#seriously; thank you for asking after me; I really do appreciate it and I will be back here soon
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Ask Masterpost #5 -- 2/8/2025
Summary:
Permissibility of Friday Night Funkin' Mods (Allowed) with update about Rhythm Heaven songs
Permissibility of Lego Batman/Lego series games (Allowed if original compositions or remixes)
Permissibility of fansongs that eventually end up inside the game (Highly situational; Leaning towards not allowed)
Permissibility of licensed music from external/unaffiliated sources (Not allowed)
April Fools plans
Note about attribution corrections
Permissibility of scrapped songs (Not allowed)
Permissibility of songs officially posted by developers before game release (Allowed)
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no rush on answering this bc i know requests wont be open for a hot minute, but i have a question if u dont mind!
are songs from friday night funkin mods allowed? and if so, would it be the same as rhythm heaven songs, where you said just an instrumental should be submitted since the "vocals" are pretty distinct? thank u!! :]
Yes, they're allowed as long as you can credit the original creators and the mod is/was publicly playable in some capacity, not just existing as a youtube video. It's okay to have the vocals as well if you'd like! I think I misunderstood the rhythm heaven case (I thought it would be the menu music that plays after you complete the song/level, not the sfx that plays DURING the song) and will clarify that accordingly.
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What's the verdict on songs from games like Lego Batman? Where the music is at least partially based on (if not entirely the same as) music from films or television?
Totally fine if they're created or remixed for the video game, but I'm going to say no if they weren't originally made for the video game.
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@cloudyskies4 asked: if a song is fanmade but ended up getting used officially in a kinda fanmade modernization how would the source for that be handled?
I think this is HIGHLY situational and I would probably need to know the exact song this is referring to. Overall, I'm inclined to say no, because it wasn't an original composition for the game (by the team behind the game, that is).
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is music that was licensed for use in video games allowed? like if some rock song from the 80s was used in a game that came out in 2010. pretty sure it's a no on that front, but i wanted to double check. thank you!
No, because it wasn't composed for the game itself. Appreciate you double checking though! (I'm assuming this is referring to songs that are unchanged when included in the video game and not 'xyz franchise song remixed for xyz franchise video game' sort of thing)
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hi! i absolutely love this blog. and i appreciate the organizational work you're putting in! so thanks for not only running this blog but also introducing so many people to some damn good music.
since these are never official tracks, one event i think you could do for like, april fool's day or something is maybe using silvagunner rips under the same format. i think it'd be pretty fun!
I probably won't do anything for april fools simply because I don't really care for it :'). Thank you for enjoying the blog so much!!!
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[Any ask that's correcting me on an incorrect credit for a song]
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THESE. SERIOUSLY. If you put them in the notes it might be a hit or miss if I see them but if you send me an ask I WILL SEE IT and I WILL CORRECT IT IMMEDIATELY. Proper attribution is important to me and I appreciate everyone who helps me stick to that! This isn't an ask, but I wanted to address it anyways.
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might be a silly question but are scrapped video game songs allowed? i know submissions are closed, im just asking so that i dont send something thats not allowed when submissions open :]
I'm going to say no, just because they were scrapped and therefore not intended for the final product :'). No such thing as a silly question!
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If the game hasn't been released yet, but a song from the game *has* been officially posted by the devs beforehand, is that okay to submit? I figured it's a yes but I just wanted to be extra sure for when Jan 1st submissions roll around :)
If the song has been officially posted by the devs (and is the full song, not the BGM for a trailer) and you can credit the composer than absolutely!! (assuming the song is going to be in the game, of course). And I'm sorry there were no submissions on Jan 1st... I'm still trying to clear through the ones we have already :')
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alexandriteobscuraarchive · 2 years ago
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I think I might've missed the posts about the situation but why did you split your blog up and (most importantly) are you doing okay? I know that was something that was a big source of stress for you. Also can people follow your new blog?
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((First and foremost: thank you for asking if I'm okay or not. I know that's a rather easy thing to just assume one way or another online and I appreciate the care and effort. Also I'm sorry if you missed anything important, I tried to reblog the related posts a handful of times but you can't always reach everyone, you know? It wasn't intentional I assure you. To answer if I'm okay or not I'm....getting there, is the best way to put it I suppose? I'll try to keep this brief.
I'm taking a slight break (not a hiatus and while I do occasionally slap a post on the dash I'm not really speaking or engaging ic) from this blog because; and I'm trying to keep this is a simple as I can, I'm dealing with a lot of feelings of anger and resentment towards this blog (which I know is unfair to the people--which is pretty much everyone here---who haven't done anything wrong but I'll spare detailing you the intricacies of my deeply rooted anxieties and etc) which is harder for me to reconcile/progress with in a positive way compared to feeling stressed and lonely over on the new blog at the moment and so I'm choosing to focus my efforts over there because I feel like I can progress in a positive/healthy way, enjoy what I'm doing in a safe space, and so on. I am incredibly stressed---what I did and am still working on diligently to the best of my ability every day---is stressful to the point of being overwhelming if I think about it too hard, look at everything on the whole, etc, but it's necessary. It's necessary to enforce boundaries and not neglect myself a space where I can write what I want and what I love so dearly and that makes it worth it.
I split my blog up due to a lot of unwarranted harassment (anonymous for the most part but some people weren't, all of them have been blocked) that has been going on for months a thing that only increased in severity in spite of my earnest attempts to understand or work through what was going on, reconcile any expressed 'issues', repeat and thorough attempts to explain my side of things including offering to help people around the content that they professed to hate so strongly (said hate which bled over to me as a person and writer/roleplayer in general) and so on. It became untenable incredibly quickly---and if you followed me to alexandrite (which had a different name/center muse originally but I digress) from my former rp blog you'd know how severe the harassment there was and how I promised myself I'd handle such things in the future--- and this is me doing that. This experience on the whole was incredibly similar to the one that happened on my og blog and I promised myself that I wouldn't go through that again if i could help it.
I deserve to be treated better; both by myself and by everyone else, and this is me doing that (meaning treating myself better at the very least rather than staying in a hateful/hurtful environment) even if most days it makes me want to scream. Did I want to split everything up? To be completely honest no I did not. But I think in the end this is the best solution for everyone involved---but most of all this is the best solution for me---and once the stress ebbs a bit (and by a bit I mean a lot, a fucking lot, because I'm kinda drowning rn lol) I'm hoping to feel more secure. I'm....getting there, like I said. One thing at a time, always one thing at a time. I'm already doing good things over there and soon I'll be doing good things over here again too. Both blogs can (and will) coexist and we can all have fun together no matter where you follow me or who you want to interact with....eventually. I wish that people would realize how they treat others---that driving someone out of their own space when they've done nothing wrong, when the only thing they've done (or tried to do) is share something that they love with their friends/writing partners---isn't okay. I wish people would realize that how I was treated was not fucking okay (and most won't unfortunately) but I realized it and that, at least, is important. I said 'this isn't okay' and did what I needed to do not only to better myself (which is something that is incredibly hard for me to do; honestly it would've been impossible for me to do even a year ago) but to keep doing what I love. I'm trying to focus on that. I'm trying to let that drive me forward over everything else.
And to end on a further positive note: Yes, you can follow my new blog if you want to, all that I ask is that you make sure that your interest in the blog and the muses featured there is genuine and that you actually want to interact with them before following. If you liked them (any of them) and wanted to interact but never had the chance for whatever reason, or if we started something but never finalized anything yet, so and so forth, you're welcome to come on over because I'd love to have you. And if you don't (because as I've said a hundred times to idk how many deaf/closed ears) have any interest that's okay too. They're not for everyone and it's a lot to learn/take in even with my offering to help people in a variety of ways (an offer that is always open!), I get that and hold no resentment in that regard whatsoever, all that I ask is that you understand that I'm taking care of myself by doing this...all of this...and that I appreciate you too. The people who remain here waiting for me to come back and post for the muses here are just as appreciated as the people who follow me on my new blog. I love all of you very much no matter what and I look forward to writing with you all again, it's just that some of you will see more of me than the others will, at least for a little while.
If you want to follow my tcol blog you can go here @constellationcrowned (you'll see my self promo for the blog over here periodically as well, it's obvious af lol) or if you have any questions please feel free to contact me privately either over there or on discord. And thank you again for your kind words anon, truly, I hope you have a nice day/night and I look forward to potentially writing with you soon no matter where that might be.))
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yanderenightmare · 8 months ago
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Gojo Satoru
TW: implied noncon, yandere
fem reader
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The way Gojo Senpai is so obnoxious, he doesn’t understand his flirting is making you uncomfortable…
He seriously thinks he’s making you fall head over heels in love with him even when you give him nothing in return to make him think that. He just thinks you’re embarrassed and nervous, flustered by his attention, and that’s the reason you divert your gaze and bite your lip when he has you against the lockers, leaning on his hand with his shades gliding low on his nose—telling you that you have no shot becoming a sorcerer, but that you look too cute in the uniform not to give it your best try. 
“Don’t worry, just say my name, and I’ll come save you,” he’ll say. “You can be my personal assistant supervisor instead.” 
His game isn’t anything to brag about. It's more in line with bullying than flirting, but you pick up on the suggestiveness. That heated saccharine look within his blue eyes can only mean one thing if the way he plays with your hair isn’t enough of a hint already.
But his words are nothing short of derogatory, and all in all, he simply makes you feel gross—a sentiment you thought you put across, but it seems that having six eyes only makes you blind.
It takes Shoko telling him to leave the poor Kohai alone for him to finally understand that you don’t like him. And then he’s just confused and embarrassed.
And a tinge bit irritated.
Gojo knows for a fact he could make any girl want him. Even those who seem to hate him would melt if he gave them the same attention he’s been giving you. Any girl. He could have any girl, but he chose you. And you reject him?
No. He can’t accept that.
“Most girls would be grateful for my attention,” He states plainly after having tracked you down.
Your head snapped, jolting. “Gojo Senpai—” You dropped the mop in your hands with a clatter, having been deep in your own thoughts on classroom cleaning duty. You sighed as the scare settled, giving a breathy laugh, “You scared me—”
“Is that it?” he interrupted. “I scare you?”
You quirked a brow with a tilt of your head. “What?”
“Do I scare you?” he repeated, louder, posted on the threshold in a stance you’d never seen him in—stiff and squared, not his usual lazy laidbackness.
Confused, your eyes looked around as if searching for clues but came up emptyhanded, “Uhm, I don’t understand—”
“It’s a simple question,” he said, cutting you off again, this time with a step into the classroom. He talked slowly, cradling the next words, “Are you scared of me?”
Where it all came from, you hadn’t a clue. But then again, Gojo Senpai has always been rather strange. 
Were you scared of him? It’s not really something you’ve ever thought about. Sure, if you were to go one versus one with him, you’d probably piss yourself. But in a regular setting, you just found him to be as grating as the next person.
“I don’t think so?” you end up answering.
“Good. So what is it then?” His shades were low enough for his stare to skim over. Brighter than clear skies, and yet, somehow, so dark. “Why don’t you like me.”
Oh, so he’s figured it out on his own then. It’s about time. And thank fuck for it—saves you the trouble of breaking it to him yourself. Though you were still left with the unfair task of telling him why.
“Honestly, Gojo Senpai, I’m not, or well… you’re just not my type.”
Stick to the basics, is what you told yourself. There’s no need to drag this out.
“Yeah, I figured. I’m asking why,” he countered, in complete disagreement with your thought.
Still, you wanted to fight for it. “Does it really matter?”
“Yes.”
This conversation was the last thing you wanted, but it seemed the white-haired prodigy wouldn’t leave without having it.
“Well…” you started, still pondering. Maybe he’d appreciate the honesty? He’s a rather straightforward guy himself. “I mean, there’s no way you don’t already know this, but—” You picked up the broom again mid-sentence. “You’re really obnoxious.”
He took a small second before he scoffed, “So? No one else cares.”
It reminded you of arguing with someone half your age—the petty anger in an ill-thought-through comment slung at you as if it carried all the weight in the world. But what everyone else thought of him hadn’t anything to do with you—and even so, out of the people on campus, you’re certain you’re not the only one who finds his attitude unpleasant—they just don’t tell it to his face. 
You had half the mind to tell him to go get a grip, but he was still your Senpai.
“Good for you, I guess?” You weren’t really looking to fight with him, after all. “So you can flirt with literally anyone else then,” you dismiss him and go back to finish cleaning the classroom—glad to have put it all behind you. You were starting to fear he’d never leave you alone.
There’s a woosh, then the hard thunk of your back hitting the wall. Both your upper arms are gripped tight, pinned. When you open your eyes again after adjusting to the impact, you look straight up into the full view of two crisp comet blues.
“You’re mighty rude for a Kohai. You know that?”
Your head stings. You blink crookedly.
“Senpai—”
“Maybe I’ve misjudged you. D’you have anythin’ for show to back that attitude up?” It’s eerie how he says it in the same flirty fashion he would otherwise—even the look in his eyes are the same. But his grip tightens.
“I don’t want to fight—”
“No?” he cuts you off with a pout. “I could've sworn you were asking for it—all but begging for it a second ago.”
You whimper, cowering at the sudden bite in his voice.
“What’s the matter, huh? I thought you said you weren’t scared?”
Your voice comes out weak, “Please, Gojo Senpai, I—”
“Please?” he questions brightly, eyes stark and burning like a stovetop. “Yeah, that’s got a nicer ring to it—suits you better.” The smile that splits across his face is nothing short of unhinged. “But it’s not enough for me to let your disrespect slide.” He licks his lips, and a chill runs up your spine, feeling like caught prey. “Lucky you, I know exactly what price to put on it.”
His mouth devour yours the same way—pouncing like a beast would, with teeth more than lips, then a tongue. You whine as you twist—it’s more instinctive than deliberate when your knee shoots up into the unprotected space between his legs—right into that thing that was rubbing and rutting against you.
You make a run for it as he staggers back with a hiss, but you don’t make it farther than three measly steps before you’re bent over the closest desk.
His fist wrangles your hair, using it to shove you face-down against the wood—the weight of his body on top of your back with his voice raspy against your ear. “We could’ve left this with a kiss, but I don’t think it’s gonna be that easy now.”
Tears spill hotly in a panic, but no matter how much strength you put into lifting yourself up, you remain down. Sobbing, “Let go—help—”
He snickers with a hand under your skirt, spidering delicately up your thigh. “Who’re you callin’ for help, hm? I’m already here.”
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♡ GOJO SATORU masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist
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luv4fushi · 1 year ago
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thinking about arguing with husband!gojo. it’s funny because he’s the strongest sorcerer alive with several other, more wicked enemies harboring one sided hate for him, yet he’s anxiously glancing at you every now and then as you hiss at him. you’re the only one who can make him doubt his strength.
he usually finds you cute when you’re mad, but right now he doesn’t really appreciate the way your face is scrunched up and how you’re yelling at him.
it’s not his fault. he thinks you’re being so dramatic.
“you’re laughing at me,” you deadpan. “why do you never take things i say seriously?”
“because i honestly don’t think it’s that serious,” he fires back, and your eyes narrow. oh, fuck.
arguing with your husband is never fun. it’s probably because the both of you are stubborn; you’re stubborn because you’re simply right all the time, and satoru’s stubborn because if you’re not right, then he is.
you pause for just a second, but it’s enough to sprout a moment of extreme tension between you and your husband.
“right,” you scoff after you inhale sharply. “you just don’t care, do you?”
“don’t fucking say that,” satoru snaps. “i do care. that’s why i’m here.”
it takes everything in you to not shoot him another death glare. “so i should be thankful for the bare minimum?”
satoru blinks. he would’ve flinched, but he refuses to let you have that sort of power over him. “i’m not giving the bare minimum.”
“yes you are,” you argue back, voice straining as you swallow a lump of anger down the back of your throat.
the both of you are still. it feels like an eternity passes before the anger in you wanes. you’re exhausted and this fight with satoru is surely going to make the both of you upset enough to not talk for the rest of the night.
“i’m sorry that i’m not good enough,” satoru says, breaking the silence. you’ve never heard his voice so small, so pathetic—he’s never, ever shown you this side of him, and you’re starting to feel that dreading pit of guilt tug at your gut.
“that’s not what i meant,” you force yourself to say, sighing.
“but that’s what you’re thinking,” satoru mumbles. he avoids looking at your face.
“no it’s not,” you deny. “it’s never been about that.”
satoru gives you a wary look. “then what is it about? because i’ve done everything i can.”
“everything? really?” you sneer. “do you even love me anymore?”
silence. satoru swears he can hear your heart break.
“baby, don’t say that,” he groans, “c’mon, we were ten points away from three stars. that’s a single plate—one you didn’t turn in because you somehow forgot how to dash!”
you whip around to glower at satoru, your face twisting into an offended expression. “you set the kitchen on fire! how could i do something like serving a dish if the kitchen is on fire?!”
“baby, it’s the same button that it always has been this entire game!” he whines. “and you set the kitchen on fire! you keep forgetting to take the rice off the stove!”
you sigh exasperatedly, crossing your arms to act like some sort of shield between you and satoru’s (truthful) words.
“but you don’t chop up your stupid fish!” you protest. “so i end up doing five things at once!”
satoru opens his mouth to speak, but he knows you’re in the right. he opts to click his tongue instead.
“and every time i asked for help,” you add, frowning, “you just kept bringing out more of the dumbass cucumbers! we don’t have counter space for that!!!”
“that’s for prep to maximize our sushi making! throw it on the floor!”
“are you kidding me? that’s so unsanitary!”
“it’s a game!”
you’re both panting by the end of the fight. you’re biting down on your inner cheek and satoru is scratching the nape of his neck awkwardly.
“… sorry,” he mumbles. “i won’t bring out cucumbers anymore. and i’m also sorry for being mean about you not knowing how to dash.”
“good,” you huff. “‘cause i was seriously not gonna play anymore.”
“and…?” he prods, nudging you in your ribs. you can tell what he wants just by the sound of his voice.
“and i’m sorry for getting mad at you even though you’re doing you’re best at carrying me in this game…” you murmur, rolling your eyes.
satoru’s face brightens and he places a wet kiss on your cheek. “you’re forgiven.”
“love you, dummy.”
“love you too, baby.”
“no more cucumbers unless the ticket calls for them,” you remind him pointedly.
“yes, chef!”
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aealzx · 7 months ago
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(This one is pretty long info dumping. Warning: mention of mild gore)
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Prologue
Previous Next
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With the state of the one named Danny, the safehouse Barbara directed the group to was one that was a little more well stocked than the others. It was only because of Jazz that they were able to reach it, being the one to accept all of them being blindfolded after Jason had suggested they could hold each other’s hands the whole time and let the rest of his team put the blindfolds on. It made walking a little awkward with Jazz firmly hanging onto her unconscious brother’s hand, but it was an annoyance Jason was willing to accept for the comfort it gave them. It was only when they were in a room without windows that they took the blindfolds off, and pulled chairs over for the kids to sit on.
“Don’t touch me,” Sam hissed when Cass took her arm to start cleaning a cut she had, snatching her limb back and glaring.
“If it gets infected and you get sick then you’ll have one more of your team in need of care. That seems detrimental to your state of affairs,” Damian commented after catching sight of Cass’ sad expression.
“Robin,” Tim hissed, not wanting to stress this group of teenagers out more than they already were.
“He’s not wrong,” Jason interjected, keeping a hold of Danny not only because there was only one table open that he’d directed Stephanie to set Danielle on, but also because he knew the others would behave better with their seriously injured friend in obvious custody. “You guys should take care of yourselves too, otherwise no one will be left to look out for him.”
It was effective. Sam flinched before lowering her head and hunching her shoulders like a scolded puppy, then offered her arm back to Cass.
“Dude,” Tucker protested weakly, but didn’t say anything else and aso looked to Tim to accept his own check up. He had to wait for Tim to stop facepalming first though, a heaved sign from him before he decided not to further comment on his two brothers’ unnecessarily blunt comments.
“Are you feeling a little better sweetie? Sorry we roughed you up so much, but you were quite the fighter and it was hard to deal with you,” Stephanie decided to also ignore her brothers, resting Danielle on the table while Dick was clearing the other.
At first Danielle was about to be snarky about whose fault it was that she wasn’t feeling okay, but Stephanie’s expert inclusion about her fighting ability effectively changed her thought process. “Heheeh. And don’t you forget it,” Danielle chimed with a proud giggle. “I’m feeling much better now. Thanks for carrying me all the way.”
“No problem! Thanks for listening to your sister and not fighting us again,” Stephanie returned. “Jazz said you’re different from the others. Do you need anything? It doesn’t look like you’re injured anymore.”
“I heal fast, so I’m okay. But do you have any food? We haven’t really gotten much lately,” Danielle asked shamelessly. She didn’t need any bandaids or antiseptic like the others, but fights had still taken a lot of energy on top of being short supply of food for the past few months. If they were willing to finally give her a good meal then she was going to take advantage of it.
“Sure thing,” Stephanie giggled, appreciating the honesty. “I’ll be right back,” she bid, leaving Danielle on the table and heading to another room where they kept food supplies.
Letting Stephanie pass by them, Jason shifted towards the remaining table where Dick was finishing clearing the surface of spare parts and supplies. “Get two blankets, he’s cold as ice,” Jason directed Dick, the concern in his voice being the only hit to his hidden expression.
“...Still breathing?” Dick asked after obediently pulling a thick blanket from a nearby cupboard and spreading it on the table first. They were both keeping their voices on the quieter side, letting Stephanie and Tim take care of keeping the other three occupied. Jazz was the only one staying near them, having not let go of Danny’s hand just yet.
“Yeah, it’s weak though,” Jason confirmed, carefully setting Danny down and helping Dick spread the second blanket over him. “How long has he been like this?”
That question was directed to Jazz, who pursed her lips both in reluctance to answer and to fight back more tears. “Since we got here. He collapsed and hasn’t woken up since,” she admitted, almost a whisper.
“What?” Dick smothered his outburst so the others didn’t notice, but couldn’t keep it quiet completely. “He’s been comatose for months without life support?”
Jazz flinched and shrank back slightly at the outburst, but Jason rested a hand on her shoulder to keep her from fleeing. They needed her to talk if they wanted to be able to help them. “He’s not a regular human, remember?” he reminded Dick, speaking up to try and help Jazz feel a little less interrogated.
Jazz didn’t offer any further information, just pulled her gaze back to look up at Dick, lip wavering despite her trying to keep a defiant expression. She wasn’t looking for pity, but she wasn’t good enough at pretending to be a tough girl that Dick didn’t notice her distress. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to... I know you were doing your best,” he apologized, pulling back a little as well.
“Dr. Thompkins has reached you guys. Penny-one opted to call her after hearing Danny's initial condition,” Barbara’s report came over all of their comms, able to keep tabs on everyone through secure video feeds of the inside and outside of the safehouse. And as each of her team members got DNA samples from their captive rescuees she was also starting an identity analysis for each of them in the background.
“Robin?”
That was all Dick had to say, calling to the youngest who was leaning against the frame of the only door. Damian simply raised his hand in a brief acknowledging wave before he left to let Leslie inside. As he left Stephanie returned a moment after, a plate of warmed up frozen burritos in her hands and a bag of bottled water over her shoulder. The bag caught Jason’s eye, and he moved over momentarily to grab one of the bottles and bring it to Jazz.
“Our medical contact has arrived. We’ll have her look at your brother first. Just make sure you stay hydrated,” he commented, handing her the bottle and letting her open it so she could see it was still sealed and therefore wasn’t contaminated. If that was even a concern that crossed her mind. It was starting to quickly seem like these kids weren’t criminals at all, and many of them were starting to have a hard time treating them as such.
“...Thanks,” Jazz responded, taking a moment to be willing to let go of Danny to open the bottle. It was much needed, and she ended up drinking half of it before lowering it again.
Jason watched her for a moment, noting how tense she was and her reluctance to speak with them. He couldn’t blame her for being secretive, having no idea what had driven them to where they had been. But he couldn’t help notice it was strange they were all still distrusting of the group they were with. Didn’t they know Batman’s group of birds were a trustworthy lot? Were they still hiding something illegal? Or maybe… they simply didn’t recognize them. Where were these kids from? “Before the Doctor gets here, I just want to strongly recommend that you don’t keep anything from her, alright? I know it’s scary to reveal things about your brother to a stranger, but the more she knows the better she can help. Got it?”
Jazz looked up at him at the half request half demand, eyes trying to see him beyond the mask as she considered his words. She hadn’t thought about that yet, being so used to keeping everything about what Danny was a secret from everyone. But what Jason said made sense, and she wasn’t going to risk Danny not getting better just to stay paranoid. Two months was a long time for them to have tried to figure things out for themselves, only to have every attempt fail. But if there was one thing they’d all learned in the past months, it seemed ghosts were practically nonexistent in Gotham. So perhaps there was much less risk than back home. “...Okay,” Jazz agreed, giving a small nod.
“This way Doctor. The young meta is over there,” Damian was quick to return, refraining from entering the room for a moment in favor of allowing Leslie to get by, but still gesturing his open palm towards the group of four to the right side of the room from the entrance.
“Thank you, Robin,” Leslie responded, stepping into the room and heading over to them. She didn’t sound too happy to be there. But considering the circumstances it was hard to be joyful about it. She did end up pausing when she laid eyes on Danny though, momentarily taken aback. “If I didn’t know any better I’d be questioning your ability to tell when someone was still alive,” she commented, looking at Dick and Jason for a moment before setting her medical case on the edge of the table with a small sigh. “Let’s take a look. What kind of injury is under the wrappings, dear?”
Her voice had softened, being able to recognize each of the kids who were there from the rundown Barbara had given her on the way there. As she gathered her tools Jazz watched her, hesitantly nudging herself to respond honestly. “...Burns,” she said quietly, willing herself to move as she saw Leslie pull out some scissors to cut the bandages with. “From here to here,” Jazz added, rising from the stool to gesture the entirety of Danny’s left side of his torso, and onto his shoulder somewhat.
“Thank you, dear,” Leslie hummed, slipping the scissors under the bandages on the opposite side to make sure she didn’t aggravate any of the injuries. It only took a moment to cut through the stolen wrappings, and then she was very gingerly peeling them away.
Jazz still felt nauseous whenever she saw the blaster inflicted burns marring a good portion of her little brother’s body, and was glad she was already sitting. Leslie didn’t seem too phased though, simply humming once the wounds were revealed even as Dick and Jason made tense noises. “Hmm. Those are definitely third degree,” Leslie commented, slowly cutting away the rest of the bandages around Danny’s shoulder. But then she noticed something unusual that caused her to look closer. The tissue that wasn’t destroyed appeared irritated, as if exposed to an allergen or poison. “What caused them?” she asked, looking closely.
“...A shot from a Blood blossom blaster,” Jazz almost whispered, clenching her hand as the memory of her brother screaming when the red tinted blast had caught him in the side made her feel even more sick. She wasn’t sure if that was worse than seeing him stand up afterwards with a gaping hole in his side dripping green blood. At least in his ghost form there hadn’t been much to see in terms of insides. But after having expended all his energy to take out the GIW’s machines he hadn’t had any left to heal, and the injuries had carried over his human half.
“Wait, you said third degree?” Sam suddenly spoke up, the whole room having stopped conversations when Leslie had come in. “You can’t see his ribs anymore?” she continued, standing up and intending to check for herself before Cass stepped in her way.
“Don’t interfere. You’ll get in the way,” Cass directed, holding her hands out to block Sam’s path and ignoring the glare directed at her.
Tucker made a gagging noise at the question, covering his mouth for a moment. “Dude, could you not remind me of that?”
So Sam wasn’t just being dramatic? Dick and his team ended up looking at Jazz when they heard her draw a breath of realization, turning from Sam back to check for herself. “Oh-... Oh thank goodness. You’re right,” she breathed, sagging to her knees and letting out a sob of relief. “We were right. He is still healing.”
It was a strange thing to hear, but for the first time since they’d caught them Sam actually gained a small smile. Danielle also ended up giving a short giggle too, kicking her legs once. “Told you,” she commented.
It was admittedly a very confusing conversation, but Dick had to just remind himself once again that Danny wasn’t completely human. Following Cass’ lead, Dick gently helped pull Jazz back to the stool she’d been on. “Let’s keep out of the Doctor’s way,” he suggested. 
“Can you guys explain a little more though?” Tim spoke up now, trying to piece together everything that had been hinted at. Apparently Danny had actually had fourth degree burns, but they had healed despite him not having proper medical care other than clean dressings, and having been asleep for months. “I’m having a difficult time understanding how he’s not…. in worse condition,” he added, catching himself from being too blunt like his siblings had been before.
“You mean how he’s not dead?” This time it was Danielle that was strangely blunt with a calmness that made the others think she didn’t fully understand what she was saying. “That’s easy. He and I are both halfas. It’s harder to kill someone who’s already half dead.”
Tim’s brow twitched, and Jason didn’t miss the few glances taken at him. He doubted they were the same as him, considering he unfortunately couldn’t phase through solid objects or fly like they had seen Danielle do many times already.
“Halfas?” Stephanie repeated, pulling her gaze from Jason and looking back to Danielle.
“It’s short for half human half ghost,” Sam answered, as though it was an obvious connection to make.
“Yup. See,” Danielle confirmed, pushing off the table midmorph and floating in the air instead of landing on the floor as her now stark white hair wisped gently in a soft wind unfelt by anyone else. It didn’t look like much of a change other than she had different hair and eye colors now. But it definitely felt different. That eerie skin crawling sensation that people usually associated with ghosts that almost never actually existed.
‘...Huh, I guess it’s kind of like Captain Marvel, but with their ghost half as the other side,’ Tim thought after a moment of consideration after watching Danielle. “And being halfas give you guys accelerated healing, but… Danny’s is… hindered?” he asked next, clarifying that they were on the same page.
The nod from Danielle turned into a grimace, and she floated back to sit on the table once more. “Something like that. We have to have enough energy for it to work, and he used up a lot. This place kinda sucks too. There’s no natural portals to the Ghost Zone, and no ecto hot spots that we can gather energy from either.”
“The closest supplement we could find that we thought would work was the Lazarus water. But after getting a hold of some we decided we shouldn’t risk using it,” Jazz added, feeling the despair starting to sink into her shoulders again.
“Yeah, that stuff is freaky bad. I only took a little bit and it was horrible,” Danielle agreed, shuddering and wrapping her arms around her knees.
The others weren’t sure how to answer that fully, most of them being lost in thought about the unfamiliar data they’d been given. Eventually Jason shifted with a short comment. “We’re not too fond of the stuff either,” he huffed, then switched his gaze back to Leslie.  “Have you finished looking him over?”
While they had been discussing half ghosts Leslie had continued her exam and treatment of Danny, having cleansed the obvious injuries, rebandaged them with Dick’s help, and added a simple saline IV, oxygen mask, and heart monitor. When Jason addressed her she was making notes about her results. “Mm. Aside from the burns it looks like he’s been exposed to an allergen or toxin as well,” she began, turning to face them.
“That’s the blood blossoms. They’re poison to ghosts,” Jazz supplied quickly, then looked apologetic for interrupting.
Leslie didn’t seem to mind though, just nodding and continuing her report. “There’s also the expected signs of malnutrition. If the human half still needs regular human nutrients then Vitamin IV therapy would be of benefit. The strange part is it looks like all of his bodily functions are significantly slowed, similar to that of cryogenic stasis. That could explain why he’s still alive after so long.”
“That also explains why he feels like an ice cube,” Jason noted, “Could you tell what’s causing it?”
“It seems to be self generated. I imagine this ‘meta’ potentially has ice related abilities,” Leslie answered. None of the teens said anything, but their tight lipped reactions and expressions of sudden understanding were enough to confirm Leslie’s guess.
“Do you have the details of the Vitamin IV needed? We can get that brought here,” Dick requested, moving closer to Leslie to look over her shoulder at the notes she’d taken. Leslie just shifted the tablet slightly, letting Dick get a good look since it seemed he was trying to formulate the next steps of action.
“Alright, it looks like everyone is stable for now. We’ll keep two people here at a time to keep an eye on everyone, and make sure people get fed and taken care of. Unfortunately none of you are allowed near any of our technology still, so we can see about bringing you some books or something to keep from being bored,” Dick started to plan out, giving a sympathetic shake of his head when Sam and Tucker groaned about not being let near technology. Jazz felt like it was fair enough, she wouldn't trust them either and at least they were going to make sure they had food and water. Plus they seemed to be pretty serious about taking care of Danny. Even after learning about the unique difficulties in his condition they hadn’t abandoned them yet. “The rest of us will work on getting the rest of what Danny needs, that we know of so far. Something to neutralize the blood blossom residue, IV vitamins, and ectoplasm. Does anyone else have any unique needs?”
At that point Sam raised her hand, letting Dick gesture to her before speaking up. “Vegetarian,” she said simply.
“Not a problem. I’ll make sure everyone in charge of food knows.” Dick nodded, noticing how Damian very subtly gained a smile about that. “Do any of you have a picture, or description of the blood blossom plants? It doesn’t sound like anything I’m familiar with.”
“The only ones we’ve seen look like rosebuds, red with black leaves and stems,” Sam spoke again, seeming to be more favorable to them now. The same care for Danny that was winning Jazz over was winning the rest of the team as well.
“Got it,” Dick nodded, gaining a pleased smile when Leslie also passed over a sample of the blood blossom affected tissue that she had taken from Danny before covering the wounds again. A tiny sample encased in glass, but it should be more than enough for them to figure out how to neutralize the remainder of the toxin without hurting the lad further. “Orphan, Spoiler, are you okay with taking the first shift?”
“Sure thing,” Stephanie agreed, giving a thumbs up along with Cass.
“I’ll stick around too for now,” Jason added, for no other reason that he felt like he should stay there for a while. At least until they knew for sure who these Phantom kids were.
Dick seemed surprised, but didn’t argue. “Fine. Keep in touch, we’ll let you know as soon as we find anything,” he nodded, motioning for those who weren’t staying to head out. He knew Leslie would stay to double check their work on the other kids, so it ended up being just him, Tim, and Damian filtering out the door.
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I actually had this one all typed out before I even started the prologue one. So I just had to draw something today to get it all up.
Drawing this I looked up canon heights for the first time and found out that Danny is a tiny lil nugget, and that's adorable X'D
I also complained to Na about "having to draw Jason's stupid helmet instead of his pretty face" and she gave me the suggestion of having his face on the side.
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Tag list: @galaxy-sharks-and-bottled-ships, @starscreamlover, @nerdynonnativenarnian, @dragongoblet, @zeestarfishalien, @bellathecatastrophe, @cj-ghostemoji-destielpie, @asexual-insomniac, @wolfeyedwitch, @tkiesai
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pyrodolls · 25 days ago
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headcannons for cuddling with bayani?
CUDDLING HCS (SUPERFAN! YANDERE BOY X READER)
WARNINGS: sfw, kinda fluff, slight angst, worshipper yandere, kinda insecure bayani as usual, established relationship, lowercase intended, gender neutral reader, i do not condone yanderes
A/N: hey y'all... happy 2025. it feels so weird to say that. i posted my first fic on here a little over a year ago soooo thanks for sticking around with me for so long. i think my writing is still improving and i'm still not very satisfied with a lot of my work, but i really appreciate every single like and reblog i get. thank you guys! (p.s i've actually been writing x reader fanfics since i was 8 years old. you'll never find my old wattpad accounts...) btw i know the banner below is actually from some random manga i've never heard of BUT i was scrolling thru pinterest and saw him and i was like "yeah thats bayani."
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BAYANI is utterly clueless on the topic of physical affection. he's completely inexperienced when it comes to anything romantic in general. let's say you suddenly curled up to him while you two watched a movie. he froze and didn't know what to do. his anxieties drove him mad enough to distract him from the movie. should he put his arm around you? where do his legs go? should he lay his head against yours? your comfort is his top priority, so he'd gleefully mold himself into whatever position makes you happy without any regard for his own enjoyment. but should he directly ask you what position you favor? would it paint him as stupid to not already know of your preferred cuddling positions? his worst nightmare is looking like a fool before your eyes.
but as his overthinking worsened, you simply wondered why he froze and took his stillness as a sign that he was uncomfortable. you scooted away from him, and he frowned. did he do something wrong? oh crap, he really did embarrass himself in front of you. maybe he should speak up about it and ask why. if you broke up with him because of it, at least he'd know why.
"did i make you uncomfortable?" he muttered, quiet enough for you to hear but not loud enough to be clear.
"what? no, i moved away because i thought you were uncomfortable. i'm sorry that i did that, i probably should've warned you first..."
silence followed your words, with nothing but the sounds of the television and bayani's quick, uneasy breathing.
after choosing his words carefully in his head, he stammered. "well, i- uh... liked it. i just... didn't know what to do."
"oh, thank goodness. i thought i did something wrong," you laughed. "okay, here's what you do..."
you carefully moved closer to him, resting your body against his and laying your head on his shoulder. then, you moved his arm to wrap around your shoulder and gently pushed his head to the top of yours.
"there we go. see? just like this."
with his chin on top of your head, he directly felt the vibrations of your giggles overwhelming his senses and distracting him from the erratic beating of his heart. it always made him giddy to spend time with you, but being gently directed on how to please you gave him a new, fuzzy sensation in his body that he silently hoped would never end.
his existence is for your happiness. he is nothing but a toy for your enjoyment and amusement. your desires and needs are to be met at your command with no question from him. without you, he has no purpose-- nobody integral to serve. it may seem like a miniscule moment to you. a laughable misunderstanding, even. but to him, he is ashamed of himself for not immediately synchronizing with your needs. he'll remember that moment and take note of it for next time-- it'll haunt him every time he tries something new with you. even if you reassured him that you don't mind, his insecure nature will drive him to absorb every individual second of that memory and dissect it far more seriously than you can imagine. it’ll motivate him to be a better boyfriend for you.
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bratphilia · 1 year ago
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overtime (m. schmidt x reader)
request: "Hey ! Just discovered your account and I love your writtings ! I was wondered if you could write a smut and romantic thing with mike ? I dont have any specific context and all its up to you ! <3"
note: ty sm for showing love to my work and for requesting!! i finally was able to write something actually sweet with mike for the first time lmao.
pairing: mike schmidt x reader
tags: small age gap, fingering, missionary
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after putting abby to sleep, you fell asleep yourself in front of the tv. you couldn't help it! it was a long night of cooking spaghetti for abby (and ordering pizza, per her request), helping her build a fort, and coloring with her inside it. abby's a sweet kid, but babysitting has always tired you out in general. plus her older brother, your boss, started working the graveyard shift at his new job, so it would be unfeasible for you to not go to sleep during your time spent over there.
you woke up to the chair next to you being shifted in, and open your eyes to see mike sitting there, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. you feel embarrassed that you fell asleep on the job and quickly explain yourself. "i'm so sorry for falling asleep, i was just—"
he looks at you. "no need to apologize. i don't expect you to wait all night long for me."
awkward silence fills the air. well, that settles that. god, he's so cute, you think, even all stressed out and with bags under his eyes. he's also been nothing but kind to you since the two of you met. always concerned with how you're doing, how school is holding up, and just generally about your wellbeing. you try to do reciprocate as it's obvious mike doesn't have a lot of people in his life doing the same for him.
you're the first to break the silence. "uhm, there's leftover pizza in the fridge... you know, in case you want any..." you comment, not quite sure what else to say to him.
"oh! thank you," he says. "did abby ask you to..."
"make her spaghetti and order pizza? yes, she absolutely did."
both you and mike laugh. "i'll make sure i can pay you back for that. you really didn't have to—"
"mike," you interrupt, "seriously, don't worry about it. i understand your situation and i want to help you."
mike looks at you gratefully, almost lovingly.
"y'know—"
"so, i should really—"
the both of you talk at the same time. "oh, sorry, you go."
you smile gently. "no, you go. i was just going to say i should hit the road."
he runs a hand through his hair again, eyes darting across the room bashfully. "well i — uh, i just wanted to say thank you for all you do for abby... and for me. it means a lot. you're very... kind."
your smile widens at his awkward choice of words, but it deeply touches you that he appreciates you. you place a hand on top of his. "of course, mike. i'm always here for you."
mike looks at your hand and inhales deeply through his nose. "will you — will you stay for just a little while longer?"
before you know it he's on top of you on the couch, slamming his middle and ring finger inside you while you bite back moans. "gotta be nice and quiet for me, sweetheart. can't wake abby up, okay? or else i gotta stop and neither of us want that," he whispers to you sweetly.
instead of letting you respond, mike presses his lips against yours in a deep kiss while he continues to finger you. you break apart to quietly call his name, letting him know that you're close.
much to your dismay, he pulls his fingers out before you can come. "mike, please," you whisper.
"please, what, honey?" he teases.
you squeeze your thighs together, trying to relieve the tension in your core. "please fuck me already."
mike presses his forehead against yours, breathing sharply as he slowly pushes inside you, inch by inch. you bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out as your pussy swallows his hard length.
as he begins to move, he also clearly struggles to keep his noises to a minimum. as a solution, he envelopes you in a kiss as he moves inside you. his pace gradually increases from gentle to faster. the feeling is absolutely delicious.
he can feel your pussy spasming around him and his own dick pulsing too. he uses the hand caging you in on the couch to hold yours as he continues to fuck you.
"feel so good around me, baby," he whispers hotly. "you have no idea what you — ngh — do to me. every time i see you i always think about fucking you like this."
"mike," you moan quietly. his words only encouraged you.
his name becomes a whispered chant falling from your lips as he fucks you through your own orgasm. he's sure to pull out and come on your stomach while he pumps himself.
mike wipes the sweat off of his forehead and sits up so your legs lay over his lap. "sorry for pushing you into overtime," he jokes.
you give a small laugh. "no worries. it was my pleasure."
mike shakes his head at your dumb joke. then his smile fades and he looks at you seriously. "is it... too early to say that i love you?"
you lean up and meet his lips in a kiss as your answer.
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krirebr · 29 days ago
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Still Life 1
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Pairing: Alpha Curtis Everett x Omega Female Reader
Word Count: ~2.8k
Summary: Curtis has been volunteering as a foster alpha for three years now. He's never seen a case this bad...
Warnings: Angst (with an eventual happy ending), past abuse (not Curtis), alpha/beta/omega dynamics, physical scarring, extreme sexism, adult themes, explicit language, All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
Dividers by me this time!
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
A/N: Well, this is for all of you who thought you'd seen the worst angst I could possibly do. Sorry for how much this one's gonna hurt!
Big thanks to @paperweight91 and @bigtreefest who both read so much of this and helped with structuring and world-building. And huge thanks to everyone who showed so much enthusiasm for this idea. I'm so excited to share this story with you!
Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too!
As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜
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Nzzzz Nzzzz Nzzzz
Nzzzz Nzzzz Nzzzz
It took a moment for Curtis to pull himself out of sleep enough to realize the incessant noise was his phone vibrating loudly on his nightstand. It took another moment for him to pull himself together enough to answer it. “Hello?” he croaked.
“Morning, Curtis,” a harried voice came through from the other end. “This is Yona from the Omega Welfare Center. I'm so sorry to call so early, but we've had kind of a crazy night here and we're in need of several emergency placements.”
That had him waking up. “What happened?” he asked, seriously, sitting up in bed.
She sighed, all of her exhaustion coming through. “A traditionalist compound a couple hours away got raided by the feds and ATF. They prepared for some omegas, but… There were a lot more. Kids too. It’s been all hands on deck at all five omega centers in the state. We’re over capacity, so we’re just trying to place anyone we can immediately.”
“Shit,” Curtis mumbled to himself. Traditionalist communities popped up on the news every once in a while, populated mostly by alphas on a power trip. But this one sounded bigger than most. He looked at his clock. It was just past five. “I’ve got room for one,” he said. “And I can be there in an hour.”
“Thank you, Curtis. I’ll see you soon.”
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Fifty-five minutes later, Curtis was checking in at the center, his second coffee clutched in one hand. He’d been volunteering there as a foster Alpha for about three years. Mostly short-term placements. His longest one was just over a month. He provided safe touch, grounding, and a sense of security to omegas who needed to get back on their feet. He’d help them through heats when necessary, never knotting them, but whatever else they might need. Often, it was just his scent. It made him feel good, to be able to help these omegas, offer a positive alpha experience to omegas who hadn’t had many.
He’d worked with a few different case workers during his time. Yona had been the main one for the past year. He’d never heard her sound like she had that morning.
Even just at the front desk, he could sense how much more chaotic it was here than usual. He could hear babies screaming beyond the office door, endless anxious chatter. The entire building reeked of omegas in distress. It made his nose itch and his skin crawl.
After a few minutes of waiting, Yona came and got him. “How bad is it?” he asked the omega as she hurriedly led him down the hall. 
She showed him into a small meeting room as she answered, “Really, really bad. I’ve never seen anything like it. None of them are talking, but from what we can gather, most of them have spent their entire lives in the compound. No IDs, no papers. Figuring out who they are has been nearly impossible.  And as terrible as it may have been, their whole world was ripped apart in the last twenty-four hours. No one feels like cooperating. We hope you might have better luck as an alpha.”
“You think they'll talk to me?” 
She shakes her head. “Just the Omega we're placing with you. They've all been taught never to trust outsiders, but they've also been raised to see Alphas as the ultimate authority. So, it's worth a shot.”
He nodded, slowly. “What do you need?”
“Just basic identifying information for now. So we can see if she even exists in any sort of governmental system. Then we can go from there.”
“If you don’t have any information, what makes you think I’ll be a good fit for her?”
“Honestly,” Yona said, with a helpless shrug, “you only have room for one and she doesn’t have any pups. That’s it. Listen, I know this isn’t how we normally do things and I’m so sorry I’m just throwing you into it without any preparation, but we’re really desperate here. They’re all high needs, high risk. There’s no existing support network for them, and there are more of them than we have room for. So we called all of our most experienced, most dependable alphas first thing this morning so we can focus on the ones we have room to house here. I know it isn’t fair to you but–”
“Hey,” Curtis interrupted. “It’s ok, I understand. I’ll take care of her. I promise.”
“Thank you,” she breathed out, a small fraction of the tension she’d been holding bleeding out of her shoulders. “Ok, I’m gonna go bring her in.” 
She slipped through the door and Curtis leaned against the table in the center of the room as he waited. He took a deep breath and tried to focus on putting together a to-do list. He had two sets of nesting supplies always ready, one with his scent and one without. In the next few days, he’d try to figure out if there was anything else this omega wanted for the nest. He’d gone grocery shopping the day before, so his pantry was stocked, but he’d see if there were any favorite comfort foods he could grab in his next shop. He needed to rearrange his work schedule, push back some deadlines so he’d have time to get the omega settled. He had no idea what they’d be bringing with them, so a shopping trip for toiletries and clothes would probably be necessary. Depending on the omega's state, maybe he'd be able to get the shopping done on the way back to his house. He glanced at the time on his phone. Shit. Depending on what was open.
At movement right outside the door, he stood at attention. Yona came back in with you right behind her. He took a good look at you. You wore a rumpled long-sleeved floral dress that went down to your ankles. It was faded like it’d been washed too many times. Your eyes were fixed on the tennis shoes you wore, which had probably been white at one point, but now were discolored and looked like they didn’t fit quite right. 
There was a little hand-written number ten pinned to your dress. He wanted to raise a judgemental brow at Yona, but if none of you would say your names, he supposed Yona and her team had to come up with some way to keep track of you all.
He had to stifle a gasp when his eyes landed on your neck. There was a large bite scar over your mating gland. Unlike the neat and pretty, well-healed ones he was used to seeing, yours was deep and jagged, red and white, scar tissue bubbling up where your flesh had clearly been torn. This didn’t look like a mating bite. It was the sort of bite meant to inflict pain. What sort of alpha had you had??
Your eyes stayed on the floor, your expression blank but your scent said so much – panic, sadness, terror, relief all jumbled together. He wanted to reach out and touch you, his alpha instincts were going haywire, but he kept his hands to himself. 
“This is Curtis,” Yona said to you. “He's the alpha who's going to look after you until we can get all this sorted.”
You didn’t react at all, just stood there, stiff as a board with your eyes on your shoes.
He stayed where he was, conscious of giving you space. “It’s very nice to meet you,” he said, as gently as he could. Then, with a glance to Yona, “Can you tell me your name?”
Your face scrunched up and the fear in your scent spiked but you didn’t say anything. He sighed. Shit. He really didn’t want to have to use an alpha command with you right now. That could be disastrous for any dynamic he tried to build with you. But they needed this information. He really, really hoped you wouldn’t make him force you.
“Omega, what’s your name?” he asked as firmly as he could, hopefully without scaring you. “I need to know.”
You closed your eyes tightly and he thought he saw the smallest little head shake. There was another moment of silence and he looked at Yona nervously. But then, you said it. So quietly he almost didn’t catch it. But you said it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Yona frantically scribbling it down, but his focus was completely on you.
He tried to keep his sigh of relief to himself. “That was so good. Thank you. You’re doing so well,” he said, keeping the praise soft, hoping you could scent how pleased he was with you. “When were you born?”
You gave up your birthday a little more easily, but you left off the year. 
“That’s great. Thank you. Do you know how old you are?” he asked, maintaining his gentle tone, knowing it was possible that you didn’t.
For whatever reason, it was that that finally got a reaction out of you. You looked up at him, so he could finally see your eyes, and snarled, “I’m not stupid!”
There was a beat when no one did anything. Curtis and Yona just stared at you in shock. The snarl was frozen on your face until it suddenly disappeared and your eyes got wide. Before he was able to process any of what was happening, you’d dropped down onto your knees. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I’m sorry, Alpha. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Alpha, I’m sorry.” You just keep repeating that in a constant stream, your head tucked to your chest.
Repeatedly mixed into that jumble was a number. It took Curtis a few moments to realize it was your age. You were answering his question. He quietly repeated it to Yona, then dropped down to his knees as well so he could be closer to your level. “Hey, hey. You’re okay. You’re alright. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re right. You aren’t stupid. I can already tell how smart you are. It’s okay. I’m not mad.” He wanted to reach out and touch you, wrap you in his arms, even, comfort you however he could. But he was too afraid that that’d make you panic even more. That was a boundary he couldn’t cross. Not yet. He stayed down there, whispering reassurances to you for as long as it took for you to stop apologizing, and a few extra minutes for your breathing to calm down. Once you seemed like you were back in the present moment, he moved to a crouch. “Think you can stand up for me, honey?”
You nodded, but you were back to keeping your eyes downcast. “Yes, Alpha.”
He wanted to tell you that you didn’t need to call him ‘Alpha,’ that ‘Curtis’ was just fine. But that could wait until you were a little more comfortable. Once he had you home, maybe. He could already tell that picking his battles was going to be important.
“Thank you,” he said as he stood up to his full height, and you did as well. “You answered my questions so well. You gave me exactly what I needed.” He looked to Yona to see if there was anything else.
“Do you have any questions for me or Curtis?” she asked you.
You shook your head, emphatically, hunching your shoulders. The room filled with the scent of fear again.
“Okay… that’s fine,” Yona said, and he could tell how much she hated this. “Well,” she turned to Curtis, “I’ll go get the paperwork and then you two can get home. I’ll be right back,” she said to you, then left the room. 
This was happening too fast. In normal circumstances, you would have already been at the center for a few weeks, at least, with access to mental health professionals, life skill classes, and support groups. He’d be the last step before going back to the real world. You’d be ready to spend time with an alpha. Ready to work through processing positive physical attachments. Ready to learn how to share space with someone who wasn’t a threat to you. You’d be ready to slowly take steps into the world, with him there to support you.
You had backed yourself into the corner now. He could see the way every single muscle in your body was trying not to cower. You weren’t ready. You were nowhere near ready. But with all the resources for at-risk omegas pushed to their limit by this raid, what would happen to you if he didn’t take you? As insufficient as it might be, his help could be all you’d be able to get. This wasn’t how it should be, but he’d do everything he could for you.
Yona came back in and he watched her take you in, sighing at your state. He knew she was thinking the same things he was. “Ok,” she said, handing him the packet of forms to sign. “No changes since last time. You know the drill.”
He nodded as he grabbed them and sat down at the table, getting to work signing where he was supposed to. As he did, he felt your eyes on him as the scent of your apprehension filled the room.
Yona called your name. “Let’s go outside for a minute while Curtis finishes up.”
You both left quietly. This, too, was part of normal procedure. She was asking if you were sure you were comfortable leaving with him, telling you you had the option to say no, getting your verbal and written consent, and giving you cards with all the emergency numbers on them. He was afraid this situation might stretch the legal definition of informed consent. Based on everything he’d seen so far, he couldn’t picture a scenario where you’d say no. 
Nothing about this felt good, but everyone’s hands were tied. And he knew that he’d do everything he could to keep you as safe as possible.
A few minutes after he’d finished signing the last page, you and Yona came back in. A worn knapsack hung from your fingers. It was small, confirming Curtis’s suspicions that you didn’t have much in the way of clothes. Alright, that was priority number one.
Yona had a thin folder in her hand that she immediately passed to Curtis. “The regular information, along with her schedule of appointments for the next few weeks, both doctor and therapist. And the card for the agent in charge of the investigation into the compound, in case anything pertinent comes up.” Then she turned to you with a small box. “I’ve got a couple packets of suppressants for you. Do you want them or do you want Curtis to keep track of them for you?”
Your eyes cut to him suspiciously then flitted back to the floor. “Alpha,” you muttered.
“Okay,” Yona said, handing the box to Curtis as well. Then she clapped her hands together, her face set in grim determination. “I won’t keep you any longer then. I’ll see you both next week.”
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On the way out of the center, Curtis was all too aware of the way you walked exactly three steps behind him, one step to the left. That wasn’t just old-fashioned, it was archaic. He’d never seen an omega do it in real life.
At his truck, you looked at the truckbed in a way that made him worried you might try to ride back there, so he opened the passenger door for you and waited for you to get in. He resisted the part of his alpha instincts that wanted to buckle you in. And after a gentle request, you did it yourself.
As the two of you hit the road, he reached over to turn the radio on. He tried to move slowly, but you still flinched. “Want some music?” he asked quietly.
You didn’t respond, so he found an oldies station and left the volume low. His plan for the day had shifted a bit. You definitely weren’t ready to go shopping. That was fine. There was nothing that couldn’t be delivered.
About five minutes into the drive, the strong scent of your tears filled the cab. He looked over at you. You were huddled against the door, as far away from him as you could get. Your face was pressed against the window, so all he could see was the back of your head. But he could hear your sniffles and he could smell your distress.
It took everything in him to not pull over right now and reach over to comfort you. Pull you into his arms. Rub soothing circles on your back. But he knew that would do more harm than good. His touch wouldn’t be welcome. Yet. You weren’t ready.
And god, he wasn’t either. He wasn’t ready for any of this. But damn it, he was going to try.
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basicallyjeankirschtein · 1 month ago
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lost and found - toji x reader x sukuna
chapter 7: sukunas roommate
summary: sukuna brings you to his apartment so things don’t escalate with gojo and geto, there you meet his roommate.
* ooc, toji is shameless, crack, MDNI (a bit suggestive), NOT proof read 💔, lowkey i just am making the plot as i go sorry if it doesn’t make sense anymore i like adding random plot twists 💔
masterlist. prev. next
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“um. if you don’t mind me asking… why is your roommates contact image frankie from shark tales?” you said between breathless giggles. you were too giggly to worry if the text you sent from sukunas phone sounded like sukuna or not. from the way he texted you, you assumed dry and cold. you hoped you pulled it off.
you were a giggling mess. this was so stupid. this huge, scary guy gave you his phone- willingly- to text his roommate you’d be coming over, and his profile picture is frankie from shark tales??? is sukuna secretly really funny?
your giggles seemed to be contagious, as sukuna couldn’t help but chuckle too. only chuckle, never actually laugh. you didn’t know why.
“he kinda looks like him. it’s a joke my friend uraume and i have.”
uraume? you’ve heard that name before. was it from the argument between shoko and geto? you think so.
that would make sense, actually.. you began to realize, your five brain cells working together to piece that shoko wasn’t the one to get sukuna to beat up gojo- but uraume.
you just giggled in response, looking down at the phone with curiosity by how much this man- toji, was blowing up his phone.
“should i-“ you were about to ask if you should respond to him, but sukuna was quick to shake his dead. “don’t.”
you nodded, biting your lip once more. you didn’t know how to respond to him, unsure if he was mad at you.
you took once glance at his stoic face, a flash of something mean in his eyes. for the millionth time this night, you curled into yourself, self conscious it was your doing to make him so mad.
sukuna is always sensing your discomfort. it made you feel bad for being so sensitive, and when he turned to give you a small, reassuring smile, your worry drowned away.
you were curious to what toji was saying, the phone was still buzzing with notifications from his number… was toji mad that sukuna was bringing you home on such short notice? or- oh no- what if he thought you two were hooking up?!
you must’ve been blushing furiously, because sukuna asked you if you were hot. you lied, telling him you were as an excuse, and without second thought he turned the ac on full blast.
you sat in silence for the rest of the ride, comfortable silence. you were fiddling with your phone, anxiously waiting for a text from gojo or geto, but it never came, much to your satisfaction.
when you arrived, sukuna stepped out of the car. “stay in here for a moment, i just have to call my roommate.” you nodded, noticing the way he locked his car after departing to call toji. did he seriously trust you to not steal his car right now? not that you were going to, but wow, he held a lot of faith in you!
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sukuna groaned as he texted toji, a stressed hand running down his face. no way this douche just asked if she was single. he grumbled to himself as he hit toji’s contact and called him.
“yo,” toji spoke, his speech muffled around whatever food he was chewing.
“don’t be weird,” sukuna immediately said, voice cold. “i’m bringing her up now.”
before toji could retort, sukuna hung up. he didn’t want you to think he was taking too long.
moving to the passenger side door, sukuna unlocked his car and took your hand gently, “you okay?” he asked, voice gruff, as if he wasn’t sure how to sound friendly.
“mhm.” you nodded, “thank you for letting me stay tonight,” you smiled sheepishly, taking his hand with an appreciative smile and stepping out.
sukuna had to look away to hide his creeping blush.
“my roommates name is toji.” he began a conversation as he lead you up the complex’s multitude of stairs. “he’s fucking stupid, just ignore him.”
you just giggled in response, nervous yet oddly excited to meet this toji.
when you reached his door, sukuna opened the door for you. you didn’t expect him to be such a gentleman, considering his appearance. maybe it was wrong to judge a book by its cover.
“hey,” a surprisingly deeper voice called out, though it held more emotion than sukunas did.
“hi,” you waved shyly when you caught a glimpse of his roommate. you remember him from your psychology class. sukuna was right, he does kinda look like frankie from shark tales. you stifled a giggle.
toji immediately cracked a smirk at your shy behavior. it felt somewhat predatory… you didn’t know if you should be scared or turned on.
sukunas arm snaked around your waist, pulling you in the moment toji’s eyes wandered over your figure. he shot toji a warning glare, as if to silently say, she’s off limits.
but toji didn’t play fair, sukuna knew that.
“you brought home a pretty lil thing,” toji spoke mischievously, clearly trying to egg sukuna on. you blushed furiously at the comment, unsure if you should say thank you or stay silent.
“i told you toji, it’s not like that.” sukuna sighed, his grip around your waist tightening.
“looks like it,” toji whistled, glancing between your waist and his hand.
you shook your head, stammering slightly as you spoke, “no, no. he’s just… helping me out, tonight. i won’t be here again, i’m sorry.”
sukuna was about to scold you for apologizing, telling you there’s no need to and he invited you, but toji beat him to it.
“don’t apologize. i’d like to see you here again, under different circumstances.” he shot you a wink that had your knees weak.
you didn’t want to question what those ‘different circumstances’ were, but you were sure he was flirting.
sukuna growled, again. that same noise that had you both terrified and aroused.
“don’t say that shit,” he groaned, hitting toji’s shoulder. sukuna took your hand, practically yanking you along with him.
“like i said, ignore him.” he spoke, you could practically hear the way he gritted his teeth. he looked… jealous.
you just nodded, still bright red as you hummed along. “mhm.”
“do you need to take a shower?” sukuna asked, leading you to the bathroom. you smiled appreciatively, “that would be nice.”
though, walking into the men’s shared bathroom, you realized it would in fact not be nice. six in one? was this even legal? this couldn’t be fda approved.
you desperately wished you had your strawberry tree hut body scrub, your precious shampoo and conditioner, and at least a bar of soap! you’d also like some exfoliator and moisturizer, but they weren’t needs.
you have sukuna a ‘really?’ look, and, for the first time that night, he actually laughed.
“okay, order whatever you need.” he said, tossing you his phone as if it belonged to you.
“huh?” you blinked, eyes wide as you stared at him incredulously.
“my cards linked, just get what you need.” he spoke casually, as if this was normal.
you were about to reject his offer, tell him you could pay, but toji (of course) came in to ruin the moment.
“oh doll? you still showering? can i join?” he spoke, his voice low and flirtatious as he didn’t wait for a response, simply waltzing in. you didn’t know what made you blush more, the nickname or his obvious intentions of wanting to fuck.
sukuna looked like he was going to kill a man. that man being toji.
“ohhh i see, you’re already showering with sukuna. i’m sure you can make room for three.”
you choked on a laugh. even if you were interested (which, maybe you were. a little). the thought of both of these men in the same dinky shower together was hilarious. no way would there be room with even just the two of them, nevermind you.
“what’s so funny, dollface?”
“toji.”
sukunas voice had an edge to it you only heard once. when you told him about gojo and getos plans to intercept them in the car.
toji looked a bit taken aback, a scowl on his face now, mirroring sukunas.
“you’re no fun.” toji said after sizing his roommate up, leaving the bathroom, not without slamming the door. how petty.
you bit your lower lip, glancing between sukuna and the door that was just slammed in their faces.
“sorry about him.” sukuna spoke up, sighing. “buy whatever you want. don’t worry about how much it is.”
you frowned, “i’m going to send you the money back either way. besides, i use a lot of products, so it’ll hurt your wallet if i didn’t pay you back.” you laughed, trying to lighten the mood after whatever the fuck just happened.
“i’d rather it hurt my wallet than yours. just get whatever you usually use, i don’t care.”
and with that, sukuna left the bathroom. now you were all alone in two strangers apartment, stuck in the bathroom with one of their phones.
you didn’t know how someone could be so nice yet so cold at the same time. it was like he was a walking contradiction. was he upset with toji?
you could tell him you didn’t care, because truthfully you didn’t. yea, it definitely flustered you a bit (a lot), but it’s not like it made you feel unsafe.
you looked for your typical items, soap, body wash, shampoo, and conditioner. sure, you’d love to have a body scrub, exfoliator, and moisturizer too, but you didn’t want to kill this poor guys wallet.
you opted for cheaper options, though still finding things with your signature strawberry scent.
you felt a bit guilty as you checked out for delivery. you should probably pay back sukuna some how- for giving you a ride, a place to stay for the night, and free shower products.
when you exited the bathroom to return sukunas phone, he was nowhere to be seen. neither was roommate, toji.
this was even more awkward than hiding in their bathroom, you thought.
was it rude to sit on their couch uninvited? you wondered, plopping yourself down regardless. you noticed netflix was still open, whoever was watching was halfway through the first season of squid games.
you fiddled with sukunas phone, impatiently waiting for either of the two boys to come back so you didn’t feel so awkward. though a notification from your phone made you jump, quickly settling down sukunas phone to check yours.
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guys this photo is genuinely the funniest thing i’ve ever seen i love it so much
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cressidagrey · 2 months ago
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Holy Ground - Chapter 6
Summary:
Nobody knew that Azriel found his mate. Until she nearly died. This is the aftermath.
Warning:
Rhys Bashing (as usual), Inner Circle Bashing (kinda), Referenced/Implied Sexual Assault, Referenced/Implied Domestic Violence, Discussion of Religion(?), Chronic Injury/Pain/Illness, Minor Character Death (It's probably nobody you love), Magical Work Accidents, Explosions, Injuries
If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.
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It had been two days since…since Merrill’s death, and Irena was getting restless. While she appreciated Azriel’s presence, his constant hovering was starting to grate on her patience. Though she knew he meant well, it was beginning to feel a little like being under house arrest.
"Az," she said carefully that morning after he had tried to spoonfed her porridge, even when she had told him finally that she could just about manage to eat that on her own. "I love you, but you are driving me nuts," she told him seriously. "Please go and...do something."
Azriel looked at her, surprise flashing across his face at her straightforward comment. For a moment, he looked torn between wanting to keep watching over her... and wanting to not drive her crazy in the process.
Finally he relented, letting out a deep sigh. "Fine," he said gruffly. "I'll go find something to do. But I'm not going far, and I'll be back to check on you soon."
"Go punch Cassian, duck when he punches back, or something,” she suggested. 
Azriel rolled his eyes at her suggestion, but he couldn't help a small smile. "That's your recommendation?" he said dryly. "Go pick a fight with Cassian?"
Irena shrugged, wincing a little as the movement pulled at her still-healing leg. "It's a suggestion," she said dryly. "It would certainly help you burn off some of that energy you're burning through hovering over me constantly."
Azriel chuckled reluctantly at that, shaking his head. "You're impossible, you know," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Fine, I'll go pick a fight with Cassian. Happy?"
"Ecstatic," Irena told him drily.
There was a commotion outside the door, just at that moment.
"You can't keep me away from my friend!" Roslin. Irena would recognise her best friends voice anywhere.
Azriel heard Roslin's voice outside the door and immediately tensed up, his protective instincts kicking in. He looked at Irena, his expression concerned. "It's Roslin," he said quietly.
"Let her in," she said easily. "She can keep me company, while Cassian beats you up," she told him brightly.
Her mate just raised an eyebrow at her. "I can beat him up, too, you know," he said drily. Azriel dropped a kiss to her head, before he went to open the door wide. Irena craned her head, eeing Roslin go head to head with The General, while Gwyn was standing just a few paces behind her with Nesta.
The General looked slightly frazzled, as if he had been trying to hold back an incoming storm but was about to be blown away. Roslin, on the other hand, looked as fierce and stubborn as ever. Irena smiled at the sight of her friend.
"Ros," she called for her friend.Roslin's head whipped around at Irena's voice, and her expression immediately went from fierce to worried. "Irena!" she cried, shoving her way past The General and rushing over to the bed. "Oh my gods, you look horrible!"
"Thanks," Irena said wryly, rolling her eyes. "You look lovely too."
Roslin sat down on the edge of Irena’s bed, her eyes flicking over her friend's body, taking in the various bandages and scrapes. "Are you okay?" she asked anxiously.
Irena shrugged, wincing only slightly this time. "I'm fine," she said, trying to downplay the severity of her injuries. "Really, Ros, I'm okay. Azriel's just being paranoid."
Only then Roslin seemed to realise Azriel's presence, staring at him. "You owe me so many cookies," she hissed at Irena, making her laugh.
"You owe us so many cookies," Gwyn agreed, as she entered the room.
Azriel just looked at the two priestesses, his expression somewhere between exasperated and amused. "Cookies?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Don't ask," Irena said, shaking her head. "It's what we use to pay our dues in the library," she said with some amusement.
Roslin settled heavily on the bed beside her, taking her hand in hers. "I was so worried about you," she said quietly. "We all were."
Go, Irena mouthed to Azriel, who inclined his head, leaving the room.
"Alright, tell me," Roslin demanded as soon as the door closed. "How long has this been going on!"
"2 years," she admitted to her friend.
Roslin's eyes practically popped out of her head. "Two years?!" she exclaimed. "Two years and you never thought to tell me?"
"Seriousyl?!" Gwyn demanded. "You could have told us something!"
Irena sighed, feeling a little guilty for keeping it a secret for so long. "I know, I know," she said, shaking her head. "I just...I didn't know how to even say it, if I'm being honest. I just wanted time to figure it out...to wrap my head around it...He's my mate. I never thought I would have that," she explained softly.
Roslin and Gwyn both immediately softened at her words. "Oh, Irena," Roslin said, squeezing her hand gently. "I'm happy for you, truly."
"We're happy for you," Gwyn echoed, nodding. "Even if you kept us in the dark for two whole years."
"How did you even manage that?!" Roslin demanded. “Nobody had a clue?!”
Irena silently held up her wrist, where the shadows wrapped themselves around on a near daily basis. 
Roslin's eyes widened as she saw the shadows on Irena's wrist. "Are those...are those his shadows?" she asked, her voice dropping to a whisper.
Gwyn leaned forward, peering at the shadows with a mixture of curiosity and fascination. Irena nodded, the shadows moving against her skin in a comforting caress. 
"Yeah, they kind of have a mind of their own," she explained. "They follow me around constantly."
"They're beautiful," Gwyn said quietly, her eyes tracing the shadows as they shifted with each movement of Irena's arm.
"They look like they really like you," Roslin commented wryly, raising an eyebrow. "Just like the shadowsinger."
Irena blushed slightly at Roslin's comment, her lips twisting into a wry smile. "Thanks...?"
Roslin's eyes flicked over her friend's face, noticing the blush. "Oh, you’re blushing. That’s cute," she teased. "Is he..." Roslin trailed off. "He's always so serious..."
Irena chuckled softly. "Well, he's a spy," she said wryly. "Being serious kind of comes with the territory, I suppose."
Roslin leaned back against the headboard, her arms crossed over her chest. "True," she said thoughtfully. "But is he like that with you?"
Irena thought for a moment, her fingers toying with the edge of the blanket as she considered the question. "He's...he's less serious with me," she said slowly. "He's still serious most of the time, but he's also...he's sweet. He's gentle," she said softly.
"Azriel is kind," she explained. "And that's...He is everything I ever wanted.”
The complete opposite of her late husband in every way. 
Roslin and Gwyn shared a knowing look between them, clearly seeing the love and affection on Irena's face. "You really love him, don't you?" Roslin said gently. It was a statement, not a question.
Irena looked down at her hands, at the shadows that still curled around her wrist, and she gave a little nod. "More than I ever thought I could love anyone," she admitted softly. "He's...everything to me."
She hadn’t thought she would ever be in love…didn’t think that that was something that was going to happen to her…but there she was…And Irena was utterly and irrevocably in love with Azriel. 
There was silence for a moment, and then Roslin leaned over, pulling Irena into a gentle hug. "I'm happy for you," she whispered fervently. "I'm so happy you found someone who loves you like that. He...he treats you well?" she asked Irena softly.
"He spoils me rotten," Irena said drily.
Roslin laughed, the tension in her shoulders easing a little at Irena's answer. "Spoils you rotten, huh?" she repeated with a raised eyebrow. "So he's a complete softie, is that what you're saying?"
Irena chuckled, shaking her head. "Not a softie," she corrected. "But he's definitely...he's very protective. And he's always trying to take care of me, even when I don't need it."
"He certainly does like to hover," Gwyn agreed from the other side of the bed.
Roslin hummed in agreement, her eyes studying Irena's face. "But you like that, don't you?"
Gwyn laughed softly, an amused look on her face. "I bet he's even more broody than usual when he's around you," she said, a gleam in her eye. "Especially now, when you're hurt."
Irena swallowed at that reminder.
"What...What...When is the...Memorial Service for Merill?" she asked quietly.
The air in the room immediately darkened at the mention of Merrill. Roslin's face went a shade paler, while even Gwyn looked a little solemn.
"Tomorrow," Roslin answered quietly. "Clotho's handling the arrangements."
Irena nodded, swallowing past the lump in her throat. She took a deep breath, trying to hold back the sudden wave of grief that threatened to overwhelm her. There was a moment of heavy silence, filled only by the sound of her slightly labored breaths.
"I can't believe she is really gone," Irena said weakly. "I told her it was a bad idea but she didn't listen and..."
"Hey, it's not your fault, Irena," Gwyn said quickly, reaching out to rest a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You warned her. You told her not to do that...it's not on you."
"She didn't deserve to die like that," Irena choked out. "The library is supposed to be a safe place."
"And it is," Roslin agreed. "The library is a safe place. If one follows the rules and the guidance Clotho and you give. It's not your fault that Merill thought she knew better," Roslin said quietly. "Meera feels horrible by the way."
"What? Why?" Irena asked. "Is it about Merrill?"
"It's about you," Roslin said drily. "Irena, you wouldn't have been in that office if Meera hadn't come to you."Irena's eyes widened at that. 
"Wait, Meera thinks that she's responsible for what happened to me?" she asked, incredulous. "Why on earth would she think that?"
Roslin shook her head, her expression full of regret. "She's taking it really badly," she explained. "She feels like she's the reason you were...were hurt. She's been beating herself up about it all week."
"That's ridiculous!" Irena exclaimed, sitting up a little straighter against the pillows. "Meera had nothing to do with what happened! It was Merrill's actions, no one else's."
"Yeah, it was," Gwyn agreed. "It wasn't Meera's fault. And it also wasn't yours."
Irena took a deep breath, trying to control the wave of guilt that was still threatening to overwhelm her. It wasn't her fault...she knew that logically. But deep down, a part of her still wondered if there was something else she could have done to stop Merrill.
"I just...I keep going over it in my mind," she admitted softly. "Thinking about what if I had reacted differently, or if I had done something else..."
"Irena, you did what you could," Roslin interrupted firmly. "You warned Merrill not to use that spell, you told her it was too risky. What more could you have done?”
"I don't know," she whispered.
Roslin moved over towards Irena again, pulling her into another hug. "Don't blame yourself. It was Merrill's choice to use that spell. It was her choice to ignore your warnings. You did everything you could."
Irena leaned into the hug, letting her friends' words and presence soothe the tumultuous emotions still churning inside her. "You're right," she said softly. "I know you're right. But it doesn't make it any easier, does it?"
"No, it doesn't," Roslin agreed. "But you're not alone. You've got all of us. And you've got a big, broody, overprotective mate who's probably pacing outside the room right now. You have been holding out on us," Rosline teased her, and Irena couldn’t help but laugh.
***
Azriel stood outside the door of Irena's room, his back against the wall, his mind racing. He was torn between wanting to barge into the room and see Irena for himself and knowing he had to give her time with her friends. He'd never been a particularly patient or relaxed male, but waiting outside that blasted door was testing all his limits.
"How is she?" Cassian asked him.
Azriel let out a huff, his eyes locked on the door. "She's...she's in one piece, at least," he said gruffly. "Which I suppose is something."
Cassian let out a huff of his own, shaking his head. "You're a mess, you know that right?"
"I am very much aware," Azriel gave back testily. "Irena said I should hit you and duck when you hit back," he said with some amusement.
Cassian's eyes widened in surprise and then he burst out laughing. "She did, did she?" he asked, clearly amused by the idea of Irena advising Azriel to deck him.
"Will it make you feel better?" Cassian asked him.
"I think so," Azriel admitted. His brother jostled him with his wing.
"Then what are we waiting for?" Cassian said easily. Which was how they found themselves in the Sparring Ring again.
"I am sorry," Cassian said as he stepped back, taking up position. Azriel just sighed.
"You didn't do anything," he said with a shrug. Not really at least.
It wasn’t on Cassian. Cassian hadn’t been the main reason. Granted Cassian had said things that he hadn’t liked…ill-thought out things that had been hurtful…but Cassian had never carved out his heart like Rhys had done. It had just been…annoying. 
“I did,” Cassian disagreed. “I wasn’t particularly nice to you. I also really should learn when to shut up, one of those days.”
Azriel couldn’t help but snort. He moved with  grace and precision, years of training engrained in every move he made. But his mind was not fully focused, and Cassian was able to get a few blows in even as Azriel tried to beat his guilt and worry out of himself.
"You didn't tell me that you met your mate," Cassian said sharply. "I fucked up. I know that, Az."
Azriel blocked another one of Cassian's punches, grunting with the effort. "I didn't tell anyone," he said gruffly. "We didn't tell anyone."
He feinted left and ducked as Cassian attempted to punch him in the ribs, but Cassian was faster and caught him in the side anyway. Azriel grunted, the pain momentarily clearing his mind. He landed a blow of his own on Cassian's shoulder, sending his brother stumbling back.
They circled each other, sizing each other up. Azriel's mind was clearer now, more focused. He moved with more precision, his punches more calculated with each blow.
"Rhys admitted to what he did...about Elain...and about Mor," Cassian said carefully.
Azriel's jaw tightened at the mention of both females. He could feel the anger and hurt stirring inside of him again. But he couldn't let himself fall into that darkness, not now.
"It doesn't matter," Azriel panted.
"Why did you keep her a secret?" Cassian asked.
"Because Irena’s the best thing that ever happened to me. And because I wanted her just for myself," Azriel admitted seriously. "because I didn't want the pressure of anybody else...because I was hurt and angry at being treated like a soldier and not Rhys' brother...because I wanted one thing in my life that brought me happiness."
He lunged forward, aiming a punch at Cassian’s chest. Cassian blocked it expertly, but Azriel didn't give him time to counterattack. He feinted again, going low, then striking high. He landed a blow to Cassian's jaw, causing his head to snap to the side.
Cassian staggered, a trickle of blood staining his teeth. Azriel waited for him to steady himself. He knew he should feel guilty, they were brothers after all, but the relief of finally being able to do something, of not standing around and waiting, was too strong for it to take hold.
"She's your mate, brother," Cassian agreed. "Nobody is going to take her from you."
"Merrill nearly did," Azriel snapped.
Cassian let out a huff, wiping the blood off his mouth. "Merrill was a fool," he said with a shake of his head. "And it's not like I don't understand your worry, the thought of what could have been...it haunts me too. But Irena is alive. She's in that room with her friends."
Azriel exhaled, the anger and fear in him slowly subsiding. He lowered his hands, taking a step back from Cassian. He knew his brother was right, but that didn't make the worry or guilt any less.
"She's safe and she's alive," Cassian repeated. "She's yours, and you're hers. There's nothing more to it. She is your mate. It's the most powerful bond in the world. It's...it's a blessing, brother."
Azriel knew Cassian was right. The thought of Irena, his beautiful, strong, intelligent, and kind mate, sent a wave of fierce possessive need through him. He wanted to hold her, to keep her safe, to protect her with every breath he took.
"I know," he said simply.
"She's nice," Nesta said suddenly from the sidelines. "Irena. She seems...nice."
Both Azriel and Cassian looked up, surprised to find Nesta watching them from the sidelines. They'd both been so lost in their little sparring match, they hadn't even heard her approach.
Azriel straightened up, the tension easing from his shoulders slightly at the sight of her. Cassian, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised to hear Nesta complimenting someone.
"She is," Azriel agreed. "I think you could like her," he told Nesta. "She loves books as much as you."
Nesta's lips flickered into a small smile, a glimmer of interest in her eyes. "Does she?" she asked, her tone betraying her curiosity.
Azriel nodded, a small smile of his own tugging at his lips. "She adores them," he confirmed. "She has pretty much devoured the whole romance section over the last 2 centuries."
Cassian let out a bark of laughter. "Romance, eh?" he said with a knowing look at Azriel.
Azriel felt his cheeks heat up slightly. "Don't start," he warned.
Cassian laughed again, throwing his arm around Azriel's shoulders. "Did you romance her properly?"
Azriel's cheeks heated up even more at the implication, and he shot Cassian a sharp glare. "She's my mate, of course, I did," he retorted.
"Does she make you happy?" Nesta asked him seriously.
Azriel's expression softened at that. He paused for a moment, the question carrying more weight than he would have expected. "Yes," he said quietly, the word simple yet honest. "She makes me happier than I ever thought I could feel."
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wonderjanga · 3 months ago
Note
batman keeps trying to put trackers on marvel's costume, but none of it actually comes off, and the parts he can put trackers on are all like, magical, so they break the trackers and he's so mad about it
Bruce has tried so many ways to track Marvel it’s honestly driven him mad.
First he tried looking for the man using CCTV cameras only to realize Fawcett doesn’t have any. Oh no, no no no, he got the grainy, haven’t been used since the 80s, security cameras. So he ends up combing through all of these cameras because of how old they are because he can’t use the software he normally uses to quickly find people. He also had to do this all on his own because Barbara was busy, and none of his other kids wanted to help him because they all like Cap. And then, when he finally finds the Captain…
Batman: *staring at the Batcomputer intently*
Marvel: *standing in an alleyway* “Shazam.”
Batman: *doesn’t understand what he said, because the audio is too crappy to decipher, but doesn’t have enough time to register that as the cameras immediately cut off*
Bruce nearly… What did Tim call it? Ah yes, crashed out. Bruce nearly ended up crashing out over this. But whatever, right? There’s always multiple solutions to a single problem.
So, he then tried a more simple solution: trackers. Small tiny little things no bigger than his pinky finger. He stuck one onto Marvel’s shoulders as the Captain was leaving for the day.
Batman: “Captain. I would like to say that you fought wonderfully today.” *puts hand on Marvel’s shoulder and places the tracker*
Marvel: “You think so? Thanks.” *sunny ahh smile*
Bruce in fact did not think so, but he needed an excuse to touch Marvel’s shoulder. Anyways, the tracker didn’t even last an hour before he got a notification that it was broken, or rather fried, by electricity. Honestly, that might as well have been Bruce’s fault. One of the man’s major powers is electricity for Christ’s sake. So after a bit, he went and upgraded the trackers to now be electrical resistant.
Marvel: *walking to the zetas*
Batman: “Captain, you own a tiger, yes?” *starts walking with him*
Marvel: “Ah, yes, why?”
Batman: “Robin’s been asking about getting a tiger.”
Marvel: “Oh really? You wanna know some tips or something?”
Batman: “If you’d be willing to share, I’d appreciate it.”
Marvel: “Oh, okay then!” *proceeds to yap about tigers the whole was to the zetas*
Batman: *sneakily tacks the electric resistant tracker on him*
Bruce learned a lot about tigers that day. He never seen the man so informative and passionate about a subject other than magic. If only he’d put that same passion into his reports. Seriously, who alternates between their left and right arm on a professional report? At least do it on a piece of scratch paper or something. (This is a reference to post I saw a while ago about Marvel and Billy writing reports together. Because of that, half of the report was in super duper fancy shmancy handwriting and the other was in chicken scratch)
But anyways, back to the second tracker. See, it actually did the opposite of what it was designed to do, which was track and be resistant to electricity. It actually ended up shorting out and therefore losing its ability to track. Bruce now realized he underestimated Marvel’s electricity.
Now onto Bruce’s third attempt. He had the tracker enchanted with magic.
Batman: “Marvel, I’d like to talk to you about Junior.”
Marvel: “Sure? Is he in trouble?” *sounds concerned*
Batman: “No. You see, Robin’s been wanting to have a play date with him.”
Marvel: “Oh uh… I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” *sounds hesitant* “I’ll have to ask him about it:”
Batman: “That’s fine.” *pats his shoulder and plants the tracker* “Get back to me when you’ve both come to a decision.”
Funnily enough, Bruce didn’t even get ten feet away before he got a notification that the tracker was destroyed. Billy felt the magic in the tracker and honest to the gods he thought it was a bug and swatted his shoulder.
Meanwhile, Billy’s confused but happy that Batman has been talking to him so much recently.
Eventually, after much trial and error (47 attempts) Bruce finally got a tracker that worked. He watched on the GPS as Marvel dipped into an alleyway and… dipped off of the face of the earth? He stared at it for a solid minute wondering if he should be concerned. It’s not like Marvel knows he’s been trying to track him. He has no idea how upset the man would be so he waited. Five minutes passed of Bruce waiting for the little dot representing Marvel to reappear. He then couldn’t take it anymore and started spamming Cap’s comm and was about to notify the other JL members until he finally picked up.
Batman: “Captain? Captain, are you there?”
Marvel: “Yeah? Yeah I am Mister Batman Sir? Is something wrong?”
Batman: “The GPS on your comm showed that you disappeared off the map for fifteen minutes.”
Marvel: “Oh really? Well I’m sorry for worrying you, Mister Batman Sir. I just went to the Rock of Eternity. That’s probably why I didn’t appear.
Batman: “What is the Rock of Eternity?”
Marvel: “Oh, it’s this rock that’s the cent- OH SHOOT.” *loud crash comes from his end*
Batman: “Is everything alright?”
Marvel: “Yeah- look I’m sorry but Black Adam’s here and he just threw a building at me. See ya, Mister Batman Sir.”
So yeah. After everything he went through only to come up with no results, Bruce is mad. Rolling in his grave even. The worst part is that he doesn’t even technically have the right to be mad, considering the fact that he was going behind one of his colleagues back’s and trying to track them without their consent. Though to be fair, Bruce did it because you can’t just have somebody that powerful running around and unchecked without a recorded weakness. But what makes him even more mad is that just when he was about to get the slightest semblance of information, a villain ruined it. At least he has a name now. The Rock of Eternity. It’s probably a magic thing that he’ll end up asking Zatanna about. He hates magic.
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thelostconsultant · 4 months ago
Text
Tie it up
pairing: Max Verstappen x reader
summary: She's busy picking the perfect paper for the wedding invitations, while Max is busy staring at her.
note: Clingy and smitten Max.
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Sometimes Max found himself watching his fiancée with a dreamy smile, especially when they were supposed to discuss certain things about the wedding that required their decisions. Like now, when they were looking at paper samples. For all he cared, they could have just sent an email to their guests, but she was hell-bent on keeping to the traditions. So he played along, sitting next to her by the dining table as she focused her attention on the papers, but he couldn’t think about things like whether they should pick a heavier or a lighter paper. It didn’t matter. It was just paper.
He was too busy admiring her–the delicate curves of her face, that buzzing excitement in her eyes, the smile that made him stare at her lips a little too long. These moments they spent together were his favorites, especially when he could let her take the lead, making decisions for the two of them while he was thinking about how lucky he was to have her in his life.
“Max?”
“Hmm?” he asked, his smile not fading. 
She let out a short laugh before she leaned closer to give him a quick kiss on the lips. “I narrowed it down to two options. The final decision is yours,” she said, pushing the two pieces of paper in front of him. 
His eyes turned to the table before he picked them up and moved his fingers to feel how thick they were. Like he knew what to look for. Did it even matter? But it was important to her, so he wanted to at least make it look like he was just as invested in this as she was. With a thoughtful hum, he put down the one that was perfectly white, and raised the other that had a creamy tint to it. “This one,” he said with a triumphant grin. 
“Great! Next up, the design,” she informed him.
But Max let out a disappointed groan, then even rested his forehead on her shoulder. “Can’t we do that tomorrow? Picking the paper was tiring enough.”
“One, you didn’t really do anything,” she pointed out kindly, a statement that brought a smile to his face again. His beloved, attentive lover, the one who knew perfectly well he didn’t care about the paper, but still appreciated the minimal effort he put into it. “And two, you can drive around a racetrack for an hour and a half at least with no issue, but you don’t have the energy to look at papers and designs while sitting by a table?”
“Please?” he tried. 
The young woman let out a sigh as she placed her small hand on the back of his neck, letting her fingers get lost in his hair while she massaged his scalp. “We have to take a look at the guest list too before you leave for the next race,” she said quietly.
“Then come with me and we can continue there.” He leaned back to look her in the eye, silently begging her to let this go for now. But he couldn’t read her expression, that kind smile was only telling him that she loved him, not that she would let him do something else tonight. “Come on, I can’t do this today.”
“What do you want to do then?”
“Sleep.”
With a frown, she looked down at her phone to check the time. “It’s barely eight,” she said with a surprised look. 
Max sneaked his arms around her body like he was an octopus, keeping her close while he buried his face into the crook of her neck. “I don’t care. I just want to get in bed and cuddle with you.” Her adorable giggle brought a smile to his face, and he placed a soft kiss on her skin as a token of gratitude, because he knew she was on board with his plan. After all those years together, it was easy to read her like a book. “Thank you,” he murmured. 
Her hands rubbed soothing circles into his back, making him purr like his cats. “I love you, Max,” she told him after placing a soft kiss on his head. “Even if you don’t take this wedding preparation seriously,” she added with a small laugh.
Letting out a sigh, he looked at her and went, “It could be an email.”
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pucksandpower · 10 months ago
Text
Lover
Charles Leclerc x Reader
Summary: the little (and not so little) ways that you and Charles show your love for each other
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You’re in the kitchen, phone pressed to your ear as you listen intently to Charles’ mother give you her famous tiramisu recipe step-by-step. “Now, this next part is very important,” she stresses. “You’ll need one cup of granulated sugar to add to the mascarpone filling.”
“Got it, one cup sugar for the filling,” you confirm.
Pascale chuckles warmly. “I’m so glad Charles has found such a lovely girl who wants to learn my recipes. He’s always loved my tiramisu since he was a little boy.”
You smile, touched by her kind words. You and Charles have been together for a year now, but it still makes your heart flutter to be so accepted into his close-knit family.
“It means so much to me that you’re sharing this recipe with me,” you tell Pascale sincerely.
You chat with her a while longer, going over some of the trickier steps and getting tips on how to best soak the ladyfingers. Finally, you have the full recipe memorized and are ready to give it a try.
“Okay, I think I’ve got it now. Thank you so much again, Pascale! I really appreciate you taking the time to walk me through this.”
“Of course, chère! Let me know how it turns out. Charles is a lucky man to have such a thoughtful girlfriend,” Pascale says warmly before hanging up.
You grin, eager to get started. You know tiramisu is Charles’ absolute favorite dessert and you want to surprise him with a homemade version tonight after he finally comes back from his latest race.
Humming to yourself, you gather the ingredients — mascarpone, eggs, espresso, cocoa powder, and of course, the sugar. You double check you have everything and preheat the oven so the ladyfingers will be perfect.
As you start the recipe, you feel a rush of excitement. You follow each step meticulously, Pascale’s voice guiding you in your mind. You carefully separate the eggs and beat the whites to stiff peaks. When it’s time to add the sugar to the mascarpone filling, you pause.
Now, which one was the sugar again? You look between the two identical jars of white powder, second-guessing yourself.
Shoot, you should have labeled them.
After a moment of hesitation, you decide on the bowl on the left. Yes, that must be sugar, you reassure yourself. You mix it into the silky mascarpone filling until it’s perfectly combined. Once assembled, you spread the filling over the ladyfingers and cover it with a final dusting of cocoa powder.
It looks absolutely beautiful. You did it! You made Charles’ favorite dessert completely from scratch. You can’t wait to see the look on his face when he takes the first delicious bite.
You glance at the clock as you clean up. Charles will be home soon. You carefully store the tiramisu in the fridge to chill until after dinner.
Right on time, you hear Charles’ keys in the lock. You hurry to greet him, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. “I missed you!”
He grins and nuzzles your neck. “And I missed you, ma belle.”
Over dinner on the balcony, Charles tells you all about the race and his ambitious one-stop strategy under the Suzuka cherry blossoms. You listen attentively, asking questions and laughing at his dramatic reenactments.
Finally, it’s time for dessert. “I have a surprise for you,” you say with a playful smile.
Charles’ eyes light up. “Oh really? Do tell!”
You bring the chilled tiramisu to the table, along with two small plates and forks. “Ta-da! I made your favorite, with your mom’s secret recipe.”
“No way, you’re kidding!” Charles exclaims. He takes in the layered dessert with delight. “It looks incredible, mon cœur. I can’t believe you did this for me.”
You blush happily as you dish out servings for both of you. “I hope I did it justice. Your mom walked me through the whole thing over the phone.”
Charles takes a big eager bite, closing his eyes as he savors it. “Mmm … it’s absolutely delicious,” he declares after swallowing. “Seriously, this is amazing. Here, you have to try it!”
He holds out a forkful toward you. You accept it into your mouth, immediately bursting into incredulous laughter. “Oh my god, this is so salty! I definitely screwed up somewhere. You don’t have to eat it!”
But Charles just grins and takes another hearty bite. “What do you mean? It tastes perfect to me.”
You stare at him in confusion. “You can’t actually like this, Charles. It’s like I poured the entire salt shaker in by accident.”
“No no, it’s great! The best tiramisu I’ve ever had,” he insists. Seeing your disbelief, he takes your hand from across the table. “Really, Y/N. I love it because you made it just for me. With love. That’s what makes it so special.”
You feel your insides turn soft and melty at his words. “You’re just saying that to be nice,” you protest weakly.
He shakes his head. “I’m saying it because it’s true. Because ...” He pauses, looking into your eyes sincerely. “Because I’m completely in love with you, mon amour. I’d eat a thousand salty tiramisus if it made you smile like this.”
You can’t help the joyful laugh that escapes you. “You’re such a hopeless romantic, you know that?” You tease him.
“Only for you,” he flirts back with a playful wink.
You lean across the table to kiss him tenderly. When you pull back, the adoration shining in his green eyes leaves you breathless.
Maybe he’s right. It doesn’t matter that the tiramisu is an utter fail. All that matters is that you made it with love.
And that’s the sweetest taste of all.
***
It’s been a few weeks since your salty tiramisu mishap. You and Charles laughed about it afterwards, but you were still determined to make him something special with your own two hands.
So you decided to take up crocheting. It was trickier than you expected, but you persevered, watching YouTube tutorials and getting tangled in yarn for hours.
Finally, after a month of work, you’ve produced your first wearable creation — a sweater for Charles.
It’s an oversized style, cream colored with red racing stripes across the chest. You did your best to evenly stitch the rows, but there are gaps in some places that cause the stripes to waver drunkenly.
The sleeves are several inches too long, dangling adorably over Charles’ hands when he tries it on. And the neckline gapes open no matter how he tugs it.
But none of the flaws matter to Charles. His face lights up like a kid on Christmas morning when you present it to him.
“You made this? For me?” He asks as he eagerly pulls it on.
You nod, suddenly shy. “I wanted to make something special for you, even if my skills are still .... developing,” you admit with an embarrassed chuckle.
But Charles is beaming, admiring himself in the mirror. “It’s perfect! Seriously, I love it. This is the best gift ever!”
He engulfs you in a big hug, sleeves flopping over you. You hug him back, relieved and happy he appreciates your efforts.
From that day on, Charles insists on wearing the sweater constantly, even styling it with whatever eclectic pants he decides to wear on race weekends.
You try to discourage him — the holes along the hem are getting bigger from snagging and the neckline is truly unsalvageable.
But Charles won’t hear it. “Are you kidding? This is my new lucky charm!” He declares. “I have to wear it for every race now.”
Sure enough, he starts a winning streak whenever he dons your handmade sweater, even though it’s quite a departure from the fitted shirts and designer hoodies he previously favored, leaving his fans scratching their heads at the sudden change.
You watch in amused endearment as he proudly wears your gift for candid pre-race interviews and photo-ops. The overlong sleeves just make his exuberant gestures even more adorable.
Finally, a reporter works up the courage to ask him about the quirky sweater. “That’s quite a statement piece you have been arriving in each Sunday,” the reporter comments during a press conference. “What made you decide to wear it?”
Charles’ face lights up even more. “My sweater? It was handmade for me by my incredible girlfriend,” he announces, making you blush furiously from the audience.
“She worked so hard on it, even though crocheting is totally new to her. So I wear it to show how much I appreciate her and how talented she is,” he continues sincerely.
The reporters “aww” as Charles shows off the uneven stitches like they’re couture. “It’s my good luck charm now too! She put so much love into making it that I feel like I can’t lose whenever I have it on.”
He looks directly at you, eyes shining. “It’s the best gift I’ve ever received, because she made it just for me. I’m the luckiest man in the world to be with someone so thoughtful and caring.”
You have to wipe away joyful tears at his heartfelt words. You never imagined your clumsy crocheting would come to mean so much to him.
But Charles wears that sweater for every race, no matter how tattered it gets. Because for him, it represents something priceless — your love.
***
You hum along to the radio as you stir the melted chocolate in a bowl. The rich aroma fills the air of your shared apartment. Today is Valentine’s Day and you want to surprise your boyfriend with homemade chocolate-covered strawberries when he gets home from training.
You dip the first plump, red strawberry into the silky chocolate, letting the excess drip off before placing it gently onto a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. One by one, you coat each strawberry, taking care to fully submerge them.
When the tray is full, you quickly pop one glistening strawberry into your mouth and slide the rest into the fridge to let the chocolate harden. As you wait, you tidy up the kitchen, washing the bowls and utensils used to make the treat. A glance at the clock on the microwave tells you Charles will be home soon.
The sound of the front door opening makes you grin. “Mon amour, I’m back!” Charles calls out.
You grab the tray of chocolate-covered strawberries and head towards his voice. “Welcome home! I have a surprise for y-”
You stop short, your throat suddenly feeling scratchy and tight. Your lips tingle oddly.
Confused, you lift a hand to your neck. Is this just excitement to see Charles? But no, your tongue is starting to swell now too. Your breathing becomes labored.
Charles rounds the corner. “Mon ange, what’s wro-” His eyes widen as he takes in your distress. In a few quick strides he is by your side, the tray clattering forgotten to the floor. “What’s happening?”
You wheeze, barely able to force out words. “Can’t … breathe …”
Charles sweeps you into his arms and runs for the front door. “Hospital. Now.”
You cling to him, each ragged breath a struggle. The world seems to blur and tilt alarmingly.
Then somehow you’re in Charles’ car, speeding down the street. One of his hands grips the wheel while the other clutches yours tightly. “Just hold on, stay with me. We’re almost there.”
You try to respond but only manage a choked gurgle. Black spots swim across your vision. A feeling of detachment steals over you.
The car screeches to a stop outside the emergency department entrance. Charles lifts you from the passenger seat, calling for help. There is a flurry of activity as a team of doctors and nurses rushes over with a gurney.
You are barely aware of being wheeled into an exam room, too focused on trying to pull air into your lungs. A mask is fitted over your face, dispensing blessed oxygen. An IV is inserted into your arm.
The medical staff works quickly, asking Charles questions as they begin treatment. Antihistamines. Steroids. Epinephrine. The medications slowly start to counteract your reaction. The vice-like tightness in your chest and throat gradually lessens.
After what feels like an eternity, you are able to take full breaths again. The room comes back into focus, no longer spinning. Charles sits at your bedside, clutching your hand, his handsome face creased with worry.
The doctor examines you, nodding with satisfaction as your symptoms continue to improve. “It appears you had a severe allergic reaction. We’ll run some tests to determine the cause.”
Charles looks stricken. “But how? What could have possibly …” His gaze falls on your swollen lips. “The strawberries,” he whispers.
You nod weakly. It had to have been. You’ve never reacted to them before, but an allergy can develop at any time.
Charles smoothes back your hair, distress pouring off of him. “I’m so sorry, mon cœur. I should have been there with you.”
You squeeze his hand. “You couldn’t have known. I’m okay now thanks to you.”
He just shakes his head, unconvinced.
The testing confirms it — you are now mysteriously allergic to strawberries. The doctor gives you an EpiPen prescription and strict instructions to the fruit in the future.
After several more hours of observation, you are finally discharged from the hospital with an exhausted Charles supporting you.
The sun has long since set on what was supposed to have been a romantic Valentine’s Day. Instead, you spent it swollen and terrified in the ER.
Back home, Charles tucks you into bed, insisting you rest. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror — puffy-faced and red-eyed — and cringe. Some Valentine you turned out to be.
You reach for Charles’ hand again. “I’m so sorry I ruined our evening. I wanted it to be perfect but instead I ended up scaring you half to death and forcing you to rush me to the hospital.”
Charles silences you with a gentle kiss. “Not another word, mon amour. You have nothing to apologize for. All that matters is that you are safe.”
He caresses your cheek, looking at you with such love and tenderness it makes your heart ache. “You could never ruin anything. You are the light of my life — my everything. No Valentine’s Day is complete without you.”
You feel yourself tearing up. Even after the ordeal of this evening, he still looks at you like you hung the moon.
“You’re still the most beautiful Valentine I’ve ever had, you know that? A little swelling can’t hide that.” Charles brushes away your tears and pulls you close. “Rest now. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
You nestle into his embrace, letting his warmth and steady heartbeat soothe you. As you drift off, you can’t help but marvel at how lucky you are to have this man. Even at your puffiest and most distressed, he thinks you’re beautiful.
No matter what surprises life throws at you, with Charles by your side you know everything will be okay. He loves you unconditionally — swollen lips, hospital visits, and all.
***
“Close your eyes,” you say to Charles as you lead him into the living room.
He laughs and covers his eyes with his hands. “What are you up to, mon amour?”
You grin, though he cannot see it. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
You guide him across the room, hands on his shoulders. He shuffles along, peeking through his fingers.
“No peeking!” You scold, and he squeezes his eyes shut again, smiling.
You position him in front of the coffee table. “Okay,” you say. “You can open your eyes now.”
Charles drops his hands. On the table sits a large gift-wrapped box with a massive red bow on top. His eyes go wide with surprise and delight.
“For me?”
You nod, bouncing on your toes excitedly. “Happy birthday!”
He pulls you into a tight hug. “You are too good to me, ma belle. Thank you.” Leaning down, he captures your lips in a sweet kiss.
You swat his shoulder playfully. “You don’t even know what it is yet! Open it.”
Charles grins and turns his attention to the present. He carefully unties the bow and lifts the lid on the box. Inside sits a sleek red bomber jacket with the Ferrari logo embroidered on the chest. He runs his fingers over the leather appreciatively.
“This is beautiful,” he murmurs.
“Look on the back,” you prompt.
Charles turns the jacket over. Across the back, in bold white letters, it reads: DADDY.
His eyes go wide again, and for a moment he just stands there gaping at the jacket. Then his eyes roll back in his head and he collapses to the floor in a dead faint.
“Charles!” You rush to his side, kneeling next to him on the plush carpet. Gently you pat his cheek, trying to rouse him. “Charles, wake up!”
After a few tense moments, his eyelashes begin to flutter. You breathe a sigh of relief as he opens his eyes.
“Wha … what happened?” He mumbles.
“You fainted, silly.”
You help him sit up slowly. He puts a hand to his head, still looking dazed.
“I had the strangest dream …” He trails off, glancing around the room. His gaze lands on the jacket lying nearby, and his eyes widen again.
“It wasn’t a dream,” you say softly.
Charles looks at you, lips parted in shock. “Then you … you’re …”
You furrow your brow in confusion. “I’m what?”
“Pregnant!” He exclaims. “We’re having a baby!”
Now it’s your turn for your eyes to go wide. “What? No! I’m not pregnant!”
Charles frowns, thoroughly bewildered. “But the jacket said … I thought it was your way of telling me we’re expecting.”
You can’t help but laugh. “Oh my goodness, no. The jacket is for a very different reason.”
He looks almost disappointed. “It is?”
You take his hands in yours. “I know you’ve been talking about getting a dog for months now, ever since you met Mimi.”
Comprehension begins to dawn on Charles’s face. “So the jacket …”
“Is for our new puppy!” You finish excitedly.
Charles’ face lights up. “You got me a dog? Really?”
You nod, grinning. “Really! I picked him up yesterday from the shelter. He’s the cutest little dachshund, white with brown spots. I’ve been keeping him at your brother’s so I could surprise you today.”
Charles whoops and tackles you in another ecstatic hug. You laugh as he covers your face in rapid, smacking kisses.
“This is the best birthday surprise ever!” He crows. “I can’t believe we’re finally getting a dog. And the jacket — it’s perfect!”
He grabs the bomber and shrugs it on over his t-shirt. It fits him flawlessly, the white lettering bold against the red.
Charles scrambles to his feet and rushes to the nearest mirror, twisting this way and that to admire himself. “I love it! Thank you, thank you!”
You stand and wrap your arms around him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I’m so glad. But you should really be thanking your new baby boy.”
Charles turns in your arms and cups your face in his hands. “Have I told you lately that you’re the best girlfriend in the world?”
You grin up at him. “Hmm, I don’t recall. Feel free to remind me.”
“You …” He punctuates each word with a kiss. “Are …” kiss “The …” kiss “Most …” kiss “Thoughtful …” kiss “Loving …” kiss “Girlfriend …” kiss “In …” kiss “The …” kiss “World.”
You pretend to swoon. “My, what a sweet talker you are.”
He chuckles and kisses you tenderly. When you break apart, his eyes are shining.
“So when do I get to meet our new baby?” He asks eagerly.
“Right now, if you want,” you say. “We can go pick him up from Lorenzo.”
Charles pumps a fist in the air. “Yes! I’m going to be the best dog dad ever, just you wait and see.” He crouches down and coos, “Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy?”
You pat his head playfully. “You’re a good boy.”
Taking your hand, he practically drags you out the door, babbling excitedly about names, beds, toys, and treats for the puppy the whole way to the car. Your heart swells watching his enthusiasm. You know that dog is going to be the most loved and cared for pup in the world.
When you arrive at his brother’s apartment, Charles bounds up to the front door ahead of you, unable to contain his excitement. Lorenzo opens it laughing, the wiggling brown and white puppy in his arms.
“Someone’s here to see you!” He says, handing the squirming bundle of fluff to Charles.
“Hello, hello!” Charles cuddles the puppy to his chest, his whole face alight with pure joy. The pup responds by licking every inch of Charles’ face he can reach.
Charles laughs delightedly. “Aren’t you just the sweetest boy? Yes you are!”
He looks up at you, eyes shining. “Thank you, mon cœur. This is the best gift I could have asked for.”
You lean in and scratch the puppy behind his silky ears. “Of course. Happy birthday, my love.”
As you walk back to the car, Charles cradling the puppy like a newborn, you know in your heart that your little family is one step closer to completion.
***
The race weekend after Charles’ birthday feels strange. As you wander through the Ferrari garage during free practice, Fred rushes over looking concerned.
“Here, take a seat,” the team principal says, grabbing a folding chair and positioning it behind you. “You should not be on your feet so much in your condition.”
You frown in confusion. “What condition?”
But the French man has already hurried away. Shaking your head, you continue walking. It’s a few minutes later that you spot Pierre.
“Hey!” He says, jogging up to you. Before you can react, he places both hands on your stomach and smiles brightly. “Wow, it’s hard to believe that little baby Leclerc is in there! I can’t wait to meet my niece or nephew.”
Now you’re really bewildered. You take a small step back from Pierre’s wandering hands. “What are you talking about? I’m not pregnant!”
Pierre laughs. “Very funny. You don’t have to hide it from me.” He winks and walks away.
When Charles finds you later, you’re still puzzling over the strange encounter.
“Everyone is acting so weird,” you tell him, explaining what’s been happening all day. "It’s like they all think I’m pregnant or something."
Charles frowns. “That is odd. Where would they get that idea?”
You shake your head. “I have no idea …”
Later, after the last practice session of the day, you wander into Ferrari hospitality for a quick cup of coffee. Carlos quickly spots you and makes a beeline over, cheeks flushed with excitement.
“I just saw the photos of Charles wearing his new jacket.” He says. “A mini Leclerc on the way, how wonderful! Congratulations to you both.”
“What? No, there’s no …” you start to protest, but Carlos is already walking away.
Charles comes up beside you, having overheard. “This is getting out of hand,” he mutters. “We need to clear this up.”
“I know!” You say. “I feel bad, they all seem so excited. They must think we’re hiding a pregnancy from them.”
An idea comes to you then. Turning to Charles, you say loudly, “Honey, why don’t we go introduce the baby to everyone? I know they’re all just dying to meet him!”
Charles catches on immediately, smiling slyly. “Of course! Let’s go get our little one right now.”
You nod, linking your arm through his. As you walk away, you hear gasps and murmurs behind you.
“They already had the baby? When did this happen?”
“I can’t believe they’ve been hiding it all this time!”
You have to stifle a laugh. Charles grins and squeezes your hand.
In his driver’s room, your puppy is napping contentedly on a plush dog bed. Charles scoops him up gently so as not to wake him. Cradling the pup, you both head back out to the hospitality suite.
Everyone turns to look at you eagerly as you enter. Carlos steps forward, craning his neck to see the bundle in Charles’ arms.
“Here he is!” You announce proudly. “Our baby boy!”
Charles turns so they can see the sleeping dachshund nestled against his bomber jacket. A shocked silence falls over the room.
“Wha … that’s not a baby!” Carlos splutters. “That’s a dog!”
You and Charles just shrug with matching sly smiles. “He’s our baby.”
As the puppy yawns and stretches in Charles’ arms, licking his chin affectionately, you know with certainty that your furry new addition will be showered with just as much love and adoration as you both share for one another.
Who could ask for anything more?
2K notes · View notes
madamechrissy · 4 months ago
Text
Keep This Low Key
💜 Pairings: Choso x Fem reader- Rating: Explicit- MDNI
💜 Contents/Warnings: Choso isn't super submissive like most stories, but he is a sweetheart and a doll baby! Has a tongue ring for reasons. In this chapter, fingering, cunnilingus, making out, sexual tension, friends w/benefits
💜 Word Count: this chap - 9.4k
💜 Summary: You have been Choso's best friend for years, and one night he has a date with Yuki, his girlfriend, while you have a date with Ino, your boyfriend, only for them both to break up with you at the same time! You all think of calling each other, but run right into each other. Choso brings you home since you didn't even have your car, and you two are crying over a couple beers and a silly movie, only to have a sudden idea.
Why not say fuck dating, fuck heartbreak, and just fuck each other? No drama, no mess, no upset, and you two are such good friends, nothing can go wrong, right? The only agreement is no feelings, and if you all find a s/o, you'll end things. But the moment Choso opens his heart to you, and the moment you start falling, things get messy, as you realize he's the best you've had, and you're falling hard. Will you all stay friends, become more, or will everything blow up?
✨️ Split POV, Mostly Reader but also Choso at the beginning <3 Comments and reblogs appreciated ✨️
💜 Masterlist 💜 Playlist 💜 (still in progress)
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Chapter One
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Choso’s POV
“What do you mean, you don’t want to be with me anymore?” Choso asks that cold fall night, voice breaking as he looks over at Yuki, who is standing in front of that movie theater, the one they had planned to go see tonight, and she’s all dressed up, her blond hair swishing as she shakes her head.
“I’m sorry, Choso, you’re sweet but… there’s someone else I have feelings for, you’re a doll, really, but… I’m interested in him more. I never wanted to hurt you, but this was just something casual to me.” Choso breaks down then, feeling emotions wreck him, his heart thrumming in his chest, blood rushing through his veins.
“But I am falling for you, Yuki. Please.” He takes her hands then, and she sighs, Choso feels his world crumbling. “I thought you felt the same?”
Yuki looks into his violet eyes, frowning. “Fuck I feel like shit for this. But no, Choso for me it was just fun, you’re not my type exactly.”
He blinks his long dark lashes then, full lips setting seriously now at her words. “Not your type?”
“You’re gorgeous, sweet, so soft… I just need someone a little harsher, a little more manly, I’m sorry.”
He scoffs then, raising a dark brow. “Not manly, remember how I had you screaming my name over and over?” His voice is a low whisper, and he watches her reaction to them, but clearly not enough to matter.
“Well, you certainly are good at that.” Her pretty face blushes, her brown eyes looking away, and Choso starts to feel such anger, his heart clutched by her mean hands, he’d been falling for Yuki for some time now. They’d been together six months, that was not nothing and she so casually is tossing it aside.
“What did I do wrong?” He asks, his voice breaking in the middle. She is sighing then, as people walk in and out, arm in arm.
Yuki was the only girl Choso had ever been with, after having pined away for her for all of college, and finally he thought she gave him a chance. He gave all of his attention to her, even not spending time with his best friend, you, who he misses so much, because Yuki was so insecure about you.
He still tried to keep in touch and even bought you coffees and would hand them to you as he walked by your work every morning. You had been his best friend since middle school, he couldn’t not have you in his life. However your boyfriend also seemed insecure about your friendship with Choso, so there was some sad realization from both of you as you smiled so pretty and thanked him every morning.
That you all were so close it intimidated both of your significant others.
Choso had spent countless nights with you on the couch with him, watching movies, throwing popcorn at each other’s mouths to catch. Some nights you’d take his bed, and he’d sleep on the couch, other nights you’d both pass out and wake up awkwardly laughing, perhaps you’d drool, or Choso would snore. But that was all it was, friendship.
There was a time he’d wanted more, and he’d tried to tell you so many times, but you had been enamored with a boy at school, his name was Satoru, some popular white haired jock you had a thing for. You’d been in love with him all of high school in fact, so Choso had eventually let it go, the thought of more, and focused on truly being your friend. And friends only.
Then he’d seen her in Senior year, Yuki, and he’d had it so bad for her, she was so strong and feisty and enamored him. You eventually realized Gojo was not interested in you more than casually, and you had brought up something that he’d stopped, and he wishes he didn’t. He remembers it so clearly.
‘Cho, I have something to confess.’ You’d said softly, as Choso had been waiting for Yuki to come out of her class, so that he could invite her to the last dance of the school year.
‘Hey angel, what is it?’ He’d asked as he smiled at you, so pretty in your school uniform, surely by now you and Gojo were an item he figured, he didn’t know then that Gojo had hurt you.
‘Why haven’t we ever tried to… um, date? Am I not your type?’ You’d asked, looking down nervously at your Mary Janes. Choso’s mouth dropped open, for four years he had dreamed of those words, but now…
Now it felt a little too late, he was so enamored with Yuki, and you were his best, dearest friend in the world, he’d made himself resigned to that. “But you’re in love with Gojo?’
‘I thought I was, but Cho I think-’ Yuki had walked out then, and Chose had ruffled your hair and kissed your head, running after her like a lovesick puppy, just like you had with Gojo for so long.
Choso wished he’d have done that differently, but at that point he’d had feelings for Yuki, so both of you decided to stay friends, forever, no matter what, but what were you going to say? How would that have changed…
And shit, now he needs his best friend, as the girl he’s fallen so hard for so casually breaks his heart. He feels tears drip out the corners of his eyes, brushing them carefully with his thumbs, which have black nail polish chipping just a bit. Yuki sighs, shifting side to side and stepping up to Choso then, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t cry, shit… I could go about this nicer I guess. Choso Kamo, you’re a great guy, you really are, and I had fun. A lot of fun. But I need someone more serious, not in some silly rock band, I’m really sorry.” He glares then, jaw locking, as Choso’s band had certainly been doing very well, and getting much bigger. But Choso also worked his ass and made good money too.
Choso had his own house and had taken care of his little brother Yuji by himself, even putting him in college, when their grandparents who raised them passed away. He was focused on his music more lately now that Yuji was not with him, but he still made sure to have a savings, and lived pretty comfortably in his own place.
“I am serious, you’re giving me excuses about me being the problem, when it’s pretty clear you just… had someone in mind.” His brows draw together, as he brushes his hair back, half up in a bun tonight. Yuki opens her mouth to say something when a car drives right up, and it’s Suguru Geto who rolls his windows down in his silver sports car.
Choso knows Suguru from high school, Satoru Gojo’s best friend, Choso was cool with him but certainly not close. He looks at the two of you, dark eyes darting back and forth, before sinking back in his seat awkwardly. Choso’s violet eyes are wide as he stares at Yuki now, who’s biting her lower lip nervously, a hand on Choso’s shoulder again, gently.
“I’m sorry, Cho.”
“Don’t call me that.” He takes her hand off gently, he wants to smack it off but he can’t treat a lady like that, even if she’s currently awful.
“I’m sorry, man I came early I guess.” Geto says from his car, and Choso scoffs as he looks back at Yuki.
“Really, you’re not just leaving me, you’re leaving me with the man you’ve been hot for since high school?”
“Look, I am sorry. Maybe you can understand?” She says, as Choso blinks rapidly at her audacity, scoffing.
“Ouch.” Suguru says, and Choso is close to punching him, clenching his fists, covered in black rings and tattoos. Suguru was who Yuki had been in love with forever, Choso knew that, but he thought it was long gone. Suguru had moved to run a family business a year or so ago. “I’m sorry, man.”
“I don’t want to hear from you.” Choso says then, through his teeth, as he feels the situation overwhelming him, nothing about the cool night air can chill him, his skin on fire. “Go then, if that’s what you want.”
“Choso, maybe we can be friends one day? I’m so sorry.” She says then, and he laughs, covering his face, shaking his head.
“No. You’ll never be my friend.” He turns and walks away as he has to hear the sound of Suguru’s car zipping off, and her laughter out the window. Just a few days ago she’d been in his arms, he’d made her cum… fuck five times with his mouth alone, and she’d said he was the best she’d had.
How can it change so quickly?
He had a feeling he was further along in his feelings than Yuki, but he didn’t know she clearly didn’t see him as more than ‘fun’. Choso didn’t just do those things for fun, no Yuki was it for him, he’d even been contemplating getting her a promise ring, he’d gone with Yuji to shop around just last week.
He’s glad he couldn’t decide on one.
He is heading back now towards his car, contemplating calling you, fuck he needs you, needs your understanding, how you listen, your advice. You rub his hair back as he lays his head in your lap, and he’d done it for you, when Satoru had broken up with you on prom night, when you’d been such a mess in your pretty dress, and he’d danced all night with you.
When you’d picked Choso up as he’d been a drunk mess from his last girlfriend breaking up with him and took him to your place, and took care of him. He’d woken up and you’d looked so uncomfortable, he’d slept right in your lap, and you’d just sat there on the floor like that, your back on the couch. He’d bought you a massage, he felt so bad, but you’d just smiled.
You were the one who had helped get Yuji into college, his little brother had the biggest crush on you. It was adorable. He was like a lost little puppy after you, and you were so sweet with him, too. Yuji still asks about you, and when he visits he makes sure you’re coming over for dinner, heartbroken you were dating some guy named Ino now, but Choso supposes he’s nice enough.
He’s protective of you.
He wants to call you so bad, but fuck he can’t just put this on you, not when you’re on a date. Not when you all haven’t even seen each other anymore really. How can he be selfish, he doesn’t want you to feel used or feel like he’s put you on some back burner as a friend. He keeps staring at your name, but in his phone it used to be Angel 💜
Before Yuki had changed that one.
Choso leans against his car now outside the theater, where it’s quiet and the cold air is blowing more and more as fall brings in the chill, and he fixes your name right back to Angel 💜 Because why the fuck not. His heart is in pieces as he wishes he could hear your voice or see your smile. Fuck Ino was lucky…
Suddenly he sees a figure, a gorgeous shape on a woman a little bit towards the theater, he sees a nice ass and legs in a teeny dress, as the woman is shivering from the cold, then he hears her… crying. Fuck, is that you crying!? Choso runs back up to the sidewalk across from the theater, where there is a strip of restaurants, and he calls out your name, could it be…
You turn then, and he’s stunned for a moment, his breath caught in his chest as he drinks you in for a quick moment. Choso has never seen you in something like this, a tight little bodycon dress, black with silver chains around the waist, and your perfect breasts are revealed far more than he’s ever seen. He forces his eyes up to your face, then his heart breaks more.
You have mascara streaking down your cheeks, and you’ve eaten your lipstick off, just a red line on your full lips now. You sniffle when you see him, rubbing your arms, covered in goosebumps. Choso snaps himself out of it, taking off his jean jacket quickly, slinging it over narrow shoulders, and pulling you against his chest, feeling how hard you are shaking.
“What happened, angel?” He whispers, and you sob more, clinging to him now, as he buries his head down, bending low, inhaling your shampoo, some fruity scent he always loves. You’re tilting your head back to look up at him, looking so small and helpless in his big jacket, as you clutch his black dress shirt.
“I wanted to… to call you, Cho. But I didn't want to ruin your night.” He blinks then, watching your lip trembling, and he’s brushing your hair back, you’d curled it he notices, fuck you look beautiful even if you were upset. He shouldn’t think that but he can’t help it.
“You can always call me.”
“No, I can’t, Yuki hates me. Messaged me to stay away.” He rolls his eyes now, shaking his head. “It was months ago. I’m sorry I shouldn’t even be in your arms.” You pull back now, and he pulls you against him once more, looking down at you. “Cho, you’ll get yelled at.”
“You’re my best friend, I’ll hug you all I want. But also… fuck.” He takes a breath then. “It’s a long story I guess, but she fucking left me.”
“She what!? Is she stupid you spoiled the fuck out of her, and you’re so sweet, and hot… what!? You’re Choso.” You say then, and he melts, as he hugs you so tight again, and rocks you side to side.
“Fuck that for now, you’re clearly more upset. What happened? Did he… did he hurt you I’ll fucking kill him-”
“No not… he broke up with me too.”
“He what!? Is he a fucking idiot, you’re the perfect girl, so caring, and smart, and just look at you.”
“I’m a mess. Ugh. My feet hurt, Cho.” Choso turns then, and you giggle through your tears. “No way.”
“Hop up now, you don’t weigh shit. I’ll carry you to my car.” You tentatively wrap your thighs around his waist now, your arms around his neck, and he hoists you up, you squeal a bit, you’re so cute he thinks.
He shouldn’t think that, you’re just his friend, but how can he not?
“You’re the best friend, ugh I missed you. I forgot how high up you are here.” You tease, finally smiling against his cheek, before kissing it, and he’s happy you can’t see the pink on his cheeks. “I’m like fifteen pounds heavier than in high school you know.”
He rolls his eyes, you’ve got a perfect body, and have men drooling wherever you go. You’re silly not to see it. “Everyone is fifteen pounds bigger. I think it went to your ass though.”
“Cho!” You’re now laughing as he carries you down, laughing with you. “You saying I got a nice ass?”
Yeah you do, but he’ll keep it to himself for now. “I’m saying you had no ass in high school. Your pants wouldn’t stay up.”
“Neither would yours! You just gained muscle, jerk.” You tease, squeezing a bicep and making his breath catch.
“And you look beautiful, perfect, I promise. Just as beautiful as high school if not more so.” You exhale, he feels it tickling his neck as his hands press into your thighs, feeling the muscles as you squeeze him, and then the plush of your inner thighs where his thumb is pressing in.
Fuck they’re nice. Has he ever really noticed? He used to carry you around but you’d worn jeans typically, you were more casual then, he’s noticed you’ve gotten more dressy and girly with Ino. He then tenses further as you squeeze him tighter, and he feels… he feels your heat against him. He stops at his car now, easing you down, cursing himself with his eyes shut.
Choso just got hard carrying you.
He looks down as you hand him his jacket, seeing that outfit again. “Thank you for saying that, really. But even if I look good, it doesn’t matter. I am not enough for him, apparently.” You’re crying again, and he puts that jacket back on you, shaking his head, tilting your chin up.
“You know better. You’re more than good enough for anyone. Now, my place or yours? We’re far overdue for drinks and a movie session.”
“Can I sleep over at yours?”
Usually that would be so casual, but now suddenly… looking like this, he gets flushed thinking of it. “Um, of course you can. Do you wanna grab clothes?”
“No, I’ll just steal your shit.” You tease, leaning up on your tiptoes in your heels, kissing his cheek again. “I used to do that all the time.”
“I know you have so much of my hoodies, ugh.” You just grin, and he’s so happy to see you smile it melts him further, fuck he almost forgets how upset he is now that you’re here.
“Come get in, then we’ll tell each other what happened, yeah?” He holds the car door open for you, leaning over and seatbelting you in, putting him far too close to where your breasts were pushed up in your dress. He struggles to focus and find the clip of the belt, his breath against your skin, and he watches your nipples stick out under the thin material.
Fuck.
“I can do it, silly.” You tease softly, but he hears your voice is breathy, and he finally finds the clip, before sitting next to you and revving up his car, his black Mustang he’d had for years. You stretch a bit, showing too much leg when you put them on his dash, taking off your heels. “Do you mind?”
“No, of course, take em off. Never seen you in heels like that.” He tries not to focus on the fact that even your ankles and feet are pretty, let alone your calves and thighs. Fuck you have nice legs, and he shouldn’t be thinking that, so he struggles to think of the night instead. Of you being hurt, of him being hurt. Of what exactly happened so quickly.
“You’re a lifesaver, I swear.” You sigh then, leaning back, snuggling against his jacket and smiling prettily at him. He swipes some of your mascara off your cheeks when you hit a red light.
“So, you wanna tell me what happened?” He asks softly, you nod a little bit, biting your lower lip.
“Yeah, I’ll tell you, it’s embarrassing though…”
“You can tell me anything, remember?”
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Your POV
Earlier that night
“You’re breaking up with me!?” You’d demanded then, as your boyfriend winces, you all are at dinner and everyone clearly hears you, people whispering, furthering your hurt and embarrassment.
You had been dating Ino for over six months now, that wasn’t nothing. And recently you both had gotten physical, too, something completely new to you, even at age twenty three. Ino had been your first, and you thought it…
“Did it mean nothing?” You whisper furiously, his brows draw together, and his eyes close. “My first time, you knew that. Why do it if-”
“I have feelings for you, you’re so beautiful and sweet. I swear it’s nothing you did, okay?” He touches your hand and you glare, smacking it off.
“It’s not you, it’s me? You’re saying that fucking line, Ino!?”
“Will you calm down-”
You stand then, scoffing. “Calm down, fuck no. We just did that, you just took it and now you- was I that bad?”
He stands, taking your shoulders and leading you out front, into the freezing night air, and you’re shivering. He takes off his jacket and you throw it on the ground, glaring as he sighs, his head falling back. “You are great, I swear. It’s not the physical, it’s more… you’re so immature.”
You scoff now. “Me, immature? You can’t even do anything without trying to please your family, I do shit on my own.”
“Or with your friend?”
You scowl now. “Don’t you bring up Cho, it’s not like I’ve hung out with him one fucking bit. Because you’re so insecure. And he’s a far better man than you! He wouldn’t leave someone after… that.”
“Listen I know it was important to you, I just have to tell you, there’s someone else in my heart.” You gasp now, stepping back. “She’s been in my heart, and now she’s finally agreed to date me.”
“So I was a fucking placeholder? Could you not have fucked me then, because it really wasn’t shit.” He stumbles back now, glaring down at you. “Could have fucked someone much better.”
“You seemed to like it-”
“I faked it. You can’t make girls cum with no foreplay, fucking idiot.”
“I fingered you-”
“For two minutes. Yeah then you went like two minutes. No I didn’t cum, fucking idiot. But I was okay with that, we could like learn from each other. I thought our relationship was doing so well, I thought I was falling for you.” You feel your tears threaten now, and Ino sighs, holding your shoulders gently.
“You’re a beautiful, smart girl, and successful. You’ll have whoever you want.”
“But I was with you. Because I wanted to be. What did I do to fuck it up, will you just tell me?”
“You fucked nothing up. It’s just… shit.” His phone rings then, and you see a name on the caller ID, Ino’s ex. You glare now. “It’s not what you think.”
“Tell me you didn’t fuck her while you fucked me.”
“I didn’t, plus me and you used condoms.”
“And!? The point!?”
“Jesus, you’re so dramatic. She’s much easier.”
“Easier!” You shove him then, turning and stomping away, and Ino chases you, grabbing your wrists. “Fuck off.”
“Let me take you home, it’s freezing and you’re in heels. You can’t just walk, please I know I hurt you, but I can’t let you just walk alone in the night.” You glare through your tears back at him, and watch him gulp, as he takes breaths, cupping your face tenderly, but it’s disgusting to you. “You looked so perfect tonight, I’m so sorry I hurt you. I know you were excited.”
“Why ask me on a date to break up with me?” You ask, choking on your sobs, fuck you thought he was the sweetest, the relationship had consisted of him doing everything for you, he was kind and caring and gentle. And he’d said he was falling in love with you.
You waited five months to sleep with him, you were a virgin (thanks to pining away for popular Satoru Gojo most of your school life) and then after so long of being one, you’d figured you would wait. The only man who you’d thought of sleeping with was your best friend, Choso, not that you’d ever let him know, or anyone know, you’d shoved that down.
And fuck you want to see him, you miss him so much, since you both had quit hanging out, his girlfriend hates you, and Ino doesn’t like Choso. So you’d stopped talking, aside from Cho sweetly bringing you a coffee every morning at work, smiling down at you with his gorgeous grin, always decked out in some goth outfit that fit him like a glove.
You still watched his rock shows from the back, he didn’t notice you, but even if they both didn’t like you as friends, you’d made a promise in middle school to be friends forever. A pinky promise at that, and both you and Cho quietly kept that, even if he didn’t know that you were there, supporting him.
Long ago you’d hoped for a chance, but you’d been so blinded by a Satoru Gojo infatuation you think you let his opportunity slip, and then you decided you’d be his friend, and his friend only. And how you need him now, to hold you while you cry, to listen to you, to stroke your cheek with his tattooed hands, covered in that dark polish you used to paint for him.
You miss him, you miss your friend.
Ino is still talking, and leaning down, almost as if to kiss you, and you smack his face, making his mouth drop open. “What’s that for?”
“What are you doing?” You demand angrily, the cold night air doesn’t serve to cool you down, your skin is on fire.
“Kissing you goodbye.”
You laugh then, through your tears. “Oh hell no. Fuck off, and never talk to me, ever again.”
“We could be friends? I really do care for you.”
“I will never be your friend. Ever. Now let me go.” He does then, but as you try to walk away he’s following you. “Go!”
“Let me pay the bill and I’ll drive you. Or let me get you a ride, please, it’s not okay to let you go like this.” You roll your eyes at him, stomping away now.
“My life is none of your concern now. I’ll walk.”
You want to call Choso so damn bad, fuck… but you know he’s with Yuki, shit he was thinking of serious things with her, he’d been in love with her so long. You could not ruin that for him, or bring your problems to him, you all could not have that relationship anymore, you couldn’t be that close.
You’re sobbing as you look at his name in your phone, it was Cho Bear 💜 But Ino had gotten mad, so you’d just changed it to Choso. As you walk down this long street, your tears falling and freezing your cheeks, you change it then, smiling just a bit, back to Cho Bear 💜 Because, fuck Ino.
Then you keep walking, as it all starts to hit you, that Ino had taken your virginity, and fuck you made him wait so long you did not think he just wanted to fuck, no he wanted a relationship and you weren’t good enough, even though you tried to give him your everything. You were some placeholder for him until his ex-girlfriend took him back, it was all some time waster to him.
Sex the couple times you all did it was truly not good, it didn’t hurt or anything and he was gentle, but you didn’t get pleasure. You’d had to rub your clit to feel anything and then it was too quick for you to cum, having to bust out a rose toy later on each time, it was about four times you all had fucked. You assumed it would get better but it never did.
So you kind of turned him down a bit, and maybe that is why he didn’t want you, but you were still a good partner, you tried to just get him off instead though, because you wondered if something was wrong with you. Now you wonder if something was just wrong with him.
Not that you ever want a damn boyfriend again, but you wouldn’t mind actually fucking, it seems so wasted all these years, you’re twenty three and the last damn virgin you knew, aside from Cho, but you’re sure he fucked Yuki by now. And you’re sure that man can fuck something about those big ass hands and long fingers…
You shouldn’t think of him like that
He’s only your friend, and barely that now.
Your feet are aching as you near a movie theater, where you and Ino had your first date, and you break down then, on the sidewalk, shivering and holding yourself as sobs wrack your body. You’re so mad, so upset, you can barely stand it, shivering in the night and your feet want to die. You need to order a ride, but you’re shaking so bad it’s hard to hold your phone.
Suddenly, you hear it, your name, and it’s…
Is that Choso!?
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Now you are sitting on Choso’s black leather couch in his living room, one of his shirts swallowing you. He’s huge, buff and muscular, and way taller than almost any guy you knew, his shirt hits your knees and he chuckles when he sees you in it. You’d washed your face, thankfully Choso kept your things under his sink still, fresh faced, eyes puffy, your hair in a bun with one of his pony tails.
His violet eyes light up when you all talk, past the horrible moments of both of your nights, and now you all are watching one of his dumb horror flicks, with the stupidest fake blood there was. You’re both sipping on ice cold beers, throwing your heads back with laughter, it feels so good, so comfortable you think, to relax, to be yourself.
You’d definitely tried to live up to Ino’s expectations, to what his ex was like, so put together and perfect, but with Choso you could be yourself, bare faced in a big Nirvana shirt. Choso wraps his arm around you then, and he’s bare chested, just his black sweats on, and you try to ignore how good his skin feels against yours, how good he smells, how good he feels altogether.
Choso was so handsome, tattoos across his ribs, bands of more tattoos on his shoulders, a partial sleeve on one arm that goes down to his hands. Big hands, one touching your waist, taking it over completely, your shirt scrunching as he’s laughing at a part of the movie. Your body reacts violently, more so than when he’d leaned across you to seat belt you in.
You can’t ruin this, you can’t.
But he’s got you wet just leaning close and laughing, grabbing the popcorn bowl and standing then, as your eyes drink in his body, the firm well formed pecs and flat brown nipples, his rippling abdomen. Your eyes dip to his dark trail of hair below his belly button, throat going dry, and why when you’ve seen him plenty over the years, you have always known he’s hot.
“Want another one, angel?” He asks, and the name makes you blush for some reason, as you nod shyly, fiddling with the edge of his shirt on your thighs.
“Yes, please. Thank you!” He saunters to his kitchen, bending down and you see the strong muscles of his back when he stands. He swipes his hair back as he hands you another, it’s loose and hits his collarbone, as he smiles softly at you, sitting back next to you again. “Damn Cho Bear, working out?”
“That nickname, shit it’s been a minute.” He sips on his beer, leaning back on the couch now, and you watch his Adam's apple bop up and down under a little bit of stubble that’s grown. “You look like you’re working out too.”
“Mmm, just a couple times a week, nothing like you. I only do the treadmill and read my books on the phone.” He laughs then.
“Reading porn while getting in steps?”
“Hey!” You shove at him a bit, then he sets both of your beers on his little glass table, tickling you now. You’re gasping for breath, twisting and turning as he’s grinning over you, fingers tickling your waist. “Stop, stop shit!”
“You’re so cute though. At my mercy.” He sticks out his tongue as he tickles you, and your eyes find his tongue ring fascinating for far too many reasons, as you overheat, and you realize he’s between your thighs. You tense now, since you didn’t even have on anything but crotchless panties you’d worn tonight, and he’s brushing against you.
He pauses then as well, looking down your body, hands gripping your waist gently, thumbs pressing into your rib cage, as he looks right at your breasts, visible under his shirt, the outline of them. He gulps and looks down further, to where his shirt had rode up your thighs, up to your hips, exposing black lace panties, that covered goddamn nothing.
He just stays there over you, his breath caught like yours, hands trembling now as he exhales, eyes looking back up at yours, his pupils so dilated, his pretty eyes look black, his eyes lidded and heavy suddenly. You arch your hips up just slightly, and he lets out a soft moan from the back of his throat as he looks there, as he sees you, a hand moving to press on your tummy.
“Cho, I’m not um… I’m wearing…”
“He didn’t fucking deserve to see that.” He whispers then, and your breaths come even quicker, as you’re slowly reaching a hand up to his chest, feeling his hot skin under your palm.
“He was my first.” You say softly, and he grimaces, shutting his eyes then.
“I’m looking at you like this, when you just… fuck I should be a better friend, I’m so sorry-” He leans back but you pause him, hands firm on his biceps now.
“I don’t mind. He was my first and I didn’t cum, like not once? I don’t know if he sucked or if I sucked. But it was pretty new, only a few times before he left.”
“Shit, I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve that. I know you wanted it special.” He says softly, leaning down, still over you, his hair falling softly on your skin, you brush it back, mind whirling.
“It’s okay, I know you are hurt too. Um, did you like sex though?” He is blushing now, looking away for a moment, nodding. “I guess I was turning him down and just getting him off because I didn’t. It’s kind of awful of me. Maybe-”
“It was that bad? Shit. Like he hurt you?” You shake your head. “Was he selfish? Not enough foreplay?”
“You seem so experienced now, we were the last virgins in Japan.” You tease with a smile, and he leans on an elbow now, laying on his side, a hand stroking your thigh before he stops himself, cursing. “It’s okay, I like it.”
“Are you sure?” You nod nervously, as he brushes his fingers up and down your thigh, and you whimper before you can stop, covering your mouth embarrassingly, as his lips part. “Fuck you’re sexy. Shit, I’m sorry.”
“No… um… Cho…” You lean up on your elbows then, bringing his attention back to your breasts, now outlined so well, he has to clear his throat, as his hand still rests on your thigh, above your knee. “Have you ever thought of fucking me?”
“Have I what!?” He sits up then, covering his face, and you panic, turning away and covering yours.
“Oh my god I’m so stupid, of course you haven’t, Yuki was your love, and I look nothing like her. And-”
He pauses you then, hands on your shoulders, and you can’t bear to look at him. “No, no, you’re beautiful, of course I have, I just got embarrassed, like you knew I have or something.”
“Y-you find me attractive?” You ask, not looking at him still, he has to tilt your head to him, sighing.
“Of course I do, I always have. There was a good three years of pining for you in high school, and you’ve just gotten hotter. But I never wanted to lose our friendship.”
You take a breath now, turning and looking up at him, a hand trailing down his abdomen, watching it flex under your touch. “So, what if we have sex, like maybe you can teach me things? And just sex, nothing else. No strings attached.”
“I’m in a dream.” You laugh softly, shaking your head. “I am, you’re in this shirt, looking so beautiful, asking me to fuck you?”
“Well, yes. I wanna get off and enjoy it. Also I don’t ever wanna date again, at least not any time soon. I imagine you don’t either.”
“Oh fuck no I don’t wanna date. I don’t think I can take that pain again.” You cup his face gently, and he kisses your palm, as you feel your pussy clench around nothing at just thinking of it. “You sure you wanna do this? You’re so new to sex.”
“You are too, though you seem to have had a better time.” You say with a giggle, and he tilts his head to the side.
“Did he not prep you at all?”
“Um, he fingered me for a minute. But I was really dry, and it’s not dry when I play with myself.” Choso’s bright red now, his eyes bugging out. “Shit, TMI?”
“I mean…” He clears his throat, looking up at the ceiling for a moment, then back at you. “No, if we do this I think we should be so honest, we’re best friends we can really do that.”
“Exactly! Give each other instruction, on our bodies. Right, and I’m comfortable with you, you’d never hurt me.” You say with a soft smile, as you scooch closer, and you hear his breath catch, his hands trembling a bit as you take one, putting it on your chest, where your heart races. “Just sex, and no feelings. Any other rules?”
“Yes, if you find someone else, please tell me.”
“Of course, and same with you! Honesty all around.”
“Pinky swear?” He holds one out, and you giggle, nodding, wrapping your finger with his, then you’re both sitting there, his other hand still on your chest. “Did he not eat you out?”
It’s your turn to blush. “No, he licked it for a second before the first time, but I am not sure it counts.”
“And no one has?” You shake your head again, and now his hands slide down your body, pressing into your hips, he watches you gasp, your head leaning back, eyes fluttering shut. Your body has never felt like this, never responded this way. “So I have a request then, for us to do this.”
“Of course, anything you want, Cho Bear.” Anything for him to keep touching you, fuck he’s leaning down now, and you can’t take it, seeing sweet Cho Bear so sexy. You knew it was there, but you’d never seen it.
“Let me pleasure you only tonight, then we’ll do more if you really like it.”
“But I wanna do things too!” You pout, and he smiles, leaning even closer, his lips a breath away, noses touching.
“You can next time. I wanna see how many times I can make you cum, as a friend you know.” He whispers against your ear, Choso Kamo, Cho Bear, your sweet little best friend…
Fuck he’s grown up, huh?
And fuck he’s turning you on breathing against your cheek more than Ino did touching you, fucking you. Your body eagerly reacts, to the point it’s ridiculous, but you nod then, shyly. He chuckles a bit, as he picks you up suddenly, and he’s carrying you like you’re nothing, so strong and big, to his room, all goth and decked out in music posters, his guitars lined on his wall.
He lays you down on the center of his bed, with dark red blankets, fingering the hem of your shirt. “Are you comfy taking it off? I really would love to see you, but not if you’re nervous.”
He’s so goddamn sweet you think, how dare Yuki be such a bitch to your best friend, you think. You nod nervously, raising his shirt over your head now, baring yourself to him for the first time, and you can’t meet his pretty eyes. You hear him moan softly, and your eyes look at him, where he’s staring at you hungrily, running a hand through his hair.
���Fuck you’re so pretty. So perfect I… fuck.” He leans over you again, the bed springs creaking under his weight, and your nipples press against his chest. “Is it cool if we kiss first? Is it too romantic?”
“I’d like to kiss you.” You respond, and he moans again, that sound makes you even wetter, as he’s kissing you for the first time, and you melt at it, at his sweet firm lips, so gently brushing yours. He gently does it again, and again, as your tongue darts between his lips, craving more. He cups your face, pulling back.
“You’re so beautiful.” You get emotional suddenly, after the horrible rejection, this sexy ass best friend of yours, who you love so much, makes you feel so seen and so noticed. “Is that cool to say?”
“Yes, it’s good with me. Thank you Cho, you’re handsome, so handsome.” He’s blushing again, so cute you think, kissing you softly, before he’s between your thighs, and now kissing a trail down your throat. “Ah!”
“You taste sweet.” He says against your skin. “I talk alot, um if it’s annoying tell me to-”
“Choso, no I love it. You couldn’t - ah- annoy me, oh! Mmm!” He’s sucking on a nipple now, looking up under those long black lashes, as you feel the cool ball of his tongue ring on your nipple. You’re getting so wet, and gasp when he finds your clit, swirling with his thumb, and he pulls back, eyes seductive as he looks down at you.
“You’re so wet, fuck that’s sexy.” He murmurs, fingering the sticky mess, and you’re shifting your thighs for more, whining out. “And those sounds you make, oh my god.”
“Cho… please, touch me more?” You ask, and he nods eagerly, slipping a thick finger inside your eager entrance, and you’re crying out just from that, as he presses up and hits some spot that makes you gasp, seeing stars. “Cho, what!?”
“Your G spot, pretty. It’s - ah- there, mmm.” He’s leaning lower, kissing your tummy as he keeps pressing, now pumping his finger in and out, and you’re dripping down all Choso’s black rings, so wet you hear yourself, your hands now clutching the blankets tightly. “Look at you, you’re so perfect, perfect pussy.”
“Cho!” You don’t expect this, him talking so dirty, when you’ve known Choso as this sweet, innocent thing. But fuck he’s hot, as he’s sinking two fingers now, and you wince just a bit at the stretch.
“So tiny, want just one?” He asks, but you shake your head.
“I can take two.” You whisper, earning his smirk, it’s not a sweet Cho Bear smile, it’s seductive and sure, as he shoves two fingers in, and you scream out, as he’s kissing your soft tummy, then lower, and you feel yourself closer and closer to the edge. “Oh my… s’good I…”
“Two of my fingers aren't like normal, are they angel?” He whispers, and you shake your head in agreement.
“Thick.”
“Mmm, why don’t you cum on my fingers first, let me feel you pulsing.”
“Pulsing- wh- what- ah! Fuck!” You scream out then, feeling so intense you can’t take it, overwhelmed as he’s scissoring his two thick fingers, looking at you hungrily, and then he rubs his thumb on your clit, making you shatter. You cum all over his fingers, soaking his entire hand, as your orgasm washes over you. “Oh my god fuckfuckfuck!”
He’s moaning then, leaning up and kissing you, exhaling his sweet breath against your lips as you’re trembling violently, eyes rolled back when he slips his fingers out, still pulsing out wetness. He sucks you off his fingers then, moaning and rolling his violet eyes back, his strong cheekbones more pronounced as his cheeks hollow. Your mouth drops open at how sexy he looks, as your pussy aches.
“So yummy, I knew it.” He whispers, kissing you again, and you taste yourself, heating up more as he’s pressed between your thighs, you feel how hard he is under his sweats, and fuck he feels huge, too. You grind up and he pauses you, inhaling sharply. “Fuck don’t do that.”
“S-sorry, oh my god what was that!?” He grins then, sliding down until his face is between your thighs, and he’s spreading your lips apart, staring right at you. Your thighs close but he stops them. “Cho…”
“That was a warm up. Are you ready for me to taste you?” He asks, constantly asking permission, which touches you, and you nod then, so nervous. “Good, you’re a good girl, aren’t you?”
“A good girl Choso you’re a freak now? Oh my, ah! Mnh!” Now he’s sliding his tongue up your slit, and you’re jerking, hips bucking up, as he’s spreading your thighs wide with his big hands, pressing into the plush of your thighs, and sliding his tongue up to your clit now, which twitches under his tongue ring. “Choso Kamo! Choso you’re… that tongue ring!? What the fuck, holding out on a friend.”
He laughs against you, breath tickling you, taking one of your hands then, putting it on his head. “I’ll make up for it and get my best friend off so much she’ll pass out if she pulls my hair.”
“Pull it? Like this?” You pull gently, and his eyes flutter shut, white teeth biting a lower lip. “You sure, it’s okay?”
“I want you to put me there please?” He asks softly, eyes big, pouting all cute, making you giggle. “Put me where you want me, and fuck my face till you cum.”
“I don’t know where!”
“I’ll lick, and you pull my hair and press my face into that spot you like, sounds good?” You nervously nod, and then his tongue is fucking devouring you, you hear the sounds of him drinking you in the night, completely lewd, the squishing obscene, and you’re a mess, screaming out as he hits your clit again.
“There, please! Is it really okay-” He nods, moaning, and you’re yanking on his hair, shoving him against your pussy, as your thighs are on either side of his handsome face. He’s moaning as you do, grinding against the bed, flicking his tongue so fast you cum even harder than his fingers, and his tongue ring is flicking on your clit now, the sensation making you gush out.
You’re so overwhelmed as your toes curl, as your eyes roll back, and you’re grinding your hips against his face, and he’s sliding his hands to your ass, gripping the fat of it and yanking you closer, burying his face further, sucking your clit into his mouth, and making you fall apart again. Your hands are enwrapped in his silken hair, as his eyes look up at you then.
Your heart falters in your chest then, as he’s sucking on your clit, vibrating it with his moans, and your orgasm washes over you in waves, you stop pulling his hair, instead you’re gently holding his face as your hips roll back, overstimulated now. He takes a breath as he watches you, finally leaning up, the lower half of his face covered in your slick.
You’re a twitching mess, tears in your eyes when he licks his lips, smiling up at you now. “You all right, Angel, too much?”
“It’s a lot but holy fuck. It’s amazing.” You say softly, earning his grin brightening his face, as your emo best friend lights up, between your thighs. “How do you breathe like that!?”
He chuckles. “It’s a talent. Do I really have to stop, I wanna get you off more.” He pouts again, and you’re barely able to stand when he kisses your pussy again, he’s so good you’re just infuriated Yuki got this, that anyone did, it’s that good.
“I’m so sensitive- mmm!”
“Good, one more for me could you please? You’re so yummy, please.” You giggle then, breathless, your body on fire at how good you feel.
“Oh god, I mean a little more. You’re way too good at this, I’ve never even gotten myself off that good.”
“How do you get yourself off?” You blush even as he’s kissing the lips of your pussy.
“Um, rose toy. But that tongue ring of yours? Hits so much better.” He’s kissing your pussy over and over, sliding his finger back in, you’re so soaked it’s stupid, a mess under your best friend, and his eyes crinkle just a bit as he smiles up at you.
“You look so sexy when you cum.” You’re covering your face nervously, and he laughs softly, pulling them down by the wrists. “You do.”
“You don’t have to say all that.”
“I mean it. I would never say what I don’t mean.” You get emotional again, you don’t know if it’s the night, or how hard you’ve released all that tension built up, or if it’s… if it’s Choso, looking at you like that.
Friend, friend, friend.
Right?
You can keep it casual, if anyone can it’s you and Choso.
Right?
“Only if you want more, of course.”
“Oh, I might pass out. But yes, please.” Choso smiles again, and dives back down, now he’s using his finger and hitting your spot, and lavishing your clit with his tongue, as his free hand slips up and squishes a breast in his big hand, and you’re gasping for breath as all of your senses focus on pleasure, fading out your vision, your grip of reality.
Fuck you’re not mad he ate Yuki out, you’re furious Choso ever ate anyone out but you, and you’re so mad you had been just missing this for all these years. He’s so good you wanna confess love from just how he’s flicking his tongue back and forth, how he’s pinching your nipples, and you’re clinging to his wrist now, bringing a finger to your lips, sucking on them.
He’s moaning, fingering you and lifting his mouth up as you do, as you stroke your mouth up and down, swirling your tongue, and his violet eyes glint in the night, his soft sounds from his throat making you wonder how he sounds when he cums. How he looks when he busts, how he tastes, as you suck on thick fingers, and Choso flicks his tongue one more time, and you scream around them.
You’re barely able to focus as he slides up you, and you’re crying out, as he settles between them, watching you with hungry eyes, as you pull back with a pop, blushing. “It seemed hot to do?”
“So fucking hot, shit.” He whispers, kissing you over and over now. “Are you okay angel?”
“Yes I’m better than okay, I’ve never felt like this. I should have asked for this sooner.”
“Well, we both were lovesick. Weren’t we?” He’s laying on his side, propped up on an elbow, rubbing his hand up and down your hips and waist as you turn to your side too.
“We were, and I’m done, Cho, I’m so done with relationships. I think this could be perfect, and we don’t have to change.”
“You really did change, I noticed. Not that I don’t like you dressing girly, but it’s a little different than I’m used to.”
“I know you also were trying to be so much more… serious?”
“She said not manly enough.”
“You’re manly as fuck. You’re just also sweet, and open. You don’t care about society shit, fucking love that about you. Don’t you dare change, not when you get a girl again. Promise?”
“You promise too, you’re so perfect. And if I can say…” He leans close now, and you feel yourself react, every inch of your skin sensitive. “You have the yummiest, prettiest pussy ever.”
“Oh stop! Flattering me huh?”
“No, it’s true. You do. He’s so stupid.”
“She’s so stupid.”
“Can I kiss you after or should we keep it to… like a prelude to playing? I really like kissing you.” You feel your heart stop, because every time you kiss Choso, you feel something you never have. You don’t know if it’s desire, chemistry… it’s dangerous but when he asks like that? When you want it too?
“You can, I like it alot too. But… let’s just make sure we um keep it around sex I guess? Before or after?”
“That works for me.” He kisses you softly, brushing your hair back, until it gets more heated, and your teeth are clicking, tongues wrapping, dripping saliva between you both. You’re moaning softly, and he’s gripping you so tight, your hand slides down his stomach, but he stops it.
“Cho, lemme suck you. I kind of know how!”
“Well that’s one thing I didn’t do.”
“What!? How did she not?”
“I asked you the same.” You roll your eyes.
“Did we have shitty lovers?”
He laughs softly. “Selfish ones. You can try that tomorrow, just let me have a night where it’s about you.”
His words and how he says them touch you so deeply you can’t help but have tears fall, and he frowns in concern as he brushes them away.
“Am I too much, I know I can be-”
“You’re perfect, it was just sweet is all. I’m tired and buzzed, and just came so much I think I’m fucked up.” He’s kissing your forehead now, nodding as he helps you sit up now. “I should probably sleep, I’m still emotional, I think.”
“Do you want the bed?” He asks, grabbing your shirt and sliding it over your body slowly. Him dressing you feels almost as intimate as undressing. He sits next to you on the bed, tilting his head, and you try to remember it, friends, friends, friends.
Best friend ever, best mouth ever.
But, best friends.
“We could cuddle or is that weird?” He brings it up then, and you contemplate it for a moment.
“Cuddle buddies huh?”
“I’m such a good cuddler.”
“Okay, we can try but I get hot at night. And kick all the blankets. And roll in circles. And-”
“Are you trying to talk me out of it?”
“No!”
“Uh huh. We can sleep separately, maybe it’s too weird?”
“Yeah maybe. Maybe just in the same bed?”
“Sure, sounds good to me. Let me get you some water.” He comes back with a glass of ice water, and you sip greedily, sighing.
“You’re the best friend ever, Choso Kamo.” He’s grinning as he lays next to you, popping a big body pillow between you, wrapping his arms and legs, and fuck you want to be that pillow, but you worry it would make things so complicated.
“You’re the best friend, fuck I thought I’d be a wreck tonight. Thank you.” He says softly, brushing a thumb down your cheek.
“Thank you! For… well shit a lot. I’m so mad I’ve missed out on this mouth this long, I think I’ll be mad when I can’t get it.” He blushes again, as you hold the hand on your cheek now.
“I don’t think I’ll date any time soon, so don’t worry.”
“Same. And I have a favor to return in the morning.”
“I can’t say I’m not stupidly excited. I hurt.”
“Cho, I can do it now!”
“You go to sleep. I told you, I want it about you.” He yawns then, covering his mouth and then shutting his eyes, and you admire his perfect features for a moment, brushing his hair back and he practically purrs, making you smile.
It takes a long time to sleep, tossing and turning a bit, as the thoughts of Ino have faded to goddamn near nothing, and you’re sleeping next to your best friend, thinking how sweet it would be in his arms. This was your idea, and was it insane, could you all truly do this? You think it’s worth finding out.
You sleep finally when Choso has thrown his body pillow and snuggled against you, kissing your cheek. You giggle as you snuggle into his warm embrace, feeling so comfortable suddenly. “You look like you need cuddles.”
“I guess I do. Good night, best friend. Little Cho Bear.” You tease softly, and he smiles against your neck, snuggling under the blankets he’s thrown over you both.
“Good night, Angel.”
Angel, why does the name make your pulse race?
You can’t wonder too long, as sleep drifts you off in his arms.
Surely it won’t be too complicated, right?
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(Taglist open- excited to hear what ya'll think, this was a long one!)
Chapter Two is here!
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totheblood · 1 year ago
Text
cutty love.
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pairing: ellie williams x reader
summary: ellie becomes your best friend and you stumble upon her journal
warnings: this is purely fluff, cursing, suggestive themes maybe once? idk very soft
a/n: this is because i want bff ellie and also domestic ellie and also wanted to put eleven labs to the test with their new features so please... enjoy! AI AUDIOS SPREAD THROUGHOUT THE FIC also reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses
wc: 2.2k
"all my dreams my dear they are of you."
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spring came fast to jackson.
dew painted the grass on early mornings and little patches of snow began to melt into the soil. winter was finally over and you were finally back on farming duty. however, you weren’t as excited as you thought you would be.
patrol was something you would have dreaded a year ago, the idea of entering the outside world terrifying you completely. but as winter came around, and farming became obsolete, maria had warned you you needed to sign up for a new task. your dumbass, however, signed up too late and both stable and kitchen work were all filled up. patrol became your only option. 
on your first day of patrol, you were assigned with dina. she basically held your hand through it: walking into buildings first, showing you how to aim and shoot your gun, and teaching you all the best places to hide. it was an easy day with one encounter with an infected (who dina shot on sight).
your second day you were paired with jesse, who was, to your surprise, gentler. he made jokes when he could tell you were getting scared, always walked with his hand outstretched in front of you when walking into new territory, and taught you how to make a molotov cocktail.  you felt safe with them.
on your third day, you were paired with ellie who was less than kind at first. upon seeing you she rolled her eyes and scoffed, mumbling something like, “why do i always have to be paired with the newbies?” 
to avoid confrontation you simply kept your mouth shut. you were supposed to be partners and you were going to do your best to keep yourself alive. like the others, ellie walked into spaces first and after clearing the area for any infected, started a small fire in the lookout to keep the two of you warm.
you stood at a distance from her where she was placing her palms just above the fire and then rubbing them together for warmth. you watched on with a shiver, shaking as you looked out the window.
“you’re not going to get warm from all the way over there,” ellie spoke up, causing you to snap your head in her direction.
“what?”
“the fire is over here. you have to stand close to get at least a little warm,” she commented, beckoning you over with the wave of her hand, “here, come get warm.”
“oh,” you stepped closer to the fire, sitting down across from her, bathing in the warmth the fire offered.
“you’re not really talkative, huh?” ellie chuckled, taking picking at her nails as she spoke.
“uh, no, i usually am,” you laughed nervously, looking to the raised skin around her nailbeds.
“oh, so you just don’t like me?” her tone was joking, but there seemed to be an ounce of vulnerability to it. her eyes looked up to yours, scanning your face for a reaction.
“no, i just,” you took a deep breath and shrugged, “earlier you said you didn’t want to be stuck with the newbie so i didn’t want to be a bother or anything.”
“shit,” she breathed, pinching the bridge of her nose. all of the skin around her nails were raw and red, “i’m such an asshole. i didn’t mean it like that. i’ve just had a shitty week.”
“no, it’s fine,” you forced a smile, “i understand. i’m just nervous and this is all new to me.”
she paused for a moment, looking you over and taking another deep sigh. 
“i’m not usually an asshole.”
“sure.”
“no, seriously, i’m usually nice.”
“i believe you.”
“ok, i’m kind of nice, but i’m doing my best.”
“it’s fine, i’m also an asshole,” you spit out and she laughed. a full chested laugh that went on for what felt like a minute. it was the kind of laugh were all of her teeth showed and wrinkles formed by her eyes. it made your chest feel warm. 
from that moment on you and ellie became close friends. if you knew you were patrolling with her you would bring her a corn muffin wrapped in fabric. she’d say something about how good of a cook you were or mumble a ‘fuck yeah’ before stuffing half the muffin in her mouth. if she killed any infected later she would say something like, “that was only for the muffin. you’re gonna need to bring me another before i do any more of your dirty work.”
occasionally, she would bring her guitar and show you some of the music she was writing in any downtime you had. she was always so excited too, saying something along the lines of: “let’s try to clear this area as fast as we can so i can show you my new stuff.”
when you sat in front of her, legs crossed in front of you, you watched as a bright blush spread across her face before she sang. 
“this is new, so take it easy on me, okay?”
at some point towards the end of december she came to your house with something wrapped in fabric. her whole face was red, but you couldn’t tell if it was from the snow or her nervousness as she shoved the present into your hand.
“what’s this?” you asked, eyes wide ushering her in from the snow and shutting the door behind you.
“it’s a christmas gift,” she smiled, “i don’t know if you know what christmas is but people used to celebrate it back in the old days. joel told me about it and now we celebrate it every year. it’s basically just a holiday where you give your loved ones… or friends a present. they used to pretend this big fat guy with a beard came down people's chimneys and gave presents to kids who were good but i guess they gave up that idea. santa probably got infected or some shit. anyways, this is for you.”
when you peeled back the fabric, a picture of you sketched out on charcoal was on a piece of thick paper. you looked beautiful. it almost looked as if ellie had spent hours looking at your face and studying all the tiny details of it. not to your knowledge, but she had. 
a gasp fell from your lips as tears welled up in your eyes. you didn’t even have time to thank ellie before you were squeezing her tightly in your arms, causing her to cough. you were literally hugging her so tight she couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t mind it. she took a deep breath and hugged you back, smelling the pine on your hair and skin. 
“i love it, ellie,” you whispered, “thank you.”
when january came around, ellie decided you didn’t know how to hold a gun. most of your shots were misses and the drawback made you stumble back. you were becoming a liability, but mostly ellie feared for your safety. all it took was one fall and you would never be the same again.
so here ellie stood giving verbal directions on how to hold a gun. you, however, were a mess who didn’t know your left from your right.
“your left foot! i said your left foot!”
“this is my left foot!”
“babe, that’s your right.”
“oh,” you switched legs but it wasn’t good enough. ellie came up behind you, placing her hands on your shoulder and fixing your posture. the heat from where her hands were on you radatied throughout your body and went straight down your legs. she stepped closer, placing a hand on your stomach and pressing it lightly. your breath hitched. 
“okay, now move your hand like this,” her free hand moved from the base of your arm to your fingertips. she adjusted your stance slowly. slow enough for it to feel like foreplay, “just like that. yeah, good girl.”
you could feel her breath on your neck where your scarf didn’t cover. it was all too sensual and then SNAP. a sound in the distance made her jump back and step in front of you, her own gun drawn in a matter of seconds.
your gun stance was never revisited after that. 
but now it was spring, and you would no longer be on patrol. as much as you liked spending time with ellie, it was still too much of a risk for you to take when you enjoyed farming so much. when you told ellie a big pout broke out on her face as she dramatically reached for you. 
“what am i going to do without you on patrol?” she whined, squeezing you so hard it made you laugh.
“we can still hang out,” you reminded her, pushing her off you, “plus maybe i’ll be back on patrol next winter.”
“yeah, but i liked having 8 hours of us time. now we will get like 4 hours a day max,” ellie leaned her head back on her couch, the dramatic pout still there. 
“how about we meet here every day after our shifts and have dinner together?” you offered, making her face light up, “i can cook and everything.”
“okay, but you have to sleep over at least once a week,” she demanded
“deal,” you smiled, teeth showing.
“if i’m not here though you can just let yourself in,” she casually commented, “i’ll give you a spare key.”
it went on like that for weeks, you coming over after your shift and making dinner and laughing with ellie about something joel or dina said until you eventually fell asleep on her couch. some nights you would watch a movie together, others you would bake something together (even though ellie usually tapped out when it came to cracking an egg). if ellie was running late or something you would make up time by cleaning up your mess from the kitchen or tidying up the living room, but by that time she would be stumbling through the door and apologizing for being late. 
this night, however, ellie was running extremely late. you had already cleaned both the kitchen and living room and there was still no sight of her. to avoid anxiously pacing around the room and waiting for her, you decided to clean her room. you swept the floors, wiped down her bedside table, and began making her bed before you noticed a notebook tucked in between her bed and it’s frame. 
you pulled it out of its place and examined it. it looked like it was frequently used, the edges of it torn and dirty. the yellow pages of the notebook were slightly hanging out and it looked like pages had been ripped out and stuffed back in. you shouldn’t read this, your mind rang clear. you wanted to respect ellie’s privacy, but curiosity got the best of you. 
you flipped to a middle page, skimming over some entry about how much joel was being an asshole before stopping at your name. your name in her notebook with hearts drawn around it. your name written in pink over and over again. below the different variations of your name was a paragraph, presumably about you. you read it in ellie’s voice.
“another successful patrol. and by successful i mean i tricked her into holding my hand. i probably sound like such a creep but all i want is to be close to her. i want to hold her hand as we walk down the streets of jackson and kiss her in a booth at the diner. when she got scared she would squeeze my hand a little. it made me dizzy. this crush feels like it’s going to ruin me. i think she may ruin me but i don’t even care. all i want is her.”
you smiled, flipping a page, heat rushing to your cheeks as you read another passage about you:
“i sang a song for her today that i wrote about her. she told me my voice was beautiful and asked who it was about. i panicked and told her it was about cat. fucking cat!!! i haven’t thought about cat in fucking forever. i just want to tell her already because this is so fucking embarrassing. she probably thinks i don’t like her but i do. what if she never knows? i’ll tell her eventually… i will.”
you sit down on her still unmade bed, reading the next page.
“i wanted to kiss her so bad today. ugh. her lips were all red and pouty from the cranberry juice and when she smiled her teeth were all red. she asked why i was smiling at her and i told her that her teeth were all red. she looked so embarrassed and got up to clean them. i felt like an asshole but that’s better than being rejected by her right?”
another one.
“we watched curtis and viper today after patrol. she cooked us chicken and then cried because it was her favorite chicken. this girl has the biggest heart in the world. when the movie was done we just talked about what life would be like if the apocalypse didn’t happen. she said she would have been a teacher or some kind of helping profession. she’s fucking sweet. i told her i’d probably be a dentist or a lawyer. something fun. i left out the part where i’d want to come home to her every night. i’m such a loser. i think i love her.”
the last part made you gasp, except the gasp wasn’t coming from your mouth, it came from the person standing in front of you. ellie.
“what are you doing with that?”
3K notes · View notes
gojoux · 1 year ago
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『 𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘 』
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· Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader
· Summary: Gojo is absolutely enamoured by you, even from the smallest thing you do, he’s always there to compliment you.
· CW: 5.2k // Fluff. Slight hurt/comfort. A bit suggestive. Being Gojo’s girlfriend means having a whipped boyfriend.
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When you’re training by yourself.
You took a deep breath as you adopted your fighting stance, feet spread shoulder-width apart, knees bent, hands raised and ready. Focusing your cursed energy to enhance your physical prowess, you began your training regimen, flowing through the intricate movements you had practiced countless times before. Your body twisted and turned gracefully as you performed each strike and kick with perfect form, having honed your skills through years of diligent work.
Sweat dripped down your forehead as you moved through the rigorous routine, not allowing yourself to slow down. With each punch, you visualize an enemy being struck down. With each kick, you imagined yourself growing stronger and more agile. The exertion left your muscles burning, but you pushed through, determined to improve.
After finishing the last set, you finally allowed yourself a moment of rest, chest heaving as you caught your breath. A sense of satisfaction washed over you at having completed such an intense workout. You knew all that effort was making you a better sorcerer.
“Look at you go,” a whistle was heard behind you.
You turned to see Gojo walking up, an admiring grin on his face. Even with his eyes obscured, you could tell he was looking you over appreciatively.
“Thanks,” you said, wiping the sweat from your forehead. “Just trying to stay in shape.”
“You kidding? You’re in incredible shape!” he said. “The way you moved was like watching poetry in motion.”
You smiled, flattered by his high praise, and happy to have your efforts recognized. As one of the strongest jujutsu sorcerers alive, compliments from Gojo meant a lot.
“I still have a long way to go before I’m anywhere near your level.”
“Of course,” he grins cheekily.
“But your dedication to training is really paying off, you know? Just look at how toned your arms are now,” he emphasized his point by gently grasping your arm, squeezing your bicep.
“Hey!” you exclaimed, swatting his hand away.
He laughed playfully. “What? I can’t help but admire my girlfriend’s incredible physique.”
You shook your head in amusement. Only Gojo would be shameless enough to fawn so openly over your body. But his compliments, as ridiculous as they were, filled you with motivation. Knowing he was watching and supporting your efforts spurred you to work even harder.
“Alright, lover boy, as much as I’d love to hear more about how attractive you find my sweaty post-workout look, I need to get cleaned up.”
“Need someone to wash your back?” he asked slyly, waggling his eyebrows.
You shot him a pointed look.
“Kidding, kidding,” he said, raising his hands.
You gathered your things and started heading towards the showers. As expected, Gojo fell into step beside you, seemingly not done singing your praises yet.
“In all seriousness, you’re really good. I mean it,” he continued earnestly.
Warmth rushed through you with his heartfelt words. “Thank you, I appreciate that,” you said sincerely. “But honestly, it’s not anything extraordinary, stop complimenting me too much over that.”
“Heh, I’m just calling it like I see it,” he replied. “My girlfriend’s a total badass who’s only getting more incredible every day. What can I say, I’ve got an eye for talent,” he added with a cocky wink.
You laughed, giving him a light shove. “You’re too much.”
“And you love it,” he retorted, slinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close.
You leaned into him, smiling up at his handsome face. “Yeah, I really do.”
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When you’re on your mission.
The dark alley was dimly lit, shadows stretching across the cramped passageway. Your footsteps were light and cautious as you scanned the area, senses on high alert. You were tracking a cursed spirit that had been terrorizing this neighborhood, attacking innocent civilians.
As a jujutsu sorcerer, it was your duty to stop threats like this.
Up ahead, you spotted your target—a grotesque, hulking creature with twisted features and elongated claws. It had a young woman pinned against the alley wall, ready to strike. With no time to lose, you leaped into action.
“Hey! Over here, ugly!” you shouted, firing off a blast of cursed energy to get its attention. The creature turned with an angry roar as you placed yourself between it and the cowering woman. Adopting a fighting stance, you are prepared to take it head-on.
The cursed spirit charged, swiping at you with ruthless force. But you were ready. With agile movements, you dodged and weaved, avoiding its attacks while looking for an opening. When you saw your chance, you struck—aiming your cursed technique at its chest sending it stumbling back.
Not letting up, you pressed your assault, pummeling the creature with your attacks. It tried to fight back but was no match for your superior speed and skill. With a final, devastating blow, you landed the finishing move, obliterating the cursed spirit in an explosion of energy.
Panting, you turned to check on the woman you had rescued. “Are you alright?” you asked gently to calm her down.
She stared at you with gratitude. “Th-thank you! You saved me!”
You smiled warmly, helping her to her feet. “Just doing my job. Let’s get you somewhere safe.”
After escorting her from the alley, you headed off to report your completed mission, satisfied at having eliminated the threat and protected an innocent life.
As you walked, a familiar voice suddenly spoke up behind you.
“Great moves back there,” he grins, walking towards you with his hand in his pocket. Looks like he got it easy on his task.
You turned to see Gojo beaming at you proudly. “When I felt that burst of energy, I knew it had to be you kicking some cursed spirit booty. And I was right.”
You laughed at his dramatic phrasing. “All in a day’s work. I’m just glad I got there in time.”
“Let me guess, you finished earlier and spied on me ‘kicking cursed spirit’s booty’,” you crossed your arms playfully, earning a chuckle from him.
“Yeah, it was a good show.”
Gojo stepped closer, gazing down at you admiringly. “It’s also that compassion that makes you such an amazing sorcerer,” he said. “You’re always focused on protecting people, even at great risk to yourself.”
His tone turned a bit calmer. “Watching you throw yourself in harm’s way like that… it scares me sometimes.” He gently caressed your cheek. “But it’s also one of the things I love most about you. Your drive to help others.”
You placed your hand over his, touched by his heartfelt words. “I’ll always do whatever it takes to keep people safe. I just have to.”
He smiled. “I know. And you do it with such skill too. The way you took down that cursed spirit was awesome. Your technique control has gotten better.”
“High praise coming from the strongest sorcerer around.”
“I’m just being honest here. You would’ve given me a run for my money, I bet."
You quirked an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? Care to put your money where your mouth is and take me on sometime?” you challenged playfully.
A devious grin crossed his face. “Is that a date? You know I love any excuse to get handsy with you.”
You laughed, giving him a light shove. Even after a tiring day, he could always lift your spirits.
“Maybe later,” you said, taking his hand. “For now, how about lunch? Fighting cursed spirits really works up an appetite.”
“It’s a date then!” he instantly entwined his fingers with yours. As you walked off together, he added, “You take my breath away, you know that?”
You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. “Aww, aren’t you my own personal hype man?” you teased.
“Always!” he declared with his usual wide grin.
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When you’re dressed up for a date.
“Satoru, can you come here for a second?” you called out from your bedroom.
“Be right there!” Came the reply, followed by the sound of approaching footsteps. Gojo stepped into the doorway, a signature grin on his face. “What’s up?”
You turned to him with a shy smile. “I just finished getting ready for our date tonight. Wanted to get your opinion on the outfit before we head out.”
It was your anniversary, and Gojo was taking you somewhere nice. You had agonized over what to wear, trying on ten different dresses before finally settling on the dress you’re wearing right now with delicate jewelry and heels to complete the elegant look.
Gojo’s eyebrows shot up above his glasses as he took in your appearance. “Wow…” he breathed, staring openly. “You look… beautiful.”
Your face heats up at his praise. “You really think so?”
“Absolutely stunning,” he affirmed, moving closer. His hands came to rest on your waist, head tilting as if to see you better from all angles. “This dress is perfect on you. It hugs your body just right.”
One hand slid sensuously down your side to emphasize his point. You hold his hand still with flushed laughter. “Down. boy. Keep it PG for now,” you chided playfully.
He held up his hands in acquiescence, though the desire in his gaze was palpable. “PG. Got it. I’m just appreciating my gorgeous girlfriend’s breathtaking beauty.”
You rolled your eyes at his dramatics, but his compliments made your heart flutter.
“The way the fabric drapes over your body…” he continued to admire you, “It’s like each detail was designed to accentuate your natural assets.” His voice dropped an octave. “Truly mouthwatering.”
“Satoru!” You swat his chest this time from embarrassment.
He grinned unrepentantly. “What? Can you blame me for being so captivated by you? You’re a vision right now. I’ve got the hottest date in town tonight, that’s for sure.”
You smiled, mollified by his sincerity beneath the teasing remarks. No one could make you feel as special and desired as Gojo.
“Think you can control yourself through dinner at least?” You asked archly.
He laughed. “I make no promises. But I’ll do my best to keep public groping to a minimum,” he replied with a wink.
Taking your hand, he led you downstairs and out the door, ever the gentleman. As you slid into the car though, his composure momentarily slipped.
“You look unbelievable in that dress,” he blurted, eyeing you up and down. “The things I want to do…”
He trailed off with an exaggerated groan. You dissolved into laughter, giving his arm an affectionate squeeze. Only Gojo could be so simultaneously sweet and shameless.
Dinner was an intimate, romantic affair. Gojo was on his best behavior, focused entirely on you. His compliments came often, praising everything from your smile to your witty banter. By dessert, you were practically glowing under his constant stream of adoration.
“Have I mentioned how stunning you look tonight?” He murmured, grazing his thumb over your knuckles. “Because you are dazzling, baby. I’m the luckiest guy here.”
You bite your lip, smile stretching wide. No matter how many times he said it, those words never got old.
The ride home was charged with anticipation. Gojo’s hands, so well behaved earlier, now roamed your body eagerly. Your pulse quickened as desire ignited.
Once inside, his control broke entirely. You found yourself pressed against the foyer wall, his mouth hot on your throat.
“I’ve been dying to get my hands on you all night,” he rasped into your skin. “This dress should be illegal… even the way you walk in it got me feeling hazy.”
You sighed blissfully as his lips and hands explored. When Gojo wanted you, he made sure you felt cherished, beautiful, and desired. It was intoxicating.
Later, lying enveloped in his arms, he nuzzled into your hair. “Have I mentioned you look sexy as hell in that dress?”
“Only about a hundred times tonight.”
“Well let’s make it a hundred and one,” he replied, rolling you beneath him to properly worship every tantalizing detail.
No matter the occasion, Gojo never failed to make you feel like a goddess. His passion and praise knew no bounds.
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When you failed your mission.
The cursed spirit’s claws tore through flesh and bone before you could react. The young boy’s scream pierced the air, then suddenly went silent as his broken body hit the ground. Shock rooted you in place for a critical moment before rage took over. With a cry, you unleashed the full force of your power, obliterating the cursed spirit in an instant.
But it was too late. The child was gone, his sightless eyes accusing you of failure. Sinking to your knees, anguish crashed through you in waves. You were supposed to protect him. Instead, your hesitation had cost an innocent life.
By the time Gojo arrived, you were numb with grief. He assessed the situation swiftly before kneeling and enveloping you in his arms. You collapsed against his chest, finally releasing the tears you had been holding back.
He didn’t speak, just held you close and let you cry. There was no judgment in his embrace, only compassion. So you wept bitterly for the life lost, for your mistake, for the cruelty of this world.
When the torrent finally passed, Gojo gently wiped the moisture from your cheeks. “Talk to me,” he said simply.
Haltingly, you explained what happened. The guilt was a crushing weight on your heart.
“I should have been faster. I could have saved him,” you choked out.
Gojo gripped your shoulders. “Listen to me. This was not your fault.” His voice brooked no argument. “You didn’t hesitate from incompetence or cowardice. It was empathy. You saw a scared child and your first instinct was to protect, not attack. That compassion is what makes you an amazing sorcerer.”
You shook your head bitterly. “A lot of good it did him.”
“You can’t save everyone,” Gojo said sadly. “As much as we try, we can’t prevent every tragedy. What matters is that you care so deeply, that you refuse to harden your heart, even when it hurts this much.”
You wanted to believe him, but the stench of blood was thick in the air, a constant reminder of your failure.
Sensing your doubt, Gojo took your hands in his. “You have the biggest heart of anyone I know. Don’t let this make you afraid to keep caring. There are so many people out there who need that compassion.”
He tilted your chin up to meet your eyes. “This pain… means your humanity is still intact. That’s something to be proud of.”
A sob caught in your throat as you clutched his uniform jacket, anchoring yourself in his steadfast strength. The grief was still raw and raging, but his words lit a faint glow in the dark. Not of absolution, but of hope. That you could keep fighting and caring, without losing yourself.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured. “You’ll get through this. I’m here for you.”
The next few days were filled with more tears, self-doubt and sleepless nights. But Gojo remained your constant companion, providing reassurance when the shadows loomed.
His praise never wavered. Each time you began slipping back into despair, he was there with an uplifting word.
Slowly, the light began to return to your eyes. Gojo’s unrelenting positivity and belief in you provided a lifeline to cling to. He reminded you of your own strength, even when you doubted it.
Not long after that day, Gojo took you out to dinner. Upon returning home, he presented you with a single white lily.
“This is to honor that boy’s memory,” he explained. “But also to show you that beautiful things can still grow, even from tragic circumstances.”
You accepted the flower, eyes stinging with bittersweet tears. Looking up at Gojo, you found no trace of pity there, only love.
“Thank you,” you whispered, for this gesture, and for everything he had done to see you through the darkness.
He kissed your forehead tenderly. “You never have to go through anything alone. I’m always here.”
Clutching the lily close, you rested your head against Gojo’s heart.
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When you’re happy.
You stared down at the official letter, reading the words over and over. You have been chosen by a revered sorcerer in Hokkaido for a mission that requires your skill. Better yet, you have always admired this sorcerer.
One in a million opportunity. It makes you feel special to have someone notice you to the point they requested for you because they need your skill. Just maybe, you’d have the opportunity to be trained by that sorcerer to improve yourself.
Hands shaking, you looked up at Gojo, seeing his face lit up with a brilliant smile. In an instant, you were swept off your feet as he spun you joyfully around the room. You clung to him, dizzy with euphoria.
When he finally set you down, he cupped your face in his hands. “I’m such a proud boyfriend,” he said. “All that hard training paid off, huh?”
Happy tears pricked your eyes. Having Gojo’s wholehearted support and belief in your abilities meant everything.
You can’t help but pull him down into a fierce, grateful kiss. His arms immediately enveloped you, lips curving into a smile against your mouth. When you finally broke for air, foreheads touching, the depth of emotion in his gaze took your breath away.
In the weeks that followed, Gojo went out of his way to celebrate your accomplishment at every opportunity.
There were bouquet deliveries to your door, with notes reading:
“To the future best jujutsu sorcerer!”
Gifts would arrive filled with your favorite treats:
“For my hardworking girlfriend who deserves something sweet!”
Even when you were curled up on the sofa, just spending a quiet night, he would randomly take your hand and announce:
“I’m the luckiest guy alive to be with you.”
His little displays of pride and support never failed to make you smile. Gojo genuinely reveled in your success as if it were his own. Your joy brought him joy, a sentiment you fully reciprocated.
On the morning you were to start the intensive program, Gojo made you a lavish breakfast in bed. As you ate, he detailed an elaborate training regimen to prepare you for the challenges ahead.
“And I’ll be your personal sparring partner of course. Have to keep those combat skills razor sharp!” He grinned. “I won’t go easy on you just because you’re my girlfriend.”
You laughed. “I’d be insulted if you did.”
His expression turned serious then. Taking your hand, he met your eyes earnestly. “You’re going to do amazing things, I just know it. And I can’t wait to stand back and watch you shine.”
Emotion clogged your throat. No matter how far you go in this field, Gojo will always be your biggest supporter.
“As cheesy as it sounds... as long as you’re by my side, I know I can handle anything,” you told him with a rather bashful smile.
He smiled softly. “Wild horses couldn’t drag me away.”
Leaning in, he kissed you sweetly. When he pulled back, his usual cocky smirk was firmly back in place.
“Now finish up. Time to go show off why you’re the badass jujutsu sorcerer they’re lucky to have!”
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When you’re sick.
A violent cough wracked your body as you huddled under the blankets, trying in vain to get warm. Your head was pounding, your throat raw, and your limbs heavy with fatigue. The flu had hit you hard and fast, leaving you miserable and bedridden.
A light knock at the door heralded Gojo’s arrival. He poked his head in, his usual playful grin replaced by a look of concern.
“How’s my girl doing?” he asked gently, sitting on the edge of the bed.
You offered a weak smile. “Been better,” you croaked out before dissolving into another coughing fit.
Gojo rubbed your back soothingly until the spasms passed. “Sounds nasty. Let me get you some water.”
He returned swiftly, helping prop you up to take small sips. The liquid soothed your inflamed throat but did little for the chills wracking your body.
Noticing your shivers, Gojo piled on more blankets and slid in behind you, pulling you close. The warmth of his body enveloped you, finally easing some of the shudders. You sank gratefully into his embrace.
“There we go, just rest,” he murmured, one hand gently stroking your hair. You sighed, comforted by his presence.
Gojo wasn't usually one for tender quiet moments. His boundless energy and shameless mouth tended to dominate any interaction. But now, he was the picture of care and concern—keeping his touch light, his voice quiet and soothing.
You were moved by this rare glimpse of his gentle side. Having someone see you like this—sweaty, sick and pathetic—would normally make you self-conscious. But with Gojo, you felt safe letting your guard down completely.
“Sorry you have to see me like this,” you mumbled.
He tilted your chin up. “Nonsense. You’re beautiful no matter what.” His thumb lightly caressed your cheek. “I’m glad you’re comfortable enough around me to be vulnerable.”
Warmth bloomed in your chest, and not from the fever. Even wrecked by illness, he could still make you feel cherished.
“What did I do to deserve you?” you whispered.
He grinned. “I ask myself that every day.” Dipping his head, he placed a feather-light kiss on your forehead. “Now, hush. No more talking, just rest.”
You settled against him once more, lulled by the steady rhythm of his heart. Time passed in a haze of fitful sleep and coughing fits, but Gojo stayed dutifully by your side.
When the chills returned, he bundled you uptight, acting as your own personal furnace. He patiently fed you soup and medicine, made sure you were hydrated, and kept the tissues handy.
True to form, he also kept up a constant stream of praise and encouragement.
“There’s my tough girl, fighting this nasty bug off.”
“Even under all those blankets, you’re still the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”
“Look at you powering through these coughs like a champ!”
His little comments never failed to make you smile. Only Gojo could find something positive even in your current state.
After two days of attentive care, your fever finally broke. The aches and fatigue gradually receded until you were able to sit up without assistance.
Gojo beamed at you. “There she is! Knew you could kick this flu’s butt.”
Taking your hand, he pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, and his eyes shone with affection. “I’m so proud of you for pushing through this. You’re strong.”
“I wouldn’t have made it without you.”
He waved it off. “I just gave you a nudge. You did all the hard work.”
Cupping your face in his hands, he gazed at you earnestly. “Never doubt your strength, or hide your struggles from me, okay? Ask me anything, I’ll give them all to you.”
You nodded, heart brimming with love for this man.
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When you’re annoyed at him.
“Satoru, I swear if you don’t stop messing around I’m going to—argh!” you yelled in exasperation.
The infuriating man just laughed, dancing easily out of your reach as you swiped at him. He had been pestering you all morning with juvenile pranks and teasing remarks, fraying your last nerve.
“Aww, is someone a wittle gwumpy today?” he taunted in a baby voice.
You saw red. Lunging forward, you tackled him to the ground. Caught off guard for once, he landed hard on his back with a grunt. You pinned him in place with your body weight, glaring down at him.
“Call me grumpy one more time and I’ll show you just how nasty my mood is,” you growled.
Gojo’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Then a slow, wicked grin spread across his face.
“Well, damn, baby. I love it when you get feisty with me,” he purred. His hands came up to grip your hips suggestively.
You swatted them away in irritation. “Don’t get any ideas. I’m still mad at you.”
Rolling off him, you crossed your arms with a huff. Gojo sat up, smile fading.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry for riling you up too much,” he grins. “Didn’t realize you were actually that annoyed with me.”
Your anger deflated at the apology. He may act like a brat sometimes, but Gojo is always quick to make amends when he crosses a line—well, only for you, at least. (Don’t tell Geto and Utahime about this!)
With a sigh, you uncrossed your arms. “It’s fine. I overreacted too.” Glancing over at him sheepishly, you added, “And I know I’ve been… prickly lately. The stress has just put me in a bad mood.”
Between juggling studying, missions, and training, you had been spread thin. Gojo’s antics had been the last straw.
He scooted closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “You have nothing to apologize for. I should’ve realized you needed me to dial it down and help you decompress.”
Leaning into him, you gave a tired smile. “Well, tackling you did feel pretty therapeutic, actually.”
Gojo’s laughter rumbled against you. “See? Violence solves everything!” he joked, squeezing you playfully.
You push his chest slightly, but couldn’t help chuckling too. Only Gojo could vex you one minute and make you laugh the next.
He pressed a conciliatory kiss to your temple. “Tell you what, why don’t you go take a nice long bath to relax while I make us dinner?”
The offer was extremely tempting after the high-stress week you’d had.
“That does sound really nice,” you admitted. “But you don’t have to cook, I’m sure I could throw something—”
He held up a hand. “Nope, you just focus on unwinding. Doctor Gojo’s orders.”
The mental image of him in a doctor’s coat and nothing else briefly distracted you. At your silence, he grinned knowingly. “I’ll take that as an agreement to my plan.”
Rolling your eyes, you stood and stretched. “Fine, you win this round.”
“I always do,” he retorted cockily.
True to his word, Gojo prepared a delicious meal while you soaked in the tub. The aromas wafting in from the kitchen made your stomach rumble eagerly.
By the time you made it downstairs, the table was set with your favorites. Gojo greeted you with a flourishing bow.
“For the lovely lady, a feast fit for a queen.”
You laughed at his antics, touched by the effort. Over dinner he kept the conversation light, making you laugh recounting silly stories. For the first time all week, you felt your tension finally easing.
Later, as you lounged together on the couch, Gojo spoke up softly. “Feeling more relaxed now?”
You nodded, snuggling closer. “Definitely. Thank you for all this, it was just what I needed.”
Strong arms wrapped securely around you. “I’ll always be here to take care of you, no matter what.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Even when you get grumpy and violent with me,” he added teasingly.
You groaned. “Ugh, I’m sorry for tackling you like that.”
“What do you mean? I loved it,” he said, weirdly eager about it. “Seeing you all fired up and feisty was incredibly hot.”
“You’re so weird.”
“You know you love me,” he shot back smugly.
Rolling your eyes, you stretched up to kiss him. “Hmm, you’re right.”
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He just loves everything about you.
“Can I have everyone’s attention, please?”
Gojo’s voice boomed across the crowded hall, quieting the others in this luxurious restaurant he took you on a date with after high school graduation.
“Thank you. Now I know speeches aren’t usually allowed during meals, but I convinced the manager here to let me have the floor for a few minutes.” He flashed his most charming grin. “After all, it’s not every day a man gets to proudly proclaim the love of his life to a crowd.”
Your eyes widened in surprise as he pulled you up to stand up with him. Taking both your hands, he continued earnestly.
“This person right here is the most incredible human being I’ve ever met. Smart, strong, kind-hearted, and breathtakingly beautiful.”
Murmurs spread through the hall listening raptly. You felt your cheeks grow warm at the public praise. Trust Gojo to be so shamelessly romantic.
He went on, tone utterly sincere beneath the dramatics. “Her passion for helping others inspires me daily. The way she fights with skill and compassion in equal measure is a marvel to watch.”
Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a folded piece of paper. “I could spend hours listing all the reasons she amazes me, which is why I wrote it down.” Winking, he unfurled the lengthy scroll with a flourish, clearing his throat.
“Ahem… ‘The top 100 things I love about my girlfriend, revised edition’. Reason one…”
Your jaw dropped as he proceeded to read the entire list out loud to the captive audience.
It was mortifying. It was ridiculous.
It was so utterly Gojo.
As he extolled your praises, you buried your flaming face in his shoulder. “You’re crazy, you know that?” you mumbled against his suit.
He just chuckled and kept reading. “Reason 37, The way she scrunches her nose at me when I tell a bad joke…”
Despite your embarrassment, warmth blossomed in your chest. Trust Gojo to turn a simple dinner into a grand spectacle of devotion.
When he finally finished, he rolled up the scroll with a flourish and grinned down at you. “Of course, the list could go on forever. But I think I’ve sufficiently made my point.”
Cupping your face in his hands, he said loud enough for all to hear, “You are the love of my life. My soulmate. My one and only.” Then he brought his lips to yours in a fiercely passionate kiss.
Catcalls and applause erupted from the watching audience you (and him) don’t even know. But you were deaf to it all, lost in Gojo’s embrace.
When you broke for air, faces still inches apart, he murmured, “I’ll spend every day finding new reasons to love you.”
Emotion clogged your throat. You had gotten used to his easy affection and endless praise over the time. But this loud, public proclamation was on another level entirely.
“I love you too,” you whispered back, your feelings laid as bare as his.
Ignoring the continued hoots and chatter around you, Gojo lifted you effortlessly in his arms.
“Now then, I believe we have some private celebrating to do,” he purred suggestively in your ear.
“You’re terrible. What am I going to do with you?” You laugh in happiness.
“I can think of a few ideas,” he replied with a sly wink.
As he carried you out of the hall, you shook your head in amusement. Life with Gojo was never boring, that was for sure.
In between chaotic battles and daily life responsibilities, your relationship has grown into something truly profound. A partnership built on unwavering trust, passion, and laughter.
Gojo adored you loudly and unapologetically, just as you loved him.
And you wouldn’t want it any other way.
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Also writing this as a practice dump for my upcoming English creative writing competition lol
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