#may the sun never set
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Im so hungover
Midsummer made me its bitch yesterday apparently
Yay for the summer solstice 😀
#the worst part is that I celebrated with FAMILY#and I feel this shitty today?#help#the nights will be dark in a few weeks and i’m not ready#like at all#I want blue skies 24 hours a day forever#fuck winter#may the sun never set
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❗❗Official Class Swap Sorcerer!Kristen Post Alert❗❗ you can: look at her
#dimension 20#fantasy high#fhjy#kristen applebees#fh class quangle#sorcerer!kristen is uh. Not Home Anymore! she's been couch surfing along with jawbones before freshman year#I think this kinda falls into a slight teen-witch-esque approach which I do like#since I've been pulling from like. matilda and pippi longstocking for these designs. the Exceptional Little Girls kinda genre#it does make her look younger than her peers which I do like. I feel like a big part of sorcerer!kristen's deal is that she's never#taken seriously. frequently treated like she doesn't know what's good for her. fellow adhd havers make some noiseee#but! upon review I feel like there's also a kinda ms. frizzle turn to her design? which like. awesome thats the lesbianism nailed babeyy#the fuckoff giant thermos as arcane focus is a homage to pete conlan but also crucially#if you swing that thing by the cord I think you can take off someone's head easy. I think that's the important thing#her cargo shorts are not of holding but functionally Everything is in there. scrunchies pencils spare gold chapsticks paperclips multitools#tbh I personally love the progression in her design lol she starts out like ''oh this young girl is a bit unkempt'' and#becomes ''oh this person is insane'' by junior year which is really awesome imo. I love that#its just fig left! I mean her freshman year design is pretty much set for me. I just need to figure out the rest#gorgug is kinda aerith in junior year I wonder if I can softly turn fig tifa-ward lol... ooh I have ideas now. this is gonna be fun#but for now. enjoy evening! may we all make like lizard and enjoy sun
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#favorite tropes (1/∞): Rider Gets A Free Hug
#never let me go#utsukushii kare#my beautiful man#even sun#even sun the series#hidden agenda#only friends#only friends the series#favorite tropes#gifset#*#//#originally a 9-piece set but the other shows beat me up one by one#so here are only the ones I refused to give up on#(shoutout to anyone who may remember even sun btw (I don't know why I do))
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raise your hand if you’re feeling personally victimized by daylight savings this year 🙋♀️
#the sun already sets before 4:30 I’m struggling#is it daylight savings or the burnout#the world may never know#bookshelf#bookshelves#shelfie#shelflove#tbr#fantasy books#ya fantasy#fantasy shelves#booklr#books#reader#bookish#mine#bookblr#bookworm#daylight savings
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I think every moment is eternal in its own right and we hold no authority to deny it that status. Even if it is a forever that will escape our memories, it’ll still exist as a forever in the history of time. In the memories of no-one but the Earth itself. In the records kept and made by no-one, where everything is stored for all time to come. No love is lost and no existence truly unacknowledged.
#even the moment that one may spare to read this post; it’ll be a second dedicated forever in the records of time just to this simple post.#fleeting moments of attention and acknowledgement that aren’t so fleeting at all because they still existed and still do in a way.#it is tragic that we must associate a certain event to a date for it to become a joyous occasion. there’ll never be another 1/5/24.#is that not enough for it to be special itself?#one may argue that they have nothing to remember random days by and that is true.#but not every moment of delight and pleasure is to be remembered I think. to be entirely honest with you I barely hold any memory of#literally anything prior to 2022 perhaps.#but that doesn’t mean that those moments didn’t exist or don’t hold their own importance.#because even if I don’t remember and even if any other parties don’t remember. those moments still exist forever in history in a way.#And even if we don’t remember. The earth surely does; right? The ground must remember the weight and shift of our feet as we walked.#I just think it’s bittersweet that even if ‘forgotten’; nothing truly ceases to exist or be truly forgotten because it still existed.#there is a moment dedicated in this world’s history — into matter how short in duration — dedicated entirely to that event.#whether it be something as simple as just going for a week and appreciating the setting sun.#do you understand or do i sound mad.#i don’t know; i have a feeling it might be because my birthday is approaching soon and i’ve had a-lot on my mind.#neutral things mostly so fret not.#i think i need to go for a walk.#✧.*🌹#‘2022’#this is a blatant lie actually I don’t even remember 2023#i am. trying my best to recall my last birthday and nothing seems to be coming up so. do with this what you will.#✧.*🗡️
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U know wgat? I gotta give props to dyslite for making their swk and lemh as twins.
Bc their dynamics fits sm as this rather than in a romantic sense.
Plus! The lemh esper wants swk esper dead. Jusy like the jttw classic ;D
It is so bizarre that sm of swk history gets rewritten in western fandom in favor for lemh. And makes swk OR ANY OF HIS ACTUAL FRIENDS AND COWORKERS BE WORSE THAN THEY ACTUALLY ARE
The lemh favoritism irks me sm—like u completely rework this guy in order for u to like him. Thats no longer lemh—its the better swk who could do no wrong and is emo.
Hmmmm I'm going to actually have to look into what the deal with dyslite is one of these days because I've never played it and am still not sure what's going on there, but I'm glad people are appreciating the "twins who want to kill each other" relationship between the two from the og classic manifesting in other works. Cain and Abel in monkey form <3
#anon answered#monkey critical#yes yes I know the relationship isn't a one to one#but the dynamic of 'guy who wants to kill other guy because of what he has' is a big part of the relationship between both sets of simians#and YEAH remains baffling why so many people decided to toss out literally every part of LEMH's characterization from Xiyouji#in the name of turning him into a shadow the hedgehog clone#though from what I know shadow actually has it better#on account of his entire existence not being defined by an obsession with the guy who ruined his life lol#and yeah rip lego show Sun Wukong#sometimes I think about how apparently involved Chinese creatives wanted him to be more of a proper mentor#and get sad :(#that said it does remain extremely funny how xiyouji SWK does look even better by comparison#he may have smashed more people into meat patties than he can remember#but he never put the entirety of reality into danger in great part through his doofus decisions#and actually was a good mentor to someone too lmao
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i do not remember time change eve kicking my ass like this, this is awful wtf
#personal#I always get fucked by the other one lol#when the sun starts setting at like 4#but this one never does anything to me#is it the babies??#I’ve been so sleepy and moody UGH#I thought it was PMS lol it may be#👎🏻👎🏻👎🏻#I haven’t been able to focus on anythingggggg :((#including writing ☹️#I’ve been able to write every day up to like two days ago#sad#but focusing is so so hard#adhd aside lol
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NOT SO INVISIBLE STRING — GOJO SATORU
synopsis: the universe has a funny way of working. gojo always knew he was destined to be with you and so did others. it just took some time for you to figure that out as well.
content warning(s): FLUFF! eventual smut so 18+ mdni, fem! reader, pining gojo (sooo cute), mutual pining, friends to lovers, unproetected sex, gojo calling you baby multiple times while going innn.
word count: 6.8k zoo wee mama... pls read anyway or i'll d—
SPRING 2008
“So, you’re not gonna miss me? Not even a little?”
An arm was suddenly thrown across your shoulders, leaving you to bear its weight. The press of his uniform stuck to your nape, making his presence all the more difficult to ignore.
Fellow students bustled and sidestepped their way around you two, some even falter in their steps to ogle briefly at the scene unfolding before them.
“Satoru, move!” Shoko— your saviour— jabs Gojo’s side, urging him to budge, but to no avail.
He’s still tethered to your side, twirling around his diploma in his unoccupied hand despite your best efforts to create space between you two. “You’re literally blocking people’s way toward the gates,” she says.
It’s graduation day and the last day of school for the spring semester, bringing the school year to yet another successful end. It also meant that today would be the last time your upperclassmen would walk on school grounds as students.
The sun was beginning to dip behind the many trees surrounding the school, and its marvellous glow cast warm hues of pink and orange that stretched across the sky. Its rays descend onto the school’s campus; setting for a brilliant, comforting atmosphere.
Answering Gojo’s initial question about whether you’d miss him, you avert eye contact with your persistent senior. “I never said that,” your voice teeters between a grumble and a groan riddled with exasperation.
Your eyes sweep the courtyard and you spot a few familiar faces in the crowd. Some are gathered along the steps leading up to the school taking photos to commemorate today. Others linger on campus chatting amongst themselves, and some whack each other with their diploma scrolls while others treat theirs delicately.
And not too far off from where Satoru holds you hostage stood a small crowd of his classmates—specifically, his female classmates— waiting for their chance to bid their goodbyes...
Or stumble out an unprepared confession thrown out in the heat of the moment before they may never see Gojo Satoru again.
Who knows.
All you’re sure of is that they are most definitely throwing you shady death glares from your peripheral.
“Y’know, I’m gonna miss you,” Gojo says, his arm still looped around your shoulders. He has half a mind to drag you away from standing right front and centre in the entranceway and shuffles you off to the side. “All the years we’ve spent together—”
“Two years, by force.”
“— and now we’re being split apart,” he finishes, paying no mind to your sardonic comment. The infliction in his voice prompts you to turn to look at him, only to wind up and see a slight pout tugging at his soft, pink lips. “How ever will we manage?”
You smother down the urge to heave a loud and heavy sigh at the clingy characteristics he’s displaying today and decide to play nice.
Gojo’s always been one to be playful, perhaps even a bit pushy at times but it was all in good nature. However, for some reason, his antics have reached a whole new level today.
Emotions were running high among staff and students alike. Some are more potent and… persistent than others.
“You’ll be fine,” you assure, patting his arm half-heartedly, “and I will certainly be fine. Everything will be just fine.”
In the middle of your sentence from the corner of your eye, you spot another one of your seniors— Geto Suguru. You watch him step out from a conversation with two classmates of yours (Haibara and Nanami) and is now trekking his way over to where you and Gojo occupy the front steps.
“Geto-senpai!”
Geto greets you warmly by placing a comforting hand on your head and gives you a reassuring pat once, then twice. The action leaves your hairstyle a little dishevelled, nonetheless, there’s a small smile tugging at your lips.
You’ve only interacted with Geto a sparse number of times outside of class or at the end of the school day. Whenever you both would cross paths you appreciated how he would regard your presence with temperance. It always left you feeling at ease. You’ll miss him.
You’ll especially miss how he was so quick to offer you and Haibara snacks from the vending machines on campus.
Gojo emits a pathetic squawk at the special name drop.
Pale, white brows are pinched tightly together with faux betrayal. “How come he gets honorifics but I don’t?!” he complains once Geto’s within earshot.
“I see that Satoru's already started…”
Though Geto was talking to no one in particular, Shoko chips in given that she bore witness to Gojo’s incessant pestering toward you ever since the home bell rang. “You missed the part where he blocked her from getting to the lockers for a good several minutes.” Unzipping her bag, she carelessly shoves her diploma into it.
“But anyway, I’m gonna head out for a smoke. I’ll catch you guys later.” Before departing, Shoko stretches her hand towards you and gives your arm an affectionate squeeze. “Get home safe, ‘kay? Don’t let these guys keep you out too long.”
Which reminded you…
“Gojo, this has been fun and all…” Being rag-dolled around by your upperclassman across campus has been anything but fun. “But I really should start heading home now.”
You wanted to beat the rush hour of students and working-class alike trying to go home on a late Thursday afternoon. Looking for empty seats on the 4:25 PM train was brutal and you did not have the energy to stand the entire ride home.
Sensing your air of urgency, he eventually relents. Heaving a dramatic sigh, Gojo steps back a few and gives you some space.
“Gimme a second, yeah?” He rummages around in his uniform pocket, searching for something. It only lasts about a second before he pulls out his flip phone.
“Suguru!” A curt upward nod of Gojo’s head is the only warning Geto gets before he tosses his cell toward his best friend to catch. You’re appalled that he catches it so easily with the little to no notice that was given. “Take a picture of us.”
…Huh?
Your brows drew close-knit together with confusion. “What are y—?!” Before you can even finish your question, you’re pulled tightly into Gojo’s side.
His arms circle your neck once more, but this time, he uses the opportunity of your close proximity to tip his head to the side and knock it against your own.
“Smile,” Gojo murmurs into your ear, his slender fingers pinching at your cheek prodding for you to plaster on a sugary smile for the picture.
You don’t have enough time to register, let alone recover from how his lips faintly brushed against your skin, Gojo’s already obnoxiously yelling “Cheese!” towards the awaiting camera.
Snapping the photo Geto sports a lazy grin admiring his work. “Looks good,” he says before he tosses the phone back to its owner.
You’re still reeling over the gentle graze of Gojo’s lips against your cheek, too dazed to digest what’s going on around you. What. In. The hell. Just happened???
Sputtering out a laugh, Gojo grins down at the image on his phone. “What’s with that face you’re making, huh?”
Eyebrows furrowing, you look up at Gojo curiously. Whatever was in that picture that made him smile that wide couldn’t have been good. “What do you mean?” You question, stepping closer to see what he was referring to on his screen.
Gojo tips his cell over and shows you the photo Geto took. There you both are in grain, Gojo looking the most lively out of you two. Despite the quality of the camera, you can see the proud and happy smile he wears compared to your frazzled and confused expression.
If anything, it looked like you were the one who was graduating and he so happened to snag a photo with you before your big send-off.
“I wasn’t ready…” you grumbled, looking away from his phone.
There’s a faint smile lingering on his face, blue eyes still trained on the screen. His voice's cadence grows warm and carries a small hint of affection.
“That face of yours is what I’m gonna miss the most.”
SUMMER 2009
To no one’s surprise, you and Gojo kept in close contact, even after graduating high school.
Well… More so Gojo kept in contact with you. Consistently.
Whenever he can.
He was there during your spring graduation (shocker), much to the elation of the entire female population from your graduating class. Looking back, the number of times he stopped to pose with random students around the school when he came to greet you was absurd.
You’ll also never forget how loud he cheered when your name was called despite Principal Yaga telling the audience to hold their applause and hollers until after the ceremony.
Fast forward to the summer of ‘09 where Gojo consistently seeks your presence to go and hang out with him now that you have a freed-up schedule. Whether it's with him alone or with Geto and Shoko, you can always rely on him to shoot you a ‘u busy?’ text an hour before dragging you out for the rest of the day.
“Sooo,” you start slowly.
Your eyes skim across the playground, watching the few children who were there amble and climb on the jungle gym before you. The sun was beginning to descend below the skyline, and hues of warm orange press onto your features casting you and your surroundings in a soft glow.
“You’re a… guardian now,” you state, eyeing how Gojo stretches his legs out beside you.
You both sit at a park bench, the chorus of laughter and playful shrieks surround you as you watch Megumi— a kid Gojo now supposedly looks after— poke mindlessly at something buried beneath the playground’s sand.
“Yup!” he chirps, but then it’s swiftly followed by a hesitant, “Well, sorta kinda…”
There’s a mental warfare going on in his mind as he combs through the various explanations he can give you, searching for one that would be both concise and easy for you to digest.
“To put it simply, from here on out I’m going to be a constant in Megumi and Tsumiki’s life.”
You think of the step-sibling duo. They’re the sweetest pair of children you’ve had the delight of coming across, and now…
“They’re doomed,” you say with pity, your gaze still focused on the youngest Fushiguro.
Gojo gasps in disbelief at your bold accusation with his hand flying to his chest, clearly having taken offence. “What’s that supposed to mean?!” he asks.
But before you could give him a smart alec answer, the cheerful exclamation of your name pulls your attention elsewhere. The soft thump of Tsumiki’s shoes approaching prompts you to smile brightly. With open arms, the girl practically throws herself at you and giggles.
You give her cheek an affectionate squeeze. Despite her being in the second grade, you couldn’t help but coddle her. “Why hello, Tsumiki!”
It takes her a few moments to finally release you from the hug, backing up a bit she glances up at you. “Where were you? I missed you on Tuesday, the swings weren’t fun without you!” she says, pouting.
“I wasn’t feeling the best, so I had to turn down Gojo’s invite to meet you guys at the park that day.”
Upon hearing all the commotion, Megumi spots Tsumiki talking to you a few steps from the play area. It prompts the young boy to walk over and join you three at the bench. He nods his head over at his step-sister and says, “She thought you guys broke up.”
Huh?
You blink rapidly. “Broke— Broke up!?” You squawk, the inflection of your voice rising at the ‘up’ part.
Where could she have possibly gotten that idea from? You and Gojo weren’t even dating!
Gathering your composure you plaster on a sweet smile, ready to explain to the young pair that you and Gojo weren’t together like that before a heavy arm comes hunkering down onto your shoulders. “Even if she tried, she can’t get rid of me that easily,” Gojo comments.
Christ.
Tsumiki claps her hands together in glee at this revelation. “Yay! ‘Cause I like you!” she confesses. “I thought I’d have to deal with Gojo and his friend with the big ears pushing me on the swings forever.” And with that, the girl’s already off running to the big yellow slide, pulling Megumi along in her wake.
The sweet smile you wear grows more and more strained the longer you two sit there on that damned bench with Gojo’s arm still lodged around you like it belonged there.
Long delicate fingers drum themselves along your bare shoulder which leaves a tingling sensation that lingers against your skin.
“Gojo Satoru…” you hiss between clenched teeth.
Your hand creeps up to give his knee a mean pinch, but as always, Gojo reads your movements like a damn book and catches your hand in his before that could happen. “Hm?”
“What do you mean ‘Hm’?” You gesture in the general direction of where the kids are playing. You feel your brows start to pinch together. “Why would you tell them that?!”
“It’s true though, no?” Snowy white wisps of hair fall in front of his eyes shaded by his signature round sunglasses. “We haven’t ‘broken up’ and we’re still together. Just not in their understanding of it.”
“You—! That’s not—” You flounder for words, trying to spit out why he can’t go around inadvertently feeding into the imagination of whatever relationship Tsumiki and Megumi thought you two had. But you come up blank.
“You’re irritating, you know that?” you say, as you try (and fail) at removing his arm which still rests comfortably around your shoulders, pressing you tight against him. “You’ll wind up confusing them.”
An easy smile slips onto his lips as he observes Tsumiki and Megumi scramble up the slides. “Relax,” he responds. “They’re smart kids.”
And until it was time for the Fushiguros to go home, there you two sat underneath the thinning ochre sky. Stuck under the guise of an unspoken relationship.
WINTER 2011
Being the “middleman” between two people who are so obviously into each other but cannot figure out how to hang around each other normally was all too common for Shoko.
It’s a shame that Geto wasn’t available to come down and hang out with the three of you tonight, he would’ve revelled in getting a kick out of this expected yet unexpected… turn of events.
Brought in as a buffer between you two, with an unlit cigarette dangling loosely from her lips Shoko leaned back in her chair and watched the buzzing scene before her unfold with bemused eyes.
Underneath the comforting golden glow of the restaurant’s hanging table light, Gojo picks at the cookie dough chunks that litter your plate to which you turn a blind eye. Now, Shoko could’ve easily brushed this occurrence off, seeing that friends often eat from each other's share of food all the time.
But something was... different.
With Gojo seated to your left inside the booth, he neatly cuts up a piece of his soft, creamy cheesecake and leverages the small serving on his spoon. “Here, try some of mine,” he says.
Harmless, right?
So, you reach for your own spoon to retrieve the sample of dessert that he was offering you. But without any hesitation, Gojo lifts his cutlery to your lips and prods the food toward your mouth.
There was no way that he intended on doing this right here, right now. In front of Shoko especially.
“Say, ‘Ahhh’!”
Concern creases your brow when Gojo continues to press the spoon against your lips, idly humming as he waits for you to open your mouth so he can spoon feed you as if he were your mother. A delicate, yet sure hand cupping your chin and everything.
He was being serious.
From your peripheral, you catch the slow spread of a Cheshire-like grin creeping onto Shoko’s face.
You press your fingers onto Gojo’s wrist and frown. Trying to retreat from his hand, a peal of nervous laughter bubbles out from you at his display of reckless affection at the table. “Give me a br—”
Gojo uses the opportunity of your uncertain state to slip his sharing of the Japanese cheesecake into your mouth in the middle of your sentence. Your eyes widen a small fraction at its creamy taste, prompting him to comment, “It’s good, right?”
The cigarette threatens to slip from Shoko’s mouth, as her lips slightly gape at what just happened before they curve into a soft smile. Her brown eyes are warm with… something. It’s as if she knew something that you didn’t.
“Ehhh…” Is all she says before you’re already jumping down her throat to clear up any misunderstandings.
“It’s nothing!” you supply in a rushed manner. Your main objective was to simply imply that this was nothing for her to lose her head over. Hell, even the friendliest of friends feed each other all the time! Right?
But at your remark, Gojo’s mouth downturns into a cute little pout. “What do you mean, ‘nothing’?” From the corner of your eye you glance at how he’s fixed another spoonful of the dessert, and it's hovering in your direction.
“Sato—” Fuck.
You quickly correct yourself on your mistake, and school your voice to have a bit more edge to it. Despite that, you don’t overlook how hard Gojo’s beaming at you. “Gojo, not now.”
“Ehhh?” Shoko exclaims once again, but this time the cadence of her voice has changed. It’s gained an amused note to its tune. “You call him Satoru now? Since when?”
“I’ve been begging her to use it for the longest time ever,” Gojo answers on your behalf, and he ignores your mutter for him to please stop talking in favour of jabbing an accusatory finger at you. “You know how painful it was to see you be all chummy and on a first-name basis with everyone but me?”
Lord. You’ve forgotten how dramatic he could be.
There’s a teasing glint in Shoko’s eye that you quite don’t like, and her lips purse heavy with consideration at his comment. “You make him beg?”
Groaning, you cross your arms against the table and bury your face. You can’t with them. Your two former upperclassmen were the bane of your existence right about now.
“I’ll kill you both,” you mutter, your speech muffled by the fabric of your sweater.
A FEW YEARS LATER
A calming blue nightly glow ripples through your curtains, casting your room in nothing but moonlight. Amidst the serene silence, you idly stare at your screen and read the text Satoru sent you right as the clock struck midnight.
Satoru: Are you home?
What an ominous question. Your eyes skim over his message again. And then again.
…And again.
Thumbing through your phone, you glance at the time displayed on the top of your screen. It’s been five minutes since you’ve opened his text. You should probably send something back soon before he quintuple texts you.
As you’re about to respond right when Satoru immediately shoots you another.
Satoru: I KNOW you see this!!! ( `ε´ )
Satoru: Hurry hurry hurry
You: yes... why?
Now it’s his turn to take a while to respond. First, it takes a couple of minutes for you to receive that pinging chime; indicating that he’s texted you back— which isn’t too bad because you like to consider yourself a pretty patient person.
But then five minutes slowly turn into ten, and that ten becomes a whopping fifteen until finally he answers.
Satoru: Open your door.
What the fuck.
Satoru: Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepl
So that’s why he took so long to reply. The man was coming all the way down from his place to come and visit you!
You: you're actually insane.
You: hold on!
Rising from your seated position on your bed, you stalk over to your bedroom door and are about to exit when you spot yourself in a nearby mirror.
“Oh!” you exclaim to no one in particular. You can’t open the door for him looking like… this.
Wait, why do you care about what Satoru thinks of your clothes?!
He’s seen you wearing much worse. Like that one instance in first-year, when you had to borrow Geto’s spare parachute pants because Haibara accidentally spilt his soda all over your lap during an informal outing with everyone.
Yeesh.
Shaking your head, you slip out of your room and pad down your apartment hallway wearing your discoloured oversized band tee and shorts. Upon reaching your door, your hand hesitates on the doorknob.
It stays like that for a few seconds until the doorknob is rattled in a fashion that’s all too persistent, annoying, and all from—
“Satoru!” you hiss, swinging the door open. You’re ready to chew him out on how much of a nuisance he may be for your sleeping neighbours a few doors down. But your looming reprimand falls short on your tongue once your eyes take in the man facing you.
“Happy birthday!”
In the darkness, the soft glow of sparklers illuminates your features and highlights the exquisite details of a beautifully decorated cake held in Satoru’s hands.
Wordlessly, your hand aimlessly searches for the light switch to brighten up your hallway so that you may get a better look at what’s on the cake.
Something trembles in your chest and it hurts a little to breathe. But not in the way that you detest.
He’s cute.
Gojo Satoru is so heartbreakingly cute.
On the cake, you see that damn grainy photo you two took on his graduation day back in ‘08. The photo you love to hate.
Wetness springs to your eyes from the entire gesture, from the fact that he ensured he was the first one through text and physically to wish you a happy birthday, and from the fact that he’s here right now.
“Hey…” There’s concern creasing Satoru’s expression as he pokes his head down a little to get a better read on you. “Are you crying?”
You sniff back your tears and grunt out a watery, “No… Shut up and come in already.”
Ushering him inside, Satoru hands you your cake, toes off his shoes and heads straight to your living room. Good to see that he’s already making himself at home.
Plopping himself down onto your couch you hesitantly follow behind him, suddenly feeling like a stranger in your own home. “Come, come!” He waves a welcoming hand at you and pats the seat beside him, insinuating that you should sit.
With immediate interest, you do as he says and take a seat beside him after you position your cake in the middle of your coffee table. The couch feels so small now, with him spread out like that.
Pulling out something from his pocket with one hand and tugging off the party hat from his head with the other— had he been wearing that the whole time?— Satoru clears his throat. “Before you cry again, I gotta make sure you’re able to see your present first.”
He takes your head in his hands, and you realize his fingertips are a little cold as they press on your warm cheeks. Stretching the string down from the party hat a bit, he places it under your chin and snaps the cardboard cone into place on your head.
Breathing a noise of satisfaction seemingly content with how you look, a cheeky grin dances across Satoru’s face. “Perfect. You can now go ahead and open your gift,” he says, handing you a small black velvet box with the company logo HW scrawled across it.
“Wait, what,” you deadpan.
This can’t be what you think it is.
“It’s not a ring!” Satoru blurts. But composes himself seconds later with a quip of, “Unless you want it to be?”
Har. Har. Very funny.
You disregard what he’s said and peel open the box with caring hands.
Inside was the most extravagant necklace you’ve ever laid eyes on. A diamond pendant laid bare inside the box in the shape of a forget-me-not with your birthstone at the flower's centre.
That could’ve easily cost him a little over one million yen if you think about it deeply.
“Satoru!” you squeal.
Without thinking, you throw your arms around his neck and squeeze your longtime friend into your loving embrace. Satoru’s gift to you almost topples and sinks into the crevice of your couch had it not been for his quick hand to catch the necklace.
Your heart’s racing, and initially, his body goes rigid until he gradually relaxes under your hold. “You’re crazy, ’s too expensive!” you sparingly chastise him.
Satoru swallows hard and brings a careful arm up to reciprocate the hug. You feel the warm press of his arm against the thin material of your shirt.
“Nothing’s too expensive if you’re involved,” you hear him murmur into your ear. “So, don’t worry ‘bout it.”
You give him one last bone-crushing squeeze, hoping that your rare show of physical touch does not go unnoticed and exemplifies how grateful you are. Pulling away from him you look him dead in the eyes. “Thank you, seriously.”
Shrugging you off like it was no big deal as if he didn’t blow double, maybe even triple the money the average Japanese businessman earns on a singular paycheque toward your necklace, Satoru casts you a gentle smile and changes the subject.
There would be no need to dwell on it any longer with what’s to come.
“Now…” He gives your lower back a soft pat. Once, and twice. “A birthday kiss from the birthday girl.” Satoru puckers out his lips and shuts his eyes real tight, making a huge show out of it.
For extra effect, he even hums a prolonged Mmm-ing sound to emphasize him waiting for you to initiate it.
It’s a joke; you know he’s joking. He has a ridiculously long history of being overly affectionate with his teasings and whatnot.
But this time, you really do lean in and take said kiss from him.
There’s something incredibly adorable about this kiss that has your heart surging in your chest. Partly because it’s the first time that you’re kissing each other, but mostly because of how frigid and careful it is. It made you feel as if you were in high school all over again, trying a plethora of new things for kicks and giggles.
The tension was almost palpable, thick enough to suffocate the air he breathed. Even when you pulled away creating space between you both, Satoru still felt a lingering lump in his throat.
Cracking your eyes open, you see that Satoru’s own are blown wide. Piercing cerulean eyes stare unblinking at you. Normally, you would’ve found that to be off putting as hell, had it not been for the slow rise of a blooming pink crawling up his neck.
“Sorry,” you offer weakly. Sensing that you may have gone too far, you make an effort to scoot off his lap. But a determined arm holds you in place.
“Again.” He swallows thickly, and your eyes follow that mesmerizing movement in his throat. “I… I didn’t do it right. Please.”
And who are you to make him beg? So, you do as he says.
Leaning in, your lips press against Satoru’s once more. And this time, he has the sense to close his eyes and bask in it, not daring to let his nerves get the best of him (though he’d never admit it).
Slotting yourself to be more flushed against him, the tips of your noses brush and you feel Satoru’s hand smooth down your spine. The pads of his fingertips press onto your exposed skin peeking out from underneath the hem of your shirt bunched around your hips.
God, you wanted him bad.
It’s abrupt, the way you push yourself off him and force yourself to stand on your feet, breaking the kiss. The rise and fall of your chest is a bit staggered and Satoru’s is too. He’s all red-faced and his snow-white hair is a bit dishevelled, considering how many times you’ve combed your fingers through it.
“Did I do something wrong?”
Cute.
That alone made you want to jump his bones even more.
You shake your head and get one good look at him before you leave him to head down your hallway. He looked perpetually enraptured by you, eyes hyper-focused on your every movement. “Come to my bedroom.”
Satoru’s stunned, the implications of your remark not lost on him.
And like a keen lost puppy, of course he follows. He joins you in your bedroom seconds after you and stands in the doorway, just kind of hovering there. Not sure of what to do.
Wait. Did he come here too fast? Did that make him look overly desperate? A million and one questions rush through Satoru’s mind as his neck grows red, stained with embarrassment, want… arousal.
Seeing how he seems to be short-wiring at your doorway, you beckon him to join you on the bed with your hand. Once he does, he sits extremely close next to you. His clothed thigh brushes against your bare one, which sends a jolt of electricity through you.
Your fingers find his nape once again and they stroke up on his fresh undercut, prompting him to shiver a bit. “Why’re you so shy all of a sudden?” you question, your voice going gentle with a provoking edge to it.
Gaining some of his personality back, Satoru pinches your cheek. “‘Cause I didn’t think you’d want to kiss me!” But his mean hand then turns soft and slides along your jaw, his thumb rubbing smooth circles into the skin just below your ear.
“Well, I’m here,” you say, scooting impossibly closer to the man beside you, “and wanting.”
Message received.
Hauling you onto his lap, Satoru cradles your face in both hands and kisses you deeply. It’s full of emotion, expressing all the things he’s been wanting to say for the longest time. A trembled exhale escapes you, and it’s through that that Satoru uses the opportunity to slide his tongue alongside yours.
The kiss is frenzied, but so filled with love.
“So you like me?” he asks, his breathing laboured.
“Yes,” you bite, pushing him away from you and onto the mattress. “As if swapping spit with you wasn’t enough.” You guess you’ll have to show him how much you undoubtedly like him, love him even, through other means.
He huffs a breath of laughter and drops his back onto your bed. Underneath you, you see Satoru’s eyes sparkle as he watches you have your way with him.
But something’s up.
His eyes climb up a little higher and this time, he barks out a real laugh.
You still have that piece of fuck sitting on your head. You probably look stupid as hell right now.
Discerning that you’re about to raise your hand to your head, Satoru holds your wrist in his palm. There’s something bright that gleams behind those alluring pools of blue, warm and tender. He bites back a smile. “The birthday hat stays on during sex.”
You scrunch your nose at him. “You’re so dumb,” you growl with artificial frustration and tear off the cone-shaped hat from your head, tossing it into the depths of your room. He whines at its loss, but you’re quick to placate him with a slow roll of your hips into his lap.
Satoru’s jaw clenches and his hands fly to your waist, gripping you tightly as you continue to grind yourself down onto his erection. Your ministrations pull a wanton whimper from his lips, one that has you grinding with more purpose— the purpose of hearing that sound again.
“Do you like that?” you ask.
He nods, not trusting himself to speak, else he’ll let out a pathetic string of moans.
“I know, me too.” Satoru’s dick lurches in the confines of his pants as he watches you dry-hump him into the mattress slowly, your eyes shining with lust. Fuck, he could get hard just off your expression alone. “It feels reeeally nice being up on you like this,” you continue.
You have a fucking dirty mouth. One that Satoru’s growing more and more addicted to the more you speak.
There’s an incessant throbbing between your legs that you can’t quite alleviate. While rolling your hips into Satoru’s lap— with his occasional thrust to match your movements— felt good, it can only do so much. You wanted and needed more.
And so did Satoru, because he’s already pulling at the waistband of his pants. His thumb loops two layers and tugs both his pants and boxers down, revealing his toned V-line.
Fuck.
You fall victim to Satoru’s enamoured gaze from below, which makes you squirm hot with arousal. “Take it off,” he commands.
He wants you to strip him of his clothes.
Caught taking a startled breath, you ignore the wicked, handsome smile that slinks onto his face as you slip off his lap so you may curl your fingers around his waistband and pull. Your pussy clenches when his erect dick springs into view, and the heat pumping through your veins runs a little hotter.
You shiver at how pretty and filling his dick looks. After a few seconds of openly ogling at his lap, Satoru clears his throat which successfully gets you to drag your eyes back up to his face.
“While that was nice,” he starts, leveraging himself up onto his elbows and grins at your cute error, “I meant you, baby. Take it off.”
“Oh.”
Seriously? Just ‘Oh’?
Mentally facepalming, you shimmy your shorts down your legs along with your panties. They pool down at your ankles and you step out of them to stand between his legs.
Fully sitting up, Satoru pats his lap; encouraging you to sit on him again. “C’mere.”
You crawl onto his lap, but you don’t sit down fully. Hovering a few inches away from his cock, your knees press on each side of his thighs, trapping him in.
There’s no way in hell you were gonna sit down right now, knowing that if you do, you’d be pressing your bare pussy onto his naked thigh and he’d feel everything. Exposing how wet you are.
Humming, Satoru lifts the hem of your oversized top to your breasts and sighs. “Pretty,” he murmurs before he leans forward and captures your nipple into his mouth.
You gasp harshly at the titillating feeling. Your hands balance on his shoulders for support, as he rolls your nipple on his tongue.
“Sa— Ah!” You cry out. The hand between your legs startles you and has you whimpering in the open air.
“You’re wet,” he comments, slipping a finger against your slick pussy.
“Shut up about it…”
But he doesn’t. Another finger joins the first and delves down between your lips, gradually easing them inside you. They push against your walls, curling in a way that has you gasping into his neck. “You got wet from grinding alone, huh?”
A breath stutters out of your mouth and you rock yourself against his hand. You can’t take this anymore. You want more. “Do you have a condom?” you ask.
“I—” he groans when your hand slides between you two, your fingers curl around his dick and stroke his tip along your leaking slit. “I didn’t bring one, because I didn’t think we’d—”
Oh.
Biting your bottom lip, you sling a heavy arm across Satoru’s shoulders. You meet his hungry gaze with one of your own and inch closer toward his dick that rests against his stomach. What you’re about to do could be risky, but at this given moment you couldn’t find it in you to be overly stressed about it.
“No worries,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, “I trust you enough to pull out in time.” And like that, you push down on him and ease Satoru’s cock into your aching cunt, making him bottom out inside you completely.
You’re so wet and slippery that it took little to no effort for him to slide inside. The noise of your slick sticking to where you two meet at the hips has you two moaning softly in unison.
The harsh mutter of your name echoes off your bedroom walls and goes straight to your cunt. “So tight,” he grits out behind clenched, white teeth.
Each time you slide up and down on his cock, Satoru grows more unrestrained with his vocal appreciation of how well you take him. Desperate little moans escape him each time your sweet cunt squeezes him of all he’s worth.
You were no better. Choppy, broken whimpers can be heard from you, loving how he stretches your walks with your length. He fits perfectly inside you like your cunt was destined for this moment, for him alone.
“Let me fuck you,” Satoru blurts out. He was losing it, and he could feel him tipping closer and closer to the edge of release.
“You are— Ugn!” you say weakly when his hands grab your ass and he stands, lifting you with him as if it were nothing. Kicking off his bottoms, Satoru props you on your back against your mattress.
Crawling between your legs, he positions the crown of his cock to press against your opening. “No,” he drawls, with one hand on the base of his shaft and the other propped beside your head. “Let me fuck you.”
He pushes in and you swear you see stars.
Satoru pistons himself faster and faster inside of you, rocking your bodies against the mattress which makes your wooden headboard tap noisily against your drywall.
You fear your neighbours may have some… less than pleasant words to share with you about the noise tomorrow morning.
“Ah! Fuuucking— shit!” You wail. Euphoric tears start prickling at the corner of your eyes. “Don’t stop, please!”
The pleasure melts through you when Satoru presses down harder into you, his hand finding the back of your right knee and hikes your leg around his waist so that he can fill you at a new angle.
“Baby,” he murmurs into your neck. He says it like you’ve been his for years. “Say my name.”
“S—Satoru!”
Laughing a little, probably too fucked out of his mind, Satoru removes his face from your neck and presses a hot, searing kiss onto your lips.
You yelp when he drives his cock more harshly into you, growing more desperate with the urgency to come inside you.
Riding his high, Satoru says the first thing that comes to mind, which is a long drawn-out, “Haaa…”
What Satoru meant to accomplish was to wish you another ‘Happy Birthday’, but of course, it all gets garbled up in his throat due to his approaching orgasm and comes out sounding fucking obscene.
That’s what gets you.
You come hard, your back bowing off the bed. Satoru, remembering your initial statement about how you trust him to pull out, does exactly that. Albeit, he did it at the very last second, but you avoided a pregnancy scare. So you can’t be mad.
Thick ropes of his cum splash across your bare belly and some get on your top. You’re hyperaware of how it trickles down your abdomen, some dipping into your belly button.
Wow.
Breathing hard and heavy, both coated in sweat among… other sensual fluids, Satoru rolls onto his back.
“Stuck with me for life, huh?” he asks, delicate fingers intertwined with yours.
You hum. “Seems so…” you agree quietly.
Now that you think about it, there hasn’t ever been a moment where Gojo Satoru hadn’t been present in your life, ever since meeting him during your high school days.
You two lay like that for some time, soaking in each other’s company until the early traces of morning light ripple through your curtains.
You’re about ready to shut your eyes until your thoughts are accosted by something you offhandedly forgot.
“Satoru?” you begin, tone nice and sweet.
“Hm?”
You sit up slowly so you can peer down at his blissed-out face. “By chance, was the cake you got for me made out of ice cream?”
You know how deep his love for sweets goes. You just pray and hope to whatever higher power that he chose the safe route and chose a normal ca—
“…Yeah, why?”
Jumping out of bed, you rush to the living room where the cake is probably spilling its guts out all over your expensive, mahogany coffee table. “You IDIOT!”
A string of curses follows you out into the hallway, as Satoru sits on your bed confused.
“What’d I do?!”
Whether you liked it or not, you were stuck with this bumbling idiot if he had any say in the matter, an invisible string keeping you two bound.
And maybe it wasn’t that bad.
Even if it’s at the cost of your ¥20,000 table.
if you read to the end we're making out.
© do not copy/plagiarize/translate/use ai on my work.
#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#satoru x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo fluff#gojo smut#jjk smut#jjk fluff#divider by cafekitsune#sahkuna!
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Sukuna has never said no to you.
It didn’t matter what the request was, simple or complicated, easy to fix or a days-long job, Sukuna was always at your side, completing the task as fast as he needed to to keep you satisfied. He would love to deny it, you’re sure, but evidence proves time and time again that he puts your needs and wants at the top of his priority list.
And you were curious how far you could go with it.
The two of you are sitting in your underwear at the breakfast nook, warming yourselves in the bay window while the morning sun starts on the leftover night time chill. It wasn't quite time for breakfast, still too early for the both of you. In the meantime, you sip on your morning brews, preserving the comfortable silence. Sukuna is flipping through the day's newspaper, his eyes are groggy with sleep and he hasn't said more than a handful of words to you yet. He wasn't a morning person.
You were starting to change that.
"Kuna," You call to him, nudging him with your foot from your corner of the window bench.
"Hmm?" He doesn't look up from the paper, but his hand reaches down and grabs your foot, pulling it into his lap. His thumbs start to subconsciously knead at your muscles.
"I want these." You hold up your phone, which you had previously been scrolling through in an attempt to find something ridiculous for this exact moment. You were sure you had found it, something even Sukuna would find unnecessary.
And yet, he merely glances at your screen, takes in the sight for all of two seconds, and then returns his attention to whatever news article he was in the middle of.
"My wallet's on the counter." He clears the sleep from his throat not sparing a second look.
You blink at him in surprise.
"D-Did you even see what it is?" You flip your phone around to make sure you were displaying the correct thing.
Sukuna is frowning before he looks up again, curious at your persistence. He gently cups your hand, bringing it only a minuscule amount closer to examine your screen a second time.
You were on one of the most luxurious brand’s websites, showing him an incredibly regular pair of panties, no straps, no details, all black- with one of the most outrageous price tags you had ever seen for something so ordinary.
Sukuna cocks a brow at you over your phone, "Can't imagine you need more panties when you're constantly stealing my boxers. But whatever, hand it over. I know my card number-"
"Kuna," You interrupt him with a surprised laugh, holding fast to your phone when he tries to pluck it out of your hands, "they're a thousand dollars."
He glances back, his eyes focusing lower on the screen where you know the price tag to be. The newspaper in his hands drops down, momentarily forgotten by what he sees. For a moment, you think you've found his limit.
"Wait, are those red one's assless?" He points just below the price, where the recommended products are depicted. "Get those too."
You drop the phone down so that he meets your eyes, which are wide with shock.
Sukuna always took care of you. Always insisted on being the provider of any single thing that you may need; a warm meal, a soft bed, anything your eyes twinkled at that was available for purchase- even if you would never think of buying or owning it. Granted, you never wanted much in terms of material possessions, so you didn't realize the true extent of Sukuna's leniency until now.
It was slightly intimidating, and part of it felt wrong. Sukuna had money, plenty of it, but that didn’t mean he should feel the need to spend copious amounts of it on you just because you could ask him to. He was giving you too much power, it felt like.
You huff through your nose, frowning at him, which only has him tilting his head further to the side in question.
You ignore it, setting your phone onto the window seat and crawling your way closer to him, until you can gather up his face in your hands and lock his gaze into yours.
He glares at you past smushed cheeks, but doesn't make a move to break free of your hold, humoring you. "The hell are you doing-"
"You know you don't always have to say yes to me?"
Now that has him taken aback. His mouth automatically opens for a witty response, but your question seems to have effectively taken the words from his mouth. You can see the cogs in his head turning, and what you wouldn't give to peer inside his mind and hear his thoughts.
It takes him a moment, but eventually that familiar confident smile stretches across his sleepy face. His hands seem to instinctively slide their way up your bare legs until his fingers grip your hip bones, pressing into you.
He hums, "When have you ever said no to me?"
You scoff, ready to give him a prime example, but end up coming up short. The two of you loved to tease each other with disobedience, but in the end you were eager to give Sukuna anything his heart desired. You loved to please him, it was one of your favorite things to do, in fact.
"You never ask anything ridiculous of me." You remind him, smiling as one of his warm hands slides back down your waist and dips into the pair of his boxers you were sporting that day.
"You know what's ridiculous?” His voice wraps around your throat, and suddenly has you swallowing past the delicious grip. You're folding into him before you even realize it, at the mercy of his calloused hands. "The implication that I wouldn't do just about anything for you."
You can't help but sigh hopelessly, although it comes out as a desperate noise that pleads him for more. You really were all his, just like he loved to tell you.
"Now hand me your phone." It's a whisper, coaxing you. "I wanna see you in red."
You can’t say no.
At least it was mutual.
#jjk#jjk x reader#sukuna x reader#sukuna#ryomen sukuna#kuna is a feral dog in the eyes of anyone that isn't you#you bring out the puppy love in this psycho#careful#he bites#this was a short and sweet#fluff
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❝ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ❞
❝ SATORU GOJO IS THE HONORED ONE - AND HE'S MORE THAN HONORED TO BREED YOU ! ❞
✧ pairing: gojo satoru x sorcerer!reader
✧ summary: it's your duty as the wife of the clan head to help your husband get dressed -- even for battle. but that didn't mean he couldn't spend some time undressing you. aka fucking gojo in his shinjuku showdown outfit
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, canon compliant, feral gojo, Ijichi featured, dom!gojo, breeding kink, dirty talk, oral (f), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), mirror sex, clothed sex, creampie, implied multiple rounds, multiple positions, swearing,
✧ w/c: 7,946
✧ now playing: feature one of sab's kinktober
“Perfect,”
The word slips from your lips without a second thought as you slip the haori over his shoulders, snow locks against the coal colored silk, slick as steel and light as a feather, yet carrying the heft of expense.
Just as your husband did.
Little words could describe Satoru Gojo — the most common being the strongest — unmatched strength that matched his flawless appearance and even more unsullied skill set. Curses would sooner exorcise themselves rather than face him, and those who didn’t, well, they did not have long to linger on their mistake.
But you didn’t think of him as the strongest. No, your husband was so much more than that. A teacher. A mentor. A friend. An idiot (but he would insist that he was your idiot, and he very much was). And he was perfect.
A remark you knew many would balk at, and even now — as you dressed your husband, at his insistence, fingers helping him pull the fabric over his body, before smoothing it over his muscle and the word fell from you without a second thought — you caught glimpse of a grimace on Ijichi’s face in the mirror.
“Ijichi, you should go before I slap the shit out of you for your expression,” Ijichi squeaks in horror before slipping from the room, quiet click of the door welcoming silence, only for a moment, “what was that again, sweetheart?”
You roll your eyes, “should I really indulge you in making your ego any bigger? You may defeat Sukuna with just the sheer size and weight of it,” you tease, fingers smoothing and adjusting his haori.
“Think that would be a victory either way, sweetheart,” his fingers find yours, weaving with your own — miraculously soft even with bearing the weight of the world in his hands alone, “but I don’t want to win in such a boring way, especially to Sukuna,”
“And why’s that?” His lips curl.
“Because I have to look cool in front of my precious students, don’t I?” you see a hint of sadness linger in his gaze — and you hear the unspoken words, especially Megumi, but the smile slides back on as usual, “I can’t have myself embarrassing myself can I? You’d never let me live it down,”
“Oh, no I wouldn’t,” your fingers slide up to cup his cheek, “but you’d expect nothing less from your wife, now would you?”
And he grins, just as he did the day he had proposed to you, at the classroom at Jujutsu Tech where you first met, deep reds and oranges flooding the wood paneled room, painting it as it only could in the evenings, but even the sun paled in comparison to Satoru on his knee, lips curled in your favorite smile — the very one he gave you every day.
“My wife,” he hums, and you have to stop yourself from biting your lip and tense your muscles so you didn’t jump him then and there.
“What about it?” he runs the back of his fingers over your cheek.
“Just glad I convinced you to let us get married early,” not that it took much convincing at all — only a single look after he was unsealed and several minutes of making out later, and he had gotten Ijichi to get the registration and paperwork for him — the very papers Satoru had prepared before Shibuya, “because now you’re stuck with me, wifey,”
You chuckle, your fingers finding his as they brushed your cheek, turning your head to kiss his fingers, “I’ve been stuck with you from the moment we met,”
And you had been — you hadn’t known peace since he had thrown that Jujutsu Tech classroom door open all those years ago, with a welcome party prepared for you and the other first years, microphone in hand as he introduced each of you. And it wasn’t his strength or his skill or even his stupidity that charmed you — but the goddamn smile on his lips.
Funny, how everyone was so preoccupied with his eyes, when every inch of his was just as captivating—
“Think you’re going to lose me now, Toru?” You rub your thumb across the length of his cheek, “don’t know if I could ever live without you,”
“Oh yeah?” he wraps his arms around your waist, his warm form enveloping you, “no regrets?”
“Only one,” and he tilts his head, blues gleaming with the low light of the room, catching like sunlight against waves, as your fingers traced down to the smooth silk of his clothes, “that we never got married in a formal ceremony,”
“If I recall, you were in just as much of a rush as me,” his lips graze your jaw, threads of heat slipping up and down every inch of your body, a kiss pressed to the soft skin behind your ear, “you barely wanted to even have the small ceremony we did,”
“That’s because someone kept touching me while I got ready,” and he did, as you changed into a dress you selected for the small ceremony — or rather you tried, as his warm palms slid up your body, his mouth covering your soft gasps and protests, “or do you forget that you nearly fucked me against the wall right outside the room we were going to marry?”
“It’s not my fault my wife is so tempting, they say my technique is deadly, but you yourself are far more dangerous,” he hummed, another kiss against your cheek, as his thumb and forefinger cups your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze in the mirror, “why the want a formal ceremony anyway? If I remember, you said formal ceremonies were only for the attendees rather than the couple,”
“Well, maybe I saw something that changed my mind,” or someone in something—
“Oh? And what could change my incredibly stubborn wife’s mind?”
You hate him — hate the teasing glint in his gaze because he knows exactly why, as he noses the hollow of your neck, lips grazing your flushed skin, “You know why,” and he does, he sees it in the way your gaze lingers across his body, the way you shiver when his palm slips down your hip only to squeeze, and in the soft sound that leaves your lips when his fingers trace down your chin to the valley of your chest.
“I’d like to hear you say it, sweetheart,” he presses himself flush to your back, heat seeping through the fabric, just as his breath warmed your skin, “don’t tell me you forgot how to use your words,”
“You’re the worst,” and his chuckle reverberates against you, sending a shiver up your body, his hands sliding down the front of your shirt until he reaches the hem, fingers toying with the fabric.
“And what does that make you since you married me?”
“A fool,” your lips curl, his eyes meeting yours, “but a very smart one,” and he clicks his tongue.
“So smart and yet she can’t answer a simple question,” you sigh, and his fingers, finally, slide underneath against your bare stomach.
“You just want me to stroke your ego,” and he grins at you in the mirror, robes nearly engulfing your form now.
“Oh, that’s not all I want you to stroke,” your snort is cut off by a gasp as his palms slide under your bra, “I’ll just keep teasing you until you break,” and his fingers tease your pert nipples, a wave of heat headed straight for your cunt, “and y’know I can, wifey.”
~~~
“Hngh, Toru, please—”
Satoru doesn’t know what he loves more — the sound of his name on your lips, desperation on your tongue, the same tongue that he had tasted again and again or the sight of you below him, spread out on his desk, papers and books long crumpled and pushed onto the floor — but he doesn’t need to choose a favorite thing when it comes to you.
Because every single thing is his favorite.
“If you want me to stop, you can try, sweetheart,” he presses a kiss to your thigh, teeth grazing the soft flesh, another mark blooming among the rest, a field of reds and purples he could spend hours exploring, “don’t know how far you’d get,”
His fingers press your thighs further apart, with the barest hint of strength, and you’re still utterly restrained under his touch — a lovely butterfly pinned for his viewing — and what a view it was.
“Fucker,” you pout at him half-heartedly, your kiss ruined lips and fucked out gaze doing nothing to help your case, “we were supposed to be getting you dressed for—“
“Then there’s no problem,” his fingers tug your blouse over your head, your bra askew from his eager fingers, and his hand reaches around to undo the clasp. But he doesn’t pull it away with his fingers, but instead bends down to away the intruding garment, “because you’re the only one getting undressed, sweets,”
There was something about the thought — and the sight — of you completely bare for him, at his mercy naked and vulnerable, while he stood clad in the clothes meant for battle. His cock twitched, he supposed this was a battle of kind — as he pushed his sleeves up — a battle of how many times he could cum inside you.
“Satoru—“ you squeal as he nearly rips away your panties, leaving you bare for him, your thighs closing on reflex, only for him to press them back apart, “fuck—“
“That’s what I’m trying to do, sweetheart,” he clicks his tongue, bringing your soaked panties to his nose to smell, before pocketing them, a grin on his lips, “a good luck charm,”
You gape at him, half horrified and half amused at the thought of the Gojo elders somehow finding out that the Gojo clan head’s clothes had been defiled by your underwear — though you were sure they expected nothing less from Satoru Gojo.
But even so, you can’t bring yourself to complain, “You don’t need luck to win,” and he scoffs lightly, his warm palm sliding up your thigh, lips pressing hot kisses up your shin, right to your knee, “you just need to know I’ll kick your ass if you don’t make it back in one piece to me,” your fingers run through his soft locks, before tracing over his cheek.
“I know, and the thought of you waiting for me is all I need,” he turns to your hand, lips pressing a kiss against the cool metal of your wedding ring, “and it wasn’t for that,” and he’s shifting, settling fully between your thighs, lips inches from your sopping pussy, “it’s for making sure I can breed you right,”
His fingers brush against your fluttering walls, index finger tracing the outer walls with the very tip, pulling and tugging until you were spread out completely, messy pussy on display just for him. You couldn’t squirm under his the wet squelch making your cheeks burn, “S-stop teasing, just—“
You moan as he sinks a thick finger into you, knuckle deep and fast, “So needy for someone who was whining a second ago about stopping,” it doesn’t take long for a second finger to join, stretching out your perfect pussy, warm walls pulling him deeper each time he pulled out, his wrist and palm drenched in your juices, “but y’know I can’t stop, wifey, it’s our duty, right? Duty to produce an heir, but more importantly,” And a third finger sinks inside, as he peers up at you, lips parted in a sweet moan that makes his cock throb, ready to bust without a single touch, because he doesn’t need touch — not when it’s you under him, “my duty to fuck and yours to be fucked,”
And your cunt squeezes his fingers at his vulgar words, a coil growing tighter in the pit of your stomach, heat building, as you can’t help moan his name, “and how will we fulfill our duty if I don’t prepare you, huh? Gotta make sure you’re ready, hm?”
His thumb rubs over your aching clit, the lewd noises of your slick nearly white noise to your ears as pleasure builds, every muscle taut underneath his touch. He’s pumping faster and harder, nails dragging over your walls, until his fingers find that spot you love — the one he knows how to hit again and again, and he does.
Your head lolls back against the desk, pleasure ripping up your spine, “I’m—“
And that’s the only warning you give before you cum, name on your lips as your back arches, as he fingerfucks you through your orgasm, working you down from your high. You're panting, chest heaving as he slowly eases his fingers from you, the emptiness making you whine.
Your eyes flutter open to the sight of him licking his fingers clean of your cum, tongue darting across his lips, a glint in his eyes.
“You’re so sweet I can never get enough of you,” and he lifts a finger to your lips, letting you taste yourself on his digit, obediently closing your mouth around it, until he’s dragging it out, pulling at your bottom lip, “you’re dripping from both lips aren’t you?”
“That’s your fault,” god, you’re too fucking cute, thighs twitching as he leaned down to your soaked cunt, a pretty flushed pink, “you made a mess,” and his tongue licks a stripe up your leaking walls, sparks blooming from the hot muscle flicking against your hard clit.
“Then I guess it’s my responsibility to clean you up,”
Satoru Gojo is always too much — it’s too much the way his tongue drags over the seam of your cunt, it’s too much when his nose bumps against your clit when he buries his face in your pussy, your fingers curling in his white locks, and it’s too much when you feel his grunts and moans resonate against your drenched folds.
It was too much.
“How are you so soft?” He mumbles, words whispered against your puffy clit before he kisses it, “you say I don’t play fair but you were unfair from the moment I met you,” he reaches down, palming at his erection, “and I knew you’d be mine,” Your eyes find his lips less than an inch from your pussy, chin and lips shiny with your cum and his spit, “you and this sweet pussy,”
And he’s slurping every ounce of your essence you give him, greedily lapping at you as if he’d rather drown in your juices than breath real air, “fuck, Toru, slow down—“ toes curling as you
He clicks his tongue, your head rolling back as your nails dig into his scalp, “You shouldn’t lie, sweets, not when this pretty girl is so honest,” the only sound being the wet squelch of your
“Satoru Gojo!” A familiar voice rings out followed by several knocks, “how long do you expect to keep us waiting?”
Fuck. And there was the reason you two were getting sresssd to begin with — a showing before Gakuganji and the Gojo clan before the battle with Sukuna. A showing Satoru agreed to undoubtedly to fuck with them — and you, now, for that matter, as he sucks at your clit again, your hand flying to cover your mouth.
“Didn’t know you were waiting. Thought keeping you waiting would have sent you the right message,” Satoru replies, words said nearly against your wet cunt, breath warming your folds, a shiver working it’s way up your spine, “do you all need to see me in my clothes for battle that badly? I’ll have to start to suspect other motives — and while I’m flattered, with how flattered I can be from a bunch old geezers, I am a married man—“
“You insolent brat—“ his tirade falls on deaf ears as you try to urge Satoru off, but he doesn’t, only pinning your hips in place, hands locked under your knee, as he tugs you closer.
And he only grins, “Don’t tell me you’ll let this old coot distract us, sweetheart? Gonna make me insecure, does my wife not like this as much as her pussy does?” He groans his fingers, spreading your walls apart, parting them to see your cum and pre leak, only for him to lap it up, “because you’ve gotten wetter, haven’t you?”
“T-Toru, I swear to god, I’ll—“ you half whisper, half hiss, and he sinks two fingers inside your needy walls, his tongue and fingers doing nothing to keep quiet as the squelch of your folds only grows louder as he drags his fingers inside every inch of you, while his tongue busies itself with your clit.
“You’ll what, wifey?” he hums, making you whimper, “leave? You know you don’t want that. We could make a show of it, should I open these doors and let everyone see how needy you are for me,” and you can’t help the gasp that parts your lips, walls clenching around his fingers, “maybe then those geezers will see why I chose you,”
“Satoru! Are you even listening?”
“You can say whatever you want to me here,” Satoru sinks a third finger inside, teasing your clit with chaste kisses, “I’m not leaving this room for the rest of the night,”
Gakuganji pounds at the door, but you barely hear it, heart pounding in your ears, as you barely muffle your moans behind your clenched fist, “Disgraceful, do you think this is anyway to behave—“ you’re so close, too close, ready to cum as he pumps his fingers once, twice, three times — hitting your sweet spot again and again—you feel yourself reach that peak—
Only for him to stop. The whine that leaves your lips is a little too loud, just as his smirk is a little too wide.
Fucking asshole.
Satoru chuckles, teasing you open with his fingertips, just carding your folds barely open at all, pulling small gasps and moans muffled against clenched fingers, “Aw, c’mon, you don’t think being sealed up in that box taught me anything? You should know it only made me take what I want,” Satoru pulls his fingers from inside you, licking up the side of his digits, “and what I want is right here,” he leans back down, “so tell me and leave,”
“Even so, I need to speak to you alone,”
“It’s only me and my wife. You can tell her anything you tell me, she’s the more responsible one after all,” he punctuates it by his teeth grazing your clit, making your hips jerk underneath him, his hand covering your mouth, your fingers curling over his. He grins down at you as he kisses your thigh, “My wife is indisposed at the moment,”
You don’t hear what Gakuganji says as his fingers sink back inside all at once, fingers rough as they fucked you open in earnest, but you hear Satoru scoff nonetheless.
“Get your mind out of the gutter, you old geezer — she’s just lying down,” and he adds with a whisper, curling his fingers just right, “and getting her brains fingerfucked out,” and your pretty eyes are full of tears, cries muffled against his fingers, spit soaked, as he feels your walls clamp around his fingers, “what do you think? Should I let him in, sweetheart? Let him see how you well you get fucked by me, hear you scream my name when you cum for me?”
Nerves on fire from his touch, he’s just adding fuel to the fire, and you’re bucking into his fingers, wanting his fingers deeper even a little—
“No, I don’t think so,” his lips curl as he leans down, cerulean glinting in the low light, as your walls give that tell tale flutter, “because this pretty cunt is just for me,” and he sucks hard at your clit, just as he pulls his hand away, “cum.”
And you do, pleasure ripping through every inch of you as your back arches upwards into his touch, as he holds you against his face, cumming against his fingers and lips.
It’s heaven, buried in your sweet cunt as you cum, hot release against his tongue that he laps up greedily, the wet squelch of your pussy along with your lips crying out his name again and again. doing nothing to ease the throbbing between his thighs.
And when he finally does pull away, licking his lips and chin clean of your release, he watches you coming down from your high — eyes fluttering open slowly as your chest heaves, pussy split open just for him, your cum staining parts of his pants shirt and haori.
Fuck, he’ll have to see everyone off like this — your cum on his clothes — and his dick twitches, as he leans down to press kisses along your body, with you shivering as he does. And he wants nothing more than this moment to last, with you beneath him, the taste of you on his lips, and the sounds of your soft pants filling his ears.
That is until, you flipped him, back hitting the plush of the mattress, “sweets—“
“Did you forget? It’s a wife’s duty to serve her husband,” and your fingers are as deft as they are possessed — grazing over the bulge in his pants, a hiss before pulling the drawstrings apart, “isn’t that right, husband?”
Fuck, he bites his lip as he watches you tug his trousers down, his erection slaps his stomach, hard and leaking through the fabric of his boxers, a large dark stain of precum from his weeping tip.
Fuck, your cunt ached at the sight of him — no matter how many times you saw his cock, you couldn’t get over just how long he was — it was a miracle you were able to take him without breaking your cunt, though he’d gotten far too close.
“And I thought you said we couldn’t undress me,” his cock twitches as your fingers trace over the dripping slit through the drenched material.
Your eyes don’t meet his, still fixed on his hard on, “if the clothes are on you, does it even count as undressing?”
And your fingers dip into the elastic of his boxers before snapping it against his skin, making him jolt, “should I stop then, oh honored one?” You rub your thumb over his slit harshly, a gasp falling from his lips as his head lolls back, “maybe I should go get Gakuganji, let you have your meeting,”
“Playing dirty doesn’t suit you, sweetheart—“ and you pull his boxers down, pooling around his knees just as his pants did, cold air hitting his cock making him hiss.
“Like I said,” your palms slide up his body, from his waist, and under his shirt, to his chest, stealing the breath from his lungs, “should I stop?”
He looks up at you, lungs filled with heat instead of air, lips hovering an inch from his leaking erection.
“Fuck no.”
~~~
You’d be the death of him.
There was no mistake about it.
Satoru Gojo only had one weakness—and you were sitting on top of him. Your hair disheveled with your fingers running through them, lips kiss bitten and ruined even as your teeth grazed your bottom lip, and your gaze molten and only for him — just for him.
And you called him perfect.
A groan leaves his chest as your tongue flicks against his slit, salty precum swallowed by eager lips. He’s hypnotized by you, fingers reaching for you, as his thumb drags down your puffy bottom lip, parting your mouth for him, tongue darting out to lick the pad of his finger. Fuck, your mouth is so sweet, but how is it so wicked all the same?
“Fuck, sweets, how do you look so good on your knees f’me? S’not fair,” and your forefinger traces his pretty veins from base to tip, running over every curve and inch that would be buried in your tight cunt soon enough, his hips jumping against your touch, “g’nna make me cum before you even touch me,”
“If you’re gonna cum anywhere, it better be on me,” your lips curl at the shiver that runs down his body, your fingers sliding up his thigh as your fingers slide the pre down his length, fingers slowly pumping him.
“Fuuuuck, just like that, can’t wait to bury myself in your sweet pussy, wifey—“ your lips kiss his slit, sucking as your fingers toyed with his balls, feeling far too tight from your touch, a moan cutting off his words.
“G’tta find a way to shut you up somehow, Toru,” you spit on his cock, pressing teasing kisses up and down his begging length, “or maybe we can find a gag,”
You’ll kill him before he even gets a chance to fight Sukuna, and he’d die a happy man.
His precum drips down your chin, painting your lips, tongue darting out to lick it off your skin, “s’fucking good for me,” the praise sending a wave of heat right to your cunt, hot cum slipping down your thighs — and you finally let his cock slip past your lips.
A whine leaves his throat, his head lolls back, your pretty mouth wrapped around his dick, soaking his length, hips jerking against your mouth. Half muttered apologies, he couldn’t look away from the sight of you on your knees for him — mouth stuffed full of his cock with glassy eyes from the soreness of your jaw as you bobbed your head up and down his length. Just watching his dick go and in out of your pretty fucking lips, drenched in your spit and his pre, was enough to make him want to cum then and there.
But he wasn’t the only one.
Small whimpers and moans reverberate against his cock, tongue flicking against his veins, when his eyes flicker down, nails nearly digging into your scalp as he sees you two fingers deep in your cunt, the wet sounds of your pussy mixing with the squelches of his cock in your mouth.
“Fuck, such a nasty girl I married, huh?” He runs his fingers through his hair, entranced by the sight of you fucking yourself open with your fingers, your mouth growing sloppily as you do, “does fucking my dick turn you on this much? You’ve soaked the sheets,” he chides, wide smirk undercutting any iota of scolding, while you meet his gaze with a glare, “Aw, what? Can’t take it—“
His words are cut off as you take him deep, too bumping against your throat, and his fingers curl in his locks.
“Shit—“ Your fingers graze his balls again before squeezing, hard, he nearly busts them and there, but he can’t, not yet — his fingers weave into your locks to slowly pull you off, strings of spit and pre connecting your — not when he hasn’t fucked your pretty cunt yet.
Your eyes are dilated, dark with pleasure as his gaze meets your own, a mix of his pre and your spit slipping from the corner of your mouth, “You haven't cum yet—“ and his fingers wrap around your wrist and pull your fingers from inside yourself.
You yelp as he flips you over in an instant, hitting the mattress with a bounce, large palms sliding up your thighs, as he presses your knees to your chest.
“The only place I’m cumming, sweetheart,” as he drags the swollen head of his cock against your needy folds, watching his precum smear against your twitching folds, before lifting your soaked fingers to his lips, “is inside your sweet cunt.”
“Toru—please—“ and you’re so needy, just for him, your fingers finding the front of his scarf before tugging him close, a gasp chased away by a grin as he sees the pure desperation in your eyes, “I need you,”
“I’m right here, sweets,” and he’s leaning down to dot sweet kisses down your body — against your neck, the bridge of your collarbone, the swell of your breasts. “You’re going to have to be more specific,”
“Fucker,” he laughs.
“Now you’re getting closer,” and he does too, bumping the head of his weeping erection against your puffy clit, as your folds feel as if they’ll part for him in an instant, “this pretty girl is more honest than you are,” he’s parting your folds with his tip only to pull out.
A whine turns to a scowl, as you tug him even closer by his scarf, “I swear to god, if you don’t fuck me, I’ll strangle you with this—“ and he sinks into you.
Fuck, you swear you feel every goddamn inch, vein, and curve as he works himself into your tight cunt, walls fluttering as if beckoning him deeper—and he was only too happy to oblige.
“Toru, s’too big,” your whining only makes his cock throb inside you as he bottoms out inside, “s’too much,”
“Too much? No, sweets, this dick was made to fuck you,” he grunts, taking every iota of his self control not to thrust into you and bury his cum deep in your womb — no, he wanted this to last, “and this pussy was made for my cum,” he rolls his hips against you swallowly, his tip brushing against your cervix, as both of your heads roll back.
“How are you so tight? Pleasure rips up your spine as he begins a steady pace of fucking you, sounds of skin smacking together ringing in your ears, “you’re fucking wet and yet you have me in a vice grip,” his clothes rub against you, your slick soaking through the fabric, “should I go meet with the elders like this? Let them see the Gojo clan’s haori soaked by your juices,” fingers pressing your legs apart wider and higher, divots in your flesh from his touch.
Your walls squeeze at his words, mouth falling open wordlessly as he grunts, “F-fuck,” you can only manage to say, chest heaving as you grasp at the front of his haori, pulling him needlessly closer, “f-faster—“ and he grins.
He was more than happy to oblige.
He rails into you at a pace impossible for anyone but Satoru Gojo. And your gasp fades into a drawn out moan that makes him only want to fuck you harder and faster — he needed to bury himself in your cunt until all you remembered was how to moan his name.
“You take me so well, so deep,” his hand laces with yours and guides it to the bulge in your stomach, “see how deep you take me? Good girl,” the praise makes you keen, sending another wave of pre to soak his dick, and he chuckles, “gonna fit my baby so well too,”
Your mouth falls open as his dick ruts against you, bullying your pussy open, “W-what?”
“Y’think we’re gonna leave this bed before I’ve filled you up?” And he punctuates his words with each roll of his hip, “nah, this cunt is all mine tonight,” his thumb drags down your lips, pressing against your tongue, spit leaking out as you groaned, “and so are you,”
And you’re sucking at his thumb, teeth grazing it before brushing it away to lean up to meet his lips in a bruising, messy kiss — all spit and teeth and tongue, as your hips meet his thrusts, tip finally finding that sweet spot that has your back arching and your eyes rolling back.
“Toru, fuck, I’m g’nna—“ and you’re cumming, hard, orgasm hitting every inch of your body at once, nerve endings shot with pleasure as he fucks you through it — fucking relentless (or should you say limitless?). Satoru grunts as your walls clamp down on him, the wet squelch of your pussy only growing louder among your pants and moans. He watches the white ring of cum wrap around the base of his cock as it split you open, and all he wanted to do was cum inside you.
He needed to.
But he’s pulling out suddenly, a gasp ripped from your lips at the emptiness, before he’s pulling you into his lap, your back pressed to his chest, an arm around you to keep you from squirming.
“What are you—“ your sentence cuts off as he teases your far too sensitive entrance with the head of his cock, “T-toru,”
And his other hand snakes around to cup your chin, forcing you to meet your own gaze in the mirror.
You’re a mess — sweat slicked and naked, your skin littered with blooming red marks dotting up and down your body, your nipples pebbled and hard under his touch, and your cunt on full display, his fingers slipping down to spread them, as if to show you where he just was.
And he was — hulking behind you, his whole form enveloping you as his cock pushed against your needy entrance. His haori disheveled and his hair askew from your fingers running through it, skin shiny with sweat, skin beautifully flushed, and his eyes filled with lust and his smile far too pleased with himself as he watched you squirm.
Your eyes squeeze shut, “Don’t wanna be the only one to watch me cum inside you, you should enjoy the view too,” he’s finally sinking to you again, body falling back against him as he sheathed himself in you fully again, “look at how well you take me,”
And his fingers are cupping your chin, spit slipping from your mouth, as he forced you to look again, see the bulge in your stomach as he slowly began to fuck you, his grunts and moans hot against your ear, “y’know, I’m beginning to really believe you were made for me, sweets, the only one for me,” and he’s emphasizing it with a thrust, “you’re the only one I can even imagine wanting, even just thinking of you is enough for me,” his words do nothing but make you grow tighter as he fucks upwards into you, as he spots your eyes shut again, “c’mon baby, watch me fuck you,”
So you do, watch as his cock slides in and out of your cunt, the wet noises and squelch almost too much for you to bear, the all too familiar knot in your stomach growing ready to snap. His fingers slide up your body to pinch and tease your sensitive nipples, already flushed from his attention. He’s murmuring sweet words, but you don’t hear any of them — you’re gone, lost in the pleasure, in the sweet stretch of your pussy around his cock, unable to look away as he fucks into you.
“S’good for me, sweets, I’m close,” and he’s pulling you down flush against him, cock buried to the base as his tip brushes against your g-spot with every thrust, his lips pressing needy kisses to the side of your neck, “fuck, g’nna cum—”
“Cum inside me, fill me up, Toru,” and he groans your name, turning your head to find your lips in a sloppy kiss, tongue wrapped around yours just as his cock hits the deepest part of your tight cunt and his fingers rub against your clit.
And you’re squirting, gushing over his lap and cock, pulling your lips from him as you moan his name, as he rails into you through your orgasm, until he notches himself as deep as he can before he’s cumming too, hot release painting your walls as he fills you up. He’s fucking his cum into you.
You both grow slack as he slows his movements, relaxing against his body, murmuring soft praises as he slowly pulls himself from inside, clicking his tongue, as he watches his cum slip out of you.
“Sweetheart, how will you fulfill your duty if you let my cum slip out like that?” he kisses your cheek, before he’s gathering the cum on his fingers to stuff it back inside, drawing a gasp from your lips, “maybe I’ll just fill you up again, hm?”
His softening cock twitches at the thought, as you lean into him, shifting as you feel just how wet you’ve gotten him…and his clothes.
Fuck.
“Toru, how are you going to fight in these clothes tomorrow?” you cover your burning cheeks, “it’s drenched,”
“It’ll dry,” you snap your head to him to glare at him, and he pouts, “what? It’ll be like you’re fighting with me—”
“I swear if I have to live with the knowledge you fought the king of curses with my cum all over you, I’ll kill you—”
“And if I’m not alive—”
“I will bring you back to life, just to kill you,” and your palm slides against the slant of his cheek, “and you’re not going to die, I forbid it,”
He chuckles, his lips leaning down to meet yours in a sweet kiss, “Then I better not now, huh?”
~~~
“You’ll come home to me, won’t you?”
It hadn’t been a question, not until now, now when you’re faced with the reality of the day pressed against you as day breaks over December 24th. Daylight seeped into the bedroom, his thumb tracing a lazy circle against the divot of your hip, a soft smile on his lips, with his arms wrapped around you.
Atlas long having shifted the sky to your husband’s shoulders, from the second he existed in his world — but for a moment, you feel it too. Not like him — never like him, even when you tried to bear it with him. But you never could understand, no matter how you tried to.
But you tried — his fingers lacing with yours, engulfing yours with his warmth, as he lifted your intertwined fingers to his lips.
“Where else would I go, sweets?” And you didn’t want to think of the other possibilities, to say the words out loud and manifest them as some cruel jujutsu god’s intention. Because when were these gods ever kind? “I only belong in one place — two if you count the mochi place in Sendai,”
But he doesn’t earn a smile out of you, frown still firmly fixed to your lips, “ouch, not even a pity half smile?” he tilts his head, “sweetheart—“
“You said it yourself that the ten shadows is the ultimate counter to infinity,” you hate the words that leave your lips, filling in your mouth like bile, unable to do anything but spit them out like acid, “that and Sukuna’s technique, I’m worried—“
“Worrying won’t change the outcome, baby, and I’m not planning on losing,”
“If you aren’t, then why did you agree to give Yuta your body?” your words were quiet, his movements still, muscles tense as if he had already given up his autonomy to another, “and you didn’t tell me,”
He’s careful with his words, tiptoeing between buried mines— “I didn’t want you to worry about something that wouldn’t happen—“ but still managing to step on one all the same.
“Bullshit. You thought it would be better for me to find out if push comes to shove?” you laugh, a bitter noise, but all the anger leaves your body, and only fear is left, “I can’t lose you, Toru,”
“Baby—“
“I can’t. I won’t,” you’re being petulant, you know are, but he’s the one person you’re allowed to be childish about, just as he is with you.
“You won’t, huh?” He wasn’t used to be treated like this — as fragile, as something that’s fleeting, that could slip from fingers as easily as everyone else did. Even as you touched his, fingers tracing the curve of his jaw with the most delicate of touches, as if he’d shatter under your touch, “I don’t think we get a say in that, sweets, unless you had secret meetings with a god I don’t know about,”
“Satoru—“
“Don’t worry I won’t get too jealous—“ and you cover his mouth, yanking him close by his scarf, your forehead pressed to his shoulder.
“I love you, you absolute idiot, you know that right?” And you feel his lips curl ever so slightly against your fingers, before he presses a soft kiss to your palm, easing it from his mouth, “I love you, I love you so much,”
“I love you too,” he presses his forehead to yours, “I’ll come back to you, but even if I don’t…I’ll always be with you, you can’t get rid of me, even in death,”
“Promise?” And he kisses you, soft and languid, thumb rubbing back and forth against your speak.
“Promise.”
And Satoru Gojo was never one to break his promises.
~~~~
Except now.
The slice cut through the silence of the battlefield with the wet squelch of flesh and blood, followed by two thumps, one soon after the other.
No, no. This wasn’t true. It wasn’t. It wasn’t.
It couldn’t be.
He promised he would come back. He promised he’d live. He promised.
He can’t leave like this. No, he can heal himself, he can save himself, couldn’t he? RCT like he did before with Toji. And for your eyes flickered around the room, no one could meet your gaze, none except Shoko, who saw the question in your eyes and only frowned before shaking her head, lit cigarette snapping in half as he held it too tight.
“No, no—“ you didn’t even realize you said the words out loud before you felt everyone’s eyes on you suddenly, before you felt something, a flicker of his cursed energy and you snapped.
“Ui ui, take me with you,” Kashimo was already on his way to the battlefield, a lightning flash to death’s door, with no fear.
Yuta says your name softly, “I don’t know if that’s a good—“ your eyes snap to his hard.
“You have your plans, Yuta, and I have my own, this isn’t a matter of discussion,” you step over to Ui Ui, seeing Yuta’s hands curl into fists, vision averted, “I’m not ready to give up on him,”
And in a second, you’re in the middle of the battlefield, dust clearing as the distant noises of fighting rings in your ears, but you barely register it, no, not when wind rolls and you see him.
“Satoru,”
You’re at his side in an instant, your fingers running over his cheek, the heat leaving his body, cold creeping in, but as your fingers graze his, a quiet murmur of his name, and you see his eyes flutter.
And it’s immediate. You look to Ui Ui, as your hands are placed on either side of his split body, palms spread against his body, “Take us to Shoko, he’s alive.”
~~~~
Satoru Gojo was never one to lose.
But he supposed if he had to lose to anyone, it might as well be the king of curses. But he knows he didn’t really loose, as he watches the snow fall above him, wondering if the cold against his skin was the snow or if it was something else entirely.
Was this what it was like for Suguru? Is this what he saw? The winter sky, or was it him knelt beside him as his life left his body.
Maybe he’ll ask him when he goes back, when he sees everyone again.
And then he hears it — your voice, the quiet murmur of his name, and the brush of your hand against his.
No, no, he can’t leave. Not if he can help it. Not when you’re here.
He feels your cursed energy flood his body, the flow of cursed energy through every inch of him, as it keeps his heart beating and his brain alive — a gasp caught in his throat.
If you want to start anew, head north. If you want to return to your old self, head south.
There’s only one option.
He had to head north — even if it meant — he closed his eyes — losing everything, but himself.
But he’d have you — and that would be more than enough.
~~~
“Are you enjoying the view?”
Your lips curl as you stand in the doorway of your bedroom, leaning back against the doorframe, watching your husband dress himself.
“Always do,” the floorboards creak lowly as you cross the bedroom to your husband’s side, “why do you think I married you?”
He chuckles, “and here I thought it was because of my incredible personality,” and you snort, as your arms wrap around his middle, your fingers adjusting the obi belt around his waist, “feels like you laughed at that a little too hard, sweetheart,”
“I just imagined how your students would react at that,” you laugh softly, as you finish adjusting his belt, only to grab his haori, a deep sky blue, as pretty as he is, “pretty sure they’d disagree, especially after the stunt you pulled—“
And of course, the stunt you were referring to was him coercing you push a box out to his students, only for him to pop out.
“How many chances would I have to do that? Plus, it was hilarious — did you see their faces?” And you scoff, shaking your head, “Plus, I figured it would be less shocking this way. Surprising them this way changes the focus from what happened to right now,”
You helped him pull the haori on, guiding his arms in one sleeve and then another, “I think you just being alive was enough of a shock,” you kiss his palm, pressing it against your face.
And his lips curl, “Well I made a promise didn’t I?” His other hand reaches for you, finding your waist and tugging you close, “and I never break a promise, especially when it comes to my beautiful wife,”
“Can you call me that yet? We still haven’t had the ceremony yet,” he shakes his head.
“This is only a formality, something to appease the elders and keep the idea of a clan war at bay,” he scoffs, shaking his head, before shrugging, “but it isn’t so bad,”
“Why’s that?” And he smiles.
“Because now we can have no regrets,” and your fingers trace upwards over his face, the scars from his battle bumpy as your fingers run over his soft skin, fingers reaching the blindfold over his left eye, before pushing it up — his cerulean blue eye now a milky white, “except maybe being able to marry you with both eyes,”
“Like you said, we were already married,” your thumb runs over his shut eye gently, “this is just a formality,”
He leans into your touch, nuzzling your hand, before his arms pull you flush against him, “Then can we be late?” And his lips lean down to press a heated kiss to your neck, voice reverberating against your skin, “because I’d like to enjoy my wife before I have to share her with everyone else,”
“Toru—“ a soft gasp cuts you off, as his hands slide down your sides to cup your ass, fingers squeezing, “we can’t—“
“Oh what will they do? Start without us?” And your resistance is waning as his lips start trailing kisses down your neck, tugging at your kimono if only to pull the fabric down your shoulders, “I promise I’ll be fast,”
“Last time you promised that, we didn’t even make it out the door—“ and his fingers are already undoing your obi, before sliding up and underneath the silk material, thighs parting under his touch, “god—“
“You don’t have to call me ‘god,’ sweetheart,” and his fingers toy with your panties, “look at my wife,” and he’s tilting your gaze to make you look at yourself in the mirror again, “perfect,”
“Just like my husband,” and his lips curl.
“Even now?” And your fingers cup his cheek, forcing him to meet your gaze — no longer the look of the strongest or the gaze of the six eyes — just the eyes of your husband, Satoru Gojo. The very gaze he’ll use to look to the future.
“Especially now.”
✧ a/n: welcome to the first kinktober fic!! sorry it took a bit T_T. i've been super busy with work and i keep getting sick in weird ways. last week i got hives and this week, my stomach is being a jerk. but i hope you guys enjoyed :) i think the next fic may be 'a cult classic' or 'scream (only for me)' so look forward to that!! thank you to @coffee-and-geto and @gaylatteart for betaing!
✧ taglist: @risuola , @riamallow , @montilyetron , @saccharinesatoru , @notgoodforlife , @aerithsthingss , @satorusmochis , @silvarys , @oracle014 , @jimabenamara , @seijakuu00 , @erwinawesomeness , @staryukis , @idiotgojo , @torubug , @theshylittleelfgirl , @mitsuristoleme , @forest-hashira , @aishies-stuff , @midnaamethyste , @fiannee , @paperstarsthings , @satosuguwifee , @kachntos @meow-satoru , @rowaelinsdaughter , @emonaculate , @hojoslutoru , @strawberry1042 , @fairiesthrum , @shoyosdoll , @gladiatorgladiator , @tojis-ball-sack , @astraecea-silversin , @sleazymac-n-cheesy , @wakashudou , @cstandsforchaos , @yuminako , @zetianzz , @dazailover1900 , @sunamatic , @euphorism , @satowooo , @hawkwithsocks
#sab [mlist]#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo fanfiction#satoru gojo smut#gojo x reader#gojo smut#satoru gojo x you#gojo x you#gojo satoru smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#gojo fanfiction#jjk gojo
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me back on my semi-yearly watching of drumeo vids for fun (anguish) shit specifically "______'s drummer hears ______ for the 1st time" and GOdD ALL I WANT IS TO HAVE A REAL KIT AND LEARRRRRRN IT LOOKS SO GREAT AND FUN AND I FEEL VERY CONNECTED TO IT IN A WAY I CAN'T DESCRIBE WHENEVER I WATCH SOMEONE PLAY 😭😭😭😭
#it's so fascinating and i think i'd really take to it and well i've been right about these things before#like if i had space and didn't live in an apt back when that gov money hit i would have gotten a starter#it was actually my 1st thought before a bass which idk why though bc i was lichrally in an apartment lmao#i have an e-kit but haven't used it much cause still kinda loud and i was away and now it's elsewhere for the time being but#once i get back on my feet w by bass playing i may set it up again bc the itch will be too great#but even then i just want to work on the real thingggg#and i Know it'd be so theraputic for my rage (and tactile needs w my anxiety even a lil practice pad for that would be nicee)#(will be hell for my tinnitus tho so oop (plugz4ever))#lichrally a bass sun drums moon ass bitch#ppl will spend 5 mins w me & get that i'm a bassist 'ohh you're sOo chilllll! oh ofc!' but Never guess how angry i am all the fucking time#literally so chillangry it hurts? (lol jokes aside idk how that exists in such a small space like how have i not imploded)#i Need to Hit Shit#(constructively. (or destructively without consequences.))#(((still can't believe i've never made it to a break room i keep forgetting they exist or am poor att or both)))#anyway back to watching and crying
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How to pull off descriptions
New authors always describe the scene and place every object on the stage before they press the play button of their novels. And I feel that it happens because we live in a world filled with visual media like comics and films, which heavily influence our prose.
In visual media, it’s really easy to set the scene—you just show where every object is, doesn’t matter if they’re a part of the action about to come or not. But prose is quite different from comics and films. You can’t just set the scene and expect the reader to wait for you to start action of the novel. You just begin the scene with action, making sure your reader is glued to the page.
And now that begs the question—if not at the beginning, where do you describe the scene? Am I saying you should not use descriptions and details at all? Hell naw! I’m just saying the way you’re doing it is wrong—there’s a smarter way to pull off descriptions. And I’m here to teach that to you.
***
#01 - What are descriptions?
Let’s start with the basics—what are descriptions? How do you define descriptions? Or details, for that matter? And what do the words include?
Descriptions refer to… descriptions. It’s that part of your prose where you’re not describing something—the appearance of an object, perhaps. Mostly, we mean scene-descriptions when we use the term, but descriptions are more than just scene-descriptions.
Descriptions include appearances of characters too. Let’s call that character-descriptions.
Both scene-descriptions and character-descriptions are forms of descriptions that we regularly use in our prose. We mostly use them at the beginning of the scene—just out of habit.
Authors, especially the newer ones, feel that they need to describe each and every nook and cranny of the place or character so they can be visualized clearly by their readers, right as the authors themselves visualized them. And they do that at the start of the scene because how can you visualize a scene when you don’t know how the scene looks first.
And that’s why your prose is filled with how the clouds look or what lights are on the room before you even start with the dialogues and action. But the first paragraph doesn’t need to be a simple scene-description—it makes your prose formulaic and predictable. And boring. Let me help you with this.
***
#02 - Get in your narrator’s head
The prose may have many MCs, but a piece of prose only has a single narrator. And these days, that’s mostly one of the characters of your story. Who uses third-person omniscient narrator these days anyway? If that’s you, change your habits.
Anyway, know your narrator. Flesh out their character. And then internalize them—their speech and stuff like that. Internalize your narrator to such an extent that you can write prose from their point-of-view.
Now, I don’t mean to say that only your narrator should be at the center of the scene—far from it. What I mean is you should get into your narrator’s head.
You do not describe a scene from the eyes of the author—you—but from the eyes of the narrator. You see from their eyes, and understand what they’re noticing. And then you write that.
Start your scene with what the narrator is looking at.
For example,
The dark clouds had covered the sky that day. The whole classroom was in shades of gray—quite unusual for someone like Sara who was used to the sun. She felt the gloom the day had brought with it—the gloom that no one else in her class knew of.
She never had happy times under the clouds like that. Rain made her sad. Rain made her yearn for something she couldn’t put into words. What was it that she was living for? Money? Happiness?
As she stared at the sky through the window, she was lost in her own quiet little corner. Both money and happiness—and even everything else—were temporary. All of it would leave her one day, then come back, then leave, then come back, like the waves of an ocean far away from any human civilization in sight.
All of it would come and go—like rain, it’d fall on her, like rain, it’d evaporate without proof.
And suddenly, drops of water began hitting the window.
You know it was a cloudy day, where it could rain anytime soon. You know that for other students, it didn’t really matter, but Sara felt really depressed because of the weather that day. You know Sara was at the corner, dealing with her emotions alone.
It’s far better than this,
The dark clouds covered the sky that day. It could rain anytime soon.
From her seat at the corner of the room, Sara stared at the sky that made everything gray that day. She…
The main reason it doesn’t work is that you describe the scene in the first paragraph, but it’s devoid of any emotions. Of any flavor. It’s like a factual weather report of the day. That’s what you don’t want to do—write descriptions in a factual tone.
If you want to pull off the prior one, get to your narrator’s head. See from their eyes, think from their brain. Understand what they’re experiencing, and then write that experience from their POV.
Sara didn’t care what everyone was wearing—they were all probably in their school uniforms, obviously, so I didn’t describe that. Sara didn’t focus on how big the classroom was, or how filled, or what everybody was doing. Sara was just looking at the clouds and the clouds alone, hearing everybody just living their normal days, so I mentioned just those things.
As the author, you need to understand that only you, the author are the know-it-all about the scene, not your narrator. And that you’re different from your narrator.
Write as a narrator, not as an author.
***
#03 - Filler Words
This brings me to filler words. Now, hearing my advice, you might start writing something like this,
Sarah noticed the dark clouds through the window. She saw that they’d saturated the place gray.
Fillers words like “see”, “notice”, “stare”, “hear” should be ignored. But many authors who begin writing from the POV of the characters start using these verbs to describe what the character is experiencing.
But remember, the character is not cognizant of the fact that they’re seeing a dark cloud, just that it’s a dark cloud. You don’t need these filler words—straight up describe what the character is seeing, instead of describing that the character is seeing.
Just write,
There were dark clouds on the other end of the window, which saturated the place gray.
Sarah is still seeing the clouds, yeah. But we’re looking from her eyes, and her eyes ain’t noticing that she’s noticing the clouds.
It’s kinda confusing, but it’s an important mistake to avoid. Filler words can really make your writing sound more amateurish than before and take away the experience of the reader, because the reader wants to see through the narrator’s eyes, not that the narrator is seeing.
***
#04 - Characters
Character-descriptions are a lot harder to pull off than scene-descriptions. Because it’s really confusing to know when to describe them, their clothing, their appearances, and what to tell and what not to.
For characters, you can give a full description of their looks. Keep it concise and clear, so that your readers can get a pretty good idea of the character with so few words that they don’t notice you’ve stopped action for a while.
Or can show your narrator scanning the character, and what they noticed about them.
Both these two tricks only work when a character is shown first time to the readers. After that, you don’t really talk about their clothing or face anymore.
Until there’s something out of the ordinary about your character.
What do I mean by that? See, you’ve described the face and clothes of the character, and the next time they appear, the reader is gonna imagine the character in a similar set of clothes, with the same face and appearance that they had the first time. Therefore, any time other than the first, you don’t go into detail about the character again. But, if something about your character is out of ordinary—there are bruises on their face, scars, or a change in the way they dress—describe it to the reader. That’s because your narrator may notice these little changes.
***
#05 - Clothing
Clothing is a special case. Some new authors describe the clothes of the characters when they’re describing the character every time the reader sees them. So, I wanna help you with this.
Clothing can be a way to show something about your character—a character with a well-ironed business suit is gonna be different from a character with tight jeans and baggy t-shirt. Therefore, only use clothing to tell something unique about the character.
Refrain from describing the clothing of characters that dress like most others. Like, in a school, it’s obvious that all characters are wearing school uniforms. Also, a normal teenage boy may wear t-shirts and denim jeans. If your character is this, no need to describe their clothing—anything the reader would be imagining is fine.
Refrain from describing the clothing of one-dimensional side-characters—there’s a high chance you’ve not really created them well enough that they have clothing that differs from the expectations of the readers. We all know what waiters wear, or what a college guy who was just passing by in the scene would be wearing.
You may describe the clothing of the important character in the story, but only in the first appearance. After that, describe their clothes only if the clothes seem really, really different from the first time. And stop describing their clothes if you’ve set your character well enough in the story that your readers know what to expect from them in normal circumstances—then, describe clothes only when they’re really, really different from their usual forms of clothing.
***
#06 - Conclusion
I think there was so much I had to say in this article, but I didn’t do a good job. However, I said all that I wanted to say. I hope you guys liked the article and it helps you in one way or the other.
And please subscribe if you want more articles like this straight in your inbox!
#writers and poets#writers on tumblr#writerscommunity#writeblr#writing#creative writing#writing resources#writing advice#writing tips#writing descriptions#character descriptions
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I have the curse of so much to say all the time I should rlly get a diary
#anyway. I’m just trying to get to know the guy but there’s That sitting there bc he’s cute#it makes me feel so weird abt everything bc it doesn’t feel like I should be Feeling That idk how much other people have this#added weirdness coming with being gay#anyway I’m so lucky that the one person who knows me well enough to be able to See Things is completely oblivious bc goddamn#I run the full length of the rink to catch up with Big Luke after he leaves bc there was a glove left on the bench where we were#and I thought it might’ve been his (it wasn’t)#i didn’t realise that when I feel things I feel them Big#partly bc I spent a long time not letting myself but I think this whole thing comes with the territory of repression#but yeah if you hadn’t guessed the Guys thing is one of the things The Wanting is shifting towards#I know that I absolutely cannot until may bc I don’t have time. it would almost definitely mess with me too much even if it’s good#once again feeling dumb for Having Feelings Abt Things but I think that too is normal#okay. I don’t have much time to do essay now but I can look through it and set it on the process of maturing in my head#bc I never get anything substantial done on the first day of working on smth anyway. it needs time to arrange itself in my head#and then I can cook with whatever I’ve got bc I think I have enough to make a decent curry even if I’m missing some vegetables I’d like#and tomorrow I can set my alarm properly and have a quiet day where I try to get my essay done and have a night to myself#I should email some supervisors but I’ll do that tomorrow they won’t read the emails until Monday anyway#okay?#oh yeah I also have the sun lamp now I’ll turn that on that will really help#okay I’m gonna go do that. <33#luke.txt
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Where he would propose and how it happens [Genshin Men]
Warnings: haven’t written in a while please excuse and tell me about pronoun slips, I’m sleep deprived, not proofread (this will be my fixed disclaimer as a writing parent, haha)
Notes: All of these were captured by me in game. I just felt like exploring the beauty of Genshin more and this was a great way to do it while mixing it with writing. Note that you may not agree with some of these, and that's totally fine, these are my thoughts and ideas :)
Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Gorou, Heizou, Itto, Kaeya, Kaveh, Kazuha, Lyney, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Thoma, Tighnari, Venti, Wriothesley, Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader
Aether
Aether is a simple man, and though he plans his proposal he doesn't really think much of the place, somewhere where the two of you frequent, maybe on your daily/nightly walks.
It happens just as the two of you are about to go back, this is where you sit and relax for a while as the sun sets. You can see Mondstadt in the distance and the beautiful orange sky.
As you're about to turn and walk away he catches your wrist and pulls you back into the middle of those tiny pink flowers.
Now that he thinks about it... This is where his journey really started: Starfell Lake, and how perfect would it be to start a new one with you?
"Y/N, I...want you to stay. I mean, forever," the words are simple but it gets across.
Albedo
Also a simple person. You might think Dragonspine when you think Albedo and I agree that all that snow could be romantic but I went for Starsnatch Cliff. It's a good place to see Mondstadt, and he takes you there after the sun has set.
He would probably comment about how you can see a lot of things from here, and how the world is such a great, vast place, full of things to explore and discover.
"...and yet I find myself thinking... how all that I want is right next to me. Would you do me the honour of being my lifelong partner?"
Alhaitham
Something's up and you can tell, this isn't your usual route home, and honestly you've never stopped in these parts of the city. You've passed by it sure, but never with Alhaitham.
You ask him where the two of you are going and if there are some extra errands to run before going home. He only shakes his head and ends up leading you over right next to the glowing Padisarah flower.
He HAS planned this, so why does it feel like he hasn't? Even has a ring in his pocket (granted it is the SIMPLEST ring one could ever imagine, that's just how he is)
Ends up just taking the ring box out and showing it to you while trying to speak "I..." doesn't speak much of his emotions so has a hard time, but feels pathetic afterwards so meets your eyes straight on. "...A promise... That what I feel for you... is everlasting,"
Ayato
That small shrine/garden/sitting area just outside the Kamisato Estate. It's just a bit more private than the sitting area INSIDE the estate.
You wouldn't think anything of it because you do hang out here from time to time.
Ayato might seem like a grand person but in the end he doesn't want to stray far from home.
"I'm...sorry if this is a bit abrupt," fishes out a ring box from his long sleeve. "I've been meaning to ask for a while now, will you share your life with me as my beloved?"
Baizhu
That nice little hill just outside of Bubu Pharmacy, where you can find Glaze Lilies strewn about and the night view is quite nice. It's a place the two of you go just to get some quick, fresh air if Baizhu isn't feeling too well. Changsheng is left at the pharmacy from time to time, this is one of those times.
"I've been thinking...how precious time really is," he looks at you with tenderness in his eyes, yet a lot of uncertainty shrouded in them. "I don't know where this road will lead me... but you alone are my lifelong remedy. Would you accompany me on this journey?"
Cyno
Cyno often comes here to watch the sun set, since he was a student, but he does think it's more beautiful at night.
The two of you are leaning over the railway and looking at Sumeru, just talking about the day.
Cyno doesn't really plan it. He seems to be the type to but when he feels that it's the right time, specially when he feels it strongly, there's no better time than the present.
It's while he's watching you talk enthusiastically about your day, that there's a sudden twist in his heart. This is the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.
"Y/N--" he cuts you off successfully, wonder in his eyes. "What do you say to being intertwined for life?"
Dainsleif
Anywhere where there is an unobstructed view of the stars and night sky, but particularly at the hill of Cape Oath, where the two of you lie side by side on the grass, staring up at the stars.
At this point the two of you have been travelling together for a while, looking for answers to his curse. To Dainsleif, the two of you are pretty much married already, but just to confirm it, every night, he asks "Is this the path that you choose? To bind your fate with mine?"
And every night, like a promise, you say yes.
Diluc
Diluc doesn't stray far from home too. He prefers to stay close to his memories, no matter how painful they are.
He HAS planned it, but ends up proposing at an unexpected time.
It's when he's on the road home and you're waiting right by the lamp post for him. It's late. Later than usual and here you are worrying about how it's a cold night and that he should've worn more.
It's at that moment that it hits him, "Y/N, the thought of being separated...it's not something I'd want to imagine" he grips your hand tightly. "...For the rest of my life, it's you that I want to spend it with,"
Doesn't even have the planned ring on him and apologizes about the word vomit he just did. He was just overcome with emotions right then and there.
Gorou
That small spot next to Bourou Village. Watatsumi Island is beautiful in general, but Gorou knows the good spots.
Is nervous but tries not to show it, but you can totally tell because he's way too stiff.
"Wh-What do you mean? Nothing's wrong!" When asked if everything's fine.
When standing at this spot though, his nervousness seems to go away and for a minute everything is normal until... "H-Hey, Y/N, so..." you look at him and he's fumbling with his hands, unable to meet your gaze. "Y-You, and I--We've been...You know--"
Seems to panic. He is SO uncool right now. Closes his eyes and just blurts it out when he realizes this isn't working out "With all my heart, will you marry me?!"
Heizou
Little secret garden just next to Inazuma city. Quiet place yet you can hear a bit of the hustle and bustle in the city.
Heizou is the type to get on one knee and confidently, directly say it.
He's planned it, and gets you right in the middle of the bridge (has probably asked someone to take a photo as well)
"Y/N, beloved," grins "would you unravel the mysteries of life with me?" (thinks it was such a cool line, then hands you the ring in a box)
Itto
Does not think about it nor plans it. Just happens and it happens because he talks about it casually. You can't really tell if he's serious.
He has this conversation with you in Chinjuu Forest, which is a naturally beautiful place, but he's really only there with you to look for onikabuto.
"You know, it'd be really cool if we could keep doing this huh?"
You ask what he means cause you don't really have any idea. You guys have been doing this for ages. Why would it stop now, is what you think.
"I mean, like, you know, forever," he says this while looking under a rock. "Like if we were just onikabuto fightin' partners forever, get it?"
You stall for a moment and wonder if he knows what he's saying, and you ask if he specifically means he just wants you as an onikabuto fighting partner.
"Oh, well, yea it's ONE of the things I like about you, but I like your kisses too. Hehe," scratches the back of his head then looks like he gets a bright idea. "Oh hey that's an idea! How 'bout we just become partners for life, Y/N?"
Yeah, that's how it happens.
Kaeya
Kaeya keeps it simple, but also romantic. He gets that spot above the gate of Mondstadt, where you can see Barbatos' statue from a distance. He knows how much you love the city and he has a special place in his heart for it too.
The two of you pretty much keep each other warm up there, with him behind you and his arms wrapped around your shoulders.
At some point, as the two of you have been talking for ages and when the perfect silence descends, he leans into your ear and asks you to close your eyes. When you do, you feel him slip something onto your ring finger as he says "A thousand words wouldn't be enough to tell you how I really feel...Would you want to create a thousand and more memories together instead?"
Kaveh
Kaveh thinks its only appropriate to propose at his masterpiece, but he thinks you're even more of a masterpiece than anything he's made or encountered before.
Plus the place just holds a lot of meaning and memories for him. It's beautiful too and you've always said that you're proud of him for completing it.
His is a pretty simple proposal. "I've always thought that something's been missing in my life...I think I've figured out that it's you, Y/N. It's only going to be you,"
Kazuha
Inazuma holds a lot of memories for Kazuha, some that are rather unpleasant. But home is still home and perhaps he wanted to create more good memories there.
Truth be told he could have proposed to you anywhere, and I don't think he had really planned it. It was just something heartfelt that he wanted to say as he sees you climbing up the stairs to the shrine. The sunlight hitting you perfectly and the sakura blossoms just cascading around your form. It's perfect, he thought.
You're a few steps further up from him and it makes him look up at you the slightest bit. With a shine in his eyes and a smile on his face he asks, quite sincerely "Have you ever felt like home was right next to you, Y/N?"
and before you could answer he answers his own question first. "I have, despite the storms and catastrophes I've gone through...Y/N, you're the home that my heart forever needs,"
Lyney
Lyney plans it, but doesn't do it in a grand way. He just wants it to be sincere and special. He thinks this place is cute, what with the little sort of gazebo with a small sitting space to just sit and drink tea.
He proposes to you as the two of you sit, you've never been here before and wonder why the two of you are out here, actually.
"Oh, is it strange? Haha, I just wanted a bit of a change," Rubs the back of his neck and starts to feel nervous.
You explain that you're not complaining, just curious, but you like it!
"Oh, that's a relief. I'm...Uh..." sort of fumbles with something in his coat, really funny seeing as he's a magician and is supposed to be nimble with his fingers. Recovers quite fast and manages to do his classic "flower-behind-your-ear" trick and hands it over to you.
He does the same trick, but this time takes a ring out. "Y/N, you complete me in ways words can't express...will you..." gulps before he continues "marry me?"
Neuvillette
Seems very posh but prefers to keep it simple. He thinks its more special rather than making a super grand gesture. He could of easily proposed in front of the Opera Epiclese, but instead did it at one of the small fountains in Marcotte Station.
The two of you are out on a nightly stroll and this is just where the two of you ended up.
Clears his throat before starting, takes your hand in his, but its his eyes that really do the talking. "I may not be the best in expressing my deepest thoughts and emotions...but there is one single thing that I am quite sure about," he stalls here and seems to look into your soul.
"And it's you, my love. As I take my next steps into this life I lead, I would be honoured if I take them with you by my side,"
Scaramouche
Has it on his mind but doesn't particularly plans when or where he's going to say it. Just knows that he wants to.
While out on an assignment the two of you pass by Mawtiyima Forest. You've always thought it looked like such a magical place. You request to sit on a hill for a bit before moving on.
Scaramouche, as usual, grumbles about this but relents and ends up plopping next to you as well. Truth be told he also liked this particular forest and how quiet yet vibrant it was.
No words are exchanged for a while, just the two of you looking at the view. Scaramouche sneaks a glance at you and you have that stupid, wide eyed look on your face, the glowing blue mushrooms reflecting off of your eyes.
He secretly thinks its cute.
He shows that by aggressively saying. "I don't know what you had in mind when you agreed to come with me, but you're stuck with me till the end now, got it?"
Yes. That's pretty much his proposal.
Tartaglia
Is one who would take you on a vacation off on an isolated, quaint and cute island like Petrichor with wonderful views of Fontaine's waterfalls.
Is the type to get down on one knee while this beautiful background is in sight. Totally plans it and is the cliche, basic proposal. Would totally love the townspeople to clap and cheer while this is happening too.
"Y/N, every day spent with you is a treasure, and I want it to continue for the rest of my life, will you marry me?"
Thoma
Has planned it. Makes sure you have a good time beforehand, probably at some festival and it's when the two of you are winding down, sitting on that rock with the lamp on it that he asks.
"Isn't it magical?" he asks as a starter and you ask what exactly he's talking about. "How it's always a good time and how easy life seems when I'm with you,"
You tell him that's because he always takes good care of you and he laughs heartily at that. "I'm glad to hear it," kisses your forehead and smiles down at you.
"Every day, Y/N, I just fall deeper in love with you...Do you think, maybe, we could spend our whole lives together?"
Tighnari
Plans it and is calm about it. Has everything under control. He chose Pardis Dhyai specifically for its aesthetics and specifically the inside in case it rains. (He doesn't want you to get wet as he proposes, but also doesn't want his ears and tail wet as it happens.)
Clears his throat before he starts, doesn't have a ring because he just doesn't seem the type, for him its more of a pact.
"Rather than talk about emotions alone, I'd want to highlight that you've been quite the mind-stimulating study partner," coughs into his hand "but of course, that's only one aspect of you that I like...it's safe to say that I like you enough to propose the pact of marriage...would that be alright with you?"
Venti
Where else would he think was a good place to propose? Of course he would do it here.
No roundabout way of saying it. Confident in all aspects, partly because he's a God but partly because...what has he got to lose, really?
Doesn't really propose marriage cause...he's not a mortal. Forever might be a thing for him but maybe not for you.
"It's been a while since I've felt really at ease with someone, you know?"
You jokingly say he seems to be at ease with everyone, specially after a few bottles of wine. He laughs out loud at that, and remarks back that no one can make him laugh the way you do.
"It's blossomed into something more beautiful than I thought it would be, Y/N. You, me, and us. Can we stay like this till the end?"
Wriothesley
Has planned it and has stuck to his plan. At a little vacation home at the Southeast of the Beryl Region. The two of you spent a few days relaxing there, under the guise that Wriothesley needed a break.
On the last day he surprised you by revealing that he had asked your family and friends, both from faraway regions and nearby towns to come and celebrate with the two of you.
Celebrate what, you ask.
That's when he gets down on one knee and pops the question "You know, I could still be mistaken," he grins at this but is clearly joking. "but I don't think I am and seeing as you've put up with me, Y/N, I think it's safe to say you're my forever person,"
It was days after when you realize how confident he is of this whole thing when you think about the fact that he had pre planned to invite all your friends and family over to "celebrate"
Xiao
Also a person who doesn't stray far from home. The rooftop of Wangshu Inn is actually quite romantic on quiet nights, with a view of Liyue and a gentle breeze.
To Xiao, marriage isn't really about a ring and signing papers. It's a contract and a promise to each other.
On one of the nights, he just thinks it's the right time to say it.
He's more quiet than usual and you ask if something's wrong.
He pauses for a while before answering. "...Apologies, there's a lot on my mind..."
Xiao has become a lot more open with you through the years.
"...I... just wanted to propose the prospect of being...binded together," you ask what that means cause you're not really familiar, you end up asking if that's the same as marriage.
"M-Marriage? Uh... Yes... I suppose that's what mortals call it... but being binded together is more..." stops talking and gets red in the face. "Let's... just leave it at that,"
I like to think that the process of binding is just that your souls are entwined together...So when one of you passes, you still remember them in your next life, type of thing. Cause if you're a mortal, chances are, you'll die earlier than Xiao. Anyhow, that's a completely different story.
Zhongli
Zhongli prefers the quiet and the nature. This is probably part of your occasional stroll when the two of you need some quiet time.
Zhongli, with how long he has lived, also doesn't see marriage as the normal get-down-on-one-knee-with-a-ring-thing, but for him, it's a contract. It's more binding than anything in the world.
"Y/N, we've walked this path countless of times before," he starts as the two of you continue to stroll. You reply saying that you like this particular area where the bamboos are.
"Is that so?" suddenly stops and looks at you. "In that case, would you care to listen to a proposal I have?"
Clears his throat when you give the approval. "As I've said, we've walked this path countless of times before..." he takes your hand in his "but for me, who has lived longer than you, I've traversed this path for even more times," he closes his eyes. "Yet, with you by my side, this path changes. It transforms into something resplendent. As if...every time had been the first time I've walked through it. It is with you, Y/N, that I discover life anew, despite the thousands of years I've lived. Would you consider forming a contract of lifelong partnership with me, and only me?"
End
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the greatest heist
james potter x female!reader
summary: when james's girlfriend decides to fuck with you, your only other choice is to fuck with her.
warnings: eventual smut! 18+ heavy angst, cursing, wearing, jealousy
a/n: this story was an OLD draft and i kind of wanted to finish it so yeah. i hope you enjoy and as always, i apologize if you hate this!
THE sun peeked through the curtains of your dorm room, casting a warm glow that made your bed feel like the most comfortable place in all of Hogwarts.
You groaned as you felt someone shaking your bed, a voice calling out urgently.
"Y/N!” They yelled again, the bed shaking more forcefully.
“For fuck’s sake!" you mumbled, sitting up and squinting against the bright light. "What do you want?”
"Wake up!" Dorcas stood there, clearly annoyed. “We have astronomy in two minutes!”
That definitely jolted you awake.
You practically leaped out of bed, catching sight of Dorcas rushing to button her shirt. “Fuck!” you exclaimed, quickly slipping into your tights and skirt.
“Why did nobody wake us up?” you asked, frustration bubbling as you glanced at your roommates. It was a mix of annoyance at them and yourself.
“Bloody fucking twats,” Dorcas muttered. “I’m going to stick my wand so far up their arse once I get to that tower.”
“Count me in,” you replied, hurriedly putting on your shoes—still not fully laced—and adjusting your tie.
You grabbed your book bag. “Come on!” Dorcas urged, already heading for the door.
You both practically ran to the stairs, unready for the most strenuous workout of your life. You both huffed in frustration as the stairs moved.
You looked up at the seemingly endless flights of stairs, frustration boiling over. "These stairs are a fucking safety hazard," You hissed. "Do they not care if we die?"
Dorcas crossed her arms, panting slightly. “Dumbledore is definitely getting my letter of complaints,” She ranted. “I mean, I understand we’re young wizards and witches, but Merlin, are these stairs really bloody necessary?”
You chuckled as the stairs set in place and you both rushed to the top quickly.
You both huffed, clearly out of breath as you both pressed on, each step feeling like a small victory.
With a force of urgency, you opened the door to your Astronomy class as the entire class turned their heads to you. You could hear several students snickering, specifically the Slytherins as you flipped them off.
Professor Adair turned to you both with a sigh. “Nice to see you, ladies. May I gift one of you a watch for Christmas?” He asked sarcastically, prompting a few snickers from the class.
Desperately trying to catch your breath, you replied, “Apologies, Professor. I’m afraid my alarm didn’t go off.” You quickly took your seat next to Sirius, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.
“Mine too!" Dorcas argued, "And to be fair, I mean this class is pretty high.” She moved next to Dorcas.
Professor Adair rolled his eyes, continuing with the class with a mutter about the two of you.
“You know,” Sirius leaned into you, “If you need a proper alarm-“ He slyly said, hand almost touching your thigh.
You stomped on his leg as he groaned, touching the injured limb.
“Note taken.” He hissed.
You smirked as you started writing down a note in your notebook which you made into a paper plane, flying it over to Lily.
She looked at you hesitantly, opening it.
Why did you not wake me or Dorcas up?
She looked at you, looking confused as the angry look on your face never faded. She began writing down her response which she sent to you.
Emma told us all that she would wake you both up and when she came to Astronomy, she said she did.
A fuse blew inside of you, of course Emma was behind this. It makes sense that she would be the one to do it considering how she treated your entire friend group.
For context, Emma was all of your supposed “best friend” which would be a fine label if she didn’t sabotage anyone who she thought was a threat.
At first, she considered Lily a threat because of how much others loved her especially James Potter. So instead of asking Lily to put a good word in for her with the others and James, she started spreading horrid rumors about her.
And everyone being cruel teenagers believed her, berating her wherever she went.
It took the entire girl group and the Marauders to make people back off and debunk these rumors.
Although you and the rest of the girls knew that Emma had done this, she had gaslighted Lily into thinking that it was obviously some bitter Slytherin that were jealous instead of her and eventually, the situation turned boring and died down into nothing.
But that wasn't even the end.
Soon after, she considered Mary a threat due to how smart and confident she was and decided to get her absolutely hammered before OWL'S.
And it caused her to get a poor score which resulted in her not leaving her bed for weeks.
But again, Mary had blamed herself and told everyone that it was "her stupid decision" that led to this.
After that, it had been Marlene.
Then suddenly, it had been Dorcas.
And now you were clearly her new target for what reason? Merlin knows.
The only reason she didn't wake Dorcas up was because she knew she couldn't single you out. Emma knew you disliked her from the moment you met her and you weren't as nice about it.
Now, you may not know why she was targeting you at the present moment but the boy in front of you laughing with Remus could've been a huge clue.
James Potter.
Golden Boy, Heart-throbber, Fit, Kind, Funny, Brave, Determined, Bold.. I mean did you really have to go on?
The man that Emma had been in love with for years and had been dating for the present moment.
And not only was no girl allowed to approach James without dealing with Emma but she would pay hell for even making eyes at him.
Unfortunately for you, James had been struggling a bit for charms and enlisted your help in studying. At first, you had gave him a 'fuck no' before moving in order to not get his girlfriends wrath but when he pleaded and begged,
You forfeited.
You were hoping that he would keep it a secret but James being the dumbass he is mentioned how much of a good time it was to the entire group, Emma grew as red as a tomato.
You mentally cursed James, knowing that your life was already going to become a living hell.
Fortunately, you kept most stuff to yourself and never confided in Emma with anything.
There was nothing that Emma could do to incriminate you with but you just knew that she wouldn't back down and there was nothing you could do.
You did do your best to keep away from her but Lily couldn't stop hanging out with her which made the rest of your group completely vulnerable.
At the same time, you couldn't blame Lily for being so gullible and kind-hearted but it made her a pushover and Emma could guilt trip her way out of anything.
So if Emma was going to play this game, you were alone.
And you had to be the best player.
The bell chimed, bring you out of thought as you began packing up.
Emma came over to you, "Y/N! I'm so sorry that I didn't try harder to wake you and Dorcas." She hummed, "I thought you were fully up by time the time I left." She faked a sincere smile.
"Yeah Emma, I think it would be best if you never enlist yourself to such a task again, I'm afraid it requires a bit more of a brain hmm?" You sweetly said, leaving the conversation as she scowled towards you.
You rushed over to Remus, "Remus, please tell me you have the notes for this class." You pouted, grabbing ahold of his arm.
"Of course." He told you, beginning to grab his notebook out of his book-bag.
"Thank you so much," You gratefully said as you began walking with them.
"Wait, why didn't you ask me?" Sirius asked, pouting.
You let out a snort, "Have you seen your handwriting?" You derided as James and Peter laughed.
Sirius fake sniffled, "One day Y/N, you will appreciate my beauty and brains." Sirius dramatically hair flipped.
"You know there's nothing up there." James said, knocking on Sirius's head as Sirius swatted his hand.
You rolled your eyes as Remus handed over his notebook to which you thanked him with a kiss on his cheek.
"Hey! Wheres mine?" Peter asked, "I gave you the notes for potions."
You rolled your eyes again, giving Peter a peck on the cheek as well.
Your eyes locked onto Sirius, already knowing what he was gonna say, "Well, you just insulted me, I think you owe me one." Sirius said, tapping his cheek.
You clenched your jaw, pecking his cheek quickly as he grinned from ear to ear.
"Wait where's mine?" James asked as your eyes widened, "Don't wanna be left out," He fake sniffled.
"Your girlfriend will quite literally harvest my organs." You scarily said, putting the notebook in your bag.
"It's just a kiss on the cheek!" He argued as the whole group shook their head.
"Mate, I'm going to have to agree with her on this one," Sirius patted James on the back, "She will bloody kill Y/N and us for letting it happen." Sirius said.
There was a rumble of protest in his throat but a part of him knew that you both were right. He didn't want you to be faced with the fire on Emma based on his actions.
"Fine, guess you guys are right," He muttered as he dragged his feet.
You groaned, reaching over to James and pecking him on the cheek as he grinned.
“Everyone's been kissed now,” you sighed, your voice trailing off in frustration. “Can we just—” But before you could finish, a sharp voice sliced through the air.
“Y/N!” Emma screeched, her anger prominent as the group recoiled, hissing in surprise. She stormed toward you, her face flushed with rage.
You were begging Merlin that she hadn't seen the peck you gave to James.
“Did you just kiss my boyfriend?” She laughed harshly, her grip tightening on James's arm as he shot you an apologetic look, guilt written all over his face.
“Oh, maybe it was Sirius instead?” You quipped, trying to deflect with a joke, but Peter’s snort only deepened the tension.
“Real clever,” Emma shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she stepped closer, invading your space. “A good friend wouldn’t do that, Y/N. I don’t take betrayal lightly.” Her tone was sharp, a warning laced within it.
You matched her intensity, moving closer until your breaths mingled as you spoke, “And I don’t take threats lightly.”
“Okay, let’s all just calm down!” Sirius intervened, wrapping an arm around your waist while James did the same to Emma, but the heat between you and Emma crackled like a campfire, neither of you backing down.
“It was just a peck, sweetheart,” James cooed, wrapping an arm around Emma as you rolled your eyes, arms crossed in disbelief.
Emma pouted, “You know how protective I get about you.” She nestled into his chest, and the sight made your stomach churn.
“I know, baby,” he said with a smile, holding her close, while the rest of the Marauders looked on, barely able to stomach the scene unfolding before them.
“As entertaining as this little drama is, I need to get ready for the party tonight,” you announced, desperate for an escape.
"The party isn't until tonight!" Peter said, confused.
"Mentally prepare!" You joked.
“Wait!” Emma’s voice pierced through your thoughts just as you turned to leave, and you sighed, bracing yourself for her next act.
Her expression shifted, all sweetness now. “I’m sorry for misreading things with James,” She said, feigning concern. “I know you’ve never had a boyfriend,” She added, her tone dripping with condescension. “But, you can get a bit... jealous. But we’re friends, right? So I shouldn’t act like that.”
You clicked your tongue, suppressing the urge to roll your eyes even harder.
“And as your friend,” She whispered, pulling you into a tight hug, “I just want to warn you. If you so much as talk to James at the Gryffindor party tonight, I’ll make your life a living hell.”
She released you, her smile wide and disingenuous, and before you could even muster a response, she skipped back to James, leaving you fuming.
Fury coursed through your veins as her words echoed in your mind, the unfairness of it all burning like a fire inside you.
Ever since Emma had walked into your life, she had fucked with everything around you.
Your friends, your reputations, your social life, hell even your sanity.
And if nobody else was gonna put a stop to her.
You guess it would have to be you.
-----------
Are you really ready to wage war with her?” Dorcas chimed in from the closet, her tone skeptical.
“Dorc,” You began, frustration creeping into your voice. “Emma has been terrorizing us since third year. Are you seriously going to tell me that taking her down doesn’t sound appealing?”
She sighed, contemplating. “Okay, fine, you’ve got a point. But how exactly are you planning to take her on?”
A sly smirk crept across your face as you revealed the outfit you’d picked: a black corset paired with the shortest black skirt you could find, topped off with fishnets. Dorcas’s jaw dropped sarcastically. “So, you’re going to out-dress her?” She asked, incredulous.
“No,” You replied, rolling your eyes. “I’m going to use her worst fear against her. I’m going to seduce James.”
Dorcas nearly choked. “Do you have a death wish?”
“Listen, I would never usually even consider looking at another girl’s boyfriend, but this is different. James is the one thing that will shatter her, and honestly, it sounds cruel, but so is she!” You shot back, your resolve hardening.
“And if she tells the whole school what you’re doing, you’ll look like a homewrecker and be exiled,” Dorcas countered.
“Which is why it has to look like it’s all James’s idea,” You insisted, undeterred. “He’s been my friend since childhood; it’ll look innocent.”
“I don’t think this idea is as foolproof as you think,” Dorcas muttered, slipping into her red dress with an exasperated sigh.
“Dorc, trust me, she can’t hurt me,” You reassured her, the fire in your belly fueling your confidence.
“Well, if everything goes south,” Dorcas said with a reluctant smile, “I’ve got your back.”
You beamed at her. “What would I do without you?”
Just then, a loud bang echoed on your door. “Hurry up before all the firewhiskey is gone!” Marlene called, her voice a mix of urgency and excitement.
You and Dorcas shared a laugh, gathering your belongings and heading down to the common room, adrenaline buzzing in the air as you prepared to face the chaos of the night ahead.
The lively atmosphere of the common room was a familiar backdrop for you all; it felt like there was always a party, whether an event warranted it or not. You, Marlene, and Dorcas scanned the room and spotted your usual crew gathered around the couch. With a burst of energy, you hopped right next to James.
His eyes widened in surprise as he took in your outfit, but before he could say anything, Sirius swooped in.
“Y/N, have I ever told you how much I’m attracted to you?” He drawled, causing you to snort.
“Eyes off, Black,” You shot back playfully, just as Marlene whacked him with a pillow.
“Why do I even try?” He lamented, sinking dramatically into his chair.
Marlene grinned mischievously. “You know, I’d sleep with you, Black.”
Sirius’s eyes went wide. “Really?”
“Yeah, if you pay me and wear a cloak,” She teased, sending the group into fits of laughter.
Sirius scowled at Marlene while Lily pinched his cheeks, only for him to swat her hands away with a playful glare.
“You do look good, Y/N,” James murmured, his voice sincere.
You turned to him, arching an eyebrow. “Now what did I do to deserve a compliment from James Potter?”
He chuckled softly. “Well, after what I put you through this morning, I think you deserve more than just a compliment.”
“Speaking of this morning,” you leaned in closer, lowering your voice, “Where’s your girlfriend?”
James shrugged, a hint of frustration flickering across his face. “We got into a fight after you left. I tried to talk to her about her manners,” he said, his tone casual but the weight behind his words was clear.
“But you guys were literally snuggling when I left,” You laughed, trying to lighten the mood.
“Yeah, well, that was before I realized how messed up her behavior was. Jus'... embarrassing, you know?” He gulped down his drink, and you couldn’t help but notice the guilt etched on his face.
It twisted your heart, seeing him upset. James was your best friend, and the thought of anyone hurting him made your stomach churn.
You hated seeing him like this, torn between loyalty and the flaws of the person he cared for. It felt like a heavy weight was pressing down on both of you, and all you wanted was to lift it.
"Well," You spoke as he looked at you, "If you want me to forgive you, I think a dance would do," You said, standing up and extending a hand to him.
A goofy smile plastered on his face, James said, "Anything for M’lady’s forgiveness."
You scrunched your nose at his corniness as he took your hand and led you onto the dance floor. He twirled you around, making you giggle before pulling you back in to sway together.
"You’re such a dork," You snickered.
"And how many years have I proven that to you?" He shot back, laughter in his voice as you rested your head on his shoulder.
His fingertips grazed your back while you swayed, and he whispered in your ear, "I miss us hanging out."
Outside of Charms tutoring and classes, you never got to see James and it always hurt you. You both knew why you couldn’t and voicing it would only make it worse.
But it had been hard not having a proper hangout with just the both of you since third year.
You felt warmth spread through you, flustered. "I miss hanging out with you too."
Looking at him, you noticed how beautiful he looked—his messy hair and that infectious grin. There was always a gleam in his eye, and everything about him radiated warmth. It felt like summer when you were together, and butterflies filled your stomach.
You knew he was just your best friend, nothing more. And that would always be the truth, as long as you told yourself that.
Suddenly, James twirled you again, but this time you spun out of his grip and fell onto the suddenly slippery floor.
You fell with a hiss, "Shit!" you moaned, wincing in pain as James rushed over with the rest of the group, the crowd parting to give you space.
"What the fuck happened?" Sirius asked, concern etched on his face.
"I don't know!" James replied, kneeling beside you. "She just slipped!"
You hissed as you tried to stand on your sprained ankle.
"Let me see," James muttered, inspecting your foot as you groaned.
"Maybe it's her leg," Marlene added.
"Well duh," Sirius shot back, earning a playful hit from Marlene.
"Can we just get her to Pomfrey?" Lily huffed, and the boys nodded in agreement.
Sirius tried to rush over to you, but James waved him off. "I got her," he said, lifting you bridal-style.
You winced at the jolt to your ankle, nuzzling into his neck as you caught a glimpse of Emma in the back of the room, her expression burning with rage.
You knew then that the games were just beginning.
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Don't They Know a Rabbit Can't Cry
Synopsis: while travelling the witches' road you're forced to confront the two witches who left you centuries ago without an explanation.
Pairing: Agatha Harkness x fem!reader x Rio Vidal
Words: 2.3k+
WARNINGS - swearing, choking, knives, nightmares, brief mentions of burning and being buried alive and playful use of 'mommy'
It's a quiet evening as you pluck wildflowers in the wake of the setting sun. You would have to head home soon; to avoid the danger of navigating your way back in the dark. The older witch did not like you being out alone at night but you weren't quite done yet. The bouquet had to be perfect. Not that she would ever say otherwise. not to you anyway. Too soft. Too sweet. She had a soft spot for you. They both did. You twist the delicate stem between your fingers. Lavender. Beautiful. Intoxicating. And... hot. Sizzling against the pad of your pointer finger and thumb. And searing into the skin. You drop it quickly. Flames swallowing the single flower. Bizarre. You take another. plucking it from its spot. Flames shoot up from the ground surrounding you entirely. Red hot and roaring as the flowers make way for beautiful flames that dance in the breeze. Creeping closer and closer. Quicker and quicker. Until you feel it burn against your skin.
You jolt up. Sweaty and warm in the night's cold embrace. You're safe. Right now at least. No fire. No nothing. You rub your temple. Just a nightmare. They'd been more frequent as of late. Little flashes of the past engulfed in fiery fury. Fitting. The makeshift campsite was still. The ashes of the small fire dance in the breeze. Witches litter the ground in a moment of respite. You didn't know them but you imagine they're quite desperate. Most weren't brave enough to even dare travel the witches' road anymore. Pushing up you decide to go for a walk. Not far just enough to feel the cool air and calm your heart. Away from prying eyes. There wasn't much around here anyway.
"can't sleep?" it's a startling thing. To hear such a familiar sound so abruptly. It brings with it a quickened heart. A look of surprise. that voice. An unpleasant reminder of the past. That's all this trip seemed to be. A constant trip down memory lane. In many ways, you wish you had never agreed but maybe your darkened heart may still hold a few soft spots.
"just needed a minute alone,"
"That's a dangerous game around here," there is a playfulness to her tone. one that makes your jaw tense.
"can you just go away?" you ask. "I can't- I can't deal with this right now."
"playing hard to get?" just as playful but different. Still familiar. Annoyingly so. "what happened to that sweet girl who brought me flowers every day."
"don't," a threat. You wished not to relive the past right now. Not with them. They didn't deserve to remember you so fondly.
"made us little flower crowns." her voice travelled the woods. Surrounding you from all directions. Trapping you in your spot.
"stop."
"used to bring us fresh bread."
"fuck off," you bite back with an equally sharp turn. Subdued anger began to rise at the mere sight of them. Agatha Harkness. The harbinger of your nightmares. The years had been kind to her appearance but if rumours are to be believed she had a dark reputation. Evil. Soulless. Murderer. Maybe in another lifetime, you would have disagreed. A green witch stood to her side. Far enough away for you to know they weren't on good terms either. She sported a signature smirk you wanted to slap away. Rio Vidal. Infuriating in every conceivable way. They both brought different feelings. Similar but still different. "why can't you just leave me alone?
"we're only checking on you, dear,"
"After such a scary nightmare." Rio teased. "do you need to get in mommy's bed tonight?"
You take a deep breath. Don't raise to her level. Don't give her the satisfaction. It's not quite admitting defeat but you're tired. Falling against a nearby tree. "please leave." you let your head fall back against the bark.
"I'm sure Agatha won't mind,"
"leave the poor girl alone," as always Agatha comes in to mediate. It's always just a little misleading. The woman crouches down before you. Glassy eyes bore into yours and for a moment you're that girl again. The one they remember. Who picked flowers and planned picnics? Ran in the meadow and liked to sit at the edge of the lake. Who held on tight to Agatha's hand as she walked you home. You didn't have much back then. Lived in a small cottage in the woods with your family. The older witch came into your life so abruptly. Looking back on it now she probably just saw a naive girl she could play with. "are you okay?" her question brings you back to reality. The here and now. Stuck on the road with a bunch of washed-up witches and the two people you hate most in the world. Stuck in a never-ending cycle of reliving the past. The end seemed so far away. Who knows if you'll even make it that far with this useless bunch. "do you wanna tell us about it?"
"Agatha," said softly.
"yes, dear?"
"fuck. Off." quiet but firm. You can tell she wasn't expecting it. A little chuckle sounds from behind her. The witch raises.
"fine." Agatha answers. "forgotten how stubborn you can be." your eyes trail after her as she begins to walk away, Rio takes a moment before following. And the question that has been bubbling in your chest for centuries finally comes up.
"Why did you leave me?" they slow to a stop. Yet to turn back. Did you even really want to know the answer? Perhaps it was a question best left unanswered. Years of bitterness already seeped into your bones. Little to be said to make you less angry at them. Less murderous rage. "what did I do?"
"Nothing," Agatha urges. Short and simple. No explanation needed apparently. "don't stay up too late,"
"then why?" you asked again. a little louder. A little firmer. Why was she acting like this? Pretending she cared. It was infuriating.
"Just tell her," Rio presses, turning back to you.
"don't," Agatha places her hand on Rio's shoulder but that doesn't stop the green witch from sulking towards you. A malicious little smile.
"come on, look at her," a knife pointed in your direction as she makes her way over. "just as pitiable as she always has been." she crouches down in front of you much like Agatha had before. But you don't see that girl you once were. Her eyes fill you with anger. It's strange to think you used to admire her so. Used to put flowers in her hair, and she let you. The tip of her blade forces your head up ever so slightly. "A pathetic little girl. Scared of the world," a sharp pain. You swallow hard "scared of anything real."
"Rio," Agatha walks up, towering over you two. "put it away,"
"Why should I?" she wonders. Pressing a little harder. "tell her."
"What happened to you?" Agatha questions. Your eyes flicker up to her. Did she really want to know or was it diversion. "where does this hate come from?"
"you left me," you reply. A loud bark of laughter from Rio as her blade lowers.
"no," the woman shakes her head slowly. "that's... not it."
"boring," Rio groans loudly. "I didn't lie, y'know? I know you don't want to believe me but it's true. Isn't it Agatha?" the woman rises to her feet. Patting the other witch on the shoulder. "we left because you were weak."
"it... it wasn't quite like that," Agatha offers out a hand. You brush it off, standing up. "we thought you'd be better off."
"alone?"
"without us." Agatha corrects. "you were so..." her eyes trail over you. "different back then. You didn't know you were a witch. You were just so..."
"innocent," Rio insists.
"no- well, yes but not in the way you might think. You just needed a push and we were being so careful,"
"soft," Rio interjects once more.
This little game of back-and-forth was cute. But you didn't care. Rio was using it as an excuse to get some sick sense of pleasure from throwing in insults while Agatha was doing anything to avoid saying what she thought. You knew Agatha. She could be just as mean as Rio. "can you get to the point?"
"you already know," you ignore Rio, looking straight at Agatha.
"We wanted to protect you," you can't help but roll your eyes. That was the best excuse she could come up with. Some fairytail bullshit. "felt easier to leave." you glance at Rio who looked just as over it as you did.
"Agatha thought you'd be better off without us. That we shouldn't be dragging you into a world you weren't ready for. Blah blah blah. Too weak to come with us. If we left you wouldn't get caught up in anything bad,"
"Rio was actually the one who didn't want to go,"
"Whatever," she huffs. Her gaze down at the knife in her hand; twisting the edge against the tip of her forefinger. "I thought it'd be worse if we just left you. that it'd fuck with you- we just needed to be harsher."
"but I was right,"
"you were wrong," Rio answers.
"How? I mean look at her," Agatha ushers towards you. "a full-fledged witch. Survived centuries. That's something. You didn't need us."
"do you wanna tell her or should I?" you wonder if Rio is genuine in her question or if this was just another attempt at teasing. This conversation had mainly been between the two of them.
"Tell me what?"
"I wasn't... okay, Agatha," you admit for perhaps the first time ever out loud. Only Rio knows what happened to you in the years between them leaving and the last time you saw her. You made sure of that. The two of them had grand legacies but you wanted to be forgotten in history. Like the legend of Bloody Mary. Not a sole dare speaks your name anymore because who knows what'll happen if you show up.
"oh bunny," a pet name you hadn't heard in a very long time. It almost seemed childish now. Pathetic. "just talk to me."
"you don't care,"
"god do I have to do everything around here," Rio complains. "she was tried as a witch, Agatha. Use your head for once."
"Rio," you huff.
She rolls her eyes. "burned at the stake."
"Rio," you snarl. "stop. I don't wanna talk about it."
"yes you do," she responds sharply. "you want nothing more than to make Agatha Harkness feel guilty for leaving you. Hurt her the way she hurt you." you dart for her in one swift motion. A hand around her neck. The teasing just becoming too much, and you were sick of hearing her talk.
"you hurt me too," you bark, shoving her against the nearest tree. What should be fear is instead a small smirk and dark eyes.
"fiesty," she quips. She knows you won't kill her. You can't.
"you're the only person to ever leave a mark." you resume. "an ugly scar that my body just refuses to heal."
"come on sweet one." you drive a little harder. "make it hurt."
"do you know what it's like to be tied up and buried in a coffin? To slowly suffocate to death over and over and over again," fingernails dig into the skin of her neck. You can see it's having an effect. The wobble in her smile. "the way your body screams for oxygen. Your insides burning with desire but there is nothing you can do?"
"drop her," Agatha's hand reaches your shoulder and your powers kick in. Your free hand waves her away. Energy blasts her backwards and she stumbles to the ground. A lesser witch wouldn't know of Agatha's ability to drain magic but you were smarter than that. careful in your use despite the speed. control what's around her rather than directly blasting her.
"don't touch me," you growl.
"our... little girl... is all grown... up," choked out of Rio's mouth. You watch her grow a little paler. A little more starved for breath. And then you drop her. She crumbles to the floor. "and filled..." she coughs. "with... murderous rage... apparently."
"calm down," Agatha tries from her place on the floor, as she tries to get up. You use your magic to help her up. Leaving her hovering just a few feet off the ground.
"y'know, when they dragged me from bed and burned me at the stake all I could think about was you two. Surely, they didn't just leave without a word. They'll... come back and help me." you can still picture that night. The confusion. the heat. The pain. "you left me," you walk towards Agatha. "and look at you now. The great Agatha Harkness is completely powerless."
"we're sorry, okay- aren't we rio?" rio shrugs a little. With a heavy sigh, you drop Agatha to the ground. "you've come a long way bunny."
"wasn't really a choice,"
"Can we just backtrack a little," the older witch requests. Brushing herself off as she stands back up.
"immortality looks good on you," Rio teases. You hold up a middle finger.
"you're immortal?"
"for the longest time, I thought one of you cursed me with it. Some fucked up way of protecting me. But then I went looking for you. Heard all about your extra circular activities. Witch killer, hiding behind dark magic," Agatha just looks back as you turn to Rio. She knew the story. "Rio was easier to find,"
"should have stayed dead," Rio insisted, the cold metal blade dancing across the scar on your neck. "how easier that would be," you shove her away and she just chuckles. "oh how I missed this," she wonders over to were Agatha is stood.
"I'm going back to sleep," you announce. "let's just leave it at that,"
"Why did you come," Agatha asks. You wonder if it's worth the conversation. The headache of continuing to engage with them. "if you hate me so much?"
"to die," you say eventually as you head back to camp.
// NEXT
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