#and like it was the right choice if we had stayed it either would have kept escalating or we would have just hidden in our room at which

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Hate You (Kidding)

Crowley & daughter!reader, Sam and Dean & witch!reader, a little Rowena & granddaughter!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: your dad abandoned you years ago, but what happens when he finds out you’re still alive?

A/N: just so no one gets confused about this, here’s the background—Crowley found out how powerful demon/human babies can be, so he tried to make one, only it didn’t go the way he planned—the baby (you) were born without powers, and so he abandoned you. (Just because I didn’t want to give this the exact same backstory as Crowley’s son)

The theft was not going well. Your grandmother had made it seem so easy—sneak into the bunker, grab the black spell book, and make it out fast.

She failed to mention the two professional hunters that lived there.

You hadn’t been dumb enough to assume it would be empty—there had to be a reason Rowena wasn’t going herself, after all; she was scared. But you weren’t ready for Sam and Dean Winchester.

They had you in their dungeon basement—which was super creepy—before you’d even managed to find the book, much less grab it.

“What were you looking for, kid? Who sent you here?” The shorter—but no less scary—one had his hands on the sides of your chair, and he was looming over you. You had no doubt that he was willing to hurt you—you did break into his very dangerous house, after all.

You kept quiet, still unsure what the best course of action was. If you told them about the book and Rowena, would they let you go and go after her?

Then again, you didn’t know anything about these guys—maybe once they got their information, they’d just kill you.

You decided to stay quiet.

“Hey!” Dean smacked his hand on the arm of your chair, and you flinched. “I said—“

The man stopped yelling when the lights went out. They flickered back on a moment later, only this time they were red.

“Someone’s here,” the tall one said.

“I’ll go check.” The man in front of you pulled a gun from the waistband of his jeans and turned to leave, saying to the tall one “watch her.”

Then it was just you and the giant—who, surprisingly, seemed a little less scary. He was definitely intimidating, but he also had a sort of “I don’t hurt children” vibe about him.

“This will all be easier if you tell us what you were after,” he broke the silence.

“Right, because you’ll have a reason to keep me alive after I tell you everything,” you scoffed.

“We won’t have a reason to kill you, either,” Sam countered.

“And you need one?” You questioned.

“What makes you think we’d just kill you for no reason?” He asked.

“I mean I did break into your house, and you are hunters.” You shrugged as best you could with your hands cuffed behind you.

“I’m Sam,” the man said, crouching down so he was more on your level—he was trying to look less intimidating, which surprised you. “That other guy is my brother Dean. We are hunters, but we’re not gonna just kill you for no reason. We’re not like that.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the door opening cut you off.

“Look who came for a visit.” Dean stepped into the room with a man trailing behind him. As soon as the man stepped into the light, every bit of air left your lungs.

“Didn’t know you had a visi—“ Crowley’s sentence froze halfway out of his mouth when he laid eyes on you.

Dean’s suspicious gaze picked up on the awkwardness instantly.

“You two know each other?”

Crowley gained his voice back first. “Used to. Not so much anymore.”

“Oh I don’t know about that.” You found the strength to speak after you heard Crowley’s words. “You still look just as pathetic to me, father.”

“Father?” Dean choked. “Wait, that’s not possible.”

“I thought you were dead.” Crowley was now completely ignoring the Winchesters. “After…after that incident I figured the demons would’ve—“

“Incident?!” You all but screamed. “Incident? Is that what you call you abandoning me? Leaving me for dead? An incident?”

“I had no choice,” Crowley argued. “When the other demons found out you were powerless—“

“The other demons? It wasn’t about the other demons, it was about you! You used my mother to make yourself a half demon, and when I didn’t turn out to have any powers you threw me away. You wanted your demon friends to kill me.”

“No.” Crowley was brushing past Sam and Dean now, coming to stand directly in front of you. You squirmed in your chair, but you couldn’t get further away from him. “No I didn’t. I thought if I got rid of you, they’d have no reason to kill you and—“

“Don’t lie to me!” You cried out. “I’m not stupid! You may not have wanted me dead, but you sure didn’t abandon me to try to save me. You did it because I was useless to you. Pretending otherwise is just…it’s just pathetic.”

Crowley opened his mouth to argue, but he had nothing to say—he knew you were right.

“So you’re half demon with no powers?” Dean cut in. “Because I’ve met a half demon who could do anything he wanted just by thinking it.”

“Why do you think he wanted to make me?” You forced your gaze away from your father to look at Dean. “He wanted an all powerful being that was also fully dependent on him. Too bad for him, not all half demons are the same, and he got stuck with the powerless one.”

“But that doesn’t explain why you’re here now,” Sam cut in.

You bit your lip. You should’ve known it would circle back to this.

“Look, we’re not gonna hurt you if you tell us,” Sam promised.

“Fine.” A sly smirk lifted onto your face as your eyes went back to your father. “I’m here to get a book. For my grandmother.”

Crowley was still choking on air while Sam and Dean shared a meaningful glance before turning back to you.

“Rowena? You’re working for the witch?” Dean’s reaction told you that he both knew Rowena and probably hated her.

“She’s the only reason I’m still alive,” you said. “When he—“ you were inclined your head towards Crowley “—left me behind to get killed by demons, she saved my life.”

“My mother knows you’re still alive and she never told me?” Crowley scoffed. “It’s just like her.”

“She didn’t tell you because I told her how much I hated you.” You glared at Crowley as you spoke. “She understood the feeling, and we had a mutual understanding. Anyway, she told me she would teach me to take out demons the way she can—“

“But let me guess—only if you steal a spell book from us and bring it to her,” Dean interrupted.

“She said it was the only way she’d be able to teach me,” you defended yourself.

“She lied,” Crowley butted in. “She always lies—she was using you to get that book.”

“Oh, right, because you’re so trustworthy,” you shot back. “Why should I trust you?”

“You don’t think it’s a little strange that the first thing she does with you is send you to a place where you could get hurt, just to get something for her?” Sam argued. “You don’t think that that’s using you?”

You were quiet for a moment, and when you spoke again it was more subdued.

“I didn’t have any other choice. There are still demons out there who want me dead, and I’m totally and completely helpless.”

“You don’t have to be,” Crowley said. “I can help you.”

“Rowena may not be a saint, but I already know I can’t trust you,” you snapped. “I’m not looking to get abandoned again.”

“She had to know you’d get caught.” Sam seemed to be talking more to himself than anyone else. “So why…”

The Winchesters seemed to come to a conclusion at the same time, sharing a moment of telepathic connection before they turned and ran out the door.

“Do they do that a lot?” You wondered.

“You have no idea,” Crowley huffed. “I suppose I should find out what’s wrong.”

“You haven’t figured it out yet?” The sudden smirk on your face made Crowley nervous. “Oh come on, don’t tell me you fell for that whole ‘totally and completely helpless” thing.” As you spoke, Crowley saw a faint glow coming from your hands, which were still handcuffed behind you. After a moment, he heard a snapping sound, and suddenly both of your hands were free and you were standing up. “Do you really think Rowena sent me here with no knowledge of magic?”

With a single wave of your hand, you sent Crowley flying against the wall. He landed with a thud, and you stepped over his frame on your way out the door.

“See you soon, father.”

…

Rowena had escaped with the book by the time Sam and Dean got to the library—she had waited until everyone was in the dungeon to make her move—and by the time the boys got back to the dungeon, Crowley was on the floor and you were gone.

“Great,” Dean growled. “She tricked us. I hate witches!”

“For once,” Crowley groaned as he slowly sat up. “I agree with you.”

…

“The Winchesters.” Your nervous gaze met your grandmother’s as you watched her flip through the spell book. “It’s them, they caught up. What now?”

“We need to distract them long enough for me to get through this spell,” Rowena insisted. “I won’t even need the book anymore as long as I can get this spell done.”

“I’ll distract them.” You were halfway to the door when Rowena stopped you.

“No, you’re not strong enough, not like this.” The way your grandmother was staring you down made you nervous.

“Like this?” You asked.

The door blasting open after a swift kick from Dean Winchester seemed to make up Rowena’s mind.

“I’m sorry, dear girl, but it’s the only way,” she said. “Impetus be—“

“Not so fast, mother.” You father appeared out of nowhere just behind Rowena, and he snatched up the spell book she was holding and swung it at her—she went down without another word. “I’m the only one that gets to hurt my brat.”

You didn’t say anything—you were still shaking. “Impetus beastiarum”—that’s what Rowena had been trying to say. Your own grandmother was going to turn you into a rabid monster—and ultimately kill you—just so that she could get away.

“The book.” You flinched out of your daze when Sam Winchester brushed past you and held his hand out to your father.

“Of course, moose,” he answered. “What would I need with a witches book?” He passed it over without argument.

“Why did you save me?” You demanded, sidestepping the taller Winchester to get a good look at your father, who merely shrugged.

“I’m the only one that gets to kill you.”

…

The Winchesters, of course, wanted to grab you after the little incident, but you flung them against the wall with your powers—one of the few tricks your grandmother had managed to teach you, and currently your favorite—and left before they got the chance.

You didn’t see them or your father for several more months. When you saw Crowley again, you were running for your life.

Somehow word had gotten around that a great witch had a granddaughter; or maybe it was that the king of hell had a daughter—you didn’t know, and you didn’t care. All you knew was that an archangel was after you because of it, and you had tried to cut a deal with him.

It hadn’t worked.

Lucifer had wanted you because he thought you’d be useful, and when he found out you weren’t, he of course decided that killing you was proper punishment for wasting his time.

You were in the midst of running for your life when you saw your father.

He was chained to the floor like a dog, watching your exchange with the archangel with peaked interest.

“Conteram hoc cincinno,” you yelled as you ran—it worked, and the chains at Crowley’s wrists snapped; they were warded against demons, not witches.

The freeing of his prisoner was enough of a distraction to get Lucifer off your tail. By the time he remembered you, you were out the door, and when he tried to turn his attention back to Crowley, the demon had already teleported.

…

“What was that?”

You jumped in surprise when your father appeared next to you.

“An escape,” you huffed out.

“You saved me back there.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you demanded. Crowley just grinned at you.

“Maybe witches aren’t so bad.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz

[cannibalspicnic]

I've been wanting to organize my thoughts and theories about the trial, so I'm gonna try writing through them here. Honestly, one of my favorite things about this show so far is the endless potential for speculation so, here it goes....

I think the trial itself was mostly Santiago's idea, and it was the perfect power grab for him.

Lestat's presence at the trial, however, I think is pretty much entirely Armand's doing and the main reason Armand involved himself as deeply as he did.

Santiago didn't know Lestat, didn't seem to particularly appreciate Lestat's presence at the trial, and moreover, didn't need Lestat at the trial. As Claudia pointed out, it was never really a trial. It was a stoning. Execution was the foregone conclusion, and the trial was just a piece of theater. All he really needed were Claudia's diaries and maybe Sam's more poetic extrapolations. The "jury" had no idea what was happening anyway and were just doing call and response.

But Armand's got this whole love/hate obsession with Lestat, and I think the hate and resentment part of that obsession gives cause for Armand to want Lestat to be forced to witness in person the execution of his family. As far as the love part of the obsession, I think Armand hopes that once Lestat is left alone, he'll have no choice but to stay with Armand. Possibly there's a part of Armand that genuinely wants Lestat to see him as his avenger.

I do not believe Lestat was there willingly. I think, like in the books, he was imprisoned and starved to keep him weak, but he wasn't as completely incapacitated as he was in the books. Lestat agreed to read the lines and rehearse etc. because if he hadn't, they wouldn't have let him participate in the trial at all, and the trial was Lestat's only chance to even SEE Louis and Claudia, much less try to save either of them.

And once the trial starts, Lestat repeatedly tries to undermine it, but he's still walking a fine line because if he fucks with the coven too much, he might be removed and lose any chance he has to affect the outcome. I think we also might find out that he tried and failed a few other ways to save Louis AND Claudia.

Which brings me to the question of Lestat and Claudia. I do not believe Lestat ever wanted Claudia dead, though it's understandable to believe differently from what we've seen in the show so far. I do think we're going to find out that Lestat made one last ditch effort to save Claudia after Louis was dragged offstage, even if it was only to plead with Armand for her life. Armand's being the only version of that moment feels too juicy to not come back to it. That being said, it wouldn't surprise me to learn that Lestat prioritized saving Louis first, and that's one of the things that continues to haunt him after the trial about Claudia's death. Especially after all she says about it never being about her.

What I find really interesting is that when Louis is recounting the trial, he repeatedly insists that Lestat was there for revenge and that he believes Lestat helped orchestrate it. But in the flashbacks from Louis' memories, we also see Lestat is not having a good time and is somehow weakened, that something is not quite right with him.

It's one of my favorite examples of Louis reaching for the truth he knows is inside of him, inside his memories. That's why the revelation that Armand had directed the play and Lestat had saved him made such a huge impact. Those were the missing pieces of the puzzle, and they are what led him to recontextualize everything he already knew. Namely, if Lestat had saved him, he was never there for revenge. And his genuine contrition about the drop, his attempt to take some of the responsibility for Claudia's making, his unsteady and unhappy demeanor...they make sense because Louis realizes that Lestat was a prisoner during the trial, not Armand. I don't think Louis would have ever gone to find Lestat if he truly still believed that he organized Claudia's death or even agreed to it.

So back to Armand. I do actually think that Armand loved Louis. I've said before, when it comes to Armand, it's best to let go of reason and embrace the gremlin to understand his actions. I do think some of Armand's initial interest in Louis is specifically because he is Lestat's fledgling, but he did come to love Louis himself. And I think Louis came to love him. I know this is not a popular opinion, but hear me out.

First of all, I think Armand never let go of the idea that he was going to have to kill Louis. I think he always kinda saw his time with Louis as delaying the inevitable. But he did want Louis for himself, and so he kept buying more and more time. So when the coven confronted Armand, it didn't even feel to him like he was betraying Louis, so much as he'd run out of time to keep Louis alive. I think in Armand's mind, he genuinely didn't feel like he could prevent it.

As far as how Louis feels about Armand. I know I've seen people mention that the reason he can tell Armand, "I love you," is that he doesn't mean it. And I agree. I do not think Louis loves Armand during the events of "I Want You More Than Anything in the World." But season 2 takes place over several years, and I think Louis was able to find love for Armand.

However, because I love it when things are really fucked up, I think Louis only really started to let himself feel love for Armand after Armand left the coven for him after Louis turned Madeleine. Which is unfortunate because Armand was obviously lying his ass off about that.

But when we see them at the café, and Madeleine says she can feel Louis' love for Armand, we see a different reaction from Louis than in 2x04. He is more uncomfortable with the idea of it. I don't believe that Madeleine was misreading Louis or actually feeling his love for Lestat. I think Louis is uncomfortable because it is true.

I also think it's the first time Armand actually believes that Louis loves him. And because of that, I think that moment just before the coven descends on the café is the first time he even realizes that he had a choice in all of it. That he could have tried to save Louis.

If I'm right, UGH, so fucked up. I hope I'm right.

Anyway, I've rambled so fucking much. I don't even have a tl;dr because even *I* don't wanna have to read all that to summarize it properly. And I probably forgot some stuff, but let's all just be grateful for that.

Just to reiterate, this is all speculation. I could be very wrong, and I know there's stuff the cast has said that might indicate that I am, but I take stuff like that with a grain of salt, especially in this show.

[springcourthighlady]

Treacherous | Tamlin & Briar @thehighlordofspring

"Tamlin, wait--", she calls out softly as he heads toward his tent. She scrambles to her feet and rubs her arms a bit, picking up her cloak from where it fell on the ground.

"I don't ever want you to blame yourself for what happened to me. Lilly and me and the rest of The Blessed...we planned that trek. We went in the middle of the night. We climbed up the wall. It was our own actions that got us spotted by Hybern. Campfires and laughter...joy. We foolishly made ourselves targets. Regardless of anything happening on your side. He took us. He jailed us. He tortured us. And he used the Cauldron and killed us. Not you."

Taking a few steps closer, she raises her chin to meet his gaze. "You had nothing to do with that. You are a protector and a leader, and you would never let that happen to anyone if you could prevent it. When I was the last one left, shaking in that cell from shock and blood loss...you didn't walk by." She swallows hard. "You didn't...gawk or enjoy the sight of my pain or my ripped scraps of clothing. He could have killed you if he found out you were a plant and not an ally. And you still risked taking away my pain. So I don't ever want to hear you blaming yourself for what I went through. Okay? Promise me."

She holds his gaze, unwaveringly. "You did not condemn me. You are my savior. And one day...perhaps my friend. I didn't really have any stock in being human either. Both ways...my mom and my friends are dead. Lilly is dead", she says quietly. "Sometimes I wonder if I leaned on her too much in my grief when I lost my mother. She became my next everything, her and Caedin when he was born. I even helped deliver him, actually. And even though we had other friends...we were the closest. Like sisters, as I mentioned. Family by choice, not blood."

She sighs sadly. "I suppose now I have an eternity to maybe befriend others and attempt to try and live with myself. Being the one that lived, when she should be here to raise her son...the way he lost them both...", her throat bobs. "I'll make sure he has everything and knows about her...how much she loved him and wanted this amazing life for him. And I-I'll give him that. However I can. At least, if I can make it through the night here."

Her eyes shutter. "Hybern snatched us in our tents. In the forest. At night. So I... I'm having a really hard time right now. My brain knows he's dead. Obviously. But my body and my magic doesnt get the message that I'm safe, so...it's in total breakdown mode," she scoffs as she tries to hold back tears. "I will do my very best to stay quiet for you. So at least one of us can sleep."

[raayllum]

Callum is so right about Rayla never doing anything for herself. You could say freeing Runaan was for herself but she also treats it as her "sacred promise" and chose him for Ethari too (shows how great her heart is). You think sparing Callum will finally count as her doing something for herself? Choosing her future and her love for him over the "greater good". She couldn't get her og parents back‚ this girl keeps losing and suffering she seriously deserves more wins

God, I could write an entire meta about that line - maybe one day when I'm feeling self indulgent. In regards to your actual prompt, re: saving Callum will count as something for herself -- a big yes, absolutely, I think! Though I think freeing her parents is something she deeply wanted for herself, too ("I miss you so much" / "so I wanted to do something for yourself for you") even if it was something she was continually putting off till the Aaravos situation, as far as she knew, was resolved

Prior to S6 I went back and forth on whether the show would frame Rayla's end of the possession plot line / trying to get Callum back as either "It doesn't matter what happens to me (again) I just want to save him" (which is what leaving in TTM and other moments was about) OR whether it'd be framed as "I refuse to sacrifice him / something I want (again)" and therefore be character development. I leaned towards the latter for reasons outlined here since the two have the chance to be even more thematically codependent than they already are in terms of their senses of identity:

As long as Callum is Callum (not possessed, or she has reason to believe he’s still in there), Rayla likely won’t be able to bring herself to kill him. This is from an emotional / characterization standpoint, of course, but from a thematic standpoint, we can see where it stems from Callum and Rayla continually being each other’s main connection to their sense of identity. As long as Callum is Callum (“you’re the destiny is a book you write yourself guy”), he’s worth saving. As long as Callum is Callum, she can be Rayla (“Rayla’s brave. She saves people” / “Rayla. My name is Rayla, and I’m going home”). As long as she’s Rayla, he can be Callum. Because if Callum isn’t Callum, then he’s dead, and if he’s dead, she can kill him. And if Rayla kills him, if Callum is dead, then she won’t be Rayla anymore. Because to literally kill Callum would be to simultaneously symbolically/emotionally kill herself.

This goes both ways of course - Callum can't/won't sacrifice Rayla because to do so would be to sacrifice a fundamental part of himself (namely his deep and Pure devotion to others which means he'll never go entirely down the negative side of Viren's path, and keep to the positive - leaving Aaravos, breaking free, etc). This was subtext prior to S6, but now it's actual text (she's his light/truth/hope of salvation, etc) so it goes double going forward. This is true for Rayla too — Callum is her guiding light and her star, he's one of the people who's taught her the most about how to love and the person she wants to be.

With all that in mind, yeah, I do think that Rayla will choose to not sacrifice Callum for the right reasons. Part of this is scaffolded under witnessing Callum not sacrificing her No Matter What prior to her won choice, and realizing "what [she] most deeply desires" isn't just Callum's survival even, but specifically the life they can have together, which she needs to stick around for and thereby not sacrifice herself. Runaan is also explicitly remorseful over the actions he took towards her where he choose duty over love, so Rayla realizing she should choose love over duty ties into them growing together as well in a positive way. We also see her realize some of this I think in choosing to let Lain and Tiadrin stay together rather than separate them specifically because of the Moonphoenix bracelet Callum gave her as well.

"I risked losing the best thing I ever had" because of her own duty turned revenge vs "I refuse to lose either of us like this" and finally fully accepting an assassin was never who she was and never who she Should be, in sacrificing others' lives or her own included. Them both Choosing each other above everything else was exactly what I was hoping for as soon as the "I need you to kill me" plot line started / wrote in my first CHET fic pre-S4 years ago:

She has two options as she pulls away. She can make a grab for her swords and go out, swords blazing. Kill Viren or Aaravos if she can as the sky splits open, purple and thrumming with magic; die with a sword in her hand in all likelihood. The release spell has already started. Or she can help Callum up, and they can live to fight another day—together. Rayla grips the back of his jacket. Presses her forehead to his neck for a second, tears building her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she says. His arm tightens around her, like he’s braced for her to go. “Rayla—” “I’m so sorry,” she repeats, sobbing. This is all her fault, but she can’t do that to him. “We have to get out of here.” [...]

Callum is staring at her when she pulls back and she swallows hard. She doesn’t know what to say. It’s both a blessing and a curse when he speaks first. “You chose me,” he says, not quite softly; she can tell there’s a lump in his throat. An edge of anger that not doing so was even an option. “Yeah, well. It was about time,” she says quietly. “I—”

So uh, here's hoping!

[teecupangel]

Tee, help us settle a debate. Who is the worst Assassin's Creed father? (Not considering real life people like the Borgias)

We all know about Bill, but my choice is either Arbaaz or Nikolai. Arbaaz was willing to let Jayadeep fucking die because of the creed and Nikolai abused Innokenti that even Daniel got fed up with him.

Now, I don't know if "not knowing you're actually a father" actually qualifies as being a *bad* father, also I chose to believe that Desmond and Ezio would have been at least decent fathers to their illegitimate children had they known of them.

I also don't know if Vidic is a father but he'd be a shitty one.

I am totally not the right person to settle a debate considering I am completely bias towards Desmond so I feel obligated to pick Bill XD

As far as I know, Vidic doesn't have any children but he did say he thought of Daniel Cross like a son and he experimented and used him as a hunting dog so he doesn't have a good record.

I will say that there are a lot of bad fathers in AC. On the top of my head, I can think of at least 2 XD

Nikolaos tried to kill his oldest child while staying back and letting his youngest child die (the fact that both children lived doesn't really downplay his actions and inaction)

Poseidon (does he count as a historical figure?) is less of a bad dad and more of a neglectful dad who let his sons do whatever they want without realizing that some of them have been doing illegal shit to one up each other and become their father's successor.

I'm sure there are those who would say that Haytham Kenway should be counted as a bad father but there's a lot to unpack on that one.

But really the only way to settle a debate is via voting lol.

Reply on the comments who you guys think should be part of the poll. The only restriction is:

Said "not-based-of-a-historical-figure" bad dad must have, at the very least, tried to act like a parental figure to someone they perceived as their child (blood related not required) but failed due to being a bad father.

As of right now, the voting list would be:

Bill

Nikolai

Arbaaz

Nikolaos

We'll include Vidic and Poseidon if guys want to include them.

(If you want to nominate someone but don't want to leave a reply, you can leave an anonymous ask as long as you include in the ask that this is for the "Assassin's Creed Worst Dad Poll")

Ezio and Desmond will not be included because I agree that they would have been, at the very least, decent fathers had they been given a chance.

[youngestdaughtersyndrome]

sitting in bed eating cheese absolutely stewing

[yawn-emoji]

[chuluoyi]

fear

- gojo satoru x reader

his best friend’s defection is still a hard topic for him to swallow, and it leads into an unexpected argument that spurs you to leave, only to unlock a new fear in him when you get into an unfortunate accident afterwards.

genre/warnings: angst, gojo being mean, one scene with a worried nanami *wink*, injured reader, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end

notes: *sigh* my coping mechanism is still gojo’s past arc, which is why this piece takes place on that timeline. just a little context: reader is in the same class with nanami & haibara and was in the same mission that took haibara's life. this is probably the longest oneshot i've written so far sooo… enjoy! :)

general masterlist

A year and a half had passed since Suguru embarked on his path as a curse user. In that one year and a half, Satoru had finished his last year at Jujutsu High, and now was in the halls of his alma mater, speaking to the newly appointed headmaster who was none other than his teacher.

"You're applying to become a teacher?" Yaga asked again with a frown. He still couldn't wrap his head around it. Granted, he was his most troublesome pupil. "Why, Satoru?"

"If I said it's because I want to train young sorcerers to be strong, would you believe me?"

That was not a lie. It was actually 50% of his main reasons anyway. The other 50% was to repent what he missed with Suguru when he chose his dark path—his contempt with the current system of this jujutsu world.

"I would," Yaga responded gruffly. To him, Satoru was irritating, but he also knew that he was also extremely capable, and thus everything he did wasn't just out of nowhere. "But you still have to submit your applications. We can't make an exception even if you come from a prestigious clan."

"That's fine with me," he grinned. "Thanks, sensei."

On summer days, he'd get reminded of Suguru and silly things they had done together. Eating shaved ice, cycling together, driving either you, Shoko or Nanami mad. Satoru missed those days, it hadn't been the same ever since. Not knowing if his best friend was alright—if he was still alive at all—was exhausting.

Sometimes, he felt like he was the only one who was affected by his departure, the only one who stayed right where Suguru left him. Shoko didn't seem ruffled, if anything she just went to more bars and pachinko parlors as of late. Nanami was always a recluse, he never disclosed his feelings. You mourned him, but it was clear that most part of you would always be more focused on Haibara's death.

Satoru understood that he couldn't force anyone to feel what he felt, and he had no right to. But sometimes, he just wanted someone to connect with at his level. Someone to get him just like Suguru did.

And so when he got back to his condo that night—just right next to the one he rented for Megumi and Tsumiki, since he had moved out of his dorm—to find his girlfriend there with a big smile and a tray of cupcakes, unaware of everything and anything, he merely scoffed to himself.

"Satoru, you're back," you acknowledged, beaming like the sunshine you were. "I just baked these for the kids. Do you want some?"

Usually he'd smother you, throw some pickup lines here and there and say yes, but today, he just felt drained. "No." And with that, he stalked away to the bathroom, not glancing back at you.

It was wrong. But tonight he just wanted some peace and quiet, and so keeping his silence seemed to be the best choice as he didn't want to start a pointless argument with you. But you weren’t anything but observant, and definitely noticed that something was amiss with him.

"Are you... alright?" You approached him warily after he came out of the bathroom with wet hair. "Where were you today?"

"Just somewhere," he replied curtly. Afterwards he turned on the hairdryer, drowning the whole place with the noise even as you stood behind him with a visible question mark.

But you were still there after he dried his hair. "Is something bothering you?" you asked with a tilt of your head, concerned. By all means, you mean well. You just wanted to know if he could use your help at all.

When you pulled that expression, he couldn't help feeling annoyed, like he wanted you to take a hint, but you just didn't. "If you know, then just shut it."

It was probably the first time since the two of you got together that Satoru actually said something harsh. But you still tried to be reasonable though, bless you.

"Satoru, I don't know what got into your nerves like this, but I think sleeping through it might help. Have a rest."

"Why are you talking as if you know it?" he snapped, finally turning to you with his cold gaze. "You might not know anything, so don't be a know-it-all. Just mind your own business."

Now you were frustrated with his reply. "Once again, I don't know what happened to you. But if you're taking it out on me because I'm the closest you have—"

"Who said that?" Satoru didn't know where he got all this venom from. It was just at the forefront of his mind and he just got the urge to spew it. "You're considering yourself��closest to me? Where did you get that big head from?"

You were aghast, and you blinked a few times to get your bearings. "Let me guess, it's about Geto-san, isn't it? Or the higher ups. Either of that must be what causing you to blindly place your anger on me."

"So what if it was? It isn't like you'll understand anyway."

"Satoru," you started, trying to even your breathing. "What happened to Geto-san isn't your fault. I've been telling you this. It can't be helped—"

"Can't be helped?" he jeered. "Do you know why it has come to this?" his tone took a dangerous edge as he stepped closer. He reached for you, grasping your wrist.

"Maybe because I was too blind back then. If it weren't for you—if only I didn't spend that much time on you, maybe he would still be here."

Did he just say that? Did he just imply that he had regretted the two of you getting together?

You felt your lower lip start to tremble and something seemed to obscure and blur your vision, making it hard to see him clearly. "You... don't mean that."

"Really?" the corner of his lips curled into a disparaging smile. "You never know. Before you know it, this can be over already. After all, I could have anyone out there that I want. Maybe someone less nosey than—”

That did it. You wrenched your arm out of his grip violently, as your first tear fell. His smirk vanished too, replaced with a total stillness to cover his sudden panic that was followed by a sudden sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach.

"You selfish, self-obsessed jerk," you hissed through watery eyes. He was taken aback, even amidst your anger and possible fear of him, your still managed to throw daggers at him. "Fine. You have it. I'll see myself out."

Satoru never wanted you to leave. Honestly, he would've made you stay. But he wasn't in the right state of mind and it was too late to take back what he said. He didn't want to mess this up even further.

You left the cupcakes, even throwing it away just to spite him. Driven by pain and humiliation, you choked back your sob and didn't spare a glance at him as you shut the door.

Peace and quiet. There he had it, he thought as he clenched his fists, at the cost of everything else.

Leaving that condo, every step you took felt like needles piercing your shattered heart. You wiped your tears roughly. No, you refused to cry over such asshole. He made it clear, didn't he? Whatever it was that you two shared, it was at the cost of his best friend leaving him. So now the blame was on you.

If you were thinking clearly, you would've understood that his words were likely a result of his own pent-up pain and frustration that he had kept to himself for some while. But you had no patience for that or even pinpoint what you felt right now—anger, disappointment or dread, or perhaps all three. You just felt wrongly accused.

Your feet brought you back to your dorm in the school. Now it wasn't as bustling as it once were. After Satoru and Shoko's graduation, you didn't really get close to anyone. There was Ichiji, but he treated you more like a mentor rather than a classmate.

As you sank into the comforts of your bed, You replayed the events, trying to find where it went wrong—and found nothing. After all, you had already said all that could be said. It wasn't just him who lost Geto, but you, Shoko and Nanami did too, but it was more convenient for Satoru to blame everyone else rather than trying to understand that they too shared this pain.

Nevertheless, you were disappointed. You didn't expect half of what he spouted, and it got you doubting everything you had.

"You've royally fucked up."

Satoru exhaled, glaring at Shoko through the corner of his eyes. "Yeah, maybe."

The reverse cursed technique user threw him a blank stare, taking in everything from his disheveled hair to his wrinkled trousers. "Gojo, as much as I can’t care less about your sorry ass, I'm saying this not out of concern for you, but rather for Y/N. You are an asshole."

The puff of smoke she blew expanded to create a cloud-like shape. "Yaga-sensei was our teacher. His student is now a mass murderer and wanted dead. Can you even imagine how he feels? And I can't believe I'm saying this—but weren't there three of us?"

A week had gone by and instead of doing the right thing like trying to get into your good graces, Satoru was in Shoko's infirmary in the headquarters instead. He didn't exactly know what he was looking for by going here. Maybe some lingering taste of his happier student days, and Shoko was the only one remaining.

Three of us, huh... she was right. That was precisely why he came here after all.

"You're just sulking because it seems no one cares about your best friend being the best there is. But have you thought about how our juniors also lost Haibara? Right in front of their eyes? Haibara was our friend too."

He was wrong, of course he was. Satoru realized that now. But it felt wrong to ask for your forgiveness now, not to mention the disrupting thought he had—should he let you go for good altogether?

The phone suddenly rang with such fervor that made Shoko utter a swear word. She was on call duty for the rescue team today, and it was supposedly a peaceful day until Satoru decided to barge in to become her company. "Hello? Ichiji? What—speak clearly, I can't hear you."

She switched it to loudspeaker. "...iri-san! Ieiri-san—h-help—please—"

It was noisy, and blaring at the same time, and Ichiji was... Sobbing? Choking? His voice was terribly muffled and—

"L/N-san!" he cried, and Satoru remembered at that moment that you should be in a mission with Ichiji, he remembered you telling him before.

"Hic—s-she fell... hic—she fell! B-blood! She i-is bleeding so much! I-Ieiri-san—hic—s-send help! Please!"

"Hey, stay awake. Breathe. Just breathe."

Everything hurt. Most notably, your head. You could hardly think straight when all you felt was blinding pain and how your breaths came in short wheezes. 

Your vision was blurry. The numbness had started to set in and chills ran up and down your spine. You couldn't make out who in front of you was. Was it Ichiji, who went with you in this mission? The only thing that glared was blue.

"You can't sleep, you hear me?" the voice was commanding, willing you to do his bidding. It was familiar, but usually his tone of voice was much lighter, happier.

Satoru.

But why was he here? He wasn't in this mission. It was supposed to be a mission for you and Ichiji.

You remembered getting the cursed spirit after manifesting your domain expansion, until in its last ditch attempt, it went after Ichiji. You had no choice—even when your cursed energy had burned out, you still shoved him away at the cost of being flung from the top of a building.

Not again. Not after Haibara. You’d gladly pay the price if it meant you didn't have to see anyone die in front of you again.

"I..." You managed to croak out—breathing hurt, and you felt your hands being grasped tightly.

"Hey, just breathe. Y/N. Look at me.” Through your blurry haze, you focused on that cold blue, and you saw him. Satoru's sharp eyes, pursed lips and frown. He's really here.

Satoru always said that if there was a cursed spirit apocalypse, then Ichiji would be the first to die. You used to scold him for that, but now as you a laid here possibly dying in your own pool of blood, you found it to be true.

Yet at the same time you knew that with him here, Ichiji must be safe already, and it gave you reassurance so great even when you were on the verge of dying. "I... can't..."

"Yes, you can. Just look at me," he firmly rebuked, his voice came out in a hiss. For all the time you had been with him, you had never heard him so forceful. "If you close your eyes now, I won't forgive you. So please, just hang in there."

It was a struggle to take in any air and darkness encroached on your vision as your consciousness began slipping away.

And everything faded to nothingness.

Satoru honestly thought he had no fears. His worst fear had fully realized after all—Suguru going away into the darkness. What more could he possibly fear?

But when he heard Ichiji's distress call for rescue team, about how you fell from a rooftop of a building and unconscious, he realized that it was a fear he didn't know existed. His mind got disoriented and he teleported to the scene on impulse. He just had to see it for himself. With their petty argument still lacking closure, he felt even worse.

And the sight before him gave him so much fright he never thought was possible.

It was a mistake, he should have brought Shoko along.

You had laid there like a broken doll, your eyes dimmed, and not been able to breathe. He desperately tried to keep you awake, his presence beside you, yet it didn't seem to matter. He watched helplessly as you passed out in his arms.

Satoru felt nothing. The panic that had set in was suddenly gone as your limp body slumped against him, replaced by incessant ringing in his ears and tremor wracking his nervous system. It wasn't long until the rescue team came to retrieve you and even then he still felt numb. He rejected the idea that you might possibly die on him.

That went on until Shoko, who assisted in the emergency treatment, came out of the surgery, sweat on her forehead.

"It's even worse than the aftermath of the guardian deity mission last year," Shoko explained with a grim expression. "Her brain has sustained damage and it affects everything. It may take her quite a while before she can go back to the field."

When she said that, Satoru felt terror washed over him again. You almost died—was all he perceived.

The two of you had no contact for a week just because of his ego. He could still recall that day with vivid clarity, feeling a burning ache in his chest. If someone were to ask him what heartbreak was like, now he certainly would he able the to tell them the two instances in which he experienced them. What he felt now mirrored the same stinging sensation he had felt when Suguru left him.

He visited you when he was allowed to, and you were still unconscious, with many machines connected to your body. It was a sight he still couldn’t bring himself to get used to. He had seen you injured before, but never seen you in your own pool of blood, so this made him feel sick to his stomach.

"Stupid," he whispered, gently rubbing your forehead. His eyes remained fixated on you as you rested, his insides still churning with emotions. "You're not weak, and you're not hopeless." Once upon a time, Satoru might have thought of you as weak, but now he knew better.

"So why you always pick the worst decision?" The more he thought this could've been avoided, the more irked he was. The thought that he could have done something to prevent it intensified the sting of guilt, and he continued to punish himself with it.

And the more he dwelled on the idea that he had hurt you prior to this, the tighter his breath became.

But that was who you were. Self-sacrificing to a fault. And he loved you for that. There was no way of him letting you go now.

It astonished even himself—that he was capable of this love thing. At first it was an attraction, but now that you had been going on for more than a year, it felt like it was no longer a silly infatuation after all.

"Hurry and wake up, will you?" Satoru gently brushed your hair aside, his eyes fixed on you. He didn't know it even as his gut twisted, his frown deepened and his touch quivered, that he was worried sick. "I have a lot to make up for."

And he left you with a tender brush of his lips against your forehead.

Nanami Kento was the first person you saw when you awoke from coma.

You struggled to regain your senses, still feeling absolutely broken. The dull throb on the back of your head was still there, and as if you had found yourself trapped in a fog, you were only able to move sluggishly.

"You're awake?" his gruff voice greeted, laced with concern. In his hand were a bucket of fresh flowers and fruits basket, which he soon placed at the table next to your bed.

It was unexpected, because ever since the tragedy that costed Haibara's life, the two of you had been drifting apart.

You nodded, and let out a hum in response—all you could manage at the moment.

"Thank God." Nanami sounded relieved as he pinched the bridge between his eyes, and you were moved that he had shown this degree of concern.

Your remaining classmate, who suffered the burden of Haibara's life just like you. He was always quiet or brooding somewhere, hiding his own feelings.

You felt tears pricking the corner of your eyes. The fact that he visited you meant that he hadn't decided to cut you out of his life yet.

"Gojo-san is out today, but he'll be back by afternoon," he said, mistranslating your tears as some sort of a want to have your annoying—ex?—boyfriend at your side.

The two of you were still not on talking terms, weren’t you?

You so badly wanted to say thank you to him—and tell him that no, you weren't looking for Satoru—but it came out hoarse and barely above a whisper.

"Huh?" Nanami then realized what you were trying to say, and a faint smile graced his lips. "Just... get well soon, L/N. Have a good rest."

Just before you drifted back to sleep, you could hear him sigh and mutter, "Hello, Gojo-san? L/N has awakened. Just letting you know is all.”

You weren't sure how much time had passed when you woke up the second time, but the curtains were already drawn and only darkness came from the window. Your body felt lighter, but you still felt like a mess and and couldn't help but groan in discomfort.

Satoru was there, he perked up at the noise you made. And you realized that it was the first time in about a week that he faced you after that disasterous almost-breakup.

He walked up to you, his expression was more hopeful than you had ever seen him before, like a kid whose wish had been granted. He slowly shifted to sit beside you.

"Hey, welcome back." His voice was soft. It was a change of pace for him, as you were used to seeing him all loud and silly.

Now your voice no longer sounds like a lead. "Hey."

"How are you feeling?" he asked and you took a moment to look at him. He was smiling, but exhaustion reached his bright eyes, dimming them. "You know, with the whole you passing out and almost dying thing?"

His words were almost humorous as he spoke, like he didn't know what else to say except try to lighten the mood, but there was also a strain on his tone, like he was holding back.

"I'm quite fine now, I suppose..." You still felt the lingering pain and dizziness as you slowly sat up. Satoru reached out to steady you—and you realized how his fingers trembled when they made contact with your body—as his brows furrowed with worry when you winced.

"You don't look like it though." His voice dropped and the humor was gone, replaced by this haunted look. You blinked. It was probably the first time you had seem him this ruffled.

He immediately pulled you into a hug, cradling your head to his neck gently, as if to protect and shield you from the world altogether. Exhaling heavily, he leaned on you. "You scared me, you know that?"

You wondered out loud if you really had that hold over him. "Did I?"

"You can't do that to me, you hear?" Satoru stroked your hair, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck. His voice quivered. “Don't ever do that again.”

He pulled you tighter against him, but still careful not to crush you.

You let out a snicker, letting go of everything you felt during this horrible week. "Heh, afraid to lose me, huh?"

"Shut up,” he grumbled. “What were you thinking anyway? How did you calculate that freefalling is better than letting that cursed spirit attack Ichiji?”

"He was defenseless. He could die, you know that."

"And you also can," he quipped, upset, pulling away enough to look you squarely in the eyes, his eyes devoid of any expression, yet filled with a raging wave that you could only interpret as undiluted concern.

The emphasis in his tone made you recoil and feel guilty. If you were in his shoes, you probably would've said the same thing and so you had nothing to say to that.

But the more pressing agenda in the list was the unspoken silent treatment the two of you saw fit to use against each other for the last few days. Satoru was the one who decided to address it first.

"About that night..." he faltered, looking away. "I didn't mean what I said. I'm sorry."

Satoru always had trouble processing emotions. This time too. He must've a hard time dealing with the anxiety caused by the possibility of him losing you for good, no matter how much he tried to be unaware of it.

"..." You wanted to respond, to make him understand your point, but somehow right now you were just too weary. And he sensed your reluctance. So you blurted the first thing that gnawed at your mind.

“You said you could have any other women out there—”

"No, really—" he started to panic, and it was blatantly too, which surprised you. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Us. I don't regret anything. I’m not breaking up with you. Being with you is the happiest I've been ever since Suguru left."

“That's...” you blinked, before letting out a small sigh. “Okay. Fine then. Let's just put it behind us for now.”

“I—” he almost wheezed, his bright blue eyes were overtaken with sheer urgency to explain how wrong everything had been that night. “You must know that I didn’t mean any of it. And that I hate hurting you the way I did. I won’t—”

"Satoru, I understand," you let out another sigh, fidgeting with your fingers. "Sometimes when I’m reminded of Haibara, I also get sad. I don't want to presume but I think I know how you feel. Just next time, maybe," you shifted your gaze on him, seeing how you had his attention fully. Gojo Satoru, the strongest now, was looking at you as if you had his fate in your hands. "Just tell me if you need space and I would have understood."

"Yeah, okay, sure," he responded immediately, relieved, before a lopsided grin appeared on his face, turning him back into your dork slash boyfriend. "So, am I forgiven now?"

"A thank you would be nice."

In the end, he chuckled, seemingly resigned. "You should sleep more."

He positioned himself into bed next to you, and you let him pull you into his chest again. You could feel how his taut back started to relax upon the contact. He pressed his lips on your forehead in a fleeting kiss.

"Promise me you won't pull that stunt again.”

You smirked. "I can't. What if Ichiji—"

"Then just let him die."

You swatted his arm playfully, pressing your head to his chest as he continued to run his fingers on your hair. He cushioned you carefully, and you felt the tension in him slowly melt away with each breath you took. In your mind, you figured he needed this closeness more than you did, if anything, for the sake of his sanity.

“I love you,” he whispered by your ear, kissing it lightly.

“Mmhm.”

As you felt Satoru's calming presence, it helped ease you into slumber. You soon found yourself in a deep sleep, comfortably held in his embrace.

Epilogue

Ichiji gulped as Satoru stared him down, sizing him up as if he was the most despicable creature on this planet.

Okay, he might be. He was a coward, all he could do was trembling in the face of evil. But he had come in peace, even bringing fruits as an offering! He felt bad too that he was the partial cause for you to be this injured.

He was used to Satoru terrorizing him—calling him names, slapping him, and whatnot—and he could take it. Just this time, he really looked like he could murder him on the spot if he wanted to. A small part of Ichiji mourned that you were his girlfriend, because that pretty much sealed his fate that Gojo Satoru could indeed murder him on the spot because he had a valid enough reason to.

"You are—"

"No! I'm sorry, Gojo-san! I'm sorry for my incompetence!"

"Hah?"

If he was mildly irked before, now Satoru was visibly irritated.

"You're not cut out to be a jujutsu sorcerer," he started. "You're useless. You just get in the way most of the time."

Ichiji kept his head down. No, no. He can't cry!

"Get your driving license or I'll slap the shit out of you."

"Oh?" and before he knew it, Satoru had stalked away, leaving him in the dust. How rude! But...

Get a driver license? Quit the jujutsu work?

Hey, that sounds like something I can do!

[tender-rosiey]

hiii this is my first time requesting so i dont know how specific or vague i should get :,) but maybe a scenario between sukuna and reader on how their wedding ceramony(and maybe afterparty) went? i saw an edit of sukuna with lana del rey’s margaret and immediately thought you could write this scenario since all of your husband!sukuna works are chef’s kiss “:D

true oath — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: so glad you like my husband!sukuna works anon and I hope you like this as well 🥹 ALSO special thanks to @lexiene and @camelnose for beta-reading BIG HUGS TO BOTH OF YOU SRSLY MWUAHHH

the servants scurry all around the room, trying to finish as much as possible in the time frame they have been given.

meanwhile, you are sat in front of your vanity with your personal maid who is putting the final touches to your makeup. you let out a soft giggle at the franticness of the others then look at the mirror to examine yourself.

the kimono had been handpicked by sukuna himself, something he believed was only logical—given that, according to him, nobody knows you as well as he does, and of course, that you’re getting married to him.

you thought he was being overconfident in his abilities, but to your surprise, he really did end up choosing something that—both—fit you well and you liked very much.

though, you wouldn’t tell him that. you wonder what his reaction would be to how you actually look in it, especially since you barely made him agree to not seeing you until the ceremony.

“no.”

“sukuna, come on,” you huffed, clinging onto his arms, “it’s a tradition!”

“I don’t care about traditions, you know that,” he replied simply and carried you in his arms.

you pouted and rested your head on his shoulder, looking up at him with your best puppy eyes, “please, honey?”

he looks at you for a few moments before clicking his tongue and looking away, “fine.”

“yay!”

you let out a chuckle at the memory and are interrupted by the door opening. the servant at the door is heavily panting as he speaks, “the l—lord demands to begin the ceremony right now.”

one of the maids looks at him incredulously, “what?! we still have much to prefer like the pathway to his highness and the food!”

the servant nods in understanding, “I know I swear,” he gulps, “but he is getting real impatient and has expressed the need to see her highness more than once.”

you roll your eyes and stand up, “well, tell him that we will be on our way.”

the main maid gasps, “but my lady—”

“don’t fret,” you smile, “if he asks about the unfinished tasks and preparations, I will tell him that you were working on it, but his insistence on speeding things up halted you from your duty, understood?”

they all nod hesitantly. you clap your hand and grin, “well then, lets go! I am excited to see my dear future husband.”

the maids smile nervously, still trying to come to terms with your marriage to sukuna. staying by his side as his lover is one thing, but to officially be declared his wife?

they have come to the conclusion that either you are as crazy as him underneath or you simply managed to tame him—to an extent at least.

you finally exit your room, and as you walk down the hallways, servants clear the way for you, bowing their heads as they offer you their blessings.

you look around the halls, finding them decorated with flowers already, so they are probably talking about the path in the main room.

the flowers are all of your choice, and it fills you with a sense of joy that each one that you pointed out on your outings with sukuna has been placed meticulously in the arrangement that litter the halls.

you slow down your pace, partially to soak in the view a bit more and partially to tease sukuna who is probably waiting with the last smidge of patience he can manage.

sukuna, who is sat on his throne, hand on his knee as he tapped it in waiting. he knows what you’re doing. you have always tried to test just how much you can get away with, which is admittedly a lot at this point.

for example, the first time you did something that he considered audacious is when you were strolling the gardens when you first came to the palace.

you were faced with sukuna who was stood in the place where you usually lounged.

it irked you cause he had the entire garden but chose the most secluded spot—which was usually where you sat so the servants can forget about doing any chores.

you frowned, “that is my spot.”

he quirked an eyebrow but didn’t look back at you. he let out a chuckle, “and this entire palace is mine.”

“nice try,” you quipped, “but I know the palace belongs to sukuna, the king of curses.”

at that, he turned to look at you. he leaned back against the tree, arms crossed and a cold stare on his face, “and who do you think I am, human?”

“oh—shit, okay,” you spluttered, “so you’re sukuna? you look more handsome than I thought.”

a smirked plays at the corner of his lips.

he didn’t reply to you, and you—rightfully—thought that you have dug your own grave. you started to shift your footing from your tip toes to your heel, and you looked away.

he stood up, an amused smile on his face, and he passed you, “I am expecting more from you, so don’t disappoint me.”

you tilted your head, watching his retreating figure. he had left one last comment, “but the next time I see you, I expect you to kneel at my presence.”

that was the moment that sukuna started wanting to see more of you, to see how far you could go. it was a new thing to amuse himself with, so it was more than welcome.

he just doesn’t know when it started being the other way around, because you, in fact, did not kneel.

instead, you started treating him like someone who you genuinely enjoyed their company, and it threw him off slightly; however, that is one of the reasons why he is currently waiting for you, his bride to appear.

the door finally opens, and it reveals you.

sukuna’s heart doesn’t skip a beat at how the kimono fit you exactly how he thought, how your make up was simply perfect, nor how the smile on your lips exuded both happiness and mischief.

what sukuna feels instead is booming pride.

you were always his, since the moment you entered the palace, before he even laid eyes on you. but this silly tradition simply solidifies it even more in the eyes of the others.

he smirks as you finally stand in front of him. you can barely contain your grin, “hello, future husband.”

he didn’t think that a tie to him would ever make somebody so joyed. he smirks at you, patting his lap, “you should know by now that I know you best, you silly woman.”

instantly, your expression falls, and you retort, “way to ruin the mood, king.”

amusement glints in his eyes, and he pulls you close to him, “don’t you ever get tired of giving me attitude? you ought to learn your place.”

“is it not by your side, my lord?” you hum, and he chuckles, content when you finally settle on his lap.

“damn audacious woman,” he looks up at the servants that fill the room.

they are all bowing, some trembling, others alienly still. then there is you who is swinging her feet as she sits on the lap of the king of curses.

he lets out a small breath then speaks loudly, “get the rings.”

in a moment, a servant comes in, carrying a cushion where two golden rings lay. your eyes widen at the sheer amount of patterns of gems on one of the rings.

the servant kneels in front of you two, and sukuna takes the ring decorated with gems in one hand and your hand in another. it slips perfectly onto your finger, and you raise your hand.

you feel your jaw slack a bit at how intricately made it is. and upon closer inspection, you see that one of the patterns is actually sukuna’s name.

you look up at him, and he is already looking at you with a small smirk and a confident look, “you should see the look on your face,” he muses.

he takes your hand into his and raises it slightly.

he examines it quietly before letting go. you blink confused but shrug the thought of your mind. you hold his hand in yours gently, and you put the ring on him.

his ring, contrary to yours, is a lot minimal. it’s a simple golden band, but what surprises you is that your name is etched on the surface.

“sukuna, my name…?”

he looks at the ring on his finger and flexes his hand. he looks at you simply says, “figured you would like something like this.”

you smile widely and giggle, “you know, people usually carve the name of the inside.”

“and I am not usual, am I?”

you nod gently and lean against his chest, “no, you’re not.”

you honestly didn’t know what to expect from a wedding ceremony in the ryomen sukuna “style”. however, sukuna was set on…standing out and making it a memorable event.

the room was flooded with servants carrying trays upon trays of food—all which you have noticed were your favorite—and dancers that put one of the most fascinating shows you’ve seen.

you gape at how they make their moves so effortless, which you can see through just how much practice was put into it.

you look at sukuna, and you seem him smirking down at you, clearly proud of the reaction the show has gotten out of you.

“how—how long have you been preparing for this?” you ask the man.

he glances at the dancers then replies, “6 months; I needed it to be perfect, and these humans take so long to learn things.”

“also, I know that the show I organized is great—“ he says before holding your chin and making you face him, “but that enamoured face should be directed at none other than me, got it?”

you nod frantically, not out of fear, but he is staring directly into your eyes in a way that simply is far too intense. he releases your chin, humming in satisfaction.

the dance finally comes to a close, and everybody in the room bows down to the both of you.

uraume speaks up from beside you—when did they get there—head held down humbly, “it is time for you to exchange vows, my lord and m’lady.”

vows? sukuna prepared vows?

tilting your head in confusion, you look at sukuna, and he is already looking at you. he rolls his eyes, “I didn’t prepare anything, brat; don’t get ahead of yourself.”

okay, that tracks. you give him a thumbs up.

but he is quiet for a moment before speaking up, “I have no need for that; all that you need to is that,” he leans closer to you, "you are mine, entirely and without exception, in every breath you take,” he spoke lowly against your lips, “I won’t let you forget that.”

he lets out a breath of amusement at the way your eyes widen and the glimmer behind them. he wastes no time in locking his lips with you, sealing your contract for life.

—

“wooo! I am married!” you say drunkenly, giggling and swaying slightly beside your now husband.

you whip your head back at him, almost falling in the process but his hand easily steadies you, “sukuna, I am married!”

“I know,” he replies, eyeing the empty cup that was full of sake. he hums, “uraume, what was the intensity in the sake?”

they both glance at you, standing on top of a table, babbling a kind of song about your marriage and being a queen now.

you nearly trip on the covers, but sukuna nods for uraume to stop your fall. they hold you up with one hand, maintaining a safe distance, so sukuna doesn’t get protective.

“high, my lord.”

you keep giggling and squealing, and he sighs, “certainly looks like it.”

he rests his chin on his palm, watching your figure run around and keeping an eye for you. however, in the corner of his eyes, he spots a couple of men staring at you, eyes full-blown and open.

it irks him that even after that display, they still dare to look at what belongs to him.

with minimal effort, he flicks his finger, and their heads go flying to the corner of the room. some of the blood splatters onto the floor, but he pays it no mind.

“ooo, red wine!”

“don’t you dare drink that, you stupid woman!”

after a while you find yourself laid down on the bed, head dazed as you try to make sense of your surroundings. you can hear a door closing, and some heavy footsteps getting closer and closer.

finally, your husband comes into view with his arms crossed. you pull on his sleeve gently, “what about the after-party?”

he sits down beside you, and you take the chance to lay your head on his lap. he allows it but grunts in response, “after-party with you all delirious like this?”

“I am fine!” you protest, huffing and giving him the most intimidating glare you can muster.

he simply flicks your forehead, and you yelp, shielding your face away from him, “you’re so rude!”

“pretty sure, you aren’t supposed to reply your king and husband like that,” he states. he squishes your face with one hand and quirks an eyebrow, “you’re testing your limits.”

“I don’t care!”

“oh?”

you note the change of tone almost instantly, and it is enough to sober you up.

you look up, wide-eyed at him, and on his face is a devious smirk, and behind his eyes are thoughts that are probably going to be the end of you tonight.

he leans down slightly, “I have a different kind of after-party in mind,” one of his hands trails to hold your wrist, “which I think you will quite like,” you try resisting for even a second, but you’re no match for him, “starting now.”

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do not copy or plagiarize or I will put you on gege's list

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[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPxDC prompt. Home?

Ever since everyone in the Fenton family found out that Danny Fenton is Danny Phantom, there have been constant guests at Maddie and Jack's house.

...More specifically, they were visited literally every day by members of the Justice League.

Superman came in the evenings with freshly baked apple pie, the frightening silhouette of Batman appeared in the corner of the kitchen with a basket of top-quality cookies with chocolate chips in the mornings, Aquaman and Flash showed to do movie marathons on the fenton couch, Wonder Woman came to chat with Jazz and Danny over a cup of tea and Shazam always was with her to hang out with children too.

It seemed sweet, but it was not necessary. Jack and Maddie handled the situation well on their own!

~~~~~

Maddie: I'm sorry, sir, we appreciate your care and help but you and your colleagues really shouldn't come every day. You must have other things to do. Phantom may be a ghost but he was our son. Danny is..well, he was, such a good kid. I don't think it's going to hurt us.

Nightwing: I'm sorry? Mrs, with all due respect, no one was worried about your safety from the very beginning.

Red Hood *stops washing dishes*: Wing's right. Your safety was the last thing we thought about when we decided to keep an eye on Phantom. But the safety of the league's members is a constant priority. Honestly, I don't understand why Danny keeps calling this place home but it's his damn choice, and we'll be here as long as he needs us. So do not create more problems, hunters.

~~~~~

The Justice League understands that their ghost boy is ready to forgive Jack and Maddie a lot because he loves his parents. But the members of the justice League themselves are not ready to do the same. They still remember all the nightmares that kept the boy awake at night, and the wary look on his face that he still shows at every checkup in the medical bay, and tears of happiness when Batman informed him that the anti-ecto laws had finally been repealed.

~~~~~

Not all of them were mother hens like Bruce but they also couldn't help but worry when Danny either excitedly or fearfully said that his parents were waiting for him at home so he couldn't stay with them for long after school. They couldn't let the child think that he would have to confront them alone.

Of course, they did not try to send the boy's parents to prison and did not even insist on depriving them of their parental rights, but only because it would break Danny's heart. But they had read all the plans of their experiments, they had read all their hypotheses about the Phantom and therefore could not leave the boy alone with them.

So now the team had not only a Watchtower duty schedule but also a schedule of who would look after Danny at the Fenton house.

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

Relistening to Checking Out, and I’ve always liked this scene in particular, as it is one that’s very open to interpretation.

I believe, from what I’ve seen personally at least, one or the most common interpretations is that Helen’s observation is either incorrect, or intentionally misleading, and that Jon’s response actually stems from touch aversion, or a degree of it, attributed to his trauma, particularly moments where he’s been left helpless and at the whims of others. E.g. Kidnapped by the Circus, almost killed by Daisy etc. And while I think this interpretation is both interesting and plausible, I don’t think I’ve seen much for the opposite interpretation, which is that Helen’s observation is correct.

It can be difficult to talk about Jon’s humanity sometimes, as there’s a lot of nuance and layers to cover. The fact is, Jon, especially in season five, does not completely think like a human. He is simultaneously a painfully human character such with deep compassion and guilt and self-loathing, while also being a being of immense knowledge who sees and understands the world in a different light, and in a way no one else can possibly comprehend, which has to be very isolating all things considered.

As with everything in TMA, Jon makes a choice, and his choice is to end the apocalypse, to stay with Martin, and to stay as human as he possibly can. We know from Annabelle that had she have taken Martin, who is presumably acting as one of his main anchors to humanity, Jon potentially would have snapped completely, the final push over the edge as she puts it. It has to be a difficult thing for him, to try and balance his existence when he is so fundamentally changed, and when this world naturally feels right to him, and you could argue that him snapping at the mother here is simply his instinct, being what he is.

He is The Archivist, the meant-to-be Pupil of the Eye, one of the most important beings present, and so it makes sense there’s almost an instinctive detachment from the victims. He is meant to Watch them, and Watching means no physical interaction. By touching him, the mother has broken this barrier, and so, instinctually, he reacts — with anger, notably.

I’d say it’s meant to contrast how we see him acting prior to the touch, where he seems genuinely sympathetic with the mother, and he is trying to help in what little way he can. Because before she touches him, that gap between Watched and Watcher is still firm in place, and so he can handle that.

Bearing in mind, I haven’t re-listened to the rest of season five with this, so I may have missed something.

I also think both interpretations can co-exist too, and that could be just as interesting to explore. Either way, I find that, with Jon, it’s important to consider his status in the Eyepocalypse and his nature vs his choices, although, his nature vs his choices goes for the whole series I think, as choice is such a consistent theme in TMA and in the Avatars.

[timmydraker]

Tim begins to distance himself from his family after Damian becomes Robin.

It was obvious in the way he ran off to rescue Bruce, but that was more of a physical thing at the end of the day. He was desperate and had lost any kind of safety net and support he had after Dick threatened Arkham and how badly he hurt Alfred with his instance that Bruce was alive.

Either way he was going to get Bruce back, if not because he felt like he was an aimless, nothing human being without Batman then there was that he wanted to be believed.

Then Dick handed over Robin to Damian who at that point genuinely despised Tim, though there was also a level of jealously in the young Wayne’s mind at the intelligence and analytical Tim.

It was then that Tim decided he would bring Bruce back and then do his own thing, outside of Robin and outside of Batman.

He clearly had done his job hadn’t he? Sure Bruce was dead, but Dick was acting as Batman and that Batman had a Robin, so his reasoning for being Robin was extinguished.

Tim brings Bruce back and the older man praises and thanks him for several days and then, like everything else, the attention moves away. It goes to him connecting with Damian on a vigilante level and catching up on the last several months of him being ‘dead’. It goes to Jason who, now that he’s lost his foster father has decided that maybe he could try a little harder after all.

It goes to everyone and anyone other than Tim and this time? That’s actually the plan.

Tim isn’t as good of a hacker as Barbara, but she’s basically a god at it so compared to others he might as well be master level, just not against her. This he uses to shift around peoples schedules so Alfred has no choice but to let him go to school on his own (Tim may have also invented an early morning ‘club’ that was totally legit and not at all a fabrication). He makes it so when Dick is over or Jason takes the rare opportunity to visit he had to work at WE or DI, something important he can’t neglect.

He never has to walk Ace or Titus because he’s busy with his team mates.

Team mates who think he’s busy helping out Batman.

Tim still does work as a hero, but it’s entirely through his businesses after a while. A few times he has no choice but to go out in a boring black suit with a full face mask and hoodie. It’s got nothing on it, no symbols or gadgets. Nothing to connect him to anyone.

He starts with the homeless, dishing out vaccines like candy without even doing a campaign to showcase it.

Then he changes Bruce’s rather naive approach to orphanages and makes it so every single child who is put through is given a small amount of funding. He makes it so kids have more chance to stay with siblings, makes sure everyone who even so much as enters the ground of a orphanage have a real background check and sure the adoption rate drops, but so does the missing kids and DV cases.

Tim steals over fifty million from people like Luther and Penguin and all kinds of corrupt rich assholes for the majority of the funding and not even a cent of it is traced back to Wayne or Drake businesses. Whiles he’s digging into Lex be manages to get enough evidence to put a sizeable dent in his reputation, even if Lex manages to smooch a fair bit of it back.

He’s manages to take out a large sized trafficking ring and helps get the victims into a real recovery home that he hand picks out security for.

Later, as in a few days afterward, he discovers a dog meat farm and everyone medical veterinary student suddenly finds themself free of student loans and debt and with multiple work opportunities available and volunteer work being down right pleased for.

Tim knows he’s being noticed but given that he basically lives in his office in the heart of the city, he isn’t there to hear his old teammates and ‘family’ talk about the mysterious Dread.

Dread who was named that after a report came out about a theory of an unknown hacker or ‘cyber vigilante’ who was stealing money and information from rich folk and giving it to the poor, giving all of the 1% dread that he would hit them next.

The exact quote was ‘Those with money deeper than their pockets dread the hackers next moves. And they should feel that dread as a warning for this Robin Hood like legend seems to be getting braver.’

Dick was sure the hacker would have been called Robin if he hadn’t chosen that name already, to which Barbara responded with grumbles and growl because she couldn’t find anything other than holes and traps left by the hacker. It was like they knew her every move before she even made it!

Tim, obvious to his growing reputation until it fully took off, hadn’t even considered that his actions would be framed a threat by Batman. He would say it was because he didn’t think Bruce would ever really target him like that, but in actuality it’s because he knew Bruce was one of the few good rich folk. Surely he would be on the side of a secret vigilante hacker trying to use horrible people to do good? He embraced Dread quickly and was happy he make the rich squirm and brought a sense of hope to people, it was just like Robin but instead of them being safe and given light they were given a peace of mind in a mix of revenge and justice.

What Tim doesn’t know is that Bruce is still too far into his whole image of black and white, good and evil, that he tends to forget there’s grey areas.

At least Jason is on the side of Dread, even if he still thinks the myth of a story is just that, a myth.

It’s when Tim blows up a bank when everyone has gone home for the night just so people will find the underground money ring that and he visits the manner to get a few things that he hears them talking about it.

By that point it’s been around two years since he dropped Robin and as usual Dick always greets him with a look of a desperate puppy, “Tim! Hi, you’re here. I haven’t seen you in months, how have you been?”

Tim smiles at Dick even if he hasn’t gotten over his anger at his oldest brother and moves to sit at the breakfast table with everyone (Alfred, Bruce, Jason and Damian).

“Good. Busy, we’ve had a lot of donations lately.”

Jason snorts, “No shit. Isn’t Wayne Enterprise one of the few ones not hit by Dread?”

Bruce grumbles and shakes his head, “I wouldn’t say that. They’ve managed to get into our system and completely changed the Jason Project.”

Jason grins and laughs happily, “you mean improved! Crime Ally is doing great now. Not the best, but still a fuck of a lot better.”

Smiling at the man who once beat him to an inch of his life, Tim takes a sip of his tea and casually says, “You’re welcome.”

The whole table goes quiet as Tim continues to casually sip his tea.

The silence carries for a total minute before Bruce puts down his cup and leans forward with a slight growl in his voice, “Explain.”

“Explain what?”

Bruce stands over his son even from halfway down the table and very obviously tries to calm himself with a deep breath, “What do you mean ‘you’re welcome’?”

Tim makes an ‘oh’ expression before cocking his head to the side in confusion, “I was the one who fixed the Jason Project? Wait, did you guys not realise I’m Dread?”

Damian shouts out a ‘what?!’ That makes Titus jump and Tim laughs under his breath, “What did you think I was doing?”

“Running the business! Not stealing from people and black mailing politicians!”

It’s Tim’s turn to growl now and he stands up himself with a glare at Bruce that is as close as any of them have gotten to the famed Bat-Glare, “Are you fucking kidding me? Like are you a Tully kidding me with that horse shit?”

Bruce looks stunned and Alfred doesn’t even tell him not to swear.

Tim slams his chair into the table.

“What the fuck else would I be doing, Bruce? I’m not Robin, that was taken from me, so what else was I gonna do? I finished my job, not only keeping you from killing anyone but bringing you back, so I had do pick something else. I’m not stealing from the rich, I’m stealing from selfish cunts who ruin peoples lives for no reason and giving it to people like Jason. So, don’t you fucking yell at me and don’t try to make me feel bad for this, not when I’ve done more in two years than you ever have and- don’t you fucking speak Dick, not when you were the one who took my place here away from me! Now, I have a trafficking ring I need to expose so good. Fucking. Day.”

Jason is the only one who follows him.

[poohsources]

🐝  *  ―  𝑹𝑨𝑵𝑫𝑶𝑴 𝑫𝑰𝑨𝑳𝑶𝑮𝑼𝑬 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺 𝑷𝑻. 𝑰.

❛  it was wrong of me to assume you're ever gonna change.  ❜ ❛  that's it? it was all just a lie?  ❜ ❛  shame on me for thinking you were a good person.  ❜ ❛  you're gonna pay for what you did to me.  ❜ ❛  you didn't hear a word of what i just said, did you?  ❜ ❛  believe me, you weren't my first choice either.  ❜ ❛  if you've got a problem with the way i handle things, just say so.  ❜ ❛  do you think we're gonna survive this?  ❜ ❛  what's your problem?!  ❜ ❛  will you please slow down a little?  ❜ ❛  i can't believe you would do something like that.  ❜ ❛  did it mean anything to you?  ❜ ❛  i'm never gonna be good enough for you.  ❜ ❛  we were just fooling ourselves this whole time.  ❜ ❛  i'm sorry, i didn't know where else to go.  ❜ ❛  i don't want to argue with you anymore.  ❜ ❛  fine. you were right, and i was wrong. happy now?  ❜ ❛  this day feels like it's never gonna end.  ❜ ❛  i didn't think you'd care so much.  ❜ ❛  this must be like the first time you were nice to me.  ❜ ❛  out of all the people here, why do i have to be stuck with you?  ❜ ❛  do you want to go on a date with me?  ❜ ❛  honestly, i don't think i wanna leave the house today.  ❜ ❛  were you ever planning on telling me about all of this?  ❜ ❛  i wish i had another choice.  ❜ ❛  don't flatter yourself, a fifth-grader could've done this as well.  ❜ ❛  you're the most insufferable person i have ever met.  ❜ ❛  here, you look like you need this more than me right now.  ❜ ❛  oh, just so you know, i don't ever lose this game.  ❜ ❛  just let me sleep for five more minutes.  ❜ ❛  alright, is there anything else we have to do before they arrive?  ❜ ❛  do you believe in ghosts?  ❜ ❛  i wish we had more time together.  ❜ ❛  you don't have to leave just yet ... you could stay the night if you wanted to.  ❜ ❛  where are you taking me?  ❜ ❛  trust me, this is the last thing i want to do.  ❜ ❛  i need more time to think about what i want.  ❜ ❛  why didn't you say anything earlier? we could've avoided this whole mess.  ❜ ❛  i don't feel so good, i think i may be getting sick.  ❜ ❛  help me! please!  ❜

[bisexualadamparrish]

having the worst fucking 24 hours 🤪

[hungharrington]

So I um I found an amazing video and now I’m plagued by thoughts of sitting on Steve’s bed, him between your legs with his back to your chest, and giving him the sweetest loveliest softest handjob ever, scratching his tummy hairs and peppering kisses all over his neck

nonnie did i or did i not tell u i was coming back for this ask? and i came back with a hunger -- sort of sub!steve, 1.5k, everything the ask describes, as always MDNI this entire blog is 18+! enjoy <3

Steve doesn’t think anyone has ever asked to take care of him before.

He’s had plenty of partners in bed, sure. He’s rife with enough experience that honestly he thinks it would take a really strange request to throw him off his game. But you had— when you asked, “Can I just take care of you tonight?” 

He hadn’t even been entirely sure what you had meant, pulling back from the steamy make-out with you on his lap— the usual late night rendezvous. 

But still, he gave a slow and earnest nod, a soft ‘sure, honey’ and let you rearrange the two of you til you were leaning back on the headboard and he was leaning back against you. Your thighs on either side of him, your arms looped around his middle. Like a little spoon. Steve secretly adores it. 

“Y’know I can’t exactly do much in this position,” Steve chuckles, pretending to have his reservations, even if he’s already eager to see what you mean by taking care of him. Your arms are around his waist, warm, your fingers tucking up his shirt to begin to work it upwards.

“Mm,” you hum, hoisting it higher and Steve moves forward, letting it get tugged off and over his head. Cool air flushes down his chest. “Dunno if you’re grasping the idea of letting me take care of you if you’re worrying bout that.” 

The shirt flutters to the ground, forgotten, as your hands explore to freshly exposed skin. Steve sighs sweetly as you trace softly across his tummy, nails dragging lightly as your near his thighs. His cock is already perking up. It’s been interested since earlier, you in his lap and your tongue in his mouth, and it doesn’t take many more lingering touches for it to reach proper attention. 

“No one ever taken care of you before, baby?” You ask, lips scraping his ear. Your breath is warm and your voice is low— but the kiss you give beneath his ear is hot and wet. You suckle at the skin, not even a nip of teeth. Desire pools low in Steve’s gut, a simmering heat. 

One of your hands moves over his boxers and gives his bulge a gentle rub, making Steve rumble out a soft moan. Your other hand rubs soothing down his thigh. 

Steve shakes his head to answer no to your question. His eyes fight to stay open, torn between wanting to watching your wandering hands or turning to kiss you but your persistent kisses on his neck give him little choice. He shifts his hips. 

“Not- not like this,” Steve admits, breath a little short already. His tummy tenses when your hand drags back up over it, just a soft scratch of nails. His cock aches harder. He wishes you would touch it, wishes you would reach your hand in, all hot, soft and wet and tug it in that perfectly teasing way he knows you can. 

“Sweetheart,” he breathes, hips shifting upward again. You smile at his impatience. 

“Can we take these off?” You ask, pinching the ruffled elastic of his boxers. Steve nods fervently, hips shifting up to let you slide them down so he can kick them off. His chest feels warm, flushed beneath the hair and another groan tumbles out when you finally curl your fingers around his cock. “Fuck,” he pants as you pump tantalizing slow. “Fuck, feels so good, honey,” 

A hunger for the feeling grows in his stomach, gnawing for more bliss. Steve lets his head tips back, resting against your shoulder and you take advantage of it in an instant; kisses upon kisses up his neck. It’s messy, lips wet with spit as you scrape your teeth down, right as your rub over the slit of his cock— Steve twitches, a jagged whine pushing past his lips. He pants a little heavier. 

Pausing for a moment, you pull your hand back to your mouth and let yourself drool over it— sticky saliva covering your fingers. This time, when you grip his cock, Steve gasps loudly. Slick, hot, sounds reverberate in the room as you jerk him, hand twisting perfectly. Still slow, still gentle. 

Your mouth find his earlobe, teeth nibbling a little mean, your hand not stopping— and Steve moans a little louder, like he can’t help it. His cock gives a little dribble of precum, tummy all tensed up again. 

“See? S’nice to be taken care of,” You murmur softly. You thumb his slit again, delighting in the spurt his cock gives, then dive down to cup his balls. Your other hand strokes along his thigh lovingly, nails drawing lines as you rake them back up to his v-line. 

Steve shivers, shuddering sweet whines escaping him. He’s so unbearably hard for you- especially as you rub his balls so perfectly, your hand dragging back up his cock and then back down, a mind-melting cycle. It’s so much, it’s not even close to enough, it’s, it’s— 

“Oh god,” Steve whimpers loudly. His eyes have finally crushed closed, his hands gripping the bed sheets tightly beside you. His gut is burning with heat, pleasure filling every limb. It feels good. He wants to writhe against you, wants to fuck your fist, wants you to keep teasing him just like you’re doing. 

“Oh god, oh fuck- f-fuck,” His words are getting more pathetic by the minute, barely fully formed, drenched in a whimpering tone. “Please, don’t… don’t tease, no- ah,” 

It’s not even teasing, you just aren’t rubbing him hot and fast like usual. Your movements are slow, doused in adoration — your core feels sticky, burning hot from watching Steve get all worked up in your arms. 

“M’not teasing you,” you say, fondling his balls and rubbing your palm against them in a circular motion, building his lust. Steve’s tense body and punched out breathes contradict your words. He’s so whiny. It’s a pity no one’s ever taken care of him before — though your stomach pinches hotly to know only you get to see him this way. 

“Just taking care of you,” you sigh, grip tightening as you pull it back up his cock, giving the smallest jerk. Steve warbles out a throaty whimper, egged on by your roaming touch along his thighs. He feels molten hot, tummy already all clenched up, his cock just leaking all over your hand. Pleasure buzzes wildly in his body, back starting to arch up. 

“Hone- aw, fuckfuckfuck, yes, just there, please, honey,” he pleads, voice starting to sound wrecked and feeble. God, he sounds pathetic; he only sounds like this when he's been fucking you for a good while. But a few minutes of the right touch? Reduces to a whiny mess in your hands. 

“So pretty,” you whisper and Steve can’t tell if you mean him or his dribbling cock, all pink and twitching in your hand. He can’t even feel the fabric gripped between his own fingers— can’t feel anything except your palm right around the head of his cock, teasing it lightly. It’s torture, it’s perfect, it’s not enough, it’s— 

“Please!” The word bursts out of Steve, desperate, swallowed immediately by a moan. He fights to get his next words out as your hand returns to his heavy balls, caressing them soft and slow again. It’s not fucking enough. His pleas fall out all whimpery, “Take— take care of me, please, wanna cum, I wanna- I wanna—“ 

It’s the magic words. You grip his cock properly, your whole hand curling around him for the first time that night and you set a fast pace- lewd, squelching sounds echo in the bedroom. Steve keens forward, a soft cry coming from him as his pleasure turns into a blaze in his stomach. “Oh my god, oh god- yes, fuck—“ 

Your free hand moves to his tummy, scratching down to thatch of hair at the base of his cock and Steve can’t help it, he cums, hard. He turns his head, hides it in your neck and releases a whimpery sort of wail. His chest heaves as his pretty cock spurts out his hot pearly cum — coating your hand enough to ride him through it, your hand never stopping. 

“That’s it, so good,” You coo at him. Your sweet words carry him through it, your pace slowing as his body starts to twitch back against yours. His cock gives a few final dribbles of cum and you rub your thumb over his slit, spreading it. Steve whimpers loudly. “Mm, there we go.” 

It feels like it takes forever for him to settle back down. Steve feels wrung out, feels spent, feels like he had his brain melted out his ears — like he could just nap against you now and be happy forever. Your soft kiss against his cheek has him opening his eyes, pulling back enough to look at your face. 

“Good?” You ask, though he knows you can tell just how fucking good it was. “Good to be taken care of?” 

Steve nods with a loving hum, a hefty exhale rushing out his lungs and he lets his face huddle back into your neck, eyes slipping shut. He’ll move in a minute- maybe when he can feel his thighs again. 

[just-jordie-things]

crushing - takuma ino

word count: 3k warnings: i think none summary: ino's not great at making moves and you're not great at picking up on them. either way, you're undeniably crushing on each other. a/n: this is my first ino fic! i don't usually post something immediately after finishing it but i really wanted feedback on this one before i wrote bigger n better fics for him :3 ___

Takuma Ino was not a desperate man.

At least he hoped he didn’t come off that way whenever he crossed paths with (y/l/n) (y/n).  He really hoped he didn’t.  Because every day he spent at Jujutsu Tech, he went out of his way to ‘accidentally’ bump into her as many times as possible.  

His personal best was twenty-five.  That day he’d stayed well past sunset to finish the paperwork he’d neglected, but he still stands by his choices.

Nanami claimed that if he had a crush on the young manager, then he should just ask her out already, but Ino didn’t think it was that easy.  Not because he was  nervous- of course not! He just wanted to be certain that she would agree to go out with him before making a move.  That wasn’t a ridiculous notion, was it? 

It wasn’t ridiculous.  It just meant things moved… slowly.

“Ino, hey,” 

(y/n’s) drawn out of her conversation with Maki when she sees the Grade Two Sorcerer approaching in the hall.  There’s a soft smile of familiarity on her face, unlike the student beside her who rolled her eyes and slumped against the wall, knowing that it would take twice as long to have her paperwork looked over.  This wasn’t the first time Maki had witnessed the perfect distraction that was Takuma Ino.  It was already the fourth time this week, and just like every other time, (y/n) fell for it right away.

Just as he approaches the both of them, a look of confusion flashes across (y/n’s) face, and she tucks the forgotten paperwork against her chest as she tilts her head at him.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on your way to Yokohama? I thought you were assigned to that Grade One curse with the whole…” She pauses as she makes an indefinite shape with her hands, “Explosive thing?” 

“I’m about to head out for it now, but, you know,” He shrugs his shoulders, a smile forming on his face the longer he looks at her.

The first time he’d laid eyes on her he’d done a cartoonish double take, which unfortunately Nanami bore witness to.  She’d been walking and chatting animatedly with Ijichi- who seemed less passionate about the conversation but was an attentive listener nonetheless- and every time he’d seen her since, Ino felt the same lurch in his heart that was the desire to linger near her just a little longer.

Before he could finish his thought, Maki was speaking up first.

“You just wanted to show up late?” She asked dryly, her expression anything but amused by the sight of young love.

“I’m not late,” He chuckles nervously, shaking his head.  “I just wanted to stop by my good luck charm before I left” He claims with a little more confidence before he grins at (y/n).

She laughs at the comment, and Maki can’t help but roll her eyes just a little bit.  Typical.  Surely she’d swoon over the flirty comment and then drop it completely, just like she always did.

“Yeah yeah,” She mused, just like Maki expected.  “Go, don’t get yourself in trouble again.  I don’t think Nanami will keep vouching for you” 

“Sure he will,” Ino waves a dismissive hand, but judging from the way he’s already turning away and breaking into a jog, (y/n) and Maki can see through the nonchalant act.  “But it’ll be quick! I’ll have the shortest report ever for you!” He hollers from down the hall.

(y/n’s) still chuckling once he’s out of sight.  Maki huffs in aggravation.

“I can’t believe you lead that guy on.  You’re gonna have to let him down easy if you don’t want him to have a stroke”

“What?” (y/n) shakes her head at the student’s accusation.  “I don’t lead him on, we just get along” 

“You lead him on” Maki deadpans.  (y/n) holds her paperwork a little tighter against herself, and the defensive action doesn’t go unnoticed.

“This isn’t appropriate, I won’t allow for this to be a silly rumor of some s-” 

“Gojo Sensei says that he’ll never make a move unless you do it first” Maki shrugs.

All professionalism flies out the window in an instant as (y/n’s) face goes blank, her eyes blinking wide as she stares back at the student in utter disbelief.

“He did?” She mumbles.  

Maki nods in confirmation.

(y/n) glances around herself to ensure their conversation would be a private one, before shuffling forward and lowering her voice.

“Well… what else did he say?” ___

To say that (y/n) had a bit of a crush on the Auspicious Beast Summoner would be an understatement.  From the day he’d fallen in front of her- literally, he fell down half a flight of stairs and she’d rushed to make sure he was alright- there was something exciting about him.  He was so kind, and funny, and he so obviously went out of his way to talk to her that she slowly found her heart fluttering more and more whenever he was around.

All this time she’d thought he was just friendly, and was eager to have a companion at Jujutsu Tech that was his age.  Why else would he spend so much time around a manager when there are much cooler, much stronger people around? It was no secret what he thought of Nanami, and while (y/n) was proud of her work, she simply couldn’t compete with the skill of a sorcerer.

Usually she wasn’t one to listen to rumors, especially from a source like Gojo Satoru.  He may have been a friend-of-sorts to her, but that didn’t mean (y/n) trusted him for a second.  Gojo was a good guy, but he was the kind of guy to stir the pot when he was bored, and playing matchmaker was just a game to him.  So despite everything Maki had told her, she didn’t necessarily believe it.  She was just curious, that’s all.

And the only reason she was headed off to Ino’s office after being notified he’d returned from his mission was just to address the rumors, that’s all.  She was doing him a favor by letting him know what the other sorcerers were gossiping about.  There couldn’t possibly be an ulterior motive laced in there as well.

His door is open when she reaches the small workspace, but he doesn’t seem to notice when she appears there, leaning into the door frame while she takes in the crude office.  

Calling it an office didn’t even feel correct.  There was a desk and a computer, and a semi-comfortable looking rolling chair that Ino was sitting in.  He hadn’t realized there was a visitor at the door seeing as he had his head hanging over the back of it, his mask pulled down and his hands pressed into his face.  (y/n) had to bite back the chuckle that threatened to come out of her, assuming there was more to report in his paperwork than he’d assumed and was now overwhelmed by it.

With a soft tap of her knuckles on the doorframe, (y/n) makes her presence known.

“Need some help?” 

Ino jolts up so suddenly his chair is sent backwards, rolling away from the desk and tipping out of balance too, but he’s quick to steady himself, staring at her sudden figure at his door with wide eyes.  It’s the only part of his expression she can make out, seeing as he’s still got his mask pulled over his face.

“(y/n)!” He greets her louder than he intended, but he had yet to shake off his surprise in seeing her.  A fond smile tilts the corners of her mouth, unable to be helped as she watches him awkwardly scramble in his seat.  “How long have you been standing there?” 

“Long enough to consider leaving if you were crying under there” She teases, finally stepping foot into the room.  Her eyes wander the bare gray walls, a slight frown taking over at how empty the whole space feels.

“No, I’m not-” Before he continues, Ino’s quick to yank his mask off his face, pulling it off his head completely and dropping it on his desk.  “What brings you here?” He changes the subject completely, his eyes never leaving her figure as she wanders around the room as if looking for something.

He realizes then that she’s never seen his office- not that there was much to see, as she was coming to find- but nonetheless it’s odd that she’s the one approaching him for once.  It was always Ino searching around the halls of Jujutsu Tech for her, not the other way around.

“So empty,” (y/n) comments quietly, and he’s not sure if she was talking to herself or him.  “You don’t like to decorate?” She asks, this time turning to him.

“I’m not in here very much,” He admits, a sheepish smile on his face.  “I take most of my paperwork home.  If I’m here I’m not usually in the office” 

“Yeah,” (y/n) smiles softly, ducking her head to hide the way her face warms up.  “That’s cause you’re usually trying to bother me” 

She doesn’t see it, but Ino’s face lights up.  He bears a wide grin and his eyes gleam with excitement.  She was acting quite out of character today.  Usually he was the one teasing her.  This was a real treat.

“Bother?” He repeats, standing up from his chair and rounding his desk to lean against it, completely ignoring the half-written report on his computer that he hadn’t hit save on in a while.  “I don’t seem to remember ever bothering you” 

She rolls her eyes, finally looking up at him, and Ino thinks he could combust from excitement.  She’s blushing, which he’s not sure he’s ever seen before, and he can tell she’s fighting back a bigger smile behind the small one she shows him.

“Well what would you call it then?” She asks, still struggling to bite back a grin that mirrors his.  So much joy poured out of him it was difficult to fight the way it took her by the soul and forced her to feel nothing but warmth and butterflies.

“Obviously I was romancing you,” Ino replies without missing a beat, surprising even himself with the blunt truth.  Besides the way her eyes round into saucers, (y/n) doesn’t really react to the statement.  “Not my fault you’re a hard person to flirt with sometimes” He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, and then tucks his hands into his pockets.

(y/n) blinks a few times, staring him down like she was suddenly an expert in body language.

“I am?” She asks, a small laugh escaping her at the suggestion.  “Because maybe I didn’t know you were flirting” She says with a shrug of her own.

Ino gapes back at her, unable to keep up with the chill facade when she says something so ridiculous.

“What do you mean you didn’t know?” He asks, and she laughs again, finally losing the battle to the grin on her face.  “Was I not obvious enough? You know that even Gojo was trying to get me to-” 

“Yeah, I know,” (y/n) says quietly, but it’s effective in getting him to shut up.  “One of his students might’ve told me some rumors they heard from him” She explains.

“What!?” Embarrassment floods his features.  “Who? I want names-” 

“Can’t, teacher-student confidentiality and all” She teases.  

She’s learning it was quite fun to not be on the receiving end of the playful banter.  In the past it was always Ino with the perfect quip or joke to have her flustered for the rest of the day, even if she wouldn’t show it.  Knowing he was actually incredibly easy to mess with felt like knowing his weakness.

“You’re not a teacher” He deadpans.  She laughs again.

“Well, I actually came to let you know that certain sorcerers here were spreading rumors to slander your good name,” She tells him matter of factly.  “But it appears those rumors are actually true, so they’re not really rumors, huh?” 

Ino rolls his eyes, but it’s in no way directed at her.  He makes a mental note to bring this up to Nanami to add to the very long list of grievances caused by Gojo Satoru.

(y/n) steps close to him, linking her fingers together behind her back as she finds the courage to hold eye contact with him.

“Why didn’t you just ask me out?” She asks.

He hates that she tilts her head to the side just so.  She did it on occasion when she was confused about something, and Ino’s sure that she’s not even aware that she had that tendency, but every time she did it he was so overwhelmed by the urge to kiss her that most of the time he had to completely walk away from her.

But they’re in his office, having a conversation he really didn’t want to walk away from.  If he ran now, there would be no coming back from it, and his intrigue in how she felt about him outweighed the aggravation she caused him when she looked that pretty.

He’s staring at her without saying anything, and he knows it’s been a few seconds too long to be comfortable, but it’s hard to care.  She’s close enough to him that he can smell her perfume and see how every strand of hair falls over left shoulder and he can’t help but take in every pretty sight of her.

He once swore he wasn’t a desperate man, hence his patience in waiting while he tried to figure out how she felt before he made a move, but standing here now, what’s one promise in the grand scheme of life? 

So he leans forward off his desk a bit, desperation getting the best of him.

“Would you have agreed?” 

She raises her chin, the apples of her cheeks getting rosy in color despite her trying to play it cool.

“I asked you first” 

“I asked you second” 

That had her bursting out in laughter, hands falling to her hips.

“Oh, real mature!” She says through a fit of bubbly giggles.

It’s cute.  It was so cute in fact, Ino just couldn’t take it anymore.  The fun banter he’d tried to establish had now warped into his own personal hell.

And hell didn’t even have any boring office decorations, no succulents, no photo frames, not even a calendar.

“Just answer the question,” He says, and it comes out as more of a plea than he means for it to, but he doesn’t bother trying to compensate for it, or taking it back.  “Would you have agreed to go out with me?” 

He has a hopeful look in his eye that only seems to gleam more with every second that passes without her response.  (y/n) softens, the warmth in her chest spreading throughout her entire body and making her melt like putty.  It was almost pathetic, how quickly this little crush she’d harbored for the sorcerer had grown into something more genuine than she’s ever felt for anyone before.

“Yeah,” She answers simply, quietly, barely nodding her head along with her confirmation.  “Yeah, I would have” 

The smile he wears is so sweet and pure that she’s mirroring it in a heartbeat.

“Okay,” He thinks he’s going to pass out if he doesn’t hurry this up, so he rushes the next string of words out so fast (y/n’s) lucky she managed to understand him.  “You wanna go out then? Tonight? For drinks? And then maybe dinner?” 

She’s laughing as she nods, her hands nervously fiddling together.

“Okay,” She repeats, rocking back and forth on her feet just once.  “But you should finish your report first.  So, call me when you’re done?” 

He wants to protest, but he knows she’s right.  So as he hands her his phone to add herself as a contact, Ino mentally starts going through what he has to finish so he could get through it as quickly as possible.

She’s still grinning when she hands him his phone back, already eager for the day to be over.

“I’ll be quick, promise” He beams back at her as she makes her way out of his office.

“You pick where we go for drinks, and I’ll pick where we go for dinner,” She decides, lingering at the doorway for just a moment longer.  “Sound good?” 

“Sounds perfect” He’s back in his chair and clicking away at his keyboard as he writes nonsense into his report.  

(y/n’s) gone with a little wave and a blush that only burns brighter the further away she gets.  She just hopes she doesn’t run into anyone in the meantime.

Ino tries to work on his report after adding some meaningless fluff of things that didn’t really happen, and weren’t really necessary for the report.  He really does try.

For five whole minutes.

But then he can’t help but open his phone to check on the contact (y/n) had just made for himself, and seeing the little orange heart emoji she’d added next to her name has him swooning way too hard- over an emoji, at least.  But that’s what she reduced him to, mush.

(y/n’s) just reached the front steps of Jujutsu Tech when her phone starts blaring her ringtone in her pocket.  She makes a face at the unknown number calling her, but it’s washed away as soon as she picks it up.

“Would you believe me if I said I finished already?” Ino’s speaking right away, without so much as a greeting.  

She giggles into the receiver, because no, no she doesn’t.

“That’s quite impressive work” She praises.

“I think you’ll come to find I’m quite an impressive guy!” He responds, and then quickly follows it with, “Not in, like, a douchebag way though!” 

She fights the urge to laugh any harder, not wanting to put him through any more embarrassment than he’s already suffered today.  They still have an entire evening ahead of them, after all.

“Of course not,” She murmurs softly.  “Meet me at the front steps, then? We can go into town together” 

And when Ino’s there in under a minute, trying desperately not to show how out of breath he is, she doesn’t tease him for it.  Not until later in the night after a few drinks in, anyways.

___

xoxo ~ jordie