#sometimes a man must awake to find that really he has. no one

[skidfart]

i loevyou the most

so i'll wait for youuuu and ill burnnn wil i ever see ur sweet retuuuurn oh wil i ever learrnnnn lover u shouldve come overrr cause its not too lateeeeeee

hi i loev you

[amfstargirl]

Yandere batfam x neglected reader

So, pack up your car, put a hand in your heart, sing what ever you feel, be wherever you are

We ain't angry at you love. ⋆·˚ ༘ *

The pain of the neglected soul. Under the heavy mood lingering in the manor. An architectural design that screams wealth but is never wealthy with love and laughter. well, at least not to the second youngest child of Bruce Wayne, the billionaire playboy, the most powerful man in Gotham City.

Being a product of a mistake between an infamous prostitute and a well-known, almost "celebrity"-like man was not really an ideal life. Being shunned away by the woman who you call Mom, who's supposed to whisper sweet words to you and rock your fragile body back and forth to ease you of whatever you feel bad about, instead shoves you into the arms of an unknown man who's your supposed father. Yeah, that sucks.You've always adored your mom. Despite the horrible words she casually whispers to you - "you ruined me, kid"—you turn a blind eye to her actions and act deaf to her cruel words and instead pretend that she's the mom who loves you and adores you just as much as you do for her. Because it was better. It just was. Your brain can't really process the fact that your abusive mother can be abusive. No, not when she was the one who carried you for 273 days, birthed you, and gave you your name. A 5-year-old's brain can't possibly carry the thought of having that same woman hate you. So even when it was your birthday, you waited for her all day to come home and give you kisses and maybe a birthday cupcake or present. just for once, she comes home drunk, messy, and dizzy with a man on her arms while laughing feverishly. It crazy to think that was the most happiest you've seen her; she was always scowling when she was with you. Strange. Even so you greet her with a hug. "Momma, I've been waiting for you all day—" she cuts you off and tells you to get away from her and calls you this strange name "annoying" huh. Wonder what that means. And for the next hours you spend your birthday alone, in your bedroom. Awake and hungry. But it doesn't matter at least mom came home! Sometimes she doesn't even come home for a few days, but she came home today! That means she must love you. Only for a few days she stays at home with the strange man she brought home on the day of your birthday. It doesn't bother you, it was normal after all. She always do this and then after a few days the man's gone. Yeah, this is just temporary. You say as you clean the house full of dirty clothes and empty alcohol bottles. And then one night the strange man is yelling at your mom; screams filled the tiny apartment with smashing sounds of bottles echoing around the room. You're furious, and you want to defend the woman who you oh so lovingly call "mother" You push the man away, and it angers him. With his bloodshot eyes, he grabbed the bottle and smashed it at the side of your tiny head. You soon wake up in a large room with bright lights and thick white walls. Soon you find out that you're in a hospital; its so cool, it's the size of your living room! Maybe even bigger… Moments later you found out that your mother gave you up to some unknown man who is to be called your "father.". You thrash and scream against the nurse's hold and scream for your mommy, yet she never came.A strange man came and introduced himself. He said he was "Alfred" and said from now on he will take care of you. That's silly because no one in your entire life has had someone take care of you. Soon he drives you to a gloomy big house with lots of statues as Alfred proceeds to tell you that this will be your new home now. Different portraits adorn the walls, and shiny pottery and impressive works of art fill the house. Alfred soon introduced you to your father, Bruce Wayne. Now this is where it all starts. With your new home, hope sparked through your heart, and you believed that somehow, someway, maybe you'll be able to get the love that you have always longed for, yearned for, waited for.

Wrong.

Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy, the most powerful man of Gotham, the heartthrob, the Batman, but never the father of y/n l/n. He doesn't even know you. Doesn't even try to acknowledge you and your hard work, desperate to try anything to make him pay attention to you. To give you the attention you crave and yearn for ever since you arrived at the comfort of his home. You weren't stupid. You knew who he was and his nightly activities. You understood. But what hurts was that despite this, he managed to give every. Single. One. Of his children, attention except you. Was it because you weren't like them? Was it because you didn't fight bad guys for a hobby? Or was it because he never deemed you worthy of his time? Why? Were all the things the kids and big adults whispered behind your back true? That you were a child of a whore and you were bound to become one too over a matter of time? Was it true you'll never compare to your siblings? Being compared to your siblings, who had so much talent and had their own special abilities that yours can't compare to, was draining—and partially true. Your little ballet classes can never impress bruce over his other children's combat skills, multilingual abilities, and genius calculations. And you learned to accept that over the years as you grew up.

Richard grayson, dick, the loving big brother, the family guy. Maybe he was a good guy. After all, he managed to acknowledge you for about 6 seconds one time! He even asked you about your ballet classes! Though that was only to distract his self before Damian came. Always the big brother and Lil brother duo! .. Despite being busy with being a full-time cop and a vigilante, he still makes time for family, the ones he considers as family. Not you, never you. Who were you kidding? Dick is the star of the show, and you're just another side character in his main character life! Just a plain, old, boring bystander. That's all you will ever be to little Richard Grayson's glam life story.

Jason todd was different. He was known as someone who was brutal and full of anger. So it was no problem for him to shove you and tell you off. He had no conscience in telling you to go away, and you liked that. You like the fact that at least he had the decency to not give you false hope. Jason todd hates you, and you know it. Jason todd is jealous of your normalcy and how oblivious you are to the danger of the world. In his eyes, you were his replacement; looking at you makes the green monster of envy crawl out of him and take his anger out on you. The way you are so vulnerable stirs something up inside of him, and he realizes that your eyes look just like his when he was full of wonder and innocence. It made him restless and irritated. It reminded him of his mistakes, foolishness, and those memories he buried deep inside his mind to save him from countless nightmares he desperately ran away from.

Timothy Drake, the genius Robin, the hero by choice, the prodigy son. You would be lying if you said that you weren't jealous of Tim at all. I mean, look at him! He's a genius, a hero, a heartthrob, and a role model to several youths of Gotham. He was exactly like Bruce, and I mean exactly like Bruce. His life revolved around solving crimes, fighting bad guys, acing all of his tests, and coffee. Anything was more important other than you. Sure! He has time to cuddle with his family for movie night (without you, of course) but never has the time to play video games with you. Everything seemed to send thrills to his veins and spark an interest in him except your very existence. If you were just a mere bystander in Dick's story, you weren't even in Tim's!

Cassandra. The girl of the family. You have always envied her. Not only was she the only girl of the family and doted on by every single one of your brothers, but you and she also shared the same interest. What's even more infuriating was that she didn't even have to try. She didn't have to beg countless times to have anyone attend her performances because they were all there. Even Jason, who hid in the shadows. They were all there to support her and show her the love you have always asked for, begged for. She swooned all of them with her dancing, and you can't help that maybe her hands are more gentle, maybe her feet are more pointed, maybe her posture is more straight than yours, maybe she's prettier than you, maybe she's more worth than you.

And finally. Damian al Ghul Wayne. The youngest son, the baby brother, the scarred child loved by his family. When Damian came into the manor, you were thrilled. You thought that maybe you and he could bond over the same trauma. Maybe finally someone can understand you.You thought wrong again. Damian thought you were weak and a disgrace to the bloodline of the Wayne family clan. He called you thousands of cruel names and insulted you whenever he had the chance to. He always belittled you and showed you no mercy, going as far as to drag the blade of his sword across your neck, drawing blood, just for him to cruelly laugh in your face and tell you that you are being dramatic. You forgave him. You were a good kid. Right? So why is it that a kid who made thousands of innocent lives bleed through his sword is sitting with his father—your father—on the couch, sleeping soundly on his chest? It's not fair.

They were never fair.

As Dick was checking the CCTV footage of the manor out of boredom, he managed to catch a glimpse of footage—about 2 weeks ago—of a person packing their bags and putting things from the manor into a box and leaving. It must be a thief! But that's impossible. The manor has many securities that even a skilled assassin could not pass through the gates; it's impossible. Unless…Dick took another glance at the footage and zoomed in on the screen and squinted his eyes. And for a second, his breath hitched and his heart pumped fast, his hand trembled, and his eyes dilated.

It can't be.

[rafesangelita]

🍪; lover, you should have come over by jeff buckley

♡ “sometimes a man must awake to find that really he has no one. so i’ll wait for you, love.”— in which rafe never took your relationship seriously when he had you, so you left the island in hopes of starting new. however, you’re back one year later, and this time you’re both on the same page.

warnings: second chance au, implied age gap, lots of talk about marriage and having kids, angst, time skip, rafe is pretty regretful in this one

a/n: this couldn’t have been a more perfect request! i’ve been wanting to do something like this for a while now. left this one on a little cliffhanger, pls don’t hate me </3 buttttt if requested enough, i’m completely open to making a part two!

rafe knew the night you left him without a word, he was the one entirely at fault. he knew deep down there was only so much you could take before you’d have to realize he wasn’t going to give you what you wanted more than anything else, and that was serious commitment. despite you being slightly younger than him, you valued the more serious, traditional side of things. while rafe was thinking about where he would take you to dinner next, you were wondering if your babies would have his blue eyes.

refusing to be the one to initiate that kind of conversation with him, you held your tongue and enjoyed the time you had with him until your heart couldn’t take it anymore. the final straw for you was when you two were laying together the way you always did post-sex, and rafe revealed to you that marriage would never be in the cards for him. he claimed that he was too much of a possessive person to share you with anyone else, let alone children, and you swore your heart broke in two.

“you don’t want to get married.. like ever?” you gazed up at him with those fucked out eyes of yours, just hoping he wouldn’t say the words that would give you confirmation to let him go. “no. i know a lot of people say this, but it’s true; marriage is just a piece of paper.” that night, you remembered every curve and detail of his face, forever engraving his image in your head as you silently slipped out of tanneyhill and didn’t look back. you cried. oh, god, you cried so much. apart of you felt like going back and erasing all desire of marriage and family and just indulge in what you and rafe had, but in no world would that work.

rafe woke up that morning, feeling a profound sense of emptiness he didn’t expect to feel without you near. he recalled the way you looked at him before he fell asleep, like you were never going to see him again. panic set in, his feet moving before he could think. he called your name out, checking every room and bathroom before the harsh reality hit him like a ton of bricks. he called your phone, throwing his own when an automated message said the line had been deactivated.

rafe was in denial the first week. he was sure you’d turn up somehow, somewhere, and wrap your arms around his shoulders while planting kisses on his neck, but you never came. that didn’t stop him from looking for you any chance he got, hoping, pleading that he’d bump into you somewhere and you’d go home with him. when he caught word that you had left the island altogether, he felt hurt, betrayed. how could someone as sweet and soft, and so precious as yourself just vanish without warning?

he didn’t understand, not being able to wrap his head around the fact that you felt like you had to run from him. you were the only thing he had on this god forsaken island. his family, his friends, no one truly knew him like you did. no one recognized his efforts to be a better man, no one comforted him, loved him. he spent his days focused on work, completely shutting everyone out. he was filled with regret, and it was your absence that made him realize marriage was so much more than a legal document.

it was vowing to never take that person for granted, it was carving your love in a stone of history, it was a sacred promise to never leave one another, a sacred promise that he so badly wished to have another chance at. before he knew it, an entire year had passed and just like you, there was nothing he wanted more than a family of his own. scratch that, he didn’t just want it. he dreamt about it, yearned for it just as much as he yearned for you. what he didn’t know, was that it wouldn’t be long until you showed up at his door.

[bizbat]

He Realizes He Loves You - JJK x Reader

~ Reader is implied to be under 6ft but appearance is otherwise not mentioned.

~ Reader is implied to be fem and is explicitly fem + afab in Toji's part.

~ Including: Toji Fushiguro, Megumi Fushiguro, Satoru Gojo, Kento Nanami, Suguru Geto, Choso Kamo, and Sukuna Ryomen (in order).

~ Feel free to request a character not included!

~ Smut included for multiple characters.

~ You can find more of my works here.

~ Thank you to (@starlight5cat, @s0ph1a7, @koiromii, @totallydestiny, @local-hopeless-romanic, @dalis-raines,@ryosuku, @liargh, @llotusfeet1, @crustychoco, @cult-of-norman, @broccolihater80, @bringmethewolves, @sohstayshawol, @therealisttheillest, @midnightxsecretary, @skullzgarden, @tiatasha-01, @sardonyx005, and @dimpled-peach) for all the characters they suggested!

~ Cw: Creampie (Toji), Slight Anal (also Toji), Pet Names (also also Toji) :( Mild Groping (Choso), Slight Yandere/obsessive behavior (Geto)

He realizes he loves you.

Toji - Explicit Smut, Wc: 315

The way you're squeezing him like you don't want him to pull out, calling his name like a hymn, God he might just cum right then and there. He's losing his mind as his hips slam against your ass, his thumb in your other hole, gripping the fat of your cheek while using it as leverage to pull you pack onto him.

Fuck, have you always sounded so sweet? And have you always been this pretty? He can't remember. All he knows is that he's not sure he's ever felt this good. He knows he's not thinking straight when his hips stutter, his cock throbbing inside you, and instead of slowing down, he speeds up. If he was a bit more cognizant, he'd consider pulling out, but who is he kidding?

You're too sweet to him, he knew it from the day you met. If he was a less selfish man, he'd have walked out of your life the second he felt his pants tighten at the sound of your voice. But, he's thankful he's not less selfish. "Gonna let me cum inside ya, baby?"

But, at the end of the night, he can cum in any broad willing to spread her legs for him. The second he blows his load, he'll be heading out the door. He's done it a million times. Veni, vidi, veni. Sometimes he'll turn a one night stand to a two night stand, but he never does more than twice.

Wait, how many times has he been over to your place again? Nevermind, he's cumming now. He doesn't still his hips as the thick, creamy white substance spills out of your cute little cunt. But his brain is fried, so when your juices coat his thighs, and your fingers squeeze his forearms, all while pressing your glossy lips to his . . . How's he supposed to help himself?

"F-Fuck, love you baby."

~

Megumi - No Smut, Wc: 265

He's never been the type to "jolt" out of bed. He usually slowly comes to consciousness, his body acting as a natural clock. Tsumiki would always say he was the early bird of the two. It was always just his routine.

But today, for some reason, the second he wakes up he snaps up and out of bed, his back straight as an arrow. It takes a second for his brain to register why. It's you. Here you are, peacefully laying in his bed beside him, his sheets covering everything but your face. You must have fallen asleep here after you and the other first years had movie night.

His eye twitches as he considers what to do. He doesn't wanna wake you, you look like a little angel, granted, you have a bit of drool dripping out of the corner of your mouth, but an angel nonetheless! He doesn't wanna tell Gojo, lord knows he'd never let him live it down. He doesn't want the higher-ups to find out and get you in trouble.

His brain moves damn near a mile a minute as he thinks of possible solutions. If you were awake you'd probably tease him about the smoke coming out of his ears. His eyes anxiously dart across his room, as if something in there could possibly fix his problem-

Until you roll over, your arm limply draped across his lap. It's not really a problem, is it? Gojo can handle it, he thinks to himself as he slips back under the covers, letting you hold onto him as you sleep in.

~

Gojo - No Smut, Wc: 334

Satoru doesn't do it for praise. While the sound of his sweet girlfriend's voice thanking and complimenting him is practically music to his ears, it's not his sole motivation. He's not sure what it is.

Maybe it's the sparkle in your eyes when he gives you your favorite type of pastry, he went out of his way to visit your favorite bakery, even though it was out of his way. Or maybe it's how tightly you hold him when he brings you a new bottle of your favorite perfume, even though the manufacturer stopped selling it. Maybe it's the way you squeal his name with joy and surprise when he appears at your doorstep, a cute little kitten in his arms, a bright blue bow tied around its neck.

He's not sure. It could be all of them for all he knows. Don't get him wrong, it's more than enough to get him out of bed every day. But it might actually be the fact that you almost . . . disregard his gifts afterwards. Maybe that's not the right word, but you're so casual about everything (except the kitten ofc). The necklace he got you last month, the one with his and your initials inside of a gold heart? You wear it everyday. Never say a word about it.

The watch he dropped at least a band on, the one that has five sets of hands and tells the time in Japan and your home country? You keep that in its case next to your bed. In the entire time you've dated, he doesn't think you've ever asked him for anything material. Maybe to do the dishes or take out the trash

Maybe that's it, actually. The fact that you'd rather spend time with him. That you see him as the biggest gift of all, it plays into his ego, sure. But there's something different about the way you cherish him, versus how the world does. Regardless, the thought makes him smile, makes his heart swell.

~

Nanami - Mild Smut, Wc: 336

Nanami has a lot of regrets in life.

He regrets every missed opportunity, every untaken chance, every day he's taken for granted, when others have to struggle so much to get half as far. Sometimes, he worries the thing that will finally do him in is grief. He has nightmares about choking on all of his remorse, and his biggest fear is that the second he gets something good, he'll be too distracted to hold onto it. But he has no regrets about you. He can feel it, even when he was still a student. Nanami knows how special you are. He sees it in the way your soft hands hold his face every morning and every night. In the way your lips curl and your hips wiggle in a little dance when you eat your favorite food. In the way your voice always rasps a small "good morning, my love," even before your eyes have opened.

God, you're special to him. And he knows better than to let you get away without knowing that. So when he has you in his arms, naked as the day you were born, your eyes tired and your skin sticky, he lets you know. He leans down, his nose pressed into the crook of your neck, his lips just barely ghosting against your skin. He thrusts his hips gently, your soft smile and tiny moans encouraging him. He doesn't need to realize he loves you, he already knows that, but until now, right this very second, he didn't realize he was in love with you. And it hits him like a truck. He hadn't realized that your laugh is his favorite sound in the world, that he could eat your cooking until the day he dies, that you could scream at him for hours and hours, and he'd still think you had the voice of an angel.

But God, you're special. He mumbles into your collarbone, something he's always ment, but never fully grasped. "Ngh~ God, I love you."

~

Geto - Implied Smut, Wc: 352

You're so blessed. You have his head resting in your lap, his hair loose as your fingers card through it, his robes barely hanging onto his muscled form. He's so beautiful, you can't believe you're only getting to see him up close now. His dark eyes stare penetratingly into your soul, his soft smile making your heart feel like it's on fire.

He has invited you into his personal quarters, the familiar scent of sage, and oils wafting through the air. It wasn't uncommon for him to invite someone to his room, just to keep him warm or entertained, not that it was frequent, but it wasn't like it never happened. To say that this wasn't what you had expected upon first entering, would be an understatement.

You had introduced yourself to him, bowing at his feet as you began stating your name and how long you'd been a member, only for him to interrupt you, listing information you didn't even know he knew about you, information you didn't even know about you. You sat there on your hands and knees, mouth agape in surprise, until he placed a hand under your chin, gently closing your mouth and guiding you to your feet. You didn't think to question it, of course your lord and master knew everything about you.

He pulled you deeper into the room, going into detail about how you had caught his eye the moment you had begun worshiping him and his ideals. He explained his plan for you to lead alongside him, become his bride and second in command, only if you wanted to, of course. It was a big responsibility, hundreds of people suddenly bending to your every whim. Not to mention his two wonderful daughters.

But why would you ever say no? How could you possibly deny the prospect of being his wife- Geto-Sama's wife!? So here you are, your own robes just as loose as his as you carefully stroke his long, inky locks. You're so beautiful, he's truly blessed to have such an obedient, loving little lamb in his flock, finally, all to himself.

~

Choso - No Smut, Wc: 282

He's happy he has you here. Sat in his lap, the glow TV illuminating your pretty face, his hands up your shirt. The only thing that could make this better would be if his brothers were here, though, perhaps it's better if they aren't. He does appreciate the intimacy of it just being you and him.

He can't help himself from looking up at you, paying attention to the way you mindlessly chew on your lip. It makes his own lips part with desire. "Can-can you kiss me again?" He lightly squeezes your chest, his fingers tightening around the black lace bra under your shirt.

His curious, pleading eyes are too hard to ignore. He moans into your mouth, one hand groping your breast, the other gently holding your tummy. He rests his head on your shoulder when you finally pull away, a nervous smile on his face, he's still learning how to do it right, he hopes you don't mind. Actually, he knows you don't.

If anything, you love it. He can tell by the way you hold his cheeks when he does it, the way you giggle and kiss him more and more just to see it widen. He wants to do that for you. He wants to hold your cheeks and giggle when you smile and kiss you to see you do it more.

His heart erratically beats in his chest as he impulsively reaches out, turning your face and holding you still while he presses messy kisses to your lips. He doesn't stop the barrage of pecks when you ask him what he's doing. He just smiles. And that makes you smile. And that makes him smile more.

~

Sukuna - Implied Smut, Wc: 266

If you were to ask him about it, he'd laugh in your face. Sukana cares for no one, he does not love, he does not enjoy anyone's presence, he does not feel warmth in his chest when you kiss his cheek. Absolutely not. Never. You'd be foolish to think otherwise.

You may be his favorite concubine, who he always lets lay with him in bed after he's had his fill. Who he lets run her fingers through his hair during bathtime. Who he makes sure is seated on his lap at all times. But that does not mean he likes you. It just means he finds you tolerable. Yes, that's it.

He finds you tolerable, at most, and that's generous, even, so there you go, there's your answer. Only, you didn't even ask to begin with. You said "Good morning, my lord," and here he is, going on a rant in his head about how much he doesn't love you. Shit. He's in deep. Far too deep for anyone of his standing, and it's too late for him to pull himself out of this eternal abyss.

Curse you, wench, for having such control over him, unwittingly at that. Who do you think you are? With your adorable face, and your soft hair, and your nice smell-Wench! Mark his words, he may be steadfast in making you his bride, and disposing of any other concubines that expresses too much jealousy, and keeping his palace decorated in a way that you would find flattering, but he is not in love with you by any stretch of the imagination.

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about Wade being one of the best mercs that there is job completion wise, his ratio must be somewhere close to 1:53 seeing as that's how unlikely he is to not complete a job one way or another right?

I feel like this ultimately is terrifying to actually witness.

Logan seeing just how much work Wade puts into his job and hearing stories from Vanessa of finding him sharpening knifes while staring at her while she slept in dead silence or finding maps, photos, very detailed plans laid out about his next kill down to where he lives, how long it would take for the police to reach him if he uses his gun and how difficult it would be to clean up if he used his katanas, etc. Everything is laid out from the second he steps out the door to the moment he gets back home.

Now Al's blind. So he gets into the bad habit of leaving everything out, giving Logan the chance to snoop, looking over the plans only to realize- holy shit. He has everything from how many vents are in his house to which neighbors might be a problem AND plans to deter them.

He comes to realize that all that over thinking Wade does and his one track mind makes him the perfect killer. Most killers have other motives. Wade just needs the dopamine of completely the task and moving on to the next one.

I can see him coming out of the bathroom to see Wade sharpening his tools while looking absolutely pissed but he's just focused.

"... wade?"

The once scrunched face man glances up at him and suddenly has the most confused puppy face before smiling. "Hi Wolvie. Finally awake, sleeping beauty?"

"..you good?"

"Hm?? Oh- Yeah I just got a job later." And thats all he says before going back to glaring, frowning at the metals, trying his hardest to get it damn near perfect.

You never really would expect someone so affectionate to be so serious about killing people, even taking intimidation jobs these days, as well as working for children.

And he never is kidding about the price that he sets. Sometimes, the price is calculated based on time and the amount of ammo he'd be using. Other times, it was a supreme pizza with banana peppers. So when he gets back he will be expecting his pizza with banana peppers. Dont let him down.

This works out sometimes. Other times, he gets too excited and says he'll do it for significantly less than what he should charge, but hey- it's all about that rush of serotonin once the jobs done. Nothing else matters.

[flametrashiraarchive]

YOUR DOUMA HEAD CANNONS WERE SO GOODDD you should write about him more ^_^

☺️ thank you!

I will never pass up the chance to write more about the murder pookie. Part one here!

NSFW under the cut.

CW for oral sex while sleeping

DOUMA HEADCANONS 2

Have I mentioned that this man is a menace?

One time he had you sit in his lap with your back to his chest while he was delivering a sermon.

His cock was inside you the entire time. And you can bet this fucker dragged the sermon out.

"Stay completely still. Nobody must suspect a thing. If you're a good pet, you'll be rewarded when they leave."

If his disciples noticed they didn't let on.

But he loved it. Couldn't stop grinning whenever your muscles desperately clenched and twitched around his cock.

Finally let you start riding when you were alone again, his elegant fingers and soft hands assisting you with orgasm after orgasm.

Singsongs your name when he wants attention and you're otherwise occupied. If you dont reply right away he gets whiny.

Many assume he's airheaded because of his playful nature. But Douma is incredibly cunning.

And he loves you because you recognize that in him.

"You're smart too, for a human."

Loves to talk about grand philosophies while you're fucked out and slipping into sleep. Nudges you awake so he can keep talking to you.

Sends you out alone to buy flowers since the flower market is only open during the day. He trusts you to return to him. Knows you're just as smitten with him as he is with you. Loves the flowers you pick. Lets you braid them into his hair.

Loves to walk you through the city at night, a slender, gold chain around your neck, connected to an identical one around his wrist.

All symbolic of course, but oh so pretty.

Lets you paint his nails.

Gets away with literal murder because you find him adorable.

Extra snuggly and needy after the upper moon meeting. They were so cold to him 🥺

Leaves his little fangs sticking out against his bottom lip if you're in a grumpy mood.

Loves petting your hair and your skin. Will order the finest oils and bejeweled combs to preen his "soft, pretty little pet."

Buys you the prettiest clothes. Sits cross-legged on the floor and applauds you when you try them on for him.

The oral fixation on this guy...

He doesn't require sleep, so sometimes when you're asleep and he's bored, he likes to get between your knees and... wake you up 👀

Loves how you squirm and whimper in your sleep. You belong to him when conscious and in your dreams.

Tried masturbating after he figured out he could cum. Wasn't all that into it. Felt kinda lonely.

Experimented with jerking off in front of you while you pleasured yourself for him, which was a little more fun, but he only really cums when he's fucking you.

Enjoys seeing you wear his "pearls"

Loves to cook for you! And he's really good at it too. Will never share his recipes.

Has had intrusive thoughts about sharing you... especially with Muzan. The thought of his master coveting his beloved... *shivers*

Oh but he couldn't bear to see his favorite toy get broken.

He adores you far too much to let anything happen to you.

[runninriot]

written for the @steddiesongfics may prompt

(David Bowie - Absolute Beginners, 1986)

wc: 1986 | rated: t | tags: Steddie in love, newly established relationship, fluff, background characters, Good Uncle Wayne Munson | also on ao3

As long as we’re together, the rest can go to hell

Waking up in Eddie’s arms for the first time feels unreal. Like maybe he’s not really awake after all. Maybe Steve’s still stuck in a beautiful dream and the sound of the other man’s peaceful breathing is just a fragment of his imagination. But he can feel Eddie’s chest rise and fall beneath his head, can feel the comfortable weight of Eddie’s arm on his back, the soothing warmth of his skin.

Maybe it is real.

Maybe they actually, finally got their shit together – as Robin would say.

    God, Robin would be so smug if she could see him right now, nuzzling Eddie’s skin, sinking deeper into the sleeping man’s arms.

She’d known there was something going on, told him so but never pushed. Even before that night Eddie came out to them a few months back. Where Robin told him her secret, too, and Steve didn’t even know he had one of his own to share.

Before Steve realised what that funny feeling was. What it meant to have a riot of butterfly wings create a storm in his stomach, to have his heartbeat set the rhythm to a song he’s never heard before.

Man, she will be so proud of herself when- if they tell her.

They will tell her, right?

They’ll them all – Robin, Nance, the kids...

Dustin.

    Oh God, what will Dustin say if they tell him that they’re-

Together?

Are they together?

Is this- Is this what they are?

It must be, right?

Eddie told him he loves him. Kept repeating the words over and over again between kisses. Said it so many times, Steve had no reason to believe it wasn’t true.

It must be true because Steve wants it to be true.

Eddie is-

This isn’t just a stupid crush, some made-believe infatuation with his high school sweetheart. Steve isn’t a stupidly naive teenager anymore. He knows the difference between simply searching for affection and truly wanting to be with someone.

He is in love with Eddie. That’s a fact. Unshakeable like the fact that water is wet, the sun is hot, and the moon is 238.700 miles away from earth (yes, he does listen to Dustin ramble about his stupid nerd interests sometimes, thank you very much).

He’s in love and although this is all very scary and new, he wants their friends to know about them. Wants them to be happy for them.

But what if they’re not?

What if the fact that he’s in love with another man gives Mike one more reason to hate him? What if Lucas refuses to let Steve coach him because of it? What if it doesn’t work out and Dustin has to choose between him and Eddie? What if-

   “I can hear you think.”

Steve startles when Eddie tightens his arms around him, pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head. And when he looks up at Eddie, Steve finds two sleepy eyes blinking back at him.

   “Morning, baby,” Eddie says through a smile and-

Steve’s heart immediately does that thing again and there’s this familiar feeling in his gut, and Eddie looks so soft in the warm morning light that Steve just can’t not kiss him.

   “Morning,” Steve finally answers when they part – Eddie’s hand still holding his face, beautiful eyes looking right into his soul, and Steve feels like flying.

   “Hm, so that’s not what it’s about, huh?”

Steve’s confused, doesn’t know what Eddie is talking about and it must show on his face because Eddie chuckles before he continues.

   “For a moment I was scared you’ve gotten all nervous and fidgety because you were- I don’t know. That maybe you had doubts. About this?” He moves his free hand between the two of them, pointing at himself and back at Steve.

   “But I guess you kissing me despite my morning breath must mean you-“

Steve shuts him up with another press of lips, morning breath be damned. He won’t give Eddie any reason to even think for another second that he doesn’t want this. Because he does. He wants this, them, together. Probably more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life.

He shakes his head, doesn’t know how to express all those things that are rattling his mind. How to tell Eddie what goes on in his head without stumbling over the words, without twisting his tongue, without making a fool of himself because-

They’ve only just woken up and it’s the first time they’re in bed together and instead of just enjoying the moment, instead of being in the here and now, Steve is already like, 238.700 steps ahead.

   “Talk to me, Stevie. Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

Steve slowly relaxes into the pleasant feeling of Eddie’s fingers gently scraping along the back of his neck like he’s trying to coax the words out of him, trying to help slow down his racing thoughts. And somehow, it works.

   “I was just-“ Steve takes a deep, grounding breath, “I was just wondering if we should tell the others. About us. A-about us being... boyfriends?”

Steve feels heat spreading in his face, feels the blush creep from his cheeks to his ears.

He didn’t mean to make it sound like a question but they haven’t really defined what they are, yet. They’ve been way too busy making out, kissing, touching – God, how could he not have been completely distracted by the way Eddie kissed him. The way he painted his neck in love-coloured bruises. How he worshipped Steve’s whole body with his lips like he was something special, something worth taking his time with.

And oh, his time he took, that teasing bastard. Made it his mission to kiss every goddamn mole and freckle on Steve’s body. Started counting them with his lips, his tongue, tracing his fingers over every inch of his exposed skin. Kissed him where no one had ever kissed him before, his touch so careful and gentle it only made Steve crazy for more, more, more.

By the time Eddie finally put his mouth on him, Steve was already so far gone that it took not even 30 seconds for him to lose it. But then Eddie didn’t give him a chance to feel embarrassed about it, just kept kissing him, touching him, showering him in sweet little nothings that meant everything to Steve.

   “Steve? You with me?”

    Hm? Oh.

   “S-sorry. What did you say?” Steve smiles apologetically, relieved when Eddie chuckles lightly.

   “I said. Yes, boyfriends. If you want that? And yes to telling people. God, I can’t wait to see Dustin’s stupid little face when he hears that I, Eddie Munson, get to date the hottest guy in Hawkins. Hell, the hottest guy in the entire fucking world!”

Eddie balls his fist and punches the air like he’s just won a competition, and the excitement in his voice is infectious, startles a loud and very unsexy snort out of Steve.

   “Take that, Dustin! So much for teasing me for my lack of success in the dating department. Ha! Oh, but Mike will be devastated. Everyone knows he’s got the biggest crush on you.”

   “What?! Shut up, he does not!” Steve is screeching now, tears in his eyes from laughing so hard.

   “You think I’m lying? Ask Lucas! He was the one that told me. Said he doesn’t quite get it but Lucas only has eyes for Max so, of course he doesn’t.”

   “Eddie, stop! I don’t believe it. Mike hates me! Sometimes I could swear he’s doing his best to pretend I don’t even exist.”

   “Tell yourself whatever makes you feel good, baby,” Eddie winks, smiles so bright it’s like he’s the sun himself. Bright like the sun and just as hot.

(How hot is the sun? Dustin will know, he’ll ask him next time he sees him.)

   “Robin will be a tough one, though.”

   “Huh? Robin? She’s literally one of us, Eds. Why should she of all people have any problem with us being together?”

Eddie must sense his concern, because he glides his thumb over Steve’s furrowed brows to smooth out the worry lines, kisses him on the forehead like that’s gonna stop his mind from reeling.

Weirdly enough, it does.

   “Well, duh! She’ll be so happy for you. It’s me I’m worried about.”

Eddie winks at him and that’s when Steve finally catches on. He huffs out a laugh, rolls his eyes in fake-annoyance, can’t not smile when Eddie offers him the saddest, most convincing puppy eyes he’s ever seen.

   “She’s going to kill me if I ever so much as make you mad or, god forbid, sad for whatever reason.”

   “Oh that’s easy to avoid. Just never make me mad or sad and you’ll be fine,” Steve mocks him, knows deep down Eddie would never anyway.

   “What about-“ Steve realises he hasn’t even thought about that before.

They’re at the trailer. Steve heard Wayne come home from his night shift a while ago, knows the man’s still awake, considering the noise coming from the outside Eddie’s bedroom.

   “Do you want to tell Wayne? It’s okay if not. We don’t- We can just pretend nothing has changed. I don’t want him to get mad. Or, or worse.”

Now it’s Eddie’s turn to look worried and Steve gets it. He couldn’t even think about telling his own parents. His father would- No, he’ll just have to keep this from them. Not like they ever really care for what goes on in his life anyway.

   “Come on.”

    What?

Eddie throws back the blanket they shared, leaving them both naked and exposed to the light of the day, the reality of the night before hitting them both with a rush of childish embarrassment, sending a deep blush into both their faces, both not used to being so vulnerably bare in front of each other.

But Eddie seems to regain his composure quickly, untangles from Steve’s arms and jumps out of the bed.

He grabs two pairs of boxers and sweatpants and shirts from his dresser, tossing half of them at Steve who’s still too stunned to speak.

   “Eddie, what-”

   “Hurry up, sweety! I smell coffee.”

Steve follows Eddie, nervously fussing with his hair in a weak attempt to make himself more presentable, less... ‘spent the night making out with your nephew’, hiding behind Eddie when Wayne catches sight of them.

   “Morning boys. Coffee?” The man grumbles, not even batting an eye when Eddie abruptly turns, grabs Steve by the face, and plants a kiss right on his mouth.

   “Yes, please. Me and my boyfriend would love a nice cup of coffee. Don’t we, Stevie?”

Eddie beams at him, a teeth-flashing grin on his face, and Steve wants to kill him. Wants to kiss him even more. Doesn’t know what to say, what to do. Just stands there, frozen in shock, dumbly nodding to answer the question he only vaguely remembers has been asked.

   “I see.” Wayne stands up from the armchair he was sitting in, walks over to them, blank expression on his face.

He exhales deeply and Steve holds his breath, not ready for whatever comes next.

   “Took you long enough to figure it out.”

Eddie shoots his uncle a look, rolls his eyes, scoffs – and Steve feels the weight of a thousand worlds fall off his shoulders.

(How much does one earth weigh? He’ll ask Dustin. Maybe he-)

   “You better treat him right, son. You do not wanna get in trouble with me for hurting him, you hear me?”

Steve’s mouth falls open in disbelief when he realises those words are directed at Eddie and not at him.

That’s what finally cuts the tension. Steve starts laughing, loud and whole-heartedly, feels lighter, better than ever before.

He kisses Eddie again, because he can. They’re in love, and that’s okay.

And as long as they’re together, the rest can go to hell.

[eldritch-spouse]

Man, I want to do a bonding moment with Cero, Patches, Mervin, Morell, Berle, Livius and Vorago by bathing together and washing each other. Like possibly no horny, just me and one of the boys relaxing and washing each other's bodies.

Bathing together (no hanky panky)

Getting Cero to fully relax in a shared bath is hard. He's used to having his own baths at the end of the day, with no one there to bother him, without having to maintain a constant air of immaculateness.

Having you there already makes the process something he needs to "perform" in, thus he's initially slightly irritated. Hence, he insists that you sit between his legs, back turned to him, so that Cero can freely smile and sag and just be a person... He's fairly quiet, for once, and hums to whatever you may ramble about. Bath time is an unwinding moment for him, so it should be one for you too, even if he finds it hard to be completely "mannerless" in front of you. This means that you can swear all you want, make all the dirty jokes and splash around like an animal. Cero will not judge you.

Eventually, he becomes comfortable enough to make his own less than refined quips and air out some of his shortcomings/grievances.

What happens in bath time stays in bath time, do not break this vow or Cero will break some of your bones.

Patches often neglects taking care of himself.

To be fair, given the stagnation of plenty of his bodily functions, it's not as if the dullahan naturally produces foul body odors, but his earthy smell does become more pronounced. You must drag him into a bathtub yourself. Only then will he slump and accept his fate.

Patches is pretty quick in taking care of his own body and mostly makes the whole thing about you. Is he collecting stray hairs that fall as he washes you? Possibly. But he's also just basking in the feeling of cuddling with you in a body of water, which is new entirely to him.

He takes to removing his head, simply because wetting it too much is not ideal to its longevity.

The perks of having Patches around shine here, as he likely has some freaky little magic bathbomb he impulse bought stored somewhere.

Mervin usually has long baths after a headache-worthy job. And he doesn't really advise you join them on those, because he's mostly quiet, possibly wounded, and thinking of everything he just did- If he did anything wrong. That's no mindset to listen to you or even be remotely affectionate.

He has this tendency to make sure the bathroom is spotless before getting in. Because he will not, refuses to, undress in a "stained pigstall". You're the first to come in, undress and get in, he doesn't tell you why he does this but it's the same reason he'll sometimes walk slightly behind his brothers in more crowded zones, to make sure they're safe. Muscle memory. You're forbidden from changing the temperature, if you find it cold then he supposes you can rub up on him for warmth like the needy creature you are.

You're washed first, more gently than you'd expect from him. Mervin repeatedly swats your hands away when you try to return the favor, you'll have to insist until he feigns exhaustion. His pleased rumbling is subtle but definitely audible.

Morell usually doesn't have time for baths, it's all fast showers and walking around kinda wet. But when he does take the time to bathe, especially with you, it's kind of a game.

Rub a dub dub, get yer ass in tha tub- He'll push you in there, don't doubt him. He likes doing this thing where he stays outside the tub while he bathes you, and gets in when he thinks you've been sufficiently scrubbed.

The shroom is either humming or whistling, and it's really bizarre to watch him shake water off his cap. By the way, prime opportunity to touch his neck. Just letting you know. Especially since Morell keeps his eyes mostly closed while you're washing him back.

When he truly relaxes, he's capable of falling asleep holding onto you. Shake him awake before the water gets cold.

Berle is also another one that doesn't usually bathe. He just doesn't have the patience to sit there and stare at the ceiling blowing bubbles.

If you realistically want him to sit still, then let him eat in the tub. This will not have an effect on his digestion. He's going to be his usual chatterbox self and hardly do anything to actually clean either of you until he probably starts feeling a little cold... Berle is unintentionally really fast in his ministrations and may hurt you with his claws, so remind him to calm down every now and then. You are likely to get tickled if you take too long washing him.

Really, Berle is trying really hard to stay in the tub with you and relax, but you can tell his mind drifts off after a while and he's thinking of a million different things he could be doing. It's not your fault, he just can't stay still.

Bathing with Livius is interesting. He tends to let his limbs flop over the edge of the tub.

This is essentially going to be a game of mimic. He only starts washing when you do, following the same order as you and trying to get your timing down. For this reason, you either mutually wash each other at the same time, or he asks you to wash him first.

Livius tries to guess what type of bath bomb you'd like better, or if you'd like any at all. Getting it wrong will have him sulking for a while.

Conversation flows as easily as you allow it to, and he's perfectly fine with allowing you to play with his horns, so long as he gets to play with your ears and nose. It's in moments like this that he truly covets your body. Not necessarily in a carnal way (though the impulse is there), he just loves how you look and wishes to be in your body.

Vorago has written this moment several times. The shared bath between two lovers. Granted, those took place in fairly more fantastical settings, but still, Vorago is very excited. And flustered.

Vorago has to make sure this is perfect for you, but part of him worries that he's being too corny if he goes with too many pink things around or the petals... Lords he really wants to make it a romantic thing but he knows he's going to look like a complete ass. He helps you in like a gentleman and is extremely docile as he washes you, but there's definitely moments where you'll feel him smell you. Vorago can only curb his delight up to a certain point.

Be prepared for the workload if you try to wash him back, because taming his thick and voluptuous hair is a feat. He certainly enjoys it, rumbling deep and loud and probably dark in the face from all the attention. He wishes he could take a photo of this moment, write it all out, it's so perfect. It's beautiful.

[lovingu43vr]

LOVER, YOU SHOULD’VE COME OVER

jasper hale x fem oc

warnings: usual twilight warnings,dramatic Jasper and Oc, Bella.

Summary: Jasper and Luena had a argument years ago. Both of them two proud to say anything.

Broken down and hungry for your love With no way to feed it Where are you tonight?

Jasper and Luena were a couple suitible to be captured and hung in The Lourve. Their beauty seeped far more than physicality the way they loved was beautiful.

2002

"Now why on earth would i do that?" Luena crossed her arms staring at her husband. "You use your gift to manipulate people maybe you manipulated me" Jasper yelled back. "Hypothetically if i did it wouldnt be a bad thing so i tried to stop you ripping peoples heads off" Luena scoffed. She had used her gift of psychokinesis to make Jasper forget hes a vampire. She thought it would help with his blood lust. "YOU DID MANIPULATE ME NOT HYPOTHETICALLY" Jasper was angry. He was beyond angry he was livid. "Jasper i was trying to help, let you feel normal for once" Luena couldn't see Jasper's point. "Yeah well next time stay out of it" Jasper quipped back. "Fine" Luena dramtically grabbed a bag began shoving her clothes in to it. "What are you doing?" Jasper asked. "Staying out of it" Luena gave a tight lipped smile. "Very mature" Jasper scoffed. "Goodbye Jasper" Luena yelled "Bye". the door slammed.

Too young to hold on

And too old to

just break free and run

----------------------------------------------

"Who's that?" Bella asked Edwards pointing to a picture on the mantle piece of Jasper and a Girl. "That's Luena" Edward smiled at the picture of his 'sister'. "Who's Luena?" Bella asked confused she had never heard that name before. "Luena is my wife" Jasper spoke up from the other end of the sofa. "Is she not apart of this coven?" Bella asked the vampires. "Of course she is silly" Alice giggled. "We had an argument, she's been staying with the Denali Coven for a little while" Jasper told the human. Emmett laughed "Sure if four years counts as a little while" Bella gasped. "four years? seriously? how are you not in like mental pain?" Alice answered the question for her 'brother'. "Oh trust me they both are, but they both are also too stubborn to apologise first" Jasper rolled his eyes. "I am not stubborn" Bella smiled "Apologise then" Jasper was speechless. "No"

"point proven"

Sometimes a man gets carried away

When he feels like he should be

having his fun And much too blind

to see the damage he's done

Sometimes a man must awake

to find that really,

has no one.

--------------------------------------------

Jasper sat on his bed looking at the picture album in his hands.

wedding 1950

Jasper smiled. Remembering the day he married the love of his eternal life. His mate. He suddenly felt the guilt. He should have atleast called her. He picked up his phone and clicked call. it rang out three before "hello?" Jasper quickly put the phone down. Before Emmett bust in the room with Rosalie "IDIOT".

--------------------------- Lonely is the room, the bed is made The open window lets the rain in Burning in the corner is

the only one who dreams He had you with him

Luena breathed heavily as she walked up to her home. 'Four years and nothing has changed' she thought as much. She step foot into through the door. "Hello" she called out. "Honey I'm home" she called again. No one was home. 'They must be hunting'.

Luena looked around the home that nothing had changed in. She felt a warm sensation as she saw traces of her sisters around the house. Alice's jewellery. Rosalies' Lip gloss.

"There's someone here" she heard the voice of her sister. she rolled her eyes. "I know i took a little break but god" Luena laughed. Rosalie's jaw dropped. "Luena" she sped toward her. Hugging the girl tightly.

Luena got aquainted with the family again besides Edward,Esme and Jasper who were still out "I cant believe he's dating a human" Luena was dumbfounded. "She's a sweet girl" Carlise couldnt help smiling his family was back in one piece. "sweet treat more like" Luena smirked earning a high five from Emmett. "Haven't lost your touch i see" Emmett teased "Perfection is hard" she dramtically sighed. laughing. smiling. giggling.

"I swear i spend more time here than my own home"

"Oh god" Alice whispered. Bella and Edward came walking through the door. "You guys werent lying she does smell good" Luena whispered. Edwards head shot towards his family at the clear sound of the voice of his Sister. He walked towards then Bella follwing him. "Luena?" Edward smiled hugging his 'sister' Luena smiled pulling out of the hug before slapping his chest. "What.were.you.thinking.a.human.you.idiot."Edward gave a awkward smile. "Bella, Luena, Luena, Bella" Bella was stunned by the beauty of the girl stood infront of her. What baffled Bella most was the freckles that stayed after being turned. Luena smiled at Bella afraid to get to close.

My kingdom for a kiss

upon her shoulder It's never over All my riches for her smiles When I've slept so soft against her

Luena was in Carlise's study when the door opened. "Carlise" she heard an all too familiar voice say. "You wanted to talk" she turned in the seat. Jasper's eyes widened. He was so happy. But then he remembered.

"this was a set up" Luena gave a small smile. Jasper just stared at the girl before turning to the door to find it locked. Cursing under his breathe. He sat as far away from Luena as he could.

hours passed before a quiet "I'm sorry" slipped from Luena's lips. "Sorry for what exactly?" Jasper folded his arms. "Sorry for using my powers on you and trying to make you feel normal" Luena fiddled with her fingers. "I'm sorry" Jasper spoke quietly. "for?" Luena smirked. "For sayign what i said and over reacting when you were just trying to help" it was silent for a moment "i always did say you were a drama queen" Jasper laughed at his wifes remark. "That'd make the two of us Darlin".

It's never over All my blood for the sweetness of her laughter It's never over She is the tear that hangs inside my soul forever

Luena walked over to her husband as he opened his arms. she wrapped her arms around him before placing her head on his chest. The two Vampires felt a weight being lifted off. Their hearts were one again, Luena lifted her head and planted a soft kiss on Jaspers lips.

the door swang open. "See behave like kids, treat them like kids" Rosalie quipped. "Peace is restored" Esme smiled, "Seriously, never leave again he's been a total nightmare" Emmetts eyes widened. "Worse than Edward?" Luena winced. "Almost, it was a close call" the bear like man admitted. She looked at her husband who had a small smirk "What can i say the best part of me left"

Oh, love, well I've waited for you Lover, lover, lover Lover, love, love, love, love,

love, love! Lover, you should've come over 'Cause it's not too late

[cabbageheadss]

'Sometimes a man must awake to find that really, he has no-one' - Jeff Buckley

[oysterspearl]

sometimes a man must awake

to find that really, he has no one

day 4: sabotage

[sho3to]

lover, you should've come over, 'cause it's not too late. | g. weasley

burning in the corner is the only one who dreams he had you with him. george weasley never wanted to be in love. but that day—that one special day from his first year that he'll forever hold dear - is when he caught a glimpse of your bewitching eyes and those stray ethereal curls he dreamt so much of touching. to hold you was to go to heaven—or so he said.

lonely is the room, the bed is made, the open window lets the rain in. each passing moment with you was eternal—those moments when he touched you, when he felt like he wasn't a half of a whole; like he was his own person, only associated with you.

sometimes a man gets carried away when he feels like he should be having his fun, much too blind to see the damage he's done. there was this fight between the two of you, right before the great war. you knew there would be consequences in participating in it, whilst he was ever the griffindor—always fearless and courageous. he could remember your sad words of goodbye that night; when you held him so tightly whispering words of sugariness althought you made it very clear that you were on different sides. be brave, griffindor. be strong as the walls you've built around your heart.

his body turns, and yearns for a sleep that won't ever come. he could never live that way again. his old, carefree ways spent with his dear departed brother, fred—all gone. and the worse of all, you weren't there. you'll never be there again. all the sadness and destruction that happened in his life was all because he chose to stray away from you; from the everlasting sweetness you had provided his life. all gone, all gone.

sometimes a man must awake to find that, really he has no one. as he spent a whole year alone, with weasley's wizarding wheezes closed and his time spent all on trying to move on—he couldn't. he sees and hears and reads your name everywhere, may it be on the daily prophet where he reads that your family has moved on, or in his mother's mouth when she casually mentions that you have visited the burrow when he wasn't around. he hears your voice at his sister's pre-recorded messages from you, which contained all the sweet, kind words he wanted to hear. you were everywhere.

oh, love, well, he's waited for you. those months he spent with angelina—his brother's past girlfriend were only temporary soltitude; whilst his mind's peace when he was around you lasted forevermore. he couldn't help but compare your smile with her's, and how his words for angelina never seemed genuine. he felt like angelina, too, was looking for something she could never get back. and like two kindred souls, they decided being lonely together was better than mourning fred alone. it was too fast to be healthy for the both of them, and they knew that very well. so when things took a turn and they fighted, fighted, and fighted—he remembered you and how you fought, fought, and fought. all his fault.

sweet lover, you should've come over. him and angelina eventually separated, and his feet found itself on your door. he knocked, three times—your lucky number. and as soon as you opened the door, he begged, begged and begged.

"i know—i know that i am not worthy of standing at your door, but my love— let me; let me fall in love with you once more; not one single moment did i stop— so that i can truly prove to you that i am."

[lu-dao-writes]

— 𝐀 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐎𝐟 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 (𝘼𝙡𝙥𝙝𝙖!𝘾𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙤 𝙆𝙖𝙢𝙤)

꒰ྀི ᥫ᭡ 𝙎𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 Despite being semi aware of his and his siblings existence, that’s all he knows. Choso not only has to navigate being fully alive, but he has to understand his role as the older brother, and understand his role as an alpha.

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) Omegaverse/ABO dynamics, SPOILERS, scenting, nesting, Kenjaku and him being a questionable dad, Mahito being… himself really, mentions of sex/ heats and ruts, mentions of porn watching, gn!reader, reader is Gojo’s sibling (you decide if biological or not), reader’s dynamic is not specified but hinted you’re either an alpha or omega, angst, bittersweet ending, vague threat alluding to sa not made by Choso but Kenjaku, grief.

𝘼/𝙉 It’s finally here (on my tumblr anyway lol)! This is more of a character study for Choso that I wanted to do, and because I also wanted to do an omegaverse piece. Reader and Choso interact later down the line, and the last bit is just the Reader’s perspective. Not too confident with the last bit but I’m ready to be done lol. Idk if I should have the minors dni warning cause there’s nothing super explicit here, but I’d say this is probably for a mature audience? I’ll be lenient but I’d rather not see a 13 year old like this🤣. But I hope y’all enjoy this! Also thank you for your patience!𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ ꒱ྀི

꒰ྀི𝙒𝘾: 5,232 ꒱ྀི

꒰ྀི 𝙏𝙖𝙜(𝙨) 🏷️ ꒱ྀི @staygoldsquatchling02

THE first breath of life is usually a special, momentous moment.

Sometimes it’s the start of a miserable existence where a soul must struggle before finding the sweet taste of… Whatever it is.

But for Chōsō, it’s more disorienting than anything, and the main thing on his mind is his family.

Chōsō and the rest of his siblings have been aware of each other, almost as if they’re connected by a mind link, but there’s no words to be said nor heard. It’s just a faint thrumming, almost like the thin strands of a spider's web being plucked.

The death painting cared not for anything else outside of his siblings.

That is until he had to when he took his first official breath.

Chōsō awakens to two people in front of him; two men with various smiles plastered on their faces. One a mild smile with slight interest in his eyes with ink black hair cascaded down past his shoulders, a scar across his forehead and dressed in some traditional getup.

And the other has giddy, dual colored eyes seemingly bright with.. Something that makes him feel a bit uncomfortable. He’s got dull blue hair and stitches in various spots on his body.

After briefly studying their appearance, scents infiltrate his nose. A wave of multiple things and so overwhelmingly strong that it makes his skin itch and belly clench.

On one hand there’s a mix of spicy, and smoky with hints of sweetness, and on the other hand it’s sour and bittersweet.

Chōsō covers his nose before becoming slightly infatuated with his new appendage. Too pale skin with a few bulging veins. He wiggles his fingers before a voice finally speaks up.

“You’re finally awake, Chōsō,” the dark haired man speaks, his voice giving Chōsō the feeling like something creeps up his spine, but he’s not sure if it’s a pleasant feeling or something dreadful.

Chōsō blinks at him cluelessly, purple eyes mirroring each other as they look at one another, but eventually Chōsō can see a hint of delight in the others eyes, but his face remains composed.

The man with the stitches giggles, the sound being higher pitched compared to the ink haired man.

Chōsō looks at the other with a bit of confusion.

“Ignore him, but I’ll cut to the chase. Your name is Chōsō and you are the oldest of 9 siblings.”

Chōsō finds himself nodding, being aware of this knowledge, but he does not interrupt him.

“Behind you are Esō and Kechizu.”

Chōsō whips his head around, his heart swelling as he watches the vessels slowly morph until they’re at their final shape.

His beloved younger brothers…

The reasons for him to strive to be the best role model and pave the right path for them and them alone, no matter the mistakes he’s bound to make.

His responsibility…

“You are responsible for them and each other,” the man continued from behind him.

The man with dual colored eyes wanders closer, crouching down near Esō and Kechizu. He reaches out and pokes at them carelessly, the action infuriating Chōsō to a high degree. He acts before he could comprehend what he's doing, his hand smacking the other’s away and a rancorous snarl spilling from within his throat, startling himself. His eyes are wide and he touches his throat, the pad of his middle, ring, and index fingers pressing at his Adam’s apple.

The man that was prodding at his brothers only cackles. “Oh, he didn’t like that!”

“Mahito, I suggest not testing him too much. He’s an alpha that doesn’t know how to control himself, and I certainly won’t help if you get hurt because you couldn’t stop running your mouth,” the other man warns, not sounding concerned in the slightest.

The unserious man, Mahito, scoffs. “Oh please, Getō, I’m not scared of some untrained alpha mutt.”

Chōsō is left even more confused, but he’s not insulted, instead he focuses on hovering over his brothers, not wanting Mahito to touch them again.

Now that he’s more present, he can tell who’s smell is who. Mahito’s is the one that smells sour and bittersweet, while Getō is the smoky, sweet and spicy one. It’s still overwhelming to smell them both, the urge to snap at both of them was strong, but he was not going to break composure again unless necessary.

Esō and Kechizu’s scents were slowly coming to life, their scents not being bothersome to Chōsō.

Esō smells faintly of something soft, floral, and sweet, but underneath that it’s death.

And Kechizu’s scent is earthy, metallic, and also smells of death underneath it all, but his scent is not as strong as everyone else’s.

They’re perfect in his eyes.

Chōsō holds their hands as they wake up, his gaze almost blank but there’s a touch of softness there in those dark purple eyes of his.

“Hello younger brothers,” he greets, his voice dull while his hands hold theirs tenderly.

“You’re Esō,” he directs to his brother who looks like an unearthly human.

He then looks to his other brother who looks less human. “And you’re Kechizu.”

Esō and Kechizu smile at him and wrap their arms around him, their scents meshing together and onto each other’s skin like a semi permanent tattoo.

Seeing their smile, and feeling their warmth… Chōsō wants to make sure he keeps them safe and happy.

Mahito scoffs and Chōsō is alerted.

“Chōsō is the only one that looks good. How come the other two look so gross?”

Another cord of uncontrollable anger surges through him, but he restrains himself enough that only a small growl leaves his throat, purple eyes glaring pins and needles into Mahito who looks like he couldn’t care less.

Esō’s scent suddenly grows foul, permeating through the room and alerting everyone.

It further pisses Chōsō off but before he could lose the little amount of control he has, Getō cuts in calmly.

“Where are my manners? I’m Getō Suguru, and I’m sure you heard me address him as Mahito. Before we let the three settle in I have more to discuss with you.”

Chōsō noticed while Getō was talking that he had a way to command his attention even though Chōsō was far more focused on making sure his brothers were okay, especially Esō.

Getō goes on to talk about his plans for the world and wants them to join in his cause. Chōsō frankly does not care, as long as he and his siblings can live peacefully in this “new world”.

“We’ll join under one condition,” Chōsō declared once Getō was finished with his speech.

Said man’s smile grows an inch. “Go on and name your condition.”

Chōsō speaks firmly, never once wavering as he and Getō stare each other in the eyes. “As long as my brothers, as well as our other siblings, can live peacefully in the end of all of this, we’ll cooperate.”

Getō looks like he expected nothing less from the ill looking man. “I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

Seeming that it seems to be a deal, he nods before speaking again. “Now then, what is with you calling me an alpha?”

“Ah yes! I will give you books on your biologies and as well as get you and Esō the proper medications you’ll need.”

Mahito gags, toying with his hair. “Those pesky suppressants. Who even needs those when they end up becoming a problem later?”

Chōsō’s eyes fly open with alarm, his purple orbs darting over to Getō and narrowing slightly, silently demanding an explanation.

Getō waves off his gaze, still having that carefree expression of his. “That’s years and years down the line.” Then he suddenly pins Chōsō with a knowing stare, looking a little arrogant now. “Esō is an omega and without them he could get hurt. You wouldn’t want that now would you?”

Chōsō swallows and only gives him a stiff nod, the terms still lost on him, but if the medication can keep Esō stable for now, that’s all he needs to know. He’ll figure out another solution later when he’s more knowledgeable.

Getō then guides the three beings into a room and inside there’s a large bed, small wooden desks beside the bed, light fixtures, a tv, empty bookshelf, a standing mirror, and a fuzzy couch. On the bed there’s a pile of random articles of clothing and some shoes that the siblings wander over to.

“This will be your living space, when you’re able to go outside feel free to buy anything to liven the place up more,” Getō advises, remaining at the doorway. “I’ll let you three get dressed and I’ll be back shortly.”

The siblings don’t acknowledge him, focused on finding the right pieces of clothing for themselves.

And Chōsō finally runs into his first problem as an older brother. When Esō was trying his first set of clothes on, he was absolutely horrified when he saw what was on his back. His scent soured and stunk up the room, drowning Chōsō and Kechizu.

Esō moves away from the standing mirror, keeping his back away from his brothers, his eyes slightly welling up. “I look disgusting!” he gasps, a million thoughts and scenarios passing through his eyes and it makes Chōsō panic and clam up. He wants to help him immediately, but when he takes a step towards him, he’s lost on what to even say.

“Esō don’t be so harsh on yourself. Kechizu nor I even batted an eye on what’s on your back. You’re not disgusting,” Chōsō explains to him, his voice blunt but with a twinge of gentleness.

Esō's expression softens but he looks off to the side, his attention elsewhere again. He shakes his head and moves to the pile of clothes again. “Please.. Don’t look at my back.”

“But-.”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Please, Ani…”

Chōsō wants to push, but hearing the pleading in Esō’s voice makes him reluctantly sigh and let it go. He only wants to make his brothers happy, and if Esō doesn’t want to talk about it, fine. He’ll have to trust that whenever Esō’s ready he’ll come talk to him.

“I don’t think I want to wear any of these,” Kechizu chimes in before the silence could swallow them. “It’s not like I’ll be able to walk out in public anyways,” he adds with a shrug and tossing the shirt in his hand, not having a care in the world about that fact.

Chōsō hopes that Kechizu keeps that attitude because he doesn’t even know how to help Esō with his current situation.

“That’s fine,” Chōsō murmurs, admiring some boots that were on the bed.

Once dressed to their liking, Esō’s smell had gradually turned back to normal, easing the other two.

“Are you both comfortable?” Chōsō checks in.

“We’re fine!” Esō replies while Kechizu nods with a smile. “Are you?”

Chōsō nods with a hum. “I want you both to have the bed. The couch will be fine with me.”

They tried to argue and insist that he could also take the bed with them, but Chōsō insisted that he already took a liking to the couch anyways. Since the younger siblings knew there was no way to change Chōsō’s mind, they give up, settling down onto the bed.

“What do you think of all of this?” Esō eventually asks.

“All I care about is my family,” Chōsō answers without hesitation. “We live for each other, and as your older brother I’ll do my best to keep you both happy and safe.”

‘I will set a good example for them like I’m meant to. Even if I stumble along the way..’

“And we’ll keep you safe and happy!” Kechizu declares with Esō nodding with his arms crossed.

“That won’t be necessary but I appreciate it,” he says softly, lips curling up slightly. “Your happiness makes me happy.”

Suddenly there’s a knock at the door before it opens, revealing Getō with books and a bag of medicine in hand like he promised. “Here you all go,” he says, handing them off to Chōsō.

Chōsō stares at the book that was on top: “Alpha Biology 101 For Dummies.”

“Whenever you three are ready the rest of us will be out here,” he says before gliding away once more.

As Chōsō learns to grasp what life is now for him and his brothers, he soon learns the meaning of what are alphas, betas, and omegas.

Kechizu is a beta. People with this dynamic don’t have to take suppressants like alphas and omega have to to regulate sexual urges. Their scent is not as overpowering, and… Well… In simple terms they’re basic.

Not his words.

Now onto omegas. Omegas were highly sought after, spoken of like they’re prized treasures. They have heats that occur and are said to be “submissive” and the “caregivers” of society. Lot of the texts in the books he was given speak of omegas being frail and are made to be infantilized. It was weird, and it made him feel dread in the pit of his gut as he thought of either of his brothers being treated that way.

Chōsō was conflicted about what was being told to him from the books, and his own analysis from being around his brothers, Mahito, and omegas outside the hideout.

Mahito and Esō were not submissive. While Esō is sensitive that does not mean that he’s submissive. He’s clever and likes to dominate the room and anyone that tries to walk over him. Just as long as no one speaks or gazes upon the face on his back he’s fine.

Mahito… He’s playful, sadistic, and dominates the room, especially those he considers inferior. He’s anything but fragile and doesn’t need protection. The world is his playground and he doesn’t care who gets hurt or what gets broken by him.

Chōsō knows there’s not a caring bone in his body.

If anything.. Kechizu, despite being a beta, had what the textbook would describe as “omegan behavior”…

Even while he people watched he could see that what was said in the textbook was so… Wrong. Outdated.

It all just seems to be one big insult to omegas while only slightly uplifting them.

But Chōsō takes the basics so that he’s got a foot to stand on when taking care of Esō's and his omegan needs. And of course he made mistakes along the way, and at first he’s hard on himself when it comes to forgiveness.

Esō likes to nest with minimalistic things, even though he’s somewhat forced too since the brothers don’t have much to begin with. Esō also isn’t a perfectionist when it comes to his nest. He just wants one or two items that belong to his brothers and somewhere comfortable. He’s not big on constant need of physical touch, something he snapped at Chōsō for when he tried to coddle him a little too much. He does however like to wear bracelets that have Chōsō and Kechizu’s scent on them. It’s something he never likes to take off unless they need to be rescented. Those bracelets keep him happy just as much as being in his brother’s presence.

But finally onto alphas…

Alphas seemingly have too much power. They’re viewed as dominant, aggressive, and almost as gods, and the superior beings of the world. Like omegas they have heats, but they’re called ruts.

But once again, Chōsō goes off what he sees amongst Getō, Jōgo, himself, and people outside.

Chōsō has yet to really lose his senses, unless it comes to his family. But he’s not possessive of anything, outwardly aggressive, and he doesn’t even look like a typical alpha, something Jōgo mumbled about once with Mahito also agreeing halfheartedly.

Chōsō also doesn’t bother to assert himself when it comes to Jōgo or Getō.

Jōgo every now and then tries it, but Getō asserts himself elegantly without doing much effort, and he mocks Jōgo when he fails.

There’s also a big aspect on sexual urges and he himself hasn’t crossed that path and neither has his brothers.

Even when he accidentally walked in on Mahito cackling about the porn he was watching- although the obscene noises startled him- it overall did nothing to him.

Briefly he does wonder if something is wrong with him, but in the end he doesn’t care enough. He appreciates that he doesn’t have to deal with it because it’ll just get in his way.

Chōsō believes he has a decent understanding of all the dynamics, but he has no interest in telling anyone how they should behave. It’s not his place and he sees no point in it.

People watching has helped, but soon it starts to take a toll on him. Looking at the humans… He has no hatred towards them, but looking at them constantly reminds him how his other siblings will not be welcomed. Only he can walk around without much problem, and that sucks.

So eventually he stops going out so much, keeping himself at the hideout and leaving only when necessary.

He just hopes that following Getō’s plans doesn't come to bite him in the ass later…

But unfortunately the universe isn’t so kind to him. While playing a silly little board game with the other residents, Chōsō feels like his heart was being gripped so tight while simultaneously being slowly torn apart and beating rapidly, his mind flashing with images. He ignores Mahito’s whining and barely even moved to respond to Getō when he asked if he was okay.

“Both… Both of my brothers just died,” he says, his voice heavy. His scent is sour and oozing from him, causing Mahito to complain more before he’s distracted by something Getō says.

Chōsō breaks through the static when he feels Getō’s hand on his shoulder, gazing at him with a slight look of sympathy. The game board was already cleared up and everyone else was gone, leaving them alone.

“Let’s go retrieve their bodies,” Getō orders lightly.

Chōsō blinks at him, a little stunned he’s willing to even do that for him. He just nods, his throat thick with saliva. Or maybe it’s bile.

As they walk together Getō never once walks ahead, just remains at Chōsō’s side. His scent wraps around him as if to comfort him, and he still doesn’t know what to make of it, but it does keep him grounded and… It feels nice.

But surely he’s not trying to act like a father to him. Getō’s not soft either.

Chōsō pushes it aside for now the moment he sees his dead brothers laid up next to one another. That’s when the tears suddenly came.

Tears continuously drip down his pale cheeks, never ceasing even as he tries to swipe them away. He falls to his knees and hugs their bloodied bodies into him, sobbing and begging for their forgiveness for not being there and saving them.

He felt their fear and it was sickening. He felt everything up until they took their last breaths.

Chōsō whimpers that he’ll avenge them. He’ll slaughter Yūji Itadori and Nobara Kugisaki for what they’ve done.

Getō watches with a soft expression, his lips quirked just slightly with wicked twinkle in his eyes. He reaches over to lightly ruffle Chōsō’s head, comforting him and letting him grieve.

After properly burying his brothers, Chōsō started caring less and less about the plain, the only thing truly fueling him being revenge.

So during the fight with Gojō Satoru in the Shibuya subway he hardly put much effort into it, letting Jōgo and Hanami take the lead and do the heavy lifting.

From Getō, Chōsō has been made aware just how strong he is, and Chōsō has no wish to die by his hands. His quarrel is not with him and he doesn’t want Gojō to be in his way.

Especially not when he’s so close to his brothers’ killers.

Just when Chōsō can find himself falling asleep due to sheer boredom and from his legitimate lack of sleep, a sudden scent wafts in the air and punches him straight in the lungs, his pupils slowly widening. There’s a sudden electricity running through his veins and he’s become alert, head swiveling around.

It’s a scent so alluring and it floats around the subway, slowly becoming stronger, and standing out amongst the gore and sour rot. It comes closer until his head is snapped to the side, a foot quite literally snapping him out of it.

Chōsō grunts as he crashes to the ground, and when he looks at his attacker he’s once again stupefied.

“This right here is Gojō Satoru’s sibling. A special grade just like him. Do be careful if you happen to cross paths,” Getō warns before slipping the photo back into his pocket.

Chōsō only grunts, his disinterested eyes moving off to the side.

The air around them is almost electric and soon enough the light overhead bursts, but neither flinch.

Chōsō assumes it’s the youngest Gojō’s technique, but he’s not certain, nor does he dwell on it for long, his brain becoming inebriated from the scent.

Neither move and the once fierce expression on the other’s face slowly morphs into one of trepidation, scent souring and causing him such great discomfort that he lets out a timorous whine he couldn’t withhold.

Chōsō’s skin suddenly becomes hot, tingling all throughout his limbs, and something stirs to life deep within himself.

Those pretty eyes still have him locked in place before they’re gone within a blink of an eye.

“Satoru!”

The ever thinning bit of control he has is snapping thread by thread, and he’s down to the last few strings.

“Y/N, for once just listen to me and get the hell out of here! Go warn the others, I’ll be fine!”

Dark purple eyes watch as Gojō Y/N struggles for a moment before unwillingly turning tail to leave the scene, effortlessly blasting away any trouble that stood in the way. Chōsō was surprised that Getō even allowed it to happen.

But that’s beside the point. The moment the younger Gojō disappeared, Chōsō felt like everything was going to collapse around him, his mind struggling to stay coherent and rational, his scent unknowingly stinking up the room.

Find Gojō Y/N and cage the sorcerer in his arms.

‘Follow the scent, take Gojō Y/N, keep safe. Don’t let Y/N die like I let my brothers die.’

Despite wanting to give chase, the small, single strand of sanity left in him told him not to do such a thing. He’d be what he’d criticized other Alphas for. He may be half curse but he’s no insatiable animal.

“Woah,” he heard Mahito remark. “Looks like we’ve got a problem. Chōsō seems to have finally hit his rut! Talk about bad timing!”

‘Rut? This is what a rut feels like..?’

“Is that so?” Getō croons, with a wicked look of delight. He studies Chōsō’s panting figure before taking a peek back at a shaken Satoru.

“Pfft, it was all because of Gojō Y/N! That’s hilarious! Are you a masochist, Chōsō since you’re getting all excited from a kick to the face? Priceless!” Mahito giggles.

Chōsō can see Satoru begin to struggle even more despite it being futile, he’s bound up so tight and soon going to be swallowed into the prison realm. He’s snarling furiously and his feet even manage to crack a few tiles underneath him, but Chōsō can tell from his panting there’s a bit of panic.

For a moment Chōsō can get him. His family is possibly in danger and he can do nothing but struggle.

He’s mildly offended though since the last thing he wants to do is hurt the ones he’s drawn to. But he understands so he doesn’t take it to heart.

Chōsō’s attention soon goes back to Getō who throws his head back, laughter spilling his lips. “Oh, this is unexpected!”

The laughter only pisses Satoru off and excites Mahito. And meanwhile Chōsō is left with anticipation along with the others.

After his fit of laughter Getō hums with amusement and turns to look at Chōsō, smiling oh so sweetly with an evil twinkle in his eyes. “Well, go on then, Chōsō.”

Chōsō blinks, hearing his own ragged breathing and the permission granted from Getō.

“Go on and hunt Y/N down if you wish. It’s a shame I couldn’t capture them both, but this can work just as well if you capture—.”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Satoru practically howls, nearly foaming at the mouth.

But Getō ignores him, still staring daggers into Chōsō’s eyes. “Go, Chōsō. Take what’s yours.”

Chōsō feels disgust bubbling in his gut at his words, feeling that the ravenette meant something more sinister when he told him that. But he takes this chance and runs, wanting to find the person that triggered his rut and hope the ache goes away. He also hopes he can keep himself together.

You sprint like you never have before, the wind smacking your face and your lungs beginning to burn. Your heartbeat is like thunderous drums and the air doesn’t seem breathable to you.

That scent.

The scent of elderberries, a pinch of spice, and a touch of blood…

It’s imprinted in your mind no matter how much you try to forget it.

There’s just no way that he’s your fated one.

The universe truly likes to play wicked games…

What’s worse is that it seems like your meeting has brought upon his rut. You just hope to god that your cycle won’t come about from this.

You always take your medication, never missing a beat, but when alphas and omegas typically meet their fated pair or pairs it sometimes doesn’t matter, a cycle may or may not occur.

The best case for you obviously is that if you do hit your cycle, it comes after the battle. If you’re still alive anyways..

So you keep your fingers crossed and push it aside, trying to find the nearest group around.

And thankfully it’s Nanami’s you run into.

Just as you’re about to break the news you’re swiftly cut off by Yūji bellowing out that your brother has been sealed from atop a building.

It makes your chest ache at the news.

“Yeah… S’what I wanted to say,” you pant.

“There’s still hope since we have you here,” Nanami soothes while striding up to you, keeping calm and collected as he typically did.

“There’s just one more problem..”

“And that is?”

“I… I ran into an alpha who’s in a rut,” you explain, leaving out the crucial detail so as to not embarrass yourself. “And he may or may not be coming after me. I didn’t stop to check because Satoru really wanted me out of there,” you continue before gasping, a familiar face appearing in your mind.

“Oh shit! Kento, I just remembered! Suguru— no .. Someone wearing his face is the one behind this.”

Nanami’s eyes widen just a tad and a heavy sigh leaves him. Ino and Megumi both also become alarmed in various degrees.

“That truly is a problem for us all… Here.” The blond alpha rubs his wrist glands against the ones at your neck, dousing you in his comforting scent and slowly muting out yours.

Megumi even comes over and rubs his and your wrists together, not saying a word and not meeting your appreciative stare.

Meanwhile, Yūji is still yodeling.

“Thanks, Gumi. Go ahead and get Yuji,” you tell him softly, ruffling the young alpha’s spiky hair.

The teenager only nods before heading off to get to his friend.

Ino comes over and slings an arm around you for support and to subtly put his own scent on you while Nanami’s nose twitches a few times.

“Your scent should be muted enough, and I’m sure blood and sweat will cover it even more so you should be okay.”

“Thanks, you guys didn’t have to,” you murmur with a weak smile, anxiety still nipping at your heels.

“What did he look like,” asks the blond as you three head up to meet Yuji.

“Dude looks like he’s on death’s doorstep. Like sickly pale looking, dark bags under his eyes, cute spiky space buns, and he’s wearing mostly white and got a purple vest.”

He hums. “Noted. Try to stay with someone if you can.”

You nod. Simple enough but not completely possible.

And as expected you were practically everywhere in Shibuya as the battle ensued, curses swarming the city and people that’s still within the veil being in danger.

You do your best to keep everyone safe, especially the kids, but when the ground underneath you suddenly gets sliced along with a street sign, you throw yourself down the subway where Yūji went not too long ago, slaughtering curses that stood in your way

The underground transit is in complete disarray. Broken glass, walls dented and crumblings, electrical wiring exposed and popping, and blood splattered almost everywhere like it was some art project and the blood is red paint.

Suddenly a wall that connected from the bathroom crumbles away slightly, revealing a bit of pink hair peeking from the other side.

Your feet are already moving, Yūji’s name nearly falling from your lips as dread grips you tight and unforgivingly.

And there’s that smell again, only this time it’s ten times stronger…

Right as you get inside you see the man from before standing over Yūji’s body seemingly about to deliver the killing blow.

Fated person or not, no one was going to hurt the people you care about.

So with your technique you manipulate the water spurting out from the pipes and use it to lock onto the man’s throat, and with an aggravated cry you swing him around and throw him through the wall he made Yuji hit, feeling an immense amount of satisfaction from the pained cry he made.

With him being spat out on the other side seemingly laid out for now and away from Yūji, you rush to cradle the young omega’s bloodied body, fretting over him and trying to figure out how to deal with his shoulder.

You don’t have much to help him and you snap at Sukana to do something, but the bastard for once doesn’t have anything smart to say, the boy still unconscious and bleeding. You pick him up and rush out of the bathroom when a voice stops you in your tracks.

“W-Wait… Please don’t… Don’t go…”

A mixture of anger, stress, and touch of guilt form a cocktail in your gut at his wheezing, panic filled voice.

You hear him dragging his body desperately amongst the rubble to try and get to you.

“You must got a few loose screws in that head of yours,” you spit, turning to look at him.

“N-No, please I—! I had no idea he’s my brother!” he coughs, his pale lips stained with blood.

Your stiffen, your grip on the wounded boy tightening slightly. Either he’s really lost it , or… No, he’s definitely lost it.

“Please I—.”

“ I can’t help you ,” you force out. “Especially when you’re currently the enemy .” And with that, you force your feet to move, leaving him behind.

And Chōsō only watches you with a helpless expression, tears stinging his eyes and a pained noise leaving him as he gives up…

[illaisland]

Hi @catharsisxf ! Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays, pal (affectionate)! I am not much of a writer (or a visual artist tbh), but I tried to make a few things I thought you'd like based on your secret santa survey answers. My apologies for not being very consistent with the daily well wishes, but I hope these past few weeks have been easier/lighter for you. <3 Gifts for you are under the break...

Gift one:

I made a series of images based on a line from a scene you liked in "The Unnatural" where Mulder is encouraging Scully to forget about her worries and focus on hitting the ball/having fun/enjoying life. I found a manip where they are kissing in that scene and modified it further.

With the quote:

Without any text:

And i also made a terrible picmix version for giggles. The watermark covered the quote cuz I didn't how picmix works. 😅🙃

Gift 2:

I also made you a video based on a Jeff Buckley song, however, Kapwing decided to cockblock me and wouldn't let me download what I created for you. So I had to screen record it. Which means the audio is *TERRIBLE* and the already iffy resolution quality is also not good. So, I apologize again for such a macaroni fridge art ass gift, but I tried, friend. ���� 😓 The video I made:

The song and lyrics that inspired it:

Lover, You Should've Come Over

Jeff Buckley

Looking out the door I see the rain Fall upon the funeral mourners Parading in a wake of sad relations As their shoes fill up with water

Maybe I'm too young To keep good love from going wrong But tonight you're on my mind So... you'll never know

Broken down and hungry for your love With no way to feed it Where are you tonight? Child, ya know how much I need it

Too young to hold on And too old to just break free and run

Sometimes a man gets carried away When he feels like should be having his fun Much too blind to see the damage he's done Sometimes a man must awake to find that Really he has no one

So I'll wait for you, love And I'll burn Will I ever see your sweet return? Oh, will I ever learn? Oh-oh, lover, you should've come over 'Cause it's not too late

Lonely is the room, the bed is made The open window lets the rain in Burning in the corner is the only one who dreams He had you with him

My body turns And yearns for a sleep that won't ever come It's never over My kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder It's never over All my riches for her smiles When I've slept so soft against her It's never over All my blood for the sweetness of her laughter It's never over She is the tear that hangs inside my soul forever

Oh, but maybe I'm just too young To keep good love from going wrong

Oh-oh-oh, lover You should've come over, yeah, yes Yes, I feel too young to hold on And much too old to break free and run Too deaf, dumb and blind to see the damage I've done Sweet lover, you should've come over

Oh, love, well I've waited for you Lover, lover, lover Lover, love, love, love, love, love, love! Lover, you should've come over 'Cause it's not too late

[amourlyns]

❛ red striped rhapsody. ❜ ➜ ⁽ masterlist ⁾

𐙚 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕: +fem!nonsorcerer reader. in which the reader has recurring visions of gojo satoru. and after three years of not seeing one another, they meet once more. but, unfortunate circumstances.

✧ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: suggestive content, proceed with caution. mentions of drinking, blood & gore, kissing & sensual touching, metaphors of sex. season two & jjk0 spoilers. past satosugu if you really squint! satoru coping in shitty ways!!!

𐙚 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: songs to listen to by the acts: 001. star girl interlude by lana del ray & the weeknd. i feel it coming by the weeknd & daft punk. fragile by tatsuro yamashita. is it a crime by sade. 002. i put a spell on you by nina simone. run by hozier + 505 by the arctic monkeys + fun fact, this was going to be a nanami fic but gojo felt more fitting 💁🏾‍♀️. anyways this took forever to finish but i kept adding more elements, let me know what you think about this fic !!! i had an amazing time writing it, im proud of this one. 🫦🫦 lmk how the characterization is too!

⟡ ⠀ | 𝐇𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐲, 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐩—𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫. The mind. The brain. The meat. Oh, God. The rawness of this love will devour you whole.

He comes to you in hazy apparitions conjoined by the sun and moon. It’s sticky and sweet. His very touch taints. And the fingers on your warm subtle flesh seem to sink bone deep. The two of you merge into one being.

Then, he vanishes.

You’re awake now, damp in a cold sweat. Linen sheets are stained with perspiration. Your hair is mussed and your sheets remain frazzled after your unpleasant awakening. You’re alone, and you always will be.

Alone, in a bed that’s too spacious for your liking. Alone in a city you don’t belong in. Alone, in a flat you could barely call home. The bleak, undecorated landscape of your bedroom seems to mock you in this light. The faint humming of your fridge finds its way to your hollow walls, the tick of the clock seeps into your pores.

Must it always be this way? Should you continue on with the little fissures and pathways that lead him to you? Sometimes, he just felt all consuming. Like a catalyst meant to crave.

Your chest heaves and your world seems to crash all at once. It’s the same man. Every. Damn. Time. Your mind and body betrays you. Images of the stranger you called yours seemed to appear every night. Memories and unresolved feelings you desperately try to bury.

You could recall it now.

It was the year 2016 in some bar in Tokyo. The club is illuminated by multicolored, neon lights. A spectacle to behold under kaleidoscope flashes. You’re immersed with the electric current of the crowd. Buzzed with the alcohol that flows in your veins. Lead on by straight adrenaline from the party and the man you claimed as yours tonight.

Your two bodies seemed to drift towards each other.

Something magnetic is leading you towards the man that shined like a beacon within the crowd. He practically demands to be seen, his presence is everything but timid. He wants to be seen, desired and admired. Adore me, see me, crave me. Paying him mind was your first mistake.

Underneath the sanctuary of his shades. He’s a man graced with azure hues only the heavens could dream of matching, carved with aquamarine. You catch them under the vivid lighting. His skin resembles opal. For a moment, he feels untouchable. Maybe it’s his presence, how he carries himself⸻ but his energy is so immense. It’s overwhelming. Suffocating.

You move towards him anyways.

He lures you in with ease. You were pliable, obedient. Encaptured by this stranger of the night. Willing to listen to his beck and call.

You slide into the nearest seat, tensions are high and sweat slicks down the back of your dress. Your breathing becomes uneven (…) were you holding your breath before? It must’ve been the alcohol. The adrenaline maybe? The atmosphere even. You would use any excuse to deny the feeling this man evoked within you, to give into his charms.

His lips seem to glisten under the glint of neon lights, they’re covered in remnants of his drink of choice. (You would order the same), matching his body language. Leaning towards, sprawling out your limbs in a similar lackadaisical manner.

He’s the first one to speak. When he does, it comes out like a coo. It’s enthralling. The way he seems to pull you in with a simple touch. Two fingers grasping your wrist, the other hand is occupied with the glass between his slender fingers. His name evades you for the most part, but you know he called you his pretty star girl.

❛ IS IT JUST YOU HERE? OR DO YOU GAVE SOME FRIENDS I SHOULD BE WORRIED ABOUT? HM, STAR GIRL. ❜

You feel alive, electrified by his very touch on your skin. And if he was quite honest you were doing the same to him as well. But how could you say no to man like this? To decline such a man. A frosted brow raises in question, awaiting your answer. You’re too absorbed in the moment to answer verbally. So you nod instead⸻ finishing his drink for him.

It’s sweet, oddly enough. Must be a mock tail.

He laughs at that.

It’s a simple gesture, one you shouldn’t find yourself smiling to. (But you do), despite your weak attempts of dismissing the smile on your face. He catches onto it, of course he does. He’s quick to make a slick comment, rasping against the shell of your ear. The man speaks in engrossing, waxing vices. Soft murmurs and purrs that make your spine shiver in delight. The kind of words that makes goosebumps occur. The kind that makes a fire erupt in your stomach.

He drags you away due to your request, to Satoru, you’re a feast to be ravaged in front of everyone in this club. Repercussions be damned. He wastes no time when it comes to you, bodies are pressed into one another. Kisses linger and breath mingles.

Slender fingers hook around your waist, gripping the warm flesh of your hip.

❛ STAY STILL, YOU CAN’T ESCAPE NOW. I’VE GOT YOU. DO Y’KNOW HOW LONG I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU TO COME OVER STAR GIRL? ❜

He mutters against your collarbone, prodding away at the strap of your dress. It eventually falls, giving him access to your chest Your movement stills and he hums in delight. You apologize for your shyness. He laughs. You can feel his chest rising against yours and his shoulders shaking with fit of laughter. Underneath his breath, he calls you a good girl.

❛ WHAT, YOU SCARED? I DON’T BITE ❜

Which is a lie. He does bite, you can feel his canines finding sanctuary in your neck. Through the navy shades of his tinted sunglasses and behind full frosted lashes. There was a mischievous glint in his gaze.

He’s testing you of course. You’re more annoyed at the fact that you don’t have an issue with it. In fact, you’re leaning into his touch. Feeding into his greed, letting his tongue lap and swipe over your skin. What were you even doing here with this man? He was a stranger. You should know better. If anything, you were going to blame the alcohol in your system for all your indecent thoughts and lewd actions that’ll haunt you tonight.

All these thoughts are making you anxious. Your flight or fight is kicking in. The alarm bells are ringing in the back of your mind, your body is slowly tensing up. He can obviously feel it, because he’s slowly coming to a stop. How observant of him. Some part of you feels guilty, he’s already worked up and well, shit. You don’t owe the man anything but he’s so fucking handsome like this. Wait, what was his name again?

You’re soooo fucked. You didn’t even get his name, if you get murdered by some sexy ass man that was on you. What a way to die though. By now, his advances come to a full stop. He’s looking at you now, questioning this whole ordeal. Is he doing something wrong? Did he fuck up?

❛ YOU’RE NOT REALLY SCARED, ARE YOU? AM I MOVING TOO FAST FOR YOU? LET ME KNOW. I NEED YOU TO SPEAK FOR ME, STAR GIRL. ❜

When he detaches from your neck, you whine. How pathetic. You whine and he grins with the most obnoxious shit eating grin you have ever seen. If you ever saw him again after tonight you might actually faint.

❛ ME? SCARED? NO. I’M JUST (…) FINALLY THINKING CLEARLY. I THINK⸻ I THINK WE SHOULD SLOW DOWN. GIVE ME A SECOND, WILL YOU? ❜

He mulls over your words, caressing your thigh in thought. Your hands find a place against his chest, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. You had no reason to be nervous, but you were fidgeting and he wasn’t answering you. Which made matters worse. Until (…) He does of course, nodding in understanding. Reluctantly removing his grip from your waist.

After a few moments of silence and wayward glances, he pulls out his phone. Just in case you do run off, he can still catch you. He’s smart, isn’t he? You take it, sliding your number in his notes. A soft smile plays on your expression, what other faces could you make with him?

‘ Call me, we’ll finish this later. Xoxo, Stargirl. ‘

Then, you’re gone. Duh, Obviously Satoru. He half the mind to leave you alone, but the other half is itching to follow you. He really could, you wouldn’t notice anyways. It was just one of his many talents. He could tell you to just come home Mona Lisa. How there wouldn’t be Rome without Caesar. Load you to death with allusions and such.

The first thing Satoru notices is the smell of your perfume on the collar shirt. Then, it’s the taste of you on his lips. After that, it’s the feeling of your fingertips on his chest. You’re still with him in spirit. You left pieces of you in your wake. He only craves more.

Firstly, Satoru knows this path is only going to end in heartbreak because Suguru Gēto is on the mind. Secondly, he missed the feeling you gave him. Not you. He missed being touched by someone, he missed cherishing something. He missed⸻ filling the space up. Sex could do that. Lust could. Occupying himself with countless assignments from the higher ups could.

What was Satoru now?

Ultimately, he’s tired. He’s been tired of years now. Exhausted even, he felt it in his joints. His bones. But he was the strongest; the strongest there is. The strongest can’t succumb to such pressure. He was supposed to be untouchable. He is untouchable. So why did he let you touch him tonight? Why did he let you through infinity? Hah. Another question for another day.

Distract yourself, Satoru. Never let the mask slip. Let it become you.

When Satoru sinks into the bed, sleep escapes him. Like every other night. Then, he thinks of you. Didn’t you ask him to text him? To ‘finish this later’ (…) The thought of Suguru makes him want to keel over and vomit. He couldn’t, not tonight. Besides, he’ll call you in the morning.

He did, Satoru did. It was stupid, dumb even. But he did. You answered, called him. Even held a conversation with Satoru. What a one eighty from last night, right? Somehow, he listens. Satoru was never one for listening, it’s too out of character for him. He wants to be seen, to be heard. He’s the greatest, he’s the strongest. The honored one. So why would he silence himself? Still. He listens. This goes on for months.

A period of time that’s too long for Satoru. The only reason you haven’t left yet is because he hasn’t shown you the real him, he’s kept you at arms length this whole time.

He keeps seeing Suguru in you. And maybe thats why he can’t let go. Or maybe he wants to see Suguru in you. To say you have any similarities would be a stain on his name. A sin. He can’t taint you too.

You know when Satoru is lonely. It feels like it, at least. You call. He answers. You talk. He listens. You eventually come over. Never asking for his name. But he can see it in your eyes, feel it at his fingertips when he touches you. It’s ‘Gojo’ you want to callout at night. Not just baby or sweetheart. You don’t want your lips on his collarbone, you want them on his lips. Satoru knows it. He feels it. But he can’t cross that line. He refuses it. If he refuses it, he’ll deny you of it. Deprive you.

But you eat at the palm of his hand. Taking everything so obediently. It should be criminal really. Why aren’t you biting at the hand that feeds you? Plead for more, ask for more. Beg for it. Like you are now. You don’t. You never do. You’re satisfied with the trail of kisses on your thighs that send an electric current down your spine. You’re fine with the way he pries them open, splitting you apart like a pomegranate. Fragile. Meant to paint his fingers with certain wetness.

You let Satoru delve in, you let him indulge too much. The nightly escapades go on for eight months. That is until you bite his hand. And he pulls away. You call for his name, not honey, not sweetheart, but his real name. In his lust, he says it. Gojo. You knew a line was crossed. You knew it. He knew it.

After sleeping with him, wait no. Gojo. Because he’s not just any random figure. Not just he. But Gojo. You’ve realized two things. One, you’ve never kissed. Two, you’ve never said his name. You also know that he doesn’t fully see you when you’re together. He’s somewhere else, not with you. He thinks you can’t see it. But you can, you always could. Ignore it, that’s what you told yourself. You could ignore the way he always wears blindfolds to cover his eyes, the way his lips twitched to utter another name. You could ignore it. Up until now.

For once. Satoru hears his name coming out from your lips, not the voice he’s seared into his mind. It’s not Suguru. It’s you. Suddenly, your fingers on his skin feel scalding. Too close to the flame. He moves away, letting you go. Why did he tell you that? Why did he feel the need?

❛ WHO DO YOU SEE WHEN YOU’RE WITH ME? (…) WHO AM I GOJO⸻ ? ❜

It’s almost humorous, the way you’re asking him who he sees. But at the end of the day, do you know who you are? All you do is give to Gojo, yet it’s never enough for you. Or him. So who are you really trying to fix here? You know there’s too many broken pieces for you to handle. To conjoin. Instead of setting them in place, you’ve sliced your finger on a glass edge.

❛ SUGURU. ❜

Why couldn’t you be mad at him? A nasty, bitter, feeling settles in your stomach but it’s not towards him. It’s towards the name he utters. How deluded you were. Jealous over someone you’d never know, someone you couldn’t compete with. To you, Gojo is an angel, a cosmic entity with a halo choked tight around him like a vice. His vice? Well it would be this so called Suguru.

Unfortunately, if he loved you. He did it in a way you couldn’t understand. If he truly desired you, you couldn’t tell. You call out to him. Really call out. ‘ Gojo, Suguru, Gojo, Suguru. ‘ Letting the names sit heavy on your tongue. It’s almost as heavy as the tears that roll down your cheeks.

Satoru Gojo is the living, breathing, vessel of impatience. He is ravenous. The encapsulation of gluttony and greed. Satoru bites and licks away at everything like a rotten dog. He moves in blurs and takes no time to enjoy things in the moment. When he loves, it’s snatched and taken away from him. Satoru knows what it’s like to bleed. So he’d rather move forward instead of licking old wounds.

Satoru does remember this one thing though.

You thanked him for his love, for his heart. For the fact that you haven’t had a single lonely night for months. Even if this love was misguided. An empty valentine. Apparently, you ran from love for a long time. So long, it became an empty game.

Would you hide your heart again?

That’s the last time you see Gojo. The last time you felt his touch. The last time you⸻ Well, damn. You missed it, missed him. Was it a crime? To miss that sort of relationship? To want him? The thought of Gojo sends a feeling of yearning in your chest. It constructs a deep hole in your heart, rippling through your chest like the deepest ocean. You would give him more than you actually gave him, surely he’d want you back then.

Shoko calls him an idiot. He deserves it.

It’s been a year since or two since Satoru has thought of you. A year since you’ve said his name. A year or two since (…) A lot has changed for Satoru. A lot, actually. Nanami called him, Nanami Kento. He was missed of course, finally back after the life of a salaryman chewed him up and spat him right out. After they both lost someone they cared about, they’re reunited again. Funny.

There was another change in his life too. Sukuna’s fingers. Which is why he’s here today, side by side the his little protégé Megumi! Wasn’t he the cutest?

Yaga carefully instructed the pair. Of course, Megumi was more focused on what the principal had to say. Satoru was set on tuning out everything that the man said. He didn’t have time to listen to all that, besides Megumi could handle it.

So, the first order of business was sending Megumi out to do his dirty work while he shops for something to quell his hunger for sweets. Truthfully, Satoru already completed his most recent mission hours ago. He just wanted to indulge in some dango before he met up with Megumi. When he hears the electronic chime of his phone ♪ ringgg ∿ bringggg ∿ ringing ♪ ♪ He picks up, answering with the brightest tone he could evoke. Megumi, on the other hand is obviously not in the mood for games. He never is.

❛ THERE’S A PROBLEM. ❜

He’s there in a heartbeat.

When Satoru arrives, there’s a disgruntled Megumi beside a kid with rosé colored hair. He’s bright—eyed. Ultimately youthful, a good heart. He senses it. He recalls Megumi explaining how the kid ate Sukuna’s damn finger. Why? ‘Because he’s brainless!’ that’s what young sorcerer said anyways. Satoru could hardly believe it. ‘Hah!’ He laughs, like really laughs. Isn’t this something? ‘The higher ups will behead him.’

Occult club friends almost get eaten up by curses. Sukuna arrives, they hash it out, blah, blah, blah. None of that is important. What is important however, is when he shows up the next day and the kid, Itadori is there. He’s athletic, strong—willed. All this praise from a certain teacher. Satoru asks Megumi to lead him towards her in order to grasp and explain the important matters at hand.

Then, there’s you.

It’s a slap across the face, it really is. He is royally fucked. You haven’t noticed him yet, he would know. The six eyes would tell him. In fact, he wishes you had some sort of cursed energy so he could preface what he was walking into. Your door is ajar. You’re still so welcoming, so open like the years before. Dressed in a black blazer and blue button up. Your pencil skirt shifts as you pace around your classroom, your heels make a soft click, click, sound.

Across from you, there’s Megumi. Then, there’s Itadori and his fellow occult members at your side. Satoru needed to get a grip. This was life or death, yet he was too consumed with the thought of getting ripped to shreds in the eye of your storm.

He moves, only an inch. But it’s like you knew he was approaching, coming into your space. It was the same magnetic field that pulled you into the wondrous depths of Gojo in that bar you first met him in. He finally steps in, the electricity buzzes like static. Eyes meet, breathing stops. You had to be insane, you had to be. The man who haunted your dreams, here. In the flesh? You wanted to see the heaven in his eyes like the first night you met.

Oh, you’re absolutely insane. Mental. Act cool, act casual. Act normal, just please don’t let him affect you.

❛ ♪ MEGG—UUU—MMI! YOU STARTED WITHOUT ME ∿ ? HOW COULD YOU, SAVE SOME ACTION FOR ME. WILL YA? ❜

Megumi was unimpressed with Gojo’s dramatic speech. Stating that he was late and unreliable. On the other hand, the others with entranced with this mystery man in your class room. You shift, rocking on your heels in short intervals. This was uncomfortable. Suffocating, even. Why was he here? What else did you not know about Gojo? Was he ignoring your presence as a whole? Shit, he’s looking at you.

❛ HEYYY. IT’S BEEN AWHILE, HASN’T IT? HOW HAVE YOU BEEN STAR GIRL? HM? IT’S FUNNY. YOU’VE ON MY MIND LATELY. ❜

Speechless, that’s what you are. Gojo simply slinks back into your life and it’s like he casted a spell on you. Megumi sneers at the thought of his sleazy mentor having his way with you. Quite frankly, from what he could tell. You were too sweet, passionate and honest for a man like Gojo. Too grounded to be caught in the webbing of his life, unbeknownst to him. You were always caught in his web.

After a beat of silence, Sasaki, Itadori, and Iguchi are desperately searching for answers by glancing at you and Gojo. You dismiss your beloved students with a weak wave. Megumi comes to your rescue by telling his elder off. ‘Stop harassing every poor individual you lay your eyes on Gojo—Sensei.’ He actually listens to the boy, settling into a chair. He’s waiting, watching your every move. He wants a reaction. And he’ll get it.

You clear your throat, opting for a tone and octave softer than your usual speech.

❛ I CAN SEE THAT NOW. IT’S BEEN AWHILE. AND YOU’RE STILL CALLING ME THAT? ❜

Is this what you were doing now? Dancing around the past you two shared years ago? Letting him seep and trickle back into your life like nothing happened? Gojo hard to read, you can’t tell if he’s entertained with the whole situation. Or, if he’s dreading it.

A new day comes.

And Gojo is in your home. Strictly because you need protection. (And he talked his way into being the person who watches over you and the fingers instead of anyone else.)

Satoru was selfish, he knows that. He can have his way, and he will. Because he’s strongest, the rules can bend to his grip regardless of what anyone says. But with you? He doesn’t even need to try. Satoru doesn’t build a home when it comes to you. Instead he tunnels through your chest and makes one. You let him.

Your home was cozy, quaint. It showed bits and pieces of your personality. Who you are as a person. Satoru almost feels guilty for a moment. He never really did see you for you. You were more of a convince. A body he was lucky to have. That's pretty fucked up, right? Lingering thoughts would bounce around his head as he continued to scope the perimeter of your home. From his peripheral vision, he can see the door pry open.

❛ OUUUH, BACK FROM WORK ARE YOU? HOW WAS IT? ❜

You were way too exhausted to deal with Sator during this time of day. Also, how the fuck did he remember where you live? How did he get in? They're all questions you want to voice of course but you end up flopping on the couch instead. Lids would fall close in response. The sounds of Satoru's footsteps drawing near sends an (un) pleasant shiver down your spine.