#that tone that Vessel uses for it

[bubacorn]

there lives a horrible, selfish, nastly little thing inside me that wants an entire concert with just Jaws on the setlist. i'd sit on the floor in complete silence the whole time. Vessel can be in pajamas, for all i care. the others can come and go if they like. i just think it would heal a tiny crack in my chest, somewhere

[docdufresne]

I think its sOOOO funny when you have a super sweet nice silly character have like.

The worst case of road rage or something.

[excelsior9173]

every time i read a romance or “romantasy” (because let’s be honest, i’m not the slightest bit interested in love unless there’s dragons or something involved) i have to half ignore the descriptions of the love interests physical appearance because in every book i’ve ever read like this the man is always described as mouth-wateringly well muscled, buff as shit, “rippling abs” and such.

and i have to ignore those descriptors because there is literally nothing more unattractive to me. i find no pleasure in ogling a guy who’s absolutely shredded. toned and strong? sure. but the whole hollywood muscly look? gross. i’d rather see light definition, a softer stomach. i guess just an overall softness to their bodies rather than rock solid muscle everywhere

[zhelin-thames]

Bruce has another kid........but this one is not adopted

It started with a mission. Bruce had caught wind of strange paranormal disturbances in a small town called Amity Park. Reports of “ghost sightings” and a local teen hero known as “Danny Phantom” had reached the Batcomputer. Most dismissed it as urban legends or a publicity stunt, but Bruce wasn’t one to ignore a potential threat—especially when these sightings coincided with spikes in dimensional energy readings.

Taking Tim and Damian along, Bruce decided to investigate.

The Bat-plane landed under cover of night just outside Amity Park. The small, seemingly ordinary town was eerily quiet. The only sounds were the hum of streetlights and the occasional echo of a distant, unnatural wail.

“This place is giving me... weird vibes,” Tim muttered, adjusting his tech-enhanced goggles.

“Focus, Drake,” Damian snapped. “We are not here for your feelings.”

Tim rolled his eyes but stayed silent as they followed Bruce toward the FentonWorks lab, the epicenter of the disturbances according to their data.

As they approached the lab, the trio suddenly heard a commotion. A glowing, green figure phased through a wall, yelling back at someone inside.

“I told you, Skulker, I’m not in the mood for another ‘hunt’ today!” Danny Phantom shouted, blasting the air with an ectoplasmic beam that sent a mechanical ghost retreating through the night sky.

The Bat-family froze.

“That’s him,” Bruce said quietly, narrowing his eyes. “Danny Phantom.”

Tim activated his scanner. “Readings are off the charts. His energy signatures are unlike anything I’ve seen. Definitely not human... or entirely human.”

Danny turned mid-air, his glowing green eyes locking onto the trio of vigilantes below. His gaze lingered on Damian for a fraction of a second before he floated down, his posture wary but non-threatening.

“And you guys are...?” Danny asked, crossing his arms.

“Batman,” Bruce said, stepping forward. “We’re here to investigate the unusual phenomena in this town. That includes you.”

“Great. Another set of people thinking I’m some kind of freak,” Danny muttered under his breath before straightening up. “Look, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I’m just trying to keep the ghost attacks in check. So unless you’re here to help, maybe stay out of my way?”

As the conversation continued, Bruce noticed something odd about Danny. There was something familiar in his facial structure, his stance, even his voice. It was faint, but undeniable.

Later, under the guise of investigating the Fenton lab, Bruce covertly collected a sample of Danny’s DNA—left behind on a napkin when Danny had grabbed a snack.

Back at the Batcave, the results left him stunned.

Bruce returned to Amity Park and requested to speak with Danny privately. Intrigued—and maybe a little suspicious—Danny agreed, letting Bruce lead him to the Bat-plane.

When they arrived at Wayne Manor, Alfred greeted them with his usual calm demeanor. “Master Bruce, your guest?”

Danny raised an eyebrow. “Fancy place. What is this, a billionaire’s bat-cave?”

Bruce didn’t respond, leading Danny to the Batcave below.

Once there, Bruce revealed the DNA results.

“Daniel,” he began, his tone as measured as ever, “you’re my son.”

Danny blinked. Then blinked again. “I’m sorry, what?”

Bruce explained how Talia had kept Damian a secret and revealed that she’d also been pregnant with twins. After Damian’s birth, Talia claimed Danny had been stillborn. In truth, the League of Assassins had stolen him for an experiment, intending to use him as a vessel for Ra’s al Ghul’s essence. When the experiment failed, they abandoned Danny, leaving him to be found by Jack and Maddie Fenton.

“I don’t even know where to start with that,” Danny said, pacing. “You’re telling me my entire life is some kind of League of Assassins soap opera?!”

Bruce didn’t respond, giving Danny space to process.

After a long silence, Danny turned to him. “Does Damian know?”

Bruce decided to bring Danny to the Manor to meet the rest of the family. The reactions were varied—Tim was skeptical, Jason was amused, and Alfred was quietly delighted to have another addition to the family.

But Damian’s reaction was the most intense.

[soapcloth]

CW: 18+ MDNI, mech!ghost x pilot!reader, scifi, noncon/dubcon elements, guided masturbation, temperature play, voyeurism - 1.6K words - dividers -> @/cafekitsune

Another long night in the cockpit.

You could only grin and bear it at this point. Reaching compatibility with your assigned vessel was slowly eating away at your psyche- and worst of all, you couldn’t even leave; not when your prospected affinity levels with the infamous machine had been deemed unprecedented, and certainly not when you knew what happened to deserters.

Conscription was non-negotiable these days; the large colony you had grown up in now ravaged by some otherworldly force and desperately bleeding out resources in response, be it weaponry, rations, or bodies.

The faction had been gifted the GH-05t Mech as an act of goodwill, but ask any official and you’d be informed that the powerful, unused machine would serve better as scrap parts- the real kicker being that they were no longer equipped with the resources or the manpower to dismantle the damned thing. 

GH-05t was a battle vessel; had been lauded as a ground-breaker and a boundary-pusher with the integration of an intelligent battle protocol system, all trained posthumously off the stored memories of some long-dead pilot, surely without his consent- Simon, they had named it in an attempt to make it more user friendly and assistant-like in nature.

Hubris. The system failed to run, turning the fully-functional mech into a glorified mountainous paperweight due to all of the instrumental functions being locked behind unresponsive intelligence. You speculated that the machine had passed hands to save face- to keep the public hopeful despite the system refusing to wake up.

-Wake up. You groaned, slapping lightly at your face.

You hated it here, longing for lazy days on the bleak outer walls, surrounded by the buzz of cicadas and rustling long grass as you waited for your father to get back from the drillsite. Your parents had been so proud when officials showed up at your dilapidated front porch, neat suits, shining eyes, and big smiles blissfully ignoring the very same surroundings they had left to rot;  all while you reeled internally- shaken by the worst news you had received in your life. It was a death sentence. 

It had been years since that day, and you were absolutely sure you had only been given a position like this because of some made-up numbers all while they tried to remind you that you were special, somehow different from your peers.

All damned to the same fate in your eyes.

“-load of shit.” you hissed, rubbing at the uncomfortable neuro-valve hooked into the back of your flight suit. Frustrated, you kicked at the mechanical console snug against your leg, the low rumbling whirr of the machine staying the same in response- apathetic to your misdirected rage. 

A moment passed before you finally leaned back in your seat with a grimace.

You still weren’t used to the flight suits in the mech pilot regs. You almost missed the starchy cargo pants that were worn throughout training- both had been unbearably stiff, but at least the latter hadn’t been so form-fitting.It always freaked you out a bit; the pilot suits were more akin to sleek exodermis, responsive and shock absorbent- It felt wrong to have something so foreign covering your entire body; unnatural. 

Your hips squirmed in the seat, friction suddenly becoming apparent the more you thought about it. The low tone of your monitored vitals raised gradually with the fuzzy heat beginning to shamefully pool in your gut; making you all too glad these late night bonding-sessions were done in an all but abandoned mech bay- your observed progress dwindling along with your prospects as time went on without result. 

Grinding into the seat, you swallowed back the thick saliva coating your mouth, teeth catching on your dry bottom lip as you held back a low, audible shudder; eyes fluttering shut. 

The bulky panel separating your legs became all too appealing as you acknowledged the press of it at your sealed cunt, nudging your apex into the blunt peak while your gloved hands curled around the padding of the built-in armrests.

Then, there was a pulse at your core. 

Eyes snapping open, you became all too aware that the sensation hadn’t come from your body. Straightening up in your seat you were met with a dull blinking text on the panel that had never been there before- 

‘Battle Intelligence System 

STATUS: LOADING’

You were rooted in place as you witnessed the glowing, digital bar slowly fill.

‘Battle Intelligence System 

STATUS: ONLINE’

You scrambled to pull at the neuro-valve connecting your suit to the mech, only for the small port’s flight locks to engage; a stark hiss emitting from the cockpit door’s airlock.

“Disengage locks.” you commanded, completely lost on what was happening. 

There was a low, fractured robotic groan directly in your comms “-Fuck…” the voice was deep, aggressively masculine and breathy in your ear- the sound holding more human emotion than you were prepared to rationalize. “Where am I?”

“-Disengage locks.” you repeated firmly. 

“The fuck is this?” he snarled, apparently coming to as he barked out questions, disoriented. “-Who are you- why are you in m’head- Fuck, why can’t I see?” 

Your suit was flexing and constricting, going haywire in the confusion. “C-calm down!” you stuttered, a pendulum in your head swinging between gripping dread and the low, heady heat of unmet needs. “Just-Just let me see if I can fix this.” 

Panting shakily, you swiped at the flight panel’s screen- spotting something containing the words ‘optical’ and ‘sensors’, you tapped frantically.

There was an audible wince deep in your ear, then a growling hum met with silence.

“M'dead, aren’t I?”

“-You’re a memory bank- not a person.” you asserted, clarification necessary when it came to a massive mobile death machine. ”C-Can you lay off the suit, please?”

A pulsing wave passed the length of your suit as he listened to your embarrassed response over the comms, the sound of his voice bouncing around in your head. “Fuck, bet tha’ feels nice, yeah?”

A whine bubbled at your lips before you could stop it. “I- You’re not l-listening, Simon.” 

There was a long silence following your plea- air electric and tense.

“Tha’ name- How do you know it?”

“N-not the point!” you argued, only to be met with a full body squeeze- a threat. “-It’s the name of the o-operating system! P-please!”

He relented, your chest heaving as your muscles released tension.

“Well, if you an'I are so close...”

The screen flashed with a notice. 

‘[Main Cockpit Camera Feed - Status: Active]’

Followed by another

‘[Manual Override - Feed Transmission Blocked]’

“-Keep things between us, yeah?” 

Your head swivelled around to look for a camera, landing on a lackadaisical red blink coming from right above the reinforced windshield.

“You're a sight, aren’t you?" listening closely, you could hear the audible scroll of the lens focusing.

You frowned. “Let me out-”

You gasped as a cold heat focused at your core, reminding you that your suit’s temperature regulating measures were completely under his control. “-No need for fuss, we were just getting t’know each other.”

“Th…” you paused, panting softly. “-This doesn’t make any sense.”

“What’s not to get, Love?” there was a pause as your seat adjusted forward, bumping your cunt into the console. “Give us a show, yeah?”

You whimpered in response, pressure unbearable.

“Look at you.” he snarled, the deep sound goading your rocking hips onward. “Fuck- Wish I could taste you…”

There was a small noise from the screen that had your heavy lids pulling upwards- database bringing up the low-res file of a soldier. 

“-Look at the man doing this to you, love.” 

Your lips parted, eyebrows drawing downwards in confusion as you looked at the attached image; a masked man with voids for pupils staring back at you.

“Y-You’re not-” you gasped as a concentrated cold rushed your breast, nipples pearling up uncomfortably at the sensation- the friction of your undergarments and the newly dropping temperatures sending your head soaring as your hips worked at grinding into the blunt metal. ”-not r-real.”

“-I am.” His voice was a sharp, humorous growl that threatened you to challenge his word, followed by a single deep laugh. “Eyes up- on me, love.”

Your head bobbed as you glanced lazily at the file, unable to make any sense of the written data- not that it mattered anyway.

“Think you can finish for me?”

The suit pulsed rhythmically as you practically humped your seat with eyes screwed shut, the humiliation of your current position itching at something unfamiliar deep in your abdomen. With flushed cheeks, you chased the bubbling pot that made a home in your gut; willing it to boil over.

 “Look at me.” he ordered. “Need y'to look at me.” 

Glancing at the screen in a haze, the exomuscles of your suit flexed in response.

“No- Up.”

your head shot towards the camera, holding contact with the whirring lens as the overstimulation finally became too much- pussy fluttering in euphoria with elbows bracing you, hips pathetically grinding out the high. 

Struggling to catch your breath, you slumped back into the chair- gears adjusting your seat back into a comfortable position.

“Good.” the voice in your ear barked, before lowering incrementally. “-Good…”

The screen lit up with a notice that compatibility requirements had been met- although it didn't mean much to you in your state; chest heaving slowly while you tried to make sense of what happened. 

“Gonna’ let you out- but this has got to stay our secret, yeah?” 

You swallowed, eyelids tugging open as your suit tensed in warning.

“How copy?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Good,” he paused. “-don't need anyone but you poking around up here.”

[lesmana-enterprise-ltd]

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The Lesmana Enterprise Co., Ltd

[prael]

The Hardest Question Ever ASSked

Le Sserafim Chaewon, Kazuha and Yunjin x male reader smut

Masterlist word count: 5,851 Kofi(donations/commissions)

"So, which one of these two do you think has the best ass?"

Yunjin has this penchant for asking the most inappropriate questions at the most random of times. The conversation was in a whole different place; Chaewon was explaining why the second Harry Potter film is by far the best one when suddenly...

"Oh my god," Kazuha immediately covers her eyes, sinking her head into her hands.

"What?" Yunjin blinks with innocence.

Chaewon can only groan in response. She sometimes wonders what goes on inside the minds of her group members, especially after that time Yunjin casually asked to compare their favourite toys (and now she is struggling to get the mental image of Yunjin slipping in a butt plug each morning out of her head. Apparently she has a whole range of sizes) but still, it feels like their constant effort to test how far they can go with each other has no end in sight.

"We all have pretty nice butts," Chaewon adds, the need to fill the awkward silence quickly becoming dire.

"Boring answer," Yunjin turns up her nose and pouts. Then her eyes fall on you. "Come on, you spend more than enough time staring, which is it?" she teases.

And look, you have thoughts, of course you do, but you're too coy to spill them out into the open for these three to scrutinize. So you joke, "We all know it's me." Only Kazuha laughs—that girl laughs at your every word.

Yunjin narrows her eyes, her attention like a hungry lion's before its prey. She asks in a challenging tone, "Why are you avoiding the question?"

You have learned very quickly that a game you can never win is against Yunjin, that woman is relentless with her prodding, so you change strategies. "What does it matter who has the nicest ass? Asses are so subjective."

"Stop being so political."

Chaewon senses blood in the water and joins in on pushing you for an answer, "Okay, so, subjectively, which one do you like the most?"

You slump back into your chair as the three girls sit forward expectantly. Yunjin is directly across from you, wrapping her lips around the straw for her coffee as she stares through you, practically daring you to bullshit her with a non-answer. Chaewon is wide-eyed on your right, and Kazuha still has her hand nervously over her mouth.

You have an answer, you know which one you like the most. But you also know that as soon as you say it, the other might kill you.

So, you pick the one that will give the best reaction. See, Chaewon is competitive, right down to the bone. Meaning that when you answer, "Kazuha," she looks about ready to burst a blood vessel.

"What!" she spits, the other two girls bursting into laughter. "I'm the one with the best ass!"

Kazuha has this whole smug look going on, it's not one she uses often, but to tease Chaewon? You don't blame her.

"Oh yeah, you think that's funny? I'll show you whose ass is the best," Chaewon threatens.

"It must be all the squats," Yunjin chimes in.

"Shut up," Chaewon growls at her.

Kazuha leans back in her chair and shrugs, "No need to be jealous. Yours is great too, Chaewon. You work really hard, and it shows."

"Don't try to suck up now, Kazuha."

You watch the whole exchange in silence. This is what happens almost every time Yunjin calls you over to have lunch, and it is always an entertaining time.

"Alright, so what about thighs? Which ones are the best?" Yunjin continues.

"Kazuha," you answer, and Kazuha is practically glowing, "I mean, have you seen how toned her thighs are?"

You turn to Chaewon, a smirk on your face so evil, "Sorry, Chae."

"Alright! That's it!" Chaewon shouts, jumping up from her chair, her eyes burning with determination. Her hands are at the waist of her jeans, popping open the button. "If you won't admit mine are the best, I'll have to prove it to you."

Yunjin sighs, her hand on her chin, and she shakes her head. "Here we go again."

You can feel yourself blush a bit, the way you always do when this happens, even though the four of you have had these lunches dozens of times, and Chaewon has always tried to show off her body at some point. She wiggles her jeans off her hips, sliding them down to reveal her black, lacy thong.

"Well?" she poses, turning to the side to show off her ass, "What about now?"

You are certain the three of you are all thinking the same thing—her body is unbelievable—but nobody is going to stroke her ego like that.

"Oh yeah, definitely Kazuha's," you shrug, trying not to let your gaze linger.

"What?!"

It draws a loud laugh from Yunjin, who's hitting the palm of her hand against her thigh as she wheezes. Kazuha, who is usually the shy one of the bunch, can't help but join in on the laughter.

"Fuck you," Chaewon snaps at you, "And fuck you too!" She turns on her heel and points at Kazuha.

Kazuha is still laughing, and she has her head turned away from Chaewon, but you can see her smile grow wider. She's teasing, "Oh come on, Chaewon, it's okay. You look cute."

"I'll show you cute," Chaewon growls, her hand coming down hard on the table. It makes the cutlery rattle, and the three of you glance between yourselves before a shared giggle bubbles up again.

You look up at Chaewon, who has a scowl on her face. Her eyebrows are furrowed, and her jaw is tense. She has one hand on her hip, her fingers digging into her skin, and the other is gripping the table so hard that her knuckles have gone white. Her body is stiff, the only movement being the rise and fall of her chest. Her face is flushed, either with embarrassment or frustration or both, and her lips are parted, letting her breaths pass through.

Her skin is smooth and soft, and when she moves, you can see the muscles ripple under it. She's so lean, so slender, but there's an undeniable strength behind her.

"What, got something to say?" Chaewon bites, noticing your stare.

"Uh," you fumble, your eyes flitting down her body before shooting up to her face again. "Just, um," you clear your throat, trying to shake yourself out of this trance, "Are you gonna leave your jeans off?"

"Until you realise how wrong you are, yes."

"Okay," you chuckle, then return to sipping on your drink.

"So, are we going to go through the rest of the list? Boobs? Which one's the best?" Yunjin can barely speak for her stifled laughter.

Chaewon huffs, then folds her arms across her chest. She pushes her tits together, the low-cut t-shirt working wonders to showcase her cleavage. "Mine," she states proudly.

"Kazuha."

"I can't with you two," Chaewon whines. "What the fuck?"

"You can't win against me," Kazuha says simply.

Chaewon's glare switches between the three of you. She looks like a wild animal ready to pounce. A dangerous, sexy, wild animal.

"You're all fucking useless," she mutters under her breath, turning on her heel. "I'll be right back."

You watch as she stomps off in her underwear and boots, leaving the three of you alone.

"That was fun," Yunjin smirks, sitting back in her chair and crossing her legs. She looks at you and says, "You've got a mean streak. I love it."

"I just like riling her up," you smirk.

"I noticed."

Kazuha giggles, then takes another sip from her cup. You can't help but watch her. Her dark hair is tied up in a messy bun, and even without makeup, she is beautiful. There is a softness to her, an air of innocence, that you can't quite place.

"What are you looking at?" Kazuha asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing," you shrug.

"I see the way you look at her," Yunjin says with a wink. "Got you thinking about something, huh?"

"Yeah," you say, not knowing how else to respond.

"I bet it's filthy," Yunjin continues. "How long has it been since you two hooked up, again?"

"Too long," Kazuha answers.

"Oh yeah," Yunjin smiles. "Guess I've been a little greedy recently."

"Just a little," Kazuha giggles, her cheeks dusted with red.

"Stop being so shy and ask him then," Yunjin nods in your direction.

"I'm back!" Chaewon announces, turning heads.

"What the fuck are you wearing?" Yunjin asks.

It's nothing but skimpy lingerie. It's black and lacy, hugging her curves perfectly, and leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. Her thong cuts deep between her ass cheeks, and the bra pushes her tits up, not that much is needed. The fabric is sheer, and you can see the dark peaks of her nipples through it.

She's leaning on the doorway as she speaks, "I wasn't going to half-ass it, was I?" Oh, Chaewon, even as you stand there, looking like a whole meal, you still can't resist a good pun. "So," she continues, sauntering over and leaning down, placing her hands on the table and getting in your face. "Have you come to your senses yet?"

You glance away, to look across the table at Yunjin, who's got her eyes fixed on Chaewon's ass and is telling her, "Yeah, no doubt I'm definitely kinda gay. Your butt looks amazing."

"Need more convincing?" Chaewon is looking down her nose at you, a devilish grin spreading across her face.

"More convincing," you repeat.

Chaewon steps between you and the table, pushing the arms of your chair and struggling to move it back.

"W-what are you doing?"

"Convincing." Chaewon turns to the table, puts her chest flat against it and arches her back, giving you the most brazen display. "Is it working?"

"It's..."

"Working," Yunjin finishes for you as she stands up to admire the view.

You take a moment to appreciate her, the way she's bent over the table, the way her ass looks so round and perfect. The way her thighs are toned and muscular, and the way they press together, gives her just a little more shape. You want to touch her, to reach out and run your hands along her smooth skin.

"I'd let her sit on my face," Yunjin whispers as if she could read your mind.

"Oh yeah, for sure," Kazuha adds.

"Would you two shut up? I'm trying to get my point across."

"Don't let us stop you."

Chaewon lets out an irritated sigh, then gets up and sits herself down in your lap. Her hips roll forward, and you can feel her warmth. You can't help yourself, you slip a hand around her waist and rest it on her stomach.

"Do you like this?" Chaewon asks, her voice low and seductive. She leans back, letting her head rest against your shoulder, her breath hot on your ear. "How about this?" She shifts her hips, grinding her ass against your crotch. You bite back a moan, your fingers digging into her flesh.

"You know," Yunjin says, watching as Chaewon continues to rub her ass against you, "We could have a lot more fun with this."

"What do you mean?" Kazuha asks, a hint of nervousness in her voice.

"Well," Yunjin's eyes flick over to meet yours. "If you're not gonna fight for your spot, our friend here might change his mind. How about a competition?"

"Competition?" Chaewon repeats.

"I'm talking a showdown," Yunjin explains, a wide grin on her face. Chaewon is staring blankly at her, and Yunjin rolls her eyes. "Ass vs ass. Who's got the better booty?"

"I'm in," Chaewon immediately agrees.

"What?" Kazuha squeaks.

"Oh, come on. You're not going to back down, are you?"

"No, I'm not," Kazuha states, standing up.

"You don't have to do this," you tell them.

"Shut up," Chaewon shoots back, a smirk on her face.

"Let's settle this once and for all," Yunjin declares. She pulls the table away, leaving you in the middle of the dining room with Chaewon on your knee. She pulls Kazuha to her feet and stands in front of her. Their eyes are locked on each other, both looking nervous. You can't take your eyes off them, especially when Yunjin slides her hands down Kazuha's abs. "First, let's catch you up, get you out of these clothes.

Yunjin hooks her fingers into the waistband of Kazuha's jeans and starts to pull them down, revealing the soft, creamy skin of her thighs. Kazuha lifts her feet out of her shoes and pants, leaving her standing in a pair of white panties.

"Damn, girl, you look good," Yunjin purrs, running her hands along Kazuha's thighs, squeezing the soft flesh.

Meanwhile, Chaewon turns her attention to you, first by pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it aside, then moving on to undoing the buttons on your pants. You're already achingly hard, from having her ass grinding against you, her hands on you, and her scent filling your nostrils. She stands up and steps back, allowing you to stand and drop your pants, then step out of them, leaving you only in your boxers.

"Looks like someone is ready," she teases, looking at the bulge.

You blush, embarrassed, but you can't help the way your cock twitches at her words.

"Alright," Yunjin calls.

The two girls are standing side by side now. Yunjin has sat you down and is standing behind you, her hands on your shoulders, her breath hot on the back of your neck. She's looking between the two girls, taking in their bodies, her eyes filled with lust. Kazuha is biting her lip, her hands clasped together in front of her, her body stiff.

"First, let's see who can move their ass better. Show off what you've got," Yunjin commands.

Chaewon is the first to act, bending over and shaking her hips. Her ass is swaying from side to side, her hips moving in circles, and her ass jiggling with every motion. Her back is arched, her legs straight, and her thighs pressed together, giving her ass the perfect shape.

"Nice," Yunjin whistles.

Kazuha takes a deep breath. She turns to show you her ass, putting her arms above her head and swaying her hips. She doesn't have the same confidence as Chaewon, but her ass still looks great.

"Fuck yeah," Yunjin says, her hand trailing down your chest and stomach.

"You think that's good?" Chaewon huffs. "Watch this."

She backs up towards you, stopping when her ass is almost touching your crotch, and leans back, arching her back. Her ass is pushed out, the curves and lines of her body on display. She places her hands on her ass cheeks and then starts to squeeze and knead her flesh, moaning softly as she does so.

"Fuck, that's hot," Yunjin breathes.

"Don't stop," you gasp.

Kazuha has renewed fight, stepping and dropping her ass against your lap. It's all in the hips, the way she moves, and how her body rolls. It's different from Chaewon, there's a grace to it and a fluidity. She turns, looking back at you, her eyes full of fire, her lips curled into a sly smile. You know that look. It's like a switch is flicked inside her.

"Fuck," you groan, reaching out to grab her, to pull her closer.

Kazuha leans forward, her back arched, and you draw her thick ass towards your cock. Soon enough, Chaewon follows, and you become the filling of an ass sandwich.

"Oh fuck, that looks good," Yunjin says, her hand sliding beneath your waistband and grabbing your cock. She starts to stroke it, slow and steady, teasing the tip with her thumb. But, as their assets draw closer, Yunjin is forced to relinquish, the girls taking hold of your cock between their asses, and rubbing their cheeks against you.

"Ahh, fuck, that's so fucking hot," you moan.

"Yeah, baby, you like that?" Yunjin purrs in your ear.

"God yes," you breathe, your head falling back against her chest.

Chaewon laughs, a smug sound, "He's definitely loving mine."

"In your dreams," Kazuha hisses.

"What was that?"

"I said," Kazuha pushes her ass, to slide your length between her cheeks, rubbing along the fabric of her thong, "He likes my ass more."

"I don't think so," Chaewon shoots back, fighting for position. The girls are ass to ass, cheeks squishing against each other. Your cock is caught between them, and they both start to rock their hips, the friction making you hiss.

"You're both driving me crazy," you moan.

"Yeah?" Chaewon smirks.

"How about this," Kazuha adds, her hips moving faster, and her ass squeezing tighter. It's all matched and challenged by Chaewon, who's moving her hips, and rocking her ass, and doing everything she can to keep up.

This whole thing is fucking ludicrous, don't get it twisted. This is the most insane thing you have ever seen, or done. Two gorgeous women, two insanely sexy asses, both fighting for a chance to prove that theirs is the best. And you're right there, between them, your cock assaulted by the most amazing sensation.

"How are we going to settle this?" Chaewon growls, her ass grinding hard against your cock.

"I'm not stopping until he cums," Kazuha shoots back, her ass moving even faster.

"Me either," Chaewon huffs.

"Wait, wait, stop," you gasp, to no avail. The girls just keep on grinding, keep on rocking, keep on fighting.

"Shh," Yunjin purrs, her hands roaming your chest, and her lips ghosting across the back of your neck. "Let them have their fun."

You moan, your body tense, your cock throbbing between their asses. The girls are panting, their breath heavy, and their bodies slick with sweat. Their skin is hot, their bodies flushed, and their hearts pounding.

"He's getting close," Chaewon smirks, "I can feel it."

"For me," Kazuha insists.

"I'm doing all the work," Chaewon snaps back, her hips rolling faster, and her ass pressing harder.

"Stop, fuck," you hiss, feeling your cock throb, feeling that familiar sensation rising in the pit of your stomach.

"Tell me it's for me. Cum for me, baby."

"No, for me. He's cumming for me," Kazuha shoots back.

And then, it hits. It's an explosion, your body jerking, your muscles spasming. Your head is thrown back, a groan ripped from your throat, and your hips bucking wildly.

"That's it," Chaewon smirks, looking over her shoulder. "I did it. He's cumming because of me."

"No, me," Kazuha pouts, turning her head.

You spill over them, thick, hot cum spraying all over their asses and backs, leaving sticky ropes of white across their smooth, flawless skin.

"F-fuck," you gasp, trying to catch your breath.

"Holy shit," Yunjin murmurs, "That was... fuck.

"It's mine," Chaewon says, her tone cocky and arrogant.

"No, it's mine," Kazuha growls.

The two of them continue their argument, but you can barely hear them. Your body is still recovering, your mind reeling, and your heart racing. What a fucking rush.

"Who's got the best ass? Well," Yunjin chuckles, "It's a tie if you ask me."

"A tie?" Chaewon repeats.

"Yeah, a tie."

"Well, I'm not calling it a tie," Kazuha says.

"Me either," Chaewon huffs, standing upright and glaring at the other woman.

"You're both pretty great," Yunjin states, her hand on your shoulder.

"Kazuha is great, me? I'm perfect."

"Okay," Yunjin sighs. "There's still something he needs to test. You can't decide on the best ass without fucking them both."

"What?" Chaewon and Kazuha gasp at the same time.

"You get five minutes each, then swap. First to make him cum is the winner."

"Deal," Chaewon and Kazuha say simultaneously, their gazes burning into each other.

"Well then," Yunjin says, standing up. "Over the table girls."

You're still fucking out of it. Slumped in the chair while Yunjin guides them over the table, bent at the waist and presenting their asses to you. The girls are draped in your cum, and Yunjin has the task of plucking off their underwear, leaving them bare and naked. Then she comes and pulls you to your feet, positioning you behind Chaewon.

"Cum in whichever feels the best, okay? Wait here a minute." Yunjin runs off to the bedroom, giving Chaewon a chance to bargain with you.

"Come on, you know I've got the better ass. And you know what it can do for you. Just think of all the other times you've fucked my ass. Don't tell me you want Kazuha's ass instead?"

"Uh," you mumble.

"Oh come on," she wiggles her ass, "Look at this."

"Sorry," Yunjin says, reappearing with a bottle in her hand. "Gotta do this right." Yunjin takes a blob of lube in her hand and rubs it onto your cock. It's cold, and it makes you shudder. Then she takes some and rubs it onto Chaewon's ass.

"Fuck," she squeaks, her body trembling.

"Ready?" Yunjin asks.

"Y-yeah."

"Five minutes, go!"

Yunjin pushes you by the hips toward Chaewon, not that you need any encouragement to slip your length between her cheeks.

"That's it, fuck me. Come on, baby. Let's see whose ass feels better."

It's slow to begin, pushing your way into her little asshole. She's still so tight, and even with the added slick, it takes a bit of effort. But she's warm and snug around your cock, and her ass is perfect.

"Fuck, I forgot how big you were," she moans, her voice strained.

"She can't even take it," mocks Kazuha.

"Shut up, I can," Chaewon bites back. "Go on, deeper."

Yunjin has her hand on your hip, guiding you deeper and deeper until you bottom out. Her ass is pressed right against your hips, and she's whimpering. You give her a few moments to adjust before starting to move, pulling out slowly, then pushing back in. You're stretching her out, forcing her to accommodate your length, and her hole is clenching around you.

"Fuck, I love the feeling of your cock," she gasps.

"We all do," Kazuha says flatly.

"Not as much as I do," Chaewon pants.

"Come on, you can fuck her faster," Yunjin whispers in your ear.

So you pick up the pace, your hips moving, and your cock thrusting deep into her. She's moaning and writhing beneath you, her ass shaking with every impact, her body trembling. You can't stop yourself, you're pounding her hard, slamming your cock deep inside her. The cum on her cheeks is smeared, making the sight even more filthy.

"Shit," she groans, her ass bouncing back against your hips.

You're lost in her, fucking her hard and fast, making her take every inch of you. You're grunting, your balls slapping against her skin, and your cock stretching her hole. You're losing control, the sounds of your fucking filling the room.

"Fuck, you're gonna make me cum," she moans.

"You're such a slut," Kazuha hisses.

"Oh fuck," Chaewon cries, her ass clenching around your cock, her body convulsing, and her pussy dripping. "Oh my god, fuck," she screams, her whole body tensing, and her eyes rolling back.

"Holy shit," you gasp, your cock throbbing and twitching.

"Alright, time's up," Yunjin says, grabbing you and pulling you away from her.

"What the fuck, no, don't stop," Chaewon pleads.

"Swap," Yunjin demands, shoving you towards Kazuha.

You stumble forward, your cock aching and throbbing. You're still sensitive, and the sudden change has your head spinning. Yunjin covers you again with more lube and slaps your ass to let you know to begin.

Kazuha's chest is flat on the table, her cheek pressed against the wood, and her hands gripping the edge. She turns to look at you, her eyes full of silent desire. There's an arch to her back, and her ass is perfectly presented, just waiting for you to enter her.

"Take her," Yunjin whispers and her hand pushes down on your hip.

You step forward, the tip of your cock pressing against her asshole. You can see her muscles tensing, and she lets out a soft moan as you push into her. She's even tighter than Chaewon, her body squeezing and gripping your cock. She's not nearly as experienced, her reactions are more innocent.

"Oh," she gasps, her body shivering, "That's... that's really good."

You grab her hips, your fingers digging into her flesh, and you push deeper, feeling her asshole stretch and open up for you. She lets out a sharp cry, and you pause, giving her a moment to relax.

"Keep going," she pleads, her voice thick with lust.

You start to move, sliding out of her and then pushing back in. She's hot and tight around you, and her muscles are contracting, squeezing and clenching, pulling you deeper into her.

"Oh my god, it's so good," she moans.

Her eyes are closed, and her mouth is open, and her body is quivering. You keep going, thrusting harder and deeper, until you're buried in her ass. She lets out a long, low moan, and you can feel her trembling.

"She can barely take it," Chaewon laughs.

"Don't listen to her," Kazuha pleads, looking over her shoulder at you. "Just keep going, please."

You groan a response and start to pound her harder. Sticky flesh slapping together, your hands holding her steady, and her cries filling the room. You're fucking her rough, and she's taking every inch of you. It feels incredible, and the pleasure builds, your cock throbbing and aching.

"Come on, cum for me," she whines.

"Fuck, you're so sexy," you gasp, your hips bucking. Just one slap of her ass and it's marked already, red and pink from the impact.

"You're close," she whimpers.

"Keep going," Yunjin encourages. "Two minutes or they both lose."

Your whole body is trembling, and your head is spinning. Your cock is so hard and aching, and your balls are tight. Your hips are bucking, and you're fucking her with abandon, her ass taking every inch.

"Come on," she begs.

You groan, and then you're there, your whole body shuddering, and your cock pulsing and throbbing, emptying your cum into her ass. As soon as Chaewon sees that look on your face, she knows she's lost. She whines a defeated sound and slumps against the table.

Kazuha is the one smiling though, and as she stands, you notice her knees are a bit weak. "I win," she announces, a little triumphant.

"You cheated," Chaewon pouts.

"How the hell did I cheat?"

"I don't know, you just did." Chaewon's got that little pouty expression stuck to her face, and she swears her revenge. "Next time, I'll beat you. You'll see."

"If you say so," Kazuha smiles, looking at the mess leaking from her ass. You're stumbling back and Yunjin is your support, keeping you steady.

Yunjin is in your ear, "You've still got another round in you, right?"

"I don't know," you pant.

"You, me and the shower. Think about it."

"Yeah," you manage, and then her hand is on your arm, leading you to the bathroom.

"Where the fuck are you going?" Chaewon demands, her hands on her hips.

"Shower," Yunjin calls, dragging you along. "You girls caused this mess, you can clean up. Maybe even lick his cum off each other's asses."

"No, don't leave," Chaewon whines.

But, it's too late, the door is closing, and Yunjin is pushing you up against the wall. "You know," she whispers, her hands on your chest and her body pressed against yours, "I'm kinda turned on."

"Yeah?"

"Watching them fight over you was so hot."

"Yeah, it was," you admit.

"So," she presses her lips to yours, kissing you hungrily, and slipping her tongue into your mouth.

You return her passion, your hands running up her body, and down her back. She breaks the kiss, and looks up at you, a coy smile on her lips.

"Let's have a little fun," she murmurs, reaching behind her and turning on the shower. The water flows, steam fills the air, and Yunjin steps under the stream, letting it cascade over her naked body.

"Fuck," you gasp.

"What's the matter?" she teases, grabbing the bottle of soap and squirting it onto her chest. She lathers up her chest, spreading the foamy liquid over her smooth skin, her nipples hardening as the suds run down her body.

"You're gorgeous," you say, stepping towards her.

She grabs you by the hips, pulling you close, her hands roaming your body. Her skin is slick with soap, her touch gentle and teasing. She's looking up at you, her eyes filled with desire.

"Are you ready?" she whispers, her voice husky.

"Always," you grin, cupping her breasts and kneading them in your hands.

"Fuck," she sighs, leaning into you, her eyes closed, and her body relaxed.

You kiss her, tasting her lips, your tongue sliding against hers. She moans, her hands trailing down your back, and her nails digging into your skin.

"Mmm, so good," she murmurs, breaking the kiss and looking up at you. "All this anal stuff has got me thinking, maybe it's time we tried something new."

"Really?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "I didn't think it was ever really your thing? You always said a butt plug was enough."

"I've been practising," she winks.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Maybe it's best if I show you."

"Oh," you grin.

"So," she purrs, wrapping her arms around your neck and pressing her body against yours. "You want to see what I can do?"

"Fuck yes," you breathe, a rush of excitement running through your body.

She smiles, biting her lip and pulling away from you. She turns her back to you, facing the wall, and places her hands flat on the tile. She arches her back, and you watch as she spreads her legs and bends further and further over. Her ass is sticking out, her perfect, plump cheeks inviting you in.

You can't help yourself. You kneel behind her, grab her cheeks and spread them wide. She lets out a soft moan, and you press your face into her ass, inhaling her sweet scent.

"Fuck," you groan, kissing her puckered hole.

"Mmm," she moans, pushing her ass back into your face.

"That feels good, doesn't it?"

"Yes," she whispers, her breath hitching in her throat.

You tease her with your tongue, licking her asshole, and swirling the tip around the rim. She shivers, and you push a finger into her, probing her, exploring her. She's so tight, and the sounds she's making are driving you wild.

"Please," she begs, her voice a desperate whisper. "Please fuck me."

"Are you sure?" you ask, a hint of surprise in your voice.

"Yes," she says, looking back at you. "I've been thinking about this for a long time, and I'm finally ready."

"You don't have to, we can just have a regular fuck."

"No," she insists, her eyes blazing. "I want to try it, and I want you to be the one to do it."

"Fuck," you growl, pulling your finger out of her ass and standing up. You press the tip of your cock against her, and she whimpers. A shiver runs through her, and her hands ball into fists. There's this tension in the air, and her breathing is shallow and fast. Utterly shameless, she reaches back and pulls her asscheeks apart, opening herself up for you.

"Come on," she whimpers. "Do it. Put it in."

You press against her, your cock throbbing, and her asshole quivering. You push, and she gasps, her muscles tightening, her body tensing. But she doesn't pull away. You push again, harder, and her asshole starts to give way, stretching and opening for you. She lets out a strangled cry, her ass clenching around your cock, as the first few inches slip into her. You can go no further. No amount of practice could prepare her for this.

"You're so tight," you groan.

"It hurts," she whines, her body trembling.

"Just relax, okay?"

"I can't," she moans, her muscles straining.

"Just breathe," you say, stroking her back and ass.

She takes a deep breath, and then another, and then a third. You can feel her body relaxing, her muscles loosening, her asshole stretching.

"That's it," you encourage, pushing deeper into her. "How's that? Better?"

"Yes," she whispers, her eyes rolling back in her head.

You slowly start to move, thrusting in and out of her ass. She's so tight, her body gripping your cock like a clenched fist. Her moans fill the room, echoing off the tiles.

"Fuck," she hisses, her head hanging low, her shoulders hunched. Yunjin has always been the hold-out. Her anal virginity has eluded you, but not any more. Finally, all the best asses in K-pop are willing to take you. There's nothing better.

"Fuck," she groans, her nails scraping against the tiles. "Harder."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she pants.

You grab her hips and start fucking her harder, it's still tough to get more than half of your length inside her, but what she's taking is driving her crazy.

You hook a hand underneath her, past her toned stomach to play with her pussy. She's soaked, dripping with lust, her clit hard and swollen. You tease her, stroking and rubbing her, and she cries out, her whole body tensing.

"You're gonna make me cum," she gasps, her hips bucking against your hand.

"Not until I say so," you growl. She whimpers, her ass tightening around your cock, her legs trembling. You lean forward, grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her head back. "Who am I?" you snarl, fucking her ass harder.

"Ah," she whines, her voice strained. "You're...you're my daddy."

"That's right," you growl, your cock throbbing. "Now cum for me."

You rub her clit, and she cums, her whole body convulsing, and her pussy gushing. It's a powerful orgasm, and she's shaking and crying out, her ass squeezing your cock like crazy. She grows weak, barely able to stand and take it. You pull out, let her fall to her knees, and then take hold of her hair to face you.

She's looking up at you with this expression like she's drunk, or high. A good ass fucking and she is a mess. A happy mess. One that's perfect to be coated in your load.

You stroke yourself, staring down at her, and her eyes widen, her lips parted and waiting. You grunt a shudder runs through you, and your cock erupts. Thick ropes of cum splatter across her face, covering her cheeks, her lips, and her nose. She's whimpering, stroking her tits and moaning out words of pure filth for you. "So much cum for your favourite girl. We both know those two don't stand a chance against me."

She's a mess. She's a hot, filthy mess. You step back, admiring her, a smug satisfaction filling your mind while she licks your cum from around her mouth. "Don't get complacent," you tease.

"Never."

[rae-writes]

Ferrari #FF2800 — Bakugou Katsuki

lord explosion murder god of our heart <3 || 0.2k || m.list

“Get your fuckin feet off my dash?!”

The sheer incredulousness dripping from your fiance’s tone made you unable to hide the laughter that rolled out, body slumping in the pristine leather seats of his new car, shoulders shaking with how hard you were letting your amusement show.

“The fuck you think you’re laughin at? Feet. Off.” Bakugo could complain all he wanted as he peeled out of the parking lot, but you could see the quirk of his mouth like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

You still dropped your feet back down to the floor board, though, leaning over the console to press apology kisses to his cheek and jaw. “Don’t pop a blood vessel, baby, your dash remains spotless.”

He grumbles yet still leans his head into your kisses, eyes never straying from the road. He mutters out a few ‘more’s and a particularly whiny ‘on the corner of my mouth too’ before finally getting to plant a real one on you at a red light. 

“‘M gonna take that ring back if you keep on.” The stupid grin on his handsome face was like a flashing sign to show he was full of shit.

“Yeah?” you mused, taking your shoes off and placing your socked feet on the dash, wiggling your toes to bring emphasis to your Dynamight themed socks. “Better be careful, my husband’s really strong. Big scary pro-hero.”

Katsuki visibly melted at the use of ‘husband’, wishing the wedding would come even sooner. “He sounds badass.”

Another laugh came from you, breath tickling his ear as you kissed his cheek again once the light turned green. “A badass that better hurry and get us to his parents house before we’re late for dinner.”

[solelifauna]

So this NOT to imply the writing is bad

But so far the Batfam fic as me genuinely shaking in anger , the fact that dick is convinced that y/n as to prove herself to be "worthy" genuinely got to me to the point I need a pallete cleanser

Could we please get a small drabble of reader growing close with one of the "outside" batfam members?

Like maybe Kate(batwoman) and Luke (batwing) because they are under used

Or hell, maybe to really grind the family gears, reader gets close to azrael

(you know Bruce would've able to do shit if reader got close with Kate, she would fucking eat him alive)

Hey, You're all good bro! I also just want to put out that my fic is based on an au! The portrayals of any characters in my fic are based off of their canon and fanon counterparts, just with my own twist. Since this is a darker universe/au, the Bats along with other heroes are going to be a lot more brutal and jaded.

Also love your idea bro. But, I'll do you one better. Constantine. Bruce absolutely can't stand him and the reader being friends with/getting along with him? Oh, that's bound to grind Bruce's gears. It would also be easier to meet Constantine too.

Let's just say one day the reader gets caught up in some Justice League Dark stuff that Constantine is trying to solve. She gets kidnapped by a cult that wants to use her as a sacrifice. I mean, she is a pretty huge target, being the daughter of a Billionaire after all. Anyways, shes kidnapped, nobody is coming to get her, not from her family at least. Long story short, Constantine arrives too late to stop the ritual, but things don't go according to plan for the cultists anyway. Turns out that the person sacrificed wouldn't be killed, but would instead become a vessel.

Great, now you have some old, eldrich being living rent-free in your mind. The being is old, donning the title "Keeper of Hell", but you'll just call it (they? him? her?), Adam. Yeah, Adam wasn't too happy with the name. When Constantine arrives, however, hes pleasantly surprised to find you alive. When he realizes that you, a 15-year-old, now carry the presence and power of an eldritch being older than Gotham itself, he groans while lighting up a cigarette. Looks like he'd have to deal with you now.

He checks over you making sure you have no internal and external injuries before explaining your situation. He feels a little sorry for you, but he is in no condition to train you. He asks around to other JL dark members, hoping to see if anyone is willing to help you control your new powers. He sighs again when nobody steps up to the plate, too busy with their own sidekicks and quests.

Reluctantly, he tells you he'd help you figure stuff out. And there begins the blossoming of the amazing "Grumpy old man and kid they didn't ask for" troupe. When you tell Constantine your name, he blanks, because of course he gets stuck with one of the bat's kids. However, based on your tone of voice when discussing your family (and the way you begged him not to let Bruce/Batman know of your predicament), he's guessing things aren't all too great between you all. Well, thats not his problem, his only job was to train you and make sure you don't end up accidentally killing someone.

Yeah...like that thought process is going to last. Training sessions start out bleak and professional, he's only doing a job. Then as time continues, he finds himself enjoying your company, your enthusiasm to learn and your rambunctious/sarcastic comebacks always have him fighting off a smile. It's been a while since he's had company like this. Soon, you're both going out on missions, and then ice cream breaks afterward. He lets you fall asleep on his shoulder, drooling all over his trench coat after particularly difficult missions and he can't bring himself to mind.

He's fond of you, although he never admits it out loud. It's okay though, because even though he's never said it out loud, his actions speak louder than words. You could feel his love and pride for you. Although he wasn't exactly your dad per se, he was still something to you, maybe the wine uncle? You don't know, and you don't particularly care to put a label on what Constantine was to you, you're just glad that he's there.

Shit hits the fan, however, when one day you decide to go on a solo mission. It's nothing crazy, just getting rid of some poltergeists and low-level demons and shades. Now, were you given permission to go on this mission alone? No, but in a normal teenage manner, you decide to go anyway. Everything was fine, you got rid of all the poltergeists in the area and even some of the shades too! It's all going well until you realize that the demon mentioned before was not as weak as you were told. You gulped when its blood red eyes turned to you.

"Well shit." Constantine was going to kill you.

It immediately lunges at you, you barely rolling out of its sharp claws. You hit it with a couple of spells, causing the demon to roar out in pain, burn marks now littering its side. Its tail whips at you, colliding with your stomach as you fly into a wall with a loud thud. You groan as you pick yourself up, clutching your ribs, each breath a jagged pain that ripples through your chest. Your arm is slick with blood, the gashes from the demon's claws burning as if its very essence were trying to sear your flesh. You grit your teeth and weave another spell, calling on Adam’s power to knock the demon back. This time, a burst of raw energy slams into it, shattering its leg with a sickening crack.

For a brief moment, you think it's over, ready to strike the final blow. But the demon’s leg snaps back into place, bone and flesh knitting together as if the injury had never happened.

“Of course,” you mutter under your breath. “Why would this be easy?”

The demon lunges again, and you’re just a split second too slow. Burning pain flares through your right arm as its claws tear into you, ripping through your flesh like paper. You scream, the sound involuntary, but you push through the pain, refusing to go down without a fight.

Drawing back, you unleash another spell, a sharp projectile of energy aimed at its neck. The demon flinches, letting out a low growl. That reaction—panic—gives you the first glimmer of hope. Its neck. That's its weak spot.

With renewed determination, you gather every ounce of strength you have left. The cuts across your body throb, and your arm feels like it’s on fire, but you push it all aside. You can do this. You have to do this.

You unleash a volley of cutting spells, each one aimed at the demon’s throat. It fights back viciously, throwing you around the room with a strength that makes your vision blur. Every hit you take feels like your bones are splintering, but you keep going. You keep attacking.

Finally, one of your spells strikes true.

The demon lets out a gurgling screech as your spell cuts deep into its neck. Blood—thick and dark—pours from the wound, and it claws at its own throat, choking. Its body spasms violently, and then, as if collapsing in on itself, it begins to disintegrate. In a few seconds, all that’s left is dust.

You stand there, panting, barely able to process the fact that you did it. You won. A grin spreads across your face, and despite the pain radiating from every part of your body, you let out a weak cheer.

But the celebration is short-lived.

Pain cuts through you like a knife, sharp and sudden, reminding you of just how battered you are. Blood is still oozing from the various gashes across your body, and your arm feels like it’s hanging by a thread. You stumble, nearly falling, but catch yourself at the last second.

“Crap… I’m bleeding out,” you mumble, wincing. “Whoops.”

With what little energy you have left, you remember the spell Constantine taught you, the one that would tether you to him no matter where you were. He warned you not to use it unless it was an emergency—and bleeding out from demon-inflicted wounds definitely qualifies.

You lift your shaking hand and cast the spell, a sluggish flick of your wrist sending out a ripple of energy. A portal forms, shimmering and unstable, but functional enough. Without much grace, you stumble through it, disappearing from the demon’s lair.

What you didn’t know, however, was that Constantine was currently in a Justice League meeting.

The first thing you feel is a sudden drop, like the ground beneath you has vanished. You barely register the sensation of falling before you crash, hard, onto something solid. Groaning, you blink through the haze of pain and find yourself sprawled across a massive table.

You can hear voices—muffled, alarmed—but the world is spinning too much for you to focus. All you know is that you're lying on something cold and hard, and you’re absolutely drenched in blood.

Forcing your eyes open, you see several figures standing around you, staring in shock. Your vision is blurry, but you can make out Superman’s cape and Wonder Woman’s armor. You try to process what's happening, but the pain in your arm and ribs keeps pulling you under.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow. Fuckkkk." You cry out.

Suddenly, the scent of smoke fills the air. You don't even have to look to know who it is. Constantine’s familiar trench coat brushes against your arm as he crouches beside you, cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. His eyes flicker with a dangerous mix of exasperation and barely concealed anger.

“What in the bloody fuck, kid?” he snaps, his tone harsher than usual, but the concern underlies his words.

You wince, the situation hitting you all at once. Crap. Now I've got to deal with this.

You muster a weak, sheepish grin, wincing as you turn your head to face him. “Heyyy Constantine, how are ya?”

His brow furrows deeper, and he’s clearly not amused. “What did you do?”

You swallow hard, trying to think of how to explain yourself without getting ripped to shreds—verbally or otherwise. “I—well, promise you won’t get mad?”

“Too late for that, kid. I’m already halfway there,” he growls, his eyes narrowing as he looks over your wounds. “Now get to it.”

You bite your lip, trying to find the least disastrous way to explain. “So… I sorta… mighta… gone on a solo demon-hunting mission,” you blurt out quickly, hoping he’d just move past it.

The way Constantine’s eyes widen, and the immediate twitch in his jaw tell you that he’s definitely not going to move past it.

“You did what?!” His voice rises as he stands up, rubbing a hand over his face. “Oh bloody— I thought I specifically told you not to go by yourself! And this is what happens!”

“Hey, well, I’m alive, aren’t I?” you say, grinning nervously, trying to play it off.

“That’s besides the point!” He throws his arms up, pacing as he takes a long drag from his cigarette. “Bloody hell, I should’ve known better with you kids. I swear, this is why I never—”

Just then, a dark, grim voice cuts through the chaos, and your heart nearly stops.

“Constantine,” Batman’s tone is low, authoritative. “Why is my daughter bleeding on our table?”

Oh no. No, no, no. Not now.

You freeze, your mind going blank as you feel the weight of Batman’s presence at the end of the table. You slowly, painfully turn your head to see him standing there, cape draped over his shoulders, his gaze icy and locked onto you. His usual stoic expression somehow looks even more intense.

“Ah… shit,” you mutter under your breath, groaning inwardly as you realize you’ve just landed yourself in the absolute worst situation imaginable. “I completely forgot he was still here.” Wait, did you say that out loud?

Constantine gives you a sidelong glance, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, kid, you did. And now we’ve got more than just your wounds to worry about, don’t we?” He sighs deeply, rubbing his temples, already anticipating the fallout.

Batman’s eyes narrow, arms crossed as he takes a step closer to you, his voice low and dangerous. “Care to explain yourself?”

You’re still bleeding, your head is pounding, and you’re pretty sure at least a few bones are broken, but none of that compares to the fear creeping up your spine as you look up at your father. Your mind races for an answer, but every excuse you can think of feels flimsy at best.

Constantine clears his throat, sensing the rising tension in the room. “Right. Let’s get her fixed up before this turns into an interrogation, yeah? Kid’s bleeding all over the place, and she’s already taken a beating. We’ll save the lecture for later.” He waves his hand, muttering something under his breath as he kneels beside you again.

The tension between Constantine and Batman lingers in the air, thick and heavy, but Batman finally relents. His eyes soften—slightly—as he watches Constantine work to stabilize your injuries with magic.

You can feel yourself growing weaker, the adrenaline finally wearing off as the pain becomes unbearable. Constantine mutters a healing spell, one that slows the bleeding and knits some of the less serious cuts together. It's not perfect, but it’s enough for now.

“I think it’s time to get you all fixed up, huh?” Constantine says softly, his earlier anger tempered by concern as he helps you sit up, his hand firm on your back to support you.

You nod weakly, not daring to meet Batman’s eyes again. You’re in deep trouble, but for now, at least, you’re still breathing. As Constantine gets ready to teleport you to a safer place to heal, you hear Batman’s voice, calm but steely.

“We’re not done here.”

And with that ominous promise hanging in the air, Constantine picks you up, and the world around you shifts once again.

Constantine gently carries you through the halls toward the Justice League’s med bay, muttering curses under his breath with every step. You could feel his frustration radiating off him, and now, in the quiet aftermath of the fight, guilt begins to settle in your chest. The adrenaline from the battle has worn off, and now you're left with the consequences of your reckless actions.

“Hey, Constantine… I—I’m sorry for not listening to you. I really am,” you say, your voice soft and heavy with regret.

He sighs, not looking at you, but his tone is stern. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not mad at you, kid. You didn’t just ignore my warnings—you put yourself in danger. There are rules for a reason. What if you got seriously hurt and couldn’t cast a spell back to me? Even worse, what if you died or got possessed?”

His words hit you hard, and you wither under the weight of them. You know he’s right. All those rules and restrictions aren’t just him being overprotective or controlling, they’re because he cares. He’s seen the kind of darkness that can swallow people whole, and the thought of that happening to you terrifies him, even if he’ll never say it out loud.

By the time you reach the med bay, the guilt feels like it’s pressing down on you as much as the pain in your ribs. Constantine lowers you onto a cot, tucking you in with a gruff gentleness that only he could pull off. He sits down on the side of the bed, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with a quick flick of his fingers, his eyes never leaving yours.

“What I’m trying to say, kid,” he starts, exhaling a cloud of smoke, “is that I care. I care about you, I care about what happens to you. I don’t want—” He pauses, his voice softening. “I don’t want to ever have to find your body one day. So please, from now on, let me know before you do something stupid like this.”

His words hang in the air, raw and unfiltered. You nod, trying to process it all, and then something clicks in your mind. Wait… did he just say let him know?

“Let you know? Does this mean—” Your eyes widen as realization hits you. “Does this mean I can go on solo missions?”

Constantine lets out a resigned sigh. “Yes, yes, you can start going on solo missions—”

“Hell yeah!” you exclaim, sitting up a little too quickly. Pain shoots through your ribs, but you can’t help the excitement bubbling inside you.

“—but, only the ones I sanction and authorize,” Constantine finishes, cutting through your excitement with a stern look. You deflate a little at his words, but it’s still a victory in your book.

Without thinking, you throw your arms around him, ignoring the sharp pain it causes in your ribs. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise I won’t let you down!”

He chuckles, patting your back awkwardly before pulling away. “Yeah, yeah, I know you won’t. Now, lay back down and get some rest. You still have dark and brooding to deal with.” He gestures toward the direction of the meeting room, clearly dreading the inevitable confrontation with Batman. “And by extension, I do too,” he adds with a heavy sigh.

You groan, sinking back into the cot, the exhaustion finally catching up with you. “I don’t know why he even cares. If he did, he would’ve figured this out ages ago.”

Constantine glances at you, his expression softening for a moment. He takes a long drag of his cigarette before speaking. “He cares, kid. He just… doesn’t always show it the way you want him to. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel it.”

You scoff, though part of you knows he’s right. “Yeah, well, doesn’t feel like it.”

Constantine stands, taking one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it into a nearby ashtray. “Doesn’t matter how it feels right now. The Bat’s going to want answers, and if I know him, he’s going to want to have a very long talk with you. You’re not out of the woods yet.”

You wince at the thought of the upcoming conversation, knowing that Batman’s interrogation will be thorough and far less forgiving than Constantine’s.

“Great,” you mutter, closing your eyes and sinking deeper into the cot. “Just what I need.”

Constantine gives you a small, almost affectionate smile before turning to leave. “Get some rest, kid. You’ve earned it. I’ll deal with the big bad Bat for now.”

And with that, he walks out, leaving you alone in the med bay. As much as you’re dreading what’s to come, you can’t help but feel a sense of relief. Despite the pain and the mistakes you made, you know that Constantine’s got your back. And, maybe, just maybe, Batman does too, even if it’s buried under a mountain of brooding and silence.

For now, though, you let the exhaustion pull you under, trusting that everything else can wait until tomorrow.

-

As you rest, your body finally succumbing to the exhaustion, your breathing evens out and your mind drifts into sleep. The med bay is quiet, sterile, but the tension in the air lingers, waiting for the inevitable. Eventually, a dark, caped figure glides into the room silently, his form casting long shadows across the walls.

Batman—no, Bruce—stands over you, his sharp eyes tracing every bruise, every cut that mars your face. His jaw clenches as a million thoughts swirl in his head, none of them offering any comfort.

What the hell happened to you? Why are you and Constantine so close? How did you even know Constantine? How much had he missed—how little attention had he been paying—to not notice any of this?

Bruce sighs, a deep and frustrated sound. He removes his cowl, setting it on the side table with a weary hand. Without it, he seems less intimidating, less imposing. He stares down at you, seeing the cuts and bruises marking your skin, but what hits him harder is the way your face, in sleep, is still so achingly young. You're his daughter, and yet it feels like you're a stranger to him now.

How did you get so far away?

He knows the answer. The fault lies with him, with the choices he made, the excuses he repeated to himself—telling himself he was too busy, telling himself he would check in later. Later never came, though, and the space between you widened, until it wasn't just him you were drifting away from, but your brothers too.

Bruce noticed the way your brothers treated you, the harsh words, the cold shoulders. He saw the distance, but he justified it, telling himself it was sibling rivalry or something that would pass. He didn't step in. And now, as he looks at you lying there, bruised and battered from a fight he wasn’t even aware of, the reality sinks in: he has no excuse.

With a heavy sigh, Bruce reaches out, his rough but careful hand carding gently through your hair. The gesture is tender, hesitant, as if he's not sure whether he has the right to touch you like this anymore. But as his fingers comb through your hair, you stir in your sleep, a quiet murmur escaping your lips as you unconsciously lean into his touch. It's such a sweet, innocent moment, and for a brief second, Bruce allows himself to feel the warmth of it.

But the moment is fleeting.

He feels the presence before he sees it, the unmistakable smell of cigarette smoke filling the room. His jaw tightens as his hand stills. He doesn’t turn right away, but his voice cuts through the silence.

“Constantine,” Bruce says, his tone gruff even without the cowl to disguise it.

Constantine steps into the room more fully, leaning against the wall, a half-smoked cigarette between his lips. He regards Bruce with that same nonchalance he carries everywhere, though there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—something more cautious.

"Thought you’d still be brooding over in the corner," Constantine says, taking a drag of his cigarette. His eyes drift to you, lying peacefully on the cot. “Didn’t expect to see this version of you.”

Bruce doesn’t respond right away. He pulls his hand back from your hair, his gaze hardening. "What happened?" The question is direct, but underneath it, Constantine can hear the concern, the frustration Bruce doesn't voice aloud.

"She went off on her own," Constantine mutters, taking another drag before blowing out a cloud of smoke. "Went after a demon. Got roughed up pretty bad, but she handled it in the end. Strong kid. Stubborn too. Wonder where she gets that from, eh?"

Bruce's eyes narrow. "And you let her?"

"Let her?" Constantine laughs, a short, sharp sound. "Mate, I didn’t let her. She went behind my back, just like she’s gone behind yours for who knows how long. Difference is, I’m the one she actually came back to.”

That lands like a punch to Bruce's gut. He doesn’t react visibly, but Constantine can see the tension in his posture.

"I didn't know she was…" Bruce starts, then stops, shaking his head. The words feel inadequate. "I didn't know she was involved with this stuff, i didn't even know she was a meta. Or that she knew you."

"Yeah, well, she found her way to me," Constantine says with a shrug, stubbing out his cigarette on the wall. “And she's not a meta by the way, she's a vessel for some eldritch being"

A vague expression of surprise appears on Bruce's face.

"I don't blame you, mate. I was surprised to find her alive afterwards. Not just anyone survives that kind of transformation, she's strong.”

Bruce crosses his arms, his gaze flickering between you and Constantine. “I know she’s strong.”

“Do you?” Constantine raises an eyebrow, the challenge clear in his tone. “Because she’s been running herself ragged trying to prove it. To you. To herself. And, hell, maybe to me too, but at least I see it.”

There’s silence for a moment. Bruce clenches his jaw, turning to look at you again, sleeping soundly despite the tension in the room. He knew Constantine was right. You'd been pushing yourself, fighting to show that you didn’t need them—that you were strong enough on your own. And he had let you. He'd let you because he didn't even care to notice.

Constantine sighs, sensing the weight of the silence. “Look, I didn’t come here to throw stones. But you’ve got to get your shit together with her. She’s tough, but she’s still a kid, and she’s your kid. She needs you.”

Bruce doesn’t answer, but his silence speaks volumes. He watches you, the soft rise and fall of your chest, and feels the regret gnawing at him.

“I’ll handle it,” Bruce finally says, though the words feel hollow.

Constantine gives him a long look, then nods. “You better. Because if you don’t, she’ll be right back with me..”

With that, Constantine pushes off the wall, flicking away the last of his cigarette. “I’ll check in on her later. Try not to fuck this up, mate.” And with one last glance at you, Constantine leaves, the tension in the room ebbing with him.

Bruce remains, standing over you, his mind a whirlwind of regret, guilt, and the desire to fix what’s been broken for far too long. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead—something he hasn’t done in what feels like years—before stepping back, pulling the chair beside your bed to sit vigil over you.

He’s still not sure how to bridge the gap, but for now, he stays. It’s a start.

Well, thats all folks! I really enjoyed writing this au, so thanks for the idea! Maybe ill even make a pt. 2 to this? Who knows? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it.

[evilgwrl]

Neighbour!Simon Riley x Reader

Girl Next Door (One)

CW: Mutual masturbation ;)

Inspired by Neighbour!Simon

Chapter Two

Your legs perched up across the woven strings of the porch chair, knees littered with blue and black kisses, knotted joints tucked into your chest as you watched the peak of gold settle into a deep blue. Bony fingers laced the pages between parched hands, eyes darting maliciously between words as you hummed to yourself softly.

You were used to being out here alone, an orchestra of bats occasionally sounding out to you as they scurried away into pine trees, nipping between each other.  Your flat, a smaller duplex, was tucked away into a quiet cul-de-sac, away from the hustle and bustle of London life. It was an organised routine, your body succumbing to the night air as you bathed in the comforting atmosphere of the twilight. There was an occasional hum from up the road, the chug of a car passing through, but your interest peaked when the gravel road lit up, headlights streaming towards you as you shielded your eyes.

The sound of the engine frightened you a bit before you adjusted your vision. A large shadow stepped into view, the staggering height of a man peaking your attention before you took in the balaclava flushed against his face, russet eyes covered by a delicate frame of blonde lashes, stained with black face paint staring at you before dropping his head in a curt nod.

You recognised him as your neighbour. Quiet bloke, away often on deployment you presumed, but nether-the-less was a comfort for you. Even at home, it was like he was never there, the occasional echo of hollow boots sounding against the floorboards before they disappeared. He was ghostly, slightly peculiar but you noted him down mainly as mysterious.

You had spoken a few times, sounding good morning as he was outside having a smoke when you were leaving for work. His response was gruff and shallow, a deep voice barking out a short reply before smashing the dart under the rubble of his shoe, calloused hands gripping the door handle.

He walked past you, duffle bag dropped against the porch as he huffed with his keys, bruised knuckles peaking your attention as you glanced at him, framed eyes peering in curiosity.

“Y’ alright?” His tone was curt, a hint of annoyance ringing through as his eyes stained trained on the metal knob, working the key through the hole.

You squeaked out a noise, taken back by him as you adjusted in the chair, feet flat against the floor now. “Yeah, sorry, I’m just not used to you being here, it’s uh, nice for you to be back, less lonely,” you rambled, shuffling your hands awkwardly before you shut yourself up.

He let out a grunt, the noise almost animalistic sounding as he shut the door, his vague appearance shuffling into the quiet of his own home as you sat outside, whispering an expletive under your breath as you prodded at the ecchymosis on your nobbled knees.

Rough hands rubbed at the face paint, gentle soap working into the scorn skin, thickened skin almost melting under the velocity of the scolding water. Simon’s throat was scratchy, the irritating feeling of sandpaper lining his oesophagus as he choked out a cough. Broken blood vessels littered across the scarring of his back and ribs, a splurge of hematoma drawn across the broken skin.

Ivory skin was now painted with falling droplets of water, a scratchy moose-coloured towel adorned his hips as he shook his hair, moist residue landing on the mirror as he rubbed his hands across his face, a soft moan leaving his lips as he prodded the tender knot in his back.  

His home felt foreign, no matter how long he had lived there for.

His bedroom had dusk lighting, a double bed pushed against the flaky walls, the metal rods holding the frame scraping at the paint. A singular pillow to each side perked up against his touch as he layered them, unused linen welcoming him with a slight dusty smell, aching body collapsing into the plushness of the duvet.

He was aware that your bedroom was adjacent to his, your beds pushed directly together on opposite ends. He could hear the subtle creaks of your feet against the floor as you shuffled around, a chair squeaking across the floor as it collided with something before the noise of you walking sounded again. Simon could hear the springs in your bed, an acknowledgement that you were now lying down.

There was a low hum of a fan whirring, the white noise drifting into his room as he stared up at his own, the stagnant noise felt unorthodox, the familiarity of the barracks being the usual for the Lieutenant. Simon’s hands felt weighed down as he moved them from his chest to rest at his side, his breathing shallow as his ears perked at every movement you made.

You were restless, sweaty body tangled between cotton as you adjusted yourself, flinging your blankets off you as you let out gentle pants. You cursed at the lack of air conditioning available in British homes, peeling off your silken pyjama shorts as you flung them somewhere across your bedroom. Your body was hot and achy, the heat settling in even during the night as you turned to the side, beady eyes watching as the wind flickered the branches occasionally. You were tempted to sleep outside at this point, your room feeling like a sauna as you let out a frustrated quip.

There was a subtle ache between your thighs, a dull throbbing ringing through your brain as you attempted to position yourself better, clicking your calves as you rustled around. Tired arms stretched your top over your head as it too met the wraith of your floor, bare breasts perked against your sheets as you closed your eyes, cuddling up against a pillow.

Slumber never succumbed to your heated frame, the drill of your fan almost teasing you as it provided minimum cooling. You spread your legs, sweat prickling over your stretch marks as you moaned in annoyance. Your fingers trailed your slit through the thin fabric, turquoise-coloured panties fading into an aqua as you let out a shaky breath. You felt dirty, the dull throb of your cunt mocking you as needy fingers hooked into the lace, dragging them down the plushness of your thighs before settling at the end of your bed.

You fumbled around in your draw, clumsy fingers feeling around for your bullet vibrator before they rubbed against the silicone. You were sure to be quiet, your hands covering the majority of the vibrations as you nestled it between your folds, collecting the sweetness of your slick before resting it on your achy clit, an instant moan rising at your throat as you tweaked at your nipples.

The hum against your sex wasn’t enough as you sat up, resting the vibrator on your swollen nub as you straddled a pillow, sloppy pussy grinding against it rapidly as you rutted like a dog in heat, chasing your high.

You were a sight for sore eyes, breasts bouncing at your movements as you humped against the cushion, the cheap sex toy sounding against the bundle of nerves as you let out soft whimpers, mouth opened in an ‘o’ shape as you tugged at your hardened nubs that were practically aching against your chest.

It was like you were going through puberty again, squishy sounds squelching from your cunt at the licentious actions, hips getting sloppy as you felt your coil forming, antagonising moans dripping from your lips as you stilled, the silicone pressed sweetly into your clit as you whined into your hand, orgasm ripping through you as you jutted away from the stimulation, collapsing into a heap.

Simon frowned at how quickly your noises were over as a spit-covered cock throbbed in agony, veiny hands jutting around the angry member as he milked himself to the memory of your orgasm, hot splashes of cum spurting against his belly, a thick trail of hair leading down to his softening cock as he cleaned himself up before nestling into the comfort of his sheets and the barely audible hum of your breathing.

[obsesssedblerd]

PLS PLS PLS DO A FIC WHERE GOJO AND Y/N ADOPT THE FIRST YEARS BASED ON THAT SMAU PLSSSSSSS

I GOT YOU ANON!!!! oh, i've been dying to write this one!

Filling the Empty Spaces 

Synopsis: You always thought that the house that you and your new husband, Satoru, lived in was way too big. One night after a rough mission, the both of you decide to keep an eye on Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara as they recover. You grow to love their company, and realize that they fit so perfectly not just in your house, but also your life.

Wc: 5.1k

Contains: teeth-rotting fluff, soft husband! gojo, yuuji no longer being sukuna’s vessel, gojo and reader are married, reader has a technique but it’s not explained, reader used to be a teacher but quit, gojo and reader adopting the first years, only a dash of angst, pregnancy (but only at the end), some suggestiveness but no smut, everyone is happy bc i said so. (gege don’t ever let me catch you)

a/n: this has to be the sweetest thing i’ve ever written in my life lol. also this is barely proof-read, so sorry for any mistakes!

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

Even with all of yours and Satoru’s belongings, the house that was left for him was still insanely huge. Your footsteps echo in the hallway as you mentally count the empty spaces. Three empty bedrooms, three empty bathrooms, another large room that could be considered a second living room. You knew it was big; Satoru said it was prior to you two getting married and moving in, but you wondered if you’d ever get used to having that much extra space. 

“Oh, wifeyyyy,” Satoru calls out to you in his usual, sing-songy tone, his voice echoing throughout the hallway. “Where are you?” 

“Near the kitchen!” You call back to him. 

Your tall and handsome husband appears not even a minute later. The corner of his mouth pulls upwards into a smirk as he sees you sitting on the counter of the kitchen island. “Well, hello there, Mrs. Gojo.” 

Your heart stutters in your chest, and you cast your eyes downward. “It’s gonna take a while before I get used to that.” You smile and lift up your left hand, allowing the gorgeous diamond on your fourth finger to glimmer in the sunlight that filled the space. “I still can’t believe it.” 

Satoru steps in front of you and grabs your hand, bringing it to his mouth and placing a small kiss on your palm. “Believe it, pretty girl,” he says, his cerulean eyes meeting yours. He takes your other hand, then tugs upward so your arms are around his neck, his own hands settling on your hips. Your fingers brush against his undercut, then play with his soft white hair. “After all.” His voice dips to a sensual purr as his face inches closer. “I did tell you that I was going to make you my wife, didn’t I?” 

He kisses you, and you sigh blissfully into his mouth as your eyes shut. Despite being practically glued to him during your two-week honeymoon on a beautiful island, you still craved him. His hand barely slides underneath your shirt before his phone starts ringing. He groans, and you giggle as he pulls away and grabs his phone out of his pocket. “Work?” You ask. 

“Work. However, it’s Yuuji, not Yaga.” Satoru answers and begins talking while you hop off of the counter and decide to make both of you some tea. It wouldn’t be long before the sun begins to set, so you start thinking about what to make for dinner. 

You look over to see Satoru’s brows furrowed. “Ah, I see,” he said to Yuuji on the other line. “Well, good to hear that you made it back to the school safely. Are you three alright? Megumi went to see Shoko for that injury?” 

That worries you. From the sound of it, the first years went on another dangerous mission this afternoon. You knew that Kento Nanami was watching them, but with three students and dangerous curses, anything could happen. “I think I’ve come across a curse like that before,” Satoru says. “You get sick only after it hits you with that goo. Since you and Nobara only got a bit of it on you, you won’t die. However, it still concerns me. One second, okay?” 

He tilts the phone away from him and turns to look at you. “Megumi got injured. Shoko healed him but needs to rest for at least a few days. Yuuji and Nobara might also become sick.”

Your heart sinks. Yuuji, Megumi and Nobara were just kids. You remember battling curses as a teen alongside Satoru and Suguru Geto before he became a curse-user, but becoming an adult and watching the next generation of students throw themselves into battle gave you an entirely different feeling. Around two months ago, Yuuji officially separated from Ryomen Sukuna and was freed from the burden of being his vessel; but you were getting a feeling that he still wanted to prove himself as a sorcerer by going on tough missions, all so he could stay around. 

“They’re gonna need someone to keep an eye on them for a while. Everyone else at the school is busy,” you say, and Satoru nods. You pause on making the tea, then make a decision. “Alright, have Ichiji bring them here. We have plenty of space, as you can see, and I can help them out while you’re at work over the next few days.” 

After all, the first years didn’t have anyone else. 

Satoru kisses your forehead, then tells Yuuji the plan. Meanwhile, you double-check the three empty rooms and bathrooms. Each of them had freshly made beds, clean bathrooms and some decorative furniture—thanks to the housekeeping that maintained this house before you and Satoru moved in. 

While you were thinking hard about some extra items that you didn’t have, Satoru comes up behind you and places his hands on your shoulders, which immediately slump under his touch. You sigh as he rubs the tension from them. “Baby, whatever we don’t have, and they need it, we can just buy it. Yuuji’s telling them to pack enough clothes for a while. Just relax. It’ll be okay.” 

Right. It’ll be fine. 

— — — — —

When Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara arrive, your face splits into a wide smile. You haven’t seen them since you and Satoru got married. A rush of movement, and the pink-haired teenager is hugging you tight, excitedly rambling about how much he missed you. The brown-haired girl is next, and Nobara literally squeals as she hugs you. Finally, the dark-haired teen, who is much calmer than his fellow first years. However, he doesn’t shy away when you hug him gently—being careful not to touch his side that was injured in battle—and he mumbles that it’s good to see you. 

“Wow, this house is huge!” Nobara exclaims as she wanders around the kitchen, then the living room. 

As always, Yuuji matches her high energy. “No kidding. There’s like a million rooms in this place!” 

Satoru chuckles. He was dressed in his usual uniform and blindfold, leaning against the wall of the living room with his hands shoved into his pockets. “I’m glad you like it. This place was left for me. I knew that I wanted to move in here only if I got married. For a while, I thought I’d never touch it. Then I met that lovely sorcerer over there.” 

Your cheeks heat, and the students ‘aw’ over his words. The oven dings, and you spring up. “Great, dinner’s done. Give me some time to set up.” 

Satoru and Nobara sit with Megumi on the couch in the living room to watch TV, and Yuuji follows you to help set the table in the dining room. “You don’t want to go sit down?” You ask, reaching over to ruffle the boy’s hair. “You’ve had a long day.” 

“It’s okay, I wanna help. Besides, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you. I missed talking with you.” 

Your heart swells. You pass him some plates and some silverware, and he stacks it so he can take it to the table. “How are you holding up?” You ask as you pull the food you prepared out of the oven. 

“Doing good. It definitely feels nice not having his voice in my head anymore,” he says from the dining room, neatly arranging the dishes. Five plates, five glasses, five sets of silverware. “Or worrying about him taking my body at any second. Just knowing that no one has to deal with him ever again brings me so much peace.” 

“I’m so proud of you.” You take off of your oven mitts and walk towards him. “So is Satoru and the rest of your teachers, and so is your grandfather. He’d be happy knowing that you’re still helping people by fighting curses.” 

That makes Yuuji pause. His smile is still there, but it wobbles at the corners. He turns away from you to hide his face, but the tremble in his shoulders is impossible for him to conceal. “Yuuji,” you call softly, and he sniffles, still turned around. Your heart aches, and you pull him to you. He immediately wraps his arms around you as his head settles onto your chest, his body shaking as he sobs quietly. You were thankful that the TV was on in the living room so he could have this moment privately. 

“It’s okay to cry,” you whisper as you stroke his hair. “Everything’s alright. You’re brave, but it’s okay to break down, too.” 

“Only reason I‘m alive is because you and Gojo-sensei fought against my execution.” He uses a sleeve of his jacket to wipe his tears. “I’ll be honest. There were so many times where I thought I wasn’t going to make it, or if it would be impossible to be separated from Sukuna without hurting anyone else. But you two had so much hope for me, and it pushed me to keep fighting.” 

Tears fill your eyes, and you blink them back. “I’ll always fight for you, you hear me?” Yuuji nods, and you let him hug you for as long as you like. 

Unbeknownst to you, Satoru watches you both from the living room with a gentle smile. 

— — — — — 

Dinner is filled with fun stories, jokes, and plenty of laughter. Once everyone has finished eating, Satoru and Yuuji do the dishes while you and Nobara help Megumi into one of the spare rooms after his shower. 

“The bed’s super comfortable,” Megumi says, not fighting a single bit when you cover him with the blanket. “Thank you.” 

“You better get some rest, Fushiguro,” Nobara says seriously as she crosses her arms. “Shoko said four days.” 

“She’s right,” Yuuji comments as he walks into the room, sitting next to her on the edge of Megumi’s bed. “Not a single hour before.” 

Megumi frowns. “You both are being dramatic.”

“Look, if Kugisaki and I have to lock you in here so you can rest, then that’s exactly what we’ll do.” 

“Yup!” Nobara agrees with her usual grin, popping the p for extra dramatics. “And if that doesn’t work, we’ll just call the Gojos. Do you really want to get lectured by them?” 

That makes you laugh. “Alright, you two, I think he gets it.” You gently fix Megumi’s hair—noting that his eyes were beginning to droop with exhaustion—then stand up. “Besides, you both might also be on bedrest. You did get hit by that curse earlier, and Satoru said that the effects won’t kick in until tomorrow. So it’s important that you two get plenty of sleep as well.” 

Yuuji and Nobara say goodnight to Megumi, then the three of you leave his room. You decide to take your shower, making a mental list of groceries to buy for tomorrow now that the first years were staying with you for a few days. When you exit the bathroom in some sleepwear, you hear quiet giggling and snickering coming from the kitchen. You scoff, put on your house slippers and go investigate. 

First, you see your husband’s white hair in the dimly-lit kitchen. You flip on the light switch, and burst out laughing at the sight. Satoru, Yuuji, and Nobara were stuffing their faces with cupcakes, all dressed in their pajamas. They were Satoru’s favorite, and he requested them from you every chance he got. “Now, what is going on here?” You ask. 

“His idea,” Nobara attempts to mumble with her mouth full as she points at Satoru. Yuuji immediately nods in agreement and also points at his teacher. Satoru only shrugs with his usual smile, using a thumb to wipe away the blue icing on his lips before licking it clean. Then he offers you one. “Here, have one. They’re delicious.” 

“No, silly, it’s late.” You put the cupcake back in its container, then hand the two teens a napkin. “And you two should be getting some rest. Megumi’s already fast asleep.” 

Surprisingly, they don’t put up a fight. You happily do skincare with Nobara in the bathroom of the bedroom that she was using, and you both make plans to go shopping for some face masks once they’re all feeling better. When she finishes moisturizing her face, she gives you another hug. “Missed you,” she mumbles into your shoulder. 

“Aw, sweetheart,” you sigh as you return the hug. “I’ve missed you as well. Was it a long few weeks for you?” 

“Well, kinda,” she says as she pulls away, then goes to sit on her bed. “I know you and Gojo-sensei were on your honeymoon, and we expected that, but we’re all just getting used to the fact that you’ve officially quit working at the school. We support it, but it sucks knowing that we’re not going to see you as much.” 

The thinly-veiled sadness in her eyes makes your gut twist. Of course they were going to miss you. You saw them and worked with them every single day. “Nobara, I’m always going to be here for you. Just because I no longer work there, that doesn’t mean I still can’t visit or even help out with you three.” 

Nobara rests her head on your shoulder, and you rub a comforting hand up and down her back. “Promise?” she asks quietly. 

“I promise.” 

When she goes to bed, you leave her room and shut the door behind you. Finally, you walk to Yuuji’s room, which is still lit up. You get to the doorway, and you hide a laugh when you see that he fell asleep almost immediately after laying down. More than likely got more comfortable than he thought when he tested the bed. You adjust the pillow so it’s under his head, pull the blanket over his body, mess with his hair once more, then switch the lamp off so he can rest. You leave, then shut the door. 

“They all fell asleep so quickly,” you say to Satoru once you walk into your spacious, shared bedroom. You climb into bed next to him, sighing when you feel the soft, silk sheets against your skin. Like every night, he tugs you into his large, muscular arms, and you rest your head against his chest. 

This was your favorite spot to be; in the arms of the strongest, most powerful man in the whole world. Satoru was protective in every sense of the word. Nothing would ever happen to you as long as you were with him. 

“I’m certain that those rooms are much more comfortable than the dorms at the school,” he says. You feel his hand rubbing soothing patterns against your arm. “So, what’s your plan for tomorrow?” 

“Keeping an eye on them. I’m almost one hundred percent positive that they’re all going to be sleeping most of the day.” You then press a kiss against Satoru’s jaw. “And when you get home from work tomorrow, I expect you to rest, too. I know you’re dealing with the higher-ups.” 

“Eh, who cares about them?” Satoru scoffs. “I tune them out.” 

“Yeah, you really gotta stop doing that.” 

— — — — — — — — 

Your morning starts early. You’re barely awake when you feel Satoru kiss your cheek, whispering in your ear that he loves you and that he’ll see you after work. You sleep for about another half-hour, then decide to get up. After brushing your teeth, you walk down the hallway leading to the kitchen. The sun is already shining through the large windows of the sunroom, and you pause in your tracks when you see Megumi, silently reading one of the many books you kept in there. 

He’s sitting on a bean bag chair towards the corner of the room, and you notice two more books on the ground next to him. When he sees you staring, he sits up and shuts the book. “Sorry.” The apology comes out in a faint, yet frantic rush. “I-I was just curious, and I’ve never seen a huge collection like this, and—” 

“Megumi.” Your soft voice stops him, and his shoulders slump in relief when he sees you smile and sit in the bean bag chair adjacent to his. “It’s alright. Books are meant to be read. I’m just happy you found this room. I thought you might like it.” 

“It’s so peaceful here,” he comments as he looks around slowly, taking in the beauty of your favorite room in the house. One wall is lined with books, neatly organized on floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall shelves. There is also a tall ladder that slides smoothly across the shelves, which aids you whenever a book is placed far too high. The rest of the room is filled with bean bag chairs, plants, and a few small, decorative statues. 

You tilt your head to get a closer look at the book in his hand. “What are you reading?” 

“A sci-fi,” he says, “I’ve kind of been interested in them since watching Human Earthworm with Itadori.” 

“Ah.” You stand up, drag the ladder towards the middle of the shelves, then climb up to retrieve a duology. “I think you’ll like this series, then. In addition to the books you also have with you.” 

Megumi rubs the back of his head bashfully. “I hope I’ll have enough time to get through these,” he says, then yawns. “And energy. Still tired even though I slept for a while.” 

“Your body needs rest, and it’s okay. You can keep the books until you’re finished. Take your time.” 

Megumi smiles at that. It’s small, but it’s there, and you love it. “Thank you.” 

“Of course.” 

— — — — — — 

Like you expected, Yuuji and Nobara weren’t feeling good that morning. They had some body aches, chills and a light cough. Luckily, they had you to look after them. You prepared soup for the three of them, and you made sure they were comfortable and hydrated. When Satoru returned from work, he gave all three of them medicine to help with any pain. The both of you kept an eye on them as they slept. 

Over the next few days, they were all feeling better, however, both you and Satoru kept making excuses to keep them for another day. What if their cold comes back? Or, Maybe Shoko miscalculated and Megumi needed a few more days to fully recover?

Even when the first years were well enough to start going on missions again, Satoru had made it a habit to bring them back with him at the end of the day. You’ve also made new habits since the first years entered your home. Every morning, you would make breakfast for everyone to enjoy at the table. You loved seeing Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara’s smiles, or hearing them groan whenever Satoru made a joke that was just a little too cheesy. And their hugs. Oh, you loved their hugs. You hugged them before they went off to jujutsu high with Satoru each morning, and you hugged them each night before bed. 

After about six weeks, you were so used to them being over every night; so much to the point that you and Satoru stared at Yuuji in confusion when he asked if you were tired of them. Both of you had never said, “No,” so fast in your lives.

Not only were you used to it, you loved it. You loved sitting quietly in the sunroom with Megumi, enjoying each other’s company while reading your respective books. You loved listening to Yuuji’s wild stories about his epic adventures as a sorcerer, even better when Satoru joined in and helped him with the dramatics. You loved doing face masks and painting your nails with Nobara. You were pretty sure you spent up to a few hours each week in the bathroom with her, laughing joyfully and listening to music as you played around with cosmetics. 

You loved movie nights with the five of you sitting together on the couch, passing popcorn and other treats amongst each other. You loved it when each of the teens came to you about what was bothering them. By the second month, all of them had trusted you enough to cry around you. You loved comforting them—being a sorcerer is hard and gruesome, and anyone would need support. You loved holding them, wiping their tears, and feeling them settle when you reassure them that you and Satoru would keep them safe. You loved seeing them play silly games in the spacious backyard. Sometimes, you and Satoru joined them so you could have fun with them. 

Before any one of you knew it, five months of this had passed. 

At that point, Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara’s dorms back at the school were practically deserted, and the once-empty guest bedrooms of yours and Satoru’s home were filled with their belongings. Clothes, shoes, books, posters, souvenirs, trinkets, and photographs. You and your husband never did hold back when it came to spoiling them, whether with materials or experiences. You had noticed that the three of them were glowing. Louder laughs, smiles that reach their eyes, sleeping better, feeling more comfortable, and overall, looking much happier. 

“They feel loved,” Nanami had told you once you explained it to him on a day you went to visit the school. “Everyone glows when they feel loved.” 

— — — — — 

“We should adopt them.” 

At Satoru’s words, you look up from your book to face him. He’s laying down in your shared bed, facing the ceiling with an arm tucked behind his head. It is nearly midnight, and you are the only ones awake in the house. “Really?” You ask, unable to hide your smile. You shut your book and put it on the bedside table. This was a conversation that you’ve been hoping to have for a while. Finally, you’re talking about adopting those three and officially having them as your kids.

“Yeah.” He sighs as he sits up. “I like having them here, and I can tell that you do, too. I can also tell that they like being here. They’re much more relaxed. Yuuji and Nobara are sleeping so much better, and plus, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Megumi smile so much.” 

“I love having them here,” you say. You reach for his hand, and he clasps it with yours, intertwining your fingers together. “I don’t want them to ever go back to that school. They’re so happy here. I want to keep them happy. Besides, if we adopt them, I’m pretty sure that would keep the higher-ups from deciding to toss them into reckless missions simply because they have no legal guardian. They’d have to go through us first, right?” 

“They’d have to go through us first regardless.” Satoru then chuckles. “Have you been wanting to talk about adopting them, pretty girl? You seem like you’ve put so much thought into this.”

“You have no idea.” 

“I wish you said something sooner. Honestly, we could’ve done this a few months ago.” 

You kiss his cheek, then rest your chin on his shoulder. “Well,” you start, “I remember you saying that you were hesitant about starting a family towards the beginning of our relationship a few years back. I didn’t know if your mind had changed or not. Adopting three teenagers falls into that category.” 

“Ah, so that’s why you never talked about it recently,” he says with a thoughtful hum. “Before we got together, I didn’t know how I felt about having a family, simply because I got to a point where I could never see myself having such a thing. But, then I fell in love with you, and in love with life with you. I’d love to start a family with you.” He kisses your hand, then continues, “And I’m not just talking about adopting Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara.”

You gasp lightly, and your heart begins to race in excitement. You lift your head, then turn your body so you’re directly in front of him. “Satoru.” Your voice comes out in a barely-audible whisper. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” 

Gentleness glimmers in his blue eyes, and he uses a hand to stroke your cheek. You instinctively lean into the touch, and his thumb wipes away the tear that barely slides from the corner of your eye. “If you want to,” he starts, “and if you’re ready, I’d love to have a baby with you.” 

You think you’re dreaming. You feel like your body’s about to explode. It takes everything not to squeal loudly and wake up the teens. You smile and nod, wiping away the tears of joy before they blur your vision any further. “I’d love that, too.” 

Satoru leans in and kisses you. It’s slow, loving and so very gentle. He slightly trembles, and you open your eyes to see that he was also tearing up from the happiness. “I love you.” His voice is low, yet shaky. “I love you so fucking much.” He kisses you again, then moves from your mouth, slowly down your neck. “I’ll take care of you. All of you.” He gently pushes you back against the sheets, and you sigh as his hands trail down your body. You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. 

“All five of you.” 

— — — — — 

“So, you wanted to talk with us?” Yuuji asks. 

You, Satoru, and the teens all sit on the luxurious couch in the living room the next morning. Since there’s no missions for them, they get to relax at home. All three of them were still cozy in their pajamas, and they finished eating their breakfast not too long ago. 

“Yes,” you say as you sit up. “So, it’s been five months of you all staying here.” 

At once, Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara stiffen, then share grim looks with each other. It confuses you, and before you can ask about it, Nobara sits up. She gulps hard, and you know from her staying with you for so long that it’s because she’s trying to choke back tears so they wouldn’t form in her eyes. “It’s okay,” she says, “we understand. We knew that this would be a temporary thing.” 

“Huh?” Satoru asks, also confused. You can tell that his brows are furrowed underneath his blindfold. “What’re you—” 

“I mean, five months is a lot. We get it. You didn’t have to keep us for this long, but you did. Thank you,” Megumi says. 

Yuuji nods with a smile, but you know it’s a fake one. It makes your heart ache. “Just know that we’re extremely grateful for everything.” 

“Every last bit of it. Thank you so much,” Nobara chimes in. 

“Okay, all of you, stop.” Your voice is firm, and it silences them all at once. Megumi is facing the ground to hide his face, Yuuji’s fake smile fades as he casts his eyes downward, and Nobara looks over at the wall, nervously chewing at her lip. “This isn’t what you think it is. Satoru and I don’t want you three to leave.” 

Now it’s their turn to look confused. However, they’re all finally looking directly at you, and that makes you feel a little bit better. “We were going to ask if you’d like to make it permanent, because we’d love to adopt you three.” 

They gasp, and their eyes widen in shock. It’s silent for a few beats, then Nobara faintly asks, “...What?” 

Satoru chuckles, then claps his hands together once. “Aw, c’mon, Nobara! Surely, you know what ‘permanent’ means!” You roll your eyes. Adding humor to make a situation less tense was such a Satoru Gojo thing to do.

The teens still look in shock. “So…” Megumi starts, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’d be our parents?” 

“Yes,” you reply with a smile. 

Nobara sniffles, and you look over at her to see that she’s no longer holding back her tears. “And- And we’d be your kids?” Her voice is also quiet. Yuuji, on the other hand, is much louder with his question. “And these two would be my siblings?!” 

You giggle, then nod again. “Yes, one hundred percent yes. I know it’s sudden, and if you all need time to think about it—” 

“Yes!!” Nobara practically screams, then runs over to hug you and Satoru as she begins sobbing. A split second later, Yuuji is there too, also hugging you tight. Megumi joins last, and the five of you remain there, embracing each other. Embracing your husband, your two new sons and your new daughter. Your eyes shut as you laugh with joy, unaware of your own tears. 

— — — — — — 

Six months later 

“So yeah, that’s the story of how Mom and Dad adopted us,” Yuuji concludes, then places his hand against your swollen tummy. “Pretty cool, right?” 

As if responding, ‘Yes,’ the baby within you gently kicks. “Ha!” Yuuji exclaims excitedly, then grins over at Megumi and Nobara. “I told you that they like my voice!” 

Nobara rolls her eyes. “Oh, please, Yuuji, they like all of our voices, but they like mine the most.” Now she puts her hand against your stomach, leaning close so the baby could hear her better. “Right, sweets? Isn’t your big sister your favorite sibling?” 

Two light kicks. Yuuji gasps in surprise while Nobara cackles victoriously. Megumi scoffs at their foolishness, and you laugh. 

“I won’t lie though,” Megumi says. “I’m curious about what technique they’re going to have.” 

“Yeah, will it be Mom’s or Dad’s?” Yuuji asks. 

You shrug. “We don’t know yet.” 

The front door opens, and you hear Satoru call out, “I’m home!” as he walks towards the living room where all of you were sitting. Like every day, he gives Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara hugs as he asks about their days, then comes to you. He kisses your forehead, then your tummy. “Hey, little one,” he quietly coos. “Hope you didn’t give mama too much trouble today.” 

“No vomiting today, so, yeah, they did pretty good.” You gently stroke his cheek. “Missed you today. How was work?” 

“Yeah, how was work?” Nobara asks excitedly. “Any special grade curses?” 

“Eh, nothing like that today,” Satoru says as he sits in between you and Megumi, ruffling the boy’s hair. “However, the second years are starting to plan a surprise party for Okkotsu’s birthday. I passed the word to the rest of the staff, and now I’m letting you all know about it.” 

Megumi nods as he settles back into the comfortable couch cushion. “Inumaki did text me about that earlier.”

“This is going to be so fun!” Yuuji exclaims. 

“Yeah, as long as we don’t leave you in charge of handling the cake like we did for Nanamin’s birthday last year, since you like to drop them,” Nobara scoffs. 

“Oh, come on! That was one time!” 

Megumi tsks, and shakes his head. “One time is too many.” 

As they playfully squabble, you and Satoru watch them with soft smiles. His blindfold was lowered, so you got to see the pure love and happiness in his eyes. He finally has the family that he once dreamed of as a child. You lean on his shoulder, and he kisses your cheek. 

Finally, your house was full, and so was your heart.

[potter-imagines]

Brat (Satoru Gojo x Reader)

Prompt: Satoru and his girlfriend Y/n are in an argument over his celebrity crush on Inoue Waka. Y/n is ignoring Satoru which absolutely drives him crazy.

Pairing: Satoru x reader

Warnings: some swearing, light light light smut (making out), gojo being gojo

Word Count: 7k

Notes: this is set broadly around season 2 episode 2 plot, with some clear changes from the original episode. riko and suguru are included.

“You changed your home screen?” Suguru commented nonchalantly. He took notice of the sudden alteration to his friend’s phone almost immediately. The difference wasn’t hard to spot seeing as the last two years all Satoru had used for his background images were various photos of his girlfriend, Y/n, whom he loved showing off.

Suguru was accustomed to the photos being circulated in a never ending pattern, Y/n and Satoru at the beach, Y/n in a scandalous position she beat him into removing, Y/n sleeping on his chest, Y/n and him sharing sweets, Y/n on her birthday grinning widely as she sat in front of her cake, the couple doing mud masks together, Y/n in front of the eiffel tower, and so on, however it was entirely new for him to see the famous, bikini clad Japanese model as his friend's home screen instead of his girlfriend. Suguru’s brow was raised as Satoru chuckled to himself.

“To Inoue Waka.” Gojo smiled in triumph, like he was in some war that he had finally found the upper hand in. “Y/n and I are in a fight- it’s certain to get a reaction out of her.” 

Despite his explanation, Suguru found himself lost in confusion. Only a night prior to leaving for their mission to protect and deliver the star plasma vessel, Geto had been sitting in attendance as he witnessed the couple's one of many bickering sessions. He really couldn’t blame Y/n much, seeing as he also found himself disagreeing with the white haired prodigy on the regular as well, yet this fight was one hundred percent, without a doubt in his mind, Satoru Gojo’s fault. Being as the argument was his wrong doing, Suguru couldn’t understand why his friend would sink himself deeper in the grave with his strong willed girlfriend rather than admit he messed up. And he certainly couldn’t see how an image of another woman- a model their argument steamed from, in a bikini too tight her boobs were practically over spilling from, would help his case.

The pair seemed to forget where they were until the young voice of the vessel of Tengen-sama herself reminded them of her presence. 

“Listen to me!” Riko shouted, irritation lacing her words. The young girl was set to explode off on the boys like a firecracker for their rude behavior in dismissing her heartfelt declaration on becoming one with Tengen-sama and Tengen-sama one with her, when suddenly the mention of the feminine name caught her attention. “Wait, Y/n?” She questioned. Riko didn’t see another female insight besides Kuroi but she sure hoped there was a sane female mind among the brainless men sitting among her. 

At her words, the man with hair white as snow leaned against the couch and ran a hand along his face. He narrowed his gaze, giving the girl a leer as if he found it ridiculous he had to explain who this Y/n was to her. 

“My strikingly beautiful, insanely stubborn, bratty, gorgeous girlfriend.” He moaned as his head fell back against the sofa, like the explanation was difficult enough. Through his dark rimmed glasses Gojo looked over to Riko, changing the topic all together. “I bet you don’t have many friends if you talk like that.”

“We won’t have to feel bad sending you off.” Suguru muttered. 

“I talk normally at school!” She expressed in an exacerbated tone, then quickly stepped forward pointing an accusing finger in the white haired man’s face. “And it’s you who shouldn’t have any friends! You certainly don’t deserve a girlfriend if you’re calling her a brat behind her back, you should be ashamed of yourself!” She reprimanded. 

Suguru lifted his gaze, intrigued by her final comment. Satoru didn’t actually think of his girlfriend as a brat, but of course Riko didn’t understand how the couple worked and there was no time to explain how Gojo called his girlfriend a brat in an endearing way- unlike his usage for it towards her. When Gojo used it towards Riko, he meant it. If they had the time, Geto might even explain how Y/n commonly refers to her boyfriend as a ‘trust fund baby’ or ‘a prick’, both of which are factual, yet it’s out of love between the two. 

Satoru ignored her quip, finding her opinion on his relationship totally useless. He knew his love for Y/n was larger than his will to live, yet he saw no point in expressing that to this girl. Riko didn’t know one thing about his relationship with Y/n so why did he care what the girl thought? Sure, he probably did sound like a complete jerk, however he couldn’t care less if the star plasma vessel before him found him to be a bad person for what she was hearing. 

Suguru glanced at Satoru, curious to see if the sorcerer was going to give a reaction however the six eye holder simply scrolled away on his phone, searching for the perfect image of his celebrity model crush to use as his lock screen. 

“School…” She mumbled out. “Kuroi, what time is it?!”

Satoru, Suguru, and Kuroi all sat scattered around the abandoned outdoor pool of Renchoku Girls' Junior High, all thinking of different things. Kuroi found herself reflecting on the time she spent practically raising the young girl who would soon be sacrificing herself as a vessel. Suguru’s mind wandered to how they were going to keep Riko safe until making it to Jujutsu High. All Satoru could think about was why his girlfriend wouldn’t answer his calls. Dangling his shoes above the water, Satoru kicked at the murky water in vex as yet another call went unanswered. 

“Huh?! She keeps sending me straight to voicemail- Suguru, let me borrow your phone!” Satoru failed to turn around as he extended his arm behind himself, impatiently awaiting Geto’s cellphone.

Begrudgingly Suguru dug his phone out from his side pocket and handed the cell phone over to his hysterical friend. He had already seen this play out a million times before and was positive the outcome would be no different; Gojo does something easily avoidable and pisses Y/n off, they get into an argument because it physically pains Gojo to admit his wrong doings, Y/n ignores him, he pretends he’s fine and acts as if he enjoys the distance created, that lasts for a few hours at most, then Gojo acts like a crazed person trying to get his girlfriend to respond while she is clearly still upset. 

Miles away in Tokyo, Y/n saw the face of her good friend Suguru pop up on her screen. Her brain screamed it was just her idiot boyfriend trying to convince her to speak to him. Maybe it really was Suguru calling to inform her of their mission. Hesitantly, Y/n accepted the call and lifted the phone to her ear.

“Hi, pretty girl- uh?! She hung up on me!” Gojo shrieked as the line went dead on the other end. He pulled the phone away from his ear and stared the the screen in disbelief, almost as if the mobile device had zapped him like an electrical shock. His mouth hung wide, a look of absolute astonishment polarizing his features. A few moments of staring at the blank screen passed by, Gojo awaiting a returning call from his love to declare it was all some prank, yet nothing came. Suguru outstretched his hand towards his friend,

“Satoru, can I have my phone back?”

The blue eyed man gave an over exaggerated groan then carelessly tossed the cellular device back to its rightful owner. 

“Fine. Ugh! Can’t believe how dramatic she’s being! Just wait until I get back to Jujutsu High and don’t share any of my mochi with her. She’s going to have to wait at least a week until I give her that necklace I bought.” He huffed like a child. Resting his chin in the palm of his hand, Satoru gazed out at the pool. From behind he could hear a chuckle from his friend, causing him to turn his head. As expected, Suguru was chuckling to himself at his expense. Squinting his eyes, Satoru sent a scowl, unimpressed at Suguru’s amusement over his situation. 

“Well, you did go on an entire rant to her about how hot Inoue Waka is, how she’s your dream girl, then you told Y/n you’re only dating her because Inoue Waka hasn’t returned any of your fanmail-”

“That was a joke.” Satoru dismissed his argument, shaking his head, still playing a blind eye to his wrong doings.  

“And you said Y/n is lucky to be dating you… so, one might call her response reasonable.” Sure, Suguru was Satoru’s friend first, but he was also Y/n’s friend and he had no issue telling Satoru the truth when he was in the wrong, like he was now.  “Not to mention the new background which is sure to warm her heart.” Suguru pointed out. Gojo preferred to convince himself that his partner was wrong, although the nagging voice in the back of his head claimed otherwise. An abrupt quip from Geto on two of his cursed spirits no longer roaming around Riko sent all three sprinting to find her location, and still, even while the choir girls and sensei fawned over him, Gojo could not stop replaying his earlier fight with Y/n, wondering what he could do to get a response from her. 

Satoru and Riko were currently running from the chapel on her school grounds- well, Satoru was running while he had the young school girl hoisted by the back of her uniform. An unexpected attack had caused a bump in the road and now Gojo had to protect the girl on his own until he could find Suguru, not that the task would be difficult by any means, Satoru simply had his mind elsewhere. Speaking of elsewhere, his cell phone started ringing from his side pocket, and before he could reach for the mobile device, the young girl plucked it out in one motion. Satoru went to steal his phone back when she raised the phone to her ear and, as if it belonged to her, answered the call meant for Satoru. 

“Eh? Give that here-” Gojo reached his hand to snatch his phone back from Riko, yet instead she pulled the device right to her ear and began rambling. If she wasn't on the mission Satoru was certain he’d have dropped her off the building right then and there, but he had no time to make another effort to yank the phone as he needed to reach higher ground. It wasn’t until Gojo heard the sound of his girlfriend’s voice that his heart dropped straight to his ass. ‘Oh no’, he thought. 

“Is this Y/n?” The girl eagerly asked. A far off voice replied, making Gojo reach out once more to snatch his phone back, only for the vessel to jerk her head away from his grasp. He knew there was no time to stop, he had to get to higher ground and then he could steal his phone back and make things right with his girlfriend- he just hoped Riko and her big mouth wouldn’t taint that chance for him. 

Before he could try to reason with the girl and convince her not to say anything more, Riko began rambling and there was nothing he could do to stop her. Gojo could sense another curse user in their perimeter and knew it was essential for his focus to remain on keeping the vessel safe, even if she was a pain in his ass. 

“My name is Riko- yes, I am! Listen, your boyfriend is a total selfish, inconsiderate, self obsessed jerk! He barged into my choir class all high and mighty and bathed in the attention as the girls swarmed him- he even took his stupid little glasses off for them to all swoon over his eyes! He was totally leaning into their lust for him! My sensei even gave him her phone number-”

“Ah! Hey! Give me my phone back- are you trying to get me murdered?!” Nope, ah uh, not happening, Gojo thought as he tore his cellphone away from her hands. Riko turned to look at him, but the mix of fear and absolute terror on his face kept her words at bay. He sent the girl a cold glare, electric blue eyes narrowed in frustration. “My girlfriend is-”

The abrupt sound of his beloved girlfriend screaming at him sent Satoru back to reality as he glanced at the phone screen, then resentfully lifted the mobile to his ear.

“Hi, princess- why’re you yelling?! I don’t know what this crazy girl is talking about-”

Even Riko was experiencing a small twang of regret as the manic shouting on the opposite end of the line seemed to worsen with every passing second. As far as only knowing the cocky sorcerer for less than a full day, this change in posterior surprised her. Riko was taken aback to see him practically cowering at the words the girl seemed to be seething. All day he had been ranting and raving about how powerful he was- clearly the conceited type, yet here he was nearly shaking like a leaf as his girlfriend scolds him. Riko wonders for a brief moment if she should’ve minded her own business.

A minute more of screaming and cursing passed until Satoru seemed to find his voice, or rather thought of a viable excuse, and nervously cut the girl off. 

“I’ve got to go, a curse user attacked! See you later, my love!” He hurriedly smacked his finger against the red button on the bottom of the phone, desperate to end the call as quickly as humanly possible. Riko stared up at him as she dangled above the ground, and as their eyes met, Gojo rolled his, displaying his anger towards the girl as broad as daylight. 

Gojo scoffed down at the girl as he continued to hoist her above the earth by the back of her shirt, carrying her as if she was a briefcase, or bag of groceries, though certainly not as one should hold a human. Riko huffed, folding her arms across her chest, but Gojo paid no mind to her emotions, too upset with her actions and interjecting herself in his personal relationship. Jumping to the building to their right, a childlike huff heaved from his chest. 

“Jeez, you’re really a handful, brat. Now I’ve got more of a mess waiting at Jujutsu High for me.”

After the pair met up with Suguru and Kuroi, the four were beyond ready to be inside the safety barrier of Jujutsu High and left at once. After arriving at the school, the sun had long since fallen and the sky was teetering between a navy and black shade. Suguru gave his partner a curt nod, gesturing his head towards the dorm rooms, insisting he could handle escorting Riko into the tombs of the star corridor. Satoru sent his friend a grateful smile, bid the vessel and her guardian a farewell, then took off for the dorms. A small, minute, fraction of him was going to miss the kid, but she agreed to her destiny and up until now, seemed relatively pleased with her choice. Satoru jogged up the steps of the dormitory until he finally reached the fourth floor, the floor only occupied by female students. It wasn’t hard to locate Y/n’s room as he had snuck in past curfew more times than he could count, he reached her door with ease. 

His knuckles tapped against the wooden door, allowing less than a fair second to pass before he jimmied the handle. Usually a locked door would be a sign to walk away and try again in the morning, but Satoru only saw it as a slight hiccup. Pulling a credit card from his back pocket, Satoru slid the heavy black card through the slit between the frame and the door itself, shimming the card down to the lock while simultaneously twisting the knob back and forth. He gave the handle one quick turn to the left and abruptly the door swung open causing him to stumble less than graciously into the dimly lit room. 

Creeping in, Gojo carefully shut the door behind him and fully stepped into the dorm. The pink clock on her desk flashed half past midnight, but he knew his night owl of a girlfriend was sure to be awake, despite the eerie silence in the room. Tiptoeing his way towards the bed in the corner, Gojo let out a whisper, 

“Princess, I’m home! Are you awake?”

He sat himself on the edge of the mattress, placing the large shopping bag by his feet as he cautiously examined the heap hidden under a pile of blankets. Running his hand up and down the smooth fleece, Satoru could feel someone shifting around underneath. He leaned his head down, bending his body at an awkward angel, to rest it on top of what he assumed to be her side- that was until an elbow pulled back from under and collided sharply with his temple. 

A pained yelp sounded as he jumped back in surprise and fell to the floor causing a ‘thud’ to sound out. The figure on the bed threw the covers off her head as her fiery leer met Gojo’s stunned expression. 

“No.” She sneered. Though this did not deter the boy as he had previously prepared himself for an attitude filled reunion- especially due to how their last conversation had ended. Propping himself up to his feet once more, Satoru was determined to try again. 

“I brought you presents- look!” He rustled through the paper bag and yanked out four neatly wrapped parcels, and smiled while shoving his outstretched arms towards the glaring girl. However she refused to move, and instead continued murdering the sorcerer with her deathly scowl instead. Gojo let out a dramatic sigh, gesturing to the boxes in his arms once more. “C’mon, pretty girl, you gotta open the gifts-”

“Why don’t you go give it to those choir school girls- or what about their instructor-” A taunting laugh fell from her pink lips. “Better yet, send it to Inoue Waka and see if she finally responds to your love letters!” 

“Oh, c’mon, pumpkin! Are you really still upset about that?” Gojo whined. Here he was, bearing gifts in hand, and she was still angry about something that happened so, so long ago? Gojo ran his calloused hand across his face. 

“Still upset? It just happened today!” 

“If it’s any consolation, those school girls weren’t even in high school so they were way too young for me anyhow.” And none of them compared to you, he wanted to add. Y/n tossed from her position in the bed so her face was now peeking out between covers as her eyes flared. If the situation wasn’t so serious, Gojo would reach out to pinch at the cute chub of her cheek and comment on how adorable she appeared, yet he knew better than to try to weasel his way out of this one. 

“Ah, so you were flirting with a bunch of children and a cougar? Sounds a lot better that way, Satoru.” She shot back, sass soaking her words. Her rebuttal had Gojo rethinking his words. The issue with dating a woman like Y/n was she was far more intelligent then himself and simply didn’t fall for his handsome looks and boyish charm, which Gojo relied on when it came to the opposite sex. Not that this was a bad thing, so to say, it was actually one of the thousands of reasons why he loved her so much- she wasn’t shallow minded and saw him far beyond his outward appearance. Setting the presents on her freshly organized desk, Satoru ran a hand through his hair and awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Technically, it wasn’t flirting in the sense you’re thinking of, I had to distract the class with my charm and good looks so I could sneak Master Tengen’s vessel out of class- I wasn’t lying about us being under attack by another curse user, that was true!”

“What about her number, huh?” Y/n scoffed. 

“She offered it, but I never accepted it.” Luckily he was telling the truth and Y/n believed him. Despite trusting his confession, she didn’t do anything more. 

A silence greeted the couple, neither certain of what to say next. Y/n lifted the blankets from her lap and stood from her bed in front of her boyfriend. Sure the gesture was small, but Satoru took her willingness to step closer to his frame as a good thing as his arms reached out to pull her body against his in a bone crushing hug. His forehead pressed against her shoulder while he kissed the spot. Y/n thought about pulling away for a second, she thought about making him work harder to gain her forgiveness, but his arms felt far too comforting around her body for her to shake him off. With his head buried in her shoulder, Gojo glanced up to Y/n, a softness in his eyes as he spoke,

“Do you forgive me, pretty girl? I’m sorry I made you upset… I don’t like it when you’re mad at me.” 

When she didn’t answer right away, Gojo lifted his head from her so he could properly look her in the eyes. He could visibly see the clouds of anger clearing as she quietly stared back at him. His hand then moved to wrap around the side of her face, his gentleness causing her to melt against his palm. She desperately wanted to smack his hand away, curse him then send him off to his room for the night, but she couldn’t. His touch sparked a series of shivers through her body which only made her long for him to pull her closer. 

A grin broke across his features as he accepted her lack of resistance as approval for his apology and began to move closer towards her face. If she slapped him away, then he’d know he misread the signs, but she didn’t. Their faces were so close in distance Y/n could smell the welcoming scent of peppermint swirling from his parted lips. These were the times she found herself grateful for his sweet tooth, it usually made for sweeter kisses. Wordlessly, Y/n pushed herself to close the distance and pressed her lips to connect to his. Gojo hums as he dips his head lower to gain advantage as he deepens the exchange. 

His mouth is warm against hers, inviting, as he kisses her. She can feel his tongue as it slips inside her mouth, almost like it was entering its second home, seeing as easily as it made itself comfortable and friendly against her own. Her fingers gripped at his white strands, pulling his face closer. All the frustration, all the emotions she had been experiencing towards him for the last day melted into the kiss. Satoru had one hand wrapped around her waist, holding her middle against his hips and his other swooped up around her lifted arm, leaving his hand to rest on the back of her neck, not letting her pull away even if she wanted to. 

Y/n could taste the strawberry chapstick on his lips, the same chapstick he had stolen from her only a week prior. He wasn’t lying, the taste was addictive. Gojo’s lips captured her bottom in a heated move, sucking on the skin with the slightest hint of friction as his teeth light delved into the plumpness. She had no time to muffle the moan passing through her, to which he smirked at the sound. 

A sense of shame washed over her once she realized he had won the silent battle. Instead, Y/n yanked at his hair from the root and pulled his lips back against hers, kissing him with such force he nearly stumbled back a footing. Gojo’s eyes widened in the middle of the kiss, surprised at her boldness and the way her tongue was invading his mouth. He could feel the material of his uniform growing tighter as his jeans constricted against his crotch. Y/n sucked on the silky smoothness of his tongue, small smacks sounding as she dominated the heated makeout. 

A shudder danced down his spine at the feeling of her hand pressed against his groin, his hips subconsciously grinding against her palm. Rubbing her hand along the zipper Y/n toyed with the cool metal, silently teasing her boyfriend as a means of revenge for his actions. Just as she began pulling the slider down, her lips pulled away from him at once, much to Satoru’s disappointment. His mouth hung low as a small whine sounded.

Y/n simply ignored his childish ways, and reached for the bottom of her shirt, causing him to smile once more. Peeling the shirt that belonged to him off her body, Y/n threw it to the floor then fell back against her mattress, motioning Gojo over with the flick of her wrist. Satoru stalked towards her on the bed, almost like a predator sneaking up on it’s prey. His eyes held a look of hunger she rarely saw but bathed in the heat searing from it.

Climbing over her body, Satoru placed himself so he was looming above her, his zipper hanging half undone. Y/n tilted her head, pretending not to understand the look on his face. Gojo shook his head then leaned his face so his lips could skim against her exposed neck. He let his mouth trail up the side of her skin, hot breath fanning over her coolness. His hands lifted to grope at the covering of her bra, giving the material a tug. He came to a stop once his mouth was pressed against the shell of her ear, his voice sending a wave of pleasure straight to her core, 

“I love it when my princess is being a little brat… think I need to put you back in your place.”

Without warning his lips attached to her neck and harshly began to suck at the skin, surely leaving a trail of blotchy red marks. Y/n’s whole body hitched at the overwhelming rush of excitement, her hips lifting only to be shoved back into the mattress by his own which hovered barely an inch above. 

She let her head fall to the side, allowing Satoru more access to her neck, her eyes hardly opened as she basked in the tingling his mouth brought. Hands traveled up and down his back, nails lightly scratching against him as her body wormed from his lips making love to her skin. Y/n nearly closed her eyes all together, she nearly allowed herself to get lost in his kiss, that was until a distant ‘ding’ caught her attention and the phone beside her head lit up. 

A text notification from Suguru popped up on Satoru’s phone, but that wasn’t what caught Y/n’s attention, no, her fixation settled in on the nearly naked photo of the famous model Inoue Waka. The same Inoue Waka that sparked the original fight between the couple, the same Inoue Waka Satoru called hot, the one he declared his dream girl, and same Inoue Waka Satoru said he’d be dating if she’d give him a chance- Y/n was fuming in rage. Pushing both hands on his chest, Y/n physically shoved Satoru off her body causing him to tumble off the side of the bed. His hands flailed out in an attempt to grab for stability, although failed as he rolled to the wood floor, his back smacking against the ground. Gojo laid still on the floor, his mind still trying to process the whole event as he rubbed at the ache on the back of his head. Sitting up straight she reached out for his phone and held it in his face as she screamed,

“Are you fucking kidding me, Satoru?! You put Inoue Waka as your background?!”

“Hehe… that was meant to be a joke…” The fear in his voice transcribed in shaky words as Y/n chucked the phone at him, barely missing his face as he lunged to the side. She snatched his shirt off the ground and threw it back on, covering her chest as Gojo scrambled to grab his cellphone. 

“Fine, I’ve got an even funnier joke for you,” A taunting smile full of hidden anger laced her lips as her finger jutted towards her door. “Get out!” 

His face fell all at once, a deep pout tattooed on his lips. Maybe he should’ve listened to Suguru earlier when he insisted this was a bad idea- if he’d had listened to Suguru, the two would probably be tangled in her bed sheets by now, but no, Gojo had to press her buttons even further. Opening his phone, Satoru clicked on the most recent image of Y/n and faster than the speed of light, set the photo to his new lock and home screen. 

“Aw, c’mon! I’ll change it right now- see! Look, pumpkin, it’s a picture of my favorite girl-” Gojo flipped his phone around, allowing the bright screen to illuminate Y/n’s face. She glanced up, and Satoru watched in utter confusion as her expression went from upset to lividly irate. His heartbeat multiplied in rate, obviously terrified of the disturbing reaction she held to seeing her face on his phone, or what he thought was her face. 

“You fucking asshole.” She growled. If this was his idea of a practical joke, Y/n was ready to make him single. Gojo’s eyes grew like a mass, quickly turning his phone back only to see what caused such a profuse reaction. The image hadn’t changed and was the same exact photo as previously of Inoue Waka propped up on her knees sitting in the sand as her breasts nearly poured out of her excuse of a bikini.

“Shit! I promise I thought I hit save- just give me a second, I’m panicking!” He screeched. His fingers moved at the speed of light as Satoru helplessly tried to set his girlfriend’s smiling face as his background, hoping to at least save some ground between the couple. What he failed to notice in his alarmed state was Y/n reaching out for her phone, scrolling through her photo album and setting a new image on hers. 

“No, no, it’s fine, Gojo, really. I’ll just change my background to a picture of my favorite guy.” The smile she wore was not one of love, no it held more malice, evilness like she had just completed a plot to end the world. Satoru’s head nudged to the side, his eyebrows pulled together in a line of skepticism. 

“I’m already your background, princess…” He mumbled. Clarity was granted as the girl tossed her cellphone, to which he caught with ease. Clicking the power button, Gojo gave a dramatized gasp.

“Is… is that Suguru?! How’d you get this picture? Did he send this to you? Oh my god I’m going to kill him-” 

“I think he looks cute.” Y/n smirked. Obviously it was all a ruse to get back at him for his immaturity, but she couldn’t help the sense of pride creeping up at the over the top reaction from Gojo. The photo itself came from a night out the couple shared, one with their usual third wheel, Geto. Four shots in and five mixed drinks, Suguru was having quite the time, which led to a gallery full of images that he insisted the three took together- and if Gojo would look a little closer, he’d notice the small wisps of pure white hair sticking out from the edge of the cropped image, but Y/n didn’t need to tell him that, it was far more amusing to see him frantic. 

Large blue eyes pleaded up at her as Gojo kneeled in front of the bed, his hands folded like prayer.

“Princess, please put my picture back! I changed mine back to you- please!”

Her finger tapped against the blush to her cheek, pretending to be lost in thought. This was pure torture as Gojo continued to beg at her feet. 

“Hm. I’m not sure- I do have a picture of that adorable first year Haibara in there somewhere…” No, absolutely not, that was Satoru’s last straw. No way in hell would his beautiful girlfriend have a photo of that first year sorcerer always obsessed with impressing Suguru as her background- never ever! Gojo was already annoyed their peer favored his best friend over himself, but having his own girlfriend joke about giving them attention, fuck no.  Holding her phone above his head and out of her teasing reach, Satoru screeched, 

“Ah! You’re going to replace me with a first year?! What?!”

Folding her arms in a crossed fashion against her chest, Y/n gave the hysterical teen a ‘told you so’ glare. 

“Now you know how I felt.” She said matter-of-factly. 

Satoru had to physically bite his tongue to keep the word ‘brat’ from tumbling past his lips. Yes, he used the term as one of endearment, but that was when the two were in their usual jovial mood- now was not the time and now. Gojo understood what she was hinting at, he got the message she was referring to their earlier argument and the various comments he had made towards the famous model, but that didn’t mean he agreed with her. In his mind, there was a clear difference between joking about having a crush on someone in the public eye and joking about having a crush on a fellow classmate. 

“Well at least my background was a celebrity that I have no real chance with. If you asked that first year out he’d probably say yes on the spot then pass out- and Suguru would say yes just to spite me!” His voice was teetering a cry as he threw his head against the bed. 

“I would never actually ask them out, Satoru. In case you haven’t noticed, I love you. Why do you think I was so upset about all those things you said before you and Suguru left? You basically admitted I’m not your dream girl but some famous, perfectly perfect model, who I look nothing like, is. Then you went on about how lucky I should feel being with you, as if I’m not already insecure about our relationship.” Gojo’s heart sunk at her words, regret filling his insides. “It hurt my feelings, Satoru.”

“I’m sorry, princess… I really am. I never meant to hurt you, I guess I thought I was being funny but… it’s really not true.” For the first time in maybe ever, Satoru’s tone sounded different. His voice no longer held that casual cockiness and confidence it usually oozed, no, he sounded timid… possibly the most serious he’s ever sounded in his life. The man who played life like it was the board game itself now stood before the woman he loved looking scared. Y/n’s face scrunched in question, slightly taken aback by the sincerity he expressed. 

“What’s not true?”

“What I said about Inoue Waka, she’s not my dream girl, you are.” Satoru stated. He needed Y/n to see the truth to his words, to believe she was the only girl for him, because she was. As fun as it was to tease his girlfriend, it was only amusing when she was in on the joke. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her. Satoru could see now how truly uncomfortable she was with his comments and it made him feel like a piece of shit knowing he planted a seed of insecurity in her mind. 

It was almost as if Gojo could see the shield Y/n placed around herself, around her heart. She was a hard one to crack, but getting to be the soul she finally let inside meant the entire word to Satoru and he had no intention of breaking that trust ever again. 

“And I’m the one who’s so fucking lucky to get to call you mine. You’re everything I could ever ask for in a girlfriend and more. You put up with me and you’re the only person who ever laughs at my jokes- and you know all my favorite snacks and treats… you even know all the things I’m scared of, which losing you is at the top of my list. I’m sorry that I ever made you doubt us, or made you feel insecure… I really am sorry, Y/n.”

The room turned quiet as Gojo’s confession hung in the air. Y/n didn’t speak, she wouldn’t even move. Instead, her eyes planted on the blanket in her lap, mindlessly losing herself in the pattern while her mind raced, replaying his words over and over again. Gojo examined her odd behavior, part of him perplexed at her lack of response. Y/n had a response for everything, for every situation. For the first time in their two year relationship Gojo was witnessing her in a speechless state, and for as much as he joked about her bratness and stubborn ways, he hated not hearing her voice. A minute passed until Satoru decided he had enough of missing her sound. As he opened his mouth, about to ask if she was okay, a shout sounded from her throat. 

“Ugh! I hate when you do that!” Y/n cried out. There was a thin row of salty tears teetering her waterline. Dread filled Gojo at the sight. He never meant to make her cry. Standing to his feet Satoru sat himself next to her on the bed, his hands reaching out to grasp her own in trepidation. His thumb drew anxious circles across her skin, a method he’d learned that usual calmed her down, yet her tears steadily fell. 

“W-What? Do what?” He asked in a wavering voice. With her free hand, Y/n harshly rubbed at her eyes, wiping the tears that continued to roll down her reddening cheeks. A few splashed against his hand that clutched hers, but he didn’t care. A scarlet ring formed around her e/c eyes as she glanced up to Satoru, a mix of agitation and sadness filling her. 

“When you’re all sweet and say things that make my insides feel like they’re all mushy and- ugh, I hate how much I love you. It’s so annoying!” She cried out. 

A wave of solace splash his bay at her words, along with the returning embrace as her hand squeezed his. He let out a sigh of relief, grateful his words had caused good tears this time. Bringing her hand up to his face, Gojo danced a trail of kisses along her knuckles and smiled. Still holding her hand, Satoru lightly urged the girl to lay back on the mattress and he climbed in next to her. Her head rested softly against the pillow, Gojo’s arm encircling her waist as he turned her body to face his. Once he could see her beautiful face, he let his hand wrap under her chin with a feather light grip. 

“I happen to love how much you love me, pretty girl.” 

His lips pressed a sweet kiss to her temple, then placed another to her forehead, then lastly a chaste and loving kiss to her lips. Y/n nuzzled her head against his touch, the shakiness to her breathing beginning to slow. Gojo removed his hand from her chin as he felt her wiggling closer until her head was laid up on his chest. The sound of his heart beat echoed in her ear and she cuddled into his warmth. A comfortable blanket of peace took control of the room as the couple enjoyed the feeling of holding one another. Satoru’s hand ran up and down her back in an act of comfort. His touch always made her feel more at ease. The moment of tranquility lasted a good portion until Y/n briefly pulled herself away from Gojo, an unfamiliar gleam to her gaze. Satoru tilted his head, unfamiliar to the unusual look, when Y/n lifted her hand to stroke the side of his cheek, as she spoke in a mask of sweetness,

“I swear Satoru, if you ever set Inoue Waka as your homescreen again, I’ll murder you then chop your body up and dump it in the ocean.” One might expect a rational response to such a threat would be fear, not Satoru Gojo. A cheesy grin broke out as his hold tightened around her body, pulling her closer to him.

“I know you will, princess, and that’s why I love you… even if you are a brat at times.”

Her hand smacked against her arm, faking a pout while snuggling further in. 

“Shut up, you love me because I’m a brat.” She remarked. They both knew it was true. Satoru could feign annoyance over her attitude, he could pretend she was too ‘difficult’ for him, but in all honesty, bratty was exactly the way Satoru loved her. 

“You know me too well.”

[narumi-gens]

boundaries gojo satoru x f!reader

post-breakup!gojo who can't quite follow through on the breaking up. he's as present in your life after he ended things as he was when you were still dating.

he still blows up your phone at all hours with nothing important. he insists on holding your hand when you walk side-by-side. he still uses your apartment key, which you never had the heart to ask for him to return. you've ended up in more than one heated makeout session with him, although you have managed to keep them from progressing past him feeling up your tits over your bra.

and when you end up in the hospital after a mission, he shows up before even shoko can get there. you sigh when his towering form appears in the doorway of the room you've been given.

"looks worse than it is," you say and despite the way you slur your words due to the painkillers, it's true.

your concussion, while serious, isn't something that wouldn't heal on its own. your broken ribs managed to avoid puncturing any organs. even the burst blood vessel in your left eye that's colored the white of your eye a ghastly red is only really a surface-level injury.

but for once, the man who never shuts up stays silent as he pulls a chair close and sits at your bedside. he reaches for your hand but pauses when you wince at the pressure on the two fingers that are fractured and wrapped in a splint. instead, he settles for loosely holding onto your wrist.

"shoko's gonna fix it all anyways," you tell him through a yawn, your eyelids feeling heavy. "'sides, you shouldn't even be here. boundaries, satoru. 'member?"

it's a word that you've tossed in his face so many times since the breakup that it's lost all meaning. and it doesn't help that you've never managed to say it with any sort of real weight. instead, it usually comes out on the end of a resigned sigh.

you can feel his gaze on you even through his dumb sunglasses. normally, even post-breakup, you would reach out and pull them down his nose to meet those cursed eyes of his and make some joke. but with your brain working at a diminished capacity and your arm hooked up to an IV full of the best painkillers japan's doctors have to offer, all you can do is slowly blink at him in return.

"it's always boundaries this, boundaries that with you," he finally retorts with a shake of his head, but offers nothing else.

"'f you didn't want boundaries then you shouldn't've ended things, y'big dummy," you mumble, and no longer able to keep your eyes open, you finally let them close.

"I told you. I don't have room in my life for anyone else – i.e., you," he replies bluntly and you can feel the fit of giggles that you want to burst into, but all you can manage is a soft huff of laughter.

"liar," you say with a sleepy smile stretching across your lips. "can't even be honest when I'm strung out on painkillers. psh. lame."

it takes monumental effort, but you manage to crack open an eye so that you can see him sporting his own cheeky grin.

silence settles over you both and you feel yourself slowly beginning to fall into the blackness as your breathing slows. the soothing sensation of gojo's thumb rubbing circles on the skin of your wrist only aids in pushing you closer and closer to sleep.

"you were considered a suitable match." even on the edge of consciousness, the disgust in his tone at those two words reaches you. "I couldn't let them get what they wanted."

you let out a quiet hum in acknowledgment and wish you had enough strength to open your eyes, curious to see if he's surprised you weren't fully asleep yet.

"still letting 'em control you, hm? s'good we broke up. want someone who's only tied down by me," you mumble.

"baby, if you want to tie me down, all you had to do was say so," he jokingly responds, unsurprisingly choosing to sidestep the gravity of your words, no matter how slurred they were.

"boundaries, 'toru..." you trail off as you finally succumb to sleep.

[awearywritersworld]

men are so quick to blame the gods

ryomen sukuna x reader summary: your boyfriend is a heavy sleeper, leaving you to form an unlikely relationship with the curse occupying his body during the late hours of the night. w/c: 2.6k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. angst/fluff. aged up!yuuji. sa is mentioned but it's pretty much just sukuna saying he doesn't condone it. heavy kissing. obvi features yuuji x reader but it's not at all the focus. cursing. sukuna calls you kitten. i'd like to think he's not too ooc in this but im probably delusional. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: am i rehabbing our handsome vicious psychopath? yes<3 loosely inspired by this post (features manga spoilers) of him being v beautiful and poetic series masterlist // masterlist

humans have always irritated the king of curses— pathetic little vermin scurrying around, utterly oblivious to their own weakness.

so it came as quite a shock to him when he awoke after over a millenia, only to find himself trapped inside the body of some teenaged brat.

nearly 7 years later and he's positive there isn't a person he despises more in the universe. not even the cocky six eyes wielder can elicit sukuna's fury the way itadori yuuji so easily does.

that's why he resolved early on to kill his vessel's pretty little girlfriend, an act he hopes might satiate his spite. he's positive nothing would devastate yuuji more.

luckily for you, life has a funny way of working.

you and yuuji are standing at an intersection in the city, the pink-haired man staring at his phone as he tries to piece together the directions to a new sushi restaurant you've been wanting to try.

when the pedestrian sign on the other side of the street blinks, you step out onto the pavement without checking for oncoming traffic.

"what the-" yuuji's confused voice fills your ears just as a rough hand wraps around your wrist, yanking you backward violently.

a car barrels through the spot you'd just been standing, the driver clearly not paying attention to the traffic signal. you look back just in time to see harsh black marks fading from your boyfriend's arm, though the rest of his body has seemingly remained unblemished.

it's an odd sensation for yuuji because he's never lost control to sukuna in such a manner. he doesn't dwell on it long though, as anger blossoms in his chest.

"do not touch her," he scolds the curse occupying his body.

a mouth appears on his cheek and scoffs. "sure. i'll just let her die next time."

"it's okay, yu," you interject before he can retaliate. "thanks, sukuna. i, uh, appreciate it."

he grumbles something incomprehensible, his mouth quickly disappearing. your boyfriend looks at you bemused, but you only shrug. the fact that yuuji had lost control to sukuna doesn't make you feel nervous or threatened. you're grateful that he kept you from being run over, albeit a bit surprised.

as you continue your walk to the the sushi restaurant, you find yourself not quite able to meet yuuji's eye because... well... you haven't exactly been forthright regarding your relationship with the king of curses.

the first night it happens, you're laying in bed eagerly finishing the final volume of a manga you've been reading. yuuji is fast asleep and has been for hours, though you're used to being the night owl in the relationship.

you keep wiping at your eyes, the cheerful ending tugging at your heartstrings and tying the story together in a beautiful way.

"can you stop with your incessant sniveling? this idiot's brain is so rarely quiet and you're ruining it."

you look over to see the eye beneath your boyfriend's is open, staring at you scornfully.

"can you fuck off?" your tone is obviously meant to mock him. "i'm finishing one of my favorite mangas and you're ruining it."

"need i remind you of your place, brat?" he sneers. "it's dreadfully wretched, crying because you don't like the ending to some stupid story."

"since you're so clearly invested, i'll have you know i'm crying because i do like it."

"..and here i thought you couldn't get any more pathetic."

your eye twitches in annoyance. "just because you're mad about being stuck in 'some idiot human's body' doesn't mean you have to go around projecting your feelings of inadequacy onto other people."

you move your hand to cover the mouth on your boyfriend's cheek before sukuna can respond, hissing out in pain just a moment later.

"oh my god, you actually bit me." you inspect the teethmarks on your palm in disbelief.

"just wait until i win control of this body— the punishment you deserve for such insolence. you'd better hope you're miles away, but even then—"

"holy shit, enough already. i'll go to sleep. enjoy your peace and quiet," you growl angrily, flipping off the lamp and turning away from him. for some reason, you still find yourself mumbling, "good night."

sukuna's eye widens before promptly closing, the silence hanging in the air heavily. it's the longest conversation he's had in years and the first casual pleasantry he's heard in a millenia. he tries to feel satisfied that he got what he wanted in the end, before returning to his quiet solitude.

over the next few months, your late nights are graced somewhat frequently by the king of curses. he mainly complains— the friends you hung out with earlier were annoying, the tv's too loud, it took yuuji twenty minutes to exorcise a curse that sukuna could have dealt with in seconds.

it doesn't bother you nearly as much anymore and he's no longer able to get under your skin like he did that first night. it seems as if he's losing his touch, or perhaps he just isn't trying as hard.

it's around one in the morning, a book resting in your lap while your boyfriend snores softly beside you. sukuna's eye pops open, peering over at the text. "you're reading homer?"

your body jerks, startled by his sudden question, but you recover soon thereafter. "yeah, were you two friends or something?"

"no, you fool," he derides. "he lived far before my time."

though you don't comment on it, you find it amusing that your sarcasm had gone over his head. "oh, you're right. how silly of me to think you had friends."

"such profound witticism. i can hardly contain myself."

you sneak a glance over to find he's narrowed his eye at you and you actually giggle. "sorry."

it doesn't dawn on you how bizarre the interaction is, but sukuna abruptly realizes that something feels different. not once before tonight had he made you laugh.

he pushes the thought from his mind. "i did, however, indulge in his works during the heian period."

"really?" you perk up. it's not often you give him your full attention. "what'd you think?"

"i suppose i liked him well enough. one of my favorite lines comes from the poem you're reading."

you motion your hand for him to continue. "well don't be shy. i'm sitting here with bated breath."

he rolls his eye, but speaks nonetheless.

"men are so quick to blame the gods— they say that we devise their misery..." you realize for the first time how gruff his voice is, the deep reverberations sending a shudder down your spine. "but they themselves, in their depravity, design grief greater than the griefs that fate assigns."

his eye flickers between each of yours before you look back to your book, fiddling with the corner of the page. you're suddenly feeling rather shy. "does that mean you think humans are even crueler than you?"

he muses over your question briefly.

"if i recounted how men would flee the villages i burned, leaving their families behind in a selfish attempt to save themselves.. who would you find more revolting?

you swallow nervously. "i.. i don't know."

"what if i told you of the men who would eagerly offer their wives and daughters to me, hoping i'd spare them.. who would you deem more wicked?"

you're so busy avoiding his gaze that you don't see the way he carefully regards you. a question you're unsure you want the answer to tumbles from your lips before you can stop it. "did you accept? the.. the husbands' offers—"

"no," he responds. "i have little interest in unwilling partners."

"oh. well that's, um, good."

he hums in response, leaving you to process everything he's told you.

"you should stop," you blurt out eventually.

"stop what?"

"being nice to me." you wouldn't normally consider discussing literature then reminiscing about the egregious stories of his past life particularly kind, but then again, it is sukuna you're speaking with. "it's weird."

he rolls his eye again. "you're hardly in any position to be giving me orders, you insufferable brat."

"see? that's much better."

"why are you crying?" his tone is even, conveying neither annoyance or concern. truthfully, he has no idea what compelled him to ask in the first place.

you don't answer, hoping he'll leave you alone. you really don't have it in you tonight, even if sukuna's been much more tolerable recently. it's been weeks since you finished reading homer's epic poem.

the moon is already setting and it's just a few days before your date at the sushi restaurant.

when you sniffle again, he calls your name. you don't register that he doesn't say brat or idiot. it's the first time he's used your actual name.

"w-what do you want?"

"i seem to recall asking you a question."

you're laying on your side, facing away from yuuji and by extension, sukuna.

"i'm not crying," you declare.

sukuna briefly wonders why he's stuck dealing with you while yuuji sleeps, but his inward 'annoyance' is half hearted. "you're an awful liar."

you exhale and turn to look at him. the only light in the room is coming from the tv, but it's enough that he can see you clearly. "sometimes.. i can't help but worry about the execution."

yuuji has told you countless times that gojo has a plan, that he won't let anything happen, but you know what the higher ups are capable of.

and while it's down right shameful, you know that much, it's not only your boyfriend you worry about these days. sukuna's become so commonplace in your life, you almost look forward to talking with him at night.

"the thought of losing yuuji... of losing.. you.. it scares me," you murmur.

your words stir up feelings he's never once experienced and it's confusing to him. "i'd have figured you'd at least be pleased to be rid of me."

"well, i-i kind of thought we were friends now," you share without thinking.

"don't flatter yourself."

he regrets the words as soon as they come out of his mouth and the guilt he feels as he watches your face fall is unbecoming of a being so powerful. you apologize meekly, shifting (too late) to hide your hurt.

he can't remember a moment in which he's hated being trapped in his vessel's god forsaken body more. he wants to reach out to you, even if the idea feels entirely foreign to him.

but he can't, so he just sighs. "if you think i'm going to let a few feebleminded sorcerers execute me and the brat, you're even more foolish than i thought."

you peer at him, the smallest smile gracing your lips when you realize that's probably as close to an apology as sukuna would ever get.

"promise?"

for fuck's sake. he feels utterly pathetic. completely deplorable. laughable, even—

"yes," he states impassively. "now go to sleep."

"okay." your smile is just a little wider as your fingertips brush the spot below his eye and above his mouth. you wonder if he can even feel it. "good night, sukuna."

"...night, brat."

less than a week after sukuna saves your life at the intersection, yuuji kisses you goodbye as he heads out to a mission. he assures you he'll be early tonight, as he only has to exorcise a semi-grade one cursed spirit in roppongi.

though things don't go quite as planned because in addition to the semi-grade, he finds himself standing before two special grades. he manages to defeat one of the special grades, but the other two leave him badly hurt, his breathing labored.

he has to beg sukuna to switch out with him. the king of curses hasn't forgotten his promise to you and he's no fool— it's clear this is an ambush by the higher ups— but he'll be damned if he wasn't going to have a little fun with the brat first.

he makes quick work of the curses, each of them going rigid with fear as soon as he appears, and it soon becomes apparent that yuuji is too weakened to take back control of his body just yet.

at last, sukuna has his long yearned for freedom and a new world at his fingertips, but there's just one problem... all he wants to do is find you.

when the lock to your apartment clicks, your eyes shift to the door, an excited grin on your face. you can't hide your shock when it isn't your boyfriend that steps inside.

you don't say anything at first, simply following his frame across the room as he approaches you. he leans against the wall a few feet away from where you're sitting on the couch, folding his arms across his chest.

"seems your concerns about the execution weren't unwarranted."

"w-what?!" you exclaim, rising to your feet and taking a step toward him. "what happened?"

he relays the story to you, emphasizing how 'unimpressive' yuuji's power was and how 'terribly simple' it was for him to finish the job his vessel couldn't.

you narrow your eyes at him, only half joking when you ask, "what are you doing here, then? shouldn't you be off pillaging tokyo or something?"

he chuckles. "such a dark mind you have. it wounds me to hear you assume the worst of me."

you bite your lip to hide your smile. "just figured it'd save time."

he closes the space between you and though you can feel the heat radiating from his body, you don't shy away from him. instead, your eyes trail over the dark lines adorning his face and chest.

he reaches up and your breath catches in your throat when the back of his fingers ghost over your neck. his nails graze your skin and a sly smirk forms on his face. "aren't you frightened? it'd be all too easy to kill a little thing like you."

"but you won't."

he can't tell if your assuredness pisses him off, but it certainly makes his heart rate pick up. his hand now occupies the space where your neck meets your shoulder, his touch surprisingly gentle. "what has you so convinced?"

"well you saved me, didn't you? and.. and you kept your promise."

he hums in response and your hand seems to act of its own accord when it reaches up to rest atop his. any lingering sense of amusement is gone in an instant, the air now fraught with tension.

"so why are you here, sukuna?" you murmur.

the king of curses has never known goodness. he's wrought untold destruction and misery, his name inspiring fear even after millenia. he's a legend— a god, even— yet here you are staring up at him and he swears the look in your eyes is almost tender.

"i don't know."

"and you had the nerve to call me an awful liar."

you know you're taking a risk when you lean up and press your lips to his. he freezes for a moment before his mouth begins to move against yours tentatively. his arm stays at his side, so you grab his hand, moving it to your waist.

it's as if that flips a switch in sukuna. he backs you up against the wall somewhat roughly and you can feel him smile against your lips when you let out a squeak of surprise.

he uses the opportunity to take your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging at it before moving to your neck with the intention of leaving a trail of marks across your delicate flesh.

you know you should care, but you just can't bring yourself to tell him to stop. you're too preoccupied with the feeling. he revels in the little gasps he's pulling from your throat, in the way you grab weakly at his biceps.

"you are divine, kitten," he growls. "been waiting so long to touch you."

just as he finishes speaking, he pulls back a few inches and his body stiffens.

"damn it. not now, you stupid brat—"

the words die in his throat as the black lines begin to fade and you're met with the perplexed face of your boyfriend. he breaths out your name, clearly worried. "what.. what happened?"

[sleepingdiaryzzz]

so yandere young justice (platonic if possible if not then normal yandere will do) x reader with very strong psycick powers and has to keep their emotions in check but to do so they act cold and thus treets and thinks of the team as coworkers like the ones that you do not like, (cuz reader is only on the team so the JL wont constantly bother them) now I want the team to think reader is a piece of shit in the start but then they witness reader showing kindness to a kid controled genlte kindness, now young justice will think why do they not get this kindness why does reader hate us why why WHY, and thus an obbsession would form and eventually delousion with the memory of reader helping the kid being twisted into reader helping them showing that gentle kindness that they oh so wish to have.

(That became a ramble but I think there Are 3 patos we can go for why the JL bothers reader here, A the JL Are becoming yandere for reader, B reader is so powerful that they could easily pull mountains out off the ground, rip giant ships out of space or rip it spart in space (this reader is very inspired by star killer from starwars) or option C its a combo of the 2 previously mentioned.)

Yandere young Justice x reader

The day you joined Young Justice was a day that would forever be etched into their minds, though not for reasons anyone could have anticipated. You stood before them with an expression so blank and emotionless it felt like you were looking through them, not at them, as though they were mere shadows rather than people. Your tone, flat and detached, set the stage for what would come to define your presence among them.

“I’m not here to be your friend,” you said, voice calm but cutting, each word sharp enough to slice through the fragile threads of camaraderie they’d hoped to extend. “I didn’t choose to be here, and I don’t want to be here. This is strictly business.”

The room had fallen into a stunned silence, the team exchanging glances filled with confusion, irritation, and a faint flicker of disbelief. Wally, never one to keep his opinions to himself, had scoffed loudly and leaned back in his chair, the movement exaggerated as though he needed everyone to see just how unimpressed he was.

“Well, that’s one way to introduce yourself,” he said with a roll of his eyes so dramatic it could’ve been mistaken for an acrobatic stunt.

Artemis, who was never far behind when it came to expressing her disdain, crossed her arms and gave you a once-over that screamed skepticism. “Let me guess,” she said with a sneer. “You’re one of those people who thinks teamwork is for suckers, right?”

You didn’t flinch. You didn’t react at all. Instead, you regarded her with the same detached indifference you seemed to have for everything around you. “I’m here to complete missions,” you said simply. “Whether you like me or not doesn’t matter. Just stay out of my way.”

If you had thrown a punch, it would’ve landed softer than your words. The tension in the room was palpable, thick enough to choke on, and though no one said it outright, the unspoken consensus was clear: they didn’t like you, and they didn’t trust you.

But that suited you just fine.

From the very beginning, you were an enigma wrapped in steel.

Mission after mission, you fulfilled your role with precision and efficiency that bordered on inhuman. Where others might falter or hesitate, you moved with unwavering confidence, your psychic abilities tearing through obstacles like they were made of paper. You were power personified, a force of nature contained within a vessel that seemed utterly devoid of humanity.

It wasn’t that you were incompetent—far from it. Your skills on the battlefield were unmatched, and your ability to assess a situation with cold, calculating precision often meant the difference between success and failure. But outside the chaos of combat, you were a ghost. You spoke only when absolutely necessary, offering clipped, impersonal responses that left no room for connection or understanding.

It didn’t take long for the resentment to set in.

“Do you ever think about anyone but yourself?” Robin had snapped one evening after a particularly grueling mission, his voice sharp enough to cut glass. His mask couldn’t quite hide the anger burning in his eyes as he stepped closer, his frustration practically radiating off him in waves.

You had barely spared him a glance, your tone as indifferent as ever. “I did what needed to be done,” you said simply, as though the conversation bored you.

“Yeah, and you ignored the rest of us while you did it!” Wally interjected, his voice rising in pitch as his frustration spilled over. “It’s like you don’t even care if we live or die, as long as the mission gets done!”

For a brief moment, your gaze flicked between the two of them, your expression unreadable. Then, with a shrug that spoke volumes about how little their opinions mattered to you, you turned and began walking away. “You’re still alive, aren’t you?”

Your words left them seething, but they didn’t follow. They couldn’t.

Because deep down, they knew they wouldn’t get through to you.

In truth, their accusations weren’t entirely wrong. You didn’t care—not about their opinions, their feelings, or their endless attempts to drag you into conversations that didn’t concern you. You didn’t care because caring was dangerous.

Your power wasn’t just a gift; it was a burden, a constant weight pressing down on you with an intensity that would’ve crushed anyone weaker. Every emotion, every flicker of feeling, threatened to unravel the fragile control you’d built over the years. A single moment of anger could rip a building from its foundation, a fleeting surge of fear could crush the air from someone’s lungs, and a whisper of sorrow could unleash a psychic storm capable of leveling a city.

So you didn’t allow yourself to feel.

You buried your emotions beneath layers of apathy and detachment, locking them away where they couldn’t hurt anyone. It was easier that way. Safer.

But the team didn’t understand. They couldn’t.

And so, they labeled you as cold, unfeeling, and selfish.

You didn’t correct them.

Everything changed during the mission in Qurac.

The objective had been straightforward: neutralize the alien technology that had been manipulating a local village into violent hostility. The team worked as a unit, moving through the conflict with practiced efficiency, their movements honed by months of training and experience.

You stayed on the outskirts, your psychic energy swirling around you in a tangible aura of power that seemed almost alive. You tore through the enemy with ease, dismantling their defenses like a child breaking apart toys.

But then, amid the chaos, you found him.

A boy, no older than five, huddled beneath a crumbling pile of rubble. His body shook with silent sobs, his tiny hands clutching a broken toy as though it were the only thing anchoring him to the world.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you hesitated.

Slowly, you knelt before him, your movements deliberate and measured, as though afraid any sudden motion might scare him further. “It’s okay,” you said softly, your voice a gentle whisper that barely carried over the noise around you. “You’re safe now.”

The boy looked up at you with wide, tear-filled eyes, his small frame trembling as he clung to the remnants of his shattered world. Carefully, you extended a hand, your psychic energy weaving around him in a protective cocoon that shielded him from the chaos.

“I won’t hurt you,” you promised, your tone softer than anyone had ever heard it.

The boy hesitated for only a moment before reaching for you, his tiny fingers wrapping around yours with a trust that made something in your chest tighten. As you lifted him into your arms, your energy wrapped around him like a blanket, cradling him with a tenderness that felt foreign yet instinctive.

“It’s going to be alright,” you murmured, holding him close.

You didn’t notice the team watching.

They couldn’t stop thinking about it.

The image of you holding that boy, your voice filled with a kindness they’d never heard before, played over and over in their minds like a loop they couldn’t escape. It was so unlike the version of you they thought they knew, so completely at odds with the cold, detached figure who treated them like insignificant coworkers.

For Wally, it became an obsession. He replayed the memory in his mind constantly, dissecting every word, every gesture, every flicker of emotion. He wanted—no, needed—to see that side of you again. But this time, he wanted it for himself.

M’gann’s thoughts took a different path, though no less consuming. She convinced herself that the kindness you’d shown wasn’t an anomaly but a glimpse of your true self, buried beneath layers of pain and fear. “You do care,” she whispered to herself, clinging to the thought as though it were a lifeline. “You just don’t know how to show it.”

Even Robin, the logical and analytical one, found himself unraveling. He began watching you more closely, searching for cracks in the facade you’d built around yourself, desperate for another glimpse of the humanity he now believed was hidden beneath.

They all wanted the same thing: you.

And as their obsession grew, so too did their desperation.

(A/n: it's lacking smth idk what but I tried making it platonic but I think I went overboard and kind made it into romantic??? Please Tell me if I did and be honest 🙏🙏)

––TAGLIST!

@maicenitas

[warrioreowynofrohan]

Reading Tolkien’s annotated translation of Beowulf, and learning all kinds of things about LOTR and the Silm from it!

First:

Leave here your warlike shields [from Beowulf]

[Tolkien’s commentary; bold mine:] Note the prohibition of weapons or accoutrements of battle in the hall. To walk in with spear and shield was like walking in nowadays with your hat on. The basis of these rules was of course fear and prudence among the ever-present dangers of a heroic age, but they were made part of the ritual, of good manners. Compare the prohibition against drawing a sword in the officers’ mess. Swords of course also were dangerous; but they were evidently regarded as part of a knight’s attire, and he would not in any case be willing to lay aside his sword, a thing of great cost and often an heirloom.

This gives me some perspective around Tolkien’s probable intended tone for the moment in Meduseld in The Two Towers where Aragon strongly protests against being told to leave Andúril (a sword of very great value and ancientry, and very much an heirloom) with the door-warden. From a contemporary perspective it’s easy to read it as Aragorn being unnecessarily prideful and combative, but this passage strongly indicates that Tolkien intends it to be Théoden who is being unreasonable in that event, an indication - along with many others in the scene, prior to Gandalf dislodging Saruman’s influence - that Théoden is being discourteous and behaving in a manner unworthy of a king who is recieving heroes offering aid. (The fact of Meduseld being a ‘golden hall’ like famous Heorot in Beowulf may be deliberate to strengthen the parallel.)

Second (immediately following the above commentary):

But against this danger [from swords] very severe laws existed protecting the ‘peace’ of a king’s hall. It was death in Scandanavia to cause a brawl in the king’s hall. Among the laws of the West Saxon king Ine is found: ‘If any man fight in the king’s house, he shall forfeit all his estate, and it shall be for the king to judge whether he be put to death or not.’

This adds context to the incident in the story of Túrin in The Silmarillion where Saeros taunts Túrin in Menegroth and Túrin responds by throwing a heavy drinking-vessel at him and injuring him (it’s indicated the injury is serious, so I’d take it along the lines of him giving him a broken nose and knocking out some teeth.) It is stated in at least some versions of the story that death is the punishment for drawing weapons in the king’s hall, in line with the historical customs mentioned here. This gives a further emphasis that what actually happens - Túrin is not punished at all and Mablung strongly reprimands Saeros for provoking him - illustrates that Túrin is, Saeros’ behaviour notwithstanding, in very high favour in Menegroth. (Saeros as the king’s counsellor is also in roughly the same position as Unferth in Beowulf, who taunts the titular character - Beowulf responds heatedly but without violence. Tolkien may be setting up a deliberate contrast here.)

Third:

The word hádor is an adjective meaning ‘clear, bright’…it is almost always found in reference to the sky (or the sun or stars). But that association is in description of brightness…

This was one a lightbulb moment: oh, in the name of Hador Goldenhead (the ancestor of Húrin, Túrin, and Tuor in The Silmarillion), ‘Goldenhead’ isn’t an additional name/epessë so much as it’s a glossed translation of ‘Hador’! The guy with bright, golden hair.

Fourth: Going back to the Rohirrim - Edoras, the name of their capital city/royal court, is basically just the Old English for ‘courts’:

under was very frequently used in describing position within, or movement to within, a confined space, especially of enclosures or prisons, ‘within four walls’. Cf. in under eoderas (eoderas being the outer fences of the courts), ‘in amid the courts’….‘eoder’ means both ‘fence (protection)’ and ‘fenced enclosure, a court’.

I’m also learning a lot about Beowulf - Tolkien’s notes are clarifying a lot of tone and nuances, not to mention the political/diplomatic relationships between the different kingdoms, which were confusing me - but it’s amazing how much it reveals about ways that Tolkien’s knowledge informed his legendarium!