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celestie0 · 2 months

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gojo satoru x reader | oneshot smut [18+]

luxury & lingerie. a retail au

“𝐀𝐥𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲’𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝐋𝐞𝐭’𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐭. 𝐈’𝐦 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤.”

ᰔ pairing. retail au - rolex salesman gojo x victoria's secret associate reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo is the rolex watch shop's pretty boy & you're the victoria's secret lingerie store's new hire that works across from him. let's just say he's determined to get inside your pants.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, porn with plot (seriously that's all it is), smut, casual sex, possibly comedic, lots of terrible flirting, tiny bit of fluff if you squint, gojo's got a daddy kink that you really have no interest in entertaining, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, creampie, blowjobs, oral sex, praise kink, some degradation, sort of cum play, banter, suguru & choso are in it too (the hot-boy sales trio)

ᰔ word count. 6.5k

a/n. hellooo this started with this concept idea i had of hot retail worker gojo who just wants to flirt with you instead of actually do his job lmfao. this was seriously just a stream of my consciousness. hope you enjoy! and thanks to everyone that wanted to be on taglist for this. creds to @quinnyundertow for the sephora lipstick idea.

The sound of Suguru’s voice was the last thing going through Gojo’s mind right now.

“Anyways, I put the car in reverse, she’s on aux. I’m thinking, she’s gotta have good taste, right? She’s the one that suggested the Maneskin concert in the first place. But you know what she starts playing? Country music. Fucking country music. And I’m not necessarily opposed to a good— dude, are you even listening?”

Choso leans over the polished display case of the mens’ latest Rolex models, staring at the two idiots in front of him. “No, he’s not. He’s been ogling the tits on that mannequin over there for the past five minutes.”

Gojo finally blinks out of his trance, irritated. “I’m not staring at the mannequin, I’m staring at—”

You. New hire. Over at the Victoria’s Secret that was across from his turf at the mall. You were standing on your tiptoes on a mini ladder, wobbling a little, reaching up for a mannequin at the display window to switch out the corny yellow sleeping mask on its face for one that was a more sleek, satin blue.

The fabric of your uniform slid up slightly, skin of your midriff exposed, and he has to suck a breath in through his teeth.

“I called dibs on that a week ago,” Suguru says from where he stood, lazily leaning on the counter.

“No fucking way. I’ve got dibs.”

“Dibs? Really? I work with a bunch of prepubescents,” Choso groans, tipping his head back to stare up at fluorescent mall lighting.

Suguru’s voice sounds like he’s lax at the jaw. “Is anyone gonna tell her that’s the ladder they use to prop the door open, and not the one to flash Satoru’s horny ass while changing out a mannequin?”

“I’ll be the one to tell her,” Gojo says.

At the display window, you slowly peel the panties off of the mannequin without a thought in the world to use the store’s modesty curtain, and Gojo, Suguru & Choso are all staring. And probably every other man within the store’s radius.

“Holy fuck,” Gojo says, strained.

“Holy fuck, indeed,” Suguru marvels.

“She’s clueless,” Choso sighs.

“You can have the mannequin, I get the girl,” Suguru offers, something just to get under Gojo’s skin.

“Shut up. I’m going over there.” He stands up onto his feet from the leather client chair he had been sprawled across up until this point of his shift.

“Can’t wait for you to royally fuck this up,” Choso muses with a smirk, arms crossing at his chest.

Gojo grumbles something under his breath when he hears Suguru’s coo of agreement, and then he’s making his way across to the Victoria’s Secret entrance. He unbuttons the top two buttons of his black dress shirt, as if he expects the sight of the skin at his collarbone to have you seduced like a victorian man seeing a lady’s ankle for the first time.

He makes it through the welcoming glass doors that lead into the sultry & dark ambience that you would expect of a lingerie store, and he rounds to the right, stopping a few feet away from you.

You were combing through a rack now, lips pursed in concentration until he clears his throat.

Glancing over, your shoulders tense and you pull your retail headset earpiece down, leaving it hanging by the wire that was clipped to the neckline of your shirt. His eyes flicker to the nametag pinned above the curve of your breast. You look at him with wide eyes. “Oh, hi sir. How can I help you?”

“Oh, no, I’m not a customer,” Gojo quickly corrects you, although he liked the sound of sir from your lips, “I work over there.” He points with a jerk of his chin towards the obnoxiously gaudy exterior of the Rolex watch store facing the two of you.

You blink at him. “Ah, I see.”

“You new here?” Gojo asks, taking a step forward and resting his elbow up on the metal bar of the rack just to get more into your space. “Haven’t seen you around.”

The corner of your lip turns up slightly at his words. “Why? Do you keep a roster?”

“I—no, not really,” he responds, already a little speechless, “wait, a roster of what?” He’d say he does if it’s a roster of pretty girls he’s been fantasizing about tit-fucking all day long, with you being at the top—no, the only one—on that list.

You shrug a little. It’s kind of meek and cute. “Of new hires?”

He breathes in deep. “Yes. Yes, I do. I just like to make sure the newbies feel welcome around here. Y’know, taken care of.”

You smile, turn to face him and relax your posture. “Oh. That’s sweet. Yeah, I feel pretty welcome here, thanks.”

“That’s good.”

“I mean, everyone’s been really nice to me so far.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, and I really like the break room on this floor. The last place I worked at didn’t have a toaster oven.”

“No way.”

“I wish the clock-in machine was easier to use though…”

“For sure.”

You glance at him suspiciously in the middle of your rant. “Why are you staring at me?”

“Cause you’re real pretty, angel.”

Your brow raises, the keys hooked to the loop of your jeans jingling as you place a curled hand to your hip. “Angel? Really? Cause of— cause of Victoria’s Secret angels?”

Gojo’s stiff, his elbow still resting on the cool metal pole, and he glances up at the ceiling before looking back down at you. “Uhh…sure? Yes.”

“That’s not very original.”

“Man, you’re really making me work hard for this. Unfortunately, that only makes me want you more.” He leans down closer to you, to catch the scent on your skin, and he can’t tell if you’re amused or annoyed from the way your cheeks round as you narrow your eyes at him.

“This is you working hard for it? You haven’t even told me your name yet, watch boy.”

He sees your fingers wrap around the cold metal bar of the rack, and he tries hard not to picture them wrapped around something else, but to no avail. You jut your hip out to bump him, pushing him out of your way, before you start rolling the rack down the store.

He trails behind you. “My name. It’s Satoru. But to you, I can be dadd-”

You stop in your tracks, turning around to face him with a scowl, but he was too distracted by the shape of your backside to be reflexive enough to stop himself in time, and he ends up crashing right into you. The momentum has you falling back with a gasp, tripping over the foot of the rack, and his arm flies around your waist to keep you upright, and then pressed up against him too just for good measure.

His face is just inches away from yours. “Shit. Sorry.”

Your arms are squished between his chest and yours, pinky tickling the skin at his collarbone, and the contact has him reeling. “I-It’s fine,” you say, lashes fluttering, “now let go of me, before I file a harassment complaint.”

He instantly retreats, releasing you, watching you stumble a bit before gaining your balance again. “God, no, please,” he sighs, “I really need this job.”

“You don’t act like it,” you mumble. You fix your hair in front of him and tuck the fabric of your shirt that came loose back into your jeans. He doesn’t have to touch your cheeks to know they feel hot, he can tell from the purse of your lips and the way you won’t make eye contact with him.

The voices of a couple women are heard from down the aisle, as well as the plastic clinking of hangers on racks as they peruse the sheer bralettes dangling in color-coded fashion. Gojo sees you struggling to pull the rack you were working with away to the side to let them through, and he comes up behind you, gripping the metal bar to do it for you. He catches the fragrance of your hair at the crown of your head, and he inhales slowly.

The women walk by, throwing a few curious glances at the two of you, and Gojo doesn’t move from where he’s holding onto the rack and has his arm pressed against yours, his only lifeline to find some reason to touch you right now.

You start pushing the rack forward again, and he continues to follow you, keeping a more respectful following distance this time. He’s distracted by the pair of crotchless panties hung over your shoulder. He picks them up by the string. “Who the fuck actually wears these?” he asks, dangling them in front of his face and turning them around in the air to inspect it.

Your eyes are set forward for your destination. “Middle-aged women that are desperate to seduce their husbands before those men ride the high of buying a $100k watch by fucking a twenty-something-year-old instead.” You snatch the pair from his hand. “I’m rooting for those women. The men at your Rolex store? Not so much.”

He’s on your heel until you round to a smaller section of the store, wheeling the rack over to a corner near the collection of lace panties sprinkled across cubbies under dim purple lighting. He glances over his shoulder and takes note that this area’s tucked away from the eyesights of the cash registers and storefront.

He hears you sigh, then say “Why are you following me?”

He meanders closer to you with his hands shoved in the pockets of his slacks. “Because…y’know, like I said, I wanna make the new hire feel settled in.”

“I literally feel so very unsettled by you right now,” you say to him with a wry expression as you start sorting through lace underwear, referencing some chart in your hand to get it right.

He walks up to you and peers over your shoulder at the illustration, and notices the way you stiffen a bit but also lean back into him. “Huh…so the cheeky panties go in the left top & bottom cubes. And they’re the ones with medium coverage and…” he squints his eyes at the chart, dim lighting doing him no favors, “and they have an alarming fit.”

You scoff through your nose. “It says alluring fit. Can you read?”

“I— shut up. Yes I can read.”

You twirl around to face him, a hint of an amused smile to your lips. His eyes widen a bit at the sight of it, until he registers it’s a cheeky one, like those panties.

“Watch boy is illiterate. Must be why you still work in retail.”

“Yes, keep being mean to me, new hire. It’s hot,” he groans, hands still in his pockets as he leans towards you. You don’t shy away, just keep on looking up at him in this little corner he has you in, a twinkle in your pupils now that he wasn’t seeing earlier.

He’s surprised when your finger hooks the fabric in between two of the buttons on his shirt. You play with the material, pinching it, but never tug on it. “What’s a grown ass man like yourself doing still working for commission at a mall?”

“Okay, ouch, a little too mean,” he backtracks, watching your tongue briefly swipe across your lip, “let’s be a bit nicer.”

Now you’re tugging on the fabric, hooked finger pulling him closer to you until his hands have to fly out of his pockets and his palms press against the wall, caging you into it. “Illiterate and can’t take a dig. Pick a struggle,” you say to him with a sweet look up.

He’s getting the sense that you’re into him too. He grabs hold of your waist, thumbs rubbing your torso over the fabric of your uniform just to get a feel. “Well,” he starts, bringing your hips forward to his, pressing the erection he was building against you, “this illiterate retail worker could fuck you real good if you’d just give him the chance.”

A small gasp leaves your lips, eyes widening and you tuck your bottom lip under your teeth. Fuck, he wants to kiss you. Wants to be the one biting your lip right now. Your hand grabs his forearm, over the veins strained from his grip on you, your nails sinking into the skin left exposed by his rolled up sleeve. “It’s…It’s real well, watch boy. You’d fuck me real well.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, I’ll fuck you real well,” he tells you, as his head tips towards your cheek, lips brushing against it. It was just a tease, so he pulls away but still looks down at you in closeness. There’s voices around the corner, but he doesn’t really care.

“You’re awfully forward,” you breathe out, and he almost goes insane at the soft whimper that leaves your lips when he can’t help but jerk his hips forward a bit.

“Y’know what? Fuck it,” he grumbles, pulling the rack across behind him so he’s created a covered haven for the two of you against this wall, and then he kisses you.

There’s a yelp that he muffles from you as his lips move against yours, slow, because you're new to him and he wants to savor it. His hand finds the small of your back, spreads across it, pushing you to arch towards him, and his teeth catch your bottom lip when he feels your breasts press against him. You’re pliant, opening your mouth for him, and he takes up the offer to taste you. Soft & warm pressed up against him, a subtle sweetness on your tongue, and he only pulls away because you squeeze his shoulder hard.

You’re breathing fast, cheeks shy, a little cutely cross-eyed from his proximity when you look up at him. “I-…okay, I’m a little mad that you’re a good kisser.”

He hums, tip of his nose brushing against yours slightly and you grip the collar of his shirt to keep him close. “I’ll kiss you nice in a lot of other places too.”

It doesn’t really take much convincing after that.

“Oh…oh my god—,” you mewl, back against the mirror of one of this fine lingerie establishment’s fitting room stalls, legs wrapped around his waist as he fucks you raw with the aim to please.

“Shit, knew you’d be tight,” he groans, pressing a kiss to your jaw when you tip your head back in pleasure, throat loose with a moan, “pretty little new hire. Just had to break you in.”

“S-Satoru,” you moan through a breath, the sound of his name on your tongue having his cock twitch inside your walls, mixed with the pain of the grip you had on the hair at the back of his head.

He has your shirt bunched up along with your bra, tits exposed for him. His head dips to pull a nipple through his teeth as he feeds you with a few slow, deep thrusts, and his eye catches the earpiece of your headset, still clipped to your shirt, bouncing around with every one of his movements inside you. “Really hope that thing’s off,” he mumbles against your skin, “but if it excites you to have it on, I—fuck, I wouldn’t really mind either way.”

Your hand flies to his bicep when he runs his thumb over your clit, legs wrapping around him even tighter. “More. Need more,” you say, head in a haze, and he really could’ve cum inside you right then and there but he holds out to enjoy some more time buried in the warm pleasure of your cunt.

“If you want something from me,” he grunts between thrusts, “you’re gonna have to beg me for it, love.”

“Fuck me harder,” you cry, eyes shut closed, and he almost feels sorry for you.

“That’s a demand,” he informs, pinching the flesh of your ass and enjoying the way you clench around him from the action, “I told you to beg.”

“Please, oh my god, please—,” you start, moving your hips against his now, and he hears the lewd sound of your flesh slapping more fervently against the mirror. “Please fuck me harder.”

“Good girl. Pretty girl,” he praises you, thumb finding your clit again as a reward, “see what you get for being so nice to me now.”

He bucks his hips harder, your arms wrapping around his neck in desperation, chin resting at the top of his head as his lips fall to your neck, and he kisses, nibbles, sucks, anything to get that sweet taste in his mouth while he draws stars over your sensitive bud, eliciting broken whimpers from you over and over again.

“Gonna let me cum inside?” he asks, feeling his balls jump at just the thought of filling you up, his thighs feeling hot from the anticipation of you giving him the permission. “All that shit talk earlier about me being a dumb mall worker, but you’d still let me finish in you, right?” His hips stutter slightly, vision starting to blur, and he feels your walls flutter tightly too, “cause I bet it turns you on that you’re letting this dumb retail man fuck you senseless in a flimsy little fitting room right now, regardless.”

“Satoru, please,” you’re begging, the crack in your voice hoarse like you’re about to cry from the pleasure.

“Answer me,” he demands, retreating the thumb that was toying with your clit. He pulls one of your arms from where it was wrapped around his neck to pin your wrist to the mirror. “You want me to cum inside you or not?”

Your hips press so harshly against his that he hardly has any leeway to thrust anymore, and it makes him hiss in protest, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass to let up. “I want—mhh, I want you to cum inside me, please, please,” you plead, desperate, grinding your clit against the skin above his cock, above the place he was buried to the hilt inside of you.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, the sweet words processing in his head, and he loses all sense of control, motions eager and desperate, chasing after his high and his thumb is barely considerate enough to chase after yours too as it rubs relentlessly over your puffed up clit. You shiver against him, walls clenching around his cock impossibly tight, legs wrapping around his waist possibly even tighter, and he feels every nerve as you come undone around him. The gripping sensation your orgasm had on him has him faltering with harsh thrusts forward, and he holds your hips flush to his as the first spurt of his cum spills into you, followed by more with repetitive juts of his hips until he’s emptied himself entirely into you, and you’re just pumped full of him.

You swat at his chest, squirming as he leaks the last drop from the tip of his dick, and he can tell you’re overstimulated.

“Sorry,” he says through a short exhale, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, and he slowly pulls out of you, cock falling limp over his thigh, and he holds you until you find footing on the ground, albeit a bit wobbly.

“Oh no,” you mewl, clenching your thighs together when you feel his cum starting to drip out, and he quickly bends down to hook your panties up back into place. You give him a pointed look.

“What? The easiest clean-up is not letting it out,” he says, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you to him so he gets to feel the plushness of your bare breasts against him and he kisses the top of your head. “You’re real good, new hire. Or whatever the fucking proper way to say it is.”

He can tell you’re rolling your eyes even though your face is buried in his chest.

“You’re a dumbass,” you say, sounding muffled.

—

Gojo spends about 90% of his shifts meandering across the shimmering tile floors of the mall to the Victoria’s Secret, and only spends about 10% of them actually being a watch salesman. His boss was starting to get real fuckin’ fed up with him, threatening to fire him yesterday for the two-hour lunch break he took because he was eating you out in a storage closet, but he really couldn’t be bothered to care. He was an addict, and he needed to get his fix. Not before annoying the shit out of you, though.

“Alright, daddy’s home. Let’s get to it. I’m on my lunch break,” he says, walking right up to you in the middle of your shift while you’re folding slip dresses onto a display table, his hand reaching for your waist but you retreat from him.

“For that, get the fuck away from me.”

He sighs. “I’ve been wanting to touch you all day long. Do you purposefully walk your gorgeous self across the front of the store that many times just to tease the hell out of me? I’m suffering.”

“I walk across the storefront because I’m doing my job,” you mumble to him.

“No, I swear, you do it to—”

“Sweets,” one of your coworkers calls out to you from the other end of the store, the one with a pink buzzcut that acts kinda scary. “Is that man bothering you?” she asks through a smack of her gum, “want me to call security?”

“Yes.”

“What—”

After a couple of minutes of vindicating himself to mall security that he is not a threat to public safety, which you watch in amusement with no help at all, he’s shortly back at your side in a different section of the store to annoy you.

“When are you gonna wear one of these for me?” he asks, holding up a pair of jaguar-print panties.

“Never,” you say to him, scanning the tags on the underwear in a box of new arrivals, “those are ugly.”

“Okay, how about these,” he says, pulling a pair out of the box. “They’re see-through. I like that.”

“No,” you say, snatching it out of his hand.

“Oh c’mon,” he groans, doing a quick glance over his shoulder to check if the coast is clear before taking a step forward, pulling you to him by a finger hooked through the belt hoop of your jeans. “I’ll buy them for you. Ring me up.”

You look up at him, hand placed on his chest but you weren’t pushing him away just yet. “Really? You’re gonna buy me panties from the store I literally work at? At least have the decency to shoplift them for me.”

He has a smile on his face when he leans down closer to you, both hands now playing with the loops of your jeans. “Ohhh you’re into criminals. Will you tackle me to the ground if I do?”

“Yes, to arrest you. Not to fuck you.”

“Why not both?”

“Satoru,” you chastise him when you hear footsteps around the corner, and now you’re pushing him away and clearing your throat before busying yourself with the box again as a few customers walk by. Gojo shoves his hands in his pockets, and then his eyes widen a bit when his knuckles hit something.

“Oh yeah,” he says, “I got you this.” He pulls out a small, shimmering black tube and holds it out to you with an up facing palm.

You lean forward to glance at it. “Is that…lipstick?”

“Yeah,” he says, “the lady outside Sephora was giving out samples.”

You cross your arms at your chest. “The lady outside Sephora was giving out free samples of lipstick to you?”

“Can you just take it already? My arm’s starting to hurt.”

You swipe it from him and inspect it. Popping the cap open, you twist the cheap plastic adjuster so that the tip of the wax peaks out. It was a deep shade of red. “Did she try to talk to you?”

“Uhh, yeah. Something about how this new formula is smudge-proof or something. Was hoping we could test that out.”

You roll your eyes. “She probably wanted to test that out. With you.”

“What, are you jealous?”

“Not really, no,” you say and hand the lipstick back to him. He looks at you puzzled. “Lipstick isn’t really for me, sorry.”

“I literally saw you wear some the other day. That’s what gave me the idea,” he says, “of turning my dick into the shade of your lipstick.”

“Could you be any louder?” you hiss at him, glancing at a coworker who could’ve potentially been in earshot.

He shrugs and pinches the tube of lipstick between two of his fingers, holding it up between the two of you. “You sure you don’t wanna?”

Turns out you were not too opposed to the idea, but he had to earn it by making you cum a couple times in the janitor’s closet at the end of the floor. He likes having to earn the sight of you on your knees, it turned him on way more than he had expected.

“My jaw is so fucking sore,” he complains, opening and closing his mouth a few times to stretch it out, then runs a hand across his jawline. “You were a lot less sensitive today. Took way longer.”

“Maybe you’re just not as good as you think you are,” you say, pulling the buckle of his belt loose, sitting back down onto your heels to get more comfortable while you undress him.

“Bullshit. Should’ve used that insult maybe the first or second time I gave you head. It’s too late now, after the filthy things you’ve said to me in your desperation to cum.”

He watches you flutter your lashes a few times, fingers stopping their movements, and you shift a little from where you were seated on the ground. You were aroused, but still committed to the attitude. “I don’t have to do this for you, you know.”

He shudders a little. “Wait, you seriously don’t want to? You don’t have to.”

You sigh. “You were supposed to demand me to do it anyways. Would’ve been hot.” You pull his belt loose and your thumb and index finger pinch the button open with ease. “You don’t wanna fuck me, though?”

“Of course I want to fuck you, I will always want to fuck you. But the last time we got rowdy in here, I almost killed you when I knocked the shelf over.” A chill runs down his spine. “Not taking any more chances.”

You giggle a little at the memory while zipping down the front, then your fingers dig into the fabric of both his slacks and his boxers, pulling them down until he’s sprung free, fully thick and hard, courtesy of the cute sounds you were making earlier while his tongue was playing with your clit.

“Are you not gonna put the lipstick on?” he asks.

“No.” You grab a hold of him mid-way, giving an experimental tug, and raise from your seated position onto your knees.

“But—”

“I told you, lipstick isn’t my style,” you say, eyes flickering up to him when you kiss the tip. He sucks a breath in.

“Damn, okay. I was genuinely curious if it was smudge proof. The lady was really hyping it up,” he says and he sees your shoulders drop.

“Enough of the Sephora lady,” you mumble, pressing your lips against his tip again, but as less of a kiss.

There’s a sulk in your posture from where you look up at him on your knees. His heart does this weird thing where it aches a little, and he wants to get rid of the pout on your face with a few sweet words, but he settles for pushing the tip of his cock past your lips instead. Works all the same in the end. “Good girl,” he groans when you take him all the way to the back of your throat, and your fingernails dig into the skin of his thigh as you let out a muffled moan.

“Fuck…” He pulls his hips back slightly, allowing you to adjust, but when you swallow and his tip feels the roll of those muscles, he’s pushing into your mouth again. “C-Can you take more?”

You try your best to give him a nod and you bob your head once, tongue swiping over the vein that was throbbing the proof of his need for you right now.

“I’ll finish fast, baby,” he tells you, voice husky, fingers combing through your hair gently, “just take it how I want it, and I promise I’ll be quick, okay?”

You nod again, thumb rubbing the skin near his groin in reassurance. You squirm a little and press your thighs together when he grips your hair tighter now, encouraging your head to bob up and down on him, and you do as he wants. Your cheeks hollow out, sucking on him, and he swears he’s already close to cumming.

“Yeah…fuck, yeah,” he grunts under his breath, “good. Just—just like that. You’re so good. Pretty girl,” he juts his hips forward to see if you can take it, and you do, “on her knees for me.”

Your throat vibrates with a moan, and he sees you squirm even more. You take him all the way in, to a place deeper than the back of your throat, so well without a gag but there’s a prickle of tears in your eyes, and he rubs your cheek softly while he feels the sweat collect at his temple. “Oh fuck, I’m— shit, baby. I’m close.”

You drag your lips across his length, retreating with a thorough hollow to your cheeks, and release him with a pop and your tongue stuck out connecting a string of your spit to his tip. Your hand immediately starts to rub him up and down as you look up, and the soft panting leaving your lips and fanning across his cock has him swallowing hard. “S-Sorry, needed a break.”

“That’s okay,” he says, swiping at some of the saliva pooled at the corner of your lip. “Take your time.”

You kiss his tip in acknowledgment, then take him in again, this time both hands working at the base as you bob up and down, more free with your moans and the sensation of them reverberating in the canal of your throat makes him grip your hair with both hands, desperate.

“Yes—fuck, yes,” he grunts, head tipping back and hitting the door. “Real close. Your mouth feels so good, you’re driving me insane.”

You suck on him, hard, taking him in to his favorite place that’s at the back of your throat, and when your hand reaches out to play with his balls, paired with the sensation of fast exhales through your nose onto the skin of his groin, his eyes close shut and strained and he’s jerking his hips forward to spill his cum down your throat. “Fuuuuck. Oh my god.” He exhales, watching you swallow over and over again as he pumps into your mouth, then he slowly pulls out when he feels that he’s done.

You sit back down on your heels, hands now neatly folded on your lap, looking up at him and his thumb prods at your bottom lip for you to open your mouth. You do as he wants, tongue hanging out in the process, and he sighs in satisfaction when he sees you’ve swallowed it all. “Beautiful, baby. Come here.”

With a hand wrapped around your arm, he gets you up on your feet and kisses you. You hold onto the fabric of his shirt for purchase, and he pulls away to rest his forehead against yours. “Doing okay?”

“Mhm,” you nod, tightening your grip on his shirt, “I liked it. Liked it when you said I was good.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “More than good, angel. You’re perfect.”

—

“C’mon, it’ll be fun. You look like you could use a break,” Gojo says to you in Victoria’s Secret on a random Saturday morning. He usually always works on Saturday, but he’s never seen you here on a Saturday before. Apparently you were picking up extra shifts since you were going on vacation next week, something about a wedding in Spain. But you’d worked six consecutive shifts in a row, and the exhaustion was starting to show.

“I don’t know…your store scares me,” you respond back to him. You were behind the register, and he was pretending to buy forty-two pairs of panties just to talk to you.

“It’s not scary. I just want to show you around,” he says, standing up straight from where he had been leaning over the counter.

You eventually give in, toying with your name badge as you make your way around the counter to him, eyeing the smile on his face before he leads you through the aisles and eventually across the mall to the Rolex watch store.

It wasn’t horribly busy for a weekend, but there were still a few clients around. Choso was helping out a regular, a man who has bought four $200k watches within the past two months, and Choso’s been biting his nails worried he’s going to have to play witness in a tax evasion court case should that client eventually get caught by the IRS for fraud one of these days.

Suguru comes around the corner the second he sees you walk through the polished glass doors, and Gojo’s already annoyed.

“Hey, it’s the new hire,” he greets you, stretching his hand out and you accept it in a shake. “I’m Suguru.”

“Not really new here anymore,” you say to him after introducing yourself, “been here for a couple months now.”

“Oh really? Time flies. Thanks for all the shows, by the way,” he jerks his head off to the Victoria’s Secret store, “I’ve enjoyed watching the 101 ways you can remove a bra on a mannequin. Might have to incorporate some of them into my personal life.”

Gojo scoffs. “Yeah right, like a woman would let you within a hundred feet of her bra.”

Suguru raises an eyebrow with a sleazy smirk on his face, before leaning closer to you. “Should we prove him wrong about that, darling?”

Gojo hates the way he sees you blink your lashes at him and blush, so he’s grabbing your hand and walking you across the store, away from Suguru. He circles you around to the back near one of the display counters. Ladies’ new Datejust models, pretty classy and feminine. He walks to behind the counter, with you staying on the other side, like you were a genuine sale.

“See anything you like?” he asks, resting his elbow on the glass and peering down through it.

You blink at him. “Uh…of Rolex watches?”

“Yeah.”

“Mm…” you press your index finger to your chin and glance at a few. “I like that one.” You point with that same finger and he follows the line with his eyes.

“Hm,” he says, using his key to unlock the case, then slides the opening to the side to gently pull the watch out. “Oystersteel and yellow gold, 18 karat. Wanna try it on?”

“Sure.”

He releases the safety clasp, pulling apart the band, and slides it through your hand down to your wrist, then fastens the clasp until he hears a click. You immediately raise your wrist up into the air, twisting it to assess, and there’s a sparkle in your eyes.

“How much is it?” you ask.

“Thirty.”

“Thirty-what?”

“Thirty-thousand.”

Your jaw drops. “Oh my god. Get this thing off of me.”

He laughs and his hands find the clasp at your wrist, unfastening it and you’re trembling a bit as you shake it off before he catches it in his palm. “Not my fault you literally chose one of the most expensive watches we have in this section.”

“This is insane. How do people afford any of these?” you ask, feet wandering and now you’re clearly curious as you inspect the cases.

“We have more affordable watches available for lingerie store workers,” he tells you, clicking his tongue to get your attention and you turn around then follow him to the other end of the counter. He points at the glass. “These are all under three-thousand.”

“Oh…” you peer at them with interest, and he watches you. His eyes fall to your wrist.

“Here,” he says, sliding the display case door open, and pulls out another watch, “I think you’d look nice in this.”

He shows it to you for a second before releasing the clasp and holding onto your hand to slide the watch through it. After fastening it, he looks up at your expression, and his heart’s beating a bit faster. You turn your wrist in the air to marvel at the watch, and he thinks your eyes look stunning from the way the shimmer of the watch reflects off of them.

“Wow,” you say.

“I knew you’d look good in anything rose gold,” he says, both elbows on the counter as he watches you, “this one’s only a couple thousand.”

You’re still a little speechless as you look at it, right index finger tracing the dial. He wants to buy it for you. He could, it’s not much of an issue, he’d just have to kiss goodbye to that used gaming PC he’s been eyeing on craigslist for the past couple of months, but something in his gut tells him it’d be worth it. Something in the soft look in your eyes right now tells him it’d be worth it.

“What are you thinking?” he asks, his voice quiet.

“That it’s beautiful,” you say to him, swallowing and then extending your wrist out to him. “Sorry, wearing it for too long. Probably lost a few hundred bucks in value just from the two minutes it was on my wrist.”

He shakes his head. “I’ll buy it for you.”

Your mouth gapes. “W-What?”

“I mean—if you actually like it. Then, I don’t mind,” he says, suddenly a bit flustered.

“Satoru. That’s insane. This is a two-thousand dollar watch.”

He shrugs. “I know, but it looks good on you. I can’t shoplift this one for you, though. But I’ll buy it if you actually want it. And if you lie and say you don’t like it, just to be nice, I’ll read right through it. So be honest.”

“I…” you start, “I really can’t accept that.”

His eyes are level with yours, and something about your persistence in your refusal just makes him want to buy it for you even more. But he’s not gonna push it anymore. He’ll just try to work towards a day where you’ll accept it from him. Where it won’t even be a question to want to decorate you in something as pretty as you are.

“Alright. Then give it back, it’s probably only worth a couple hundred now.”

a/n. hope you enjoyed!! this was fun to write. it was supposed to be longer but i cut it short so maybe part two lol?? i also wanna write versions for choso & suguru in this au lol maybe like a multi in one verse kinda thing haha i like the idea of a hot watch salesman trio. thank you for reading 💕

taglist: @ohsehuniiee @lost-resonance @whereflowerswenttodie @horisdope @therealestpussyeater @satorminniett @tobaccosunbxrst @alekssashka7 @ritsatoru @angrychinchillanoises @shleepyking @crimsonmarabou @mxlktae @bloopsstuff @slut-4-gojo @lil-cinn @wateronlyhaha @strawberiicreme @wintertoru @mo0nforme @whispersofbeskar @who-can-touch-my-boob @quinnyundertow @ramluvr @anthastudios @sabokunsmalia @ninjaturtletoes @rylierev @dvarlinggg @heyitsmirae @sleepyyammy @lofasofabread @lolthatsnice @tetsuski @bakuhoethotski @sureconfused

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evilminji · 7 months

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Can You "Accidental Baby Acquisition" Yourself?

Like? Say you have a You... who is NOT You, obviously, but A You in the Multiversal sense... and their childhood suuuuuucked. Just? Truely awful for reasons beyond their control.

Such as the veil NOT being so easily peirced in their reality and humanity a bit more... Reactive(tm) to ectoplasm, due to the lower concentration of it in the Everything of their Universe. Which makes their parents research? Unattainable. Dangerous.

Ultimately fatal to their elder sister.

And then later, them.

Not that they were even the loving if wildly eccentric parents most of the other You's KNOW and have. Due to that very say research and their long-term exposure to their own samples. The Reactivity.

"Pit Rage" as some circles call it.

They weren't themselves. Stopped BEING themselves long before their children ever came into the picture. If they could think clearly, they would BEG for someone to save their children. From them. From their house of horrors. From what they've become.

And well? You exsist outside of Time. In the Zone. Maybe you have a wide and crazy adventure with this grizzled, worn, badass of a You. Figure he's pretty cool. Ask if he needs anything. And he laughs this broken glass in your chest sort of sound and says:

"Not unless you could give me a real childhood."

Like? Dude. Buddy. My buddy dude. Gonna have to explain that one. You can't just drop that and walk away. We Crazy Action Bros Adventure(tm) bonded. You can tell me. And reluctantly... he kinda does.

And... Look. You exsist outside of TIME. Your mentor IS Time. You can TOTALLY do that.

This.

But like? You realize... there wouldn't be TWO of you... right? If you take mini-Bamf out of the timestream at point A... you, big guy, stop existing at every instance of point B and onwards.

Yeah. Yeah, he gets that. Fully consents. His life was full of bad decisions and dramatic bullshit. He wants a real childhood. His sister back. Wants them BOTH out of that house and somewhere safe. If he could do it himself, he would. Call it his fucked up way of healing. Finally facing his trauma. It's haunted him long enough.

.....well then. Now You've got a baby and a fussy toddler. They have superpowers because of course they do. That house was OSHAs waking nightmares and deepest fever dreams. Jazzypants is hungy. And baby You did a stinky.

This is Fine(tm).

You're a King! You can TOTALLY handle this! Teeeeeemporarily. Since it's not like they can stay HERE. The Zone is literally uninhabitable long term for the living. So time to fire up the ol Brain Meats. Gremlin Ideas formulating. Loading... Loading... Loooooooading. Got it!

You kidnapped them.

Brilliant! FRIGHTY! Where's the Trenchcoat Booze Slu-...SLUHeuth. Sleuth! Totally what I was planning to say, Starshines! Don't curse. Cursing Bad~☆

The Detective Of Loose Morales in The Trenchcoat, who's Soul I Own, Frighty! Where's he at?? *Distant muffled answer* Close enough! Time to give him a heart attack! And throw a fight! Can you toss me a nightmare medallion? I need to instill mortal terror! Thaaaanks, Frighty! Also can you change diapers? *affirmative noises* Ancients, you're the best.

Smash cut to John Constantine. Busting up some cult, as you do. When? Oh fuck. The leaders heading for the store room! Not today, fucker! They fight. They struggle. It's Manly and Gritty and dramatic! When?

A terrible CRASH. Some artifact must have activated. What... have you DONE? *dramatic musical sting* swirling green and DEATH radiates out from a pin prick of nothing. A black hole in reverse. The cold oblivion of space, given bones to claw its way free. Eyes that sear in colors too technicolor and hypersaturated to be mortal. Green. Green! GREEN.

Ice and stars and death and a terrible, unspeakable Crown.

Two... two little sprogs. Tiny bits of nothing in a monsters hand. KIDS, wrapped up in something they never should of even had to nightmare about. John's eyes catch on red, red hair. A tiny little headband with butterflies on it. Pressed so close to dark locks, as she wraps herself around her little bits of a sibling.

The other ones dressed up in stars.

Someone SOLD their fuckin KIDS. Or this damned this STOLE them. It doesn't matter. Not now, not to John. Because this bastard isn't keeping them. He slides like breathing into the waves of luck and chance, odds and fate. Is on his feet and drawing attention. Whatever it takes, he's leaving here with those kids.

He laughs and it's not a kind one.

"Oi! A word if you will?"

@hypewinter @hdgnj @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe @ailithnight

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #danny tricks John in taking the munchkins #john TOTALLY won these infants fair and square guys #he says showing up covered in ash to the next meeting #with two toddlers he has no idea what to do with #so uuuuh #anyone want two kids?#batman put your fucking hand down

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merakiui · 8 months

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Mera, I'm going to need to hear (a lot) more about your reverse harem otome game thoughts. So... give us some imagines about your favorite characters there!

Oooo there are so many thoughts I have regarding it!!! Allow me to share them below. :D

To start, I imagine it’s a little awkward for you because in your world they’re just characters in a game, so for a while you have to follow the plot and avoid saying anything that may raise eyebrows or evoke suspicion (i.e. you have to live through the game’s events as they happen so you can avoid ruining any of the canon events that must take place in order for appropriate character development and whatnot). But also it’s fun to imagine a reader who is awkwardly trying to avoid raising the romance meters and just wants to enjoy school life with Grim. Alas, that will never be the case, not in this otome! >_<

For a reader who has arrived to twst with the burden of an arranged marriage waiting at home, it may be a little stressful to suddenly find yourself in the middle of a reverse harem romance. Maybe you don’t put forth much effort because you’re more interested in exploring the school and the island itself, but in classic otome logic you keep ending up in all kinds of situations with them. Maybe you don’t want to get too attached to anyone because you’re not sure what will happen once you’re sent home, if such a thing is even possible. It’s not like you can just bring him back to your world to get your parents off your back. But then friendship is a dangerous line to tread because it won’t lead to fluffy and sugary-sweet outcomes. You have to stay within the romance parameters. Too low and he’ll snap. Too high and he’ll snap. So to remain in the middle, you do your best to navigate interactions with ease. You don’t even try to impress, and yet he’s charmed by you.

It's also fun to imagine that the romance starts innocent and sweet at first, but then one of the characters says something about how he'd keep you locked up if he could and then you realize, "Oh, so it's a romance like this..." ^^;;;;;;

Riddle is difficult to romance. Pre-Overblot, that is. Every minor infraction, every instance he catches you with your uniform worn askew, and every moment he sees you associating with the troublemaker that is Ace puts your score in the negatives. Riddle’s more prone to snapping at you when his score is so dreadfully low, vicious and cold as he lays down the Heartslabyul law. You’re collared on many occasions. After his Overblot, he’s softer (especially on you) and it’s very easy to curry favor with him. The smallest things have his romance bar rising, such as when you compliment him or remind him that he’s doing well. You think Riddle struggles with romance because his meter rises and falls often, most likely due to his own uncertainty with this subject. He’s not someone you’d classify as an inherently dangerous love interest. Although he does get immensely controlling and obsessive if the score surpasses its peak.

Trey is a difficult character to read. His meter almost never goes up. At least, you never see it go up with your own eyes. It’s usually after the interaction. You meet again and the bar may have gone up a few points since your last meeting. You suspect Trey loves in secret, coveting from afar. The score rises considerably when you bake with him or when you try his sweets. It’s not wise to fall into this habit because trusting Trey is not a good idea. Keep eating his cooking and you might just find yourself waking up in his room, with Trey sitting nearby and explaining that you “fainted.” There’s more behind that placating smile he shows everyone… He’s prone to gaslighting you terribly if his score peaks, and it’s done out of some twisted form of love. After all, you can trust and rely on someone friendly and reliable like Trey!

Cater’s meter seems broken most days. Sometimes it never budges an inch, remaining at zero. But there are moments where it spikes high, so high it felt like a slap the first time you saw it happen. You never know what the catalyst is for this strange score-spiking. Is Cater truly interested in you, or is he just using the new magic-less student from another world to gain Magicam clout? But then his score always rises when he’s taking photos of you. Maybe there’s more to him than you’ll ever know. Cater is so mysterious. He acts like a bestie, but that unpredictable score of his says otherwise. It’s hard to say whether he’s dangerous or not, but if his score strays too high he may become just a little unstable. :)

Deuce’s meter fills fast. He can’t help falling for you. You’re more than a friend or a best friend. That much is obvious when his bar remains nearly filled the longer you spend hanging out with him. It’s easy for Deuce to love you because he’s been with you since the very beginning, and the two of you attend class together. For this reason, he’s very overprotective of you, occasionally reverting back to his delinquent ways if some guys give you trouble. He tries to avoid this, but if his score is beyond the healthy amount then it happens more often.

Ace is another character who is always in close proximity with you. Like Deuce, he grows closer with you throughout the happenings in the main story. And even outside of that, he continues to attend class and hang out with you. You see a lot of Ace, not only because he's a classmate but also a friend. Ace's romance bar doesn't fluctuate often, and in the beginning stages of your friendship it remains relatively low. But by Scarabia's book, when he and Deuce travel all the way back after getting your SOS text, his bar's score has increased. It seems over the winter break Ace managed to sort out his feelings, and from there he is always bickering with Deuce over little things regarding you.

Leona's bar never budges, mostly because he rarely gets caught up in romantic moments with you. But there have been a few rare happenings. You can never tell what goes through the lion prince's head. Sometimes you impress him, but then he says it's only because no herbivore can possibly be as gullible as you. Yet, oddly enough, there's fondness hidden behind the layers in his words. Once he pat you on the head, muttering some sort of compliment, and then he paused, lifted his hand, and looked at it so strangely. You tease him for it and he scoffs and tells you you're lucky his claws weren't out. Unlikely story, Leona. :) and as he walks away, you spot the meter filling ever so slightly.

Ruggie can't take anything you say or do at face value because he's certain you have some ulterior motive. So when you offer part of your lunch to him or offer to help him with running errands for Leona, he tries to turn you down. Just what is with you and being so good? He doesn't trust that. There must be some other reason you keep offering... But he finds that he doesn't hate your company and it's actually quite enjoyable to have someone to talk to when he's busy with errands. That, and you somehow keep up with his pace. Before he realizes, he's falling. Fast. And it's this sudden, whirlwind attachment that leaves you with a starstruck Ruggie, whose affection meter rises quickly.

Jack is difficult to romance in the beginning. Unlike some of the other characters who warm up to you rather quickly, Jack keeps his distance. Very much a classic lone wolf type. But once he gets to know you better and the two of you reach a level in which you can consider one another friends, he starts to fall for you. Jack is innocent in his affections. He looks out for you and is the first to defend you when anyone gives you trouble. He's teased for acting like a loyal puppy in love, which flusters him greatly, but Jack really does want to protect you and help you out. His romance meter increases in very small increments, but it's clear that he has quite the soft spot for you. He's one of the few characters with a mostly fluffy route.

Azul keeps his heart guarded, so naturally it’ll be a challenge to raise his romance meter. According to canon, he’s interested in you for two main reasons: you’re not from this world and he wants to use Ramshackle as a branch café. Throughout the happenings of book three, where you scheme against him to save your friends (Ace and Deuce’s bars rise because of your efforts) and the rest of the students from eternal servitude, Azul starts to harbor an interest. By the end of the book, when you have a heartfelt one-on-one chat with him in the Atlantica museum, he’s smitten. From then on, his bar is prone to rising and crashing just as fast. Being apart from you seems to have effects on the score, and he has a nasty jealousy streak.

Jade is another character who is difficult to read even with the romance meter. For the time that you know him, it never goes up or down, remaining somewhere between zero and five at most. He is very difficult to romance, namely because he seems to foil every cliché that comes your way. Forgot an umbrella? That's fine; he'll just cast a spell to protect you and him from the rain. Not enough money for lunch? That's unfortunate (for you). If you're truly desperate, you can make a deal with Azul. Bumped into him in the hall? Unlikely. He side-steps you just before you can collide, which leaves you falling face-first on the tile. You were ready to cross him out on your list solely because he feels like an impossible route, but one day you mention something about one of his interests and Jade perks up, his meter filling considerably. Like most of the cast, he wants you all to himself. But then he's also willing to make an exception and share you with Floyd.

Floyd's score starts at the very middle. Even when you meet him and he calls you Shrimpy for the first time, the meter has already filled. It's easy for Floyd to get attached, but it's dangerous because regardless of how high or low the meter is he's still quite obsessed with you. He shows up whenever he wants, sometimes at Ramshackle just to lounge around. His behavior is always sporadic; you get used to his unpredictability. When Floyd's in a bad mood, his score tends to diminish. It's not usually your fault; maybe Floyd saw you with some other students and got jealous. There are a variety of explanations, really. Most days, his meter is overfilled and so as a result he's more prone to picking fights to protect you or monopolizing your time by scaring others off. Like a leech, he clings to you.

Kalim feels like a love at first sight type! He thinks you're so darling the moment he meets you, and he's already wanting to spoil you. Despite his outgoing nature, his bar doesn't seem to rise much. Maybe it's just because he's so overly friendly with everyone that he's yet to see you in that way. But after more than enough romance moments between the both of you, he's wholeheartedly in love. He's the most obvious with his feelings and intentions, but then with the meters it becomes clear to you how everyone feels about you and where they currently stand on a scale. orz but Kalim is different in that he has no shame or embarrassment in approaching you outright to shower you in expensive gifts. He means well, but he doesn't realize just how much he's spoiling you. Although it is nice to be doted on to such an expensive degree.

Jamil is another character whose feelings are tough to read from the romance meter alone. It hardly rises; in fact, you think his score may be in the negatives. For the longest time you think he dislikes you solely because Kalim likes you and that makes his job harder when he has to prepare feast after feast for you. But after you tell Jamil to relax or offer your help or even explain that you don't need an entire feast, he starts to slowly, very slowly, warm up to you. You make the mistake of telling him he'll always be important to someone and that he should just do his best regardless of what others say—that he shouldn't have to diminish his capabilities or qualities just to let someone else overshadow him—and that's the arrow through his heart. Maybe you aren't as bad as he once thought...

Vil is a challenge. He has standards, and when you first meet him he compares you to an unwashed spud. It's clear that if you ever want to pursue a route with Vil you'll have to do something to catch his eye or earn his approval. The two of you likely grow somewhat close during the VDC and even more so during the happenings of book six. Outside of those main story events, you occasionally cross paths with Vil and sometimes you'll talk briefly. These interactions stick with Vil even after you've parted ways, and without even realizing it you occupy his thoughts. He's never had anything like this happen (at least, not when it comes to romantic interests), and if you're able to capture his attention so suddenly like this it must mean something. What that something is, whether love or otherwise, he will find out. And his romance meter will gradually rise as he does so. :)

Rook is a strange case. Everything he says sounds like it comes from an otome, but this sort of romantic flair is normal for the eccentric Rook Hunt. Though it's difficult to understand him and his real feelings, his romance meter is surprisingly honest and, unsurprisingly, just as shameless. It usually spikes when he's observing you from afar or if he's interacting with you in class. Rook is just so fascinated with you. You truly are curious, capturing so many hearts and seeming so unfazed. Just how do you do it? It's quite beautiful! He's already quite obsessive; if anything, the rise in his romance meter just makes him worse.

Epel thinks you're a godsend. You're the first person who didn't call him cute at first meeting! This automatically earns you points, and since he's also a first year like Ace and Deuce you'll likely hang out with him more often. The same applies to the other first years. Epel's interest in you stems from admiration. He genuinely thinks you're a really cool person, and the more time he spends with you, getting to know you and such, the more he falls. He's hoping to win your heart! Although with so many others also vying for your attention, it's a challenge he's determined to undertake.

Idia is difficult to romance only because he never leaves his room, so despite the lack of interaction he's been watching you from the very beginning. His romance meter is stubborn because he can't possibly fathom liking someone who isn't 2D, and yet here he is, salivating over you like you're a rare item in a game. ^^;;; Idia builds up his ideal version of you in his head, which is the only reason that meter rises at all. Of course he absolutely fails talking to you in person, for he's much too shy and anxious to approach you. You actually steal his heart when you smile at him while he talks to you through the text-to-speech program on his tablet. And then you say, "We can start small. Don't push yourself to do something you're not comfortable with." And omg he's going crazy. Who allowed you to say something so cool and so nice and so sweet?! >_< he's overheating because he's so shocked... orz

Malleus is a character who feels like the otome's endgame. He's charmed shortly after your first meeting. It's as if he was destined to fall for you with how quickly his romance meter fills. Despite his sweet and seemingly innocent affections, most of which are friendly because romance is very new to him, your romance moments with him only bring the two of you closer together. You spend a long time in the friend zone because Malleus mistakes every little gesture as something platonic or friendly. He's a little romantically dense at times, so you can never tell if his meter is filling because he likes you as a friend or something more than that. Don't be fooled, though. As sweet as he seems, Malleus is overwhelmed with the instinct to keep you close and forever his. Call it a dragon's nature to hoard or his own fear of being lonely again, but he can't let you go.

Lilia's romance bar remains relatively low because he's more like a spontaneous event. He pops up so randomly, so every encounter with him really does feel like fate. Lilia likely knows of you because you're the human Malleus has been spending time with, and he's so very fond of you. You'll just never know this because it's impossible to know what he thinks of you when he's so mysterious and vague in how he speaks sometimes. But you do have prior knowledge about Lilia (and all of the other characters from playing twst in your world) and so it's not so surprising to suddenly find yourself in an encounter with him. His romance meter usually rises when he sees or hears of how kind you've been to Malleus, Silver, and Sebek. You're just the sweetest. He adores you (too much).

Silver is the princely type! Your meeting is a typical otome cliché: he's sleeping and wakes up to you standing over him, and the sun shines down on you at just the right angle, which makes you look breathlessly angelic. And...he falls right back asleep, so you end up having to drag him to class so he won't be late. Perhaps that last part isn't very romantic, but Silver is quite touched by your kindness and also apologetic for causing you such trouble. To make it up to you, he wants to do a favor for you, only you insist he doesn't have to. He ends up sticking near you for the entire day until you finally give him something to do so he can repay your kindness. orz and afterwards, his romance meter has risen. <3

Sebek is another difficult route, mainly because of his devotion to Malleus and Lilia. He's very focused on becoming the best possible royal guard, and so it seems like he wants nothing to do with you. He makes it quite clear with how huffy he gets, always calling you "human" and not by your actual name. His romance meter never moves an inch up. If anything, it remains abysmally low. However, the more time you spend with Sebek, constantly correcting him with "It's (Name), not human!" and insisting you and Malleus are only friends when he accuses you of spending so much time with Malleus (which really only happens by chance, mostly), he begins to see new sides of you. Without realizing it, adoration blossoms amidst the many arguments he has with you.

#twisted chit chat #rendy-a #you think it can't possibly get worse when you meet the characters from other schools #but then you see they have romance meters too orz #brb going to noble bell to pursue the rollo route <3

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lorkai · 5 months

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づ A/N: This idea has been living rent free in my head for a few months now and I finally had time to sit and write down. Might write a part 2 but idk yet. Also reblogs are appreciated!

Characters: Thirteen, Solomon, Simeon & Barbatos

There are stupid things that are expected to be common sense. For example, everyone knows that eating Solomon's food is an extremely dumb idea. Alas you are dumb and decided to eat the pasta he had made after one lesson you had; resulting in you gaining immortality.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Thirteen is the first being to notice the change. Your candle is forever frozen just like Solomon's, motionless, the flames static and the reaper is left in a mix of feelings when she understands what happened; what that terrible wizard have done to you, poor you and your beautiful soul and mortality. She questions you about it as soon as she sees you, no matter who is around, questioning you about your immortality, about what happened and if you are happy with your decision.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ For her, this was what you wanted so when she finds out that you didn't even know about it Thirteen doesn't know how to react. You recount the day's events to her, how you trained magic with Solomon and then had dinner with him. It's so comical, so unbelievable, several humans searched for a way to obtain immortality and you just had to eat the food that Solomon prepared for you. She is crying with laughter and rolling on the floor at this point, however, the reaper will be more than happy to help you find a way to undo your immortality if you so desire.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Solomon was by your side when Thirteen appeared suddenly and he is so surprised by this information. I mean, he doesn't understand how a simple pasta can make you immortal since he himself only became immortal through one of his failed experiments, but he also didn't know his cooking could do this??? He is not at all sad about the news as now he know his beloved apprentice will live forever, however, yes, immortality has its downsides; the death of friends and family, the pain of remembering how you forgot their faces, voices and cherished memories and there is nothing you can do to get them back.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ But he is here to support you in every difficult and painful moment as well as in the most joyful and happy moments. He's here forever to be by your side, to give you a helping hand and a shoulder to lean on. Though saddened he would help find a way to reverse your mortality if you truly wished for it.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Simeon's mouth had never been so open. You, immortal? How, when, why? He listens to you recount the day's events, but he still can't comprehend how Solomon's dish could do something like this. Simeon knows that the thing Solomon calls food is capable of doing, but being able to grant immortality to someone? By heaven, he doesn't even know what to say, he doesn't even know what to do. Do you need to be comforted? Do you want a hug? Are you well? He's more nervous than you are, honestly. Simeon tries to calm you down and offers solutions to your problems.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ When everything was done and said, he felt a little happy. Angels don't know what the pain of loss is like and he wishes he didn't know what it's like, he wishes he didn't live to find out what life was like without you. You're like a ray of sunshine, so cheerful and chaotic and a welcome part of his life.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Barbatos found out about it from Simeon. The embodiment of "disappointed but not surprised", if you subjected yourself to eating the horrendous pestilence that was Solomon's food then you knew the risks you were taking and didn't care. The lord of time holds back from giving you a good lecture as soon as he sees you. Who in their right mind would eat that??? Why, MC, why??? He wants so much to understand what you were thinking at that moment and what you are thinking now, what you feel now, becoming immortal can be a bit shocking, even more so with all the pros and cons that come along with the experience of being immortal.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ He is the one who helps you adjust to your new life as the years go by. The one who helps you get a house, new documents and teaches you how to deal with everything when things get too much. He already did it once to his master and now he's going to do it to you now. If you ask and Diavolo allows it, Barbatos will look into the future for a way to reverse your immortality. That's your wish and he respects it but then why does this possibility leaves an empty feeling in his chest?

#obey me #obey me solomon #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me thirteen #solomon x mc #solomon x reader #barbatos x mc #barbatos x reader #simeon x mc #simeon x reader #thirteen x mc #thirteen x reader

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002yb · 7 months

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I don't know, I just really like the idea of a reverse!robins au, you know??? Just little baby Dickie being an absolute menace to a slightly older Jason, and just being completely obvious with his little (huge, enormous, really) crush on Jason, and just Dick being a possessive and jealous little shit as a kid, before they started dating just cracks me up. And like everyone knows about his crush, but they all think its so cute and innocent, and it'll probably go away, right???? Right???? Something like this probably

https://www.tumblr.com/mlim8/691663407306440705/i-want-to-say-how-much-i-love-your-reverse-robins?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/mlim8/681971460563140608/jaydick-week-day-3-reverse-robins-soulmates?source=share

So I think I may have answered an ask with similar vibes here. (: Here's some thoughts inspired by the first link though! Super cute vibes, kudos to mlim8!

Dick emulating Kon because he genuinely believes Kon is the definition of c o o l g u y. Like, how else could Kon land Tim? The man is playing out of his league; he's a legend. Peak aspiration. Of course Dick is going to be smitten with his older brother's cool boyfriend; Dick needs to learn all the tricks of the trade. He's got his own babygirl to win over. C:

(The term 'babygirl' comes from an overheard conversation and while Kon laughs about it, Tim gets so embarrassed. Despite how he tells Dick to not say that, Dick refuses).

Anyway, Kon? Thriving. Some might call his moves cringe, but Dick is so earnest and hopeful and Kon feels like fucking superman no one can touch him. ;U;

Damian nagging both Tim and Jon about Kon's influence on Dick because Dick won't listen to him; he can't be deterred and Damian is losing his mind over how Dick keeps winking and finger gunning and throwing out these truly terrible, punny lines at Jason and ahhhhhhhh

Basically Damian not liking Kon because of the impact he's had in Dick's life. It's created a hassle for Damian, but more than that? Big brother might be a little jealous. ;3;

Extra detail: Damian didn't like Kon even before Dick came into the picture because he became a distraction for Tim. It's an ongoing argument between Damian and Tim, actually. Damian is convinced Tim keeps Kon around for the sole purpose of annoying him (this isn't the case, but Damian is convinced)

Tim scoffing about it and telling Damian that his envy is showing. Just get laid, damn.

Which Damian gets indignant because no )<

To which Tim smirks a bit and purposefully badgers, 'Alright, Brother Complex (affectionate nickname), if you're threatened by our baby brother stealing Jason from you, then—‘

And Damian hisses because shut up, Drake. Fuck forbid father hear such crass speak omfg Damian will bury Tim himself.

Jason does have a crush on Damian though. The brother complex goes both ways. Or rather, it's a transference sort of deal for Jason that lingers big time because in this verse, Damian chose to save Jason from Joker, consequences be damned. The point stands, Jason is very sweet on Damian.

When Dick realizes this, devastation. Betrayed by his own partner!? Because...maybe Damian would have a similar batman stint where Dick was his Robin?? Yes.

Anyway, Dick refusing to talk to anyone, even Jason. Which is how they all know Dick is distraught.

So despite how it pains Damian, they send in the b i g g u n s: Kon. (:

Who hypes Dick up so hard. Just a bro looking out for his little man, y'know? Kon might hype Dick up a bit too much though because when Dick finally leaves whatever high nook he's sequestered himself away in?

Dick walks right up to Damian and challenges him for Jason outright and the family is caught in a perpetual state of ∑(ﾟﾛﾟ〃) because omfg Bruce is right there watching this play out and Jason is his babygirl, first and foremost.

But Damian accepts the challenge if it means having his brother back. And Damian, the sap, kneeling and drawing Dick in for a hug because fuck, having Dick be mad at him? Someone so happy and hopeful and wonderful? It was like a stab to the heart ngl.

And yes. While Damian's brother complex persists, there's zero intent to act but he still plays into this challenge of Dick's because it's highly motivating for the little punkass twerp.

Meanwhile Jason is just...there. Dumbfounded after Dick winks and shoots finger guns his way with a declaration of: 'you're gonna fall for me some day, babygirl.' But don't worry, Dick will catch him.

And Tim groans because Dick, please.

#dickjay #jaydick #reverse robins au #timkon #hints of damijay

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20forty9 · 2 months

Text

I Didn't Mean To Haunt You

Chapter IV - Candles On Fire

Summary : The spirit spars with Maheas and doesn't realize the mistake it has made will lead to terrible consequences. You go on your first mission with other people, but it doesn't go all according to plan. You have to learn that it's okay to be vulnerable with people you are starting to trust.

Word Count : 9.4k

Contains : Violence. Very vague mention of top scars. I think that's it, please let me know if I'm missing anything!

Pairings : Gojo Satoru/Reader, Geto Suguru/Reader, Everyone/Reader (Reverse Harem)

Cross-posted on Ao3

A/N : So I know I said I wouldn't update in two weeks, but I lied. I lie for fun, apparently. I pumped this chapter out like my LIFE depended on it (confirmed Gege was holding the gun to my head... especially with those latest leaks brah I can't believe it). LOTS of Satoru and Gojo in this chapter! And just a short flashback to Suliman, probably the shortest one I've written so far... Some small fluff too, for once! I must really be feeling sick... I'm also curious, are there any characters you'd like to see more of? OR, actually, who are YOUR favourite characters from JJK that you'd like to see involved in the story? Remember, it's Multi x Reader, so it can be anyone! And is there anything you're not vibing with in this story so far? Feedback means the world to me and keeps me logging back in every day to check if I have any new comments. Trust me, your support goes a long way and keeps me motivated, so thank you to my regular commenters!

Curiosity is the wick in the candle of learning. ~William Arthur Ward

Suliman is utterly obsessed with the spirit’s powers, to put it simply – though even that word couldn’t put enough emphasis on it. Every day, she would create training dummies of different sizes made out of her strange purple tendrils for it to use as target practice, showing off its destructive fire capabilities.

Though it was glad to be able to use an element without any drawbacks, the way Suliman observed, refusing to tear her eyes away for even one second, disturbed it deeply. Knowing her, she already had a few plans in mind on how to use it for her benefit.

After absolutely eviscerating another training dummy, Suliman approaches the spirit, stepping over the leftover ashes, slowly clapping her hands.

“Good,” she simply says. “I think I’ve had enough of you training on something like this. I have a better idea.”

With a click of her fingers, her entourage of men walk over, followed by the kid the spirit had an encounter with a little over a month ago – Maheas is his name , if it recalls correctly. The dirty-blonde boy holds a sword in his hand, donned in clothes appropriate for exercise. He looks up at the spirit anxiously, a small frown on his face, probably remembering their first meeting.

“Maheas, from this day forward, this spirit will train you,” Suliman explains to the boy, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. “You are my most promising acolyte, I want to shape you to be the best, and this will surely help you achieve your goal.”

His gaze drifts to the woman, apprehensive. But when she gives him a soft smile, it seems to weaken his resolve.

“I won’t let you down, Madame. I’ll work as hard as possible, and become even stronger than that thing!” Maheas points an accusatory finger in the spirit's direction. “I can probably beat it right now!”

“Oh, is that so?” She tilts her head to the side, the smile never wavering. “Well, why don’t you show me? Make me proud.”

“I would be honoured.”

Suliman takes a step back, followed by the men, giving both the spirit and the young boy enough space to spar.

Unimpressed, the spirit stands firmly in place, not moving a single muscle. It doesn’t want to fight a kid, but it looks like it has no other choice. It remembers their first encounter, when Maheas punched it in the gut and managed to summon enough cursed energy to do some damage in its weakened state. As long as it doesn’t let him hit it directly, it could end this fight in mere seconds.

“Prepare yourself, spirit!” Maheas says, pointing the tip of his sword in its direction. “I won’t go easy on you.”

It has to fight the urge to roll its eyes, raising its fists in front of its face and bringing its left leg forward a bit, bending at the knees. With a raise of a thick red eyebrow, it provokes the young boy enough to charge forward, swinging his sword back. The spirit side-steps his attack quickly just as he brings the weapon down right where it was standing, getting it stuck in the ground.

The sword must be slightly too heavy for Maheas, as he struggles to pull it out, giving the spirit just enough time to move a hand underneath the young boy’s arm, bringing him closer to it before it knees him in the stomach, just strong enough to knock him back and leave him breathless on the ground, but not enough to actually injure him.

Just like that, their fight is over – if you could even call that.

After taking a deep breath, Maheas sits back up, staring daggers at the spirit. If looks could kill…

“I want a rematch!” He declares, but when he tries to stand back up, his legs wobble and he immediately sits back down. After getting knocked down like that, the spirit knows he’ll need a few minutes before he can use his legs properly again. It motions with a hand for him to keep sitting, imitating deep breaths.

“I don’t listen to you,” Maheas says, though he does it anyway, crossing his legs and harrumphing.

“You did well,” Suliman says as a butler approaches the young boy with a glass of water. “You’ll only continue to improve as you train. I don’t want either of you to hold back on each other, do you understand me?”

That seems to be a dangerous request, the spirit thinks to itself. It looks over at the boy’s discarded sword laying on the ground, deciding to pick it up and weigh it in its hands. It is definitely too heavy for a boy of his height and weight, and also too restrictive. He’d do well with a polearm.

There’s a light smack to its side, bringing its attention to the red-faced boy who is – surprisingly enough – already standing on both legs, yelling at it.

“Put that down, it’s not yours!” He continues weakly punching it with his small fists.

It decides to look over the sword once more, completely ignoring Maheas, shaking its head in disappointment.

“What seems to be the problem?” It reads upon Suliman’s lips when it looks over at her.

She waves the butler over, who brings a piece of parchment paper and quill dipped in ink at the ready. The spirit looks at the objects, confused.

“You barely talk, so write what’s on your mind instead,” she says.

It hesitates as it grasps the quill, the tip of it pressing against the paper, still unsure. It doesn’t know how to write .

“My, you really are pathetic, aren’t you?” Suliman’s lips are still quirked up in a small smile as she gently berates it. “Fine, just speak instead.”

It swallows nervously, suddenly becoming increasingly more uncomfortable. It doesn’t know what vowels to emphasize or vocalize. It shakes its head no instead, pointing at the sword and making an ‘x’ with its fingers before gesturing at Maheas.

“Are you saying the sword isn’t a good weapon for him?” She asks, crossing her arms. Thankful she understood it, it nods. The young boy standing next to them looks mildly offended, stomping a foot on the ground.

“You calling me weak?!”

The spirit shakes its head back and forth again.

“I think it’s saying that another weapon would suit you better,” Suliman patiently explains it to him, and it nods at that. “If that’s the case, why don’t you show us what will work better?”

Each of the men that were standing on guard brandish their weapons, each of them being different. They stand tall, backs straight and situated in a line, and hold their weapon in the palm of their hands.

“Go on,” she encourages the spirit.

Its eyes scrutinize over each of them before they land on a man holding a polearm. It walks over to him, pointing at it then looking back at Suliman.

“Well, go on then,” she urges Maheas with a gentle push to his back. He reluctantly makes his way over to stand next to the spirit, taking the polearm from the man standing in front of the both of them.

The spirit notes that it’s definitely too long for someone of his height, but with a few adjustments, he’ll be able to move more swiftly and have more versatile attacks. It will significantly extend his range and striking power, too. Compared to the sword, this is a much better option for the young boy.

“How does it feel?” Suliman asks Maheas, observing him.

“It’s okay, I think,” he replies, weighing the weapon in both hands. He still seems unsure, but with time he’ll become more used to it.

“Wonderful. We’ll make you one that suits you better so you can properly train with the spirit by tomorrow,” she says, motioning at the man to take his polearm back.

The young boy smiles widely at the prospect of a new weapon, thanking her over and over again. Suliman pats him on the head in a motherly way, giving him a smile of her own, but the spirit notices that there is no genuine warmth behind it. She adjusts her dress slightly before leading Maheas away, leaving a request to the men to bring the spirit back to its room. She waves goodbye to it as she walks with the young boy through the gardens and back to the greenhouse.

The spirit can’t help but think it has made a grave mistake.

The following day after the big thunderstorm, you wake up with a sudden start, feeling your alarm clock vibrate underneath the pillow. You click it off, setting it on the nightstand, and immediately sit up, wiping the sleep away from your eyes. It feels like your blood is already pumping – today is a big day, after all. It’s your first official mission, no less a mission with other people. Today is a day where you can prove his worth and show your loyalty to the higher-ups.

You already have some clothes set aside for today – your usual sleeveless compression shirt and dark brown cargo pants and converse. After taking a shower and changing, you open the blinds to let in the morning sun shine into the room through the leaves of the trees outside. After the terrible weather from yesterday, it seems that today is a beautifully bright day.

You smile to yourself, grabbing your notebook and pen. Closing and locking the door behind you, you exit the dormitories, heading to Yaga’s classroom so your team can be debriefed. As usual, you’re the first one there, so you take a seat at the desk you claimed during your first time there, putting your legs up on the table.

“How are you feeling today?” Yaga asks as he looks up from his laptop, a pen in his right hand, papers in his left. It looks like he was doing paperwork for a mission the others must’ve been sent on recently.

You reply with a thumbs up and a bright smile, which makes the older man relax, leaning back in his chair. “I’m glad to hear that.”

While you both wait for the others to show up, you doodle silly drawings in the notebook to fight the boredom. You’re not an artist by any means, but it still helps to pass time. You drew the fish that were in the sign language book from yesterday, but this time, the koi fish is swimming happily with the two other betta fish in a small pond.

You get pulled out of your intense focus when a manicured finger taps down on the top of the notebook, bringing your gaze up to meet Shoko’s.

“Cute drawing,” she says, leaning over to see it better.

You sign thanks a little bit flustered, flipping the notebook to a blank page.

- How are you doing? :)

“I’m good, thanks,” she replies, hopping onto the desk next to your own. She turns to look at her teacher. “Am I on time, sensei?”

“Take a look at the clock yourself,” he seems to grumble.

Five minutes past their agreed meeting time. “Ehh, close enough.”

It takes another ten minutes for Gojo and Geto to show up together, fashionably late as always. Instead of wearing the hoodie he used to wear with the hood up to protect his eyes, Gojo has now switched into the full normal school uniform, along with the glasses you gifted him.

“Yo!” The white-haired man casually greets Yaga, a wide smile spread across his face.

“Fifteen minutes,” the man replies.

“Huh?”

“ Fifteen minutes late!” You can nearly feel the ground shake from how loudly Yaga yells. “Are you two morons ??!”

“Sorry sensei, it’ll never happen again, we promise,” Geto says, bowing at the waist in respect. When he notices Gojo doesn’t bow either, he shoves a hand at the back of his head to force him to follow.

You share a deadpan look with Shoko. You seem to be having the exact same thought — it’ll happen next week, guaranteed.

“...Well, now that you’re all here, we’ll debrief and you’ll leave as soon as I’m done explaining,” Yaga says, closing his laptop and setting his papers in a neat pile. “This curse has been reported near an abandoned concert venue, just on the outskirts of Hachioji. It’s a bit of a drive, but bear with me. It shouldn’t be too difficult–” he levels a deadly look in Gojo’s direction, “–it’s a simple Grade 2. Just remember to put a veil up, and don’t get injured. Shoko is staying behind today.”

“No complaints from me,” she says before rolling her head side to side, trying to loosen up a kink in her neck.

“Behave, you two,” he tells both Gojo and Geto before turning to you. “And you… just– I don’t know, do what you usually do, but don’t be a pain in the ass.”

You salute him with a goofy smile spread across your face, making the teacher glare at you halfheartedly. Unbeknownst to you, the two young men in the room snicker behind you at your behaviour.

With the meeting adjourned, the three of you walk through the Jujutsu school’s campus to make your way to the transport car, where the driver waits for you patiently. You all clamber into the car, Gojo sitting in the passenger seat because of his ridiculously long limbs. He seems that he doesn’t know what to do with them either, awkwardly shifting the seat back to make enough room to be comfortable. You sit directly behind him with Geto to your right.

The car immediately speeds off, the view of trees and houses quickly blurring together. You wistfully look out of your window. The sun shines brightly through the leaves of the trees, making you squint a little and turn your head to the right, facing Geto instead, who is already looking at you.

“Are you looking forward to exorcising your first curse?” He asks, resting his cheek on his fist.

Thankful you didn’t forget your notebook today, you quickly write on the paper.

- Yes, I hope we’ll make a good team. I’m aware you two are capable, but we should learn to work as a team properly. And I’m NOT(!!!!) just saying that because I’m scared of what Yaga might say if we end up causing a mess, I genuinely want to help with making Tokyo more safe.

You doodle a small smiley face at the end of your paragraph, hopefully to drive your point home. You’re more than aware that the two of them are adept at this, but they can’t be the only two to do so. They should be able to rely on others, especially someone that doesn’t need as much rest, food or water like most humans do.

“It’ll be a learning experience, for sure,” the raven-haired man humbly replies, before his eyes seem to sharpen, sending a teasing look in your direction as he reads the rest. “You’re sure you’re not afraid of Yaga?”

You shake your head back and forth vigorously, your arms forming an ‘x’ in protest. Absolutely, but I won’t tell these two that.

Gojo abruptly turns around in his seat, leaning over the center armrest (and apparently pissing off the driver while doing it) and shoves his phone in Geto’s face.

“Look, look!” He says, waving the phone around wildly in front of his friend’s eyes.

“Dude, calm down,” Geto scoffs, yanking it from Gojo’s hands to take a look. “Seriously, Digimon?”

“X-Evolution is finally out on DVD, we gotta watch it!!!”

“Didn’t you see that movie, like, six times since its release?” He raises an eyebrow, shooting him a judgemental look.

“Actually, it’s more like seven. Or eight,” he pauses, pushing his sunglasses up along the bridge of his nose. “Wait, actually, no, it was ten.”

“You look like a total nerd,” Geto looks down at the screen again. “And somehow you want to watch it again ?”

“Absolutely.”

The white-haired man says it with the most serious expression you have ever seen that you can’t help but snort lightly, covering your mouth with your hand when you realize it grabbed both of the men’s attention. For some reason, it makes you feel incredibly uncomfortable. So you settle back in your seat, leaning your head back and only turning your eyes back onto their lips to read the conversation once you’re absolutely sure Gojo’s piercing gaze is fixated back onto his friend.

“Let’s pick up the DVD after the mission,” he says, grabbing his phone back from Geto’s hands, still continuing to lean over the armrest.

“You mean you’ll pick it up,” he points at him. “I am not paying for that. You are literally rich.”

“But it’s more special and meaningful and romantic when we pay for something together!” He whines, wrapping his long arms around the headrest and hugging it in faux-comfort. This man truly loves bringing out the theatrics , you think to yourself.

“Allow me to disagree with you on that,” Geto says, a deadpan look on his face, before turning his head to the window.

He seems to be saying something else, you can tell by the way his jaw moves, but you can’t see his lips from this angle. Whatever it is, it makes Gojo laugh and point at him, but by this point you don't bother following the conversation anymore, too confused. What the hell is Digimon, anyways? What’s a DVD? Sighing to yourself, you look outside, watching the scenery pass by.

A little over half an hour passes by when the car makes it out to the outskirts, driving along a slim road. There are farmhouses and fields, buildings placed further apart from each other as it becomes more remote. Tokyo city has nothing compared to the lush greenery on Hachioji’s outskirts, and you can tell that it’s much more quiet here compared to the city. There’s no familiar rumbling of trucks that you have become accustomed to when walking along the pavement, instead it’s peaceful. You wonder if the birds chirp more loudly here.

The driver drives up a steep hill, and the distant sight of a mountain covered in thick, healthy green trees greets your group. The car goes up, up, up and around the streets that bend along the hill before you come across a split in the road. The driver turns to the left onto an unpaved road, gravel bouncing against metal, and suddenly the sun seems to disappear underneath the canopy of leaves.

The deeper you go onto this unpaved road, the less you come across houses, until there are none left. Instead, old, empty, rusty steel drums spray painted with arrows and different symbols replace them. There’s nothing around except for ‘ No Trespassing! ' signs.

The vehicle comes to a sudden halt, and you feel the door underneath your palm shake slightly, meaning that the car is unlocked. You open the door with your notebook in hand, happy to stretch your legs out after spending nearly an hour travelling. You feel the dry twigs snap underneath your feet, dead leaves brushing against your ankles. The smell of fresh air fills your lungs, and you take a deep breath in. This is as close to heaven as it gets . You reach back into the car to grab your polearm that was laying on the floor in its holder, putting the strap around your chest so the weapon can rest against your back, leaving your hands free.

There’s a quick tap on your shoulder, and you turn around to be face-to-face with Gojo, who looks at you over the rim of his sunglasses. Bright blue eyes stare at you, and you realize that it’s something that you’ll have to get used to, unless you want that smug bastard to tease you every time you get nervous from looking at him in the eyes.

“Let’s go,” he says, thumbing behind him. “We have to walk a bit, and the driver is gonna stay with the car. Hope you like to hike.”

You have to leg over the horizontal chain attached to two poles to block any cars from passing, and Gojo nearly trips over it, his hand immediately reaching out to your arm to steady himself before he can fall face first and accidentally eat a pile of dirt.

“ Nice one, ” you sign with an eyebrow raised, the white-haired man standing back at full height, rubbing his hands against his uniform as if trying to wipe your cursed energy off of his skin.

“I don’t know what you just said to me, but I don’t like your attitude, kiddo,” Gojo replies, taking a ‘ parent-disappointed-in-you ’ pose, arms crossed, hips jutting out. He’s about to retort with something else before he closes his mouth instead, jogging ahead to catch up to Geto, who was waving the two of you over impatiently.

“Let’s just get this over with instead of messing around, alright?” The raven-haired man sighs, an exasperated look on his face.

“You just wanna show off,” Gojo says, tucking his hands into his pockets before sauntering off.

None of you speak a word amongst each other until you make it to a big, rundown building. It’s not as big as a stadium, but the concerts held here back in the day must’ve been fun with such an open area.

“I wonder why they had a venue out in the middle of nowhere,” Geto says to you as he walks alongside you. “Seems a bit strange.”

- More space? Beats me.

You turn the page to face him after you finish writing, giving him a shrug of your shoulders.

You’re just about to ask where Gojo went until a flash of bright white hair makes itself known in the corner of your eye. You see him waving at you both, motioning you to come closer to the building.

“Slowpokes, over here!”

Geto rolls his eyes, but follows him inside, and you follow suit.

You’re greeted with a dark lobby, burst pipes leaking water and forming deep puddles on the ground. You can immediately feel the water seeping into your canvas shoes and socks, making your face scrunch up in distaste. At another glance, there are multiple stands labeled ‘Food’, ‘Alcohol’, ‘Merchandise’, and more. This must’ve definitely been a popular place. The paint is peeling off of the walls, and there’s graffiti sprayed against any space that isn’t occupied by mold or dirty, dripping water. You walk over to a concession stand, inspecting it and turning your back to the front doors where your group first walked in from.

“Do you think Nirvana played here?” Gojo asks Geto, pointing at the large closed doors, presumably leading to the concert hall itself.

“Are you fucking stupid?”

Gojo pouts, kicking a fallen piece of pipe on the ground. “Jeez, you only had to say no.”

Just as he’s about to open the big doors, he pauses, his whole body freezing up. Geto, upon noticing this, feels a wave of guilt wash over him, assuming his words actually insulted his friend.

“Hey, you know I was just kidding, right?”

“Get down!” Gojo whips around suddenly, calling out your name. Luckily, you had been looking at the two of them just as he spoke up, and the instant you read his lips, you duck, not even thinking twice. You feel a violent crack of air whip the top of your head – if you hadn’t moved in time, your head would’ve been sliced clean off.

Twisting your body around, you look up, coming face-to-face with a group of low-levelled curses, one of them having long, razor-sharp cleavers for arms. They’re all mangled and twisted, ribs protruding out of their sides and wearing paper masks with strange symbols trying to imitate facial features. Their skin is almost human-like, but the fact that every inch of them is somehow warped together quickly puts that thought to rest. You reach for your back, about to pull out your polearm from its sheath, but you’re beaten to the punch as Geto runs up behind you, launching himself in the air and kicking Razor-arms in the face, sending it stumbling backwards.

The other curses quickly retaliate, one of them trying to gain the upper hand while Geto is still in the air and grabbing his leg, slamming him down onto the hard floor. They’re about to bring down a finishing blow, but get interrupted by you finally taking out your polearm and slashing at their masks, making the group stumble back. Gojo immediately rushes over, splaying out his arms before bringing them together again and making rushed, complicated hand movements. The reaction is instantaneous – a large blue orb starts forming and the entire group of curses get sucked into it like a magnet, crashing together before turning into nothing.

You and Geto get back on their feet. You’re shocked at what you just saw, mismatched eyes wide in surprise. Gojo just completely evaporated those curses as if it was nothing to him, not even a single drop of sweat wasted on them. This must be why he’s on such a constant high horse .

The white-haired man looks at you in disdain. “You’re a cursed spirit and you didn’t even feel your own kind?” He rolls his eyes. Well, there’s that classic Gojo that you first met – so much for his unexpected kindness from yesterday.

You look around for your notebook, hoping to explain your lack of reaction better. Unfortunately, you find it where you nearly got decapitated, in a muddied puddle of water, completely ruined. Wonderful, you think to yourself. You can’t even be angry at the fact you were so careless just to toss it away at the first breath of danger, just annoyed.

“Maybe you didn’t want to kill them,” he continues, making your eyebrows raise. It was hard not to be genuinely offended by that comment. “After all, they’re you.”

“ They aren’t me at all, ” you try to be patient as you sign, but you can’t help the feeling of anxiety that pangs in your chest, eyebrows furrowed and lips downturned. This is not how you wanted your first mission with others to go.

“Satoru, that’s enough. If you want to nag them about this, do it later,” Geto interrupts the two of you, motioning vaguely to the big doors you had yet to go through. “Let’s get this done first.”

Gojo decides to heed to his friend’s demands, mercifully giving you some space. You trail behind the white-haired man, looking down at your water-logged shoes, feeling a heavy weight on your shoulders. That is, until Gojo grabs you by the bicep to tug you forward to walk beside him. Surprised at the sudden action, you look up at him.

“You’re too quiet, I won’t be able to hear if you get snatched up by a curse,” he explains through gritted teeth, looking up at the graffitied ceiling through his sunglasses. Refusing to actually acknowledge you, as if you’re more of an annoyance than teammate.

You look forward, not bothering to dignify him with a reply. A tight feeling in your chest makes itself known, unpleasant and uncomfortable.

“Seems weird to me that we haven’t run into the Grade 2 curse yet. Yaga didn’t tell us there would be any others besides it,” Geto turns around to face the two of you when you approach the door, an unsure look in his eyes.

Gojo shrugs nonchalantly, walking up to the doors and tugging on the handles to pry them open. As soon as they swing ajar, a thick cloud of dust permeates through the air, making all of you cough violently as you breathe it in. Carefully, Geto takes the first step in, taking a flashlight out of the deep pocket of his pants, turning it on to illuminate the concert hall.

The ceilings are high, and the venue has a main floor, balcony, and gallery. The seats are old and wrecked, a layer of dust, dirt and mold covering them all. Some are knocked over by miscreants, others are completely missing, and some are left untouched. The stage itself is decorated with even more graffiti, not a single inch left blank.

Geto and Gojo are conversing about something, standing closer to each other than before, and it frustrates you to no end that you can’t tell what they’re discussing because of how dark the room is. If only the windows weren’t blacked out, then the room would have just enough light for you to lip-read.

You’re about to wander off on your own to find the curse until there’s a powerful rumble underneath your feet, nearly making you lose your footing. Suddenly, a gigantic monstrosity crashes through the stage, sending wood and debris flying everywhere. The creature has multiple limbs, the most prominent features being its two front arms covering its ears, an unhinged jaw with far too many rows of teeth, with snot, sweat and tears running down every single orifice on its body. Its complexion is stark white, and there are strange neon tattoos along its other limbs.

This must be the curse Yaga was talking about.

This is definitely more powerful than a Grade 2 curse.

Even with your lack of awareness of cursed energy, you can certainly tell that this is far beyond whatever was reported.

There’s another powerful shake in the ground as the beast opens up its mouth, sending spittle flying everywhere. You ready your polearm, prepared to exorcise the curse, but you notice the lack of attack from your teammates. Gojo should be jumping at the opportunity to show off and waste another creature. Concerned, you take a quick glance behind your shoulder and notice that both Gojo and Geto are hunched over, covering their ears and clenching their jaws so hard that you can notice a prominent vein in the raven-haired man’s forehead popping out.

You run over to them, hesitantly placing a comforting hand on Geto’s back. Eyes that were once screwed shut crack open to look up at your worried gaze, and he weakly points to the huge curse on the stage.

It suddenly dawns on you – the rumbling wasn’t from the pure size of this curse breaking through the wall, it was from its mouth. It’s screeching so loud to the point where everything is shaking.

The curse stops screaming for a moment, turning its deformed body to look around, its singular huge eye locking straight onto you . A dense string of drool pools from the corner of its mouth onto the ground, creating a disgusting, thick puddle of mucus below it.

Taking the short distraction to his advantage, Gojo starts to make those complicated hand signs again, but unfortunately the curse notices too quickly – it opens its mouth to continue shrieking at your group, making glass shatter all around you. It completely incapacitates Gojo and Geto, whose hands immediately go to cover their ears again. Upon closer inspection, you notice drops of blood running down both of their jaws; the curse is so loud it makes their ears bleed.

And you can’t hear a thing.

The resolution comes to you much more easily than you expected. You grip your polearm tightly in your left hand, running forward to give yourself enough momentum to throw yourself upwards, twisting your body in the air to bring the blade of your weapon forward. Just as it’s about to pierce the skin of the curse, it opens its mouth and makes such a powerful blast of noise that it sends you flying back in the air, roughly landing on your back against some seats on the top floor, in the gallery.

You cough violently as the breath is knocked out of your lungs, but quickly gets back up onto your feet. The curse is already aiming one of its gangly legs in your direction, and you level it with a glare, unmoving until it brings its hand down. The second the large limb gets close enough for impact, you push your foot against the ground, sending you sideways and putting just the right amount of distance to avoid getting hit.

Its arm gets jammed between the seats and concrete of the third floor, and you take the opportunity to hop onto the forelimb, running along it and bringing your polearm forward to take yet another swing at the curse. Just as expected, the curse tries to screech at you again, so you jump up, going above its head and somersaulting in the air to bring your weapon down. Just as you feel the blade make impact with solid skin, a mouth appears right where the blade is and swallows it whole. You don't have enough time to register the shock, but still have half a mind to use the rest of your momentum to fall back down onto the ground floor, where your teammates are still hunched over, clutching at their heads in agony. You can’t even begin to imagine the pain that must be rattling throughout their brain.

You huff, wiping the sweat from your brow. With no more weapons in hand, you decide to take this curse seriously and be more cautious. This isn’t just a Grade 2 anymore, this is something definitely dangerous. But…

You don't want to use your powers in front of others. Knowing that you are capable of this destruction will only make others more fearful of you, and it’s the last thing you want. You don't want to be isolated again, or working and living with people who don’t trust you. You just want to help.

You’re considering his options, glancing back at Gojo and Geto for a moment, a wave of concern washing over you. If you don't get rid of this curse soon, they’ll probably lose their hearing completely, if they haven’t already. Fuck, if only things weren’t so damn complicated–

You see the shock written across Gojo’s face before you feel the impact against your side. His blacked-out sunglasses dropped down to the tip of his bloody nose, the sides of his face covered in blood, but he still had enough consciousness left in him to register the curse creeping behind you, eyes widening as it pulls back a large hand and whips you across the room.

You break through multiple layers of wood, feeling splinter after splinter embedding in your skin and ripping it open as they get caught onto other debris. Finally, you slam against the furthest wall, concrete cracking against your back from the sudden shock. Blood spurts from your mouth - definitely a few broken ribs - and you feel dizzy, but you can’t pass out just yet. You force yourself onto shaky legs, looking at the creature that seems to be preparing to release another bloodcurdling scream.

Fuck it.

There’s a sharp spike of pain that courses throughout your body as you raise your right arm, aiming at the curse. With a snap of your fingers, an enormous explosion of cyan fire mixed with purple flames ignites the entire stage, crawling across the curse’s skin and making it wail out in pain – or at least, that’s what you think it's doing. You can feel the heat against your skin, sparks igniting and scorching the exposed part of your arms, sweat beading your forehead. Tears and mucus fly everywhere as the curse’s limbs reach out for release, anything, from the burning that is spreading all along its body. Multiple hands crunch concrete and wood underneath it, bringing half of the ceiling down on top of it, but the flames burn brightly until the violent rumbling underneath your feet becomes a simple vibration, then turns to nothing .

You bring your right hand up again, palm facing the violent flames, then bring it back down to your side, making the fire dissipate completely, leaving behind a mountain of ashes and thick clouds of smoke in its wake.

And just like that, it’s over.

You breathe in and out deeply, ribs painfully screaming out in protest at the action, and you clutch at your side to try and alleviate the pain. That curse had quite the punch to it , you think to yourself. Looking up, you walk through the smoke to return to your teammates and check on them. The uncomfortable warmth from using your fire lingers in the building, making you feel like you’re in a sauna. Your nose scrunches as you wipe the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand, only to feel the moisture gather again.

You know they’ll be horrified and disgusted. You feel a pang of sadness and guilt – they’ll never want to face you again. Gojo was right, you are a cursed spirit. You’ll only bring destruction and death to the people around you. You’re a monster.

You do not expect the sight in front of you. Geto smiles at you in relief when he sees you appear through the thick clouds of smoke, though his eyebrows are knitted in concern when he sees you clutch your side. Gojo, however, beams at you, bright white teeth on display. His hands are covered in blood, but he doesn’t seem to mind it in the least.

“Holy shit, why didn’t you tell us you could do that?!” Gojo exclaims, walking up to you and wiping the blood on the pants of his uniform. “You’re not as weak as I thought you were.”

You stare at them, confused. Shouldn’t they be worried that you’d use this power against them? Isn’t this exactly what Gojo and the council of elders were afraid of? Eyes unblinking and unfocused, you give him a half-hearted shrug, feeling like you can barely move a muscle all of a sudden.

This feels wrong. Bile rises at the back of your throat as uneasiness creeps along your spine – shouldn’t you be punished for unleashing your power like that? Gojo and Geto are obviously putting up a front. As soon as you all return to the school grounds, you’ll be thrown into confinement again, you’re sure of it. There’s no way this can end well for you.

“Damn, my head is killing me,” Gojo says, bringing you out of your inner turmoil. “Let’s head back, I need to fix my poor eardrums.”

Geto wordlessly follows, your eyes glued to the ground below you as your eyes go back to feeling clouded, mind feeling foggy as your body moves on autopilot. The tips of your fingers are tingling, hands and arms feeling numb as you feel like you’ve detached from yourself, a third-person view to your own life. You feel nothing until you collide into Geto’s muscular back, feeling your ribs throbbing in pain.

Wondering why the raven-haired man came to a sudden stop, you focus back on the moment at hand, looking up at him. Geto looks concerned, eyebrows furrowed as he clasps his chin in between his fingers. He eventually closes his eyes in frustration, lips downturned.

“Did any of us put up a veil?” He asks.

Gojo turns his head around slowly, the smile on his face frozen. You feel cold sweat gathering at the back of your neck.

“Oh, fuck.”

It’s pitch black by the time the car returns to campus, all staff and students already tucked in for the night besides Gojo, Geto, and yourself. It’s nearing one in the morning, as Gojo forced the driver escorting you to stop by a DVD store to pick up the latest Digimon movie, then dinner, then snacks too. Thankfully, he paid for everything.

The best part about the situation is that Yaga is an early sleeper, so none of you have to face his wrath about messing up the veil until tomorrow morning when you have to debrief. You’re all too tired to deal with being slapped over the head by a ruler. It’s the small mercies that make all the difference.

The streetlamps and the moon are the only things illuminating the pathway to the dormitory building, all three of you lugging your own plastic bags filled with goodies back to Gojo’s room. You place it down next to the door as the white-haired man goes to unlock it, and turn to leave to go back to your own room until you feel a large, warm hand grasp your right wrist. Your head snaps back, turning to face Gojo.

“Where’re you going?” He asks, frowning and tilting his head to the side. “We’re all watching a movie together, c’mon. You don’t have a choice.”

Your mouth drops open slightly, confused. “ Okay, ” you sign with your free hand, letting it awkwardly hang in the air. As subtle as possible, you yank your wrist free from Gojo’s hold, feeling the warmth spread along your arm through the bandages.

Gojo’s room is tidy, for the most part. There’s a pile of dirty clothes in the corner of his room, right next to the laundry basket, and his bed is left unmade, blankets strewn everywhere. However, the desk is set up in a precise way, the chair is tucked in, and all the pens are lined up straight. The posters in his room are mostly all of Digimon and some other movies that you don't know. The TV is parallel to his bed that is pressed up against the wall, exactly like yours is, and there are a few bean bag chairs on the ground in front of it.

Geto immediately launches himself on top of one, letting his body sink into it and letting himself relax. Gojo sets up the large array of snacks on his desk after putting his pens away, putting his favourite ones on the right. You continue awkwardly standing in the middle of the room, observing him as he puts chips in a large bowl. His head twists to the door suddenly and he opens it up, revealing Shoko.

Her brown hair is a bit of a mess, and she looks exhausted, but she manages to muster a small grin when her eyes land on you, waving at you.

Wordlessly, Gojo pulls out the chair underneath his desk and sits in it, Shoko immediately walking behind him and puts her hands over his ears. A small glow of cursed energy emits from her hands soon after, and you can see the way the white-haired man visibly deflates in the chair. A few minutes pass, and she strolls over to Geto, leaning over to do the same thing to him.

She goes to you last, hands hovering in the air.

“I’m still not sure if I can even heal you, considering last time,” she says, looking at you with a hesitant look in her eye. “But your ribs need to be looked at, at the very least.”

“What do you mean, you can’t heal them?” Geto asks, lifting his head up from the bean bag.

“I tried to heal their nose, but I couldn’t,” she replies rather simply. “Sorry, this might hurt a bit.”

Her hands press against your ribcage, and you inhale sharply, trying to stay still as Shoko’s cursed energy resonates against you.

“See, it’s not letting me,” she says, looking at you then at the other two men. “I can feel their injuries – just bruised ribs – but I can’t properly heal them. I can feel that they’re hurt, but it’s like every single part of them is, and my technique can’t pinpoint the source of where they’re actually injured at the moment.”

Geto looks over at you thoughtfully, his gaze raking up the entire length of your body. His eyes land on the bandages carefully wrapped around your arms, still securely in place even after the encounter with the curse. His eyes narrow – maybe Shoko’s cursed energy is focusing on whatever is hidden beneath the bandages. You notice his stare and nervously shuffle in place, which makes Shoko grab you by the biceps to keep you still.

“Don’t move,” she tells you, frowning. “Do you have any more clean bandages?”

You nod your head, holding a finger up. Be right back, you mouth, then walk out of Gojo’s dorm to go to your own room. You unlock the door, being greeted with a pitch-black room. Quickly flicking the lights on, you rummage through one of the drawers of your dresser for the bandage wraps. You feel the familiar scratchy fabric brush against your fingers, and grab a roll out. As you go to close the door and make your way back to the group, you take a final look at your room.

It feels more empty and desolate than usual. You’ve never associated this feeling with your own dorm room before, and it’s not something you like. There’s a tug at your chest, something at the back of your mind telling you to return to the others, and you decide to listen.

Shoko smiles when she sees the bandages in your hand, taking the roll from you and motioning you to take your compression shirt off, tugging at the edge of it.

You press your lips together awkwardly, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. Maybe you should’ve just stayed in your room, after all . However, the look she gives you says enough – you don't have much of a choice. You exhale deeply out through your nose, acquiescing. The shirt is covered in the curse’s mucus and sticks to your skin, nearly making you gag as you take it off, feeling the slime stick to you.

“Jesus, what the hell were you guys fighting?” Shoko’s gaze is fixed on the two other men who look equally grossed out, thinking at the bodily fluids from earlier. When she turns her head to look back at you, her eyes immediately land on your exposed chest, eyebrows raising slightly. “Ohh… I kinda guessed.”

The scars on your chest aren’t something you’re ashamed of, but it’s still something that you consider private. You understand that you’re taking his shirt off purely for medical reasons, but it still feels like you’re exposing a side of yourself that only one other person knows. And now, other people know, people whose opinions you care about.

“I appreciate you feeling comfortable enough to do that,” Shoko says your name, looking directly into your mismatched eyes. “It means a lot.”

That makes you smile for the first time in hours. You nod, looking down bashfully as the eye contact is a bit too much for you right now. Your eyes eventually flicker to both Gojo then Geto, the latter giving you an encouraging thumbs up. You notice that both of them have changed into different clothes, out of their dirtied uniforms and into t-shirts and sweatpants. You look over to the white-haired man, who has shoveled a bunch of sweets into his mouth. He’s saying something, but it’s too hard for you to lipread when half his face is covered by food. Gojo seems to realize this, swallowing everything down in one large gulp and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“We don’t care about that stuff, dude,” he tells you. “You don’t have to worry about us judging you.”

You sign your earnest thanks, warmth spreading across your cheeks.

“Yeah, seriously, I’m more worried about the bruises,” Shoko says, pointing to the darkened skin.

She then raises your arms, unfurling the bandage roll and starting to wrap it around your torso. The pressure is uncomfortable and makes your body ache, and you can’t help your eyes from scrunching closed – it’s been a while since you’ve gotten injured like this, and it doesn’t seem to get any easier.

As soon as she’s done bandaging you up, you reach for your discarded shirt before Gojo’s hand stops you, grasping your wrist. He seems to have a knack for touching you.

“Nuh-uh, no way are you putting that back on when it’s covered in that shit,” he yanks the shirt out of your clutches. “And get out of those pants too, they reek. You aren’t allowed in my room if you keep wearing those.”

“You know, if you want to see them naked that bad, you could’ve been more subtle,” Shoko teases Gojo, a wide grin spread across her face, provoking him to try and trip her with his long legs.

“Fuck off,” he says, though the tips of his ears are turning red. “That isn’t what I meant, go smoke outside or something…” He proceeds to shove a white t-shirt and some grey sweatpants into your arms before addressing you. “Just go change in the bathroom.”

You nod, a smile playing upon your lips. Though Gojo’s attitude towards you has been fluctuating like crazy today, you’re grateful that the man still has enough decency left in him to give you clean clothes.

You close the door to the bathroom, turning the light on and being greeted by the sight of yourself in the mirror. Your face immediately drops. The reminder of Suliman’s permanent mark on you stares back at you, the magenta eye seemingly haunting every corner of your mind. You look down to your left arm, thankfully still covered. There’s no trace of the curse mark peeking through.

You quickly tug the oversized t-shirt on, the fabric soft and delicate against your skin – it must’ve cost Gojo a pretty penny for it. Next, you take your ruined cargo pants off, tugging the sweats up. The ankles of the pants are way too long and cover your feet, but you’ll have to work with it. After tightening the drawstring of the pants to make sure they don’t slip down your hips, you give yourself one last look in the mirror.

You only see the version of yourself that you were with Suliman. A mess of a monster, clinging to any humanity blessed upon it. A glutton for a life worth living, but the hunger for curiosity was its ultimate punishment. At any moment, Geto and Gojo will most likely realize what a terrible creature you are and become disgusted with you.

You can’t look at yourself any longer, opening the door of the bathroom and joining the others again. You force yourself to ignore the thoughts gnawing at the back of your mind, determined to enjoy the most of your night.

Gojo has the TV turned on now, delicately placing a metal disc in the strange contraption underneath the television. He has a notebook and pen in his other hand, and the second his eyes land on you, he stands up straight, walking over and grabbing your hand to place the notebook and pen in your hold.

“There you go,” it’s hard to tell what he says because his mouth barely moves, as if he’s trying to keep the conversation just between yourselves, but you make out just enough to understand. Gojo then steps back, flopping onto the other free beanbag chair, a black brick with buttons in his hand – you have never seen anything like that before.

- What’s that thing that Gojo has? And what’s the round shiny thing? And the thing under the TV?

You nearly shove the notebook in Geto’s face, making his shoulders shake lightly with laughter.

“You’ve got lots of questions about things, don’t you?” He tilts his head to the side, a small smile on his face. “That’s a remote, he’s putting the DVD in the player so we can watch a movie.”

“...You do know what a movie is, right?” Shoko asks as she walks over with a bowl of snacks in hand. She puts a big pillow on the ground, plopping herself right in between the bean bags.

You nod your head, deciding to sit down on the edge of Gojo’s bed, legs dangling right behind Shoko.

“Which one’s your favourite?” Gojo turns around to watch the conversation unfold, finger hovering over the ‘play’ button.

You shrug. Yaga has talked about his favourite movies in the past, but you never ended up watching any together.

- I don’t know, I’ve never watched any before.

As soon as you turn the notebook around for the others to read, Gojo’s face drops, and he looks horrified.

“You are the most boring person I know,” he says, instantly getting a slap on the back of his head from Geto. “Ouch!”

“Do you have any self awareness?” Geto glares at him.

“But their life sounds so dull! No boba or movies? What the hell was sensei doing, was he keeping you locked up in a dungeon or what?!” He raises his arms to gesture at you.

Well, it wasn’t a dungeon. Though you decide to keep your hands by your side instead of saying anything. It would probably make Gojo more aggravating. You just aggressively point at the remote instead, then at the TV.

“Gladly,” he replies, pressing play. “Prepare to be amazed .”

Shoko turns to look up at you from the ground, a conspiratorial look on her face. “I think this is a good time to tell you that Satoru is the biggest Digimon nerd on the entire planet. Don’t be fooled, he could ramble about the entire lore for hours.”

You quietly laugh as Gojo gives her an offended look. “I am proud to know every single detail about Digimon, thank you very much.”

“That is not the flex you think it is,” Geto says with a deadpan look on his face, before he takes a handful of chips into his mouth. Noticing your eyes on him, he offers the bag to you. “They’re barbecue flavoured.”

You happily munch away on the snacks as the movie rolls, the colours completely enrapturing you. The closed captioning was the cherry on top, too; you’re able to understand everything so easily, a wide grin on your face as you follow along with the story. If only you could have that in person whenever someone talked to you, then you may not feel so isolated from everyone else. Absent-mindedly, you grab one of the pillows on the bed and hug it in your arms, hunching over as your head rests on top of it and crossing your legs.

All of your friends seem engaged, cheering and laughing. The characters look incredibly strange, but their designs are enticing to you, and Gojo seems to love this movie, so you keep your entire attention on the screen.

However, the weight of everything that has happened today seems to finally be catching up to your body, and you feel your eyelids droop, a muted yawn slipping past your lips. Gojo’s bed is so comfortable, the mattress soft and malleable underneath you, so you can’t help but lay your body down, half-opened eyes still trained on the screen. The colours seem to mix together eventually, and you can’t keep your eyes open, letting the comforting embrace of sleep lull you.

You don't even feel it when you fully fall asleep.

There’s someone shuffling the covers, trying to be as delicate as possible as to not wake you up. You’re so tired that you let them move you around, feeling your head sink into the softest pillow you’ve ever felt. Then something warm envelops your body, and you fall unconscious again.

Halfway through the night, you wake up again, fully opening your eyes. It’s completely dark in the room, save for the blinds drawn back, the moonlight illuminating some parts of it. You’re covered by a fluffy blanket, still laying over the duvet – someone must’ve placed it over you. You see Geto and Shoko both sleeping soundly on the floor on futon mattresses, the beanbags discarded to another corner of the room.

But, where is…

You feel movement from behind, and cautiously turn around, seeing the back of Gojo’s head, his white hair now a blue hue from the moonlight. He seems to be asleep too, shoulders slowly moving as he breathes slowly in rhythmic patterns, shoulders relaxed, and you smile. After the long day you’ve all had, you deserve a good night’s rest.

You go back-to-back once more with Gojo, prepared to fall back asleep. You tuck your chin into the fluffy blanket, ready to close your eyes, but your gaze lands on the nightstand next to the bed.

The notebook and pen that you were given earlier lay on the nightstand, with Gojo’s sunglasses neatly placed on top of the open notebook.

Three different handwritings are scribbled on the paper. One is messy, almost ridiculously so, the other is neat, and the last is incredibly precise. All three read the same thing.

- Goodnight.

You smile.

And you finally let yourself fall back asleep.

#jjk x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #jjk x female reader #jjk x male reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x gender neutral reader

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nomoreusername · 5 months

Text

Puppy

Summary:After finding a puppy in the Scorch Thomas, Minho, and Newt try to convince you to keep it.

Ship: Platonic Ivy Trio x female reader

The Scorch was excruciating for everyone. There seemed to be no good in the world. After Winston died that feeling has only intensified. All the death and destruction was bringing hopelessness amongst the group.

That's why when Minho and Thomas found a dog in the Scorch they got the same idea.

"Hey buddy. You wanna come on a mission with us?"Thomas asked, patting the ground. The scrawny thing just glanced at them before lazily laying on the ground.

"Come on. Who's a good boy? Who's a good boy?"He repeated, waiting for it to come to him. It just stared blankly.

"Let me try. Here buddy,"Minho called, letting out a whistle. The dog still didn't bother to move. It wasn't that it didn't have the strength. Despite being so scruffy it was a fairly good size with patchy, golden fur and dark, brown eyes. It was a beautiful creature, and it was also rather stubborn as I refused to come to either of them.

"Yeah. That's working really well,"Thomas sighed as kept glancing at the puppy. The roles were reversed as he made puppy eyes at the actual dog. Only Thomas would think that something like that would work.

"What are you two doing?"Newt asked, appearing behind his friends after getting a feeling there were up to no good. When he saw the adorable puppy sunbathing his heart shrieked with a childlike joy. However, his logical mind reminded him that it was a terrible idea.

For once, he decided not to listen to that. A little bit of happiness couldn't hurt them.

"Here buddy. Here boy,"He called, joining his friends in their attempt to get the animal to just give them a chance.

"Come on. Why won't he just be our friend already?"Minho groaned.

"Who are you three trying to make friends with?"You ask, just having a suspicion that all three of them disappearing meant something idiotic or dangerous was happening. Then, you spotted the creature and realized what they were trying to do.

"No,"You said firmly.

"It's fine. Who's a good dog? Who's a good boy?"Thomas repeated as if it were a magical spell.

"It is not fine. A dog means less supplies for us. If it's been out here for this long it'll be fine anyways,"You shrugged, not fully believing the last part but wanting your friends to stop messing with the animal. Especially, since you have no clue of its personality. If it's loud and energetic it could very well get one of you severely hurt. That was not a chance you could risk taking.

"But Y/N. It's so cute,"Thomas pointed out, not understanding the point of why you couldn't just take a random dog with you.

"Doesn't matter,"You argued, staring right at him.

"Look at the puppy. I know you'll want to keep it if you look at you,"Minho taunts.

"I am not looking at the dog,"You repeat.

"But it'll bring us some happiness out here,"Newt points out. You figured he'd at least see reason, but the adorable animal had him under its spell.

"We are leaving right now,"You sigh. The boys all look at each other and accept their bitter defeat.

As they stand up and you are already making your way to the ground the animal jumps up and sprints past the boys and towards you. You try to pretend it's not even there until it lets out a playful bark. You give in and look to see it wagging its tail and bouncing on its hind legs.

"Aww. You're so cute,"You exclaim, kneeling down to pet it. It flops on its back as you rub its belly.

"So we can keep him?"Thomas begs.

"No. It's a girl actually,"You state as you pat her head. "And she's mine. Isn't that right? Who's a good girl?"You asked in your best baby voice.

"But-"

"You're lucky she's going with us at all. Come on girl. You want to meet the others? Yes you do. Of course you do,"You coo, scratching her ears. As you stand up and walk away she follows you with no hesitation.

"I think it worked,"Minho questions.

"I mean kind of,"Thomas agrees.

"Yeah. Besides, she won't say it's her dog forever,"Newt tries to convince them and himself.

How wrong that was. You don't choose puppies. Puppies choose you, and this one made it quite clear who her favorite person is.

But they did have a dog with them so that's kind of a happy ending. Maybe not the one they planned for, but hey. Life works in mysterious ways, and so do adorable animals.

#tmr thomas #tmr newt #tmr minho #minho tmr #thomas tmr #newt tmr #the maze runner #platonic love #one shot #fluff #tmr

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goddess-of-green · 2 years

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Okay so what if Nagito was dating a reverse course student and breaks up with them but later finding out they were secretly the ultimate hope

Sorry if this was confusing^^; I just downloaded tumblr two weeks ago If this req made you uncomfy feel free to ignore💕

-anon

I like this idea

Warnings: GN!Reader, angst with a happy ending, nagito being mean, nagito switching on you lmao, nagito crying, degradation (non sexual), their relationship is kinda toxic but oh well what can you do it's nagito

Nagito couldn't deny the attraction he held for you, and he could admit to himself that the love you showed him was its own type of hope.

However, every day he was reminded of the fact that you were in the Reserve Course, and that just wasn't something he could get by.

Why were you involved in such a putrid system? What could have possibly made you think that you were worthy of stepping on the grounds of Hope's Peak, despite not being chosen as an Ultimate?

He wasn't shy about making these thoughts known, and the constant words of deprecation put a big strain on your relationship.

It was toxic, and you tried to tell yourself that Nagito didn't mean it in that way, and this was simply the way he thinks, but it brought you down.

Hearing him constantly talk about how you were just hopeless trash, and how compared to the light of the Ultimates you were really nothing, it made you feel bad.

It made you feel jealous.

Just because they had some sort of talent, he loved them? Unconditional, selfless love? Why couldn't he offer that to you, his partner?

But you knew in a way that he did. Because even despite all the terrible things he would say, he would be curled up in your arms when he cried, and he would fall asleep to your voice, and it would be your hand that he held when it came time to walk home.

For a long time, this is how things were. Nagito would talk trash about you and himself, and all he could ever really think about was hope. He'd call you the meanest and most hopeless things, but when all was said and done, he'd silently give you his love, and you'd return it.

Your relationship was nearly perfect when Hope's Peak was out of the picture, but unfortunately it was somewhere you had to return to everyday. You began to dread the school you'd worked so hard to get into.

You told yourself that Nagito was lonely, and that's why he was the way he was. But you knew you were the loneliest of all, for sticking around in a situation like this.

The breaking point was when he made you cry. You'd had a terrible day and his casual insults on top of things just broke the dam for you. You burst into tears.

He looked surprised, and then conflicted.

Despite everything he'd always say, it was clear he didn't like to see you cry.

"Why are you crying?" He'd settled with, shuffling somewhat uncomfortably. "It's just the truth...you should accept your place."

Even with those words, he'd reached forward to wipe your tears away, and you had to psychically bring yourself to smack his hand away.

His hurt look was so hypocritical it made you want to cry more.

You hiccuped out your words as best as you could. "Why do you do that? Why do you always say those things?"

Nagito had the audacity to seem confused. He tilted his head. "You mean...about how you're trash?"

Shakily, you nodded your head yes, but he only seemed more confused by the affirmation.

"I don't get what you're so upset about... This is just the way that things are. Trash like us...we're destined to be that way." He shook his head.

"No." You shook your head vigorously. "Maybe that's what you think. But I can't- I can't take this. That mentality is so harmful! And it hurts when you say those things to me, Nagito! I hate it. I can't do this anymore."

Nagito looked distressed, but he shook his head. A dark look came over his face.

"Fine. I shouldn't be with someone who can't accept their place anyway. The only harmful thing here is your arrogance."

And just like that, he left you--in a pool of your own tears.

But after that, things started to change for you.

You were able to make some friends, and focus more on school, and eventually, something amazing happened.

Being in the Reserve Course, there was kind of always the looming idea that some may be able to get transferred to the Main Course, though many had given hope of that happening.

It's exactly what happened to you.

You were excelling in your classes and the Headmaster asked if you'd like to take on some special assignments and assess your potential.

You were quick to agree, and the result of every assignment and test you took was astounding.

The Headmaster found that your ability to excel in your environment and in such difficult projects made you worthy of an Ultimate title.

The Ultimate Hope.

That's what had kept you going all this time, wasn't it? Hope for a better future.

This was essentially your big break. You were quick to agree with anything the Headmaster said.

When all was said and done, you ended up being transferred into a Main Course class.

Class 77-b, to be specific.

To say that Nagito was shocked when he saw you walk into class that day was an understatement--wearing the Main Course uniform to boot.

Chisa introduced you to the class and had even taken you aside beforehand to ask if you'd rather her not speak on your transferring from the Reserve Course or not.

You were thankful for her consideration, but urged her to mention it, you wanted nothing more than for them to know how you had climbed the ranks.

Someone in particular, that is.

Though everyone seemed surprised when she explained your circumstances, and your talent. The Ultimate Hope? What kind of lofty talent was that?

But you were sure Nagito had stars in his eyes at that moment, he seemed to be looking at you in a whole new light.

Even at the best stage of your relationship, he had never looked at you like that--so reverently.

Funnily enough, you had ended up seated in the back, a good bit behind Nagito, who was forced to overtly turn his head to glance at you.

You pointedly avoided his gaze though, even if you were happy to have his attention on you, you were still hurt by what he did, and you didn't want to give him any ideas.

The second that class had ended, Nagito got up to approach you, but someone else beat him to it.

Looking up at the girl in front of your desk, you figured she wanted to talk to you.

...Despite not looking up from her game.

"Uh...hey?" You tried, and she looked up to meet your eyes as a "Level Clear!" effect sounded.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Nagito lingering by his desk, hesitant to approach with someone talking to you.

You forced yourself to focus on the girl in front of you.

"Hey... My name is Chiaki. But you knew that already, right? Since we all had to do introductions earlier." She said quietly, her eyes gazed into yours, but they looked hazy.

That was right, Chisa had everyone give their names as well, since you were new in the class. You didn't remember a lot of them though, it was hard to take in 15 names at once.

"Yeah." You nodded, as if you hadn't forgotten her name. "Can I help you?"

She smiled. "I just wanted to let you know...I'm excited to get to know you. And I'll always be here if you need some help fitting in. Since I'm Class Rep and...all..." She trailed off to yawn, seeming tired.

You thanked her for her consideration, and with that she left. Though you noticed her concerned glance towards Nagito. Did she anticipate he'd be interested in you?

Is that why she came over in the first place...?

You weren't left with much time to ponder it as Nagito made his way to you. You felt like you couldn't gather your things fast enough, but you figured he'd follow you out of the building anyway, so it didn't really matter.

"Y/N..." He murmured, looking at you intensely.

You looked away from him, trying your best to seem disinterested. "What do you want?"

He blushed, "I know I'm not at all worthy, but...may I talk to you?"

You sighed, swinging your back over your shoulder and trying to make it look like you had somewhere to be. "What is it?" You asked curtly.

He swallowed, and not a second later he'd dropped to his knees in front of you, grabbing onto your legs and looking up at you in a way he never had--in a way no one ever had. You looked down at him in shock.

"Please...forgive me... I never meant to be so foolish. I suppose it's fitting for trash like me to make such a grave miscalculation, but...please...don't hold it against me..." He had suddenly started talking and you couldn't do much else than listen as he did so.

Having his hands on your legs and him so close to you was making you nervous, but you tried your best to remain calm, and appear disinterested.

"I understand now, you couldn't take my arrogance when we were together, saying such things about you when you were actually the Ultimate Hope... I would leave me as well. It makes so much sense now... How disgusting that I called the Ultimate Hope trash on so many occasions... What way can I atone for this other than giving my life?"

Your head was spinning from everything he was saying. Most of which didn't make a lick of sense. You weren't upset because he was "insulting you when you were secretly talented," you were upset because he'd insulted you regardless. No person deserved to be called useless trash for simply existing.

And what did he mean by leave him? He was definitely the one to end things with you.

And now he was talking about giving his life to atone? Seriously, what was his deal!?

But before you could process enough to give him a coherent response, he took your calf in his hands and pressed his face to your thigh reverently. "Please...please don't hate me... I'm so sorry for what I've done, I know I don't deserve it, but I miss you... I miss you so much..."

The truth of the matter was that Nagito had always missed you. He missed you the second he told you he'd be better off without you. But he just didn't see the shame in trying to get you to think he wanted you for your talent, because that was the highest of the high to him, and talent was something that one always possessed.

What he did find shame in was loving a "useless nobody," so he didn't want to admit that he had loved you all this time, but you could feel his love, even when he would say those awful things to you it was there, just below the surface.

And as warm tears rolled down his face, and he started to hiccup and attempt to keep his composure, you felt terrible.

He was begging for you to just not hate him, telling you that he missed you, and for a moment you wondered if it truly had anything to do with talent at all. If maybe seeing you so close again, and knowing he would do so everyday was enough to stir this up in him.

You had missed him too, and despite what he had done to you, you hated nothing more than seeing him cry like this.

With a heavy sigh, you gently removed his hands from your leg and leaned down to his level, his eyes followed you, whimpering as tears continued to roll down his face.

You wiped his tears as well as you could, but they just kept falling, so you settled for wrapping your arms around his neck and putting your head on his shoulder.

There was a mere moment of hesitation before his arms wrapped around you, and he squeezed you as his tears fell.

"Nagi..." You murmured, running a hand through his hair in an effort to calm him down. "Just because we're not together anymore, doesn't mean I'm just gonna sit here and let you cry."

Unfortunately your words seemed to have the opposite of the desired effect and he only seemed to cry harder.

You stroked his hair, hushing him softly as you tried to find a way to relax him.

"You know...I missed you too, Nagito." You admitted quietly.

His breath caught, but tears still rolled down his face. He was listening.

You leaned back to look at his face, which at this point was flushed and wet with tears. Brushing your hands against his wet face, you looked into his eyes.

"I don't hate you, Nagito. I couldn't. Even though I always hated the way you spoke to me...I loved you."

By now his sobbing had reduced to quiet whimpering, though you noticed tears were still rolling steadily down his face.

"Me too. Me too..." He nodded hastily. "I love you..."

There was a hint of desperation in his tone, like he knew what was coming.

Leaning forward, you pressed your forehead to Nagito's.

"Do you think...we can try again? Will you stop saying such cruel things to me?"

Nagito clung to you for all he was worth, starting to sob again.

"Please, I'd love nothing more! And I would never dream of being so disrespectful to such a symbol of hope! In fact, you have my full permission to hit me. Make me pay for what I've done to you!"

Exasperated, you shook your head and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"I would never hit you, Nagito."

His face was red, and at last, the tears had finally stopped.

#danganronpa x reader #dr x reader #super danganronpa 2 x reader #sdr2 x reader #danganronpa 2: goodbye despair x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #nagito x reader #komaeda x reader

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