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sweetheartsaku · 7 months ago

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HAIKYU!! various ; stupidthings4love

a/n: [gn!reader] HEY POOKIES!!!!!! hopefully u enjoy, working on smt new rn!! stay tuned moas!! on skibidi this was longer in my drafts (rip kuroo who was supposed to be here)

— characters : oikawa, akaashi, atsumu

impatiens !

tooru oikawa ; chit chat - beach weather

clings on to your arm like it's his last day on earth. he's like a damsel in distress!! obsessive gf this, obsessive bf that the o in obsessive is oikawa (I'M JOKING ILY OIKAWA POOKS)

⤷ "y/n-ie... be careful..." "hm? what is it handsome..." you utter softly, noticing his gentle tone. you feel a warm presence beside you. wrapped around your arm, was oikawa looking back at what seemed to be another group of fangirls. you giggle, and take your goodbye's with the friend you were talking to. "my fans might bite your arm off!!" "oikawa, don't be silly. the most they could do is throw me a cookie." "YEAH BUT STILL!!! its a COOKIE!!" you smiled to yourself, imagining a girl throwing a cookie at you and just landing on the floor. "i think i'll be okay." you take notice as he becomes the slightest bit more protective, dipping his hand into the palm of yours and looking back at you, chocolate eyes softened.

oikawa had just finished another game, and you'd usually wait for him to have his little small talk with his fangirls. you didn't really have a problem with it, you could trust him enough. he likes to think you know him better than he does, because you always know or can easily provide what he needs most at times! he really appreciates your trust but oftens questions if he's really doing the right thing. what if him talking to his fangirls made you think you weren't showing enough love to him? and that he valued his fangirls over you? or volleyball? or that girl that dumped him back in highschool because he was too absorbed in volleyb- "bae. are you good??" you raise an eyebrow with a smirk. "i love you." "oh-wow. okay thats sudden.

-i love you too, stupid."

strong believer of sharing literally EVERYTHING. you could be brushing your teeth and he's passed out in the tub or something. shares scarf, clothes, food, everything bro 😭💗

⤷ (timeskip!? i think hehe) finally!! a break from volleyball. who knew THE oikawa tooru would be saying that? the brunette thinks to himself. an argentinian, professional volleyball player. saying that, at his vacay in new york city, with the love of his life. but, its not time to be thinking hard right now. to get the most immaculate and full experience of NYC, was obviously booking first class plane tickets, on the dates that peaked in illuminating the refreshing season of NYC's autumn. there is no volley game in the entire world he would ever trade for this ethereal moment, walking down the streets of new york's bustling hustle, hand in hand, matching diamond rings clinking together. a warm, beige plaid scarf enveloping the both of you. "don't want us getting chilly, huh?" he says, wrapping the scarf around you both.

keiji akaashi ; the adults are talking - the strokes

always lets you win board or card games. situations where he's literally bound to win, he will NOT let you lose. he just wants to see you smile. might hide one of your letters in bananagram, grab an extra card in uno, easy bargain-er in monopoly, adding a piece back on the chess board... if he isn't akaashi ion want him 😊

⤷ it's a late night at the coffee table, akaashi has just finished his shower to sit down for a game of chess with a cup of tea. he could clearly read how slightly more excited you've been to sit down and relax with your fiancé after a long week. he found it the sweetest thing on earth, and he'd never trade it for the world. he loved to see you smile, so why not make you smile now? he thought, hiding his grin through the tension between his fingertips and his king he was about to sacrifice.

"keiji." "yes, love?" "you are very silly." you whisper and lightly giggle, moving your bishop to gently kill your fiancé's king, winning the game. an unconscious, pearly smile plays onto your lips (only he could see, despite the numerous times he's reassured her that it's quite charming).

there's truly nothing he'd want to see more than that.

strong believer of sidewalk rule. don't worry bae y/n will not die nor disappear if you take your eyes off them for like 2 seconds

⤷ his thumb gently rubs your knuckle as you walk down the bustling late night city street, lights of restaurants and streetlamps illuminate all of his features. the bridge of his nose, the dark gunmetal green of his eyes, and the apple of his cheekbones. every single feature that shaped the beautiful boy who had put the ring on your finger. tying your laces, putting your jewellery on, and keeping up with the infamous sidewalk rule. little habits he's built since high school, not because he is expected to do so, but because it all comes naturally when it comes to you.

till suddenly, you feel a squeeze on your warm hand, signalling the usual. the switch of places on the concrete. you instinctually react, akaashi discreetly walking on the side near the moving cars. the little things that aren't so little for you, but the little sparks that keep the warmness in your heart kindled.

atsumu miya ; boyfriend (with social house) - ariana grande, social house

always steals your flippin' last bite. it's so annoying, he knows it, and likes it. while you're not looking, he WILL the last bite of your food or a sip of your favourite drink.

⤷ after a long day at work for you, and a long day of training for atsumu, you both comfortably sit in silence at onigiri miya. the faint noises of clutter and cleaning fill the silence, along with boyfriend by ariana grande and social house, playing over the speaker softly. onigiri miya's open sign had just turned around, and the warm light of the hanging sign outside flickers off. osamu effortlessly places the tray of warm onigiri in front of you two, and a shared smile laces upon your faces.

"thank you!!" you and atsumu chirp in unison, osamu acknowledges your gratitude, and discreetly smiles to himself as he prepares to clean up the kitchen. you both each take one onigiri, automatically knowing who prefers which type of onigiri (atsumu's is the cold tuna, yours can be what you prefer ♡ mine is tuna as well hehe). digging in, suddenly there was only one bite of yours left. mouth still full, you suddenly can't remember if you kept the receipt of your failed custom mug you had purchased the other day. it makes you wonder, then your curiosity takes over you before you could take the last bite of your onigiri! you glace and search into your bag, hand still holding a chunk of onigiri. you sigh of relief, noticing you had kept your receipt! but... something is missing.

your last bite of onigiri.

but, in his so called 𝓅𝓊𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒾𝓃𝓃𝑜𝒸𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝒹𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈 he will let you have the first bite of his favourite food.

⤷ "aYE! 'tsumu!" you playfully hit his shoulder, as he has an absolute giggle attack. to him, it's like there was genuine fury and fire coming out of your eyes and he found it the most hilarious thing ever LMAO. (but for me personally, i wouldn't take that.) "i wilL ACTUALLY DELETE YOUR FIFA ACCOUNT IF YOU KEEP THIS UP." "oKAYOKAYOKAY!!! i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry pf-" he says as he is STILL having his giggle fit. obviously, the correct reaction is to look away and cross your arms. you do exactly that, and he realises what he's done (caused the next war). he suddenly gets a little touchier, and says "dear y/n-ieee... i promise to give you the first bite of the next food we eat, m'kayyy? from the pure, and innocent kindness of my heart!" he chimes. interrupted by a genuine, heartfelt shout of,

"oh shut yer' trap!"

"SAMU!"

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu various x reader #oikawa x reader #akaashi x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu drabble #haikyuu drabbles #hq x reader

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katrotica · 11 months ago

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Ok, here goes nothing! I'm celebrating Transgender Day of Visibility on both my blogs today. Here's hoping this one makes it thru. There's a story behind this poster, and it got even more complex today. I made this Daisy Taylor poster a long time ago—in the very early days of Katrotica, and it was promptly rejected by tumblr as being inappropriate (this was after they decided that nudity was ok, just not trans nudity apparently). So, the poster has been sitting in my archive ever since. I have noticed that recently tumblr has been allowing me to post things that normally would have been rejected, so I'm giving it another go. I tired, anyways. Here's what happened tho: the moment I dragged my Daisy poster into the post, it converted it into one of those awful tumblr images with the blue background and the white and blue text informing you that you've violated the community policies (even when you haven't). Instantly it did that! While the poster was sitting here in draft mode! Turns out, once an image has been banned it goes into some kind of special tumblr library and is immediately rejected if you try again. Wow. So, I tried a sneaky thing, which is why Daisy's cute Gemini tattoo says inimeG—I flipped the image of her to see if it would trick the robots. And so far, so good. Now, it'll likely get banned the moment I post it, but I need to try anyways. Seems appropriate to celebrate Transgender day of Visibility with an image that has been banned in the past due to it being "too visible." Here's hoping!

#daisy taylor #transgender #transgender day of visibility #trans day of visibility

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miraclewoozi · 2 years ago

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VERSACE ON THE FLOOR. -l.jh

ooh, i love that dress but you won’t need it anymore –

Or, the time you and your homebody boyfriend* decide to just… not go to your dinner plans.

pairing; lee jihoon x fem reader. content; fluff, suggestive (MINORS DNI). established relationship. warnings; relatively warning free (y'all i didn't even swear???) but just in case -- a couple of dorky jokes, reader wears a dress, makeup and heels, making out, undressing. let me know if i've forgotten anything. w/c; 2.4k (apparently i am in my shorter fic era? party.) note; if there's one thing i'm gonna do, no matter what day of the week it is, it's be disgustingly delusional about jihoon. get ur dentists on speedial, it's a tooth rotter (/j). note 2.0; i've had this one in the drafts for so long i had forgotten all about it! but then VOTF came on shuffle a few days ago (and i started thinking about light a flame woozi at the same time, which nearly fucking killed me), so. here we are. enjoy.<3

You don’t go out for dates very often. Not anymore, at least.

When you and Jihoon first got together, he took you out all the time. For dinners, to cocktail bars, to the movies, for walks down the beach, picnics by the river. It didn’t matter where you went as long as it put a smile on your face — all he ever wanted to do was make you feel special. No expense has ever been too great for his favourite girl, after all; he’s always loved to spoil you.

Now several years into your relationship, you’re a real pair of homebodies. Sure, he could take you out for a four course dinner at an expensive restaurant in the middle of the city, or reserve a table at a pretentious cocktail bar that plays slightly too loud music that’s always just to the left of either of your tastes. Then again… He could cook a nice meal for you to have at the apartment you share, where you can make your way through a bottle of bubbles without one of you needing to stay sober to drive home or else risk your lives in a sketchy cab.

It’s something you’ve talked about several times, and on every occasion, it’s quite apparent that you’re both very happy with the way things are. If anything, it makes it all the more special when he tells you he needs you to keep your weekend free because he’s making plans, and he wants to whisk you away.

Like now, for instance. The hotel suite he’s booked is gorgeous and you’re perched on the edge of the plush bedding, bent over double so that you can properly fasten your shoes while he finishes getting ready in the bathroom. Now and again, you hear a grumble or a click of his tongue float through the ajar door; every time, you feel a smile play at your lips as you shake your head. He never changes. (You’re so glad.)

“Jihoon,” you call to him softly. You can practically see how he’ll be standing – facing the mirror, on his tiptoes to lean over the bathroom counter and get as close to his own reflection as he possibly can. Pouting as his fingers drag through his hair to try and fix the strands in place just a tiny bit better. “Don’t you dare come out here looking like Sonic the Hedgehog. You know the more you play with it, the more annoyed you’re going to get.”

A few seconds later, he emerges, an eyebrow raised in challenge, an amused grin tugging his lips out of their habitual frown.

(And lo and behold — his hair looks absolutely fine.)

But the second he sees you, whatever witty comeback he was obviously very proud of dies on his lips, and you straighten up with only one of your shoes secured to your foot, the other just slipped on over your toes.

“Wow,” he says, in that soft, deep, quiet way that he does when you’ve really taken his breath away. You watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallows; you see his brow crinkle and his eyes widen, as if he’s trying to see as much of you as he possibly can. “Is that…?”

“Yeah,” you nod proudly, sitting back and smoothing your hands over the dress you’re wearing. “From our first anniversary.”

As his eyes move over you, taking in everything from the way the straps sit on your shoulders to the way the hem lays across your thigh, your own eyes move over him. The top three buttons of his shirt are still unfastened and his tie hangs either side, tucked beneath his collar but not knotted yet. His slacks have been cleanly pressed, a neat, crisp seam running down the front of both legs. Shoes shined to perfection. Expensive watch strapped around his wrist.

He might just be the most handsome man in the entire world.

“I remember you saying you really liked it, so… I dug it out, special.”

“You look incredible,” he says. It’s so gentle, so sincere, that you think your heart is about to burst clean out of your chest. Warmth trickles the length of your spine, and it isn’t exactly helped when you realise – only now as he starts to cross the room to get closer to you – that he hadn’t moved an inch since he surfaced from the bathroom almost a full ninety seconds ago.

He shrinks down so he’s rested on both of his knees in front of you, skilful hands moving to help with the shoe you hadn’t managed to lace up yet. every time his fingertips so much as brush against your skin, the electricity in his gentle touches shoots all the way from the point of contact up to your brain and leaves it fogged, impossible to make any sense through the thick clouds of intimacy and adoration. More-so as he smoothly lifts your leg a little and presses his lips once to the inside of your ankle, even foggier still as he trails kisses up the length of your calf towards your knee.

“Jihoon,” you laugh breathlessly, laying a hand on his shoulder as you feel his tongue press lightly against your skin. He finally sits back on his heels, running his fingers up and down the backs of your legs; he’s successfully managed to hike your dress up a few inches now, too, and he keeps flitting his gaze between your face and your thighs. “We can’t – we’ll be late.”

“We have ages,” he frowns, shuffling closer and trying to bump your knees apart, but you keep your muscles engaged and he doesn’t pull at them that hard, so they don’t budge.

“We have to get there, too,” you remind him. He throws his head back and sighs dramatically. The neckline of his dress shirt seems to open a little more when he looks back at you, drawing your attention down the length of his neck to his bulging chest, and the muscular forearms that he crosses in front of it.

“And this is why we don’t go out.”

“What, because you’re horny all the damn time?” You tease.

He gently swats at the top of your thigh before soothing it with another small kiss.

“Because when you look this good, how am I supposed to want to go and eat a steak instead?”

He grins up at you from the floor, quite clearly delighted with himself for his little gag. You, however, flop back onto the mattress and cover your face with your hands.

“That was so bad,” you chuckle. You’ve been trying for years to not melt to his very specific sense of humour, but it’s all been completely futile. Your reluctant laughs turn to sweet, breathy giggles by the time he lays both his arms across your legs and rests his chin on top of them. You prop yourself up on one elbow to look at him; he’s staring up at your face like he thinks he’ll never see anything as beautiful as you for the rest of his life.

“Maybe… We don’t have to go out for dinner,” he suggests. “Maybe we can stay in tonight, too.”

“Horndog.” You tsk. But you’re not disappointed at the idea of staying in, either, regardless of whether your teasing implies otherwise. “I knew you’d say that.”

“No — really,” he swallows. You aren’t sure if you can feel his heart beating a little faster where his chest is pressed completely against your shins, or if you’re just imagining it. But the tips of his ears are going pink too, so you think it’s safe to trust your intuition on this one. “I mean-… we don’t have to go. I could-…”

He bites the inside of his cheek before he looks down, pressing his forehead against his arms and hiding his face completely.

“I could do it here.”

He says these words quietly. Mumbles them, really. You aren’t sure if you were meant to hear, or if he was just talking to himself. But either way, it has to be worth a shot to find out.

“What do you mean, Ji?”

One, two, three seconds pass. And… Nothing.

“Hey.”

You bounce your thighs a little so he’s forced to look up at you, and you can see something swimming in his eyes. Something brewing. He sits back from you and pushes a hand through his hair; a few strands lose their stick to the rest of the main body and tumble down over his forehead. Exactly in the way he was trying to prevent.

“I could just do it here.”

He says this louder. Clearer. With much more finality. You sit up properly, then, both your hands clasped together in your lap.

“Do what here, baby?”

His eyes find yours and you sit there for a few moments, unwrapping each other's minds with nothing more than a look and a matching pair of gentle — but slightly concerned — smiles.

He moves one hand down and slips it into the back left pocket of his slacks. You think you can feel the world around you start to slow.

When he shifts a leg from beneath him so he’s on one knee before you and presents you with a glittering diamond ring, it stops altogether.

“Jihoon,” you breathe.

He glances between the ring and you, biting his bottom lip before he speaks.

“I had it-… I had everything planned.” He laughs, looking away from your face as even more rising heat becomes evident on his own. “Down to the second, even. But just like you always do — just like the first time I saw you, and just like every time since… You threw me a curve ball and… Somehow, you’ve changed everything. But you made it so much better.

“I think I was supposed to find you, y/n,” Jihoon says. “I don't know what’s up there, what’s in charge of when we meet the people we meet and why we fall in love with the people we fall in love with. but I know that they were really looking out for me the day you came into my life.”

You can feel your eyes starting to sting at the corners and you will the tears away, desperate not to smudge the makeup you spent so long trying to perfect. You know he’d love you either way — mascara tear tracks and splotchy concealer and all — but…

“I am so in love with you that sometimes, it really hurts. It hurts because I know that no one’s ever going to come close — about anyone in the world — to feeling the way I feel about you. I feel bad for everyone, a bit. Because you’re not-… you're not with them. You’re with me. But I wouldn’t want any of them to be with you, because-... and… and if you’ll have me, I want you to be with me forever.”

You don't know when you started slowly nodding along to his little monologue, but you definitely are. You’re not sure when you started holding your breath either, but that’s two for two. He looks up at you, expectantly, fluttering his eyelashes and stuttering out a long, deep breath.

“Y/n, will you marry me?”

Some decisions, you’ve always thought, are made for you at a cosmic level. Your favourite colours. Your favourite foods. Hot and cold weather people. Loving or hating marmite. A predisposition to enjoying scary movies or being the kind of person who hides behind a pillow.

This is another one of those. You don’t have to think twice about it — you just know. You know because a great unstoppable force managed to squeeze you together at the perfect moment in time; the ever-expanding universe around you has kept you and Jihoon side by side through everything it could possibly throw at you.

“Yes.”

Of course you want to spend your forever with him.

The word leaves your mouth in a whisper and everything flies back into motion. The first black droplet rolls down your cheek. His usually so steady hands fumble with yours to slide the ring over your finger. A perfect fit. You’re hurtling through space and time as he gets up off his knees and cups your cheeks, gently pulling you upright and crashing his lips against yours. You stumble into him slightly in your heels; his kiss is more a chaotic clatter of teeth and giddy laughter than perhaps the intense, romantic gesture he was aiming for, but it’s completely, utterly, unequivocally perfect.

Jihoon’s fancy dress shirt creases under your fingers as you ball it into your fists where the top buttons are spread open, pulling him as close as you can, laughter dying down as he loses himself in you and as you lose yourself in him, right back. He swallows all of your gasps and sighs, hands sliding down from your face to the sides of your neck, until he’s resting a palm on each of your shoulders. A single finger slips beneath one of the straps and he pulls it out of the way, down onto your arm, withdrawing from your mouth so that he can press a series of kisses down your cheek and to your jaw instead.

“Ji,” you murmur, tipping your head back and fumbling at the buttons running the length of his torso, trying and failing to get them open. He chuckles, his other hand coming to rest over yours to stop you. You lace your fingers together, feeling him squeeze. Your heart pounds.

“Let's take our time,” he whispers to you, thumb grazing over your collarbone. “Okay?”

All you can do is nod as he kisses lower, and lower, pressing his lips everywhere he can while he’s still standing. Your neck and shoulders feel ablaze, tickling with the heat of the burning stars his mouth paints across your skin.

“Need-... Ji, you need to-... call… call the restaurant,” you stutter. “Gotta…. we need to cancel…”

The fleeting sting of his teeth against your throat interrupts you and you’re only aware of him reaching behind you to tug the zipper of your dress down when the material falls completely slack..

“In a minute,” he says, helping you walk backwards until your calves collide with the bed behind you once again. He eases you to lie down on the comforter and crawls on top of you, caging you in with both arms, taking hold of your left hand again.

He looks down at the ring on your finger, his entire face breaking into the most brilliant of smiles. Every inch, from the creases at the corners of his eyes to the paling stretch of his beautiful lips.

“My future wife needs taking care of, first.”

– no you won’t need it no more, let’s just kiss ‘til we’re naked, baby.

hehe thank u sm for reading!! i hope you enjoyed this bc it was a bit special 2 me. likes, reblogs, comments + feedback are all, as always, greatly appreciated.<3

#woozi fluff #woozi fic #woozi x reader #lee jihoon fluff #lee jihoon fic #lee jihoon x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen fic #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #j writes.#*#running off into the void now <3 don't perceive me BYE

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savnofilter · 2 years ago

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Oh wow,,, to be Stain's younger sister and found by Tenya then fucked brutally as savage revenge against your brother

tenya iida x [afab] reader

warning(s): sexual content, revenge sex, degradation, dumbification if you squint, reader fucked stupid, hate fucking, begging, cervix trope.

read more: masterlist | student masterlist

a/n: this has sit in my drafts for so long but ive finally thought of an idea. if you dont like rough & mean fucking this not for yew. thank you anon!

your brain felt as though it was turning into mush.

the simple act of keeping your eyes shut only aided slightly in trying to keep yourself from totally losing it. your mouth is agape, drool running down the side of your mouth and your head is hung low. your body rocks violently back and forth as your ass has no choice but to meet the harsh thrusts of the navy blue haired hero behind you.

you couldn't even moan. the force at which his cock piston in-and-out of your sopping cunt was a testament to how much you secretly desired this—despite the circumstances on which why this is happening to begin with.

you had heard him spit something out at you, but you had no more braincells left to respond, much less hear whatever he said. Ingenium's hands gripped at your delicate skin, the taught texture of his gloves creating an uncomfortable sensation similar to a rug burn. each time he brought your back against him, he used his hold on your arms to force you back onto his cock.

"Speech--less, huh?" at least, that's what you think he said. you groan in response, tears brimming at your eyes when you feel him adjust his hips slightly, his length now brushing at your g-spot and now aiming to fit the rest of his cock within your cunt. "Dumb bitch."

after all of these years, you would have thought that you could have been untraceable to your mock-vigilante brother, Stain. which the man had apparently traumatized one of the newest super heroes years ago before he could make a proper name for himself. the man new aged past that point, it's almost ridiculous with how much anger and passion he has to nearly fuck your brains out.

when you came home, that's where Ingenium—the youngest of two brothers—waited for you. he had started patient with before getting aggressive very fast. to be honest you weren't too sure how you ended up with his huge cock stuffed within you, but the outcome was very much appreciated. your brother's actions led you to this point and you're honestly not too sure that you're complaining. except maybe for the fact when you presumably wake up in the morning, you'd be sore all over, nauseous and dirty with all the fluids from tonight.

you whimper trying to signal him that yet another orgasm was about to cum, but he ignored your protests. small sobs escape your lips upon the sensation of his tip now pocking at your cervix at each thrust.

"P..lease!" you slur out. you could feel your walls quiver, your body readying for yet another orgasm brought upon from the man behind you.

as if Ingenium couldn't hear you, or give a fuck, he brings you back against his cock harsher, the impact bringing stars into your vision. a shriek leaves your mouth as you finish once again, a deep shiver racking through body as his pace never lets up. at this rate you weren't sure when he was going to finish.

you just hope that your brother will forgive you if he ever found out...

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #iida x reader #iida smut #iida thirst #talk iida #not sfw #d drabbles

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unluckyhoneybee · 1 year ago

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All the pretty girls Pt2. (Pyotr Kochetkov)

After all the drama, Pyotr was finally with you and he wanted everything. Smut. Continuation of : All the pretty girls Note: this has sat on my drafts for so long I can't even remember who asked for this. I hope you like it! Warnings: +18. Penetrative sex (p in v), oral (f receiving)

His back muscles moved as he worked in the kitchen. The Canes sweats he wore hung low on his hips. Being used to see him with baggy clothes or his equipment, you were a bit taken aback. It was instantly when your pulse increased and your throat ran dry.

"Hi"

Pyotr turned around fast. Caught in the act. "Hi" He said. Sweat formed on his forehead when he took in your apearence. How were you his now?

"What are you doing?" You walked slowly on his direction and he got nervous.

"Cereal" He said. "For you in bed"

Butterflies filled your belly. Just like when you visited him in Chicago that night and he tried to cook pancakes. It was a complete failure.

"Better than pancakes?"

Pyotr rolled his eyes.

"You try next time"

You nodded in response and took another step. There was a mark on his neck, you remembered leaving it last night. Warmth filled your belly. You had made love in the sofa last night. It had been quick and awkward, both of you too desperate to feel the other to care about anything else. As you had told him, you had all the time now. It had been intense but short and both of you got knocked out as soon as you laid on the bed. But still, you couldn't believe you had felt him like that. He hadn't been shy while pushing his hands under your clothes, or while toying with your underwear. Words hadn't been needed, the lenguage wasn't a problem then, Pyotr only needed to whisper your name and you exactly knew what he needed from you.

Pyotr was looking down at you. His clothes were huge on you, the sleeves too long and the shoulders too wide. He could see your cleavage and shoulders a bit. He just wanted to dive in and take a bite. But maybe you should have breakfast first.

You leaned on his side and hugged his waist with one arm. It was incredible to feel his body react to you. Pyotr wrapped one arm around your shoulders only so he could bring you close. A sweet kiss in your forehead and he spoke.

"Grab cereal, please?"

"Of course. But before..." You got in your tiptoes and kissed his lips. "Good morning"

"Good morning" He said groggily.

You let go of him and picked the bowls. But Pyotr couldn't contain himself and slapped your ass. You gasped and looked at him with big eyes. He shrugged and you laughed in response.

"You are lucky I love you" You whispered. Surprisingly, he caught every single word. Wow. "Hey, babe?"

"Mmm, yes" He quickly grabbed some milk and spoons and sat on the small kitchen table. It was small enough for your legs to touch, but you didn't care. Intantly, your legs were over his lap and Pyotr had a cute blush on his cheeks. He would need a couple of days to come to terms with all of this. Wanting it for so long, it was kind of unbelievable to be like this with you. On your side, it was as if you had lost all the restraints. You always wanted to be this close, to pinch his cheeks, to kiss his lips, to hug him, to sit on him... Now that you could, you wouldn't stop.

Like always, Pyotr set his phone on the table, translator on and ready to help.

"I talk to Andrei"

You frowned a bit.

"Today"

"Oh, again?"

He nodded.

"Uh... I want... Uh..." He shook his head and tyoed on the phone. Then he showed you so you would tell him how to pronounce. That's how you worked and he loved it.

"Advice" A little smile tugged on your lips.

"Advice. Good?"

"Yeah. About what?"

He chuckled and pointed at you. "About me? Why?"

He wrote again and read. "I want to take you out on a date" Slow and clumsy, he pronounced every word on thick accent. "Good?"

"I'd love to go on a date with you"

He looked down at the phone and smiled when the translation appeared.

"Andrei say restaurant to me"

You arched a brow. "Which one?"

He zipped his lips while smiling.

"You teach more English, yes?"

"Of course, sweetheart"

Pyotr had quickly learnt what those little words meant. He had to ask Andrei a couple of times at the beginning and it was so embarrassing to discover it that way because Andrei would always wiggle his eyebrows at him or mockingly call him by your cute nicknames at practice.

"I want to learn Russian too, you know?" You told him. He looked down at the translator and his eyes opened so big.

"Yes?"

"Mhm"

He grabbed your chin and gave you a kiss. Well, you could call him a kiss. He slammed his mouth against yours, his lips swallowing a surprised moan from you. Pyotr was feeling all kind of overwhelming things, maybe because of the shock from last night or maybe because of the exciment of finally having you. And it showed on the kiss. You had a hard time keeping up. So you pressed your thumb on his lips and pulled back only a couple of centimeters.

"What do you want?" You whispered. His beautiful eyes stared at you for long seconds.

"You"

"You have me"

"I know" He nodded, his forehead lovingly nudging yours. "You mine"

"I'm yours" You assured him and gave him a deeper but slower kiss. Damn the cereal, you thought. It can definitely wait.

You got up but barely parted from him, only when he moved back to look at you. Last night, in the middle of the hurry, you had barely taken time to undress. Your shirt stayed on, his trousers stayed on, you didn't remember much more, only that you almost didn't got a peak. So you grabbed the edge of your his hoodie and slowly pulled it up.

Pyotr watched you open mouthed. He had felt you, touched you in any way you let him, but what he had imagined had nothing to do with this. With his English completely forgotten, he spoke Russian, which you didn't understand. So the moment came to halt for a second. "You are the most beautiful woman in the world" He read from his phone after typing exactly what he had said. He wouldn't need to memorize those words like others. He would remember just by picturing how you smiled when you heard him.

You cupped his cheeks and kissed him again, slow, deep, wet, Pyotr was starting to love it. You both had a great contrast. He was more impulsive, more needy. You liked to take it slow. He had his moment last night. He had taken you apart in what felt like a couple of seconds (not that you complained). Now it was your turn.

Pyotr pushed his chair away from the table to give you space right between his knees. He guided you there, bringing you closer while his eyes took in your naked torso. Could he just lean and kiss you and did he need to ask? How could he ask? He didn't want to grab the phone now.

"You are so handsome" You whispered and cupped his cheeks. He looked up and swallowed. "I love your eyes" There was something in you pushing you to speak, to tell him all of that, to let him know how much you adored him. You didn't want him to feel insecure or to think you'd be better with someone else. "And your nose" Your thumb caressed the straight bridge of his nose, then it moved to his cheek right under his eye. He sighed and closed them for a second. Your hand was so warm and soft on his skin. "And your lips" You parted his lips with your thumb and his tongue brushed it softly. Pump and rosy from the kisses, they looked so delicious. You leaned closer and kicked into his mouth. Pyotr felt delirious, his fingers were probably leaving prints in your thighs. His mouth tried to catch yours when you pulled back, which made you smile and him groan. "I'm so lucky to have you. I can't believe I have you" you slid your finger on his mouth and Pyotr whined. "Are you mine?" You spoke slow and clear, making sure he could understand every single word. He eagerly nodded. "Are you?"

Your heart was beating so hard, he was so responsive to you. It was clear that Pyotr would do anything you asked him to do.

"Yours"

"Mine" Finally you kissed him. Immediately, his mouth responded to yours, kissing back just as deep and passionately.

Pyotr needed more, he wanted you already, he wanted you to do something. His fingers eagerly pulled down your trousers. You stepped out of them. You stood there, completely bare and shaking in excitement. Pyotr was watching you with his mouth agape and a hard on hidden on his grey sweatpants.

"Perfect" he laid his hand on your belly and you started shaking. His long and warm fingers moved up slowly as a cheeky grin grew on his lips. Pyotr was the one who, with barely touching you, was making your knees buckle and he was so proud of it. "You want me"

You nodded and bit your lip and he kept going up. His right hand found the curve of your breast and his left your lower back. In a sift movement, he brought you close and caged you with his arm. You laid your hands on his shoulders and your breath turned quicker and deeper.

Pyotr's eyes were on your skin. There were little marks here and there and goosebumps all over the place. He had discovered only a minute ago that you were ticklish right were he was touching you. Your body reacted different. He could point where you were slightly more sensitive. He just wanted to play and use it on his favour.

His thumb moved over the invisible line right under your breast. But you were the impatient one this time. With your fingers on the back of his neck you pulled him closer to your chest and his mouth opened for you. Warm and wet, he wrapped his lips around your nipple.

"Oh, Pyotr" You gasped loudly and he groaned.

Eagerly, the goalie pulled you to his lap and kept you impossibly close to him, with your back straight and your breast right were he could reach them. Perfectly shaped and soft, Pyotr planned on giving them the attention they deserved.

The bulge in his trousers pressed right on your naked core and you moaned. But Pyotr didn't care. He was busy mouthing at your breast, bitting at your sensitive nipples and sucking with his lips until they got impossibly hard. The more he did, the better it felt. Wet from his saliva, it was so easy to roll them with his fingers. And all the stimulation was pooling on your lower belly and shooting pleasure waves right to your clit.

"P, baby... I can't..." Because as sensitive you were, it had never been enough to come undone this way. It only made you a dripping mess right between your legs, were you needed him the most.

But again, he didn't pay much attention. Instead, he palmed at your breast giving softness with one hand while he bit your nipple and pulled on the other. A choked moan broke out of your chest, your head hanging back and your hips pressing harder into his. "Please, please, please"

"What?" He looked up and carefully (the last thing he wanted was to hurt you) he gave your nipple a soft smack. Another pretty sound left your lips and you desperately looked down at him. Your hands, that were cupping the back of his neck, traveled quickly downwards.

"You want what, baby? Say to me" He bit the soft flesh of your boob hard enough to print his lips there and you felt the air leaving your lungs.

"You" You said and grabbed his face with one hand. "I have waited for so long to have you, Pyotr..." He thanked his most recent lessons for being able to catch most of what you said. "So long" You pulled his trousers enough to free him. No underwear. It made you smile.

He lifted you enough so he could push them half way on his thighs. "Better" then he reached his pocket and pulled a condom out.

You chuckled in disbelief. "I will fuck you in all house" He whispered while staring into your eyes. It gave shivers to your already shaken body. Pyotr put the condom on and help you move right above his hips.

"Slow, okay?" You said before kissing him.

"Okay" He whispered back between kisses.

You hugged his shoulders with one arm and pushed your forehead against his. Then, you started to slide him in. Pyotr groaned and bit his lip with that first touch, you closed your eyes tight and tried to breathe through your nose. "Oh babe" You whined. You tried to move, you circled your hips and slowly moved up and down. It was torture for both of you but it took you a bit until you could completely sink in. "Pyotr... Oh god... Y-you are so big" You desperately said as you finally could move freely.

"Yes..." He nodded quickly, he didn't know how to express what he was feeling, he just hoped you could feel it. So he kissed you deeply and grabbed you by your hips and ass cheeks. You were moving slowly, he was thrusting up to you. You could feel him everywhere and his kisses were more intense than ever. You mouthed and bit his shoulders with some newfound hunger.

"Perfect" He groaned against your cheek before gently biting you there.

Maybe it was because you were so in love with him, or the deep connection you two had, but you felt everything in a consuming way. You wanted to cry and grab into him to never let go, you wanted to give in and allow him to do whatever he wanted.

"more, need more" He panted. "Please, give me more" He begged. With those big brown eyes looking at you. You whimpered. But Pyotr was big and your legs felt like jelly.

Your fingers gripped his shoulder and the back of his head and the groan that escaped his lips was so delicious you had to kiss him. He could feel you needed some help, so he grabbed handfuls of your ass to help your moves (not that he complained).

You moaned loudly at the quicker pace. But for Pyotr, it wasn't enough. He grabbed you and a second later you were on the table. You gasped loudly and gripped his arm. "P"

"I have you" He said with a soft smile and slid back in you. Your eyes rolled back with the new angle and he chuckled. "You like it"

"I love it, I love you" You panted with big doe eyes. "Fuck"

Now Pyotr was in charge, now he could do as he pleased. But he was determined to make you enjoy and remember this for a long time. He pushed you back and you lay on the cold surface. You were a goddess, he was so sure of it now. He must have been a good man if the universe had sent you to him. While his hips moved slowly, very different from what he had begged for, his hand crawled its way up from your belly to the valley of your breast and then your neck. Your breath hitched for a second and you closed your eyes when he put some pressure in there. But then he kept moving and with a particularly hard thrust, Pyotr let his thumb slide in your mouth. You looked into his eyes as your lip wrapped around his finger. There were sweat beads on his forehead and chest. He was flustered and his hair was falling around his face. It was unreal. So you sucked his finger, you did just as you would suck him, swirling your tongue around and teasing with your lips. And Pyotr lost it.

A soft pop sounded when he pulled it from your mouth and it was followed by a moan when he started rubbing circles in your clit. Your legs shook around his waist and your hand flew to your breast. Laying on the table like that, Pyotr took mental notes of how you looked.

"Good? Feel good, yeah?"

"So good"

Now he was quicker. He was trying to reach all the pleasure you gave him. He was on cloud nine with you around him, his hands on your hips and your eyes on his. And he knew he wouldn't last much longer but he didn't care when you looked like you were fallen apart in a desperate need for more, more pleasure, more Pyotr.

That was exactly how you felt, with the climax right there, the pleasure so high but yet not enough.

Pyotr felt it, hard and like lightning, he came undone without warning. More vocal than ever, his hips thrust harder while you desperately scratched his abdomen. Don´t leave me like this, please. Your eyes said. But for a few seconds, he was blinded by the intense pleasure over his body. He barely heard your cries, "Please, please, please" You begged.

"Yes, yes" He said.

His legs thanked him when he knelt in front of you, they could barely keep him upwards after that. Not giving you enough time to process anything, he dived in between your legs.

You sat so you could see him. His eyes were closed and was simply giving you everything he had. It made your head spin. Vibrations were sent over you every time you ran your fingers through his hair. With all the passion he put in, he made you come with his mouth in only a couple of minutes, bringing you closer to the edge of the table and his face to get the last taste until it became unbearable.

Shaking and grabbing into him the best you could, you cried in pleasure until you had actual tears in your eyes. "Stop, stop" You said pushing him away.

Pyotr sat back on his heels and looked at you. You were shaking, he didn't know if it was cold or everything else. You had bite marks on your chest and shoulders, they would probably fade, but he was proud for now. Your chest was heaving slowly with deep breaths.

"I love you" He simply said as if he didn't look like a tornado had run over him. His hair was so messy and his skin so pink and sweaty.

You laughed in disbelief. "I love you too, P"

He grabbed your ankle and leaned closer to leave a warm and soft kiss on your leg. You caressed his cheek with bright eyes.

Then he tried to get up and groaned when all his muscles complained. You giggled.

"You try walk and I laugh then" He said pointing at you with irony in his voice. You laughed and flipped him off.

He threw the condom to the bin and then came to help you down the table, giving you a look when you huffed. "This is all your fault"

He frowned. "Fault?"

"You made this, Pyotr!" You exclaimed with fake annoyance.

"Oh yes, I did" He said chuckling, but then he pulled you close and kissed the top of your head. "You will be fine"

You kissed his chest and nodded. "Shower?" You suggested.

"Yes please" He giggled and reached to your hair. "You have cereal"

With that, you both started laughing, pure happiness floating in the room for being finally together. After waiting so long, he finally had the girl of his dreams.

#pyotr kochetkov x reader #pk #fic #smut #nhl x reader #pyotr kochetkov

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quitealotofsodapop · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! It's me again :3, I don't know (and remember) if anyone has asked this before but I would like to know:

How did OG!MK feel when he found out that SW is his father in another dimension (I feel like Mei would say something like "See? I told you he was your dad" or something)

If it happens before S4, I feel like Mk would be a little jealous of his other self seeing that he doesn't have the problem of not knowing who his biological parents.

(The idea occurred to me when I remembered a tiktok that said MK used any type of editing app to get an idea of what his parents would look like 🥲)

omg if you have that tiktok I'd love a link XD

Think i did do a post like that ages ago, but only with an earlier draft of TMKATI and canon. Now I have like three more verses to torment MK with >:)

When the Canon verse and the other verses collide, the quickest thing the MKs would notice is their appearances.

OG!MK: "Whoa!! These me's are monkey demons!" TMKATI!MK: "And you guys are... human???" SlowBoiled!MK: "Yeah, why wouldn't him- I mean me be?" CenturyEgg!MK: "I don't know about you guys - but my parents are monkey demons. Then again my gūtā [dad's gender neutral older sibling] is human, I think???" JTTWEgg!MK: "My parents are monkey demons! The coolest monkey demons ever I may brag." TMKATI!MK: "Oh no way! My parents are monkey demons too! i have a bunch of adopted siblings though. Does your dad work with Bóbo[dad's older brother] Pigsy too?" CenturyEgg!MK: "No cus Uncle Pigsy and Tang lives in the city. We all live on Flower Fruit Mountain - but we visit as often as possible! Uncle Sandy ferries us across all the time." :3 OG!MK: "Wow!! You two live on the mountain!? What's it like?" JTTWEgg!MK, shrugging: "It's cool." CenturyEgg!MK: "Sometimes feel pressured by my role as Heir to the Stone Throne - but I wouldn't trade it for the world. I really don't like having to visit the Celestial Realm though. The nobles are kinda mean about my dad cus he caused a bunch of havoc a long time ago." The Other MKs: "wut" OG!MK: "Uh... Please explain who your parents are?" CenturyEgg!MK, confused by their confusion: "Sun Wukong the Monkey King, and Liu'er Mihou the Sage of Wind??? I thought you guys were too???" JTTWEgg!MK: "Yeah, mine are too. I thought you guys knew??" SlowBoiled!MK: "No- well kind- it's complicated! Ok!?" TMKATI!MK: "Not me. My parents are normal monkey demons, dude." OG!MK: "Oh my gods the Monkey King *is* our dad in another universe! Mei is never gonna let me forget this!" CenturyEgg!MK: "Well techinically he's my mom too so..." The Other MKs: "lol wat?" JTTWEgg!MK: "lol same."

The different MKs collaborate to tell stories about themselves (and get a solid PSA on Stone Eggs) while their respective Meis are snapping photos with eachother.

The different monkeys watch on nervously. The different monkey kings are sitting politely as their Macaques hiss at eachother from across the room.

OG!SWK: "So uh... did you tell him yet?" Other Monkeys: "Tell him what?" SlowBoiled!SWK: "About him being made by Nuwa, or the fact that we were forced to abandon him?" The CenturyEgg and TMKATI monkeys: "What." TMKATI!SWK, laughing nervously: "What? Oh gods no. I thought you guys meant telling him who we are!" The Other Monkeys: "Wut" CenturyEgg!SWK: "Your MK doesn't know that you guys are... Us?" TMKATI!LEM: "Nah, we've sorta been off-the-grid ever since genius here [thumb-points at his SWK] got me pregnant with our MK." The Stone Egg au SWKs: "Hah!" "Uno reverse card, plums!" Stone Egg LEMs: *all three have varying looks of horror, indignance, and bashfulness* SlowBoiled!LEM: "I said I was sorry!" OG!LEM: "Wait... what do you mean by sorry?" SlowBoiled!LEM, looking uncomfortable: "Cus of our uh... fight under the Mountain, and me not returning to feed him, I sorta caused Wukong's body to create a Stone Egg... and then I sorta died before I found out so..." JTTWEgg!LEM: "Ooof. Glad I learned early then." CenturyEgg!SWK, to his SlowBoiled counterpart: "Oh bummer, you got left with Stone Egg all the way back then? I started up the process willingly after I had to seal away DBK. When was the little guy born?" SlowBoiled!SWK: "Little lady actually. Yuebei was born about six months ago. Our MK was crafted by Nuwa - then again I did raise him the first year until I became too weak to care for him..." *looks sad* TMKATI and CenturyEgg monkeys: "Oh no..." :( "Stone eggs are super dangerous to the people around them. I don't blame you." JTTWEgg!SWK: "Odd. I got an Egg from the mountain too - but mine was born shortly after I completed the Journey. And mine was our MK. Did losing Mihou make the process longer??" OG Monkeys: "What?" "How many of you have MK as your kid!?" (*Cue them having to make a Venn Diagram of Whos' MK is What to Whom*) OG!SWK: "Ok so! Mine and the guy with the super-adorbs baby got our MKs dumped on us." SlowBoiled Monkeys: *proudly showing photos of their Yuebei* OG!LEM: "The me in sweatpants had him cus of a comet /slash/ stone egg soul mishap." TMKATI!LEM: "Oh, my Wukong was still responsible there. He sealed the Harbringer's soul inside me after using a sealing spell. TMKATI!SWK: "I panicked, ok!" OG!SWK, pointing at the remaining universes: "Annnd you two literally birthed him yourselves." CenturyEgg and JttwEgg SWKs: "Yup." "Stone shell and all." OG!SWK: "...is there anything else I'm missing?" The other universes: (*scratching their chins in thought*) SlowBoiled!LEM, slyly: "So are you guys back together yet, or what?" OG Monkeys: "What!?" "As if!"

Laughter just erupts around the room as the canon shadowpeach pairing realises that they're the odd ones out as *not* being together.

Complete and utter chaos reigns when the parent and MK groups reunite, and they recognise some sort of connection...

#wukongverse #my aus #lmk aus #jttw aus #shadowpeach #the monkey king and the infant au #the monkey king and the infant #slow boiled stone egg au #jttw stone egged au #century stone egg au #sun wukong #six eared macaque #liu er mihou #qi xiaotian #lmk mk

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dapandapod · 1 year ago

Text

Particular with nicknames

Why hello there! This was written last september (2023) and has since been sitting in my draft, making me rewatch streams because no pathetic reasons at all i swear. Anyway, here is Jaskier having a Moment TM when Geralt uses a very specific nickname. Thank you @ahh-fxck for helping me beta read <3 much appreciated! Please enjoy streamer!Geralt and Pathetic!Jaskier! <3 On Ao3 here

For all the love Jaskier has of words and language, he is strangely picky with nicknames.

It’s not that he dislikes them, he is just strangely neutral. Alright, that’s not true.

His famously ill-advised and stormy relationship with Valdo came to mind. Jaskier had fallen promptly out of love with him when he was called ‘Snugglebutt’ in front of all of their friends. They were together for another month or so past that, because Jaskier thought himself cruel and wanted it to work.

Well, it did not.

Nowadays he shares a flat with his long time best friend Geralt, one of the few constants in his life and the one who just might own about two thirds of his heart.

It’s not a big flat, but they have a room each, a small kitchen, and a shared living room. That is also where Geralt has his small streaming corner set up, back against the wall and facing the room.

Easier that way to keep it clean if he streams with the camera on, no accidental flashing unsuspecting viewers that way. Something learned by trial and error, as Jaskier tends to run warm and just forgo pants. And shirts. And socks.

They also share their flat with a terrible little cat named Roach, who has never quite warmed up to Jaskier. Took to Geralt the instant she saw him, however, and the two are inseparable whenever Geralt is home.

All of this in itself is not an issue. Oh no, all of this is more than fine.

Watching Geralt be sweet with the terrible little furball makes Jaskier’s heart ache pleasantly, listen to him coo about her fur being so shiny and smooth, what a good girl she is, wow look at that yawn!

No, the problem came up the first time as Geralt was lazily watching TV on the couch, back to their little kitchen where Jaskier had just served her royal highness some very expensive cat food.

Roach does as she always does when Jaskier is involved, and simply walks out. It’s routine by now, and the food is usually gone by morning. It’s more about Jaskier knowing his place at the bottom of the list than not liking the food.

But as she returns to the living room with Jaskier trailing after, considering plopping down on the couch too instead of working on his doctoral thesis, Jaskier finds himself fundamentally changed.

“Hi baby.” Geralt says, voice all sweet and dark and gravelly, and fuck.

It is very much aimed at Roach, who is being a cutie, begging pets from under the table. But Jaskier’s insides do a kickflip, his brain short circuits.

Flushing deeply, Jaskier can’t control the little HRK sound escaping his throat.

He is frozen in his tracks, tongue tied and feeling absolutely pathetic. Geralt turns around to look at him with a questioning frown.

“You ok there?” he asks, Roach climbing the couch and up to the backrest, demanding attention.

“Just peachy,” Jaskier squeaks out, and then flees to his room.

Holy fucking shit and mother of turds.

Baby?? Of all the nicknames in the entire world, that is the one Jaskier is going to have a meltdown about?

Just, the lazy way Geralt said it, Jaskier feels like an old maid, clutching his pearls.

It’s fine. He will be fine.

It was meant for Roach, of course, it’s fine.

It is not fine.

Geralt is streaming, talking with some other players. He is not a big name, but he does have a following, and sometimes gets invited to other streams if it's a multiplayer game.

Jaskier is moving around the living room, untangling the nest that their couch has become recently, blankets and hoodies and socks thrown everywhere. He is also holding a banana, somewhat forgotten in his new mission to make the couch sittable.

Part of his distraction comes from listening to Geralt talking, there is a lilt to his voice when he is on stream. It is unclear if Geralt is aware of doing it, but Jaskier can listen to it forever.

While in the process of moving one blanket over to the footrest, Geralt laughs at something said in his headphones.

“Oh baby, I didn’t know you cared!”

Jaskier drops the banana.

Feeling like a deer caught in headlight, Jaskier is unable to do anything but staring, feeling heat climbing his neck, up to his cheek.

Then Geralt’s eyes meet his over his screen, his face is neutral but his eyes are knowing.

Fuck fuck fuck he is in so much trouble.

Maybe it’s fine to have that many blankets. Perfect for hiding, perfect for pretending the way Geralt says ‘Baby’ doesn’t go on loop in his head, and will be for days.

Jaskier is in a constant state of fear.

Ever since the Stream Incident, as he has come to call it, there is this new tension whenever they are in a room together. Where Geralt will look at him consideringly, where Jaskier will pretend everything is as per usual.

He has gotten better at not freezing, but a thrill runs through him every time Geralt uses That Word, making very unsubtle eye contact as he does.

How is his poor heart to cope?

Sometimes, late at night, when Jaskier is unable to sleep and he knows Geralt is still streaming, Jaskier joins in to watch. It is uncertain if Geralt has figured out it’s him or not yet, he has sneakily named his account to Bardelicious, and doesn’t usually join the chat.

Tonight, Geralt is playing a fantasy game. A monster hunter and his bard, fittingly enough, and he makes light commentary about things in the game.

Until there is a scene where the bard does something noble, stupid and somewhat foolish.

“Oh, baby.” Geralt says sadly, shaking his head.

The chat goes absolutely wild, more than one asking him to say it again, to call them baby, which is a little weird and also absolutely fucking valid.

“Why are people so weird about that?” Geralt says, chuckling. The replies roll in, and his eyebrows climb up his forehead. Jaskier’s heart is beating hard, because this could either be really good or really bad.

“Sexy? Doubt that.”

Jaskier regrets it as soon as he presses send, and by then it’s too late.

‘It is when you say it.’ was all he wrote, but it was the first thing he had written in there. Geralt doesn’t know it’s him.

It should be fine. He is fine.

Some more responses follow, but Geralt is strangely quiet. The game scene plays out, the monster hunter and his bard having a nice bonding moment.

It’s soothing to watch, to hear Geralt’s commentary every now and then. He falls asleep with his phone in his hand, earbuds still in.

The next morning, Jaskier is woken up by the scent of coffee and a hungry Roach yowling in the kitchen. She only does that when Geralt is around, so it is safe to assume he is up.

Which is a little odd, because Jaskier fell asleep before the stream was over, and he feels like death warmed over.

His jaw cracks when he yawns. Lured by the scent of coffee, he manages to get out of bed.

Geralt is indeed up and about, Roach winding affectionately around his legs as he prepares her breakfast.

“Morn,” Jaskier rasps, scratching his stomach and giving another yawn.

Roach doesn’t even look at him, fully focused on her man and her meal. The bowl is placed on the floor for the queen herself, and like the gremlin she is, she eats it without a fuss. Little bastard.

Jaskier joins Geralt at the bench, seeking coffee like a flower seeks the sun. He can stop when he wants, coffee is not an addiction, it is a way of life.

“Were you up all night? Hand me a cup, will you?” he says, reaching for the fruit bowl that Geralt for some reason keeps religiously stocked.

In reply, he gets one of the typical hums, which could mean absolutely anything, and two cups. Jaskier pours for them both and Geralt adds the usual unholy amount of sugar to Jaskier’s, which makes him smile.

“Any plans for today? I really should be working on my thesis, but I can’t be arsed.”Jaskier leans back against the counter and sips at his coffee, which is still a little too hot.

Geralt is watching him over the rim of his mug, sipping on the steaming coffee.

“I have a thing I thought to try,” he says, voice gravelly, eyes locked on him.

It makes Jaskier’s stomach flip, and he takes a too big sip, the drink burning his tongue and all the way down his throat unpleasantly.

“Yeah? Anything you want help with?” Jaskier asks nervously, realizing he is still holding his chosen fruit without eating it, so he puts it down on the counter.

The corner of Geralt’s mouth ticks up into a crooked smile, and yeah, Jaskier is in danger. It is way too early in the morning for Geralt to be such an absolute heart throb.

“If you are willing.” Geralt says, and Jaskier finds himself nodding despite himself. If Geralt asks him if he is willing, the answer will probably always be yes.

“Sure! Uh… What is it?”

Geralt takes a step towards him and puts his cup on the side of the counter. Then he grabs Jaskier’s cup out of his hand and puts that down too.

His heart is beating so hard he can feel it in his throat, his hands now clammy and gripping the counter behind him.

Geralt inches forward, the space between them shrinking fast. He stops just shy of touching him, and tilts his head, white hair falling over his shoulder.

“So I was streaming last night,” Geralt begins, and oh dear, oh no. “And there were some interesting comments that I couldn’t get out of my head.”

“Uh… Oh?” Jaskier says dumbly, and Geralt huffs a soft laugh, breath hitting Jaskier’s face.

“You're particular with nicknames, right? I mean, you are still mad at Valdo.”

With growing worry, Jaskier is starting to realize where this is going.

“He called me snugglebutt. In front of people. That’s embarrassing!” Jaskier defends himself faintly. Geralt leans in an inch more, leaning against the countertop and crowding Jaskier against it. Fuck.

“But that’s not what you think when I say ‘Baby’, is it?” Geralt’s eyes are trained on him, and smiles when he notices Jaskier’s flustered little sound, the way heat climbs up his cheeks.

In a weak attempt to save face, Jaskier looks down, anywhere but meeting the intensity of Geralt’s gaze.

It has the unfortunate effect of noticing how close they are, how Geralt’s t-shirt rides down just enough to reveal collarbones, how his hands flex against the counter.

“Tell me if I’m reading this wrong, Jaskier,” Geralt mumbles, leaning close enough for his nose to drag against Jaskier’s cheekbone.

Jaskier pulls in a breath, tilting his head in a way he hopes is invitingly.

“You’re not.” Jaskier whispers, and is rewarded with Geralt putting a hand on his hip, letting his nose drag along Jaskier’s neck. “You really, really not.”

“Is it the nickname? You look so startled whenever you hear me say it.” Geralt asks, one finger finding skin under the hem of Jaskier’s t-shirt.

“Just you. Pretty sure you could call me snugglebutt and I’d thank you.” Jaskier confesses, blurts really, when the rest of Geralt’s hand sneaks under his shirt to find his lower back, playing with the soft hairs there.

“Good to know,” Geralt smiles against his skin and Jaskier braves turning his head, their cheeks brushing together.

“Are you going to kiss me anytime soon, or are you gonna let me keep suffering?” Jaskier breathes, his hands finding Geralt’s and tracing them up his arms slowly.

“Hmm,” Geralt says, considering with a cheeky grin, the absolute bastard, so Jaskier takes matters into his own hands. Quite literally.

Geralt’s face is warm, rough stubble and barely visible scars and imperfections brush against his fingers. Geralt must have turned into it, because their lips slide together, coffee and morning breath mingling as Jaskier finds himself now properly pressed against the bench and Geralt’s body.

Then he is being kissed harder, deeper, and Geralt hoists Jaskier up on the counter, using Jaskier’s thighs to pull him closer, closer still, and presses open mouthed kisses against his neck. With a gasp, Jaskier scrambles to find a grip, to get some control of himself, but it is very, very hard to focus.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me, baby?” Geralt murmurs against his skin, and Jaskier full body shivers. “I can feel you watching me, you are even in my streams.”

“You knew about that?” Jaskier asks breathlessly, stealing a kiss when Geralt shifts to look at him.

“If you wanted to be discreet, maybe you should have chosen something else than ‘Bardelicious’.” Geralt smiles, and Jaskier pouts and pinches his side in revenge.

“Why didn’t you say anything then?”

“Why didn’t you?” Geralt counters, and well, this won’t go anywhere.

“I like listening to you. I like listening to your voice as I go to sleep,” Jaskier says quietly, and Geralt hides his face in the crook of Jaskier's neck.

“Did you get any sleep at all last night?” Jaskier asks when Geralt stays there, melting into his body.

He doesn’t get anything but a muttering grumble in reply, and Jaskier smiles and strokes his hair.

“I need to find a nickname for you too. I refuse to be the only one being absolutely useless as soon as you open your mouth.” Jaskier murmurs into Geralt’s hair.

“Gmmrmgmg.”

“What’s that?”

“I said, ‘like it when you say my name.” Geralt says, and Jaskier is melting all over again.

“Well then, Geralt,” Jaskier purrs. “Let me finish my coffee, and then we’ll take a nap.”

Reaching for coffee without really letting go turns out to be hard, and when Jaskier with some struggle finally gets a hold of his cup, the coffee is still unreasonably hot.

They nap in Jaskier’s bed, both of them crawling in under the blankets and curling up together. Jaskier’s chin resting on top of Geralt’s head, Geralt’s arm slung over Jaskier’s chest.

When Geralt wakes up and press Jaskier into the mattress, it doesn’t take long for Geralt to discover exactly how to fluster Jaskier enough to splutter broken syllables.

It’s alright.

When Jaskier has recovered from being melted goo, he will return the favor.

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #geralt x jaskier #jaskier the bard #modern au #gamer!geralt #dapanda writes #getting together #napping #pining #well something anyway #the draft name of this fic 'baby HRK' because yes that is the sound both author and bard made

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mins-fins · 1 year ago

Text

there's nothing left for you.

&&. being in love shouldn't hurt this much, being in love with your best friend shouldn't hurt this much.

pairing: mark lee x m!reader

genre: ANGST

warnings: mentions of vomit, your good old hanahaki disease, reader is having just the worse time

word count: 0.9k

notes: CLEARING OUT MY DREAM DRAFTS 😆! so um this is less of a mark lee x reader and more or "isa ABSOLUTELY destroys reader and makes them so sad for a good 900 words", i'm not sure how this ended up so sad or how renjun ended up appearing but um yeah.. im so sorry for this ppl (especially you user @junjiie)

you try your best not to make it obvious.

because the idea of anyone noticing is enough to make your skin crawl.

you feel uncomfortable in the moment, you want so greatly to just rip off your skin. you feel like an imposter, like your putting on a facade, as if your a fake, a bad friend, a fraud. your so angry at yourself, why couldn't you just hold on a little longer? why were you so pathetic?

you hate that you made people worry, all because of something so little, you almost wish mark didn't find you, no matter how much worse your situation could've been, you almost wish he'd left you passed out on the bathroom floor, maybe then you wouldn't be such a burden to everyone.

you feel as if he's angry with you, and mark never gets angry at you, so that just makes your situation even worse, because you know how angry he is with you.

you didn't mean to keep it from him for so long, you didn't mean to hide that you were hurt, you just didn't want to worry him.

you consider it's too late for that now.

when mark sits beside you, you almost flinch, but you somehow keep it all together. at this point, you don't know how you've managed to not burst into tears, your life is just so not amazing and you still haven't cried about it! wow you must be tough!

"do you feel okay? you don't have a fever do you?" he asks, feeling your forehead. you curse him for caring about you, because really, what did you do to deserve it? you feel selfish, you feel so undeserving of mark's love and care.

how stupid are you, really?

"i'm fine" you mutter.

your not. how were you even sure that would work?

well— you weren't.

you really do hate yourself at the moment, and marks look of sympathy just makes it all worse.

but what even happened? what did you do that was so bad that your now in this situation?

you fell in love with your best friend.

your best friend who, clearly, through several actions, has shown that he doesn't love you back. he doesn't even have to tell you for you to know that he doesn't reciprocate your feelings.

and you hate yourself for falling in love with mark lee, you want to punch yourself in the face every time you find yourself staring longingly at him.

it's stupid, your stupid.

you tried your best to act like you weren't hurting, like everything was okay. your not sure you did a good job, because once in a while, one of your friends would glance over at you with concerned eyes.

you don't know why you continued to keep up this facade, maybe your just bad at talking about your feelings with people. whenever your friends tried to bring it up, you'd brush it off, saying the same words;

"oh i'm fine".

"i'm fine don't worry about it".

"no need to worry about me, i'm fine".

but you weren't fine, of course you weren't.

and it would only just worse and worse.

maybe you should've known when you started puking those flowers, when you couldn't look at mark without feeling like you would burst into tears, when you'd constantly run away from any interactions because you just couldn't do it.

you don't know why this is happening to you, you feel as if your suffering for no reason. is this really what you deserve for loving your best friend? for having a crush?

you feel like life just decided to rip your heart out and stomp on it.

"y/n! are you okay?"

you sat on the bathroom floor, your back against the door. you felt disgusting, like you'd just committed one of the worst crimes in the world.

and oh renjun, sweet renjun, always asking if your okay, always making sure that your okay. you hate that your lying to him, and you hate that your lying to mark too. "i'm okay!" you yell back, somehow able to sound just great, even with how much your throat hurts.

and somehow, this is all happening because you fell in love with your best friend.

your not even sure if you can face mark without tearing up, you feel horrible, and you have no idea why you decided to lie about being fine.

you have no idea why you decide to make most of the choices you've made in the past few days.

"i don't like it when you lie to me" mark says, snapping you out of whatever zoned out trance you were having. "your not fine, y/n, and you probably haven't been for weeks, i care about you, and you have so many other people who do too".

you close your eyes, knowing you might cry any time soon. "i didn't mean to.." you say, feeling yourself begin getting overwhelmed, you feel anxious, and you hate it. "i just— didn't want to worry everyone".

that was a half–truth, it wasn't necessarily a lie, you hated worrying everyone, but that wasn't the reason you lied about not being fine.

for once, you actually look over at mark, and you hate it. you hate that you immediately notice his pretty eyes, you hate that you love the features on his face, you hate that you don't want to look away from his eyes.

you hate that after all this, your still in love with mark lee.

#mark lee #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct u #mark nct #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct scenarios #mark lee imagines #mark lee drabbles #mark lee scenarios #mark lee x reader #nct x reader #mark lee x male reader #𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 isa's works!

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outtherecreations · 2 years ago

Note

Heyysyehehekssidj ok so I was obsessed with your Yakko fics and then I saw you accept requests for Bender from futurama!

So I was wondering if I could request a Bender x Reader where she’s a robot but she looks like a human and bender has feelings for her but doesn’t want to seem robosexual. Then planet express go to deliver something and she gets injured and people freak out and she’s just like I’m fine? And bender worries so much he confesses

Sorry for rambling I’ll go now

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts forever (oops). Well, since the new season is out, might as well post this now.

To Love a Human (that’s really a robot):

A high pitched roar could be heard from a box in Fry’s lap. Bender, Fry, and I stare at the box with wide eyes “So…what are we delivering again?” I ask nervously. “We’re not allowed to ask questions.” Leela sighs “Does it have to be in my lap?” Fry asks “That is a question. What did I just say?” Leela asks “But that’s a question!” Fry huffs.

“…Well, I’m captain. I can do what I want.” Leela says with a shrug. I giggle quietly, turning my attention to Fry “Sorry, but you were the last one on the ship. And the last one’s gotta be the one that’s in the most danger.” I state, Fry only sulks in his seat before the box rattles and shakes. Fry frowns nervously and grumbles to himself, I scoot away from him and a little closer to Bender.

I accidentally brush my elbow against him, “Watch it, Meatbag.” Bender says, glaring at me a little. I smile faintly and back off a little “Heh, sorry Bendy.” I snort, Bender looks away with his arms crossed. It’s always funny how he calls me Meatbag. The ship becomes quiet, the only sounds were the high pitched roars from the box. We yelp when the ship comes to an abrupt stop, “Leela! Ease up on the brakes, you’re just making it angrier.” Fry whispers.

The box shakes harshly and growls erupted from it, Bender and I move away from Fry. “Sorry, but it is too quiet in this ship. It’s distracting.” Leela sighs, the ship starts to move again “Wait, aren’t you always saying how us being to loud is distracting?” I ask, “Knock it off with the questions.” Leela huffs. I laugh a little, “I hope we’re almost there, Fry looks like he’s about to pee his pants.” I state, hoping to get a better response.

“We should be there in…3 hours.” Leela announces. Fry whimpers while Bender and I groan “Boo…” I sigh, Bender pulls out a beer and starts to chug it down. I look at him, he glances at me “Want one?” He asks “I want one.” Fry says “Shut it, you.” Bender says firmly. “Yeah, I’ll take beer. It’s been too long since I’ve had one anyway.” I state. Bender tosses me a beer and we both drink in sync. And funnily enough, burp in sync.

~Small Time Skip~

Fry lets out another nervous sigh, that’s all he had been doing that the past hour. “Lee, please tell me we’re almost there!” I groan. She hums, looking down at the map “Mm…it should be…” Leela gasps and quickly slams on the brakes. My eyes widen when the box goes flying out of Fry’s lap “Oh crap.” Bender says with wide eyes. The box opens, revealing a small white creature with pink eyes, “That’s what was making all that noise?” Leela gasps.

She stares at it in awe, “Wow…that doesn’t look scary at all. Fry was whining for nothing!” Bender groans “Looks can be deceiving.” I hum, elbowing Bender playfully. Leela slowly reaches for the creature “How can something so cute be so dangerous?” She coos.

The creature growls at her, sparking and glowing. “Whoa! I don’t think you should touch it Leela, he looks dangerous.” Fry says, frowning nervously. “How do you know it’s a he? It could be a she for all we know. Don’t assume pronouns, Fry.” I say with playful seriousness “Yeah!” Bender shouts, slapping Fry. “Owwww.” Fry whines.

I laugh, earning a grin from Bender. Fry rubs his cheek and rolls his eyes. “You two need to get a room.” I just giggle more while Bender starts to panic “What are you trying to say? Let me tell you, I like my women with a metal p-” “Alright! You don’t need to go into detail.” Fry says quickly. The creature continues to hiss at Leela. It’s eye twitches as it lets out a high pitched growl, “Um, Lee, I think French Fry is right…” I warn.

Fry, Bender, and I all watch carefully as Leela reaches towards the creature “I don’t know what you guys are freaking out about. This little creature is probably scared. Y/N, you’d be growling too if you were trapped in a box.” Leela says “Thank you for bringing up my claustrophobia…” I laugh weakly with a nervous grin. The creature’s growls only worsen the closer Leela’s hand gets.

Leela gently strokes the creature’s ear, it purrs for a moment. “See, look at that. It’s harmless.” She coos, she wraps her hands around the creature to pick it up-and it bite her. “Ow!” She yelps, dropping the creature. It yelps and growls, sparks start to surround it. “Oh crap.” Bender sighs, he and Fry back away slowly.

The sparks worsen, effecting the lights of the ship. “Um, maybe we should put it back in its box.” I suggest “I say with throw it out the wind-OW!” Fry yelps when the creature shocks him. Leela looks at the creature with a nervous pout as she back away too. “Ok…anyone want to get it back in its box?” She asks, we all share silent glances. “I nominate Bender.” Leela states seriously “WHAT?!” Bender shouts

“You’re a robot, the sparks won’t hurt you…that much.” Leela states, Bender crosses his arms “Why should I risk my shiny, metal *ss for your fleshy, squishy-” “I’ll do it.” I say, picking up the box. “Wait-Y/N, you can’t just-” “Too late I’m doing it.” I say confidently. Everyone shares a concern look, Leela and Fry back away a little “Be careful, Y/N. You don’t want to hurt it.” Leela whispers.

Bender scoffs at her, “I say hurt it before it hurts us. Don’t be stupid, Y/N, it’d really suck if you died. If you die, I’m killing the other two.” He states nonchalantly, Leela glares at him and Fry frowns nervously, everyone watches me-the whole ship was quiet. I lunge towards the creature, trapping it in the box. Fry and Bender cheer, the box starts to glow. I stare at the box with wide eyes. We go quiet again, Leela frowns nervously “Y/N, you might wanna-”

I shield my face from the bright explosion.

S Y S T E M S H U T T I N G D O W N…

R E B O O T I N G…

P O W E R I N G UP…

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

S Y S T E M B A C K O N L I N E.

My eyes open, I look around the room. I lay on the floor, “I can’t believe it. She’s dead!” Fry says “That wasn’t my fault…it wasn’t!” Leela snaps with a panicked tone, Fry flinches “No one said it was your fault…” He says, trying to calm her “Well…I’m just making sure everyone knows it…” Leela sighs, looking down sadly. The creature is box in its box, and this time, it's taped shut.

Where’s-

Bender hovers over my body, his eyes were shut. “Look here, Y/N, I know I’ve never said it but you’re my favorite of all the Meatbags on this stinking crew. If things were different I would’ve definitely…” Bender sighs “Um, Bendy?” I mumble. “Great! Now that regret is gonna haunt me forever! I’m already hearing her ghostly voice! It’s still so sweet and innocent! That’s it, now I’m really killing the other two!” Bender shouts, backing away from me.

I sit up, “Guys.” I say. Bender tenses and slowly turns to me, he lets out some unintelligible noises before falling on his butt “You’re alive?” Leela asks in shock “Um, yeah…why wouldn’t I be?” I ask. “You were electrocuted then your eyes went black.” Leela says nervously “Are you a zombie now? If you are, you should think about going vegan.” Fry says, hiding behind Leela.

“Oh, I’m not a zombie. I didn’t die, I just short circuited.” I tell them. It’s quiet for a moment, “What?” I ask, breaking the silence “Short circuited?” Leela repeats. “Yeah.” I say, everyone just stares in shock “I am a robot after all. It’s not really that surprising.” I snort “Oh yeah it is!” Fry shouts. “If your a robot, why do you look so…fleshy?” Leela asks.

I look at my hand, pinching the fake skin, “I was a prototype for a new generation of humanoid robots Mom was working on, but she got super frustrated with one of her sons and set all her progress on fire. I was luckily able to get out before dying a fiery death.” I tell everyone, there's a pause. “Oh, that makes sense…” Leela says, staring at me blankly.

“So, you’re not going to eat us?” Fry asks carefully, “Ew, no. Humans taste disgusting, trust me, I know.” I snort “What?” Fry asks, blinking at my statement. Bender quickly stands up, “You-you-you mean all this time…-I thought you were a Meatbag like the rest of them!” Bender says, grabbing my shoulder and shaking me. “Well I’m not, Bendy.” I chuckle, Bender lets go of my shoulders.

Bender stares at me with wide eyes, “You mean I’m not a robose-” Bender pauses “A what?” I ask in confusion. Bender lets out a frustrated sound, "Go out with me!" He says firmly, I look at him in surprise before giggling "Yeah, ok." I say, Bender looks slightly taken aback. "Ok...good. Come on." He says, hooking his arm with mine and walking toward the exit of the ship, "Where are you two going? We haven't finished our delivery!" Leela calls "I'm not doing anything until I know what Y/N's shiny, metal *ss looks like!" Bender shouts, he pick me up and jumps out the ship.

#reader insert #x reader #futurama #bender #leela futurama #bender futurama #fry futurama #bender x reader #request #i’m tired #i worked hard on this #Phillip fry #this took too long #futurama bender x reader

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inuhodo · 2 months ago

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i am too busy playing videogames to finish this drawing but for now

WOW THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR SO LONG

#i am Burning #dan shepard #im not gonna main tag this since hhe well #nsft #tasteful sideboob however

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sorcerersseestars · 2 years ago

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his eyes, your ears [part iv]

series masterlist

Gojo Satoru x reader

summary: There was a time when you called him best friend, but those days escaped you long ago. There’s no way he’s alive – right? With the depth of his betrayal still lingering in your heart and mind, what would his reappearance spell for your life?

pairing: gojo satoru x gn! reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort

fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

warnings: cursing, lowkey a little mental torture, TW! s*xual a*sault (forced kiss), violence!!, one instance of vomiting (sry), immoral and creepy Geto, reader is kinda anxious nonstop (like writer like reader?), some details are non-canon (a/n 2.0 at end explains), also it’s slow for the first half but picks up I promise, I think I made Geto sound British???, also I made Hanami act like a mom kinda 💀 uh…im going to call it comic relief?

word count: 6.7k. oof.

a/n: I am literally SO SORRY that this has been sitting in my drafts for so long but… life happens! Along those lines – I wrote 1/2 of this in September and 1/2 of it in May, so it might be a bit disjointed sorryyy hehe

“I didn’t ask for this.”

“Then you’ll have to live with disappointment,” He flashes you an all-too-pleased-with-himself smile. “Becaaause it’s totally permanently in your phone now.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, right. As if I wouldn’t be able to delete a contact.”

He has a devilish smirk on his face, but his voice is annoyingly innocent and cheerful. “Go ahead, try!”

You gasp. “Gojo! Did you jailbreak my new phone?!”

“Uh, uh! That not what my contact reads as!” He snatches your phone from your hands, and points a large finger to the tiny name on your screen. “It’s ‘My Beloved Best Friend Satoru’!”

“Satoru,” You say dangerously. “Erase this or I’ll erase you from existence.”

He chuckles. “Oh, I’d love to see you try. You’re cute when you try to beat me.”

Your mouth opens and closes as you try to find words, and you try to ignore the heat on your cheeks. “S-Satoru! You asshole, give me my phone back!”

He holds it high above your head, a wide smile lingering on his face. He’s having way too much fun with this. You jump, trying to swat it out of his hand, but to no avail.

“Why did you even do this?” You grumble, sighing. “What, is it ‘how many ways can I torture (Y/N) in the span of a few hours’ day?”

He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re weak, remember? You gotta have me on speed dial if you want to survive in this line of work.”

First, your eyes widen at his blunt statement. Then you sigh again, this time a bit sadly. “Wow, you have so much faith in me…thanks.”

“You never know what’s out there,” Gojo says. “If you ever have any trouble, call me.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “Is this a prank? I thought you hated ‘helping the weak’.”

“I’m serious, (Y/N),” He says firmly. “I’ll always pick up. Abuse the privilege, whatever, I don’t care. Just don’t die.”

Your head snaps towards him, mouth hanging open with shock. “Satoru, what…? I’m not going to…”

You fall silent. There’s no guarantee of that.

He steps closer to you, closer than what you’d consider friendly. Your heart skips a beat.

“Just do it, okay? I’ll always be on the other end.”

Always, huh? But now…

Ring, ring, ring. You bite your lip, pressing your phone hard against your ear, as if his voice will appear if you wish it enough. Ring, ring, ring.

“Please…” You whisper. “Come on, come on.”

Your breath hitches as the distinctive timbre of Satoru’s voice fills your ear, but your shoulders fall almost immediately.

“Hey, sorry I’ve missed your call! If you close your eyes, recite my name five times, and spin around twice, I might get back to ya! No exceptions – not even–”

You sigh and hang up before you’re put through to voice mail. It’s not like he’ll listen to it, anyway.

He’s been avoiding you. You haven’t seen him for days – six, to be exact. It’s been five days since Shoko deemed you well enough to recover at home, despite the worryingly slow rate that your cursed energy has been returning. You were released with the promise you wouldn’t exert yourself and absolutely would not use any cursed energy. All the while, you had childishly held two crossed fingers behind your back – your promise was as empty as you felt.

You should have expected this; this shouldn’t hurt so much. Gojo is the strongest sorcerer the world has seen for hundreds of years. He never runs from his foes – he doesn’t need to. When it comes to facing emotions, however, he is all but mighty. Whenever his emotions run high, overflowing until they begin to leak out into broad daylight, he turns tail and practically erases himself from existence. It’s nearly impossible to find him – he mysteriously leaves no trace, even for an experienced tracker like you.

You left Shoko with an empty smile and promise, and Gojo has done just the same. Despite him swearing that he’d be back to see you, Gojo is nowhere to be found. You’ve dropped by at the school multiple times, even asking his students if they knew of his whereabouts, but nobody has been able to give you an answer.

He’s been dodging your calls, letting it ring until his chirpy voicemail message mocks you. The text messages you leave go unread, unopened.

When you hopelessly reopen your chat with him, you can’t help but bite yoru nails as you stare at the wall of blue on your screen. Message after message – unfinished thoughts, apologies, words full of urgency and desperation – are left by trembling hands bloodied by your own worry.

‘I’m the strongest,’ He always says, so why does fear spike in your veins at the thought of Geto finding him?

Even though his own arrogant words ring through your head, you can’t quell the anxiety that threatens to wreak havoc over your fragile state. You’re worried, so worried, and it bleeds into the rest of your life: you’re all over the place, constantly forgetting appointments and important items, you are inexplicably tense, your breathing is constantly shallow and quick; you’re barely holding yourself together.

A few days ago, you had your meeting with Yaga, alone, which went just as horribly as you could have imagined, but you were thankfully spared contact with the higher-ups due to your condition.

But you’re almost all better now – at least physically. That’s why you’re back again, ready for another round of manipulation and abuse.

You’re out of it, so out of it. Your eyes are glazed over, and nothing they say registers in your mind. Even when you try to focus on the words leaving their mouths, your brain filters it all back into mindless noise.

There’s a sequence of very familiar syllables: ah, your name is being shouted. You look up with empty eyes, blinking slowly.

“Useless sorcerer, answer me, now!” Gakuganji roars. “You are testing our patience, and I’ve just about run out of it. Can you track him, or not?”

You breathe in shakily, and let out a weak, clueless, “What?”

“Track him, or they’re dead,” He spits. “Track Geto Suguru. Find him. We won’t wait long. If you haven’t reported back in a week, your parents won’t be able to enjoy their retirement any longer.”

Some of the other council members shift uncomfortably at his bluntness, but you barely even flinch.

You’re so tired of it all. You almost wish you had encouraged Gojo to just off them once and for all.

“Okay,” You mumble softly, lacking the energy to project your voice. “I can do it. I will track Geto Suguru.”

You drag yourself out without acknowledging them, without any show of respect, but the thought of caring is lost on you. Your apathy leaves a trail of displeased whispers, but you don’t even notice.

You speed-dial his number again and again and again, and are returned with nothing but the taunt of his cheerfully recorded memo.

When you finally look away from his contact info burning your retinas, your gaze is trained on the clear sky. It shouldn’t be so vivid, shouldn’t be so beautiful – today should be overcast and rainy. You can’t help but frown, but your eyes remain on the heavens.

Then you’re granted a sight that usually coaxes a smile out of you no matter how you feel: a particularly large gust of wind lays out a collection of reddening autumn leaves against the azure sky. They swirl and dance in the breeze, hovering in your field of vision for a few more moments before they are whipped away.

It’s a sign of the changing of seasons – it has always been one of your favorite times of the year, especially during your years at Tokyo Jujutsu High. The rapid approach of the holidays and the time spent training with your classmates in the chilly air has always enlivened you.

Today, this sight drives fat tears to roll down your cheeks. It just serves to remind you of the juxtaposition between those blissful times and these turbulent times: the weight of Geto’s betrayal, his subsequent death, his impossible revival.

You turn your head to the side, eyes tracking the leaves as they dance into the distance.

“So I’m really doing this then,” You whisper to yourself. “Yeah, guess I am. You’re not here to stop me…”

They’re far from Tokyo, much further than they were before. That much is obvious from the start, when you first scour for their residuals. After a disappointing first try by Jujutsu High - you shouldn’t expected much, anyway - you decide to return to their last known location: the forest you nearly were obliterated in. You dread returning there, but you have little choice unless you want to do a whole lot of guesswork.

You drive yourself there. Usually, you would be accompanied by your usual driver Ijichi, but the thought of asking him didn’t even cross your mind. In the eyes of the Jujutsu world, this is a suicide mission. You’re well aware of that: so why involve anyway else unnecessarily, risking innocent lives?

You’re grateful for the calming scenery that blurs by: miles and miles of inhabited land, solely occupied by woodland’s creatures. Hardly any curses are present in the countryside, as there are no humans to feed off of. Those special grades you faced were certainly the exception.

You pull over to the edge of the forest once you sense a steady stream of cursed energy. The residual energy is at least a week old - just around the time of your unfortunate encounter with them. You close your eyes and carefully sift through all of the cursed energy signatures left behind, immediately identifying Hanami’s and Jogo’s faint residuals. There’s one stronger energy, and very familiar: Satoru’s cursed energy.

His cursed energy is so easy to pick out, no matter where you are. It’s so bright and lively, practically humming under your fingers every time you sense it, almost as if it were your own.

But there’s a shadow – his energy shadows another. You concentrate, sensing an underlying current of a more recent energy. Your eyes fly open, startled by your discovery. It is much fresher than the others: the residuals are only a few days old.

Its signature is both unknown and yet alarmingly familiar. It’s dark, so dark. Its energy chokes you, holds you hostage with the way it starts to stick to you and steal your courage with its oppressiveness. You’ve never felt an energy quite like this, yet it feels all too familiar.

You begin to shake, the reality sinking in. “Geto…. Just what have you become?”

You shakily clamber back into the driver’s seat, firmly gripping the steering wheel with sweaty hands. Geto was here. Geto knows that you and Satoru were in the same vicinity as Jogo and Hanami. There’s absolutely no way he doesn’t know — you carelessly hadn’t wiped your residuals or even tried to cover your tracks.

You step on the gas. You keep your cursed energy flowing as you speed down the road, revealing a murky trail of residuals to follow. His cursed energy is so distinctly foul that you can pick it out from the rest with little effort. It’s overwhelming and makes you nauseous. Cursed with a twist of familiarity – a sickening combination.

Your mind begins to race. Is this how Gojo felt back then? No, it must have been so much worse, tracking one of your soulmates down with the intent to…to kill. And now you’re being forced to track him down again, just so the higher-ups can order Gojo to repeat history, just so your best friends will be forced to fight until one is–

You jerk the steering wheel over, making for a rough pull-over job. You throw yourself out of the car as quickly as possible before retching your stomach’s contents out onto the dark pavement.

The old wounds in your heart flare up; you clutch your chest desperately.

You are not strong enough to protect your parents - but are you strong enough to survive the alternative, the reality you and Gojo can’t help but deny?

“I have to,” You whisper to yourself. “I have to do this. I have no power in this world, I’m not the strongest…so this is all I can do.”

And so you are off again, this time unwavering from the course you’re set on.

By the time you reach Kyoto, an untimely five hours of panicked driving later, their residuals are so apparent that you hardly have to try. It’s almost as if they’re luring you in, the most sensitive tracker known in the Jujutsu world; why else would they leave behind such obvious traces of their cursed energy?

You ignore your instincts that scream for you to turn back, and instead continue into the outskirts of the most outer part of the residential areas – the residuals lead you far from the city itself.

As you venture further into the countryside, your stomach begins to clench. The residuals are much stronger now, but not alarmingly so. They should still be miles and miles out, perhaps 40 or 50 – there should be enough distance to not alert them of your presence. However, as a precaution, you stretch your hearing beyond the range of any normal human. You still feel unsettled, even with the extra layer of protection.

This is dumb. This is a terrible idea. Yet, you keep your foot firmly on the gas pedal.

You are suddenly flooded with an overwhelming wave of noise. Your brain barely has a second to process what your ears pick up: the roar of an object hurtling towards your car. You swerve to the roadside, and you’re barely fast enough: the driver’s side door is nearly scraped off, and it begins to smolder.

It shouldn’t be possible. They shouldn’t be here. Not again.

Running on pure adrenaline, you rip your seatbelt off and throw yourself to the passenger’s side door, seeking an escape from the next impending strike. Your hearing is more sensitive from your frenzied state, and you hear the next meteor much earlier this time. You rely on your hearing, on your hearing only: it will tell you where to dodge.

You climb out of the car, wheezing on smoke and fumes, and take off running. You gasp at the sound of the next meteor closing in on you and quickly dive away, throwing yourself to the ground and covering your head with your hands. The explosion is so intense that even after reducing your hearing, you feel the shock reverberate through your body and overpower any other sensation you feel.

After the ringing in your ears lets up for a moment, you finally feel the aftermath of the blast: shards of heated rock are embedded in your side, scorching your skin. There’s no time to even think about it: you’re up and running away from the voices that soon enter your hearing.

“You imbecile! Do you always have to do the opposite of what you’ve been ordered?” The grating tones of Hanami enter your ears as he hisses at Jogo. “He said captured alive! Or would you rather face his wrath?”

Captured? So they had been expecting your arrival; it was a trap all along.

“Relax, I haven’t even made a scratch yet!” Jogo shouts back.

“You’re embarrassing yourself in many ways,” Hanami scoffs. “If your intention was to kill, I will begin to further doubt your abilities. I already had to rescue you from that sorcerer, or has your pea-brain already forgotten that failure after it fell off of your body?”

“Shut up already,” Jogo growls. “I got it, okay?”

You truly don’t know what to do. Your last encounter made it very clear that you are solely a tracker with limited offensive ability. Hell, you didn’t even try last time because you knew it be to utterly pointless – the result would turn out no better if you tried now. Two special grades against a Grade 1 sorcerer with Grade 2 offensive abilities? You don’t stand a chance in that regard.

They’re in too close of proximity to disguise your presence – cutting off your cursed energy would be pointless. There’s only one other trick up your sleeve to increase your chances of surviving if they do decide to attack again.

You feel their cursed energies so much more clearly – when you steal a glance behind yourself, you can faintly see them in the distance. Not good.

Jogo suddenly barks out a laugh. “Boss never said we couldn’t rough anybody up though, did he? Got you there, dumbass! Don’t try to stop me!”

Really not good.

There’s a sudden spike in cursed energy – and that energy is heading straight for you. You try to dodge, but your reaction is too late. You feel the heat even before the impact, and you decide you definitely need to utilize your other ability. It’s not perfect, nor is it a full-fledged technique yet, but you have little choice but to use it now.

You concentrate all your energy into the side that will take the hit, and imagine an impenetrable wall. You think of Gojo’s Infinity: the space that can never crossed, no matter how much force is exerted. You don’t have the ability to manipulate space like Gojo, but your shield imitates his impenetrability.

Jogo’s fiery body slams into your side. Your breath is instantly knocked out of you, and the searing pain returns. Your shield absorbs the brunt of the strike, but you’re still knocked back at least thirty feet. You tumble into the undergrowth, your back squarely hitting a tree in your path.

You can’t stop the howl that escapes your lungs, and the ragged breathing that follows.

“They tried to stop it! It wasn’t even a fraction of my power and they couldn’t stop it! And you’re telling me that Gojo Satoru is interested in them?” Jogo howls in laughter. “How pathetic!”

At your next blink, Jogo has materialized in front of you. You weakly stagger to the side, wanting to get away but knowing you can’t deep down. They’re just toying with you – if they decided to get rid of you, they’d be able to almost instantly.

Jogo shouts loudly, “So weak it makes me sick! You can only run away, huh? Boss is right – creatures like you are disgusting.”

He rushes forward again, and you rush to encase yourself in your imperfect shield. To your surprise, you are not struck down: instead, you’re…in his arms??

“Hanami! Since you won’t let me have anymore fun, I guess we should go back,” Jogo yells across the clearing to the other Special Grade.

A burst of petals flies past your eyes; Hanami emerges from a newly-grown patch of flowers. They don’t say anything, but they approach Jogo and stand right over his shoulder. Jogo eyes Hanami suspiciously.

“Why are you hovering over me?” Jogo grumbles. “Stay away, tree hugger.”

“It’s almost as if he knew you were going to pull this,” Hanami huffs. “There’s a reason I’ve been keeping an eye on you.”

“They’re alive, that was the only request. Did Boss put you up to that ‘good guy’ act, huh? Agh, such arrogant scum! Thinks he can tell me what to do?”

Despite your shield, Jogo’s heat begins to affect you. You cough violently, and when you glance at your hands you see rivulets of red.

“Yes, I think that’s accurate, considering you call him ‘Boss’. Now, hand them over before they go up in flames.”

Jogo grunts unhappily, but complies. You’re transferred to the rough bark limbs of the tree cursed spirit. Hanami sighs at the sight of your angry red burns, eyeing Jogo, “Such a barbaric curse…destructive to all life and environment.”

“HAH! You-!” Jogo guffaws. “I’ve see you uproot your own forests! Environmentally friendly my ass! Shut your trap.”

You wince from his loudness.

“So obnoxious, isn’t he? Well, you’re the lucky one here - you get to take a nap,” Hanami says. “Rest well before your…‘meeting’.”

Your pulse quickens at the expression on the curse’s face: a demented sort of excitement. There’s a sweet floral smell that falls over you, and then you begin to grow sleepy. Your eyelids start to flutter as you try to fight it – but you are eventually pulled deep into a dreamless sleep.

You are roused from your sleep by the touch of another. A hand on your forehead – a comforting presence. It’s warm, and familiar. You’re about to smile widely and look deep into his crystal eyes, but when your bleary eyes begin to focus, your heart stops.

There’s an easy, gentle smile on his face. His dark eyes shine brightly, but your own can’t help but drift to the obvious surgical scar running across his entire forehead.

Your reflexes kick in: you smack his hand away, rejecting the unwanted touch, and fall into a defensive stance. He lets out a hum of amusement, but otherwise does not react.

“My old friend,” Geto Suguru coos. “How wonderful it is to see you again. Never thought I’d be able to – what a gift your presence is, my dear.”

It’s then that you realize that you’re shaking; your chattering teeth render you unable to let any words out.

“Did Jogo and Hanami rough you up again? How rude of them,” He sighs. “But don’t be scared, it’s just your old friend Suguru.”

He stops to let his eyes roam over your hunched form. A sickening smirk spreads across his face – sickening because it’s just like the sweet smiles he used to give you.

“You know, you really are the best tracker around. I have to say, I’m quite impressed. Too bad I know all your little tricks, though. Did you like the surprise I set up especially for you?” He smirks. “It’s hard to catch such a talented tracker as you off guard, but I think I managed quite well. You didn’t detect a thing, did you? They were supposed to be much further away, I know…it’s fascinating, isn’t it, the feats you can achieve through sorcery?”

You only stare at him in horror.

“No? Well, I know at least Jogo enjoyed it,” He says with a soft laugh, but his next words cause icy chills to run down your spine. “But I think I enjoyed it the most. The look on your face…was perfect.”

Your stomach turns at his words. His gaze is even worse: there’s a hungry, disturbing glint to them. Your eyes flit from his sharp onyx eyes to his traditional wear: his inky yukata and gilded kasaya are elegant and beautiful, but emanate darkness.

“Forgot what I looked like? It has been a while, hasn’t it?” Geto smiles. His smile is soft and almost sweet, but out of place; its familiarity makes your stomach churn.

“You shouldn’t be here,” You finally speak, voice quiet and cracking. “You shouldn’t exist.”

“That’s a bit harsh, doll. I’m not the only one who doesn’t belong in this world,” He says, lip curled in disgust. “Monkeys roam the earth. That’s more of a disgrace than my existence…I hope you’d agree.”

You only manage to gasp out, “How are you even here?”

His eyes meet yours, crinkling in a dark sort of amusement. “You’d love to know, wouldn’t you? There’s a price to pay for that knowledge, doll.”

“You’d…Geto would never hurt me,” You whimper. “Never.”

Geto just smiles. “I wouldn’t? Maybe not.”

His piercing eyes seem to see stare right through you. “But what about my best friend?”

You freeze.

“Is that such an uncomfortable thought?” He chuckles a little too lightly. “Never thought about it even once? Not even after he killed me?”

He tuts at you, clicking his tongue. “Sweetheart, I knew you were blinded by him, but never to this degree. How low you have fallen…”

He moves closer. Your breath is trapped in your lungs and you can’t move.

“One toe out of line and you might end up like me. Don’t you see?” He shakes his head.

Hot anger flashes through you, and your tongue lashes out before you can think. “One toe out of line? No. No. You committed genocide. You murdered your entire family in the name of it. For what? A delusional dream?”

He sighs. “Of course. So brainwashed…you’re practically a monkey. How disappointing. You don’t get it, do you? I was apparently his everything, and look how I ended up.”

“You’re not Geto!” You cry out. “You can’t be.”

He laughs softly, but his gaze is razor-sharp. “Are you sure these aren’t Geto’s thoughts?”

You bite your lip in nervous thought. “Ge- you…why am I here?”

He ignores your question as he begins to circle you like a hawk, eyes sharp and hungry. “You know, you’re not quite what I imagined you to be.”

You take a few tentative steps back, trying to subtly increase the distance between you and the living corpse in front of you, but he strides over to your side when he notices.

“I’m just so curious,” He says, eyes raking over your figure. “You really are (Y/N), aren’t you? Fits the descriptions…”

The blood drains from your face. You back away from his seeking hands that threaten to touch you, to investigate you.

“There’s a disgusting amount of papers with your name written all over them – I don’t think Hanami would have liked me much before. Such a waste of stationery,” He says, his twisted smirk pulling shivers down your spine. “Why was I so fixated on you? You don’t look like anything special. Don’t tell me…I actually fell for someone as plain as you?”

“What?” You breathe out, eyes wide, mouth parted in surprise. “Geto, you…he…it wasn’t like that.”

“And you didn’t even know,” He coos in faux pity. “How cruel to find out in this way. Seems like you have only ever focused on my former equal. You only pay attention to the strongest – how shallow. What did I ever see in you?”

“I- that’s not-“ You try to form a sentence, deny it, say it’s not true because it truly isn’t, but your tongue and vocal chords won’t cooperate with you.

“When confronted with the truth, humans get tongue tied,” He smiles, voice dripping with mockery. “How precious. What a good little monkey you are – so unbearably typical, so exemplary of your species.”

“Stop,” You gasp out.

“What, sweets? Can’t handle the truth?”

“Don’t call me that,” You try to say with conviction, but it leaves you weakly and softly, almost a plea.

“What, you only like it when he calls you that?” He says with a dark chuckle. “How pathetic. How much has you brainwashed you into thinking he acutally wants anything to do with you? Gojo doesn’t like to get attached. And even when he does–”

He leans forward, invading your space, pressing up too closely to your body. “–sometimes you still end up dead.”

“Stop,” You beg. “Get away from me. You’re-you’re scaring me, Suguru.”

“Am I?” He smirks. “Oh, I’m sorry. I know what to do to make you forgive me, though. Used to work on Shoko, too.”

“No, stop!” You cry, ragged breaths leaving you. “This isn’t you, stop, please, stop!”

“You’re right,” He smiles wickedly, eyes dark. “It’s not.”

His lips meet yours. It burns your skin, but not pleasantly – it’s all wrong, and it hurts. You shove him away with as much force as you can, leaving him stumbling back a few paces. He laughs. He laughs.

“Wow, I’m impressed,” He chuckles, amused. “You’re stronger than you used to be. Maybe you actually live up to being Grade 1 now, huh?”

“Who are you?!” You cry out. “Why did you bring me here?”

“I’m Geto Suguru,” He says with a crazed smile. “Is it that hard to believe when my body was never retrieved?”

“What do you want from me?” You snarl, growing angry. “You’ve just been toying with me, you bastard. Trying to play all these mind games on me, leaving your dirty work to your underlings. None of it feels substantial enough to kidnap me.”

A cackle escapes Geto, “You’re right, it isn’t. By yourself, you aren’t of any interest to me. Just a memento of the past – I don’t have any use for you.”

He continues with a smirk, “I have to say though, your reactions have piqued my interest slightly. Jogo seems to feel the same way. Perhaps if you could be our little monkey for entertainment - it might keep Jogo out of trouble elsewhere.”

Reduced to entertainment.

“You’re sick,” You say, shaking your head.

“Hardly. It’s only natural treatment for someone so unimportant. Should I be frank?” He asks, touching his chin to mock contemplation. “You are here solely as means of luring him out.”

You break out in a cold sweat. It was as you suspected and feared: you are only bait. Bait for the strongest.

“He won’t come,” You declare. “This is pointless.”

“Do you take me as an idiot monkey?” Geto frowns. “You’re not the only one who can read residuals. He came last time, and he will come this time.”

“He doesn’t know,” You hiss. “He won’t come. He doesn’t want to see me right now.”

Geto only smiles. “He’ll come.”

His confidence scares you. Even though it would be very unlikely Gojo is even aware that you’re away on a mission, doubt still swirls in your gut. You don’t want him to walk into this trap – who knows what Geto has planned?

While you mull over your thoughts, Geto grows impatient.

“This is quite dull. Let’s test your strength, First Grader,” He smirks. “Maybe they’ll pass you to Special Grade if you can land a single hit.”

Suddenly, your breath is stolen from you. You double over in pain, caught off guard by the assault to your stomach. It was only a kick, but it was the hardest you’ve been hit in your entire life by another sorcerer.

“Silly me, I’ve forgotten my manners,” Geto says drily. “When harkening back to our school days, I must ask if you’re ready before we spar.

But don’t forget, the enemy won’t wait for you. Didn’t we learn that?”

Satoru’s words. He would often preemptively attack before the sparring session officially began, and he would always recite those exact words. You feel sick.

You don’t respond, knowing it would take away from your focus. Instead, you concentrate on pouring your cursed energy into your hearing technique.

He begins his initial assault: he’s extremely agile, and his punches and kicks seem to come out of thin air. You anticipate his attacks with your highly developed sense of hearing, listening for each twitch of his muscles and the roar of his appendages slashing through the air. Essentially, you read his moves before he has finished them. Your body can’t always keep up with your hearing enough to avoid him, though, but the blows are lessened by your half-developed shielding.

You haven’t attempted a single hit of your own – all your energy has gone into avoiding each of his potent attacks. Every time you see an opening, your chance is ruined by another attack of his.

After a few minutes of religiously defending, your senses slow. You can hear everything, but you can’t physically keep up with him. You begin to take hit after hit after hit – until you’re forced to retreat several paces back. Blood drips from your nose, spilling into your mouth and filling your mouth with the metallic tang of iron. It tastes of defeat and cowardice.

“Are you sure you’re not a monkey?” Geto roars in laughter. “To call you a sorcerer is sacrilegious at best. How disappointing you are. Haven’t improved an ounce since our days together, have you? Other than that half-baked excuse of a technique - trying to imitate the strongest, perhaps?”

You ignore his taunts, using the time to draw out two small daggers from your sleeves. You fare better with bows, but the twin blades are better than nothing.

“What cute little pocket knives,” Geto jeers. “They look sharp.”

“Want to find out?” You growl.

He scoffs. “I’d like to see you try.”

It is a dance that never ends – you are held captive by the need to defend yourself, not able to stop without the fear of further injury. You are slowly giving up hope when time seems to slow down. Your breath hitches as you spot what you need desperately: an opening. You zero in on the opening, thrusting your right hand into the open space. A spurt of red splashes your hand – your aim was true.

You step back immediately, parrying his retaliating blow with your other blade. More droplets spill over you, a shower of red that makes you nauseous.

You’re breathing hard. You haven’t fought with a sorcerer – or even a curse – for a long time, and it’s taking more of your strength than you anticipated.

Geto doubles over, which fills you with confusion. There’s no way those two nicks did any substantial damage, so why is he hunched over in pain?

And then you hear it. Laughter. Crazed laughter erupts from him in waves. When he looks up at you, the fear in the pit of your stomach intensifies. He’s not hurt – he’s pissed off. Very.

“I have to admit, you exceeded my expectations. But that’s not saying much when I expected nothing from a dirty monkey like you,” He spits. “What a brat.”

“If I recall correctly, you were the one who wanted to spar like old times,” You glare, grip tightening on your daggers. “It was only per your suggestion.”

“Your insolence boils my blood…how does he care for someone like you?! How did I?!” He roars. “You are nothing!”

He rushes forward faster than you can register and knocks you to the ground. You instinctively roll out of the way and are still nearly stomped on. You try to stand up, or even just sit up, but can’t. You begin to panic – you feel frozen in place, unable to even turn your head.

“Now you can’t run away,” He growls. “Should I make it a little unbearable? You deserve it.”

You feel a great pressure forcing your body into the ground. It’s excruciating; you feel as if your bones are grinding together and all your muscles are compressed. You can’t bite back the cry that erupts from your throat.

“Now you really feel the gravity of the situation,” He says with a demented smile. “You know, maybe I don’t need you anyway. He can just come to retrieve your body. Can’t make the same mistake twice, after all. Leaving a body to rot is a vulnerability. I could fix that for him, too…leave a puddle where you used to stand? If I crush you long enough, perhaps…”

“Fuck you,” You manage to get out. “You’ll never win. You’ll never beat Satoru.”

You fall flat on your face, coughing, as you are released from his technique. You try to push yourself up, but you only manage to a kneeling position. Not that it matters anyway, not when you are grabbed by your throat and hoisted in the air.

“Do you always make so many mistakes?” He hisses. “It’s like you want me to kill you.”

You couldn’t respond even if you wanted to with how hard he’s clutching your trachea. You have no idea when you dropped your blades, but they’re not in your hands now, so you have to resort to pitifully clawing at his grip with your bare hands.

Your vision begins to blur and darken as you asphyxiate. Howls of laughter ring in your ears, getting quieter and then louder as your hearing fades in and out.

Is this how it will end? No, it can’t, you can’t let it. You can’t leave yourself to die at the hands of Geto Suguru. You can’t die at the hands of your former friend, and be found by your other best friend. You can’t do that to him.

You claw harder, more desperately, even though you feel yourself weakening. It’s futile – his grip won’t even loosen at your efforts.

You have to use your weaker technique. If you do it perfectly, it might propel him from your body, giving you a chance to escape. Escape to where, you don’t know, but you need to try. You don’t have any chance otherwise.

With a burst of strength you didn’t know you had, you focus all of your cursed energy into the skin that is touching Geto. Your close your eyes, visualizing the perfect invisible wall that encases Gojo – no flaws, no gaps, no way to get past – and then you release your energy.

There’s a loud smack that resonates through the air, and then you crumple to the ground. When you look up, you can see a hard shell jutting between you and Geto, effectively shielding you. Geto is clutching his arm, which is now red and swollen.

You actually did it. It was a perfect use of your technique.

“You are frustrating, but no matter. I have other methods at my disposal. Didn’t think I’d have to pull this on you, but you seem to be begging for your demise, so I might as well use it,” He grits his teeth, and holds one arm out, his forearm curling up.

A ball of black energy appears at his fist. It is nebulous and shifts as it grows bigger. It begins to glow as time passes, as it amasses more energy. You have no idea what that is, but you highly doubt your shield will be able to block it. As you think about your options, your shield begins to fade away – you are nearly out of cursed energy. You are wide-eyed as you watch the last sections of your shield dissipate to nothing.

Entirely defenseless, you heave yourself to a standing position and try to stumble away. You fall to one knee in agony – Jogo and Geto have taken a toll on you.

You look over to see the ball of darkness leave Geto’s fingers. You are frozen, knowing you can do nothing, but also knowing you will die if you do nothing.

It approaches, and you close your eyes. Hopefully it will completely destroy you in a single instant, so it won’t be torturous. At least you won’t be in pain for long.

It’s going to hit you. And then you suppose it does. You feel weightless, like you weigh nothing. Perhaps your body has been destroyed, and this is how your brain is processing the absence of your nerve endings.

But if you are not here anymore, why does the wind whip through your ears?

You were mistaken. You don’t just feel weightless, you are weightless.

When you open your eyes, tears spill out at the sight in front of you. Tousled white hair, a blindfold tucked over his eyes, rigid determination showing through his features.

“I didn’t know this is where we were holding the school reunion. Class of ‘007, except Geto went all rogue and didn’t end up graduating. What a failure!”

His words are playful, and he’s smiling, but somehow his tone doesn’t match. It’s serious and dark, not at all jocular. He seems to be making an effort to keep up his lighthearted persona, but his true feelings can’t help but bleed out.

“Ah, you finally showed up,” Geto cackles. “It’s not good to have a weakness. I was about to do you a favor.”

Gojo laughs bitterly, “Don’t you know? Strength comes from weaknesses. Not that you would understand.”

“In any case…” He looks down at you. “I won’t let you take away my strongest weakness.”

next part

a/n 2.0: Okay so, idk how it 100% is in the manga bc I haven’t read it, but basically this ‘Geto’ (*cough* Kenjaku) has thoughts that are Kenjaku but with some of Geto’s memories ?? .. sorry if that’s non canon heehee

Bonus!!: Also I’ve been learning some Japanese so here is Gojo’ name spelled out: ごじょさとる。This is more for my own enjoyment 🫣 but here you go lol

tag list: @thenyxsky, @whitehairedtwink, @screwyou3

also thank you @zoyatoshi for your such sweet reblogs 🥹🥹 literally inspired me to finish this chapter up after 6+ months !!

#gojo satoru x reader #reader needs a hug #gojo satoru needs a hug #geto suguru #Jujutsu Kaisen #jjk angst #angst/comfort #hurt/comfort #geto suguru needs a hug but he’s not getting one

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