She's in St. Agatha’s cemetery, near the treeline. The name on the marker is Adelpha Lions. We couldn't bury her as Natalie.”

Adelpha Lions. St. Agatha's. You think about bringing her flowers, but the thought leaves a terrible taste in your mouth.

The officer from before comes back to escort the three of you out, and Lucien doesn't bother to acknowledge her or James thanking him for his time. He only watches you, leveling you with a look of such contempt that you feel your chest hollow out, breath stolen again. He watches you well until the door to the visitation room swings shut.

Bruce and James walk ahead of you, though you notice that Bruce lags behind, glancing back at you every once in a while to make sure you're keeping up. James mentions something about keeping an eye on the cemetery, just in case Dimitri does know about it, and it leaves the same terrible taste in your mouth from before.

You know you ought to say something, but you find yourself drifting after them, mind elsewhere, stuck on the way Lucien looked at you. It was like a switch flipped when he saw Bruce touch you.

Why had he touched you? So blatantly, so intimately? He had to have known how that would look. Could it have been that he didn't care? Or, that he cared more about you?

You peek at Bruce’s profile as you walk; the cold lights above you both make the black of his cowl stand out, but they also make the blue of his eyes that much more piercing when they suddenly zero in on you. Your name is called. You look to the side and see James staring at you, expecting, worried almost, “You good back there?”

“Sorry. What?”

“I said I’d like to talk to you.”

“Oh. Sure.”

“Alone. If you don't mind.”

You look at Bruce. His eyes have focused on James now, searching for what he might want to talk about. You wished you could read minds. You decide it couldn't hurt to ask, “Can I ask what about?”

“Just some... questions. We haven't had the chance to really speak since the night you were attacked. I'd like to follow up with you." You bristle when you realize he expects Bruce to fully leave. James notices, glancing between you and Bruce. "I’ll drop you back at Wayne Tower, since your detail says that’s where you’re staying now.” When you don't make a move to confirm, he sighs, jerking his thumb toward the exit, "...I'll let you two talk."

You watch him walk toward the parking garage, just as Bruce crowds up against you, dropping his voice to a whisper, "He wants to know about me."

"Yeah, no shit. What do I say to him?"

"I told him I'd look into Bruce Wayne to keep him off my trail. There's not much I can do since you told him what you saw." You can hear the irritation bleed through his words. "As far as he knows, Bruce Wayne could be a suspect and you could be in danger."

You curse under your breath, "So I need to clear your name."

"What exactly did you tell him the night you were attacked? Exactly."

"I... I said that I had reason to believe... uh, confidential information was leaked to Bruce."

"Did you tell him exactly what the information was?"

"No."

"Did you tell him where you saw it?"

"No. Just that I knew you knew something you shouldn't. But he knows I had no proof."

Bruce goes quiet. You see him looking off to the side, eyes flicking to and from as he thinks about what to say next. Each second feels like a minute, and you keep watch over the direction James went for fear he'd come looking for you after too long.

You feel Bruce's hand take your upper arm and he brings you closer, tucking you away from the security cameras overhead and into him instead, "Can you lie?"

"You want me to lie to a detective?"

"We don't have a lot of options here. Can you lie?"

You frown, biting into your bottom lip to ground yourself. The pain focuses you some, "What do you want me to say?"

It's your luck that James is patient. A few minutes later, you find him propped up against the trunk of his car, hands in his pockets as he waits patiently for you and Bruce. Bruce gives you both a single nod before heading off to his own car, leaving you alone with the detective and the world of questions he could be gearing up to ask you.

But before you prepare yourself for the first one, James walks around to the driver's side door, flashing you a playful look, “You ever seen the Bat Signal up close?”

The answer was obviously no, but now that it was right in front of you, you wanted nothing more than to see it turned on. You'd seen it light up the cloudy night sky a million times it felt like, and it never failed to take your breath away. It's far too sunny out to see it now. As the chilly breeze tries to sneak under your clothes, you turn to watch the sunlight glint off the skyscrapers, enjoying the little bit snowy Gotham afforded this late in the year.

The city’s still loud from this high up, but it’s different. Kind of like how it felt watching the city from the penthouse. Up here, it felt secluded. Private. Perhaps that’s why James picked it. He kicks the base of the floodlight with his shoe and it barely tremors, “Was a hell of a time trying to get this thing up here. Chief's still coming around to it.”

You think about the burner phone in your pocket. Bruce’s relationship with the rest of the GCPD was… strained at best, but he and James seemed close; you wondered just how deep their relationship went, exactly. Apparently, not deep enough to tell him who he was.

His voice catches your attention just then. “You living with Wayne, now? How'd that happen?"

You breath out a heavy sigh, “I uh… yeah. He offered. After the whole thing with Dimitri. Just until he’s caught.”

“That’s awfully generous.” You don’t respond to that, so he presses more. "Did he offer or did he...?"

"He offered. No coercion." That wasn't entirely the truth, but you had no room for nuance right now.

“Do you feel safe with him?”

“I do.”

“You seemed worried when we first talked about him. You said he had your file.”

“I... I said that I thought he had access to it. Because of something he said."

James’ eyes narrow at you, watching you with his head tilted. “What'd he say to you?"

"He just mentioned something about the... the case. I told him where I grew up and it jogged a memory."

"Is that so?"

You cursed how apathetic James could make himself look. You had no clue if this was working on him, only that you had to follow through with this, seams tight, no loopholes. "He heard about the shooting. His butler, Alfred, he's always been really protective of Bruce. Everyone knew the Vipers snatched kids with no one to check on them, I think he just wanted Bruce to stay safe. Make sure he didn't make the wrong decision if he went out and got himself in trouble. Like I did."

"So, you told Wayne where you grew up, he brought up the shooting, it triggered something in you. You assumed he knew about your file and you felt threatened. That's why you went to the Bat."

"Yeah."

"And now... nothing?" James raises an eyebrow, gesturing to the empty air. "It's all good now?"

It wouldn't be a good story if it was all good. You twist away from James, leaning against a nearby pillar, "Not exactly. I don't know if he really knows or not, it just felt like a scary coincidence. You know? But I told Batman and he said he'd look into it. I trust him above all else."

"You seemed so sure the night I interviewed you."

"I was looking for patterns."

James hums. "The Bat seems to really like you."

That was a shift. You perk up a bit. “What do you mean?”

“He speaks highly of you. Says I can trust you like I trust him. If you say you feel safe for now, I trust you." Your skin prickles with flattery. "There's just something that's not quite making sense to me."

“Oh?”

"When I looked into your file, nothing looked out of place. GCPD keeps a log of who accesses a file, and from what I could tell, it hadn’t been touched in years. It looked fine… at first.”

Had this been a few days ago, this information would have shook you to your core. It still does, but for an entirely different reason now.

“I’m—admittedly—not great with computers. Normally, I’d ask the guys down in IT about this kind of thing, but seeing as… anyone could be involved, I had my daughter take a look at it. She-“

“Your daughter?”

James pauses. You were no cop, but that didn’t sound particularly legal. Then again, you didn’t have much room to speak. “She… she showed me the metadata, beyond just the stuff we usually see up front, and she found something. The database logs who accesses what because poking around files you have no business looking at can get your badge taken. Needless to say, she found more than a few things wrong.”

“Oh?” This time, your “oh” sounds decidedly more nervous.

“The name and badge number of the last person to access your file was scrubbed from the frontend, but it was still available on the backend. It was an officer, Paul Brown. When I pulled him aside to ask why he needed your file, he claimed he didn’t know anything about it or you. He seemed to be telling the truth, but doing some further digging, I found a trail of cases he’d been accessing over the past two years. Cases related to certain notable figures in the city.”

Notable figures. Like Bruce? Was there more he hadn’t told you?

"I found a connection between those cases and some recent movement from the Penguin. Turned out the guy was a mole feeding intel to Cobblepot. And not just him. I was checking the files he accessed against a timeline of events, and I have reason to believe he’s been feeding a couple of politicians the same need-to-know information. Politicians like Daniel Roberts.”

“Councilman Roberts.” You feel your blood pressure rise as James nods, “Detective, I don’t mean to be rude, but should I even be hearing about this? This sounds serious, way too serious for me-“

“You were there that night at the party Wayne threw, and so was Roberts.”

“Well, yes, but that doesn’t mean anything. There were tons of politicians there who support the mayor. Bruce is interested in politics. Doesn’t mean he’s in bed with them.”

Your defense seems to intrigue James. He rests an arm on the floodlight, “Did the two seem chummy at the party?”

“They didn’t really… talk. I mean, he intervened when I got into an argument with Roberts, but-“

“An argument about what?”

You could kick yourself. It was like this man had a skill for drawing the truth out of you. “It was stupid. He said some stuff about Batman and it got me riled up. Bruce put out the fire.”

“Roberts is the most vocal anti-vigilante member on the city council. Now I know he's connected to a dirty cop, and that he's in Bruce Wayne's circle. Doesn't that seem a little strange to you?”

You swallow, “What exactly are these questions leading to, detective?”

James moves away from the floodlight, approaching you slowly, cautiously, as if he expected you to take flight the second he got too close. “You told me that night that you knew Wayne had information about you he shouldn't have. I found the thread, I pulled it, and now I find Wayne at the center all over again. I'm looking for patterns, too. So, I'm going to ask you again," You watch him reach into his pocket and pull out his phone, flipping the screen to you. In big, bold text, it reads, "NOD IF WE'RE BEING RECORDED" "Are you sure you're safe?"

You should win an Emmy for how you school your expression into one of complete nothingness. All the while in your head, you are cursing the very bed Bruce was conceived upon. You curse him for leaving you here to explain all this, but most of all, you wish you’d kept his bottle of brandy.

You shake your head. James blinks. "I'm sure." You watch him exhale heavily, shoving his phone back into his pocket. "I'm telling you what I believe, detective. I believe I was wrong about Bruce Wayne."

"Maybe. But maybe there's more out there I still need to find."

"You're a good detective, James. Thank you for caring so much. If you can't trust me, trust Batman. If there's something to find, he'll find it."

You can see the slight shake in James’ shoulders. You wonder if he’s starting to freeze up here. You reach into your pocket and hand him one of your warmers, and though he recoils when you first hold out your hand, he thinks about it for a moment, then takes it. "You and the Bat..." He starts, rubbing his thumb against the heat pack in his hand. "He tell you who he is?"

You dodge the question as stealthily as you can, "Did he tell you?"

James considers your question, stern-faced and shivering, “No. But I have my theories." After a moment, he side-eyes you. "You didn't answer my question."

"It's... not for me to say."

He's not satisfied, and you didn’t expect him to be, but he looks too tired to argue now. He runs a hand along his face and looks out onto the city horizon. Under his breath, you hear him whisper, “Yeah. I figured.”

"He trusts you a lot, you know. For the record. I can see why."

You watch him reach into the pocket of his coat and pull out a lighter and cigarette, bringing it to his lips to take a long, deep drag. He holds one out to you, but you shake your head. You'd never been one for smoking (you'd seen the effect it had on the insides), but you could envy the temporary peace on James' face as he blows out a cloud of smoke. "Not a lot of that to spare these days."

a/n: this was a bitch to write with a headache

[pomefioredove]

OH MY SEVEN! PLEASE I NEED A PART 2 OF MC GETTING BOUGHT BY NBC (or maybe they get bought by rsa? By like Chenya or Neige?)

part two of the NBC ending is here! very intrigued by the idea of an RSA ending, especially since our knowledge is limited. I also kin snow white so maybe I have a little soft spot for neige.

bonus: I had to stop writing this to save another animal that got inside. second time this week.

parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | 'bad' ending

summary: yuu transfers to RSA type of post: short fic characters: neige, chenya additional info: yuu is gender neutral, pretty platonic

This entire ordeal had been nothing if not shady.

From the purpose, to the "donations", to the absence of the prefect themselves...

...And now, the grand announcement- that of which Crowley had been hyping up for days- was cancelled.

"I don't get it," Epel murmurs, walking on a sideways footpath back to the hall of mirrors. "You really think he just took all the money and ran?"

Vil huffs, the disappointment heavy in his voice. "Well, it certainly seems that way. No one's seen him all day,"

Despite the sour mood over the trio of Pomefiore students, the day is bright and sunny. Birds sang, the sun shone, even the wind carried a suspiciously merry tune with it.

"We should not give up hope so soon. Anything could happen," Rook ponders. "Who knows? The day is not over yet."

"I'm starting to wish it was," Vil says. "It's far too jovial for such an underwhelming afternoon. And the whole purpose of this walk was to clear our minds... hmph."

Epel squints ahead, taking in the way beams of sunlight seem to shine through the foliage, casting rays of gold over the usually darker campus.

"Y'know, I betcha- I-I mean, I think you might be onto something. It is unusually cheery today, isn't it?"

Vil huffs. "Wonderful. Nature itself mocks me,"

"Non, it's not the climate which has changed... it's more of a presence. Monsieur Pommette is correct," Rook says. "Something has shifted here."

Vil rolls his eyes, not exactly in the mood to be playing word games with Rook again. He shoots a glare to Epel, warning the boy not to encourage him, and a silence falls over the three.

Though... he still cannot deny that something feels aloof. Something that isn't sitting right with him...

He sighs. "Perhaps we should check on the prefect. Just in case,"

And so the three stop in their tracks and awkwardly, though hurriedly, walk to Ramshackle.

Nothing is quite amiss about the building itself, though, still, there's something hazy and dreamlike about it. A warm, golden glow that turns the rough and brittle exterior into a quaint and charming home, full of light.

"I don't like this," Epel murmurs. Vil does not respond, but he understands. He's having similar thoughts.

Just as they're about to enter, someone tall and dark steps outside.

"Crowley!" all three snap, in varying tones of voice.

The man goes stiff and, for a moment, looks as if he's about to make a run for it- though he thankfully holds his ground. "Ah- good afternoon, dear pupils. Having a... studiful day?"

"That's not a word," Vil crosses his arms and glares. "Why are you here?"

"I was... well... just discussing some things... with... the prefect..."

He sounds utterly nervous.

Vil's eyes narrow. "What are you hiding?"

Before he can answer, the door behind him opens again, and you peer outside, giving Crowley a chance to escape. "Guys?"

"Trickster! We are relieved to see you in good health!"

"Hm? Why wouldn't I be?"

Epel shakes his head. "W-well, you just haven't been around much, and we saw Crowley- hey, where'd he go?"

Vil grumbles something indistinct, massaging his temples. "That man..." he sighs. "But back to business. Are you well? What's happened?"

You look away. "Well-"

Thankfully, before you have to explain it yourself, the door opens wider, leaving the Pomefiore trio face-to-face with the one person they least expected to see.

Neige beams. "Oh, my... hello, Vil! I didn't think I'd run into you here!"

The housewarden's eyes immediately narrow, and it takes him a moment to respond. "Yes, well, as you know, I go to school here. Would anyone care to explain this?"

A voice from behind the trio echoes. "Oh, I volunteer!"

Epel squeaks and jumps (much to his embarrassment) and the other two whirl around to an ever-smiling face they can't quite recall...

"See, we're on the moving squad," Che'nya giggles, slinking back to the front door of Ramshackle. "You wanna know why? I'm sure you're just dying with curiosity, aren't you?"

"I can put the pieces together myself, thank you," Vil murmurs. "But I do have a few questions."

Che'nya opens his mouth wide again-

"-Not for you," he turns to you. "How? And why, exactly?"

You shrug, looking to Neige for help.

Which he gladly provides, of course. "Well... it was more of a school decision. We heard what was happening, and held a vote," he says, speaking tentatively while under Vil's astute gaze. "We've heard lots about how much your prefect has helped here, and how unfortunate their circumstances are, and... well..."

"A person like that just doesn't go to NRC," Che'nya snickers.

Vil glares for a moment longer, and then sighs. "Well... this is certainly a turn of bad luck for the lot of us,"

"But I can visit!" you insist.

Neige and Che'nya both nod in agreement, though the latter's placid smile makes his approval seem less genuine.

"Well," Vil says, turning to the boys beside him. "Don't you two have anything to say?"

Epel clears his throat, trying his best to sound light and formal. "I think it's... it's... I'll miss you," he sulks.

"A magnifique opportunity! Think how much you will learn, how many new people you will meet- oh, you must allow me to visit often! I could not bear to let you make all these beautiful discoveries on your own!" Rook says, dabbing the corner of his eyes with a handkerchief.

"Why am I not surprised?" Vil sighs. "Well... I suppose I have a duty to inform the others. And, perhaps..."

He pauses, his watchful gaze fixed on you.

"...We might hold a vote of our own."

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 SANTA DOESN’T KNOW YOU LIKE I DO idol ahn yujin x idol reader

❆warnings: yn is apart of new jeans, yn is a dork, wrote this while listening to santa doesn’t know you like I do by sabrina carpenter

this has got to be the fifth time yujin has bawled her eyes out all day. going through a big break up during the holiday season isn’t the ideal thing

the girl blew her nose into her tissue before she buried her face into her pillow, she’s about to start crying again until a soft voice interrupts her session of wallowing in self pity.

“yujin unnie?”

she knew exactly who’s voice it was.

to ahn yujin, yn was a nightmare, having one of your younger members best friends have a crush on you, isn’t the ideal thing for most people.

and it definitely isn’t the ideal thing for yujin.

new jeans is the new big thing, the six girls are completely untouchable with the success that they’ve been gaining since debut, so imagine the ive members reactions when rei brought one of the members to the dorm introducing the girl as her best friend.

yn was one of the most known members of the group, she was known for her charisma and talents and extroverted personality that has a way of wrapping everyone around her small finger

she also has the biggest crush on the leader of ive and the bane of yujin’s existence.

she just couldn’t stop taking her shots at the older girl, even when she was in a relationship, she’d say things like “hey unnie, when are gonna dump that chick?”, “rei told me that she was late again, couldn’t be me..”, “did you know I wrote super shy and attention about you? what songs has she written about you again?”

yujin groans and covers her face with her hands, “what?”

the door opens to reveal the younger girl with an adorable smile on her face, she had a white fuzzy beret on her head with a matching fuzzy white sweater and leg warmers, along with a hello kitty shaped polaroid around her neck.

“did you know it’s snowing outside?” yn asks as she walks into the room and closes the door behind her causing yujin to groan again.

“no.”

“oh, well it is.” she says before sitting beside yujin on her bed, “I heard about the break up…”

“yeah…” the older girl replies, “you’re probably happy about it.” she says before taking a peek at the younger girl only to see that she had genuine pity on her face.

“well… I can’t say I didn’t crack a smile when rei told me…” she says causing yujin to let out a laugh, “you’re the worst oh my-”

“but!” yn shouts over yujin waving her hands, “I am really sorry, I knew how much you liked her, even though she was hot trash.”

“gee, thanks yn.”yujin sniffs rubbing her nose. “she wasn’t that bad…” she adds making it yn’s turn to groan.

“oh come on!” the girl yells, throwing her head back, “she was the absolute worst, remember when she said ditto wasn’t even good when my members and I literally put our heart and souls into that comeback?”

“she also treated you horribly and you know that, I mean just look at the way she just left you.” yn says firmly causing yujin to nod her head defeatedly, “ I just know for sure that I could treat you better.”

“here we go again.” yujin says rolling her eyes, every time…

“no! I’m serious, she didn’t and never grew to know you like I do.” yn says grabbing yujin’s hand, “I know all your favourite songs… and even though I say the most stupid shit I definitely know how to make you laugh.” the younger girl adds causing yujin to let out a small laugh.

“see! when was the last time she genuinely made you laugh?”

“I don’t know…” yujin trails off and before she knows it, the tears are starting back up again, “gosh, I’m so stupid.”

yn immediately panics and pulls yujin closer to her, “no, you’re not! you’re the smartest, you’re hard working, dedicated and so talented and prettiest person I know, that asshole was just to stupid to see it.”

yujin looks deep into yn’s eyes and feels her face heat up slightly at the compliment, this is the first time the younger girls words have actually affected her and for some reason that makes her eyes water again.

“oh, how I wish I would kiss your tears away.” yn says before slapping her hand over mouth in shock, “there’s no way I just said that.”

yujin laughs again and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand, “maybe you can do that after the fifth date.”

“yeah…” yn trails of her face heated with embarrassment, “wait- what did you just say.”

“you heard me.”

“holy shit…” the younger girl says to herself, “wait does that mean there’s chance that you might go out with me after you’re healed from your relationship and stuff?”

“maybe” yujin shrugs.

“oh my gosh.” she says getting up from yujin’s bed, “oh my-! I gotta go tell rei!” she says before rushing out of yujin’s room.

yujin laughs at the younger girls antics but is shock when yn runs back into the room and places a kiss on the older girls cheek before running back out the room.

[fushiguruuzzzz]

࣪ ִֶָ☾. For Emma

𝄞 “Saw death on a sunny snow || for every life || forgo the parable || seek the light || my knees are cold || … || for Emma, forever ago” — Bon Iver

Playlist — Rainy Day Lovin’ | Moodboard

Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader

Words — 7.1k

Cw — reader highkey doesn’t fw Gojo at first, why do I always make the reader like this am I projecting (yes), death, angst, grief, brief descriptions of gore(?), use of y/n, I can’t write this stuff for shit I’m so sorry DONT BASE UR OPINION ON MY WRITING OFF OF THIS PLSPLSPLS, mentions/use of alcohol (reader picks up gojo from a party; he’s drunk), what is it with me and drunk stupid men omg, not proofread, lmk if I missed any!!

Working in a quiet little bookshop, your life consists of only crumpled pages of novels and the weight of your classes resting on your shoulders. When a certain white haired man one year your senior comes by, you’ve already decided you don’t like him. Unfortunately, you’ve always had a tendency to rebel against your own wants. You give yourself to what felt like your beginning and was eventually your end, Satoru Gojo. OR Satoru Gojo hates the rain, but he loved you more.

a/n — ughhhhhdhdhh I spent half of my time writing this procrastinating the ending I’m ngl. This was so difficult to write and then I had a random burst of energy and wrote like half of it in one night like hello???? But it’s probably still blegh idk. Um I’m sorry for this please don’t doxx me. No spoilers but aha…!!!!! I lwk teared up I fear. BLAME SIA FOR THIS NOT ME THIS WAS REVENGE

The very moment you set eyes on Satoru Gojo, you knew he was trouble.

It was a brisk autumn day, shades of brown and orange blanketing the streets and casting a warm, cozy mood over the city. Your little book store was in its element, acutely so. The vintage wood and gold accents strewn throughout the shop reflected the dim light seeping in through the windows, surrounding you in a soft glow.

You were immersed in the newest stock of books, placing each one on the shelf with delicate precision when you heard a bell chime. The dainty little bell at the entrance made only a small noise, but one you’d learned to recognize in your months working here. Stepping down from the stool you’d been balancing on, your foot had barely touched the ground when a whiny voice broke through the silence.

“Suguru,” he drawled, all too pitiful for the time and place. “Can’t you come back later? You keep dragging me into these boring places, I just wanna get mochi,” he groaned. That was when you rounded the corner, entering the line of sight of the two men who had just arrived. One of them was a tall, white haired individual whose face was pulled up in what seemed to be dramatic irritation; the other, ravenette man looking all too fed up at his side. You assumed that the former had been the one complaining, considering the stark contrast in how comfortable the other looked compared to him. Suguru, that was his name. At least, that was what the man-child had said (or rather: howled). Suguru was somewhat a regular here, though you hadn’t caught his name until then. You didn’t recognize his companion. Something about him felt familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on exactly what that was.

It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that your first impression wasn’t positive. Your thoughts of him changed, but not so much for the better, upon meeting his eye. Something in him seemed to shift then. His eyes lit up as they did a once over on you, posture straightening and a crooked grin tugging at his lips.

“Hush, Satoru. You dragged me into like, four different dessert stores today. You’ll survive five minutes of being surrounded by literature,” the other boy, Suguru, grumbled. Satoru Gojo?.. Oh, you got it now. They went to school with you, that’s why they seemed familiar before. You hadn’t recognized them at first glance because while you were only in your first year of university, they’d been in their second. But you knew that name, everyone did. He was rather known around campus, though not for bad reasons, not exactly ones you’d consider great either. You knew little of the blue eyed man, only a few (three, to be exact) traits burrowing into the depths of your mind. 1. Prodigy 2. Charming (disgusting so) 3. Cocky asshole.

So when he was silent for a beat too long, eyes only flickering back to his friend when he turned to him, you knew he was trouble.

That sly smile still residing on his lips, he nodded at Suguru. “Well…” he said. “I guess I’ll let it slide for now.”

Geto glanced at him, then to you, unimpressed. With a small nod, a polite greeting to you, he rolled his eyes. As he grabbed Gojo by the material of his expensive looking jacket, he grumbled.

“Just look at the damn books.”

Situating yourself behind the cash register, you let out a sigh. It was only you on the shift at the moment, your tiny little establishment usually lacking the amount of customers to require more. You tried to make yourself look less bored than you were, mindlessly tapping your fingers against the leather cover of a novel sitting near the cash register. Courtesy of your boss, going on your phone whilst customers were around was strictly forbidden. You were sure that the college kids were too exhausted to care, nor would they anyway, but rules were rules. You could keep yourself busy, the little voice in your head was enough.

You’d only barely begun to let your mind wander when the soft clunk of elbows meeting the structure you leaned on met your ears. You looked up to see Satoru Gojo staring down at you, winter blue eyes sparkling with a determined curiosity.

“Hey there,” he said, snowy hair shifting as he tilted his head. He was leaned forward lazily, as if preparing for a conversation that was yet to happen. You quirked a brow, feeling the effortless charisma roll off of him in waves. You didn’t allow yourself to be tricked, though, you refused to be like the rest of his little fans fawning and kissing his shoes. Five minutes in and you’d already decided you disliked him, and all he’d said was a greeting. You tried not to judge a book by its cover, but inside you was a need to stick out that overran the compassion.

Your reply was short, a simple “Hi,” all that you felt was necessary. It wasn’t like you really knew the guy at all, you owed him nothing but the service given to every customer that had ever stepped into your humble little shop.

His grin seemed to falter for a split second, b it was quickly plastered back onto that face of his. How long had he been smirking like that? It seemed more habit than amusement at this point.

“Do I know you?” he asked.

You let out a hum under your breath, shrugging. “I don’t think so. Do you?”

His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you were sure he could see right through you. Every bone in your body felt all too exposed to his prying eyes, every concealed bit of you shining through the cracks. But then he smiled, and everything else washed away. “You’re in uni, aren’t you?”

In return to your soft, approving nod, he clicked his tongue as if proud of himself. “Ah, that’s where. I knew I wouldn’t forget a face like yours.”

You were about to ask him to elaborate when a deeper, more annoyed voice cut through. “I leave you alone for five seconds and you’re already trying to charm the employee?” He rolled his eyes, looking between you and Satoru with a quirked brow. Gojo stood up a little straighter, a dorky, sideways grin adorning his face.

“Little ol’ me? Never.”

Amusement hinted at Geto’s face, but he was good at hiding it. He took up the empty space between Gojo and the counter, placing two books down before you. As you gently picked them up and scanned, the soft red glow accompanied by a soft beep echoing through the room, he watched.

“Nice to see you. How’ve you been?” you asked the black haired man standing across the counter, eyes kept on your nimble hands as they bagged up the paperbacks he’d been purchasing. He responded with a polite smile and a nod, radiating an air of nonchalance, far in contrast to the radiant man beside him.

“Likewise. I’ve been well, you?”

You opened your mouth to speak but were swiftly interrupted, Gojo’s mouth agape as he spoke. “Hold on hold on,” he said, picking his jaw off of the floor. Dramatic much? “You didn’t tell me you knew the cashier.”

“Maybe because you whine every time I even utter the word ‘book’,” Suguru rolled his eyes.

“I am the most intellectual person to ever roam the earth, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Watching them go back and forth, you had to suppress a laugh. They argued in a way that radiated ‘I’ve been dealing with him for years too many’, or something of the sort. You chose to ignore Satoru’s dramatic yearning for your attention, handing Suguru his books and bidding them farewell.

Freedom.

Or… for the next two days, at least.

The bell over the door chimed, quick and soft above the door. It only took a quick glance, a split second for you to recognize who exactly that was. His porcelain hair stuck out against the rustic wood bookshelves like a sore thumb, his bright eyes already shining the moment they met yours.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he grinned.

“…I work here?”

He rolled his eyes, brushing off your dismissal of his attempt at being sly. He took the few short strides from the door to the checkout, and the two of you found yourself exactly where you’d been a few days prior. Except this time there was no Suguru to interrupt (aka save you), and he was all the more annoying.

You let out a breath, already anticipating his behaviour. “I don’t take you for much of a reader.” He shrugged in response, a dorky, grossly pretty grin crossing his face.

“Paying that much attention to me?”

“Your whining is pretty hard to ignore.”

“Ouch,” he placed a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. His brows furrowed, a crease deepening between them. If you didn’t know exactly what type of man he was, you might’ve genuinely thought he looked like a kicked puppy. He strode over to you, his long legs stretching over the distance with ease. He was tall, very. Not that it mattered. You didn’t care. You didn’t even bother to notice his long limbs, the way his biceps flexed beneath his long sleeve as he reached down, grabbing a book sitting between you. It wasn’t like your eyes lingered for a moment too long, it wasn’t like you suddenly felt oddly uncomfortable being so close to him. The counter separated you, but it did little to keep the distance. The small width of it was to thank for that, you made a mental note to get a stool or something—anything that was a rightful excuse to scoot away.

He placed the novel down. “So, what’s your name?” he asked. He radiated confidence, like he didn’t mind pushing into your space. The only indication that he knew if your disinterest was the way his eyes flickered over your face, all too observant to miss the way it contorted.

“You gonna buy something?” you moved past his question, making a point to glance down at the disregarded item, now placed gently upon a stack of a few others.

He sniggered. “Yeah, but tell me your name.” He didn’t break eye contact with you as he slid it over the counter, the cover making a rough noise with the friction of the wood.

You gave no response, the only noise in the place being the scanning of his book (which you were sure he hadn’t even read the title of) and the dull sound of the constant chatter along the streets. It seeped in through the cracked windows, like a buzzing hive of bees.

“1700 yen,” you said. Your voice held a sort of boredom, but you didn’t care to actually be rude. You just weren’t going to be pinky pie from my little pony whenever you saw the man, and he surely couldn’t blame you for that.

That stupid damn grin never faltered under the weight of your gaze. He tapped his card against the machine like it was second nature, took the bag from you smoothly, hand brushing against yours. “I’ll be back,” he said. And he fully intended to keep that promise.

⋆

“No name, long time no see!”

You suppressed a groan, the all too energetic voice cutting through the quiet of the store like a knife. By the first word, you’d have known who it was. This guy never gave up, did he? And for the record, it had not been a long time since you last saw him. A day and a half, 34 hours to be exact. Though it wasn’t like you were counting or anything, in fact, you dreaded the moment he’d walk through those doors.

He made it his mission to visit you daily. Every day he’d buy a book you were certain would do nothing but collect dust on his shelf, seemingly never going over his budget. That only pissed you off further. How much money did he have to blow it all just to see you? You hated how endearing it was. You hated him.

“‘Afternoon, Gojo,” you sighed, emerging from the depths of the shelves and into the light. It was a sunny day, at least, compared to the rest of the dull winter grey that had found home in the heart of Tokyo.

“You know, I’m starting to get the impression that you don’t like me,” he said.

You attempted to look surprised, though the both of you knew very well that you weren’t. “Wow, what would ever make you think that?”

“You won’t even tell me your name? Am I really that bad?” he huffed, tossing his head back in an exaggerated show of frustration.

“You want the honest answer?”

“Hush.”

He straightened his neck, now craning it slightly down to gaze at you. He was a little ways away, but he might as well have been one with you with the way his eyes bored into you. It was intense in an anticipating way, if that made sense.

“Go out with me.”

You blinked, a little dumbfounded for a moment before gathering the bits and pieces of your brain that had just been scattered across the country. Be logical. Obviously he was kidding, obviously he didn’t mean it. I mean, he barely knew you. He didn’t even know your name, and it was your coldness to thank for that. Surely he wouldn’t want you, not genuinely at least. “You’re ridiculous,” you rolled your eyes.

“Aw, come on!” he whined, and you could’ve sworn you saw a hint of real disappointment behind those cerulean orbs of his.

You suppressed a grin. Maybe his pestering had some perks, maybe it was even entertaining. That wasn’t to say you appreciated the mockery of him “asking you out,” but you figured it was funny as long as you didn’t allow yourself to be deceived. “You making a purchase or not?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, lazily snatching a book from the rack nearest to him. He didn’t even look at the cover. “This one.”

It was pride and prejudice.

⋆

Your first time seeing Satoru outside of your workplace other than fleeting glances around campus, you were drinking coffee. You were sat on a barstool, chunky sweater loosely slung over your body as you tried to manage both typing an essay and sipping your drink. You were stuck on the first sentence, the text cursor staring impatiently up at you as you begged your mind to conjure something up.

‘If I could change one thing about my past, I would change…’

And that was it. That was all you could think of, the unfinished phrase being the farthest you could dive into the depths of your conscious. You didn’t know. It felt as though you had no answer, and yet a million all at once. You let out an annoyed groan, shoving your face into your hands. The frustration was a good enough distraction, considering you failed to notice the figure sliding into the seat next to you.

“Lookin’ a little stressed, mystery girl. You okay?” he teased, though there was more to it. An underlying softness, what you might even say is genuine concern.

You wanted to quip back, to keep up that consistently annoyed facade you’d managed to keep for the past few weeks. But everything was so overwhelming, you were running on a few hours of sleep, and you felt like your brain would implode if you tried to pack another thought in there. So instead of groaning or shooing him away, you peeked out over your hands and replied softly. “No.”

His playful grin twitched, threatening to disappear. The moment you opened your mouth and instead of an insult he was met with something near vulnerability. “…what’s up?”

“Stuff,” you replied curtly, before softening. “Right now I just… I don’t know what to do for this stupid assignment.”

“Hm,” he said, a crease forming between his brows. “What’s the question?”

You gently nudged your laptop, rotating it on the countertop so that he could real the half-sentence you’d left off at. He stared at it for a moment, eyes flickering back to you. “What, you don’t have anything you regret?”

Your voice was soft and smooth like butter, but it held a sort of shake, almost fearful. “Quite the opposite.”

A beat of silence passed, understanding swirling through the air as well as the bits and pieces of the layer that he felt he’d broken through. Whether you liked it or not, he knew you. Maybe not your name, but you. He’d promised himself that he would, and he was a man of his word when it mattered.

“How would you answer?” you asked, growing shifty from how exposed you felt.

He paused, contemplating whether to tell you the truth or not. He bit his cheek, eyes unfocused. “I think I would want to be born someone else.”

That shocked you more than anything else. He was Satoru Gojo, smart and charismatic and confident. He was the last person you’d expect to wish he were another. Everyone else wished they were him, so why did he long for the opposite? But every bit of wit was a layer encasing the deeper parts, the ones that hurt to look at. You knew that all too well.

Conversation flowed much better after that, and it was the first time you had allowed yourself to indulge in his presence as much as you wanted to. He was… nice. Nice to talk to, a nice person, generally. You got to see another side of him, not just the silly man who spent disgusting amounts of money to see you and kept begging you to go out with him—which you still thought was derisive. He was just Satoru, laughing and smiling and helping you figure things out in the midst of what seemed to be dark clouds surrounding you. He was the light.

You were just about to part ways, the sun setting over the horizon and casting a warm glow in its wake. You reached out, taking him by the elbow to get his attention. “Y/n,” you said. “My name is y/n.”

You swore his grin couldn’t have gotten any wider. “Nice to meet you y/n, I’m Satoru Gojo.”

⋆

Gojo surrounded you nearly as much as the sky did from then on. It seemed that was the way things were for the next… what was it, month? 30 days, 30 visits from Gojo, save for the occasional day of absence. Unfortunately, you’d caught yourself warming up to him. You longed to deny it, to believe yourself when you did. You just couldn’t. He started popping up everywhere; along the streets as you walked from one class to another, “just passing by” your class (which you still wondered how he knew), he was everywhere. Usually you managed to duck out before he could embarrass you, taking full advantage of knowing your name and choosing to shout it at every possible opportunity.

This was one of those times.

“Y/n!” he shouted, momentarily turning away from his two best friends to get your attention.

You gave him a sidelong glance before looking away, avoiding him in a dramatic, almost cartoonish manner. Before you knew it, he was by your side. He had a way of making sure you couldn’t avoid him even if you wanted to.

“Am I gonna see you tonight?” he asked.

You shrugged. “Considering I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m going to say no.”

“Come on,” he drawled with a pout, tilting his head to the side. “Party. That big fancy house down the street. You should come.”

“Uh… no.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Just once? For me?”

You hesitated with your next attempt to shut him down, and that was when he knew he’d gotten you. He’d won, yet again. With a wolfish smirk as he retreated, he called back, “I’ll see you there!”

You grumbled under your breath about how you didn’t know why you agreed to these things, and how annoying he was. Deep down, you knew it was all lies. You were sure you’d go anywhere if he asked nicely enough, maybe even the ends of the universe. You just weren’t ready for that conversation, not yet. He was a shining star, proud and bright, and you were nothing but an emotionally stunted mortal basking in his beauty. Him and his disgustingly beautiful eyes, the way people did a double take every time he passed them. He was everything, and he’d only recently learned your name.

That very same night you found yourself feeling utterly ridiculous as you walked up to the front door, wondering whether you should knock or not. It took another group of people walking straight in to give you that answer, pushing through the door and immediately being hit in the face with the sweaty heat of the party. Why were you even doing this for him? Last month, if given the same pleads as you had earlier that day you would’ve shot him down without a second thought. Why did that change? Why had you fallen for his tricks, just as you promised yourself you wouldn’t?

“Y/nnnn,” slurred an all too familiar voice from behind you. You turned to see Satoru Gojo stumbling out from the kitchen, a red solo cup in hand. Some of it sloshed out as he approached you, the liquid falling on the floor and looking like something radioactive.

“Gojo,” you said, instinctively placing a hand under his arm as he almost fell over you. “I see you’ve gotten started.”

His lower lip was pushed out into a pout, his eyes heavy and lazy as they looked you over. “I don’t… usually drink,” he swallowed thickly, eyes landing on yours once again. “But you were taking too long… I had to pass the time,” he explained, the corner of his mouth quirked up. You rolled your eyes, letting go of him with an unimpressed glance. He wished you hadn’t, he liked the way your hand felt on him. He wasn’t entirely sure if it was the alcohol or just how much he yearned for your touch, but it was unlike anything he had ever felt before. You made him feel those things rather often, it seemed you were a capsule of new emotions. Ones he hadn’t opened up to prior, ones he wasn’t sure were meant for him. Honestly, he didn’t know what was meant for him, but as he looked at you in the dim yellow lights of the frat party he had a pretty good idea. It was muggy and gross and sweat was already starting to create a soft sheen over your hairline, but to him you’d never looked more beautiful. Because you were here for him, you’d come for him and that was enough.

You glanced around the party, the one you hadn’t wanted to attend in the first place (which definitely had not changed upon arrival), and then at your disgustingly drunk, lightweight loser of a man standing next to you. Your friend? Maybe.

“Did you come with friends?” you asked, but the answer was fairly obvious. Satoru Gojo was rarely found without the people he loved… but now he was with you. Was that a switch up on his end, or was it sticking to his pattern? You couldn’t tell, and that wasn’t something you wanted to work out.

“Mm…” he hummed, as if he’d forgotten. “Yeah, but I don’ wanna be with them… wanna see you…”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart sped up embarrassingly and the face only grew warmer. His friends were nowhere to be found, and you may have seemed like you lacked an ounce of compassion to anyone else, but you couldn’t leave him.

With a sigh and eyes that avoided his all too much, you took him by the hand and led him towards the door. He was all too pleased, barely even bothered asking where you were going. “Let’s get you out of here, yeah? You’ve done enough partying.”

He offered a protesting whine in return, but didn’t dare to pull his hand from yours or even let his steps falter. Well, not voluntarily. He wasn’t the most coordinated drunk.

“Mmh- yeah, there ya’ go.” You guided his arm around your shoulder, and though your hand had parted from his, he didn’t mind the replacement. The nights air was cool in comparison to the interior of the house, refreshing against your flushed skin. It was momentarily silent as you walked down the sidewalk, choosing to save the money you would’ve spent on an uber for the drive two blocks away.

“Y/n?”

You could fill up an entire pad of paper if you tallied every time he said your name. He couldn’t help himself, it tasted so sweet on his tongue.

You responded with a hum, not wasting too much air on what you assumed would be some form of delirious, intoxicated thoughts.

“Why don’t you like me?”

You stopped in your tracks, and you swore your head had never whipped around faster. “What?”

He let out a sigh as if it was a great inconvenience to explain. His arm was still wrapped around you loosely, though there wasn’t much purpose to it now that you’d stopped walking. He glanced at you, and you were met with a rare flicker of something akin to hurt in his eyes.

“I… why don’t you like me? I come ‘round your little shop ‘nd I buy books… I don’t read any of them… and… and I beg you to go out with me, to just look at me, and you don’t. Why?” His voice was surprisingly even for his state. “Somethin’ wrong with me?”

All you could do was stand there and blink for a moment. He’d meant it. All of it. No mockery, nothing. Honestly, in the moment, he couldn’t have phrased it any better? Made it sound like he really wanted you, without that teasing tone underlying his voice? “I… I didn’t think you were being serious, Gojo.”

At the formal name he glared, but he didn’t comment. “I don’t even go for other girls,” he mumbled. “Why would I ask you if I wasn’t?”

Even in his slurred, tipsy condition, he had a point. You had never seen him with a woman, save for Shoko and when the need came, like schoolwork or helping out or anything of the nature. The point was, he didn’t pursue others romantically. You knew this, he knew you knew this, so he didn’t understand why you felt as though he was deceiving you.

“You’re right.”

“So…?” he said, a little more cheeky now.

With a huff and a few begrudging steps forward, you responded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll go out with you.”

⋆

Your laughter rang out over the half empty streets, loud and unguarded. You’d spent the day visiting various places; the arcade, lunch, sipping hot chocolate as you walked through the park. More than you’d dreamed of, honestly, and to think you’d rejected him so many times. It felt as if your vision had been freed of the foggy lenses you’d been looking at him through before, seeing him for the kind (although a little cocky) man he was. The man he’d been trying to prove was there all this time.

“And then-“ you were cut off, the feeling of a small, wet droplet landing on your face pulling you from the conversation. You brought a finger up, wiping it and examining it for a second, long enough to come to the conclusion that it was raining. You looked upwards, as did he. The clouds were dark and gray, swirling with the threat of thunder and downpour. Your reactions were completely different, to say the least. While your eyes twinkled with awe and subtle anticipation, his nose crinkled in disdain. For once you were the bright eyed one, and he was just as gloomy as the sky above.

“It’s raining!”

“…it’s raining.”

You looked down from the somber atmosphere, met with the picture of his annoyance. “You don’t like the rain?”

He shook his head, meeting your eye. You almost gasped, but the singular nonchalant bone in your body made you refrain. “But it’s the best weather!”

“It’s dark and gloomy and wet,” he said, looking at you like you had spoken another language. He was utterly dumbfounded by your simple opinion.

More raindrops began to fall, decorating the concrete with dark, tiny spots. It was only then that you realized nearly everyone head cleared, leaving only the two of you and a few others as well as the passing vehicles. You smiled, wider than he’d ever seen you smile before. Your head was thrown back as you backed away from him, your arms outstretched at your side as you took in every bit of the rain. “Come on!” you said, a short laugh leaving your lips. Your eyes were closed now, but he was sure they’d be crinkling if they were open. “You can’t tell me this isn’t beautiful.”

“Hmm, yeah… I guess you’re right,” he agreed, but he wasn’t looking at the rain.

Satoru hated the rain, but he figured than the dampness of his bones and the way his vision blurred was all just fine as long as he could make out your foggy figure in the midst of it. Though his body hated the storms, his soul was unaffected, and all it did was long for you. So when your own spirit basked so happily in the wet weather, he couldn’t help but be content.

⋆

Satoru Gojo was a good boyfriend. Had you dared to tell yourself from a few months in the past, she would laugh in your face and send you away. But you were you now, and you knew all too well how good of a man yours was.

He opened doors for you, he cracked cheesy jokes when he knew you needed a laugh (they were so unfunny that you couldn’t even help it, he knew that), he gave you jackets when you were cold and he loved to guess your flavour of lipgloss before dropping you off at class every morning. He opened jars for you and braided your hair on tense, quiet nights when you didn’t have any words left to speak. He loved you more than someone who’s only known you for a handful months should, but you were not planning on complaining about that part. Some may say it was the honeymoon phase, some would argue it was love at first sight. You couldn’t be sure. All you knew was that you were happy, and that couldn’t be changed.

You felt a certain surge of bliss flow through you the moment you woke up, not because it was a particularly great day, but because of the first thing you were blessed with the sight of. Satoru was curled up in your bed, mouth agape as he slept on your chest. His white hair was fuzzy and strewn in gentle spikes surrounding his head, a hint of drool collecting at the corners of his lips. He looked so stupid, yet so absolutely peaceful that you were convinced he was beauty in its highest form. Screw whatever Greek mythology said, nothing blessed the eyes as greatly as the face of Satoru at ease.

A low grumble fell from his lips, though neither of you knew what words they were. His pale lashes blinked open, bleary eyes meeting yours. “Hey there,” he cheesed, mouth already forming into that cocky smirk. You hated it, hated the way you felt like every other one of his crazy fangirls every time he flashed it at you. Except it was just you, only for you.

“Morning, Satoru.”

He snuggled further into your chest, the fabric of your (his?) shirt crinkling beneath his nose as it nudged it. “Dream of me?”

You rolled your eyes, gently flicking him in the side of his head. His head shot up, looking cartoonishly offended. “That’s not nice!”

You grinned. “I’m not nice.”

He moved his face closer to yours, your features level as he looked into your eyes. “But you’re supposed to be nice to me,” he said, though no real emotion lied in the sentence. His were eyes flitting down to your lips, looking almost like some sort of deer in headlights. His head dipped down, just millimetres from you. He barely thought as he pressed his own to yours, lips meeting in a soft, sleepy way.

You parted for breath, a soft “satoruuuu,” tumbling from you before he was shutting you up with another kiss.

“Shh, I didn’t spend weeks begging for you to like me for you to not let me kiss you. Boyfriend privilege,” he tutted against your lips, and any protest you’d begun to shoot back was swallowed by him once again. You sassed, but he felt the way your hands tightened in his hair and your throat bobbed every time his teeth ran over your bottom lip. You loved him, and you hated it. It only made him like it all the much more.

⋆

The day was sunny, beating down on heaps of smiling faces as they took in all its warmth. The sky was clear and blue, you’d made a comment about how it looked similar to his eyes. He liked that, but he hoped you liked looking into his eyes better. The streets were busy, the sound of overlapping conversations and gas engines almost overwhelming. The only thing that grounded you was your hand wrapped around his bicep, his gentle guide through the crowd bringing you back to earth. You liked to act so big and tough, but there were moments like these where you were reminded that you were human too. Sometimes, you needed him. Needed your toru. You smiled bashfully when you came to the realization, to which he only smirked. It was as if he could read your mind, as if you were so in sync that he didn’t need to hear you voice it to know what you were thinking about.

But Satoru didn’t remember any of that. No, not clearly, at least. Looking back felt like trying to watch a video on a scratched disk, like there had been an old cameras lens’s blocking his vision.

All he remembered was screeching wheels and the sound of you being nudged just a little too close to the road, the way you tripped and fell seeming to be in slow motion. He remembered blood, too. A lot of it. It was yours. There were people screaming and the person behind the wheel crying, but by then it had all been tuned out by his ringing ears. He suddenly felt dizzy, all too dizzy. He’d zeroed in on your crumpled figure, hadn’t even noticed himself falling until his knees thudded against the rough road. His hands reached out to you, he was shaking. He nudged you once. A second time. No response.

“Y/n?” he asked weakly, as if a whisper only to you, avoiding the hundreds of eyes crowing around. He could hear distant police sirens, flashing lights bleeding in the corners of his vision. No. No. No no no no no. He could only think of one word then, the stubborn denial that this wasn’t happening. He was dreaming, he would wake up cuddled next to you and you’d wipe his tears, remind him that you weren’t going anywhere. But it wasn’t, the blood that stained his hands as he reached out to you was warm and wet and crimson, equally as real as the love you shared had been. The tears collecting in his eyes were real, too. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t even think, he could barely cry.

He cradled you, and he felt no pulse as he placed his fingers on your neck. Your hair was stained ruby, leaving a trail of haunting colour in its wake as it dragged along his finger. You were being pulled from him, he tried to resist, but his arms felt weak and his mind numb. This couldn’t possibly be happening. You couldn’t go so soon, not when you had so many regrets, not when you’d finally gotten over it all and loved and lived with him. He needed more time, he needed to show you that everything was okay. But now he couldn’t, and he was left sitting on the side of the road as what used to be you was driven away. He lost you twice that day.

Once the road was empty and he was left with nothing but your looming absence, it started raining. Your favourite weather. Usually he’d be delighted, he’d bring you outside by the hand and watch as your heart was filled by every drop of water. Not this time. Now every bit of the liquid was wasted on a soul that could no longer be filled, what would only ever be a leaking shell of a man who loved foolishly. While the rain was what healed you, you were what healed him. Without you he was left a wounded man without aid, filled with cracks and chips that would reside with him forever. It was his fault. His fault for bringing you, his fault for loving you at all. After all, there was no curse more twisted than love.

Satoru Gojo hated the rain. Now and forever.

⋆

He wished you lived to see how much you mattered. He knew you tended to doubt it, didn’t value yourself nearly as much as you should have.

The bookstore you worked at closed not long after your passing. The only other worker there was a good friend of yours, she quit. She couldn’t handle your loss. Nobody could. Every time Gojo passed the empty building he was reminded of you, the old store just as lifeless as your body had been in that casket. You lingered everywhere, in every old book and cup of coffee and stupid philosophical question his professor would ask. You lingered in the sheets of his that you once slept in, your legs tangled with his as you laughed in the piercing bright of the morning. The clothes you’d scattered around his room untouched since the day you died, moving them felt like erasing you. Even washing his sheets was hard. He got a whiff of your perfume in one of his hoodies and he just broke, started ugly sobbing on the floor of his bedroom right then and there. Tears soaked the sweater, and he couldn’t help but notice that they looked like raindrops. Your favourite type of day was the one most similar to the picture of his despair, the way he curled into a ball and wailed to himself as he mourned your death. He figured that wasn’t too much of a surprise. You’d always appreciated the gloomier things, after all.

Sometimes he’d convince himself you were still there. He’d tell himself that you were right beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder and your voice ringing out in what was undoubtedly a sassy quip, but every time he turned to search for you he was met with nothing but a gaping emptiness, the hollow walls you haunted. You were no longer, you wouldn’t come back. You never would. He didn’t even get you tell you he loved you once more, kiss the soft, untouched expanse of your skin, remind you that you were delicate and precious and all his. Every day, the hatred inside of him grew and swallowed every bit of who he used to be. The man you loved was gone, his vessel unrecognizable. Satoru died that day too, but nobody mourned him because he wasn’t the one bleeding.

He sat on the roof of your bookshop, gazing out over the skyline. Buildings stuck up, jagged and irregular as they made tough lines over the horizon. You would’ve liked this view, but you simply hadn’t thought of coming up here before. Only he had, and by then it was far too late.

He looked down at his hand, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. It shouldn’t have been you. It should have been him. Maybe then he’d be reincarnated and born as someone else, hopefully reunited with you in the next lifetime. He had a feeling you would, your souls seemed to dance around each other in that sort of rhythm. But no, it had to be you. Did his suffering ever end? Tears fell and wet his skin, but suddenly, there were too many. Too many, too far.

He looked up, and he didn’t know if it was a cruel reminder or a gift sent by you, but it was raining.

He couldn’t bring himself to get up and go home that time. He embraced it, lying on the ground and imagining that if he closed his eyes tight enough, he’d open them and be able to see you again. When his eyelids parted, he was met with gloomy clouds and dim skies. In the midst of the darkness, he caught a glimpse of what he swore to be your silhouette. You were sly, even in the afterlife.

That day he didn’t lay in the rain; Satoru Gojo would never be caught dead doing that. He lied beneath you, raindrops that soaked into every part of him and sent chills up his spine. He knew you wanted him to. You didn’t come back as a sunset, you didn’t paint the skies with pink and orange. You were a chilly, rainy day that reminded him of your hands in his and your wide smile as you willingly gave yourself a cold, because with the sickness came a moment of joy. There was more truth to that than let on. Yes, now he grieved and lied in a puddle of tears and rainwater, but not long ago he’d been with you. He’d held you and felt the warmth of you on his fingertips, heard your voice ring through his ears, been granted the bliss that was your lips on his. He’d gotten the greatest joy of all, and he knew that if he died in this moment his only regret would be not embracing it more than he had, if that was even possible. He’d loved you, he’d felt your love. He’d been blessed with the softness of your gaze and the twinkle in your smile, seen the soft parts of you that would forever remain a secret between him and the rain. The knowledge of that, the feeling of bits of your soul returning with every rumbling thunder crash and strike of lightning was enough for him to know that you hadn’t died. You never would, because you loved, and nothing that loves ever truly dies. You would live on through him and everyone else you came by, his family for years to come would hear the story of a stubborn girl who healed someone she hated without even knowing it. Even after you were long gone, you healed him, one dollop of water at a time.

For years after that, though begrudgingly, Satoru was never inside during a storm. His opinion of rain hadn’t altered in the slightest, no. Satoru still hated the rain, but he loved you far more.

tags: @anotherwriternamedclara @adoresia @sh0ot1ngst4r @azinniyaa @kashee-h @ruruisru @lizbix

note — why does he never catch a break omds… but on a real note I hate this real bad but wtvvvvvv I promised something and I’m a girl of my word. I don’t know how to write death I fear… and also the ending wasn’t even decided until very late into the story so it might’ve been a little sudden idkkkkkkuhhhhb

[lowkeyrobin]

Hello! I was wondering if you could write a James Hook x Reader. She’s Hans’ daughter but her relationship with him is complicated. Since he couldn’t become king he wants the reader to marry a prince so she can be a queen in the future. She tells him no prince would ever fall for her bc she’s a VK to get him to stop pressuring her. But the truth is she doesn’t even want to marry a prince bc she likes James.

Although she’s Hans’ daughter she’s friends with Bridget and Ella bc she’s nothing like her father personality wise and doesn’t want to be ever. Which is why James became intrigued with her and flirts. She’s always standing up for Bridget.

Anyway at the end Hans somehow finds out what’s going on between reader and James. Later at night he confronts the reader about it stating that she will marry a prince. But she finally stands up for herself. You can decide what he says but then he leaves and she breaks down but James comforts her bc he heard everything. You can decide the rest.

Sorry this is long thank you in advance!

oooo okay okay I can try! ; just so yk I only do gn / they/them readers but I usually keep gender pretty ambiguous lol ; thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy! ; also this gives pink pony club and I need someone to agree cause I feel crazy for thinking it ??? ; update on that I listened to ppc and it's now heavily influenced on that last part

JAMES HOOK ; complicated

summary ; a vk who acts like an ak catches his attention, fascinating him

warnings ; language, use of gorgeous but in a gn way who cares about societal norms

word count ; 1.5k

masterlist

"That boy, uh... Prince Charming, at your school, why not marry him?"

"Oh my fucking Christ, Dad" You groan. "One, I'm a VK, two, he doesn't like me, nor do I like him, three, stop with this conversation"

"What about that Snow White girl?"

You grumble, stomping away to your room to get away from your self projecting father. Every day for the past God-knows-how-long he'd keep bringing up you marrying into a royal family. Just because he lost a girl by being a douchebag apparently meant he had to project his insecurities on you.

You weren't like him at all, nor did you ever want to be. He was a complete asshat from what he's told you, thinking he was always in the right. You were a VK gone soft, or a VK with morals and a good heart, whatever floats your boat.

Your best friends Bridget and Ella were AK's who'd welcomed you into the good side with open arms. They were quiet and sort of shy, too scared to stand up for themselves. But that's why they had you, because being born as a villain kid meant you could be mean, you could use your voice to get what you wanted, or at least try.

"Go away, Hook. Leave her alone." you call, walking up on James and Maleficent picking on Bridget and her bright pink flower themed cake.

"Or what?" He questions, leaning away from Bridget, turning to you as you stand in front of her. "Gonna walk the plank for me?"

You roll your eyes. "Are you looking for a fight? What do you guys get out of doing this?"

He shrugs deviously. "Entertainment, darling."

"Go away," you order, "Unless you really wanna put your Captain title at risk." You turn around, pulling Bridget away from the duo.

"Confident, are you?" He laughs. "Wait and see, gorgeous," he turns around, pulling his partner along.

Maleficent hisses, watching as you and Bridget walk away.

"What's with you and that fake VK?" she asks him.

James shrugs.

"Well, hello again, darling"

"Don't you ever go away?"

"You've got a mouth for an Auradon Kid, don't you?" He chuckles. "Wait... you're not an Auradon Kid. You're a VK."

You roll your eyes. "Just cause I was conceived by a villain doesn't mean I am a villain"

He sighs. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

You turn around, seeing him still standing over you. Can't a person get five minutes alone in the library?

"What do you want?"

He shrugs. "Wanted to ask why you've joined the good side. You're always defending those girls. It's weird"

"How is having morals weird?" you ask. "Genuinley. Sit"

He glances around with furrowed brows before joining you, taking a seat beside you. He sits sideways to face you, resting his hooked hand on the table.

"What makes you think harassing people is fun?"

He shrugs. "It's funny, entertaining."

"Sadly, I can't control your actions." you speak with a light sigh, turning back to your book.

"Why do you defend them?" He asks rather swiftly.

"Because they're my friends?" you reply.

He tilts his head. "You're fascinating"

You groan. "I'm a normal, not evil person"

"And I'm not?"

"No, you're a bitch"

"Hello, love"

"Piss off"

"You should be nicer to me. After all..."

"Close your damn mouth. There is nothing going on between us"

Bridget and Ella, wide-eyed, turn to you.

You exhale through your nose, slowly closing your eyes to find yourself and to not freak out. You look at them, a kind smile on your face.

"There is nothing going on between us" you repeat.

"I'd beg to differ..." James mumbles while Morgie giggles.

You turn to the girls. "Go to class, I'll be there in a minute"

They nod, walking to the classroom just down the hall.

You cross your arms, waiting for James to speak. Morgie stands beside him before he's shoo'd away, making the conversation private.

James smiles, pulling a sandwich bag out of his coat. Inside rests three slightly crumbled cookies that he'd made just for you. He holds them out to you, a cautious and slightly concerned look on his face.

"Sorry your dad's been... y'know"

You shrug, accepting the sweet treats. "It's fine, just pisses me off. Thank you, though"

"Anytime, darling"

"You need to stop with that. Someone's gonna catch on that there is actually something going on between us"

"Eh, I'm alright with that"

"See you later, pirate boy"

"Hook you later, love"

You press a chaste kiss to his lips before running up the front steps of your house, opening the door with a small smile on your lips. You close the door behind you, watching through the window as your little love interest walks away.

You walk into the living room, saying hello to your father, backpack slung over your shoulder. "I'm home"

"How was your day?" He asks, flipping the TV to another channel.

Your ears painfully vibrate due to the sound of your father sharpening a knife in his lap. God, he couldn't pick a better time?

"Fine," you wince. "I'll be in my room. I have homework"

You quickly walk away before he can speak anymore, knowing leftover dinner was in the fridge for you to access. Having homework wasn't a lie, but you were definitely lying about doing it.

As darkness fell, and after you'd dropped multiple hours cleaning your room, you opened up your window, allowing the fresh, cool air into the stuffy warm room. You lean against the window sill, awaiting your dumb love, the breeze brushing against your face.

You knew this was wrong, all of it. You'd been having wicked dreams of leaving Auradon, hearing new, distant lands calling your name. You'd never make your father proud. He'll see his baby and scream, 'God, what have you done?' as you wave goodbye on a ship with James, dressed to explore the world.

You had dreams, he had expectations.

You imagined a wide open sea, James Hook at your side, the salty air against your face. It was a daydream, one that could be accomplished. You imagine a whole world to explore, all the things you'd never seen, you'd be able to experience. From waterfalls to exotic animals, you wanted to see it all, you wanted to see all the sunsets and cultural differences. You wanted it all.

"Hey!"

"Hi!"

You watch as Hook climbs up the tree in your front yard, then use your little zipline connected to the roof to enter your room through the window. You grab his hand, pulling him into the refreshed bedroom you called home.

He rests his hands around your waist, his signature smirky-smile upon his face. "I missed you oh-so dearly"

You scoff. "It's been like, five hours"

He pulls you closer, smashing your lips together like this was some romantic romance movie where the two main characters had to leave each other in the end. He shoves you to the bed, allowing you to sit on the mattress as he stands over you, his hook lightly tracing your jawline, his hand resting on the nape of your neck.

Your door flings open, the two of you jumping in fear, eyes glued to the room's entrance. James quickly scrambles out the window, leaving you alone to deal with your father.

"Are you kidding me, Y/n?! First you're kissing a boy outside, then you're sneaking him into my house! For the last time, you'll be marrying into royalty, not sneaking around with some pirate wannabe!" Your father shouts. "I'll be boarding up your window from now on and I'll be taking this damn door away too."

"Just because you have a soft ego and are a narcissistic piece of shit doesn't mean you can force your insecurities on to me!" You yell. "My love life has nothing to do with you at all. I'm not going to be some teenage newlywed so you can ruin a whole kingdom's worth of lives through me. I am not you and I will never be you!"

He's too stunned to speak, surprised that you've talked back, the words leaving your lips like you had them ready to use. You stare into his soul, heavily breathing, fists clenched as you stand in front of him.

You rush to the window as he leaves, slamming the door behind him, not sure how to approach the situation. You slide out the open window, holding back tears.

James quickly wraps you in a hug, allowing you to crumble in his arms.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" He whispers, holding onto you tightly.

"It's fine" You shake your head with a grumble. "Fuck"

His hand rubs your shoulder.

You sit in silence with him for a few minutes, carefully listening as your father stomps around the house.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, love. Do you need somewhere else to stay?-"

"I'm fine" You reply. "I'll be fine"

He's silent for a moment. "I don't feel comfortable leaving you here"

"He won't hurt me. He's a wimp with an ego." You shrug.

He nods. "Yeah, that's true"

You quickly look up at him, a random thought in your brain. "Have you ever seen a flamingo before? In real life?"

"I've conquered the seven seas, babe. Of course I have"

"Cool"

[ch0k3herwithaseaview]

@jegulus-microfic | feb 7 star | words: 1037

Hi so I went a bit overboard with this one but I’m having so much fun writing those you guys have no idea

Anyways enjoy <3

GUYS IT HAS PART 2 NOW WTFFF

James

pads i need you to come here like RIGHT NOW

Pads

???

Who are you?

James looked at the message confused.

James

your best friend?? who needs your help with your dog?????

Pads

Wrong number.

Now he was super confused. He talked with Sirius this morning. He called this number and he talked with Sirius.

James

this is really not the time for pranks pads

moony isnt answering his phone and gigi is vomiting all over my place

what do i do???????

The answer didn’t come right away, but when it did his confusion grew even further. He was trying to give the poor Gigi a bowl to puke into when he read ‘I might know what happened. Send me the address, I’m coming over.’ Without thinking twice he shared his location with the person who was supposed be his best mate. After that, he put down his phone and went back to calming Gigi and giving her some water. If it works for people, it should work for a dog, right? RIGHT???

15 minutes later he heard the doorbell ring and that’s when it hit him. Sirius knows where he lives. Sirius wouldn’t take this long to get to his precious child, as he calls the black mass of fur on James’ carpet. This really wasn’t Sirius.

His first reaction was panic - who the fuck did he send his address to? Then he thought he could pretend he’s not here. But what about Gigi?

When the doorbell rang for the second time, he decided to text that person.

James

who are you again?

Pads

Open the door. I’m not going to kill you.

Or am I?

Now he was scared. Although it was a bit funny, he had to give them that.

Slowly he went to the door, checking in the viewfinder who is on the other side. Unfortunately the person had their back turned to him so it didn’t give him anything. With shaky hands he turned the key and opened the doors with a gentle creak. Hearing that, the person in front of him turned and- wow.

The snow-white face was surrounded by a delicate halo of black waves. His strong jaw and sharp cheekbones could make him look rough if it weren't for his soft, pink lips, turned up in a gentle smile, and his eyes. Eyes in which you could immerse yourself as if in an endless, silvery cloud of stardust.

“Hi there, Sunshine” Sirius’ younger brother said passive-aggressively. Ah, nothing has changed since school. Also, it would explain the ‘wrong number’’ thing. Somehow?

“Hello, Little Star” James replied with a nervous smile, after clearing his throat several times. They stayed there in the doorway for few seconds, intense enough to make it feel like hours.

Finally, James cleared his throat for the last time and turned, letting Regulus in. “Thank god you’re not a murderer” he laughed lightly as he led his guest (his one-man-rescue-team?) to the living room, where Gigi was shaking under fluffy blanket.

“Did you give her something?” Regulus asked, kneeling next to the poor thing.

“What? No! Why and what would I give her?” James burst out, terrified of the accusation. What if he accidentally gave her something he shouldn’t have and now she’s going to die? That would mean he was going to die shortly after. Oh no, oh no, oh-

“Calm down, I was just making sure. Look at your carpet” Reg grumbled pointing at the destroyed thing.

“Yeah, I know - she puked at it like a thousand times. No need to point it out” James huffed, now irritated a bit by Regulus’ rudeness.

“I- That’s not what I meant” shorter man laughed softly, such a sweet sound. “She ate a pice of it, look at the right corner.”

“What do you- oh” in the whole mess oh vomits he didn’t even notice a part of the carpet disappeared. “So she was just-“

“Clearing her stomach, yeah” Reg smiled at him crookedly. “She did the same to my shoe last week. Just give her some water for now and we’ll take her to the vet.”

“What do you mean we? I can handle a vet appointment” James said, pouring some water for his goddaughter (yes, she’s his goddaughter, fuck off).

“No, you can’t. Now take her, I’ll drive” Regulus said strutting out of the room. James just lifted the, whatsoever, heavy dog and ran after his best friend’s brother.

He asked Reg to close the door behind them and take the key. The clinic wasn’t far away from his flat, but either way it felt like forever to get there since Regulus refused to talk to him, because ‘it distracts him’.

When they finally got there, the vet just laughed at them for coming to her for the second time in a week and cooed at Gigi, mumbling something about her ’cool uncles not being very good for her’ (hopefully jokingly but who knows). She checked if Gigi was alright, gave her some medicine and asked them to come in few days for checkup.

Walking out of the clinic Regulus asked James if he needed any help with cleaning up after Gigi’s accident.

“Actually yeah, would you help me?” he replied with hopeful eyes.

“I literally just suggested that” Reg said, rolling his eyes.

So, they did just that. They rolled the destroyed carpet, cleaned the floor and some of the mess left on the sofa Gigi was sleeping soundly in the corner of.

When they finished, Regulus went to the door, with James thanking him all the way down the hall. They stood in the doorway again, same intense silence between them as before.

Reg cleared his throat. “So, I’m gonna go now. Bye.”

James nodded slightly. “Thanks again” he said once more, getting a fond eye roll from the other man. With that Regulus turned and went to the elevator. Then…

“Hey, Reg?” He turned again, one brow raised. James gather himself, swallowed thickly and on the exhale, almost shy, he asked “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

The younger man stood there, both brows raised now. Slowly he smiled at James and nodded.

“I would love to, actually.”