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bbyseok · 9 months ago

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at first sight? — GOJO SATORU

pairing: gojo satoru x gn!reader

word count: 10k (idek i was possessed)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

well. except for one.

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

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

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

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

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

so imagine his surprise when he sees you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

but you simply smiled up at him.

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

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

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

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

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

was it really worth it?

what if he couldn’t protect you too?

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

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

and never will.

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

and that he doesn’t like you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

nanami doesn’t respond, rolling his eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“can i borrow you for a sec, nanami?”

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

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

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

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

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

who knows, indeed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

megumi hums.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

she shrugs again. “your call.”

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

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

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

you, in fact, cannot handle sweets.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“he’s on a mission where??”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“kikufuku.”

you stare at him, confused. “what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“gojo satoru.”

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

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

“it’s nice to meet you, gojo.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“the one from the countryside?” gojo hums.

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

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

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

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

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

you eye him. “hey, gojo?”

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

you hesitate. “wanna grab some kikufuku?”

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

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

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

satoru doesn’t dare to look down at you.

“care to join me?”

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

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

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

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

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

he snorts. “yeah, i can.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“hey, that one looks like you!”

“hah?!”

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

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

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

“yeah, we are.”

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

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

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

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

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

fuck.

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

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

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

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

she snorts. “well, it is my job.”

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

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

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

“they’ll be fine,” she says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“d’you have a soulmate?”

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

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

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

you wake up in the morning with a splitting headache.

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

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

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

gojo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you straighten up. “what?”

“kidding, kidding!” he snickers.

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

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

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

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

“satoru.”

“what?”

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

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

(he does too.)

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

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

he likes the way his name sounds from you.

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

oh.

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

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

keep saying his name.

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

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

(a lot of people have noticed actually.)

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

the teenager eyes him narrowly. “yeah.”

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

“heh, i guess i am.”

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

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

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

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

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

he’s wearing his glasses.

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

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

and then he’s gone.

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

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

“what the fuck was that?”

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

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

and you don’t know why.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“hey, what was that the other day?”

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

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

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

that’s the thing. you just might.

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

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

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

“we’re soulmates,” satoru blurts out.

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

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

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

“how long have you-”

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

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

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

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

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

unfortunately, the higher ups have also noticed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

your heart drops.

it’s a grade one curse.

something’s not right.

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

you.

something’s not right.

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

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

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

you’re going to die.

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

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

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

satoru?

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

satoru, it’s satoru. satoru is here.

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

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

“satoru, we need to head back.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you did hurt me.”

gojo trembles. “i know.”

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

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

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

your heart skips a beat.

gojo satoru is your soulmate?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

satoru’s breath stutters.

“you haven’t seen my eyes.”

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

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

your confession has him stilling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

he’s kissing you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you have me, ‘toru, you have me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

that’s okay.

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

BONUS!

“you owe me.”

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

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

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

satoru is clinging onto you like a sloth.

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

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

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

“‘toru, not here!”

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

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

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

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

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akutasoda · 7 months ago

Text

in the morning light [genshin ver]

synopsis - what it's like sharing a bed with them

includes - diluc, kaeya, albedo, beidou, baizhu, alhaitham, kaveh, neuvillette, wriothesley

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, still have no clue what im doing, might be ooc, wc - 2.2k

a/n: can you tell im bored? anyway how is everyone?

diluc ragnvindr ★↷

↪to absolutely nobody's suprise, he didn't actually get much sleep. most would assume that the reason for this would be running angels share or the dawnery and such, but it was mainly because he acted as the 'darknight hero'.

↪he always encouraged you to go to bed and not wait up for him because he never knew how long he would take. however, diluc couldn't get mad at you for staying up as he found it endearing that you were so insistent on doing so.

↪diluc does have a rather important public image to uphold and so he tries his best to maintain a night and morning routine, but sometimes the night one does go a miss. it's simple yet very effective for him - you know he gets the absolute worst bed hair known to man.

↪the neatest bed you've ever seen, it's always pristine whether he made it or not. has no issues compromising for what you'd like either, he'd even assist you in making the bed to your liking rather than his.

↪initially, he prefers to have his own side to the bed - mainly because he gets up early and goes to bed late so he doesn't want to disturb you. but over time he gets a tad bit too comfy and prefers to have you swamped in his embrace.

↪a light sleeper and not that much of a mover, he either stays completely still or occasionally shuffles around. although when he does shuffle, his hair can tickle you and accidentally wake you if you're a light sleeper yourself.

↪unfortunately, diluc sometimes can wake up rather abruptly due to some certain nightmares, but he always tries not too wake you.

↪human heater. most summers are spent with the bedding completey stripped away because he gives off a lot of body heat, so cuddles are rare unless you don't mind feeling like you're being cooked alive.

kaeya alberich ★↷

↪has the best routines you've ever seen, that is if he bothers to do them. he's very vigilant when doing his morning routine but sometimes he comes home from angels share a bit too tipsy to do his night routine.

↪as mentioned, he spends quite a few nights down at angels share and so he either comes home late, assisted by an annoyed diluc, or you have to go fetch him. admittedly he has gotten better since you've been around though.

↪most days he does get up fairly early, but on his day's off he's not budging. good luck getting up yourself because you're not leaving until he decides he wants to get up - which he will then proceed to wake you up.

↪the messiest bed, sure he makes it occasionally but sometimes he just can't be asked. uses way too many pillows and blankets but is very accommodating to your needs and wants.

↪a complete opposite to his brother, but he is practically a human freezer. unfortunately kaeya is quite cold to the touch so if winter comes around he always puts more blankets and duvets on the bed just so he can still cuddle you without you complaining that he's going to give you frostbite. he also can give you quite the wake up in the morning by how cold he is.

↪can be unconsciously really clingy in his sleep, im talking having some part of him touching you at any time - full on cuddles, holding hands, or even simply intertwining his legs with yours. he claims it helps him sleep better, especially when the nightmares come calling.

↪only downside, is that he can be extremely obnoxious. he moves around so much and unfortunately that can wake you aswell, especially when he ends up upside down and spread out across the bed and such. also can be quite the snorer if he allows himself to fully relax around you.

albedo ★↷

↪admittedly, he spends many nights up at camp in dragonspine and he understands that the freezing weather isn't for everyone - so he doesn't blame you for staying in mondstadt. but sometimes he knows you'd probably prefer for him to be back in mondstadt with you.

↪but if you choose to stay with him in dragonspine, he decides to upgrade the usual camp cot that he uses. he might not be able to feel the cold but you certainly would and the very last thing he'd want, is for you to catch a cold or worse. although there is a nice feeling of finally returning home to you.

↪albedo does have a simple nightly routine that he follows and same goes for his morning routine - although admittedly he can get a bit too carried away with his research and completely miss his routines or sleep in general.

↪he practically stays still entirely while he sleeps, it's almost scary as sometimes you forget he's there. he also doesn't really understand if you want to cuddle while you sleep but he'll indulge you.

beidou ★↷

↪she either goes to bed alongside you or later at night, normally she only comes to bed late if she stays up celebrating with the crew or is on some kind of voyage. most nights she does want to go to bed with you.

↪keeps any routine, morning or night, to a simple yet effective routine. yes she wants to keep up a good appearance but sometimes she just doesn't have the time and so she always goes for the same quick routine.

↪due to her bed being on her ship, she has the bare minimum as beidou doesn't really see a point in going all out. however, again, very willing to let you do whatever you want to the bed as you are sleeping in it aswell and she doesn't mind one bit.

↪can be somewhat clingy in her sleep, she loves holding you close and you can't exactly overpower her grip - it worsens when she does have a bit too much to drink when celebrating as she practically drapes her entire body over yours at all times.

↪a mix between a light sleeper and heavy, normally she's quite light but sometimes she gets a bit too tired.but either way beidou does shuffle around alot, most nights she ends up completely spread out across the entire bed.

baizhu ★↷

↪the doctor spends alot of time managing the pharmacy and other affairs and so even he would admit that he doesn't get as much sleep as he needs, especially when he can get easily fatigued. changsheng gets better sleep than he does.

↪normally by the time the day draws to a close, he's pretty exhausted and so he tries to go to sleep at a reasonable time after. he has somewhat of a nightly routine but it mainly focuses on managing his condition. same goes for the morning.

↪his bed is surprisingly really comfy, even changshengs is. he would prefer if you only messed with your side of the bed because he can be a bit particulate but if you really wanted to, he'd let you.

↪sometimes his condition can give him a rather uncomfortable night's sleep but he tries his best to not let it affect you. but otherwise he can become an extremely heavy sleeper because sleeping is one of the only times where he can truly rest.

↪very rarely his condition may get a bit too much and so he does have to isolate himself until it subsides. although now that you're in his life, he realises how lonely it can get without you.

↪he likes to keep contact to a minimum, perhaps holding hands or having your legs interwined. maybe further down the line, he'd be more inclined to indulge in cuddles if you preferred.

neuvillette ★↷

↪he wakes up quite early and never really wakes you, but if you need to get up he will get you up. however, on an extremely rare day off, he stays in bed with you a bit longer and subconsciously pulls you closer.

alhaitham ★↷

↪sometimes the scribe stays up late, sometimes he doesn't. staying up late could be due to akadeymia work or because he's busy reading up on his own interests. although he only really goes to bed early if you are.

↪his routines are basic but they cover the essentials, he spends more time on his nightly routine because he's normally more rushed in the morning.

↪his bed is rather basic, only really contains the essentials. he doesn't care what you do to make yourself comfortable, as long as you don't do anything stupid than he entertains you.

↪very prone to late night reading, most of the time he sits beside you completely emersed in his reading. alot of the time he does fall asleep in the middle of reading.

↪isn't one for physical contact but eventually might cave to your demands if you really want him to, although when he does you're convinced he enjoys it more than you do. although he does barely move in the night.

↪normally wakes up quite early, with some quite bad bed hair, but he normally leaves you to sleep unless he knows you have somewhere to be. although on his day's off, he indulges himself in your sleepy presence and he brings you closer and falls back asleep with you in his arms.

kaveh ★↷

↪it's no suprise that the architect can sometimes pull all nighters when he gets a well paid commission, much to your dismay. although most nights he does join you when you go to bed or earlier than you but he prefers you fi be there aswell.

↪his bed is extremely comfy and very well organised, most of the time. sometimes when he's pulled a few all nighters he can forget to sort his bed but most of the time he does.

↪his routines are also dependent on his sleep deprived state. if he's pulling all nighters, then his routine is very simple or virtually nonexistent, otherwise his routines can be quite extensive.

↪clingy. on purpose. he doesn't mind whether he's the big spoon or the small spoon, as long as he's cuddling you he's fine. in the morning when he's not fully awake, he can whine if you try and pry yourself away from him before he's ready to get up - he doesn't ever really need to get up super early.

↪a mix between a heavy sleeper and a light sleeper, can also shuffle around a tad but not much of an issue as long as you aren't an extremely light sleeper.

↪when you first stayed the night at neuvillette's, you wondered why on tevyat was his bed so big. it seemed almost comical for one person but you didn't exactly complain as it was extremely comfy.

↪however, further down the line, as he started to really trust you, you realised that it was because he preferred to sleep in somewhat of a dragon form as he claimed it was much more comfortable. and it certainly was for you, he was surprisingly comfy to sleep on.

↪if he has the time, he enjoys taking his time with a nightly routine and he enjoys doing it alongside you, should you also have one. again, same goes for his morning routine - although that one is always much shorter as he is needed quite early.

↪as mentioned, when he gets much more comfortable with you, he sleeps in a semi dragon form. however he's much more likely to fidget and shuffle around in such form, mainly his tail which sometimes wakes you up.

↪however, when he sleeps as is, he doesn't move at all. neuvillette does enjoy cuddling in both forms though, at first he didn't exactly understand why but he quickly grew accustomed to it and came to enjoy it much more than he thought.

wriothesley ★↷

↪alot of the time, he returns late at night. he doesn't exactly find spending the night at the fortress ideal, sometimes he does have to however, and so he doesn't mind traveling back late, although sometimes he wishes he could come back a tad bit earlier.

↪normally, he doesn't have an efficient amount of time to have an extensive night routine but he does in the morning if he wakes early enough. especially because he also falls victim to bed hair.

↪his bed is normally quite basic yet comfy. so he actually enjoyed it when you started changing things to your liking as it gave a bit of character.

↪clingy, on purpose. he always claims that he doesn't get to see you much since he's at the fortress all day and so he refuses to let you go. he always gathers you unti his embrace and when he knows you're safe in his arms, he can relax.

↪always extremely reluctant in the morning, he doesn't want to leave the comfort of the room and so when he has an extremely rare day off, he refuses to let you go and indulges in your presence much longer - all with a smug smile when you try and leave.

↪extremely light sleeper and sometimes does like to shuffle around, and of course you unfortunately will move around with him as his grip refuses to let up.

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn

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theartingace · 5 months ago

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Your centaurs differ pretty wildly from the base DnD centaurs, but what I am curious about is old people. DnD centaurs travel in migrations that last generations and just leave the old or infirm behind to keep on (at which point they become Chiron types); how do your centaurs handle the elderly?

I actually had no idea that DnD centaurs did that, kinda cool, kinda wild cultural practice?? While I have always encouraged folks to use my workarounds and patches for centaurs in their TTRPG games, I actually have very little idea of what ideas are already in any of the systems that do actually include centaurs! my advice on centaurs is usually much more niche daily life stuff than most game developers and story writers tend to delve into.

For my centaurs the elderly are treated much like any human elder, what do you do with them? You cherish them!! Particularly with my centaurs, who across all their cultures depend a lot on family and group dynamics to compensate for the challenges that come with having a horse body. So elders would be an important font of knowledge and cultural memory! Now MY centaurs in particular tend to be pre-history to medieval style cultures, with access to higher medicines pretty much limited to the Port city of the Merchant's culture so living to a super advanced age would be fairly rare, but that would just make those who DO get to that age generally more important and respected (at least according to Nana)

As mobility issues arise with advanced age, there's lots of options to keep Nana mobile and healthy, from supportive corsets and harnesses to support the back to senior comfort hoof trims and special shoes- but most end up opting for being (literally) carted around in small wagons by the grandkids. Or the more independent minded seniors may drive their own carts with pet ponies and donkeys (or even goats!)

Of course wheelchairs are also an excellent choice to help with mobility at any age!

And even in my semi-nomadic Rider culture, elders are simply packed up with the yurts and tents and travel in the carts that way. No reason to leave them behind when you have stuff to be carrying anyway in my opinion!

#centaurs #asked and answered #worldbuilding #elder care #in which as usual I yap too much #new doodles!#because i couldn't resist the temptation #to draw some gummy lil old centaurs #cherish your elders people!!#i think the reason i get so into worldbuilding for centaurs #is because so many other systems #just treat them as smart monsters #or just Chiron #but a herd of him #more fun to me to explore a person #with the power and size of a horse #and how they navigate that

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lostinlovingrevery · 17 days ago

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Logan and his... "Quirks"

Everyone is a lil weird. Logan is no exception

Some nsfw headcanons below the cut, it gets weird yall. some are tame. the rest are questionable. You're gonna ask me why i was thinking about it. you don't want to know

he CANNOT sit farthest away from the door. he has to be between the door and you. yknow in case of threats

feel like he would hate microwaves. idk why, i think he would extremely distrust the idea of food being heat up by radiation (Even if it wouldn't affect him?). he cooks everything by hand.

Don't let him catch you heating your food by microwave. He'll get pissy. then he'll make your food by scratch

uses phrases that were popular like 100+ years ago that no one knows. you've had to google some of them to figure out what the hell he was talking about

he taps his fingers alot. against a table, his leg, on you. it's an anxious thing

he doesn't laugh much but when he does it's loud, hes the epitomy of the word "guffaws" bc he's so loud. most of the time when you hear him "laugh" its a quiet chuckle. it's quite joyous to hear Logan across the mansion laughing

logan, as much as he acts like a wild man, is fairly neat. like, weirdly neat about his stuff. well- stuff he cares about. his jacket, his cigars, beer, maybe a few things you gave him. he doesn't need much.

this one isn't so weird, more cute- but he loves when you pet his head. only when it's just you two though

his nails grow faster than an avg person. He constantly has to clip them. BUT he does at least make sure to clean them up

i should add that logans is obv known for calling everyone bub, and gives nicknames to everyone

(he'll call you every petname in the book)

has to have his bed made in the mornings. he gets weirdly cranky if he or you don't make the bed and it's messy when going to bed that night (the man leaves his dirty laundry all over the room but doesn't like his bed not being made???)(nesting...)

hates the smell of incense (too strong) but he doesn't mind a few of the vanilla smelling candles. or the outdoorsy type ones

def will pick up new hobbies at random and then drop them (ahem i do that to)

doesn't finish his beer. he'll have a little left and go open a new one anyway

he acts like he's so gruff but he's actually like so polite about things when in someones house/the mansion. it takes you aback how nice he'll be. (x2 logan was just a bit stress don't worry about him raiding bobbys parents fridge)

ill add his fear of flying in here too

honestly he probably just doesn't like heights in general. he'll do it, go in tall buildings, planes, all of that (as well as we all seen) but don't catch him sightseeing out of the 70th floor of the skyscraper yall are in

he probably likes to wear all those layers because he doesnt let his hair grow out like he could. have you seen how much hair he can get? he keeps himself trimmed for you (if you want to call it that). the layers protects from the cold he gets from not being a hairy beast (let him be hairy)

oral fixation... i'll put this in nsfw

this isn't really weird...but he's able to sit in silence for a long time. just watching the view (you)

hes not an early bird. he'll get pissy if you are, because he wants you in bed with him. (people gotta work logan...)

leaves a clean plate of food. he doesnt like waste.

likes to grab you. hes gotta be holding onto you. even if he's single he's gotta be doing something (smoking, tapping his foot, leaning on someone), when he's with you though, you're his grounding.

NSFW

will drool during sex. he tries to control it. sometimes you feel too good though-

gets incredibly horny after missions. good luck.

also when after he goes into a burst of rage. good luck with that too

honestly he just has a high sex drive. he's a bit of a freak. it's not every time but rarely does he not get hard around you- at the scent of you

The moment you wake up in the morning, logan tells you "your period started" before you even have a chance to even fully wake up, only to realize that indeed you did start your period

he could smell it

dude is really intense about smelling

when it comes to you though he's REALLY intense about it. you know how dogs are when they smell you after you come home. logan is no different

can and WILL smell your armpits and feet if he gets the chance. it may gross you out but shits heavenly to him because thats where you smell the strongest. if you don't let him smell you he'll go for the laundry

your neck too

the man leaks so much pre-cum just at the thought of you. you'd think he came right there in his pants

does not care about you walking into him in the bathroom. he has no shame

honestly id think he'd like footjobs. not because he's got a feet thing- but like feet is where your strongest smells come from and if you...do that. his thang will smell like you

will eat you out and do you on your period btw. no shame

i don't think logan will say no to much in bed, except for the really disgusting ones, or the ones inviting other people in. he's not going to share you, or himself.

definitely has a thing about mounting you. he doesn't do it all the time but sometimes he'll lose himself and next thing you know is biting your neck and thrusting you doggy style, grunting and whining, and he won't stop till he's satisfied. the others have expressed worry over the deep teeth marks in your neck (Is he trying to maul you? - Scott)

doesn't like washing the bed sheets after you two do your thing. will complain but you have to bc you both are fairly active together in that department and you do not need your bedsheets become solid like rock. he just likes the scent :(

loves it when you lick his hands/knuckles

i think we all agree, the claws COME OUT when he cums. hes extremely careful about his hand placement bc of this.

back to oral fixation. if he doesn't have a cigar, toothpick, gum, his next best thing is you.

will SUCK on your skin. hard.

This is all i got for now, some probably really aren't a quirk but my brain was just typing what I could think of...might make more. Feel free to reblog and add your own!!

pain kink. a bad one. we all agreed on this i believe.

You know how animals have displays to attract mates? Logan is no different. When hes in the mood, hell puff himself out to you, do things he thinks youll like. I mean, i suppose avg males do this too but logan gets repetitive over it until you notice.

#logan howlett #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett fic #vans daydreams #logan howlett smut

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year2000electronics · 6 months ago

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Bill & Ford & A Book, Oh My!

DISCLAIMER: The Book of Bill has Bill Cipher serving as an unreliable narrator. If we go out trying to say something is "definitively a truth" or "definitively a lie", we're going to keep arguing about it until the heat death of the universe. This is just my own personal interpretation of the source material. If you don't agree, that's fine! Also TBOB spoilers abound.

So it's no secret that interest in the dynamic Bill & Ford have (enemies, platonic, romantic, formerly romantic, whichever way) has really skyrocketed since TBOB's release. Of course, there are the 'easy' culprits to point towards, with Mabel referring to Bill as 'being like a needy ex', and the whole O'Sadley's fiasco (Him literally crying over losing Ford and going "one Sixer, please"? Messy. Messy behavior. Still, I think it goes so much deeper than that.

Bill, being the unpredictable chaos entity that he is, also serves as the main antagonist for a show about family and having close bonds with each other. We don't really need to look into his inner psyche that much, because that's just not what he needed to be doing at that point in the cartoon. He's meant to be a way to divide the Pines, really. And a silly little guy. A silly little obstacle. So, naturally, when it came to Bill's arguably "closest" relationship to someone in the show (Ford), it was very easy to interpret it as Ford being tricked by a completely apathetic Bill, who was just using him as a rung on the ladder. And I do want to stress that Ford and Bill's physical actions remain fairly consistent throughout interpretations, and focusing on the fact that Bill badly hurt Ford is important, so if that's how you still see it, then fine by me! No harm no foul!

But I think the relationship, their story, their tragedy just becomes so much more interesting with the lens The Book of Bill has presented. We’re finally able to see Bill’s perspective as a “protagonist” of sorts in a medium where he’s not just something to defeat- and that’s something we’ve never gotten before, so it’s shedding light on an area we didn’t know about for sure! Again, Bill is lying to the character of "the reader", so we can't trust it as a completely unbiased source. But we can speculate on where the "truth" is between these lies.

First of all, Bill's backstory was that he destroyed his home dimension- we knew that already. But now, with the extra content we have about it, we see something interesting- that Bill's backstory mirrors Ford's to an uncanny degree.

Both of them champion their intelligence, although they highlight how it set them apart from others, as well as highlighting their own 'rare mutation/birth defect'.

Again, with this self-isolation already spurred on from their "weirdness", but also as a little aside, I would also like to highlight that Bill being 'ready to be one', looking up at the stars, striving to 'reach' them, is a shared motif he has with Ford, who is also associated with space, the stars, and reaching them.

Bill's 'trying-really-quick-to-convince-Ford' fantasy sequence even has him in a field of stars as a sort of "ultimate wish fulfilment". Remember, this is Bill showing Ford something he thinks would win Ford over, at least a little.

(And I'll take a quick time out for this train of thought to point out- hey! Bill admits he sought out most of his other victims, but Ford summoned him, and it took him by surprise! That adds a fun little layer of complexity to everything, don't you think? Another little layer of humanity for this whole mess- Bill didn't expertly seek out the 'perfect victim' or anything, it was just... luck. Some twist of fate.)

Anyways.

Obviously, the intro page to the 'Sixer' section has a ton of red flags galore (I mean, poor guy's literally depicted as a hapless puppet. C'mon, Bill. Not to mention the "OH BOY HE'S ALREADY SO ISOLATED, IT'S PERFECT" thing.). This guy is kind of a terrible companion no matter how you slice it. He's terrible to everyone close to him, because he's a deeply traumatized character who refuses to heal. BUT, the wording here is kinda deliciously intriguing to me. All of humanity is Bill's puppets, his future victims, but to me, it's clear that he holds a fondness for Ford. From "This is what a partner looks like", to "Me and Sixer could be the perfect team", to "He had what I always wanted- fingers" (drawn to his strangeness, maybe?), "He was destined for so much more", "I looked at his futures and giggled", and most stand-out to me, "Society calls these people freaks, I call them Henchmaniacs!"

Going back to the pre-Book of Bill era I was talking about, Bill's offers for Ford to join him were always in a sort of murky territory for interpretation. The first offer could definitely be read as mocking, with the line "WITH THAT SIX-FINGERED HAND, YOU'D FIT RIGHT IN WITH MY FREAKS!" in particular making it seem like Bill was only saying that to rub Ford's strangeness in his face, and the second offer to join Bill being under a new circumstance- that now Bill is desperate and believes Ford is the only one who can help him. But the Book of Bill mentions the idea of Ford becoming a Henchmaniac more than once, and also has Bill upset at losing Ford and claiming "he'll be back", as well as Bill seeming to use "freak" more like a badge of honour, and having previously complimented Ford's six fingers (In the Sixer intro page, he highlights Ford's fingers as a quality he likes, and in the pages about bodies, he states that "humans should have more fingers". To me, that first offer reads more now like Bill being genuine about finding Ford a place among his misfits. ...Although, the moment Ford says no, he does zap him into a statue. So. Y'know. He's still got issues.

(Yeah, again, red flag city. "Just hazing"? Bill, none of what you were doing over there was okay! You might have suppressed everything traumatic that happened to you, but that doesn't mean you can go around traumatizing everyone! Good lord.)

Bill has already been imply to like other characters because they remind him of himself. Pointing towards a connection with a character Bill DOESN'T have a weird undefinable ex-partner thing with... Mabel! Alex has says in multiple official media and interviews that Bill sees a lot of himself in Mabel, and essentially, that he thought Mabeland was the perfect prison because if HE liked all that awesome, uncontrolled chaos over any family or friends, why wouldn't SHE? And we see that again in TBOB. So basically, what I'm saying is that we have two characters to back up the fact that Bill seems gravitated towards humans or other living beings that he views as being 'like him'- beings he can relate to! So, y'know, what does that say about Bill and Ford?

There's also Bill's plans for the reader and "Weirdmageddon 2.0", where he portrays the reader as getting to, like, perch on his arm like a little bird and get their own little crown? And specifically calls out Ford for not going through with things?? Okay, Bill??

AND Ford not only being the only human mentioned on the list of people he "definitely doesn't miss so stop asking", but also having his own category? Alright, man.

Of course, another point to the 'Hey, maybe Bill can actually feel emotions towards humans besides complete and total apathy' club is this page here, which has ALSO been hotly debated! Certainly, we know he's telling the truth about his home dimension being destroyed, and we know that he's lying about the 'monster', but some interpret this scene as Bill not being remorseful at all and playing his reaction up to earn Ford's sympathy. And me, personally, I dunno if I agree. I feel like the specific inclusion of Bill "looking distant, more distant than I'd ever seen him" (Mirroring the fact that he keeps blacking out when thinking about all his large-scale massacres) and him "laughing joylessly", I think this sequence is meant to tell us that Bill actually is being vulnerable with Ford here, it's just hidden under layers and layers of deceit, whether towards himself or Ford or both.

And finally for my Book of Bill collection stuff, there's the stuff that could be read as more romantic in nature. In the 'love' section, Bill claims he doesn't love anyone, but, like-

Come on. You can disagree with me that it's Ford, but he does have exes. And he's clearly not over them. Shrimpy little liar. And then there's the fact that a lot of his hokey 'advice' is stuff he ends up directly doing to Ford.

These rats.

The Love Cage.

The Book of Bill really outlined all that in bold, but in my opinion, it was never an entirely new revelation! Bill seems to hold a preference for Ford over other humans in the show. He shows up in Ford's dreams just to say hi, tease him, and gloat (Mabelcorn) unlike the other two dream appearances he's made (Dreamscaperers, Sock Opera) which were exclusively for business purposes. Unlike every other character that gets exclusively one nickname for their zodiac sign, Ford gets multiple (Fordsy, IQ, Sixer, smart guy, brainiac, the list goes on). Bill asks Ford to join him TWICE, whereas anyone else who tries gets their face rearranged, put in a cage and made to dance, frozen in stone, etc etc. And finally, I think, the most emblematic of Bill's weird, specific relationship with Ford, is that whereas everybody else gets turned into stone, Ford got turned into gold.

Which kinda sums up their whole thing up pretty well? Bill gave him special treatment by turning him into a golden statue (similar to yellow ha ha), always holding him close, but, like... Dude. You still kidnapped a man and turned him into a statue and then threatened to kill his niece and nephew. I don't think it will change his opinion on you if he's the Most Pampered Hostage, Actually. I just don't think that we need to explore the relationships between characters as simply "Well, this character hurt the other one, so we shouldn't really think about why or what they feel personally, because what they did was bad, so there".

Bill & Ford interest me because they're a tragedy in motion. We can see that Bill and Ford mirror each other in a multitude of ways, and we can see that they both do have positive feelings towards each other at the time they meet, and we see that Bill very desperately wants Ford to be just like him in the unhealthy ways; the ways that make Bill destroy entire universes and compartmentalize it all, because maybe then, he can finally have the companionship he so deeply aches for. Bill and Ford both had tough, lonely upbringings, but Ford moved on from that "I don't need you" mentality. That's what saved him. Bill didn't, and that's what got him where he was in the end. I feel like that's just so much more interesting than Bill just being a flat entity that makes abuse Happen to Ford, just as another Event in his life. I mean, isn't it just SO much more interesting that Ford humanizes Bill, in a way? That Ford makes him- in Bill's own words- "sentimental"? That a chaotic dream demon has regrets and loves and favourites and connections? It's the same thing with Fiddleford & Ford, although, obviously, to a MUCH lesser extent than Bill & Ford. But you get what I mean, right? You know that Fiddleford and Ford are going to undo each other in the end, and the path to that downfall is... it's telling a story! I like the story of it all! I think that's what I've been invested in and intrigued by all these years- the story, the tragedy of Bill and Ford. No matter what form it takes.

(Plus, as tumblr user fordtato pointed out in their own essay (not tagging because this post is messy enough as is oh god), hey, Ford now has two incredibly queer-coded narratives, with one of them being about how he recovered and was able to heal from an abusive relationship. And, well, I think that's just neat.)

Anyways, that's the end of the post. Thanks for reading this long!

#gravity falls #the book of bill #bill cipher #billford #analysis #book of bill spoilers #gravity falls spoilers

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berrymarkie · 6 months ago

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gamer | l.hc

————————————————————————-

genre : smut

warnings : fingering , spanking , hair pulling , multiple creampies , unprotected sex

hiii everyone! im so sorry for literally disappearing for a whole month. 😭 i just lost motivation for a while but i wanna start writing again! unfortunately, i lost access to most of the requests i received over the last month due to my own lack of experience using tumblr. i am still fairly new to the app so i am still learning how to navigate my drafts, requests, etc.

any new requests would be greatly appreciated!

well, this is nice. you come to visit your boyfriend and instead of you occupying his time, it’s a computer game. what could possibly make a game so fun? you swear he’s been playing for hours at this point, rarely even taking glances in your direction. you haven’t seen eachother in a week and he’s acting like he couldn’t care less about your presence.

“hyuck” you sing out, as you crawl to the end of the bed to be closer to where he sits. he hums in response, not even looking at you. “wanna cuddle?” you ask while giving him puppy dog eyes.

he looks at you for a moment and then turns to the screen again before speaking. “you know i’d love that. but, there’s a time limit on me getting this super rare gun.”

a gun? seriously?

“you can’t cuddle for just a little bit?” you whine dramatically. he chuckles and shakes his head. “im sorry, baby.”

you sigh and crawl back to the middle of the bed. laying down on the fluffy blanket you were previously wrapped in. you open your phone and start scrolling mindlessly, hoping to pass time so maybe haechan could finally give you attention.

you find yourself going through your camera roll, more specifically your videos. most of them being of your dog, sometimes pretty scenery outside. you come across one video in particular, a video haechan took on your phone.

shit, you look so pretty like this. want me to fuck you, hm? my pretty girl is so wet for me.

the audio plays quietly from your phone, just loud enough for you to hear over the sound effects on haechan’s game. you quickly swipe to the next video and see his face, his bare shoulders glistening with sweat as he roughly thrusts into you, his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. he looked perfect, so handsome.

great, not only are you wanting to simply talk with haechan, but now, you’re also horny. now craving something he most likely doesn’t want to give at the moment.

you want his attention, and you want it now. you decide to take off a few layers, hoping to maybe catch his eye. you crawl over to the edge of the bed and lay on your stomach. wearing just your bra and panties, you prop your ass up a bit higher, hoping he’d see that first if he glanced at you.

“what are you doing?” he asks, not looking away from the screen. “im not doing anything, why?” you say, making yourself sound way more innocent than you are.

“oh really? then why are you half naked, staring at me.” he chuckles and finally looks at you, taking in sight of you. “uhm, it got hot? i think you’re looking into things too much, hyuck.” you coo at him and blink cutely.

“am i now?“ he shakes his head, his jaw slightly tightening. “mhm, you’d better get that gun anyways. it sounds… exciting.” you say softly, trying to fight back a stubborn smile.

he clicks his tongue and looks at you again, shaking his head and chuckling. you look back at him, raising your eyebrows. he suddenly gets out of his chair and sits down on the bed, pulling your legs across his lap, ass up.

“what are you doing? don’t you have a time limit?” you ask, your voice filled with fake urgency. “oh shut up.” he growls and spanks your ass roughly. you yelp and bury your face into the fabric of his sweatpants.

he rubs your ass before laying another slap across it. “you wanted it this bad?” he asks, his voice a bit deeper than usual. you don’t say anything in response, just shutting your eyes tightly.

you feel him pulling your panties off of you quickly, leaving yourself feeling a bit more vulnerable than before. he spreads your legs on his lap before slapping the back of your thigh gently. “you all worked up, hm?” he teases.

“hyuck…” you breathe out weakly. he hums softly and rubs his finger along your slit. he spreads the wetness all over your pussy before slowly pushing a finger inside you. you whine at the sudden action, hands moving to his free arm in front of you to grip on it gently.

“so wet. it’s all for me, right?” he whispers. you nod your head quickly in response. “talk to me, baby.” he says softly, starting to slowly move his finger in and out. “okay” you whimper and grip onto his hand tightly, your hips starting to squirm a bit.

he lets go of your hand and holds you down with his whole arm, not letting you move anymore. he starts to curl his fingers every time they go into you, speeding up the pace a bit more.

a soft moan escapes from your lips as he hits a certain spot inside you. “oh, did that feel good?” he asks and repeats the action, this time rougher than before, causing your legs to tremble. he repeats this a few more times before adding a second finger, stretching you out a bit.

“please don’t stop.” you whimper softly as your back arches. “oh i don’t plan on it.” he chuckles and continues to finger you. he starts to move his fingers in at an angle, causing them to hit that same spot perfectly.

loud, wet, squelching noises can now be heard in the room, mixing with the lobby music of the game still running on haechan’s computer. you whimper softly with each push of his fingers, you close your eyes tightly.

“im close.” you pant out as your whole body starts to shake. he starts moving his fingers faster, pushing them into your g-spot nonstop. his free hand moves to your clit, rubbing quick but steady motions.

“cum for me.” he says gently. you moan softly as you feel a familiar tightness in your stomach. you clench around his fingers as you feel yourself coming undone. his fingers don’t stop moving inside you, fucking into you roughly as you cum on them. your legs start to shake even more than they were before, he slowly pulls his fingers out after you completely finish.

he grabs your face gently to make you look at him. he then starts to lick his fingers clean, savoring the taste of you on his tongue. your breath quickens at the sight.

“hyuck.” you whimper softly, he smiles and pulls you to sit up, making you sit on his lap. he grips onto your hips tightly, making you grind into him slowly, your wetness seeping through his sweatpants.

“do you want me to fuck you?” he asks, rubbing one of your thighs while continuing to grind against him. you nod quickly, biting your bottom lip while looking at him. he shakes his head and pushes your hair away of your face.

“you can speak, you know? use your words.” he teases. you breathe in slowly and look at his lips, “yes, i want you to.” you breathe out slowly. he nods and tilts his head to the side. his hand moves from your side up to your chest, gently squeezing your boob through your bra.

“please, i need you.” you whimper softly while looking at him. your cheeks feel warm, probably a few shades pinker than usual. he smiles softly and nods, getting off of you to pull off his shirt. then, pushing down his sweatpants, his bulge very evident in his boxers.

he pushes his boxers down quickly, feeling eager to be inside you. "you ready?" he asks softly while slowly starting to rub his tip up and down your folds. you whimper softly and nod, spreading your legs just a bit more to give him better access.

he slowly pushes into you, a small grunt leaves his mouth as you squeeze around him. "so fucking tight." he whispers while he moves his hips a bit more. he leans down and nuzzles his face in your neck, breathing heavily as he thrusts into you slowly. your hands fall from his arms to the bed sheets, gripping tightly on the fabric.

he continues to thrust into you, hitting deeper with every movement. your breath hitches as you feel him pull out almost all the way. he suddenly pushes back into you roughly, not hard enough to hurt you.

“feel good, baby? fucking take it.” he grunts, his voice deeper than the last time he spoke. you nod quickly and grip onto his shoulder again, your other hand resting on his back. he starts to pound into you, gentle but still rough.

“im close.” he whines out as his hand finds it way lower, eventually finding your clit and rubbing gently. you let out a breathy moan as his fingers come in contact with it.

he speeds up his movements even more, the rubbing of his fingers on your clit start to sync with his thrusts.

“im gonna cum.” you cry out. “yeah? cum for me.” he says softly, not slowing down on his movements at all. your legs start to shake as you get closer. your nails dig into his back as he thrusts relentlessly into you.

you shut your eyes tightly as you feel yourself cumming, you unintentionally clench around his cock as you do so, causing him to whimper and shake his head. before you know it, haechan’s warm cum is spilling deeply into you. he pants heavily, still buried inside you.

he pulls his head away from your neck and kisses your lips gently, his hands kneading your boobs gently. he continues to kiss your lips, the kisses becoming a bit sloppy as he pulls out of you.

he leans back and watches as his cum slowly leaks out onto the sheets, staining them. his breath hitches at the sight, he looks up at you after a while as well, taking in your tired appearance.

he lays down next to you, rubbing your waist with his hand as he breathes heavily. “was that good?” he looks up at you. “yeah, it was.” you smile tiredly.

“we should take a bath before you sleep.” he suggests while looking at you. “no, im so tired.” you whine and shake your head. “fine.” he sighs softly, laughing softly a bit after because of your laziness.

“goodnight. i love you, baby.” he kisses your forehead gently and closes his eyes. “goodnight, hyuck. i love you too.” you whisper softly, your eyes slowly closing.

————————————————————————-

note . . .

thank you so much for reading! i hope this wasnt too bad 😭 i haven’t written anything in a while so this is probably choppy af. i plan on being more active from now on hopefully! (no promises) i also want to thank everyone for the love and support on all of my last stories. i didn’t think they would get as much attention as they did and im so grateful. thank you! 💞

#kpop #nct 127 #nct dream #nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct smut #nct u #nct x reader #wayv #lee haechan #haechan #haechan smut #lee donghyuck #donghyuck smut #haechan x reader

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serpentface · 2 months ago

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I'm artblocked so Here's character sleeping positions + lore

(blankets omitted from the drawing where irrelevant. Assume characters use them unless otherwise specified)

Palo

Habitually sleeps on his back with his hands clasped.

Overheats easily and likes cooler temperatures, his blanket/cloak will often end up completely removed from his body over the course of the night.

Mild insomniac and a very light sleeper. Occasionally sleepwalks.

Smokes hideje (plant with mild sedative properties) as a sleep aid when he can get his hands on it

This seems to have a side effect of strange, disorienting dreams and occasional sleep paralysis.

Tigran:

Sleeps on his side

Needs to be entirely burritoed into his cloak/blanket regardless of the temperature, leaving a little gap near his face so he can breathe.

If it's hot he sticks his feet out for thermoregulatory purposes.

Sleeps soundly but tosses and turns constantly.

Has very frequent nightmares.

Hibrides:

Sleeps on her side

Needs to be hugging a pillow to feel comfortable.

Almost always ends up curled in a shrimp position in the middle of her bed.

Strongly dislikes sleeping (and generally Being) naked, wears old dresses as pajamas.

Likes when Hippeti (dog) sleeps near her bed, at least until he wakes up to loudly lick himself.

Snores.

Couya

Sleeps on her back.

Takes Odonii standard perpetual armament very seriously and keeps any weapons she is actively carrying next to her while sleeping.

Has very lengthy, vivid dreams.

Sleeps on a grass mat by choice even though she can absolutely afford a fabric bed. Doesn't like soft beds and kind of thinks people who do are pussies.

Has frequent back pain (especially in the mornings), which is surely unrelated.

Janeys

Sleeps on his back or side.

Would benefit tremendously from a weighted blanket. An arm works too.

Has a specific phallus amulet reserved specifically for sleeping (for protection against threats like nightmares, nocturnal emission, or other harm from evil spirits).

It apparently works because he doesn't get nightmares a lot and instead gets really, really weird stress dreams.

Frequently talks/yells in his sleep.

Will wither away and die if deprived of pillows or a down mat.

Brakul

Almost exclusively sleeps on his stomach.

Will be splayed out like a starfish if not physically restricted by the presence of another body.

Falls asleep easily and barely moves over the course of a night. Could sleep through an earthquake.

Rarely remembers his dreams.

(Both get cold easily and this scene would be hidden under a notably massive blanket with only their heads exposed in all but the hottest conditions)

FAIZA:

Falls asleep on her back but can end up in startlingly contorted poses.

Keeps the Odonii standard perpetual armament restricted to having her dagger nearby while asleep.

Doesn't really use pillows, considers a down bed more than enough.

Tosses and turns in her sleep, very frequently wakes up lying on the floor.

Sleepwalks on a fairly regular basis. One time she woke up going through the physical motions of giving a blessing (to a wall) and really didn't know how to feel about that.

Etsushir

Not only capable of sleeping like this, but actively prefers it. (This isn't an elowey-typical thing, it's distinctly unusual)

Quite adept in general at falling asleep in intensely uncomfortable looking positions and circumstances. He's just used to it.

Grinds his teeth in his sleep.

Doesn't usually use a blanket (fur provides enough warmth for most seasons anyway) but likes the physical comfort of sleeping in a cloak.

#In general pillows are kind of a luxury good. Beds in this culture are placed directly on the ground usually in the form of mats.#Fabric mats are also Generally a luxury good and most people sleep on grass mats or sometimes hides.#A really really nice bed has a frame to hold a thick down feather mat but is still low to the ground.#A very long cloak is part of the standard clothing repertoire and doubles as a blanket for a lot of people.#palo apolynnon #tigran otto #hibrides uryashta #couya haidamane #janeys haidamane #brakul red dog #faiza haidamane #etsushir

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avelera · 2 months ago

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One thing that's amazing in the storytelling of Arcane S1 is that you can actually chart the hypergrowth and societal polarization caused by Shimmer and Hextech in Piltover and Zaun by how the number of average-looking people among the main cast diminishes.

A proper post on it would include a bunch of pictures and stuff but basically:

Ep 1.01-1.03 you have a few people who look like "main character" outliers, like Vi and Powder with their pastel hair, or Jayce and Viktor with their golden eyes that symbolizes their unique intelligence and shared vision, Mel with her gold accent makeup and stunning looks, Silco has his unusual eye but is otherwise a normal, fragile person, but overall they are rare extraordinary people who make up a small percentage of the population of people with brown hair, normal colored eyes, and fairly average builds.

This is a society more or less in-balance. Singed still looks like a fairly normal, Sevika has both arms and no Hexgem scars, Vi has no tattoos, Vander is just an unusually large but otherwise normal looking dude. He's a little larger than life as a societal figure and that is reflected in his design, because he's otherwise a normal person.

From 1.04-1.09, the narrative is dominated by people who, if you ever saw them on the street, would be the craziest looking person you ever saw in your life. You've got Finn, the tattoed undercity chem baron, and really all the chem barons are crazy looking, you've got Vi and Jinx with tattoos now, you've got Sevika with her robo-arm and glowing blue scars, Singed with half his face burnt or clawed off, Ekko with his facepaint. Suddenly, everyone looks painted or tattooed or extraordinary in some way, and normal people can't keep up anymore. They vanish into the slums of the undercity, if they're like Huck they try Shimmer to feel powerful only to be poisoned and destroyed by it, or like Viktor experimenting on himself.

The whole world is going insane and the only people who can survive are the most extraordinary, and that's not healthy for a society, you shouldn't have to perform at the top, most unusual, most extraordinary level just to survive.

Anyway, one reason I've gushed about S1 of Arcane for years and years is how they intimately tie in the script with the visuals with a wonderful understanding of societal hypergrowth and those it leaves behind and you can actually chart this very disturbing evolution in Piltover and Zaun by how few normal looking people you see as the situation there accelerates to a boil.

#arcane #arcane meta

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stsgluver · 1 year ago

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NOTHING NEW – gojo satoru

synopsis. gojo coming home at 1:43am (nothing new)

wc. 1.5k

tags. fluff <3333, not proofread bc i’m lazy

“baby? hey, i’m home.” there’s a light brush against your nose as gojo gently knocks his against yours, his voice coaxing you out of your sleep. instinctively, your hands reach out to him and he responds by taking both your wrists in his hands to press light kisses to the palm of your hands. butterflies flutter inside of you from the sheer delicateness that your boyfriend handles you with; the same hands capable of unimaginable destruction cradling you like you’re the most fragile ornament. you almost fall back to sleep from the feather-like touches.

gojo had been sent away on a mission, as he so often is, but for once it was fairly local to your apartment so you’d told him you’d stay up for him (even though he insisted he would rather you slept). however, it seemed that as the number of curses increased and their torment escalated, you were seeing gojo less and less and you missed him. he was the love of your life after all, he was meant to be the centre of your universe, not just another planet orbiting your story.

even for just an additional five minutes of his time, you would always wait for him.

so, even though the clock read 01:43am and you want nothing more than to curl up further into the plush sofa, you force yourself to open your eyes. gojo is inches away from your face, blindfold and uniform still on, but you can still feel his gaze on you. it’s full of love and adoration and appreciation. he’s so used to people leaving him and yet here you are on a night when he knows you’ve got work in the morning.

his lips are quirked up as he takes in your pile of blankets and uneaten snacks you had kitted yourself out with in your (unsuccessful) plan to stay awake by watching movies (you think you made it through at least one but you can’t be entirely sure).

“hi,” you whisper quietly, shifting your hands from his loose hold to cup his face. despite the fact he’s on the floor on his knees in front of you and you’re now sat upright on the sofa, he still towers above you, and you have to crane your neck up to be able to see all of his face. his pale skin is smooth under your touch and so so cold and you could only imagine the abandoned school or hospital he’d been sent to, shattered windows and a crumbling infrastructure.

“the bed’s more comfy, y’know,” gojo flashes you one of his usual carefree grins. his movements are slower than usual as he brushes a stray strand of hair away from your face and you know he’s just as tired as you are. you don’t voice your concerns – he’d dismiss them anyways (“i’m the strongest” and all that) – but your thumb gently brushes back and forth as your eyes scan every inch of skin visible to you in the dim light, searching for any scratches or wounds. there never is any.

you shake your head with a quiet hum, “not without you.” there’s a falter in his smile and you know that if you could see his eyes right now, you’d see the softness and vulnerability – a side of himself he’ll only ever be with you. there’d be guilt too – guilt that he’s not there enough and that you’re living half the life that you should be.

“i’m here now,” he sighs quietly and presses one single peck to your forehead. the two of you hold still for a moment, noses brushing against one anothers and breaths intermixing as you just bask in the other’s presence. despite the sweat and grime ruining his clothes, gojo still smells of your favourite cologne and sweets. it’s familiar and smells more like home than the apartment ever could when he’s not there.

it’s peaceful, something he rarely gets to experience nowadays. his joints ache from their constant use and lack of sleep so kneeling before you isn’t ideally what he should be doing, but it’s what he needs if it means to be this close to you.

you lift your head up slightly, just enough to be able to brush your lips against his. it only takes a second before he’s kissing you back more firmly, the barely-there-touches not enough. the kiss is slow and sweet and filled with unspoken affirmations of love.

he only pulls away to breathe and god you wish you could see those blue eyes right now. maybe they’d be staring at your lips, or your own eyes or maybe they’d be closed as he indulged himself in the sparks that your kisses left behind.

pressing one more kiss to his lips, nose, then cheek, you nod your head to the hallway, “can we get ready for bed?”

gojo’s blindfold shifts as he furrows his brows. “you can go to bed, i’ll join you in a minute baby.” his large hand pats down your hair, frizzy from sleeping on the sofa’s cushions. “you’re half asleep,” he adds with a slight tease as your head instinctively drops into his touch, eyes fluttering closed.

“if you think i’m leaving you for a second, you’re an idiot gojo satoru,” you blindly swat at his chest in response of such an outrageous offer. how dare he think the two of you can exist in the same apartment and not be less than a feet away from each other?

gojo chuckles under his breath and took your wrist into his hand, holding it over his heart. “i love you.”

your eyes open and you can’t stop yourself from grinning – like the man before you isn’t your boyfriend of years, like you’re both teenagers again confessing for the first time, “i love you more, toru.” if it were any other night he’d fake offence, starting up a playful argument in which he would emphasise that that was in fact a lie. you’d never be able to comprehend how much he truly loves you. but this isn’t any other night; this is tonight and after three nights without, he thinks he’ll give you this one.

the first thing you do once you’re both in the bathroom is lift off his blindfold, dropping it into the laundry basket next to the sink. you left the main bathroom light on so you are having to rely on the light from the hallway and the moon that spills in through the window.

gojo winces slightly still at the use of his eyes with no barrier between him and the world. you press what you hope is a comforting kiss to his jawline as you silently continue with your own routine – removing any remnants of make up and plaiting your hair.

this is usually how it goes: the two of you simple co-existing as gojo finally lets his guard down, his body finally realising the overuse and lack of energy it had been running on. then, once you’ve pat your damp face down with a towel, you help gojo with his minimal skincare routine.

“satoru,” you say once you’ve almost finished rubbing the moisturiser into his porcelain skin.

“yes, gorgeous?” he hums quietly, the ghost of a smile on his face as he looks down at you.

“i love you.”

he’s giddy when he kisses you again, dipping down so you don’t have to try and reach his height. the kiss only lasts several seconds but it didn’t need to last any longer for you not to feel all the emotions behind it; the ‘i’m sorry i’m not here enough’s; the don’t give up on me’s; the ‘please always be here when i come home’s.

“never stop.” it’s not a demand from the world’s strongest sorcerer, it’s a plea from your tired and lonely boyfriend.

several minutes later and the two of you are curled up in your sheets together. your legs are hooked together as you face each other. initially, you had tried telling him quietly about your day, something to take his mind off of whatever horrors he had experienced whilst away, but your quiet voiced melted into whispers, and your whispers into light snores as you slipped easily into an unconscious state.

“night my love,” gojo ghosts his hand over your cheek and body as his eyes take mental screenshots of every inch of you. he wouldn’t sleep tonight. tonight is all about ensuring that you are okay. he’d never openly admit to the overwhelming fear he experiences every time he leaves you alone – you, gojo satoru’s (the strongest sorcerer alive) girlfriend. he is untouchable, however you are everything but.

so tonight he’d stay awake, to hold you and to whisper sweet nothings as you shift in your sleep unbeknownst because, for as long as he is there, you are safe.

a/n. honestly not my fav bit of writing I've ever done but I found it in my drafts and I did like SOME bits so here you go. next thing I post will either be the next part of snapshot or take me back to before :)

#— toru!!#satoru #gojo drabbles #gojo x reader #gojo #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x you #gojo fluff #gojou satoru #jjk #jjk gojo

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asunsetgrace16 · 27 days ago

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✧ 𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗗𝗔𝗬 𝗦𝗟𝗘𝗘𝗣𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥 ⎥ 𝗙𝗠39

Pairing: Fraser Minten x fem!reader

Warnings: fluffyyyyy, one kiss (I think), one swear

Summary: Y/N stays over at Fraser's for the first time after their usual Hockey Night in Canada Saturday date

Notes: To clear up any confusion, this is a repost of an old post but I have been doing some blog maintenance and have changes how I answer fic requests.

Thank you so much for the request! I love writing for Minty and there is a lack of Minty content on here. I also made up the entire game except for the misconducts that were given in an actual Florida-Ottawa game last fall. Request.

masterlist⎥ navigation

Word Count: 978

As per weekly Saturday tradition, Y/N and Fraser watch whatever hockey game is on TV. Both avid hockey fans and players, they both grew up watching Hockey Night in Canada, rooting for their teams with unabashed pride; Fraser for Vancouver and Y/N for Winnipeg. Occasionally, their hockey-watching dates are over FaceTime when Fraser is out of town for games and he often falls asleep, his phone dying overnight.

Tonight, however, isn’t one of those nights. The Blades played a rare Saturday matinee game, ending just before four. This gave the couple time to make dinner before the start of the game. His billet family is away visiting relatives for the weekend, so it’s just the two of them. They settle in for the game with plates of spaghetti and salad. Ottawa is playing Florida tonight.

“This should be interesting.” Y/N comments, “nothing good ever happens when the Tkachuk brothers are on the ice together.”

“Very true. How many fights do you think will happen?” Fraser asks, half-Joking, half-serious.

“Oh, easily three or four.”

The game starts off fairly uneventful. No goals from either team and only a penalty or two. But you can tell the teams are chippy with each other. It's the start of the second when things finally amp up. It starts with a slash to the shins of Jakob Chychrun from Nick Cousins, sparking Brady Tkachuk to get involved. The refs are able to break it up before anything exciting happens. There is a pair of goals in the last 10 minutes of the first, so the teams are tied heading into intermission. The second follow is much of the same pattern; a goal for each team, a few minor penalties, and one scuffle. They had barely taken their gloves off before the refs broke it up, boring.

“ Boo.” Fraser says to the TV, “Let them fight, it’s more exciting that way.”

Y/N laughs and rolls her eyes. But he's not wrong, “You just like to see Matthew stir shit up.”

“You've got me there.”

It's in the dying minutes of the third one Fraser gets his wish. A cheap shot from Carter Verhaeghe sends Parker Kelly into the boards awkwardly. He doesn't get up as both teams end up in the corner. Claude Giroux tries to pull Parker away from the fight. The rest of the guys grab each other and start fighting, well most of them anyway. Brady and Matthew are both in the mix. Helmets are off, gloves and sticks are scattered on the ice and the refs are circling. Parker got some help getting to the bench and is getting checked by a trainer. The fight goes on, eventually guys are in headlocks, jerseys are half off, and others are piled on the ice, still swinging punches. The refs break up the fight, sending the guys towards penalty boxes before dishing out the penalties.

“Every player on the ice gets a 10-minute misconduct, except for the goalies and Ottawa number 27.”

Both Fraser and Y/N are staring, absolutely dumbfounded. Almost never do 10 players get game misconducts.

“Well, there's the entertainment for the night.” Y/N quips.

The last few minutes pass quietly, the benches are looking very bare, five guys gone from one side and four from the other. Fraser has nodded off by the time the game ends, and Y/N isn't far behind. She turns off the TV and folds the blanket that she used. She sighs tiredly, looking around the dim room. Fraser’s half-asleep on the couch, all sleep-warm and face cast with shadows from the kitchen lights. Y/N moves about the room, gathering her bag and phone. She smiles softly, love in her eyes as she looks as Fraser. She wakes him gently, prompting him to go to bed.

“Just stay.” Fraser mumbles sleepily, yawning.

“I…I don’t know.” Y/N hesitates, wanting to say yes.

“Please.” He interrupts, giving Y/N a soft, pleading look.

Y/N stays quiet for a minute, reaching out to brush a piece of hair off of his forehead, “Ok. I’ll stay.”

“That’s my girl.”

Y/N flushes, turning shy all of a sudden. She looks away, avoiding his gaze. They haven’t slept over at each other’s places yet, and it makes Y/N’s cheeks warm.

“Why’d you get shy?” He asks as they walk to his room.

“What? No I didn’t”

“Yes, you did. Look, you’re blushing.” He grins at her, poking her cheek.

“No I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. And it’s cute.”

Y/N gives him an exasperated look, she will never admit it but Fraser is right. It’s their first night sleeping over together so it takes an extra few minutes to get everything sorted. She is a little jittery, nervous to share Fraser’s bed with him. Her brain goes into overdrive as she tries to avoid making things weird. Fraser gives her a shirt to sleep in and he pulls on a pair of sweatpants. They stand on opposite sides of the bed, unsure of how to proceed. Sure, they have cuddled before, but usually that was on the couch or her cramped twin bed at school. Fraser climbs in, throwing back the covers and he holds his hand out for Y/N to grab. She takes it climbing into the other side. He pulled the covers over them, rearranging his pillow for optimal comfort. Y/N does the same, relaxing more as the minutes go by. Fraser reaches over and shuts off the lamp, sending the room into darkness. By the light of the moon, they face each other. Fraser pulls Y/N closer, giving her a sweet kiss on her forehead before tucking her into his chest. Before long, the couple has drifted off, wrapped up in each other’s arms like it's the most natural thing in the world.

#‣ ✦ ‣ sunset works ＞ fics #‣ ✦ ‣ inbox ✉️#‣ ✦ ‣ requested #〈 fraser minten 〉#toronto maple leafs #fraser minten #fraser minten x reader #hockey imagine #nhl x reader #fraser minten imagine #nhl fluff

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harryslittlefreakk · 1 year ago

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girl crush

Summary: harry x bisexual bandmate y/n, based on girl crush!

Warnings: angst, smut, all the good stuff!!!

A/n: i literally cannot get this song out of my head so i had to write something!! I’ve been in such a bad rut so it’s absolutely NOT the best but i needed to post something 🥹

you can find my masterlist here and join my taglist here! enjoy and happy reading 🫶🏼

“Need the bathroom,” you slurred, slipping out of the booth to stumble in the general direction of the toilets. You’d made the mistake of breaking the seal too early, as you always did, so now you were slipping away to pee every 15 minutes. Only as soon as you stood up this time, you suddenly didn’t need to go anymore. There was a beautiful bad decision sitting alone at the bar, and your feet moved towards her before your brain had decided to. “A pornstar martini please,” you told the bartender, watching the stranger out the corner of your eye. She was insanely pretty, with dark bangs covering her eyes and red lips parted around the tiny cocktail straw she was nibbling on. She had tattoos littered all over her body - what you could see of it anyway - and a skimpy dress covering the places you wanted to see most.

You turned to face her as the bartender slid your drink in front of you, your drunken brain deciding that simply staring at her was the best way to make a move. She looked over to you, eyes dark under the dimmed lighting. “Haven’t seen you here before,” she told you, swilling the last of her drink around the glass. “I’m only here for a couple of nights.”

“And instead of seeing the city you’re here gawking at me?” she asked, rolling her lips into her mouth. “Sorry,” you giggled. “You’re beautiful.” She chuckled softly, a smirk playing on her lips.

You asked what she was drinking before turning back to the bartender and ordering another round for the two of you, your cocktail slipping down far too easily in the hopes of liquid courage. You weren’t used to making the first move, and if your ridiculous idea of staring at her was anything to go by, you’d have to work fairly hard to get anywhere tonight. Truthfully, you found girls far more intimidating than men. A tiny flick of your hair could get a man’s attention, a little swish of your hips enough to ensure you weren’t going home alone. But girls were far harder to impress, hence why you rarely managed to make it out of the bedroom with them. “I’m Daisy,” she said, eyelashes fluttering. “Y/n,” you told her, still staring through half-lidded eyes. Whether you were dazed from the alcohol or from her presence, the next thirty minutes or so passed in a blur. Suddenly you found yourself panting against her mouth, unable to pull away for even a second as she tugged you towards the bathroom. You only crashed back into reality when you heard a deep growl of your name.

“Here’s the boss man! Harry!” you called out, grinning at him as he stormed towards you. “Can we have a minute?” he asked, stepping in front of the door to keep you both from entering. Daisy sighed and walked away, not even giving you a second glance before leaving. “Get in, now.” Harry stepped back to let you into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind you. “What are you doing?” you slurred, leaning against the sink for balance. “What the fuck are you doing? Sneaking into bathrooms with girls when we’re out as a team?” Harry’s anger spiked as he growled through gritted teeth, jaw tight. “It’s not like no one’s done it before,” you shrugged, his fury quickly sobering you up.

“No one fucking does it when we have a performance the next day.” He was seething, a red hot ball of anger tight within his core, fists clenching and unclenching by his side to try and keep himself grounded. You’d never seen him like this, scolding you as if you’d done wrong by him. “Why is it such a problem?” you half-shouted, suddenly matching him in his anger. It was meant to be a nice night out, it was a nice night out before his sulking ruined everything. “It’s unprofessional, for fuck’s sake y/n.” He slammed a fist into the door as he spoke.

You could feel hot tears forming, turning away from him as he stared at you. “Just let me go, Harry,” you told him. “She’s probably moved on to someone else by now,” he smirked, holding open the door for you to leave. He stormed past the booth you’d all been sat around, heading straight outside to call a cab and go home. You were standing by the road, hands shaking as you tried to book a ride, eyes blurred with tears. Your always been an emotional drunk, everybody knew this, but these were real, vulnerable tears. “Just come with me,” he sighed, sauntering over to you. “Leave me alone,” you slurred, moving away from him as you finally managed to book a car. “Then I’m getting in with you,” he insisted, momentarily calmer in the presence of your hurt. “No, Harry. I don’t want you to.”

“Fine.”

Harry stewed the entire way home, shaking with the remains of his fury. He didn’t even know why he was so angry. Alcohol never did this to him, and he hadn’t cared at all when any of his band had met people in the bar before. It was unprofessional, he wasn’t wrong about that - but it never hurt him like this had. He was angry at himself more than anything, for shouting at you and for making you cry. And yet, even through his anger, all he could think about was the kiss you’d shared earlier in the night. You’d been staring at him from across the table, not at all focused on what he was saying yet focused on him. Your head was tilted to one side, nibbling on your fingernail as you stared. “Are you a good kisser?” you asked him, cutting his sentence short. He was flustered, laughing in place of a response. “No seriously, do you know how many girls probably think about kissing you? As if you’re some kind of sex god? And this whole time you might have been rubbish?”

“I’ve never had any complaints,” he shrugged, blowing a little kiss to you. “I’ll buy the rest of the night if you try it out,” Mitch offered as you grimaced at Harry.

“The rest of the night plus lunch tomorrow?” you added, fluttering your eyelashes at Mitch. He nodded, eyebrows raised slightly as he glanced between you and Harry. You patted the soft leather seat beside you, tilting your head to gesture for Harry to come over. He had his lips on yours in seconds, hand tangled in your hair, desperate to impress you. Harry knew he was a good kisser, and great in bed, and was somewhat irritated by the idea of you questioning that. You moaned against his mouth as he nibbled at your lower lip, momentarily forgetting where you both were. It was only when Sarah coughed that you pulled back, eyes wide and panties damp. “Fine, fine,” you giggled, holding your hands up in surrender. “You are a good kisser.”

Harry had thought you were beautiful from the day he met you, introduced by Mitch and Sarah. He needed a new pianist, and you needed a new job. So when Mitch had offered to have you to swing by the studios to see how you fit in, he jumped at the chance. You’d clicked with the band instantly, becoming part of Harry’s inner circle by your third time playing with them. You were radiant, always so light and relaxed, the breath of fresh air his debut album needed so desperately. You added layers of depth to the music that had been missing, and your talent resonated with Harry.

He was fucked, in every sense of the word. Well and truly fucked. The closer he’d gotten to you, the harder it was to deny how much he wanted you. He knew how messy it was when feelings got complicated within bands, and vowed that he’d never fall for a member of his team. Yet here he was, totally wrapped up in you. He hoped it was the drinks and the result of a weird night, that he’d wake up and laugh at the idea of ever being into you. Especially since he was sure you might not talk to him for a while.

—

He’d called you all in for an extra rehearsal, wanting to add 2 covers to the set list for your performance. Harry loved to take the opportunity to cover his favourite songs, always needing to sing through his feelings and use this time for some therapy. He walked around the room, slipping sheet music in front of everyone like a teacher handing out assignments. When he reached you, he leaned closer to whisper an apology.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t have to be, s’fine.”

“I was out of line.”

“Yep.”

“But we’re okay?”

“Yeah.”

It wasn’t the first time Harry had thrown a tantrum and it definitely wouldn’t be the last, but right now you were still feeling a little too hurt to give in to his puppy dog eyes. He was a perfectionist, and some of that translated into wanting his band to be perfect as a whole, while some of it translated into wanting each and every one of you to be perfect individuals. You’d told him before even joining the band that you weren’t easily governed, that you’d put aside a lot for your colleagues and career but you would never sacrifice yourself along the way. He knew this well, yet still scolded you for a tipsy kiss.

Girl crush and the chain. There was a connection there, but through the haze of a sore head and hurt, you couldn’t quite piece it together. They were two of Harry’s ‘sad’ songs for sure, but what he had to be sad about was totally unclear to you.

You could feel Sarah eyeing you as you started to play, only allowing your gaze to flit between the keyboard and the sheet music, purposely ignorant to all else around you. It wasn’t as if yours and Harry’s disappearance the night before went unnoticed, and coupled with the fact that you could barely look at each other, the air was heavy with tension.

As much as you wanted to confide in Sarah, you needed to get back on your game before the evening’s performance, a televised set hardly the place to show your current disdain for your boss. You were the last to join the band and could easily be the first one out. You knew how ruthless the music industry could be, so it wouldn’t be a total surprise to suddenly find yourself labelled a trouble maker and thrown out in your arse. And while Harry didn’t seem to be that kind of boss, before last night you wouldn’t have thought he’d be the kind of person to explode like he did.

—

Once you were dressed and ready, you felt infinitely more powerful and able. A good outfit could change your entire day, and today you needed all the confidence you could find. A tiny leather a-line skirt wrapped around your hips, a black satin cowl neck loose around your chest. You were the last to admit you looked good, but fuck did you look good tonight. After a long mental pep talk, you took a deep breath and began to lose yourself in the music, the notes carrying you away from the tension weighing on your mind. It was full of soul and emotion, and just listening to Harry sing made your heart light. As the first song drew to a close, you caught his eye and felt a jolt of electricity running through you. His stare was different, something heavy in his eyes as he looked you up and down.

—

“Just give me a second, I’ll catch up with you,” you called out, watching the rest of the band trail out of the door. The green room had felt far too small with everyone here, the walls closing in as you thought about the performance. Something had clicked in your brain as Harry’s eyes focused on you. Now with everybody gone, it felt far too big, far too empty. You couldn’t face him tonight, couldn’t think straight for long enough to enjoy a celebratory meal with your friends. You were burning up, warmth spreading through every inch of your body. It was as if you could feel Harry's eyes still lingering on you, jealousy darkening the whites of his eyes.

—

It wasn’t long after you got back to the hotel that you were startled by a knock at the door. You opened it to find Harry standing there, head hanging low. “You were jealous,” you burst out, looking at him. He looked sheepish, cheeks tinged pink from either the cold, the shame, or both. You stepped back to let him into the room, perching against the edge of the dresser as he sat on the corner of the bed, running a hand through his curls. He was silent, though you could practically hear the cogs turning in his mind, desperate for something to say to you. He knew it would be somewhat easier to come clean about his feelings for you, but the risks to your friendship and working relationship lingered over heavy over his head. It also wouldn’t change the fact that he was a dick to you. But lying to your face, trying to deny the very reason he’d even come here was sure to ruin any chance you had of continuing your friendship.

“I was jealous,” he sighed, finally pulling his head up to meet your eye. All you could do was blink at him, lost for words. There was so much more at stake here for you, and if he knew that, if he cared about that, he would never have sought you out tonight. Either you rejected him, jeopardising your chance of success in his band, closing the lid on your friendship, or you explored the buzzing in your core, jeopardising your chance of success in his band, closing the lid on your friendship. “I need air,” you murmured, grabbing a cigarette from your purse before flinging open the balcony door. Harry watched as you held the cigarette to your mouth, taking a deep puff before blowing the smoke out into the night. Over and over and over again, like a ritual. His heart ached as he watched you, feeling the weight of his confession heavy on his shoulders.

“Just hear me out,” he pleaded, walking over to join you, forearms rested against the metal railings. “I know I was an arse t’you, it was wrong to react like that. That will be the new thing I cringe about before falling asleep.” He laughed bitterly, his smile not quite reaching his eyes as he looked over at you. You hesitated for a moment, but then you turned to face him, meeting his gaze. You held out the cigarette to him wordlessly, and he plucked it from your grip, taking a long drag before exhaling slowly. “Y’shouldn’t smoke out here,” he told you, handing it back to you. “You shouldn’t either then,” you giggled. Standing close to him in the cool air, you couldn’t help but imagine a future with Harry. He was handsome, and he was caring, but he was also complicated. You knew that getting involved with him would be messy, but you couldn't deny the pull he had on you. Something had shifted between you when you kissed, no matter how playful it was, and while you didn’t notice it at the time, you could feel it now.

You could feel the tension crackling in the air, the unspoken words hanging between you. Harry’s gaze softened as he searched your eyes for something, anything, to hold onto. And before either of you could talk yourselves out of it, his lips were on yours. The warmth of his touch sent shivers down your spine, and you found yourself melting into his mouth, heart racing. His hand slipped around your waist, pulling you closer into him as the world faded away, leaving only the sensation of his lips against yours.

Your hand went limp at your side, cigarette burning itself out as a fire ignited in your core. The kiss felt like a promise of something more, something deeper, and you struggled to catch your breath as you pulled away. “We can’t, Harry,” you whispered, pressing a hand to his chest, your gaze fixed on his mouth. His eyes were filled with longing, voice barely audible as he pleaded, "but I want you.”

“I need to shower,” you told him, dropping the cigarette into your makeshift ashtray. A familiar smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he watched you slip out of his grasp, tension still heavy in the air. You grabbed a pair of panties and an oversized t shirt from the dresser, leaving the bathroom door ajar as you turned on the shower. It was insane, you were possibly insane, but you hoped against hope that he’d read the signs right, read you right and follow you. You undressed quickly and stepped into the cubicle, letting the water wash over you as you listened out for his footsteps. And when they didn’t come, when he didn’t appear at the door, you let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand across your face. It was best he didn’t come, best you didn’t cross that line, but you suddenly so desperately wanted to. The hot water did little to ease the ache in your core, the ghost of his touch still lingering on your skin.

And then you felt it, so real and so warm as he snaked a hand around your waist, hot breath tickling the back of your neck. His lips grazed your ear as he whispered, "y’can't resist me, can you?” Harry pressed soft kisses into every inch of skin his mouth could reach, pausing to suckle at the curve of your neck. You whimpered as you turned to face him, heart racing, and pressed your lips against his in a fierce, needy kiss. Passion surged between you, igniting something that had lay dormant within you for far too long.

“Harry,” you moaned against his mouth, hands wrapping around his thick shoulders. He pulled away for a second, eyes trailing down your body. His hands smoothed up your sides as he stared, watching his palms dip into the curve of your waist, groping at your breast as he moved further up your body. His mouth found the sensitive skin around your areola, suckling until a little purple bruise formed. He nipped at the mark, smirking against you as you arched into his touch.

Your hand found his length as he kissed all over you, fingers wrapping around his tip. “Not yet, kitten,” Harry groaned, grabbing your hand and holding it tight behind your back. His free hand danced along your body, touch light as he trailed past your abdomen, down over your mound, before making contact with your clit. His thumb rubbed soft circles over your button, the gentle touch sending chills through your body. His grip on your wrist was hard, the tips of his fingers digging into your skin. The slight pain only made your core ache more, needing more of Harry. As if he could read your mind, he pushed two fingers into your opening, thumb still rubbing determined circles.

But it wasn’t enough, even as his fingers curled at your sweet spot, you needed more. Even with the burning spreading through your centre, you needed more. Your hips bucked into him, pushing his touch further into your entrance. Your fingers were aching to touch him, desperate for the feel of his thick shaft against your palm. You’d heard stories, heard all the jokes, yet you didn’t think he’d really be *that* big. You needed him in a way that would change everything, a way that would open new doors you could never close. The risk was more exciting to you now than scary, your desperation for his cock completely washing away any of your previous fears.

Just thinking about it had your legs shaking, core tight as your head dropped to his shoulder, orgasm washing over you. You moaned against his skin as you came, messy and heavy onto his palm.

Harry let go of your hand and kneaded the flesh of your ass as he rode you through your high, hard cock bumping your core as he pulled his fingers out of you, tongue licking your juices from his skin. He reached behind you to turn off the water, watching you step out of the shower on shaky legs before turning you around in front of the mirror. “Want you to watch,” he murmured in your ear as he stroked at his cock. You steadied yourself on the sink as he pushed your back down, eyes fixed on his reflection as he lined his head up with your entrance.

He thrust into you hard, his thick shaft stretching your walls as you cried out. You could feel him in your stomach, feel every twitch of his cock deep in your core. His hands were tight around your waist, sliding himself in and out of you as your ass slapped against his hips. Your knuckles were white as you gripped onto the sides of the sink, head lulling as he worked at your sweet spot. He stilled for a second, one hand moving to land a firm smack onto your ass, before wrapping it around your throat and pulling your back flush to his front. “Look at me,” he growled in your ear, hand tightening until you stared back into the mirror with darkened eyes. “Good girl,” Harry mewled, loosening his grip when your gaze met his. Your hand pressed over his, wordlessly begging him to keep the pressure around your throat. He smirked against your ear, splaying his free hand across your stomach as he thrust into you again, groaning as he felt your skin bulging where he pushed into you. He never lasted long after the rush of a performance, the nerves and excitement always transforming into a rock hard cock, a need to fuck his fist to come down from from the high. Watching your tits bounce as he rocked into you, he was close. His thrusts became sloppier as he throbbed inside of you, the sounds of skin on skin all he could focus on. His hand pulled you closer into him, bodies flush as he painted your walls with his come, hard and warm as he cried out your name.

—

You pulled him towards the bed, already needy for round two. Your naked bodies were pressed together as you stumbled blindly over discarded clothes and shoes, hands exploring every part of each other’s bodies. And then someone knocked on the door, pulling you out of the paradise you’d found in Harry. “Ignore it, they’ll go away,” he whispered, pulling your head back to face him. But as his lips found yours once again, the knocks came harder against the wood. Harry groaned as he pulled away from you, quickly yanking his boxers on as you hid out of view. He cracked open the door, mouth dropping open as he was met with Sarah. “Oh,” she said as she looked between him and the door number. “I thought this was y/n’s room, have you seen her?” He shook his head, uttering a quick apology before slamming the door shut before she heard you giggling behind him.

“That was close,” he murmured, a deep blush creeping up his cheeks as he joined you on the bed. It would already be complicated enough when you woke up in his arms, you’d already have enough to answer for when the band questioned your two early disappearances. But right now your bubble was protected, your joy still hovering over you in the form of Harry’s smile, and that was all you needed for now.

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