Ichiiyo - Nini - Tumblr Blog

Art Disclaimer: Please do not take the photo and repost. Feel free to reblog though. Commissioned jfairuz for this one. It’s so, so pretty. 

The Ruthless Prince Masterlist 

 Genshin Royal AU - Scaramouche x fem!reader

Summary: When Prince Scaramouche picks you out of a random group of commoners to marry, your life is turned upside down. He’s mean, snarky, condescending and he doesn’t act like a proper husband or prince at all. However, when Prince Tartaglia from the neighbouring kingdom takes an interest in you, Prince Scaramouche finds himself even more annoyed than usual. This is the story of him and you navigating this roller coaster of a relationship.

Chapter 1 - You’re Marrying Me, That’s Final!

Chapter 2 - Social Pretense

Chapter 3 - Can I Understand Him?

Chapter 4 - Pet Wife

Chapter 5 - Enter Prince Tartaglia

Chapter 6 - Just the Beginning

Chapter 7 - To My Heart

Chapter 8 - Where is This Anger Coming From?

Chapter 9 - Secrets

Chapter 10 - Resurface

Chapter 11 - Don’t Touch What’s Mine

Chapter 12 - Truce

Chapter 13 - New Rules

Chapter 14 - Happy Birthday?

Chapter 15 - Forever Hold Your Peace

Chapter 16.1 - Our Last Night

Chapter 16.2 - Our Last Night [NSFW version] at the moment can only be accessed through buymeacoffee

Chapter 17 - Separated

Chapter 18 - check back a little later…Maybe on Friday. Hello! Sorry! Been enjoying my holiday off work so didn’t get around to this! I’d say wait another week! Just really have a lot of fun things to do irl :D 

ABYSSAL LOVE

✰ “i’ll catch you the next time you fall.”

⋆⁺ ⋆⁺₊⋆ pairing — scaramouche x fem! reader [ college!au | SMAU ]

⋆⁺ other ships mentioned — xiaoven, xingyun, yantao, kaebedo, eimiko

⋆⁺ synopsis — Scaramouche, the person who tripped you on purpose just to see your despair expression on your face, hates how you always appear so happy in front of other people. He hated the fact that you find life enjoyable, unlike him. You, of course, hated him back. You don’t understand why he goes to the extent to see your face crinkle in pure dismay. But what if you realize that the person who always laughs at your misery isn’t so insufferable after you get to know him?

⋆⁺ tags / warnings — heavy cursing, crack, fluff, enemies to lovers, slowburn (?), familial issues, written parts + more will be added in the future.

⋆⁺ status — on-going | 220422 [ updates every 4-5 days | 14:15 GMT+8 ]

⋆⁺ taglist is open, please send an ask if you want to be added/removed!

✰ author’s note — please ignore the timestamps and dates ! this is my first smau and my very first contribution to the genshin impact community :) likes & reblogs are very much appreciated!

Keep reading

tokrev boys leaving cute little voicemails 🥺🥺🥺

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐋

+ mikey, baji, kazutora, ran, rindou, sanzu

tw: fem!reader, slight cursing, slightly suggestive? drinking mentioned(for baji) straight up fluff and super sweet boys <3

# 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐘

“hey angel, you’re probably asleep right now or binging one of your shows, heh. i know i always complain when you make me watch them with you but i’d be lying if i didn’t enjoy how happy it makes you. speaking of happiness, you make me happy, i’d love nothing more right now than to crawl in the bed behind you, wrap my arms around your waist and hold you so close to me while i kiss those pretty warm cheeks until you wake up and kick me out of the bed. i’m not sure when i’ll be home but i had some spare time and you deserve more than this voicemail but it’ll do for now, my spoiled girl. but anyways, i love you—don’t ever forget that.”

# 𝐁𝐀𝐉𝐈

“hey pretty, i’m really drunk right now and the walls feel like they’re melting but holy fucking shit i love you. me and chifuyu went out drinking but all i could think about was you and how much i miss my pretty girl. and your lips, oh god—they’re so pretty when they’re wrapped around my—wait, i’m supposed to be sweet right now, haha. i’m on a smoke break and i know how much you keep telling me to stop, i promise i’m trying cause i wanna be with you until we’re old and have a bunch of babies that look exactly like you but act just like me. shit—i’m gettin’ teary eyed thinkin’ about it—anyways princess, my love, the reason i wake up everyday—i love you, gonna come straight home and kiss you so much; have i told you i really miss your lips?”

# 𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐀

“do you believe in love at first sight? or is that kinda cliche to ask you—well actually i’m telling you because you’re asleep right now or just ignoring my phone call. i remember when we had our first date and you couldn’t stop staring at my eyes instead of the big fucking tattoo on my neck, or when people would glare at me you just held my hand a little bit tighter. whatever the fuck im trying to say is im in love with you, been like this ever since i met you and shit—i wouldn’t have it any other way. i regret so much in my life and what i have to suffer through is nobody’s problem but my own yet with you—i feel so safe, so fucking loved and is it too cliche now to ask you to be mine over the phone?”

# 𝐑𝐀𝐍

“now don’t get your hopes up, this isn’t my normal voicemails where you know—heh. i’ll leave that for when i get home pretty, you’ll really be begging to know all about it. we’ve been together a long time—what? almost five years? i remember you were the first one to see me with my hair cut short and embarrassingly enough the one to also hold me as i cried my eyes out about it. people say that you get tired of one another but that’s honestly the exact opposite with you. i always want to learn more about you even though i know everything including how much you hate listening to my alarm in the morning or the extra eight kisses you need before i can even leave. i am so madly in love with you that the mere thought of losing you makes my chest hurt, you got me angel, the ran haitani is at your beckon call until you get tired of me—which i hope is never because i know those other voicemails i do send you are pretty fucking nice.”

# 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐔

“ignore that i’ve called you like five times already, i forgot you go to sleep early when i’m not there, i sure keep you up, don’t i baby? haha i’m sure that’s gonna make you all flustered and cute when you listen to this. but i called to tell you how much you mean to me, how much i love you—what you do to make me feel so alive when all i’m ever doing is dealing with death. i’ve never loved anyone before and shit—i’m scared you’ll be gone one day. can you imagine? me? being able to wake up all by myself without you there? as soon as i get to work i’m so fucking exicted to get off because i’ll be coming home and know you’ll be there—my pretty girl and all mine. i lied earlier actually, i’ve called you way more than five, and i’ll keep calling you leaving voicemails telling you in each one why i love you. got me being all cheesy and shit but you deserve it baby, deserve all of me.”

# 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐙𝐔

“this bed is so cold without you—sorry for the morning voice, i just woke up and forgot you had work early so i whined into the void for thirty minutes till i realized my princess wasn’t here. when are you gonna be back? mm, you know i get so needy and restless without you here. i’ve got so used to having you in my arms when i get up that i finally came to the realization i can’t live without you. and i just so happen to be hopelessly in love with you and i demand for you to get home as soon as possible. people wouldn’t know what to do finding out i’m so weak for you. i'm probably gonna go back to sleep soon—maybe dream about what other things we do when i wake you up for your attention. mh, i love you pretty girl—you’ll never know how much you mean to me.”

GOOD 4 U

a xiao! genshin impact social media au!

i’ve lost my mind, i’ve spent the night crying on the floor of my bathroom but you’re so unaffected, i really don’t get it but i guess good for you

๑ pairing — xiao! x f! reader [ college!au exes2lovers!au ]

๑ summary — lesson learned! never challenge hu tao when you’re drunk bc you’ll just lose and now you have to post a thread of all your exes as songs from olivia rodrigo’s hit debut album sour … or: “yn desperate much!” “yn still loves xiao? yikes! doesnt he already have someone new?” “stop ruining my relationship u bitch!”

๑ warnings — a lot of cursing, 1 sided pining, implied cheating, relationship issues, slight suggestive content, implied stalking (not xiao), toxic relationships, toxic exes, mentions of nsfw but nothing explicit

๑ status — on-going [ 012322–XXXXXX ] : updates every saturday and sunday

๑ author’s note — ignore the timestamps and dates. this is my first smau so try not to judge it too harshly!! <3 parts that have this symbol ‘ღ’ means its in written format.

* smau banner credits goes to @.sh0uno on pinterest

— profiles

shade throwers & xingqiu

nobody asked -venti

— parts

I. YOUR APATHY IS LIKE A WOUND IN SALT

๑ [ 01 ] another episode of hu tao made me do it

๑ [ 02 ] your girlfriend is a major bitch

๑ [ 03 ] i’m just disappointed at this point

๑ [ 04 ] OK I JINXED IT! BAD XINGQIU!

๑ [ 05 ] kindly fuck off xiao

๑ [ 06 ] you’re thinking of groot, aren’t you? (ღ)

๑ [ 07 ] i see xiao’s not very creative

๑ [ 08 ] arent u on house arrest

๑ [ 09 ] he’ll take her side (ღ)

๑ [ 10 ] keep? more like blackmail

๑ [ 11 ] yo bestie what

๑ [ 12 ] there’s an empty seat next to me

๑ [ 13 ] no, you’re just predictable.

๑ [ 14 ] AHA SO U A R E DATING

๑ [ 15 ] what a loser (ღ)

II. WELL, SCREW THAT AND SCREW YOU!

๑ [ 16 ] no olivia song for me baby?

๑ [ 17 ] whoever gave it to you can fucking choke

๑ [ 18 ] well i already have yours

๑ [ 19 ] go get her

๑ [ 20 ] 'veronica open the door’ level kinda crazy (ღ)

๑ [ 21 ] look who’s talking, cheater

—» [ bonus! ] call me cute endearments too >:(

๑ [ 22 ] i just cracked the code

๑ [ 23 ] dont act like ur such an angel

๑ [ 24 ] 3rd floor, room 329

๑ [ 25 ] you know who u are

๑ [ 26 ] lies! lies! lies! (ღ)

III. LIKE A DAMN SOCIOPATH!

๑ [ 27 ] its just takeouts

๑ [ 28 ] “just” lmao okay

๑ [ 29 ] could’ve been a better man (ღ)

๑ [ 30 ] fuck you

๑ [ 31 ] IM THE MAIN CHARACTER ATM

๑ [ 32 ] bring a bitch down to her knees

๑ [ 33 ] once a snitch, always a snitch

๑ [ 34 ] how reliable of u

๑ [ 35 ] the million dollar question (ღ)

๑ [ 36 ] tba

๑ [ 37 ] tba

๑ [ 38 ] tba

๑ [ 39 ] tba

🏷 CLOSED — @bobaducky @alatusorrow @peaxhi-chi @melkxsh @xienn @meinoballs @vxnna @gorouswrld @k4miyato @xingqiusliegee @emmie5168 @tinybluewhale02 @one-offmind @redninjakitty14rp @royalz658 @buns-inhiding @fluffimemes @hanniejji @roseycottage @lashdraws @siluc @scarteamo @rrinsluvr @basicsofdying @wccycc @diestheticu @uwak-uwak-uwak-uwak @theproudqiqimain @m1kotsu @euryrue @sp1deys @kalop-siaaa @scentedcandlesandcookies @polluxminor @meowlumi @aratakis1utt @moonlighteclipse0 @daninaninani @zeroiskira @kiwinfinity @b1uuble @love6cks @lovelyycherries @animewolflover278 @exotic6utters @imtoodumbforaname @to-mi-yo @tsukimiru @estelwrld @aetherwrld @xiaothinker @iamnotgrootforiamthor @hermesary @karameruru-u @kaoruxkisser @yvechu @megsthings @cherrytomato2 @lovelyaudrey @silevvar @dazaiscum + TAGLIST #2

*pls inform me if u want to be removed from the list or you changed usernames. pls dont reply to this post asking to be tagged, send an ask instead thank you!

all rights reserved © ilkuni

I didn't mean to - part 1

Genere: heavy angst (ngl even I was hurt writing this)

Characters: bonten!mikey/ Manjiro Sano, bonten!sanzu/ Haruchiyo akashi, bonten!ran haitani

Warning: readers death, mentions of blood and corpses(kinda? Ig?), cursing, heartbreak ♡

Summary: You two got into a rather big fight which then escalated. He immediately regretted he's actions after.

Note: I proof read this once so if there's any typo or sumn ☝ ignore it <3

I hope this is good- my first time writing angst

Part 2

Requests Masterlist

____________

Mikey/ Manjiro Sano

"Ugh just shut up. You're annoying.", your boyfriend, mikey said. His voice was deep, filled with the annoyance and anger he felt. Even if he wasn't yelling, you could practically feel the wrath inside him. His sentences were dangerous, they were meant to be taking seriously.

"No mikey! I've had enough of this!", you yelled at him, fed up with the situation at hand. This fight has been going on for hours now. The topic of "you need rest", "take a break" and all your pleadings for him to take it easy were completely ignored. They were just brushed off with the usual "you don't know anything." Or the "Shut up. I don't need your concern."

"Enough of what? Being with me? Are you sick of me? Are going to leave me like everybody else did?!", his tone slowly rose sentence by sentence. He was getting so frustrated. Whenever you came to mind, all he would imagine was your constant complaint about him taking a rest. Every other loving thing you've said long forgotten.

"No of course not, mikey! I love you! But you need to listen to me! You're always overworking yourself, you don't show me any affection anymore, you're more aggressive than before!", it was getting too much for you.

He used to cuddle into you in bed while sleeping, now he either stays at bontens and sleeps there or he comes home extremely late to sleep on the couch. Before all this happened, he would always hug you at random times, now all he does is take your arm harshly to lead you somewhere. Whenever you joked about something, he'd smiled and laughed with you, now he doesn't even look you in the eyes. How did all this happen? When did it all go wrong?

"So I'm aggressive? That's the image you have of me? Good then. Of course the only person I'd ever take a liking to, would have a bad picture of me!", mikey shouted, pulling out a gun and pointing it at your head. "Is that what you think of me? Huh?! Am I a cold blooded yakuza leader and murderer in your eyes?! Do you think like that of me?!" You stumbled back, surprised at his actions. He wouldn't shoot you, right? He was infuriated but he'd never shoot his lover, would he?

He'd always tell you that he'd never hurt you, he would always protect and love you. He promised to always be gentle and attentive towards you. Never would he let his frustration from work out on you. But the Manjiro Sano right in from of you, wasn't the one who promised you all those beautiful lies. Right now, he was bontens leader, blinded by annoyance and anger.

You couldn't give up now. "Mikey, listen. I only want the best for you. You've changed in the last few weeks. You have to rest to get your thoughts and emotions back in check." Looking you directly in your eyes, you could see the emptiness in his. The emptiness even you couldn't fill, no matter how much you tried. "All you ever talk about are my flaws. What kind of partner are you supposed to be? Always telling me what I'm doing wrong. Ever thought about that you're the reason for all the things you hate on me? Ever thought about you being the one that I hate most? You're not as special as you think you are.", those words hit you. Right in the heart, shattering it easily.

"Mikey, no, that's not true. You promised me to love me. The same way I love you. You said you'd always protect me, you'd always be by my side. We made a pinky promise to always stay together. I love you, mikey! I'm just trying to help you! Don't say such hurtful things! Please! Let's talk about this calmly!"

"SHUT UP", he shouted before pulling the trigger. Your last breath unheard by the angered male. Your body fell numb to the ground, whispering one last 'I love you'. And there it was, the silence he'd longed for throughout this whole argument. Finally you'd shut up. Finally the nagging was over.

Turning around he continued, "I loved you! You were the most important person in my life! Always! No matter who left me, you'd always stay with me! You never wanted to change me, but now suddenly I'm not good enough?! Do you know how much it hurts hearing the person you love, pointing out all those flaws?!", he waited for your response. For the response that never came. "Hah. So you've run out of arguments?", he asked before turning around.

He stood still. Holding his breath, heartbeat quickening. He looked at your numb body on the cold floor. Blood poring out of your head. Lifting his hand, he looked at the gun, the gun which he killed you with. The gun which he killed his lover and most precious person with.

His breathing quickened, head feeling dizzy, hands getting sweaty. "Y/n?", he fell to the ground, throwing the gun to the side and crawling towards your body. "Wake up. I didn't mean it. I was just mad. I take it back. I love you, I need you.", he kneeled beside you, putting your head on his lap. "Baby? Please wake up now. It's not funny.", he choked out starting to tremble, shaking your shoulders. Tears rolling down his face, making his vision blurry.

Lowering his head to your chest, he checked for your heart beat. But he couldn't find any. His heart dropped. "No. No. No. Baby, please. I'm sorry.", he cried. He hugged your body and took your hand in his. Tears flowing uncontrollably down his face.

"I'm so sorry. I love you." His throat burned like fire and his eyes hurt just as much as his heart did. He struggled to breath, clenching his shirt where his heart was. He wanted this to be a bad dream, he wanted to wake up, but all he could do was sit there hugging your lifeless body and cry until he passed out.

Ran Haitani

God fucking damn it. Couldn't you just sit down and look pretty? The constant nagging and accusations of him cheating or being to close to other women was getting so damn annoying. He was fed up with this. Fine, yeah, you weren't wrong. He did cheat on you, but couldn't you just play dumb and ignore it? It's not like he had feeling for those women anyway.

"Ran, please. This can't be true. You wouldn't cheat on me, right?", you asked him. The feelings of betrayal bringing tears to your eyes. No, you couldn't cry now. Now was not the time. "Fuck, do you ever shut up? Give it a rest already.", the male responded, rolling his eyes.

You knew. You knew he was cheating. Everybody has been telling you about it, you've seen pictures and videos where ran appeared with other women. Kissing and hugging them. But worst of it all, you saw it the day before with your own eyes.

You came home early, tired and sleepy. As you walked closer to your bedroom, you heard moaning and grunting. You opened the door slightly. Your heart shattered as you held your breath, looking at them on your shared bed. Ran and a woman you've never seen before. But ran didn't notice you at the door, he was to focused pleasing the woman under him. The woman who wasn't his girlfriend.

You couldn't belive it, your ran cheating on you? Your sweet ran? The ran that would kill any guy that looked at you the wrong way? The ran that would put his life on the line for you ? The ran that always wanted to lay his head on your chest? The ran that confessed to you in the cutest way all those years back? No. It couldn't be.

"Stop lying, God damn it!", you yelled at him. This had to stop. You knew you should've left him, but you loved him too much to do so. Maybe he'd change. For you he would, right? At least that's what you'd like to think. "So now you don't trust my words anymore? Why would you believe others over your own boyfriend anyway?", ran knew you were right but he didn't want to admit it, he couldn't. He'd always sworn that he'd be loyal to his lover. Never would he cheat.

You sighed, "Ran, please. Just tell me the truth. I need to hear it from your lips." Ran was getting frustrated. He didn't cheat. He just had some fun while you were busy. It wasn't his fault. You should've taking better care if his needs. That random woman was just helping him. "I didn't cheat.", he said, "you keep doubting me. Is that how a relationship should be? Huh?" You could see him getting irritated as he walked closer to you.

You stepped back a bit, feeling intimidated by his tall figure and his murderous eyes. "Stop lying! Ran I saw you with my own eyes! I saw you with that woman in our bed! You cheated on me! Why would you do that!? Am I not good enough?!", you screamed at him. The pain was too much to bare, it was hurting inside. The stinging pain was too overwhelming, bringing tears to your eyes. "You ruined out relationship.", you sobbed.

No. No that wasn't true. He didn't cheat. He didn't ruin the relationship. He does not have such flaws. He acted before thinking. His hands flashed towards your neck. Tightening the grip with all his strength. "No, you're wrong. You're wrong. You're lying. That's not true. I'd never cheat. You're a liar. You want me to feel bad. You stupid whore.", with each sentence his grip got stronger. Mind blank with madness, eyes unfocused.

"Ran-", you choked, eyes wide with panic, struggling to breath. You tapped his arm, tried to push him away, tried to kick him, to no use. He was too strong. Your strength started to leave you, the lack of oxygen making you weak. Your were suffocating, eyes slowly closing before falling unconscious. Ran didn't stop though. If you weren't there anymore, then he couldn't cheat on you. Therefore he kept going for another five minutes, repeating that you were a liar and that you tried to manipulate him.

Once you weren't breathing anymore he stopped. He chuckled, "now you're quite and pretty. Just the way I like it. You won't get to manipulate me anymore." Taking you in his arms, he carried you to your shared bed, "you're not mad right? Since I didn't mean it. You'll forgive me, yeah?" Ran set you down on the mattress, laying down beside you with an arm around you.

"I love you, you know.", he realization kicking in, feeling tears streaming down his face uncontrollably. "Y/n, can you please come back? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do this.", the male cuddled into your lifeless body, head in the crook of your neck. "I'm so sorry", ran sobbed, "please come back. I want you back. I will never cheat again. I didn't mean to."

He held you tighter, pulling one of your arms around his figure. He wanted you to hug him back. He needed you to tell him that it'll be fine, that he's forgiven, that you loved him. But none of it ever came. "She didn't mean anything to me. I promise." His hand cupped your face, seeing your eyes closed broke him. "You promised to stay with me, why are you leaving?"

It hurt him. He knew this was his fault, he knew you were never coming back, he knew he'd always feel guilty, he knew he'd always loved you. His heart was splintered, stinging and squeezing in an indescribable painful way.

He couldn't keep it in anymore. "Please. Come back. Please. im sorry. I need you. I'm sorry, come back to me. Forgive me, baby. I never meant to.", the short haired man couldn't stop begging. Longing for your forgiveness. Yearning for you to hold him like before. To have your warm comforting hand in his hair while kissing away his tears.

Never had he regretted something as much as he did right now. Hours later he was still laying beside you. Taking your now cold hand into his, he intertwined your hand with his, "don't leave me yet." Tears coming back.

Sanzu/ Haruchiyo Akashi

"Please, sanzu! It's not worth it!", you pleaded, "Just leave bonten! They're no good!" Sanzu looked at you, he has been cleaning his katana for the past 20 minutes, and that's exactly how long you've been complaining. "Oh give me a break. You knew what you got yourself into, babe.", he was used to you complaining about his work but never did he consider actually leaving bonten. Bonten comes first, you come second.

"You shouldn't complain now, sweetcheeks.", sanzu never cared about what you had to say anyway. You were just his little play thing. "Haru, I'm serious. Please leave bonten. You're in much more danger than you were back then. This isn't the same kids gang situation we had before. This is real, and I'm worried for you.", you told him in a worried tone.

"I already know. So stop repeating yourself every single day, angel. You're annoying me.", the pink haired guy rolled his eyes with an unamusemed expression. "You should stay quiet. You're opinion is invalid, baby. Nobody cares.", he continued, finishing cleaning his katana. You knew he didn't care, and that hurt.

Before joining bonten, he was the sweetest person you knew. Always protecting you, making sure you were fine and loving you. Loving you with all his heart. Never would he hurt you in any way. You were his first priority, his most important person in the world. He'd give his life for you, he'd drop anything and everything to be there for you. Cuddling you whenever you were upset about your parents or school, making you some hot koffee/tea when it was getting cold, running to the store in the middle of the night to get you one specific candy. That's what he was like.

But now, he changed. Sure you were still safe with him, but it felt more like possession not protection. He was colder, more distanced towards you. You could hardly remember what his hugs or cuddles felt like, used to sleeping alone in an empty bed due to him barely coming home to you anymore. He never paid mind to your complaints or to your words, all he always had in mind was bonten. Especially his boss. The few times he'd be with you, all he'd talk about was his boss. You weren't his first priority anymore, mikey was.

"So, youre quiet now? That's great, love. Now you look much prettier.", he sighed, content with the silence. You looked at him, upset with the way he was brushing you off like this. All he cared about was mikey, bonten, his pills and that katana.

Your thoughts were running wild, so many things you wanted to say when you suddenly blurted out the actual reason why you started this argument, "it's because of mikey. You're so obsessed with that asshole that you won't even care about your girlfriend anymore."

Sanzu whipped his head over to you, gripping his katana tight. His eyes went dark, red from anger with the deadliest glare anyone has ever seen him with. But you were lost in your many thoughts therefore not noticing it. "What did you just say about my boss?", slowly he rose from his seat, voice dropping dangerously low.

"It's mikey fault. He occupies you brain all day long. All you think about is mikey, all you talk about is mikey.", you argue, frustrated with his blind loyalty for his boss. "Y/n. Shut the fuck up.", he warned. "No, haru! This has gone too far! Ever since you became bontens number 2 you always talk about him! You're clinging on to him! You follow everything he says blindly, lile a dumb dog! And then mikey himself is the worst! He makes you do everything for him! He uses you, and treats you like trash! He's horrible!", you shouted at him.

His katana moved swiftly snd quickly. "H-haru?", you asked in fear and disbelief. "Shut up", he ordered, as he used his katana to slice through your throat with ease. Sanzu stood beside you, his back facing you back as he heard you fall to the ground. Ringing for air and coughing up blood for mere second before falling completely silent. Dead silent.

Sanzu chuckled, "you don't ever talk like this about my boss." He stood there looking at your body, quiet with blood pouring out. "You were so pretty. If you'd just shut up, you'd be perfect.", the male said, feeling his heart ache. "I had to. I had to do it", his voice started to shake, his head feeling dizzy. Chuckling, he looked at his katana, the very katana that killed you. His only love.

"I don't understand.", sanzy whispered. He looked up and started to laugh quietly, "why does my heart hurt like this?!" Laughing louder, as if it was the funniest thing he'd ever experienced, he leaned back, "I dont need her! She's not important to me anyway!" He touched his face, wiping his tears, "if I didn't need her, then why do I feel like I lost the most important thing in my life?" After always thinking of you as his play thing, he never noticed his growing love for you.

You weren't just a play thing to him, you were the love of his life. Now killed by his very hands. "I- I have to stay loyal to mikey. Always."

But it pained him. He's killed many people before, even people he knew personally, but never has he felt like this. So broken and pained. Wanting to turn back time to hug you. Hug you so tight you had to tap his shoulder for him to let go, laughing like the way it used to be. He wanted to kiss your warm lips every night and morning like he used to do. Hold your waist and kissing your neck teasingly, just like the past years. But all that was never going to happen again. Everything was gone now.

He turned your figure around, kneeling next to you. Laying on your back, he admired you one last time, "I love you. I akways have.", he wiped away the tears, that fell from his eyes, off your face. "I'm so sorry I couldn't be loyal to you. You were never just a play thing, love.", tears streaming down faster than before, he kissed you one last time before silently crying his heart out.

Helloww~ I love your blog <3

Can I request more small cock mikey humiliation please

Hopefully this is good enough and what you wanted! Sorry for the long wait.

Tiny Cock! Mikey x GN! Reader (x Takemichi?)

Synopsis: Mikey likes to be humiliated because of his tiny cock and this time, his partner wants someone to see -> 1.6k words

Kinks/TW’s: sub! Mikey, dom! Reader, exhibitionism, degradation, humiliation, feminization, recording/video taping, dacryphilia, tiny cock, multiple orgasms

It was a sight to see Mikey standing tall and proud, commanding a gang of more than 100 men but when it’s just the two of you alone… he’s the one who is kneeling before you… truly a sight to see.

Pretty Mikey wearing a light pink skirt, a crop top that says Princess across the chest, white thigh highs that squish his muscled thighs complete with a pink bow in the middle, and lacy pink panties that hide his tiny cock completely.

Poor Mikey looking up at his partner with watery eyes as he’s forced to spread his legs apart to allow his partner to grind their socked foot against his cock, their foot easily covering it completely.

What would Toman think if they saw Mikey whining as he grinded his tiny cock against his partner’s socked foot while being recorded?

“Are you going to cum like this, Mikey?~” his partner teased as they enjoyed the show. “Should I send the video to Draken or Mitsuya… maybe Takemitchy?~”

“N-no,” Mikey whined but his cock twitched in excitement at his friends having the slightest chance of seeing him like this. “P-please d-don- ah!~” he doubled over as his partner rubbed their socked toes over his tip. His eyes watered from the pleasure.

“Cum.”

Mikey clung onto his partner’s leg as he rutted against their foot, crying as he shot thick loads of cum on his panties, wetting them and his partner’s sock in the process.

“Good boy~” They turned the camera off and set it aside. “Lay on the bed.”

The blond didn’t have to be asked twice. He laid on his back with his head against the pillows as he spread out his legs.

He shivered as a finger ran down his clothed cock and tapped the slit. “St-stop teasing me,” he whined impatiently.

“You’re going to regret saying that~”

Mikey gasped as he was flipped onto all fours while his panties were ripped off of him. His skirt was flipped up while two fingers entered inside of him while a hand wrapped around his cock, with his length not big enough to have the chance of poking out.

His poor little cock was squeezed and stroked perfectly causing him to bury his face into the blankets. “M-more, more!~” he begged pathetically. “Pwease,” he slurred as his eyes rolled to the back of his head as his partner’s fingers curled up and hit his prostate.

“Your cock is so tiny I have to finger you,” his partner taunted. “It’s like your ass was made for someone to fuck you because your tiny little cock isn’t good for that.”

He whimpered as squeezed the blankets below as the familiar hot pit in his stomach started to build. Fuck. How could Y/N say something so mean but hot?

“My poor baby… I should have someone check to see if your balls even dropped with how tiny you are.”

“H-hey!” Mikey turned to glare at Y/N but they weren’t there. He gasped as a mouth wrapped around his tip. He looked down and his eyes widened as he watched his partner suck his tiny cock.

“Y-Y/N!~” Mikey moaned in surprise. “Oh my god!” He spurted ribbons of cum inside of their mouth while his legs shook.

He always came if Y/N surprised him. No matter what they did.

The next time his partner played with him was in public.

Mikey snuggled closer to Y/N as he held onto their bicep. “It’s my not fault,” he said to Draken who sat in front of him with Takemichi beside him. “How was I supposed to know?!”

He bit the inside of his cheek as his partner palmed at the crotch of his pants discreetly. They easily unbuttoned his jeans and slid them down while taking his tiny cock out of the hole of his boxers.

“-Takemichi made Chifuyu-“

Mikey could barely focused on Draken’s story as he focused on Y/N’s forefinger, middle finger, and thumb stroking his cock as a leisurely pace.

He snapped his head up as his name was called. “Wh-what?”

“Are you feeling okay, Mikey-kun?” Takemichi asked worriedly as he leaned over the table and pressed the back of his head against the older male’s forehead. “You’re a little warm…”

“He’s okay,” Y/N responded as they sped up their pace. “He’s just getting over a cold from last night but I gave him medicine earlier today and he still wanted to come out.” It was a bullshit lie but his friends trusted Y/N so they believed them.

Mikey buried his face into Y/N’s shoulders as he let out a shaky moan. Luckily the restaurant was loud enough no one heard him and it helped he was sat in the corner of the booth.

“What do you think, Mikey?” Y/N asked as they smiled down at the blond. Their eyes had a glint of amusement while they waited for their boyfriend to answer. “My love? What do you think of Draken getting Emma a *present* for her birthday?”

It didn’t matter to him. None of it did. Not with Y/N’s fingers squeezing the length of his cock while their thumb rubbed his slit back and for it to the point where he felt like he was going to faint from pleasure. “Good,” he replied. “She’d love it.”

“That’s what I said!” Takemichi said and sent Draken a glare. “I told you!”

“If you and Mikey agree, it must be terrible.” Draken sighed. “Her birthday is so close…”

Mikey squeezed his eyes shut as he turned his face toward the booth. His legs shook violently underneath the table as he dug his nails into his partners bicep to stabilize himself.

“What would you do if they saw your tiny cock?” Y/N whispered in his ear. “Seeing you so hard while I stroke you underneath the table, if they can even see it.”

His cock twitched. “Y/N…” He didn’t know if he wanted them to stop or continue.

“Be quiet. Draken and Takemichi are in front of us, baby boy. Focus on your little cock getting stroked and cum underneath the table while they stare at you.”

Mikey glanced over to his two best friends as they talked amongst each other. He focused on Takemichi. What would the younger boy do if he knew what was happening right now? Would he shout Mikey-kun in surprise? Blush? Stare? Look away in disgust?

Whatever the reaction, Mikey wanted to know. He wanted Takemichi to see his tiny cock even if he could never look at the blond the same again because of it.

“I gotta take a piss.” Draken left the table and headed to the bathroom.

Mikey’s face flushed a dark red as he spread out his legs.

“Takemitchy~” Y/N purred.

“Y-yeah?” The blond asked as he snapped his head up in surprise at the tone Y/N said his name in.

Mikey bit his bottom lip as he locked eyes with Y/N and slightly nodded his head to give permission. His cock twitched excitedly as his partner pointed underneath the table and told Takemichi to look.

The blond boy looked underneath the table for a couple of seconds before coming back with bright red cheeks as he averted his eyes. “I-I—”

“Isn’t it tiny?~” Y/N purred as they leaned onto the table closer to Takemichi. “Pathetic, right?”

Takemichi gulped as he hooked his forefinger into the collar of his shirt and pulled it away from his neck. “It-it is tiny,” he said. He glanced at Mikey quickly before looking away. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

Mikey squirmed in his seat as he stared at Takemichi. “B-be mean to me,” he begged quietly. He rubbed his foot against Takemichi’s leg as he panted. “Fuck.” He squeezed his eyes shut as he almost came. Y/N moved their hand off before he could. “Y-Y/N,” he whimpered.

“Beg Takemichi to degrade you and I’ll continue.”

“P-please Takemitchy.” Mikey locked eyes with the younger male as he reached his hands over and dug his nails into Takemichi’s hands. “I-I want to c-cum.”

Takemichi gulped again. “O-okay,” he whispered. He leaned over the table. “It’s pathetic you have that small of a cock as our commander, Mikey-kun. I’m kinda disappointed. Why is it so tiny? Are you even hard?”

Mikey’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as Y/N started to stroke his cock again. This was so humiliating. How could he beg someone who wasn’t his partner to degrade him in a public setting?

“You’re dripping onto the floor but how? You can’t have that much stored up if you’re that small… even your balls are tiny. It must’ve been embarrassing to show Y/N at first. I can’t imagine how that felt…”

“Takemitchy’s degrading you, Mikey. What do you say? Where are your manners? Are you forgetting because you’re only thinking about your stupid tiny cock getting fist fucked?”

“Th-thank you, thank you,” Mikey choked back a moan. “Thank you, Take-Takemitchy~” He gasped as he bucked his hips up. “P-please, cum, I- cum, p-please!~”

Y/N sped up their hand as Mikey shot out ribbons of cum underneath the table, making it hit the underside of it and drip into the floor.

He panted heavily. “M’sorry,” he whispered to his friend.

“Don’t be sorry when you have such a tiny cock,” Takemichi replied. “Ah Mikey-kun… what do I do? I thought you were for sure bigger than me but you’re not.” He watched the blond carefully. “I could barely tell what was going on but Y/N’s hand movements gave it away.”

Mikey’s face reddened in embarrassment. “Don’t think you’re better than me just because you’re big-bigger—!” He gasped as he doubled over the table as Y/N started to pump his cock again.

“Naughty boy~ Let’s teach you some good manners while we’re here so you can be well behaved at home. Maybe I’ll fuck you just to see your cock bounce out later~”

The short male nodded pathetically. “P-please.”

“You need to get laid boss.”

“Shut the fuck up Ran,” Rindou hisses. “Do us all a favor and be quiet.”

“What? I’m just saying what we’re all thinking.”

Sanzu sighs, slumping into his seat.

“Do you think about my sex life often Ran?”

Kakucho is barely able to disguise his laugh as a snort. Ran shrugs.

“You’re the only one of us who’s married. I just assumed you’d have a better attitude since you’re having regular sex.”

“Jesus Christ,” Kokonoi breathes. “I wish you had an off switch.”

Mikey is momentarily distracted by the memory of how hard he’d fucked you in his office yesterday. Of the way you came so hard you’d sobbed his name. In retrospect, he should’ve realized his subordinates might hear.

“Maybe you’re the one who needs to get laid Ran. Your fascination with my sex life might have everything to do with the fact that yours is lacking.”

Ran splutters. Mikey continues.

“We have women for that Ran. To scratch your itches. To relieve your stress.”

Rindou snorts. “He’s lost his touch.”

Mikey blinks. “Bad enough that the women we’re paying won’t go near him?”

“That’s not quite the issue,” Rindou’s grin is feral. Ran pales, his mouth opening in an attempt to interrupt Rindou but he’s too late. “His cock wont seem to work.”

Mikey’s eyebrows disappear into his hairline. “Is that right?”

Kakucho is almost blue with the effort it’s taking him to hold in his laughter.

“Rindou doesn’t know what he’s saying,” Ran says quickly. “It was one time and I think I was just tired.” He finishes lamely.

“Really? My cock has never been too tired to fuck a willing partner,” Mikey admits. Though he’s definitely been milked dry. Your body has always been the one thing that relaxes him most. “How ‘bout you Kakucho? Koko?” Both men shake their heads. “And you Takeomi? You’re the oldest I’m sure you’re have had experiences-”

“Never experienced anything like that,” Takeomi drawls. His eyes twinkling when Ran’s face reddens.

“Well then,” Mikey sits forward, elbows on the table, eyes trained on Ran. “I think you should see a doctor Ran,” Mikey says conversationally. “We have one on call. I’m sure she’ll be happy to tell you what’s wrong. And hopefully, it stops you from thinking about whether or not I’m getting laid regularly.”

THE OTHER SIDE OF WEDDING RINGS

PAIRING ⋮ haitani ran x f! reader  THEMES ⋮ modern au (bonten! ran), established marriage, fluff, romance, heavy angst, hurt no comfort, heavy misunderstandings / miscommunication  WARNINGS ⋮ potential manga spoilers, mentions of infidelity   WC ⋮ 5.6k   SUMMARY ⋮ marriage was never easy. it has its ups and downs. its odds and evens and your marriage with ran was no exception to this.

listen to this while reading

Marriage.

It was truly an intricacy that you hadn’t considered much back then, much less pursued after. Still, as budding as you were, to you — the concept of having someone loving you for their whole eternity sounded like the greatest fairytale that was ever written. 

The old dusted romance books kept on your shelves were silver linings amongst the pristine documents on your work desk. It didn’t hurt to be a little hopeless when it came to love, you tell yourself, and it certainly didn’t hurt to hope for one every once in a while. 

But then you met Haitani Ran. 

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Sano Shinichiro's Twitter Account

sano shinichiro x reader ft imaushi wakasa, akashi takeomi, arashi keizo (benkei), sano manjiro (mikey), kurokawa izana and sano emma

i was just so bored and decided why not? send asks and let me know if you want more of these with other characters 👀

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Tokyo Revengers Taglist: @bxnten @rinsie @touyasghosty @rozcdust @chaoticwh0re @sweeneyblue1 @toobsessedsstuff @187skytree @kenmasbimbo @q-the-rockaholic @queen-flower @z0inqz @k-ryuuguji @sh4nn @devinsdaydreams @medusalovessnakes @kazufuyusluv @sh4gree @yunxbin @rizakari @lordbugs @wakasasucker @rxmera @crown5 @hanken @kisekihany @kokoswhore @yeehawnana @albedos-world @eriskaitto @iwaizumisbicep @xashiui @baditalianb @savagemickey03 @aces-high @sugusshi

NINI !

nini ¦ 22 ¦ '01

this is solely for reblogging and interacting !

writing blog is @ichiiyos

stop giving me hanma brainrot again pleaseee i am begging u-

consider smol hanma having reader as his only childhood friend. no one he actively sought out- kids didn’t like them and stayed away from him mostly- but reader just walked up to him, one day after their classes have been merged, look up and down his lanky figure and loudly declared hanma to be your friend.

and he is just sooo confused- you don’t make him do all the dirty work and don’t use him for more than sometimes opening your juice packages. he trails after you like a lost guard dog, a little unsure about everything but also awkward because hey you said you were friends and he doesn’t want to loose his first friend but at the same time… what is a friend?

a friend is you sharing half of your lunch because he didn’t bring any again, a friend is him giving you piggy back rides to win the duo race in gym class, a friend is doing homework together which he mostly copies from you, a friend is him acting as a pillow so you can rest after a long and tiring day-

but as he grows older he has to ask himself- is that really just being a friend?

you still grab his hand and drag him along, cheerfully chatting about your day but had you always intertwined your and his hand together? did you always make sure to memorise the way he liked his food? the chapstick you would always bring and apply during winter because his lips would always get so horribly chipped?

maybe its not only a friend. maybe it is love too.

help i am whipped stop it please this is ur fault

i am such a sucker for the bullied x first friend trope;;; he just deserves someone who loves him mannn

-🌌

*laughs maniacally like Stich does when he emerges from his escape pod* If I'm having Hanma brainrot, I'm taking y'all down with me-

now consider, Hanma who's always been above the curve in size. He grew up hearing comments from family such as "He was just such a homely baby." "Oh he'll grow into his features...hopefully." "He's just a little tall is all, he'll play a sport of something what else is he gonna do?" It doesn't take the kids in pre-k teasing him for his too short uniform or getting called a teacher all the time for him to realize classmates are just repeating an almost identical sentiment to what he hears at home. Hanma knows he's a freak, family made sure to let him realize that long before the nit picking kids in his class did the same thing.

then you happened. And happened fast. You had no reason to include the weird leggy kid at your color station. You had no real reason to extend an olive branch to him at all. But your offer is so warm, so confusing, so...not what everyone else does. When you offer him your very cool collection of markers and stationary to color with, well, Hanma asks why. And if more than a little startled to hear you say that's what friends do.

do friends really come as easy as the bullies do?

he looks out of sorts through every single grade you both graduate into. From kindergarten to middle school to high school. He still remains a head taller than you and the rest of the class throughout. And still the target for any nasty comments that go from juvenile and reparative questions about his size to downright nasty comments about his bony joints, how he can't seem to put on any muscle and that the rest of the boys in the class think he looks like an un datable freak none of the girls would ever talk to. Are they wrong though? So far they've been right in all their accusations, so what haven't you understood about that? And why do you allow him to follow you around like a lost puppy throughout all these years...

still you sit with him at lunch. Still you pack an extra snack for him even though you're going to cram school and he's going to go do something he'll regret later. Still you can't get the tab on your soda open and now you hand it off to without even trying to open it bc he's been opening your drinks so long he forgot when it all started. Still you show up at his house like he's going to sit down and study with you even if he's puffing on a cigarette blowing it out his bedroom window telling you he's just going to drop out there's no point in going. But...still he hasn't dropped out.

Hanma still goes to school. Still thanks you for the snack you packed him. Still opens your drink like it's second nature or listens to you go on about study work even if he isn't going to use it. Still follows you around with his hands stuffed in his pockets as you both graduate grade after grade.

he could have dropped out at any point. Should have dropped out at any point. And yet here he is. Watching you try to open the seal on your jelly treat. Knowing its his favorite flavor and not yours. But you got it with the intent to share so how silly of him of course you'd pick up his favorite. Or the way you swung his hand while you crossed the bridge over to the mart that you stopped by to pick up the treat. When did you even start holding his hand?

when his brows knit together and he's staring at your hand beside you because you're fiddling with your phone. Jelly snack gone but here you still are. He can't help but reach out and take your hand. Expecting you to pull away, act like the rest of the kids he grew up around, do something that would validate him feeling like a looser. But you don't. Of course you don't. It's almost second nature for you to lace your fingers together before you even look over at him. Brimming with a smile as you jiggle your hands up between the two of you before doing something stupid like licking his knuckles or anything else impulsive. Asking if he wants to get another jelly from the mart since it's a Friday.

Hanma doesn't really know what to say. He's never really known what to say. To you of all people. The only person who's decided you were friends before he knew what a friend was. And as you drag him out of his room. Leaving both your phones behind and his pack of smokes. Hanma has to wonder, if this isn't just friendship anymore.

Cute things they do || Tokyo Revengers

Characters: Takemichi, Chifuyu, Draken, Mikey, Baji, Mitsuya, Kazutora, Ran, Rindou, Kokonoi, Inui, Sanzu, Izana, Wakasa, Shinichiro.

Type: fluff

Warnings: broken English

Words count: 1,377

m.list

Requests are open

There's some domestic thing so think about it with their future self if you want.

English is not my first language so I'm sorry if there're any mistakes ♡

Chifuyu - catch your hand when he's excited

He's childish and gets excited over small things. So every time he sees something he likes or wants to do something cool with you, he takes your hand and squeezes, shake it while smiling wildly. He can take a high-pitched voice and get you where he wants without asking twice or letting you answer. You don't mind, it makes you happy to see him like this. If he excuses himself for being brutal, you shut him down with a kiss and tell him that he wasn't and you love him. 

Mikey - stuff his cheeks while eating

He loves to eat so either of you usually invite the other to go out to eat. You don't necessarily eat but he always does and that's the cutest thing to see. He's there, talking about gang stuff that makes him angry or anything while his cheeks are stuff with food. Imagine his face, dead serious, a frown and a dramatic gaze while he talks seriously with his big cheeks? Cute. You can't take him seriously and just laugh a little, still listening to him and humming to show him you are. 

Draken - fix your hair

Fix your hair when you're doing something and it bothers you, like your homework. He's not always with you of course but every time they happen to go in your face and he's here, he tuck them behind your ear for you. Sometimes offers to tie them for you. He also takes the stray hair off your clothes. He likes taking care of you that way. 

Mitsuya - hides his face on your shoulder when he's tired

He'll come to you and just nuzzle his nose in your back when he comes back tired and you're in the kitchen. You don't talk much and wait to see if he wants to or not. But, usually, he just recharges himself like this. He can also take you on his lap so his head can stay on your shoulders while you watch the tv. Hugging you tight against him so he's sure you're not going anywhere. He just found a lot of comfort in this position. 

Takemichi - nose scrunch when he doesn't like something

It happens pretty often to to say the least. Whenever it's about a not that good garde, something he tastes and doesn't like or about the gang : he does that all the time. When he whines about something to you too, so you take great pleasure to boop his nose for him to stop. He'll blush hard if you chuckle on top of it but call him cute and it's long forgotten. 

Kazutora - hide his face with both hands when he laughs

He's the cutest. I don't make the rules. I feel like he'll be shy about his smile and laugh so he covers it. His hands even cover his nose and you can feel your heart exposed cause it's too much for you. You'll hold it dramatically, making him confused but amused. With time, you'll start to take his hands off when he laughs and tell him that he's so pretty that he doesn't need to cover his smile. I'll literally die to make Kazutora feel good about himself my sweet baby 

Baji - love going outside when it's raining

He'll pull you outside without asking twice and make you run through the storm that began outside. People are running around you to find a shelter but he's keeping your hand in his, running while laughing at them. Pure joy is written on his face and you can't help but laugh with him. Yes you'll end up wet to the bones and maybe sick as hell, but it's okay if you can see him that happy. 

Koko - types in the air before actually typing on his laptop

He works a lot but loves to have you near him while doing it. He spends most of his time on his laptop, checking a whole bunch of things that you don't understand at all. Plus you're busy with your own things but you still steal glances from him and always catch him typing in the air when he thinks. Sticking his tongue out is a basic thing for him but seeing him doing both is the best sight. 

Inui - fall asleep on your shoulder, sometimes drool

He loves to hug you from behind or your side when you're working. You keep going on with your studies when he doesn't and he wants to show you that he got your back even if he can't help you. So he stays with you like this for hours till you're done. But he often falls asleep in the process and your shoulder is the best pillow. His deep breath close to your ear doesn't really bother you, but when he drools on your shoulder you can't help but sigh. It doesn't disgust you, just being wet is not the most comfortable thing. You don't mention it when he wakes up anyway. 

Ran - hug pillows

You honestly never expect that so when he steals the pillow on your back to hug it you were like "eh ?" inside. But do not tell it outside and go on with your movie night. It was just so adorable, you were taken aback. Then you notice that he takes a pillow on him even when you just talk, on his lap or his arms without thinking about it. You will fangirl deep down, wanting to hug him and play with his cheeks but he'll never let you. You wanted to be the pillow tho. 

Rindou - check if he has his glasses on

Yeah pretty basic I know but wait, imagine him putting his whole hands in front of his face to check. Like, he's casually writing and then bam two fingers go to his eyes to check if he wears them. He ends up with two dirty prints on his glasses or one in his eye. He'll curse under his breath even tho he's ready to kill himself and wants to say it out loud. When you catch him doing that you laugh so fucking hard like it's the funniest thing ever. He will tell you to shut up. btw I do that

Sanzu - bread smile, like :]

It's a thing he does when he's disappointed or doesn't understand something. He keeps his straight face beside that, it's only his lips that go in a thin line and his cheeks seem suddenly full. His scars make it even cuter. "You okay Haru ?" You'll ask, to know if he needs anything. He usually shakes his head and deals with it alone cause he's a big boy. But you end up helping him often. 

Izana - pulling stray hair when it comes in front of his eyes

You couldn't say you notice this but watching him pulling his hair is just so funny. He looks like an idiot with his eyes focused, looking for that one hair that always leaves the others. A little "ah" always comes out of his mouth when he's done. He doesn't really know you're looking at him when it happens so don't mock him please, he will pout. 

Wakasa - hide you in his Brahman uniform

He comes behind you without you noticing and the next second you can't see. Yes, he does that outside too, to annoy you or keep you warm. He just loves the way you completely disappear in it, it's adorable and you look even shorter. Hug him please, he'll blush and even if you don't see it, you know it. 

Shinichiro - put his shirt inside out in the morning

He gets dressed while being half asleep almost every morning and it's never not funny to see the tag on the top of his back. You're still in bed, under the warm cover when he gets dressed at the end of the bed. His sleepy head and mumbling about how tired he is and don't want to go to work. It's so funny to you : he's always bothered by it. So you slowly get up to wrap your arms around him, kissing his cheek sweetly while hugging him before you say "it's inside out again love." And he'll sigh with all his soul.

It really look alike with the other one but I thought about it so here it is, sorry I'm not the most original person ever. I was thinking about an another one but I finished this first

For Sanzu, I actually thought of Jaehyun in nct and thinking about this with his scars lslslss adorable

a/n: been having skaterboy!yuuta brain rot for a while now. So take this😁. Yes Toge skates and yes he talks🙄.

Pairings: skaterboy!yuuta x skatergirl!reader

skaterboy!yuuta who’s literally so good at skating but is so self conscious. He hates going to skateparks because he thinks he’s ass. He will not post an edit or clips. Either you or Toge record him but whenever he watches the clips he thinks he looks so bad or always points out things. who gon tell him… “Look you see that! My arms look so dumb…” Cue you and Toge looking at eachother with annoyance because you both know he looks so good. For him to ever post one you would have to hype him tf up.

skaterboy!yuuta would probably have either the date of the day you guys started dating or your name with a little heart next to it written on his board . He wants to teach you how to skate soooo badly. He’s always seeing videos of couples skating and it makes his heart do flips. If you’re down to skate then he will literally buy a whole board and everything. He will teach you all the basics, what to do, what not to do. You will never fall when you’re around him. Will always and I mean always! Praise. You. Lwk expects praise in return…

skaterboy!yuuta who has the most immaculate style ever. He already has that perfectly messy hair but on top of that the way he dresses? Always wearing those baggy jeans and band t-shirts yes he listens to rock.don’t like it? cry about it. skaterboy!yuuta wears jewelry and he looks even more fine. He has rikka’s ring accompanied by a ring you gifted him for your guy's anniversary and a bearing from his first skateboard. He has a silver chain and a silver bracelet, also wears other colorful bracelets. Don’t get me started on him with a beanie.

skaterboy!yuuta always shows up to your house with bruises or cuts scattered on his legs, elbows, shins, and back. Loves when you pamper him with kisses and hugs after you treat him. You always kiss his injuries which makes him blush so much. “Thanks again babe, I feel way better.” He smiled at you. “Of course Yu.” Smiling back, you pecked his knee then kissed the corner of his mouth. Erupting a red blush from him.

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God is Good and never Evil

Pairing: Reader x Fyodor Dostoevsky  Word Counts: 5k  Note: There’s a lot of heavy context in this with religion and too much unnecessarily  philosophy talk of Good and Evil. Originally from my fanfic that I have unpublished and now were revised as stand alone one-shot instead. Credits to my friends Negin, Mel and @soukokuwu​ for helping me proofread this one and everyone else who helped me with the definition of Good and Evil!

He always thought that he was complicated and no one could understand him. It might be difficult, yes, but not impossible, if you could catch up to the level of his intelligence. But that might also prove to be challenging, as no one actually knows what goes in that genius head but Fyodor himself. He appeared hard to predict and read, and trying to figure him out will only wear you out in futile attempts as he is always three steps ahead of everything, and that’s how he believed himself to be: superior and above everyone else.

Where was he?

Just as you were running out of places to look, you figured out where he might be. If he wasn’t in his private library reading his massive collection of books, then he would be inside his music room, spending time alone with his mind while playing his dear cello. He always spends his time thinking about various things; about the world he wants to cleanse and simple things that he came across in his martyr. You know your dear Fedya, he is an excessively meticulous man- perfection is what he always strives for and no mistakes are permitted. Sometimes when in doubt he would go back just to make sure everything went according to plan. Despite his overbearing confidence, he bites his thumb until it bleeds, and the gnawing exhaustion shown on his face when he is deprived of sleep after staying awake for several days straight, lets you know how fragile he still is. 

After all, no matter how grandiose his claims are to you and how ridiculous they might sound, he is still a mortal being. No God would bleed and no God would need rest like he does, because isn’t God supposed to be all perfect? He still has his limits, though you always want to remind him not to push his frail body too much. How little he would bite off his loaf of bread, simply adequate to satiate his hunger and no more, his body emaciated day by day with the little care he put. However, Fyodor doesn’t like it when he is reminded of those petty things, and so most of the time he prefers to be left alone. No words are spoken on the topic, but you know; he doesn’t need to explain every single basic detail for you to know. He knows what he is doing and needs no mothering from you or anyone else. He can actually be a bit childish and immature sometimes, and that’s a trait he didn’t even realize he had; flaws that he didn’t want to admit but you noticed.

He is still a young man, too young to shoulder all the rest of the world’s sin, but he took the matter into his own hands and let it be soaked and tainted in blood of his sacrifices and fallen victims within his act of mercy. 

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⤏ dominion 

summary. lust, longing, love—all of that was unattainable for a man who lived in the shadows of his own sin. that was until you brought to him a fleeting taste of heaven. now, mikey would stop at nothing to keep you by his side… no matter the consequences.

pairing. mikey x fem!reader, a hades & persephone retelling

cw. forced engagement, mentions of murder, mention of a funeral, mentions of gun wounds, injuries, tension, allusions to torture, blood, gore, alcohol, sexual tension, language, smoking, jealousy, slut-shaming, rape/non-con elements, fingering, cunnilingus, explicit sex, exhibitionism, tattoos, murder (many people get shot in this fic), motorbike sex, praise, degradation, voyeurism, nipple play, breeding kink, unprotected sex, orgasm control, orgasm denial, c*mming untouched, squirting, foreplay, choking, blowjobs, deepthroating, light bondage, sex toys (vibrators + nipple clamps), cum play, aftercare, betrayal, angst, near-death experiences, mentions of pregnancy, fight scenes, anal, gangbang, spit kink, double penetration, cowgirl position, face down position, mentions of non-con recording, possessive behavior

wc. 28k+

a/n. it’s here—this monster of a fic that has haunted my thoughts since it was conceived. thank you all for your patience and kind encouraging words! without them, i wouldn’t have managed to pull through <3 the next part will be posted soon! 

part 1 ┆part 2┆彡 playlist

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staring at the sun ➸ geto suguru (chapter four)

OVERALL SYNOPSIS: you think that chasing after golden dreams is tiresome, but suguru thinks that the reward at the end of the road is worth the effort. you can only watch from the supporting sidelines as he climbs up the social ladder, all the while not knowing the consequences to come. —OR… you watch suguru turn from rags to riches while debating whether to leave you behind or not.

CHAPTER SYNOPSIS: to think that father solomon would see the people he would think would be glued at the hip forever start treating each other as strangers is something that unsettles him.

WARNINGS: geto calling people “monkeys” :P

WORD COUNT: 6.9k

SERIES MASTERLIST

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CHAPTER FOUR | ROCKET MAN

Father Solomon looks worriedly over to the sight happening at the parking lot in which two individuals engage in a heated conversation. One wears an expression of anguish and anger, while the other wears distress and desperation. The taller figure is consistently trying to get the shorter one to look at them by grabbing their shoulder or wrist before the latter pulls away and attempts to walk away again. Sister Cybelle goes over to say something to him, only to see what he’s looking at and blinks at the sight of two people she thought were basically connected at the hip disconnected, a cloud hanging over the both of them.

“Leave me alone, Suguru!”

“Just let me talk to you first!”

Sister Cybelle asks, “Did something happen between them?”

Father Solomon shakes his head. “I’m not too sure, myself.”

The priest attempts to walk forward in an attempt to break up the heated tension between you and Suguru but you manage to break free from his grasp on your forearm and stomp away, too upset to be dealing with another stressor. You almost walk past Father Solomon, until he stops you by gripping your shoulder, a hold much more gently and acknowledging than Suguru’s. Detecting what he’s about to say, you shake your head, letting him know you don’t want to talk about this right now. The priest blinks slowly at you before sighing.

“That seems to be a habit you’ve never seemed to break, (Y/N),” he says sadly, “You know you don’t have to shoulder all your worries by yourself.”

Ceased to a silence, you thin your lips. Father Solomon has always been too good at reading people both young and old. It’s one of the reasons why he became a priest in the first place since his empathy levels were a lot stronger than the normal person’s. While it’s one of the reasons why you favor him so much, it’s also one of the reasons why you always tended to avoid him because knowing you, you’re too easily read. Your expressions are much too vivid and you’re not exactly quiet when it comes to things that disturb you. Your lying skills aren’t the brightest, either.

“It’s nothing,” you mumble.

Father Solomon can most definitely guess that whatever is going on between you and Suguru, is not just nothing. A heavy sigh exhales through his lips. “I’m called Father Solomon for a reason. Talk to me. You can even badmouth Suguru and I won’t tell him—it’ll be like gossiping. You’ve done it before, you can do it again all you want.”

This manages to finally crack a smile in your frown, making Father Solomon a little relieved at how your tension wasn’t too rigid. It doesn’t last for long, though, because his growing dark hair reminds you of someone else’s and you sour upon realizing it. Again, you shake your head and mutter that you might talk to him later, obviously still stubborn to let him inside your little bubble.

Father Solomon watches as you look back one last time, giving a look that doesn’t last more than half a second at Suguru before finally walking off.

Suguru jogs toward Father Solomon but before he manages to pass him to try and get to you, the priest stops him with a hand shielding his chest. Figuring that Suguru would only be met with another set of disappointments, he creates a barrier between him and you. He figures the material he’s wearing costs at least a month’s pay and he can’t help but give a soft chuckle at how materialistic his former pupil has gotten.

“What’s so funny?” Suguru gripes, his eyes still locked on your minimizing figure.

“You’re not even going to say hello, first?” Father Solomon asks with a playful tone of voice, resistant to mood swings made by both children and adults. “It’s been awhile, you know.”

Suguru stiffens upon realizing his improperness. “Sorry,” he mumbles and gives a light bow out of respect to the priest. “I’m sorry, Father. I wanted to come sooner, but there was traffic and my manager refused to let me go until I finished up a segment of this project I’m working on. Then there was a short meeting and th—”

Father Solomon stops him by putting a hand up. “No need for excuses. I’m just glad you took the time to come here out of initiative,” he comforts gently before asking the obvious when he notices Suguru’s eyes quickly flash back to look at you. quickly dart behind him. “Is everything alright with you and (Y/N)?”

When Suguru refuses to spill the truth out of nervousness, Father Solomon looks at him pityingly as he switches between looking at the priest and you, who was engaging in a solemn conversation with another Sister.

It had surprised the elder when four years ago, you had excitedly called him while on the road on the phone and brought it up to the car speaker, telling him that it was Suguru’s voice. He remembers Suguru telling you to hang up the phone in embarrassment before you loudly laughed and said no and telling Father Solomon to search up his debut song that had gained a massive amount of positive responses. Thoroughly impressed at how Suguru had managed to shoot up to the same level as multiple A and B list celebrities, Father Solomon couldn’t believe that a simple small town boy had grown up to be such a rising star in a short amount of time.

Suguru had always been a visible show of talent. He self-taught himself to play the guitar when he received a hand-me-down from Father Damien at only eight years old and had later moved on to other instruments that were offered at the orphanage. He was given his very first songbook, a blank one that might be in ruins by now on his eleventh birthday and had already finished it by the time his twelfth birthday arrived. Before she passed, Sister Carolina had requested for him to play in the church instead of being an altar boy and Suguru had dedicated himself to playing the organ or a soft acoustic guitar in the background for ten years before he finally moved out.

It made the priest proud to find out that his name was starting to chart up on the top hits on the radio and even prouder when he began to hear his songs on the radio because Suguru had managed to make something special out of his gift. But while he didn’t want to jump to conclusions, Father Solomon must’ve figured something that had corrupted the humble and soft spoken musician considering the look you had given him in the parking lot was a look you rarely put on your face. He didn’t know that one of the peppiest people he knew could even give such a face.

“Do you want to speak more in private?” Father Solomon pipes up. “My office is still standing.”

Suguru swallows apprehensively before slowly nodding. Father Solomon perhaps considers it his way of still trying to avoid the burned-down orphanage that held too many memories that he doesn’t want to visit with an aching heart just yet. As they trail down the path of the forest that leads towards the church’s sister building where a smaller chapel is hidden in the beauty of the forest.

Suguru finally has the courage to speak up as they enter into the empty chapel, the doors creaking behind them. “I ask my agent to donate around $10,000 in relief funds, is that okay? Do you need more? You could just always call me if—”

“I think that’s well more than enough, Suguru,” Father Solomon says gently with a small smile.

Suguru nods with a strain in his neck before he sheepishly scratches the back of it. The difference between yours and Father Solomon’s treatment to him after not seeing him for a prolonged period of time makes him ill at ease. “Where are the kids located now?”

“They’re currently inhabited in an empty floor of the pediatrics hospital downtown,” Father Solomon replies, letting Suguru admire the old beauty of the chapel until he leads him into the further rooms where priest offices lay. “It isn’t the cleanest option, but it’s the most comfortable as of now.”

The former child that now towers over the priest looks northwest, where the heart of the town sits. Father Solomon glances at him briefly, acknowledging the pained and merciful expression painted on Suguru’s face as he stares out the window. He supposes that there’s still that little bit of his old self still buried in that matured heart of his, the Suguru that did charity work out of the goodness of his heart without being asked to.

Father Solomon puts a hand on the small of his back, patting it gently, a motion he used to do when Suguru was younger to calm him down from his consistent adrenaline attacks that he’d get from contemplating his existence too much to the point where distress would surface then later flood his developing mind—an awful habit he had developed much too early. Father Solomon still somehow bears some of the guilt from how Suguru would always watch as the child he helped take care of be whisked away to a new, fresh family. “Don’t worry, they’re all safe. The nurses provide the little ones with many toys, especially.”

“I don’t know why,” he starts slowly, eyes still hazing with a sort of cloud in them. “but I feel somewhat guilty,” Suguru mumbles.

“Don’t bear any weight that isn’t necessary,” Father Solomon advises carefully. “None of it wasn’t anyone’s fault, let alone yours.”

“I know but,” he pauses, thinking to describe the indescribable feeling that’s deluging him. “I… I don’t know. This is just an entire headache for me, to be honest.”

Father Solomon stares at him with pall eyes. “The orphanage or (Y/N)?” he asks, trying to clear up blurry context.

Suguru thins his lips before sighing out, “Both.”

“Don’t mind the orphanage for now,” the priest denounces. “The entire town said they’ll help with reconstruction for a bigger and better one, so we’ll take care of that.” They both walk into the office that’s shared with the other priests and it amuses Suguru the difference between Father Damien’s messy and disarrayed desk filled with pencils and pens spilling all over and the tidiness of Father Solomon’s with his packets all aligned in order with the bible neatly placed atop the placemat. Father Patrick is still the middle ground between them, paperclips and other stationery sprinkling everywhere but still somehow his bookcase is aligned neatly and the small ceramic figures the children often made for him are still placed like figurines on the shelves.

When you and him were younger, you wanted to make a mushroom house for the fairies you firmly believed in while he wanted to make Father Patrick out of the given clay. Though the colors of the paint were fading, the structure of the indented mushroom house you were never able to bring in the forest and the poorly-made clay figure of Father Patrick and his exaggerated beard were still standing next to each other, just like the majority of yours and his belongings.

It was often said amongst the children in the orphanages that when they would play outside in the chapel and church playground that when you were pulled aside and brought to the chapel’s office when would misbehave, you were in big enough trouble that everyone would taunt you with jeering “ooooh”’s. It seemed like such a terrifying place for Suguru when he was younger but now, only a place of secrecy and safe havens alike are settled here. He feels at ease, strangely enough, as the scent of created chamomile tea begins to aromatize the air.

He lets one of the mugs down on the table beside the couch as he sips from his own. “Before anything,” Father Solomon starts as he motions for Suguru to sit himself down on the couch. He goes to round his desk and pulls something out of one the drawers of it, staring at it for a minute before he relieves himself and reveals a small book, no bigger than a few pages thick. With tender fingers, he hands it to Suguru who looks at it with visible confusion.

“When you and (Y/N) said to me and a few other people that you planned to attend the same college together when you were children, we had secretly collected these photos as a developing graduation gift for you and her,” Father Solomon needs to finally sit himself at a stool as Suguru’s trembling hands fathom to open the book. “But when we found out only (Y/N) would be going to college only, we decided to abandon it for the meantime until you began. I suppose that never happened since the route you’re taking right now seems to suffice,” he shrugs, “I actually forgot about it until the fire started and I managed to salvage it before it burned down with the rest of everything else, but I’m not sure if you still want this or not.”

Suguru’s eyes haze for a minute, trying to properly refocus on what he’s looking at and making sure it’s real.

The first photo, the start of many to come by, features two sleeping babies side by side in the same crib swaddled in onesies—one wearing a fluffy yellow one stamped with baby ducks and the other exhausting a pale blue one with flowers.

Father Solomon looks at the picture from upside down. “I never told you this but (Y/N) was brought into the orphanage about three months after you were, that’s why your birthdays align with the date you came here. You both were excruciatingly loud when you cried at night, did you know that?” he chuckles softly at the memory of the sisters complaining about two awfully noisy babies in the divided nurseries. “The only time you were able to sleep peacefully was when you and (Y/N) were placed in the same crib in the napping room. We didn’t know why it was strictly only you and her until your friendship formed when you were toddlers.” Father Solomon gives a short laugh. “Do you think it’s fate?”

Suguru stays quiet, slowly flipping the page after staring at the singular, labelless photo for some time. The next is two pages full of photos of the toddler days—one is of you holding a fluffy dandelion up to the camera with a delighted, innocent smile with the one below it of what seems to be four-year-old Suguru showing off a toy truck smothered in paint. The next ones are photos of you and him playing in the sandbox that used to be in the playground.

More photos arise gradually. Five years old, a photo of you and him holding hands on what seems to be a field trip to the local zoo with matching lion hats. Six years old, a photo showing the entire orphanage smiling for a group picture in the snow all warmly bundled up with a close up of you and him next to each other. Seven years old, a photo of you in the front seat of a raft, Suguru in the middle, and Father Patrick at the back at the beginning of a water slide, hair damp and exclaiming as water sloshes on the side. Eight years old, a singular photo of Suguru showing off his A+ on his math worksheet. Nine years old, a photo of you putting horribly-applied makeup onto what seems to be poor Luca whose bottom half of his face was smothered in dark red lipstick and eyelids slapped with purple eyeshadow featuring Sister Ha-yeon yelling in the background about her makeup bag. Ten—his tenth birthday party with you laughing beside him. Eleven—Suguru and you playing piano together. Twelve—first day of middle school (you’re taller than him by half a head). Fourteen—first day of high school (you shared the same height). Eighteen—high school graduation featuring you both holding up your diplomas with a cap enveloping your heads (he’s a significant amount taller and it’s stayed that way).

“When I said you and her grew up together, I meant it in the most specific way possible,” Father Solomon finally says as the photo album ends, Suguru still staring at the backing of the book. His eyes heavy themselves a little, noticing how Suguru’s hands haven’t stopped trembling. “You were each other’s past, present, and future… what happened?” the priest finally asks, ready to take on the storm Suguru is about to bring.

It takes Suguru a couple of moments to bring himself back to a reality that he doesn’t want to face—he busies himself with looking at the past instead, choosing to dwell on the happier, more peaceful times. Times in which he didn’t have to pick up the pieces of what is now a shattered relationship between the person closest to him.

Suguru groans and rubs his forehead so aggressively, it seems as if he was trying to scrape the exhaustion that’s been compiling up onto him for God knows how long. “I fucked up.”

Father Solomon bites back a remark to remind him not to curse in front of him and scoldings of how he’ll shove soap in his mouth like he did when Suguru was younger. “In what way?”

“More like ways,” Suguru enunciates, “Shit…”

Father Solomon allows him to wallow in his solemnity for a brief minute, sighs and frustrated lip biting taking up a good amount of time as Suguru attempts to collect the right words. “Suguru, I can’t help you if you don’t let me know what’s wrong.”

Suguru’s lips have paled intensely throughout the entire session and for a few moments, he even refuses to move a single limb, as if a singular action would tear down the walls he’s been building. Finally, after a patient ten minutes, Suguru licks his dry lips and lets the cat out of the bag once and for all.

“It was around two weeks ago,” he starts slowly with his gaze still locked on the carpeted floor. “I was called in for a photoshoot for Guerlain’s new cologne as their spokesperson but I was an idiot and forgot that (Y/N)’s parents work for its parent company. I ran into them on the way to the studio and they told me that (Y/N) transferred jobs and now worked for the marketing team and they said I should drop by but I thought I shouldn’t.”

Father Solomon furrows his brows. “Why didn’t you learn that (Y/N) moved jobs earlier? I figured you two would always keep in contact with each other.”

Suguru grips the knees of his pants, anxious to tell the truth. Should he really be telling Father Solomon the context of what’s been happening for the past four years and why your relationship with him has disintegrated to dust? Outcomes of all sorts plague his head.

“When I moved out after I had collected enough money to buy myself an apartment, we did promise that we’d call each other every night and sure, it worked for the first couple of months,” he swallowed, “then I started getting busier and busier and by the time I would sometimes come home at night, I’m sure she was asleep by then. Don’t get me wrong,” Suguru looked up and expressed on his face true genuity that told Father Solomon what he was about to say was the full truth. “I really tried my best to make time for her but even then, our talks would be less than five minutes and they got awkward quickly.”

The half lie, half truth made Suguru’s shoulders tense suddenly. He could never confess to the Father that the real truth was that you both had cut off contact more than two years ago, when his career was quickly climbing to the top, mostly the work of the strict limitations of who Suguru could contact as a newbie to the entertainment industry—they couldn’t have their fresh, ripened fruit be spoiled so swiftly. Guilt seeped into his thoughts like oil to water, however, when Suguru remembered that even though his restrictions lessened and his freedom to do whatever he wanted began to build up, he still failed to come in contact with you. Now, the regrets of spending a free weekend in sunny Santorini instead of knocking on your loft door and relaxing with you and Miso are forever embedded within him.

“At least you tried your best,” Father Solomon comforts, not noticing the tight swallow that passes through his pupil’s throat. “But even so, I’m sure that (Y/N) would be more tense around you than angry. What happened back at the photoshoot?”

The images of the faceless, grubby-handed monkeys surface his mind, making Suguru pull a face as he remembers them shouting questions and blinding him with flashing cameras the moment he would let his guard down. Tensing, a cold sweat runs down his back before he shoots another lie again, again not having the heart to tell innocent Father Solomon the ugly truth.

“I did run into her after the shoot and instead of saying hi, I just ignored her like I ignored everyone else,” he mutters.

Adjusting his glasses to look at Suguru a little more clearly, Father Solomon leans back in his chair thoughtfully, debating what exactly to do or say in Suguru’s situation.

“I suppose you could just simply apologize,” he shrugs.

“It’s really not that easy,” Suguru replies, “You saw her face. She was livid when she saw me.”

The priest couldn’t deny that. Your countenance has displayed a vast mixture of all types of anguish when you had seen his car pull up and he figured that you wouldn’t be forgiving him so effortlessly with a simple, two word apology that was most likely half-assed at the same time.

Suguru watches as Father Solomon thinks deeply for a prolonged period of time before giving another dragged breath and getting up. “I’ll be right back, just give me a moment.”

Father Solomon goes to exit the office, leaving Suguru with him and only his thoughts to accompany him. As he sits in silence with only the flicker of a fake fireplace hissing away, he contemplates about the truth of the situation that took place a narrow two weeks ago, the reunion that took place at the wrong place, wrong time.

They’re everywhere. They contaminate everything they touch… they’re absolute germs, every single one of them.

Suguru kept his head ducked down, hidden under the hood of his black trenchcoat with his face half-veiled by the sunglasses. The bodyguards created a mobile fence around him, yelling at the paparazzi to lower down their cameras and to not invade his personal space. It was only a minute walk from the parking lot of the building to its entrance, why did it seem like a hundred-mile journey. He should’ve known that the pests were waiting for him—ready with their many blinding cameras, jeering looks, and invasive questions that would penetrate his shield of protection if his temper wasn’t leveled enough. The wireless headphones in his ears were blasting music at the loudest level, yet he could still hear their shouting overhead despite him jamming the “volume up” button with his now-sore thumb.

Finally, they managed to reach the entrance of LVMH’s building, where another group of specialists were waiting for him just like the paparazzi. Something about their phony smiles and that eerie glint in their eyes made Suguru uneasy.

“Welcome Mr. Geto,” replied one of the women, “Our company is so thrilled to have our first photoshoot with you. They’re just finishing up setting up the studio.”

Great, after a cascade of white hurdling at his eyes, he has to be temporarily blinded for another two hours with more, larger cameras. Suguru stayed quiet, letting his manager do all the talking.

“Thank you for having us,” Satoru said coolly. “Is there a room where Mr. Geto can perhaps freshen up beforehand? It’s been a rather long journey.”

“Of course,” the leader of the photoshoot team nodded and gestured for them to follow her. “We have a specialized dressing room for you that has food at the ready, if you’re hungry.”

Suguru went ahead to explore and take a breather for himself, roaming around the building the remaining twenty minutes before the session began and telling Satoru to go ahead and that he’d meet him later. Satoru noticed the weariness under his eyes, perhaps from the many consistent hopping between activities like the movie soundtrack planning and the press conferences Sony Music was featured in.

The building was somewhat desolate and empty, with only a few mindless employees wandering around and too preoccupied with their clipboards to be paying attention to a charting artist roaming the halls. Somehow, a familiar person’s voice from behind the corner made Suguru’s ears perk up as they conversed with a stranger. Creeping slowly on the toes of his shoes, he managed to shadow the marble corner and see someone’s back to him with the other man’s face showing a gentle visage, occasionally nodding to their words before the man spotted him and widened his eyes. Suguru failed to react on time, considering how the man kept his gaze locked onto him while excusing his conversation with his colleague.

“Dad,” Suguru croaked out weakly, not even having the effort to put a fake smile on his face.

Your father’s countenance was unreadable for the first few steps he took and for a moment, Suguru was genuinely afraid for his fate that would be sealed within the next few seconds. Did you tell your parents everything that happened between them? Did you unravel the truth and tell them that you two fell out completely and lost all contact with each other without warning? And if you did, did they realize this gaping distance between you and him was tearing him apart as well but he was too much of a coward to face it head on?

You were their precious daughter. It was only natural for fathers to be overprotective over their daughters, especially, knowing the cruelties of men in this world since they came from the same kin. If they learned the little boy that had supposedly grown up with their child had caused harm to her, if he did so, he feared his fate that could come out as a variety of outcomes ranging from forcing him to never contact you again (not like he ever did so, anyway) to threats of harm if he ever came near you again. It didn’t matter if they treated him like a son, it didn’t matter if he was your best friend, a parent’s child always comes first.

He didn’t need to have parents of his own to realize this truth.

Somehow, every single one of his nerve-wracking anticipations came crashing down in relief when a gentle smile lifted on your father’s lips. Suguru could tell that it was one of those ignorant smiles, one that was blind to a bitter reality.

“Suguru,” Dad greeted quietly. “My, how you’ve grown.”

“How are you?” he rasped, returning the loose hug your Dad gave him, somehow finding comfort in his touch. Suguru had forgotten your parents had co-worked here together, hence the many beauty samples you and him received back when you were living together.

“I’m good, I’m good,” Dad chuckled, pulling back to admire Suguru’s matured figure. “I told you that you’d grow up to be handsome when you were older.”

Suguru bit his lip and let out a quiet laugh. “Thank you. Sorry, I didn’t mean to run into you, I should’ve said something beforehand.”

“Oh, don’t mind that. (Y/N) probably didn’t know either, she would’ve told us something, too. Besides, it’s not everyday someone has a celebrity in their contacts list,” At this, Suguru froze for a short moment. Something about his tone of voice and wording had somehow convinced Suguru that you were pretending to keep in contact with him. But why? Out of your own selfishness because you refused to let them know the breakage of your relationship or because you felt a need to protect him from your parents’ wrath despite it all? “You know, she’s almost done with the day. Text her to see if you can catch her before she leaves.”

Though short lived, the conversation somehow brought an ephemeral balance to Suguru’s mind. He waved a final goodbye to your father as he entered the elevator, seeing his comforting smile be closed out by the metal doors before he was pulled down to an unsettling reality.

As he made his way back to the dressing room, his trip back was unlike the trip from in which multiple people had stopped him mid-stroll and had asked—no, demanded for his autograph. The calm waves turned into hurdling tsunamis in a brief moment and Suguru found himself with pens getting jabbed into his hands and pieces of nonsense being thrown at him.

With no one to be a human barricade between him and this erupted mob, Suguru’s breaths quickened. Monkeys… their germy hands are all over me… I can’t breathe…

Backing away, Suguru broke out into a sprint and hurried through the labyrinth of marble halls and flooring, not even knowing where to go but just the goal to get out of there. Satoru finally caught him and yanked him by his collar by just barely catching Suguru as he almost whizzed by his dressing room, asking with concern where he had been before he noticed the look on the singer’s face.

A small glass of wine and sessions of deep breathing later, Suguru managed to begin the photoshoot with attempts to not cringe or stiffen whenever they would touch him. Something about a monkey’s touch seemed so acidic on his skin and the way the photographer just was never satisfied with any poses Suguru seemed to do seemed to irritate him to the edge. The flash the camera aimed at him mimicked too much of the paparazzi’s parade of cameras and Suguru’s eyes began to haze with specks of black halfway in.

His mind must’ve been playing tricks on him because Suguru swore he saw the figure of a familiar woman near the emergency exit of the studio, where she conversed with a woman that was in charge of his makeup. Ignoring the photographer’s words, he squinted ahead and thought he saw the hallucinatory figure of a you that had aged four years older looking straight at him with an unreadable expression, but when he blinked, the emergency exit was closed like it was before and the makeup artist was left alone.

By the time Satoru started to notice Suguru’s fatigue and how he would stiffen when the photographers would reposition his arm or leg, he called it a day and demanded the shoot be cut short. He was lucky he was tall and that his blue eyes were piercing enough to scare off the demanding photographer who pleaded for more takes.

All Suguru wanted to do was just rest for the day after being on his feet ever since the early morning. While packing his stuff up, he was once again mobbed by the many staff on the set, asking the weary noirette for a chance to take a picture with him or to sign a napkin for them or a relative. The charity work was fun at first, seeing how happy fans were after they received their wishes, but now, it just seemed invasive and ignorant considering how Suguru returned their words with a snapping silence.

It was worse when he exited the floor and returned to the lobby, where the same crowd of paparazzi was waiting oh so patiently for the singer to finish up his last task for the day. Gritting his teeth as the bodyguards began to box him in again, he once again blasted the inaudible music in his ears. All it took was a couple more steps and he could rest back at home with no one to invade his personal space.

At last, he managed to escape the mob of cameras and was at peace just before he opened the car door. However, his patience finally exploded when he felt a light tug on the back of his shirt and like a bomb, detonated into a firework of anger and disturbance.

“Don’t fucking touch me, you goddamn monkey!” he shouted while still turning on his heel.

The volume of his voice had startled him, but it startled him even more when he realized who he was losing his temper at.

Because here you were right in front of him, after four years of not seeing each other, holding his neatly folded trenchcoat in your hands with an alarmed look on your face that mimicked his.

He swore it was a hallucination back at the studio, but now seeing you in crystal clear vision, he could fully see that you really have blossomed four years older. Your hair was shorter than it was four years ago, and the makeup you put on yourself made you seem more mature than your peppier, energetic self. The stance that uplifted you made you seem more evolved and professional, as well as how it set all your fully developed curves into place that were enunciated by the tweed suit and skirt you wore. Suguru didn’t know if the breathlessness of his voice was made by how overwhelming your elegance was or how he had reacted to you without even turning around.

Your lips parted for a moment, but nothing came out. Suguru’s lips parroted yours in the same manner. Finally, he took a hesitant step forward but it only made you take a step back, mirroring his actions.

“(Y/N)—”

“I apologize for the inconvenience,” you interrupted softly, your gaze leaving his. “But you forgot your jacket… sir.”

The title you had granted to him instead of his name made him wallow in a sea of guilt. It was obvious you refused to acknowledge his actual name out of spite but Suguru thought he deserved nothing more.

Your hands finally grazed his when you put the jacket gently into his arms before taking your leave silently, leaving him stunned in his place with nothing but your name being your reply from him after four years.

As he tucks the photo album aside, Suguru pinches the bridge of nose as he recalls the memory from each segment. If he unraveled the full verity, what would Father Solomon think of him? If he told him what truly happened back at the building that you currently reside in, would Father Solomon, the soft-spoken, kind-hearted, understanding priest, be able to empathize with his situation even though it was rotten to the core? No, if anything, Father Solomon would most likely show a side of him that Suguru never knew existed in the first place, just like how you showed a foreign aloofness to him at the parking lot.

His inner contemplation is disrupted, though, when he hears two familiar voices muffled outside, talking amongst each other. He immediately gets when he realizes who the other voice was replying to Father Solomon is. He hears your laughter reverberate in the chapel for a minute, still clouded by the walls from the outside until the door handle twists and the door opens before he could take action to do something, anything.

But he freezes in place when the view of you and Father Solomon comes into his field of vision and it doesn’t take a genius as to why you had stopped laughing the moment you entered the room.

To seize yourself from the uncomfortable tension that now surfaced the room, you avoid his gaze and return it to Father Solomon with a weary smile, “Sorry, I just remembered that I need to—”

“Not so fast, (Y/N),” Father Solomon interjects, grabbing you by the shoulders before you could escape the office.

He turns you so that you face Suguru directly. He can see your eyes quickly dart all over the place, desperate to land for a spot that wasn’t him. Not even Suguru can let out a greeting or even a single sound but unlike your silence and avoiding gaze, he takes up the initiative to look at you fully.

“(Y/N), I’m sure you’ve met Suguru,” Father Solomon tells playfully but his attempts at jokes don’t go as planned considering how you stiffen and bring your crossed arms closer to you and how your pained eyes close and look to the side.

Suguru feels a terrible ache in his chest when you don’t bother to greet him, not even as a stranger but as a fragment of empty air—something that wasn’t within your reach and was deemed untouchable. For what sort of denseness did his body hold right now, he couldn’t tell considering he himself didn’t feel right in the current body he was in, as if he was some sort of apparition that had possessed the wrong body.

Father Solomon lets out a weary sigh at the silent treatment you stubbornly give him. Disapproving of how you’re pouting like a child, he sits you down and crouches down to face you as if he was giving a toddler a lecture.

“Whatever you two have going on,” he starts softly so his volume speaks to only you and him. “you both need to fix it.”

“Why should I?” you insist.

“Because I know that it isn’t healthy for you and him,” Father Solomon murmurs, “It’s normal for friends to fight, but what isn’t normal is to hold a grudge for a long time.”

You’ve always hated how he’s consistently right about everything. You’ve hated the way he spoke so gently with an angelic yet condescending tone, like if his requests were disguised as threats under a white mask with a halo perched over its head.

Suguru stands in the corner of the room, watching how Father Solomon talks ever so softly with you with caution, knowing that he doesn’t prefer yelling and shouting voices because it drives anyone away.

“Do you want some water?” he suggests to both of you, finally standing up. When he receives two quiet nods, he goes ahead and excuses himself, “I’ll fetch some water bottles for you both, I’ll be right back.”

Father Solomon ignores your pleading look to not leave you alone with Suguru, only responding with a head pat since he knows that gesture is constantly used to calm you down. Suguru doesn’t have the courage to face you as he makes eye contact with the corner of the room. The priest only gives a weary expression to the two individuals in the office before he leaves the room and pulls out a key.

You offer a single glance toward Suguru’s back before wheeling yourself a little farther from him on the chair, still highly uncomfortable to be around him. There’s an overwhelming urge to go with Father Solomon so you can retrieve the water bottle yourself then use it as a scapegoat to get out of here, but it all comes crashing down when you hear the lock turn.

Immediately, you and Suguru turn to the now vertical lock, indicating that it had been turned from the outside. At first, you think that maybe Father Solomon had accidentally jerked it upwards so you race to the door to let him know before he leaves the chapel.

“Father!” you call out, patting palms pressed against the door that could only be locked from the outside. “Father… the d-door.”

Suguru goes by your side and wrestles with the door handle, only to fail when it doesn’t move at his will. “I think you locked it by accident!” Suguru expresses.

“I’m sorry, but that wasn’t an accident,” the priest replies from the other side. It’s evident from the way his voice sounds so close he’s also up against the other side. “I’m not letting you two out until you talk things through.”

“You parent-trapped us?!” you exclaim hotly.

“It was the only way,” Father Solomon insists. “I’ll give you a half hour to talk to each other and if everything doesn’t recuperate by then, well…”

You gasp loudly. “Father, you wouldn’t!” you cry, “I have a child in the car!”

Suguru goes to widen drastically when he hears your last sentence.

Had he missed out on so much of your life during these past four years that he hadn’t heard that you had conceived? Apparently, it didn’t seem like you upheld your word back then about not having children considering how tearful you were when you replied to Father Solomon’s threat. But he would’ve heard at least the smallest thing, he figured, something on your social media that he can’t follow but instead wavers over occasionally, even if the majority of them were private, or even a rumor of a baby shower invite of some kind.

“Hiroto will be fine,” he replies coolly. His comfort obviously fails considering your cold sweat doesn’t lessen. “I’ll let you both out after thirty minutes but you two should really work things out with each other because you’re stressing everyone else out.”

With that, you hear his casual whistle of an Elton John song slowly begin to fade away along with his footsteps, leaving you and Suguru alone for the first time in four years.

TAGLIST: @sukiguru @yosanoaki @deadflowerd @gimyeongbestboymain @sidehub @jjstsksen @justanotherasiangirl @vngelis @notsostraightweeb @soyk1d @kristchxin @autumn-slaves @morningdangerheart @uzumakioden @dpr-staybifs @k1kuoo (want to be in the taglist? send a reply, ask, or message!)

AUTHOR NOTES: obv not a lot of y/n interaction in this one apologies ! i wanted to squeeze it in with this chapter because the next one is where the first spike of drama finally hits but i think this chapter was a good preview to suguru's current pov

PREVIOUS NEXT

How about baby fushiguro pulling out cursed weapons out of Mr. Weedle (toji's worm). Does he like teach her how to use them. I think it would make for a cute father-daughter bonding moment.

Before Toji had you, his worm was always filled with the most dangerous weapons. After you were born, there were a few instances where Toji had to strap you across his chest and fight curses at the same time. And when he almost accidentally put you inside of the worm instead of his katana, he knew he had to empty out his weapons and replace them with something less lethal, especially after he caught you trying to crawl into the worm's mouth.

So, you best belief that Mr Worm is now used as a baby bag, filled with diapers, bottles of milk, onesies, hair clips, pacifiers and obviously, your hello kitty stuffie. And for weapons, he usually keeps a knife and a gun in his pocket, although he usually is able to win battles with his bare hands.

Like, Toji is just fighting this little gang all by himself and his baby is strapped to his chest, eyes wide and sucking on a pacifier with some tunes playing on your headphones. You're just having the time of your life as Toji does somersaults and knocks out the baddies one by one, even using your baby powder as a smoke bomb and your dirty diaper as a... brown bomb? Whatever, it threw the guys off and thus, it was effective 😤

I do believe that when reader grows up a bit and begs Toji to teach her how to use some weapons too, he reluctantly helps her.

Uncle Naoya could never imagine being chased by his 5 year old brat of a niece, who's very skilled in throwing very sharp things (usually knifes or ninja stars) and is equally as good with nunchucks.

Either way, Toji is a very proud father. His baby is so smart and brave🥰🥰🥰

— Ran has been lying beneath you for nearly an hour now. He thinks he stopped listening to you about…15 minutes ago (give or take). The conversation was lost on him and it wasn’t intentional. If you asked him to repeat what you’d just said, he’d blame you and say it was your fault. It was all your fault he wasn’t paying attention, that he hadn’t a clue what’d you’d been going on about.

And if you asked him what he meant by that, he’d kiss you and pull you under him once more.

You had no idea what you did to him and to his aching heart — to the part of him that swore off love and longing, the part of him that wondered what it’d be like to melt into you and hide inside of you forever.

But he didn’t know how to tell you, to let you know exactly how he felt.

He’d had no prior experience with love and the two of you were treading a tightrope. You had walked five steps forward, and he hadn’t moved an inch, feet planted in place as he watched you. He’d convinced himself it would be best if he let you go. That’s what he had decided on. He’d close his eyes and let you get ahead of him — let you get far, far away from him, from the corruption and despair that followed him. But when he opened his eyes, he’d found that you were still standing there, right in front of him. There were two steps between the two of you, just enough to keep him comfortable, to not freak him out and scare him off. You’d extended a hand and he’d eyed you warily. The rope was long, with the end nowhere in sight. He didn’t know what that meant and it made him feel sick. The endless void scared him and he’d wanted to run away. But you stayed put, even as the rope shook a little, as it trembled beneath the weight of his turmoil. You’d stayed and once he began to lose his footing, he had gripped onto your wrist for dear life, following right behind you.

He hasn’t let go of you since.

He doesn’t think he wants to.

Ran doesn’t know how to tell you he loves you.

So he lays under you and listens — ​​he pretends to at least. He has one hand beneath the shirt you’d thrown on, cigarette between his lips, as he strokes your skin softly. His fingers trail lazily along your waist, squeezing your hip every so often. He liked lying beneath you like this, the hooked supine position making it easier for him to keep you close. You’re straddling him, hands spread out against his bare abdomen. You trace the expanse of his tattoo over and over again as you talk. He feels his breath hitch at the feeling but plays it off, watching you with hooded eyes as smoke fills the air around you. Your nose crinkles at the smell and he smiles.

You don’t notice how he’s looking at you, too focused on tracing the details adorning his skin. He takes this opportunity to eye your figure in his shirt, admiring the way you looked enveloped in it. You were so pretty. So pretty — it nearly drove him insane. But he thinks you look prettiest like this, seated on his hips in nothing but his shirt, with his arms within reach of you. He couldn’t possibly be expected to think of anything else when he had you pressed against him like this.

He doesn’t notice how you’re looking at him either, too focused on the marks he’d left on your collarbone, on the gentle rise and fall of your chest. You tilt your head, smiling at him softly. You knew he wasn’t listening, you’d known this nearly two minutes after he’d first zoned out. But you kept talking because you knew he wanted you to. He loved your voice, loved listening to you talk about anything and everything. It was why he called you whenever he could, why he let you scold and yell at him when he went astray, why he let you get away with so much, and why he let you win more arguments than he should’ve.

He adored you, there was no doubt about it.

You drum your fingers against his chest lightly, finally garnering his full attention, pretending to glare at him as his eyes finally flit up to yours.

“Are you listening?”

He grins lazily, cigarette threatening to fall out of his mouth. He decides to put it out.

“Sorry, what was that?”

You shake your head, smiling.

“Nothing important.”

He frowns and pinches your thigh.

"Tell me. I'm sorry, I just zoned out."

“For fifteen minutes?”

His eyes widen and you laugh at his reaction, reassuring him that it really was nothing. You couldn’t recall what you’d been going on about either. You lean back against his knees, stretching your legs out. The late hour of the night was starting to get to you, sleep coating your every thought. You’re interrupted mid yawn as he turns his head and bites at your toe.

“What is wrong with you?”

He laughs as you try to pull your feet away, laughing harder when you nearly fall off the bed trying to get away from him entirely.

“Let go of me, pervert.”

He grins. “Don’t act like you aren’t into it.”

You’re about to speak up to defend yourself against his false accusations when he presses a kiss to your ankle, eyes never leaving yours. Your heart swells. You want to hold him close.

He lets you go and sits up against the headboard. He keeps one hand on your waist, holding you steady, as the other brushes a strand of hair out of your face. The position brings you two closer— much, much closer. You drape your arms around his neck lazily and a sense of comfort washes over you as his warmth seeps against you.

He's about to tease you…about to say something sly, something that'll cause you to roll your eyes at him and make him laugh at your reaction once more. He goes to speak, but stills as you place your hands on his cheeks first. You press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose, then another to his chin. You kiss the corner of his mouth before trailing a finger against his jaw, angling his lips to yours. You kiss him softly, gently, before you pull back with a sigh. Pink dusts his cheeks, his skin heating up at the small gesture. He looked ridiculous right now, he was sure of it. Ridiculous and in love. So in love. He'd had you in several positions tonight, molded his body against yours over and over, so for an innocent kiss like this to be what had embarrassed him...it was ridiculous. There’s a lovestruck expression on his face and he hopes you don’t call him out on it.

But you were too tired to notice, rubbing at your eyes as you placed your head against his chest.

“Can we go to bed now?”

“Babe.”

“Yeah?”

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. You feel him beneath you and straighten, eyes wide as you stare at him.

“No.”

“No?!”

“Yes, No. Go deal with it yourself. What the hell is wrong with you? It's four in the morning. Are you popping viagra behind my back?”

His shoulders shake with laughter as you scold him. You climb out of his lap, rambling to yourself some more, in disbelief that he still had the energy to go yet another round. He watches you shuffle around the room, going into the closet before you come out with a blanket and pillow.

He looks at you in confusion.

“What’s that for?”

“You’re sleeping in the guest room until you learn to control yourself.”

“Absolutely not. I pay the bills around here.”

The two of you glare at each other, but Ran finds that he has to resist the urge to laugh even harder. He shouldn’t tire you out like this, shouldn’t give you a hard time either, but the lack of sleep always made you snarkier and your attitude made his chest feel tighter.

“Listen, I'm fine now. We can go to bed.”

You should be happy with that answer, satisfied and content that you would finally get the sleep you’d been yearning for…except your brows furrow and none of that satisfaction crosses your face whatsoever. He looks at you, confused.

“Are you saying I turned you off?”

He gapes at you in disbelief. Four a.m. brought out a side to you that gave him whiplash. And he was so in love.

You huff, gripping the pillow and blanket against you tighter.

“Fine. I’ll go sleep in the guest bedroom, since I don’t pay any bills around here.”

“This woman…I swear.”

He doesn’t want to laugh, he really doesn’t. But as you walk out of the bedroom, frown on your face, he can’t hold it in anymore. He lets it out because he loves you. He loves you. He’s in love with you. You hear him get out of bed behind you, so you start walking faster, cursing his apartment’s layout. Why was the guest bedroom so far away? What’d he need all this space for anyway?

“Stupid rich people,” you mutter.

You don’t notice the blanket dragging against the floor, don’t realize that you’re about to trip on it. But Ran does. He'd noticed when he first walked out after you, treading behind you from a distance, finding amusement in your utterances. It didn’t seem to pose a problem at first, you’d be alright if you fell where you were currently at. Except you keep walking distractedly. He takes note of your surroundings and panic fills his bloodstream as realization dawns on him. The blanket was twisting against your leg and there was a glass table you’d fall into face-first if you didn’t catch yourself. He pictures the worst possible outcome and rushes to you, long limbs reaching you almost instantly.

“Gotcha.”

He grabs your waist before you can fall, holding you up against him.

“What’re you — ? Oh.” Your line of sight falls onto the table, then to your leg, and your heart races as you realize what could’ve happened. You hadn’t noticed. At all. He feels you tremble at the thought and holds you tighter.

“You’re okay.”

You nod and turn to face him, reaching for his neck as he lifts you bridal style in his arms. You seem to have forgotten what you were upset with him for, holding onto him tighter instead. He kisses your forehead and sighs.

“Alright, boss. Which direction?”

“Hm?”

“Where am I taking you? Our bedroom or that one?” He nods in the direction of the room a few feet away. He rolls his eyes at your lack of a response and looks down at you in his arms.

“Oi, I can’t hold you up all night. Hurry it up.”

But your eyes are wide as you look at him and he wonders what it is this time.

“Our bedroom?”

“That’s what I said. What’re you questioning me for?”

Our. You and him, the two of you. His and yours. That’s what he had said.

“I don’t live here, silly. It’s just yours.”

You hide your face under his chin, too embarrassed by your reaction at that one word. It had to have been an accident, a slip of the tongue.

Your voice comes out in a whisper.

“Let’s go back to your room.”

He’s quiet as he clears his throat, heading towards the bedroom with you in his arms. Neither one of you says anything else.

Just his bedroom? Only his? You’d been spending so much time in his apartment, it didn’t occur to him that that’s what you were thinking. He didn’t like what that implied. Did you not feel like you had a place with him here? What was the point of any of it if it wasn’t for you? He wonders how serious you think he is about you and worries that you don’t think he’s serious at all.

You peek up at him as he kicks the door open, confused at the expression on his face. He looked upset.

You don’t know why.

He sets you down and turns off the light. He gives you a tight lipped smile as he bids you goodnight, before he turns around with his back facing you.

You sit staring at him in the darkness, stunned at his sudden change in behavior. You don’t know what you’d done and you didn’t know what to do. You wanted to sleep, you wanted to so badly. You were so tired. But he was upset with you, and you didn’t know why.

You should probably just leave him alone. Let him sleep it off. He was probably tired too. But the late hours of the night also brought the need to overthink with them. So you think and you think, until you can’t help but reach over to him.

“Ran?” You whisper, so as to not disturb the still air around you. You don’t think he’s asleep yet.

He doesn’t reply.

“Are you mad at me?”

No response. You can’t see his face but he furrows his brows at your question. He doesn’t know why you would think that. He was irritated, sure. But not with you. Never with you.

“Is it because I didn’t want to have sex again? Do you wanna go now? I can- I can go. Just don’t be mad.”

His eyes widen and he turns around, sitting up to look at you. That’s what you thought this was about? Your expression breaks his heart and he hated himself for being the cause of it.

“I’m sorry, baby. I can go now, really. I promise.” Your eyes are wet as you look up at him. You can try to hide it all you want but the desperation and fatigue crossing your face were apparent to him.

“What…? Hell, no. No, baby. I’m not mad at you.”

He reaches for you and holds you tight against him. You press your cheek against the skin of his shoulder, trying your best to hide your tears.

You always cried a little more when you were tired. You despised that about yourself.

Your words are muffled by his skin as you speak. “Please tell me if I did something. I wanna fix it.”

“No. No, you didn’t do anything. You did nothing.”

He strokes your hair and holds you tighter, if at all possible.

“Why’d you turn your back on me, then?”

Your voice cracks and you start to cry, wiping at your eyes. He pulls back and looks at you in shock. He knew you got sensitive when you were tired, he’d witnessed it happen a couple times himself. There was the time you broke a heel after a long night out and had cried because he had been the one to buy you the shoes. There was also the time your flight had been delayed by a few hours and you’d ended up crying as you watched families reunite. But he knew how to handle those, knew to just give you a shoulder to cry on and let it pass. He wasn’t sure how to handle it when he was the reason for your tears of heightened sensitivity.

You hiccup and wipe at your face. He sighs and lays back down, facing you this time, as he pats the space beside him.

You settle down next to him but you still won’t look at him, still trying to steady your breathing.

He strokes your arm as he kisses your hairline in an attempt to soothe you.

It seems to work.

But your face is still hidden. He tries to pry your hands away but you refuse.

“Don’t look at me. I look disgusting right now.”

“I love you.”

“What?”

You create a space between your fingers to look at him, eyes wide in disbelief. He hums in response.

“Hm?”

“What’d you just say?”

“Let me see your face.”

“That’s not what you said.”

He rolls his eyes.

“Yeah I know, smartass. Let me see your face first.”

Your hands are off your face immediately as you blink up at him. Your eyes sparkle. He gives you a lazy smile as he wipes at your eyes.

“So beautiful.”

“Ran —“

“I know. Just give me a minute.”

You nod as he strokes your jaw. He hasn’t made eye contact with you yet, hasn’t been able to. He didn’t mean to just drop it on you like that, didn’t even know he had it in him to be able to do that. He chuckles and shakes his head.

“What are you doing to me?” His voice is low and your heart flutters at the question.

He doesn’t give you a chance to reply, pressing his lips to yours desperately instead. He pours out everything he’s ever felt for you and everything he continues to feel for you into the kiss. He bites at your bottom lip gently and you drag a hand up to his hair as he does so. Lavender stains your fingers and he kisses you harder when you tug, groaning into your mouth at the feeling.

He pulls back, satisfaction running through his veins at how hot your skin feels beneath his fingers, how flustered you looked by him. You press yourself against him even closer and he raises an eyebrow at you slightly.

“Are you really not gonna say it again?”

He laughs.

“In due time, baby. Go to bed.”

You nod, fully aware that you needed to give him time. He’d need both space and time to open up to you more and more. He hadn’t changed much, hadn’t gone soft on the world or his job. But you’d already drawn more out of him than anyone else has ever been able to, making a home for yourself in his heart. He couldn’t resist you. Ran was a difficult man, with a difficult past and a difficult present. A difficult future is all that could be guaranteed for the two of you. He watches as your breathing steadies and you’re finally dragged into a deep sleep, tracing your features with his finger softly. He shakes his head in disbelief at you. He could barely recognize himself around you sometimes. And he dreaded the times when he recognized too much of himself, worried it’d scare you off. But you loved him just as he loved you, telling him you’d endure it all regardless. If he pushed, you’d shove. And if he pulled, you pulled right back. It was a dynamic that seemed to work and he would hold onto it till you pried his fingers off of you yourself. He prays you never do.

He’s about to doze off himself when he’s suddenly reminded of what started this ordeal in the first place.

He brushes his lips against your forehead and whispers against your skin, eyes shut as he gets comfortable against you.

“Move in.”

There’s an air of content as he wraps his limbs against you.

You’d give him a response in due time.

──────────────────

a/n: @kokonoihell I come once more having very little knowledge of Inui but man do your pussy!Boi thirsts for him make me feel some kinda way. So I hope you don't mind I had to write something for your thirsts! ♡ cw: fem!Reader, pussy boy!Inui, virgin!Inui, one (1) slap, fantasy curse bullshit, guided masturbation, corruption kink (ish), vaginal fingering, oral (giving), clit referred to as a dick a few times, hinted overstim, smut, unedited word count: 2.3k ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ/ᴀɢᴇʟᴇꜱꜱ/ʙʟᴀɴᴋ ʙʟᴏɢꜱ ᴅɴɪ | ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢꜱ ᴀᴘᴘᴇʀᴄɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ! ──────────────────

"I don't know what to do- How did this even happen?! I can't go around like this- W-What if Koko finds out- What if-"

And that was enough of that. When your hand made contact with Inui's cheek was the moment his ramblings came to a stop. He could be vulnerable with you. But hysterical wasn't going to fix anything.

"Seishu please-" You quickly back tracked the slap to his cheek with the same hand cupping his face and making him look at you, "I can help you. Isn't that why you came to me in the first place?"

His face returned to almost placid. Given the circumstance. He just didn't know what to do and in the moment it became just a little too much for the gang member.

Inui nodded slowly as he leaned into your touch with green eyes cast elsewhere, "...you were the only one who I could think to ask."

"You mean the only one with a vagina you know." You tried to correct him and lighten the mood. It obviously was not working as Inui refused to meet your gaze at such a comment. He was still one of your closest friends so regardless you knew you needed to help, "Alright...ok, this is fine. How about we just start by...showing me I guess?"

What you were expecting to see and what Inui told you about some curse just seemed impossible. How could something like this happen and surely this was just a prank to test loyalty or something. Your mind raced to a thousand different conclusions about this 'joke' being just that. Even as Inui slowly stepped back to shed the layers of his uniform.

Expecting something, anything that might have meant this curse thing was a joke. You were not graced with such an outcome. When Inui spoke of having a pussy. The stoic man simply was not lying to you. And that you should have known the second he came to you.

"Wow..." You felt it slip past your tongue before even realizing it, "Wait- I don't mean that as in bad but like- Wow you weren't lying."

Where you expected to see his cock rest in his panties. Inui hadn't lied about this seemingly made up curse. The blond man pulled aside his silken panties to reveal the glistening juices running up and down his slit. Soaked like he'd been touching himself even though Inui swore he was too scared to touch it in case something happened. He stood in his heels, panties pulled aside and his cunt lips puffy and begging right before your eyes.

"...it said something about exhaust your energy, return to normal but..." Inui shifted sheepishly as you drew closer to between his legs, "...I don't want to touch it."

"Don't want to-?" Your eyes tore away from his crotch for a second and looked at him, "Seishu haven't you hooked up with a girl just do that and-"

The somber shake to his head meant more than his words could convey. Then it hit you.

"...you're still a virgin aren't you?" You spoke softly with very little intent of mocking him. Simply wanting to know if your assumption was true.

Inui was quiet for a moment. Knuckles turning a little white when he gripped his panties tighter but finally nodded to your inquiry, "...Yes. And I didn't trust anyone else with that knowledge outside my closest friends..."

Presented in front of you was a once in a life time chance. One of your closest friends offering you up not only their virginity. But as well as the intent to keep this secret of such a curse as long as you helped him. Perhaps it was the way his cunt begged for your tongue. Or the dry spell you were having. Or even the fact that like this Inui seemed like such a delicate flower craving to be picked. Whatever the reason maybe. You wanted nothing more than to help him.

"I'll help you." You smiled sweetly at him, "I'll show you how to touch yourself and get rid of this icky curse together~"

Swallowing the lump in his throat. Inui knew there was no one better than you to do this for him.

──────────────────

"To start off, do you want to see mine?"

A simple question. But it was the only way you could think to put him at ease as Inui laid back among your pillows.

"I can name everything. Make it a little less weird?"

Inui had fallen silent after the agreement was made. Stripped of his clothes. And you of yours. On your bed that he'd only fantasized about being on but not in this state. As you knelt above him in only your panties. He managed an embarrassed nod paired with a, "Please."

"It's not all that scary," You chirp in the best mood you could manage. Pulling your own waistband down to reveal your wet spot that had stained your panties and the rest of your juices slick over your cunt lips, "See, those are just your labias." Your finger dipped between your puffy slit. Stirring around your own juices before spreading your fingers like a v to reveal more, "Um, chicks have urethras too, obviously. My vagina and of course the most important part." Your finger moved up to flick the half hard little bean sitting a top your cunt, "The clit. You'll never want to forget about this."

For a first hand account. Inui was engrossed in watching you toy with yourself. No idea if he'd ever even encountered that much porn. The way his eyes were glued to you might have tipped you off that he sheltered most of his needs. Stirring a pride and craving in you as you moved closer to him.

"So...may I show you?" You hover above him. Refusing to touch without consent. Slightly fearful he might back out. Inui once more surprised you when he shook his head. Indicating how much he wanted you to touch him.

Delicately taking his hand. Fingers encircling his wrist. You move Inui's hand down over his mound. With your help letting him press firmly against his pussy for the first time ever. It drew out a moan and a gasp from the blond man. He shimmied his hips and already you could see the blush creeping up on his cheeks as he palmed himself.

"You like that?"

"Y-Yes."

"Good." You smiled gently. Enjoying the sight of him loosening up, "Try this then."

You ushered him to split his fingers in two. Like you had done when showing him your own parts. This time to let his fingers glide down on either side of his clit. And moving his touch up and down the sensitive little bud with light pressure.

"See. It's similar to stroking yourself." You whisper softly as you set the rhythm in which Inui rubbed his clit.

"S-Shit-" His back arched up and his legs shuddered a little, "I-It's so much more-"

"Oh." You chuckled softly while swirling your finger around the tip of his clit as his two fingers continued to stroke along the sides, "I forgot to add, clits are way more sensitive than dicks."

Sensitive was an understatement. For as many times as he'd jerked off. The way his stomach tightened when your fingertip grazed his clit along with his own fingers. Inui had never came so quickly in his life. Feeling the unfamiliar flutter of his cunt walls around nothing. And his new found clit throb against the fingers stroking it right through the leg shaking orgasm.

"Heh," You drew your finger away from his folds smiling to see it glossy and soaked, "You came kind of fast."

Breathless Inui looked down still seeing his pretty puffy and pink cunt lips between his legs, "W-What- It said if I exhaust it then it'll go away but-"

Dipping your finger back between his folds. Gliding along his clit and inching down towards his entrance. You giggle as Inui fists the sheets under the both of you staggering his own moans, "I think you have more in here. I can help with that."

"But my clit I already-"

"There's more to an orgasm than just that Seishu jeesh," You smirk at his lack of knowledge of such simple things, "Maybe this is a blessing in disguise since you don't know much about these parts. So let me show you what feels good..."

An eye opening blossom of pleasure that wracked his body the second you slipped only a knuckles worth of your finger into his quivering cunt. You felt his walls flutter around you as you slowly sunk your finger all the way down into him. Inui's new found pussy milking your single finger like it was the end of the world.

"Heh, you're tight." You murmured when you swiped your finger around to find his sweet spot, "Just like a real virgin."

Angled up against his bladder. It was no surprise such a place is what drew out the loudest moan from him. Inui choked on his moans when the squelch of his juices filled the tiny space between you. Running your finger along his delicate insides until he was panting and writhing under you.

"Aww do you need another finger?" basking in his neediness. You could feel how wet you were getting but at this moment in time it was all about Inui's needs. So when he nodded feverishly unable to form words. That's when you couldn't help but spoil the newbie.

Slipping another finger inside him. Soaked already from the slick leaking from him. His tight walls trembled around your digits and you pushed up against his bladder to see his beautiful green eyes pop open before rolling to the back of his head. Inui's hips having a mind of their own as they bucked and grinding to your motions. Fucking himself on your fingers as you plunged them knuckles deep into him.

"Look at you. You haven't even had a pussy for a day and you're already such a slut." You cooed sweetly as sweat beaded along his hair line and you reached up to push his stray blondes away from his beautiful face, "I've never seen you enjoy yourself so much Seishu. It'd be a shame to loose this pretty pretty pussy you have."

"F-Fuck-" He huffed and whined. Coming undone at the seams as you fingering him without letting up, "It- It won't go! Why does it feel- Feel so good but-"

"Aww looks like you like your clit played with." You swirl your fingers inside him. Feeling the gush of creamy juices flow over your knuckles and look down at his swollen clit seeming to have grown in size even since the last time he came, "It's a wonder. You have such a big clit begging to be sucked on like a cock..."

"Please-" Inui gasped, "Please suck on it- Please make it go-"

Fraying at the seams was such a beautiful look on the man. With fingers pressing deep into his tightening walls. You leaned down to grant his wish. Lips ghosting over his enlarged clit. Making him shudder and moan incoherent thoughts and you hadn't even tasted him yet.

"Mmm you want me to suck your clit Seishu? Suck it like it's your dick until you cream all over my fingers?"

A muffled noise from above.

"What was that?" You coo, dragging out touching his throbbing clit until you hear him ask for it, breath tickling it as Inui rutted and bucked against your touch like it would make it better, "I can't hear you Seishu I wanna hear-"

"Yes! Please suck on my clit! Do something-"

Grinning it was all the permission you needed. Lips taking him in all at once. Fingers deep in his velvety walls. You sucked at his clit as your tongue washed over the sensitive bud. It really wasn't much of a bud though anymore. Seeming to have grown since his orgasm. You wondered if this was part of the curse undoing itself. But as your tongue ravished his clit and Inui tightened around your fingers. All you could really care about was drinking up more of his delicious juices as you sucked him off.

Inui's poor abused clit between your lips. Swollen like the tip of a real cock. You could feel his walls tremble around your fingers when you bobbed your head up and down. Knowing he'd never even gotten his dick sucked. And now you were nursing at his new found clit like you expected to get something out of it. All while your fingers stirred up his insides and caused Inui to crack under it all.

" 'm cumming!" He all but rushed head first into his first ever vaginal orgasm. Cunt tightening around your fingers even with the disgusting squelch of his juices drooling around your fingers. His clit swelling and throbbing against your tongue and between your lips. Making your moan and encourage him to ride out his orgasm as you pumped your fingers into him and felt Inui's clit twitching in your mouth.

As his high subsided. And his walls remained trembling around your fingers. Slowly you pulled your lips off of his clit. Smiling with his juices smeared on your lips and reaching down with your one free hand to pinch his sensitive bud between your thumb and forefinger. Pulling it back like an uncut cock and smiling sweetly at Inui trembling under you.

"Look Seishu." You knew you weren't lying to yourself when his clit felt bigger in your mouth, "It's getting bigger. That must mean it's working."

Soaked in his own juices. Creaming around your fingers and gasping for a steady breath. Inui seemed all but spent under you. And yet his cock hadn't returned yet.

And as you stroked his clit like a tiny little cock. Pulling your fingers from his cunt and wiping his own juices against his pale thigh. You smiled and leaned into him as you presented your lips covered in his own musk against his own, "I'll just keep playing with you until it's as big as your cock was. So don't pass out on me ok vice captain?" ──────────────────

satosugu brain rot — f. scott. fitzgerald // hishaam siddiqi // atticus finch // mary renault, the charioteer // edna st. vincent millay // richard siken // love in five minutes // taylor jenkins reid

Tokyo Revengers Official Art, Ken Wakui.

Cursed Love: Ch 6 (Gojo x gn!reader)

“This is just a personal theory, but love is the most twisted curse of them all”-Gojo Satoru

CHAPTER 6- AFTER (DURING)

Chapter summary:

Ever since the Night of a Hundred Demons Parade, Satoru hasn’t been the same since he’s returned. The barrier that you’ve worked so hard to break down has resurfaced, and you don’t know what to do as the strain pulls you both further apart.

Series masterlist

Read the previous chapter!

Note:

Hey guys! Just want to let you know that this chapter gets very angsty and I’ve made a separate post regarding trigger warnings linked below. The trigger warnings involve major spoilers for this chapter and this is the best medium I can come up with for those who wished to not get spoiled via warnings.

Also, we're almost done, AHHHHHH! Thank you to all my readers, new and old. This was definitely way longer than I had initially planned, but it's been so much fun writing this.

I always appreciate feedback, so please feel free to tell me your thoughts :)

Content/Warnings: Major manga spoilers (vol. 0), arguments, gojo pushing the reader away, angst angst angst angst. very light explicit scene.

Click here for specific content warnings with spoilers.

Words: 12.4k words

0.

It’s been quiet.

The day after the battle, Gojo couldn’t celebrate Christmas unlike how he initially planned. Instead, he was called by Yaga to discuss casualties, collateral damages with non-sorcerers, and other important matters.

You told him that it’s alright, how there’s always next year. This unprecedented event stirred up the lives of many and Gojo was needed as he was the backbone of the entire victory. The one who put a stop to these rebel curse users by taking down their main leader.

His one and only.

He believed that they were going to celebrate, so he initially wasn’t going. But you reasoned that Yaga wasn’t thick-minded about Satoru’s feelings of having to kill his best friend and encouraged him to attend the meeting. You, Megumi, and Tsumiki will be waiting.

You were patient about how Gojo handled his mourning, but you weren’t used to his sudden change of demeanor. He became less touchy and you would have to approach him for a hug or a kiss. He comes home later than usual by a few hours or even a few days. His side of the bed is cold due to him not being there is the norm. Constant text messages have shortened to a single update per day, maybe even two if he was in a good mood.

Gojo has embedded himself into work and relays his apologies through souvenirs from his trips. You appreciated how thoughtful he still was, but no lavish gifts compare to actually spending time with the gifter. But hey, there’s nothing you can do since you’re dating the strongest and most reliable sorcerer.

But you’re still determined to keep the relationship up float, even though it feels like the other half hasn’t been reciprocating for a while.

“Baby, do you have anything to do tonight?” You ask a distant Satoru in the middle of January 2018. He meddles through his phone, sitting on the opposite side of the couch. This became a new, favorite position of his where he gets situated on the left side while you sit on the right. You dislike this separate barrier and you miss it when you’d cuddle up against each other, but boundaries are something that your partner needs right now. And you respect that.

“No,” he mumbles, tapping on the screen with his thumbs. A soft chuckle escapes his lips and you gaze at him with wide eyes.

That’s the first time you’ve heard him laugh in weeks and you wonder what was the source that made him chuckle. Slightly scooting over, you ask. “What are you laughing at?”

Satoru stares at you, the short-lasting smile wiped from his face. You freeze at the sudden coldness as he quickly presses on the power button.

“It’s nothing, baby.” He then changes the subject. “What were you asking about earlier?”

You shift your seat, planting an encouraging grin on your face. “Since you don’t have anything planned, let’s go out later! It’s Saturday and it’s been a while since we’ve done a date. I found a few places we can go to and…”

Your sentence falters as it has been interrupted by Satoru’s sigh of disapproval. Shaking his head, he reasons. “I don’t feel like going out. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a day off. I just want to stay home.”

“Oh… I see.” Your chin slightly raises, taking in what he just said. It is true, this is the first time he’s been home in a while and you’ve missed him terribly. Your face flusters in both hurt and embarrassment for not considering that Satoru may want to lay low. Should you be considered greedy if all you wanted was to spend time with your partner?

After all, it’s the best way to console him about what happened less than a month ago. No doubt about it, his wounds are still too deep and no matter how many times you try and bring it up, he’ll find a way to shut it down. So you figured that quality time is the grandest gift you can offer during this time of grievance. But even Satoru won’t even accept that gift.

“We can do something at home!” You push again. “Let’s bring Megumi and Tsumiki over for dinner. I can cook or we can have take out. We can also watch a movie! You can pick, even if it’s the really sucky and corny ones-”

“I’d rather not.” The sharpness of his blunt words intercepts your suggestion once more. “I would like to have some time to myself, please.”

This time, you don’t bother hiding the disappointment in your face, how your brows and lips deflate into a downward curve. Looking for an outlet to avoid awkwardness, you twist the promise ring on your finger, pursing your lips.

Silence emerges in the room, eating up your mental state. You’ve been trying for weeks to respect his space and not mention Suguru. His hour-long talks about his students had turned into simple phrases such as, “they’re doing good” or “they’re getting better.” You can’t help but allow the frustration of wanting to desperately be there for him and be turned down to build up.

As a symbolic gesture to throw in your white flag, you quietly get up from the couch and leave for the bedroom, not wanting to disrupt Satoru even more.

“Y/n-”

Slowly, you turn around to face a man who has his head hung low, his long, lanky fingers running through his soft white hair. Your fingers should be the ones combing through those strands in a gentle, comforting manner.

“What is it?”

“I know what you’re trying to do.” He looks up, revealing the bags underneath his crystal blue eyes. They don’t shine as bright anymore. “Thank you for trying, I appreciate it. And I’m sorry for being an ass lately, I really am.”

The crease between your brows flattens as you stare sympathetically at Satoru. For the first time, his eyes express longing and all of the pent-up frustration in your system has faded. You walk over until you sit next to him, leaving a foot-long gap. You don’t pounce on him or give him a dying bear hug, no.

Instead, you grab his right hand and massage his knuckles, allowing the coolness of his fingertips to grace your warm ones. The connection sends electricity down your spine as if you were transported back to a time where his touches were scarce and you silently craved for any sort of affection. Even though you hugged and kissed him this morning, it’s been so long since you’ve connected with your soulmate like this- where he is willing to give back.

“I’m well aware that you’re mourning, Satoru,” you say, carefully picking at your words as you head towards a delicate subject. “We all handle grief differently and if you want space, I’ll gladly give it to you. But I don’t want you to go through this alone. No one deserves to have their emotions caged in.”

It was a callback to the earliest points of your relationship. Two people keeping secrets and internal conflicts for the sake of the other. Except, you doubt that Satoru isolates himself for you this time. He was born with a gift that places a barrier between him and any single atom he pleases. Barriers are what he’s known for and what he knows for his entire life. It took you a long ass time to finally get one to crumble, so you’ll be damned if he ends up building another one.

Satoru blinks for a moment, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. It’s reassuring and blissful to feel his comforting touch. His eyes seem clouded by several thoughts, yet they appear empty at the same time. He lets go of your hand.

“I’ve been unfair to you lately, Y/n. My grieving process has caused me to neglect you,” the tone of his voice declines even more and his head turns away from your body in shame. Your heart thumps at the dreaded, possible words that may be formulated from his mouth. “Maybe… Maybe we should-”

“Satoru, shut up.”

His head sharply whips back to your direction, taken back by the command. But he obeys, reading the distraught and irritation across your face. You squint, grasping his hand again.

“Did you not hear what I just said?” Your voice lowers to a whisper. “I don’t want you to go through this alone.”

Like a plant, Satoru tended you during the past 2 and something years. He fertilized and watered many traits from you, allowing you to grow. But one attribute he seemed to have unintentionally harbored was stubbornness, courtesy of his own behavior as being the said fertilizer.

“Loud and clear,” he mumbles quietly and almost muffled. Not wanting to break the contact, your free hand hovers over Satoru’s face, but your fingers drawback, unsure whether to touch him or not. Holding his hand was one portion of the barrier down, but embracing another body part of his might cause it to crumble too soon.

You don’t know if it was your vision shaking, but you almost swore that Satoru was about to press his cheek against your palm. But instead, he remains there, unmoving. You take it as a signal that you shouldn’t go the extra mile and that hand holding is enough for now.

“You’re not going to get rid of me that easily. Through thick and thin, remember? Besides…” You show off the gold ring on your finger, glistening against the sunlight in all its glory. “You still owe me a proposal… Or I owe you one... Whoever does it first.”

Satoru’s shoulders bounce and a half-smile leaks through his lips. You relax as you’ve finally made your man smile.

“Right…”

The silence has gotten a little more comfortable, but you still think it’s best to take your leave. Giving his hand one more squeeze, you lift yourself off the couch, leaving the love of your life who is still lost in his own thoughts.

“Hey.” You successfully catch his attention. “We’re going to get through this together. And you know I love you, right?”

“Of course.”

“Good,” you flash your teeth at him, expecting a verbal reply back. But he just grinned a little wider.

1.

Even after the talk, the situation hasn’t changed. In fact, the strain between you and Satoru had developed even further. Two weeks later, you still find yourself sleeping next to an empty bed, your partner not returning your simple embraces and other suggested advances. Furthermore, when Satoru is (rarely) at home, his outlet of entertainment would be spent on his phone, merrily tapping away on his screen. That would be the only time where he would laugh casually.

At first, his actions raised suspicion out of you. After all, that’s what your ex-boyfriend of two years from the past did. You were gullible and surpassed moments of him flaunting obvious red flags like hiding his phone when you were around, coming home late at night, empty-handed with no souvenirs, the physical evidence of leaving for a mission or no longer acknowledging you. But then again, you found this comparison stupid.

Your trust in Satoru is billions of light-years further than that douchebag. If anything, Satoru is way out of your league, considering his status, he could’ve left you without even trying. And even though the bond between you has faltered, he hasn’t done anything remotely suspicious. Actually, he would leave his phone open, buzzing with notifications whenever he would step out as if he wanted you to read the messages. And as you have expressed many times to him, you don’t care about trinkets as long as he’s the one coming home to you.

But, you still respected his space, privacy included. The bond of trust was something that both you and Satoru had to mutually build together. And as much of a pushover that he is sometimes, your beloved partner knows that there is a thin line that he can’t ever cross. You crossed your whole heart that he’d never twist the faith you’ve given him.

Assumptions (or lack of) aside, you can’t help but contemplate how Satoru is at work. According to Nanami and Ieiri, your partner has quite a reputation when it comes to his daily shenanigans with (or towards) his students and other members of the high school. Maybe he toned down his playful side after the stir of recent events.

Curiously, you decided to ask Nanami about it when you go out to run errands with him a week later.

-----

“What?” The blond adjusts his tie as he is about to dig in for lunch.

“Has Satoru been acting any differently ever since the 24th of December?” You repeat, wondering if the loud atmosphere inside the cafe drowns out the sound of your voice.

Temporarily, Nanami pauses and reflects on the event that happened a little over a month ago. You on the other hand sit opposite from him, sipping on your tea and waiting for his answer.

“Well, in the beginning, I suppose that Gojo had been fairly quiet.” He rubs his large, calloused hands together. “Only answering when he’s supposed to, barely cracking jokes or pulling pranks. Distant even... When it comes to serious topics or meetings, he would come on time and be diligent. In fact, it was like I’ve been talking to a different colleague for the past month.”

That’s the Satoru you’ve been dealing with at home. Isolated, kept matters to himself. You can’t help but wonder how this switch impacted his learning curriculum.

“If that was in the beginning, what about now?” You ask, taking a bite of your sandwich shortly after.

“Louder, more erratic, won’t leave you alone, the usual but ten times more. I’ve never thought that his childishness would ever exceed a greater level.” You can almost hear the cringeness in his voice. “I would say no offense, but at this point, you would understand where I’m coming from.”

Your chest stammers, mentally comparing the difference in Gojo’s personality outside and the one he shows at home.

‘Louder? More erratic?’

Surely, his outward, ‘usual’ display is nothing more than a facade of how he truly feels. Knowing the sorcerer, he has to maintain his high mighty image to bring strength to his peers and students. The harmatia of a man born with excessive hubris- to portray strength and arrogance even though he has the right to feel weak and vulnerable.

“Y/n?” Nanami’s voice echoes, snapping you out of your own thoughts. Shaking your head, you look up at him who in return, furrows a pair of concerned brows. “Are you alright?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, I’m fine.” Returning a smile, you continue to eat your sandwich, but the answer leaves Nanami unsatisfied.

“You are aware that you can tell me anything, right?” The blond obligates and sits back on his chair in a more relaxed position. His narrowed eyes bore into your own, a familiar, intimidating chill sneaks up your spine. “The way Gojo has been acting… Even though he acts strangely in general, the way he has been exerting himself is not normal.”

Good God, it’s surprising that this man’s cursed technique does not involve being able to read through people. This is just a separate gift of his own.

“People grieve differently,” you shrug. “Some people do it quietly, especially those who are like him. They can’t afford to show an ounce of weakness.”

“I know that. But what about you? How have you been holding up?”

You laugh nervously, your pointer finger directed at yourself. “Me? To be honest Kento, I should be asking you that. I’ve been cozy for a long while. And didn’t you fight a bunch of curses all at once with four of those crazy black flash thingys in a row? I heard from Satoru that it is very rare to do one, so good for you!”

But Nanami redirects the topic. “Thanks, but I’m asking about you. You live with Gojo and things have been heavy for him and I assume that you have to carry some of the baggage too.”

Your lips purse in a thin line, his weighted words drop on your shoulders causing you to slump. It has been difficult since the crazed, lovestruck man you were in a relationship with for more than a year and a half is nowhere to be seen. You try to talk it out after the recent confrontation, but previously said, Satoru either A) does not come home or B) diverts you.

And as much as you respect your lover’s space, it is frustrating, because you feel as if you’re stuck in quicksand, every move you make or even attempt causes you to sink down even further. The way Satoru segregates himself mocks you, knowing that you could’ve been there but aren’t. You tried to, but you failed in doing so.

“I suppose, but it’s been a big change for everyone.” You attempt to play off, but Nanami does not dismiss how your entire body slumps even further. “It’s barely over a month, so the wounds are still fresh for Satoru. But I have the patience, Kento. He and I will be together through thick and thin. We’ll manage.”

The grade one sorcerer realizes that no matter what he says, he can’t pry anything from you. Your mind is set on being a willing partner for Gojo, even though you look emotionally drained. But you’re probably too invested and concerned for your lover that you fail to realize the toll it mentally takes. Almost impulsively, Nanami opens his mouth to comment on your current state but reverts back to his original thought. You’re an adult and this is a relationship between you and Satoru. The former salaryman is aware that you’re wise about your choices, and he’ll respect those decisions. But even when he takes a step back, he can’t help but feel discontent.

“Very well,” he sighs, lacing his long fingers together. “Just know that whenever you need somebody to talk to, I will be there when I’m available.”

“That’d be a nice offer if you were actually available, Kento.” Smirking, your elbow rests on the table, knees bouncing playfully. But deep inside, you appreciate the efforts that Nanami has been trying to make. Even though he’s a generally reserved man, he’s not afraid to open up as a friend.

“I’m available right now.” He quirks a brow.

“Because for some reason, part of your job is to babysit me… And now you’re offering to be my potential therapist.” You mumble the last sentence only to hear a genuine chuckle from the opposing end.

“I suppose I can offer a 10% friend’s discount if that’ll make you sound more enthusiastic.”

“Geez dude, that’s the best you can offer? I’d rather pay full price and talk to you whenever.”

A lazy smile glues onto Nanami’s face, amping the wholehearted environment even further. “As much as I appreciate you as a friend Y/n, you know how I refuse to go overtime.”

In defeat, you slowly bend down and bang your forehead against the wooden table.

2.

Gojo has been acting colder and colder as the winter winds strengthen in Tokyo’s atmosphere.

Even though you told Nanami that you were going to be patient weeks ago, you can’t help but feel frustrated. Patience is a virtue, but also a trait that is slowly wearing thin over time. Included with the rising tensions at home, raised voices of disagreement have become the new ritual.

“Satoru, I swear that you’re not listening to me.” Your hands grip the roots of your hair, groaning at how non-compliant your partner is being.

Annoyingly, Satoru looks up from the edge of the bed with a scowl planted on his face. His thumbs still hover over that stupid phone screen. “I am.”

“Then why aren’t you replying to me?”

“I said that you can do whatever!”

“That’s not a proper answer.”

“Then what the hell do you want me to say?”

“Give me a yes or no, Satoru!” Your voice raises out of sheer frustration. “It’s been a while since you and I went on a date and I appreciate it if you make an actual decision instead of having me pick for you like always.”

But the white-haired Satoru reciprocates the same irritated energy and rolls his eyes. “Yes, sure! Let’s go on this stupid date, whatever.” He repeats the same word with a familiar sense of nuance in his tone. Hoping that his answer is satisfactory, the sorcerer gruffs loudly and returns to his initial gesture, the clicking sounds of the phone’s keyboard pings sharply in the air.

Very rarely does a fight ever break out in this relationship. Sure, there’s miscommunication on a lot of things where Satoru might say this, or you might do that and the other will look at it from a connotative perspective. But usually, 98% of those said “fights” are resolved quickly as the person at fault would quickly apologize and admit their mistakes. And these fights would occur for a good reason, not because of pettiness or simple moments of aggravation.

And now, any interaction you two would initiate is nothing but arguments. Nothing but negative energy filling this home. If a curse can be birthed with you and Satoru’s constant bickering as the creator, then thank God that Gojo’s massive curse energy cannot produce a special grade, nagging creature.

Your face scrunches at the way he addresses his answer, chest sinking down all the way to your stomach. You’re trying so hard to be there for Satoru as best as you can. But every effort you have given so far has been shut down, every advancement you made has been shunned. And now, offering to spend some quality time with your boyfriend appears to be some kind of hassle to him?

“Wow,” you scoff in disbelief, arms crossing your chest. Almost immediately, you throw your arms up in defeat. “Okay fine, be like that… Fucking had it up to here.”

You mumble the last sentence and your right heel turns to face the bedroom door. Stomping out of the tense atmosphere, your hand reaches down and grabs the phone from your back pocket.

“What are you doing?” You can hear Satoru’s voice echo from your shared bedroom- well, maybe not for tonight. Give him the leisure to sleep next to a cold side of the bed for once.

“Cancelling our stupid dinner reservations,” you almost spat as your thumb nimbly presses several buttons until you locate the restaurant number. “What a prick…”

But as you mutter the last portion, tears prick the corners of your eyes. You wanted to do something special for him since he’s been burying himself in work. And since time coincidentally allowed it, you reserved a table for February 25th at the restaurant you and Satoru first met with Nanami (and on the same date too!)

3 years ago, the restaurant was a lot smaller, but as business boomed in that area over time, so did their occupancy. You initially planned for it to be on Valentine’s Day, but seats were all taken by then. Luckily, they had one available spot on the 25th. And since it’s on a Sunday, Satoru shouldn’t have anything planned if he’s not on an assignment.

As if fate had reserved that special day, you booked the table for two and hoped that Satoru wouldn’t be out on a mission. And to your luck, he wasn’t. But unfortunately, he also pardoned himself from your planned rendezvous in a rather harsh way.

And as your thumb hovers over the contact number, 60% of your brain yells at you to press it while the other 40% says to stop thinking impulsively. Once you cancel reservations, there is no going back. And who knows, you and Satoru will end up being at the bottom of the steep hill once that day arrives.

Sighing, you don’t realize that you’ve made it to the living room until your free hand subconsciously grasps onto the back of the couch for support.

‘What the hell is going on?’ Your chest rises rapidly at the notion of empty fights with Satoru, endless volleys of stupid banter. “Why don’t you do this?” “Why don’t you leave me alone?” So many ‘why’s’ ricochetting in this already rocky relationship. Grief is a strong emotion, even for your partner, but is that still a reasonable excuse for pushing you away?

Frustratingly, your hand holding the phone flings the electronic onto the couch and it bounces off the cushion, the corner striking the ground. Screen side down, it slides across the wooden floor, halting as it bumps into the foot of the man who causes the current ache in your heart.

With a raised brow, he bends down and scoops the phone from the floor, his slender fingers tracing over the newly scratched grooves. “You dropped something.”

Sneering in his direction, you no longer even try to hide the frustration and hurt that’s been bubbling inside of you. You’ve built a tower of patience, giving Satoru his undivided space so he can mourn in his own way, but now that tower is crumbling. Each passive-aggressive comment or coldness he gave within the past few weeks slowly knocks each of the pillars. At this point, you’re about to crumble into several pieces.

Forcing your hand down from impulsively snatching the device from him, you huff and turn away from him.

“Glad you noticed. While you have it, call the restaurant and cancel the reservation for me.”

Your sarcastic retort doesn’t earn a teasing smile from his end, like how it usually does. Instead, he frowns and disregards the device by taking your hand and placing it on your palm.

As a way of petty vengeance, you snag your hand away from his touch, even though a chilling sensation sends sparks throughout your body as his finger unintentionally lingers your skin. Oh, how it’s been a while since you’ve been genuinely touched by Satoru. And every simple thing he conducts makes you want to burst.

“Oh?” His head tilts to the side, as your gaze refuses to meet his. “Are you ignoring me now?”

His retort enables a sneer expression from your face. Now he speaks in that playful, disregarding tone as if you were the one at fault.

So instead, you don’t speak up and scroll on your phone, finding the restaurant’s contact information to complete your task. But before getting the chance to call, Satoru huffs out, “wait.”

Pausing with your thumb hovering over the call button, you hesitantly look up to finally meet his face. His white brows are slightly knitted, while the edge of his lips is curved down.

“Are you really going to cancel reservations?”

His tone is hushed as if he couldn’t believe you’re going to pull through with this. Many times, he’s sent you over the edge with that little game of his. But never once would you commit to those little threats you would make against him… Until now, maybe.

Refusing to give him the satisfaction by giving pity, your scowl curves up to a sarcastic smirk as if he just recited the most BS statement.

“I’m only doing what you want me to do,” you reply with a simple shrug as if you’re stating nothing but mere fact. But in actuality, your heart pounds with hurt and anxiety as the strain between you two has increased even more. You can only hope that Satoru won’t be able to read how you truly feel on the inside.

“But I never told you to cancel our date,” the crinkles between his brows have deepened.

“You mean our stupid date,” you reiterate his recent lash out. “Even if you haven’t said it, any idiot would’ve figured out that you don’t want to go.”

“Y/n-”

“I’m undoing my little mistake, Satoru!” Your voice rises and he stands back, expression unwavering. “Next time, I’ll ask if you want to go instead of booking reservations weeks prior to your knowledge. Sorry for trying to plan something nice for us.”

That pained feeling in your chest rises again as newly formed tears force their way out of your eyes. The strong, prideful exterior you’ve built to face Satoru quickly tumbles down and your lips quiver in shame.

A few seconds pass before Satoru sighs and finally steps closer. Reluctantly, you step back. If you haven’t looked up, you can almost miss a brief change of his impression. He looks almost… hurt?

But respecting your boundaries, he steadies his stance and lowers his voice to a softer tone.

“I’m sorry.” It’s subtle and quick, but that two-word sentence catches your attention. Blinking, you wait for him to continue.

“I… I actually don’t want to cancel your reservation.” His hand rubs his nape while he looks away shamefully. “I was just pissed off about something and I took it out on you.”

A part of you wants to laugh at the irony behind this. Now he doesn’t want to cancel plans? But still, you refuse to speak and allow him to elaborate.

“I shouldn’t have done that. I know,” he states glumly. “But if you’d still like, we can still go out. It’s been a while since we’ve had a date.”

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” you quietly mumble, still not making contact with his eyes. “I’d rather cancel the whole thing than continue just because you feel guilty.”

Sighing outwardly, Satoru presses his right thumb and forefinger against his forehead, pausing before responding back. Ever since the night of Suguru’s death, his complexion has gone pale from malnutrition. No matter how many times you force him to eat and drink water whenever possible, the natural glow he once had has never returned.

“Yes, I do feel guilty.” He attempts again, a little more urgent this time. “But I really do want to go. It’s been so long.”

And finally, your longing eyes meet his. Even those brilliant blue eyes are missing their natural spark.

After a short moment, contemplating if you should go along with him or not, you give in by nodding in agreement. “Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

Almost hesitantly, you walk towards your partner’s unopened arms and spread yours instead, engulfing him in an embrace that you haven’t done in so long. The body that is pressed against yours stiffens from the sudden impact and a small part of you jolts in sadness as if he’s not welcoming your touch. But he hasn’t pushed you away, which is a trait that he would’ve done if he didn't seek any physical affection.

“I’m sorry for my outburst,” you exclaim with the side of your cheek squished against his chest. You expect at least a hand to brush over your hair or a tight squeeze from his arms to complete the intimate mold. But even though your body presses against him, it feels like the distance between your two souls is still miles apart.

“I deserved it,” Satoru mumbles, a small chuckle vibrating down to his chest. Noting how light his voice makes you feel better and the pain that you felt has temporarily dissipated. This positive outcome is only a small crumb of what you truly desired, but it’s still some sort of improvement, nonetheless, right?

Your mind is currently set for the future date on the special date for you and Satoru. The fact that you almost gave up made you feel a little disappointed in yourself. Though you kept fighting, all of that pent-up frustration almost made you call it quits. And even though it was directed towards the dinner date, one step of backing down can lead to a domino effect of failures and lost hopes to carry on.

After this argument, everything should be going back as planned. Hopefully, your partner’s perspective has broadened just as much as yours has. And maybe, this pivot has turned into an event that is a crucial lesson for your relationship and Satoru’s healing. Both of you realize that you do have a breaking point and ironically for him, there is a limit to an important portion of his life.

And now, all there is left to do is reassess what had just happened and work together as a couple to go over this major arc in order to move on. After calming down with a clear mind, you still decide to be patient in whatever route Satoru is heading to, as long as he complies to your needs and feelings too.

“I love you,” you murmur as the heat of the moment of the atmosphere simmers down to tranquility.

Almost unmoving, Satoru hums a low, “I know.”

3.

Days leading up to the special date night, things have been a little more open between you and your beloved. Though you have been the one initiating any physical affection or closing off the distance, Satoru hasn’t been pushing you away like how he always did. Whenever you catch him coming home late at night or early mornings, you greet him like the good partner you are.

But behind that oblivious act, your subconscious suspects something from him. That very core of your soul warns you that Satoru may be achieving his fill from a 3rd party and your brain compares the similarities between him and your ex. The ruffled hair, loose clothing, the unwillingness to meet your gaze.

And at the same time, your stubborn perception refuses to acknowledge this commotion. In fact, you feel disgusted forever putting Satoru and your ex at the same thought. To you, Satoru is perfect, honest, and pure. You swore to yourself that you would never catch yourself in the same position as you were once in all those years ago. And until now, you trusted your gut that Satoru would never commit such a malicious sin.

And so, you pursued those oblivious, innocent thoughts and forced yourself to break away from the idea of Satoru ever being unfaithful. After years of devotion as concrete evidence, even the greatest turning point of his life won’t ever send him down that spiral.

—--

The night has finally come. February 25, 2018, you sit inside the booth where you, Satoru, and Nanami sat 3 years ago.

Whiffs of nostalgia hit your nose as the familiar scents of flavorful foods and alcoholic drinks temporarily send you back in time. A time where you were heartbroken, but also a time where you met a man who was willing to piece your heart back in place.

The day before the date, Satoru informed you that he had a meeting planned with Principal Yaga in regards to the school’s affairs and something with the higher-ups. So it was mutually decided that you’ll meet separately at the designated time.

And in all honesty, that excited you even more. Ever since you and Satoru lived together, you were both accustomed to seeing each other get ready before a date. And even though the definition of a ‘date’ still hasn’t changed, it’s more thrilling to feel like you’re getting all dressed up to impress your lover for once. And the suspense of not knowing how he’ll dress makes it even more fun.

Adjusting the fabric of your clothes and your hair until satisfied, you check the time on your watch, patiently waiting for him to waltz in those bustling doors.

7:03 PM.

You told him that reservations were actually at 6:30 instead of 7, knowing that he’ll be late. Now it’s only 3 minutes past the designated time. You sip the water that the server handed to you.

7:15 PM.

The server returns, asking if you’re ready to order. You check the watch again and the door, with no signs of Satoru. You tell her that you’re still waiting for your boyfriend.

7:20 PM.

You’ve sent 2 text messages to Satoru, asking where he is. Not too long after, you dial his contact number, only to be greeted by an automated voice mail after an uncertain of rings. Your stomach growls as you have to push away the same server again.

7:35 PM.

Your fingers meticulously tap on the table, patience leaving you. Some of the diners that you saw while walking in already left, replaced by new guests, new dates that are enjoying their special night out. This time, the server doesn’t waste her time walking over and makes eye contact with you from the register instead.

You shake your head.

7:43 PM.

“Thanks, Kento.” You huff, leaning against the booth’s back.

“Of course,” Nanami replies over the phone. “I’ll still try to contact Gojo and let you know if that idiot decides to pick up my calls. In the meantime, do you need a ride to go home?”

No longer masking your defeated tone, you shake your head as if he’s sitting right in front of you. “I drove here so I’ll be driving back to the estate. That’s… That’s very sweet of you. Bye.”

You quickly hang up the call, a burning tightness squeezes your chest. After figuring out from Nanami that Satoru did not step foot into the school today, not only did he lie to you, but this helps conclude the fact that he will be missing date night.

That burning sensation of unease momentarily turns into anger. How dare he stand you up again? It’d be less problematic if he were to just cancel the whole thing in the first place. Gnawing on your thumbnail, your head forms a mental cloud of emotions, your mind swirling through the storm.

But… What if something bad happened to him?

As you attempt to prohibit tears from slipping out, you look at your watch again and decide to give him a few more minutes to spare.

7:52 PM.

The air is still lively and loud while you miserably look down on your gold promise ring, wondering if you should go home and check if Satoru is there.

A feeling of anxiety maintains inside of you.

8:03 PM.

The server informs you that her shift is over and she’ll be leaving. You told her you’d be doing the same and offer a large sum of cash for compensation of the reservation and tip money.

She tells you that she can’t take that much, but you’re already walking out the door.

8:09 PM.

As the car’s engine warms up, you shiver in the driver’s seat either from anger, worry, the freezing cold, or a mix of the three.

Why? Why did he not show up at all? Was he out on a last-minute mission?

Regardless, he would have informed you if something popped up, no matter how urgent it was.

Is he okay? Is he hurt? What if Geto’s henchmen hunted Satoru down and ganged up on him?

Driving out of the parking lot with a thousand worrying thoughts flooding your mind, you only hope that Satoru hasn’t set himself up in a life-threatening situation. And yet if he hasn’t, he’d better have a great excuse why he didn’t bother to show up.

9:24 PM

You practically run to the home you and Satoru share, panting as you cross the estate, legs burning while your feet heavily paces on the rocky road.

“Satoru?!” You slide the door open, peering into the darkness of the traditional Japanese house. Head spinning from worry and fatigue, you stumble inside, turn on the lights and kick off the leather boots you had on.

“Sa- oh!” Gasping from your feet hitting something unfamiliar, you look down and let out a separate gasp from your discovery.

Red boots?

Your heart instantly plummets. The smartwatch wrapped around your wrist beeps, giving a warning that your heart is beating rapidly.

You look down and examine them, immediately formulating an excuse. These shoes can’t be for you, since they’re too small. Yet, these are too big to be Tsumiki’s and this isn’t her style. Desperately, you look around for Megumi’s pair, but it’s nowhere to be found.

Beams of sweat form on your neck and forehead, everything in this cozy home becomes much more humid and uncomfortable.

“Satoru?” Your attempt to shout his name fails and diminishes to a soft plea. A plea that the idea infiltrating your mind isn’t true.

You don’t know how long you’ve been standing at the entrance, but your feet are glued on the wooden floor, remnants of the past flooding the vision in front of you.

‘No… No this isn’t happening.’ Both hands squeeze the sides of your face in an attempt to stay collected. But the tightness of your throat and blurriness of your vision prevents that composure from remaining strong.

As if your body suddenly went into autopilot, your right foot finally makes the first step, the wooden floor feels like the carpet of your old shared home with a former flame many years ago.

The air surrounding you has become all too suffocating, images of the traumatizing past flashing in the back of your head. It’s like you can feel Satoru’s infinity purposely prohibiting you from taking any further steps. However, your immediate drive to discover his disappearance counteracts that ‘want’ to look away and keep whatever’s left in this relationship afloat.

But your pride counteracts your desired ignorance.

Slowly, as you get closer to the master bedroom, the sounds of muffled groans from a familiar voice and an unfamiliar one overpowers the blood boiling inside your eardrums. And before you can thoroughly react, the intimate noises have become clear and amplified once your hand automatically opens the door, revealing the sin spewing in front of you.

Two jackets and a shirt tossed on the ground aids your perception by leading your eyes from the ground to the king-sized bed.

And on top of the mattress that you’ve slept on for 2 years was your very own partner, pinning an unknown woman beneath him.

His right-hand cups the curve of her breast while the other explores the other curves of her waist. The warm breath you craved from Satoru is now felt on the woman’s skin, as his mouth pants against her neck, joyously moaning her name instead of yours.

“So fucking beautiful…” he curses underneath his breath and the woman holds the back of his head tighter, her hips grinding against his. Even though he’s clothed with his pants still on, Satoru continues to hump against her core, earning a pitched sigh from her mouth.

From where you’re standing they look like a choreographed couple making love, raw and intimate. Satoru has always been graceful with his moves. And now that you’re seeing it from a third person’s perspective, you get to see how elegant he truly is.

It’s disgusting.

Yet, you continue to stand there unwavering, the beat of your heart seems to have come to a halt. Pictures of your ex temporarily replace Satoru, your mind deciphering the parallels between the two. Flashbacks of the nightmare you had over a year ago resurface from the buried depths of your brain, the unidentified image of the woman is complete.

Your nightmare is now playing right in front of you and you’re too much in a dreamlike state to take action. Your breath stills and your knees lock, limbs urging you to stay standing.

Your throat tightens, but you don’t sob. Your vision blurs, but a single tear struggles to come out.

You don’t feel anything.

The event laid in front of you is shocking, but it was predicted. Your faith in Satoru’s loyalty just prevented you from taking earlier action.

But even though your exterior remains hard, you’ve already crumbled on the inside. The difference between your previous experience and now is that you’re not going to break down in front of Satoru. The motivation is either from shock or pride, but all you have left to show is your last remaining bits of it.

Stay strong now and break down later.

When they changed positions, the woman noticed you first.

She yelps and covers her exposed breasts, forcing Satoru to let go of his hold and face the doorway, to face you.

To describe his face as the expression of ‘horrid’ is an understatement. Like you, his entire body stiffens, his eyes light up like a deer in headlights. His mouth gapes open, only to have a timid, inaudible sound fail to formulate any coherent words. You bore at his appearance, investigating every single marking you can find from a distance.

His neck and bare chest are flawed with lovebites and his back is marked with dozens of red lines that weren’t from your doing. The strands of his hair poking in every direction while his lips are smeared with pink lipstick, courtesy of the bitch he was on.

For the first time since you’ve met him, he looks utterly sad and pathetic in your eyes.

And the traitor seems to notice the indifference and neutrality of your emotion.

“Y/n,” he stammers, scuffling out of the bed and walking towards you. “I… You’re back. Look, I can explain what I’ve done.”

He leaves himself speechless and you look up at his towering frame, internally frailing as your body begins to comprehend his betrayal. You can barely grasp onto the false exterior you’ve built as the acidic burn of tears prick the corners of your eyes. You open your mouth to say a condescending sentence, but a gasp is choked out instead.

The world spins around you as your subconscious realizes that this is not a simulation nor a dream.

4.

Gojo Satoru doesn’t hesitate to admit that he has cheated on you.

His hand reaches out for your physical contact, but it is your palm that initiates it… or attempts to… with his face.

However, your impulse act of violence backfires as the stinging of your palm isn’t from the impact with his skin, but rather, the space separating you and him.

The last time he had set the infinite barrier between you and him was before you started dating. And now, you feel like you’re the one that was slapped.

Your face distorts into a mix of hurt and confusion, your hand flexing away from the stinging pain. That unexpected action is the straw that broke the camel’s back as it distinguishes the loss of trust and connection between the two souls. The pillar inside you crumbles and the waterworks drip down the sides of your face while you look up at your soon-to-be former lover in absolute awe.

In awe that he pushed you away, that he betrayed you, that he broke his promise of loving you forever, and that two precious years of your life of devotion to him has gone down the drain.

“I…” You finally make out a word and his head snaps up. Peering over to the woman, who is still clearly in shock from your sudden appearance, you can’t prevent your lips from quivering while struggling to hold back another sob.

“I’ll be… staying at the Fushiguro’s. And- And I’ll be back tomo-tomorrow.” You pause as the sentences are choppy and delayed from your incoming cries. Your hands fly to your face, shoulders quaking as you express your sorrow in front of the man who caused it. All he can do is stare dumbfounded.

Who’s the pathetic one now?

With no other words left to say, you turn around and hastily leave, your weeps becoming more apparent. Gojo’s voice echoes around the home, shouting your name the moment your body reaches the front door.

“Y/n-”

“DON’T YOU FUCKING FOLLOW ME!” A wave of anger jolts through you, temporarily seizing the echoing sobs. But it doesn’t last long as hiccups stab your chest, forcing another pathetic cry out of you. Whatever strength you have left simmers down to a quiet plea. “Don’t. Just don’t.”

Not bothering to take your shoes, you leave the grand house and flee to the neighboring house, but stop three-quarters of the way there.

The full moon and twinkling stars above remind you how late it is and that the kids might be sleeping. You don’t know where to retreat to.

Still gazing up at the natural lights of the night, you fall on your knees, giving them a dramatic show, showcasing the most pivotal part of the act. The skin covered by your attire aches at the sudden impact, but you’re too distraught to notice.

‘The moon is beautiful isn't it, Satoru?’ You have the urge to say the poetic Japanese phrase out loud, but instead, replace it with a tragic wail. The moon is beautiful tonight and the man you had always said it to no longer agrees. For an unknown duration, he’s sharing the moon’s beauty with someone else.

Why?

Why, why, why, why, why?

Your hands cover your ears, trying to shun the world around you, the beating of your heart overwhelms your hearing. Frustratingly, you dig your hands on the gravel, nails scraping the tiny rocks and dirt. The moon reflects on the gold band you have on as if it’s mocking your despair.

As you continue to grieve over Satoru, two sudden forces bump into each shoulder, causing you to jump. The forces return, but it’s more gentle, like wet noses rubbing against you.

“Huh?” Still shaken up, your palms slowly reach up from the gravel and up to the sky at chest’s reach. Marks of blood are drawn from the sharp earth on your palms. The remnants of gravel sticking on your skin bounces off as the feeling of two furry snouts brushes them away.

Your eyes widen at the comfort of the invisible dogs you’ve grown to love. They’re here in front of you, nuzzling against you. Slowly your hands carefully reach out the open-air until you can feel their backs. Based on the way each hand trails up, you determine that they’re sitting down in front of you.

The moment you feel their ears, you pull each companion onto a tight hug, their heads resting against each shoulder. One of their furs brush against your nose and you notice that some of the mini rocks are getting swept side to side, assuming that’s where their tails are.

You exhale another gasp, and quiet whimpers echo on each side, showing sympathy towards their master’s parent figure.

For a while, you continue to cry, sobs muffled thanks to burying yourself against one of the wolves’ bodies. Too occupied by your mourning, you don’t notice a hand placed on your shaking shoulder.

“L/n?” The concerned voice of a male teen brings you back to your senses. Startled, your hold on the dogs loosened and you refused to look up.

‘Shit.’

You attempt to take a deep breath, but the blockage in your nose causes you to sniffle instead.

“Megumi!” Also, your attempt at sounding enthusiastic failed. “It’s late. How… How did you find me?”

You ask as if you aren’t embracing the two obvious answers.

“The dogs were getting restless, but not in an aggressive way. They kept pawing at the front door and the moment Tsumiki opened it, they bolted out the door towards you. They’re very perceptive when it comes to sensing negative emotions,” he explains technically as he hopes that it’s a way to have you open up. “Especially to people they care about.”

“I see…” You force a laugh while rubbing their heads. For a temporary moment, you feel ridiculous since you’re clinging to open-air in your perspective. But at least Megumi physically sees otherwise.

Still, you can’t formulate an excuse or a typical witty statement to hide your current state. And at this point, Megumi is old enough to comprehend that you’re far from okay, so there’s no need to hide it. It’d be rather insulting to test his emotional intelligence if you continued to hide your true feelings.

So you remain silent, and allow the air to succumb to you. Megumi falls on his knees behind you and it doesn’t take too long until his hold on your shoulder forms into a tight embrace around your body.

Like a son comforting a lost parent, he rests his forehead against the back of your head, the tips of hair tickling your nape. Unlike his white-haired guardian, touch is never his forte, often avoiding or annoyingly accepting whatever hand or arm that comes his way. And you respect the personal space he prefers.

That’s why you hold your breath when two boyish arms snake around your shoulders since this is a new interaction between the two of you. It’s chilling but comforting and you embrace his warmth.

“I’m sorry,” he utters as if he was expecting all of this to happen. Drawing back to Christmas Eve, he knows that the final embrace between you and Satoru would be the last he’ll ever witness. He may not know the details, but he knows Gojo.

And his sensei is like a ticking time bomb that’s been waiting to explode.

Megumi feels you tremble underneath his arms and both dogs look at him, waiting for a command. All he can do is stare at them with pursed lips.

Whatever Gojo did to you, it must’ve been bad. But after learning how your attitude is just like Tsumiki, where he’ll be put first if he shows any sign of distress, he suppresses any negative emotion and just focuses on you, allowing himself to be the strong pillar for once. He can get angry later, but he must allow you to mourn first.

“L/n!” A distant, feminine voice intercepts. The younger brother turns around and notices her sister running towards them, her brows arched and lips quivering.

Though the blood of Jujutsu sorcery does not run in her veins, Megumi believes that Tsumiki has a gift greater than a majority of sorcerers. Empathy is rare and a trait that counteracts survival. To live for self-purpose is a world that he’s known all his life. He knows that behind the ‘selfless’ care Gojo has given for him and his sister, he is a trump card for the strongest sorcerer’s greater desire. And only God’s aware of Toji Fushiguro’s whereabouts since he must be living his best life with the money he must’ve acquired from the Zenin’s.

Besides Tsumiki, you’re the first person that entered his life, who would show pure and genuine kindness without expecting a gain from him. For the first time in his life, he felt the love of a parent he’s always wanted.

You welcomed him with open arms, showing no indifference that he’s not like you. You learned how to love his furry companions, even though you can’t physically see them. You taught him important life lessons to not abuse his strength in order to defend the weak. You were there to tell him things that Satoru fails to teach and where Tsumiki’s scoldings fall short.

And maybe the time before the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons, Megumi wasn’t as selfless as he thought. He kept his mouth shut to savor your last moments with your Gojo, shunned you for how closed off he would be after. Though he barely remembers it, Megumi recalls the time when Gojo’s one and only betrayed him. As a kid, he wasn’t as keen on picking up Gojo’s coping mechanisms. But he does recall when his new guardian gave Tsumiki a credit card and left for a few weeks.

Megumi should’ve warned you, let you know how Gojo would be. He should’ve smacked some common sense into the man and not allowed him to stay isolated. Tsumiki should’ve been with you more often. Megumi should’ve been with you more often.

But like a child clinging onto a last bit of hope, that who Megumi is. He selfishly stays on the sidelines, believing that you are helping Satoru heal, and eventually, you both come back stronger than ever. He childishly hoped that some sort of magic would pull you both from this bump. However, that obviously isn’t the case.

And the remaining bits of his childhood wishes of having a full and complete family have vanished.

You feel another push behind you and a new set of arms wrap around your body. Tsumiki’s tears trickle down your arm and her clutch on you is even tighter than Megumi’s.

Does she know what happened, or are those tears made up of empathy?

Regardless, you allow yourself to be embraced into a cocoon of a familial love that has grown over the past two years.

“It’s okay, L/n will be okay,” you whisper an obvious lie, scratching for any trace of hope. Stay strong for a little while longer. At least, for the kids. “I’m lucky to have you two… Or four.”

You kiss each dog, hoping that some pressure is released from your attempt of comedic relief.

“You’re not okay!” Tsumiki strokes your head as if she’s an adult comforting a broken child. “Please don’t lie to us.”

“Stop crying,” you barely hold your own posture through a soft plea. “I don’t want to see you cry for my sake.”

But Megumi clenches his teeth, the 15-year old’s grip tightens around you. “No, let her… Let us.”

The last two words waver, and you can hear small gasps coming from behind you.

The boy continues to speak, pushing through his choked-up sob. “We’re a family, aren’t we? Just because you’re the adult doesn’t mean that we can’t shed tears for you. Share your burdens with us. Fall apart so we can pick you up. Let me grieve with you. It’s what… It’s what I deserve.”

You don’t understand what he means by his last sentence, but your lips curve up to a crooked smile, touched by their presence. The Fushiguro’s are angels with no halos, and they’re the greatest blessings that were ever introduced to you.

Too self-indulgent from your own struggles, you only realized that Tsumiki will be losing a family twice and Megumi three times. You want to comfort them and say how nothing will change, but everyone knows that things will be different from here on out. Ever since Christmas Day, nothing has ever been the same.

Letting go of the invisible wolves, your hands rest on each of their forearms, giving a tight squeeze.

“I’ve been blessed with the greatest gifts of all,” you smile genuinely. And your broken heart melts in truth. “I’m not your official guardian, but you’ve always been my children. I’m so proud to see how grown-up you’ve become. Thank you.”

Tsumiki sobs, noting your indirect goodbye and Megumi refuses to pull away, in denial about your proposed disappearance.

“Shut up. This isn’t the last time you’ll see us.”

His words are blunt, but the meaning behind his words is warm, desperate. It pains you just as much as it pains him. And you’re sorry for placing the two into a familiar situation and going through another cycle of being in a broken family.

“I know.” You look up at the night sky, wondering how many people who just had their hearts broken are also gazing at the same moon as you. The illuminating light shines bright, carrying the same tone as Satoru’s hair color. Your heart twists again as the man you love forces his way into your mind.

In defeat, you mumble to yourself with his eyes drowning in your thoughts.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

5.

The following gloomy morning, you quietly entered Satoru’s home with the promise ring clutched on the palm of your hand.

And much to your surprise, three luggage bags and multiple boxes labeled with your name have been stacked in the living room. The pain engraved inside of you amplifies as it’s clear that Satoru’s actions weren’t a mistake. The barrier that took you a long time to break down has rebuilt itself like you were never there.

He wants you gone and out of his life.

“I transferred 100 million yen to your bank account and you still have guaranteed access to any of my estates around Japan.” His voice sounds professional, almost robotic.

When Gojo enters your perspective, he wears his uniform. And his hair sticks up thanks to the white bandages around his eyes.

He’s like the man you bumped into at the bakery 3 years ago.

There’s no sly smile and his posture as straight as a ruler. He makes his way to the front as if the past 3 years of his life were all in your delusion.

“To make it easier for you, you can choose a place and I’ll teleport you and your belongings there.” His tone is cold, unbothered. Impatient even.

Bewildered, your body trembles at the newly found stranger in front of you. Is this who Satoru truly is? Is he pulling a facade? Or was this entire relationship a facade? Up to what point?

There’s no regret or remorse from his end. The kindness and love that you’ve received is nowhere to be seen.

Why? All you can ask is why. Why, why, why, why,

“Why?” You clench your jaw, not knowing how to act. “Why did you do this? How long has this charade been happening for?”

Satoru pauses before answering. “I don’t need to answer that.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ll only get hurt.”

“As if my feelings aren’t already totaled by the man I love!” You hiss at his false patronage. “2 years and 8 months, Satoru. I loved you for almost 3 years. When did you stop feeling the same?”

“Over a month.”

Your hand holding the ring folds into a tight fist as if that’s the only evidence of your love left. It doesn’t take too long for the stinging tears to reappear underneath your puffy eyes and roll down your strained cheeks.

You can look pathetic for all you care. Not an ounce of pride is left in your system. But all you want to know is why.

Why did you allow him to trick you like your ex? Why did he allow you to relive your greatest nightmare?

“Why don’t you want me anymore?” The inquiry comes out hushed, but anguish in your face is piercing.

This time, Satoru doesn’t answer, but your glare lets him know that your question is far from rhetorical. Not too long after, he sighs.

“We’re too different, Y/n.” He exclaims like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “And I’m tired.”

You scoff. “Tired of what?”

“I’m tired of you.”

“...What?”

Without hesitating, he repeats. “I’m tired of taking care of you.”

Freezing, your brain processes his sentence, his reasoning. He’s tired of taking care of me? Stammering, you press him again.

“What the hell do you mean by that?”

“They’re right.” Gojo digs his hands into his pocket. “Until the day this planet explodes, curses will continue to walk on the earth. And I need a partner who is compatible in taking care of themselves, who's near the same level as I am.”

And with that, your greatest insecurity from long ago resurfaces.

A flaw that remains on the back of your head, no matter how many times Satoru dismissed it. But it's a worry that one day, he will be burnt out of protecting you from the evils of the world.

“I’m not a sorcerer, but I can handle myself, Satoru!” You desperately shout any sort of defense. “And you told me that you would protect me no matter what! You promised that!”

Out of instinct, you throw the ring down, the metal clinging on the wooden floor. Satoru’s head glances down at the object, lips gaped open.

Your breath becomes heavy and your vision blurs.

“Many… Many times you’ve expressed how much you loved me and many, many times I find ways to express how much I love you. And I did it the best I humanly can,” Your feet guide you over to his standing figure, droplets of sorrow coming from your body continue to spill on the floor. “Where did I mess up? What caused you to do this? What could have I done better? … Why did you cheat on me?”

Your interrogation diminishes down to a whisper. Though it's quiet, the last question is the one you demanded an answer for the most.

“I’ve already told you,” His tone lowers and expresses annoyance. “Were you not listening?”

“That woman last night, what made you choose her over me?!” Your hands cling against the fabric on his chest, forcing him to be pulled towards you. It’s a shock that Satoru didn’t turn on his infinity.

But I’ve spoken too soon on that statement since the connection doesn’t last long as Satoru raises a finger and your hands are pried from his uniform due to the invisible force. Stoically, he replies.

“She’s someone who is able to take care of herself.”

You reflect on his world while your eyes scan his bandages, trying to read his face. There’s nothing that can be read.

“Is she- Is she a sorceress?”

“One of the best.”

He said it lightly, pride flickering off his tongue. That woman on your shared bed was a sorcerer, someone who you can’t ever beat. Blessed with a commonality that you can’t share with Satoru. Of course. The strongest sorcerer needs the strongest pillar to support him and you can’t provide that with justice.

Your stomach plummets with inferiority over the partner who replaced you.

“B-But… But I- You can’t-” Regardless of the reason, you want to shout that his actions aren’t justified. He played you around and fooled you blindsided.

You gave him the support that you humanly could and accepted him when his life was once beyond your beliefs. All in the name of love just for you to end up in a situation like this.

He’s ruined you.

“You’ve become a burden.”

And you became the very thing you didn’t want to be.

A burden, like how he’s stated in your dream a long time ago. It’s so distant, but all too real at the same time. Except, that this worry of yours isn’t just in the back of your mind, but it’s how Satoru feels. You are powerless who was also linked next to the sole protector of the entire world. He ended the life of another man who was second in strength and arrogant to those who are more powerful than you.

Your nightmare has become the truth. Why would he continue to have a partner who gives him nothing but constant worry?

But the words are still sharp and your wounds are very fresh. You stare sadly at his lips, the ones you’ve kissed a thousand times, his nose, the one that you’ve felt all around your body, his hair, the strands you’ve run through over and over again until he falls asleep and lastly, his white mask, the one that covers those beautiful sky-like eyes. The pair that you’ll never get tired of gazing into.

“I’m sorry that it had to end like this,” he finally apologizes, but it doesn’t seem like he regrets his sin. “You've become a burden to me and I'm done. The difference between you and her is that she is able to fend for herself. And that is what I needed."

He continues to twist his verbal knife into your chest. And almost menacingly, he adds an anecdote to only add more stinging to your pain.

"But for what it’s worth, I’ve lived the best three years of my life with you.”

Then why? Why must he end it so brutally?

“That's what made you change? You went out and fucked another person, while I sit there, yearning for your touch, wondering why you've shunned me out. All of this because I'm not competent?” You mutter. “You could’ve talked to me about it like a normal person, like someone with a heart instead of sneaking behind my back. I trusted you!”

“You should hurry and pick one of the estates.” He diverts the topic, but you still pull him back.

“Do you still love me?”

An inaudible grunt escapes his lips and Satoru freezes. Oh, how you wish that you can see what’s behind those eyes of his. Maybe you will be able to tell if the words he speaks out of his mouth are true.

“My heart belongs to someone else.”

A chill runs down your spine as his quick confession consists of words that you don’t want to hear. It’s not thrilling, but it’s cold and harsh.

Gojo Satoru doesn’t hesitate to admit that he no longer loves you.

With your head hung low, you back down and take a few steps back. So many questions are left unanswered, emotions that are still needed to be processed.

The anger in you fades and you have nothing else to say. Misery and defeat fill the pupils of your eyes. You can only hope that he’s not blind enough to miss what he's done to you.

You’re not good enough and you never were. If you were to learn one thing from your breakup with your ex, it’s that no matter how much anger you throw or energy you project, they’re not going to come back. They’re not going to fall on their knees and grovel for forgiveness, granting you the satisfaction you deserve, since they’ve already made up their mind with someone else. You thought you found a second chance in life with Satoru, your knight in shining armor.

You thought that the universe has gifted you this man as an apology for your suffering, only to be stabbed in the back once more. How many more cycles must this go on?

Have you sinned so much in your previous life, and this is how you atone?

“Just take my stuff back to my old house.” You turn. “I’ll need a minute to say goodbye to the kids.”

With your back facing him, you make your way outside, where the sky matches the color of your mood. But before you can make it out, his voice intercepts again.

“Aside from your debit card, I’ll also give you a credit card under my name. Spend it however you wish for as long as you like.”

You almost scoffed. ‘What is this, compensation?’

“I don’t need your money.”

“But-”

“I’ll find my way. You no longer want me in your life, so I no longer need you in mine.” Your venomous comeback makes a return. You don’t lash, but your voice is drained and tired.

“And the ring.” He reminds you while you look down at it, the metal band waiting to be picked up. It carries the symbolization of eternal trust, bond, and love. The three factors that no longer coexist between you two. “Take it with you.”

It almost sounds more of a request than an offer, which isn’t something that you’re willing to take.

“Give it to your lover. It’s useless to me now.”

But in truth, you won’t let go of it if it were in your possession.

Numbed by this interaction, you walk at a pace that quickly brings you to the exit of the house you once called home. But you’re still unsatisfied with the things you’ve said to him. Though you believe that it’s useless, you decide that it’s now or never. Express the remaining thoughts that you have in your mind.

With your hand on the open door frame, you turn and face Gojo Satoru, the man who you loved for all these years, the man who you believe you’d spend eternity with. For a long time, you thought your love story would be everlasting, only for it to end as a trope of star-crossed lovers. Except, Gojo Satoru was the exterior force to all of this.

“Before I met you, I thought that I was cursed when it comes to love. And when you came to my life, it’s as if you exorcised the very belief I loathed.”

He exhales at how suddenly collected you are. You continue calmly, giving him a sympathetic smile.

“But obviously it isn’t. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for the last 3 years, Satoru. Thank you for helping me realize that love is the greatest gift and the most twisted curse of them all. A twisted curse that can have no end. And thank you… thank you for cursing me with the love you’ve provided.”

You see his shoulders rise like his abdomen has been stabbed from your words. He opens his mouth, but he doesn’t protest.

“I can’t say that I hate you, because that would be a lie. Nor can I say that I love you, because I’ll curse myself even more if I do. But I can say that I am disappointed in you, Satoru. I’m disappointed that you made me believe that you’re not like the rest, that I was able to find permanent happiness with you. That you led me to an open road just to have me pushed back down to a pit of infidelity and pain that you swore to never give. That you managed to do the very thing I swore to myself to never fall for again. Thank you for being the greatest love of my life and my greatest disappointment.”

Though your concept of being cursed and cursing is different from his, he understands what you mean. You know that he does.

After delivering your final blow you don’t dare look at his face and instead, walk outside, heading to the Fushiguro’s. This will be the last time you’ll see them for a while.

Defeated, you looked up at the grey sky, clouds filled with water. A wave of realization hits you, as your ‘home’ is no longer the shared, traditional Japanese house a few feet away. Instead, the side that you always slept on will now be occupied by a stranger, who is able to satisfy Satoru in ways that you can’t. You imagine them fighting together on missions and coming home together after a long day.

You hope that she knows how Satoru enjoys baths after a long day, but he must take a shower first to wash off the dirt.

Or how he likes it when his bareback and chest are explored with fingertips, but it doesn’t mean that anything suggestive would always be initiated. He just likes to be touched.

Or that he enjoys using your body wash because he enjoys your scent. You wonder how he’ll smell now.

Or that 60% of the time, Satoru would often end up being the little spoon even though he started off as the big one. He just wants to be held and protected.

Or when Satoru would mumble his nightmares in his sleep, she would need to kiss the tip of his ear while brushing his hair to calm down without waking him up. It was an experiment that took you a year to master.

If it wasn’t for the ache in your throat, you won’t know if the warm water sliding down your cheeks are tears or rain. 2 ½ years of bliss now only exists in your memories.

As the pent-up tears continue to stream down, droplets of rain hit the concrete ground.

The sky cried with you.

name a tr boy that doesn’t have a mommy kink quick.

see u can’t because sigmund freud was right, he’s rolling in his grave rn bc we laughed at him and now 80 years later we’re writing fictional p*rn about 2d men calling us mommy

sincerely not | season one

↳ gojou satoru x f!reader

— series masterlist

summary. with an arranged marriage set in place, the sacred bond is doomed with a wife who wants to make the relationship work and a husband who’s ready to ruin it all. unbeknown to him, a tragic fate already lies within the pages of his romance book.

genre. heavy angst, arranged marriage, modern au, 18+

word count. 200k

fic warnings. mean!gojo, ooc, adultery/infidelity, profanity, explicit smut, violence, emotional trauma/physical abuse from past experiences, neglect, heavy family drama, illnesses, classism, pregnancy, undertones of masochism, undertones of manipulation, abandonment issues, overall toxic relationships, graphic depictions of self-harm, suicide/murder (and attempts thereof), minor character death, plot loosely based on twotm & tre. please read with proper discretion.

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general masterlist + fic art + playlist + gallery + faqs

one + two + three + four + five + six + seven + eight + nine + ten + eleven + twelve + thirteen + fourteen + fifteen + sixteen + seventeen + eighteen + nineteen + twenty (final) + sequel

status: completed

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