Reblog The Writers’ Fortune Cookie For Luck!

Marcy CD + references

𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 - 𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢 𝐲𝐮𝐮𝐣𝐢

after an interview, yuuji can't help the bubbling feeling in his chest.

my masterlist | vogue collab masterlist !

✭ pairings: itadori yuuji x oc actor! au

✭ warning: pining. fluff. actor au.

✭ author’s note: I ADORED WRITING THIS AU SO MUCH FOR THE COLLAB AHHH!!!

✭ word count: 2.9k words

disclaimer: i’m not of japanese descent and am unfamiliar with japanese honorifics, etc. feel free to correct me!

Blinding lights and interviews. Those were the two words Itadori Yuuji thought of whenever he considered his life as an actor. He smiled, sitting on a couch with his three fellow cast members, Fushiguro Megumi, Shu Tsubame and Kugisaki Nobara as the former answered yet another interview question with ease.

Yuuji smiled at every question tossed in his co-star’s way, laughing along when Nobara responded with a silly or funny face at an intrusive question.

He couldn't resist his smile as he sat next to one of his closest friends, Tsubame, as she let out a bubbly laugh along with Nobara in response to a question he zoned out on.

“Itadori Yuuji, you have been picked for the role of the main lead for the popular manga-turned-anime ‘Jujutsu Kaisen’. What are your thoughts on the show so far?” The interviewer leaned closer in curiosity.

The pink-haired teen snapped out of his daze before he hummed in thought, answering with ease with a small laugh escaping his lips, “Well, we did just finish season one, and it was fun but the script really was something. Lots of tears on my part, but I can’t say more than that since I’m not exactly allowed to disclose what’s happened in the plot.”

Megumi nodded in agreement, the interviewer smiling as she pulled out the next question, a wide smile ever-present on her face.

“How do you think each of your characters contrasts with your real personalities?" She asked quickly, her mic in her hands. “And what would the difference be?”

The four teens looked at each other, deciding amongst themselves who would go first, Nobara taking the mic as she began to speak, Tsubame and Yuuji grinning at each other as they did a little rock-paper-scissors match to determine which among the two would go right after Megumi.

Seeing that Tsubame won – Yuuji secretly let her win, but he would never admit to that – the youngest of the four smiled widely as Megumi passed her the mic. Yuuji rested his chin in the palm of his hand, his elbow resting on the armrest of the couch as he watched her speak excitedly.

He zoned out halfway, more interested in her little mannerisms, like the little fidgets of her fingers when she stuttered a little, and in an instant, his hand reached out to hers, rubbing soothing circles on the back of her hand to soothe her nerves.

Tsubame looked lost in thought for a minute before squeezing Yuuji’s hand a little, sending butterflies through his stomach, “I think for me, what I admired most about my character is how different we are, but we both have the same ideals where we would do anything for our family. It’s just that the way we process situations is different if that makes sense – and I admire the way she’s set on achieving her goals, in other words, her motivation.”

The interviewer nodded, making small noises of agreement as she listened, “That’s interesting, now I’ve got to ask, you’ve mentioned how different your character is from your entire personality, what exactly do you mean by that?”

“I wouldn’t say we’re super similar,” Tsubame laughs shyly. “But my character’s more closed off, definitely more guarded than me. Oh, and she’s super stoic but I feel like I’m… I’m more…”

“Bubbly?” Yuuji smiled, finishing her sentence as she nodded with a giggle.

“Yes! Exactly, I’m so much more bubbly than her so it was tough having to keep a straight face on set for long takes.”

“She couldn’t stop smiling, you know?” The pink-haired teen beside her grinned. “And she kept playing Taylor Swift’s ‘New Romantics’ on loop while dancing around on set.”

Tsubame giggles again, Megumi and Nobara smiling over at their young friend who they saw as a little sibling. Megumi laughed a little, “And we had non-stop karaoke sessions off-set, so that was fun.”

“Anyway Yuuji, what do you think was different between you and your character’s personality?” Tsubame hummed in question as the four teens grinned at the memories.

Tsubame gently handed the mic to Yuuji as he hummed in thought at the interviewer’s question, “What differences were there between my role and I? I’d say that he’s a little more hyper than I am, so it’s like I have to boost my energy up just a little bit more to keep up with him. It’s always fun because just being with everyone is enough to excite me.”

His three other friends smiled up at him widely, the four of them glad that they had such a close bond, Nobara laughing as she pointed at Yuuji playfully.

“You’re such a softie, Itadori!” Nobara laughed, leaning over Megumi to lightly punch Yuuji’s arm.

Seeing this, the interviewer grinned, “It seems like you all are close, why don't you describe your off-screen relationships with each other, considering that you all are one friend group in both the show and real life?"

The four of them looked at each other before Yuuji began, “Megumi and I just sort of instantly clicked in a sense? Like he’s my best friend, and I’d trust him with my life. Nobara’s like a ridiculous, but sassy older sister, and Tsubame’s just a really, really sweet person overall.”

“Aw,” Tsubame smiles, squeezing Yuuji’s hand tighter in a comforting manner. “Yuuji’s super sweet too, he’s selling himself short, everybody knows him as the sunshine boy.”

“You both certainly have some chemistry,” The interviewer laughed, Tsubame and Yuuji laughing with pink cheeks as Nobara and Megumi smiled knowingly.

“But I think we can all agree that Tsubame’s like the little sibling we’d protect at all cost,” Nobara shrugs. “We all get along on set, and she pretty much pulls us all together with the copious amounts of energy she has.”

Tsubame smiled with a small shrug, releasing Yuuji’s hand as he chuckled at her reaction. The interviewer smiled at the sight, thanking the four teens, “That concludes today’s interview, but it was wonderful to have you all on set today! ‘Jujutsu Kaisen’ will be streaming on all platforms soon…”

The voice of the interviewer faded away as the four teens waved, the cameras soon cutting, bright lights fading. Tsubame sighed softly in exhaustion, leaning against the couch as Megumi chuckled at her reaction.

“That was tough,” Tsubame laughed a little, Yuuji placing a hand on her shoulder reassuringly.

“You did good,” He smiled, Nobara humming as she stood up, pulling her junior up with her.

“Yeah, what Itadori said, now c’mon, let’s get some bubble tea!” Nobara grinned widely, pulling Tsubame along, winking over at Yuuji as soon as Tsubame’s back was turned.

The two girls left the boys behind, Yuuji and Megumi following a fair bit away from the two girls ahead of them.

“So no luck?” Megumi began, snapping Yuuji out of his daze as the four stars walked down the hallways of the broadcast show’s building.

“What? Oh– yeah, no luck so far,” Yuuji shook his head. “How’d you know?”

“You still have that pining look on your face.”

“Oh…”

Yuuji felt his cheeks turn pink, his eyes focused on the floor before they found Tsubame’s figure again as she laughed alongside Nobara. His heart thumped in his chest, and he bit the inside of his cheek nervously with a sheepish smile.

“Am I really that obvious?” He whispered, Megumi giving a face at the boy he so adored.

“The interviewer did say you both have chemistry.”

Yuuji blushes hard with a little smile, “The fans are gonna go wild, huh?”

“Yup.”

“Fantastic…”

“Yuuji!” Tsubame grinned, walking over to her best friend with a little grin. “Whatcha doin’?”

Yuuji’s eyes widened as he felt Tsubame sidle up to him, smiling as she sat beside him on the little couch in their shared hotel room – a temporary fix until they completed their next interview.

“Tsu, hey,” Yuuji grinned softly, scooting over a little to let her sit next to him.

He let her lean closer to him, letting her peer over his shoulder as he scrolled through the instagram app on his phone.

He shrugged nonchalantly, “Just going through the comments on my newest post.”

Instantly, he felt her smaller frame lean more into him as he scrolled, his cheeks heating up the closer she neared him. The smell of her shampoo suddenly smelled strong as lavender, sandalwood and rose scents filled his senses. The pink-haired teen struggled to hold back the urge to just pull her into his arms and smother her face with little pecks.

“Wh– hey is that a picture of me?”

His body tensed the slightest as her big coffee-coloured eyes looked up at him, her eyebrow raised in amusement as she smiled cheekily, spotting her image among his little collage of slides.

He laughed softly, smiling at the picture he snapped of her. It was the three of his closest friends on the beach, but as Nobara and Megumi were far out in the background, the focus on the image was of Tsubame in her white sundress. A matching white sunhat sat on her head as a pink ribbon flowed in the wind, a wide smile on her face as she held the hat down to prevent it from flying away.

Just the sight of her wide smile made a smile of his own grow. There was something about how peaceful and comforted she was to smile so freely that just made his heart beat harder in his chest at the sight of her genuine joy.

“Yeah, of course?” He chuckled, pulling her into a hug. “Why wouldn’t I include my favourite picture of my favourite person here?”

She grinned, and it was enough to make his heart flutter like a wild bird in his chest, aching to break free of its cage of ribs, “D’aw, I’m your favourite person?”

“Obviously, you’re so cute and squishy and perfect to hug,” He laughs, squeezing her tighter as she squeaks a little at the sensation of his arms tightening around her waist, Yuuji gently pulling her onto his lap.

“Please, easy on the ribs, Yuu!” She giggled, “You always hug me so tight.”

He only laughs at her in response, nuzzling his nose into her neck and letting her pick up his phone as she scrolled through the comments. He didn’t care about what she did, as long as she enjoyed herself in his hold.

“Wow… the comments are really piling up,” She whistled softly in amazement, and Yuuji only hummed in acknowledgement, just savouring the moment he had to cuddle her before she pulled away, his feelings as unsaid and unrequited as before.

She continues to scroll through the evergrowing comments, eyes widening at the top comment as she gently brings the phone to his face buried in her neck.

“Yuu, you should read this,” She smiles a little. “People are talking about you, you know?”

Yuuji cracks one eye open, resting his chin on her shoulder as his hazel eyes scan over the little white text as he quickly reads the comment.

“You know, they’re not wrong, we would make an incredibly cute couple,” Yuuji grinned, and the proximity between them caused Tsubame to blush the slightest as she felt his whisper against her cheek.

She giggled softly again, “Yeah? You think so? I’m surprised you’d agree so easily.”

His eyes widened and he couldn’t help the way he felt his heart drop the slightest. Had he been reading the signs wrong? Was his affection truly to be unrequited?

“Why? What’s so surprising about it?” He asked softly, his face leaning closer to hers in genuine curiosity, but he didn’t miss the way her already pink cheeks turned red. It caused his heart to soar with pride and joy to know that he made her blush.

“W-Well, I mean,” She looks away for the briefest second, gently pushing her hair behind her ear, “We didn’t really… I-I mean, we’re not dating, and we’re best friends, Yuu.”

His heart officially dropped to his stomach, his smile disappearing as he whispered a soft, ‘ah’. He loosened his grip around her waist the slightest, but something bubbled up in his chest. The truth of his feelings towards her lingered on his mind, and he didn’t like the way he fidgeted, knowing that he wouldn’t be satisfied until he at least tried to tell her how he felt – it didn’t feel right otherwise.

Gently, he picked up one of her hands, his thumbs gently running over her knuckles as he focused his gaze on her smaller hand in his as he felt his cheeks warm, “Tsubame, there’s… there’s something I want to tell you.”

“What’s up?” Tsubame tilted her head, placing his phone aside as she gave him her full attention.

“Tsubame, this whole process with you, being your colleague, your co-star, your best friend… it’s all been an amazing experience,” He smiles fondly at the memories they’ve shared. “And the more I spend time around you, the more I see the real you, and the more I feel my heart beat faster when you smile, and the more I want to be the reason that little spark appears in your eyes when you look my way.”

His amber eyes met her widened oak ones, his emotion so strong, so present that she couldn’t help the way her breath hitched the slightest. He took her silence as a sign to go on, seeing that her eyes were solely trained on him and not on the way his phone vibrated beside her.

“I know it’s a stupid comment on an instagram post, but I can’t imagine being anywhere but by your side. And if you don’t feel the same, I’ll understand as long as we stay friends… so please, Tsubame, let me just say this that I… I love you.”

Those three words. Those three little words finally escaped his lips, his heart pounding in anticipation, but he could finally breathe, feeling a weight vanish from his chest. He watches every little reaction on the face of the girl he loves, from the way she now breathed softly to the way she looked at him so gently.

“You… you love me?” She whispers, and he nods without any hesitation, now holding both of her hands in his larger ones.

“From the moment I met you, from the moment you smiled at me with that little excited wave of yours. Cupid struck me with its arrow right then and there,” He smiles breathlessly. “Now I need to ask you, and don’t be afraid to speak your mind, please… do you feel the same?”

A heartbeat. Then two. Then–

“Yes.”

Yuuji couldn’t believe his ears, his eyes widening as he saw a smile grow on her soft-pink cheeks. He felt his own cheeks warm as he saw that little shine in her eyes that he adored, even if her dark brown bangs covered most of her left eye.

“Y-You… Did I hear you right?” He whispered softly, his heartbeat picking up. He smiled when he saw her nod, her own gentle smile growing as she blushed at the feeling of his hands holding hers.

“Yes,” She smiles, a giggle growing in her chest, “Yes, Yuuji. I love you, too.”

He smiles wider, pulling her close as he laughs softly, “You mean it? You really mean it?”

“Duh!” She grins, leaning closer to him as she squeezes his hands back, “I really thought I was being obvious ever since our first karaoke…”

“Not one bit. I didn’t have a clue,” He laughs, pulling his hand away to cup her cheek, his forehead resting on hers. “God, we’re blind.”

Tsubame laughs along, her warm cheeks mirroring his own, “The blindest.”

His thumb gently strokes her cheek as he looks at her with the softest glance and touch, as though if he held her any harsher, she would vanish in a cloud of dreams, and he would wake up all alone, without her in his arms.

He lowered his voice, his caramel eyes darting to her upturned lips, and his heart thumped at the thought he had in his head.

“...May I– Tsubame can I kiss you, please?”

Yuuji adored the way her cheeks exploded into a warm shade of red, her smile changing into one of bashfulness. Finally, she whispered back, giving him the pass he so desperately longed for.

“Yes.”

He leaned in just as she leaned up, her lips just softly pressing against his as he felt his chest explode with butterflies. Tsubame smiled widely, her heart beating faster as their lips locked, softly pressed against each other – pure and innocent, just like their moment.

When they finally pulled away, their faces were covered in a scarlet hue, shy smiles and little giggles escaping them as they enjoyed their moment. Tsubame smiled at him lopsidedly, resting her head on his shoulder as he grabbed his phone.

“Say cheese!”

The camera snapped, Tsubame giggling as Yuuji pecked her cheek, the flash flickering on and off as Yuuji grinned at her bubbly laugh. When he lowered his hand, he posted the image on his instagram story, adding a little caption.

“Thanks for the little encouragement!” He hummed, tagging the girl in his arms before posting it.

After a minute or two, a message from Nobara appeared, and it made Yuuji chuckle at it.  It was as if he were hearing her tone through the text, as though she were right there to express her exasperation.

“Finally! It’s about damn time.”

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Let's Play a Little Game

Post! Spiderman Across the Spiderverse

Obsessive!Prowler!Miles Morales x Spidergirl!Reader

Authors note: THIS READER IS 15. A CHILD. THERE IS NO SMUT. NADA, ZIP, NOTHING. I WILL NOT BE SPICY WRITING A SINGLE THING FOR ANYTHING INVOLVING MILES MORALES.

You’d fought villains twice your size. A crazy octopus with metal tentacles, a man double your size, covered in black spots. Petty criminals brandishing jagged knives. But why was this one so different? He was no different was he? 

He was gruff. His body was always rigid, his words were sharp. His eyes were sharp. But the one thing you took notice, how manipulative he was. How he could weasel into the mind, into the minds of men twice his age who did his most dirty work. 

You had to pretend. Pretend his syrupy sweet words were true till your hero came. Your lovebug. 

His eyes cut to yours as the record scratched to silence in the hideout. Your eyes crack open, he now crouched in front of you. His braids fell to the side. You braided them for him last night. It was the most vulnerable you’d ever seen him. His head lay back on your legs as you massaged his scalp. And for a moment your mind went dark as you held the thin sharp rat tooth comb.

One drive straight to the throat was all it took, then you could be free. But then he opened his eyes. And you couldn’t. Because even if he wasn’t your lovebug. He was an exact copy of him. You were in his world, if his men found it was you that took their leader out they would hunt you down. 

He stared in your eyes as if daring you, testing your new freedom. And so you carefully parted his hair down the middle. That night you passed the first test. 

And now as your sleepy eyes look into his, you remember it’s time. Time for another song and dance. Of playing the part. Another test. 

“Sleepy mi vida?”

You can’t bring yourself to speak up and offer him a tired nod as you curl more into the nook of the couch, the bright knitted blanket stands out like a sore thumb, as do you in all your brightness. A reminder how far from home you are.

“A little bit.” your voice is scratchy, you must have slept for an hour at best. The sun was diving into the horizon painting the sky a beautiful mix of oranges and yellows. You sit up stretching your arms above your head and scooch your body forward. 

“Nah, take your time amor. Didn’t mean to wake you up” his knuckles stroke down to rest under your chin and his thumb to gently pinch it as he looks up at you with that love sick gaze. He leans forward and you know to meet him halfway and press your lips to his.  

He moves back enough to whisper against your lips, “suit up in five, we got business to handle.”

And as he stands to walk to the old player. A soft beat fills the room, your veins as you force yourself to stand. To fight. Your movements are second hand as you don the suit behind a hung up white sheet. You don’t call it yours, Because it's not. Yours is back home. Here he’s created you a new one. 

You step out from behind the sheet and in his eyes he drinks you in as you adjust your web shooters. 

And in some sick way, maybe you had survived in this universe. Had you been bitten? This would have been your suit. It was solid black with black webbings along the thighs and pink in the inner parts of the hood along with your jordans which you go to kneel and tie up but he stops you. He kneels before you and ties them. And just as he gazes up at you, you pull your mask down.

This is what keeps you sane. Because here you're free to sneer down at him as he looks up at you. He wears his own suit now. You hold your hand to him and he wraps his around you and pulls himself up, his hand is quick to reach and snake around you, pulling you flushed against him. 

“Deadly and beautiful. The perfect mix” he whispers leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead as he taps the side of his mask to conceal his face. 

He watches you as you leap from the building and sends your webbing to a building swinging your body to kneel on top of a light pole. You  look up and catch his nod as he moves forward. And you follow. Swinging languidly.

You realize now as you swing into the dead of night why he’s unlike the villains, the criminals, the mad scientists. Because as he runs alongside you. As he leads you both into the night. His reflection dancing off the glass of a building. As he looks at you. For a moment you think that’s Miles, your Miles, your lovebug. But it’s not.

Instead, you look into the eyes of Miles, the prowler. Harbored on earth-42. 

And it scares you, because as much as you fight each day, deep down. Somewhere in the dark parts of your heart. Your heart flutters, feels warm for a moment when he holds your gaze, and flashes you that smile. 

And you beg for Miles, Gwen, Miguel, Hobie, anyone to find you. Because you fear that somewhere along the line, you’re no longer going to be pretending. 

That you failed the ultimate test of love.

[12:18]

You are a steadily flickering candle in Bakugou’s dim world. He’s not gloomy or upset or tortured– no no, he quite likes the dark.

His mom has always competed with the sun. Bakugou rose first in his childhood home because beating the sun meant a few hours of peace. He wakes up slowly and heavily like he’s shifting under soil while blankets slip into the creased shapes of his body. In those first few minutes of dark the whole world is buried underground.

Now that he lives with his idiot classmates he sleeps early. Bakugou likes to pull the curtains closed as the sun sets and melt deeply into a too-soft pillow before his eyes can adjust to the dark. Making breakfast alone at dawn, training as loud as he wants to be in the gym across campus lit only by the fires of his quirk. Even at high noon he likes to shower with the lights off, for in these rare moments of dark Bakugou can finally think slowly without competition to worry about. If he lived a quieter life he might even get bored, but blessedly his friends can't spare him a sneeze in peace.

Walking through the halls is like trying to hide from fireworks. Running into Deku is as safe as watching a solar eclipse. He’s blinding and always has been; Bakugou startles every time the fucking kid flashbangs with a ‘good morning!’ or a ‘Kacchan!’ Sparkplug might as well be an electrical fire and Mina makes a blaring siren look like an insult to emergency vehicles. Kirishima is at least tolerable. He shines pink like a happy lighthouse but you still can’t look at him directly for too long.

You though. Bakugou didn’t even notice at first the way you could only be seen in periphery. In the bustle of class and patrol you stayed soft and easy to see. As noisy as the rest but not blinding. Like crouching on the beach and watching a sparkler come to life in your hand. Like polished bells.

If you woke up early enough you might catch him in the kitchen and twinkle sleepily past like a shooting star through the common room. ‘Mornin’ you’d grumble through a yawn and candlelight would peek out between your fingers when you covered your mouth.

Titling his head slightly to glance at you in class. A halo of gold outlined your body anytime he let himself linger on you like this. Sometimes he saw nothing but you illuminating the vast expanse of peaceful dark. Easier to look at but still warmer than the sun. Maybe the sun couldn’t compete. Oh jesus the sun would probably love you-

“Oi Dynamight,” you murmur.

Bakugou jumps. His cheek falls out of his hand and his elbow slips off the desk. You weren’t the radiant moon basking above rising tide– you were straddling the back of your chair lazily to chat with Uraraka behind you.

Tch, he spits and turns his head quickly towards the window instead.

Your cheek squishes onto your friend’s desk, “you look red, feeling okay?”

“Don’t get us all sick before midterms dude,” Uraraka adds.

Bakugou doesn’t get sick, your sleepy moonglow smile just makes him ache. Not like a sunburn. It’s like being too comfortable in bed for too long. Like a good stretch.

happy birthday katsuki (*ᴗ͈ ˬᴗ͈ )

hello !! ૮˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ა i really love your writing and your soft scenarios, they bring me so much serotonin and happiness to be honest !

i don’t know if you take requests still, but could you please do a part two of jjk men + short partner with geto? only if you want to of course, i’ll respect your decision either way don’t worry! thank you so much! <3

JJK MEN + SHORT PARTNER

featuring. geto suguru, itadori yuuji, sukuna ryomen x reader

warnings. reader is a non-sorcerer (geto)

note. hihi nonnieeee <33 thank you so much for saying that, you don't understand how much you saying that makes me so happy :(( i'm so glad that my works can bring you happiness omg. this is part two to the short partner headcanons.

part one.

GETO SUGURU. geto honestly could care less about your height — he finds you so adorable that he sometimes can't help but to pinch your cheeks gently, tugging your flesh and squeezing it lightly out of love; it has turned into a small habit that he does to you.

"sugu, no more, my cheeks are going to swell," you tell him, covering your cheeks with your hands to prevent the male from touching it again.

geto couldn't help but to chuckle at your reaction. you're so cute, so small compared to him that all he wanted to do was to poke fun at you. laying his large, calloused hand on top of your head whenever you both sit side-by-side, softly shifting just to pat you.

he will put you on his lap, playing with your hair as you do your own thing. you know a perk of being a shortie? when you sit on a certain height, you get to swing your legs lightly, letting it just flail above ground — and when you do that, geto stares at you lovingly.

"i'm a little jealous of you," your boyfriend mumbles, leaning his chin on top of the palm of his hand. his eyes gazing to your figure as you swung your legs lightly.

"why?"

"you get to swing your legs like that," he pointed his index finger to your legs and you stopped swinging your legs, "why'd you stop?"

"so you won't feel jealous."

geto easily pulls you into his embrace, nuzzling his head into your neck, "keep doing that, 'm enjoying it, you know?" he mumbles, pressing a kiss onto your neck.

he hates non-sorcerers, but when it comes to you? he just can't hate you.

ITADORI YUUJI. ABOSLUTELY LOVES YOUR SHORT HEIGHT. he would and will help you take things that are out of your reach — won't make fun of you, don't worry, I assure you there will never be a scenarios where yuuji makes fun of you. he just thinks you're so perfect, and he gets really sad when you make fun of yourself.

"baby, why would you say that?" he asks you, pulling you close, laying his head on your shoulder.

"yuuji, because it's true," you chuckled, brushing his hair.

"but i like that part of you. your height," he muffles into your clothes, leaning into your touch.

he gets so mushy with you — i'm not even kidding, will grab you, throw you over his shoulders and walk around anywhere. greeting people he know on the way, even gojo or nanami (while you're on his shoulder, also greeting them).

"nanamin, hi!" yuuji greets, walking past the older male as he turned to look at both you and him, you waved at nanami when he turns around to look — and he waves back at you, confused.

yuuji is clingy. but you don't mind — he will latch himself onto you, do you know how parents hold their baby when they're trying to teach them how to walk? yuuji does that with you, even if you're not that much shorter than him; still short, he still does it. because you're his baby, and he won't accept anything else.

"c'mon baby, left and right, left and right." he guides your arms forward, standing behind you.

as you took a step, he takes one too — like teaching a baby how to walk, it's cute really, "yes, just like that," he laughs. god, he's having so much fun with you.

yuuji won't let anyone call you short, even gojo. will fight anyone who makes fun of you, and not even kidding. he will not back down from defending you.

"what do you mean they're too short?" he retorts back, rolling his eyes, "you're too annoying and nobody's saying anything."

SUKUNA RYOMEN. huge. tease. about it. will go on until you cry — but will make it up to you in his own way. he's not one to say how much he loves you, but you do know that he does. he just refuses to say it.

"ryo, stop. it's not funny anymore." you mumble out lowly to him, pushing his chest away.

he chuckles deeply, but when he realizes it was serious; he stops, turns away for a bit before glancing back at you. sukuna isn't much of a crier, so he doesn't know what to do when you cry — he gets a little confused, like, why are you crying because he called you short?

"why are you crying, brat?" he grunted.

"you're being mean to me."

"i called you short." he sighs out loudly, pulling your arm away from your face — revealing your tearful eyes, "stop crying," he thumbs your tears away from the corner of your eyes.

"then stop doing that, you've done that so many times, it's pissing me off." you mumbled at him, sniffling lightly.

the male groans out, rolling his eyes, "are humans this dramatic?" he asks you, wiping your tears away; pulling you onto his lap, burying his face into the crook of your neck — as much as he tries to put up this tough guys demeanor, he feels bad for making you cry.

but will definitely do it again next time.

it's weird; sukuna shows his love by teasing the hell out of you, pissing you off, making you cry — then ends up feeling bad for a few hours before doing the same thing all over again.

"'m sorry, but i'll do it again next time." he murmurs into your neck.

"you're mean."

"i know. but i love you."

© IPINVRSE 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

hey everyone! decided to make a little multifandom icon account :) i might take requests soon but for now they're closed. planning to make some avatar-related icons hehe ;)

if you're interested, the account is @scrycovens !

“white boy of the month” this, “white boy of the month” that—well this month we simply have The Boy, and it’s jimmy liu from american born chinese

how deep is your devotion? ; satoru gojo

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

word count; 6.6k

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

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

you are five years old when you meet the prince.

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

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

”does it hurt?”

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

a blue so jarring it makes you shiver.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and he wins. he always wins.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

the prince and his knight can do what they want.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

all of it for one person.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“sure you do.”

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

”definitely.”

a moment passes. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but…

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

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

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

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

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

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

satoru sits up a little straighter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

something rotten bubbles up inside your throat.

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

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

”settle down, little knight.”

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

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

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

you purse your lips.

“… i don’t think so.”

another chuckle. a little delighted, this time. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

no matter where he goes, you follow.

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

“come with me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you blink.

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

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

you raise your brow. unimpressed.

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

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

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

his knight. his favourite knight.

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

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

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

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

“— loosen up. it’s just you and me.”

so you do.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(he’s warm.)

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

“i missed this.”

…

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

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

“… me too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

silence. and then, a chuckle.

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

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

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

and then; 

“i’d do it, you know.”

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“… sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i don't get it, though.”

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

a moment passes.

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

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

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

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

a boy so sweet you’d die for him.

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

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

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

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

”you’ll get sick.”

”i never get sick.”

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

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

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

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

until satoru suddenly chuckles.

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

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

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

“i think i was born to meet you.”

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

Hiii, omg first of all I just wanted to say I loved Ur miles morales earth 42 imagine "second chance" like all my days I'm in love. But like anyway I was wondering if I could request another one with him and Spider man miles? Soooo, it's basically where in spider man miles earth the reader died and when he gets to earth 42 (the part where he thought he was back in his own earth) he sees her and try's to apologise for not saving her and that he's so glad she alive but little does he know the reader is actully with earth 42 miles and that miles gets all over protective and jealous???

(Hello! Sure I can and so sorry if this sucks but I hope you enjoy this little drabble!)

Not Your Lover

Miles knew something was wrong, he figured it out immediately, not really, but he did.

He knew he needed to leave. He knew he needed to get home. He wanted nothing more than to get home.

But every thought of leaving and going home, back to his home where his family was, disappeared when he heard the door open.

Home was where he had his family.

But home didn't have you.

"I'm back, Mrs. Morales!"

Miles froze the second he heard, standing in the hallway before he slowly turned on his heel to see you.

You looked just as beautiful. The same way you did before he couldn't save you.

Miles didn't know what to do, just watching as you left your things by the door, looking around as you walked in before your eyes met his.

Miles almost broke down once your eyes met him, your same smile on your face that you always had for him as you got closer.

"You okay, Miles?" You asked, your smooth voice bringing Miles nothing but comfort as he couldn't help but stare at you.

You looked at Miles confused, Miles couldn't help but to bring himself forward, bringing you into a much needed hug as he buried his face into your neck, almost crying as the familiar scent of your perfume he had gotten you filled his senses.

"Woah!"

Miles held onto you as you said in surprise, not letting go as you slowly hugged him back, he felt your arms around him as he did his best not to cry.

Miles didn't want to do anything but to stay with you, but couldn't as you pulled back, looking at him with seemingly worry as you cupped his cheek.

"Are you feeling okay?" You asked, concerned as Miles almost didn't hear you, barely shaking his head.

"No- yeah. I'm okay." Miles barely muttered out, eyes darting over your entire face, not wanting to look away in fear you would leave as you did before.

"Okay, then." You gave him a weird look before you smiled, brushing off his weird behavior as you took his hand, leading him out and to the stairs.

"Come on. I made something for you."

Miles could hear you say as you walked up the stairs quickly, like you always did, leaving him behind for a moment.

"Hey, wait up!" Miles called after you, desperate to not let you out his sight but stopped in pain as he glitched, groaning in pain as he leaned into the railing.

"Miles?"

Miles looked up to see you standing above the flight of stairs, looking at him weirdly.

Miles saved himself, waving his hand to dismiss your worry as he climbed after you quickly.

You got to the roof first, Miles coming through the door not far after.

"Hey-" Miles tried once more before he stopped himself, looking around the roof, the changes evident as he looked back and forth.

That wasn't everything that was new.

Miles couldn't help but look at the brick wall, staring for a moment before a passing by train lit it up, giving just enough time for Miles to see the painted face.

The face no longer was Uncle Aaron and you.

But instead was Miles' dad.

Miles couldn't look away, his wide eyes staring at the portrait of his dad.

He didn't save his dad. His dad was gone.

He needed to go home. He had to go home.

Miles couldn't move, his feet planted to the floor.

Miles only turned when he remembered you were there, he slowly turned his head, expecting to see anything but he got nothing.

Your face was changed, everything was different now as any aspect he saw of his (Name) was gone, replaced by someone else he didn't know.

Miles wanted to deny it, but the way you looked at him before a small smirk came onto your face rendered him, every spider sense screaming for him to get the hell out.

Suddenly, you whistled a soft tune. Your cunning smile still on your face as you walked around Miles, his eyes following you, a mistake.

Miles watched as a figure dressed in a familiar but different suit jumped from the rooftop of another building, Miles thought to escape but couldn't, already punched down to the floor.

"Too bad. He's pretty cute."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miles woke up with a pain, his body felt constricted and his sight blurred as everything hurt.

He couldn't remember where he was or what happened for a moment before his eyes shot open, the panic setting in.

Miles was chained to a punching bag, looking around frantically before he saw you.

Your back was turned to him, working at a desk peacefully.

Miles breathed heavily, panicking as he moved around, making the chains clink together and catching your attention.

You perked up quickly, turning around to look at him as you took out an earphone, looking him over like he was some sort of joke.

You then smiled, a smile he once loved, but a smile he now couldn't place and one he was growing to hate.

You whistled softly once more, a soft alert as you put down everything onto the desk, now leaning against it as you waited.

Miles was too stunned to speak, trying to find the words before he stopped as he looked up, seeing the one who rendered him unconscious now hanging from a support beam, dropping down quickly.

Miles stared at him as he stared back, his masked face concealing his identity.

Miles watched almost fearfully as panic rose again, spider senses hay-wire as the masked one got closer, close enough for Miles to look at his face directly.

"Take off the fucking mask. It's not scaring anyone, babe."

Miles glanced at you, seemingly shocked and hurt as you called him babe.

But Miles was even more shocked as he heard the one in the mask sigh, the mask coming off a moment later to stun Miles even more.

Under the mask, resided his face.

Miles Morales' exact copy was under the mask, or at least, him in this world.

Miles could only watch as the formerly masked Miles glared at him before his copy walked over to you, forced to watch as you smiled up at him.

Miles could feel his heart beating and almost cracking as you glanced at him, the same smug smile on your lips as your Miles stood close to you.

Your Miles slipped his hand onto your neck, kissing your forehead before he went to your lips, and greedily, you accepted his kiss.

Miles knew a lot in his life, and that was that he loved his (Name) and she loved him.

You were not his (Name).

His (Name) died for him.

You would be the death of him.

AHHH IM SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT!! <3

𝐛𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐰𝐚'𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 - 𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲

neteyam sully had always been the responsible older brother, and part of that was looking after his rogue younger brother. And maybe becoming a regular patient at the local healers...

– pairings: neteyam x oc

– warning: fluff, canon divergent, cross-posted on wattpad

– author's note: this oneshot takes place about a year or so before the main events of avatar 2 (the evacuation of the sullys, etc.)

Neteyam Sully, respectfully, was the golden child. The one who could do no wrong.

Lo’ak Sully, on the other hand, was on the opposite end of that table. He was chaotic, rogue, and off-leash. Everything about him was to uproot his brother, to make his father notice him, albeit for the wrong reasons. And this often led to Neteyam taking the blame for his younger brother’s actions.

It became a habit. Lo’ak finds trouble, Neteyam is dragged along and the two of them end up with injuries. Well, that was the reason for the current situation that they were in.

Neteyam stood beside his brother, Lo’ak looking shamefully down at the ground as Jake had his arms crossed. The Toruk Makto let out a frustrated sigh at both his sons’ antics, gazing over their wounds.

Thankfully, it was nothing too serious, mainly scratches that bled a little along with bruises that could easily be healed with some salves.

Jake let out another huff as he pointed a finger at his younger son, Lo’ak’s gaze snapping up to meet his dad’s while Neteyam watched in silence.

“You are both grounded, no more flying off on your ikran without my permission for a week,” Jake huffed. “Neteyam, take Lo’ak to Mo’at so that she can heal the both of you. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Neteyam responded clearly enough for his father to understand.

Lo’ak muttered under his breath and Neteyam elbowed his brother in a way that told him to keep his mouth shut. Jake’s eyes widened at his son’s defiance.

“I said, have I made myself clear?” Jake gave Lo'ak a stern look and Neteyam bit the inside of his cheek nervously.

"Yes, sir," Lo'ak strained out.

"Good. Now get yourselves patched up."

With that, Lo'ak stormed out with Neteyam trailing behind him. But before the eldest son could leave, Jake placed his hand on his shoulder.

"Keep an eye out so that your brother doesn't cause more trouble," Jake sighed. "And I think you might want to get familiar with the other healers. Just in case, for future purposes."

"Yes sir."

“Grandmother!” 

Neteyam called out to Mo’at as he entered the hut, a grumbling Lo’ak following behind. 

“Grandmother, we might need some help with our injuries!” The eldest child frowned at the absence of his grandmother’s visage.

“Grandmother?” Neteyam called out again before hearing a thud behind him.

The boy whipped around to find that another figure had hopped down from a nearby branch, their face covered by curly locks.

“The tsahik has left to collect more herbs.” Her soft voice spoke as she approached the two brothers.

The girl put on a soft smile as she greeted the Olo’ekytan’s sons with their traditional greeting. From there, the boys took in her appearance, noting that she couldn’t be much younger than Neteyam.

Feathers dangled from her necklace, the upper layer a mint green, the lower a crimson red while another choker-like necklace was settled higher up on her neck, semi-precious stones attached to it. 

“Oel ngati kameie,” She smiled, and for a minute, Neteyam thought he felt his heartbeat stutter.

Lo’ak returned the gesture, nodding at the girl before glancing over at his brother. The younger son stared at the elder one in confusion as he elbowed his brother from his frozen state.

Neteyam blinked, pushing Lo’ak’s elbow away before hurriedly repeating the hand gesture of their greeting, his eyes never leaving hers. 

“Oel ngati kameie,” He muttered, snapping out of his daze. “Are you… Are you a healer?”

“In training,” the girl replied with a kind smile. ”The tsahik entrusted me to take care of her healing place and to help in case anything were to happen. She predicted correctly, as per usual.”

Neteyam chuckled with a bright smile, something that didn’t pass Lo’ak’s suspicious stare.

“Well, grandmother is always right about most things,” he grinned. “So if you’re in charge, could you help tend to our wounds then?”

“Of course,” she beamed with a joking twinkle in her eye. “It is a healer’s job to heal, isn’t it?”

Lo’ak noticed how his brother didn’t reply at all, only smiling as though he were in a trance as the girl sat him down on a nearby cot. The younger brother followed, a small mischievous smile growing on his face as he realized his brother’s giddy grin.

Neyetam himself hadn't realized it, but he was enamored by her grace and poise as she walked around the hut, gathering the salves. He smiled gently at the way her hair framed her face perfectly. 

He felt as though whenever her kind eyes met his, he was being pulled into something dangerous but calming at the same time. And unknowingly, his heart beat a little bit harder when she placed her hand gently against the wound on his arm, the healing balms cooling on her finger tips.

Her hands were immaculately soft, and he felt his cheeks warm at the sensation. Neteyam quickly glanced away from the healer as soon as he saw how dangerously close her face was to his. He spotted her ochre eyes focused on treating his injury through her lashes, but he didn’t feel the sting of the salve meeting his skin.

“So, uh,” Lo’ak began, clearing his throat as the girl looked up at his brother’s direction.

“What’s your name?”

Neteyam’s face heated up in embarrassment at the thought of staring at her for so long without even knowing the girl’s name. He was internally thankful that Lo’ak spoke up.

“Näytle,” The girl smiled at the boys. “Näytle Te Ìviu Oa’ite.”

Neteyam repeated her name in her head, committing it to memory as he loved the way her voice so smoothly rang in his mind. 

Suddenly, she called his name and he felt like he was stuck in a daze again. His name rolling off of her tongue sounded so… right.

“Yes?” He blinked in response.

“I said your name correctly, yes?” 

The way her head tilted ever so slightly had his heart melting in his chest.

“Yes, yeah,” he nodded quickly. “Y-You said it perfectly.”

“Oh, thank Eywa I did.” She chuckled lightly as she released his arm. “I would’ve been so embarrassed if I had gotten either of your names wrong.”

“Well it’s hard to get it wrong,” Lo’ak shrugged. “Our names are really popular around the village–”

Lo’ak was interrupted with a silent hiss as he felt his brother lightly slap the back of his head. Näytle giggled at the brothers’ antics, watching the way a dumb grin returned to Neteyam’s face while Lo’ak grumbled, frowning at the gesture.

“No, no,” Näytle shook her head. “Your brother does have a point. You two have both built a reputation as the Olo’eyktan’s sons.”

“Is it anything good?” Neteyam queried with eager eyes, wondering if her thoughts on him were positive. He prayed to Eywa that they were only good things.

“Oh, it is perfectly fine,” the healer hummed with a grin. “I don’t think I would let what I hear from gossipers determine what I should think of you.”

“Well, I think you should expect our visits more often.” Neteyam placed up at the girl shyly.

“Why? Are both of you troublemakers?” Näytle gave him a questioning look and the older boy shook his head vehemently.

“Only Lo’ak. I’m just keeping an eye out for him.”

“Hey!”

“But that doesn’t mean I’m not getting any injuries.”

Lo’ak huffed at his older brother for throwing him under the bus in such a fashion, especially for a girl.

“Well try not to be injured too much,” Näytle lifted her fingers from Lo’ak’s scraped knee, the salve applying smoothly on his rigid skin as she pulled away to return the lotions used.

“We can’t have the future Olo’eyktan be in bad condition before his rule.”

The girl finished off, tossing him a wink and Neteyam laughed stupidly at the joke. 

Lo’ak stood up from the cot, rolling his eyes in mock disgust as he grabbed his brother’s uninjured arm, dragging Neteyam away from his love-stricken stupor. 

“Yeah, okay! No promises though!” Neteyam called out from the hut’s doorway to where Näytle stood.

“Come on, skxawng,” Lo’ak grumbled, dragging his older brother away. “Your ogling eyes make me sick.”

“Maybe if you didn’t get us in trouble so much you wouldn’t be suffering now.” Neteyam ruffled his younger brother’s hair. 

“Besides, I don’t get what’s making you so sick. She’s a great healer.”

“Oh brother,” Lo’ak smiled at his brother in disbelief, his confident stride halting. “You’re seriously not this dense, are you?”

Neteyam’s confused smile was all the proof that Lo’ak needed to know that his brother was utterly clueless about his feelings towards the beautiful healer who homed the hut not too far from where they stood. 

“Maybe it was by Eywa’s will that you met her.” Lo’ak scoffed. “This is the worst punishment for my actions ever.”

theme inspired by @aokoaoi !

gif by @world-of-pandora

taglist: @mooncleaver @moonie-writings @peacelovepandora