#it might be the best thing ive ever written though?

[bombiikki]

𐙚⋆.˚　────  hit me with your best shot °｡⋆⸜

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ – libero!hanni x outside hitter!reader !!

synopsis: you have been rivals with hanni for god knows how long, and for such a simple reason as well—the both of you acknowledge the other’s skill. you both strive to beat the other in a battle of skill, resulting in five times you hit on hanni and the one time she hit on you in return.

contains:fluff, some mentions of blood like small mentions, reader flirts thru hitting hanni in the head with a volleyball, tension!!, they try extra hard to impress each other, hanni overthinks, she focuses too much on reader, she loses focus on the ball, theyre js highschool students taking everything too seriously, minji cameo!!! not rlly proofread..

a/n: i probably dont know enough abt volleyball to write this but we live on! all my expericne comes form my haikyuu phase and my friends who r obsessed with volleyball bc of haikyuu, like i took everything ik from haikyuu. wait this might actually be the longest thing ive ever written cuz wdum 5k words 😨

1. you had known hanni for almost your whole life, and both of you had a complicated relationship. she could be such a pain. yet, sometimes you dreamt of her eyes at night, and the way she lit up when winning a game. to put it simply, you both had mutually agreed to rival each other to see who came out on top.

you weren’t afraid to admit it—hanni is one good libero. in fact, she’s one of the best in the country under 18. you weren’t afraid to admit that hanni truly has skill and that’s why you were proud to be her rival. as a strong outside hitter, it brought a smile to your face every time she received one of your spikes—though it was still a little frustrating.

you opened the gym doors, already changed into your uniform, and waved to your teammates who had already arrived. your coach had already told you beforehand that your rival school would be arriving for friendly practice matches and luckily for you, it was being held at your school. all you had to do was wait for when they would arrive—when she would arrive.

you ran up towards the net, watching as your team’s setter set the ball up into the air above you. you jumped into the air, raising your arms and straightening your back, as you sharply hit the ball onto the other side of the court. the gym door opened abruptly as soon as the ball made contact with the floor. it quickly bounced off with a big boom, then it made contact with someone’s face.

you watched with wide eyes as a short figure fell back from the impact of the ball. you ran up to the fallen girl, watching as she slightly lifted her head up. you knelt by the girl’s side, resting your hand on the back of her head as you helped her sit up.

“it’s good to see your spikes have gotten sloppier,” she winced in such a familiar voice. when she turned her head to look at you, you felt your lips curl up.

“hanni! and i thought the star libero could receive any one of my spikes,” you sneered, now hovering your hand over hanni’s back. “yeah, not when it decides to bounce straight off the floor to my face,” she snickered. 

you rolled your eyes. 

“well then, i’ll be sure to hit the ball softer for you next time.” you teased as you helped hanni get up,  the rest of her team flowing through into the gym. 

“just make sure you receive it properly then, superstar,” you smirked, flicking your fingers at her head before walking away with a wink. luckily for hanni, you didn’t turn around to watch the way her cheeks began to flush a red tint.

“hit me with your best shots and i’ll be sure to receive all of them,” you heard her yell out.

2. despite it being just a friendly practice match, you could feel the tension rise on the court. everyone was hungry for blood and you could feel it in your veins.

you ran up to the net with perfect technique, bringing your arms back and up as you jumped into the air with as much force as you could. as you straightened your back, it felt like time stopped for you in the air. you analysed the opposing side of the court, looking for an opening behind the opposing middle blockers’ arms. as you watched the ball fly into your field of vision, you took your dominant arm and hit the ball straight through the middle blockers in front of you and into an empty space of the court.

you landed with both feet on the floor, moving back into position as you readied for a counterattack. the spike you hoped to land made its way back into the air, saved by a diving hanni as she looked at you with a smirk. she was one good libero.

the ball continued to fly across the court, not once touching the ground. you continued to spike with all your might, watching as hanni received all of your hits as promised. if you weren’t increasingly getting irritated, you would give her a big smooch on the cheek for being impressively good. 

you ran up to the net once more, the opposing middle blockers following your movement, but the ball didn’t come flying towards you. instead, it was set in the direction of your team’s other outside hitter. the ball flew down onto the other side of the net and made contact with the floor, hanni just missing the ball.

you watched hanni get up from the floor with a scowl on her face. you watched as she dusted her jersey before looking into your eyes and smirking.

“told you i would receive all your hits,” she snickered. “feeling scared yet, cục cưng?”

“are you trying to woo me with your vietnamese, hanni?” you snorted, slowly retreating backwards as your team began to rotate their positions.

“and don’t worry, i’m not scared yet sweetie—i’m just warming up,” you said, sticking out your tongue as you readied yourself three steps behind the service line.

you took a deep breath in as the whistle blew through the gym. you tossed the ball high into the air in front of you, stepping forward then jumping high into the air. you brought your dominant hand forward with as much force as you could, spreading your fingers and making contact with the ball with your palm. you made sure to put your best into this one shot.

with the ball making contact with your palm, you felt time slow down. you could feel the sweat dripping down from your temple, the blood pumping through your body, and the excitement you felt knowing this is what you loved doing. being able to play volleyball like that made you smile mid-air.

time began to speed up again for you, the ball suddenly flying onto the opposing court with immense power. as you began to fall from the air, you watched the other side of the court with immense concentration. you watched the ball you just hit, as it flew straight towards the center back. it made its way straight towards hanni.

time began to slow down for hanni with the ball right in front of her face. she had blinked for a second and suddenly the ball was right in front of her. when had she lost her concentration? when had she lost her focus on the ball? before she could bring her hands up to receive the ball, it made direct contact with her face.

3. you somehow found yourself stuck with different volleyball clubs in a training camp. it was an agreed collaboration between your coaches. honestly, all you heard was free food and more time to train up on volleyball.

you opened up the doors to the gym, watching as many clubs already started practicing with each other. you noticed a familiar figure on a nearby court, receiving a ball that came flying towards you. you caught the ball right before it made contact with your face before moving your hands to the side.

“sorry!” you heard hanni say, walking up to you. “oh, y/n. it’s you,” she said monotonously.

“wow, such an apologetic tone for someone who almost hit me in the face,” you sneered, watching hanni roll her eyes.

“whatever. it’s like you don’t hit me in the face every chance you get,” hanni snorted in response.

“i never purposefully aim for your face pham,” you shrugged.

“yeah, tell that to the bloody nose i had a week ago at that practice match.”

“well, i thought ms superstar told me to hit her with my best shot and that she would receive it.”

“well, ms superstar has been distracted recently. it’s not my fault you hit like a damn monster.” hanni rolled her eyes, but you swore you could see the edges of her lips curl up a bit.

“is my face that distracting that your receives have been getting sloppier? how touching,” you teased.

“yeah, you look like a damn clown that i can’t help but laugh at your face every time i see you,” she sneered, turning her back to walk away.

you threw the ball, that still sat in your hands, from your chest. it flew and hit hanni straight in the back of her head and bounced right back at you. as you caught the ball, you watched hanni slowly turn her body towards you with a big offended look on her face.

“what the hell y/n!?” she yelled, walking back towards you. you chuckled in response as you looked down at the girl.

“you forgot your ball. can’t practice without it can you?” you smirked. you handed the ball over to hanni as she began to walk away again.

“you better get your game back, hanni. it’s no fun beating you if your mind is floating around elsewhere,” you shout out to her.

hanni stopped in her tracks before turning her head to face you. she stuck her tongue out as a gesture of mockery, but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as she continued to walk away,

4. you trained your butt off as the days passed. and—perhaps—you even watched hanni—occasionally— from afar. you aren’t so sure what had gotten her distracted but it continued to bother you. you meant what you told her on the first day—it’s not fun beating her if she had her head in the clouds.

well, it didn’t matter. or atleast, it didn’t seem to matter at the moment because you were stood playing a match against her once more. she seemed to be doing well too, not once failing to receive the ball with perfect technique. it made you smile knowing she was back in her game.

it was the third set, each team with one set to their name. everyone was sweating and running around the court with nothing but victory as their goal. the ball flew across the court, the sound of the ball hitting the ground occasionally filling the ears of every player. you ran up to the net multiple times, hitting the ball multiple times. sometimes, you could hit the ball straight through the blockers’ hands and other times, you would be completely blocked off.

you were mid-air once more with the ball right in front of you. you scanned the opposing side before hitting the ball with as much power as you could. you watched the ball as it flew downwards, and you watched as hanni dived to save the ball from hitting the ground.

she got up quickly before smirking at you, and you couldn’t help but smirk back before readying yourself for a counterattack.

the set continued to drag on. you continued to spike the ball as hard as you could, as hanni continued to save every hit you made with just as much effort. she really was the perfect rival.

you made eye contact with hanni as she received another one of your spikes, a smug look plastered onto her face. maybe it was because you were playing too hard, but you felt your cheeks grow warmer. you quickly rolled your eyes and ran back, readying yourself as the ball came flying over to your side of the court again.

“free ball!” you heard one of your teammates yell out. 

you watched as the ball began to fly towards your setter, eyeing the ball closely. you ran up to the net once more—catapulting yourself into the air with your arms ready to make contact with the ball. you watched as the opposing team’s blockers began to jump up to your height as well, blocking your view of their side of the court.

as you began to fall back to the ground, you heard the ball fall to the ground. you looked over to your right and noticed that your setter had made a dump. you watched as hanni had dived to try and save the ball, but to no avail. 

she looked up at you from the ground with a scowl. you smirked at her.

“nice rally, superstar. glad to know you’re back in your game again,” you winked at her before walking back into position.

you heard the whistle ring in your ears before one of your teammates served the ball onto the other side of the court. you instinctively began to make your way to the back of the court, waiting for the ball to make its way back to your side. when it did, you began to run up to the net again. you felt the adrenaline really pump in your blood—and when you jumped, you couldn’t help but smile at the freedom of flying in the air while playing a sport you loved.

you scanned the opponent’s side of the court, finding the perfect spot to spike the ball into while avoiding the opposing middle blockers.

hanni watched as your setter set the ball right to you, and so she moved back in hopes that you would try to spike it right before the server line. she watched you smile as you began to move your arm forward and make contact with the ball. hanni couldn’t help but feel her knees buckle, watching you enjoy a sport so much with such a genuine smile on your face. sometimes she hoped she could make you smile like that.

next thing she knew, the ball had already landed onto her side of the court—bouncing off the floor with such force that it bounced right under hanni’s chin. the impact had her sent flying back, and it gave your team the set point.

hanni began to rub on her chin while still lying down, her teammates rushing to her side in worry.

“hanni, are you okay?” she heard you call out. 

you soon filled her vision, offering a hand to help her up.

“stop hitting so hard—you damned powerhouse,” hanni mumbled, reaching out for your hand.

5. it had been a few weeks since the training camp—but that didn’t stop you from seeing hanni more frequently. for some odd reason, despite you constantly hitting her in the face, you both kept in contact. 

hanni did yk we r coming over to ur school again tmr 🙄 y/n now whats up with that emoji i thought u would be happy to see my pretty lil face again 👅 hanni EWWWWW FREAKKYYYYY i would never miss ur face 🤮 y/n well u didnt have to put it like that that hurts hanni 🙁 hanni who asked y/n well i definitely missed ur face cant wait to see ur expression when i beat u again hanni that wouldve been so sweet if u didnt add that last part y/n ikr im like  the sweetest 😽 hanni just dont hit me in the face again please y/n only bc u asked so nicely!

you typed away at your phone, giggling every time you got a reply from hanni. you didn’t want to admit it to her, but you really did miss her face. you missed the way she would smirk at you when she would receive your spikes, the way she would scowl at you when you accidentally hit her in the face. you missed her eyes, and the way they would light up when she played volleyball.

you slammed your phone down onto your bed sheet, a warmth growing on your cheeks. did you—like hanni? you felt your head grow lighter at the thought. you knew the upcoming joint training might end you.

—

you opened the door to the gym, hearing chatter and balls slamming into the ground. you had noticed that hanni’s team was already here.

you heard footsteps walking towards you, and when you turned your head you watched as hanni jumped onto you. you both fell as she collided into you.

“nice to see you finally showed up, y/n,” hanni smirked, getting up from on top of you. she extended a hand to help you up. you took her hand and pulled her down as you got up, making her shriek in surprise.

“nice to see you too, hanni,” you chuckled as she smiled at you. you helped hanni get up—with no shenanigans this time.

you both made your way to the court, ready to destroy the other in a game of volleyball. as you walked up to greet your teammates, you heard a voice yell from behind you.

“hey y/n! if you hit me in the face again, i’ll return it ten fold.” you turned around to see hanni smiling, then she stuck out her tongue. you felt your heart race, watching her turn back on her heels towards her own team.

you made your way to the server line, being the first person to serve. you took in deep breaths as you walked back three steps. as you threw the ball up, you began to run up and jump in the air. as you stretched yourself back, you watched the opposing side of the court—looking for the perfect place to hit the ball into.

as your eyes darted around the opposing court, you made eye contact with hanni. she had her tongue stuck out on the side of her lips, watching you and the ball intently. you hit the ball with your dominant hand, but it was out of time. your serve was sloppier than it should’ve been, and so you cursed yourself as you landed back onto the floor.

you watched as hanni perfectly received your serve—the ball making its way to the opposing setter and spiked back into your side of the court.

you instinctively run towards the net as the ball flies towards your setter. you jump high into the air and brought your arm back. as per usual, you scan the opposing side of the court to look for an opening. though, you knew in the back of your mind that you were just searching the court for hanni. you made direct eye contact with her as the ball flew towards your hand. you hesitated for a split second before hitting the ball.

as you began to descend from the air, you watched as the ball you just hit faltered. it began to die mid air, landing straight into hanni’s face. hanni fell back along with the ball, and you watched her slowly sit up with her hand on her nose.

you walked under the net and kneeled next to hanni.

“hanni! are you okay?” you exclaimed, resting your hand on top of hers.

“i thought i told you not to hit me in the face,” hanni sighed.

you frowned before getting up and running to a cabinet on the side of the gym. you opened the metal doors and scanned the shelves, looking for a first aid kit. you looked back to see both of your coaches now surrounding hanni and checking on her condition. you quickly snatched the first aid kit before running to hanni again, pushing yourself between the coaches and reaching out a hand to hanni.

“c’mon, i’ll help you get fixed up,” you said with a small smile.

hanni took your hand as your coach glared at you. as you felt hanni’s soft hand against yours, you immediately began to sprint towards the gym doors—dragging her with you.

“don't worry, coach! i’ll be back soon!” you exclaimed before running off with hanni.

you continued to drag her towards the school bathrooms, slowing down as you got closer to your destination. hanni didn't say a word as she was being dragged.

you pulled hanni into the bathroom, placing down the first aid kit onto the sink counter. you turned your head towards hanni who had her chin lifted up a little.

“what are you doing?” you frowned.

“you literally hit me square in the nose. it’s bleeding sherlock,” hanni sneered. your eyes furrowed, opening the first aid kit and scanning for tissues.

“what type of first aid kit doesn't have tissues!?” you exclaimed in frustration. you looked back at hanni as she continued to lift her chin up high.

“i’ll be back in just a second. wait for me, please.” you ran out of the bathroom, leaving hanni with the opened first aid kit on her side.

you ran back into the bathroom not a minute later, now accompanied with a box of tissues and an ice pack.

“took you long enough,” hanni smirked.

“har har,” you said, rolling your eyes. 

you placed yourself in front of hanni, who was leaning against the sink counter. you held a tissue in one hand as your other was placed onto the counter—right next to hanni’s side. as you loomed over her, you used the tissue to try and clean up some blood which had already fallen.

“did you really have to get a tissue box? we're in a bathroom and there's loads of tissues here,” hanni whispered. you continued to slowly clean up surrounding blood, humming in response.

“i am not cleaning you up with toilet paper—that's nasty. plus, the tissues in the staff room are high quality,” you shrugged.

when you finished cleaning up the surrounding blood, you placed the used tissues onto the side. still looming over hanni, you placed your hands on her waist before propping her up to sit on the counter. hanni shrieked in response and you giggled before handing her a tissue for herself.

“you can stick this up your nose or something—whatever you think is best to stop the bleeding,” you smiled up at her.

you watched as hanni rolled her eyes, taking the tissue in your hands with reddened cheeks. she watched you pick up the ice pack you had gotten before—wrapping it up with cloth. once wrapped up, you reached up to hanni's nose bridge and gently placed the ice pack there.

you looked up into hanni's eyes as she looked down on you. she had her legs on either side of your torso, your own body pressed against the edge of the counter. you changed your focus from her eyes to the ice pack.

“and where did you get the ice pack from?” hanni whispered, your face leaning in closer as you continued to hold onto the ice pack.

“med bay,” you hummed. hanni scoffed, “so, why didn't you just take me there?”

you continued to focus on the ice pack on hanni’s nose, before staring into her eyes. your eyes softened under her gaze, her eyes filled with curiosity as your eyes were filled with something sweeter.

“i wanted to take care of you myself,” you smiled softly. “it's the least i can do considering i’m the one who just smashed a ball into your face,” you continued in a hushed tone.

you chuckled in a low tone as hanni began to blush, breaking eye contact with you as you continued to care for her nose.

“the bleeding stopped,” hanni mumbled, placing her used tissues with the ones before.

you placed the ice pack down, furrowing your brows in concentration. you brought your hand up to hanni’s cheek, feeling the softness of her skin against your hand. you felt your own cheeks begin to heat up, but now was not the time for that—you just needed to make sure hanni was okay. you moved her head with your hand, inspecting her nose’s condition. you felt hanni briefly lean into your touch, before you let go of her cheek.

“yeah, it seems to be okay now,” you said in a hushed tone.

you looked up at hanni, your faces only a breath apart. you looked into her eyes, getting lost in how big and soft they looked. your eyes briefly travelled down to her lips, before making their way back up to her eyes. 

your body continued to lean into hanni’s, and she happened to match your movement. hanni placed her arms on top of your shoulders as you placed both of your hands onto her sides. your lips brushed against hanni's before you heard footsteps coming closer.

your ears perked up before you turned your head towards the bathroom entrance—a younger girl standing there with her hands over her eyes.

“i didn’t see anything! carry on!” she fumbled, crashing into a wall before running back out.

“huh, i didn't know there were still some students roaming around,” you chuckled awkwardly.

you looked back at hanni who was avoiding your gaze. her lips were pursed as her cheeks flushed a deep red. her hands were still placed on top of your shoulders, so you took one of her hands into yours.

“um, take this for your nose. just—put it on your nose to help with possible swelling,” you whispered—placing the ice pack into her hands.

she nodded softly before doing as she was told. you removed yourself from your position in front of hanni—standing on the side to fix up the first aid kit.

you zipped up the kit before turning your head towards hanni. she got down from the counter before looking into your eyes—something hidden behind her gaze. 

“did you want to—um—go back to the gym?” you stuttered. hanni nodded softly once more.

you cleaned up the used tissues before washing your hands. you snatched the first aid kit from the counter and stood by hanni's side. you wrapped an arm around her shoulder, the two of you walking back to the gym.

+1. a week had passed since the last time you saw hanni. you still texted her—sure!—but there was this tension between the two of you that always seemed to bug you. your friends would laugh at you for feeling tension through a screen, but you felt it and so it was real to you.

it was also very real for hanni. during volleyball practices, her coach would constantly find her in her own mind—seemingly lost in space. this wasn’t good news for the team, considering hanni was the backbone.

“hey, hanni! wait up!” minji called out. she was one of hanni’s best friends and had taken up volleyball along with hanni.

hanni turned around to look at minji—two water bottles in her hand. minji threw one at hanni, which hanni fumbled in her hands before securing it tight around her fingers.

“what’s going on with you recently? did something happen?” minji questioned, furrowing her eyebrows.

“i have no clue what you’re talking about!” hanni blushed, opening her water bottle and gulping it down.

“is this about y/n?” minji teased, nudging hanni with her shoulder. hanni froze in place, her cheeks continuing to flush. she slowly turned her head to look at minji.

“i—don’t know what you’re trying to insinuate,” hanni said monotonously. she pursed her lips before opening her mouth, and then closing it once more. she looked down at her feet then let out a big sigh.

“well, you don’t have to tell me anything. but—just to let you know—we are having another joint practice with them in like 2 days,” minji shared, patting hanni on the back. “you know, some girls on the team bet both of the coaches are together—on the sidelines—and just want to see each other during practice,” she continued, chuckling before taking a sip of water.

hanni only nodded slowly.

“look, whatever you got going on with y/n—just ask her out already,” minji sighed. “again, you don’t have to tell me anything but i know something happened so just ask her out already. i’m getting a lil tired seeing you two flirt everytime we got practice with her team.”

hanni glared at minji who wore a casual face. hanni stopped for a moment, the gears in her head moving around.

“okay, so let’s say something did happen—hypothetically. and if i were to ask her out—potentially—what should i do?” hanni blurted out, watching as minji shrugged her shoulders.

“i don’t know,” minji said. “what do you mean you don’t know!?” hanni shouted.

“i don’t know means i don’t know man! just—do something that’s strictly a thing the two of you do—or something,” minji exclaimed.

hanni furrowed her brows and pouted. something the both of you did? hanni let out the biggest sigh ever before smacking her cheeks.

“you know what? it’s whatever! i don’t need to think about this anymore! i’ll just forget about it,” hanni chirped. minji just slowly nodded and shrugged her shoulders in response.

—

the day of your joint volleyball practice came quickly. yes—it was only two days but hanni expected it to feel longer.

she opened the door to your school’s gym, immediately hearing the chatter of people and the impact of volleyballs against different surfaces. she turned her head to the side to watch people practicing, before hearing someone yell out.

“heads up!”

hanni turned her head back forward, watching as a volleyball began to fly towards her. she put up her hands to receive it, before a hand came between her face and the ball.

hanni’s eyes travelled from the back of the person’s hand, up to their arm, then to their face. you looked at hanni with a soft smile before turning to yell at the person who hit the ball.

“watch where you’re hitting man!” you frowned.

you brought your hand down, throwing the volleyball back at your teammate then turning to hanni.

“hi!” you smiled brightly. hanni felt her cheeks grow warm before hiccuping a ‘hi’ back.

“your nose is still doing okay, right?” you questioned, concern laced in your voice. hanni nodded before softly smiling at you.

“yeah, it’s doing better since you smashed a ball into it,” she teased. you rolled your eyes before patting her on the shoulder.

“see you on court, superstar,” you winked before running off.

now why was everything normal between the two of you. hanni was left bamboozled. just a week ago the both of you almost kissed, and now you seem completely normal. ‘forget all about this’ her ass—hanni was not forgetting anything.

“minji, did i fumble?” hanni asked monotonously.

“potentially,” minji chuckled.

“do you have a volleyball on you right now?”

“yeah, why?” minji raised her eyebrow, wondering what antics hanni had up her sleeve this time.

“pass it over.”

minji handed hanni the volleyball, who was now marching her way over to you. you continued to walk towards your teammates before you heard a loud voice call out for you.

“y/n! wait up!”

you turned around to see hanni march towards you with a volleyball.

“oh, hey hanni! what’s u–” and before you could finish your sentence, the volleyball in hanni’s hands now met the surface of your face.

your head was pushed back a little, before you began to regain consciousness of what had just happened. as you brought your head back forward, hanni stood right in front of you with a finger against your chest.

“what was that for!?” you exclaimed. hanni furrowed her eyebrows before aggressively poking the middle of your chest.

“i’m not about to kiss you in front of a whole gym of people, but i like you and i’m not gonna pretend like we didn’t almost kiss last week,” hanni said in a hushed tone.

you looked at her with wide eyes as her words travelled through your ears. you stood there in shock before you felt your entire face begin to redden. you brought your hands to your ears as you also tried covering your face with your elbows.

“couldn’t you have told me this later?” you mumbled, blushing profusely at hanni’s sudden confession.

“and miss the chance of hitting you in the face with a volleyball while confessing my love for you? hell nah!” hanni giggled softly, watching you slowly begin to crumble.

“ms powerhouse isn’t so powerful now, is she?” hanni teased.

you took in a deep breath before uncovering your face and looking into hanni’s eyes. 

“says the one who doesn’t have the guts to kiss me in front of a whole gym,” you teased in a hushed tone.

“i like my privacy,” hanni shrugged.

you nodded and hummed in response before taking her wrist.

“hey, coach! i gotta take a bathroom break—don’t wait up!” you yelled across the gym, running out the gym doors with hanni by your side.

[museumgiftshoperaser]

the doc for my bigbang fic has reached 50k why do i do this to myself ahhhhhhhhh

[vaguely-humanoid-form]

maybe I haven't been looking at the sky

post-sonic 3 fic about stone. stobotnik too. oh yeah baby it's time for some pain.

word count is a bit under 3.6k

featuring: grief like so much grief, lots of hurt, a smidgen of comfort, second-person narration, so many goddamn timestamps, did I mention hurt, acknowledgement of shadow the hedgehog being like an actual teenager, shadow the hedgehog being kind of like a weird cat, the smallest hint of sonadow, and, of course, hurt.

have fun! >:3

p.s.: the title is from Maud Gone by Car Seat Headrest because I like that song and it fits too well

June 24, 2024, 3:26 AM

You wake up.

You don't immediately open your eyes, though, because if you stay in the darkness, you can pretend that everything is alright. You can pretend that nothing's changed.

You can pretend he's still here.

You open your eyes.

It's still dark, and you can only just barely make out the hotel room ceiling above you.

You can hear the soft pitter-patter of the London rain against the window.

You spare a glance at the clock on the bedside table.

You know you won't be able to fall asleep.

Four hours of rest is enough, anyway.

You get up.

You take a shower.

Your reflection in the mirror seems to bore holes through your skull.

You brush your teeth, and you get dressed.

You work, because you have nothing else to do.

You go to get shitty hotel coffee and breakfast.

On instinct, you grab two cups.

You decide you don't want coffee anymore.

June 24, 2024, 12:58 PM

Your lunch is tasteless, and not just because it's British.

You think you would've laughed at that only 24 hours ago.

You don't think about if he would've.

You don't have much to work on.

Your hands itch. Everything feels so still. So static.

You try not to think about it. You try to think about anything else.

You think about how cold it is for a summer day.

You think about the smell of rain on the sidewalk.

You don't look at the sky.

You count your steps to fill your mind with something, anything.

It takes you precisely 673 steps to get back to your hotel from the lunch spot.

You don't think about how odd it feels to walk so slowly.

You don't think about how lonely you are.

You don't think about the Crab sunk in the Thames.

You don't think about him.

June 24, 2024, 7:31 PM

It's been 24 hours since it happened.

You feel empty.

You feel empty and sweaty and gross despite the wind chill and you shower again.

Your reflection stares at you again. It accuses you, blames you. It says it's your fault.

In its eyes, you can almost see something like him.

You cover the mirror.

You get yourself ready for bed, and you lay there under the hotel duvet, air conditioner blasting, and you shiver, but you don't get up to change it.

The Doctor prefers it cold, so–

You stare at the ceiling. It looks blurrier than usual.

You don't fall asleep for another few hours.

June 30, 2024, 1:08 PM

Montana is certainly better than London. At least, you'd say so.

It was a good idea to keep paying the lease on the Mean Bean. It's something you know.

You can't decide whether the familiarity makes you feel better or worse.

At least G.U.N. doesn't want anything to do with you, which you are more than welcome to.

Your “house,” if it can even be called that, what with its studio apartment style, in the back of the Mean Bean feels foreign to you, but the warmth feels nice.

The café stays cold.

You say it's to save money on the heating bill.

You were always good at pretending.

July 23, 2024, 4:23 PM

It's been exactly one month.

The hedgehog visits you today.

You know you should be plotting against him. You should be planning your revenge. You should be scheming to get rid of him once and for all–

But you're just so tired.

And in the end, he didn't want what happened, either.

He smiles at you as he orders a hot chocolate, but you can see the tightness in his face.

You bring up the other hedgehog, Shadow, and he falters for a moment.

You don't smile, not really, but your face softens as you come to an understanding.

You can't talk about him, but listening to Sonic talk about Shadow helps to dull the pain for a moment.

Before he leaves, Sonic gives you a sad smile, and tells you he's sorry about the Doctor.

Your throat closes up.

You stand still as the door opens and closes.

Your hands are shaking as you close.

August 16, 2024, 1:15 PM

Ever since he visited you the first time, Sonic has come back every other day for a hot chocolate and a chat.

The kid seems to always have something to say. You suppose he's hyperactive in many ways.

He's nice to you, and a part of you hates it, but you can't get yourself to get rid of the kid. Even if he says he stops by to check on how you're doing, you know it's helpful for him, too.

Deep down, you feel guilty for commiserating with the enemy. The guilt is something you opt to push down, though, because it makes you think of him.

You're interrupted when Sonic walks through the door with his human quasi-father in tow. Tom, you think his name is.

If you're honest, he looks like shit. His arm is in a cast and he's walking with a slight limp. The bags under his eyes are nothing to scoff at, either, but he gives you a soft smile.

He only orders a water, and drinks it slowly as Sonic chatters at his side about the shop.

You know he's been worried about Tom, and you're glad to see he's alright, but a twinge of resentment bites at you.

Why couldn't have you gotten a happy ending, too?

August 27, 2024, 1:00 PM

He's back again, and he brought his friends: the fox and the echidna.

You freeze for a moment when you see the fox. The conversation you had with him plays in the back of your mind and you relentlessly shoo it away.

The echidna is still annoying, but it's funny to see him order a shot of espresso and then immediately choke when he takes one sip.

When you're not trying to fight each other, they're good kids. You appreciate the effort they're making, at the very least.

It's nice to have noise to fill up the air. Helps quiet the thoughts a little bit, especially when the shop doesn't get much traffic these days.

Chatting with the alien children gives you something to do, too, since you can't do latte art anymore.

Your hands start shaking the moment you try.

So, you listen to them talk: teasing each other, making bad jokes, ranting about this or that.

When they leave, they all say goodbye, and while the silence is still suffocating, you're finding it slightly easier to breathe.

September 10, 2024, 8:01 AM

It's his birthday today, and you can't get yourself out of bed.

You can't even properly cry. Quiet tears roll down your face and stain your pillow.

You can't get back to sleep, either. You don't know if you would even want to. You don't know if you could bear to see his face in your dreams.

You stare at the brick wall, bare of photos or posters or plans, and you can't get yourself to look away.

September 10, 2024, 1:30 PM

The door to your “house” opens and you jump from your bed.

Team Sonic broke into your house.

You would be angry. You should be angry. But you can't muster up the energy.

Sonic says something that you don't register, and Knuckles proudly holds out a messily-made cupcake in front of him.

When you get a closer look…

Oh.

It's for the Doctor.

When you look up, Sonic is giving you that same sad smile he did the first time he came to the cafe. He says he knows how you've been going through a hard time, and that since today is the Doctor’s birthday, he wanted to do something special.

It takes everything in your being to not burst out sobbing in front of the kids.

You all sit around the cupcake and sing to it.

You falter on the name. They don't seem to mind.

You can't bear to eat any of the cupcake, so you stick it in the fridge.

The second those kids are out the door, you cry so hard you can barely stand.

September 12, 2024, 1:12 PM

Tails bursts through the shop door, startling you and the single customer sitting at a table in the corner.

He starts talking, so fast you can only make out a few words.

Before you can tell him to slow down, Sonic runs in after him, smiling brighter than the sun and presenting to you…

…Shadow?

You nearly short-circuit.

How is he alive?

You ask as much, and they all shrug their shoulders, minus Shadow who stands there staring at you without expression.

Apparently, Shadow has some sort of minor amnesia. He can't remember much immediately before…

Well.

But, still, he's alive.

And that sparks something deep in your chest.

You wouldn't dare to believe anything. You know he's… gone.

But a tiny, near molecular voice in the back of your head says what if?

And you can't give into it, but the voice, small as it is, nestles itself in between your cerebrum and cerebellum.

Back to reality, the alien children have decided that Shadow will stay with you.

Their home doesn't have the room for yet another anthropomorphic hedgehog in it, apparently.

You don't seem to have a say in the matter.

You can't say you mind too much.

September 12, 2024, 4:25 PM

You take him in and set up a futon in a clear area of your house.

You give him a tour, which really isn't much considering there are only two actual rooms.

He follows you around, nodding or shaking his head slightly whenever you ask him a question. He's quiet. Shy, even.

You make a simple dinner in silence, and he mumbles a thank you when you hand him his plate.

He falls asleep while you're working, and when you get a closer look at him…

…Did he always look that young?

Minus the 50 years he spent in stasis, he couldn't have been more than 15. Maybe 16, if you're being generous.

His brows furrow in his slumber, painfully familiar, and you're suddenly reminded of the fact that he is, in a way, a Robotnik.

You draw in a sharp breath and blink away the stinging in your eyes.

Maybe you'll sleep early.

September 23, 2024, 1:08 PM

Three months.

It's been three months since it happened, and the pain has only barely dulled.

You're starting to wonder if the coping mechanism of bottling everything up as much as you possibly can isn't working as well as you thought it would.

Shadow has opened up more, at least. He's still quiet and sometimes stares at you, wide-eyed and expressionless, but you've had a good few conversations with him.

You've shown him how to operate some of the coffee machines, even if he isn't quite tall enough to reach them very well on his own.

Every day you spend with him, the more it sets in just how young he is.

For the first week or two after… what happened, you resented him for being a part of it all. But now?

You just see a scared kid.

Team Sonic has been back to the Mean Bean a few times since Shadow arrived. He's incredibly socially awkward and is not one for idle chit-chat, but you've seen a hint of a smile on his face a couple times, and that's enough for you.

His memories have been returning slowly. Despite the voice screaming at you at every waking moment, you don't want to hold out hope. You don't want to be crushed again when the inevitable reality hits you that he is really gone.

You remember when it happened, when three months ago, you watched the Doctor dedicate his last words to you.

You remember going through every stage of grief and then some all at once.

You remember thinking you were done with that process, then, after it hit you like a freight train in all of 20 seconds.

You checked into a hotel, perfectly calm. You went up the elevator, fine. You unlocked the door to your room, ok.

Then you shut the door behind you and realized you'd accidentally gotten a room with two beds.

You remember the taste of bile at the back of your throat.

You blink and you're back where you were, alien children conversing at the counter in your coffee shop. You realize you've been holding the same empty mug and towel for a while.

When you set them down, your palm is indented from the fabric.

October 12, 2024, 2:00 PM

Shadow has warmed up to everything a lot more since he arrived last month.

You've seen him shoot back straight espresso like it was water, which drove Knuckles insane, and, for whatever reason, made you glow with pride.

He's slowly started asking for things directly: meals, things to do, what have you. You finally got to make that revenge guac for you both. It was great.

You had to try to not choke on it.

He's insanely excited for Halloween. It's refreshing to see him like this. He's usually a pretty doom-and-gloom type of guy, and there's a pain within him that you resonate with. But right now, he looks so happy, asking if you can decorate the cafe for the holiday. Of course, you do.

His memory is almost fully restored, too. You're happy about it, but it also instills an intense anxiety in you.

You aren't sure which situation it is that's making you feel like this.

Maybe both.

It'll be 4 months in a little under a week.

You don't think it's stopped hurting.

When you get a moment to be alone, it all comes rushing back at you, and suddenly you feel like you did when it first happened.

But the hurting isn't that bad all the time. Not anymore.

It settles in your chest when you're distracted by something, knocking on your ribs when you're reminded of it.

It's constant, like a bruise that just won't go away.

But it's manageable.

What is less manageable, however, is the voice.

Every day that passes, the voice gets louder, crawling further into your brain and making itself known.

Hell, it's even shown up in your dreams.

As annoying as it is, though, it makes you think about your grief beyond what you had been.

Whenever you have one of the dreams, you wake up and shower, and sit in the water and think.

Mostly, your brain has focused on his absence. The fact that he's… gone.

But, then you start to wonder.

Would this have happened if you'd told him? Would he be gone if he knew how you felt?

Would that have even changed anything?

You have to stop before you spiral too far. Asking questions is dangerous.

You convince yourself that it's just the shower water running down your cheeks, even if your eyes burn.

October 23, 2024, 1:02 AM

You wake up.

You don't immediately open your eyes, though, because if you stay in the darkness, you can pretend that everything is alright. You can pretend that nothing's changed.

You can pretend he's still here.

You open your eyes.

The room is not silent. Faraway thunder rumbles in the sky and Shadow lightly snores from where he sleeps.

It's four months now, and you've suddenly forgotten how to feel numb.

Your hypothesis about emotional suppression seems to be correct.

You sit up.

You stare at your hands.

You can't breathe.

At first, you think someone is trying to kill you. That's the obvious answer.

But then you feel the tear drop down to the tip of your nose.

And then you break.

You lose all sense of time as your vision is flooded. You hiccup between sobs and you know you've always been an ugly crier.

What makes it worse is when you feel a hesitant hand on your shoulder, and look over to see Shadow looking at you with so much concern and understanding.

You don't want to cry in front of him. You're meant to be strong for him, for this kid that you've grown closer to, for this kid that you want to take care of.

But when he reaches up to hug you, all you can do is fall apart on his shoulder. And you feel so bad, because no kid should ever have to be the one to comfort an adult, but the tears keep coming and you can't make them stop.

You don't know how long you sat there, weeping on him, when it seems the well has run dry.

You try to mutter an apology to him, but he gets up and walks away. You stare at nothing in front of you and curse yourself for making this child have to support you, but he comes back with a glass of water, averting his eyes nervously.

You think back to the first week he was here.

He'd had a nightmare and woke up screaming and crying. When you'd gone to comfort him, you brought him a glass of water.

You had awkwardly stuttered about how crying can be dehydrating in a sad attempt to make him feel better, social skills be damned, and it had worked.

That was the first time he'd really smiled at you.

And now he's doing the same for you.

He says something similar about water and dehydration and you can't entirely understand what he's saying, but you smile as best you can through the tears in your eyes and take the glass with a choked thank you.

He lights up at the affirmation, and you feel a warmth bloom in your chest as you realize that you are to Shadow as Tom is to Sonic.

You gently ruffle the top of Shadow's head, the corner of your mouth quirking up. He flusters at the action and tilts his head, almost like a cat, you think, sporting a ghost of a smirk.

You tell him you're alright now and to go back to bed, and you yourself fall asleep with the knowledge that you are this weird alien hedgehog’s weird quasi-father, and you don't mind it one bit.

October 31, 2024, 5:30 PM

Turns out Tom and Maddie made a costume for Shadow. Sonic had apparently told them about something Shadow said about it after one of his trips to the Mean Bean, and they'd decided to surprise him. Needless to say, he was ecstatic. Others may not have registered the level of happiness he was at, but you know Shadow.

You know your boy.

Sonic, Knuckles, and Tails somehow convinced Shadow to go trick-or-treating with them. You encouraged him, too. He seemed a bit nervous, and even sort of embarrassed, but he ultimately agreed, smiling as he waved goodbye to you.

This was the first time in a while that you've been really alone. The pain starts to catch up to you and for a moment, you feel incredibly empty. Your throat begins to tighten.

You take a deep breath as the grief curls up once more, resting for the moment. It makes you cold.

You make yourself a simple latte and draw a little jack-o'-lantern on the top. Your hands still shake, but it's not too much to deal with.

You doubt anyone else will come into the shop. You already planned to close early for Halloween, and the sign at the front tells as much to any prospective customers.

You turn to begin dealing with the back counter, cleaning the machines and putting things back to where they belong. You've grown fond of the routine.

Then you hear the door open, and turn around to see Shadow running into the shop. His eyes are bright, brighter than you've ever seen them.

He tells you that he remembers everything now. He says, excited—God, it makes you happy to see him excited—that his memory is back and he can tell you what happened to–

The door opens again.

You look up.

He's there.

He's alive.

You stand there for a moment, completely still, completely silent.

You almost scream.

You leap over the counter, running and tackling him in the tightest hug you've ever given anyone.

He smells horrible. Like smoke and sulfur and dirt and grime and he's alive and he's holding onto you just as strong as you are and the voice is cheering and exploding into fireworks in your brain and the pain squeezes your heart in its hands and he's alive.

You don't even notice when the tears begin to fall. You only notice his pulse, alive, his breath, alive, his arms around you, alive, alive, alive.

When you finally pull back after what feels like both an eternity and a millisecond, you get a look at his face, and you put it in your hands and holy shit he is alive.

He looks absolutely disheveled and it's possibly the most beautiful thing you've ever seen, and then he smiles, wide, genuine, warm, so rare, so real, and then he leans forward and kisses you and you can't think anymore.

He tastes awful and you've never loved him more than you do now.

[lipstickontheglass1985]

in other words im abt midway through the witcher saga rn which means ill be able to participate in pointless internet discussions abt its content soon #yippee

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

A TRAGEDY THAT'S BUILT ON DESTINY!

I WOULD CHANGE MOST EVERY SINGLE THING. I WOULD LET YOU KISS ME, KILL ME!

synopsis// multiple different universes, but one thing remains the same: geto loves you in each and every one of them.

pairing// suguru geto x gn!reader

word count// 5.8k

contents// different universes, angst, satisfying angst?, hurt/no comfort but also hurt/comfort at the same time, ooc geto?, character death tehe

notes// inspired by everything everywhere all at once and the song kiss me kill me by mest :3 i wrote this SOOOO long ago but u have no idea how much i adore this oneshot. like i think it might be my fav oneshot ive ever written. it is everything to me!! and i did not do the idea justice but u get the point!!

December 24th 

You assume the fight is over because neither you nor Shoko have gotten any more wounded victims. The two of you glance at each other briefly but don’t bother saying anything. What could be said about a full-blown borderline war schemed by your high school best friend and lover? Nothing could possibly be said, so nothing is. The two of you stand there waiting for anything to happen, whether that’s getting called back to Jujutsu High or being brought another victim, and eventually something does happen, and Shoko gets a call. You can’t read her expression for the whole 20 seconds she’s on the phone before she passes it to you. You furrow your eyebrows in question.

“It’s Gojo,” she says blankly before attempting to hand you the phone again.

You hesitate to answer. “Hello?”

“You should get down here,” he says blankly over the phone.

“What? Why? Is everything okay?”

“Um, yeah, just—you know those back alleys by the school?”

“Uh huh?”

“Meet me there.”

“Gojo, you’re kinda scaring me-“

“Y/N, just come; you’ll thank me—I hope.”

You frown and begrudgingly agree, “Okay, fine, yeah, whatever, I'm on my way.”

“Make it quick, alright? I'm serious,” he adds quickly before hanging up.

As you give Shoko her phone back, you roll your eyes at the fact that he didn't even give you a chance to say okay before hanging up.

“What was that about?” she wonders, slipping her phone back into her pocket.

You sigh. “No idea, but he wants me to go meet up with him for some reason.”

Shoko hums curiously. “You should get going then; must be urgent.”

You nod, “Yeah.”

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

It doesn't take you long to get to the school given how fast you were walking since Gojo told you to hurry it up, the tense anticipation aiding in your speed. It does, however, take you a few moments to find Gojo, but once you do, you find that he's not looking at you, but he’s speaking, and it's not to you either; it's to something—or rather someone—he's blocking with his body.

“Gojo?” you ask once you finally reach him.

Gojo turns to face you, a sorrowful smile on his face, before stepping out of the way to reveal who he was speaking to and the whole reason why he called you here in the first place.

When you see Getou on the ground, your heart sinks into your stomach, and your blood runs cold. You look back at Gojo, who merely shrugs.

“You should say your goodbyes; I already did,” Gojo whispers before leaving you and Getou alone.

Getou lets out a hushed laugh. “That’s a little melodramatic of him, don’t you think?”

The hammering of your heart roaring in your ears makes it difficult to hear what he says. You stand there frozen in what you can only describe as horror as you stare down at Getou, who's missing an arm and is only growing more pale by the second from blood loss.

“Do you plan on ignoring me?” he asks softly, as though he’d understand if that really was your plan.

You blink a few times and shake your head, your tears blurring your vision. “I dont-“ 

Getou hums appreciatively and smiles up at you, which makes you completely break down, a sob racking through your body so violently that the only thing you can do is collapse to your knees. Getou winces as he tries to sit up straighter, as if he’s going to catch you or crawl over to you. You sniffle, your sobbing uncontrollable, as you crawl to him, and once there, you let your head fall upon his blood-stained chest. Getou immediately places his only remaining hand on the back of your head, as if holding it to his chest, and gently pats your head.

“Are you an idiot?” you snap.

“Might be.” 

You sob even harder into his chest. “Why would you do this?”

Your question makes his heart race. “I wanted something better for Jujutsu society.”

You shake your head at him disapprovingly. “Why’d you have to go about it this way?”

“I don’t know Y/N," he sighs. "Does it make a difference?”

You scoff, raising your head to glare at him. “Of course it does, you idiot! You left! and had a hit placed on you! Why couldn’t you have just stayed?” You sob, letting your head fall back onto his chest. “Why couldn’t you have wanted me as much as you wanted this? Why couldn’t... Why couldn’t you have wanted me as much as I wanted you?”

“Y/N,” he coos regretfully, as if he doesn’t know what to say, which he doesn’t. He did want you, and he’d even go as far as saying he wanted a better jujutsu society for you so you wouldn’t have to live your days slaving away for the non-sorcerers. “Y/N, look at me.”

You shake your head and screw your eyes shut, not wanting to look at him. You don’t want to see your first and only love withering away right in front of you.

“Y/N, please look at me.”

“I-I can't."

“Y/N, open your eyes.”

The demandingness dripping from his voice has your head shooting up to look at him and your eyes opening wide, but as you open them, you’re not met with an actively dying Getou; you're met with a sunny and flower-filled meadow? You move to wipe your tears, but your face is dry. You blink a few times, trying to take in your new surroundings, given that a moment ago you were just in a dark alley and now you're sitting on a blanket in a field under a glowing sun.

“Y/N?” Someone speaks from beside you.

Your attention is drawn to the person. “Getou?” 

He smiles at you.

“Getou, where are we?” you ask, now starting to slightly panic.

He looks at you in confusion. “We’re on our date?”

Your chest heaves up and down, and you're more confused than ever. “Huh? But- We-“ 

“We what?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.

“We were just behind Jujutsu High; you were missing your arm, and-"

Getou scoots in closer to you and cradles your face in his hands. The feeling of a warm, full-of-life Getou touching you brings tears to your eyes all over again.

“Woah, woah, love, calm down. What are you talking about? Jujutsu High? Me missing an arm?”

“You don’t remember?” You croak out, distraught, and slightly convinced that you’re going crazy.

“Remember what, love?” he asks softly.

You stare at him in disbelief. “The fight—you wanted a better jujutsu society, and you tried? You lost your arm! You were dying; I saw you! I was there with you! You were covered in blood and-“ 

Getou gently wipes your tears away. “Love, that didn’t happen. I’m here, yeah? and I have both my arms, and there was no fight for Jujutsu society? Whatever that means..."

You blink at him, dumbfounded. “What?” 

“It was probably just a bad dream, Y/N.” He smiles at you reassuringly.

“You don’t know about jujutsu society?”

“Am I supposed to?”

You stare at him in awe. What’s happening? How could he not know about jujutsu society when it was the very thing he was fighting for? But then again, how could he not be missing an arm? And how could the two of you not be in a dark alleyway right now? How could any of this be happening? Maybe he’s right; maybe it really was a bad dream. A very vivid, detailed, lucid, and lifelike bad dream.

“I guess not,” you respond with a frown.

Getou wipes away your last few tears and smiles at you. “You’re okay; I’m okay. We’re okay. It was just a bad dream, love.”

“Yeah,” you say haltingly, "yeah, I guess it was..."

“Are you okay now?”

You nod as you take one of his hands off your face and into your own. “Yeah, I think so... Um, where are we, Getou?”

“On our weekly date?” He answers curiously as he removes his other hand from your face.

You look around at your surroundings curiously. “In the middle of a forest?”

“This is your favorite place, Y/N,” he says, quizically.

As you take another glance around, you hum, not necessarily agreeing or disagreeing. “I can see why; it’s beautiful here.”

He raises his free hand and grips your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Y/N, are you okay? How come you don't remember?”

You look into his eyes, and something doesn't feel right—as if you're not meant to be here—but you digress and shrug anyway. “I don't know...”

He frowns briefly before leaning in and giving you a quick peck on the lips, and you practically melt, having not felt his lips on yours for far too long.

“That's alright. We can still make the most of the rest of our day, right?”

You nod, and he smiles at your response, letting go of your face and hand to open his arms to you, inviting you into his embrace. You return the smile before laying yourself in his arms, trying to ignore the rising feeling that something is wrong, but you can't because the minute your head touches his chest, you're thrown into a moment, a memory, a dream? where you're back in the alley with your head on a bleeding-out Getou, and it's just for a split second, a flash in time, but it's enough to make you go stiff and your breath hitch.

Getou rubs his hand down your back soothingly. “Hey, what's wrong?”

You swallow harshly and try to concentrate on the green scenery in front of you rather than whatever you keep seeing. “Nothing, I'm fine. It's fine.”

Getou places his head on top of yours. “Are you sure?”

You nod. “I am.”

He hums disapprovingly but doesn't press the issue any further; instead, he just runs his hand up and down your spine in an attempt to calm you down, which works as you begin to relax into his embrace and regain control of your breathing.

“What do we usually do here?” you ask, breaking the silence.

He shrugs. “Usually just talk about our days, our future plans, and stuff like that.”

You hum. “Is it nice?”

“Very nice; I like spending our days together.”

“I do too,” you correct yourself, “or I'm sure I did too.”

Getou doesn't say anything; instead, he lays himself down and, since he's holding you, takes you with him. You sigh contentedly and let your eyes flutter close, the sun and his hold keeping you warm. Suddenly, even with your eyes closed, you can tell it's getting brighter outside, and you groan. You’re about to ask what's up with the sun when a shooting pain in your head causes you to wince. Your heartbeat rings in your ears, and you can feel your hands grow clammy.

You feel unstable, as if you're no longer on the ground being held, as if you're floating through time and space, and the uncertainty forces your eyes open, but you're not met with anything—no, that's not right, you're met with everything, glimpses of time that you can barely make out. One moment you see Getou at an alter, and then you see you and Getou nodding to each other in determination, and the next glimpse is of you, Getou, Gojo, and Shoko laughing about something before you’re hit with another shooting pain in your head. Screwing your eyes shut, you hiss in pain, and all too suddenly, you're back on stable ground, no longer floating, and the brightness you could see through closed eyes a moment ago is gone.

You still hesitate to open your eyes, unsure of what you'll see, but when you can just barely make out that you're not where you were before, your eyes shoot open. You're now standing in the doorway of what appears to be the room of two teen girls, and Getou is sitting at a vanity staring at you; his hair and make-up are done, and he's frowning. Despite your confusion about where you are, you can't help but burst out into a fit of laughter.

He sighs and rolls his eyes. “Oh haha, yeah, keep laughing.”

You slap your hand over your mouth in an attempt to stifle your laughter. “What happened?”

He crosses his arms over his chest and looks away, mumbling, “Our daughters thought I would make a very good model, apparently.”

You go to laugh again, but it hits you, and you look at him like he's crazy. “Sorry, daughters?”

He returns the look. “Yes? Our kids?”

You look away, muttering to yourself, “We have kids...”

You didn't mean for him to hear it, but he does anyway and instantly stands up and makes his way toward you. He grabs your shoulders, drawing your attention to him, and when you look at him, he's staring back at you in concern.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

You want to take him seriously, but truthfully, you can't when he’s wearing bright pink lipstick and bright pink eyeshadow. He does look cute, though. You try to bite back a smile.

“I'm sorry, but I can't take you seriously when you look like that.”

Getou sighs. “I know I look amazing. Can you try to ignore my beauty for like five seconds and tell me why you’re acting like you don't remember our kids?”

You frown. What are you supposed to tell him? That you're apparently having nightmares upon nightmares about different lives with him? And now you're not sure what's real and what's not? You can't say that, so instead you shrug and merely mutter, “You do look amazing like that, though.”

His head drops to the side at the same moment that his smile fades. “Y/N.”

“I don't know.”

“You don't know?”

“Some really weird shit is going on, Getou,” you breathe out heavily.

He doesn’t say anything, instead grabbing your hand and leading you to one of your apparent kids' beds, where he sits you down.

“What’s going on?”

“I don't know, and you wouldn't know either so,” you explain vaguely in frustration.

He gives your hand a squeeze. “Maybe I would?”

You shake your head. “I don’t wanna waste time on that; I don't know how long I have here.”

“What?” he asks blankly. “What do you mean you ‘don't know how long you have here’?”

“Getou,” you whine, not wanting to think or talk about it because you wouldn't even know where to start; all you want is to learn about this new nightmare and what it holds.

He relents. “Okay, I won't ask.”

You smile at him and let a moment of silence pass before asking, “What are they like?”

“Huh?”

“Our kids—daughters.”

Getou hums. “They’re great; we raised them well.”

“They are especially great at making you a model, huh?” you snicker. 

He laughs and rolls his eyes. “Oh whatever, you're just jealous they never make you model.”

You shrug. “What are their names?”

“Well, we were gonna keep the names they had when we adopted them, but they ended up not having any names at all, so we settled on Nanako and Mimiko.”

You stare at him in awe. “Did you pick the names out?”

“We both did,” he recalls fondly and vividly, as if it were just yesterday that the two of you were picking out names.

“And we are...?”

He kisses your cheek before answering, “Married—we’re married.”

You hum and raise your left hand, your gaze fixed on your ring finger. “I don't see a ring?”

He hums curiously. “You were wearing it this morning? Maybe you dropped it somewhere?”

You nod. “Yeah.. Maybe..”

Getou doesn’t say anything; he doesn’t know what to say. What could he? His partner of multiple years suddenly has some form of amnesia and can't remember that they have kids, let alone that they’re married to him. You turn to face Getou. He looks like Getou—like the Getou you know, who apparently was merely a nightmare. Besides all the makeup and stuff, he looks like Getou. He says he’s Getou, but something just feels off.

“Are you real?”

He nods. “Very real.”

You look around the room, taking in the messy vanities, the messy beds, and the drawers stuffed with clothes. “Are our kids real?”

“Extremely real.”

You study his face for any hint of uncertainty, and when you find none, you ask, “Am I real?”

He narrows his eyes at you and hums curiously. letting go of your hand only to bring both hands up to your face and start smooshing your face together, pushing and pulling at the flesh on your cheeks.

“Getou,” you mumble.

He hums approvingly and nods, letting his hands fall back to his sides. “Yep, you’re real.”

You smile at his idiotic antics but appreciate them nonetheless. And although you can touch him and feel him, and he is real, as are you and your kids, it still doesn't seem real. And then, all too suddenly, your head starts throbbing again.

“Fuck no, not again,“ you panic.

“Y/N? whats wrong-“

You can't hear what he’s saying anymore; it's like you've gone underwater and he's speaking to you from the surface. Another shooting pain in your head has your eyes screwing shut, and you know you're fucked when all you can hear is your heartbeat ringing in your ears and feel your hands grow clammy all over again. You’re back to feeling unstable, drifting between time and space once more, and just like last time, the uncertainty of the feeling forces your eyes open, and you're faced with everything again—more glimpses in time that you can barely make out.

One moment you think you see yourself back at the beginning on Getou’s cold chest, and then you see yourself and Getou covered in blood, and you're not sure if it's yours or someone else's, and the next glimpse you see is of Getou on your cold chest, like your roles had been reversed, before you’re hit with another shooting pain in your head. Screwing your eyes shut, you wince in pain, and finally you're back on solid ground again, no longer floating, and the brightness you could see through closed eyes a moment ago is gone. This time you don't hesitate to open your eyes, and you find yourself in a cemetery.

You look around curiously, trying to assess your surroundings while simultaneously trying to recover from whatever just happened. But you're starting to realize something now. All of this is real. You laying on Getou’s chest was real; having a picnic with a perfectly fine Getou in a world where curses apparently don't exist was real; having kids and marrying Getou was real; and all of those little bits of time in between each new life were real. All of it was real—is real; all of it happened—is happening; it just didn't happen to you specifically. Not this version of you, at least. You’ve realized that you’re experiencing different universes and living alternate lives of your own. You didn’t think alternate universes existed, but it's not too hard to accept when the world you live in—the world you belong to—is riddled with curses and sorcerers. You are not above believing in alternate dimensions.

Finally over your sudden epiphany, you're able to realize that you weren't immediately met with Getou like you had been the past two times you got transported into another dimension. As you put the pieces together, a grave feeling washes over you—no Getou, and you’re in a cemetery. You swallow harshly.

No, no, no.

You start running around the cemetery, inspecting each and every headstone, and praying to the universe(s) that you aren't about to find one that reads his name.

No, no, no.

You keep running, the cemetery seemingly interminable, until you run up behind someone who looks suspiciously a lot like Getou, and when you hear him murmur under his breath, you sigh heavily in relief that it is him, but why is he here? You tilt your head and try to look around him to read the gravestone.

“What the fuck?” you exclaim, stunned.

Getou spins around faster than you can even blink, and he almost chokes on his spit. “Y/N?” His chest heaves up and down as he shifts his gaze between you and the gravestone. “But-but-how-you’re-“

“Dead apparently,” you say, finishing his sentence as you stare at the gravestone that reads, "HERE LIES L/N Y/N."

He stares at you, completely bewildered, and you can see him trembling. “How—how are you here?”

Will something bad happen if you tell him this isn't your universe and there are actually multiple universes out there? Who knows, but you’re about to find out.

“I'm not, well, I'm not supposed to be.”

He shakes his head and closes his eyes. “I'm just hallucinating; you’re not real.”

His reply breaks your heart. “I am real.”

“You’re not.”

You step forward, taking his hand in yours. “I am.”

He finally opens his eyes back up, and he stares at you through tears, completely amazed that you're here, that you're actually touching him, and that you're actually alive and real.

“I don't—I dont understand—you're dead!” He stammers, yanking his hand from yours, and as he breaks out into full-on sobs at this point, he’s reminding you an awful lot of yourself in your own world.

You nod slowly. “In this universe, it seems so... how?”

“What?” he stutters. “This universe?”

You ignore his question. “How did I die, Getou?”

He shakes his head sternly. “No, I'm not saying anything until you explain what you meant. What if you’re a curse? What if I cursed you, holy fuck? Fuck!”

“Okay, curses still exist in this universe; good to know,” you acknowledge with a nod.

Getou snaps, “What are you talking about!?”

You flinch, which only makes him sob harder.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap—I'm just so fucking confused; you're supposed to be dead,” he bawls as he falls to his knees.

You take another step closer and kneel down, drawing him into your embrace and letting him sob into your chest for as long as he needs, ignoring the horrible feeling of deja vu crawling all over you like worms.

“Shh, you're okay,” you whisper, soothingly brushing your fingers through his hair.

He finally starts to calm down after a few more minutes of whispering sweet nothings to him, and once he’s no longer sobbing, he pulls away.

“Answer my question, and I'll answer yours,” he says through sniffles.

You nod. 

“What were you talking about, universes? How are you here, Y/N? You’re dead—or you’re supposed to be...”

“Do you believe in alternate or multiple universes?”

He shrugs and wipes away any remaining tears. “I don't know; I never really thought about it.”

You hum and nod. “Right, so, uh, they exist! There are a lot of universes out there, actually." You let out an uneasy laugh.

He stares at you curiously.

“Obviously, I'm not from this universe.”

He continues staring at you.

“Oh, cmon, curses exist, but you draw the line at alternate dimensions?”

Getou frowns and says, “I guess you’re right... So you’re from a ‘different dimension’?”

You point a finger at him, narrowing your eyes. “Don't air-quote me like you don't believe me; how else would I be here right now if I were supposedly dead?”

“I don't know; that's what I'm trying to figure out!” he exclaims, gesticulating wildly.

“Can you just humor me and hear me out?”

He takes a deep breath before ultimately agreeing, “Okay, fine.”

You clasp your hands together. “Okay, um, in my universe, you’re dead.”

“What?!”

You shake your hands and your head. “Ok, no wait! You’re not dead yet, but, uh, you were like on the verge of death when I got put into another universe.”

He looks at you in disbelief. “And you just left me?!”

“It wasn't on purpose! Why would I want to leave you when you’re dying? I don't know how I ended up here! or in the last two other universes!”

He stops you and asks, "Okay, okay, wait—how am I dying?”

You look away awkwardly. “You wanted to change jujutsu society in… a not-so-friendly way... And, um, you were willing to die for your cause.”

“I'm dying the same way you did?”

You return your attention to him. “What?”

Getou nods. “Yeah.”

You shake your head. “What do you mean you're dying the same way I did?”

“In this universe, you’re the one who wanted to change jujutsu society in a... not-so-friendly way,” he explains sheepishly.

“Holy shit,” you mutter to yourself.

He nods again. “So, in yours, our roles are reversed.”

“And I'm dead already? I didn't even last as long as you?”

“Well, yeah, I guess," he shrugs, "but it worked; there hasn't been a curse, at least not a special-grade one, since you died." His eyes gleam as he looks up at you. “Did I succeed?”

You bite the inside of your cheek anxiously and shake your head.

“I'm dying for nothing, then?”

You look away and mumble, “My Getou is okay with it; he knew he might fail—he knew Gojo was the only one who could probably change anything—but he still wanted to try.”

“Okay, well, this—” he gestures to himself, “Getou isn't okay with it.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, well, you’re also still alive, so it doesn't really affect you that much, now does it?”

“Still! You just told me one version of myself is dead—or dying—and I'm supposed to be chill with that?”

You stare at him blankly. “Your version of me is dead.”

Getou grows quiet, and you can almost physically see how his demeanor wilts away.

“Sorry.”

“It's fine,” he says, shaking his head. “You said you were in two other universes before this one, right?”

You nod. 

“What were they like?”

You smile as you think back on the previous universes: “We were both alive and happy, and we were together in them.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah... and curses didn't exist either.”

“Huh,” he says ambivalently, like he's not sure whether to be happy for his other selves or be bitter that that isn't him. “Tell me more?”

“In the first one, we were actually on a date in some forest that I apparently loved.”

He stares at you wide-eyed, completely engrossed in your retellings.

“In the second one, we were married.”

A smile tugs at his lips. “Really?”

You nod. “We even adopted two daughters.”

“What were they like?” he wonders, enamored by some alternate universe of you two.

“I'm not sure; I didn't get to meet them,” you confess meekly. “But I know their names were Nanako and Mimiko, and they loved doing your hair and makeup. You adored them, and I'm sure I adored them too.”

He nods wistfully. “In your universe, were... were we together?”

“For a bit.” You look away sadly. “We broke up when you, uh, went off and wanted to-“

“Change jujutsu society,” he chimes in.

“Yeah... How'd you-“

“Same thing here, just roles reversed, remember?” He laughs sadly.

You nod. “Did you still love me? even after I'd gone off and did what I did?”

“I did. I do,” he quickly corrects himself. “Did you?”

“I still do.”

The two of you sit looking away from each other in glum silence. It's hard to stay upbeat about your happy alternate selves when your actual selves are currently dying or dead.

“Kinda feels like we got the short end of the stick, don't you think?” Getou mumbles softly.

“Huh?”

“Well, I mean, there are no curses in those universes, and we’re both alive and happy, but in ours we’re dead?” he elaborates.  

You nod reluctantly. “Well yeah, but I don't know; I guess it's kinda nice to know that it worked out in at least one universe.”

“Don't you wish it worked out in ours?”

“Of course I do, Getou; what kind of question is that?" you scoff. "You think I want to go back to my universe just to watch you die?”

“Well,” Getou pauses, turning to face you, “what if you don't go back?”

Your gaze zeroes in on his. “What?”

“What if you stay?…”

You abruptly stand up and chuckle uncomfortably. “Getou-“ your sentence is cut short by an echo of your name that only you seem to hear because you're the only one gazing in the general direction it seemed like it came from.

Getou joins you on your feet and follows your stare, but when he realizes you aren't staring at anything, he returns his sight to you.

“Think about it.”

His voice snaps you out of your trance, and you look back at him with a small frown.

“I'm practically dead in your universe, and you're dead in mine, but we’re together right now!" he says, taking your hand in his. "Maybe the universe put you into mine for a reason— so we don't have to go back to one where we’re not together…”

You struggle to swallow; your mouth suddenly goes dry as Getou stares at you in full, unadulterated hope, and you can't bring yourself to say anything to crush that.

“Y/N, wouldn't that be nice?”

You nod and murmur, “It would.”

“Then?” he asks expectantly.

Someone calling out your name echoes in your head again, and you quickly look down the street to now see a small, bright light in the distance, and you know your time here is soon coming to an end.

“I... I can't stay, Getou.”

His voice cracks as he panickedly asks, “Why?”

"Because,” you explain with a shake of your head, “I'm not your Y/N, and you're not my Getou.”

“I could be,” he says confidently, or he would have if it weren't for the way his voice trembled.

Your vision goes blurry from the tears welling up in your eyes as you shake your head.

“We could try!”

You sniffle and reiterate, “I can't stay.”

“Please,” he begs through his sobs. “Please, we can make it work.”

You look away from him, trying to fight back your tears, but it's futile; you’re a complete mess, just like he is now. “No.”

His hands shake as he grips your face and forces you to look at him. “Y/N, please, I'm begging you.”

“I cant.”

“Don't leave me again.”

The same voice calling out your name echoes in your head again, this time louder, and the bright light is getting bigger and closer.

“I don't want to go back to a universe where you’re just gonna leave me either, but,” you sob, weakly clinging onto the wrists of his hands that are still on your face.

“So stay.”

You shake your head and take his hands off your face. “I won't.”

Getou’s head goes limp and drops as sobs shake his entire body, and you can't help but think that's exactly how you'll look when you return to your universe and have to deal with the death of your Getou.

“Please,” he pleads.

You're both in tears as you lift his head up by his chin to look at you. The voice calling your name echoes even louder, and the bright light is getting closer by the second.

“You’re not my Getou, and I'm not your Y/N.”

He nods reluctantly. “I know, but...“

The bright light is only a few feet away at this point, and the voice echoing in your head is so loud that it's giving you a migraine—you know this is your last few minutes, if that, in this universe, so you lean in and take Getou’s lips into yours—a goodbye kiss for a Getou who you'll never see again, a goodbye kiss for a Getou who desperately needs one when he never got one from his y/n. You pull away and cradle his cheek gently.

“I have to go say goodbye to my Getou now; I think he’s waiting for me.”

He nods. “If he’s anything like me, he’ll want a goodbye kiss too.”

A faint smile tugs at your lips. “I know.”

Getou doesn't get the chance to respond when you're suddenly gone—completely vanished right before his eyes.

You, on the other hand, are back again, feeling unstable as you float through time and space, and again, the uncertainity of the feeling forces your eyes open, but this time you're met with only one thing—the image of you on your Getou’s chest. With every passing second, it grows closer, as does his voice calling out for you, and before you know it, you're back in your body, looking up at him with a gasp.

“Y/N?” he asks weakly.

You're still in tears from the previous universe as you now pull him into your embrace.

He winces, and you quickly let go of him. “Sorry.”

He smiles at you with blood in his mouth and teeth. “It's okay.”

You have to force yourself to look away to try and choke back a sob, but Getou notices immediately and slowly lifts up his remaining hand to cradle your cheek.

“It’s okay, Y/N.”

You nod. “I know.”

“You’ll be okay.”

“I know,” you croak out.

“Kiss me?” He asks out of breath, knowing he doesn't have much longer.

You don't hesitate to lean in and kiss him, ignoring how it tastes like blood and tears as well as how cold his lips feel. You ignore it because he's kissing you back. He’s kissing you with all the power his frail body can muster, and it makes up for all the years, months, weeks, days, minutes, and seconds that your lips haven’t touched. But just as quickly as he kisses you, he stops, but it's gradual; he gradually stops kissing, moving, and breathing. It doesn't take long for it to get to that point, and even when he's not kissing back, you still kiss him with some fairy-tale hope that it will bring him back, that your kiss will somehow save him, like he's Snow White and you're Prince Charming. But it doesn't.

It doesnt.

You pull away to look at Getou, whose eyes are glazed over but not closed. You sob as you reach up to close his eyes, only to let your head fall against his chest. He’s so cold. Too cold. That's why you have to stay there on top of him to keep him warm. You'll stay there all night if you have to. But you don't even get the chance to stay there for longer than a few minutes when someone suddenly pulls you off of him, and you look over your shoulder to see Gojo, who's crying as well.

“He’s gone, Y/N.”

"I know," you sniffle, “I know.”

Gojo helps you up to your feet, his hand on your waist to keep you steady as he leads you away from Getou’s body. The further you get from it, the harder you cry.

But it's okay. It’ll be okay because, even though you lost Getou in this universe, you’ll eventually be able to come to peace with it knowing that in a hundred, a thousand, and even a million other universes, you and Getou are living happily ever after.

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD

[raitonsfw]

Hello thank you so much you are the first person to answer my request and I just lovedddddd it .

Another request with gojo where they are married for like 2 months and things are kind of stiff cause it is arranged marriage but then one day he sees that a group are guys ate harassing his wife everyday as she takes the train . He asked her why she did not tell him about it and all and she says cause she thought he might even listen and stuff and things get spicy and it's his wife's first ever relationship.

I know this is big if you don't like it ignore it .

Thank you

𝚠𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚍 | 𝚐𝚘𝚓𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚞

synopsis: Gojo wasn’t the best husband and you weren’t the best wife, the discomfort of the arranged marriage taking a toll on the both of you. Two months in and he hasn’t even held your hand, let alone made a move on you– something you so desperately craved. It wasn’t until he saw two men shove you against the wall on the train that his natural husband instincts kicked in, the men dangling by their collars over the speeding blurry tracks. All he wanted to do now was protect you, shield you from the cruel world with a blindfold of your own, and maybe dry your tears with the comfort of his dick.

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, fem!reader, virgin!reader, wife!reader, husband!gojo, arranged marriage, clan mentions, cursing (a lot of it oops), angst, yearning, emotions (a lot of emotions), crying, hurt/comfort, insecurity (marriage wise), gojo basically ignores reader for the first two months (not for reasons you think though), quiet arguments, first time, cunnilingus, blowjob, cum swallowing, fingering, p in v intercourse, dirty talk, he’s rough in the beginning cuz he’s selfish, creampie, aftercare, slight mention of future children (just a sentence or two), petnames (sweetheart, honey, baby).

trigger warnings: harassment; reader is cornered constantly by two men on a train. some instances of harassment include yanking the readers arm to get their attention, reader getting burned by a cigarette after trying to fight back, & reader being pushed up against the wall with ill intent.

a/n: imagine him in (this) cuz holy shit, i love this outfit on him. i got extremely carried away IM SO SORRY. haha also gojo says something incredibly corny during sexy time and i was going to change it but it made me laugh too hard just imagining him saying it so i kept it. i don’t think ive ever written this much in one sitting in my entire life. wc: 8k. m.list

divider credit: @benkeibear

Two months. 

Two months you’ve endured this situation, your body basically as stiff as a board as you shared a bed with one of the most respected clan members in Tokyo. Ever since you said yes to that question, that damned question you thought you never would’ve heard in this standing– ‘Do you take Gojo Satoru to be your lawfully wedded husband?’ Your whole world fell apart. After all, it was an arranged marriage and you did not know this man in the slightest. All you knew was his power, told to you by your clan specifically and what he had accomplished over the span of twenty-something years. 

It wasn’t meant to be like this, the distance that scraped the surface of your marriage. Gojo should’ve warmed up to you by now, as well as vice versa, but there was still a wall built between the two of you. 

You didn’t really know the aspects of a relationship either as you’ve never been allowed to date due to the conditions of your clan; that you were to marry someone from the Gojo clan when you turned twenty-one. Unfortunately, you didn’t have many options as Satoru had been the last one standing by the grace of his inherited traits. 

Because of your ignorance, you couldn’t quite gauge if this type of distance was a normality within marriage. Were you to just stick by him through thick and thin when he hasn’t even so much as kissed you since your last shared moment at the wedding venue?

Was this really marriage? Or were you just a placeholder for the potential of your clan, an offspring bearing Satoru’s inviolable power?

Sneaking out of the bed carefully, you tiptoed downstairs of the shared loft and sat against the sofa with your knees tucked into your chest. You contemplated turning on the television for some white noise but you didn’t want to wake Gojo up, in fear he might yell although he’s never done that. You deduced that he wasn’t a tyrant, the speculation blending in on days where he’d come home tired but he would still have a gentleness laced within his voice as he whispered a quiet ‘hello, how was your day?’ to you.

Gentle yet not an ounce of intimacy had ever shone through, his body nearly melting into a warm bath everytime he moved past you after formalities. He would barely speak to you for the rest of the evening as he went about his routine. You thought maybe his missions just took up his entire mind, it was his success story after all; his life had been blasted throughout Japan due to his aspects. But then you’d noticed his time away from home with his friends, karaoke bars dredging up on his bank statements. 

Which brought you to think maybe he was an alcoholic and he couldn’t you know… get it up. 

It was fairly common for alcoholics to become inept in sex, so you couldn’t quite put it past him if that were the case. But then again, you’ve never seen him drunk. It was entirely possible that he could’ve sobered up by the time he arrived home. He never smelled of alcohol though, normally it would seep out of someone’s pores whether or not they had showered the pungent smell down the drain. But as he slipped into bed with the covers huddled against him after a night out, he’d smell of the shampoo you two shared with a fragrance of lilac surrounding the bedsheets. 

Your phone slipped from your hand with a loud thud and you flinched, cursing at yourself inwardly as you swiped down to pick it up. You prayed you didn’t wake Gojo up, as he had a long mission in the morning. But it was too late as you heard him rustle his way out of the sheets, a disgruntled yawn escaping him as he put on his slippers. The bedroom was open space within the loft, separated by a thin glass railing that someone could easily lean over which is exactly what he did. 

Gojo peered down at you, his tired eyes still filled with sleep. You could still see the radiance of them even from below, the piercing brightness that you swear you’ll never get used to. “Y/N? You’re not in bed.”

“I’m sorry Gojo, I didn’t mean to be so lou-” You started clumsily, fiddling with the stupid phone in your hands but he interrupted you quietly. 

“Satoru. Call me Satoru.” He reminded you with that same tenderness from before, that gentleness you couldn’t quite get past and your cheeks flushed red. “It's cold down there, isn’t it? Must be freezing.” 

Gojo padded down the stairs and you stood up as he draped a thin blanket onto your shoulders, shielding your body from the icy air that the winter had brought into the house. He headed for the restroom, his slippers shuffling against the hardwood floor and you made a note to buy yourself a pair; the fuzzy socks on your feet didn’t do you justice for the wretchedness of the season. You stared at the caved in reflection of yourself from the windowed wall, the trees dancing in the wind with their roots tucked safely underground. 

There was a river on this side of the house as well, the water edging up against the stones that had been laid out carefully to create a small pond for koi fish. A bridge elapsed over it and sometimes you sat against it, your feet dangling as you fed the fish while waiting for Gojo to return home. It was a funny feeling to have so much of his wealth staring back at you all of a sudden. 

“You still up?” Gojo asked, a bit puzzled as he stood against the light from the restroom. It veiled out into the living room and you were met with his silhouette crowding the doorway. He had his arm up against the doorframe and his eyebrows raised slightly as he stared at you. His shirt was hanging loosely off his body and some of the light illuminated his waist, the curves that travel down to his– 

He shut the light off and you couldn’t see him anymore except for the tufts of white hair sticking out like a sore thumb in the darkness. Moving towards the stairs, you ascended them as he managed to catch up to you. You didn’t notice the way he held out his hand, hovering over the small of your back to ensure you didn't stumble back. And even if you did, he’d be sure to catch you without so much as a thought whether he’d fall down the stairs with you. And if you both did manage to fall, a laugh would probably erupt out of him as you both sat there in bewildered pain.

Crawling into your side of the bed, you felt the cold rush of the sheets lying amidst the tangle of your limbs. You laid down with a quiet sigh, the moon thick amongst the clouds and you stared at it for a while. The other side of the bed creaked underneath his weight and you felt his body brush up against yours as he pulled the shared blanket over himself. You wanted nothing more than his arm to wrap around your waist, to pull you close and flush against him and you pouted when he turned his back to you. 

Gojo had fallen asleep the second his head hit the pillow and that meant he wouldn’t bother you for the rest of the night. Though, you kinda wished he did want to bother you. 

The morning came with the sunrise shielding your eyes as you awoke, the man next to you long gone and off to work. The first thing on your mind was breakfast, a delightful hope that maybe something could be made in the kitchen. But as you headed downstairs, the cabinets looked bare as well as the fridge with no intentions on filling themselves. A shopping trip apparently was needed today and you sighed heavily as you got yourself ready for the day. 

The train wasn’t very full, the morning commute having passed a few hours prior but you still had to stand near the edge of the sliding doors. Everything went to your liking at the grocery store, you had picked out a bunch of fruits, vegetables, and of course a few sweets for Gojo because you noticed the macaroons he had brought home one day, half eaten on his kitchen counter. You had watched him from the comfort of the bed, munching on them while scrolling through his phone, single-handedly eating the rest of the box in one sitting with a happy hum. That’s when you realized his sweet tooth, the bulk of it surviving off of straight sugared pastries.

As you headed towards the station, you had a nagging feeling there were eyes on you. A familiar sense surrounded you and you wondered why it felt like that; you pushed it out of your mind though. It was most likely someone checking out your attire, the adorned outfit clinging to your skin. It had enough detail pointing towards your midriff and your thighs encased in thin stockings, maybe someone had just been attentive today and wanted to ogle at you. It wasn’t like you could stop them. 

The train back was much more packed at noon and you had been squeezed into a corner, next to two guys that looked to be middle aged with cigarettes between their fingertips. This was an issue in your eyes, as you realized they were the same guys that had been harassing you before whenever you took the train home. You had ignored it the first few times, the music you had blasting in your ears enough for them to turn their heel but the past few days as you stepped out of the house to do your errands, it became much more demeaning. 

The first time it was a subtle nudge with their foot against yours, kicking it lightly to get you to pay attention to them. The next time it an arm grab as you hopped off the train, your feet just barely grazing the ground as you hauled yourself out past the doors. And now, you didn’t know what they would try this time as you failed to bring earbuds with you. It seemed as if the world didn’t care what happened to you when you left Gojo’s hell of a palace, the bypasser’s backs turned against your favor. The skirt you wore came past your midthigh and you clenched your hold on the pole a little tighter, shuffling some of your bags against your forearms wearily.

“Heading to the same place, doll?” One of them piped up, a sleazy smile lazed on his lips. You tried to ignore him, but he certainly noticed your lack of music and he got up from his seat in front of you. You tried to move backwards a bit, but there really wasn’t any space to do so.

“Yeah, we can escort you there this time. Seems to me you got a lot of bags.” The other one said as he also stood in front of you and you looked around the train, factoring in the exits and the fastest way to push through people. You also noted that almost everyone else was minding their own business, fucking assholes with their headphones and haughty misplaced morals.

As you decided whether or not to stand your ground, you noticed a tall figure in the back of the train car making their way forward with unhurried ease. Maybe you could ask them for help, whoever they were. Or maybe they were in cahoots with these men who had been harassing you, readying their attack from afar.

“Can you please leave me alone?” You asked firmly, trying to move away again from where they towered above you. You really weren’t liking your odds this time and a wave of fear rushed over you as one of them yanked some of your bags away, discarding them on the seat behind them.

“C’mon, looks like you need help today–” The first guy started, grabbing the groceries from your other arm and you pulled them back toward you harshly. The second guy had sat back into his seat, aiming to finish his cigarette instead of bothering you. The first guy kept a steady hand on you though, a bruised grip on you and it started to hurt; a dull throb had begun to overtake your arm.

“Please stop.” You pleaded, swinging the bag into him hard as he tried to deliberately yank it away again. Some of the items fell out of the bag and another hand on your arm gripped you harshly, pulling you down towards the man sitting. 

“Quit being so stubborn. You’re boyfriend’s not here to help you, huh?” The second guy cooed, holding you in place as the first guy went through the groceries on the floor. He huddled some into his jacket, unaware of his surroundings for a second and you used that to your advantage. Hitching your leg up, you kicked him directly in the abdomen and he doubled over in pain, the groceries falling from his pockets.

“You little bitch–!” The second guy sneered at you as he dug his lit cigarette into your skin and you yelped in pain, dropping all of your bags now onto the floor. You tried to wrench your arm away from the searing burn, but you couldn’t. His grip was too strong on you and you vaguely felt your back slam into the wall behind you, pain filling every crevice of your body. It was such a quick interaction, your thighs trembled underneath you as the man pushed up against you to keep you in place. Pure dread raced through you as you squeezed your eyes shut with a scream readying in your throat until you felt the weight off your chest and loud yells were flooding through your ears, the cigarette falling onto the floor.

More like terrified screams, a rush of wind had opened up in the train and your eyes peeked open cautiously. They first fixed on the wide open doors of the moving train, the lights speeding through the instances of train signs and the accompanied men hanging over the edge by their shirt collars. Then you registered the white haired man who was dangling said men with two strong hands, threatening to throw them out onto the electrified tracks beneath them. Begs and pleads came whirling out of both of the men’s mouths and you were sure one of them had started crying, sobs frantically overtaking him like a pussy.

“Satoru!” You cried out and his head whipped towards you, worry flooding his face as he saw you collapse with shaky footing onto the seat. Reluctantly, he pulled the men back into the train and slammed them against the door as he shut it. 

“Don’t fucking touch her again.” Gojo threatened, the edge in his voice not faltering and both of the men nodded scarily quick. “In fact, you don’t need to take this train anymore. Looks like another route opened up on your commute, huh?”

Gojo put his hands in his pockets and gave the men a hard kick to the stomach before moving over towards you. One of the other things you noticed was that he wasn’t in his uniform, his figure filled in a solid black sleeved tee and khakis instead. He crouched in front of you and immediately took off his usual sunglasses, studying your face to make sure you were okay. The whirling blue stared at you with growing panic as you shied away from him, terrified that they were going to see through your every sense. “Let me see.” 

Gojo’s hands immediately cupped your face as you froze, checking for any abrasions and then moved downwards to your arms and he stroked over the cigarette mark gently with his fingers. You winced at the pain that blossomed at the peak of the burn and he instantly pulled his hand away, his mind running a million miles a minute as he frowned at the singed area. Suddenly Gojo pulled a smile, a toothy grin that made you utterly confused.

“I have a first aid kit stashed somewhere in our house, so you’ll be fine!” He said reassuringly, a lighthearted tone edging his demeanor. What was with him? Normally he was quiet around you and his bearings kept punctuation in calmness. You’ve never seen this side of him and you faintly wondered if this was how he acted in public. Maybe when he was home, it was a different atmosphere and he was allowed to let his guard down.

Home, our house? His words cut through you like a knife. While he tended to the groceries on the floor and placed them into the bags again, you couldn’t help but tense up even more. It didn’t feel like your home, your shared life– 

Gojo’s voice fell a few octaves, the cheery upkeep of his personality disappearing as he became serious. “Was this the first time they harassed you?” 

“N-No.” You managed to say, sitting up fully on the train. Your head pounded and you moved to pick up some of the groceries as they rattled against the train’s floor. The sweet you had bought for Gojo sat near his foot and you noticed some of the pastries had been swished as you picked up the package. You let out a quiet noise of discontent, his eyes shot up towards yours with uneasiness and he noticed the sweets in your hand. 

“Y/N, why didn’t you tell me they were bothering you?” He murmured, carefully taking the sweets from your hand and placing them in the bag as he glanced at the words on the package. Realizing they were for him as you don’t eat those types of pastries often, his heart warmed in his chest. Gojo tried his best to hide the smile that was trying to flourish on his face, it wasn’t the time to get sappy about sweets you bought him. “I could’ve skipped some of my missions, sweetheart.” 

Sweetheart. A pet name. You didn’t think it was possible for him to utter such fondness, the affection sounding like it danced on a pile of fluffy clouds above your head. It made you lightheaded, or at least you thought it did; certainly not from the hellish confrontation you just had. 

“I didn’t think you’d believe me.” 

“Why wouldn’t I? I would’ve gladly joined you on your escapades if you told me.” Gojo teased with a gentle tone and you frowned at him. He was still crouched in front of you, his black long sleeve nearly slipping off the sides of his shoulders as he leaned forward to accommodate some space on the train as more people filed in. The ends of his elbows rested on one of your thighs as you crossed your ankles together in between his feet, recollecting yourself fully.

“You barely pay attention to me now, why would you go out of your way to come with me during my errands?” You avoided his eyes this time, not wanting to feel fooled into explaining anything more than that. But when the silence grew heavy after a few seconds, you glanced over to find out why he hadn’t spoken. 

His face had fallen flat and his eyes weren’t shining anymore, much to your relief. But as much as it relieved you it also made you incredibly upset, a knot thickening in your throat as you watched the dulled turquoise glass over.

“That’s not…” 

“It’s true! You never pay attention to me. You’re either out with friends at a karaoke bar probably drinking away the day or you’re exorcising some curse late in the night. Gojo, I don’t think you–” 

“Satoru. I don’t drink by the way.” He corrected you, silent annoyance filling his voice but it fizzled out as he tried his best to remain calm. In truth, he was falling apart on the inside. He never knew, never realized that he had been so distant from you and that you were hurting because of it. He only wanted to give you space the first few months to let you get used to his routine and to help you find your own. As Gojo thought of that reason, it seemed incredibly selfish of him and his chest tightened up with regret.

Pushing the feeling down, he laughed mildly with a hint of sorrow. “My mission was called off. I was on my way home, no curses to exorcise today.”

“Satoru…” Repeating his name, you said it with so much sadness that his heart almost broke in two. “Even when you come home early, you spend the rest of the evening without me. And your bank statements–” 

“From me buying the rounds for everyone, that’s not the issue right now.” He confessed truthfully; he would buy the whole bar for his friends who have seen hell and back with him, but he didn’t dare to drink a drop as it disoriented him too much. “I don’t have anything to do this evening so we can spend it together, sweeth–”

The next words you spoke were barely above a whisper as you gritted your teeth to stop yourself from outright sobbing them. “You haven’t so much as kissed me since the wedding. Why would you want to spend time with me?” 

Tears welled up in your eyes and he quickly wiped them away with the tips of his thumbs, the long awaited gesture making sobs wrack your body; of course he was drying the tears that he made you cry. “I don’t think we should’ve gotten married.” 

The train had halted, a loud announcement blaring that it was the end of the line. It was your stop, the doors opening up with the wind blowing through the train again and you tried to stand before Gojo softly blocked your way. You couldn’t look at him. “Y/N, you don’t mean that–”

“I just want to go home. I’m miserable, -toru.” 

“Of course, let’s go.” Gojo stood up with his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses once more, hauling the grocery bags onto his forearms and offering a hand out to you. “I’ll make dinner tonight.”

That’s not what you meant.

When you got to the house, stagnant air filled the house with tension filling in the empty corners. Gojo had become near silent, putting away the groceries with his lips pressed in a thin line and you thought you made him mad. 

In reality, he was on the verge of tears because he didn’t know how to make anything up to you. It was entirely his fault, the distance that forced you two apart. He was too focused on his missions to give a damn about how you felt, your feelings were rendered useless in his eyes. He was so used to arranged marriages in his clan that he never expected you to be so fragile, the frailness of a new life seeming to shock you. 

And so he gave you space. He thought it was something you wanted– something you needed after being forced to live with a big shot jujutsu sorcerer from Tokyo. He knew his life was drastically different from yours, you had stability from living peacefully with your clan. You were promised fortune and happiness and future children you could call your own, something you must’ve dreamed of. Gojo had nothing, his missions keeping him afloat as he danced in the midst of the curses who tried to test him; not to mention the wickedness of other clans threatening to clash with him.

All he really wanted was someone close enough to him that he could let his guard down without a second thought; his technique fading away and being replaced by your hands on him, tearing away at the fabric that made him whole. He’s never felt like this before, the constant emotions flaring up his every sense and he nearly wiped out when he first saw you on the sidewalk, carrying the precious groceries to the train station. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, the readying sensation of wanting to be the one who carried your bags and alleviate your stress, he’d likely let you step all over him like a doormat if it meant he could get close to you.

But he just couldn’t.

“I’m going to see my clan leader tomorrow.” You expressed, seating yourself at the island in the kitchen. You had just showered, the muck of the men’s hand from earlier flooding down the drain and you sighed in relief as you felt more like yourself again. Gojo had swapped his sunglasses for his blindfold, his hair sticking straight up in light of the band wedging his bangs off of his forehead. He was still in the same attire though, the dusked sleeves rolled up messily against his arms as he meticulously cut vegetables for dinner. When he registered your words, the knife in his hand faltered.

“Would they even let you come back?” Gojo sulked, mixing the sliced veggies with the accompanying sauce that sat on the stove. “Clans are very unforgiving, you know. I don’t think you’d survive if you went home.”

“I don’t know.” You really didn’t, all they taught you was to be praising of the Gojo clan member you marry; your whole life had been to practically worship him on your hands and knees. Not that you’ve done that– the hands and knees part would’ve been nice though in practice.

“We don’t have to talk about this now.” Gojo turned towards you, leaning over the island with a spoon in his hand. “Here, taste this for me.”

A blend of spices hit your tongue as you savored the sauce from the dip of the spoon, looking up at him as you did so. You could feel the cursed energy flowing from him and it made you waver slightly as you made to say that he was a good cook. As he moved back into front of the stove, you swore you saw a small blush creep up his cheeks.

A bit of silence followed and you decided to help out with dinner, picking out some other ingredients for him to use. As you opened the refrigerator to scour the shelves, Gojo cleared his throat as he peeled the outside of an onion. “What do you expect from a husband?” 

Your head peeked over the fridge towards him in utter shock. You thought you weren’t going to talk about pointless intentions, your mind having been set on leaving. “What?”

“Huh, I gotta repeat myself?” 

“No, I heard you. Let me think for a second.” 

The first thing that popped into your mind was intimacy. A husband should provide a sense of intimacy that no one but him should give you; the very essence of a human relationship. This didn’t have to include sexual relations, but in your case you wanted it to. It would be nice if he held your hand during outings and offered sentimental gestures like flowers and a hushed compliment every now and then. But the feeling you really craved was his hands against your thighs, digging into your flesh as his mouth hovered over every place it could reach with a pointed tongue and his eyes boring up towards yours, a smirk prominent on his lips as you quivered under his touch.

Dejection sat heavy in your heart just then, reminding you that he hasn’t done any of those things.

The fridge wafted over you with a cold atmosphere and you pushed the thought out of your head, shutting the door mindlessly. You watched Gojo add the rest of the ingredients to the pan and he washed the cutting board he used with a hum, presumably giving you time to think over your answer.

But you lost your train of thought and after a minute of just standing there with a blank face, he spoke up in an amused tone. “You gonna answer me, sweetheart?”

“Do you not want to have sex with me?” 

“Where did that come from?” A quiet chuckle escaped him as he dried his hands of excess water, leaning against the island with his hip. He tossed the towel down on the counter, crossing his arms with a coy smile. “I should be asking you that question.” 

“I thought you didn’t care or something was wrong with me. That you didn’t want me, that I was just some offer that my clan made you-” You started, emotions flowing through your system as tears threatened to spill again. Your voice broke off in the midst of the sentence and you gasped for air as you tried not to cry. You didn’t realize how broken you felt until now as it trudged up towards the surface and you vaguely registered Gojo moving towards you, his smirk disappearing with a quiet coo. 

His arms instantly wrapped around you, pulling you into a tight hug and you froze when you heard his heartbeat against your ear. “Y/N, I wanted you from the moment I saw you walking down the aisle.”

“Satoru…” You whispered into his chest and he shushed you, his strong arms hauling you onto the island and you sat eye level with him and he bended slightly down in front of you. You had the genius idea to remove his blindfold with lithe fingers, hooking them and pulling upwards to reveal the vividness hiding underneath. His hair fell against his eyes and he smiled at you warmly as he blinked his eyes a bit, getting used to the extra exposure of light. 

Your head was swimming at his confession, the memory of walking down in your white dress crossing your mind fondly. And him in his pristine black suit with a pearly blue tie, sticking out like a sore thumb mind you, his eyes had draped against you as your clan leader gave you away. You never recognized his awe of you as you were shaking like a leaf when you first saw his demeanor; the intense refined energy whirling off of him nearly made you trip down the aisle. 

“Please, just let me make it up to you.” Gojo whispered as you folded his blindfold into his pocket, leaning into your space with his arms braced on either side of you on the counter. “Before you leave me, let me give you one good night. Though, that’s a severe understatement if you know what I mean.”

Before you could answer him, his lips had found yours with lenience hanging by a thread. Immediately resting your hands against the back of his neck, you enclosed them and pulled him closer to you with a feeling yearning so deeply inside you. It made your entire body shudder with want, his words running circles in your mind as you let his tongue slip in with growing fervor. Gojo’s hands found your waist, holding you steady as you edged yourself away from him. 

“-toru, -toru, wait.” You pulled back and he made a short noise of discontent, instead latching his lips against your neck. “D-Dinner?” 

“Oh, right.” He muttered into your skin with a displeased groan. In one fluid motion, he turned off the stove and carried you by the grace of one arm. “That’s not what I want right now.” 

As he walked the both of you up the stairs to the loft, you clung onto him like a lifeline and even as he laid you down against the bed, your hands never left a part of his body. You needed to be close to him, needed this one chance for him to change your mind; in truth you didn’t want to leave him. But it made him move like clockwork, huh?

Who knew all you had to do was cry? 

Gojo hovered above you and God, you didn’t realize how massive his frame was against yours until he was on top of you. His broad shoulders basically caged you in, keeping you safe underneath him as his tongue found your collarbone and lapped at it slowly. Your hands flew to his hair with a quiet moan, tangling in the fluffy snow of it and he hummed delightfully at your response. His hands played with the seams at the bottom of your shirt and his eyes darted to yours, asking for permission. 

Offering a quick ‘yes’, you felt your shirt lift up carefully and his hands instantly roamed underneath, focusing on the way you had no bra on. How wonderful it was that you were comfortable in that sense with him, his fingers tweaking your nipple lightly as he studied you for a reaction. A peaked whimper left your mouth and your eyes slipped shut, your back arching slightly into his touch. Gojo felt the heavy ache of his cock, pressing harshly against the front of his trousers and he honestly didn’t think he could get this hard. But you were just so pliant, every single touch enacts a spark from you and he wished he made his move sooner. 

He could’ve been buried in you every waking moment you were with him for the past two months and he wished he could go back in time and beat himself up for being such a fucking idiot. 

“-toru…” You moaned out as his mouth latched onto your nipple now after he fully pulled your shirt off, his teeth grazing the bud and he had to press his palm against his cock to calm down as you whimpered out little pleas. Pleas that were music to his ears, your hands pulling his down towards your precious cunt and all he wanted to do was sink in. 

But he had to stop himself from just going in blind with you; it was your first time after all. Gojo didn’t want to scare you away because of his sheer desperation, it was his own fault that he made you wait so long. It wasn’t about him, he needed to make sure you saw stars tonight. 

“Fuck, want to hear those pretty whimpers for the rest of my life.” He breathed out as his fingers traced your clothed cunt, teasing it with a hard stroke upwards towards your clit. Gojo hooked his fingers underneath the waistband of your shorts and again with a questioning look pleaded for an answer. You rewarded him with a quick nod and he pulled them out with ease, his jaw dropping a bit as he noticed how wet you were already. It practically seeped out of you and he held back a groan as he swiped a finger through it. 

“God, didn’t think a pussy could get this wet.” He uttered under his breath, sucking his finger into his mouth to clean it off. “And I’ve seen my fair share.” 

“Satoru.” You frowned at him, sitting up on your elbows. “Did you have to add that last part?” 

“Sorry, baby. Your pussy’s the prettiest, I promise.” He reassured with a smirk, bending down to face your cunt.

He teased his tongue against your clit experimentally and groaned into you as you reacted exactly how he expected you to, your hands clutching at his hair again. He ran his arms underneath your thighs, rubbing softly at your hips as he pulled you more onto him. Gojo licked a fat stripe up your entire cunt this time, lapping at the arousal that flooded out of you with satisfaction. You moaned out, your head tipping back and your hips rolled against his face subconsciously as he fucked his tongue into you feverishly. His nose pressed against your clit, rubbing it subtly as he pointed his tongue into you and you could already feel your orgasm rushing up your spine. 

“-toru, hold on…. Fuck, too fast, wait!” You whined out, trying to push him away so you didn’t cum all over his face but his grip on you became tight and his fingers dug into the tops of your thighs, his forearms cradling the backs of them. His eyes met yours as he noticed you quiver, the blinding blue heavy with lust and nothing could’ve stopped you then. You came all over his face with a tremble, the tightness in your tummy unraveling like a ribbon and Gojo moaned into your cunt as your thighs squeezed against him.

“Should’ve mentioned my tongue’s won an award.” He stupidly quipped afterwards and you burst out laughing once you caught your breath, the mood having lightened much more to your benefit. You could learn to love his idiot, if this is how everyday was supposed to be. You noticed the glisten that shielded his lower face and he grinned at you, his cheeks flushed hot.

“What, for talking shit?” You teased as he wiped his mouth with the inside of his shirt before pulling it off, his abs suddenly on display and you almost choked. 

“Hey now, I don’t talk shit. Unless it’s about Utahime.” Gojo retorted with a chuckle, moving to unzip his trousers. 

You stopped him and he looked at you confused but when your fingers ran against the outline of his cock, his eyes widened. He was fucking huge though you had nothing to compare it to and honestly  you didn’t need to to know that he was gonna stretch you open with one shallow thrust. You unzipped his trousers, his clothed cock much more prominent in front of you now and you palmed him lightly, silently gauging his reaction. A quiet groan escaped him and his eyes fluttered shut as you pulled him out of his boxers. And holy fuck, he’s supposed to fuck you with this? 

How was it going to fit? Gojo was so goddamn lengthy and wrapped your hand around him carefully, testing the waters as one of his hands rested against your shoulder. “Y-Y/N…”

“Yeah?” You breathed, running your hand up his shaft towards the tip, the crown of it and he shuddered– he fucking shuddered from your touch and he inhaled sharply, his mouth falling open.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Tonight’s supposed to be about you.” Gojo bit back a moan as you started to pump him through his words, tracing some of his veins with the extent of your eyes.

“I want to, trust me.” 

Before you really knew what you were doing, you took him into your mouth and Gojo’s hands flew to the top of your head quickly, a breathy moan emitting from him. “Holy shit, Y/N, holy fucking shit.”

You enveloped his cock in your warmth and he tangled his fingers into your hair shakily, the sensation sending warning signals flying to his brain as he tried his best not to just buck into your mouth. You sucked him down like a champ, and who the fuck taught you to do that, he thought vaguely with breathy moans falling from his mouth. He couldn’t help it, your mouth felt so good around him and it’s been forever since someone’s tended to him like this.

“Oh God, you have such a dirty mouth, huh baby? Who taught you how to– fuck, suck me off like that?” He moaned out, a smirk plastered on his face as he looked down at you and you scowled at him in return. You swallowed around him, listening to his whimpers and you noticed that his thighs had started to shake lightly. 

Fuck, you were going to make him come just from this. “Shit, keep going baby…please, sweetheart.”

You felt his cock twitch in your mouth, lying heavily against your tongue and you lapped at it with a hefty moan. You hollowed your cheeks and took him as deep as he could possibly go and you felt his hips start to move languidly, fucking himself deeper into your mouth. You gagged around him, feeling the wet slick of your saliva on his cock drag against your lips and his grip tightened in your hair. Gojo set a relentless pace for you, rutting in with vigor and you felt him tremble above you with a rushed groan following, his hips stilling. 

You did not expect such a bitter taste, his cum flooding into your mouth in viscous ropes and you pulled off of him with a gasp. Some of it splattered on your face and you swallowed the load in your mouth a bit shocked. Your cunt suddenly ached with want, his whimpers and how his face contorted in pleasure replaying over and over and- “-toru…”

“Mm, ‘M sorry honey.” Gojo breathed out, his chest rising and falling and he swiped his finger through the splatter of cum across your cheek, reveling at how tainted you looked. Thank God he was the one to corrupt you, if it was anyone else he wouldn’t have been able to handle it he thought. The way you looked below him, your tongue flush on his cock; he’d probably kill everyone if he couldn’t see that again. 

And that’s right, you were his wife. His precious wife that he took for granted.

“-toru, please. I need you, your fingers-” Your pleas brought him back to his senses, the numb feeling of the past two months falling away as he helped you lay back on the bed. You looked absolutely wrecked, your lips red and as you pleaded, it came out in rasps.

“Shh, it’s okay. Hold on, I got you.” Gojo had taken to your left side, making sure he had a good view of his fingers slipping inside you. As he pushed two inside, you keened at the feeling and your hips moved against them. He curled them upwards, grazing against your sweet spot lightly and you arched your back, your head falling against the feathery pillows with a wanton moan. 

“Want my cock instead? Much better than my fingers, baby.” He cooed, his other hand wrapped around his cock and pumping it to full length again. It wasn’t all that difficult to get hard again when you were splayed out in front of him like this, begging for him to do anything and everything. Before you even nodded, he was pulling off the rest of his clothing and hovering over you once more, pulling his fingers out of you with a dismissed moan coming from you.

As he positioned himself against your entrance, his eyes captured yours for the first time in a while and you felt your cheeks blush hot with embarrassment. You couldn’t believe you were begging for this man, but then again you couldn’t believe you weren’t begging for him before. 

“Might hurt a bit, but you’ll be fine.” He warned as he prodded his tip into you slightly and you shuddered, holding onto his shoulder blades for support. He sunk further into you and about halfway in, a dull pain started to ache within you as he stretched you. You whimpered out and Gojo immediately stopped moving, slight concern spreading over his face. “Are you okay?” 

“Shit, Satoru, you’re still not all the way in?” You whined and he merely chuckled, bottoming out with a shallow thrust that nearly brought you to tears. Gojo let out a breathy groan, his head lolling into the side of your neck and he kissed at your skin tenderly. 

“I am now.” He sucked a bruise into the crevice of your neck as he waited for you to adjust, his cock twitching impatiently inside you. He could feel you squeezing him, clenching around him to get used to the feeling and every single time you did, it sent straight pleasure coursing through his veins. “Fuck, tell me when I can move…”

“You can move…” You managed to get out, your fingers running up his back with a delicate scratch. 

“Thank fuck–” Gojo groaned out loudly, pulling all the way out of you and thrusting in with one fluid motion. You cried out at the sudden movement, you didn’t think he’d be so headstrong to fuck into you harshly without so much as a quick warning. “You were driving me insane…so fucking warm and tight for me.”

Gojo worked you open with his cock and you couldn’t help the sounds that came out of you, quiet whimpers and pleas of his name, ‘satoru, slow down a bit for me’, and he did reluctantly but not before giving a few harsh thrusts into your cunt. You wrapped your legs around him, taking him in deeper and he groaned in your ear with a shudder as he gripped onto your thighs.

“Stay just like that.” He whined in a merciful tone, his face now adjacent to yours and he gave you a spirited kiss, licking into your mouth with every damned thrust into your poor cunt. You both moaned into the kiss and he suddenly broke away to hoist your legs over his shoulders instead. “Actually… fuck, this so much better.”

Gojo was able to aim dead against your sweet spot that lingered in the corners of your nerves and you arched as he did so, each perfect thrust relentlessly hitting it and your vision clouded with unbridled pleasure. He looked so godlike above you, sweat glistening against his chest and his white hair had begun to look quite damp with the same moisture, falling beautifully over his eyes; those were on another level and you had to look away so you didn’t cum too quickly.

“All for me? Say it’s all for me.��� He had started to beg, ecstasy coursing through both of you now and all you cared about was your releases, the euphoric pressure climbing up your spines with every strike of his hips against yours.

“All for you, -toru...” You babbled out as Gojo started rutting into you harshly, a quick rhythm picking up and your fingers welded into the sheets to keep yourself from hitting your head against the headboard. Your orgasm came crashing through you and you clenched around him as he buried into you with desperation.

“Fuck yeah, all for me.” His mouth dropped open with a low drawn out groan and his eyes squeezed shut as he came in you, his eyebrows furrowing as his orgasm cascaded through him. He shallowly pumped into you, mixing the cum with your arousal and you whimpered at the feeling as you came down from your high. He pulled out with a quiet sigh, gently bringing himself down to kiss you promptly and laying on top of you with his head on your chest. 

A couple minutes later, you felt his fingers trace over your burn mark that had scarred over on your arm. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” 

You looked down at him, his eyes fixated on the mark and you tousled his hair a bit as you smiled at him. Exhaustion had begun to take over your senses and you yawned as you spoke. “It’s okay, I’m just happy that you were on the same train.” 

“That’s not what I meant.” Gojo was quiet, his eminence surrounding you in a veil. “Please don’t leave.” 

“I wasn’t going to in the first place. You had already changed my mind when you said something about me not surviving in the clan.” 

He was quiet for a minute, registering what you just said. Then, you heard a cheeky laugh erupt from him.

“So, my dick wasn’t what changed your mind, huh. Guess we have to start over, don’t we?” He said with a smirk holding in his voice and everything he had just felt, the sorrow and the panic disappeared as he started to kiss down your chest. He pinned your wrists down as he hauled himself back into a good position, face to face with you. Maybe you could get used to the piercing brightness of his eyes, the turquoise loving and cordial and everything in between staring back at you in the way you’ve always wanted.

“Gojo Satoru, you’ve got quite a big ego don't you?”

“Perks of being the one and only.” He pressed a light kiss on your lips, his hands brushing over your body. “Well, maybe not for long.”

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

[ilycosy]

❝ DO YOU MIND ? ❞ | LUKE CASTELLAN

pairing : luke castellan x child of calliope!reader

summary — being the child of the mother of all muses, you're used to affections. boys and girls flock to you like you're a sweet, lovely thing, but they soon drop it when they realize that you're nothing like a muse. what happens if the camps precious, golden boy starts talking to you?

warnings : reader is a little toxic under their politeness, reader is also described to be feminine but there's no specific prns! luke is also kind of obsessive? he wants reader so bad.. not proofread (that's for babies /j)

aﾉn — i haven't written in a long time so bare with me, nor have i written for the pjo fandom ever (though ive been in it for a while..) this is also vv self indulgent (daughter of calliope here <3) so sorry if this isn't relatable ♡ lowercase intentional :)

being the child of the mother of muses has always been annoying— you've never had a break to just be. whether it be people chasing after you, or people who envy the attention you attract. there was always something, which you resented extremely.

if people were asked about you, they'd have only good things to say. you're beautiful, lovely, polite; but not a muse. it sometimes got annoying that it mattered so much to people, having others constantly talk about how you were never romantic.

you seemed to be uncomfortable with it at the very least, very few felt the resentment you held for love. those few could never confirm it though, having you reassure them that you're just a private person. ("there's no need for grand things, dear. i love you without such things." you'd say, through gritted teeth.) which is what might have drew luke castellan to you.

he saw through the politeness, observing you almost ever since you got claimed. he can picture when you got claimed, your embarrassed smile when an apollo girl had written a song for you. publicly performing it, you had lit up; literally. you were fifteen then— nothings changed in these past years.

luke can't remember all the times you've been confessed to, having songs, poems, even paintings done of you for your affection. but he can remember all the times he watched your facade crack; the way your smile stretched too wide to be real, your eyes dimming when you realized it was just another confession, or how you seemed to never interact with aphrodite boys anymore.

he finds it amusing mostly, how could such a pretty thing resent something people would kill for? either way, he finds himself being drawn in like you're a siren. the way your eyes darken at the mention of your mother, how you reapply gloss whenever you're nervous— he could go on really.

"are you going to eat that?" he finds himself asking you before he can stop himself, pointing at the yogurt bowl right next to your plate. he has half a mind to make sure he doesn't clam up when you look up at him, fluttering your lashes.

you gently push the bowl towards him, continuing on your morning like the best swordsman in the camp isn't talking to you. he pauses for a moment, licking his lips as he thinks of a reason to prolong this conversation.

fate seems to be on his side though— his brother, chris, being to busy talking to clarisse to even glance his way. he sits down, looking across from you as he eats the yogurt. he almost forgets that staring is rude.

"do you mind?" you ask, raising an eyebrow at him as you take a bite out of your crossiant. somewhat annoyed by the curly haired boy, your leg bounces steadily. "do i mind what?" he asks, like he's stupid— for some reason, you can't help but let your annoyance take over.

"why are you here," you start, pointing at the empty table. void of friends, you always sit alone until somebody claims they're in love with you. "you usually sit with your brothers and annabeth."

he shrugs at your questioning, not being able to find it in himself to hold back a teasing remark. "you know where i usually sit?" he asks with a small small, but the glint in his eyes show a certain smugness that gets under your skin.

you smile back at him, stretched too far and there's a bite in your voice hidden under honeyed words. "bye castellan," you croon sweetly. "hope you find your way back to your seat!" is all you give him, a morsel of fake attention that sends him reeling.

the next day, you wake up a bit later than normal. rising from your bunk around nine means you've missed breakfast, a deep feeling of anger surges through your core in a flash before you stretch and get dressed for the day.

when you leave the hermes cabin, you're stopped by a familiar figure. tall, brown hair, and a stupid smug grin. "hey angel," luke almost sings with how pleased he sounds with himself. "i have a presant!"

he reveals a crossiant and cold coffee, the faint warmth of the once fresh crossiant eases the deep feeling in your core even more though the coffee makes you want to vomit. "i don't like coffee." you state, taking a bite of the baked good. "but thank you, castellan."

he barely has time to respond with a you're welcome or an im sorry before you're smiling, too wide for his liking, and walking away. he debates following you, trying to talk to you like he's desperate for a friend. but he decides against it, wondering how to keep a conversation going with somebody that hates being sought after.

a week passes of the same routine— luke catching you at odd moments during the day, offering you little things to keep you around for a moment longer. you find it annoying, but keep a pleasant attitude anyways, it certainly helps that he's not bad to look at.

a small rumor spreads through camp, luke castellan having a crush. it barely takes the day for people to speculate that it's you.

it almost disappoints you, not having expected the camps favorite to fall so easily— doesn't he have any other girls? you debate on telling him that you're not open for relationships right now, having been in so many already, you could very easily blame any one of your exes.

but you don't have the chance to reject him the next time you see him because he's talking already, smiling at you like you'd fall so easily. "do you wanna help plan an activity with me?" he asks, offering you a delicious smelling tea.

"why would you want me to do that?" you question him, almost allowing yourself to have a genuine lazy smile but you just force a docile confused tilt. you sip on the tea, the once tart raspberries are now sweet in the tea mixing with a hibiscus flavor.

you're too busy drinking to notice him begin talking, he's mid laugh when you tune in. "— maybe you could help with setting up the theater?" he suggests, you pretend like you know how you got into a full conversation with him by subtly trying to exit it.

"why not have the apollo counselor help?" you say sweetly, setting the tea down and turning your full attention onto him. he feels sick to his stomach at how you look at him, soft features with a sugared tone. your eyes look at him like he's below you, like he's a nuisance, and for some reason that might be his favorite part.

he searches your face for a moment, glancing at your cold eyes before he chuckles. "maybe i want to spend time with you," he smiles like a cat, curling on his face with a pride that shouldn't make you as heated as it does. "i think you want to spend time with me too, yeah?"

you almost roll your eyes at his suggestion, but unable to squeeze out of this one without being mean, you agree to help him.

it only takes a couple weeks to fix up the theater due to the lack of counselors wanting to help, so it's safe for the younger kids to have a play— after that, it's back to the apollo children to plan. you sit back on the stage floor, sipping on a water bottle as you bask in the cold dusk breeze. "do you mind?"

a voice speaks from behind you, rasping slightly. you don't even have to look to know who it is, "no, castellan." you say, because you can't think of a reason for why you would mind.

luke sits himself down next to you, his knee brushing yours as he looks down at your water with a stare that could only be described at halfway pathetic and endearing. "here," you say, handing him the bottle. "i don't need you to die of dehydration on me."

he takes it gratefully, drinking it almost empty in three big gulps that make you roll your eyes with a small scoff. "did you just scoff?" he questions, an odd excitement in his voice.

you quickly try to deny it, hands coming up to animate how you didn't scoff or anything of the sort. but he already has a grin like he's drunk of the noise, "you definitely scoffed! that was so funny," he says with a loud laugh that makes you shush him, afraid of other campers hearing.

"i don't know why you hide that." he mumbles on your hand, fighting the temptation to lick it so you release him. those thoughts subside when your pretty eyes look up at him in confusion, "your annoyance." he clarifies.

"im not annoyed," you say, a bit defensively as you pull your hand away from him. "bit rude of you to say that, castellan."

he rolls his eyes in response, one of his arms coming behind you to rest on the stage. you can feel the ghost of it barely grazing you, "you're definitely annoyed," he says matter-of-factly. "you're almost always annoyed, or angry."

you fight back a scoff, but then give up. rolling your eyes you turn to him, searching his face for how he noticed, why he's doing this— but you come up with nothing. "why do you care?" you almost snap at him, drumming your fingers on your knee.

"i don't," he says like it's obvious. "im the same way." there's a beat after he says it, a silence that seems more comfortable than awkward like it should be. admitting his anger to you felt like a breath of fresh air, because he knew you'd understand him.

you bite your bottom lip, turning to face him. "that hatred," you start, almost in disbelief that you finally have the opportunity to talk about this. "it doesn't go away huh?" the question is phrased more like a statement, barely asking for confirmation.

he nods, not speaking as he watches you. there was no need for an explanation on what the hatred was, he knew as soon as you began talking. the gift from your mother was never really a gift to you, a burden of what it means to be a demigod is all it was.

you never knew what was genuine, or what was your mothers doing. but you felt a sense of ease with the hermes boy, nothing like all your previous relationships. "do you think it's bad," you mumble, almost ashamed.

"do you think it's bad that we feel this way?"

your question is softly spoken, genuinely interested in his opinion. he feels himself almost feel guilty for you, but he can't lie. "no," he wraps an arm around your waist. gently bringing you closer. "i think we might be the only ones in the right."

he says it with such confidence, a lack of guilt or unease in his voice that it makes you smile. not a sweet one, but a prideful one. one that could reflect the pride of a god, finally validation for the deep seated resentment that almost quenches that thirst for revenge.

minutes of silence pass by, the sun fully set as you lean your head on his shoulder. inhaling the pine and deep smell of his cologne, you hum. "are the rumors 'round camp true?" you ask.

he feels a small blush creep up his neck and ears, spreading across his face as he realizes that you heard about those. he never meant for his half-brothers to over hear a private conversation (said private conversation was in the bathroom, luke washing his hands while chris talked loudly about how he could get clarisse to go on a double date if he'd just ask you out already.)

"uh," he laughs awkwardly, his fingers drumming on the soft skin of your waist. "do you mind?"

you can't help the small smile that spreads across your face, "no." is all you need to say before his wet lips are on yours. hungry and desperate for your attention, which you give him without another thought.

[genericpuff]

Ive read a few of your LO esaays (all of which are really well written!) But I was wondering something.

Many people talk about how Rachel loves the story Lolita, and has talked about it before, but nobody has ever shown screenshots. I was wondering if you had any or knew where to find any. This is just being curious, not doubting your statements

Ah so I actually responded to a comment just like this a while back on reddit with all the receipts (it was particularly someone who was claiming it was all "made up" because like you, they couldn't seem to get any proof of it, which is totally valid) so I just had to go and dig those back up haha

DISCLAIMER: I want to make it clear that a lot of people tend to run amok with these suspicious pieces of evidence towards Rachel either "thinking Lolita was a romance" or being a pedophile. I want to make it clear that I do not think any of this is proof towards either of these claims. I do not think that she blatantly thinks Lolita is a romance, or that she was trying to perpetuate pedophilia in any sort of way, just that she may have wanted to have her cake and eat it too by acknowledging the age gap but embracing it anyways as she does throughout LO. I think, at best, she's a terrible writer who's still using the things she liked when she was a teenager / young adult as inspiration without actually going back and re-analyzing those things with an updated 38-year-old viewpoint (as she does this with a lot of things, not just Lolita). Claiming that the following receipts is 'proof' of Rachel being some kind of sex pest / pedophile is at best not constructive at all for the real discussions to be had concerning LO's subtext, and at worst, a serious claim that can ruin someone's life if thrown around without cause. Let's please be responsible and level-headed in how we approach this topic.

Old MySpace + DeviantArt bios with her interests listed:

Her old art site where she labels herself as a "lolita vamp" artist:

Her intro post from a lolita-themed forum she ran:

She does express that it's not THAT kind of lolita, which I'd like to think she never intended in the first place, but it's really telling that LO still manages to be that kind of lolita in a lot of ways, to the point that there are many scenes in LO that feel a little too similar to scenes from the 1990's Jeremy Irons adaptation, such as seen here.

(the above image are song lyrics written about the book, Lolita)

Also despite Rachel saying it wasn't "that kind" of lolita, she still made it clear back in the 2017/2018 run of the comic on Tumblr that Hades is, indeed, a "grown ass man", and that Persephone is a teenager.

And of course the proof is in the pudding, the comic itself is well aware of Persephone's age:

(either Rachel has been using Apollo as a mouthpiece for criticism for years, or she seriously thought this was supposed to make Hades look like the better partner for Persephone because "look at how mean Apollo is" when... he's deadass spitting facts LOL)

As I mentioned in my disclaimer, I don't think Rachel herself is in any way a sex pest or a pedo or whatever you might jump to assuming. Rachel has a history of being inspired by things she watched when she was a child without ever actually going back to re-analyze it or ask herself if what she read was credible or real-

(this isn't the only proof there is of her behaving this way, there's also the fact that she was clearly a huge Disney fan as a child but never asked herself why those movies worked as a piece of written media).

So again, I think at best she's just sort of dated herself by not going to the effort of researching the things she was into when she was a child, she tends to just throw things in that she likes haphazardly without a single thought as to why they worked in the first place or whether or not they would work in LO. Though this is a bit of a saltier opinion, I think when it comes to the Lolita thing specifically, I have a feeling she never actually read the book, just sorta did that thing where she watched the movie adaptation from the 90's and assumed that counted as reading the book and so she put it down as her favorite book / Nabokov as her favorite writer.

But none of that speculation really makes much difference because the evidence is 20+ years old. What does matter is that despite her tastes being what they were 20+ years ago, they're still present in LO and it's not even subtle, there are so many times Rachel has outright said both within the comic and outside of it that Hades is a "grown ass man" and Persephone is a literal teenager. Her fans, of course, will still go to the effort of explaining it on her behalf ("they're gods! ageing isn't a thing for them!" "how old you are doesn't matter when you can be immortal!" "well she probably doesn't mean LITERALLY 19, just like, the god version of it..."), but you can't deny what's coming from the horse's mouth - Hades and Persephone are in a relationship based on an intentionally massive age gap. Regardless of what completely speculative parallels we can draw between H x P and that of Lolita's Humbert Humbert and Dolores using 20 year old MySpace bios as evidence, Hades and Persephone having a massive and intentional age gap is undeniable fact made canon by the creator herself, no matter how you try and slice it.

[emperyans]

Can I request a soulmate!AU with a Clark Kent x reader? Where your soul mates name is on your wrist?

I.

Clark Kent.

It shows up sometime around your twelfth birthday. There’s no warning before it happens- you’re absentmindedly eating breakfast one day when you glance at your wrist and all of sudden it’s there, in neat, slanted writing.

You’re at a loss for how to react at first- hell, this is the name of your soulmate. A few minutes are spent staring in awe at the words on your wrist, before the shock falls away and you’re left feeling a little giddy- you finally know their name.

Every advice column ever written about the matter says not to obsess over it, but your pre-teen self can’t help but fixate on the markings whenever they come into your line of sight.

II.

Clark is not a very widespread first name, you discover. It always ranks around the four-hundred mark in popularity polls, both in North America and the UK.

Despite that, you run into a lot of them. Enough for you to begin to suspect that fate is playing a cruel game- really, how many Clarks can one person meet over the course of their lifetime?

To your dismay, you end up hating every single one of them. Thankfully, none of their last names even resemble Kent.

III.

Clark means scholar.

You wonder if he’s the academic type.

A lot of questioning is done on your part when you’re bored and have nothing better to do. Even more so when you're feeling lonely. Is he tall? What’s his favourite colour? Does he enjoy whole-wheat bread?

When you were a teenager, you had decided he was quite possibly going to be the most perfect person on earth. Your best friend at the time had laughed, telling you that no one was perfect.

You’re older, now. And while you no longer think Clark Kent, whoever he is, would be perfect, you still can’t stop yourself from picturing what he might be like after you have a bad day.

IV.

The first time you encounter it, you’re taking the subway home.

The newspaper is discarded on a scratched up subway seat. The headline is something about Lex Luthor - it always is in Metropolis- but that is not what catches your attention.

It’s under the headline, smudged to ruin by the previous reader's fingers. And yet still discernible enough to make your heart beat faster.

By Clark Kent.

V.

Finding out how to contact the newspaper is easy enough. You cant figure out how to reach him, though, and you wonder what the point of modern technology is if you knew someone’s full name yet still had no way of reaching them.

When you call them, the receptionist tells you that Mr. Kent is out. Leave a message.

You give her a reasonably vague excuse to have him contact you, double checking that she has your name written down correctly. There’s a hint in her voice that tells you she suspects what is going on, but she doesn’t comment on it. You’re infinitely thankful.

VI.

By the time you leave work, there’s a missed call and a voicemail left on your phone. You wait until you get home to listen to it, and it’s a smart idea, because you didn’t know you could get this unreasonably anxious just by hearing someone say your name.

“This is Clark. Uh, Clark Kent. I hope- did I say your name right? Never mind- I was hoping we could meet up?”

He’s stumbling over his words and you can’t help but laugh- at least you’re not the only one completely overcome by nerves.

The voicemail ends with an address and a time to meet up (“ That is, if it’s okay with you-“ ) tomorrow.

You send a text confirming that you’ll be there.

VII.

You’re at the designated meeting place- one of Metropolis’ many parks. How they manage to put them in a city with such high density is beyond you- still, you weren’t here to question their urban planning prowess.

You swear you can feel him before you see him.

The first thing you notice is how tall he is. Very, very tall. He’s dressed in a dark grey suit- carrying a briefcase, clearly having just gotten done with work. It’s not what you imagined- yet somehow, it’s better than anything you’ve ever dreamt up.

He has glasses, you note. They have the effect of making him look impossibly endearing.

You’re not aware you’re gaping at him until he says your name.

“Nice to meet you, Clark.” It’s hard to keep the grin off your face. “You’re saying it right, by the way.” You stick your hand out for a handshake, making sure to angle it so the words on your wrist are visible.

He takes it, a smile playing at his lips. Warmth envelops your hand immediately. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

[hiemaldesirae]

i have less than 24 hours left before i have to go through one of the most stressful days of my life so. heres a list of my fav radiostatic fic recs in no particular order

clarification: by radiostatic i mean fics where vox is 100% not the dom in the relationship. most of these dont contain explicit sex though, and im not recommending any straight porn fics here because you can easily find those with a click and search through the bottom vox tag lmao

most of these fics are unfinished, so be warned that i will not take accountability if you get attached to these without them being finished properly. in fact ill just laugh at you because then we'll be suffering together

now, that aside- starting off strong with some of the more popular fics:

RHTVS / Radio Healed the Video Star by Aspiring_Forest_Witch

notes: LONG fucking fic. like this guys almost 700k words long fic. one of the best things ive ever read in my life though and it has a plotline thats frankly more engaging than the actual showing of hazbin on amazon. so. you know. if you have the time to read it Please do you wont regret it

Unraveling Emotions by Xaelei

notes: one of my favourite fics ever on god. started my brainrot for dad!husk, portrays one of the most scrumptious radiostatic dynamics and is generally so very well written that i might end up trying to recreate one of the scenes in comic form. genuinely in love with this fic and im so glad i can say i was the first comment on this fic because my God its such a treat to see new chapters drop for this. unfortunately i havent had the time to write out a detailed comment as of now but if someone wants to let the author know that im still in love with their fic and will continue supporting it until i drop dead go ahead for me

Safe with Me by rillyrillo

notes: the prequel and main fic of this series is human radiostatic, though the sequel is set in hell. it comes with gorgeous gorgeous art and frankly one of the most exhilirating endings ive ever had the pleasure of witnessing play out. i recommend you guys check out their other fics too, the art continues in them + their radiostatic is written wonderfully across all universes!

A Month of Rut by Vylad

notes: this fic is very self indulgent to me. i love the way radiostatic is written in this one because theyre very soft and sweet, but others may not prefer it if theyre looking for freak4freak radiostatic. if you just want something to indulge in and relax with at the end of a heavy day though this is my #1 rec. i read this sometimes when i find myself crying at night lmao

Down, Up, and Back Down by CowboyEnthusiast

notes: made me sob like a baby. 10/10 no notes whatsoever read it for yourself because you WILL not regret it. i genuinely am always at a loss for words whenever i reread this because it is among the most gutwrenching but beautiful and poetic works that ive ever read and i think it deserves some recognition

Mind the Gap by ZLynn

notes: again, to reiterate, i do very much dislike the abusive!staticmoth portrayal i see in a lot of fics. but in this one... it's written so perfectly, i can definitely see it actually happening. i enjoy the way that val does still seem to care about vox, albeit in his own twisted way that eventually breaks and fractures their love and trust, and its just. Ugh. So fucking good

+ with the less popular but still wonderful depictions of radiostatic that i love to indulge in:

i'll give you a show (cause it helps fill the seats) by dead_and_dreaming

notes: absolutely shameless plug from me for my dear mk's work because i cant stop thinking about the way that she's portrayed al here. its actually insane how fucked up that stupid little deer is and i just. i really fucking love the way that their alastor is written, it's genuinely probably my Number One depiction of alastor ever. i demand more of this stupid little freak RIGHT NOW!!!!

Any of the fics by Rachello344 in the Hazbin Hotel Fandom Tag on their profile

notes: so remember when i told you guys i wouldnt be linking straight porn. looks away... okay in my defense though i read the smut for the characterization and their unique dynamics. its sooo interesting to see how their radiostatic is explored here and im honestly refreshed by the depiction of their relationship. im here for it !!!

The Read 'Em and Weep Series by TooManyPseudonyms

notes: so from what i was able to piece together (everything flies over my head when im reading, forgive me for my low media literacy) this is an au set before the hotel where (in the first work) al and vox are in a qpr relationship. in the second work this evolves into a romantic relationship, and the exploration of their dynamic through this is just... Yeah. please read it its 100% worth your time and so underrated it hurts my heart

Uneasy by Saezs

notes: this fic is one of the first radiostatic fics i read (the others being RHTVS and... i think i tried the 666 series, but it didnt appeal to me lol) and its actually just wonderful. i really love saezs's genderfluid vox and how supportive the other vees are of them <3 their portrayl of the characters puts a smile on my face whenever i reread their work

Heat Waves by HappyPRAWN

notes: i'll be fr dsmptsd hit me like a truck when i read the title but it is such an interesting debut! only at one chapter as of me making this post but the way the author wrote this is so engaging and it really makes me wonder what they have next in store for the fic

Do I have your attention now? by Chi_Chi25

notes: wow no way we have the same name... anyway ahem. ill be completely honest this ones a bit of a guilty pleasure for me. this fic is a bit fragmented and short, so for people who click off fics when they see imperfect grammar this one may not be for you. however if you can look past that, it has an engaging storyline and quite the juicy concept :)

Killer Ex by FanGirl48

notes: gorgeous, gorgeous little human! radiostatic oneshot. i love the relationship that vox and al have here... the reasons why they both stayed away from each other even though theyre still so very clearly down bad for each other... anyway. i think about this one a lot and i still go back to reread it sometimes lol

Negotiations by FanGirl48

notes: i didnt realize until i started making this list that this fic was also written by fangirl48.... go off queen keep feeding us (me). this one was a fic recommended to me initially by link nonny, and i can 100% vouch for how good it is. its got appletv interactions, radiostatic plus lucifer trying to navigate heaven, angels... basically everything needed for a very varied and well packed with flavour story

The diary of a Serial Killer by ShippersCave

notes: okay im running out of brain juice at this point but. yeah this fic is soooo self indulgent to me. this ones another human au, with al as a serial killer and vox as the journalist trying to conduct interviews with him. its got SUCH a good dynamic between al and vox, i encourage you guys to check it out and give it a chance even if youre not really into human aus.

My heart's been pierced by Cupid by ShippersCave

notes: pirate/siren au !!!!!!!!! RAAHH !!!!! i dont have to say anything else for this if thats not enough to get you to click then i dont know what is

System Shutdown by Swoolie

notes: i cant believe i nearly forgot about this one LMAO... vox goes onto a temporary hiatus and everyone goes crazy about it. im not really sure if this counts as radiostatic frankly because of the way its tagged but its so good i think you should give it a read anyway

Together in Radio Static by Anonymous

notes: QPR media husbands radiostatic au !!!! i love this one especially because it opens off with vox slapping alastor across the face for leaving him LMAOO (deserved)

What Has Been by Tianren

notes: another human au (YEAH YEAH I KNOW. JUST HEAR ME OUT OKAY i swear im cooking) look, as someone with religious trauma deeper than i can properly express and the worlds fifteenth worst parental issues, the depiction of vox in this fic just really hits home. i really adore the exploration of voxs past and how the themes of religious guilt and cults are woven in so far- and it blends very seamlessly with their human au, despite the characters eccentricities

you're too sweet for me by awestruck_atrophy and moonbeanies

notes: basically, vox and al make a deal where vox tries to help him out of the shackles or whatever that are bound to him because of his stupid dumbass lusting for power. its very intriguing so far and i love the setup and worldbuilding the authors have done, so you should check it out if you want a unique perspective on radiostatics relationship

candlelight by curtailed

notes: the best way i can think of to describe this one is like... fake marriage but instead of fake marriage its. fake roommates??? the author probably puts it better than me tbh. its super interesting so far, i cant wait to see where this one is headed especially with how unique its premise is!

Zero Day by Anonymous

notes: this one is like those time regression manhwas. you know, the ones where the protag goes back in time and proceeds to try and avoid everyone who made their life miserable- only to fail because for some reason now they're paying attention to them more than they would have had they stayed the same person. its certainly very promising, though! i do love indulging in time regression stories, especially when the mc is someone i love like vox. i really cant wait to see which direction this one is headed in :)

Never as Good as the First Time by IComeForFanficsNowin403

notes: okay. so, uh. um. so- this one is in spanish. HOWEVER its premise (serial killer alastor meets television star (?? i think. its not quite clear) at a party hosted by rosie, moves into his neighborhood to keep an eye on the pretty prey) is just so unique i honestly think its worth the experience to pull out google translate and try living the machine translated life. really. give it a chance. also its got beautiful art to go along with, so.. you know. thats just a bonus!

+ honorary staticmoth and one-sided/past radiostatic fic rec:

Freak-A-Zoid by Femalefonzie

notes: this fic deserves every single piece of praise its ever gotten because good lord. its SO good. i was not seeing the radiostatic twist come in, but it *is* mostly staticmoth. and also a/b/o but i mean. who *hasnt* indulged in a little bit of a/b/o before honestly

there are other fics that i personally like to indulge in, but i frankly wouldnt recommend to anyone else because they're either the kinds of fics that i myself can only bring myself to read after ive spent 8 hours at work crying into my pillow and need to look at something entertaining, or when im starved of content and cant be bothered to cook myself so i pull out the translator and start going at it. (technically i should know how to read french by now but. urgh. anywway..)

[anotherclassicpretence]

Okay so. Writing a new undeservedly boast-y synopsis of my Elder Scrolls novel.

Ever wondered how the Great War actually went? Well, I've got one version for you! Complete with Elder Council politics, Mede dynasty succession tangles, multiple contemplations on the nature of magic, a subtle look at Cyrodiil's domination over its provinces, and a tinge of Oblivion's main storyline that ends in a completely different way reflecting the changed times and new characters introduced in this tale. Why is magic so different in Oblivion and Skyrim? How did the <REDACTED> adjust to taking on the mantle of <REDACTED>? What were those 'three assassination attempts' mentioned in the Thalmor dossier on Delphine? Head on over to AO3 through my pinned message for that and more! The best part? It's a massive work. Three books long. I'm talking the 300k+ words range. Does that mean it kinda starts slowly? Yes. Does it also feature, as a main character, thee most disliked NPC in Skyrim? You bet. But did I have an absolute blast exploring her and the many original characters I've made? Also a resounding yes. Btw, IT IS COMPLETELY WRITTEN. I'm only editing now, so the posting will be consistent and complete.

It is also almost entirely canon compliant. You might wonder how that is, if you're around Chapter 10, because there are some extremely influential characters being introduced that do not show up in canon though they definitely affect things. Keep reading!

If you've reached this point, thank you for bearing with me! The AO3 link is on my pinned message, and also below. I do cross post to tumblr sometimes, with #shadows of frostfall, but it's not as consistent as the AO3 chapters. I hope you check it out, and hope you enjoy!

The Shadows of Frostfall (10655 words) by anotherclassicpretence Chapters: 13/? Fandom: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Delphine (Elder Scrolls), Titus Mede II, Mariana Mede (OC), Morgen Halfhand (OC)

[helpallthenamesaretaken]

hi so this is a bit of a rant because I had a lot on my mind and needed to get it out, don't mind me, I might have gone little mad in this. warning: probably an unpopular opinion

ok now that you're here.

why are the logical behind pre-tlo jealous!percy fics so despicable? like seriously. this is a sentiment ive seen from lot of percabeth fans, and I hate it so much.

so a lot of posts I've seen about this are like "why did percy have to have love interests ? annabeth needs a side man too to make it equal" ok first of all, why is there some weighing scale in all of this? it's not a court situation where we need to judge which side committed more crimes.

having a 'side man' for annabeth completely disrespects the feelings she was going through in the period of botl-tlo. I think most people forget that rachel wasn't her only problem during that time. luke, her older brother figure from 7 years old had been possessed by the soul of kronos. OF COURSE she would be emotionally unavailable due to her grief. at the end of botl, percy describes that SHE never came and talked to him either about the kiss or whatever. it was a mutual silent treatment. percy couldnt have confessed to annabeth even if he tried, because it was obviously a bad time for her duh. they rlly expect percy to be like "annabeth😍 I know you're going through major grief right now ❤️ but pls kiss me" the same way annabeth found it hard to confess to percy because of rachel and whatever.

people think it's really funny to write fics about annabeth flirting with someone like connor during times like when percy got exploded by the volcano. "percy was doing things with Calypso too--" HE WAS HEALING. He had to stay there for some time to heal after getting EXPLODED. he was also tempted with paradise. stuff like that isn't a decision to make in a second. having annabeth have fun with other boys with connor or smthn while she thinks percy is dead is such a disrespect to her love for percy, I wonder how people like that are percabeth fans at all. same goes for fics where annabeth does it ON PURPOSE to make percy mad.

problem with these type of fics is that they're so PETTY. "If i was annabeth I would have made percy beg on his knees" "if I was annabeth I would murder him--" BUT YOURE NOT ANNABETH. annabeth chase LOVED percy jackson and would never do something on purpose to hurt percy or annoy him. she's not vicious like you.

also percy wasn't falling all over rachel and calypso. he treated them as he would treat any other best friend and kept his distance romantically, even though it was clear he might have had a crush. making annabeth purposefully flirt with other guys or accept other guys advances doesn't equal the weighing scale, it makes it even more unequal.

look, I'm not saying annabeth can't have any love interest other than percy. she CAN find other men attractive. she CAN have interest in other men. you can write that all you want. I'm just saying it was never something so necessary and the logic behind it is so petty. and her weaponising it because of her jealousy towards rachel is just so not something she would ever do.

also, just a short note before this ends: i actually like some jealous!percy fics. some are good. it's just some people get really worked up about the fact that annabeth NEEDS a love interest to get back at percy. that's who I'm mad about. if you've written a jealous!percy fic, cool!

[catdiarie]

☥  ˖ִ ࣪ 🦇 magnifying glass.　⠀l. howlett & s. summers . . .

( ♱ ) … scott is missing. logan will stop at nothing to find him. (tw: blood, kidnapping, physical trauma, IVs)

777 。。masterlist

“I’m looking for Scott,” Logan repeats. “Scott Summers. ‘Bout yay high, brown hair, glasses with red lenses, always looks perfectly pressed?”

“I’m sorry,” the young woman in the doorway says to him. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, the gleam of the paper lantern hanging above the door the only light around them. “I don’t know such a man.”

“You have to know,” Logan presses. “Your job is to know every mutant who comes in and out of this damn place! Tell me the truth.”

“I don’t know him,” she repeats softly. “I am sorry. Maybe your friend hasn’t passed through here? There are hundreds of other places a lone mutant might go, this area is only one. I tell you, I’ll keep a look out for him. I’ll ask the others here, the residents, maybe they have word. Come back tomorrow, I’ll tell you if I have found anything.”

Logan’s nails break skin as his fists clench, bitter anger rising up and filling his mouth. He can’t find anything else to say, nothing that will make her have more information or that will make Scott come skipping down the narrow road, ready to swoon into Logan’s arms like a damsel in distress. Logan turns his back to the woman and makes it down two of the three steps back to street level before he remembers to say “thank you,” the words rough and low. 

It starts to rain, freezing little spits, as Logan walks down the cobblestones of the road—old part of the city, here, the buildings low and roads narrow, not wide enough even for a single car. It’s packed, though, with carts advertising pancakes and jewelry hung with warm glowing lanterns and signs written in a language he can’t read. Everything is abandoned, the mutants here knowing better than to be out after dark. At the street’s exit, Jubilee and Jean are waiting in the car for him, headlights cutting through the gloom. He’s tempted to not rejoin them, head off on his own instead to find Scott. Perhaps then the yield would be better.

The rain falls down harder, from a thin drizzle to a steady rush. Logan jogs down the last stretch of road to the car, yanking the door open and throwing himself into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut behind him. Jean jumps ever so slightly in the driver’s seat, though her expression quickly melts to concern. 

“No luck, then?” She questions. Jubilee leans forward from the back seat, eyes wide and curious.

Logan bares his teeth, growling at the floor. “Nothin’. Said to come back tomorrow.”

“Hey, that’s good, right?” Jubilee encourages. “Maybe they’ll find something! Might even find Scott!”

“Best not to get your hopes up,” Jean corrects gently. “We don’t even know that Scott’s anywhere near here.”

Logan rips a cigar and lighter from his jacket pocket and starts up a smoke, cracking the window just enough. The lighter itself he refuses to even look at, shoving it back in his pocket before he can get too good a glance. A gift from Scott for his birthday it was, personalized with their initials carved into the surface. 

“I’m starving,” Logan mutters. “Hit the nearest McDonalds. Need some good ‘ol meat and grease.”

Jean purses her lips, looking on sympathetically. She puts the car in drive though, and they pull away from the curb smoothly, rain patting on the hood. For a moment, Logan is struck by the intense, ugly thought that he hates her. She doesn’t deserve it, but all Logan can think about is how she got more time with Scott than he did. If they don’t find him, Logan will never forgive her for that. 

Scott loved her. Everyone knew it, too. It was obvious and no one was surprised when they became a thing. No one but Logan. Logan, who had been privy to the stretch of Scott’s skin—gleaming smooth and soft as butter—as a tease each night until Scott’s goading words tangled them together. Logan, who thought he meant something and was only surprised to find out that a girl was what meant more, rather than that he wasn't worth as much as another guy. 

Scott loved her and she loved Scott. But it was Scott who said no matter how much he loved Jean, he could never love her like he loves Logan. And it was Logan who believed him.

They pull into the restaurant parking lot and Logan is the first out of the car and inside. The place is empty but for the workers. No one asks any questions when Logan orders three burgers, each with two thick hamburger patties, and a large side of fries. 

He sits a table away from Jean and Jubilee, canines ripping into his burger in a violent way—it resembles a feral animal digging their teeth into human skin. Somewhere along the line of Scott being missing, Logan has started feeling more feral than human. His instincts roar under his skin. Every inch of his body screams with the burning ache of losing a mate. And Scott isn’t. Not really. But to Logan’s instincts, that doesn’t matter, because he was mate whether they think so or not.

And this kind of pain feels like what death must.

Logan rejoins the pair after he polishes off his food—three burgers, fries, and a vanilla milkshake he bought and consumed purely to stall. They’ve been talking in quiet tones between themselves, a conversation that dies the second Logan slides into the booth beside Jubilee. 

“What?” he growls out. The only part of the conversation he’d caught was his name paired with Scott's, the tone of what they said already foreshadowing that Logan won’t like what they’ve been discussing.

 “We were—” Jean begins, but Jubilee quickly cuts her off.

“We were wondering if maybe Scott left because of you!” she blurts. “Beast said that the last he saw of Scott was when he was leaving your room, sometime way early, like three am? Maybe you said something that upset him, so he left to cool off?”

“No,” Logan dismisses, tone flat and cold. “He didn’t leave because of me. Everything was perfectly fine before I fell asleep. Odds are he had a nightmare, went out, and got picked up by someone that I ain’t gonna take too kindly to.”

They’d been trading gentle touches and teasing remarks the whole night, Scott melting under him with a smug grin when Logan had managed to cage him to their bed sometime after dinner and dessert. He’d looked like a cat that got the cream, and when Logan said as much, he’d smarted off with “not yet, because someone’s decided to take all night.” His fingers had laced through Logan’s hair at his nape and their lips finally, finally met after hours of waiting and wanting. 

Jean sighs, the air from it ruffling her bangs. “Well, we don’t exactly have any strong leads. Logan, you said you smelled Scott along with someone else you couldn’t place, and that Scott smelled afraid. Best we can assume is that he was kidnapped.”

“Can’t you try and find him?” Jubilee ventures. “Like the professor?”

“No,” Jean says with a shake of her head. “I tried. I can’t pick him up.”

Jubilee sits back at that, face ashen. Logan knows how upset she’s been about all of this—Scott’s always been her favorite teacher. Jean, too, has been distraught, trying to keep herself busy and stretched out enough that she doesn’t have time to worry. Logan is glad for it. He doesn’t have to be angry, then, for her acting as though she loves and cares about Scott more than any of the rest of them. 

“Hey, I didn’t mean—he’s not dead,” Jean amends. “It’s more like…the connection is being blocked. Instead of feeling Scott, I hit a wall.”

They lapse over into silence at that. A familiar burning ache starts up in Logan’s chest. He rubs at it with the heel of his hand, face twisted in discomfort.  

“What is it?” Jean asks, watching him with concern.

“Instinct flare up,” Logan grunts out. “Happens when—” He cuts off sharply, head snapping around towards the restaurant door. A man walks in, average and bland looking. But he smells…

Logan is up and across the room before he can blink, man slammed to the wall with a hand around his throat and Logan’s claws at his temple. “Where is he?” Logan spits out, nearly foaming at the mouth. The only things he can register are the beat of his blood, loud and rushing, and the scent of this man—same as the one he’d found mingled with Scott’s fear-scent. Distantly, as if through water, Logan can just make out the sounds of shouting behind himself.

“I—I don’t—” the man chokes out. Logan rears back, pulling the man with him, and slams him against the wall again. 

“Where—” Logan repeats, his voice deadly low “—is Scott Summers?”

—

He went feral, Jean will tell him later. Became an animal of instinct only. He wouldn’t listen to anyone, it was like he couldn’t even hear them. They’d tried to follow him in the car as he streaked through town, but it became increasingly hard when he tore through woods and buildings with no regards for anything or anyone else. 

What mattered, though, was finding Scott. Finding Scott in a weather-beaten warehouse hidden out in the woods; abandoned, secluded, perfectly negligible to the average person. A bloody slaughter became smeared across Logan’s skin and the walls before he broke down the door, finding Scott broken and fevered curled in the corner, clothes shredded to rags. Logan had carried him out. Jean and Jubilee found him soon after, and managed to coax him into the backseat with Scott strung across his lap. 

Now, Logan curls around Scott in their bed, IV hooked to Scott’s arm. Logan buries his face in Scott’s nape, whispering “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry” over and over again. He strokes his hand up and down Scott’s hip, the same soothing motion that’s always relaxed him before. Scott’s been barely lucid in the hours since his liberation, fading in and out of sleep with unfocused eyes and silent sobs. 

Scott twists, the movement pulling on his IV, and Logan gently nips Scott’s neck. “Settle, Scotty. Can’t have you pulling you IV out.”

“Logan?” Scott pants. It’s rough and brutal, the way the word sounds. Logan’s chest rumbles and he pushes them closer together.

“It’s me. Need anything? Water? Hungry at all?” Logan’s almost desperate for something to do—after Beast had checked Scott over there’s been nothing to do but wait and pray Scott pulls through. His fever was 103 degrees fahrenheit—which still hasn’t gone down, much to Logan’s distress—and he was extremely dehydrated with the beginning signs of malnourishment.

“What’s—what happened? Where are we?” 

Logan pushes past a wave of panic to nuzzle his nose into Scott’s temple in a way he hopes is comforting. “At the school right now. Our room. Found you at that warehouse and got you out.”

There’s a long pause before Scott asks, ever so timidly, “What day is it?”

“Saturday. The twelfth.” Six days Scott had been missing. A near week of on-the-brink-of-insanity and panic, sleepless nights and a host of worry.

“They said you weren’t going to come for me,” Scott whispers. “That—that you all were doing so much better and were glad to be rid of me.”

“Scotty, you don’t have to—”

“Let me,” Scott forces. He coughs and Logan winces, knowing the roughness that he must have in his throat. Pressed so tightly together, Logan can feel the waves of heat from Scott’s fever. “They told me that you and Jean were…close, now. That my job had already been replaced and you celebrated. At first, I didn’t believe any of it. I knew they were lying. But then everything kept happening and no one was there and I—”

His voice cracks sharply and Logan feels the way his whole body shudders. Hears the hitch of his breath as he starts to cry. Logan’s heart shatters and shatters and shatters, falling until it hits the floor. 

“I believed it then. When I saw you, I thought it was a hallucination. That they were inducing it to make me feel worse, or that it was some stupid dream.”

“I’m here,” Logan says desperately, needing Scott to believe it—to understand. “I’m right here, I swear. And I promise that it will never, ever happen again. And no matter what, we will always come for you.”

“I think...I know that now.” Scott’s tone is still so uncertain, scratchy with the dryness of his throat.

“What did they do to you?” Logan questions desperately. Ever so carefully he rolls Scott over so they can be face to face, Scott’s glasses sitting crooked on his face. He presses kisses to each spot he can, tracing up Scott’s tears tracks and over his curving smile lines. “How did you end up like this?”

“I’m tired,” Scott murmurs in reply. His eyes have shining purple marks under them, seemingly etched into his skin. Never has Scott ‘runs on three hours of sleep and two cups of coffee’ Summers ever looked so ragged and worse for wear. Logan quickly tucks Scott against himself, resting his chin atop Scott’s head.

“Sleep, Scotty. I got you now. It’s okay, you’re okay. Everything’s okay.”

[iid-smile]

#04 ୨ৎ ⸝⸝ @yueliie ⋆

hi yueeeee! sakura was to be expected 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ and im so sorry this took so long!! 😣 no because i actually teared up reading the message at the end? sorry im a bit of a crybaby but that was actually one of the sweetest things ive ever had said to me (im tearing up again) 6, 19 and 24 are headcanons and 8 is a drabble 😄

#06 🍰 | proposal

sakura is SO shy when it comes to him proposing, and with your personality added onto that? he can barely get his words out

tries to pick the perfect place according to what you like. he takes everything into consideration. you don't like heights? nowhere in the mountains or higher areas. you don't like bugs? nowhere where flies, beetles or ants would like to dwell. he personally wouldn't want to do it somewhere public because the amount of eyes on him would be too much

honestly he might do it at home... one of those cute proposals where you open the front door and see petals leading up to the spot (not his idea, he was pressured)

he has his plan written out step by step, and his mind shuts off when something doesn't go according to it

you need to ease the words out for him, because once he reaches 'marry', it's like he glitches. he looks really cute when he does say it though

his hand shakes so much when he tries to put the ring on you as well, they'd be all clammy and he'd constantly be trying to wipe them dry

high chances of him crying. he's just overwhelmed with emotions, and it's most likely when you hug or comfort him afterwards

#08 🍓 | helping you with your insecurities

yes, you were the one who invited him out here to try some desserts, yet the lonely slice of cake remains untouched on your plate. your fingers fiddle with the spoon in your hand, gradually warming up the metal as you could only admire the sweet treat in front of you.

lately, all of your dates have been cafes or bakeries of some sort, so the side effects of having sugar so often were beginning to make you a little paranoid, physically and mentally.

"...hacchan?" you look up at him, analysing how he rests his chin on his knuckles, looking out at pedestrians crossing by on the sidewalk.

once he hears your voice only then does he turn his head, a natural scowl on his face that he isn't even aware of. "what do you want now?" he grumbles.

your lips swerve left and right over your lips as you stall at asking the question, now placing your elbows on the table. "can you eat this for me?"

he huffs and turns away from you again, a clear flush on his face. "no way. i already ate, i'm full."

"then..." you grin slyly at the scenario already starting to form in your head. you can picture the cute, little moment you'll get with him, him carefully cutting away at the cake, handing you bite sized pieces on the spoon and giggling like lovesick fools. "will you feed it to me? makes me feel guilty doing it myself..."

"h—hah?!" in surprise, his head moves back, but only a second later does he snatch the spoon out of your hand, moving the plate of cake closer to the center of the table. "you're the one who wanted it, so don't say stupid things like that!"

"but—"

if it's possible for bright red to get brighter, then that's what's happening now. "just eat it, yue! i don't care!" his teeth grit together, starting to shovel huge chunks straight into your mouth, barely leaving you enough time to chew. there's practically steam coming from his nostrils as he tries to bear with the heat.

you can only hum with delight, just the action of him feeding you managing to send you into such bliss that you ignore the amount of aggression. once you get the time to breathe, you use the tissues provided to wipe the crumbs on your face. meanwhile, sakura clearly went into overdrive, palms coming to hide his face as he tries to steady his breath.

he's trying his best. and he also loves you no matter what you eat.

#19 🍦 | random habits

looking behind him when he walks

this is your fault btw

he's gotten so used to you sneaking up on him from behind that he gets paranoid when it doesn't happen

hates it the most when you're the one walking in front, yet he still feels as if there's someone behind him

apparently, he has to have his shoulder pressed against yours, purely for the sake of being at ease

going out of his way to show that he cares in painfully obvious ways

i do believe that sakura used to be afraid of bugs, but he forced himself to get over it for your sake. it's clear when he's scared and when he's not anyways, so he's not hiding anything (he thinks he is)

he probably read romance mangas obsessively to see what you might like.

copies what he sees other couples do too, to the point where it looks really unnatural

holding onto your sleeve

okay, both of you need to hold on to each other

his temper is a little better than yours, but you're both very prone to getting riled up at minor inconveniences and interactions

he hates it when you get into trouble, especially tor his sake

trying to be the best partner he can and protect you from danger <3

speaking the same amount as you

simple. if you talk, he'll talk. if you're silent, he's silent

he isn't the best at reading people, and isn't too sure when your silence is normal or if you're upset

he wouldn't ask you about it either way unless he knows it's something bad, so it's up to you to reassure him that you're okay, or tell him something's up

#24 🍦 | when they're jealous

sakura realllyyyyy tries to hold it in. he wants to avoid conflict when he's around you, especially if he knows that said person he saw you with didn't mean to make any moves on you

you can 100% tell when he is jealous though. either he can't keep his eyes off you, or he avoids your gaze like crazy. red ears are also a dead giveaway, and closed off body language like crossed arms

if you ask him about it, it comes out like opening a dam for the first time in ages. once he starts, he can't stop

he already gets incredibly flustered by even the most simple things, so jealousy is also common

if there had to be a time where he got really jealous for a silly reason, it was probably a time in summer where taiga killed a bug that was crawling on you

one thing tumbled into another when you ask him about it, and starts rambling about how taiga's muscles are all for show, and he can crush bugs even better than him, things like that

he can sound so sulky about it too, mumbling, looking down at the ground and everything. imagine how puffy his cheeks would get!

gets really embarrassed afterwards about how unreasonable he was acting

event masterlist

[moonchildstyles]

announcement/sneak peek

ahhhhhhhhh I'm so excited to be announcing another series for you guys! imdoing this a little different in that im not quite as far written out this time as I usually am but that does open up the possibility of you guys kind of helping me mold and shape some of this story! there might be moments where something you might message me or comment that could inspire something for an upcoming part! while im a little nervous that im not as preplanned out as usual, these possibilities make me so excited!

but anywayyyyyy starting August 18th I'll start posting the new series here on Tumblr! im still working on naming it so shfhusfhsuhf but its a bodyguard h fic! y/n is a tabloid bunny/socialite who's father believes she needs more guidance in the form of a security detail and harry has been tasked w the job! I also have a Pinterest board up for it that you can take a look at if you want to get an idea of what I have in store and what kind of characters we have! below I have a sneak peek for you guys!

On my patreon rn though, there is an extended sneak peek up and the new series will begin being posted next Friday, August 5th! they will be getting early access of 2 weeks before Tumblr and will get the first chance to help me plan some of the unfinished parts of the story! if you're at all interested in taking a look at the story a bit early or what to get involved some, pleaseeeee WAIT to sign up for patreon until august 1st! that way, it'll keep you from getting charged back to back right away!

super excited to be posting this as this is the most ive posted series wise like ever so thank you guys for taking the time to read nad be supportive and yeah! thank you!

lmk if you have any questions or anything!!

—————

"Remember when we decided you wanted extra guidance, (Y/N)?" her dad asked, bleached white smile on his face, "After everything with Damien recently?" 

Ice touched her spine as she took in his sticky sweet words. She knew where this meeting was going now. 

As much as he tried to hide behind the "we" words and his fake smile, (Y/N) knew this wasn't some investor sitting beside her now. 

Harry was her new cage. 

"I remember," she offered, her own voice sounding far away. 

"Well," he continued with a flourish leaning over his desk with his elbowed propped on the wood, "Harry, here, is that guidance we were looking for.  He used to work for Camila and Monroe as their head of security, but he's agreed to be your personal bodyguard until you're back on track." He looked too proud of himself as he spoke. "He's going to take good care of you, sweetie."  

Bodyguard. 

Her personal bodyguard. 

When her father pitched this whole idea and sent her to her room like a child, she honestly figured it would be another handler he would find for her. While it wasn't ideal, she knew she could deal with a handler. She could deal with an uppity woman bossing her around from a distance; she could deal with painting a facade and adhering to her father's guidelines through a handler. 

But, a bodyguard—or personal security, as he so delicately put it—was a different story. 

Harry would be tasked with following her everywhere. He'd have access to her home, access to the person she was around her friends, who she was around her father. Downtime would no longer be a thing with Harry around—recovery and privacy being thrown out. 

Francesca had a bodyguard when they were teenagers. Though it was only over the summers when they weren't away at school, those months he was present were... odd to (Y/N). He wasn't a mean man, but he was always there. Franny wasn't as bothered as she was, but (Y/N) felt like there was no privacy—no space to talk to her best friend about anything. He was always there listening, watching, and anticipating any need for protection. She felt exposed in his presence, no secrets truly secret or downtime when someone constantly had eyes on them. 

If this arrangement was anything like that, (Y/N) didn't know if her sanity was going to survive these months. 

Despite her insides beginning to churn, her glossy-lipped smile stayed in tact with stiff cheeks. "Wow! That's amazing!" 

Her performance must have been subpar if the way her father flashed his gaze at her, a glance that hardened a little too much. She needed to be trying harder, was what he was telling her. She wasn't being perfect like he wanted. 

"I've already warned him about your history of outbursts," her father said, a stealthy jab at her, "and, we discussed everything with Damien. I think he's up for the challenge." 

It was an interesting feeling being called a "challenge" by her own father, knowing he must have shared much more degrading comments behind he back disguised as warranted advice. It was all preparation, he probably thought. A proper warning. 

She shoved that feeling down—whatever that feeling was called—and instead focused n her role. As long as she bubbled, chirped, and smiled, she could get out of this room sooner rather than later. 

"Good," she said, a breathy laugh floating out with her voice, "I'll try not to give you any surprises, then." Looking to Harry, she leaned into her persona and played along. He didn't glance at her once, keeping his gaze forward on her father as if he were watching a movie. 

"There won't be any surprises, actually, right (Y/N)?" her father said, a tad too sharp under his act. 

"Right," she settled, calming under the weight of the room. 

Silence settled over, neither she nor her father plucking up the words while Harry stayed an observing pillar. 

This was her opening. If she acted fast, she could get out of here before either of them could stop her. 

"It was really nice to meet you, Harry," she said politely, her fingers curling around the arms of her chair, "Thank you for coming to work with us. I actually have early breakfast plans with Fran tomorrow morning back in the city, so I should probably start hea—" 

"Actually," her father cut her off sharply, his eyes hardening as they landed on her, "I was hoping you would stay for dinner tonight, sweetie. After Harry and I finish ironing out his contract, I wanted to talk to you some more before he officially started with you." 

Instinctively, she wanted to fight him on this. Spending another night here less than a month after the last time she had a breakdown here wasn't on the top of her list of wants, currently. But, knowing there was someone here already expecting the worst from her, forced her to settle. If she talked back it would only reinforce everything her father probably spouted off about her earlier. 

"Okay," she smiled, standing to her feet before inching towards he door, "I'll wait in my room then and give you guys some privacy." 

While her father offered a small dismissal to her in the form of a stuff smile and a promise to call her for dinner, Harry didn't bother to look twice at her. She didn't waste a moment before she was rushing back to her room. She didn't care if they could hear the pacing of her heels over the floors, knowing she was all but running away from that room. 

After twisting the lock on her bedroom door, (Y/N) collapsed onto her bed. Her breathing was uneven, chest rising and falling a little too fast for her head to stay clear. Pinpricks of static began to dance on her palms, fingertips beginning to go numb. A hole began to develop in the pit of her stomach. 

This might be one of the last real moments of alone time for the next couple of months, and she was spending it on the verge of a panic attack. 

(Y/N) knew her dad didn't trust her, but to have someone on his payroll who's only purpose was to follow her around stung more than she was willing to admit. She wasn't a stupid child despite how much he wanted to believe that. 

[einshi]

name. geese.

pronouns. she/her or they/them

preferred comms. tumblr ims work, discord for deeper plot and twitter.

name of muse. satoru michael liu xiao satoru kogami suguru kaiser gojo the second

experience in RP. so there was this vampire knight community where i wrote zero for about a year or two and then moved to death note where i played mikami for another couple years, it was mostly forum-based rps and when i found out about tumblr wrote midorima shintaro for years and then rohan kishibe, leone abbacchio, risotto nero, chrollo, yomo, xanxus, byakuran, ogata all at the same time and then took like 3 years of break and came back with geto but also met kaiser and was like why not so now im hopping from geto to this multi to kaiser and whatever i feel like writing. my maths arent adding though but just know ive been rpying since i was 12 and unsupervised.

best experiences. writing golden kamuy with my friend spice who's no longer on tumblr! i feel like my writing improved a lot while exploring ogata's character — in fact i think he's my favorite muse that i've written ever, for anyone who doesn't know about GK please read it ! it's such a great manga and ogata one of the best written characters ever and jsyk he was ranked 7th for the 4th consecutive year in the yumejoshi top. another great experience was getting back to rp this year! i got to meet a lot of new people and made new friends who are also obsessed with geto.

pet peeves / dealbreakers. duplicate jealousy or whatever it's called. i don't really do exclusives because i think everyone writes their own muse differently so it's a big deal breaker for me that someone is unfriendly towards or does't welcome writers of the same muse. uh... aside from that, i don't really know what else. i'm pretty laid back and shrug off a lot of things.

muse preference (angst, fluff + smut). a bit of everything actually! a lot of angst gets too heavy for me eventually, comedy gets tiring, smut also gets old, so you could say i prefer varying there's really no preference. though i do favor character study! love analyzing a character's psyche and their responses, love putting my pookies into situations.

plots or memes. memes are usually better for me but that's because i'm really slow on discord since i'm always working, drawing or at the gym fighting for my life, so plotting privately might get frustrating with me :melt: unless you're really patient or just as busy as me lmao

are you like your muse. gojo just like me fr because we're both obsessed with geto but he should move aside bc he doesnt know what to do with all that but i do I DOOOOOOOO

tagged by / stolen from arthur @trelonkan :^) tagging @12reset @hourdive @psielapki @tearenola @cursedfell @inverteds @antishaman @hellkings *grabs you*