💿 Sam’s Fic Recs ! - Blog Posts

moved –> @satorusgummies !!!

inspired by an old little blurb i found in my diary from awhile back

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔… is not your boyfriend.

deep down you knew it was fucked up to keep sneaking through his window. it's a large window painted white and a chip in the paint in the wood, evidence that you were there because your bag had scraped against the pearly paint job.

it was wrong, but the way he held your hips in place and caressed you was unlike anything you had ever felt before. he wasn't even your boyfriend, just a snobby business major that you met during your freshmen year of college. hell, you hated his guts— but it wasn't enough to stop seeing him.

he isn't yours.

"we— fuck— we should really stop meeting like this." you say in between soft gasps, interrupted by the soft feeling of his mouth against yours— strangely intimate and romantic compared to the roughness you experienced earlier that night.

"why? 'cause you know you'll be back tomorrow night." the white-haired man quips, pressing his warmth and weight onto your side to keep you in place.

his gaze flickers to your parted lips; he doesn't ask before kissing you.

gojo always kisses you after making love.

despite that, he isn't yours.

his lips were so gentle, as if he was lightly pulling the air from you with every little movement. his voice was shaky, out of breath... and gojo almost thinks the nervousness in his stomach is a butterfly, fluttering around at the presence of you.

you look up at him, waiting for him to speak.

he's intensely pretty.

"don't leave tonight." gojo shushes you, removing any possibility that he doesn't want you here with him tonight.

without even noticing it, your eyes go wide. what does it mean? stay here, stay here with him? there couldn't be any way he wants more than this.

he isn't yours.

gojo's nose lightly presses into the crease of your neck, pleading. he knows your heart will depart for the door the minute he stands, but he wonders if your body will still choose him.

"please, stay."

"are you sure?" you whisper, so faintly the words get lost in the sea of darkness that surrounds the two of you.

his eyes meet yours— an indescribable flame bursts into a thousand scarlet fragments and he's at your mercy, again.

"stay."

© YUNYMPHS 2024 modifications, reposts, and translations of any kind are strictly prohibited.

𝝑𝑒 synopsis. after being married to satoru for two years, you still giggle and (secretly but not so secretly) fangirl about him whenever given the chance. your husband absolutely loves indulging you.

tags. husband!gojo satoru x wife!female reader. fluff, sfw, tiny bits of angst. tooth rotting fluff yeah. reader gets called ‘princess, baby’. inspired by this ask.

“and and and, his smile ‘s just so beautiful,” you sigh dreamily, resting your head on satoru’s lap. you’re both enjoying the cozy night in your shared apartment. with no one bothering you—with no regards for the world that’s continuing its cycle outside.

satoru chuckles as he pats your head slowly, taking his time to appreciate every feature of yours. from your pink-ish lips to your pretty eyes. he’s so in love with the creation god has gifted him. he nods attentively, “yeah? what else?”

you giggle as he indulges you. it’s a habit of yours, to fangirl over your husband like you’re not literally his wife. satoru finds it absolutely adorable. plus, it boosts his ego. in a very good way.

“aaaand, he’s caring. that’s the one thing i love most about him,” you continue to ramble about your little ‘crush’ on that so-called mysterious white-haired sorcerer. satoru wishes he could capture this moment and keep repeating it over and over in his head.

the way you talk about your crush - him - is filling his stomach with butterflies. the tall man can’t deny the faint blush on his cheeks and the fuzzy feeling in his chest. you keep getting cuter and cuter the more time passes.

when he thinks you’ve reached a state of perfection in his eyes, you once again prove him wrong and go beyond that. “caring, hm? he must treat my princess real good then,” satoru hums and continues petting your head. his other hand rubs your stomach—fingers creeping under the material of your nightgown.

“he does,” you nod in agreement, “he treats me so well. i don’t know how i got so lucky to have met him.” you squirm a little as you feel satoru’s slender fingers graze your midriff, going back down to your belly and then back up your chest again. his touch is so intimate and loving. you’re spoiled. spoiled rotten by his affection.

satoru sighs. his white lashes flutter shut for a second. hearing you say such stuff makes him want to check if it’s reality he’s in. if it isn’t another too-good-to-be-true dream of his. no one had loved him as much as you did.

it feels good to know that he’s wanted. needed.

“no, i think he is the lucky one,” satoru continues. his hand petting your head stops and he moves it to rub your cheek tenderly. he leans his head down, the tips of your noses touching. he whispers, “having a pretty girl like you love him so dearly… yeah, he’s won the lottery.”

your heart skips a beat. satoru’s words leave you speechless. you don’t know if you can keep up the little silly act anymore. his flirting, the teasing and the genuineness behind his words—it’s all too much.

you grab the back of his head and push his lips down against yours. satoru’s breath hitches for a second before he gives in to you. he visibly melts, eyes closing and hands tightening their grip around your body.

“mmh,” satoru lets out a content moan. he loves you. he’s glad he’s met you and he’s glad he made you his wife two years back. you’re the only one for him. death won’t do you apart—no—he promised you on your wedding day that it wouldn’t.

you kiss him like it’s your last kiss on earth. the spark between you is still as warm and strong as it was when you met. the people who’ve warned you about the ‘honeymoon phase’ are clearly all wrong. they aren’t aware of the strength your bond with satoru has. you’re inseparable.

“i love you,” you sigh against satoru’s glossy lips and he deepens the kiss after that.

somebody loves him. somebody cares for him. that’s all he needs in life. his life is complete with you in it. he smiles against your lips and says the three words back, with more passion than ever before, “i love you too, my angel.”

nothing will ever separate you. not fate. not anyone.

sukunas fav concubine being bullied by the other concubines?? maybe they push her into the fountain 👀👀👀

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. being bullied because you’re sukuna’s favorite concubine is nothing out of the ordinary. when sukuna finally notices the harassment you’re going through, he doesn’t hold back.

wc. 2.2k-ish

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine! female reader. fluff, angst (hurt to comfort). heian era. bullying. one mention of d.ecapitation. vile language. reader gets called ‘brat’. beta reading? what’s that

“she’s got nothing going on for her,” “right? i don’t get what he sees in her,” “tch—he’s only using her for her body anyway,” “duhh. he can’t be pleased by her looks. i mean, she’s really ugly. i bet he thinks of her as just ‘nother hole to use. . .”

and the shushed gossips continue. the concubines hanging around the garden have noticed your arrival, though do nothing to stop badmouthing you. they couldn’t care less if you hear what they say.

you’re used to it by now. you’ve adjusted to this life of yours as one of sukuna’s concubines. his favourite at that—which automatically makes you a victim of verbal (and sometimes physical) harassment. the other women in the ruthless sorcerer’s harem can’t stand you.

your eyes are glued to the path you’re walking on. your lady-in-waiting doesn’t utter a single word as well, holding her head low as she follows behind you. you know that the concubines will immediately pick on you if you make eye contact with one of them.

it’s moments like these where you actually miss sukuna. his intimidating presence and (in)direct threats would immediately make the others fall silent. you wouldn’t have to hear them call you nasty names.

though, unlucky you, sukuna’s out on business. uraume is left as a temporary supervisor of the entire estate. to make sure nothing goes wrong. despite all of that, you still find yourself in an unfortunate predicament.

“hey. we’re talking to you,” a female voice rings from behind you. it isn’t your lady-in-waiting, but the brown-haired woman whom you recognise as one of sukuna’s concubines. her name. . . you can’t recall.

she forcefully pushes your shoulder with two fingers. you stumble backwards, nearly tripping over the material of your kimono. you look down at the hem and notice a subtle muddy stain on the cloth now that you’ve accidentally stepped on it.

you curse the woman out under your breath. the kimono is one of your favorites since sukuna had it made and tailored to suit your taste.

“my apologies,” you mumble politely. you do not wish to make a scene as much as you want to defend yourself. not in front of those poor servants who are simply minding their business and tending to the garden.

the lady scoffs. another one joins. soon, four of them surround you, leaving you no place to escape the situation. with every step you take back, they take one forward. it’s intimidating, though you try to make it seem like you’re not afraid of their words.

“tell me,” the blonde one speaks up and her hand trails up your arm. she twirls a strand of your hair around her index finger before harshly tugging at it. you wince, but she doesn’t budge, “tell me what sukuna sees in a worthless slut like you.”

it’s about sukuna every time. you’re getting sick of the way they treat you because of something you can’t control. you don’t know why he favors you out of all the other women at his service. the way you’re treated because of something that you cannot change is getting frustrating.

the brown-haired woman follows the other lady. she pushes you until the back of your shoe bumps against the edge of a fountain. the grande fountain in the yard that you always love to admire.

the tugs at your hair get stronger. your patience is wearing thin. you take some time to reply to the other concubines, hoping to silence them for now.

you look up at the group surrounding you—a grin tugging at your lips as you decide to taunt them. you scoff, “hah. you cannot blame me for satisfying my lord better than all of you could do together.”

audible gasps sound from the group of concubines. they can’t believe you had the audacity to talk back and be disrespectful about it. the comment you made clearly struck a nerve. or in this case multiple.

“oh, you slut!” the blonde one shrieks, clearly more than upset by your doubts about her services as a concubine. in a flash of rage, she gives you a firm push, sending you backwards until you fall into the fountain with a loud splash.

your lady-in-waiting is the one gasping this time. she looks at you with great worry in her eyes, not knowing if she needs to go fetch uraume or not. she doesn’t have much say in the matter either way.

you’re humiliated by this. you can feel the water seep into the robes of your kimono, staining the beloved material. your hair is wet as well, the water droplets falling off the ends of your locks.

“pah, you look pathetic,” one of the lower ranking concubines chimes in—giggling at the unfortunate situation you got yourself in. the others follow with their own high pitched laughs, “serves you right.”

you don’t even know what you should do. your body feels heavy because of the water wetting your clothes. your nails drag along the fountain’s surface, trying to compose yourself before you do anything irrational.

you grit your teeth and take a deep breath. you’re shaking, both because of the cold settling over your body as well as the anger simmering inside of you. you open your mouth to say something, only to be interrupted.

by someone you didn’t expect to see any time soon.

“enough.”

the deep tone sends chills down your spine. the volume of the male voice nearly shakes the ground. it’s powerful, dominant and quite aggressive. as if the owner of the voice is pissed. no, more than that.

the group of concubines freeze, not even daring to turn around and face the unexpected visitor. you notice your lady-in-waiting immediately falling to her knees, bowing at the man whom you know very well.

“my lord,” you stammer out, being the first to speak up and address him. you’re surprised to see sukuna back this early from his business trip. he normally stays away from the estate for days on end.

sukuna’s footsteps are heavy. his strides are menacingly slow. the aura surrounding him makes the others shake—one concubine being smart enough to bow to him. the king of curses is not one to be messed with, especially when he’s angry.

“tsk. have you lost all your respect while i was gone?” sukuna growls, seeing how the group of concubines are frozen in place with fearful expressions on their faces. the fact that they’re not bowing before him worsens his temper, “kneel.”

he raises one hand and they all knew what was going to happen. you squeal and shut your eyes, hearing that familiar and dooming sound of slashes around you. it doesn’t sound like they’ve hit anything, so you peek through your eyelashes.

you see how the group of women have dropped to their knees the instant sukuna raised his hand in that specific manner. everyone knew just what that meant; death to anyone who’s got their head held high in his presence.

you’ve all seen enough people get decapitated by that same action to know that the sorcerer was not playing around.

sukuna scoffs. he walks up towards you, ignoring the pleas of the other concubines that are begging for his forgiveness. his bottom set of eyes look down at them with disdain before focusing on your figure again.

he silently stands still at the edge of the fountain. his large frame looms over you and you find yourself struggling to get up from the water to bow at him as well. you keep your eyes on your lap, “i’m sorry, my lord.”

sukuna hisses at your apology. a warning for you to shut your mouth. you’re apologising when it’s not your fault and that irritates him more than anything. two of his strong arms reach down to pick you up from your vulnerable position.

the king of curses hoists you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. he’s not bothered by the fact that you’re dripping wet. in fact, both of his left arms wrap around your torso in attempt to warm you up.

“stay. you’ll all be dealt with accordingly when i return,” sukuna harshly orders your aggressors as he turns around and walks away from the group. he carries you in his arms, not sparing a single glance at his concubines.

he doesn’t even care that he stepped on one of the women’s hands as he passed by. the high pitched shriek only serves to annoy him, which you notice by the way he squeezes your waist in response.

it’s silent between you two for a bit. sukuna steps inside of the estate, his ominous aura making you hesistant to speak. you decide to stay quiet for the sake of keeping the peace. for now.

sukuna’s breathing is a little heavy. he’s trying not to lash out or say anything hurtful. he doesn’t like raising his voice at you—but sometimes he feels like he needs to. especially when you land in situations like those.

“how long has this been going on?” sukuna asks through a heavy sigh. his red eyes are focused on the end of the hallway, where his chambers lay. the veins in his neck look like they could pop out any second now, “and don’t you dare fuckin’ lie to me, y’hear?”

you gulp. you’ve never been so nervous to answer him, ever. you attempt to respond, “uhm, for quite a while, my lord.”

sukuna breathes in sharply at the revelation. the fact that you did not specify your answer only made him think that it’s worse than you’re making it out to be. he stops in his tracks, two hands on your waist as he forces you to face him.

your body dangles in the air as sukuna makes you look at him from up close, showing you that dangerous look in his eyes. you do not dare to avert your gaze from his as he speaks.

“you should’ve told me the moment they started disrespecting you like that,” sukuna grunts. another big hand grabs your jaw firmly, squeezing your cheeks together. you whine as it hurt a little. he scoffs and releases your jaw with a light push, “pathetic.”

you feel your body get thrown into your original position once more. your head is upside down and your legs hang limply over his shoulder. you try to defend yourself in a quiet tone, “i thought you were too busy. i didn’t want to bother you with such unimportant matters.”

it’s true. as much as you wanted to tell sukuna about the mistreatment you were receiving, you knew how busy he was attending to more urgent business. you didn’t want to annoy him with your own problems that you could easily solve.

if only you could stand up for yourself.

“nonsense,” sukuna raises his voice in a moment of weakness, though remembers that you’ve probably been through enough for the day. he doesn’t need to add to that by treating you like shit as well.

he simply sighs it off, “unimportant, huh? ‘s that how you think i view you?”

you raise an eyebrow at sukuna’s last sentence. you’re at a loss for words. you know sukuna values you more than any of his other concubines—it’s the main reason you’re getting bullied for—yet you never heard him speak to you in such a surprisingly soft way.

almost like he’s disappointed that you don’t realise the extent of his favoritsm. he cares about you more than you actually think he does.

“i-i’m sorry, my lord,” you stutter. you really do not have a clue about what to say. all you can do is apologise as you’re left overthinking that one little sentence he said.

“what a brat,” sukuna quickly regains his usual stoic and stern composure. he reaches his chambers and enters his personal bathroom before putting you down on your feet. he looks down at your short stature, feeling the warmth of your body leave his skin once you’re separated.

sukuna watches you shiver. he wants to get angry at you for not telling him about anything that’s been going on while he’s not present, though he simply cannot at the moment.

he’ll let you off the hook for now. but, he’s surely going to give you your own special scolding after he’s taken care of the other concubines. the man grabs a large towel from nearby and messily wraps it around your upper body.

sukuna turns around to walk out of his bathroom, looking over his shoulder once more, “get dressed into something else before you catch a cold.”

he calls for a couple servants to tend to you while he’s away to take care of those deviant concubines. sukuna watches the three maids rush to your service, preparing you a new set of clothes as well as trying to dry you off.

his gaze lingers on you for more than is necessary, his jaw clenching at the sight of you trembling from the low temperatures you’re experiencing. sukuna’s going to make sure those other women pay for what they’ve done to you.

he leaves the bathroom after that, though not without leaving you an order to follow;

“you’re staying in my chambers tonight.”

Heyyyy i was wondering if you could write megumi x little sister fic? Ofc platonic tho! Like toji prob had a one night stand with another soceror and she was born and shes like 3 years younger than him....maybe like she injured herself training cuz she trains too hard and he helps and comforts her?!?!? Hope you see this...thanks!!

Hey there!! love the idea and i hope you like it!! I was in a rush but here you go!!

!TW! This fanfic includes injuries and emotional distress reader at your own will

Sibling Strenght

ᴀ ᴍᴇɢᴜᴍɪ ғᴜsʜɪɢɪʀᴏ x ʏᴏᴜɴɢᴇʀ sɪsᴛᴇʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ sᴛᴏʀʏ

The day was slowly giving way to dusk, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The Jujutsu High training grounds were empty, save for the lone figure of a girl pushing herself to her limits.

You, the younger sister of Megumi Fushigiro, were born from a fleeting encounter between Toji and another sorcerer. Despite being only three years younger than Megumi, you always felt a constant pressure to catch up, to prove that you were just as capable as your older brother.

This determination led you to train alone, ignoring the protests of your body and the fatigue that was slowly creeping in. It was during one such training session that you twisted your leg. The pain was immediate, causing a sharp gasp to escape your lips as you crumbled to the ground.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you clutched your injured leg. The training grounds, once filled with determination and resolve, now felt cold and lonely. You were alone, or so you thought.

"Megumi..." you whimpered, your voice barely a whisper against the evening breeze.

Megumi, who had been watching from a distance, rushed over. His face was as impassive as ever, but his eyes were filled with concern. He had always been like this, his emotions hidden behind a stoic facade, only revealing his true feelings in the rare moments when he let his guard down.

"You're such an idiot," he scolded gently, his tone devoid of any real anger. He knelt beside you, his hands carefully assessing the damage to your leg. His touch was gentle, a stark contrast to his usually reserved demeanor.

"You're not alone, you know," he said, his voice soft and soothing. He held your gaze, his usually cold eyes warm with concern. "You don't have to push yourself this hard. Not when you have people who care about you."

His words were like a balm, easing the pain and calming your racing heart. You weren't alone. You had him, and he had you. And as long as you had each other, you could face anything together.

"You don't have to be as strong as everyone else. You just have to be strong in your own way," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "And remember, I'm always here for you. No matter what."

His words hung in the air, a promise and a reassurance that you weren't alone in this journey. You had Megumi, and that was more than enough.

With a soft sigh, he gently lifted you into his arms. Despite the situation, you couldn't help but feel safe and protected. His arms were strong and warm, wrapping around you in a comforting embrace.

"Let's get you to the infirmary," he said, his voice filled with a quiet determination. As he carried you off, you couldn't help but feel grateful. You had the best brother in the world, and you wouldn't trade him for anything.

- synopsis: gojo misses you :D

a/n: HHAHREHRAHRKJEHRKJER- oops. sorry, i meant hehe-

Seconds pass by, slower than the next as Gojo dully stares at the blackness of his blindfold.

For once, he was glad that the blindfold covered his eyes because if anyone, anyone saw what the blindfold was hiding-

he couldn't let that happen.

Your voice swirled around his head, like a hurricane.

Except in his mind.

Echoes upon echoes bounced off his mind like an endless pattern, of tears, of heartbreak, grief, of loss.....

and of you.

everything, everything he looked at, he touched, he smelled, he felt-

reminded him of you.

but at the same time, it didn't.

He remembered how you would say his name, how you laughed, but he couldn't remember what you looked like.

Just a hazy memory.

He fell, harder then he fell for you, down into the endless abyss of 'i couldn't save them.'

'i had so much left to say.'

But he couldn't say them, and the bitter taste of unspoken words fell upon his tongue, souring even the sweetest of candies.

Candy was a close enough taste of your lips, but it wasn't it.

Pooling up in his heavenly eyes, Gojo attempted to close his eyes, close off his feelings, and close off the thoughts of you, but tears still fell from the eyes that held his power.

His blindfold soaked the tears up, a comforting touch, a comforting replica of your touch when you brushed his tears away.

But your touch remained buried deep in the ground.

Engraved on a stone, covered in a bland, simple, grey.

Everything was such a simple word to him.

everything meant something priceless beyond repair, everything was a different word from forever, just a different meaning.

everything was you.

It didn't matter, because everything was gone.

All that was left, were fragments and shards of a broken heart, and an even more broken mind.

his everything was gone.

taglist: @no-b10g-here @anxious-chick @aleluvsuu @funky-writes @oneofthesevensins @ladywinterfell13 @kazhyloveslaw @dazaisms @cyb3r-c44t @princessluvz @notherenortherejustaway @okaydokeyyo @iheartamora @haloswrld @churipu @lysaray @olivianyx @desihopelessromantic @kiri1330 @scryarchives

h-hey folks!! hows your day going😇

synopsis: sukuna comforts you contents: fluff

You would say you were pretty tough.

But now-

Their words pierced at your body, straight into your heart.

Words, they cut so damn deep.

And you hate that you were crying over some shithead that had no life, no future, but here you were.

"Hey."

A familiar gruff voice rang out through the room, bringing the familiar feeling of comfort.

But you didn't want him to see you like this.

"Come on brat, you have to eat."

"i'm not hungry."

"well thats shitty for you. come on, get your ass up, I don't want to deal with you starving."

"ryo, can you leave me alone for a little bit?"

Sukuna narrowed his eyes, his gaze darting to the way you absolutely buried yourself in blankets, to the way there was a half-empty ice-cream tub and how your voice seemed to shake.

He knew right away.

"Hey."

Sukuna closed the door with a gentle click as he rounded to where you were wrapped up in a burrito of a blanket.

"What's wrong?"

"nothing."

"you know how much i hate lies. spill it."

He didn't want to be gruff with you, but he didn't like to see you sad, see the tears that streamed down your pretty face.

So he'll try to help in whatever ways he can.

Mainly by pissing you off to the point you forget about how sad you were.

Or if he's feeling merciful, attempt to try his hand at comforting you.

When you didn't reply, Sukuna grumbled under his breath and snatched up a blanket, ignoring your muffled yelp of protest.

And tugged the blankets off of you.

"Knew it."

You glare up at him, angrily sniffing as he stares at you dead-on, before sitting down next to you with a heavy sigh.

"Listen. I don't know how to make you better, so if you need me, I'm here. or whatever."

Breathing out a shaky sob, you shook your head with a sniff as Sukuna awkwardly scooted over to you, with a 'why am I doing this' sort of look.

"I'm here."

He slowly wrapped an arm around your still form, attempting to smoosh the spark of triumph that flared up in his body as you leaned into him, the sobs dwindling down to the occasional hiccup.

And all the while, Sukuna had his arms wrapped around you, keeping you warm, making you feel safe, even comfy in his presence.

and all the while, he whispered one sentence in your ear.

"i'm here."

tagging: @no-b10g-here @anxious-chick @aleluvsuu @funky-writes @oneofthesevensins @ladywinterfell13 @kazhyloveslaw @dazaisms @cyb3r-c44t @princessluvz @notherenortherejustaway @okaydokeyyo @iheartamora @haloswrld @churipu @lysaray @olivianyx @desihopelessromantic @kiri1330 @scryarchives

networks: @archive-network

synopsis: gojo is so unfairly pretty contents: tooth rotting fluff.

Satoru Gojo was a beautiful man.

With his snow-white hair, all messed up and dripping wet from the shower, a towel resting on his broad shoulders and abs galore, glistening blue eyes that spoke of sins and triumphs-

And he knew of his beauty, of how he could make men and woman fall to their knees with one little pout, and he knew that you knew.

"You're staring baby."

"I am."

Gojo turned to you with a cocky smirk, lazily running his hand through his hair as he pulled on a baggy black shirt that still made him look like a Greek deity.

He could be, with his power, with his strength, and those heavenly blue eyes.

"you're so pretty 'toru."

seconds pass and with a small smile, gojo reaches down to where you were lying on the couch and picks you up as if you were nothing but air.

You were now in his arms, almost like how a koala hugs a tree, and Gojo's arms wrap around you, supporting you and at the same time, wrapping you up in a close, comfy, cuddle.

"i think you're prettier."

"stop lying to me, 'toru. you will always be the prettiest."

gojo smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, the smile widening with the sweet giggle that escaped your lips, the happiness expanding in his chest, something even his infinity can't hold back.

It was such a foreign feeling to him.

happiness.

because he only felt it around you, and the growing children he thought of as his kids.

he loved you, he loved them.

and he would do anything to make sure nothing will try to hurt you, hurt them, and he would protect them with all of his power.

as long as you were safe, he would sacrifice everything that meant something for him.

Even himself.

because you would be safe, you would be happy, and you would still be smiling and laughing.

"Hmm, i don't know, i think you're prettier."

he grinned down at your adorable face, relishing the pout that radiated false anger and he hummed as he felt your head rest at the crook of his shoulder.

"i love you, you big baby."

"of course you do- OW OW OW OWWW-"

"say it back!!!"

"fine but oW! OKAY OKAY OKAY-"

"i love you y/n."

taglist: @no-b10g-here @anxious-chick @aleluvsuu @funky-writes @oneofthesevensins @ladywinterfell13 @kazhyloveslaw @dazaisms @cyb3r-c44t @princessluvz @notherenortherejustaway @okaydokeyyo @iheartamora @haloswrld @churipu @lysaray @olivianyx @desihopelessromantic @kiri1330 @scryarchives

networks: @archive-network

NEVER HAD NOBODY AS SWEET AS YOU ♡

FEATURING: O.Yuuta + Fem!reader

♡ You're boyfriend is the sweetest person you've ever met, and you plan on showing him that!

CW: fluff, petnames, kissing, first time writing for yuuta

A/N: wow red's posting jjk stuff for ONCE?? also @saelique here's ur man <33

"♪ You said you love me exactly the way I am ♪"

"Yuuta?" He looked up at you, placing the book he was reading on the table beside him.

"Yes love?" Yuuta tilted his head to the side, lips curled upwards and the corners of his eyes crinkled as his easy gaze rested on your pretty face. You strolled over and planted yourself on his lap, giggling as a flush settled on his pale skin.

"What's wrong, yuuta?" You giggled, fingers sliding into his hair and carding themselves through the smooth, dark strands.

He blinked a few times, eyes wide and a flustered smile against his lips. Shifting yourself on his lap, you hummed and ran your fingers down the side of his face. "You're so pretty, y'know?" You sighed and gently planted your lips on his. You smiled into the kiss as you felt yuuta sputter and squeak. Pulling away, you playfully tapped his nose and giggled as yuuta stared up at you with his dark eyes.

"Pretty. My pretty boy." your lips trailed across his face, brushing his hair back and tugging him a little closer to you.

"D-darling...what are you doing?" Yuuta chuckled and placed his hand between your shoulder blades.

"Appreciating you." You hummed and kissed the tip of his nose.

"Why?" Gentle fingers brushed your hair behind you ears, smoothing down fly-aways.

You pulled away and pouted. "Is it a crime to?" Your lips curled up at your boyfriends laugh, warm breath brushing against your jaw as yuuta rested his chin in the crook of his neck.

"Of course not dear." He sighed and pressed a kiss to your shoulder. yuuta turned his head towards you, bringing his fingers up to gently press into the plush of your lips.

"Can I kiss you?" His words were so soft, and the love-sick gaze swirling in his eyes made your heart skip a beat.

"You don't need to ask, y'know? It'll always be 'yes'." You giggled and sighed as his kissed you, eyes dropping shut as yuuta placed his hands right under your ribs.

Yuuta pulled away, bringing your hand up to his lips and peppering kisses along the bone. "I know, I just wanted to make sure."

..♡♡♡..

©Cheriiyaya 2024

synopsis: jjk men reacting to your death :3 contents: angst ofc featuring: yuuta okkotsu, toji fushiguro, yuuji itadori

a/n: it was supposed to be way angstier but since I love you guys, I made it bittersweet-ish :D

𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐓𝐀 𝐎𝐊𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐒𝐔 ☆ (@cafunewon : i love you🥺🫶🏼)

Melted together, like time.

Another ring on his necklace, another person he loved, was gone.

Seconds passed, minutes dragged together and hours flowed, like the tide of the rebellious current of a river.

'you could've taken anything from me.'

tears flowed, like the very rain outside, thunder rumbling, like the emotions within himself, because, you took his soul, his heart, his very person.

'but why did you take them?'

You wiped it clean, you made him want to change, become stronger so he could protect you, protect the one thing he valued over his life and-

here he was.

over your tombstone, he stood over the freshly dug grave, and he thought how much you would've hated the bland, grey, of your tombstone.

The only thing that you would've liked about your final resting place, were the flowers that he planted himself, digging through the rich brown dirt to give you one last gift.

rich purples, deep reds, soft blues, vibrant pinks, all giving him an excuse to go back to you.

to take care of you, even if you weren't in this world.

The sky screamed out its rage, splitting the once beautiful sapphire sky into shades of grey, water pouring down from the heavens, the tears of the angels pouring down on Yuuta's silent form.

Saltwater mixed with fresh, pure water.

Sadness and grief, mixed with renewal and purification.

the petals of the flowers, sag underneath the skies tears and yuuta's deep blue eyes filled up with his own tears, salt now landing on the ground.

Almost like a curse, huh?

everyone he loved, everything he cared for, would always leave him, one way or another.

"please. wait for me, okay?"

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 ☆ (@unknownspecies you already hate me soooo😋)

He still thinks about you, a year after your death.

The worst year of his sad life.

He still thought about you, each minute, each hour, every. damn. second.

He thought of you when going to bed, his arm already reaching out to the empty space where he expected to feel your warm body against his bare skin, he thought of you when he heard your favourite song on the radio, practically hearing the way your voice cracked on the ridiculously high note, the teasing smile when he gazed at your photo-

your laugh haunted him, leaving echoes of happiness, of laughter, of love, of joy around the now sad home.

Echoes were all that remained of you.

"Together right? in this world, and in heaven as well."

Brushes of your skin, your voice drifting in his air, your smile, the way you held his hand-

How did you go in the blink of an eye?

How did you flood his thoughts, memories, when you weren't there?

Liquor was all that he tasted on his tongue, the taste flooding his mind, the feeling soothing his brain-

But not him.

He stared at the ring on his third finger, still wearing it, still calling you his.

Because you were.

In this afterlife and the next, you would always be his.

Even if you were just a memory.

Just another star in the brilliant, vast sky.

Seconds merge together, time standing at one point as his foggy mind stared at a constellation, the one specific star that glowed brighter than the rest, the one calling him in the remote distance.

"even... if you gave up on me......"

He whispered, his eyes closing as for a second, he could feel your comfortable presence beside him, holding his hand.

in the serene calmness, toji dropped the bottle, causing the glass to shatter, with remains of the liquid spilling out on the floor and one small tear carving it's way down his face, almost like a kiss.

"i.. will never give up on you."

𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 ☆ (@delulusioanlol h-hey diane🫣)

'i've been told to get you off my mind.'

He stared blankly at a picture of you, his dull hazel eyes transfixed on your laughing face. He could practically hear your sweet laughter echoing in his head.

But it was just imaginary.

He'd been counting days, seconds, anything to get your face out of his mind, your figure lying so, so still, on the white parchment of the hospital bed.

You died in his arms.

Yuuji let out a shaky sob, his vision blurring as a lump grew in his throat, because without you-?

The one thing, that kept him sane?

The one thing he loved most of all?

If you were gone, what was there to do?

Sobs enclosed his throat, suffocating him, entrapping him in the never-ending cycle of sadness and self-pity as your voice swam around in his messed up head.

But tears didn't slip out of his eyes.

So instead of crying, Yuuji dully stared into space, feeling his heart shatter into millions of tiny pieces.

Each little happy memory with you, cut a deeper hole into his soul, because all that was left-

were memories and photos.

He was falling apart, in the worst way possible.

"i miss the way it used to be......."

"i....hope your happy y/n."

tagging you: @no-b10g-here @anxious-chick @aleluvsuu @funky-writes @oneofthesevensins @ladywinterfell13 @kazhyloveslaw @dazaisms @cyb3r-c44t @princessluvz @notherenortherejustaway @okaydokeyyo @iheartamora @haloswrld @churipu @lysaray @olivianyx @desihopelessromantic @kiri1330 @scryarchives

Post-ww2 Yakuza!chuuya x Fem!reader

✮ Contents: ACT ONE, ~2k words, yakuza, mentions of ww2, mentions of double suicide

✮ A/N: omg i LOVED WRITING THIS FIC !! SO GLAD TO BE APART OF @kentopedia 's event!! a lot of this chapter is going to be set up, but it's important for the rest of the series !! next chapter~ masterlist~

Note: this is a work of fiction. I have taken some creative liberties in this fic, and i do not claim to know everything about japanese history but i have tried my best to be as historically accurate as possible

The train screeched, dragging along the rusty tracks to a stop. The doors slid open and people clambered out of the hot, stuffed train cars with large suitcases full of luggage in hand. You stepped outside into the mid-afternoon sun, surveying the noising chatter of people and the whistles blown by conductors while smoke billowed out the top of the train and dissolved in the air. Kyouka was right behind you- a young girl of around fourteen that had lost her parents in the war and, your personal maid. She carried your luggage with relative ease, it always stunned you how this young girl could manage carrying things most have trouble with.

“Come on, we have to reach the house soon…” You gestured for her to come closer to you. once she complied the two of you weaved your way through the sea of souls, chatter of things from the increase in the cost of rice to the presence of American troops flitted about.

Both because of the war.

You bumped into a man and quickly apologised, smoothing down the yukata that you wore as you glanced around the station in search for one of the servants that would bring you to the estate you were being sent to live in-for how long you didn’t know.

You saw some men crowded around a poster taped against the wall. Probably a poster from Communist supporters or just a call to resist the rule of gaijin. It’d probably will be torn down soon, and from the presence of American troops in this station alone made you wonder why it hadn’t been ripped off.

“Miss!!” You turned around to the source of the voice to see a young boy hurrying up to you, hair white and donning a sickly-pale complexion.

“You must be…” you racked through your brain for the boy’s name as he panted for air, hands on his knees. You were told his name before you left Tokyo, it was…

“…Atsushi. Nakajima Atsushi miss.” He panted, pushing his crooked bangs out of his sweat-beaded face. “Nice to meet you.” Atsushi smiled, straightening his posture and turning to Kyouka. You watched as he tried to take your luggage out of kyouka's small hands, to which she promptly refused and instead toddled off in search of the car. You smiled at her antics and followed along.

the car shifted against the gravelly unpaved roads leading to the estate. It was a family estate, built near the edges of Yokohama and one of few buildings that were lucky enough to be saved from the bombing of the Tokyo area a few years back. You rocked in the seat, hands folded in your lap as you looked out the window at the vibrant shades of green that adorned old, twisting tree trunks that curved along the sides of the road. “Have you been back recently miss?” Atsushi inquired from his spot in the front, steering wheel in his hands.

“No, it’s been a while. I can’t really remember the last time I was here very well, I was very young after all.” You braced against the side and let out a sudden yelp as the car hit a particularly bumpy spot. You looked at Kyouka quickly, confirming she was okay as you saw the girl looking quite unbothered as she stared blankly ahead with a small luggage bag in her lap.

Atsushi nodded, slowing the car down as the winding path opened to the estate grounds. Parking the car in a slope by the road, the three of you clambered out, exposing your skin to the sweltering heat of the burning sun.

“You can go inside miss. there’s not many helpers anymore but it’s not that much of a trouble.” Atsushi grunted as he helped kyouka lug the luggage out of the trunk, quickly explaining the directions to the room you were staying in. You nodded and went inside.

The estate was different; maybe it was because the light damage that was restored over the years, but there was something else to it. Maybe it was the way light shone in and hit the tatami floors, dust dancing in the rays coating the room in a warm hue. The floors creaked under the most gentle of steps as you walked through the halls following atsushi's hurried directions to your room. Pushing the sliding shoji door aside you entered the room carefully, as if there was an undisturbed creature slumbering away, forgotten amidst the chaos of the years long world war. There was a few things in the room, a western style desk and closet and a futon along with a few books lining a bookshelf. You aimlessly grabbed a book off the shelf, flipping through the text in boredom with your chin propped in hand. The entire estate was quiet, a far cry from the memories of the maid’s chatter and gossip echoing against the walls as a child. It was to be expected; no one in Japan was doing too favorably nowadays.

You sighed and dogeared the page you were on, laying down on the futon and staring blankly at the ceiling

Kyouka brought up the market as you ate breakfast the following morning.

“mh? do I want to go?” You took a sip of miso soup, head tilted in thought.

Kyouka nodded “I thought you might like to go out.” You nodded and swallowed.

“You’re right about that.” You spared one last bite of rice-it felt wrong to waste any when it was so expensive- and stood up.

The car sputtered and groaned as it came to a stop in a random alley near the Yamiichi. You and kyouka filed out, atsushi having some work to attend to so the two of you were left on your own. It was a bit stressing; after all it was your second day in Yokohama. Loose rock and dirt shifted under your heels as you slowly figured out the proper directions to the market from the vague directions given by a passerby.

Yamiichi were technically illegal, but sometimes they were the only places that most people could afford to buy from. Of course they had risks. Yakuza gangs often fought for control of the most lucrative markets in the city, and American troops often intermingled alongside the Japanese in the markets. However, keeping your head low and avoiding standing out worked well to repel possible troubles.

You were just there with your maid to get some food and leave. As the sight of poorly constructed roofs of market stalls grew closer you couldn’t help the dip of anxiety in your stomach, spreading and curling around in your limbs like a plague.

The market was packed at this time of day, and you made a mental note to come later or earlier-though the former seemed better to you. Weaving through hungry and desperate people was a difficult task, being pushed around and hitting the sharp, protruding bones of hips and shoulders would definitely cause some bruises if this kept up.

Pausing to read the stalls signs to figure out who was selling what, you made your way to a stall selling sweet potatoes among other vegetables, sending kyouka to another stall as you rather not stay longer than needed. The seller, a middle aged man with silver streaks in his dark hair, placed produce in a worn sack as you named out what you needed, and when he named the price it was more exorbitant than expected.

“Are you sure? For all that?” You dug your teeth into the soft flesh of the inside of your cheek, glancing at the half-filled sack. It seemed too much, but bartering didn’t seem attractive enough for you to argue with this man. You doled out some yen and placed them on the table, grabbing the sack of produce and hurrying off with it clutched to your chest.

Glancing around for kyouka, you didn’t see the man barreling towards you, looking around with hands shoved in pockets.

You didn’t notice him until he crashed into you, knocking the two of you to the ground with a heavy thud.

“Ah shit, my bad- are you okay miss?” You grunted and nodded, blinking dust out of your eyes as the ginger stood up and hurried to your side.

“I’m okay.” You sighed, looking to the side to find the threadbare sack ripped open and the produce spilled all over the dusty ground. You sighed and looked up at the man, gray eyes casting an apologetic glance at you while holding his gloved hand out. You nodded and took it, about to thank him when you heard an over-dramatic gasp and the crunch of gravel under hurried steps.

“Chuuya! How ungentlemanly of you to knock over such a pretty lady!” You saw a twitch in the man's-chuuya's- eye and he let out a silent hiss, glaring at the brown-haired man that strolled over.

“Shut it, mackerel. I didn’t mean to.” He snapped back, squeezing your hand a bit before dropping it. The brunette glanced at you before he grinned and dropped onto his knees, clutching your hand in his. You gaped a bit, a starry look in the mans eyes as he spoke quickly.

“My darling, would you like to reenact ending of the play Shinjuu ten no Amijima with me in a double suici-?” chuuya grabbed him by the collar, shoving him away from you and gritting his teeth.

“Sorry, sweetheart. For this mess-” He gestured to the wasted produce, “-and for dazai.” He shook dazai a bit and he whined about double suicides and how mean chuuya was for not letting him achieve one with you. You smiled a bit and giggled softly at the sight in front of you and if you were staring a little more carefully you would’ve seen the colour that flushed chuuya's cheeks.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll come back later I guess…” You sighed, shoulders slumping. chuuya's mouth opened before he shut it, nodding and rubbing the back of his neck.

“okay, guess I’ll go do…stuff…” He said it so quietly you had to strain your ears over the clammer of the market to hear. Before you could respond he lugged dazai up and dragged him away from you, not before you could register a snippet of their argument.

“c'monnnn, Chuuya! You hafta admit she’s reaaaally pretty-” a yelp followed.

“S-shut it!”

It took you a moment to realize they were talking about you.

You looked down and gathered some of the salvageable produce in your arms, and as you did so you realized your heart.

Why was it beating faster than normal?

Shinjuu ten no Amijima: "the love suicides at Amijima"; a kabuki play in which the two lovers commit double suicide at the end.

gaijin: foreigners; used by the Japanese to describe occupying American troops

Yamiichi: illegal black markets in post-wwii japan

©Cheriiyaya 2024

tagging: @rusmii @atsquie @minteraysolo @atzuhi @lovesick-fairy @adoredazai @pinky-99 @tabathastan @ravencincaide @dazaikinniess @nyx-prodigy @himikoslove @teddirika @hyacinth-venom @kaitoluver @dydrem @starracoonagain @scryarchives

synopsis : Satoru Gojo being a simp for you wearing a cute dress :3 contents: pouty gojo, fluff, fluffedy, fluff- cw: mentions of reader wearing a dress, just a teeny bit of suggestive content at the end :D

" 'Toru, people are staring-"

Gojo didn't even pay attention to what other people thought, right now all he cared about was hugging you as tight as earthly possible, because god you looked so pretty in that dress, with that blue silk glowing against your skin, and it matched with what he was wearing!

he wanted that dress for you and he wanted it now.

Letting go to admire you once more, Gojo quickly forced you to twirl, resisting the urge to giggle and kick his feet like a little boy as you stare at him with a amused glint in your eye.

Because he was a massive simp, and all he was actually kicking his feet, just a tiny bit so no one noticed, but it was obvious how in love he was with you.

And, you were pretty sure everyone in the store could see that.

To the giggles, to the whispers, to the stares of the watching employees and people, everyone knew the man was in love.

"Come on, let's go pay for it-"

that simple sentence wasn't even posed as a question, it was practically a plead as he grabbed your hand, and dragged you to the cash register.

"Wait I have to put on my normal clothes-"

"Why?"

You scoff as Gojo adjusted his tie, a pout forming on his face as he glanced down at you with his ethereal blue eyes, a hint of impatience on his face as he saw your frown.

"I'm wearing formal clothes! We can match!"

" 'Toru, that's because you just got home from a meeting, we can't go to McDonalds looking like we came from a five-star restaurant-"

"Who says?"

A few seconds of silence pass as you wage a silent battle with him through your eyes, and you sigh as Gojo gives you his best puppy eyes.

"....fine."

"YAY!"

"But I still have to get my clothes from the fitting roo-"

"I can just buy you new ones!"

Your protests were quickly snuffed out as Gojo nearly ran to the cash register, a sheepish grin befalling your face as you saw the woman manning the register raise an eyebrow at the over-excited man and you still wearing the dress, but she thankfully didn't say anything.

But it did get awkward because the dress you were wearing was the only one in stock and the damn tag got stuck so Gojo had to fish it out of your shirt sleeves.

And fifteen minutes later, you walked out of the store with your new dress, Gojo by your side with a goofy smile on his lips, as he cheerfully swung your hands, before turning back to gaze at you, his eyes crinkling up as he grinned at you, all the love, the devotion, everything showing on his face.

A lovesick puppy, almost.

"You're so beautiful Y/N."

He whispered, hugging you and burying his head in the crook of your neck ignoring all of the giggles and stares he attracted because of the gesture, his breath tickling your bare skin as he whispered a sentence that only you could hear.

"But... I think that dress would look better off, hm?"

(he ended up with a bruise on his forehead)

taglist🫶 @no-b10g-here @anxious-chick @aleluvsuu @funky-writes @oneofthesevensins @ladywinterfell13 @kazhyloveslaw @dazaisms @cyb3r-c44t @princessluvz @notherenortherejustaway @okaydokeyyo @iheartamora @haloswrld @churipu @lysaray @olivianyx @desihopelessromantic @kiri1330 @scryarchives

how deep is your devotion? ; satoru gojo

synopsis; you’re his knight, and he’s your prince. if only it were that simple.

word count; 6.6k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, royalty au (..but no effort put into making it historically accurate in any way oops), knight!reader x prince!toru!!, childhood friends, mutual pining, fluffy overall, some hurt/comfort too, vague allusions to abuse (reader is punished by one of the castle maids as a child but it’s only really hinted at), knight!reader is horrendously devoted but prince!gojo is arguably worse, he would burn the world down if u asked nicely <3

a/n; big big BIG thank u to @softgirlgonehaywire for having the biggest brain in the world and infecting me w this concept <33 if u pay attention while reading u can tell the exact moment i started slowly spiraling into insanity

you are five years old when you meet the prince.

five years old, a mere child, and too young to be blinded by such brilliance. too young to be where you are; curled up in a dark alley, back against a grimy brick wall, covered in bruises. like a beaten dog — scrawny and afraid. waiting for a strike that never comes.

the boy in front of you is also five years old, but you don’t know that. something in him looks older, somehow, something in the way he carries himself. like he doesn’t have anything to be afraid of. like he’s never even felt fear. he parts his lips and speaks like he has the right to, like he’s comfortable in his own skin, a radiance so blinding you could mistake him for the sun. too much for you to bear.

”does it hurt?”

the words fall on deaf ears. but you flinch, your body reacts, a tremble down your tiny spine. you hear the sound but not the words. too mesmerized, too paralyzed, unable to look away from the blue of his eyes, painted with rich watercolour hues. seeping into the world around you like ink on paper, cobalt and aquamarine and something else, something you’ve never seen before —

a blue so jarring it makes you shiver.

the boy has an innocent face. almost girlish, plump cheeks and long lashes, clean clothes and smooth skin. a little too pretty to be out here, you think, in this part of town — too pure to be anywhere near someone like you. he’s above you, that much you can tell. a pretty, innocent face, untouched by dirt or ache; the face of royalty. an entirely different species.

there’s something keen in his eyes, a contrast to his childlike features. a sharp gaze, something that sees through you, something that won’t look away. something mildly frightening. enough to have you cowering in fear, hugging your knees closer to your chest.

but then he smiles. and it’s sincere. sweet, vibrant, all honey and milk and a world you cannot reach.

a smile so captivating you take his outstretched hand, and let him drag you away to god-knows-where.

(that's how it begins. the dynamic that’ll follow you into your adult lives; satoru takes the lead, and you follow. no matter where he’s going.)

satoru gojo, as you soon come to learn, is the prince of the nation you reside in. the only child of the royal family, born with talent and prestige, fame and fortune, set to become king. a different species, indeed.

but he brings you home with him, to a castle so grand you feel as if your very presence is an insult to the architects who designed it, and convinces his parents to let you stay. it’s surprising, but you don’t protest; following him like a puppy at his trail. and he’s stubborn, insistent, demanding that he get to keep said puppy. 

the king and queen don’t care one way or another. they glance at you with apathy, and tell satoru to do what he wants — but convincing the scary and displeased castle maids takes some work. 

satoru doesn’t waver, though. he holds your hand in his, and demands that you be treated with respect.

and he wins. he always wins.

that’s how you become the prince’s playmate. raised alongside him, allowed to stay close, eat from the same food. he won’t settle for anything less. defending your honour, always, before you even know what honour means. before you care.

time passes slowly. joyously. every day is a new adventure, as you attempt to get used to the miracle that is your new life — sweet and silky, apricot blossoms and fresh peaches, duvet pillows and a bubbly laughter you didn’t know you still had. he coaxes it out of you, with every secret midnight outing, every bout of mischief he drags you both into. 

satoru has nice hands, uncalloused palms, fingers that grasp yours and don’t let go. he takes you outside, to see the stars, to catch fireflies in the dark of night on top of the hill that oversees the castle. to take a dip in the river just below it, gleaming a silver hue under the blue shade of the moon. you worry about getting in trouble, but he reassures you — the prince can do what he wants.

that might be true, but you are no prince. not even close. satoru may safeguard you, but all you’ll ever be in the eyes of the world is a stray he got to keep.

and one time, only one time, you do face the repercussions of your midnight outings. you, and you alone. a bad influence — seething words, buzzing in your ears. an angry castle maid, and a stinging pain in your cheek. blurry tears. 

but that’s an incident no one in the castle dares to speak of.

(you’ll never forget that look in his eyes.)

satoru is an odd boy. he keeps you close, always, clinging to you like he needs you to breathe. you don’t understand why, but you’ve learned not to question him. the castle guards all know you as the prince’s best friend, and some part of you knows that’s all you’ll ever amount to. but you don’t mind.

because you love him. at five years old, six years old, seven and beyond, you love him. satoru gojo, the kindest boy in the stratosphere. 

a boy who keeps finding you, no matter where you are, who tugs you along as naturally as the rise of the sun. who raids kitchen cabinets with you and always makes you laugh, little giggles and chuckles that have him beaming proudly. a boy who cleans your wounds with a serious expression, and tells you that he’ll protect you forever. 

(you tell yourself the same. that you’ll protect him forever and ever, until you run out of air to breathe. a boy so sweet you’d die for him.)

a pledge is made. you make it before you know what a pledge is. pledging to protect him, to become his sword, because even as a child you understand that his life will be difficult. you see it in the dullness that sometimes comes over his eyes, the apathy of his so-called parents, the hours he spends locked up with nothing but a pile of dusty books to keep him company. 

so you decide to become his knight. his, and his alone. 

it’s challenging. but you push through; training with another aspiring knight, miles better than you, black hair tousled by the breeze as he knocks you off your feet for the thirtieth consecutive time. wincing as the girl who sometimes watches your sparring patches you up, soft hands cleaning your wounds so tenderly that you almost choke up.

and eventually, as the apricot blossoms of the castle orchard wilt and bloom over and over in a flurry of pure white, your dream comes true. 

there’s something playful in satoru’s eyes, when he places his blade on the curve of your shoulder. something sweet and fond, and just a little bit ironic — as if you’re still seven years old, and playing house. 

you want to tell him that it isn’t a joke. that you’re serious, about this, that you’d tear your stomach open to keep him safe. but you know he’d just laugh. so you let the words clog up your throat, honey-sweet devotion sticking to the walls of your esophagus. breathing in through your nose, as he speaks. as the words you’ve waited to hear flow from his glossy lips.

when all is said and done, satoru smiles. he calls you his little knight, and you can tell that he’s teasing you. indulging you, as if he’s in on some joke that you aren’t. but you’ll take what you can get.

you call him my prince, expecting him to laugh it off, but his smile begins to fall. and a pang of ache rushes through your soul, instantaneous, guilty, although you don’t understand why.

so you keep calling him satoru. even though it’s more than a little unprofessional, and you become painfully accustomed to receiving a few judgemental looks here and there. a knight and a prince shouldn’t be so very close, they think, and you don’t disagree. but there’s nothing they can do about it, anyhow.

the prince and his knight can do what they want.

not much changes. you’re his knight, but he treats you the same as before. he’s playful, a little goofy, and you indulge him. as always. attached at the hip, bickering and bantering, bouncing off each other effortlessly. and satoru never bothers to hide your history, the soft spot he has for you; it’s in every fleeting glance, soft tilt of his head, teasing call of ah, there’s my favorite knight. 

(you’re no stranger to jealous looks. sometimes a pout on the lips of a pretty girl, a crease between the brows of one of your fellow knights. and sometimes a glare, from his fiancée — a woman he was engaged to before he was old enough to speak.

but you don’t mind. you’ve never cared what anyone but satoru thinks of you.)

satoru never loses his smile, that effortless air of confidence. the charm that makes people want to follow him, a charisma you know well. one you fell victim to at five years of age. he’s still just a prince, far from being a king, but he receives the same respect.

and that keen, sharp glimmer in his eyes never quite goes away; the hardened shell around his heart unbroken. you see it in fleeting glances, during meetings, ones he allows you to attend despite your status. when he speaks to a room of people with more power than you can imagine, his voice unwavering. back straight. elegant, serious, the presence of royalty — enough to receive respect without even trying. 

but he still shoots you a smile, easygoing, when your eyes meet. one only you can see.

as for you, the step into knighthood is a clumsy one. but you take your duties seriously, and adjust properly. a deep devotion runs through your veins, from your beating heart down to the tips of your fingers, where a sword lies clutched. you keep it close, always, ready to serve. to obey. to protect. 

all of it for one person.

all you do is for him. duels in his honour, beasts slain for his peace of mind, and he’s always there to welcome you back. wiping the blood from your cheek, tenderly, smearing his untainted skin with red; all while he looks at you softly, a coo or word of praise waltzing on the tip of his tongue. 

that’s only for when you remain unscathed, though, when the blood on your cheek isn’t your own. when you get hurt, it’s different — something begins to brew inside his eyes, and you can’t tell what it is. but he insists on bandaging you himself, paying no mind to your meek protests.

sometimes, you’re more reckless than usual. your injuries worse. sometimes he looks upset, angry with you, and doesn’t speak. you don’t, either.

a strange look comes over his eyes, every now and then. when you get down on one knee, to kiss his hand, the metal of the ring on his finger — and if you look up, you’ll see it. simmering inside those blue depths, something just as fond as it is sad. troubled, you think.

(something tells you he’d kneel, too, if only you’d let him.)

the bond between you remains intact. even as you begin to shoulder more responsibilities, more duties, even though you don’t have as much freedom as you used to. even though you seem to get less time to spend with each other every single day. but you stay together, even so; just like when you were children, running around and causing trouble, more than you could get away with now. 

despite everything, satoru has grown up into a fine man. and you couldn't be prouder.

“do you think i look good in black? be honest.”

you throw him a glance. curious, somewhat perplexed, eyeing him up and down.

satoru is wearing a white blouse, puffy sleeves and a low neckline, showing off the skin of his bare chest. no black colours to be seen. you think back to that banquet he attended last month, forced into an expensively tailored black coat. a corset around his waist. and then you hum.

“sure you do.”

”suguru said it makes me look like a try-hard,” he scoffs, crossing his arms. tilting his head in your direction. ”do you think he’s jealous?”

”definitely.”

a moment passes. 

satoru narrow his eyes, and gives you a dubious look. clicking his tongue. ”… something tells me you aren’t taking this seriously.”

”i am,” you assure him, a lazy smile at your lips. meeting his gaze, that displeased little pout. still smoothing a brush down the mane of your horse, the smell of hay soothing your muddled senses. ”just tired. you look good in anything. you know that.”

he hums. silent, the sound of a spring breeze filling in the gaps.

it’s late. outside the stables, the world is engulfed by a dark sky, almost too murky to see anything. hazy stars glimmer in the distance, and a sense of fatigue gnaws at your bones. it’s been a long day, and yet you’re here — doing even more work. just a little more.

and satoru’s right there with you. even though he’s just sitting there, on the floor, not lifting a finger to help. not that he has to. insistent on spending some quality time with you, keeping you company. just talking and munching on the food he snuck in, bread and cheese and an expensive bottle of wine, that he leaves completely untouched. he tries to leave some of everything else for you, though. keyword being tries.

a sense of peace simmers in the air. palpable, almost enough to taste, as midnight air streams in from the opened doors, chilly and pleasant on your skin. ruffling the thin fabric of your clothing.

and it’s nice, you think, just to have satoru there — talking about this and that, complaining about all the annoying people he had to meet yesterday, yawning every now and then. nostalgic. like this, it almost feels like you're still kids. back when you spent every single hour of the day by each other’s side.

it’s been a long time since you got the chance to speak like this. satoru’s been busy, and so have you. more so than usual.

”are they running you ragged?” he suddenly asks, and you don’t realize you’ve spent the last minute staring into space. resuming your brushing, with steady hands, but turning your head to meet his gaze.

”need me to…” he makes a slicing motion with his hand, right over his throat. a glint of mischief in his eyes. ”handle it?”

and you scoff. amused, but answering him seriously; unsure if his question is all-together humorous, if it doesn’t carry a hint of something genuine too. ”of course not.”

there’s a weariness in the way you blink. the way you pet the animal in front of you, having finished getting the dirt and blood clots out of her mane. she lays down in her stall, and you smile. turning around to rest your back against the wooden border between you, a respite for your aching bones.

it gets just a little bit tiring, sometimes. fighting, patrolling, helping townsfolk. protecting the castle, making sure everything is in order. killing whatever needs to be killed. cleaning the stained silver of your sword.

but…

”it’s my duty,” you answer, seriously, and it comes out sounding like a vow. because it is. 

you avoid his gaze, but you can feel it, as you pick up the wine bottle by your feet and pop the cork. soft moonlight flits in from the windows, illuminating the green glass. a chartreuse glow that reminds you of fireflies, shimmering in your grasp, and for some reason it soothes your heart.

satoru only hums, far from approving. popping a piece of cheese into his mouth. 

after a brief pause, he continues. ”you don’t have to be so serious all the time, you know.” his voice comes out a little raspy. it’s got a certain tilt to it, one that means he wants you to take him seriously. ”not around me.”

you take a sip of the wine. expensive, blood red. it’s too sweet for your taste, heavy on your tongue.

”… i’m less serious with you than i am with others.”

satoru sits up a little straighter.

”yeah?” he grins, a kind of satisfaction blooming in his eyes. cerulean and sweet. almost smug, you think, like the cat that got the cream. ”that’s good. you really should loosen up, though.”

a glance. fleeting, just to see him — but he isn’t looking at you. he’s looking outside, through the opened window, at the sway of the apricot trees. white petals flitting in, landing by his feet. in his hair.

when his eyes meet yours, they’re smoothed over by that something you can never put your finger on. a blend between longing and fondness. crinkled at the edges.

”you’ve got a pretty smile,” he exhales. ”be a shame not to show it off.”

when you look at him, really look at him, you see it. that fatigue. it slips out when he talks to you, a sincere way of speaking that never quite allows him to hide his emotions. you hear the hint of a yawn, can practically feel the weight on his shoulders. the weight of an entire nation. a weight he was always bound to carry.

(you could never bring yourself to be even remotely alright with it.)

“have you been doing okay?” you ask, and satoru blinks. there’s a soft look in your eyes, as they trail over the contours of his face, his lashes catching the light of the stars. an innocent, pretty face. but he looks tired. frail. like he hasn’t been sleeping properly.

something rotten bubbles up inside your throat.

”they’re running you ragged, too,” you say, hand settling on your hip. where your sword usually is. unconsciously, on instinct — or maybe just to make him laugh. ”need me to step in?”

satoru chuckles. husky, mellow. dripping with soft amusement.

”settle down, little knight.”

a moment passes. silent. his eyes flutter shut, for a second, and a breath slips from his lips. almost a sigh. in the distance, you hear the quiet coo of an owl. 

”of course,” he eventually answers, opening his eyes. and you think he looks a little resigned. but smiling. self-deprecating, you think, although he’d like you to assume otherwise. ”all of it is just preparation, anyhow.” 

a flimsy smile, as he looks into your knowing eyes. ”it’s what i was born for, wasn’t it?”

you purse your lips.

“… i don’t think so.”

another chuckle. a little delighted, this time. 

“yeah,” he cranes his neck, emitting a low groan. “me neither.” something sweet blossoms in his eyes, sweet like the crunch of the apple he bites into, juice dribbling down his chin. ”but it is what it is.”

a beat. you part your lips, trying to find the right words. ”tell me if there's anything i can do,” you settle on. the same words you always choose. ”anything at all.”

satoru smiles. “right.” his voice carries a teasing tilt; almost a purr. ”there’s nothing you wouldn't do for me, hm?” 

“— there isn’t.” you smile. “nothing at all.”

he blinks. a little dazed, for a second, and you watch as his ears redden. slight, enough for you to notice, but gone before you can bring it up. a contemplation smooths over his features. and a pleasant breeze flits in, ruffling his hair, apricot petals kissing up his skin. he looks at the apple in his hands.

then he sighs. placing his palms on his knees, and rising to his feet. his arms twitch, muscular beneath the flimsy blouse, and you gulp. although you aren’t sure why.

“alright, then.” his eyes flicker in the dim light, sharp and decisive. he crosses over to you with long strides. “there is something you can do.”

when he’s close enough, satoru reaches out his hand; opening his palm. a silent beckoning. you look at him, not saying a word. his expression is unreadable. 

then you intertwine your fingers with his. unquestioningly, even in the midst of your confusion.

(it reminds you of that day. when he pulled you up to your feet, held your hand in his and refused to let go. leading you to the promise of something better.)

no matter where he goes, you follow.

and satoru grins. it’s sweet, just like back then, a smile so vibrant you wish you could tuck it into your sleeve and keep it there forever. he curls his fingers around yours, gentle, fondness bubbling up inside his eyes. for a second, you think you see the sun.

“come with me.”

at first, you truly aren’t sure where he’s going to take you. hand in hand, you begin to walk, feeling the midnight breeze nip at your skin. beyond the castle walls, away from the hustle and bustle of the nearby town. satoru holds your hand and smiles, tousled tufts of white hair swaying with the wind, leading you to a place you know well. a place where the air tastes like freedom.

it’s the river you used to play by as children.

gleaming a solemn silver under the evanescent moon, framed by bushes of lilacs, blooming indigo and violet and pure white. butterflies flutter about, almost glittering, blue wings settling down on the leaves. the scent of nectar hangs heavy in the air. on top of the hill just above you, you think you can spot tiny little glowing dots; green and yellow, buzzing around. dancing merrily, now that there aren’t any troublemaker children left to trap them.

satoru lets go of your hand, to roll up his sleeves. the hems of his pants. then he’s taking a step forward, dangerously close to the edge of the river, and you can tell what he’s thinking.

“ah — wait —“ you stumble forward, to grab hold of his arm. a worried crease forms between your brows. “that's dangerous, satoru. you could slip and fall.”

he turns to face you, a teasing mirth in his eyes. smirking lightly. “oh? is that so?” he hums, a slight tilt of his head. then he’s stepping closer, so close you feel his warm breath on your skin, but you will yourself not to step back. “wanna know what i think?”

he leans forward, just a little further, warm air brushing against the shell of your ear. flushing beneath it. his voice comes out low, a sleepy lilt, dangerously raspy. hand ghosting over your waist.

”i think you’re too scared to get in.”

you blink.

”… really?” you deadpan, stepping back a tad. satoru looks pleased with himself. awfully amused.

“really,” he purrs. “you were always like that. could barely dip your toes in without shivering.” he reaches out to pinch your cheek, a coo on the tip of his tongue. ”scaredy-cat.”

you raise your brow. unimpressed.

satoru steps back. inching closer to the river, until a quiet splash tells you that he’s standing in the water. lapping up his bare legs, not enough to even reach his knees — it felt a lot scarier when you were smaller. he’s still holding your hand, very loosely, fingertips ghosting your own. 

“c’mon,” he coaxes. soft, encouraging, a playful glimmer in his eyes. teeth catching the light of the moon. “or is it too much for my brave knight to handle?”

satoru laughs, when you furrow your brows, attempting to hide the flush of your cheeks. a warmth spreads through your chest at the term of endearment, and you bite your lip. melting a little. 

his knight. his favourite knight.

“.. fine,” you tangle your fingers in his own. sighing deeply, taking a tentative step forward. “just be careful, okay? i don't want to deal with your whining if you hit your head.”

“ah, but you’d kiss it better, no? if i asked?” he flashes you a honeyed grin, eyes rich with amusement. you hope the darkness of the night is enough to hide the red of your ears.

a grumble buzzes in your throat, locked behind your pursed lips. something in your jaw goes tight.

the man in front of you softens. parting his glossy lips. he says your name; slowly, thoughtfully, as if savouring every syllable. dragging them out, speaking with a lilt that tells you he’s being sincere.

“— loosen up. it’s just you and me.”

so you do.

and it’s odd. how easy it is to get lost in him, the watercolour of his eyes, the brightness of his grin. how pliantly you let him whisk you away. before you know it, you’re playing in the water — because satoru splashed you, laughing at the shock on your face and the shiver of your spine, and you had no choice but to retaliate. 

the sound of his laughter fills the air, sweet and bubbly. deep and giddy. strands of hair stick to his wet skin, droplets running down his neck, but his grin never falters. bright and toothy, boyish. he looks younger than you ever remember him being. like there’s no weight on his shoulders, none at all, only soaked fabric weighing him down. a flimsy, see-through blouse.

you think it’s ridiculous. two grown adults, splashing each other like children. but his melodic giggles are contagious, and before you know it, you’re laughing too — and satoru looks at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. through dewy eyelashes, with cerulean eyes that melt into the pale blue of the moon and the silver of the river. filled with wonder.

a particularly ruthless splash knocks him off balance, and he has the instinct to reach for your arm; stumbling, slipping, dragging you down with him. you land on his chest, cheek against his neck, his pulse against your skin. erratic, joyous. fluttering happily.

his chest is heaving. lifting you up and down, a little, rhythmic and comforting. 

a sudden yelp slips past your lips, as you get snapped back into reality, into the realization that you basically just pushed your own prince into a river and used his unfairly soft chest as a cushion. a mumbled string of apologies escapes you, as you attempt to get up, scrambling to find footing.

but satoru wraps his arms around you. tucking you under his chin, keeping you flush against his chest. nice and still. 

and then he sighs. a blissful little breath, fatigue seeping out of him. into the air. 

“stay like this, for a bit,” he rasps. ”it’s okay.”

his heartbeat resounds in your ear. warm and rapid, like claps of thunder, coaxing you into closing your eyes. satoru has always felt so very safe. the water of the river is cold, seeping through the fabric of your clothing and sticking to your skin, but…

(he’s warm.)

silence. and then, a whisper; frail, slipping past his lips, gently slicing the silence in half. softer than you've ever heard him speak.

“i missed this.”

…

nuzzling into his neck, you breathe him in. he smells like sandalwood and dried roses, buzzing with warmth, heavy arms around your waist. solid. when did he get so big? you used to be taller. 

then again — that was a long time ago, wasn’t it?

“… me too.”

“missed you,” he continues, his jaw on top of your head. it’s a sincere confession; childlike in its innocence. “missed hearing you laugh like that. feels like it’s been so long.” 

you stay silent. unsure of what to say. satoru continues, and you let his husky voice carry you away, the tremor of his chest running through your entire body. soothing like a lullaby. 

”we haven't had much time together, lately. i’ve been worried,” he admits, and something about it strikes you as rather sheepish. a little ashamed. ”it bothers me that i can't be there to watch over you. make sure you're treated with respect, you know.”

a sleepy chuckle. muffled into his shoulder, almost a scoff — slightly exasperated. little droplets cling to his skin, sticking to your lips.

”relax, your majesty,” you tease. ”i promise the other knights aren’t bullying me.” 

satoru pouts. you can hear it, when he speaks. ”i’m serious,” he huffs, squeezing you lightly. ”and it’s not them i’m worried about. suguru’s there.”

another scoff threatens to escape your throat. you want to tell him the only knight that should be suspected of bullying you is suguru himself, but before you can even think to part your lips satoru’s beaten you to it.

”they all treat you so carelessly.” there’s something cold to his voice, an irritation tugging at his teeth. oddly seething. ”like you exist to serve them. like you’re disposable.” 

a moment passes, heavy with a silence so thick you don’t dare break it. when he speaks again, it’s an order. a demand. 

”i want you to tell me if they go too far.”

silence. again. you can do nothing but gnaw at the flesh of your bottom lip. 

(he isn’t wrong. but that’s simply what it means to be a knight — half-human, half-weapon. an unattainable ideal, stuffed inside a suit of armor.

when a weapon breaks under the force of a slash, the only choice is to throw it away. that much you know.)

”it’s fine. i’m not that fragile,” you weakly protest, but it’s not enough. satoru huffs.

”you’re a human being,” he reminds you. strangely stern, for once. chastising. ”you deserve to be treated with respect. knight or not. fragile or not.”

a deep inhale. he breathes in, and the rise of his chest carries you with it. his voice buzzes with something, a slumbering kind of fury. one you haven’t heard in years. 

“if anyone gives you trouble — if anyone hurts you… if anyone makes you feel unsafe,” he almost spits the words, like they’re venomous, sacrilegious. ”tell me. i’ll destroy them.”

silence. and then, a chuckle.

that’s all you can manage; that one meek little breath. resisting the urge to cower, at the love that clings to every word he speaks. angered affection. a promise, dangerously genuine, like a growing wildfire.

”i can take care of myself, satoru,” you remind him. hoping it’ll soothe him. ”you know that.”

but his grip around you only tightens. gentle, even still. as if you’re made of glass, a firefly cupped in his palms. he lets the silence linger, for a moment.

and then; 

“i’d do it, you know.”

a questioning hum. “do what?” you ask, though some part of you already knows. 

satoru’s reply is instantaneous. an arrow hitting its target, cold and concise, decisive. frighteningly honest. almost a growl, flattened, a hint of teeth behind his soft lips. ”destroy them. anyone.”

”i’d tear this nation apart if you asked me to.”

…

(ah. that look in his eyes — one you remember well. strung together with blurred memories, the sting of a palm on your cheek, a castle maid you never saw again.)

you search for the words. biting back a gulp, hesitant. “… i wouldn’t.”

“i know.” satoru yawns, breathing you in, voice shifting back into the softness you’re so used to. your shoulders relax. “but i would. if that’s what you wanted.”

and it’s a little scary, the depths of his devotion. but you’re almost certain you’d do the same for him. maybe you're both a little sick in the head, a little too eager to serve your hearts on a silver platter.

“it bothers me, you know.” satoru breaks you out of your thoughts. gentle, a soft lull of his tongue. ”when you get hurt. when you fight for me.”

“i know,” you murmur. you’ve seen it in his eyes, a worry he’s not as good at hiding as he thinks. ”i want to, though.”

“and i want you to be safe.” a chuckle bubbles up in his throat, just a little bit rueful. “you never listen, do you? so stubborn, i swear. always worrying me.”

you bite down on your lip. he sounds… a little sad.

“… sorry.”

a moment’s pause. then he shakes his head; cradling you close. “it’s fine. i’m here. always,” his palm runs down the small of your back. ”in case anything happens.”

he inhales. ”and when i become king —” a beat. he swallows thickly. ”you’ll never have to worry again. no one will be able to touch you.”

”satoru,” you crack a small smile. amused. raising a single eyebrow. ”i’m not worried. i can protect myself.”

”i know. but i’m saying you don’t have to.”

and then he’s pulling back. just a little bit, just enough to see you. cheek smushed against his chest, comfortable and soft, more unguarded than he’s seen you these past few months. it’s enough to get his heart racing.

enough to have him reaching out, fingertips ghosting over your hand, tangling your fingers together. bringing it to his glossy lips. a chaste kiss, brimming with unspoken murmurs of love.

”— i’ll protect you forever,” he vows. ”remember?”

there’s devotion in his eyes. heavy, a vow he’ll never quite be able to voice in full. something that makes the blue of his eyes glow even brighter, cerulean, aquamarine, a blue so jarring it makes your heart beat faster than it should.

you blink. starstruck, caught in a daze, lost within that sea of blue. distracted by his warm breath on your cold skin, the soft whisper voiced against your knuckle. something shy blossoms in your chest, enough to have you averting your gaze. 

“... you really don’t care about the dynamic here, do you?” is all you can reply. a meek scoff, a weak attempt at hiding how flustered you are. “i’m the knight. i’m your protector.”

“oh, i know.” a smile sticks to his lips, playful, the back of his hand caressing your cheek. a coo on his tongue. “my little hero. what would i ever do without you?”

a roll of your eyes. satoru chuckles. in the distance, you hear crickets chirping, a breeze rustling the lilac bushes all around you. he’s still cradling your cheek, smoothing over your wet skin, brushing a drop of water away with his thumb. clinging to your bottom eyelash.

“i don't get it, though.”

you blink. when you meet his eyes, satoru looks a little perplexed. muttering under his breath, absently rubbing circles over your cheekbone. you resist the urge to close your eyes again, biting back a blissful sigh.

”a prince shouldn’t care for his knight…” he repeats, like he’s heard the string of words a million times before. ”the idea of that. i don’t understand it. never have.”

the smile that blossoms on his lips is soft, indescribably so, as if he’s looking at the most precious thing in his life. rich and warm, like wine in your veins, nectar on your tongue, a chest pressed against your own. dripping with fondness.

satoru tilts his head, as if in confusion — but he’s smiling. “what’s so strange about wanting to protect the one dearest to my heart?” 

…

his hand slips from your skin, a warmth leaving your cheek. only to search for your hand, again, cradling it in his larger palm. placing it right over his chest, against the soaked material of his blouse. ”feel that?”

you do. a rhythmic rise and fall, a soft flutter from the depths of his ribcage. as if it’s itching to break out, out of the cage that binds it, the hardened shell around it. a heart too big for his body.

”it’s you,” satoru whispers. ”all for you.”

a moment passes.

silently, you lean forward; tucking yourself into his neck. into that comforting warmth, wet skin beginning to dry, the steady thrum of his heart right by your ear. you listen. not saying a word, afraid of what might leave the confines of your strangled throat. it feels as if your heart has begun to crawl upwards, sweet honey blocking your airways, and all you can do it feel it pulse. 

all while satoru gazes at you, fondly. placing a big palm on the back of your head.

fireflies dance in the distance. butterflies flutter about. strings of lilacs bloom under the glow of the moon. and satoru’s heartbeat never changes, never falls out of tune, a sound you would recognize even if the sky were to shatter, if the world were to end. the sound that saved you, the boy who dragged you out of hell. into his light. 

satoru gojo is everything. he’s the beat of your heart, the silver of your sword, the reason you believe in goodness. he’s your prince, your favorite person, and you’ll protect him until your very last breath. until the world runs out of oxygen.

a boy so sweet you’d die for him.

(a boy so sweet he wouldn’t want you to.)

a shiver runs down his spine — sudden, a shudder of his bones, and a quiet little sniffle. you feel it, hear it, and don’t attempt to bite back the fond smile that slips into the curve of your lips.

”c’mon,” you beckon, almost a coo, placing your palms on his chest to hoist yourself up. ”let’s go home.”

but satoru shakes his head. and then he traps you again, strong arms around your waist, pressing you against him. you could escape — you’re almost certain you’re stronger — but you don’t quite have the heart to. ”it’s fine,” he huffs. almost a whine. ”stay.”

”you’ll get sick.”

”i never get sick.”

a deep exhale. tumbling from your lips, just a little bit humorous. mostly exasperated. ”that can change,” you mumble, fingertips dancing along his exposed skin. absentmindedly.

a smile. one you can’t see, but you hear it clear as day. he sounds content, like he’s got everything he needs right in front of him. ”some things never change,” he informs you. pleased. ”just look at us.”

and he’s right. so you don’t say anything else. 

but your heartbeat quickens, only for a beat or two, and you’re almost certain he feels it. if he does, he opts not to tease you for once, and you’re grateful. and so the silence lingers. as if time has begun to freeze, into an eternal dusk, a string of silent seconds. broken only by low melodic chirping from the faraway fields, his soft breaths in your ear. 

until satoru suddenly chuckles.

“hey,” he hums, shifting a little, the river swaying around you. pulling back to meet your gaze, eyes crinkled and voice raspy. “wanna know a secret?”

you raise your head. a dubious look on your face, one that has him breathing out an amused puff of air, like you’re getting ready to hear a bad joke. “... what is it?”

before the words have fully left your throat, he’s resting his forehead against yours — breath fanning over your lips. a pleasant shiver trails down your spine, at the close proximity, goosebumps spreading across your chilled skin. only exacerbated by the whisper that follows, so quiet you almost don’t know if you heard him correctly. childlike in its sincerity. a sunlaced smile woven in between the vowels.

“i think i was born to meet you.”

(a sentiment so sweet you barely even feel the warmth of his lips meeting yours.)

"𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄…?"

[𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒] 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 gets a bit too aggressive, but how can he not at that adorable face?

cw: none♡

a/n: testing out a new layout, lets see if i like it :D

you are so adorable."

You scowl at Gojo as he scrunches up your face, his hands gently lifting your lips up as he smooshes your face around, his blue eyes staring into your own.

It was the third time today.

And the fifteenth time this whole week.

and it was only a monday.

"oWw, 'Toru! thwat herurts-"

Not even paying any mind to your muffled words of protest, Gojo instead pinched your nose, then pinched your cheeks, his lips tilting up into a grin as you attempted to scowl.

"Boop!"

Then he booped your lip-

Which was his fatal mistake.

"OWC-"

You grin up at him as he quickly lets go of your face, your teeth sunk deep into the skin of his finger.

You had an excuse because 1.

He's your husband.

2. he was being insufferably clingy today (as he is every other day)

and the last excuse.

3. because you wanted to (HA)

"What was that for??"

Gojo whined as you finally let go of his finger, deep imprints of your teeth still visible, as he stared at you with a betrayed look of concern and slight fear.

I mean, he was used to dealing with your crazy antics, but this-

Was actually normal for you.

Why was he surprised-?

The only thing he was surprised about was the fact that you didn't try to break his finger into two halves.

"Because you were being mean!"

You scowled at him and harshly poked his cheek yelping as Gojo grabbed your wrist and tugged you towards him with a cocky smirk.

"Nooooo, that's because you were being so adorable and so squishy an-"

Gojo wisely shut his mouth with an audible click as you sent him a glare, his hand sneakily making its way up your waist.

"Gojo shut u-"

And then he took the chance to smash your mouth with his, successfully cutting off the scolding you were about to give him, two large hands gently wrapping around your waist, giving you a small pinch.

And he smiled as he heard you yelp against his lips, your hands reaching up to tangle in his snow-white hair, the kiss getting more intense.

"even your lips are squish- OW-"

(he got inturrupted as you bit down on his lip, and for the rest of the day he walked around with two bite marks on his lip and finger)

taglist✨: @no-b10g-here @anxious-chick @aleluvsuu @funky-writes @oneofthesevensins @ladywinterfell13 @kazhyloveslaw @dazaisms @cyb3r-c44t @princessluvz @notherenortherejustaway @okaydokeyyo @iheartamora @haloswrld @churipu @lysaray @olivianyx @desihopelessromantic @@kiri1330

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how to (properly) make tomato soup | gojo satoru

.. it’s three pm, you’re sick, and satoru takes it upon himself to take care of you (except there’s one problem: he does not possess any shred of culinary ability whatsoever).

content: 1.7k words, no explicit gender mention but pet names like angel and baby are used, gojo being silly while geto is absolutely done w his bullshit, reader has a migraine, mainly a self indulgent comfort/crack fic

when you feel the pounding in your ears again, tears start to form in your eyes. fuck, you just can’t help it.

you’re tired. so tired of the constant headaches–the migraines that plague your days and make staying awake completely unbearable.

the familiar ache settles in, but you can tell that this time, it’s much worse than usual. the nauseating pressure that can be described as thousands of needles pricking the back of your eyes, the blinding light in the room that’s assaulting your vision, the overwhelming sounds around you that are so intense to the point where you want to do nothing but cry.

so… that’s exactly what you do.

you succumb to the pain, letting out a choked sob that arguably just makes everything worse. tears slowly make their way down your cheeks, and you put your head in your hands to simultaneously muffle your cries and shield yourself from the light around you. you want to turn off the light. your head screams at you to turn off the light, but you’re so dizzy that you can barely even move.

“y/n?”

-

the first call of your name barely registers amidst the ringing in your ears. you hear it when your name is said a second time, though, and you feel yourself coming back to your surroundings.

he’s… here.

your boyfriend, satoru. yeah, he’s here.

head still buried in your hands, you carefully move one of your fingers to peek at him. he’s crouched down in front of you, a look of concern on his face. he’s saying something…

“where does it hurt, baby?” you’re still so stunned that you can’t find the strength in you to speak. so you close your eyes and point to the area where it hurts the most, sniffling. “is it okay if i massage that area, angel?”

throughout the midst of all your pain and tears, your heart manages to swell. it swells for satoru, because he’s here–he’s present, and he cares about you.

you manage out a small nod, eyes still shut. you let out a shaky breath—a breath that you just found out you were holding, since everything hurt so much that you forgot to breathe.

satoru massages your temples gently, even making an effort to softly wipe the tears off of your face. he feels your forehead with the back of his hand and frowns at your temperature. you’re starting to burn up. “s more than a headache, baby. i’m gonna take you to the bed, okay?”

this was going to be a long afternoon.

he carries you bridal style to your bedroom and gently places you on the mattress. he turns off the lights and draws the blinds shut, providing a welcome respite from the sensory assault just moments ago. you exhale a sigh of relief, slowly opening your eyes as you wipe the dried tears off your face. he climbs into the bed with you, and you instinctively cling to him for support as you wrap your arms around his neck. it hurts. everything hurts, but satoru’s presence makes it slightly more bearable. “my poor angel. have you been overworking yourself lately?”

you bury your face in his neck, finding comfort in being close to your boyfriend. he presses a feather-light kiss on your forehead, and it makes you want to cry again. “maybe. the headaches are getting worse.”

“you should take it easier on yourself. i can’t have you cryin’ like this. not on my watch,” he remarks, making sure to keep his voice low as not to overwhelm you. “y’know, if your migraines were a person, i’d make sure to hollow purple ‘em. no hesitation.”

a soft laugh escapes you, but you regret it almost immediately as it just intensifies the pain. he lets out an apology, but you just huff.

you close your eyes again, exhaustion taking over as your eyelids grow heavier. satoru slowly releases himself from your vice grip, much to your chagrin. you try and weakly protest, but he just shushes you gently. “just go to sleep, baby. i’ll be right back, okay? when was the last time you ate?”

“hm… i remember having a little bit of breakfast when i woke up-”

“alright.” he says, making a mental note that he should make food. “i’m going to go make you something, okay? i promise i’ll be back soon.”

“...don’t burn down the kitchen, please.”

“i can’t promise that, though.”

-

“you found the soup packet? okay, finally. now you just turn on the stove…”

satoru’s a little embarrassed to say that he doesn’t know how to cook.

growing up, he’s had practically everything served to him on a silver platter, so he never had to worry about making his own food. and frankly, despite your statement earlier being a joke, he is genuinely afraid to burn the house down. so, he has his best friend suguru on a video call right now, teaching him–gojo satoru, a twenty-eight-year-old man–how to make instant soup.

“the stove?”

“yeah…? don’t tell me you don’t know-”

“-no, no. i know how to turn the stove on. of course i do.” it feels like he’s trying to convince himself more than suguru. the camera shows satoru in his kitchen, sweating profusely and glaring at the stove like it’s his biggest enemy. satoru has fought countless curses in his life, has had near-death experiences multiple times, and even faced the king of curses himself, but he thinks that everything pales in comparison to this task. he tries to turn the knob, but it won’t budge. “what the hell?-“

“satoru-” it seems like the azure-eyed man doesn’t hear him as he keeps trying to turn on the stove (suguru swears he hears him muttering the phrase “with this treasure i summon”, but that’s not even his technique). he can’t help but facepalm for the hundredth time during the duration of this call. “satoru!”

he finally gets his attention, and satoru looks at his phone and sees geto with a look that screams “are you fucking kidding me?”—or really, just a look of utter disappointment. “you’re turning the stove the wrong way.”

“...”

he turns the knob the opposite way, and the burner sets ablaze instantly.

“oh, yeah… um, i definitely knew that.”

“satoru, how do you survive whenever you’re not on a mission?”

“sometimes i think about that too, really. i think it’s because y/n is the one who always cooks.”

“you think i can’t tell already?”

-

much to both of their surprise, satoru managed to make a pot of tomato soup. it only took him approximately forty-five minutes. satoru seems so proud of himself, meanwhile suguru looks so ready to block his number and never talk to him again.

he pours some of the soup into a bowl, and places it on a tray. he also takes a few painkillers from the medicine cabinet–along with a bottle of water. he thanks suguru for helping him, and is about to hang up but stops short when his best friend freezes. “wait, hold on. did you turn off the stove?”

and after making suguru swear on his life to never speak of this event to you and airing out the house to get rid of the smell of smoke, gojo satoru, “the strongest”, thinks he’s the first ever man to somehow burn a pot full of soup.

“it’s an impressive feat, really.” he claims.

suguru just says that he should never be allowed near a kitchen ever again, and satoru actually finds it in himself to silently agree.

-

an hour has passed, and he sets the tray on the nightstand, relieved that the past hour of his life is finally over, never wanting to do that ever again. you’re sleeping soundly on the bed, and he almost doesn’t have the heart to wake you up, but he knows that you have to eat something. he turns the nightlight on and gently taps you on the shoulder as you wake up with a stir. “toru? s’that you?”

“it’s me. can you wake up for me, baby? i promise you can sleep again after, but you need to eat.” when you slowly sit up from your sleeping position, he places the tray on your lap and softly coaxes you to eat. you take a spoonful of soup into your mouth, relishing in the flavor as you’re just now realizing how hungry you are.

“this is good,” you say, letting out a smile. the nap helped you come back to your senses a little, and you can finally breathe a little easy now that the pounding in your head has eased. “didn’t know you could make this.”

“yeah, well, you better savor it.” cause i’m never making that again.

when you finish the soup, you swallow a few painkillers while taking a greedy gulp of water from the bottle on the tray.

just in case the pain comes back, you think. though you really, really wish that it wouldn’t.

satoru sets the tray on the nightstand, and you settle back into the covers, wanting to just sleep the rest of the day away. satoru follows not long after, turning off the nightlight and letting out a yawn.

you bury your face in his neck once more, kissing him on the cheek. “thank you, for um—for all of this.”

“s nothing. just promise that you won’t overwork yourself again, okay?” he says, carefully caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“i’ll try not to.”

“hey, you can’t say just that. you have to say, ‘i promise not to overwork myself again, toru. i love you, and thank you for the tomato soup.’” he says while poorly imitating your voice, and you can’t help but laugh.

“okay, okay. i promise not to overwork myself again, love. i love you so, so much.” you say while peppering kisses all over his face, and he’s so glad that the lights are off so that you’re unable to see how his cheeks are beet red. “thank you for taking care of me… and for the soup. it was good.”

and as your eyelids begin to grow heavy once more, satoru thinks that his efforts aren’t in vain after all. because the sight of you, finding comfort in his presence, stirs a little bit of determination from within him. and maybe, just maybe, he’d take it upon himself to learn how to properly cook, not just (partially burnt) instant soup, but a real meal for the next time that you’re feeling like this.

and as he watches your chest rise up and down as you sleep, he can’t help but whisper, “yeah. next time, i’ll make you more than just soup. i’ll cook something special, just for you. ‘nd i won’t burn the pot again, either.”

because for you, satoru would do anything as long as he gets to see you happy. and part of that includes learning how to (properly) make tomato soup… and more.

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐝! 𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹

featuring. sukuna ryomen x reader

warnings. sukuna wanted a son, but got a daughter instead (he's smitten for her shh), sukuna is modern af bye he knows how to use a phone ok, reader is called "wife", ooc sukuna bye

note. ok listen, i've been having a girl dad sukuna brainrot lately. and i even gave out a req to @rrairey (u go check out her works rn) — but i just had to write something about girl dad sukuna jsjdksjks it's on my mind 25/8 and i can't stop unless i actually write abt him (i'm lying, he's still going to be in my mind bye).

girl dad! sukuna who initially wanted a son but when he finds out he's going to be having a daughter instead, he didn't know how to feel. he thought that if he had a son, he could at least play "rough" with him. it's sukuna, he doesn't know what soft is.

girl dad! sukuna who has to secretly watch tutorial videos on the most random thing like "how to play nicely with your daughter" or "how to be nice to your daughter". but also searches up for things like "easy hairstyles to give your daughter for beginners", when your daughter isn't even born yet.

girl dad! sukuna who hates to admit it but he's pretty worried about having a daughter. finally shoves his ego down his throat and comes up to you to talk about it, and you encouraged that he's going to be a good father — but still, he's worried.

"ryo, you're worried about what exactly?" you asked the male, brushing his hair.

"not being a good father." he replies, leaning into your touch with a big frown on his face, grumbling under his breath slightly about how embarrassed he is to be so fragile in front of his own wife.

"baby, you're going to be the best father."

although your words were supposed to be encouraging, and he did feel a bit of burden lift off of his shoulders — the male still couldn't help but to worry about his unborn daughter.

girl dad! sukuna who complains about your pregnancy cravings and how his daughter is a weird baby. despite that, he will go out of his way to get you what you wanted, not caring if it was two in the morning, or five in the morning. he will get it for you and your growing daughter inside your belly.

girl dad! sukuna who grows anxious when your due date was inching closer. he took a break off from work and devoted his time to look after you, especially since you were walking for two right now. even if you did tell your husband that you were fine — he still thinks it's his job to look after you and your daughter.

"damn it brat, stop moving so much. you'll hurt yourself," he gently tugs on your arm, directing you to the couch, "what'dya want?"

"sausages and blueberry jam . . ." you tell him nonchalantly, missing the look of disgust on his face.

". . . just stay there." he walks a few steps before turning back, "don't move."

girl dad! sukuna who watches labor videos only to focus on the husbands and what they were doing in it so he could try to take notes and searches for what he should get ready for labor, or if he could do anything as a husband for his wife during labor. the results didn't ease his worries — they added up his worries. like adding fuel to the fire, the internet tells him that giving birth was the second most painful thing after getting burned alive.

girl dad! sukuna who already thought of names for your daughter and even buys things for her. telling you that he'd be out to grab a few things and then coming back with a crib set, toys, or even a baby walker. he even got a baby strap for both you and him to use, picking out the most random motives like skulls and fires.

"ryo, why did you pick that motive?" you asked, eyeing the baby strap that had white skulls all over.

"our daughter will like that. i know it." he retorts.

girl dad! sukuna who looked as calm as a cucumber but internally panics the most when your water broke. he grabs the bag that he had packed, following a youtube tutorial and helped you get into the car so that the both of you can finally drive off to the hospital. he holds your hand tightly along the way, showing his worry as he "tries" to follow driving laws (which he ended up driving past the speed limit and had to get a ticket in the hospital).

girl dad! sukuna who had to pay a ticket as you were tended in a hospital room (you didn't know about this and he didn't tell you about it so you won't worry). the doctor telling both you and him that the labor procedure will have to wait up to a few hours as they proceeded with "watchful waiting" after they checked on the baby's condition and yours so they could see if it was safe for you to give birth normally.

girl dad! sukuna who waited those long hours with you as you laid on the bed, telling him how nervous you are. and all the bad possibilities that could happen (he searched that up too), he tells you to stop saying those kind of things. sukuna wasn't angry — he just didn't want you to stress so much, rubbing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb to soothe you. he didn't let go until the doctor came back to finally do something.

girl dad! sukuna who was inside the delivery room with you, even after telling you that he won't come inside a few months ago. holds onto your hand (which you were holding onto tightly as the procedure goes on for hours), he winces — but he didn't care about his hand right now, he only cares about you and his daughter. brushing your hair lightly, mumbling out hushed praises to you (unknowingly, it just comes out), wipes away your sweat with his bare fingers and pressing kisses onto your face every single time he feels your hand clenching around his.

"jus' a bit more, pretty." he whispers, kissing your knuckles multiple times before moving on to kiss your forehead, "a bit more."

girl dad! sukuna who almost bursts into tears when he heard the loud cry of your daughter, but blinked his tears back. peering slightly at your worn out face. he tells you how he's proud of you (spoiler: he hates it if you reminded him about it in the future).

"y'hear that? you did so good, pretty. 'm proud of you," he clung onto your hand, grazing his thumb over your forehead as a smile adorned his face, "she's here, baby."

girl dad! sukuna who couldn't hold his tears back when the nurse suggested skin-to-skin contact with the father. he wasted no time tugging his shirt off to hold his little bundle of joy, nestling her in his arms — unknowingly letting a few stray tears of joy out as he coos down to his newborn daughter.

"oh, you're so pretty, little one." he cradled her gently against his bulky arms, sniffling softly. he was so gentle — different from how he used to be, his eyes soft and watery as he affectionately stares down at his now sleeping daughter.

girl dad! sukuna who slept on a chair by your bed when the doctor told you that you'll be allowed to go home once your body is fit again, he didn't care that he didn't have a bed to lie on. he was just there, prepped in a chair as his fingertips touched your wrist near the IV injection on the back of your hand. making sure he didn't touch the transparent hose. and his eyes darted back and forth from your resting form and his daughter who was now all warm and bundled up inside a bassinet. making sure that the both of you are resting well even if he was barely able to open his eyes fully.

girl dad! sukuna who carried all your bags and your daughter's car seat with ease while leading you down the hospital hallways and to the car. helping you buckle your seatbelt and making sure that his daughter is going to be safe and sound during the ride home, prepping up the car seat like he learned, giving his daughter a light kiss on her head before closing the door.

girl dad! sukuna who tells you to rely on him every time his daughter wakes up in the middle of the night — he won't let you get up, gently tugging you down onto the bed and tucking you underneath the covers before leaving to tend your daughter without any other words. as if his daughter is the most fragile thing in the world, he carries her into his arms and hushed her softly, nuzzling his nose onto her head, trying to get her back to sleep.

"shh, baby, mama's tired right now . . . go back to bed." he whispers, kissing her small forehead.

girl dad! sukuna who offered to shower your baby for the first time after two weeks upon arriving back home (under your watch of course), as you filled the bathinette with warm water — sukuna was cradling her in his arms, swaying his body side to side. and when you tell him the water's ready, sukuna prepped his big hand behind your daughter's small head so the water won't go to her face and began cleaning her. concentrating, he wets his finger and traced it over his daughter's face, making sure she's not frightened. and once he's done, he cupped his hand and scooped some water to wet her hair, rubbing her head lovingly.

girl dad! sukuna who's personality did a somersault ever since you were pregnant with his daughter. turning soft and more clingy, he has your daughter strapped to his chest. and will tell you that he's got it every time his daughter cries or ruined her diapers, he's learnt it all thanks to other great dads on youtube.

girl dad! sukuna who was even more ecstatic than you are when his daughter said her first word, which was of course "mama", he didn't care that she didn't say "dada", he focuses on the fact that his daughter had grown so much to be able to say her first word. tells your bundle of joy how proud he is of her even if she probably doesn't understand her father.

"maa..ma."

sukuna who had his eyes on the television immediately darted to his daughter who was in your hold, his lips were slightly parted as he tries to process what just happened, "did . . . did she . . ?"

when you confirmed his question, he pulled you into his arms and kissed your head before kissing your daughter's head, muttering out a, "papa's proud of you, baby."

girl dad! sukuna who treats both you and your daughter like the most precious beings in the world. he. spoils. you. both. to no end, coming home from work with a present for the both of you. mostly food for you, and a toy for your daughter. you just know [daughter] is going to grow up spoiled by her father.

girl dad! sukuna who spoils your daughter rotten. and ever since her first steps — he's been going out with her to no end, of course going out as a family of three. holding your daughter's chubby little hands as he guided her down the street, earning coos from strangers all around him.

"good girl, that's right . . . left and right." he said softly, watching [daughter] walk slowly, still a little wobbly.

girl dad! sukuna who gets a little emotional when your daughter has her first birthday — because, it's been that fast? he tries not to cry, i swear. but silently slips inside the bathroom and lets a few one out before coming out like he didn't just cry over his daughter growing up too fast. he swore it was just yesterday that he was in the hospital.

girl dad! sukuna who will with no shame, participate in tea parties with his daughter once she's known enough about it. you'd call them both down for dinner and when they didn't, you decided to be the one to approach them inside [daughter]'s room. and there he was, sitting on the floor, to his left and right were [daughter]'s stuffed animals and your daughter was sitting across from sukuna with a silver tiara on.

"this looks fun," you chuckled, eyeing them.

"mama! tea party?" [daughter] beams out at you, you walked over to them and carried your daughter into your arms, "mama, no tea party?"

"after dinner, baby. okay?"

sukuna has no shame in it. at first, he did try to decline his daughter, telling her that she should ask you instead, but your daughter looked so crestfallen that he just has to accept — which turned out to be a daily thing now. a tea party.

girl dad! sukuna who will be his daughter's experiment subject to trying out make ups. he's a little skeptical (lies, he's very skeptical), but it's not like this is the first time he's had make up put on his face. he's had his fair share of you trying to put make up on him, but this was a toddler doing it and not a full grown adult. but he couldn't say no, so he just submits to his daughter and lets her modify his face and clips on cute hairclips to his hair.

"mama mama! look at papa," your daughter cheers, pointing at sukuna. and you laugh, carrying your daughter before approaching the male who was sitting down on the floor in the living room.

"you look pretty, ryo."

"i feel pretty, my little girl did it to me." he rolls his eyes before grabbing a mirror to look at his face.

eh, not bad.

girl dad! sukuna who drops his daughter off for the first day of pre-school, telling her that she should punch anyone who messes with her (thankfully nobody yet). and gets a bit emotional again as she walks inside the building, his eyes going glassy watching her skip inside her new chapter.

girl dad! sukuna who's overprotective when it comes to his little girl. a trip to the park was a daily routine for his family — and believe me when he has eyes everywhere for his little girl, if anyone was bothering her, he would have no fear on finding out who their parent was. taking matters into his own hands, leaving the children out of it. as much as he wanted to confront the kid for bothering his little princess, he knew the parents had the most fault.

"your boy has issues. the next time he lays his hand on my girl, i will come for you." he said to the boy's father before walking back to you.

the boy and his father never came back to the park after that day.

girl dad! sukuna who watches his daughter grow from a small girl to an eight year old in a matter of what felt like a week. he swore yesterday she was just babbling out her first word, and the next thing he knows, she's got a "boyfriend" at school? oh, boy.

"you don't have a boyfriend." he mutters out, eyeing his daughter.

"yes i do have a boyfriend," your daughter replies back with her soft voice.

"no."

the banter continued until your daughter ended up in tears, and sukuna had to force himself to say that she indeed had a boyfriend in school. he's upset that she's growing up too quickly, but at the same time — he's proud of his little girl.

girl dad! sukuna who finds out you were pregnant with a second child, who turned out to be another girl. and he was still as loving and caring like he was with his first daughter, this time, he had a helping hand to take care of you.

"mama has a baby in her belly, so you can't be too rough on her, okay?" he baby talks his eight year old daughter like she's still a small baby — he softly caresses your clothed stomach as he speaks to her.

girl dad! sukuna who had to see his first daughter cry over her new "soon to be" born baby sibling. thinking both you and him were not going to love her anymore — and his heart breaks, because why would he not love his princess anymore?

"hey, hey, why're you cryin'?" sukuna tucks [daughter]'s hair behind her ear as she lets out a few fat tears out of her eyes.

"mama and papa will still love me, right?" she asks, her voice breaking slightly.

sukuna pulls the young girl into his embrace, holding her with one of his arm as he wipes her tears with his other, "'f course mama and i will still love you, you're our princess."

girl dad! sukuna who proudly watches his big girl now approaching his newborn daughter and her sister, eyeing the baby with such an innocent glint in her eyes. oh, and big girl? doesn't matter, to sukuna, your first daughter will always be his little girl.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

Hello (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠) Can I request Itadori, Geto, and Gojo getting "cuteness aggression" over their girlfriends? Like they want to bite her cheeks, pet her hair, suffocate her with cuddles, shower her with kisses, etc.! Thank you so so much, have a wonderful day/night! (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

JJK MEN + CUTENESS AGGRESSION ˚✿˖

featuring. gojo satoru, geto suguru, itadori yuuji x fem!reader

warnings. none, just them being lovesick for you tbh :>

note. hi anon, i'm so sorry for the super late update for your request :( i hope you like it! <33 i'm gonna be continuing the 1k milestone in a bit, just a few more requests 😸

GOJO SATORU. gojo has this habit of nipping on your flesh, then sucking on them gently every time he looks at you — once, he made a bruise (a hickey) on your cheek. the male will not hide the fact that he's so in love with you, he just wants to put you in his pocket and takes care of you.

"baby, you're so cute, i can't help it," he gushes out, fondling your cheeks with his big hands before peppering your face with wet kisses.

with every kiss he plants, he sounds out a loud, "mwah!"

"'toru, stop that," you always try to tell him despite the big smile on your face — along with the soft giggle that escaped your throat every once in a while.

gojo just couldn't help it. something in him, just tells him that he should touch you. the giddy feeling he gets when he sees you just sitting, doing nothing. he always makes his way to you in a flash, just to either hug you tightly, squish your cheeks, even take a nip or two on your flesh.

"'toru, give me one reason why you're chomping my shoulder right now?" the male unhinged his teeth from your clothed shoulder and blinked innocently.

"'cause you're cute. give me a kiss," he then puckered out his lips slightly, swooping down to steal a kiss from your lips, "mmm, more," he spoke to himself — planting his lips to yours multiple more times.

gojo just can't help it, every time he comes over to visit you, or to pick you up for a date. he doesn't care no matter what make up or skin care you have latched on your face, he will nip on your flesh any time he gets to do it (every time).

GETO SUGURU. different than gojo, i feel like he will be more discreet about it in public. his fingers would gently squeeze your plump thighs, or your hips. but when you're both all alone — he will squeeze your cheeks, give you head pats, and just gush over his girlfriend.

"sugu, no more, my hair's a mess," you shooed his hand away from your head before patting down on the disheveled strands.

"'ts okay, you still look pretty," he gently grabbed your hand and put it down, and there his hand went. on your head, patting your hair here and there.

geto has this small habit of just — biting down on your finger when he holds your hand, your index, your thumb, your pinky. he just does it, out of the blue, and when you ask what he's doing, he just spews out about how cute and small your fingers are compared to his.

"sugu, no bite."

"baby, your finger is so small and cute," he chuckled, biting down gently onto your pinky.

"'ts not. it's normal — your fingers are too big," you reply back, pulling your finger out from being sandwiched by his teeth.

no matter how many times you tell him to stop, he does it again and again. and you just let him do whatever he wants.

ITADORI YUUJI. like gojo, he doesn't really care where he is or who's watching — even when he's talking with his friends or even gojo himself. yuuji's hand will find a way to pinch your cheeks, his eyes not even sparring at you. but his hands just maneuvers over to your skin.

like a stress ball. except, yuuji does it gently.

when he sees you, he becomes this extremely happy boy. hugging you tightly and just peppering kisses all over your face, his hands cupping both sides of your cheeks as he does that.

"my pretty girl," he kisses you on the tip of your nose, moving on to your cheeks and then your forehead, before eventually to your lips.

yuuji gets so giddy when he sees you wearing either lip gloss or lip stick, he turns into this fanboy and can't help but to give you a kiss or two on the lips — smearing his own with shades of red, pink, or glossy oil.

"is this a new shade, baby?" he asks, pointing at his lips — which had tints of dark pink.

you nodded, "it looks good on you."

"it looks better on you," he planted another kiss on your lips, "pretty," he glees out, biting your chin gently.

when he sees you in a new make up or outfit, he just gets so giddy at how adorable you look. he just has to praise you, hug you, kiss you, anything really as long as it's you.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

( OO1 ) ★ unwarranted assumptions , sukuna ryomen

featuring. sukuna ryomen x reader

warnings. cursing, college! au, sukuna and yuuji are twin brothers here lol, sukuna might be a lil ooc here (he's in love, he just doesn't know it pls spare him omg). // wc: 3.5k

ENTRY ( OO1 ) OF THE "INTO THE IPINVERSE" MILESTONE

"how do i know if i'm in love with someone?" "you want to kill everyone who gets near them." "oh, shit."

tag: @rrairey milov, ily for participating in this mwah mwah, @sad-darksoul, @sweeneyblue1 , @idkuluka, @colorful-happy-shit

sukuna and yuuji were quite the opposite. the only thing they share is their looks, and their love for basketball. that's about it. on one hand, we have itadori yuuji—the younger twin— who has a passion for basketball, is the campus' sunshine, and is always friendly to practically everyone.

on the other hand, we have sukuna ryomen—the older twin, just by twelve minutes— who also has a passion for basketball, is "considered" as one of the campus' scariest person, and is never friendly to everyone.

the two however, stuck to each other like glue. walking around campus with one another, like two peas in a pod, they did everything together. it's no longer an odd sight to see them both together — it is pretty weird if one is here, and the other is there.

despite their contrasts in personalities, the two were popular. being star athletes, constantly winning trophies for the campus, and climbing up in fame. hell, even people from different campus would drop by just to meet the two at times, it's funny.

"hey, great job on the match, yuuji."

then there was you. a friend of yuuji — the two of you met during the first semester, and have been good friends since then. however, you never really talked to sukuna. the only thing you both have exchanged were short greetings, and eye-contacts.

you had a cinch that the older twin doesn't particularly like you; but that was just your assumption. you didn't know the truth. this sole assumption was the only thing that made you cease contact with the male. in all honesty, you find him rather . . . well, intimidating. the aura he sets off was just, unsettling. so you just assumed that sukuna doesn't like you.

sukuna finds you rather, amusing. how you would only congratulate his younger brother, and not him as well despite him being next to his brother. how you would throw your gaze away the moment your eyes met his. how you would bow your head down a bit whenever you both exchanged greetings. he didn't understand why you were so intent on doing all that stuff, and so he assumed that you weren't fond of him.

the male wanted to question it, but really — it would be weird for him, and for you. so he never actually done it.

see? assumptions are such fucking party-poopers. i mean, if only the two of you had come to both of your senses and just talked instead of assuming things about one another, where you think sukuna hates you, and sukuna thinks you hated him.

"why do they do that?" sukuna finds himself asking his brother, yuuji. elbow nudging yuuji's arm lightly.

"i need names." yuuji replied back before averting his gaze to the side, watching his twin brother staring at something— or someone intently. yuuji looks over to what sukuna was so focused on, smirking lightly when he saw you in his own vision, "are y'talking about y/n?"

sukuna lightly grunted, leaning back onto the chair rest. his eyes finally ripping away from you, who was currently throwing laughs and giggles amongst your friend group.

"yeah, them. why'd they do that?" sukuna parrots.

"do what, exactly?" yuuji retorts back, leaning his cheek onto the palm of his hand, sighing out in triumph; trying to figure out where this conversation will go.

"avoid me, but not you." yuuji pops a small smile, lightly elbowing his brother's side, "what?"

"do y'like them?"

like? sukuna didn't like you. he just finds your attitude towards him amusing, and . . . maybe you confuse him a bit at the difference on how you treat yuuji and him. but sukuna would never say that to his brother, he'd never hear the end of it, he just knows it.

"like? psh, you've gotta be kidding me. i was just fucking curious about their behavior, you brat." he pushed yuuji away lightly before burying his face into his arms, heaving out a loud sigh.

yuuji chuckles, "brat? you're only twelve minutes older than i am," he sings out in a teasing manner.

sukuna swore he just finds you amusing. at first.

so why does it pisses him off that you ran to his brother's side after a match and handed him a bottle of energy drink, and not him. murmuring out strings of curses, he felt like an absolute buffoon, standing beside yuuji — drenched in sweat, using the hem of his jersey to wipe the dribbling sweat.

while yuuji had all the glory. getting a small cute, teddy bear motive handkerchief from you, an energy drink, and a congratu-fucking-lations.

"yeah — that buzzer beater was totally amazing, yuuji. congrats on winning again! not that i've ever doubt you or the rest," you complimented, and hearing 'the rest' coming out of your mouth, for some reason; pisses sukuna off even more.

the older twin swerved his shoes on the court's floor, letting his soles let out a screech as it rubbed against the shiny surface of the floor. earning both yours and yuuji's attention.

"y'alright?" yuuji asks, popping open the bottle cap of the energy drink from you. and the sight made sukuna ball his fists in annoyance — god, he didn't even know why he was feeling like such.

"yeah. 'm gonna head to change," sukuna mutters out, hesitantly turning away to leave.

and the moment he turns his body away, sukuna could hear the vivid voices of both you and yuuji exchanging goodbyes. and before he knew it, yuuji was walking alongside him, "are you really okay? you look like you need to let out a fuse."

sukuna answered with a soft hum, his eyes narrowing as he continued on walking to the locker room. still angry, frustrated, and annoyed all at once.

"y/n told me to tell you congrats, by the way."

sukuna peered over the locker's door and arched a brow, "why couldn't they tell me that themselves, hm?" yuuji chuckles, finding his brother's behavior funny; because when else was yuuji going to see sukuna act like this?

like a love struck puppy, who doesn't know they're in love.

"who knows?" yuuji shrugs, grabbing the hem of his jersey and ripping it off his body — breathing out loudly, using the handkerchief you gave him to dab the sweat on his face.

sukuna eyed his brother, squinting his eyes lightly before doing the same action, minus the handkerchief. while he was doing so, a thought passed his mind.

"how do i know if i'm in love with someone?" yuuji instantly knew who the person sukuna was talking about, but prompted to say nothing about it and just play along.

yuuji pretended to give the question a deep thought before eventually answering, "you want to kill everyone who gets near them."

sukuna stared at his brother for a short while, muttering out a subtle, "oh, shit."

the reaction was enough for yuuji to made his own conclusion, "you like y/n don't you? which explains why you're in such a shitty mood, since they only paid attention to me—"

"okay, shut the fuck up." sukuna blurted out, "so what if i fucking do, huh? it's not like they'd like me back anyways."

sukuna shuts the locker, the loud bang resounding in the almost empty locker room. yuuji broke out into a loud laugh, "there y'go, making assumptions here and there, it's not like you both have ever talked in a normal conversation before anyways. how do you know they don't like you?"

good point.

"what are you going to do without me?" yuuji sighs out exasperatedly, the younger twin approached his brother, sliding the partly (sweat) damp handkerchief into sukuna's grasp, "return this to them for me, and who knows — maybe you'll be able to make a more positive assumption or two after."

sukuna wondered why he was standing in front of you, his hand shoved out, in between his index finger and middle finger was the same handkerchief yuuji had told him to give back to you.

"the brat wants me to give this back to you." he grunted out, his voice deep and unfriendly.

you stood in front of him, blinking rapidly; not knowing of what to say, should you start off with a greeting? or just tell him thank you? or maybe congratulate him for the match?

and so you decided to do all three, in a random order.

"thank you for your win, congratulations, hi." oh, god. the moment he stared at you in plain confusion — or maybe despise, you just wanted to crawl under the ground and die right there and then.

". . . thanks." he slowly murmurs back, waiting for you to grab your small fabric from his fingers, but you never did, "are you gonna take this or what?"

sukuna wanted to punch himself on the face after you flinched at the tone of his voice, your fingers frantically ripping away the fabric from his touch, mumbling out apologies. he didn't mean for his voice to come out that harsh.

the male wasted no more time in turning his heels to walk away, noticing your tense form; instead of a more positive assumption, his assumption worsened from you hating him, to you hating and being scared of him.

". . . bye." he mutters out, walking away with long strides to go find yuuji.

and when he did, sukuna just wanted to use his younger brother as a punching bag. hell, he didn't know why he was so angry at yuuji, and himself. heavy on himself, though.

"woah, what's up with you?" yuuji pushes his brother away lightly, "how did it go? did you guys like . . . at least exchanged phone numbers or not?"

sukuna shook his head, "think they're scared of me." he mutters out, throwing his head back, stressed out.

"is that your assumption again?" sukuna didn't answer him, which confirmed the question. the younger one heaves out a loud sigh that attracted an odd look—more like a glare—from sukuna.

"i wan' to sock your face in so bad," he mutters out condescendingly, eyes boring into yuuji's face; which in a way intimidated the younger twin, of course.

with a nervous smile, yuuji raises both of his hands up in defense, "chill, 'm gonna give you their phone number, maybe y'should ask them out or something."

see, the thing is that sukuna hated texting— in a way, it's like leaving footprints everywhere. he hated all that stuff. call him old fashioned, but you know he has a pretty good point. so he refused blatantly, "no, jus' leave it to me, i'll think of something."

the gods are on his side.

"i guess, we're partners?" you asked him meekly, slipping into yuuji's empty seat since the younger one was away with his assigned partner on the other side of the lecture hall.

sukuna hums, not knowing what else to say. his eyes followed your figure as you dropped a binder on top of the table, though— one thing particularly caught his eyes. the strip of photo that was tucked beneath the binder's transparent cover, he recognized you, your two other friends, and yuuji.

why the hell was his brother there? the male had one of his eyes closed, and a toothy grin; showing off his pearly whites while his fingers are formed into a peace sign. his cheek leaning onto the side of your head.

indubitably silenced, you averted your gaze to his face slightly. seeing that his attention was on your binder, you awkwardly shifted the book away— and sukuna came into his senses, now looking onto the surface of the table.

"uh . . . should we get started then?" you proposed, and he gave out a subtle nod.

the passing half an hour was just plain awkward. awkward is an understatement, you wanted to just walk out on him— but that would be rude. plus, he's actually doing his share of work, and you did yours. only conversing when you both needed opinions on each other's results.

"so," sukuna started, breaking the silence that seemed like had been going on for like . . . forever.

"you like my brother?"

you slowly tilted your head to look at him, blinking your eyes feverishly, "what—? god, no. what? where did that even come from?" sukuna felt the knot in his stomach unknot, a little relieved to hear your answer.

"just askin', since you're both so close." he shrugs, not even sparing you a glance.

"you're assuming." you found yourself chuckling, "jus' because we're close, doesn't mean i like yuuji— i think of him more of a . . . brother figure," you informed sukuna.

"oh." he resounds, "since we're twins, y'think of me as a brother too or is that exclusive for my twin?" sukuna questions, his tone laced with mischief.

rolling your eyes, you answered him in the same joking manner, "exclusive for your twin, not like we ever talked before, y'know?" oh. right, that did shut sukuna up, his silence killing the conversation almost immediately.

his silence domineered over you. it was like he was planning to do something to you right this very moment, until your lecturer calls out that the session was finished (and how the project should be submitted next week during his session).

saved by the lecturer.

"uh . . . well, should we continue this next time then?" you asked him, packing your stationary.

"yeah, sure."

" . . . if you don't mind, can i have your number? for project purposes," jackpot. sukuna took the chance and nodded, using his pen to swiftly write his digits on your binder, "thanks, i'll text you later. bye, sukuna."

once you left his sight, yuuji pops in. grinning efficiently, "i saw that, this must be fate, i can just feel it."

"you believe in that shit? we're just gonna talk about the project." sukuna retorts back, packing his own belongings before swinging his bag strap over his shoulder.

"oh come on, you're smiling. at least your body's honest," yuuji teases, earning an up right smack to the back of his head, "if they ask where you should do the project — say our house."

absolutely not. sukuna thought.

yet here you were, sitting on the floor of his room, scribbling away on a piece of paper as he sat across from you — glancing up from his own paper from time to time, taking a swift look at your focused face before returning to his own.

sukuna couldn't focus at all. he wanted to, really. but he was alone with you in his room, this was a chance for him; to get to know you. he had so much to say, but he didn't know where to start.

yuuji, earlier in the day had even gone out to give him a list of questions to ask you so you both could have a better relationship. sukuna didn't think it was needed, since well, it is sukuna. why would he need a list for?

on the other side, you too, were dying to say something. but the permanent scowl on sukuna's face made you falter even before you could take a whiff of him.

a knock to sukuna's door was all it took for the both of you to stop scribbling, finally taking a good look of each other. and the door swung open, revealing yuuji with a white shirt and a yellow jacket on, he was holding a plate of what seemed to be chocolate chip cookies, "so— how's your project holding up?"

sukuna shrugs, "i guess, it's fine."

yuuji slid the plate on top of the wooden table, grinning lightly, "you guys getting along just fine?" he questions, squatting down.

you nodded, "we're okay."

okay? okay??? well, in a way you and sukuna are both fine. but sukuna didn't feel fine, "guess so."

the dopey smile you had on the moment yuuji entered his room made sukuna think that you didn't feel comfortable enough to be in the same room as he is, alone. and honestly, just the thought of it made his stomach churn in agony — because, why must it be his own brother that he's jealous of?

"well, i gotta go. dig in the cookies, g'luck on the project you guys," yuuji smacked sukuna's back harshly before trotting away to leave the room, mutely shutting the door.

you grabbed a piece of cookie, taking a crunchy bite out of it. marveling in delight.

"are you scared of me?"

sukuna needed to stop with the sudden questions that made your heart leap at least three miles away. widening your eyes a bit, you arched both of your brows, "wha . . . t?"

you stopped chewing altogether, eyeing the male across from you like he's crazy. i mean — if you were to be honest, you were partially intimidated by him and the aura he's giving out.

"i asked if you're scared of me," sukuna repeats, laying his pen down onto the table as he intertwined his fingers together, waiting for an answer.

you nodded, "truthfully, you're intimidating."

oh.

sukuna expected that answer, but why did it actually made his heart throb? as in — the person he likes is actually scared of him, and it broke a little part of him. however, he still has a scowl on his face and his expression unchanged.

"you have this big scowl every time i go around yuuji, and it intimidates me. so i just assumed that you hated me," sukuna blinked, brows furrowing slowly; the creases in between his brows deepening by the passing second.

"what? i assumed that you hated me." he replied, emphasizing on the 'me'. and this time you furrowed your brows, swallowing the bite of cookie you took before and wiping the crumbs off the corner of your lips in confusion.

"what? no, i don't. what? why would you even assume that?" you questioned him, now dropping your own pen onto the table, completely disregarding the project.

"why would i not? y'keep avoiding me like i'm a bad person, so i just assumed that you hated me." sukuna replies.

"i thought you hated me, because you look like you want to kill me every single time, so i just never talked to you, it was pretty scary." you retorted back, shaking your head, the cookie was now a decoration in between your fingers.

sukuna can't help but to chuckle, "so it was jus' our shitty assumptions?"

you hummed, "i guess so."

to say the least, sukuna felt like he was breathing again. yuuji was definitely right about all these assumption things — and he kept in mind that he'd praise the younger twin later (maybe). the sight of you eating a cookie in front of him made him feel a little overwhelmed, now that he got all the hard part done. he felt like he could talk with you now.

"then . . . can i get to know ya'?"

you narrowed your eyes at him, "really? no strings attached?" he raised both of his hands up in defense, shaking his head lightly, "why do you look like you want to kill me every single time then? are you plotting my murder? is this a trick?"

your questions made him pop out a light smirk, "so what if i am, huh?" he teased.

rolling your eyes, you shoved a hand out to him, "since we didn't start off in the right path, why don't we start over? i feel like this is the only appropriate way."

sukuna raised his hand up to engulf yours in his, feeling a light tingle in his chest as you squeezed his hand lightly, "i'm y/n l/n, just call me y/n. cool?"

the male scoffs, "cool. sukuna ryomen, it's only fair if you get to call me by my first name too, so . . . call me ryomen."

"ryo for short. that's your name now," sukuna arched a brow with an amused smile, nodding his head. internally doing a victory dance in his mind as he just got a nickname from you — and yuuji is just 'yuuji'.

a win for him today.

"you're a little smiley today, did something happen between y/n and you earlier?" yuuji asks, pressing the pause button on his controller to face his brother who was laying down on the couch, the corner of his lips tugged upwards.

"i'm ryo now."

"ryo as in ryomen? i mean — that's your name, so? what are you implying?" sukuna stared at yuuji with a lighthearted smile. yuuji is somehow smart to catch up with these kind of things that it sometimes baffles sukuna, "oh, i get it. so, now you both are on first name basis?"

not even first name basis. this is a nickname that they gave me. sukuna sings in his mind, breathing out in content.

"it's a nickname. they gave it to me," yuuji cooed loudly, tossing his controller aside, "y'know . . . i was assuming they didn't like me, and they assumed it was the other way. they assumed i hated them because apparently i looked like i wanted to kill them?"

yuuji pointed his finger accusingly, "see? i was right!"

sukuna rolled his eyes, "that's the first time y'have ever been right, don't get ahead of yourself."

"so — when are you planning to confess to them, hm?"

a light kick to yuuji's side was enough to send him toppling over the couch, whining out in pain, "we just became friends, and y'think i should confess? that can wait," sukuna mumbles out.

sukuna was just delighted that his assumptions were unwarranted.

© IPINVRSE 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀… feels like he'll blow any second.

which is funny because around him, young little girls scream with excitement and happiness. it's his baby girl's forth birthday today, and sukuna is more than happy to provide his pride and joy with all the light in the world. there are pink streamers and little girls in frilly princess dresses running around in princess crowns, and he's proud he even managed to pull this thing off.

how funny, you never imagined the king of curses throwing a barbie themed birthday party for his first daughter.

only there's one issue.

sukuna rubs his forehead, fingers dragging across the skin as he's met with a drowning sound of his phone ringing.

"god damn it, mortal, pick up." sukuna curses under his breath, two arms crossed while the third holds the phone and the forth scratches his forehead.

annelise and erika from barbie princess and the pauper were supposed to show up at 1pm, and it's now 1:10pm and no sight of the barbie princesses he requested. his hand tightens on his phone, and he tries to calm down— just so that he doesn’t send his baby girl’s birthday decorations aflame.

"fu—" sukuna curses, immediately silencing himself when he watches his daughter run over with pittering feet.

"dada!" his baby girl chirps, and sukuna's ear perks.

he looks down at his little girl with bright pink curls bouncing, plastic crown nearly too big for her little head.

"dada, why angry?" she giggles, and sukuna only chuckles.

"i'm not angry, princess. just takin' a phone call. how about we cut your cake in a little?" sukuna offers, gently pinching her cheek before she runs off to go burn her energy off in the castle bouncy house.

his baby girl can't tell when he's angry, but you certainly can. you laugh and stand by your husband, hand gently resting on his muscular back as he contemplates dialing the barbie princesses again and giving them a piece of his mind. sukuna didn't stay up memorizing all the barbie princess songs for this bullshit.

"hi, honey." you smile, and sukuna sighs softly.

"hello, love." the man replies, arms unraveling as he returns your side hug.

"what’s got you all down?" you ask, leaning against his chest.

sukuna sighs, of course you can see past him. your eyes trail from the pink ribbons, bright music playing, and girlish giggles coming from your daughter and her friends.

"these damn princesses won't pick up— i just want this thing to go perfectly." he expresses, and you giggle under your breath. "and god, i'm so exhausted."

"baby, you're doing just fine." you smile up at him, eyes glimmering in the warm sunlight. "you're a great dad... no— the best dad. and our baby loves you. she’ll love anything you do, princesses or not."

sukuna feels his lash line water, and he swallows hard— anger fading immediately as he looks over at his little princess.

he’s a good dad, he’s a good dad, he reminds himself.

"okay, fine. let’s cut the cake." sukuna sighs. "come on, everyone! let’s have starberry cake before the princesses arrive."

"strawberry, baby." you laugh softly.

"right. strawberry cake." sukuna chuckles as the little kindergarteners gather at the cake table. he’s still learning too.

he focuses on the good in the moment, bulky hand nearly snapping the plastic knife from his strength. he hands the cake out, four arms helping him easily. without him knowing, you watch as the barbie princesses finally come around the corner, elaborate, glittering dresses shimmering.

you take a slice from him, watching as your daughter chomps the sugary dessert down within seconds.

birthday parties are definitely chaotic and take lots of energy— you'll find your husband fast asleep on the sofa later, but for now, things are perfect.

he’s the king of curses, and also a father in this life.

© YUNYMPHS 2024 modifications, reposts, and translations of any kind are strictly prohibited.

❝ dying (for your love) ❞. . . ⇢ satoru gojo

˗ˏˋsummary: there’s never any time to think about your feelings for each other when you’re so focused on ensuring that you both live to see another day

˗ˏˋwc: 17.5k whew..

˗ˏˋcontains: gn!reader x gojo, zombie apocalypse au, slowburn, angst with a happy ending, descriptive violence, minor injuries, use of guns/other weapons, lots of physical touch, codependency, clingy gojo 🥺, heavy pining/yearning etc etc, sugu + shoko cameo, one (1) heated argument, cursing, suggestive language used near the end (MDNI)

˗ˏˋa/n: [inhales deeply] first of all, big big BIG THANK U to my beloved io @elusivemoon for beta reading this behemoth of a fic u r my rock fr i love u soo so bad. im also tagging @softgirlgonehaywire @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat and @anthoosies for hyping me up so much 🙈<3 + some more lovely beautiful friends tagged below bc this fic was in the works for a good minute now. i hope u all enjoy reading my longest word-vomit to date :3 and do let me know if there's anything i missed for the content warnings!!

extra: fic playlist by @elusivemoon + series mlist :3

you think you’re hearing the haunting moans of the undead echoing in the distance, or perhaps you’re simply imagining things — but it’s a constant reminder of the perilous world you now inhabit nonetheless. a world that succumbed to an epidemic, at the hands of a fatal illness that truthfully did nothing to really make you stay dead.

as the moonlight illuminates the path you and satoru are currently walking on, you have to rely heavily on your senses. the only sounds emitting from the two of you at the moment are that of crunching leaves underneath thick, dirt-covered boots and the occasional shuddering breath being exhaled. in the otherwise eerie silence, you both stand guard beside each other, eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of danger as you trek through the dense forest.

a twig snaps underneath your feet, and in an instant satoru’s eyes are on you — gaze flitting up and down and all around your figure, double and triple checking that you’re out of harm's way. his free hand, the one not holding his weapon of choice, reaches out gingerly; he gently grabs your elbow,tugs once, and a soft “stay close,” is uttered from his lips. two words he finds himself saying to you almost every day.

you couldn’t possibly stand any closer to him, but you nod your head and match your steps with his anyway.

you occasionally glanced at him from your peripheral, unable to tear your eyes away from the man beside you. you both were once part of a small group of survivors — a mere 6 of you in total — but you’ve long since separated from them, though not fully by choice.

it was an ambush that ultimately cut your time with the others short. a large horde of zombies had appeared, and you didn’t have time to assess what was happening before you heard the sound of shots ringing out. one member of the group had gotten attacked, and two more were firing at the horde as they steadily approached. in a last minute effort to save yourselves the group had decided to split-up to divide and conquer, but you were unable to find them again after that.

that same day you had a close call when you turned your back to search for a familiar face, not having realized there was one zombie remaining that you didn’t kill. satoru had never run so fast in his life when he found you and spotted the creature behind you, unsheathing his gun with record speed just as rotting limbs extended in your direction. the sound of the bullet firing didn’t startle you nearly as much as the sight you were met with when you finally turned around — of gnarled, decaying flesh and bones, a mere inches away from your own skin. up close and way too personal for your own liking.

satoru was running on pure adrenaline and fear after that. by the time he reached you, he only remembers hastily grabbing your hand and running in the opposite direction when a part of the horde began to approach the sound of the shot he fired. the two of you never looked back, and to this day neither of you know if the others survived or not.

what you do know is that satoru saved your life that day, and that you both need each other more than either of you realize. there’s never any time to think about the implications of that, though. not when every day is a fight for survival on such a nightmarish landscape.

but that doesn’t affect how he cares for you, nor you him. it’s displayed through subtle actions each day, where you both cling to each other even as you walk with your weapons drawn. how you both subconsciously seek each other out in the night as you sleep, hands tightly clasped together as if you were both afraid the other would float away in their sleep. how every moment is built on a profound trust in one another.

it’s a silent promise that you’ll stay at each other’s side, facing whatever horrors await the two of you.

another twig snaps, though this time it’s not by fault of either of you. you and satoru immediately stop in your tracks, and his hand automatically finds yours as he grips it tight enough to make his knuckles turn white. you’d have probably gotten a little flustered because of his instinct to hold you close if a fear of the unknown wasn’t currently crawling up your throat instead.

by now you’re no stranger to fear, but even the familiarity wouldn’t ever help you get used to the way it makes your stomach sink into your guts.

with bated breaths, you and satoru exchange a glance. it’s quiet, maybe too quiet. you hope satoru’s hearing is better than yours right now, because you can feel your heart thrumming loudly in your ear drums to the beat of the paralyzing emotion overtaking your whole being.

there’s a rustle in the bushes, and just as quickly as you heard it, one of satoru’s weapons is drawn. it’s a small rifle he carries with him, though he has no real intention of firing the noisy weapon right now at least — he knows better than to do so in the middle of a dense forest at night, with you beside him nonetheless. he would never risk your life like that.

satoru takes a small step forward, maneuvering his body to be half shielding yours as he did. even though you have your own weapon ready — a baseball bat fashioned with barbed wire wrapped all around the barrel — satoru was the one to move first, all with the intention of ensuring your own safety. you can take care of yourself, for sure, and he knows that you’re more than capable, but he does it anyway. you think it’s likely for his own peace of mind, but you never question it.

looking out for each other is simply an unspoken agreement the two of you have. you never needed to ask him to stand in front of you or hold you when you’re feeling anxious because he simply does it anyway. just as you do him.

another rustle comes from the bushes, and this one is more prominent, unmistakeable. satoru tightens his grip on the rifle, though you wonder what he’ll do if it actually turns out to be another zombie. he surely can’t fire it, lest he alerts anyone or anything of your location, but maybe he’ll use the butt of the rifle to knock down the zombie. it would definitely buy you enough time to land your own hit as well; just one fell swoop at the head and the undead will be dead once more.

as it turned out, the source of the noise in the bush was merely a false alarm. you were sure you could hear panting, and you tilted your head in confusion until the sound of a whine made you blink in surprise. it sounded like it was coming from an injured animal, perhaps it was a dog? you shared a glance with satoru, who was equally as confused, and then hesitantly you took a step forward.

“careful,” satoru whispered to you, as he slowly lowered the rifle in his hands, his shoulders relaxing but not enough to completely let his guard down. he watched you hold the bat at your side as you knelt down, moving the leaves of the bush out of the way until you saw the source of the noise. indeed, it was a dog — you weren’t sure of the exact breed in the dark but it was an average sized one; it couldn’t have been no more than 30-40 lbs in weight. the dog looked up at you with uncertain eyes, ears tucked back and teeth snarled when you brought your hand close to it.

upon further examination the dog appeared to be stuck in the bush, sharp thorns digging into one of its back legs and drawing small amounts of blood. the poor thing was injured and struggling to free itself.

“it’s stuck…” you murmured softly, voice directed at satoru as your gaze remained fixed on the animal before you. satoru was now standing beside you, leaning his weight on his knees as he hunched forward to examine the dog as well. he hummed softly, a frown making its way onto his face.

you shared another look with him, and he nodded without saying a word (you’ve both learned to silently communicate with each other, after all). turning your attention back to the dog, you began to pull apart the branches surrounding it, making sure not to startle the dog and stress it out any further. once you cleared enough of it you carefully started to pull apart the branches stuck to its leg, shushing it gently when it started to growl and whine at you. the very second you freed it from the branch it lunged forward, jumping past you and several feet away. it was limping on its back leg, but the dog seemed more relaxed in your presence now.

“there we go,” you smiled, standing back up on your feet. satoru mirrored your smile, feeling the weight in his chest loosen up at the rare sight. he liked seeing you happy, it made his heart race in a way that he tried not to think about too much.

he was just… content, seeing the light shine in your eyes in fleeting moments like this. a glimmer of hope in an otherwise barren world, a reminder that he still had you — and you him.

it was only several more minutes of walking — along with the dog you rescued who had begun following you — before you both found the very thing you’d been searching for so late in the night — a creek.

“if we follow the stream, we should find the shop pretty easily.” satoru reminded you, to which you nodded your head. you’d both received some intel from survivors you’d met in passing earlier in the day, information about a convenience store that hadn’t been completely ransacked yet due to it’s remote location. through the dense woods and then along the creek, follow the stream until the river bends west and then walk exactly east of that.

it was pretty straightforward, and the people you’d met seemed reliable enough with their information. thus, you both decided to trek the path earlier in the day — only, you’d underestimated how thick the woods were.

nevertheless, the information you’d both received turned out to be true. just east of the bend at the river you spotted a small road, leading into the parking lot of an isolated convenience store. it was a shocker that there was even something this far out in the woods, but it’s not like you were about to complain.

the gravel crunched underneath your boots as you walked slowly through the parking lot, and satoru fished around inside his backpack for his flashlight before clicking it on, pointing it in the direction of the store.

“let’s make it quick, i already don’t like that we’re doing this at night.” he murmured, gently nudging your side as he spoke. you nodded your head, turning to glance over at him for a quick second only to find that he’d already been looking at you. when your eyes met you gave each other reassuring smiles, and he brushed his hand against yours for a moment; though he was holding the flashlight in that hand, you felt his pinky curl around your thumb and squeeze gently before he let go, eyes landing back ahead of him.

satoru was the first to walk in the store, stepping carefully over the broken glass shards on the ground where the door had previously been. he shone his flashlight down the aisles, looking both ways inside the store before beckoning you over. “coast seems clear, c’mon.”

you glanced behind you for a moment, where the dog had opted to stay outside as opposed to walking all over the broken glass, and then you looked back ahead and began to follow satoru inside. you had your own flashlight, holding it in the same hand that held your bat, leaving your other hand free to grab onto the back of satoru’s jacket for purchase as you moved closer to him.

the store itself was dark and eerily quiet, save for the gusts of wind blowing in from the broken entryway. several aisles in the front had been cleaned out by travelers already, but closer towards the back your luck finally seemed to turn around. you’d spotted a small pharmacy, gently tugging on satoru’s jacket twice to get his attention as you pointed your flashlight in the other direction.

(that was just another way you two figured out how to communicate with each other without saying a word. if you happened to be standing behind him (or vice versa), holding him by his clothing, you merely just had to tug on the fabric.

tug once to stop walking, twice to get his attention, three times if there’s danger. it was simple and effective.)

“let’s stock up on meds,” you whispered, and he nodded, now following your lead as you headed in the direction of the pharmacy. you set the flashlight down on the counter, silently handing him over your bat before placing your palms down on the flat surface. hoisting yourself up, you hopped onto the counter and swung your legs around, landing softly on the ground on the other side. “stay there, i’ll be quick.”

satoru nodded. though, even in the dark, you didn’t miss the look of concern that flashed over his features for a short moment. “be careful.” he whispered back, for the nth time in the night, as he watched you disappear down the aisles in the back, heading towards the stockpiles of medicine. though he couldn’t see you, he could see the shine of the light from your flashlight on the walls, and it calmed him down enough to let you go on your own.

you inhaled a deep breath, making a mental list of all the supplies you currently had, what you were short on, and what you needed. though you and satoru had a means of transportation that you used every now and then, you still couldn’t afford to be carrying too much in your backpacks, lest it weighs on you and slows you down. a quick scan of the short aisles was found to be of use; you pocketed several emergency medications, some over the counter and some that you knew would have to have been prescribed under normal circumstances. they were the harder, more effective painkillers, which were all the more addictive.

you tossed several items in your bag, as well as some extra gauze and other medical kit items you happened upon, and once you were satisfied you zipped it all up and pulled it over your shoulders again. the haul was simple and quick, a little too easy, and you let your guard down too much because of it. you’d nearly missed the low growl just around the corner of one of the aisles, in the very direction you were headed.

you stopped in your tracks, hairs immediately raising on the back of your neck as all of your senses were alerted. you peeked around the corner and lo and behold, there it was — a zombie, limping about with its head hanging low. it seemed unaware of your presence, of the way you nearly stumbled backwards in fear, your heart racing in your chest as your back hit the shelf behind you with a small thud.

you froze in place at the sound, hearing a soft grunt emitted from the creature, and you could hear the way it dragged its feet as it slowly approached the aisle where you were hiding. your hands trembled as you tried to think of what to do, instinctually reaching behind you to grab your weapon from your backpack, except—

fuck. you left it with satoru.

wait— satoru.

you scrambled for purchase as you stood up straighter, trying to peer through the shelves to spot the white haired male, but you couldn’t see him very well from the corner you were at. you were also certain he couldn’t see you, nor the zombie for that matter, but what you could see was the faint glow of the light he was shining inside the pharmacy as he waited for your return.

in that very instant, a lightbulb might as well have shone above your head the way your face lit up with the idea you just got. biting your lip in anticipation, while also getting ready to make a run for it if needed, you pointed your flashlight up at the ceiling — a sight you were certain satoru would notice.

and then, you clicked it off. and on again. three separate times.

almost immediately you heard him, the sound of his boots squeaking on the floor as he hurriedly jumped over the counter, running through the aisles in search of you. the zombie, who was once mindlessly walking around, seemed to be more alert now, as another growl tore through its gnarled lips before it started to follow the sound from satoru. you took the chance to catch it by surprise, grabbing the largest item you could find within reach, and tossing it in the opposite direction, hoping to lead it away from him.

the commotion from the object you tossed helped satoru figure out where you were hidden, but it only worked to anger the creature further, as its eyes seemed to follow the source of the noise and trace it back to you. upon making eye contact you audibly gulped, and just as the creature lunged at you, you quickly dodged its bony fingers and ran past it, shoving it to the side in the process and just barely missing the way it almost tore into your arm.

you weren’t really paying much attention to where you were going, just running on pure adrenaline by that point. you blindly turned a corner and came face to face with another body, one you were too panicked to discern, making you yelp in shock when you felt a strong set of arms wrap around you.

“hey, hey,” satoru’s voice broke through the haze just before you could shove him away, and you could only blink in surprise as he pulled you tighter into him, shushing you gently as his eyes searched the surrounding area. “you’re okay, it’s just me. i got you, you’re safe now.”

as he spoke he pulled back from the hug, eyes scanning over you as best he could in the dark to assess whether or not you’d been hurt. but then his head snapped up at the sound of the zombie approaching, and just as quickly you snapped out of it too. you pulled your bat out of satoru’s backpack as he grabbed another weapon of his, a silencer that truthfully was in need of another reload soon, and you both got into position.

the zombie lunged at you again but you were better prepared this time, swinging the bat in your hands hard enough to knock it down on the floor. just as you did this you felt satoru’s hand on your shoulder, and he stepped around you to point the silencer at the head of the zombie before pulling the trigger, taking the final shot at the creature.

it slumped into the ground, finally dead, and though the adrenaline was still slow to leave your system you were admittedly much more relaxed now. especially because satoru’s hand was now sliding down your back, turning you around and pulling you back into his chest once more.

he held you firmly, about as firmly as he held you on that fated day a few months back, just after you’d both narrowly avoided the chase of a horde. his breathing was labored against your hair, though you were not doing any better — huffing softly against his chest as you hugged him back just as tightly, letting the bat fall to your feet to focus on returning his embrace.

neither of you said anything after that, but satoru couldn’t have been standing any closer to you as you both made your way through the rest of the shop, occasionally grabbing some extra food and other miscellaneous supplies before finally heading back out into the night. the same dog from before had been patiently waiting the whole time, bounding over to your side excitedly once you both emerged into the parking lot.

you both then made the trek back through the forest, weapons in tow and satoru’s hand firmly grasping yours once more.

the sound of you whistling was equally as soft as it was loud enough to capture satoru’s attention, and satoru’s head snapped up from where he was fastening the tarp over the back of the pickup truck you both hijacked a month or two ago. using the tarp to conceal some supplies and belongings you two had gathered over the last few days, he tightened the knot and closed the trunk before stepping around the pickup and over to your side.

“check this out,” you waved him over, eyes fixed on a point past the trees in the surrounding area. you lifted a hand to point in the direction you were staring and he followed your gaze, raising an eyebrow in intrigue when he spotted what you were talking about — a road sign.

more specifically, a road sign with coordinates spray painted over it. longitude and latitude coordinates.

“huh,” he hummed, nodding his head slowly. “what d’you think that’s for?”

you shrugged, turning around to face the passenger side of the car as you spoke. “could be anything, really,” you mumbled, reaching inside through the lowered window of the car and opening the glove compartment to pull out the road map you’d both been using, as well as a small pencil.

you walked over to the hood of the car, placing the map flat on the surface of it and smoothing it down as you read the coordinates on the road sign again. “it could be another supplies shop, an abandoned facility turned refuge, a small community…” you trailed off as you spoke again.

satoru nodded in agreement, helping you pinpoint roughly the exact location the coordinates had set, and it appeared to be about a couple hours worth of driving away from you two.

“you wanna check it out?” he offered, leaning on the hood of the car as his glaze flitted up to your face. the expression you adorned seemed contemplative; you chewed on your lower lip for a short moment before decidedly making up your mind. with a small nod you met his eyes, giving him a small smile of intrigue.

“sure, why the hell not?”

satoru grinned with you — he couldn’t help matching his smile with yours every time he saw it — raising his hand and squeezing your shoulder before wrapping an arm around you. “sounds like a plan, let’s hit the road.”

you both climbed into the pickup, and the dog (the very same one you rescued the other night) excitedly sat in-between the two of you on the cushion of the large seat. and then you were off, headed towards the nearest highway to begin the drive to the unknown location.

“okay, so,” you began, examining the map and the road signs around you as satoru began to press on the brake, slowing down just enough to look at the surroundings. “according to the map it should be a little offset from this road, north east from here.” you pointed forward and satoru nodded, carefully pulling the pickup off the road.

“i think we should find some place nearby to crash for the night, in case it turns out to be nothing.” satoru thought out loud, glancing at you for a moment before fixing his gaze back on the road. the dog at this point had laid down beside you, its head on your lap, and satoru couldn’t help smiling fondly at the sight.

“yeah that’s a good idea, i think down there’s an old residential area… you wanna try scoping it out?” you suggested, and satoru nodded in agreement.

you both drove for several more minutes before deciding to pull over in a secluded area, making sure to mark where you left the car hidden from the main road, and then you both grabbed your backpacks and started the short trek to the abandoned residential area you’d spotted. the dog followed closely behind you two, and as you both approached the street, satoru’s hand once again reached out to grab yours and squeeze it gently.

it seemed that anywhere you both went these days, satoru’s hand always sought out yours. whether it was for comfort or to remind himself that you were nearby, or perhaps to even soothe yourself, you weren’t sure. but you squeezed his hand back, anyway. you let him know you were still there with him.

he doesn’t let go of your hand until you both find a small house down the road, only doing so to fasten his grip around his rifle as the two of you prepared to enter the abandoned home.

it’s important to make sure the place is safe first before entering it. that includes ensuring the home is not only zombie-free but also human-free. you’ve both had your fair share of incidents and run-ins with some bad folk, and you didn’t want anyone to get the wrong impression if they saw two total strangers trying to sleep in the very same place they’d taken as refuge.

but as you both entered the house, the distinct lack of any signs of life was evident in the dusty appearance it had. the door creaked on its hinges as satoru pushed it open, and instantly the dog was squeezing past the two of you,sniffing out the area. whether or not he was also searching for any hints of someone or something’s presence, it was unclear to the two of you. yet you both trusted the dog would react to anything out of the ordinary, so you stepped inside with small sighs of relief.

“it doesn’t have a second floor, so we should both be good here for the night.” satoru said aloud, to which you nodded in response. the two of you spent the next hour or so prepping the home and ensuring all the doors were locked, curtains drawn and windows boarded before sealing yourselves in one of the bedrooms.

it was routine, at this point. find a place to stay, seal it off, stay close to each other. that’s what you both did every time; that’s why you never questioned why satoru was particularly clingier during the nights with you. how he tugs on the hem of your shirt, pulling you closer to him as he approaches the bed you’d both be sleeping in, not wanting you out of his sight even for a single moment.

“i wonder what we’ll find there,” he thought out loud, lifting the blanket on the mattress and shaking the dust off of it before setting it back down. he did the same with the pillows, and then his attention was back on you, grabbing your elbow and gently urging you to climb into the bed with him. it was subconscious, almost pure instinct the way he did it. and you followed without a second thought, just as you always did.

“i hope it’s not a waste of our time, that’s for sure,” you huffed softly, slipping your shoes off and glancing over at the dog laying in the corner of the room one last time before climbing in next to satoru. you pulled the blanket over your legs, and satoru’s arm was soon finding its way across your shoulders, pulling you further into his side. “though this area doesn’t seem so bad, maybe we could stay here for a bit too.”

satoru simply hummed in response, his other arm sliding across your midsection while your own arms wrapped around his torso. your head plopped onto his shoulder, and just like that you both lay, relaxing against the kind of comfortable bedding that you rarely ever come across these days.

satoru closed his eyes for a moment when your head nuzzled further against him, lips parting slightly with every soft breath you exhaled. he felt that familiar pull in his heart again, tugging towards you, naturally. his arms tightened around you with the feeling, swallowing thickly as to push away what he knew was coming next — the intrusive thoughts.

thoughts of not being able to keep you safe, of losing you to the madness that’s overtaken the world. or worse yet — of him dying. of you being left alone, with no one to hold you at night the same way he is at this very moment. he can’t stomach the thought of you being alone; he thinks he fears that more than the prospect of his own death in that equation.

satoru just… he just wants you to be safe and cared for. the world is so, so barren… and so lonely. he wouldn’t be so worried about this if you both still had your group with you, but now you both were all that was left of it. he was all you had left, and you were all he had left. he promised himself a long time ago that he was never going to leave your side, no matter what.

“satoru.”

“hmm?” he hummed, rubbing your shoulder soothingly in a way that showed you that you had his attention.

“stop thinking so much,” you yawned, pinching his waist softly, making the man chuckle. “get some sleep.”

“okay, okay. i’ll try.”

he closed his eyes again, his head lolling to the side and leaning on top of your own as you both drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms. dreaming of a kinder world, a world where he got to simply be with you and not have this lingering fear in the back of his head. one that always seems to remind him that every sweet moment could have such a bitter end.

he falls asleep with you in his arms, safe and sound for the night being. all with the promise of getting to see the sun again by the time you’ve awoken.

“i think this is it,” you muttered, lowering the map shielding your view to scan the area ahead of you once again. yet another stretch of woods that didn’t seem as promising as you’d both hoped it’d be.

satoru whistled lowly, a hand resting on his hip as he quirked a brow and looked around. “should we keep walking? see if there’s anything worthwhile?”

you hummed softly, contemplative but a little dejected in manner. a sigh escaped your lips as you pocketed the sordid map, head lolling to the side afterwards to spare an uncertain glance at satoru. even if he didn’t know you like the back of his hand, if he didn’t commit every single mannerism and expression of yours to memory, reciting it like you were his favorite poem — he still could’ve just as easily picked up on your reluctance to go any further. but he also saw an insatiable curiosity in your eyes, so all it really took was a gentle nudge in your side to convince you.

“c’mon, let’s at least make sure this wasn’t a complete waste of our time.”

you pursed your lips in consideration again before nodding slowly, giving him a playful smile as you gestured ahead of you. “ladies first,” you teased him, followed by a snort when he stuck his tongue out at you in response.

he lead the way for a few steps before slowing down his pace, all with the intent of walking side by side and grabbing your hand. he swung it back and forth for a bit, relishing in the small giggles that left your lips.

“someone’s awfully cheerful today.” you mused, beaming up at him when he gave you a bashful grin in response.

“i guess i just… have a good feeling about this, i dunno.” he shrugged, smiling down at you in a way that warmed up your whole being more effectively than the sunlight peeking through the tree branches above you.

you chewed on your lip as you nodded, eyes flitting down to the dog who was walking just a few feet ahead of you both, curiously sniffing the ground with every step it took. you tilted your head in amusement, about to comment on the action, but then a shot rings out and a bullet hits the ground just ahead of the dog.

a sharp cry leaves the startled animal as he stumbles away from the sudden sound, ears back and tail tucked between its legs while it quickly runs to hide behind you and satoru. the sound also startled you both, as you were instantly grabbing a hold of each other, eyes darting in all directions, frantically searching for the source of the shot.

“you there!” a voice calls out, booming with every syllable, and the moment satoru spots the source of the speaker he’s stepping in front of you, shielding you protectively from the gun pointed in your direction.

“you both travelers?” the man, now appearing more fully from behind a large bush, calls out to you both as he speaks. you and satoru hesitate for a moment in your response, unsure how to assess the stranger, but then you both slowly nod in confirmation.

“this is a protected area.” he states with a click of his tongue, slowly lowering the gun yet still keeping his guard up. his eyes flit between the expressions on yours and satoru’s faces, and then he raises an eyebrow. “how’d you get all the way out here?”

“we, um,” you began, fingers curling around satoru’s arm a little tighter as you cleared your throat. “we came across some coordinates, we weren’t sure what to make of them so we decided to check out the location ourselves.” you answered truthfully, exhaling shakily once you’d finished speaking. “we— we mean no harm to you, promise.”

satoru nodded in agreement, though there was no denying the way his fingers twitched over the strap of his own rifle, pure instincts telling him to pull out the weapon and point it back at the man ahead of you two.

when the stranger took a second too long to respond, satoru took a careful step backwards, hand now firmly gripping the strap of his rifle that was slung over his shoulder. satoru’s other hand slid around your back, pulling you closer to him protectively as he raised his chin. “we can get out of your hair, if you’ll let us go.” satoru proposed, tone firm as he addressed the man who was still pointing his gun at the both of you.

the man tutted, brows still furrowed as he examined you both for another moment longer. he seemed to take a deep breath, grip tightening around his rifle, gaze narrowing, and then— his shoulders dropped, he lowered the gun in his hands and he nodded his head in the direction behind him.

“you two, follow me. you can bring the dog.”

you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, and then shared a hopeful glance with satoru as you both carefully took a few steps forward. you're not sure how you didn’t notice it before but the man lead you both to a short trail that was close by, leading to a large fortified community at the end of it. giant wooden gates with watchtowers on every end and several more armed guards. satoru’s grip on his own weapon relaxed, but only for his other hand to tighten on your side, almost like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

he tugged on your sleeve twice, hesitating around a third tug until he felt your arm link with his, pulling him down closer to whisper in his ear.

“this place seems pretty legit.”

his eyes flitted over to your expression, and it was that of pure awe. you were taking in all the surroundings with careful attention to detail as the gates opened up and you were both welcomed inside the community. satoru probably should’ve been paying more attention himself but he found it hard to tear his gaze away from the awestruck look on your face.

the way it made his heart swell, how he had this urge to squish the plump of your cheeks when you grinned widely, how the smile stretched across your whole face. he can’t remember the last time he’d ever seen you look so hopeful.

he was so caught up in your presence, he was almost convinced he dreamt up the next thing he heard.

“…suguru?”

the name registered in his head after a bit of a delay. it all happened so slowly, his senses only working one after the other. his eyes first saw the way your expression froze, your lips spelling out a name that looked familiar. then touch was next; he felt the way you tugged once on his arm, how your fingers curled around his wrist and tightened hard around him, hard enough for it to feel like the joints in your knuckles were going to get stuck in that position. finally, came sound — the sound of the gravel kicking in front of you both as you stopped dead in your tracks, the name you uttered, the object that dropped to the floor a few feet ahead of you both.

satoru turned his head and saw him. his eyes trailed up from the basket of fresh fruits at his feet (honestly, he can’t remember the last time he’s had a fresh strawberry), the trembling hands that had been holding that basket, and then his gaze finally landed on the shocked face of the man in question.

suguru geto, someone neither of you had seen in literal months, someone you thought to be dead for the longest time. a member of the small group of survivors you both used to be part of, the very group that you’d both stuck with since the beginning of the end.

“holy shit.” satoru’s voice finally caught up to him, though it sounded far away. he couldn’t believe his eyes, and neither could you — the two of you were blinking like deer caught in the headlights.

suguru was the one to move first, having caught his bearings faster than either of you. “huh… i can’t say i’m surprised you two made it out alive and together.” he chuckled, his shocked expression morphing into a breathy laugh as he stepped forward.

you were the next one to snap back to reality, breaking out into a laugh of your own as you let go of satoru and ran forward, immediately jumping into suguru’s space and pulling him in for a hug. “oh my god, oh my god! you— you’re alive, suguru! suguru you, you’re—”

you were rambling, laughing with the surprise you felt as you squealed at the sight of an old friend, another familiar face at the end of the world. satoru was silent, evidently still processing the presence in front of him as he took slow steps forward. you let go of suguru to look back at satoru and beckon him forward, and suguru grinned when he sensed the confusion in satoru’s face.

“c’mere man, i don’t bite. it’s just me.”

satoru blinked again, but then he was smiling just as wide as he pulled suguru in for another bone-crushing hug of his own, gripping the other man tightly as he breathily laughed against his shoulder.

“fucking hell, suguru,” satoru laughed, still in shock, and he couldn’t help the way he started rocking side to side as they held each other. “have you just been chilling here this whole time?”

suguru laughed with him, patting his back before pulling away from the hug to look him in the eyes as he spoke. “technically, there were a few weeks of shoko and i just wandering around before we found this place, and we’ve been here ever since.” suguru beamed, his smile growing when he heard you gasp beside him.

“shoko’s here too?!” you gaped, eyes no wider than the smile on your face as you hurriedly spun around, looking around to search for her.

“yup,” he grinned, raising his hand and pointing in the direction of a small shop across the street. “last i saw she was just over there, checking out some vegetables.” suguru said, and before he could get another word out you were excusing yourself to run off in that very direction, searching for the woman in question.

satoru was smiling too at the news, and when he saw you run off to find her he stepped forward to follow you, as was his instinct; only, a firm hand on his chest stopped him from doing so.

“wha—” he stammered as he turned to look at suguru, unsure why the other man was stopping him from following your trail.

“we can meet up with them in a minute, there’s something i wanna ask you real quick,” suguru announced, slinging an arm around his friend as he pulled him back in the opposite direction. satoru was unsure how to respond to that, unsure what to make of this weird sensation in his chest, turning his head to glance over in the direction you’d run off in while suguru knelt down to retrieve the basket he’d dropped.

it was like an itch he couldn’t scratch. suguru almost didn’t pick up on the way it made satoru look desperate to keep you in his sights, if not for the way the taller man kept glancing back every now and then as he followed suguru to a small house down the street.

“so,” suguru huffed, dropping the basket down onto a table before turning to face satoru, crossing his arms over his chest with a raised brow. he opened his mouth to say something else when he noticed satoru was not paying attention, instead anxiously tapping his foot and looking out the windows of the home.

“they’re fine, y’know…” suguru mumbled, seemingly reading satoru’s mind, the concern he held for you plastered all over his face. “this place is completely safe. we rarely get anyone to join the community since it’s pretty remote, and everyone here is extremely nice. i trust all of them with my life.”

when suguru says this satoru only nodded slowly, gaze still fixed on the window as he tried to peer down the street. he finally caught sight of you exiting the shop you ran into a few minutes prior, arm linked with shoko’s while you both excitedly chatted together. there was a skip in your step, satoru noted.

suguru noticed the way satoru’s demeanor visibly relaxed, with the faintest smile appearing on his face.

“you two finally got together, then?”

this is what catches satoru’s attention, what has him facing suguru with his mouth gaping wide open. “wha— what are you—”

suguru cuts him off with a chuckle, shaking his head gently. “is that a no? honestly, the way you were holding onto each other earlier, i’d have suspected otherwise.” he teased.

satoru only frowned with suguru’s comments, a trace of uncertainty mixed with another emotion pooling in his gut and making his heart clench a little. “i— i’m not sure what you’re, uh… we didn’t— i, um…” he stammered, cheeks tinting a dusty pink shade with how flustered he’d become.

suguru’s teasing grin fell a little bit, seemingly understanding the flurry of emotions that caught satoru off guard. it’s hard, after all — hard to entertain something so trivial when you’ve only ever had the time to worry about your own survival for longer than you can even remember.

it’d only been a couple of years since the apocalypse began, but to anyone on the outside of this community, it was like a lifetime had passed.

“forget i said anything,” suguru smiled comfortingly, extending a hand to squeeze satoru’s shoulder. his own attempt at soothing the crease in satoru’s brow, helping bring the taller man back to the present moment and out of the rampant thoughts in his head. “why don’t we go meet up with the others and i’ll show you both around?”

satoru nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat as he let suguru lead him out of the small house and back onto the streets, over in the direction where you and shoko were chatting on a bench.

it was a heartfelt reunion with the four of you, and as suguru and shoko showed you both around and introduced you two to the rest of the community, nobody commented on the way satoru was gripping onto the hem of your jacket the whole time. even though suguru and shoko shared a knowing glance, they knew better than to say anything. not with the way satoru’s voice cracked, lips shaping themselves into a small pout whenever you would move away from him, even if it was just to examine something closer.

even as you both were officially inducted by the heads of the community, and brought to the townhouse you would be staying at, satoru still felt that strange ache in his chest when you unlocked the front door and you both walked in to find that there were two beds, rather than just one.

you could say he was a little attached, but he was just dreading sleeping in his own bed tonight.

“hey, ‘toru?”

you snapped him out of his thoughts, and he blinked a little dumbly as he fixed his gaze on you. he saw the furrow in your brows, and like clockwork he was stepping closer to you, reaching forward to lightly pinch your arm in an affectionate gesture.

“hmm? you okay?”

you nodded your head, wrapping your hand around his wrist and holding his arm gently before you pointed in the direction of the bedroom with your free hand. “which, um… which bed do you want?”

his eyes flitted to the beds behind you, and then back to the expectant look on your face. it was an odd expression, almost like you weren’t sure of the answer yourself.

it doesn’t matter. i’ll sleep wherever you want to sleep.

“uh, you can go ahead and pick first. i’m good either way.” is what he replied with instead, shrugging his shoulders and almost wincing at the tug he felt in his heart when you gave him a sheepish grin.

“alright… if you say so,” you giggled softly, chewing on your lower lip as you glanced over at the two beds before turning back to him. “i think i’ll just take the one in the corner, then, if that’s alright.”

satoru smiled at you, maneuvering the grip you had on his wrist to slide his hand into yours with ease. “it’s all fine with me.”

you gazed at each other like this for another moment longer, and then your attention was pulled away from satoru when you felt the dog pawing at your leg, whining softly beside your feet.

“oh, you must be hungry,” you pouted, giving an apologetic smile to the dog as you turned around. “here, i got you something at the food stall earlier with shoko.”

satoru watched as you turned around, letting go of his hand to walk over to the backpack you’d set down near the front door. you fished around inside of it before pulling out a paper wrapping, revealing the diced potatoes you’d gotten. you picked one out from the wrapping and knelt down, extending your hand forward to offer the piece of food to the dog.

it sniffed your hand for a moment, assessing the food before gently taking a bite. you smiled wider as the dogs ears perked up, tail wagging and walking closer to you to get more of the potatoes.

“here, this is all for you, buddy.” you giggled, setting the wrapping down on the floor to let the dog eat from it in peace. satoru watched this exchange with another fond smile; there was a sort of domestic feeling about this that his heart really liked. it was beating rapidly in his chest when your eyes met his again and it didn’t slow down even as you approached him again.

“let’s get ready for bed then, yeah?”

earlier in the afternoon you were both offered a fresh change of clothing, as well as some utilities to shower and freshen yourselves up. you were pleasantly surprised to find that the running water was actually warm; you can’t even remember the last time you got to have a relaxing shower. you think you even almost cried underneath the shower head, the water dripping around your teary eyes as the relief finally settled after flooding into your body.

you can’t recall ever having felt so calm in your life.

satoru was faring similarly; he was unable to stop the laughter bubbling up in his chest the second the water pellets landed on his head, smoothing down his white hair that had been covered in dirt for months. even as he wiped the steam off the mirror once he stepped out, he almost didn’t recognize himself — almost didn’t recognize the stark brightness of the fluffy strands on his head.

he rubbed his face with the towel before stepping out, and he was surprised to find that you’d already fallen asleep on your bed, curled up on top of the covers and holding an extra pillow close to your chest. he lingered beside his own bed for a moment, his gaze fixed on you for a second longer before he urged himself to climb into his own bed and go to sleep.

he couldn’t blame you for falling asleep so fast, really. it was a blissful feeling getting to wash away the soreness in your muscles, the dirt and grime that’d built up after months of traveling through a barren world. he even thinks the noise he just made was almost akin to a purr; a moan of pure content as he sunk into the mattress, head falling against the pillow as he willed his bones to melt against the cushions.

and yet, he still couldn’t bring himself to fall asleep.

couldn’t quite ignore the building ache in his chest again, an anxious bubble in his heart that wouldn’t pop no matter how hard he poked and prodded at it. he rolled onto his side, facing one end of the room where the dog was laying comfortably on a small bed you’d set up on the floor for it; a pile of throw blankets and a pillow for the little companion you’d both made in your travels.

he squeezed his eyes shut, unaware of how tightly he was gripping the pillow beneath his head. he rolled onto his back again, tossing and turning for what must have been 10 whole minutes before he finally faced you again. he noted the way you were holding the pillow to your chest, nuzzling your head against it.

he thinks if there was anything that could quell the rapid beating of his heart right now, it would be the feeling of your hair tickling his jawline, fluffy strands poking at the exposed skin of his neck as you slept on his own chest.

“satoru?”

satoru blinks, lifting his head up at the sound of your voice from across the table. you were both sitting in the breakfast hall near the community square, having joined suguru and shoko for the morning to catch up with the two of them. satoru hadn’t really been doing much of the talking, though.

“sorry, i spaced out a little.” he murmured, giving you a small smile. he could tell you didn’t fully believe his words from the way you narrowed your gaze questioningly, but he gently nudged your leg with his shoe. “you were saying?” he added playfully, highlighting the lighthearted remark with a small tilt of his head.

truthfully, satoru was exhausted. he barely got a lick of sleep the whole night. he didn’t want to convey that to you, though; how else was he supposed to explain that it was the most relaxed his muscles had felt in ages, and yet he still couldn’t quell the anxious feelings that bubbled up. what initially started as a low simmer in his chest now had the threat of boiling over and spilling out of his heart. he was losing his grip, and he couldn’t even begin to explain why.

“well, i… was just wondering,” you continued after another moment, eyes worriedly scanning satoru’s demeanor before flitting back to the other two on your table. “since it’s just you and shoko here, would you happen to know what happened to the rest of the group?”

you worded the question as carefully as you could manage, watching for their reaction to the presumably sensitive topic. just as you’d anticipated, suguru’s expression fell, his lips curving downwards into a frown as he averted his gaze.

“they, um…” shoko, who was sitting beside you, spoke up to answer your question instead. “most of ‘em didn’t make it. we— we tried to go back and save some of them, but…” she trailed off, chewing on her bottom lip as she too looked to the side.

“there wasn’t much we could do, in the end… we had to be selfish, to save ourselves.” suguru added after a moment, his gaze now focused on nothing in particular while he directed his voice in your direction.

satoru had been silently picking at the food on his plate for most of the conversation up until now. after hearing suguru’s response, satoru’s actions paused, and he slowly lifted his eyes up from the table to see the expression on your face. your lips were also downturned, gaze cast down on the table while you used your nails to pick at the corner of your plate.

satoru’s eyes then trailed downwards, past the small clench of your jaw and your stiff posture before finally landing on your other hand. it was extended a little forward on the table, past your plate and resting near the corner of satoru’s own. he instantly noticed a subtle twitch in your fingers, how they almost tapped absentmindedly on the table.

your wrist then began to turn, fingers slowly unfurling to reveal your palm, which was now facing the ceiling. and when satoru looked back up, he saw that your eyes were already on him. without breaking eye contact for a single second, he lifted his hand from the table and slid it over to yours, gently pressing two of his fingers into the center of your palm.

and he felt that ache in his chest again when your own fingers immediately wrapped around his.

“but what matters is that we’re here now,” shoko breaks the tense silence once more, sliding closer to your side on the seat and wrapping an arm across your shoulders. “all of us. we finally found each other again.”

it’s unanimous across the four of you, how you all stick by each other’s sides. with the dynamic of a found-family in the midst of so much chaos — you’ve all finally reached a point where you can settle down and discuss these things amongst each other. it’s a well-deserved breath of fresh air.

yet, satoru still feels it. the slight tremble in your hands, how your fingers slide into his own palm and grip his hand tightly. it’s then that he comes to terms with it, that near-paralyzing emotion in his chest.

satoru needed this, all of this. he needed the break, the ability to settle down and clear his mind for once — but most importantly, he needed you.

he needs you; he thinks he always will need you, for as long as he has the fortune of living in the very world you reside. your own existence permeates into the depths of his soul, making him feel like he was always meant to be with you — regardless of the circumstances that led you to him. the very same circumstances that forever changed the world around you both.

the breakfast hall starts to clear up, and the four of you gather your plates and set them aside for the community volunteers that work in the kitchens. by the time you’re all back out underneath the sun, the mood seems to brighten up once more. suguru is smiling again and shoko is laughing about something with you but satoru still feels stuck, like the weight of his emotions is finally caving in on his heart. what he actually needs right now is a moment to pull himself together.

it’s not until he makes a move to excuse himself — to walk back to the small house you both share — that he realizes you were still holding his hand in your own. when you turn to face satoru with a questioning glance, he offers you a small smile.

“i’m gonna go check in with the dog,” he tells you, a lie sprinkled with some truth to disguise it better. “i thought i’d give him my leftovers from breakfast.”

it doesn’t seem convincing enough, but his hand slips out of your grasp before you could say anything about it. he dismisses himself from the conversation and waves at suguru and shoko, promising to return a little later before he walks off in the opposite direction.

now it’s your turn to feel his absence, unable to tear your gaze away from the trail he leaves in the grass as he walks away. if you’d asked him for an honest answer, he’d have told you he didn’t want to sour the mood with the raw emotions threatening to spill out of his heart. but then, you’d have simply responded by saying that the lack of his own presence near you was doing just that anyway.

you’d only managed to stick around with the other two for just a few more minutes before it started to eat away at you.

sometime later, a soft knock on the bedroom door is what pulls satoru out of his train of thoughts, and he looks up from where he was petting the dog lying comfortably on his lap to see you poke your head through the small opening in the door frame.

“hey there,” you murmured, smiling softly before slowly pushing the door open and stepping inside the room. “you okay? the others were pretty worried about you.” 

satoru offers you a small smile, eyes lingering on your own for a moment before he looks back down at the dog on his lap. “‘m okay, just a little tired today i think…”

you hummed in response, following his gaze and seeing how the dog nuzzled into his touch, appearing to be so content when satoru scratched softly behind its ear. “i get it. it’s a, um… a bit of an adjustment being here after everything,” you offered, closing the door behind you and walking over to him. you took a seat on the corner of the mattress, your hands fiddling on your lap as you thought about what to say.

ironically, satoru actually thinks that he should instead be having a harder time sitting still. how do you go from constantly moving, day in and day out, never once stopping to absorb anything in your surroundings for months — to then settling in one place for an indefinite period of time. it has barely been 24 hours since they found this small community but satoru simply thinks he should be wanting to do more, he should be craving it.

but he’s yet to feel that itch to keep moving, too caught up in all the other confusing feelings in his chest that weigh on his soul like an anchor. too caught up in the heat of your palm when you hold his hand; how you look at him like you’re trying to read his mind, even though he should be the one to soothe your worries instead. to smooth the crease in your brow with a gentle press of his lips on your skin, if you’d let him.

as you sit on his bed now, carefully studying his reactions — he also hesitates. he should be more surprised that he finally has the room to even think about something like this. when you’re both outside these gates — outside the fortification that protects you both from danger — you can’t afford to hesitate.

he never once had to think twice about his instinct to hold you close and never let you go, but right now it plagues his mind like the very disease you’ve both been running from all these years.

satoru went silent again. the hand petting the dog on his lap stills, and your gaze flits up to see the faraway look on his face. how his eyelids have started to droop, the exhaustion finally catching up to him. every few seconds he widens his eyes and blinks, as if trying to keep them from closing, but then they start to fall again against his will.

“did you get any sleep last night?” you finally asked him, scooting further up the side of the bed until you were sitting right beside him. he watched your movements with a sort of calculated precision, trying to make something of the sudden skip in his heartbeat, but then he sighs and leans back against the headboard.

“i couldn’t really fall asleep,” he admits, his voice heavy with the exhaustion that’s slowly seeping into his bones. you hummed in response, now feeling the urge to reach out for him. you lift a hand from your lap, pausing midair when you start to overthink your action — but satoru notices. his eyes meet yours and there’s this look in them you can’t quite figure out, but it’s like he’s silently screaming at you to do something. to welcome back the physical closeness you’d both grown so accustomed to the past few months. to hold him and never let go.

after another short moment, you finally lift your hand and extend it further, reaching up to smooth down the strands of his hair that were sticking out a little awkwardly. almost immediately his eyes fluttered closed, leaning into your touch with a sort of deprivation that’s been gnawing at him ever since you both got here.

the dog then jumps off his lap, startling you as you watch it land on the floor and walk to the other side of the room. you subconsciously start to pull your hand away, eyes fixed on the dog as it settled into the pile of blankets you left for him overnight. but then you feel satoru’s fingers curl tightly around your wrist, holding your hand in place.

“stay,” he croaks when you meet his eyes again, cerulean irises swimming with an intensity that’s almost foreign to you. “please…”

wordlessly, you nod. satoru moves aside on the mattress and it takes you a second too long to realize he’s inviting you into his space again. you climb in without another second wasted, feeling a weight lift from your heart when his arms wrap around your frame securely and pull you into his chest.

he exhales, closing his eyes and wrapping himself so tightly around you that it’d have been suffocating if you weren’t hugging him back just as tightly. it’s not long before he ends up falling asleep like that, finally able to relax again now that he’s holding you close.

you find yourself falling asleep in his arms as well. neither of you say anything about it, and you surely don’t question it later on in the evening when he climbs into your own bed for the night — as he continuously does for every night that follows.

a week has now passed, and it’s officially the longest time you’ve both spent in any given place for the last 4 months. satoru still climbs into your bed every night, and though the ache in his chest has yet to leave, he thinks it’s much easier to manage now.

that is, until he wakes up one morning to an empty bed.

he thinks nothing of it at first; stretching his arms out blindly to feel around for you, thinking you probably rolled around in your sleep and slipped out of his grasp. no worries, he can just curl up into your side again to sleep in a little more. maybe even slink his arm around your waist and pull you back into him. but when he’s met with nothing but a persistent lack of your lingering warmth on the sheets, he peels his eyes open and lifts his head from the pillow to really take a good look. he finds that you’re not in the room at all.

again, he doesn’t bat an eye. a part of him wishes he could’ve woken up with you but he had a late night chatting with suguru, so he doesn’t necessarily blame you for getting up first to grab breakfast without waiting for him. he stretches his arms above his head with a sleepy squeak, sitting up and craning his neck to the side to catch a glimpse of the dog, who was sleeping soundly in his little corner of the room.

satoru gets up then, changing into some more casual clothing and slipping his shoes on. even as he steps out the door, he doesn’t notice the fact that your backpack is not where you left it the other day.

he reaches the breakfast hall after a short walk, expecting to find you sitting with the others, but he’s only met with the sight of suguru sitting by himself at the table.

okay, that’s… no big deal. maybe you already ate and you’re just down the street with shoko. besides, suguru must have slept in too. it makes sense when satoru thinks about it like that.

satoru grabs a plate of food and takes a seat across from the other man. he smiles politely as he lifts his fork, resisting the urge to ask about your whereabouts before he’s even said ‘good morning’ to his best friend.

“morning,” suguru smiles back, stretching his neck to the side to crack it. they make a bit of small talk, but suguru can tell from the anxious tapping of satoru’s foot that his mind is nowhere near present in their conversation.

“where’d the other two head off?” satoru casually drops the question during a break in the conversation, and suguru hums softly. there’s a knowing look in his eyes as he watches satoru eat another forkful of his breakfast, the way the white-haired man pretends the question hasn’t been on his mind since the moment he woke up.

“ah, they left early this morning,” suguru shrugs, though his nonchalance was poorly misguided. he’s thankful he caught on to the way satoru instantly stiffened, because it helped him choose his next words a little more carefully. “they mentioned something about getting the car you both left hidden not too far from here. shoko suggested leaving early to catch a ride with one of the armed guards that patrols the woods, so at least there’s that.”

suguru mistakenly thinks he did enough to diffuse satoru’s incoming reaction, but he’s proven wrong when the fork slips out of satoru’s hand and drops onto the plate with a loud clatter.

“thanks for dropping us off!”

you waved to the armed guard after shutting the car door behind you, heeding the man’s advice to keep your weapons in tow as you watched him drive off. you turned to shoko then, who was looking around the residential area with an impressed grin.

“there’s a ton of abandoned houses here, it’ll definitely come in handy if the community starts growing more.” she commented, already drafting up all the different ways the community could expand. “within reason, of course.”

you chuckled, nodding your head in the direction you started walking, an indication for her to follow you. “were there that many people when you and suguru arrived?” you asked, making casual conversation as you both began to walk down the empty street. she hummed in response, smiling as she thought back on the last 2-3 months that she’d been there with him.

“honestly, yes and no…” shoko laughed, stuffing her hands in her pocket and kicking a pebble on the ground. “believe it or not, a lot of people actually come and go. they’re pretty strict about the rules to maintain everyone’s safety, but it rarely ever needs to be enforced… everyone’s good about following them,” she explained, swiveling around the toothpick she was holding between her lips.

“that being said, though, some people tend to just up and leave without a word after a few weeks. the first few times it happens you’re kinda like— ‘woah, why is no one out looking for them?’. but after a while you get used to it. some people just… find it hard to get used to living a calmer life again after everything that’s happened,” she says, her expression thoughtful as she speaks. “in other words, i’m pretty sure they’ve become adrenaline junkies.” she adds with a snort. “no one ever stops them from leaving, it’s why there’s always a bed available for the next traveler that stops by — though even that doesn’t happen too often, either… we’re nestled pretty deep in the woods.”

you nodded along with her words, your gaze kept forward as you both continued walking. “that explains why they were so willing to let satoru and i stay there.”

this made shoko scoff playfully, and she nudged your side with her elbow as she did. “trust me, even if they weren’t so willing, they’d have to pull suguru and i away kicking and screaming if they denied you two.”

the two of you laughed together at the mental image that produced. as your laughter died down you spared a glance in her direction, eyeing the pick she was gnawing on. “you quit smoking?” you asked her, gesturing her hand towards the object in her mouth.

she nodded with a proud smile, grabbing the pick with two of her fingers and making a blowing motion, as if she were exhaling smoke. “cigarettes are getting a little harder to come by these days, no one over at the community smokes,” she explained, licking her lips before putting the pick back between her teeth. “this old lady who works the kitchen — she’s a real sweetheart, lemme tell you… she always noticed how antsy i used to get when i was trying to quit, how i would always reach for my mouth expecting to find something there to grab between my fingers. she walked over to me one day and just handed me a whole bunch of toothpicks, so the habit of me reaching for something is a lot easier to manage. kinda like how people used to chew gum to quit, back in the day.”

“huh,” you hummed softly, grinning at her as she spoke. “that was really kind of her to do.”

“yeah,” shoko grinned, looking down at the ground again. “turns out she used to be a heavy smoker too, so she recognized the ticks i’d get. she was really helpful.”

you smiled wider, nudging shoko gently with your elbow. “well, i’m proud of you for overcoming that. it can’t have been easy.”

she grinned bashfully, waving you off for a moment before linking her arm with yours. you both continued down the road, finally reaching the house you and satoru had stayed in about a week ago. you walked around the house, towards a small clearing in the back where you both had tucked the pickup truck away from plain sight.

“here she is,” you grinned, slapping a hand on the hood of the vehicle. “satoru and i found this pickup a little over a month ago — y’know, siphoning gas from abandoned cars outside city areas is actually a lot easier than i thought it’d be.” you snorted, setting your backpack down to fish out the keys you had.

shoko grinned as you spoke, about to respond with a lighthearted comment herself when a rustling in the trees caught her attention. her ears perked up, gaze narrowing as she tried to make out what the source of the noise was.

a low growl was then heard, and you both froze where you stood. just around the car, several feet away, there were two zombies, dragging themselves around the area. shoko reacted quickly, grabbing your arm and pulling you out of sight, the two of you kneeling in front of the car and hiding from the creatures that were yet to spot you.

“shit,” shoko muttered under her breath, her own adrenaline spiking as she tried to look over the side of the pickup. you were now moving a little frantically, trying to find the small set of keys in your bag, occasionally glancing up at shoko who was still keeping watch. “please tell me you’ve found them.”

“almost…” you trailed off, resisting the urge to exclaim out loud when your fingers brushed against the metal ridges of the car keys. you let out a sigh in relief, pulling them out and zipping up your bag, which you then slung over your shoulder. “got ‘em.”

shoko nodded, gulping as she glanced back over at the creatures that were now standing closer to the pickup. “we have to lead them away from the car. i’ll distract them while you get it started,” she suggested, but you were quick to shake your head in disagreement.

“like hell i’m letting you do that on your own,” you muttered, and shoko fought back the smirk that pulled at the corner of her lips.

“then we’ll take one each, whoever kills their zombie first starts the pickup.”

“you’re on,” you grinned, shaking shoko’s hand. “i’ll leave the key in the door, you go ahead first.”

you carefully got up on your feet, bending down low enough to remain hidden as you began to walk around the front of the car. as you were putting the key in the door, shoko stepped out in front of the two zombies, unsheathing the machete she was carrying on her belt as she did. both zombies began to run after her, but you were quick to jump out with your bat and grab the attention of one of them, pulling it in the opposite direction.

you managed to get a good distance away from the car, but the zombies were moving a lot faster than you were used to. you quickly spun around, swinging at the creature before it could lunge at you, instantly landing a hit and knocking it down. though it recovered quickly, too — just before you could swing at its head it attempted to grab at your legs, making you stumble backwards as you narrowly avoided getting scratched.

“you little shit,” you muttered, feeling your adrenaline peak with frustration. you swung again and it was knocked back into the ground, and this time you made sure to kick it down for good measure. your foot landed on its head and you swung your bat at the arms that reached out for you, managing to break apart the already dead limbs with the help of the barbed wire around the barrel of your weapon.

you then removed your foot and took a single step back, lifting the bat high above your head before bringing it down as hard as you could. with your own physical strength and the sheer momentum of the swing, you were able to crush the zombie’s skull in just one hit, killing it instantly.

the sound of the engine of the pickup truck coming to life pulled your attention back to the original task at hand, and you looked over your shoulder to see shoko had successfully killed the other zombie, beating you to the car first. she waved you over, and you spared one more glance at the zombie at your feet to make sure it was really dead before you turned around and ran towards the pickup, a relieved smile making its way onto your face.

“that wasn’t so bad,” shoko grinned at you as you stepped into the car, huffing in relief. as soon as the door closed behind you shoko put the car in drive, pulling out of the area and onto the street as she drove you both back to the guarded community. “you did pretty good back there.”

you chuckled breathlessly, waving off her compliment. you adjusted your position where you sat, moving one leg underneath the other to get more comfortable, but then a sharp pain sensation shot through your ankle, making you wince in pain.

“shit, you okay?” shoko asked you instantly, gaze flitting rapidly between you and the road ahead of her. “you didn’t get scratched, did you…?”

you shook your head no, though you lifted up your own pants up to your shin to double check. fortunately, there wasn’t a scratch, but your ankle looked a little swollen. “ah, fuck… must’ve been when that motherfucker tried to grab at my legs,” you mumbled, pressing your fingers against the joint and hissing softly. “i did stumble a little bit, i might’ve bent my ankle at an awkward angle without realizing.”

shoko nodded, a small frown appearing on her face. she could only catch short glimpses of you while she drove, which made her huff softly in frustration. “i’ll wrap it up for you as soon as we get back,” she promised.

the injury itself wasn’t too bad; you were still able to walk on your own with only a mild limp, but shoko was still insistent on wrapping it up to help with the swelling. you left the pickup with the other vehicles near the entrance of the community, and then you both walked back down the familiar, safeguarded streets. shoko excused herself to search for suguru, wanting to update him on the events of the morning, and you decided to head back to the house to drop off your things before meeting up with them. after you both parted ways, you reached the house in no time, but as you opened the front door you were surprised to find satoru immediately cornering you at the entrance.

“satoru, hey—” you began, about to greet him before he cut you off, grabbing your wrist and immediately dragging you towards the couch. he pushed the door closed with his other hand, a little harshly at that, making you jump slightly in surprise. “um, is everything okay?”

satoru didn’t say anything as he dragged you over to the couch, immediately pulling you down onto the seat and sitting beside you. he then lifted your arm, turning it around in his grasp, inspecting it closely before dropping it and moving on to the next limb.

“what are you—” you tried to say, but as you looked up at his face you immediately cut yourself off. his brows were furrowed, face set in a deep frown as he examined you for any potential scratches or injuries. you’d have teased him for the way he showed his concern for your safety if you didn’t catch the dull look in his eyes next, how the otherwise bright blues were now a pale gray color. his jaw was clenched tight, cheeks puffy and the skin around his eyes red, almost a little irritated. he looked like— wait, was he crying?

“satoru…” you tried again, voice much softer now as you recognized the look on his face for what it was. he was still quiet, now lifting one of your legs up onto his lap, still inspecting. “satoru, i’m okay. we just went to get the pickup truck, we’re both fine.”

he grumbled something underneath his breath, ignoring you again as he lifted your other leg. this happened to be the leg with your injury — and as he grabbed your ankle and hoisted it up onto his lap, he was quick to notice the wince you tried to hold back. he blinked up at you, feeling his heart stop in his chest.

very hesitantly, he looked back down at your ankle. he lifted up the fabric of your pants just a little bit, enough to expose the compression wrap shoko had fastened around it earlier. he knew it wasn’t a bandage wrap, which told him that you likely just twisted your ankle. but it didn’t make him feel any better — didn’t really do anything to stop the way his hand trembled as he gripped the fabric of your clothing.

“what happened?” he rasped, finally breaking his tense silence as he looked up at you. carefully, you pulled your leg off his lap, watching how his hands fell limply to his sides.

“i stumbled a bit and kinda twisted my ankle, it’s a little swollen but it doesn’t hurt too much.” you explained carefully, but satoru was hanging on to every word like a vice.

“you just tripped?”

“well, not really—”

“so, what, you fell?”

“no—”

“were you guys running from something?”

“satoru,” you snapped, your tone a little louder than you’d have liked it to be. “relax, there were some zombies that showed up. we killed them with no problem, i just lost my footing at one point. it’s not a big deal.”

you were getting irritated with the bombardment of questions, that much he could tell. but it felt like something inside of him was trying to claw out of his skin, and he just kept pushing, and pushing…

“…not a big deal?” he scoffed, scowling at your nonchalance. “since when is you almost dying not a big fucking deal?”

it was your turn to scoff now, rolling your eyes in annoyance as you stood up from the couch. “god, you’re so damn dramatic. you’re acting like i was being careless about it.”

“excuse me for thinking you were when you come back hurt!” he exclaimed, voice raising in pitch as he stood up and followed after you. “why the hell didn’t you tell me you were headed out there today?”

“you were still sleeping!” you argued back, raising your hands in surrender. “was i supposed to wake you up for something that didn’t even take up the whole morning?”

“um, yes?” he spoke sharply, staring at you in disbelief as he stopped behind you. “forget letting me sleep in, we’re supposed to do these things together!”

“shoko was with me the whole time,” you defended yourself, voice still raised as you crossed your arms over your chest and glared at him. “i know you always feel insanely protective of me but that doesn’t mean you have to swoop in like some knight in shining armor all the damn time, i can take care of myself!”

“don’t be ridiculous,” he barked back, his tone sharp and words cutting. “you sure did a hell of a job at that, coming back with a fucking twisted ankle.”

satoru heard it as soon as the words left his mouth, but his heart was so far up his throat that he couldn’t stop himself from saying it on time. he clenched his fists at his side in frustration, feeling something ugly twist low in his gut when you flinched at his harsh words.

“oh, go fuck yourself, satoru.”

he feels his breath catch in his throat, helpless to the way you spun on your heel and slammed the bedroom door closed behind you. he should give you your space, he knows he should. but he also knows he’s physically incapable of letting you go, of loosening whatever grip you currently have on his heart. how the muscle rattles against his ribcage to the beat of your name, driving his every action before his brain can think logically through them.

thus, he opens the bedroom door and his feet drag him in your direction.

“where are you going now?”

“what does it matter to you?” you retorted, throwing your hands up in defeat as you walked further into the room. “is the bedroom now too dangerous for me to be in by myself?”

“ugh, that’s not—” he groans in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stops in the middle of the room. “it matters to me, okay!”

“but why?” you questioned, now facing him once again and walking towards him to further drive your point home. “why does it matter to you so much, huh?!”

“because…” he starts, huffing out another frustrated sound when you stop in front of him to poke your finger into his chest. he wonders if you can feel how hard his heart is beating right now. “because—”

“because?” you repeated, growing more impatient by the second as satoru stumbled over his words. “you seemed pretty damn sure of yourself barely a minute ago, don’t start backtracking now.”

satoru stutters again, the frown deepening on his face the longer you look at him, waiting for an answer he can’t bring himself to give you yet. “because, it— it just does, okay?!”

you scoffed at him, rolling your eyes and removing your hand, and that ache in his chest from before is steadily returning as he watches you turn your back to him once more. he takes a risk, reaching out to grab your wrist, but it only makes you shove at his chest.

“i said fuck off,” you groaned as you pushed him back, only to then grip on the fabric of his shirt as you held him in place, keeping him from actually leaving. he blinked at you in confusion, his breathing labored with the way his heart was about to give out on the spot.

he reaches for your wrist again, this time grabbing it securely, fingertips ghosting underneath the hand of yours that’s currently gripping his shirt. you look over at him when he does this, opening your mouth to say something else, but no words come out.

satoru realizes, then, that there’s simply never any time for anything. you both live in a world full of uncertainties, full of so much danger and full of all the longing glances you spare his way when you think he isn’t paying attention. and he can’t waste the unknown amount of time he has left with you any longer. he decides, then, that you deserve to know what it is exactly that he’s been trying to wrap his head around since you both stepped foot inside this community about a week ago.

but the way you’re looking at him right now, he finds it hard to get the words out; hard to convey what exactly it is that you do to him.

he takes a deep breath, eyelids fluttering in surprise when he finally notices the other hand you raised up to his face. you were not quite cupping his cheek but rather tracing your fingers lightly along his jawline, considering grabbing a hold of him. his fingers tighten around your wrist, your eyes meet his, and it all stops then.

time stops; it grants the two of you the chance to catch up to it.

satoru’s face rushes forward before another second could pass, aided by the way you pulled him into you with your tight grip on his shirt.

he kisses you, and he thinks the world must have stopped spinning on its axis, too. how you kiss him back like you’re tired of beating around the bush, like you’ve been craving this as badly as he has.

he could be more modest about it, but there’s no such thing as modesty when you make him feel like someone set off fireworks in his chest. they’re shooting up, up, and out of his mouth — all into yours along with your mingled breaths.

you both pull away for a moment, a rather short one. you blink like you can’t believe your eyes and his hands tremble as he grabs your face to pull you back in. this kiss is more hurried now — rushed and a little desperate. you even feel him whine something incoherent against your lips, the sound instantly swallowed by you before it could properly register in your ears. he kisses you hard and the sheer force of it has you stumbling backwards, bumping into the nightstand beside your bed, knocking down an object that was placed on it.

“oh, shit—” you broke the kiss again, turning your head to look down at the object that fell, but satoru grabs your chin to make you face him again. his lips are back on yours before you can even respond.

“s’toru,” you squeaked against his lips, almost wanting to laugh at how rushed he’s being, but he simply whines again. his hands are all over you now, he can’t figure out where to leave them to rest. his heart is actually beating out of his chest and your lips are so soft and he thinks this is what heaven must feel like. “satoru.”

your tone is firmer now, his name only slightly muffled against his lips. you bring a hand up to his chest and gently push him back, and this time he actually listens. pulling away from the kiss and gasping loudly, like a diver finally coming up for air. his lips are swollen and you’re sure that yours are, too. his cheeks are a dusty shade of pink and his pupils are blown, hair slightly tousled from his movements. you think he looks so beautiful like this.

“sorry,” he huffs after a moment, still panting softly. his hands have now settled on your waist, squeezing the flesh gently as he steps forward, ever closer to you. “‘m sorry, i—… fuck, you’re just…” he trails off, closing his eyes to lean his forehead against yours with a low hum.

“you drive me so insane, you know?”

this pulls a giggle out of you, a soft sound that he finds himself wanting to hear again and again. a small grin makes his way onto his face and he peeks his eyes open, instantly meeting yours. your hands are behind you, leaning on the nightstand he cornered you into, but you lift one of them up to brush some of the hair out of his face. his eyes flutter closed when you do this before he opens them again.

“i’m sorry,” he mumbles softly after a few moments, thumbs rubbing small circles into your sides. “about what i said earlier, i should’ve— i do trust you, but i just… i was really worried about you. i worry about you all the damn time, i don’t know what i’d do with myself if something ever happened to you.”

the sincerity in his words makes you frown slightly, feeling touched by what he’s said. “i know, ‘toru…” you sigh, your hand reaching up again to rub his arm soothingly. “and i really appreciate that, i do… but please just try to have a little more faith in the decisions i make without you, okay?”

he nods slowly, his eyes closing again as he inhales a shaky breath. “jus’ please let me know in advance next time. when suguru told me earlier where you guys where, i think i might’ve actually lost it,” he chuckles softly, the sound heavy on his tongue with the weight he feels in his heart. “i kept— fuck, i kept thinking about all the worst case scenarios. i kept thinking— what if you didn’t come back? what if last night was the last time i’d ever see you? so much…” he pauses, his grip on your waist tightening significantly. “there’s so much i want to say to you. stuff i thought i’d never get the chance to say because i was so scared you wouldn’t come home earlier…”

home, he says. it’s funny — he never uses that word to describe the place you both find yourselves in. they’re simply never permanent enough to bother getting used to; giving it a name would only make you grow attached to what’s essentially more of a pit stop.

satoru doesn’t use the term in a traditional aspect. he just happens to think home is anywhere that he can be with you.

you stayed quiet as he spoke, letting him vent his feelings out before saying anything in response to them. your hand slides up his arm to cup his cheek, rubbing your thumb under his eyelids; he’s not crying but there’s a waver in his voice. and he knows it shouldn’t — there’s nothing wrong with feeling as much as he feels, after all — but the sheer vulnerability makes him feel so weak, so weak and so small. he trails off again when your thumb caresses his cheekbone, eyes fluttering closed for the nth time underneath your touch as he leans into it further.

a heavy sigh leaves his lips, his forehead comes down to lean against yours again. you gently kiss the tip of his nose, and he almost melts into the floor in that very instant.

“it’s… hard,” you began, choosing your words carefully to convey what it is you’re both struggling with. “the world we live in, nothing is— i mean, there’s only so much we can do to look out for each other…” you bite your lower lip, unsure where your thoughts are taking you; what the train’s next destination looks like.

satoru opens his eyes again to meet your own. he sees the uncertainty swimming in them and decides to take a dive — head first into the water.

“i hope you know that there’s absolutely nothing i wouldn’t do for you.”

you blinked, only momentarily caught off-guard before your face fell into a soft grin. “satoru…” you trailed off, shaking your head with another giggle.

“i’m serious,” he huffs a small laugh, his expression finally relaxing into a grin that mirrored your own. a smile as sweet as honey; he could never get enough of you. “i’m so serious, like— i would do absolutely anything.”

“yeah?” you laughed softly, now moving to take a seat on the edge of the mattress. you slid out of satoru’s grasp but his hands were quick to find you again, taking a seat next to you and immediately grabbing your own hands. he held them together on his lap, giving them a gentle squeeze for good measure before you continued speaking. “but what if it was something, like, really stupid?”

he laughs at this, leaning forward to nose at your cheek affectionately. “doesn’t matter, i’m doin’ it anyway.”

you giggled again, feeling a warmth spread throughout your face at his affection. (there was another question you had for him, something a little darker… but that was a thought you didn’t want to entertain. at least, not right now… one of these days, you think to yourself. i’ll ask him when the time comes.)

“so…” satoru hums softly after your laughter dies down, letting go of one hand to snake his arm around to the back of your neck. his fingertips lightly dance along the edge of your hairline at the back of your scalp, the featherlight touch sending shivers down your spine.

you take a moment to think about what to say, gaze holding his as he gently rubs your neck. “we don’t know how much time we’ll have together, with… everything going on,” you began, pausing to inhale deeply before you continued. “but, i don’t wanna waste anymore of it.”

you squeeze his hand back to accentuate your words, a resolute confirmation of your mutual feelings. “if this is what you want, then… i feel the same. and— and i want this, too…”

you don’t think you’ve ever seen his eyes shine so brightly, the way they’re practically glowing with adoration right now. you both share a look and he makes a small sound; a sort of hum, nodding his head in understanding as he does. he brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a firm kiss to the back of your knuckles. he closes his eyes as he does, and when he opens them again he’s quick to pull you into his arms. by the hand on the back of your neck he brings you into his chest, holding you in a tight embrace, laughing softly into your hair.

“i do,” he huffs gently, slowly rocking your bodies side to side when he feels you hug him back. “i do want this, more than anything i’ve ever wanted in my life.”

he pulls back from the hug after a few moments, rubbing his thumb over your cheek and gazing at you with a sickeningly lovestruck look in his eyes. his eyes scan your face, every minute expression, carefully weaving them into the very fabric of his heart.

then his eyes land on your lips again, and you already know what he’s thinking when he slides both of his hands up to cup the sides of your neck, thumbs resting just below your ears.

he pulls you in for another kiss, and this one’s much softer, slower. his lips mold together with yours so perfectly, like you were both crafted by the gods with each other in mind. a love that’s fated, sealed together in the way he pulls you close to him. the way he lets out a content hum as you kiss him back, the corners of his lips curling upwards into a smile he can’t bring himself to hold back.

as the kiss starts to deepen your arms slowly slide up his chest, slinging around his neck to pull him impossibly closer to you. he has half a mind to pull you up onto his lap but he doesn’t want to startle you again, so instead pushes forward, slowly hovering over your body as you start to lean back against the mattress. his hands move back down to glide along your sides, gently moving you down onto your back, and before you even realize it you’re both laying side by side.

satoru’s now half leaning over you and half laying beside you, his legs slowly tangling with yours. your hands card through his hair, his tongue swipes over your bottom lip and when you reciprocate the action he moans softly, the sound reverberating in your mouth—

and then he’s pulling away, tucking his face into the crook of your neck to try and calm himself down. soft, labored breaths tickling your skin as he inhales your scent.

you both continue to lay like this for an indiscernible amount of time; the only sounds in the room are that of each other’s breathing slowly evening out. after a while he lifts his head up and the flush on his face makes you want to kiss him breathless again and again, but before you can pull him in for more, a soft knock on the front door is breaking through the haze he’s cornered you both into.

“hey, you guys there?” suguru’s voice is muffled from the other side of the door, and satoru has to suppress the groan that threatened to leave his mouth at the interruption, which makes you giggle softly. “shoko and i are headed to the park, if you both wanted to join us.”

you hum in contemplation, glancing back at satoru who’s sporting a small pout on his face. he slowly shakes his head as if to tell you to say no, but you just give him your best smile before calling back out to suguru.

“yeah, we’ll meet you guys there!”

satoru actually groans now, his face falling back down to hide in the crook of your neck as a form of protest, making you laugh at his petulance. his arms wrap around your waist as he hugs you tightly, mumbling incoherent complains into your skin.

“i can’t hear you, you big baby,” you giggled, stroking his hair for a moment before you gently pushed at his shoulder. “c’mon, we can grab something to eat from the dining hall on the way there. i’m sure you haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.”

he grunts again, lifting himself up so that he was holding his weight above you, supported by his hands planted on the mattress at either side of your body. “fine, but you owe me.”

you snorted at that, sitting yourself up so you were now eye to eye with him. “owe you what? i didn’t do anything wrong.”

he scoffed at that, shaking his head with a feigned serious expression on his face. “at least one more kiss before we have to go.” he grumbled, though the look in his eyes was entirely playful and doting.

you rolled your eyes at him with a fond smile, lifting your hands up and squishing his cheeks before pressing a short, chaste kiss against his lips. “there, are you happy?”

he shakes his head with another small pout, the sight comical with the way you were squishing his face between your hands. “nuh-uh, one more.”

“satoru,” you warned, but you were already leaning in for another kiss anyway. this one was just a little bit longer than a peck, and as you pulled away you felt him chase your lips with his own before he pulled back with a soft sigh. “you can get more kisses later.”

at that proposal he grinned cheekily, finally lifting himself up off the bed and extending a hand to help you up as well. “i’m definitely holding you to that, just so you’re aware.”

“i wouldn’t put it past you,” you giggled again, graciously accepting his extended hand and getting up on your feet. he smiled down at you as you did, squeezing your hand again for good measure before he led the two of you out the door. the dog excitedly followed you both out the door, providing a picturesque scene of pure content across the atmosphere that surrounded you.

with the promise of finally holding and having each other comes another certain fact — you weren’t going to waste another minute of your time without his heart in your hands. a delicate exchange between the two of you that would last for as long as you have the fortune of living in such a desolate world.

tagging 4 funsies: @cinnamoneve @forest-hashira @ctrltoru @bhaalism @ohimsummer @lovelyless-fiction @yunymphs @marimogf @kissxcore :3 love u guys mwah

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CHUUNIBYOU, DELUSIONS, AND LOVESICKNESS !

[ PREMISE ] — IN WHICH a chuunibyou and the strongest are in the same room thus chaos ensues. As the seed of love has begun to be planted.

⪩ FEATURING : teen gojo satoru x chuunibyou male reader ( fluff , semi-crack? )

"Gojo-sensei has (last)-sensei talked like that ever since you two met?" a curious pink haired boy looked at him with eyes filled with interest in his eyes. "Well yeah, as far as I know," yuji eyes widen nodding at this, "then how'd you learn what he says?" gojo shrugs his shoulder turning into a badly drawn chibi, "dont know."

Yuji stares at him as he too turned into a comical chibi, "for real?"

"for real," gojo nodded his head.

Nobara getting curious to the conversation looked at them, "how'd you two meet?"

"oh simple we were just in the classroom and then a wierd kid cames in,"

"like?"

"like,"

—

"Gaze before thy for I hath arrived, I, Prince—" Gojo satoru turned deaf when he first met the wierd boy with an eye patch. Saying things he doesn't understand and could careless to this, satoru gojo truly does not wanna listen to this, 'is he a chuuni?' he thought to himself staring at the male before him.

With how the bandages in their hands even though he doesnt have one, the eye patch, the theatrics like way of talking. Yep, he concluded that he is a chuunibyou. "art thou listening to thy?" you asked at him pouting slightly making the albino haired male looked at you with raised eyebrows and agape mouth looking confused. "What'd you say again?"

A visible tick mark appeared in your forehead as you glared at him, "hmp! how rude, thou does not have any respect at thy! but nevertheless since thou asked listen clear servant! I, (name) (last) is the Prince of condemnation bringing justice to the evil doers that leak on this world for thy hath come on this world to bring peace and happiness to thy's beloved people!"

Gojo stares, shoko stares, and getou stares at them as he did a pose showing off his eyes that isnt on a eye patch having a smug smiling proudly. Then gojo smiles at him, the two of his other classmate eyes looked towards the two male. "are you chuunibyou?" he asked making the two others sweatdrop at his straightforward.

While you only huffed, "what a rude words thou hath said to thy, I'll let it slide for thy is a benelovent prince!" gojo smiles at this walking closer to him, "eeeh? really? your actually cute you know that? are you one of those himedere or oujidere in games? chuunibyou oujidere?" he bombarded the boy in question making him feel his heart warm, as if a panda has hugged his heart. You looked at him pouting pointing your finger at him in a accusing way, your eyes fiery, glaring at him, "do thou not know respect! thou must call thy your highness! and many more etiquette rules!"

"oooh~ your so cute your highness~" gojo smiles at this seeing your embarassed or flustered state smirking as he continues to egg on you making you refute back at him. Getou sigh trying to calm down the teasings of gojo pitying the delusional boy before them, "satoru stop egging on the poor boy," shoko nodded at this agreeing on the black haired male said, "yeah or else I'll report this as bullying,"

"hey dont do that I'm your friend!" satoru whined pouting glaring at them his jewel like eyes looking at them with betrayal. "Shut up shameless servant! thy much prefers these respectful ones over thou!"

"oh cmoon I'm much more better your highness~" gojo satoru doesnt mind having a classmate wierd as you, afterall your just fun to mess with.

—

"oh wow, if I were (last)-sensei I would've punched you," nobara said looking at the gojo clan member with deadpan eyes as satoru only smiled, "now thats just horrible treatment," gojo chuckles as he remembers the many days how he teases the chuunibyou until he himself slowly fell inlove with them.

"oi! hath thou been eaten thy's pudding?!"

The male teacher turned rigged hearing your voice filled with rage as he sweated awkward, "uh oh, bye kids daddys gonna be gone for a while," with that he ran away as you yelled at him accusing him of eating your food.

"deserved." nobara muttered.

"creature of myth."

pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+  ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)

You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off. 

You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all. 

You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it. 

Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married. 

Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags. 

You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding. 

The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times. 

The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying. 

When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance. 

Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold. 

You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income. 

The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me? 

Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of. 

“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.” 

You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before. 

You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.” 

Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”

You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you. 

“Yes, my lady?” 

You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?

You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?” 

There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”

Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps. 

You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you? 

You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness. 

You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing. 

You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home. 

You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come. 

You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly. 

You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning. 

You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags. 

You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle. 

You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and- 

“Do you like them?” 

You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 

He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul. 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie. 

Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him. 

He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained? 

“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.” 

Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.” 

There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips. 

“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.” 

You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling. 

“Of course… Satoru.” 

He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet. 

“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies. 

“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.” 

There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever… 

“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.” 

You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?

“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming? 

He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.” 

You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?

Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue. 

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.

Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?” 

His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks. 

“Not tonight.” 

His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch. 

His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence. 

“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone. 

You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened. 

~  

You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed? 

That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense. 

When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person. 

“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all. 

You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”

A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking. 

“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?” 

You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver. 

You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.” 

That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.” 

There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.

~

If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains. 

Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in. 

The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you. 

You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again. 

He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse. 

“It was… good.”

You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas. 

You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume. 

That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.” 

A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind. 

Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.” 

You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.” 

You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.

It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin. 

“You’re not… eating?”

That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.” 

Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?” 

You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.” 

The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room. 

By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough. 

“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue. 

“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.” 

You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.” 

He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?” 

You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”

His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?” 

You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.” 

He chuckles. “My pleasure.” 

When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight? 

He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you? 

You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?” 

His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse. 

“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone. 

~

You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon. 

Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare. 

As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.

~

The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge. 

The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.

~

You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he? 

You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.

Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you. 

Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right? 

You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there. 

It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”. 

You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye. 

“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.” 

You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further. 

“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.

A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages. 

“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.” 

Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph. 

“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”

You skip ahead again.

“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”

Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe? 

“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.” 

No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second. 

“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.” 

You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening. 

“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.” 

No, no, no. 

“(See next page for only existing portrait)”

Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible. 

You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you. 

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru. 

You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows. 

“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense. 

You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting. 

Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine. 

“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?” 

His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.” 

No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you. 

“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further. 

“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…” 

You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”

You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?

“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you. 

You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does. 

“About the estate?” he asks. 

You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”

His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?” 

You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”

“Anything interesting?” he presses.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.” 

He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”

You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.

“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.” 

You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.

His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.

“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-” 

“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why. 

You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him. 

He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…” 

You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.

He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch. 

Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine? 

“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?” 

He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real. 

“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point. 

“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper. 

“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in. 

You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.

He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.” 

Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him. 

“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.

“Mhm?” 

You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.” 

He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.” 

He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight. 

“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago. 

“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?” 

The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.

His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?” 

You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be. 

He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?” 

Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe. 

You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.” 

You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?” 

You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone. 

“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin. 

“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt. 

He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.” 

His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has. 

You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less. 

“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning. 

His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long. 

“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s 

thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked. 

Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity- 

“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. 

Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re– 

“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature. 

His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.” 

You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper. 

His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.” 

You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust. 

His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb. 

“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.” 

You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further. 

He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?” 

Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer. 

Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?” 

Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”

You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch. 

There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.” 

By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod. 

His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth– 

You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing? 

Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire. 

“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.” 

Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is. 

When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?

“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move. 

Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop. 

You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake. 

“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.” 

“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision. 

Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer. 

There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done. 

Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation. 

“S-Satoru–”

“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.” 

You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp. 

You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…

He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”

It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts. 

“Satoru, p-please! It’s–” 

Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.

“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin. 

“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants. 

He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do. 

“Yes,” you whisper. 

His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath. 

He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments. 

“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…” 

He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come. 

Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull. 

His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens. 

When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like. 

His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants. 

He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”

You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago. 

He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave. 

“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.

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hello !! ૮˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ა i really love your writing and your soft scenarios, they bring me so much serotonin and happiness to be honest !

i don’t know if you take requests still, but could you please do a part two of jjk men + short partner with geto? only if you want to of course, i’ll respect your decision either way don’t worry! thank you so much! <3

JJK MEN + SHORT PARTNER

featuring. geto suguru, itadori yuuji, sukuna ryomen x reader

warnings. reader is a non-sorcerer (geto)

note. hihi nonnieeee <33 thank you so much for saying that, you don't understand how much you saying that makes me so happy :(( i'm so glad that my works can bring you happiness omg. this is part two to the short partner headcanons.

part one.

GETO SUGURU. geto honestly could care less about your height — he finds you so adorable that he sometimes can't help but to pinch your cheeks gently, tugging your flesh and squeezing it lightly out of love; it has turned into a small habit that he does to you.

"sugu, no more, my cheeks are going to swell," you tell him, covering your cheeks with your hands to prevent the male from touching it again.

geto couldn't help but to chuckle at your reaction. you're so cute, so small compared to him that all he wanted to do was to poke fun at you. laying his large, calloused hand on top of your head whenever you both sit side-by-side, softly shifting just to pat you.

he will put you on his lap, playing with your hair as you do your own thing. you know a perk of being a shortie? when you sit on a certain height, you get to swing your legs lightly, letting it just flail above ground — and when you do that, geto stares at you lovingly.

"i'm a little jealous of you," your boyfriend mumbles, leaning his chin on top of the palm of his hand. his eyes gazing to your figure as you swung your legs lightly.

"why?"

"you get to swing your legs like that," he pointed his index finger to your legs and you stopped swinging your legs, "why'd you stop?"

"so you won't feel jealous."

geto easily pulls you into his embrace, nuzzling his head into your neck, "keep doing that, 'm enjoying it, you know?" he mumbles, pressing a kiss onto your neck.

he hates non-sorcerers, but when it comes to you? he just can't hate you.

ITADORI YUUJI. ABOSLUTELY LOVES YOUR SHORT HEIGHT. he would and will help you take things that are out of your reach — won't make fun of you, don't worry, I assure you there will never be a scenarios where yuuji makes fun of you. he just thinks you're so perfect, and he gets really sad when you make fun of yourself.

"baby, why would you say that?" he asks you, pulling you close, laying his head on your shoulder.

"yuuji, because it's true," you chuckled, brushing his hair.

"but i like that part of you. your height," he muffles into your clothes, leaning into your touch.

he gets so mushy with you — i'm not even kidding, will grab you, throw you over his shoulders and walk around anywhere. greeting people he know on the way, even gojo or nanami (while you're on his shoulder, also greeting them).

"nanamin, hi!" yuuji greets, walking past the older male as he turned to look at both you and him, you waved at nanami when he turns around to look — and he waves back at you, confused.

yuuji is clingy. but you don't mind — he will latch himself onto you, do you know how parents hold their baby when they're trying to teach them how to walk? yuuji does that with you, even if you're not that much shorter than him; still short, he still does it. because you're his baby, and he won't accept anything else.

"c'mon baby, left and right, left and right." he guides your arms forward, standing behind you.

as you took a step, he takes one too — like teaching a baby how to walk, it's cute really, "yes, just like that," he laughs. god, he's having so much fun with you.

yuuji won't let anyone call you short, even gojo. will fight anyone who makes fun of you, and not even kidding. he will not back down from defending you.

"what do you mean they're too short?" he retorts back, rolling his eyes, "you're too annoying and nobody's saying anything."

SUKUNA RYOMEN. huge. tease. about it. will go on until you cry — but will make it up to you in his own way. he's not one to say how much he loves you, but you do know that he does. he just refuses to say it.

"ryo, stop. it's not funny anymore." you mumble out lowly to him, pushing his chest away.

he chuckles deeply, but when he realizes it was serious; he stops, turns away for a bit before glancing back at you. sukuna isn't much of a crier, so he doesn't know what to do when you cry — he gets a little confused, like, why are you crying because he called you short?

"why are you crying, brat?" he grunted.

"you're being mean to me."

"i called you short." he sighs out loudly, pulling your arm away from your face — revealing your tearful eyes, "stop crying," he thumbs your tears away from the corner of your eyes.

"then stop doing that, you've done that so many times, it's pissing me off." you mumbled at him, sniffling lightly.

the male groans out, rolling his eyes, "are humans this dramatic?" he asks you, wiping your tears away; pulling you onto his lap, burying his face into the crook of your neck — as much as he tries to put up this tough guys demeanor, he feels bad for making you cry.

but will definitely do it again next time.

it's weird; sukuna shows his love by teasing the hell out of you, pissing you off, making you cry — then ends up feeling bad for a few hours before doing the same thing all over again.

"'m sorry, but i'll do it again next time." he murmurs into your neck.

"you're mean."

"i know. but i love you."

© IPINVRSE 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

The Caged Beast

Itadori Yuji x Reader / Sukuna Ryomen x Reader

There was a curse living inside your husband.

The strongest curse was only able to stay alive inside Itadori.

Rather than choosing death, Sukuna decided to stay in Yuji.

As the years passed, many things happened.

Yuji changed, grew into a man, met you and got married.

You were a kind soul.

Someone even Sukuna looked at with suspicion. 

Kind yet deadly, is the correct description.

You could be smiling, baking cookies in one second and in the next, you could be slaying curses left and right.

Sukuna had to admit, that Yuji chose well. He approved of you.

And now, after three years of marriage, you were pregnant. 

Your first child and Sukuna knew it would be a girl.

A little girl indeed.

A beautiful and healthy little girl. 

A true princess.

Yuji helped you every second of your pregnancy and even now with your baby.

He helped when he didn't have to go to fight.

Like now, Yuji was out with Megumi while you gave a bath to your daughter.

Yui, lovingly named after his father, was a rather calm baby. She liked to sleep and babble when she was awake. 

Yui adored her father and you. She wanted to be held at all times.

A true princess.

You soon dried her with a soft towel and got her into her fluffy pyjamas. 

Placing her on your chest you started to watch a show on TV.

The front door opened, but you were too immersed in the show to care.

"Food is on the table, I'm watching this, I hope the lady wins!" you said not looking away but you did notice your husband walk into the room. He moved over and got Yui from your chest, placing it on his as he sat down next to you on the couch.

His silence should have alarmed you.

It truly should have.

But it didn't.

Instead, you didn't even notice that Yuji didn't say a word until the show was long finished.

Then you felt it, the change, but it didn't scare you.

"Nice to see you from time to time. What prompted your visit?" you turned and looked at Ryomen.

His eyes locked with yours.

"I just wanted to see my Princess." he said as he ran his hand down Yui's back.

"She is Yuji's Princess." you said as you reached for your cup of tea and started to drink.

"I live inside this idiot. You made sure I would never leave. At least, let me have an hour with her."

You found it strange how Ryomen liked your daughter so much.

"You can have your hour. Just making sure you know she is not yours."

"She is My Princess. The only being on this world worth being in this idiot's body."

"Ouch. So it is not worth living for me? And here I thought we had a thing."

"I would have made you my bride. You are way too powerful for me to ignore." you nodded and began to look for something on the TV.

Yui slowly began to stir.

"She must be hungry," you said. "Her bottle is on the counter." you pointed behind yourself, not looking away from the TV.

"Are you joking?"

"It is part of your hour, go feed her." 

Sukuna mumbled something under his breath before leaving to get the bottle.

As he sat in her room, feeding and burping her, Sukuna wondered if he should tell you.

Since he became a part of Itadori's body, when you bonded their souls during a fight, technically this was as much as his body as it was Itadori's. So technically, the child sleeping in his arms was as much his as it was Itadori's.

Yuji asked you during a very intense fight to bond Sukuna to his body. Destroy the rest of his fingers and kill him.

But you couldn't do it.

You love Yuji too much to hurt him, instead, you bonded Sukuna to his soul, using Yuji as a cage to hold the beast.

You didn't know but by doing so, you got Sukuna's blood mixed with Yuji's. You didn't know or rather you chose to ignore the fact.

Sukuna was sure you didn't know but had suspicions.

You were a smart woman after all.

But you loved Yuji. Sukuna was just a plus one in the mix, one no one asked for or needed. But he was there.

Yui is Yuji's daughter. And you will never let anyone tell you otherwise.

--- 

You looked up as he exited the room, it was Yuji this time.

You smiled at him as you rushed to hug him.

"Did you put her to sleep?"

"Yup. Weird, I can't remember coming home."

"You are too tired, let's go to bed." 

Yuji smiled and you both moved to the bedroom.

You quickly fell asleep when Ryomen decided that he still had 10 minutes of his hour.

He looked at you sleeping beside him, it was strange. He only ever cared about power.

He lived to see the fear in people.

And yet, you never feared him, he feared you.

Your fierce attitude, your power and that look... is that what they call a mother's look? You could make the entire room shut up with just one look of yours.

Fierce and powerful. Yuji didn't deserve you in his eyes, he did.

But he was okay with getting just an hour with you and Yui... for now.

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐲'𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

summary: the more important things could wait till morning. for now, it’s only you and him and the sky.

pairing: ezra bridger x fem!reader

word count: 930

warnings: none

The sky was so vast, it made you feel so small. But somehow, you were okay with that. 

Keep reading

Green-Eyed Monster (Ezra Bridger / Reader)

Fandom: Star Wars

Pairing: Ezra Bridger/Reader

Summary:

“ Your one insecurity had always been that you were second to Sabine. Even when Ezra had disappeared all those years ago and your heart had painfully torn in two, you still felt second best. Ezra had left you a beautiful little message telling you he loved you for the first time before he had disappeared, yet Sabine had received one too. Even worse, Ahsoka had taken Sabine as an apprentice years ago instead of you though you both lacked an affinity for the force. Another insult your insecurities had twisted into a blade against you.

Now, ten years later, that jealousy had not dissipated. Instead, it had crossed with the horrible feeling of guilt.

While you had mourned Ezra’s death and moved on slowly, Sabine had never given up hope. She had remained on Lothal for years and always kept her ear out for news of Ezra. You had returned to your home planet and given up hope of ever finding your childhood sweetheart. Sabine had beat you yet again in seemingly being a better option for Ezra.”

Reader gets reunited with Ezra after ten years all while tormented by the thought that Sabine would be a better fit for him.

Warnings: Depictions of a panic attack. Spoilers for Ahsoka Season 1.

Word Count: 7,962

Expected Reading Time: 28:57

Jealousy. There’s a horrible feeling deep in your very bones that rakes a claw down your being. You can feel every deep gash clearly as you scowl at the bottom of your tea. Your fingers curl and uncurl against the handle of the mug as Sabine chatters with Ahsoka.

Huyang turns his mechanic head towards you from the pilot seat and Ahsoka glances your way as if sensing your turmoil from the force, but Sabine remains oblivious. Once more, everyone can sense your emotions except the very target of your ire. You bury your anger as you take a long sip of the tea and let the liquid burn your tongue.

It’s been ten years since you lost Ezra and you still can’t manage to reel in the jealousy you feel towards Sabine. She’s an old friend, someone you trust implicitly, and yet the ugly green eyed monster rears its head every time she’s near.

Ever since you were kids, you envied her. She was an old friend from your imperial academy days and seemed to be better than you even then. She was born to high ranked Mandalorian parents whereas you were born the youngest to farmers in a backwater planet. She climbed up high in the academy and won awards while you hid in her shadow and merely fulfilled requirements. She was scouted by Hera and the rebels while you simply tagged along for the ride.

And she was the person that Ezra originally had a crush on while you watched painfully from the sidelines.

Ten years ago, you had fallen in love with someone you thought you could never have. One Ezra Bridger had won you over and crushed your heart without meaning to. While you had pined for him in the background, he had pined over Sabine. You had watched it all happen while cursing yourself for yet again not being as great as her.

Even after a miracle had happened and Ezra’s sights had turned to you, you had still felt jealousy towards Sabine. While Ezra had reassured you that he liked you and made you his girlfriend, you had still harbored some resentment towards your oldest friend. There had always been a little voice inside your head that had taunted you with the knowledge that Ezra was only yours because Sabine hadn’t wanted him. That you had been a consolation prize and second best.

Your one insecurity had always been that you were second to Sabine. Even when Ezra had disappeared all those years ago and your heart had painfully torn in two, you still felt second best. Ezra had left you a beautiful little message telling you he loved you for the first time before he had disappeared, yet Sabine had received one too. Even worse, Ahsoka had taken Sabine as an apprentice years ago instead of you though you both lacked an affinity for the force. Another insult your insecurities had twisted into a blade against you.

Now, ten years later, that jealousy had not dissipated. Instead, it had crossed with the horrible feeling of guilt.

While you had mourned Ezra’s death and moved on slowly, Sabine had never given up hope. She had remained on Lothal for years and always kept her ear out for news of Ezra. You had returned to your home planet and given up hope of ever finding your childhood sweetheart. Sabine had beat you yet again in seemingly being a better option for Ezra.

For years, she had tried to get you on her side. She had told you to not give up hope and to help her find Ezra, yet you had pushed her away. Your grief and heartache were easier to manage if you told yourself Ezra was gone for good. As much as it pained you, you gave up all hope and harshly rebuked Sabine for still clinging to the idea of him returning. Anything to kill the last shreds of hope that remained within you before time could do it for you.

You had, had a massive falling out and hadn’t spoken in years. Not until Hera had commed you with Ahsoka and told you to return to Lothal because of a lead Ahsoka had about Thrawn.

Thrawn, Hera claimed, was the key to finding Ezra. The two of them had disappeared together. If one of them was rumored to be alive, the other might be too.

You had come back to Lothal after much trepidation and reunited with Sabine. To her credit, she had accepted you back into her group even if things between you were awkward and strained.

Still, being back near her and reopening the wound of Ezra’s disappearance had brought back a decade worth of insecurity and envy.

The tea burns down your throat as you finish it off. You wish Ashoka had packed something stronger. Were you back home, you would have loved to drink until the edge wore off.

Stuck in a ship with Sabine though, you bite your lip.

It truly isn’t fair, you know. Sabine was your oldest friend. You had met at the imperial academy and struck a friendship. You both had joined the empire as a way to rise in rank for your families, and both had seen past the gilded veneer of fascism. Once upon a time, you two regarded each other as sisters and you made quite the trio with Ketsu-

But fate had driven a wedge between you. You had fallen for someone who liked Sabine at the time and always felt second best. That jealousy had torn you to shreds and created a wall between the two of you. You aren’t sure how to manage it and the thought stings.

The call of your name brings you out of your thoughts. Sabine remains unaware of the darkness coiling inside you and calls for you to look over something. She’s brought her research with her and has been pouring over diagrams that she thinks could help in the hunt for Ezra.

You wander over to her side and pretend to make sense of the mess of lines and circles she’s drawn on a holomap. Ahsoka eyes you wearily as Sabine talks and you suppress the urge to clench your fists.

“No, I’ve never seen this galaxy either,” you murmur. Your eyes don’t even gaze at the map Sabine is pointing at. Your mind is miles away running from you and the horrible pit in your stomach that grows with every second.

Guilt and jealousy swirl within you. You are angry. Furious even. Angry at Sabine for dragging you back in the hopes of finding a man you love that you’ve tried hard to get over. Angry at the force for tearing Ezra away from you-

And angry at yourself for yet again being weaker than Sabine.

Sabine had never given up. While you had run from Lothal and tried hard to forget your childhood sweetheart, Sabine had remained steadfast. It was she who had unlocked the map coordinates while you had stared at that damn ball for hours until your head hurt and your eyes had turned red. It was Sabine who could think of a million different ways to continue the hunt while you could barely keep yourself from screaming.

In every way that counted, in every Maker’s damned one sided competition, she had always been ahead.

“Can you read this for me-?“

Sabine reaches past you to click on a screen. Projections of documents appear before you all with the names of different galaxies and star maps. You clench your jaw as you notice all the notes she’s taken over each document. She’s been at it for years, no doubt, always searching. Never giving up. Unlike you-

The one person that should have never given up on Ezra. The one who had sworn to love him forever, the one who had dreamed of marrying him, the one who should have been fighting from the beginning to find him-

Ahsoka’s hand touches your shoulder. You turn your head and find her gaze on you.

“Perhaps Huyang should look over the information instead. He can process it faster,” Ahsoka tells Sabine.

Huyang accepts the assignment and takes the tablet from Sabine. Sabine hardly notices the way you glare in her direction.

“Are you feeling alright?” Ahsoka questions. Her tone is gentle yet firm. Concerned for your feelings yet weary of the darkness inside you.

Briefly, you remember Kanan and Ezra discussing the force. Mentioning how they could sometimes sense emotions and tell when people were struggling. You’re sure Ahsoka has noticed how you flicker between rage and heartbreak over and over again.

You aren’t sure whether you should apologize or thank her for interceding. Had she not stepped in, you think you might have snapped and started screaming at Sabine to leave you alone.

“Fine,” you whisper back.

You certainly don’t feel fine and the lie tastes bitter in your mouth, but you shrug away her arm. Murmuring something about needing a break, you move past the group and disappear into another room of the ship.

Huyang’s workshop is tidy and neatly organized. You take stock of every lightsaber piece as your fingers trace every groove and indent.

To add further insult to injury, you don’t have possession of Ezra’s lightsaber either. You had, had it once right after Lothal had been freed but had surrendered it to Sabine on Ahsoka’s suggestion. When Ahsoka had decided to train Sabine as a Jedi over you, you had silently handed over the last remnant of the boy you loved and stormed off broken and bitter.

The lightsaber pieces around you are each different. You don’t see anything that resembles Ezra’s pieces anywhere. After a while, you end up just sliding into an empty seat and your head falls into your hands.

Everything is utterly in disarray. Your mind races with a million thoughts and you’re sure your heart is a pile of jagged pieces each shattered beyond repair.

The truth of the matter is that you know your insecurities are right. Sabine is better than you. At everything.

Had she liked Ezra back years ago, he would have never looked in your direction. The bittersweet memories you had of dating him would have never happened. You would have never been chosen if his first choice hadn’t panned out. Ezra had tried once to tell you that it wasn’t true, that he had genuinely fallen for you and it had nothing to do with Sabine only seeing him as a brother, but you hadn’t believed him.

And now? Now she was definitely better than you.

You had given up. You had once promised Ezra to love him forever yet had believed him dead. You had left Lothal, the planet he had sacrificed everything to protect, and suppressed every memory of him. You had dated around in hopes of forgetting his ghost and tried hard to move on-

All while Sabine had never lost hope. She had always fought for him and looked everywhere. She had never once believed him gone. You had the obligation to search for him as his girlfriend, yet you had failed him. Had it not been for Sabine, Ezra would have been truly lost.

The thought makes you want to scream. You grit your teeth tightly until your jaw hurts. If you weren’t so indebted to Sabine for finding a lead, you think you’d want to swing at her. She’s always been better than you. Ezra should have just held out for her all along rather than taking you as a consolation prize.

Feeling suddenly like you’re suffocating, you slam your fist into the control panel to slide open the door. Sabine looks up as you enter and Ahsoka quietly moves to allow you to retake your old seat. You ignore them all as you slide into place and hover your fingers over the tablet.

You need a distraction. Anything to keep the terrible feelings at bay. You slam some keys down until the maps disappear and you’re staring at a blank slate.

Quietly, you bury yourself in your work all the while stewing and boiling with rage.

———————————————

Days later, Sabine’s determination beats you once more. Cornered by Baylan and Shin, you and Sabine are forced to make a choice on what to do. Ashoka is gone and the map is in Sabine’s possession. You two have to decide whether to turn it over to the very people Ahsoka wanted to keep it from or cling to the hope that Ezra can be found.

When Baylan promises to take you both to him, you hesitate. Ahsoka’s words play over and over again in your head. She has long been warning you about what will happen if Thrawn returns. You know she would want you to destroy the map and keep Thrawn in exile forever-

But what about Ezra? Will destroying the map strand him wherever he is forever too? Will you give up your last chance at ever finding him?

Your mind and your heart wage a war. You want desperately to see Ezra again but you remember his sacrifice. You know he’d want to protect the galaxy from the Empire. You don’t know what to do-

In the end, Sabine beats you to it. Better than you in every way, she hands over the map to Baylan. She accepts the terms for you both and tells you to drop your weapon with a calm, clear voice. You both hate her and feel grateful that she’s taken the choice out of your hands.

You let them cuff you and don’t even react when Shin uses the force to cut off your airway. Nothing she could possibly do could hurt more than the ugly feeling of being a disappointment. Once more, Sabine has proven herself a better fit for Ezra than you. Were he to ever find out that you hesitated on this choice, you think he’d leave you once and for all and realize that Sabine has always been better for him.

When you and Sabine face off Thrawn, you hardly pay attention. The villain that plagued you for years hasn’t changed much. His glowing red eyes sweep over you with mild boredom before he directs all his attention at Sabine. He seems genuinely unamused when he realizes Sabine has traded the galaxy for the hope of finding Ezra.

You feel a cold knife twist in your stomach and look away as Sabine faces Thrawn off. There is no hesitation or remorse in her gaze when she coldly tells Thrawn that he could never understand. You wince feeling guilty at the memory of your own hesitation.

It seems like Sabine is the only one completing this journey. When the two of you mount your steeds, it’s her who fights off the bandits. She moves like a lightning strike taking them down while you throw punches and kicks at random barely managing to take down one while she’s got the squad down in moments. When a Noti appears, it’s Sabine who realizes he’s wearing a Jedi symbol on his clothing.

You feel like a shadow merely following her around. Every new revelation and step closer to finding Ezra brings you both joy and envy.

Sabine feels like she’s better suited for the role of Ezra’s partner compared to you. She’s been loyal, determined, and fierce in his search. You, who had a responsibility to find him, had given up. Ezra deserved better than you.

By the time you make it back to Noti’s village, you feel the weight of your own soul crushing you. You feel painfully jealous, angry at yourself, and broken down. You try to ignore Sabine as she urges you forward telling you that something about this particular village feels different.

You’re so downtrodden that you don’t even realize someone is calling your name until you turn your head and hear Sabine’s breath hitch. Time seems to slow down as your eyes meet a striking blue that you haven’t seen in years. Your heart races and you move to run at Ezra-

When Sabine beats you to it.

She all but rushes past you to beat you to Ezra first. Ezra, half way to you, is interrupted as Sabine crashes into him. Her arms wrap around his frame and she buries her head into his neck. He looks like he wants to move to you for a brief moment before he hugs her back and greets her for the first time in ten years.

You hang back awkwardly watching the love of your life embrace someone else. Every hurtful thought you’ve ever heard about not deserving to be at Ezra’s side plays over and over again in your mind. Worse still, you are forced to see how good Sabine looks with Ezra. They click together like puzzle pieces and look perfect. Two halves of the same whole.

A coldness seeps into your very bones. You suppress the tears forming and grit your teeth painfully. If anything, Sabine deserves this moment. She’s the one who found Ezra. You don’t deserve him.

Despite the way it almost kills you to see Sabine steal your moment, you hang back. The ugly insecurities in you taunt and laugh as you watch them. You can’t escape the feeling that you’re an outsider looking in and intruding in a moment that you don’t deserve.

It feels like an eternity when the two of them finally separate. Sabine is smiling wide oblivious to your pain. Slowly, Ezra moves away from her and moves towards you instead. You force yourself to shove aside the familiar jealousy deciding that seeing Ezra again after a decade is worth more than the agony in your chest.

You meet Ezra halfway as he runs. Your own arms wrap around his frame and he all but picks you up to hold you close. He breathes out your name and you’re struck by how different he is.

Your hands shake as you press your palms to his face. He has a beard now, his cheeks are thin, no doubt from the lack of food, and there’s a certain maturity in his eyes that wasn’t there before-

But he’s Ezra.

Tears spill before you can stop them. His fingers wipe them away gently and his smile is bright. He says your name again like a sacred prayer.

“You’re alive,” you whisper. It’s the only sentence that you can form past the haze. Everything feels so surreal.

Ezra stands in front of you. The love of your life. The boy that had won you over ten years ago and never once let you go-

The one a part of you isn’t sure you deserve.

Ezra presses his forehead against yours. A familiar little habit he had back from when you were kids. A way to soothe you and reassure you that everything is going to be okay-

A sob breaks past your lips at the familiar action and you busy yourself burying your head in his chest. He holds you tighter to him. Underneath your palms, his heart races.

For a moment, every insecurity stops. The cold words you tell yourself over and over again in your head quiet for just this one moment. A sense of peace fills you and everything makes sense. For just a moment, all of the pain of the last decade goes away.

Ezra moves his head forward like he’s going to kiss you. He seems hesitant, unsure if he still has the right after a decade, and you want to meet him halfway-

But then Sabine interrupts the moment. She’s being herded by a Noti away and another one chirps out a different language to Ezra. You suddenly remember where you are you and draw back too fast. It feels maddening to separate from him after losing him for so long, but you think it’s better this way. It’s not like you deserve to kiss him after everything you’ve done.

The loss of him hurts like an open wound. You miss holding him. After ten years, you had given up hope of ever having that chance. It feels so cruel to lose it now-

And of course Sabine had to ruin this moment too. She’s always ruined everything for you. Perhaps she’s finally realized her feelings for Ezra and how better she is for him than you.

Your blood feels cold as you watch her grab his arm. She links their arms together and begins speaking. He gives you one last look over his shoulder before a Noti grabs your own arm to tug you forward. You are forced to trail after them feeling like a third wheel among their partnership. Something you’ve tended to always feel when the three of you are together.

They form a good team. It looks entirely natural for the two of them to be together. Sabine just makes sense at his side. She’s saved him after you’d given up, always been beside him throughout your time together as members of the Ghost, and was the first person he was ever interested in. It makes perfect sense for her to be the one with him.

A painful lump forms in your throat and you wave away the Noti’s concern when it curiously looks up at you. You trail silently through the village as Ezra begins to explain everything.

He tells you and Sabine pieces of his time here. He tells you how he and Thrawn made it here, how he ran from Thrawn and found the Noti by chance, and how he’s spent time with them since. They’re a peaceful people and have welcomed him into their ranks. He accompanies them on their travels, but he’s ready to come home.

He smiles at you both as he thanks you for coming back for him. He can’t wait to return to your galaxy and see Hera, Zeb, and Chopper.

Guilt grips you tightly. You don’t have the courage to admit that you had thought him lost. Had it not been for Sabine, he would have remained on this forsaken planet forever.

A coward to the end, you bite your tongue and hesitate at his words. When Ezra tries to move towards you, hand shyly reaching for your own, you move away as if his touch burns. You don’t think you deserve his gratefulness. Not with how awful you’ve been all these years.

It’s almost a relief when Sabine takes over. As much as it pains you to see her slowly replace you, you know you deserve it.

Before Ezra can ask you what’s wrong, you turn away and pretend to be busy with a Noti who is patching up something to the far side of the village. You turn your back on Sabine and Ezra and remain rigid as they walk away. Ezra keeps glancing back at you from time to time while Sabine urges him along to discuss things with him.

By the time they’re finally gone, you wander off further from the village and then promptly bury your head in your hands. The last of your strength leaves you and you sink to the ground below. The pain you’ve been suppressing returns in waves and you give in to the horrible voices that tell you what a terrible person you are and how you don’t deserve Ezra.

———————————————

By the time the sun sets, you’re a ticking time bomb. You’ve spent a long time wallowing in self pity. Everything aches as you make the trek back to the village.

The Noti are tiny, so it’s not hard to spot Sabine and Ezra. Ezra is holding something by the fire while Sabine messes with her vambrace. She seemingly hasn’t told Ezra about how the two of you are stuck here and how Ahsoka is dead.

When you get back, both of their attention is turned towards you. Ezra lights up and waves you over. He means to let you sit with them, but you quickly note that there’s no room. The Noti are half your size and don’t use large spaces. The log Ezra and Sabine sit at is out of room. You have no place beside Ezra with Sabine there.

Suppressing a grimace, you elect to remain standing.

“What are you two up to?” You ask. Your voice sounds colder than you intended, bitter.

Ezra looks at you and you evade his gaze. There’s something deep in his eyes that you don’t want to dwell too long on. He looks like he doesn’t quite know what to make of you. You have a feeling you aren’t who he remembers.

Good.

Maybe if he no longer recognizes you, he can give you a clean break. It’s become very apparent that you no longer belong at his side. Perhaps if he realizes he made a mistake in choosing you once upon a time, he can find someone better. The sooner he moves on the sooner you can kill what’s left of your broken heart.

Sabine is the one who answers. You’re quite frankly sick of her by then.

“I was telling Ezra everything’s that’s happened since he’s been gone. The Empire, Lothal, everything,” she responds.

Ezra awkwardly nods at her words. You feel a pit form in your stomach. Idly you wonder if Sabine has told Ezra how terrible you’ve been. Wonder if he knows you had given up on the hope of ever seeing him and tried to move on. Is that why he can’t seem to look at you anymore?

Anger and pain throb in your chest. You squeeze your jaw together.

The rest of the night passes far too quickly. Ezra and Sabine chat until the embers of the fire die down. You respond only when necessary and keep your remarks short.

Every once in a while, you think you see Ezra stealing glances at you but you ignore him. It feels like you’re having a terrible out of body experience. You’re so close to him, finally after mourning him for a decade, yet you know you have no right to rejoice at finding him. The guilt and jealousy you feel outweigh everything else.

It’s a mercy when the Noti begin to prepare to sleep. They offer the perfect excuse for the night to finally come to a close.

Ezra stands up and runs a hand through his hair.

“I sleep in the big room over there. It’s as human sized as you can get here. You both look exhausted. The journey here couldn’t have been easy. Why don’t you both take it? It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve slept outside with the Noti,” Ezra offers.

“We can’t take your place-“

“I insist,” Ezra interrupts Sabine, “I’m used to camping out. The Noti constantly move from place to place seeking shelter so sometimes we have to rough it on the ground. It’s nothing unusual. You both can take it.”

Sabine glances at you with a nod of her head.

“Is that alright with you? You wanna share that tent with

me?” She asks.

Both Ezra and Sabine seem to be very interested in your answer. Ezra searches your face for something. You think there’s a question he’s longing to ask, something he’s dying to know, but he can’t bring himself to say it. It seems like he’s too afraid of whatever he thinks he’ll find or won’t find.

Truthfully, you don’t have the patience to speculate on what the two of them are trying to find out. It’s been a long day and you’ve suffered enough already.

You shrug, “Fine.”

A one word response. Sabine blinks and Ezra winces. There’s almost a flash of pain in his gaze before he looks away. You highly suspect that whatever test has just transpired, you’ve failed.

Sabine shares a glance with Ezra. You try to ignore the way the knife in your heart twists to see them communicate silently. Years apart and yet they seem to still know each other well enough to talk through simple glances and looks.

It’s all too much. You spin on your heel and march off mumbling some excuse about being exhausted.

Inside the metal tent, you close your eyes and count to ten. There’s a roar in your ears and a headache forming at the very back of your skull. You aren’t sure how much more this you can take. Already, it feels like you’re hitting a boiling point.

Everything feels terrible. The jealousy, the heartbreak, the anger, the guilt. All of it is becoming too much.

By the time Sabine returns, you’re at your limit. You don’t even flinch when she waves a hand in front of your face to test if you’re paying attention.

“What’s wrong?” She sounds concerned as she peers down at you, “You’ve been out of it all day. I thought you’d be really happy. I mean, we found Ezra-“

A scoff breaks out before you can stop it. You hate that she’s using the word “we.”There is no “we” here. It’s all her. It’s always been her. She’s the hero who saved Ezra. You’re the terrible ex girlfriend that abandoned him.

“I’m just tired,” you shrug. It’s a weak lie. She doesn’t seem to buy it as she presses you more.

“You’re not acting okay. I didn’t think you’d want to share a room with me. I thought you’d make an excuse to get out of it.”

Your eyes roll. She stops and stares at you as if finally realizing just how angry you are.

By now, the pain is cooling to anger. There’s a rage vibrating deep within you towards her. You’d love nothing more than to shut her up once and for all.

She calls your name with a frown. Concern and frustration are evident in her face.

“Seriously, is everything okay? Ezra wanted you to stay with him outside. He was waiting for you to ask to stay with him-“

“Well, didn’t you want to stay with him? You should have volunteered,” you tug angrily at your jacket. The fury is burning you from the inside. You feel like a star about to combust. It takes all of your strength to remain composed.

Sabine has the gall to look confused. She makes a face like she doesn’t get it. You aren’t sure whether she’s being coy or if she’s just dying to hear you spell it out to her.

“What are you talking about?” She moves to grab your arm. Perhaps she wants you to face her and explain why you’re suddenly so angry, “You hurt him, you know. He doesn’t know where he stands with you. You haven’t spoken to him or made a move. He’s scared you’ve moved on-“

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll comfort him. You’ve been much better for him than me,” you bite.

Again, there’s a moment of confusion. By now, Sabine herself is growing frustrated with your attitude. It seems she can’t wrap her head around why you’re so upset.

“What is wrong with you? Seriously. You finally get Ezra back and you just ice him out-“

Something snaps. The anger you’ve been suppressing spills forward like a dam. Before you can even think about what you’re doing, you’re shoving her as hard as you can away from you. There’s a sense of satisfaction in the way you take her by surprise. She’s much stronger than you, yet you manage to make her slam into the metal walls. Her armor makes a satisfying thud when it collides against them.

“Oh, shut up, Sabine!”

You move to shove her again, rage boiling over.

It’s all too much. Every negative emotion you’ve been feeling since Sabine unlocked the map where you failed has spilled over. You feel like a bomb exploding. You aren’t a violent person, yet you find yourself pushing her again.

This time, she’s ready for you. Her eyes are wide and there’s shock in her voice when she calls your name. She grabs your wrist and twists you around until she’s holding your arms in place. A move you had only ever seen her do on stormtroopers.

“Maker, what’s wrong-?”

Her voice trails off in shock as you shove off her hold. You press your hands to your face feeling adrenaline course through your veins. It burns white hot against your skin. You swear you feel your blood boiling.

“Do you know how sick I am of you?” You jab a finger at the center of her chest plate, “You just have to rub everything in. I get it, alright? I get that you’re better than me. You have always been better at everything. I never stood a chance.”

You back away from her suddenly feeling like you’re boxed in. The anger is coursing red hot but there’s something else there. It’s all consuming and harsh. You feel it practically strangling you.

While you are threatened by Sabine’s presence, some part of you knows it’s not just her that’s causing this outburst. Really, it’s more than that. A part of you is just angry with yourself.

It’s yourself you despise. Had it not been for Sabine, Ezra would have been stuck here forever. You had given up on ever finding him. For all your promises of loving him years ago, you had simply given up. He would have never have given up on you.

Spinning around, you press your fists against your eyelids to try and stop the tears forming behind your eyes.

“You found him. I gave up on him,” you whisper. It’s a harsh admission out loud, “You’re better than me. He deserves better. He deserves you.”

Sabine is stunned. She blinks and makes a face like she can’t believe what you just said. You don’t have it in you to explain. The anger is slowly becoming despair. You want nothing more than to just curl up into a ball and die.

“What? I-Do you-Is that what this is about? You think I have feelings for Ezra?” She takes you by the shoulders and holds you steady.

You’re shaking, you realize. Your hands are quivering and your breath is coming out in short pants. A panic attack.

“Don’t you?” You bite the inside of your cheek to quell the rising panic. Your chest feels too tight. It constricts against your clothing, “It’s okay if you do. He’s always liked you. You could make him happier. You didn’t give up on him like I did.”

It hurts to say everything out loud. You don’t think you could survive seeing Sabine with Ezra. It would break whatever remnants of your heart are still working, but you wouldn’t stand in their way. Ezra deserves to be happy and you’re not the person that can give that to him. If Sabine can, then she should. It would break you, but you deserve it. An atonement for your sins.

Sabine calls out your name. She pulls your arms away from your face and shakes her head firmly. She looks stunned and hurt. She’s hurt by your words.

“I don’t like Ezra romantically. He’s a brother to me. That’s it. He loves you-“

You close your eyes against the rising panic. It takes all your willpower to remember how to breathe. It feels like something has gotten a hold of your body. You feel everything mounting until it bursts. Emotions and words pour out of you. You aren’t sure just what you’re saying. Everything feels like it’s happening far away.

“He had a crush on you first. He didn’t even look at me until he realized you weren’t interested. I always knew I was his second choice. I was always so angry with you. You two spent so much time together. I was always just counting the days until he left me for you. You two just fit together. Ten years later and you two can just go back to being close. I don’t know how I could ever face him knowing that I gave up-“

The feeling of choking returns. You press your hand to your chest feeling like your lungs will give out. There’s a painful squeeze to your heart. Is this what a heart attack feels like-?

Suddenly someone is taking you gently by the shoulders. Familiar hands press against your face cradling you softly. You hear your name whispered in a low voice. You know who it is without even opening your eyes.

Ezra.

“Hey, breathe. Breathe with me,” he whispers. He shows you some deep breaths. His arms hold you in place firmly but not tightly. It’s his way of showing you that he’s here. That you’re not alone.

Slowly you try and copy his breaths. It’s a struggle to do it. It feels like every painful gasp of air you inhale rattles against your lungs. It takes much longer than it should to finally regulate your breathing.

By the time the panic attack is finally underway, you feel exhausted. There’s a heaviness to your body you haven’t felt in a while. You’re shaking as Ezra slowly moves you towards a makeshift bed. He eases you gently into a sitting position. Idly, you realize that Sabine is inching out of the encampment probably wanting to give you and Ezra space to talk.

“Are you okay? Do you need water? A blanket?” Ezra kneels to be eye level with you. His eyes are concerned, scared for you.

It’s not fair. He’s the one who’s been lost for ten years, yet here he is worried about you. You don’t deserve him.

That’s what finally does you in. You begin to sob and press your hands firmly to your face. The tears pour out of you. It’s been a long ten years. Everything just shatters.

In the last decade, you’ve cried more times than you want to admit. Grief has been a friend for ages. You’ve cried until you had nothing more to give, yet this breakdown feels different. There’s a war or emotions pouring out of you. Anger, grief, jealousy, insecurity, pain. They rush over you in waves to the point where you feel like you’re being physically crushed under the weight of them.

Ezra wraps his arms around you and lets you cry against his shoulder. He holds you firmly in place whispering words of encouragement. You don’t deserve it. You weakly fight against his hold.

Words spill forth in a whisper before you even realize half of what you’re saying. There’s just a frantic need to pour everything out. The admissions slip from your tongue without truly registering in your brain. You just need him to understand why he should hate you.

“I gave up on ever finding you. I spent an entire year unable to get out of bed. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, and couldn’t think. Every little thing reminded me of you. I thought I was going to go insane. Everyone was worried about me. Hera had just had Jacen, yet she was taking care of me instead of her newborn. It felt horrible to worry everyone. At some point, I just had to let you go. I told myself you were dead and mourned you. I needed the closure so I gave up. If you were gone forever, then I could slowly move forward. I didn’t want to but it was breaking me. Thinking that you were out here somewhere was driving me insane.”

Ezra holds you tighter at your admission. You’re not sure but you swear you think you can hear him say he’s sorry. It’s heartbreaking for him to apologize. He’s the one that you’ve wronged.

“I couldn’t move on from you. I tried dating again a few years after you were gone but never made it past the first or second date. Everyone was all wrong. They just weren’t you. I kept telling myself that you were gone and that I should move on, but I couldn’t. I was driving myself crazy with grief. I even had a falling out with Sabine. Sabine kept searching for you. She never stopped. She’s the one who found you. Had it not been for her, you would have been lost forever. She’s better than me. You deserve better,” you force yourself to look at his eyes and are shocked when you see that he’s crying too. You never meant to hurt him but the confessions keep pouring out, “I know you liked her first. You only started dating me because she didn’t like you back. I told myself all these years that, that was okay. I loved you enough to be your second choice. Then these last ten years happened and they made me realize that I don’t deserve you. I gave up on you. She didn’t. She-you both make perfect sense. You just click with each other. She’s a better choice for you. I love you, but I know you’d be happier with her. She was your first choice after all.”

Now that everything is out, you feel tired. You bury your face in his shoulder and feel the way his heart is racing. His body feels tense as he lets all your words sink in.

“What? Do you think I like Sabine?” He sounds stunned. Gently, he pulls you away so that he can look at your eyes.

His eyes are red and there’s tears running down his face. He looks heartbroken. He calls your name softly and his voice cracks.

“You’re not my second choice, Maker. I’ve loved you for over a decade. It’s always been you. I admired Sabine when we were kids, but I always saw her as a sister. That’s all she is. You’re the one I’ve loved all these years. I dreamt of you every night, I tried using the force to find you whenever I meditated, the thought of you has kept me going all these years. It’s you that kept me alive. Any time I wanted to give up, I remembered you and everyone else back home and that kept me going. You were never my second choice. You’ve always been my only love. Always,” his fingers wipe away your tears and his breath stutters, “I thought you’d moved on. You didn’t want to spend time around me. You pulled away when I tried to kiss you. I thought you didn’t care me for me anymore. I was going to accept that. It’s been ten years. You didn’t know I was still alive. If you had moved on and married someone else, I would have never held it against you. Don’t blame yourself for needing to move forward.”

“You wouldn’t have given up on me. Ezra, you would have been lost without Sabine. I thought you were gone.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. Ezra would have never given up hope. He would have kept searching until the very end. You didn’t.

His hold on you tightens.

“Ten years. I was gone for ten years. I don’t blame you for thinking I was dead. Maker, the ship had lost its airlock. I thought I was going to die when we hit hyperspace. You had no way of knowing I was alive. Sabine said you all only thought I was still alive when Ahsoka heard rumors about Thrawn returning. There’s no way anyone could have predicted I was in another galaxy,” he says.

You keep your eyes closed.

The rumors about Thrawn’s return are what had made this entire search possible. You had dropped everything when Hera and Ahsoka had commed you and rushed back to help the search. Sabine was steps ahead of you which hurts to admit, but you had rushed back to help.

Wearily, you think of everything you’ve done so far.

You think of how Ahsoka refused to train you in favor of Sabine because she said you were ‘too attached’ to be open to the force. You think of how you couldn’t open the map and had spent hours turning it every which way until your fingers had cramped and bled trying to pry it open. You remember that terrible moment where Shin and Baylan had you cornered, how they had offered you and Sabine passage to Ezra in exchange for the map. Logic would have had you destroy the map and prevent Thrawn from ever returning. Ahsoka would have wanted it that way, yet you had hesitated too. Your brain had said you needed to destroy it, but your heart had frozen. Destroying it meant never finding Ezra. You had let Sabine take over on that choice and hadn’t protested when she handed the map over. You’re sure now you would have made the same choice albeit not as fast as her.

As if sensing where your thoughts are going, Ezra places his forehead to yours. His way for reassuring you.

“I don’t blame you for anything. I’m sorry I hurt you all these years. If you’ve moved on, I get it. Just please don’t feel guilty you had to think I was dead to survive. Forgive yourself,” he urges.

You snap your eyes open startled.

“Ezra, I’ve never moved on. I love you. I have for all these years. I was just too guilty to express it. Sabine found you. I gave up. You deserve better. The two of you could-“

Suddenly Ezra dives forward. His lips press to yours and he holds you in place tightly. You make a sound of surprise before giving in.

It feels like something between you clicks. The world stops and everything feels so natural as you kiss him back. It’s been ten years since you’ve last been able to hold him. You don’t think you can survive another ten without him. You barely made it through these last few years.

He feels like home. After all the suffering and the self loathing, kissing him feels like everything is falling into place.

After a long kiss that takes your breath away, he withdraws. His breath is a harsh pant. His beard tickles your face as he presses smaller kisses to your forehead and cheeks. You cling to him tighter and take in the feeling of being in his arms again.

“I love you,” he breathes out, “It’s only ever been you. Please don’t say you don’t deserve me. You kept me alive all these years. It’s always been you.”

The last of your energy snaps. You feel so painfully exhausted. You cling to him tightly and let him move you back to the bed. He climbs in next to you and holds you to him as if he’s afraid to let you go.

Everything you’ve been through today makes you feel so tired. You want nothing more than to go to sleep and come back to this tomorrow. You don’t have the energy to keep going today.

Thankfully, Ezra doesn’t withdraw. Instead, he climbs into the bed next to you and holds you close. All of those terrible voices in your head quiet when he presses another kiss to your forehead.

You close your eyes feeling everything fading. The two of you aren’t done discussing this. He still needs to know that you love him too and that you are sorry for everything that’s happened. You also will have to apologize to Sabine tomorrow. It’s not her fault your own insecurities turned against her.

Still, for now, this moment feels like peace.

You curl into his arms and hold him tight the way you used to when you were young. He holds you to him and refuses to let you go. In a low whisper, you tell him you love him. As you drift off, you hear him say it back.

And for the first time in ten years, you finally feel a semblance of peace.

𝟏𝟐 | 𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫

ー✧ prince!bakugou x royal guard!reader

"You will spend summers in rainstorms and autumns in his orchids because you are Alderan and he will kill Takoban gods to get you there."

cw brief description of drowning and a claustrophobic struggle with the ocean. suggestions of suicidal intention and self harm. reader tries to fight the sea and your prince has horrible misunderstandings about it. bkg 🫱🏽‍🫲🏼 unethical rescue tactics pt 2, borrowed clothes, a fevered fireside confession in the bedroom you’ve been searching for 6.4k

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If Takoba is the edge of the world, Aldera is the center. You so starved for comfort, stand with your feet at the tip of the surf and tie your braids together.

You watch the sea at midnight and the winds coming off the water bite your scars before they chill your bones. Autumn at the edge of the world is miserable. Lakes freeze but the ocean is colder, and full of tides , like Todoroki said, which you’ve spent the day reading about. Unlike lakes and winter ice skating, the ocean has a taste. Salt and decay. It tastes unfathomably ancient. You watch its many maws foaming under the moonlight and seashells burn in frigid water when you step onto them.

In the view from Bakugou’s bedroom, you’ve lined your boots up neatly in the sand and stand watch beside them for a moment. You’re dressed to stop a midnight siege, in your white nightgown and padded habergeon, staring so small and far away from the warmth of his fireplace. You in a dark blue world, framed by his open window. Bakugou would have sipped his tea and rolled his eyes at his newly fucked up sleep schedule and how ridiculous you insist on looking in public if his cup wasn’t spilt on the rugs where he dropped it. If he hadn’t already ripped his door off its hinges in his sprint out of the castle.

You couldn’t sleep. You have no appetite and no mobility yet for sparring. Just books. Just Uraraka answering your questions about the sea while watching her men train. The ride with Todoroki yesterday was nice but it left your throat stiff and you are still in your kingdom’s service. Today in Takoba, tomorrow and forever behind your prince. Long before the blue gardens and scars, before the kitchen, before sticky crowds and white horses and cold hallways, something somewhere started to die.

You take another step into the swollen water, it rises with the moon, to confirm your suspicions and grimace when a crab scuttles over your foot. Another step and you’re up to your hem. It would all be easier if your heart was still a forest fire. When did that stop? When did the rain come? Up to your knees now. Seawater climbs your nightgown.

As it stands you’re no longer a dragon, just damp tinder. The black sea sways you side to side at the hips now so gently– keep walking, don’t look back. You will free yourself from doubt and you will fight a god to do it.

“Moon makes tides,” Uraraka yawned and slouched and stretched as you sat on your knees beside her in the pit.

“Can you swim in it?”

“In the ocean?” she squinted, “Yeah of course. But don’t tell me you want to swim in this weather?”

“I won’t.”

Shinsou could only pretend not to hear for so long from his spot beside you both this afternoon, “The moon makes tides, and tides make storms.”

Good. Up to your ribs now. Wear the rock there like an anchor.

In the cold water your body heat becomes that much more apparent and it’s lovely like home. Genuinely hot for a second. Your nightgown floats up around you and you sink quickly from chest to nose when the sand under your feet drops to freezing nothing. The sudden dip sends icy pain behind both eyes and the sensation of failing steeles every joint sickly sore. Walking through the ocean is like a fight, like driving a sword through someone solid, like braving a thunderstorm, but sinking into it is easier than sleeping.

You gasp and spit out the aftermath of losing your footing but you also fight too hard in anticipation of sinking and you’re suddenly in the open air up to your waist like a salmon leaping upstream. The weight of the nightgown settles you back down to your shoulders and it’s silent except for the sound of waves kissing the beach and one another. Whistling wind. You bob only some ten meters out from shore, just short of where Todoroki held you back for fear of drowning and something wild like greed blinks open a sleepy brown eye.

You hardly have to move a limb to keep your head above water; the sea is free and gentle. You float easily here, where a lake wants to watch you fight. It’s part of the fun at home and in exchange you are safe in freshwater. Salt stings– saliva pools under your tongue to keep it from getting inside– but it also holds you up in the foam like two hands under the hip.

Is this what you were so afraid of? This is the god you planned on killing tonight?

Every day in this miserable place you have been beaten. You have fallen apart in some way, your hair is too messy, your new clothes don’t fit right. You lose Aldera with every step, heel toe– earrings that are no longer yours, heel toe– a weapon you can't return, heel toe and stand at attention– a brooch you’re too afraid to wear, to lose too, so you keep it under your pillow and wear silver seashells instead. Blue fire took the first victory in the forest and you salvaged your prince with your life thin in your teeth. Takoba took the second victory and strung you out in your nightgown for nobles to pick at like crows. A driftwood table took the third and Bakugou stole the fourth. The only time you have ever won here is when you decided to die. When you churn the water with your arms a pain echoes across your back not quite inside your scars.

Kirishima on the verge of tears, Shinsou above your operating table, Uraraka at your side, Todoroki holding you back from the edge of the world– your prince, wet to his knees– you have never, not once in your life have you ever failed. Their gazes make your throat hurt and you spit again into a tiny rolling wave that lifts itself over your chin and into your ears.

The goddess of the sea does not pity you.

She pulls you into her arms and laughs when you rub your freshwater eyes. She tossels your hair with silent waves you could never have seen coming. She reminds you of her strength. And Todoroki told you that you couldn’t possibly challenge her– eat your words sealace prince. Even just this once, witness me. You are a gem in the crown of Aldera, the left hand of the golden family. Takoba is no setback the sea is not your master, you are a chosen servant, not a mistake. It is so wonderful to be in the presence of a queen again and at night her water is soft and black.

The shore is farther than you remember when you finally glance back at the world. You bob like a peach, a frozen peach, and realize you can’t feel the cold anymore. Time to head back. Today was just a test anyway, to make sure you could put up your fight. Maybe sleep will come now that you’re starting to breathe heavy and now that your muscles ache again after days without real training. Ice creeps up the back of your neck from wet hair.

The goddess of the sea plays with you for a few more seconds and you can’t wait to come back in the warmth of the sun to lay on your back with her to whom you no longer need to prove yourself. The ocean pulls in its depths just as much as it pushes at the shore so you brace your eyes for discomfort and duck under the surface to kick a good length forward. It would have worked in a lake, at the center of the world.

When you resurface you are somehow farther than before and considerably shorter of breath. The cold starts to press on your lungs now that you’re truly using them. It’s okay, one more time. You kick once to let the goddess lift you up with her salt and breathe in the free air before diving under again but all you actually do is stir bubbles around you exactly where you started. If anything even farther. Your boots are too small to see now.

There are no storms, no raging waves, no rain, no thunder, hardly wind, what is putting up the fight? Whatever. You paddle above water, thankful for light clothes, and weary of the growing ache under your jaw– the start of a pulsing headache. More than anything you are finally excited for bed, but no matter how hard you push there seems to be a growing distance between you and safety.

Dread drops in your peachpit stomach and you start to feel long pretty fingers tickle your heels in black water. The ghost of the flame mage happy to drag you with him to the bottom of the sea. Irrational like a fear of the dark, but still there’s no more time for testing pride, you have to get back to shore. The little girl inside of you cowers when you take one more heavy breath and then release it to sink yourself as deep as the salt will let you. You can see the breaking point, all you need is to reach the seafloor and kick yourself to it.

As you drift down into the pitch black something so much better than sand or ghosts meets your feet. You connect with rock as your lungs begin to ache for air and kick with every well trained muscle your legs have, forward towards the shore. Faster than freshwater, you rocket to the surface and gasp excitedly, blink rapidly, and infinitely closer to white sand, and then immediately the goddess pulls you under again.

Sure you found the breaking point, sure your toes tease the start of the shore you want to reach so badly, but that’s what waves do here. Break.

Something so silent couldn’t possibly be this powerful, but your head is forced back under as your hips are pulled back out and you tumble head over knees, mouth filled suddenly with salt and sand in the darkness. Resurfacing is no fun task, choking. You’re thankful it’s easy to float in the ocean but saltwater dries out your mouth as you retch it back out from your throat into the foam and then there’s another break over your head to remind you that humans should stay far away from god.

You’ll die just thirty meters from the shore. Salt blinds you. Water deep in one ear keeps you just dizzy enough to let this sea carry you out once again, and shouting isn’t an option. Shouting or gasping, you have to pick one. Ache has turned to paralysis; muscles so beaten and a heart beating so fast you’re already at the last limit reached by your master, training to failure. Striking and swinging until you can no longer hold your weapon. Hours of training reduced to fifteen minutes at sea.

The bruises of your shoulder protest every paddle you force out of them and go much stiffer much faster than the rest of you. In a way, the mage is drowning you. In every way the sea is much more claustrophobic than a war room.

The moon watches you heaving for air stuck between beating waves and being swept back out to sea. She doesn’t do anything. You are pulled under again. The rocks beneath you scratch your soft skin this time and your instinct is to flinch which fills your nose with water and drowning is certainly not as peaceful as poetry makes it out to be.

Of course it ends like this. A soggy creature fighting gods alone.

Of course he’s watching you, his Captain, being stolen by the sea.

You surface forcefully with a grip on your scruff and while your body remembers how to breathe, magic every furious color of the rainbow arcs above your head. The water recoils for a moment around you in the force of his impact. Bakugou erupts from the sky as he always does into the tragedy of your life in Takoba and you have no control over your searing gaze when it turns to him above you, framed by sparks and stars. Halo from the moon.

You both fall back into the water but not so helplessly as a moment ago. Your prince hooks and arm across your chest, pressing your back to his front and with so much more strength than you could ever muster, rips his way through the water in half of a backstroke. Half of him focused on keeping you afloat and only half of him conquering the sea. His legs create their own current. He holds you and you’re sure you’re breathing loudly enough into his collar to hurt his ears.

You are an excellent swimmer. Weak children, drunk diplomats, tests from your master; you have dragged your fair share of victims out of rivers and as the victim yourself you know better than to struggle or panic in your prince’s grip as he drags you from the goddess, but you can’t help how your fingers scratch at his translucent tunic. Cling to the warmth of his bicep.

In twenty seconds he has reached the break. Strength like a war criminal, like a godslayer. He turns in the water, times it to match the swell of a wave for height, and pulls you chest to chest with a guiding hand on the side of your head to fold you into him. The sea drops you and you know what comes next. Bakugou anticipates your struggle, or a drowned man’s panic, any logical thing and wraps another arm around you tight as he pulls you both under, but you don’t fight a single second and neither do you breathe.

He knows the sea so much better. If you weren’t unraveling like a common soldier you would have realized too, just how much calmer the water is underneath its surface. Even with ears full of sand you can hear the wave crash above you but there is no pull underwater. The roll of the goddess back out to sea twirls through your hair but nothing else. She lets your prince push up to the surface and doesn’t stop you from catching your breath inside the crook of his neck. Eleven seconds to beat the break. What does he even need a captain for?

This time when the tide drops, you don’t quite drop with it. Knees in the sand. Back on solid ground you realize how hard a body can shake and then water is beating you down again from behind, and a warm hand has you by the back of the haubergeon to keep you from slipping out to sea or laying flat down to sleep in the surf.

Both hardly walking, and you more-than-half carried, you and your prince stagger over seashells like glass back to the spot where your boots rest like nothing bad has ever happened at all, chased the whole time by a disappointed tide. You collapse the second he lets you. You, useless with cold and vomiting seafoam.

“Why?!” Your prince chokes, similarly out of breath beside you, hunched over his knees from the effort of winning your war. You can feel the glare. You are warmed by it and then entirely numb again, in a terrible turn of events, to even his attention. The very last ember dies without smoke.

Bakugou, even in a temper tantrum, has never looked quite so disheveled. He’s been wet before, and pushed his hair back with big hands and caught his breath through his teeth just like this, but he’s never looked at you with such confusion. His eyebrows don’t sit right. Without a scowl his whole thing really falls apart, huh?

“Answer me, Eyes!”

You wheeze instead of speaking when you try to use your voice for the first time and spit out the last of the salt that comes up with it. He doesn’t move, catching his breath across the sand at midnight. Your prince really is so pretty and something inside is eating you alive to the beat of the wash of waves. He is a star and you are the bloody little creature beneath him always, not chosen at all.

You sit yourself up. Bakugou is beautiful. Broad chest and shoulders trained for his magic and a wet tunic that clings to every lovely shape, just a few feet too far away to touch. Unmarred face and shaggy hair. His eyes. His jaw slopes sharp, sharper still in the moonlight and dripping with water, up towards his hungry red eyes that eat everything they’ve e–

“Wake up!” He barks.

He’s not eating you. He brings back your focus and when you hold his stare this time it’s so obvious he’s not confused, or angry, not exhausted or embarrassed or exasperated. He’s six and he’s holding your hands in a velvet carriage, terrified.

Oh boy. You guess self-control died with your heart, because your shoulders start to shake in a chuckle. Bakugou stares. Any fold of his brows melts immediately at the sound of your soft laughter but he hardens again when he speaks.

“What about this is funny?!” and pulls himself up to his knees as you lower yourself to clamshells, not-quite-laughing but not fighting the smile either. This is exhausting. “You just tried to kill yourself!”

This makes you snort, which is ugly, and shuts your prince up entirely. One laugh like a lie and then another and you curl in on yourself, shivering arms folded above your head and forehead pressed flat to the sand. Something like an apology. You are redundant, not suicidal.

If it were a real apology you would wait until he spoke again to raise your head like Todoroki in the stables, but that’s not what you’re doing at all. You ache from the inside. Burn in fact. You chuckle again and spit salt one last time when you sit up, then grab for your shoes with muscle memory instead of feeling since the cold has stolen that from you too. Bakugou is staring again– it is irritating, you should do it less.

The ocean makes a lovely noise when you are not drowning in it. It’s much quieter and sounds a bit like laundry sliding over itself. Or apples tumbling into a basket. You are the first to your feet, clumsily, and you are not so delirious that you forget you need proximity to a fire. Anyone else might not be able to stand through this adrenaline trembling but how many apprentices have come so close to death so many times as you?

“Oi,” Bakugou growls, confused again by the wrong emotion for just long enough to let you escape.

The hill between the castle and the sea is overgrown with dune grasses tall enough to tickle your hips and that is what you decide to climb. Empty stomach, ruined shoulder, shaking legs, deep dead eyes.

Your clothes cling to you. They make you small. He can hardly breathe in the cold as he rushes to catch up, dripping what he's sure are icicles, and you look as if you could hardly stay conscious in it. Does your face feel as red as it looks? Friction or fever? “Captain!” And it’s obvious Bakugou can’t decide on his volume, but bulldozes after you nonetheless husky with exertion, “fuckin wait–”

There are sandy paths beaten into this seaside hill, small like children made them on their happy little way to swim. Bakugou makes quick work of it. You hike. You put all your effort into staying on two feet through a chill you could hardly ever imagine. Heat pounds in your temples, cruelly imitating Alderan fire when really it’s something poisoned like liquor.

“Please don’t follow me sir,” you call over the wind when the prince gets a few steps too close to catching up and he makes a sound almost like words, like words you shot dead in his throat. You know that sound because you have been shot at the same exact angle. Deadly isn’t it? He falls back.

Just for a moment Bakugou stops and watches, filled with something neither of you have the words for yet. Recovering just as quickly as you are succumbing to exhaustion.

Wait, he stares. Just– “Y/n.”

Wrapped in white, you are framed by rolling seagrass in the moonlight. You finally stop climbing and turn. You like a half-drowned painting. In a furred cape you might be a queen. From your spot smiling sadly at the edge of the world, your nose has started to bleed.

“Give me an order.”

Six and shaking in his hands. Eleven soaked in a fruit filled hallway, always working and fond of libraries. Sense of humor that doubles over his queen. Often covered in blood, staring too earnestly right now for him to remember that anger might fix this. Bakugou doesn’t breathe.

You turn back towards the castle alone and for the very last time, your body keeps the tears at bay. On a hill of swaying green grass and bright in the moonlight, your prince, frozen, looks so much like his mother you should kill him for it.

You always thought you were hiding from him on duty, only slightly more stealthy than a dragon. It got better when Jeanist stopped training you in chainmail, but your excitement at every small job bounced off the walls of his castle so obviously. Squirrel duty? You helped a hundred bastards back outside without pause. Sent up to swept bookshelves under the Great Oak and you're the only person he’s ever seen hum to themself so high in the air. Stable duty? Stable master more like. Seven and stacking stools to reach the saddles before Jeanist set you back on the ground by your scruff like his kitten. Bakugou can’t remember what went first, your heartbeat or his hearing.

The very first time you snuck up on him was in August under a plum tree, nine years old. He slept beside his book in the shade on a perfect day, perfectly alone and free of tutoring for the afternoon. Maybe because you were barefoot, but somehow even out of breath, the only thing that gave you away was your voice.

“Careful Highness.” He shot awake with that and figured for a moment that you were a dream while his eyes adjusted to the light through the leaves behind you– panting above him and holding tight to a plum. Like premonition your other hand lurched to catch another as it fell toward him, “they’re ready for harvest.”

Bakugou sat up. Off at an impossible distance for you to have run to catch plums, Jeanist stood beside a hanging line of red uniforms waving a beckoning hand.

“Laundry calls,” you whispered. As the little prince turned stupidly back to you above him, you set both plums on the grass beside his book and bowed.

Wait.

“Maybe a nap in the vineyard? Grapes won't bruise.”

Wait, I know you.

He watched you bow one last time and jog out of the shade back to Jeanist and Alderan laundry, just as he watches you stumble now in the dark, towards the faraway lights of a castle without the fire you need.

Wait!

“Y/n!” Bakugou bursts over the ridge and back onto marble pavement, what the fuck is he gonna do– your name won’t work twice, he’s wasted too much time. “Captain!”

You pay him no mind drifting away with your back still turned and with even less coordination than when you dragged yourself from the sea. You are deteriorating– fuck, fuck it. Bakugou, brimming with something to the left of anger, charges. If you hear him coming you do nothing to stop him. Not as he closes your distance with eight good strides and slings you over his shoulder.

"I–!" you jerk to strike instinctively, “Put me down!”

Good, you can shout. He still has time, you’re still alive. He’ll apologize for touching you later, for hesitating and staring, he will say everything he set aside in anger when you are not trying to kill yourself.

“Put me down,” you hiss like you know you’re one of three people that can make his skin prickle with threat.

“Not a chance.”

You grip the back of his tunic, clinging so wet to his body that you grab equal parts flesh and he turns away from your path to the glowing front gates all those hundreds of meters away, to kick in a door on an insignificant corner of an insignificant annex in the shadows of the castle that is only unlocked because it’s the same one he flew from, instead of his window, when he was trying not to startle you with his magic and into the sea.

You will spend summers in rainstorms and autumns in his orchids because you are Alderan and he will kill Takoban gods to get you there. Your nails on his back begin to burn with your silence and it’s haunting not only because you weigh less to him than a phantom, but because the smell of the sea follows you inside when there is no one else left to close the door. Immediately it is warmer without the wind but he will not slow until he finds fire, because you are gripping him instead of screaming again– because you are freezing to death and he will not let you win under new circumstances after he worked so hard to save you from the first.

This part of the castle is his, below the kitchens, the deep white underbelly in the cliff over the sea where no one will find him except cooks and staff who keep his secret and the queen who kindly ordered these quarters before she lost her mind. There is no difference of weight or warmth when he sets you down without a fight in front of the only red door in the hall. You aren’t a ghost. Even if you aren’t convincing. He throws the door open.

You would win in a contest but Bakugou too can make a steady fire. It’s still chirping bright in his fireplace when he crowds you inside of his quarters. Wood and furs. The smell of bread, everything so unlike Takoba. Small. Hard surfaces cushioned or covered in anticipation of winter, with red and gold and wool, forest tapestries from home– and it is a small victory that you take another step, then another, deeper inside without hint or suggestion.

“where are we?”

“You need to change,” Bakugou dismisses when you’re far enough inside to close the door, and pulls open a cherry chest of drawers at the foot of his bed. It’s draped in pelts and pillows. Faded herbs hang in bundles above you.

“have clothes in my room.”

“Didn’t ask.” When he looks over his shoulder, you are wobbling towards the fire like a starving woman, with two hands reaching subtly from your side. Good, shut up and warm up. Bakugou rifles through his options one more time and grimaces, raising his own black Alderan riding tunic aloft; it’s the only thing that’s going to be long enough to cover all of you.

He’ll sort out this shitshow step by step– dry you off, shout scream scold, get you warm, shout some more– a good Alderan lecture, and then tie you to him if he must since you obviously can’t be trusted alone. Walking into the sea when you thought everyone was sleeping. And for what? He grinds his teeth and grips the sids of his dresser with the realization that he’s probably not going to sleep again tonight. He’d kill you if that wasn’t what you so obviously wanted.

“Alright asshole, get ch–” Bakugou chokes when he turns back to you, sitting politely fireside with a dagger materialized in your good hand, blade pressed flat to your collar. He jumps, black tunic flying and shouts indiscernibly in a lunge for the weapon.

Not fast enough because by the time he makes one step, you’ve driven the blade down your chest and clear through your shirt. It falls open and your bare ribs seize in goosebumps this close to the fire, “told you I’m not trying to kill myself.”

“Drop it!” He wails, as if to a dog.

Oh how you will haunt him until the end of time. A month with you, just some soldier from his castle– a prodigal apprentice in a kingdom of geniuses– an impersonable, silent, invisible guard, who should cause harm only when necessary and appear only in danger– a woman who does this job to a tee, and still somehow steals his attention to any corner of the room she conceals herself in– just a month and you have beguiled him. Reaping grim satisfaction from watching you wreak havoc in this place he loathes.

You sit in front of his fire in his secret room, half bare now that you’ve decided to cut your clothes off of yourself, and entirely bare when you run the lip of the dagger across your shoulder to catch the fabric and then rough straight down the other side. You are pink from heat and staring through him entirely unfocused, all chaotic braids and parted lips. There’s a dry track of blood smeared under your nose and he shudders to think what part of his back it was wiped on while he was carrying you away. The fingertips of your scar peek into free air. Bakugou can’t spin around fast enough, howling in anger.

You sound like you’re smiling again mournfully like last time, “following orders, sir.”

“Don’t call me that!” He roars and shoves the black tunic behind his back towards you. This room is small, maybe five paces wide, and so he sits as far as he can from you on the floor beside his bed, still within arms reach. Back turned.

What the fuck is so funny? This isn’t a headache this is sustained torture. Bakugou’s own wet clothes cling to him in dry patches of salt and stick and grit that he’s desperate to bathe away just as soon as you are tethered to another magician. In another kingdom. You breathe heavily behind him in a mismatch between effort and task and then a sopping thud reminds Bakugou that you are stripping to nothing behind him and piling your rags onto his fine rugs.

“You’re a fucking nightmare.”

“you’ll be free of me in a moment.”

And it dawns on him, seasick irony, that there isn’t a person alive in this kingdom but him who could stop you from doing a single thing.

“If you think I’m letting you out of my sight you’re concussed.”

You pause your fiddling behind him for a second before resuming and you’re close enough that he can still hear your less than methodic pulling and ripping. A huff here and there. In the seconds it takes you to speak again your voice is still laced with the amusement that makes his skin crawl, “third time I’ve told you I’m not trying to kill myself.”

“Save it– just hurry up.”

“was just saying a prayer.”

“Save. It. An excuse that fulla holes wouldn’t even work on Kirishima the naif.”

“because nothing gets past the Champion.”

Bakugou erupts, out of unwounded fists to clench, and jerks around with every intention of barking at you. He’s not sure what he pictured before turning and he’s not sure where his voice went, but you are sat beside his fire draped in his black tunic with an expression he can hardly find the words for.

What is it in the way your shoulders hang? Exhaustion? The way your chin tips or your eyes flutter? Hunger? You watch him like you’ll eat him alive, like your life is the least of his concerns. The laces at your collar drape limp over your fingers from where you gave up their tying and so the shirt hangs loose and open, and much much too big. Bakugou has never thought of the shape your sternum makes between your breasts or what color the fine hair on your thighs might be. He knows the answers now because you’ve given up on posture like a selkie out of water and everything so unlike his Captain– because something inside of you is slipping.

“don’t bother the Champion with this,” your voice is still draconian. Even as your body fails, your eyes are still dark and infinite and possessive beside the glow of his fireplace and under a window that looks out over black water, “or Lady Mina, or your Lords. Don’t worry them with me.”

Bakugou mirrors you unconsciously in the way he sits close enough to touch. Why do you say that? You keep saying it, ‘Lady Mina,’ all month the same thing. Sir Sero, like he’s not a soldier in Jeanist’s rear guard. Like Mina and Denki didn’t grow up in the castle with you all to learn magic fifteen years ago.

“They’re not,” he admits because something about you unraveling by the sea sucks the malice like marrow from his bones. Maybe something inside of him is slipping too.

The pair of you slouch on the soft rugs from home and sticky with foreign salt, looking. Your next smile seems to take every ounce of strength, “what?”

“They’re not lords.”

And in a rush, such horror ignites in the eaves of this tiny room like an Alderan dollhouse. It is a grease fire film of oil on water. He is the match. You drop your head to your shoulder and start to laugh like Bakugou isn’t watching the life evaporate from the top of your head and out his window in the heat that pinks your cheeks and blotches your chest. You laugh like you have life to spare, “course they’re not.”

You manage enough coordination to hold the chest of his tunic closed with one hand as you rise, still giggling bitter, nothing like the bells you rang for Todoroki.

“Stop–” Bakugou reaches for you as you walk past him towards the door but stops short of touching even the air.

“dream something sweet Highness, I won’t interrupt again.”

“Oi, wait–” He gathers himself awkwardly barefoot and still dripping seawater, to catch the door before you pull it open. You bow your head and reach for the knob at the same time as he manages to slam his palm and weight against it in case you decide you have enough life left to fight.

“Told you, you’re not leaving my sight.”

Maybe staring isn’t so much a habit as it is a system to keep you from collapsing under the weight of Alderan sun. You who watch the world carefully so that when you attack it is silent and succinct. As long as you’re only looking, just watching carefully, the world will never be in danger of you spilling the secrets obvious only to you, and your kingdom won’t have to acknowledge the war crimes it takes to teach a kid how to kill.

Bakugou looms above you and rests against his door on a forearm. You raise your head like it’s lead to look at him. Your mouth even opens to speak but then something like fire punches to life in the blacks of your eyes.

It’s not a blink this time, it’s a stutter at first– and your face is so flushed that it almost looks like you’re glowing– before something you see feeds the kindling to roaring. For a blessed second you aren’t smiling. You stare so deeply into your prince he can’t look away for long enough to realize that you’re reaching for him.

Why? Why are you leaning closer?

The first heat pools at the hinge of his jaw and then scalding follows. Why are your hands so hot? You pinch his earlobe between thumb and pinky and let your fingers graze over the ridges of ear just so gently that sparks itch where sweat prickles at his neck.

It’s still for a second before chills, agonizing, erupt up his spine, bone by bone as he realizes– as your prince’s face drops and his own hand jumps to reach his ears and what’s no longer there. His right hand grasps at Alderan gold, a tiny sun. His left only cups yours, so much smaller– and the ghost of your earring lost somewhere deep at sea. Six and bleeding in his hands, all grown up and at his mercy.

“I hate you.” You smile in anguish.

You don’t bother pulling your hand from his, only rest your head against the door and let your heavy eyes finally close. Nothing to hold back the freshwater tears now.

Bakugou almost isn’t fast enough in his shock to catch you when you begin to slide down the wall in collapse, “Y– shit– Y/n!” One hand pulls up on your own and the other reaches around your back to try and bring you into him instead of hard against the wooden floor like he’s still a prince and not just a man whose heart won’t stop racing.

“Y/n? Y/n,” he shuffles you in his lap where you landed, and breathes the shapes he hopes make the sound of your name as he searches, distracted. You are limp in his arms and entirely too warm to have been freezing to death a few minutes ago. Lips parted and rolling like you’re trying to speak. Running to safety with you on his shoulder, the seachill must have hidden your fever from him. He cradles your head to check for blood and holds your cheek when his fingers come out dry from your hair, "c'mon, Captain."

“majesty..”

Your heartbreaking laughter still bubbles up in quiet sobs and incoherence murmured through abandoned ego, “..m sorry,” when you manage to see through the tears for a moment before falling unconscious again. Every apology laced always with “mitsuki.” You must have been holding it back. You must have been keeping the fever at bay by sheer force of will because now on the floor against him, your body is so hot it’s making his chest clammy. Sweat has soaked into the nooks of your black tunic and pools in salt licks between your breasts. Fuck Alderan fire.

Your prince gathers your shoulders and chest, your waist hips and exhaustion, into a bundle in his arms and pulls himself up with his doorknob because he will not let you drown, he will not let you freeze, and you will not win by setting yourself on fire. As he rises, blood leaks again from your nose. Tears fall aimlessly against his heart split to six like a pomegranate. When Bakugou is king there will be no child soldiers.

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Jealousy, Jealousy.

Note: I tried Smth new w howl, pls pls lmk if u like it cuz I was half asleep as I typed this out (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠)

He's jealous.

It was only a quick pitt stop at the Wizard Pendragon's shop (one of Howl's many aliases) that set it all off.

A calm morning for the Pendragon's moving household was set to start and the shop needed a bit of upkeep as customers were running dry. So with the creaky floorboards all swept up and Calcifer warned to not misbehave, the clock-like magical device that hung next to the door signalled with a resounding ding and a switch in colour indicating where the castle had teleported to.

There was a long day ahead but you couldn't be more pleased.

As the hours went on Howl worked in rhythm with you as tinkering laughter was heard throughout the shop and bubbling mixtures were stirred harmoniously in cauldrons. There was a calm air to your love as he flitted around you with hands briefly coming to couch and maybe even teasingly squeeze at your hips as he passed.

"Pass me the dandelion leaves ?", He asked while focusing on the lilac fluid seeping from the side of the potion bottle he was pouring into.

You nodded with a kiss atop his freshly midnight-dyed hair - courtesy of sweet Sophie, you know she didn't mean it but you couldn't thank her more for the darkened charcoal colour that had seeped into his golden locks- and off to the ingredients section you went muttering past bottles of all sorts.

Coming back empty handed with no dandelion leaves in sight you let your eyes wander to his sprawled out form in the chair by the fire, Howl only looked up and smiled a bit disappointedly before getting to his feet and tugging on his boots.

You could already see long black feathers creeping out his cloak, predicting his speedy mode of transport for the errand.

"I'll be back in a moment sweetheart, not to worry. Markle will take care of everything."

Knowing full well the small child would've dosed off by now as he'd left to play in the fields while you both worked, you were left to manage the quaint store while Howl flew out for after a dizzying kiss goodbye and mumbles of bringing you wildflowers to carefully twist into your hair.

Then and only then did a customer decide to come in.

He was a polite young man, easily flustered and a soldier of the royal palace you noted due to the bluish uniform donning his slightly hunched physique.

He was nervous.

You grinned trying to ignore his demeanour so that maybe the pink in his cheeks would lessen.

"Ma'am, the queen has requested for a simple sleep draught from the makings of your shop.", He coughed, "please." came soon quickly after he'd recollected himself and pulling at the yellowed buttons holding his vest together.

You hid your smile behind the worn glove that your sweet partner had embroidered a pathetic attempt of a small daisy onto which you very much cherished, it felt like you were talking to a mouse rather than a fully grown man.

"Why of course."

The man...boy even, settled into a lone seat to watch you set up, eventually gaining courage to invite you into bubbly conversation that you found very boring very fast hence weren't all too interested in so short sugared-up answers were all he received.

The 'banter' he thought he was receiving on your end was honestly faked curiousity.

It seemed he was quite dim. Too dim for your liking.

His puny attempts to indirectly flirt were unoriginal and simply unwelcome.

Just as you were starting up your potion with another lame probe on the topic of the weather about to leave the man's mouth, your beloved hurriedly came in. Cheerily he was chattering on about a bird he'd been able to fly up close to in in his bird-like form.

"Oh, you should have seen it's-", Howl interrupted himself to stare at the man sat atop the brass stool across your apothecary tabletop, "feathers?"

His demeanor immediately switched.

Gone was the gentle, patient magician you were so accustomed to. There stood an intimidating wizard and he oddly felt much taller, much more powerful than a split second ago.

This was the Howl Pendragon you'd only ever heard about through word of mouth, not the one that childishly insisted to cuddle up on your ill-fitted couch or cast silly spells to jokingly make your hair stick up in different directions.

No. This was a whole different feel of a person and it seemed like the magic was almost spilling out of him in waves, you could almost taste it's electric crackling force in the air.

He felt more confident, cocky, ready to rip into this poor man down to his basic self-worth.

You liked it.

His lips twitched.

"Darling, who is this?"

Howl's voice was always deep and smooth as silk, just as it was right now, yet you were no fool and could pick up on the the roughened edges of his tone.

But it seemed like the young soldier took no notice of the emotional state of the suddenly very upset wizard in his presence. He only turning around to bow deeply in respect while stuttering out a greeting and an explanation of his presence.

Howl only had a curt nod to give as a reply and you could tell he wasn't very ecstatic have a new face in here.

If he could roll his eyes at the 'competition', they'd roll all the way to the back of his head to see his brain.

The next few minutes were tense as he only grinned tightly and came to your side to place a very domineering palm on your corseted waist pulling you in closer to his warm body, sending a clear message.

"I'm sure you've got this one little potion down love?", He said with his eyes sharply glancing to the young man that had very clearly receded back into his shell at this point.

Howl didn't even need to say a word, didn't even need to properly look at the guard for him to metaphorically back away. But of course he had to ensure he got his point across, so what else could he do but dip down to deeply kiss your lips, he was only seconds away from basically pushing his tounge into your mouth if you didn't stop his dramatic live-performance.

Nodding satisfied with himself, you huffed whispering 'show off' while he stepped back to tend to his dandelion-leaf-less potion.

You couldn't even look up at the barstool your customer sat on anymore with the intense blush covering your face and you could only imagine the agony of embarrassment he was going through.

With the potion sealed up and a-way-over-the-actual-price bag of coins thrown at the counter, he promptly escaped out the door not even bothering to check for any change.

Shrugging you turned back to glare at Howl who was innocently blinking into space.

"Was the last part really necessary."

He slowly smirked, tendrils of his magic swirling past your shoulders.

"Whatever do you mean?"

You quickly found yourself within his grasp, pressing kisses to your knuckles as an apology.

You knew he wasn't sorry at all.

Loud laughter could be heard from a distance as Calcifer moved the castle along to wherever your hearts desired.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[12:18]

You are a steadily flickering candle in Bakugou’s dim world. He’s not gloomy or upset or tortured– no no, he quite likes the dark.

His mom has always competed with the sun. Bakugou rose first in his childhood home because beating the sun meant a few hours of peace. He wakes up slowly and heavily like he’s shifting under soil while blankets slip into the creased shapes of his body. In those first few minutes of dark the whole world is buried underground.

Now that he lives with his idiot classmates he sleeps early. Bakugou likes to pull the curtains closed as the sun sets and melt deeply into a too-soft pillow before his eyes can adjust to the dark. Making breakfast alone at dawn, training as loud as he wants to be in the gym across campus lit only by the fires of his quirk. Even at high noon he likes to shower with the lights off, for in these rare moments of dark Bakugou can finally think slowly without competition to worry about. If he lived a quieter life he might even get bored, but blessedly his friends can't spare him a sneeze in peace.

Walking through the halls is like trying to hide from fireworks. Running into Deku is as safe as watching a solar eclipse. He’s blinding and always has been; Bakugou startles every time the fucking kid flashbangs with a ‘good morning!’ or a ‘Kacchan!’ Sparkplug might as well be an electrical fire and Mina makes a blaring siren look like an insult to emergency vehicles. Kirishima is at least tolerable. He shines pink like a happy lighthouse but you still can’t look at him directly for too long.

You though. Bakugou didn’t even notice at first the way you could only be seen in periphery. In the bustle of class and patrol you stayed soft and easy to see. As noisy as the rest but not blinding. Like crouching on the beach and watching a sparkler come to life in your hand. Like polished bells.

If you woke up early enough you might catch him in the kitchen and twinkle sleepily past like a shooting star through the common room. ‘Mornin’ you’d grumble through a yawn and candlelight would peek out between your fingers when you covered your mouth.

Titling his head slightly to glance at you in class. A halo of gold outlined your body anytime he let himself linger on you like this. Sometimes he saw nothing but you illuminating the vast expanse of peaceful dark. Easier to look at but still warmer than the sun. Maybe the sun couldn’t compete. Oh jesus the sun would probably love you-

“Oi Dynamight,” you murmur.

Bakugou jumps. His cheek falls out of his hand and his elbow slips off the desk. You weren’t the radiant moon basking above rising tide– you were straddling the back of your chair lazily to chat with Uraraka behind you.

Tch, he spits and turns his head quickly towards the window instead.

Your cheek squishes onto your friend’s desk, “you look red, feeling okay?”

“Don’t get us all sick before midterms dude,” Uraraka adds.

Bakugou doesn’t get sick, your sleepy moonglow smile just makes him ache. Not like a sunburn. It’s like being too comfortable in bed for too long. Like a good stretch.

happy birthday katsuki (*ᴗ͈ ˬᴗ͈ )