☆ Itto Drabble.

THE FANBOY GUIDE!

˗ˋ ୨୧ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ୨୧ ˊ˗ fanboy!gojo x celebrity!reader

˗ˋ ୨୧ 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ୨୧ ˊ˗ gojo, one of your biggest fans, has the chance to finally meet you. however, he hopes to also accomplish his number one dream: to fuck his idol.

˗ˋ ୨୧ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ୨୧ ˊ˗ 18+ ONLY // MINORS DNI - (switch!gojo, creampie, oral f!receiving, riding) fem!reader, no curses au.

˗ˋ ୨୧ 𝐀/𝐍: ୨୧ ˊ˗ gojo has been on my mind, & this is the result! header concept inspired by @kazushawty’s cyber theme.

˗ˋ ୨୧ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ୨୧ ˊ˗ 4K

THANK YOU FOR YOUR PURCHASE, SATORU. ENJOY THE EVENT!

The blue-eyed man blinked at his bright computer screen, which displayed his emailed receipt from Ticketmaster. In the left pocket of his black sweatpants — which he wore despite the summer heat at this time of year — his phone buzzed to alert him of a fat sum of money being taken out of his bank account.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled to himself.

He refreshed the page. And he refreshed it once more.

But after two lengthy scrolls through the confirmation email, there was no denying it.

He was going to meet you.

Gojo’s long fingers clicked away at his mouse and keyboard until he landed on his rather popular fan blog. To say that he was a member of your fandom would be an understatement, as he practically ruled over all of your supporters and gave true meaning to his username, kinggojo.

Even as a busy high school teacher and martial arts instructor — perhaps, entrepreneur as well, being as he owned his own martial arts school — he still carved out some time every single day to post about you. Watch your videos. Study your latest professional photoshoots and off-guard paparazzi shots.

And soon, a little plastic backstage pass will dangle around his neck, giving him undenied access to you.

The real you.

—

kinggojo: guess who’s finally gonna meet y/n? (:

—

At the airport, Gojo spent his time FaceTiming Nanami, who had to endure his rambunctious ramblings while on his lunch break.

“Give me one year,” Gojo paused, glancing down at his phone, “one year, and I swear, she’s gonna become my wife.”

“I don’t care,” Nanami chewed on his sandwich. “Please leave me alone.”

“Yeahhh, you’re just jealous.” As Gojo grinned goofily, the salaryman promptly ended the video chat.

While Gojo would have dialed him back repeatedly until he gave in and answered, Nanami had lucked out, as it was time for him to board his plane.

The plane ride was nothing short of exhilarating. Gliding through the air as a first-class passenger, he counted down the minutes until he’d finally see your charming smile in person.

Naturally, he had to splurge for an occasion as special as this one.

The best seats on the plane, the nicest hotel room in the city — he wished he could personally thank the spoiled geniuses who invented valet parking and free drinks for first-class passengers.

Although his bank account had seen better spending days, he was perfectly fine with eating cheap styrofoam cups of chicken flavored ramen once he got back home from his trip.

In his hotel room the night before his Big Day, Gojo gathered everything he might have needed along with his ironed outfit, and hung it up in the closet. He took his time with making sure he’d look especially sharp come morning, as he wanted to look good for you.

Good enough for you to fuck him.

Call him crazy. Overly optimistic. But he had a goal; an accomplishable dream that made his dick harden against the fabric of his pants whenever he thought about having hot, creamy sex with you — his number one idol.

As he crawled into bed and lazily stroked his cock, painting his fist white as the pearly ropes of cum spurted out of him, he thought about what it would be like if his wildest dream came true.

—

At the meet and greet, Gojo stood around backstage with all of the other fans, and one of them even knew about his blog. They all chatted about you, occasionally interrupting themselves to mumble a quick “I’m so nervous,” before talking about another topic, and Gojo couldn’t help but have pity for them.

He was nervous as well, of course, but even more so, he was determined.

And when you stepped through the door, smiling once your prosperous groupies shrieked and squealed, Gojo had finally understood what authors meant when they wrote about love at first sight.

You were more beautiful than he could have imagined. Even more gorgeous than in your pictures somehow. He was certain that you even glanced his way, but he couldn’t prove it.

“There she is,” Gojo said to no one in particular, not even completely aware that the words had fallen from between his lips, but a woman standing next to him spoke up.

“I can’t believe this is really happening!” She shook her hands out of pure excitement. “I hope she’ll sign my merch!”

Precious.

Some people had hopes and dreams as simple as that one. The taller man was certain that if he confessed his own hopes, they’d laugh at him.

Or worse, get him kicked out of the meet-and-greet completely.

But he didn’t have time to worry about what anyone else hoped to gain out of your event, not when the queue was moving rather quickly, and he found himself biting his lower lip and shifting his weight.

He was growing more and more nervous with every second that passed by. It was the ultimate countdown until he’d finally meet you.

Soon enough, it was his turn.

“Hi,” you beamed kindly at the handsome stranger, “how are you?”

How cute.

Your sweet, customer service tone made his heart skip a beat, and while he wanted to revel in the fact that he was meeting you and you were speaking to him, he couldn’t think too much about it. He couldn’t risk losing his cool.

“I’m better now that I’ve met you,” Gojo smiled, pulling out his phone to take the one photo he was promised in his package deal. “How are you doing? Having fun?”

You tilted your head a bit, and it occurred to Gojo that most fans probably didn’t bother to ask about your day, or your feelings.

“I’m great, thanks. You’re really kind for asking that!” You smiled. “What pose would you like to do, honey?”

Gojo melted inside. He knew the term was simply meant to make your fans feel more special than they actually were, but even so, he’d never forget the sound of you saying that to him.

Suddenly, Gojo wrapped one arm around your waist, pulled you against his side, and he raised his phone before snapping a photo with you.

Before he pulled away, he whispered into your ear, “there’s something really sweet about the way you called me honey just now.”

“O-Oh,” you stammered, looking down at your feet, the stranger’s warm breath against your ear made your cheeks warm up. “I just call everyone honey.”

“Of course, I’m just saying that I liked it. You’re just…” Gojo paused, looking you up and down, “pretty cute, aren’t you?”

Looking up at him with an expression he couldn’t quite read, you said, “are you flirting with me?”

Gojo glanced at your security guard. The buff guy was more interested in the complimentary buffet than your protection, and Gojo took a step closer, hearing a jealous groan from the line of fans behind him.

“Maybe,” A small smirk appeared across Gojo’s face. “How would you feel if I was?”

“I’d probably have to just . . . ask you to leave.”

“There’s no need, sweetheart,” Gojo said softly, “I’m running out of time anyway. But that’s no way to treat a fan, is it?”

You gulped. You stared deeply into his eyes.

“You’re, um,” you said shakily, “you’re allowed to hug me before you go . . . if you want.”

“Come here, then.”

The tall man wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close. The hug lasted longer than it should have.

“I’d love to spend more time with you,” Gojo whispered. “Maybe some other time.”

As he pulled away, you felt him slip something into your pocket.

“It was nice meeting you,” you said.

He left without another word.

Your meet-and-greet lasted for two entire hours after that, and throughout every single interaction with a fan of yours, you couldn't help but wonder what the handsome man slipped into your pocket.

Finally, as your event came to an end, you reached into your pocket and found a yellow sticky note.

Written on it was an address, a hotel room number, and his name.

—

Any sane person who valued their safety and their life would have ignored it. Toss the note in the trash. But you found yourself standing outside of his hotel room door, and for the first time in your entire life, you were nervous about meeting a fan.

You knocked on the door, your breath shaky as you did so.

“This is insane,” you thought.

Half of you wanted to run away before he answered. The other half of you wanted to stay.

But, before you could truly decide, he opened the door, standing there with a genuine look of surprise.

“Huh,” Gojo smirked, stepping to the side to let you into his room. “You actually came.”

It was all an act; the cool, calm, and collected aura was a cover-up, for underneath it all, he was a mess of a man.

The sweaty palms that he secretly tried to wipe off on his pants. His throat dried to a crisp no matter how many bottles of water he downed before you knocked on his hotel room door, which was idiotic, because he ended up spending the last thirty minutes before your scheduled arrival running back and forth to the bathroom to pee.

However, after years of flashing a false smile in front of a classroom packed with moody teenagers during his darkest days, and dishonestly congratulating his martial arts students even when their kicks were less than splendid to encourage them and see them beam with confidence, Gojo had considerable expertise when it came to acting.

Of course, he was nervous.

It was you.

Even so, as his heart pounded rapidly inside of his chest, he was beyond thrilled about what was to come.

And who was to come.

“I knew you’d be surprised. I'm surprised as well.” Shutting the door after you entered his unexpectedly luxurious hotel room, you gulped, your eyes failing to meet his bright blue ones. “I don’t normally do stuff like this.”

“Sleep with fans?” Raising an eyebrow, Gojo’s cocky smirk turned into a rather kind smile.

“Yeah.”

“Well then, I’m honored. I mean, just getting to meet you was something I wanted for a long time. And to know you’re actually gonna let me ruin you?” Slowly, he leaned in, placing a soft kiss against your cheek. “It’s a dream come true.”

“Are you really a fan of me?” You gave him a look of disbelief.

“Of course I am,” he mumbled. “Why? You don’t believe me?”

“You could have pretended to be a fan to get my attention or something, I don’t know.” You shrugged shyly, which was the cutest thing Gojo had probably ever seen. His cheeks started to burn from grinning so much.

“Trust me,” Gojo suddenly pressed his palm against your jaw, running his thumb across your cheek, stroking you delicately as if he were touching fragile flower petals. “I’ve watched every single video that you’ve ever posted, seen almost every photo, liked every tweet, and ignored all of your typos. I’ve read every single piece of fanfiction about you that I’ve come across online. Tried to write my own one time. It was shit, but still. I’m not really the kinda guy who likes to label myself, but if I’m not your biggest fan, then I don’t know who is.”

When he ran his thumb over your mouth, pulling down on your soft bottom lip ever so gently, he couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to actually kiss you.

He wanted to do it.

Desperately.

Moonlit nights spent warm in his bed were when he alternated between his top five favorite scenarios, daydreaming about your first kiss as he drifted off to sleep. And, now, he would have the chance to feel your pillowy lips against his — and, god — they felt so perfect against his digit, he ended up chewing on his own bottom lip as he touched yours.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked softly, his eyes flickering between your gaze and your lips. “Please?”

“You’re my biggest fan, apparently, so you can do whatever you’d like.”

He pressed his lips against yours. Every single First Kiss! cliche he had seen in movies and read about in books — going on about fireworks and such — had a bit of truth to it, because when your buttery lips touched his, he instantly melted into the kiss.

It was as if he was born for the sole purpose of kissing you — like a god created his mind, body, and soul for that specific reason.

He moaned; it was strange, yet familiar, as he never made such a delicious, sinful noise whenever he kissed someone.

But then again, during late-night hookups with unsatisfying women, he wasn’t one to typically make any sort of noise.

Apparently, he only ever moaned if it had something to do with you.

Whether he was jerking off to your bikini photos on Instagram, or kissing you, as it would seem, only you could elicit such a beautiful sound from him.

And he wasn’t complaining. Not one bit.

“Gojo,” you mumbled softly against his lips. “Don’t be such a gentleman.”

“Trust me, I’m not.” Gojo's mouth hovered over yours as he spoke. “You have no idea how badly I wanna toss you on that bed right now. I just need to take my time with you and enjoy every minute. I’ve waited too long for this to happen, and I’m not gonna rush it.”

Despite his words, when he reconnected your lips, he kissed you hungrily.

Hurriedly.

His tongue entered your mouth as his hand held onto the back of your neck. It was such a messy kiss, but a passionate one as well, and only a man like Gojo could pull off both with a simple swirl of his tongue, which battled against yours.

And your mouth tasted absolutely delicious. He could hardly wait to taste your pussy as well, wondering how it could compare.

When Gojo’s other hand suddenly gripped your ass, a little gasp escaped from you, and he took that god-given opportunity to deepen the kiss.

If he could have his mouth attached to yours like this forever, wet tongues darting around as you swallowed each other’s moans, he would.

He didn’t want to pull apart to breathe, didn’t want to pause for even a moment and detach his lips from yours, but he did.

He pulled away, but only so he could leave kisses along your jawline.

“Gojo,” you whined, lifting your neck to give the tall man full access to your sensitive skin.

And when those skillful lips of his found that sweet spot right underneath your jaw, he licked and sucked at it as if he’d absolutely die if he didn’t.

“You’re whining like that just from me giving you a little hickey?” Gojo mumbled against your wet skin. “Now I’m curious about the kinda noises you’ll make once I eat your pussy. I won’t lie; I’m pretty excited.”

“Then just do it already,” whining once more, you gripped his shoulders as he started to make his way down your neck, leaving kisses across your collarbone.

“Patience,” Gojo said.

And when he spoke, he spoke as if he wasn’t truly freaking out on the inside.

His idol was desperate for him.

If he didn’t believe in luck before, he surely did now.

Gojo’s large hands, which were formerly roaming your body, pulled your top off swiftly, including your bra. If only he could take your bra with him as a souvenir.

It took all of his strength to not drool at the sight of your hard nipples.

God, were they perfect.

They were certainly magnificent enough to make any previous plans for having patience and taking his time with you flutter out of his lustful mind, as only a few seconds after removing your shirt, you were laying on the bed with Gojo hovering over your tits. He bit his lip in anticipation.

“Can I suck on them?” He asked, his eyes never once glancing away from your chest. “Please?”

“Yes-”

You were interrupted by a sudden gasp falling from your lips, as Gojo attached his mouth to your hard nipple as soon as you mumble that simple little word.

“Hmm,” he moaned.

First, he licked at your nipple while flicking your other one with his finger. Then, he took it into his mouth, sucking on it as he listened to your soft moans, which was a sound he wanted to hear for the rest of his life.

Repeating his actions with your other nipple, he smiled against your tit when you suddenly ran your hand through his hair.

As badly as he wanted to fuck you, the thought of simply laying on your chest on a lazy Sunday afternoon as you ran your fingers across his scalp sounded like a dream.

It sounded like love.

He wanted that with you too.

Gojo took off your pants. He took off his shirt.

Then, he left a trail of kisses down your stomach until he made his way in between your legs. Having the honor of looking at your pussy was comparable only to walking through the golden gates of Heaven.

“What a pretty pussy,” he whispered to himself, running his thumb along your wet folds.

Like a starved man diving into a Thanksgiving dinner, Gojo spread your lips apart, and started to lick your clit.

Even with your back arched, fingers running through his hair as you moaned and moaned, Gojo was certain that he was enjoying it even more.

The hand that was formerly holding the wet lips of your pussy open made its way down to his dick, and he rubbed his clothed dick while moaning against your sensitive button, which he licked at rapidly with his wet tongue.

“Hmm, oh — baby,” he moaned and moaned.

“Gojo,” you whimpered.

He looked up at you through those long eyelashes of his. He was actually going to make you cum all over his tongue.

Excitement ran through his veins like a drug. He attached his lips to your clit, sucking on it until your delicious juice flooded his mouth.

“Oh my god,” you squealed, thrashing around as he refused to snatch himself away from your pussy. Not until all of your creamy mess was all licked up.

Wasting even a drop of your cum was an outright sin. One he would never forgive himself over.

He detached himself from your pussy with a little smack, licking his lips as he sat up.

Gojo started to unbuckle his belt. “You ready?”

You nodded, but once he pulled his pants down, the sight of his large cock made you gulp.

But you should have known.

He was tall. Large hands. Large feet. Large cock, of course.

Gojo pressed his tip against your folds, rubbing the head of cock up and down your wet hole, collecting your juices as he worked his way from your hole to your clit repeatedly.

The very split second in which his cock was pressed against your entrance was a telltale sign that you had never taken a dick that was as big as his.

It managed to put your past partners to shame.

And your purple dildo too.

“It’s too big,” you whined, blinking up at him.

“Don’t worry, I got you,” Gojo rested his hard member against your hole. “I’m gonna make it fit, baby. You’re gonna be a good girl for me and take it, right?”

You were getting impatient. The urge to feel him fill you up was undeniably strong, but also, his urge to take his time with you was equally as powerful.

“Only if you be a good fanboy for me,” you frowned, “and put it in.”

“I had no idea you’d be so impatient,” Gojo smiled, but even so, he still didn’t move. Not yet.

“Don’t tease me,” you said.

“Tease you?” Gojo ran his hand along your thigh, and your frown deepened. “I’m just taking my time. Not my fault you’re so-”

“Maybe I should’ve picked another fan.”

Gojo suddenly shoved himself inside of you.

Screw how much he wanted to savor the moment. If you wanted to be fucked right now, fast and hard, then he’d do it. He’d do anything for you.

After kindly letting your pussy adjust to his size, he increased his speed.

The bed squeaked from his thrusts. He pressed his forehead against yours, his warm breath patting against your face as he moaned softly.

“Faster,” you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Oh, did he obey.

He not only fucked you at a harsher speed, but he repositioned himself so that he could thrust in and out of you roughly.

He anticipated the noise complaint he’d receive from the hotel staff already. Not that he cared. He didn’t care about anything except for how good your pussy felt around his cock, and as his moans increased in volume, all of his thoughts slowly fluttered out of his pretty little head.

He couldn’t focus on anything aside from the pleasure.

He just loved you so much. Your content had changed him as a person, shaped his life into something worth living, and now, here he was, thriving in the utter pleasure you gave him. It melted away his cocky attitude, and he gripped the sheets until his knuckles turned white.

“I can’t believe you’re letting me do this,” Gojo said. “I . . . god, I need . . .”

He was begging for something and nothing at the same time, just so desperate and pathetic for you, you, you.

Suddenly, you pushed on Gojo’s shoulders.

“Let’s switch,” you bit your lip. “I wanna ride you.”

He could have cried. You wanted to ride him? Only a fool would turn down that opportunity, and he was quickly on his back as you climbed over him.

“That’s it, pretty baby. Get on top of me.” His large hands gripped your perfect ass, and instantly, he dreaded the very moment when he’d have to eventually let go. His eyes — which glistened with lust without any decency and excitement without any substances — darted down to your wet hole sinking his aching cock. “Oh — put it in. Put it in.”

“Now who’s impatient?” You smirked, but you couldn’t tease him for long, as when his big cock entered you, your mouth flung open with utter shock over how full you felt.

Perhaps, it was foolish to believe that his size was something you’d get used to after he pounded your pussy into oblivion moments before.

Slowly, but surely, you started to bounce up and down along his length. Those bright eyes of his, which were now fixated on your beautiful boobs, fluttered closed as he tossed his head back.

“Oh my fucking god,” he moaned. “Feels so damn good. You’re so perfect, you know that? Keep bouncing on my cock, baby. Just like that.”

He went on and on, more heartfelt words pouring out of his mouth with every jolt of your body.

“I’m so obsessed with you,” he continued, “I can’t lose you after this, I can’t. I can’t, baby. You’re fucking me so good, please…”

He whimpered, which was utterly shocking to him, but it made your walls clench around his dick. His desperation turned you on in unimaginable ways, as now, he was revealing his true colors underneath the false chill and cool persona, and he was nothing more than a pathetic, cute, little fanboy.

“I love you,” a tear slipped down his cheek from utter delight. “I love you so much. Stay with me, I’ll do anything. I want you all to myself.”

“So, so, devoted to me, huh?” You said breathlessly, yet sweetly.

Truth be told, his cock felt so wonderful thrusting in and out of you, it would have been entirely unshocking if you ended up being addicted to him as well.

“I’m gonna cum-” Gojo wrapped his arms around your waist, bucking his hip up to fuck you as deeply as possible. “I’m so close — I’m right there. I can’t hold it, sweetheart, I-I can’t keep it in much longer.”

“Cum for me, Gojo.” You whispered. “Be good for your little idol, yeah? Tell me how much you wanna cum.”

“So badly,” he swallowed thickly, beads of sweat forming across his forehead, his white hair sticking to his salty skin. He was starting to become dizzy from the way your pussy worked on his cock. He couldn’t hold himself back. “I . . . Oh fuck.”

White ropes of his creamy cum exploded out of his dick, shooting inside of you with such urgency and desperation, that a light shade of pink dusted across his cheeks from utter embarrassment.

The white-haired man’s cock twitched. It throbbed until every last drop of semen filled your insides, and broken moans poured out of his throat.

“So much of it,” he softly whined, burying his reddened face in your neck. “I’m sorry.”

His cum spilled out of your pussy. It trickled down until it drenched the white sheets underneath you both, but Gojo’s hips continued to lazily buck up, sweaty skin slapping against sweaty skin as he fucked his cum right back inside of you.

—

After taking a few moments to catch your breaths, you and Gojo were right back at it, going round after round until the sun rose, marking the very next day.

The teacher, who had fallen asleep somewhere around 5 A.M., awakened with a shiver shooting up his spine from the chilly hotel room air. And it made sense why, as he was completely naked.

But when he realized that you weren’t in bed with him, nor were your clothes tangled up on the ground along with his, he frowned.

Was it a dream? No. He knew it really happened. Perhaps, he was a fool to think that you’d stay with him, that you both would wake up together and shower before ordering some breakfast via room service.

You were a celebrity, he was simply a fan, and there was no hope for-

Suddenly, a yellow sticky note fell off of Gojo’s chest.

Written on it was your phone number, and a little heart.

—

When Gojo returned home two days later, he collapsed in his rolling chair, exhaling a deep breath followed by an airy laugh.

Even as he opened his laptop and logged onto his blog, he couldn’t believe his luck. The ultimate fanboy, he was.

Half of him contemplated the idea of creating a guide for every other hopeful man with an appetite geared exclusively towards their idol, but in his gut — which twisted with excitement whenever he thought about you creaming all over his cock so deliciously — he knew that he was simply a lucky man.

A lottery winner. The chosen one.

Even if he got an imaginary Master’s Degree in the study of Banging-Your-Idol, and went on to write nonfiction self-help books to aid all of his followers, they would all still fail to accomplish what he did.

However, even if he couldn’t create a guide to help out every other horny and helpless individual, he could still do one thing.

Brag.

And with that, after taking a screenshot of the recent notification that appeared across his screen — showing that your popular, verified account had followed him back — he started typing.

—

kinggojo: hey guys (: none of you are gonna believe what just happened…

♡ 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠!

♡ 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 & 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝!

🏷: @downforsanji @robynnnhooddd @ritsatoru @natalie-san @mikkies @sunjayist @blkwriters @shigemis0ra @whippedbyikemen @arizzu @staubmotte @mokonasenpaiposts @whats-humanity-lol @mbappesgirlfriend @satoruscurse @bear-likes-mushrooms @rinxgojo @arcswonderland @torusmochi @huang-the-geek @ivytears @salmasalamoon @ackachii @ploylulla @1989-taylors @heiixou @roronoaswifey @yourmumsthings @brownskin-bunny @arisucat @dreamtravelersade @hottiewifeyyyy @levin4nami @dazailover1900 @gojomaki @chosogatitos @hoshigaby @trawberry-fire @potofstewie @mx-mekla

Are you feeling happy?

Aventurine avoids all the popular teen hang-out spots like fast food restaurants, arcades, bowling arenas, etc. Because he didn't get to experience all those in his own childhood and feels out of place and unworthy to be there.

The same for family-oriented places, like amusement parks, or water parks, cause, what family?

That's why he hides himself in casinos or other adult places, where everyone else is as desperate and pathetic as him, just so he won't have to witness the life he never got (or according to him, never can)

So, when you take him out to such places, he had previously avoided like the plague, teaching him all those silly fast food hacks, and playing on the slides or swings meant for kids, it isn't just a silly date like you think, for him it's a therapeutic experience, healing his inner child.

Are you still happy?

More fluff

jjk men when you aren't feeling well but try to hide it...

"hello! i was wondering if you could write an angst but w comfort fluff headcannon w the jjk men? i was thinking reader has an injury or is sick but she hides it, but they find out. it would be great if you can, but if not i totally understand. your writing is amazing!!!" -anon

gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna

satoru gojo: (sprained ankle!)

you're fucked.

you know you are the moment you go to pick yourself up from your boyfriend's hardwood kitchen floors and wince in pain in reaction to the pressure in your left ankle.

you hiss, immediately stumbling back to a sitting position. You look over your outstretched foot to find that your ankle is rapidly swelling, and you curse under your breath.

this is so inconvenient. of all times to injure yourself, you of course had to a day before an important mission. you never handle injuries very well. you are always so quick to brush them off, or at least be in denial about them because you can't stand the thought of feeling helpless or incapable.

especially not when satoru gojo is your boyfriend, who unfortunately knows you far too well to overlook something like an injury to your ankle.

damn. what are you supposed to do? satoru will never let you out of his sight, let alone allow you to go on this mission if he finds out about your injury. as much as you love the way he looks after you, you're not in the mood to accept the fact that you may not be able to walk for a few days without his help.

you try to stand again, stubborn with determination. you grip onto the countertop and rise slowly on your able foot, then lean to press your injured foot down slowly. okay... not so bad! Maybe you can add just a little bit more pressure, and-

"fuck," you curse, sharp pain throbbing through your foot the moment you try to walk. You lift your leg immediately and whimper, leaning your body against the counter. "god dammit," you pout.

you should ice it, you think, but icing it will only make the injury more real. maybe it's not so bad, right? maybe if you just sit down for a bit and push it to the back of your head, it will go away?

you know it's not smart, but truthfully, you don't have the time to worry about a stupid ankle. you're sure you only irritated it. with some rest, you'll be fine.

you hop your way up the stairs with your hand gripping the railing tightly to your shared bedroom and ease yourself into bed. you decide you'll take a nap while you wait for satoru to come home, ignoring the simmering pain in your swollen ankle.

"babyyy!"

you wake suddenly to the sound of satoru's voice singing through the house. you jump and immediately hold in a whimper of pain when you accidentally shift your foot beneath the covers. you can tell solely by the lack of mobility in your ankle that it's, unsurprisingly, gotten worse.

you panic, moving quickly to prop your back up against the headboard. you fix yourself in the most normal possible position you can without agitating your foot, and you turn to the door with an innocent expression the second satoru bursts through with a beam.

"hey, pretty," he walks in and immediately crouches over the bed to wrap you up in a hug. you cringe as his lips meet every crook of your face, his body enveloping you in warmth. "missed you so much today," he sighs.

"missed you too, toru," you wrap your arms around his back. "how was your day?"

"same old same old. the higher-ups only get more annoying each day, if that's even possible," he grumbles into your ear, slumping against you. "what are you doing cooped up here all by yourself? you taking a nap?"

"yeah, I just woke up," you tell him with a hefty exhale, his lips meeting the crook of your neck lazily as he nuzzles into you. "you wanna take one with me, you big baby?" you giggle.

"god yes," satoru agrees. "but first, I'm starving. did you eat while I was gone?"

"nah, I waited for you, toru."

"well, you normally cook, baby, I was waiting for you."

you momentarily freeze and he pulls back reluctantly, not before dotting one more kiss to the crook of your jaw. you had completely forgotten about making dinner, but seeing how you couldn't even walk, those cards were off the table.

he looks down at you with his arms propped on either side of your figure on the bed. your ankle continues to throb, and while you try to hide the pain that you are currently in by shifting ever so subtly beneath him, his sapphire eyes catch the twitch in your brow and the motion of your body beneath his blindfold.

"not that I care if you cook or not. obviously you were tired..." he trails off. "you okay?"

fucking hell, damn those six eyes.

you nod despite yourself, keeping a soft smile as you brush your fingers over satoru's hair. "yeah, of course. just tired like you said. I'm sorry about dinner, it slipped my mind."

"don't you dare apologize," he ducks down to kiss your cheek loudly. "we can go out to eat. make it a date before your big mission tomorrow, yeah?"

you internally deflate. the idea sounds amazing, but going on a date would mean getting up, getting dressed, and walking out the door. you're unfortunately physically incapable of doing any of the above at the moment.

satoru watches the way your shoulders slump and your lips part as if to protest, and he tilts his head in slight confusion. "...or not..." he says slowly.

"sorry, toru, it's not that I don't wanna go, i just don't have the energy..." you excuse pathetically.

satoru's face tells you that he doesn't buy your words, but he complies nonetheless. "that's no problem, baby, we can order in instead."

you sigh and nod with a gentle smile. "that sounds great."

"someone's feeling real lazy today, huh?" he teases, hooking his finger into his blindfold to peel it from his face, revealing his bright irises gazing curiously down at you. "you sure you're just tired?"

"yeah... why?"

"i'm just askin," he says. his eyes dart over you one more time before he pushes himself up with an exhale and tugging at your arm. "come on, let's go to the living room to order."

why the hell does he want to move around so much?!

"um- why can't we just order here?"

a smile quirks on Satoru's lips as though you've made a joke. "cause, we'll be downstairs once the food gets here," he says.

you pucker your lips slightly and tilt your head. "can't we just eat it up here and you can go get it?"

gojo's eyes are now slim with suspicion as he pulls himself back over to you. "i mean, of course i can but you never eat takeout in bed, we always cuddle downstairs and eat."

"I'm tired, can't i change it up today?"

"you know i have no problem doing what you want and pampering you baby," satoru starts slowly. his eyes dash to your legs, and he suddenly notes that he has not seen you bend them in the few minutes he has been home. in fact, you had been rather stagnant instead of running up to clobber him when he entered the room, whether you were previously asleep or not. "but you're acting a little weird."

"no, I'm not," you deny adamantly. you have always been a poor liar, but in the face of Satoru Gojo, your lack of talent in the arena only proves to be more prominent. "you think too much, you know that?"

"you think so?" he raises a brow at you, a hint of playfulness remaining though it is steadily fleeting the longer he examines you. "you think i'm thinking too much if i feel like you're lying to me?"

you press your lips together tightly. "...yes."

"hm," he nods. "come here for a second, pretty," he requests, stepping back a bit to give you room to stand. "just real quick, then you can lay back down and I'll get us that food."

"why do you want me to stand?"

"i wanna give you a big hug," he opens his arms widely. "c'mon, give your loving boyfriend a hug. you'd never deny me that after such a long day."

"come hug me here, then," you roll your eyes, turning to look the other way as heat overtakes your body.

"i want to hold you and pick you up," he argues, knowingly. "just stand and walk to me for one second."

"no."

"no?!"

"no, i don't want to."

"don't want to or you can't?" he accuses, face falling along with his arms. he moves to sit at the edge of the bed beside your legs, resting a hand over your uninjured one. "why can't you get up?" he asks, this time a tad more serious.

"i don't feel like it, satoru, god," you murmur in annoyance, growing agitated with his swiftness to notice that something is wrong.

"don't 'satoru' me, baby, you're the one not telling the truth," he says. "what's wrong with your legs?"

"nothing."

"then stand up."

"no, satoru. stop telling me to stand."

"i will if you tell me what's wrong."

"nothing's wrong!" you shrug harshly, crossing your arms and suddenly taking interest in whatever is outside of the bedroom window. satoru stares at you intently for a moment then back down at your covered legs.

he gazes harshly between the two, pondering, before reaching over to rip the comforter upward to reveal your bare feet. you gasp slightly, jerking to stop him, when your swollen ankle is revealed.

his brows immediately angle and he leans to hastily look over it. "(y/n), what the hell?! what happened to your foot?"

you grow embarrassed suddenly, moving to brush his hands away. "it's not that bad, stop," you say, going to move your leg to the side when you hiss sharply.

"not that bad? baby, your ankle's the size of a golfball!"

"satoru, you're being dramatic."

"what happened?" he asks, concerned. "did this happen while I was gone?"

"it's fine, relax."

"(y/n)," satoru begins sternly. you can tell that you've pinched a nerve. "i'm about to lose it if you don't tell me how this happened and why you were trying to hide it from me."

you frown. "But-"

"Now."

you hug your arms around yourself with another meek shrug. "it's humiliating..." you murmur.

satoru softens slightly. "baby, humiliating? i'm worried about you getting hurt."

"yeah, but-" you sigh and close your eyes, your emotions suddenly getting the best of you. you hate feeling small and weak, as though you can't handle yourself, and you swear every time you injure yourself or get sick, it's the worst possible thing that could happen in the entire world. "i don't know. whatever."

"uh uh uh," your white-haired boyfriend tuts, leaning over the smooth his hand over your leg comfortingly. "it's not 'whatever.' i know exactly how you are. you can't fool me. is this about your mission tomorrow?"

"it's not just about the mission, toru, i just don't- i hate it when i can't do stuff on my own."

"you don't have to tell me something i'm already well aware of." you give him a look. "don't look at me like that. i know you like the back of my hand, and i especially know when you're uncomfortable."

"i get it, toru," you frown.

"why the attitude, hm?" he asks, leaning over to prop his elbow on the other side of you, his body resting against your lap as he peers up at you gently. "it's okay to get hurt- well, no, it's not okay for you to get hurt because it makes me wanna die, but you get what I mean."

your lips twitch in amusement momentarily, leading satoru to grin widely.

"there's that pretty smile."

"it's just-" you huff. "it was such a stupid thing... i rolled my ankle stepping down from closing the cabinets and when it started getting worse, i thought it was so dumb that something so small did that to me so i left it alone. now it's probably twisted, and i just feel really..."

"you're not weak," satoru interjects urgently. "if that's what you're saying, which i'm pretty sure you are. you're far from what i would call weak."

"still. it still made me feel weak. and i'm supposed to go on that mission tomorrow, and i don't know what the hell i'm gonna tell yaga-"

"forget the mission."

"...satoru, i can't just-"

"you can and you will. you have an injury, baby. you can't walk. it's okay, i'll talk to yaga and he'll get someone else on the assignment while I take care of you."

"but the fact that you even have to do that because i was clumsy!" you shake your head and look down. "it's so ridiculous. and i knew you were gonna worry..."

"of course i'm gonna worry, (y/n). no less than you'd worry for me."

"but you're you."

"so? do you worry for me any less because of that?"

"i mean... i know you're always gonna be fine, but... yeah, i guess."

"you guess?" satoru scoffs. "to think, my girlfriend doesn't care about me..."

"oh shut up," you nudge his head away. his grin remains, face turning back to you as he captures you in his soft gaze. "obviously I worry."

"then, there you go," satoru says. his free hand runs over your hip. "i know you can handle yourself just fine and that you're strong as hell, but whether you're going on a mission or stubbing your toe, I'm worrying 'cause i love you."

you pout slightly. "I love you too."

"i know," he beams, kissing your thigh. "so stop with that. as if you'd ever be weak for getting a little boo boo."

"yeah, but now you're not gonna let me do anything," you whine.

"is there really such a big problem with that?" satoru smirks. "try hiding an injury from me again, and you really won't be able to do anything. now let me see."

he pushes himself up to round the edge of the bed. he kneels down and cradles your foot in his hand delicately, fingers grazing the area of swelling. his brow angles. "can you move it?"

you shake your head slowly. "not without it hurting."

"in all seriousness, baby, you need to take better care of yourself. why didn't you ice it?"

"...i wanted it to go away."

"and you walked up the stairs after rolling your ankle?!"

"i wanted to get into bed!"

satoru lowers his head. "what am i gonna do with you? you're gonna give me a heart attack one of these days."

"it's really not that serious. i just need to rest it a bit and then I'll be fine-"

"i'm gonna go cook you some dinner, okay? then we can eat in bed and cuddle, and then I'll run you a hot bath later."

"satoru, i just said it's not that serious! please don't go burning down the house because of my ankle. we can literally still order food," you try to convince him, but the blue-eyed man is already on his feet, by your side, and kissing your lips.

"not another word. you're practically dying, now, i have to look after you."

"toru-"

"i'll be right back, i'm gonna grab you some ice and a pillow for your foot."

"satoru!"

but when you call him, he's already zooming out of the room and down the stairs. you sigh and plop your head back against the headboard with a soft smile. as humiliating as you find it to be injured, you can never say that gojo doesn't do everything he can, if not excessively more, to look after you when you are.

suguru geto: (cold!)

shit.

you step into the bathroom for the umpteenth time today to blow your nose, clearing your searing throat as you do so with a groan.

something in you knew this morning that you were coming down with a cold when you woke up to that dreadful scratch in the back of your throat, but the idea of getting sick physically ails you more than actually being sick does.

you're far too busy today to be weighed down by some common cold. you're in between meetings at work as you toss another tissue into the women's trash. You have paperwork to finish filling out by midnight, and you have to pick up the girls later from daycare.

how can you be sick of all things?

you know it's likely because you run yourself ragged more often than you need to, and suguru always tells you to slow down and take a breath, but you rarely listen to him. your life moves at a quick pace, constantly on the run from one task to the next, and you truly do not feel that you have the leisure of giving yourself one second to rest.

you're on the verge of earning a new promotion, and you need the money. you need the opportunities, and the accomplishments to care for the family you've built with geto. just as suguru works tirelessly to manage his cult, you work tirelessly to keep a living for yourself.

you're proud of the work you have done, truly you are, but at times it feels as though you are amounting to nothing, chasing promises of a higher position that have yet to come. despite the haziness of the path ahead, you push harder and harder each day.

suguru hates it, how you drive yourself to the brink of insanity day in and day out, but you can't help but be an overachiever. you can't help but work hard for those who may not even deserve it.

and now, of course, you're sick. you can feel your temperature spiking, your nose is stuffy, and your head is pounding. you want to go home and curl into bed, but you have responsibilities to fulfill. just a few more hours... then you're home with geto, with the girls, safe in bed just to wake up and do it all over again tomorrow.

you jump when your phone suddenly rings in your pocket. you pull it out to see your boyfriend's contact, and you straighten yourself up as best as you can to make it sound as though you aren't struggling to breathe through your nostrils.

"hello?"

"hey, babe, how's work going?" suguru's soothing voice echoes through the phone and you sigh, clinging to the comfort his tone provides. you miss him. you want to go home already.

"it's good," you lie. "i have a few more meetings. then some paperwork to finish, but I'll be able to get mimi and nana on time."

"actually, i called to tell you not to worry about that. i got finished up here with the group pretty early, so i'll be able to get them later."

you're relieved that you won't have to expose the girls to your germs in the car. "okay, thanks for letting me know. you need me to pick up some food on the way home?"

"no, we're gonna make pizzas later. the girls have been dying to try it making it from scratch forever, so i'll take them to the store once i get them."

"...oh. okay..." you nod. "there's nothing else you need me to do then?"

"just to come home in one piece," suguru says. "i'm trying to take some stuff off your plate, (y/n). you've been exhausted, and you can't tell me otherwise."

"sugu, I'm fine," you dismiss him, only to turn your head into your elbow to muffle a cough. you forget to mute the call when you do so.

"what was that? are you okay?" the dark-haired man questions quickly. "you're not sick, are you?"

"no, no," you deny fast, voice slightly hoarse. you clear your throat quickly. "something was just- stuck in my throat. but I'm fine. i'm not sick."

suguru's quiet for a moment, and you chew on the inside of your lip while you wait for him to respond. you know it's impossible to fool suguru, especially when it comes to matters regarding you or the girls, but you can't handle him worrying over you right now. his concerns would only bring you back to reality, pulling you from this cycle of overworking you've fallen into. you need to keep going. You can't stop, and if suguru knows you're sick, he will make you stop.

"suguru? you there?" you finally say.

"oh yeah, i'm here," he responds rather quickly, and you internally curse yourself. "what time do you get off?"

"uhhh..." you think about it for a moment. it's 3:30 now, and technically you only have an hour and a half left, but since the girls will be picked up by Suguru, you realize you can finish your paperwork in the office. "today's kind of a long day... so I probably won't be home until... 7?"

"(Y/n)."

"i know, i know, but listen, i just have to finish up this paperwork. that's all."

"weren't you just gonna do it at home?"

"well, yeah, but since you're getting the girls, it's kinda easier for me to finish it here..." you start mumbling lowly, knowing that whatever explanation you give is not one that suguru will willingly accept.

"babe, please just come home at a normal time today. you can't keep doing this to yourself."

"i promise it won't be past 7. i swear. just let me get this done, and I'll be home."

suguru releases a hefty sigh, and you can picture him rubbing his thumb against his forehead in stress. "7 o'clock, (y/n). i mean it. if you're so much as five minutes late, i'm coming over there myself with rainbow dragon."

you chuckle softly. "i promise it won't get to that. i'll be fine, alright? i'll text you when I'm headed out."

"okay. I'll see you in a bit."

after your meetings had ended, your cold symptoms grew worse. your coughs were more frequent, a pile of tissues were stacked at your cubicle, and the glare of your computer screen felt as though it was burning a hole into your already aching head.

you feel miserable, and as luck would have it, your boss placed a new stack of papers onto your desk to finish filling out before you went home on his way out of the door.

you're alone in the office now, surrounded by excess assignments, and you can hardly breathe through your nose. you check the time, and its thirty to the time you told suguru you'd be home. you groan, rubbing your hands over your face.

you're tired. your bones are aching. you want to be with the girls, you want to be home, you don't want to do this anymore. you're so burned out, it hurts, and you want to cry and collapse face-first onto your desk at the same time.

just then, your phone lights up with a message from suguru. you open it eagerly to be greeted with an image of the girls beaming up at the camera in the kitchen, hands covered in tomato sauce as they display them to the phone. beneath the photo, suguru types.

we miss you :(

you break, placing your phone down and shielding your face in your hands as the tears flow. god, you miss spending time with them. you're hardly home anymore because you've been so busy with work, and you're yearning to be held by your boyfriend, to hear the girls laugh, to sink into the bed combined with your deteriorating physical state makes you feel worse.

you miss having a life.

you don't know how long you spend crying in your empty office before your body shuts down on you completely. the energy you exerted shedding tears in addition to your long days at work send you into a deep sleep. before you know it, you're knocked out with your cheek pressed against one of your unfinished papers.

the second you failed to answer Suguru's text, he knew something was wrong. he calls, and calls, and calls after twenty minutes, but you don't answer. He wastes absolutely no time in calling up manami to look after the girls before trekking out of the house to you with rainbow dragon, just as he promised.

he's prepared to break a window when he sees the janitor leaving the building. he takes the opportunity to swoop in through the doors after grumbling something about his girlfriend being inside, before making his way up to you.

when he reaches your office, he finds you lying in the only occupied cubicle. His eyes go wide as he studies your slumped figure, walking slowly to where you're seated. he notes the tissues and cough drop wrappers crowding your space, then the tears that coat your lashes when he kneels down.

"jesus, (y/n)," he murmurs, swiftly getting to work and clearing your desk of all your trash. when he's done, he crouches by you again and runs a hand over your back. "baby, wake up for me. come on," he coaxes softly.

you stir, face tightening in discomfort. suguru sees the bags under your eyes and his frown deepens. Eventually, you wake with furrowed brows, adjusting your blurry eyes to the sight of suguru gazing down at you worriedly.

"sugu...?" you mumble weakly, only to be interrupted by a few coughs that rack your chest. suguru's heart aches.

"i knew it," he sighs, eyes hardening as his hand strokes over your warm forehead. "why don't you listen?"

"what are you doing here?" you grumble, picking your head up slowly. you're greeted with a retched reminder of your headache, and you wince, pressing your hand to your head.

"we had an agreement, remember?" he reminds you, and you slowly recall. you move to grab your phone and the time reads 7:15. "i wasn't joking."

"suguru..."

"stop," he immediately cuts you off. "look at you, (y/n). you've made yourself sick."

"it's just a- a cough," you murmur, rubbing your irritated eyes harshly.

"that's bullshit, baby," he tells you rather firmly. "i don't know why you're trying to hide this from me when i knew something like this would happen. we're going home."

"no, wait, Suguru, i didn't finish my paperwork yet."

"do you think I give two shits about your paperwork?"

his tone comes off rather harshly, and both of you notice. he blinks his eyes tensely and readjusts himself, attempting to reel in his anger. his anger for you, over your lack of care for your wellbeing, at your fucking boss for letting you work yourself like this.

"you've been killing yourself for weeks, (y/n). i won't let you anymore. this is the last straw."

"hold on," you urge. suguru looks down at you, befuddled. "i really can't just up and leave my work behind like this. I'm sorry, I can't."

"what's more important to you, (y/n)? being healthy or working yourself to death?" he proposes, almost pained by the latter. "if you cared about your well-being, you would have asked for an extension or at least had a conversation with your dick of a boss about doing this another time. anyone can see that you aren't feeling well, and someone who cares will tell you that enough is enough."

"don't make me do this, suguru," you whimper. suguru's face relaxes when he sees your eyes glossing over. "don't make me stop. I can't stop."

"baby," he curls his brows, holding your cheek in his hand as he kneels before you. "why are you doing this to yourself?"

"b-because, I have to..."

"no, you don't. i've been telling you this for years, you don't have to do this."

"but I need to make something of myself. i have to keep going. i can't just quit, because if I do, then what will any of this have meant? why have i been doing this?"

"you're breaking my heart, baby," suguru exhales. "this job doesn't define you. i see how hardworking, smart, and strong you are. i see the effort you put into everything you do. i see the commitment in your heart. i see it everywhere, all the time, and that is one of many reasons why i love you so much."

your lips wobble as you look into his hazel eyes as his voice and words melt you into his palm. you've been moving so fast all this time, you've been trying to prevent yourself from falling into suguru's warmth, which has always had the power to make you do anything he says.

"but I can't stand to watch you make yourself sick because you think there's more you need to do. this isn't good for you. you know it isn't."

you nod, red nose flaring as you sniff. "i know," you admit.

"so please, please take a break. i'm literally begging you. you need to come home and rest. i'll take care of everything else, just come home. lay down. come back to us. to me."

your shoulders jerk as a few tears drop from your eyes. "sugu, i can't do this anymore," you finally give in. "i don't even feel like myself. i just want to go home."

"then let's go baby, come on," he stands and takes you with him in his arms, pressing your body to his as he holds you. you sink into him, your exhaustion and your sickness finally crashing down over you. "i'm gonna fucking kill your boss," he murmurs into your hair.

you laugh weakly against him, closing your eyes. "later. just take me home, now. please."

"yes ma'am," he nods, kneeling down to pick you up into his arms. you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into his chest.

"m'gonna get you sick," you mutter.

"we can be sick together," he chuckles. "the girls and I can make you some soup. they've been obsessed with cooking lately," he says, leaning over to shut off your monitor before carrying you off to the elevators.

"that picture of them you sent earlier made me so sad. I miss you guys so much."

"i'm sorry baby, i didn't mean to upset you that much. i was only trying to guilt you a little into coming home early."

you slap his shoulder pathetically. "asshole."

"i know, i'm sorry," he kisses your head. "gonna get you all better in no time."

kento nanami: (low iron!)

you have always been a little anemic, and of course that never really posed as a terrible challenge for you until you ran out of iron supplements.

it is your responsibility undoubtedly to keep track of when you run out and when you need to restock, but recently, you've found yourself neglecting the habit.

you never did like taking iron pills, or any supplements for that matter. you feel as though they take too much out of your daily life, as though they're a burden to your existence, and the harder you think about it, the less inclined you are to keep track of it.

it's been about three weeks since you last took your iron, and while you would like to say that you have improved significantly, you would be lying.

perhaps the first few days of not taking your supplements was fine, but as time droned on, the symptoms kicked back in rather quickly. you are extremely tired all the time, you feel lighter on your feet as if you are going to pass out at any given moment, and your hands and feet are ridiculously cold though it is now the summertime, and the weather outside thoroughly contrasts your body temperature.

you're in denial about the changes, of course. you want to be able to feel fine without the crutch of your pills, but the reality of the situation is that you don't, and it's crushing you for some reason.

what's crushing you more is that you know how disappointed nanami will be to find out that you haven't been being responsible in stocking up on your supplements. he would normally keep track of when you run out in addition to you, but he's reeled it in a bit over the past few months because you wanted him to trust that you can handle taking care of something that you've managed all of your life, so he did.

and yet, here you are, trying to hide the symptoms of your iron deficiency that are only proving harder to veil. nanami has already asked you a few times if you are feeling okay over the past few weeks, therefore you know that he suspects exactly what is happening, but you brush him off each time.

"i'm good, honey," you'd tell him. "just had a long day. what about you? how are you feeling?"

you feel like shit lying to him, but you're afraid of being truthful for some reason. he would scold you, and you'd have to resort to the aid of your only weakness all over again.

god, why can't you just be normal?

you've even tried to ween off of the strict iron-sufficient diet that you've been on practically all your life because you feel like you have something to prove, especially in this world of jujutsu. how can you be a sorcerer with low iron? how can something so smell render you so weak? it's pathetic.

you don't want to think about it, in truth. you want it all to just go away. you want to be fine, to feel fine without eating certain things constantly or taking those damn pills, and you try to force yourself to, but it only grows worse the longer you hide it.

you stumble into your home after a long day of teaching and press your back to the door with a sigh. you know nanami won't be home for another forty or so minutes, so you kick your shoes off, go grab a water, and plop down on the couch.

you feel so tired. you pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes, leaning back. this is stupid, you think. you're being stupid. just reorder the damn pills.

but something stubborn within you refuses. something within you that must prove you can push past this.

you decide to watch some tv to distract you as you wait for nanami to return home. he suggested cooking for you tonight, so you rest until you hear him walking through the door.

"hi honey," he greets. you turn to smile gently at him as he rounds the corner. your cheeks pinch with happiness, your current turmoil momentarily forgotten when you see your husband approach. you go to stand and walk into his open arms, just like you normally do when he comes home.

you put the remote to the side and shoot up. your mind is occupied only by nanami as you move toward him, but you see his face drop and your vision turns upside down, and suddenly, you're falling.

kento is quick to react, ducking down impressively to catch you in his arms before you can hit the ground. you collapse into him, head dizzy and breath suddenly gone.

"sweetheart?! (y/n) are you alright? are you awake?"

you groan, shifting in his strong arms as they cradle you securely. when your vision regains focus, you're staring up at nanami's worried face, your body resting over his lap. you blink rapidly before realizing what just happened.

"oh shit," you whisper.

"(y/n)," nanami says your name again, caressing your cheek sweetly. "are you here with me now?"

"y-yeah," you nod, moving to sit up and press your hand to his chest. "i'm alright."

"absolutely not," he stops you immediately, pressing against you to lay you back down on his lip. you frown, looking up at him. "don't even try sitting up like that right now."

"kento," you start, growing worried by the tense look on his face. "i'm okay, really. i just sat up too fast."

"i know," he affirms, his thumb still smoothing over your skin. "and care to tell me why that alone is making you pass out?"

you can't find the words to respond as you stare at him, likely as guiltily as you feel. he hums knowingly.

"right," he sighs. "(y/n), how long has it been since you've taken your iron?"

and there it is. the very question you had been dreading.

"...i'm not sure what you're-"

"don't. really, don't," he interjects firmly and you shiver, rather unfamiliar with this side of your doting partner. "i'm still trying to adjust to the fact that you haven't been truthful with me. the least you can do is tell me how long it's been."

your heart drops. "kento..."

"i'm not in the mood for stalling, sweetheart. go on. out with it."

the sternness of his voice hardly matches the way he is holding you and stroking your cheek, but nevertheless, you feel awful. you avert your gaze and shrink into yourself. "three weeks."

"three?" he repeats incredulously, and you nod in shame. "i knew it had been over a week, but three, (y/n)?"

"i know," you mutter.

"why? after you told me not to check after you, to trust that you'd take care of yourself," nanami questions. "this is why i tried to help you. i know it can be a hassle sometimes, and forgetting is one thing, but to deliberately stop taking them when you know how much i worry about it... when you know how important it is for you?"

you bite hard on your lip and look away, brows curling. nanami notices immediately and softens himself, leaning down closer to you.

"my love," he starts. "i don't mean to upset you, but this is very upsetting to me."

"i know. i know, i'm sorry..." you whimper.

"but not because it's about me, (y/n), because it's about you. and you've been hiding this from me, of all things. i don't understand."

"i just didn't wanna take them anymore, ken," you say quietly.

the blonde furrows his brows. "you didn't want to take them? have you not been taking them for years?"

"i have but that's the problem. i'm a sorcerer now, and..." you exhale. "the point of being a sorcerer is to not have anything weighing you down, and this weighs me down."

"if anything, (y/n), not taking the supplements weighs you down more."

"no, i just mean- all of it, the whole iron deficiency, i hate it," you confess. "i'm tired of relying on something to be strong. i'm tired of being tied down to this. i wanted to see if i could overcome it, but i can't. i'll always have this problem, and it sucks, ken," you ramble. "if i could go without taking these pills and still do my job like i always have, then just maybe.... maybe i could be better. and i could prove that i... i don't need those stupid pills, or the extra greens, or the- whatever. just all of it."

nanami looks down at you rather sadly. "i had no idea you felt this way."

"i haven't always felt this way. it's just lately, i don't know, i feel pressured to go beyond."

"darling, your iron-deficiency doesn't make you any less talented than other sorcerers."

"i know. i mean, i should know, but i can't help but feel that way."

nanami presses his lips together, smoothing a knuckle over your cheekbone. "i'm sorry you feel like this."

"it's not your fault, ken. and i shouldn't have kept this from you, i know. i'm sorry. i just felt humiliated by it."

"there's nothing for you to be humiliated by," he reassures you. "your deficiency is no different from any of us having to feed ourselves or drink water in between missions to keep ourselves alive. it's a necessity, and though we are sorcerers, we live off of necessities to keep ourselves physically and mentally able to work. you have a responsibility to yourself. just like the rest of us. just because your iron's a little lower doesn't mean anything about who you are as a sorcerer."

"...i never thought of it like that. i've just been thinking of it as a burden."

"it's only a burden if you view it that way. you are a grade one sorcerer who i have watched climb the ranks effortlessly since we were in high school, all the while with an iron deficiency that you have always taken supplements for. that never stopped you," he says. "the problem comes in when you don't keep up with yourself and take care of those needs. just like how i'd be unable to work if i decided to skip my last few meals and drink less water."

"that makes sense," you mumble, capturing his soft brown eyes with yours.

"good," he nods. "(y/n) you can't neglect your needs like this."

"i know."

"i'm being serious. i'll start checking behind you again if i find out that you're not doing what you need to do to take care of your body."

"i know, ken, i'm sorry, i-" you stop yourself and shake your head. "i just let my insecurities get the best of me."

"then, let me handle taking care of your insecurities. you handle taking your supplements. do we have an agreement?"

you nod slowly. "yeah. we do. i'm sorry for lying again, ken."

"please don't do it again," he sighs, ducking to kiss your forehead. "but i know you wouldn't lie to me about anything else, and that you hiding this was solely out of fear."

you slowly move to sit up, and this time, kento helps you very gradually. he guides you back to sit on the couch and cups your face gently, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "i'll go order some more iron and then get started on dinner. alright?"

you hum with a soft smile. "alright. i love you, ken."

he returns your loving smile. "i love you more, sweetheart."

choso kamo: (broken finger!)

it had fully been an accident.

you should have been paying more attention to what you were doing and at the same time, so should have panda.

it really was an honest mistake. you were standing in the doorway as everyone left the classroom, your fingers clutched around the frame as everyone filed out. you were asking around if anyone had seen your boyfriend, and yuta mentioned that he saw him with yuji earlier that day.

you thanked him, and just as you were about to pull your hand away, panda, who was the last out of the room, slammed the door shut behind him thinking you had already moved out of the way.

but you hadn't.

the door flew into your index and middle fingers and you screamed bloody murder. the cursed corpse as well as his classmates whipped their heads around, and to panda's horror, you were knocking your forehead against the wall with tears in your eyes as your fingers trembled in the doorframe.

"(Y/N), HOLY SHIT I'M SO SORRY!"

you hadn't expected panda to actually break one of your fingers, but you give the freak credit for his unnatural strength. you later find out that yuji and choso had gone out to grab food for you when you see a text from your boyfriend pop up asking what flavor ramen you want the second you learn that shoko will not be available until late tonight.

for the time being, you're given a finger splint and pain medicine as though you aren't freaking surrounded by jujutsu sorcery.

and god, did it hurt! like, really, really hurt. your fingers are throbbing, and the one that isn't broken is bruised and stained with some blood. you wish you could be angrier at panda, but his groveling before your feet on his knees eases your frustration a bit. after all, it hadn't been on purpose.

you're sent home and you are given no choice but to wait until choso returns, and you're... nervous. choso never handles the ailment of his loved ones very well. his spiritual and physical connection to his brothers wellbeings' often causes him to lose his mind every time yuji gets accidentally punched in the face during training, and when it comes to you? well, choso is just the same if not somehow worse.

you remember one time you got a papercut and winced when your finger made contact with soap. choso was quick to your side, grasping your wrist and looking over your hand as though it had been severed off.

one thing you have come to know in your relationship with the brunette is that he would (and has) killed someone for the sake of the people closest to him. he does not mess around when it comes to his family, and he certainly doesn't mess around when it comes to you.

and while you think he can be a bit excessive with making sure you're alright when it's hardly necessary, it's first and foremost endearing, and it only makes you realize that he will go ballistic the second he finds out that someone broke your finger.

he doesn't naively think that you can never go unharmed, though he would be incredibly content with the notion if it were plausible. he's familiar with scars, wounds, fights, and battles, and he knows you're in the very center of it just as much as he and his brother are. but still, he hates it when you're hurt. he wants to protect you as best as he can, or to at least prevent you from suffering any more than a sorcerer already has to suffer. he only wants you to be safe.

so to prevent him from having a heart attack, you decide it's better if he doesn't know about the incident. when you answer his texts before heading home, you mention nothing about your poor finger in hopes of him not finding out at least until after you're healed.

that plan of yours, however, fails when choso comes barging through the door three hours earlier than you expected him to return. your eyes go wide from where you sit on the couch, and you have no time to even go to hide your fingers behind your back when choso marches up to you, agitated.

"uh-" you're cut off when he grabs your arm gently and lifts it into the air, your taped crooked finger showcasing itself to him. you press your lips together at how poorly the plan to conceal this from him has failed. "cho-"

"were you gonna tell me about this?" his violet eyes fly to yours in a fury, and you're almost stunned by how aggravated he looks. his voice is calm, low, but his face is wrecked with concern and almost betrayal.

"...i was, but i wanted to wait because i didn't want you to freak out..." you say slowly, watching him softly. "like you are now..?"

"that's not fair, (y/n)," he frowns and you furrow your brows. "that's not fair at all."

"woah, hold on... are you mad at me?"

"i don't know," he answers you honestly, looking between your face and your trembling hand. "i'm... upset."

"who told you about my fingers, love?"

"yuji got a text from yuta," he tells you, moving to sit down on the space beside you with your hand still cradled in his. "he said that panda was begging me not to kill him, and this was after i had talked to you."

"oh..." you sigh. "okay, yeah, i can see how that looks."

"why didn't you tell me you got hurt? and pretty badly too? where's ieiri?"

"she won't be back on campus for another hour," you explain. "i didn't want you to worry, cho, i figured i'd just tell you after it was better, but..."

"why would you try to hide something from me?" he asks you, suddenly sounding hurt. it's clear on his face that he doesn't understand why you would conceal something as important as your health from him, whether it was small or not. you tell each other everything, and that shouldn't have stopped now of all times because you don't want him to worry.

"i didn't know you'd get so upset, cho, honestly," you tell him. "i-" you stop when a sharp pain shoots through your fingers and you gasp. choso's face drops and he gently sets your hand down to his lap, panicked.

"i'm sorry," he apologizes. "shit, you must be in a lot of pain."

"it's nothing i haven't experienced before," you try to reassure him, giving him a tight smile.

"why does that matter?" choso drags his brows together. "pain is pain. i don't like when you feel any of it."

you melt. "i know. i know you don't, i don't like when you feel any of it either."

"so don't... keep stuff like this from me, (y/n)," he says sternly. "please, i need to know. i don't have the same connection to you that i have with my blood brothers, but i'm still connected to you all the same. when you hurt, i hurt."

"i get it cho, i'm sorry," you nod bashfully. "i wasn't trying to make you mad. i just don't like it when you're stressed out."

"i'm always stressed out," he says flatly, and you raise your brows with a halfhearted smile.

"yeah, i know. so why stress you even more?"

"i'd rather be stressed about you if i'm stressing about anything," he says, looking over your face as the hardness in his gaze washes away. "you know you're everything to me."

"i know, baby," you push out your bottom lip, pressing your free hand to the side of his cheek and leaning in to kiss him. his ears burn when you pull away, and he sighs heavily.

"don't offend me by trying to hide stuff like this. it won't work."

"i'm sorryyyy," you giggle and choso grumbles incoherently under his breath.

his gaze goes back to your fingers and his brows curl. "how the hell do you slam a door on someone's hand?" he hisses.

"it was an accident, cho, he didn't mean it."

"i know, and i shouldn't really be angry at him but i can't help but be irritated because you're hurt..." his fingers graze the tape. "how bad does it hurt?"

"cho, it'll be okay."

"that wasn't my question."

you roll your eyes at his attitude with a soft smile. "it hurts as much as a broken finger would."

"right. sorry," he murmurs.

"you're okay, love, you don't need to apologize."

"i still wish i- nevermind," he refrains himself from discussing how he wanted to be there to protect you from such an unpredictable occurence. "is there anything i can do to help you feel better while we wait? do you need anything?"

"ummm," you try to think. "actually, could you grab a new pack of ice from the freezer? and... the snacks you got me earlier."

the brunette's face brightens slightly with the thought that he can do something to help ease your pain as you wait for shoko to return to the school.

he nods in determination, carefully sliding your hand into your lap and kissing your cheek before hopping up to run to the kitchen. he returns with the items you requested, placing the snacks down beside him and lifting the bag of ice over your hand.

"like this?" he eases the bag down and you wince, nodding.

"mhm. yeah," you strain out. choso watches your face sadly, hating the fact that you're hurting.

"i'm sorry for getting upset," he mumbles. you turn to look at him curiously. "i just love you a lot."

"i love you more, cho," you smile gently, leaning your head against his shoulder. he sighs, resting his chin atop your head as he ices your hand. "and don't worry, i get it. i won't try to hide injuries from you anymore."

"i really hope so."

"now can you pass me those chips please?"

toji fushiguro: (knife cut!)

toji is going to absolutely kill you, and you are dreading the moment he does.

he has always told you not to touch his weapons. even if you see any of them lying around his place because he never bothers to clean up in between jobs. his one rule when you're over is to leave them alone and to let him handle them when he gets back. he doesn't care how much you protest, he doesn't care that you want to help him pick up after himself.

no touching. that is all he asks of you.

and of course... one afternoon when he's out sorting out some finances with shiu and one of his knives is glaring at you from where it lay on the kitchen table, you can't help yourself.

you don't really think anything is going to happen. after all, you're not a baby, nor are you an idiot. you know how to handle a freaking knife and you know where to put it, and yet, somehow, you allow your arrogance with the task to distract you. you're not handling it as carefully as you should be, and the second you hear the keys jingling outside the front door, you panic.

the blade, naturally, fumbles in your grasp, and swipes through the air, over your palm, and to the carpet. you jump, stepping away as quickly as it falls. you feel a sting in your hand and look down to see the fresh gash stretching over your skin. you gape as blood slowly simmers from the wound, befuddled as to how something like this even happened so quickly.

you have no time to clean it when you hear the key inside the lock. you hurriedly pick up the knife with your unwounded hand, place it back on the table where you first saw it, rip a napkin from said table to press to your bleeding palm, and clench it into a fist just as the door opens.

toji immediately greets you with a raised brow, jade eyes eying you oddly as he steps in. "the hell are you gettin' into?" he asks, confused by the way you are standing against the wall when he enters.

you're quick to move into his space to distract him from the vision of his knife and from looking any further downward from your face. you lean up on your tiptoes, normal hand on his forearm as you kiss his scarred lips. "what do you mean?"

"why were you just standing there like that?"

"can't I wait by the door for you to come back?" you bat your eyelashes, and toji grunts, gazing down at you with lidded eyes as his hand comes around the small of your back. "i'm just happy to see you."

"you take a pill or somethin', doll?"

you glare at him. "now why would you ask me that?"

"you're just acting a little too nice, that's all."

you scoff. "i don't know what you're talking about, i'm literally always happy to see you."

"yeah, but i was gone for thirty minutes and you never make a show of it like this."

"why are you making it sound like i don't show you love? you're the one who's mean all the time," you retort sassily.

a smirk captures toji's lips as he ducks down to kiss you again. "that's more like it," he murmurs against you. "still ain't answer my question though."

"i literally did. i told you i was waiting for you."

"sure," he says, unconvinced. his eyes drag down your body and momentarily go to your fist when you swiftly wrap both arms around his neck, pulling him down to crash your lips into him once more.

his brows narrow and as you kiss him, and you can feel the blood on your hand seeping through your napkin. you curse internally, lowering your hand back down behind him as he pulls away.

"not that i'm against this," toji starts, voice dangerously low against your mouth. "but it feels like you're tryin' to distract me from something."

"why would i be doing that?" you ask gently, looking up into his piercing eyes. he hums, dragging himself away from you. he grabs your chin softly and tilts your head left and right, looking over your face. "what are you doing?" you ask.

"lookin' for whatever you're hiding."

"i'm not hiding anything, toji."

"uh huh."

shit. it's never a good sign when toji doesn't even try to pretend to believe anything you're saying, and the way he's looking over your face let's you know that he at least suspects you've done something to yourself that he should know about.

you keep your fist to his back as he looks over the rest of your body with a rather relaxed expression, which only means that he doesn't suspect you touching any of his weapons. yet.

you have to keep his attention away from the knife on the table so that he doesn't figure it out.

"can you stop messing around already? i wanna go take a shower," you try to say, but toji doesn't listen.

"turn around f'me."

"huh?"

"huh?" he mimics you, looking at you unimpressed. "turn."

you suck your teeth. "i hate when you get like this."

"and i hate when you lie, now turn."

you grimance. you can't turn around with him looking down at your hand, and you're sure by now that the napkin you hold is coated red. your eye twitches in that moment when you feel a line of blood drip down your wrist.

god dammit. you're so dead.

nonetheless, you try to keep your palm facing inward as you slip it from his back and turn over your left shoulder, which connects to the uninjured hand. the second your back is to him, you bring your bloody hand in front of you.

"yeah, no," you hear toji gruffly say. your heart hammers in your throat and you know what's coming next. he moves around you to wrap his hand around your wrist and tug at it.

you cringe, allowing yourself to accept your fate when he pulls forward your balled up hand.

"open."

"can't we just-"

"open."

you sigh heavily, slowly peeling open your palm to reveal the red-stained napkin balled in it, the line of blood rushing down your inner arm, and the slice that stretches across your hand.

toji's eyes blow wide, and before he asks you anything, he throws his head over his shoulder to locate the knife that sits on the table. "are you fucking kidding me, (y/n)?" he growls, turning back to face you angrily.

"okay, let's not act like this is so crazy!" you immediately defend, throwing your other arm up. "you leave your shit lying around all the time!"

"and every single time, i tell you that i'll take care of it. what the fuck, do i have to go child-proofing the house now because of you?"

"if you would just be more mindful of how you leave your space, you wouldn't even have to worry about shit like this! you shouldn't even have knives lying around in the first place."

"i'm a grown man, (y/n), i know how to avoid cutting myself with the weapons i use daily."

"you're being a prick."

"oh baby, you must not know me because i'm about to be worse," he grunts, eyes heated with fury, and you frown.

"toji, come onnn, it was an accident."

"what do i always say about my weapons, (y/n)?"

"i just wanted to help you put it away, is that so crazy?"

"what. do i say. about my weapons."

you deflate slightly, uneased by the rate at which toji is growing angry with you. "...not to touch them."

"so why the fuck did you touch them?" he growls, picking up the napkin in your palm and tossing it over his shoulder. he looks over your wound and clenches his jaw. "fucking hell, (y/n)."

"look, i'm sorry."

"shut the hell up and come on."

despite his rage, he leads you to the bathoom with surprising care.

when you arrive, he flicks on the light with his free hand and swipes up a cloth from under the sink. he turns to you, pressing it down to your wound to stop the bleeding. once it seems like it's done, he puts the cloth down and turns on the faucet. "put your hand under," he orders, guiding it to the cool water nonetheless.

the water hits your open wound bitterly and you jump, watching the blood run through the drain as toji washes your arm as well.

"sit," he nods over to the bathtub, shutting off the faucet.

you oblige mutely, shuffling over and holding out your hand. you sit slowly on the ledge of the tub and watch as toji shuffles through his cupboards for a bottle of peroxide, some bandages, and ointment. you dread what is coming, for you know your hand is gonna sting like a bitch.

toji thuds over to sit hunched on the closed toilet lid, leaning over to grab your hand again. you stretch your fingers out and he sighs, shaking his head. "so fucking hard-headed," he murmurs.

you watch him screw open the bottle of liquid.

"go slowly," you plead.

"it's gonna hurt all the same, doll," he tells you, and you pout. "you should listen next time, then maybe you wouldn't have to go through this."

"shut the fuck up."

toji clicks his tongue, glancing at you momentarily before leaning down and holding the bottle over you, grasping your wrist loosely with your hand above his knee. "keep still."

the peroxide comes flooding out of the bottle and onto your hand, bubbling instantly over your gash. you whimper, tensing your body and scrunching your eyes at the sting.

"i know," toji mumbles, smoothing his thumb gently over your wrist. "you're alright."

your fingers dig into your thigh as it continues to burn. toji leans over to put down the bottle and continues to caress your arm, lowering your hand to his lap. he blows over your palm slightly as the peroxide dries, and you eventually open your eyes.

"not so bad," he tells you. he leans himself back to reach for a new cloth then pats it around the gash, drying your hand and your arm. he reaches back again for the tube of almost empty ointment he found and twists it open, squeezing it over your wound. "shit, hold on," he stops. he lets you lift your hand as he rushes to wash his own before coming to sit back down at hold yours on his leg again, now with bandages in hand.

you watch him gently as he works the bandage over you with such attentiveness, a dip in his brow proving his focus. you suddenly feel guilty for making him worry.

"i'm sorry," you finally say again, this time with more meaning.

toji's green eyes snap up at you amidst his wrapping. "yeah?"

"i really was just trying to help you. didn't mean to stress you out."

toji sighs, pausing his movements to look you in the eye. "you need to be more careful. i tell you not to touch my stuff because it's not your responsibility. obviously i know you can yourself, but some of my shit's really dangerous and i don't want you gettin' hurt," he gestures to your hand. "it could've been a lot worse, but still."

"if you don't want me touching your weapons, toji, you should probably clean them up more," you quirk a brow and he exhales loudly.

"i'm seeing that now, yeah," he says. "i'll be more careful if you are. don't need my doll getting a bunch of scars 'cause of me, now."

you smile softly. "yeah. i won't touch your stuff anymore, i promise."

"...how about instead i just... teach you how to handle 'em the right way?"

you perk up. "really?"

"i don't see why not. i'd rather you know how to use some of it than see you scrape yourself up because you don't know how to hold a knife."

"don't be a smartass."

toji smirks, continuing with his wrapping of your hand. "i mean it. i'll sit down with you sometime to show you."

"...how about after we're done here?"

"don't fucking push it."

ryomen sukuna: (fever!)

you wake up in a cold sweat, shivering.

you groan in displeasure, rolling over, slightly discombobulated. it can't be any later than 7 am, but you are boiling hot. you press your hand to your forehead and curse. you're sweating profusely and you feel incredibly lightheaded.

you don't even have the energy to get up, but you know that you need to take your temperature. you shudder, carefully shuffling out of bed and wincing as every brush against your skin feels like the stab of a thousand pins and needles.

you lethargically make your way to your bathroom, the cool air hitting your neck and sending you into a fit of shivers. you cling to yourself, teeth chattering, and reach into your cabinet for a thermometer. with half-open eyes, you pop it under your tongue and make your way back to your bed, bundling up in your blankets and curling into a ball.

it feels like hours before the beep resounds, and you slowly lift it from your mouth to read the little digital numbers.

102.4. perfect.

you shudder in pain, tossing the thermometer to the side and nestling your face in your pillows. you feel like absolute shit, but you can't bring yourself to do much else. you need medicine, water, a cool compress, but none of those things you have access to currently.

you close your eyes as your mind swarms, body throbbing and shuddering with chills though the last thing you need is to be cuddled under the covers. you think maybe it will go away if you get some rest. maybe you just need to relax, to take some time in bed. you'll let sukuna know when-

shit! sukuna.

there's no way in hell or on earth that sukuna will allow you to go untreated if you tell him, but god, you don't feel like letting him know. despite his likely haste to make sure you have everything you need, you can only imagine the snarky comments about your fragility, your strange body, your vulnerability that he''ll spout.

you don't want to hear it. you don't want to hear any of it, because you're sure that if you do, you'll start crying. you're already worn down, clearly, and the last thing you need on top of a fever is your boyfriend joking about your weak state.

you elect to stay in bed and tell sukuna you'll see him another time if he pesters you today.

which of course, he does.

a whirlwind of alarming dreams that you almost thought were hallucinations are disrupted by the persistent buzzing of your phone on your dress. you groan, reaching out a shaky hand to blindly grab the device and answer the call, pressing it to your ear with no knowledge of who you're speaking to.

"yes?" you croak.

"can't answer a telephone call the first time it rings?" sukuna's voice thunders through the mic, and you lift your brows.

"kuna?" you try to say his name normally, despite the constant chatter of your teeth.

"who the hell else would it be?"

"sorry... i was asleep."

"at this hour?"

"...what'dy'mean?"

"jesus, woman, it's 2 in the afternoon. why the hell are you still in bed?"

you reel momentarily at his words. 2 pm? it was just 7 in the morning! have you really been sleeping all this time?

"oh..." is all you can manage to say before a chill wracks your body again. you cringe, curling into yourself and holding the phone away from you.

"oh?" the king of curses repeats. "what is the matter with you?"

"n-nothing," you respond quickly. "i guess i was up late last night. i was c-completely knocked out..." you tremble.

"last night you told me you were going to sleep early because you were tired, you brat."

fuckkkk.

how could you have forgotten about that? you hadn't been feeling well last night, which is likely the reason why you feel so much worse today, so you turned in early. "i- couldn't fall asleep until later, though," you mumble.

"you are attempting to deceive me," sukuna grunts. "care to explain why?"

"m'not, kuna," you sigh halfheartedly.

"what exactly do you take me for?"

you're really not in the mood for this. you're aching at this point, and you can tell your body temperature has only risen. you're so weak. you can barely even process the fact that you're on the phone, and you can't handle sukuna's attitude. not if he's not going to help, which you automatically assume that he won't.

"i'm going back to bed," you say softly.

"what do you mean back to bed?!" sukuna fumes. "seriously, what the hell is the matter with you. you sound ill."

"i'm not i-ill."

"then why do you keep stumbling over your words, woman?" he questions, his voice mellowing out into a steady intensity. "what is it now? your monthly plague? whatever you people call allergies?"

this is exactly why you don't want him to know. he handles these things too crudely, as if it's a burden upon his existence. "y-you ask too many damn questions."

"i wouldn't have to if you answered them. now talk."

"i'm fine, sukuna. i'm just gonna go back to sleep."

"you hang up this phone, i'm at your door in two seconds."

"that's impossible."

"try me."

you know he's serious, but you don't have the energy. you can't stay on the phone with him any longer, trying to speak like nothing's wrong. it's cold. so cold, but you're so hot. you're probably drenched in a pool of your own sweat, but you can't feel it. you want to sleep. you just want him to let you sleep.

your vision grows dizzy as you stare ahead, brows arching in discomfort. you think you press the end call button, but you can still hear his voice picking up in urgency... is he shouting? are you even on the phone anymore? you aren't sure.

your vision suddenly drifts into inky blackness as the phone rests beside you on your pillow. the last thing you are aware of before you slip into unconsciousness again is banging at your front door.

sukuna bursts into your apartment mere minutes after you stopped answering him on the phone. he looks about ready to kill, crimson eyes wide and pupils shrunken as he breathes heavily, looking all over your apartment.

he's stomping to your room and throwing the door open when he sees you laying in the bed. "(y/n)!" he barks, searching for some response from you, but all he recieves or nonsensical murmurs.

he moves quickly to the side of your bed and grabs at your shoulder, turning you over to find your sheets drenched and your face tight with discomfort. he falters, heart jerking at the sight. "...the fuck?"

he presses a hand to your sweat-drenched face and furrows his brows in concern. you're hot. too hot for the temperature of a human being, and you're sweating like crazy, mumbling things under your breath in your sleep he can't even hear.

"the fuck did you do?" he grumbles, starting to internally panic. he scrambles to remember what this could be. he knows of plague, of pestilence, so maybe you're suffering some form of that?

hell, he can't tell. not from a glance. he's not even sure if he knows how to help you. you're entirely too hot for him to brush this off like it's nothing, and you passed out in the middle of speaking to him.

he looks over and sees the thermometer on your sheets and leans over to pick it up. the screen reads a high number, which he assumes is the temperature of your body. curious himself, he prods open your jaw and tucks it into your mouth, pressing the button the way you had shown him when you had the flu to reset the time.

"come the fuck on," he growls as seconds tick by before it beeps, and he pulls it from your lips to read 104.7.

he doesn't know how far it is from your usual temp, but he knows it's high. too high.

he's quick to dial uraume for some more information, and the second he hears that you need immediate medical help, he's picking you up and making a run for it without even thinking that uraume can likely help you.

when you wake, you're blinded by nauseating lights blaring down overhead. "ugh," you groan, feeling light and disoriented. you turn your head to the side and blink, to find sukuna's face staring directly at you rather harshly.

you jump slightly, startled. "what-?" you start, scrunching your eyes to adjust to the sight before you. "sukuna? what are you..." you trail off when you realize that you aren't in your house, nor are you at sukuna's estate. instead, you're in a hospital bed hooked up to a series of fluids.

your eyes go wide as you sit up suddenly, only to be hit with a sudden dizzy spell that sends you leaning back into the bed.

"don't move," he orders, and you turn to him in confusion. never would you have expected to see the day that sukuna sits in a chair beside you in a hospital.

"why are we... what happened?"

"apparently you had a high fever," he answers harshly, fist-propping his chin up over his leg. "too high for you to be seen in my care, and too high for you to be lying in bed as though nothing was wrong."

your heart sinks. "how high?"

"when we got here, tipping past 105."

"...are you serious?"

"i had to come bust down your door to make sure you were alive. i put you on an empty roller downstairs because these fucking dumbass doctors can't see me and i had to get their attention so they could notice you. yes, i am serious."

he sounds pissed. and you hardly want to think of what he means by ‘getting their attention.’

"what do you have to say for yourself? for daring to lie to me? for pretending like you weren't on the brink of a much worse fate?"

"...i..."

"you're so lucky you're unwell, girl, because you don't even want to imagine the things i would do to you as punishment for putting yourself in such a ridiculous situation," he growls. "all you had to do was tell me and i would have taken care of it before it got worse."

you blink, almost dumbfounded. you still aren't all there, but you can tell that your fever has gone down significantly. you're no longer sweating and fewer chills wrack your body. "...huh?"

"did that fucking fever scramble your brain or what?" he fumes, eyeing you sharply. "you should have told me."

you part your lips slightly as you look at him. "honestly, sukuna, i didn't think you'd really... i don't know-"

"care?"

"no, not care. i just didn't think you'd handle it well. i didn't even handle it well myself."

"you believe me to be incapable of tending to sickness?"

"no, i just thought you'd like... not take it seriously."

sukuna's eyes darken, and you realize that you may have said the wrong thing. "in what reality would i fail to take any threat to your health seriously, whether you are frail or not?"

"see, that's what i mean. you always have to slip in something about me being frail."

"because you are. as a member of your species. look at where you lay currently," sukuna grimaces. "that is not an insult to you, it's an observation. it's an insult, however, to everyone else who isn't you."

you relax slightly. "then you were actually worried?"

sukuna scoffs. "why the hell do you think i'm sitting in a human hospital with your sick ass right now? i thought we were past you believing i do not concern myself over you."

you suddenly feel foolish, having forced yourself to suffer in your isolation and simultaneously made sukuna, of all people, worry over you.

"hm. feeling foolish, are you?" he says, reading your mind.

"shut up,," you whine, only to clutch your stomach suddenly with a groan. sukuna sighs as he gently eases your head back onto the pillow.

"i told you not to exert yourself. you give me a headache."

"kuna," you mumble.

"what?"

"can you... take me home?"

sukuna raises a brow. "home?"

"to your place," you clarify. "i don't wanna be here. i just want to be with you. want you to hold me."

"you're such a needy thing," he exhales, toying with a strand of your hair as he leans over and gazes gently at you. "you have medications you need to take."

"then bring them with."

"and if you get sick again? you've only been here ten hours."

"ten?!" you exclaim.

"you were very ill, (y/n)."

you groan. "ten is long enough. i hate hospitals. take me home. i feel better anyway, and if i get worse, i’ll just go to uraume."

sukuna sighs, standing slowly. "after i get these tubes out of you without further damaging you, i will take you home," he says, looking over the IVs that you're hooked up to.

you close your eyes tiredly and nod in acceptance. "okay," you murmur.

he grunts. "let me find some damn instructions.”

"kuna," your hand weakly reaches out to catch his wrist and he stops, turning to look down at you.

"what is it?"

you open your eyes to look up at him fondly, exhaustion welling in your gaze. "thank you."

the king of curses clenches his jaw. he smoothes ahead over your now warm forehead and leans over you. "don't do some shit like this again."

Ong helo again, i want to req reverse streamer au w childe when the reader acc dies at the golden house where the traveller aka childe fight them amdjjsjsjs, i kinda wanna see how his reaction is. (Lets just say the liyue harbor osial attack was done by another hsrbinger)

Just this and if yoi dont write for angst or you dont wanna write this feel free to delete thsi req. (I got the request idea when j was reading your latest work, it was really good 🤸‍♂️)

Yeah give me that angst baybee im a sucker for sadness

I may be a bit bad at writing angst tho, its not my strongest in writing

Also i know you cant see in game bruises/scratches but lets just pretend they exist even out of cutscene

Lets pretend Y/n's little sibling in game is also named Teucer

-ˋˏ✄— Fallen Harbinger

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ Tartaglia x Reader [ Reversed + Streamer AU ! ]

Pronouns: they/them

"Farewell, Fallen Harbinger."

CW: Angst! Death! Mentions of blood!

.navigation. // .genshin impact masterlist.

'Go to the Golden House,' the quest read.

It had just been another regular day for Childe. Wake up, do his morning chores, then do his regular, messily scheduled streaming.

And, as per usual, he had been streaming Genshin Impact, a well known game in the streaming community.

"The Golden House? Uh, okay then..."

He stole a glance at his chat, who were telling each other to shut up, while some only asked what would happen in confusion. Spoilers were probably deleted by his mods.

"Chat, you're scaring me, chat. What the hell is going to happen? No, no, don't tell me, I don't think I want to know yet."

Something in his head screamd at him, as a cutscene played. His chosen traveller looked around the Golden House before stepping closer to the Exurvia of the former Geo Archon.

And then, in stepped familiar h/c hair, their e/c eyes devoid of light despite the golden mora shining within the Golden House.

"Hey! The lil skrunkly!" He whispered, low enough to not desturb the cutscene.

They conversed for a bit, before the cutscene ended and a battle began.

"Surreder is a valid option, I promise I'll be gentle."

Childe swallowed his saliva, laughing quietly to himself.

"Oh I am going to have fun. Maybe."

─𖠄࿐

The fight ended, and Childe was shaking in his seat. He had barely finished phase 3, getting disracted many times.

Another cutscene played, revealing a tired, worn out traveller. But Y/n was no better, not even on his level.

Standing across the traveller, now out of their Foul Legacy form, was same old Y/n, shaking in their place as scratches and bruises littered their skin.

"Hah, you've bested me. How... intriguing. You truely are...as strong as they say."

Childe, having a chill run up his spine, stared intelty at his screen, deathly quiet.

"La Signora has even praised you for your strength, even if she had not faught you herself, yet. Hah, to get a Harbinger's attention and praise... You sure are a special one, huh?"

─𖠄࿐

Having none of their energy remaining, Y/n collapsed to the floor, on their knees. They could see the traveller hesitate to approach them, but they spoke before he could move.

"Well? What are you waiting for? I may have overused Foul Legacy, and it wont be too long."

They spared a glance at the traveller, and even in their weakest moment, a competetive and mischievous glint shone in their once dull eyes.

"Go on. Aren't you going to kill me?"

The traveller's breath hitched, before they chuckled once again.

"Haha, only joking... Unless you're up to it, of course. I'm not quite a fan of dying to Foul Legacy, but after a fight with the oh so great traveller? It was a fight worth dying for, I guess."

Coughing, blood trickled down their chin, and they wiped it off with the back of their hand.

"May I be able to hope to see you again? To have another battle? Perhaps in the far future, perhaps never again at all..."

Taking a step forward, the traveller ceased his motion as the Harbinger raised a hand.

"No need. Whatever healing you might try to do would not work. Foul Legacy takes my energy, decreasing my life span. Perhaps I wasn't meant to live long, perhaps my only purpose was to serve the Tsaritsa."

A chuckle, breathy and tired and solemn and...happy.

Happy to have someone to pass one last message for them.

"Before you leave," they spoke. "You'll probably be able to find one or two of the Harbingers here. One of them would be summoning a god banished to the depths below. You cannot stop them. Or maybe you can. But, before you leave."

They looked up, and despite the scratches and blood on their face, their half lidded eyes shined a thousand times brighter than all the mora in the Golden House.

"My siblings... My mother, my father... Everyone..."

They smiled, brighter than their eyes. It was soft and kind and solemn and genuine and sad.

A million words spoke through that smile. A million messages, a million apologies, a million grateful thank yous. Directed to their family, their parents, their siblings.

A million farewells. Directed to everyone.

Directed to the traveller. To Childe.

"Give them one last goodbye for me, will you? A hug, for everyone. A kiss on the cheek, for mum and dad."

A smile, solemn and bright. But never remorseful, never faux.

"Tell Teucer I'm sorry."

Falling to their side, they collapsed on the ground with a thud, and the Golden House was deathly quiet.

─𖠄࿐

Childe stared at the screen. Eyes wide, mouth agape. If you looked close enough, you could see his shaking form as the cutscene ended.

Another quest popped up.

'Bid Y/n L/n a final goodbye.'

And he wailed in his seat.

Tears streamed down his cheeks, and he made it seem more dramatic to make people assume he wasn't really badly affected by their death.

"I— what— NO! My skrunkly! My little meow meow!"

He moved his character to stand in front of Y/n, an interact button popping up.

'Bid your farewells.'

He did so, seeing his character change to the traveller, who kneeled down beside Y/n. Paimon floated down to the ground, placing a hand on their head.

"...We promise you, Y/n. Your family will be alright."

Taking a flower, a Cecilia from Mondstadt, the traveller gingerly placed it atop their head.

"...We'll be going now, Y/n." He said, and stood up.

Childe had been quiet the whole time, and he could see his chat going wild on the corner of his eyes, all screaming 'NO' or 'o7' or anything alike.

"What the fuck!?" He exclaimed, not touching the game. Rolling his chair backwards a bit, he turned his head to chat, hands intertwined in front of his face, covering his mouth.

He wiped his teary eyes and wet cheeks, trying to find his voice.

"That was too early! I thought I could ignore the death flags until further!!" He exclaimed, staring directly at his face cam. Running a hand through his hair, he dramatically slouched on his chair, groaning loudly.

"Nooo! I would have protected them!"

Suddenly springing up from his seat, he wailed even louder.

"THEIR FAMILY!! THEY'RE GOING TO BE FUCKING DEVASTATED! And— and— their siblings! TEUCER!" He exclaimed.

"I'm sueing Mihoyo Hoyoverse what the fuck."

─𖠄࿐

@Tartaglia Tweeted!

WHAT THE FUCK WHAT WHY I— NOOOO

@ScaryMouche Tweeted!

@Tartaglia do u know how loud u are wailing up there??

@Tartaglia Tweeted!

THEY KILLED THEM SCARA THEY KILLED Y/N

@ScaryMouche Tweeted!

WE KNOW YOUVE BEEN FUKIN CRYING ABOUT IT FOR THE PAST HOUR

@ScaryMouche Tweeted!

Honestly if u didnt pay most of the rent Dottore probably would have kicked u out before you lasted an hour in this house

@Tartaglia Tweeted!

Guys who wants to come with me lets make a personal shrine for Y/n in our backyard

@IlDottore Tweeted!

@Tartaglia Do that and I will burn you and the shrine.

—PATCHWRK !

mine now | gallagher x f! reader ( 18 + )

ill be so real with you my dearest freaky anon i'm not the biggest fan of cheating so plspls understand that if this kinda sucks,,, im sorry, especially since you were waiting for so long for this and then i drop the most lukewarm fic of all time. i also had to change the story around so that it was something that i was comfortable writing, sorry about that ! still the basic premise, i just am not good with ntr for some reason ?? weird. who knows man. tags : drug abuse ! dubcon, dirty talking, weed & alcohol mention, female anatomy reader but its sort of nonspecific idk, pw/op, voyeurism sorta, exhibitionism sorta, coercion almost, mentions of infidelity, comfort turns into sex, possessiveness, unprotected sex, gallagher uses petnames a lot, reader being drunk & high at the same time, reader gets on call with her ex boyfriend while gallagher fucks them words: 1.8k

gallagher's hand was in your hair, your head pulled back as he pounded you so hard into the mattress it made your hip hurt a little bit from the pressure, not that it was really what you were focused on. he'd promised to make you forget your shitty ex boyfriend who'd cheated on you, and you had agreed on that without a second thought. it was originally just a drink that the two of you shared together, with you ranting about this loser to gallagher, who was all too patient with you.

one drink turned into three, and drinks turned into smoking together. being crossfaded and half focused, those little rants went on about everything that had pissed you off about that loser since the moment the relationship started to decay. everything from how he refused to flush the toilet no matter how many times you reminded him, to how tiny his dick was. gallagher had laughed at your jokes about him, and it spurred you on to keep going, laughing about that loser's tiny shrimp dick. gallagher asked if you'd ever had a dick bigger than two inches, and you shook your head. you had no idea what sex was really supposed to feel like aside from what you knew.

then he asked if you were willing to see what it was like, and you swore you'd never felt more sober than that moment right then as you hesitantly nodded. was it still going to hurt if you weren't a virgin anymore ? the answer, surprisingly, was a resounding yes ! you learned that pretty quickly as gallagher's hips pistoned into yours, his free hand grabbing the fat of your ass, his body pressed against yours so he could whisper into your ear.

" don't be shy, baby, you can let your makeup ruin my sheets. it's been ruining my shirt all night now, " he purred in your ear, his sharp canines daring to bite into the sensitive skin of your neck completely without warning. when he finally did, you made a pathetic little mewl that you weren't even aware that you could make. " a little reminder of who can fuck you better than that fuckin' pathetic loser, yeah ? gonna go to work tomorrow n show off your mark for everyone to see, yeah ? "

possessiveness was driving him, only amplified tenfold by the weed in his system. it made you both feel everything so much deeper, so both in tune with your bodies and completely disorientated at the exact same time. you couldn't feel your toes anymore, and you weren't even sure you had a tongue in your mouth you were so far gone, but you could feel every deep stroke inside of you as he thrust, and the feeling of his nails digging into the flesh of your ass.

you were a disaster. you knew you should be somewhere else. it was in three the morning, you were three drinks and several shots deep, and with enough weed in your system to kill a victorian child before they could even understand what was happening to them. but you had no idea that you needed this so much, needed to feel him so deep inside of you that it brought you to tears, stretching you so well that you thought there was no way it was going to fit. and yet his cock buried itself completely inside you each time, his tip hitting against your walls in that special spot that made you cry out.

you wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, and by god you wanted to moan so loud that your neighbors could hear you. and maybe you were doing all of those things, at this point you weren't entirely sure what you were doing, other than taking his cock. gallagher was like an animal, desperate to claim every inch of you, and you were so willing to give him everything that he desired without any amount of a fight.

you heard a noise in the background, but you honestly didn't think much of it at that point. it was so unimportant, you didn't really care what it was, although you recognized the sound. " baby, your phone is ringin', you wanna answer it, or should i ? "

you made a pitiful little noise, and he took that as a perfectly valid answer, grabbing your phone and sliding it up for you. " hey, yeah ? oh, man. " you couldn't hear what was going on on the other side of the phone, but you could hear gallagher chuckle, and you swore he started to fuck you even harder now, the lewd noises of your skin slapping together undoubtedly able to be heard through the phone. " yeah, sorry you're a fuckin' loser, but they've got some new dick. thank you for keepin' them so fuckin' tight f'me. "

you don't know why your ex hadn't hung up the phone yet, but also on the other hand it made complete sense. if he had a way to argue, he was going to argue, even when all of the odds were against him, and the answer was blaring at him straight in his face. you buried your face in the pillow, trying not to make so much noise, but finding it impossible with the way gallagher was thrusting inside of you like he owned your body. and maybe he did, who knows at this point ? you just knew that you'd never felt this good, not with yourself, or any other partner.

" you wanna talk to them ? oh, man, be my fuckin' guest. i just hope you know you ain't gonna like what you hear. "

without a warning, the phone was pushed against your ear, letting you speak and say whatever you wanted to, but you couldn't find the words to say anything to him in between the moans spilling from your lips. " i-i- hh- fuck- " you whimpered, trying to think of something to say, but your mind was completely blank and filled with so many thoughts at the exact same time. there was only a brief moment of time where there wasn't anything coming from the other line, your ex so stunned that he couldn't find anything to say, but then came the barrage of insults, ones that would make you cry if you weren't being fucked so well by a man like gallagher, who was able to take your mind off of a pathetic man like your ex.

" put him on speaker, doll. let him hear you cummin' your brains out on my cock if he's so inclined. shit, i'll send him a video if he wants. whatever gets him to understand that you aren't his anymore, " gallagher growled behind you, one of his hands coming to snake around your waist, rubbing the sensitive nub between your legs with his thick, calloused thumb. you could only nod in response, sitting your phone down and turning it on speaker. you wanted him to feel horrible about everything he did to you, and you were hoping this was exactly the revenge you needed to finally get over him.

with the phone out of your hands, it was like it was entirely forgotten, especially with his finger rubbing your clit in tiny little circles. everything was building up to feel so strong inside of you, you had no idea what was happening. was it the drugs in your system making your body act up like this ? you had no idea, completely unsure what was going on. you felt this feeling in your tummy tightening as gallagher fucked you senseless, exactly like how he had promised to.

" ga-gallagher- " you whimpered out, your breath hitching in your throat. even in your fucked out state, you still managed to say something coherent, and of course it was his name. that thought only brought a satisfied grin to his face, and the older man couldn't stop himself from responding, clearly putting on a show for the person on the other end of the phone.

" what is it, my sweet ? gonna cum ? ya gonna cum on my cock like this 'nd forget all about him ? you take me so well, it's like you were made for a big, fat cock to stretch you out 'nd rearrange ya. " he was going so hard he needed to grab the headboard, his nails digging into the wood so hard that he wasn't sure if it would splinter or not, not that it even mattered. a little blood wasn't going to hurt him, and it certainly wasn't going to make him stop fucking your divine body into the perfect little cocksleeve for him. " is this your first orgasm on a cock ? you don't even know what's happenin' to ya, that's fuckin' adorable. you aint got no idea why you feel all tight down there, huh ? "

all you could do was nod helplessly against him, drooling onto the fabric of the bedsheets that was so soaked from your slick just dripping down your legs and pooling underneath you. " gonna- gonna cum, gonna cum, gallagher- pl-please- " you didn't know why you were saying please, you knew he wasn't going to stop now, not when he had a point to make of giving you the best orgasm you've ever had in your life.

" cum then, sweetie. i'll ride you through it. i'm gonna cum in this little hole of yours, okay ? you okay with that ? " you didn't give him a verbal response, just a nod of your head, but he couldn't stop himself from gently slapping your clit, making you cry out in pain, the sharpness of the sensation leaving you breathless. " say it, doll. say you want me to cum inside. you can do it, baby. "

" please- cuh-cum inside of me, gallagher- " you begged, earning you a tentative kiss on the side of your neck where he had bitten you earlier, and his finger started to rub circles around your sore clit again, perfectly timed just to make you cum.

" we're gonna cum together, okay ? let go, baby. i'm right here wi-with ya, " he couldn't stop himself from letting out a low groan, letting go of the headboard to grab your hip, dragging you on his cock as he fucked himself on you, chasing your orgasms together. with a low, animalistic growl, gallagher let go inside of you, shooting hot ropes inside of your walls as you clenched helplessly around him, the duo orgasm making you feel like you were able to blank out at any second, but you were entirely aware of your situation. he rode out the sensations with you, slowing down into gentle thrusts as he milked both of your orgasms at the same time.

when he pulled, gallagher laughed to himself, kissing the side of your neck and your nape several times as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his body against yours. " he hung up. guess we gotta call him back when we have a round two, yeah ? "

— ♡ rationaliity 2024

Hihi

if your up for it can I request (imposter au) reader whos on the run from everyone and ends up in snezhnaya. Exhausted from running, ends up collapsing in the snow. Childe finds them, foul legacy recognises them as the creator and yeah... Just sort of fluff/comfort if possible, I'm finding it hard to find works on him in sagau. Thank you

an yes! The classics, back in the prime days of sagau you’d find these in no time, but ofc ofc Childe is one of my favourites so I need to write this too!

i think, I wrote this too much out of what i wanted el oh el, as much as I love the carefree childe who’ll probably try to cheer you up by popping jokes, I’d like to dig deeper into their actual obsession to you. Reminder, I believe that, they don’t really worship you, you as the person but as a embodiment of the god that create them.

i don’t see a lot of people write about that, and it might be ooc but I really want to dig deeper into this!

—————

BLUE’S ALWAYS BEEN MY FAVOURITE COLOUR.

honey’s notes : hello, hello! I’ve been trying my hardest to get back into genshin impact, im currently trying out tower of fantasy + marvel movies, it’s been a busy year for me! Please do be patient with me when it comes to putting things out, im trying to continue both my series and see if im able to progress where I left off. As of now, have this small fic I wrote, I hope you enjoy this!

summary : ever since you’ve been small, you’ve always had the connection with the colour blue, it was the first thing you ever felt happy seeing. whether it’s the blue sky, the serene waters, or even, your favourite acolyte’s eyes.

pairing : childe x reader. [can be platonic/romantic.]

reader uses they/them pronouns.

may contain really bad grammar.

taglist : will be placed in later!

recommended song : once upon a december - christy altomare.

a cough escaped your lips, frail and shivering. you clutched the now tattered and ruined cloak, the fabric barely clinging onto your bruised and battered skin. Your fingertips run themselves against your arm, trying to create warmth.

you couldn’t tell if people were still hunting you, chasing you. their yells and distaste ringing in your ears, their words so thoroughly clear in your ears, never leaving. you grit your teeth. You haven’t slept in days, you remember. You told yourself you couldn’t, not until you’ve passed Liyue. Then you will rest.

You grit your teeth in anger and disappointment, your legs wanting to give way but your will won’t let them. You could remember the amber eyes that laid their gaze on you, full of hatred, full of distaste, as if, you were to blame of the way you looked. Were you?

You have no idea how long you’ve been on the run, how long have you had a full meal? Clean water? Warm clothing? A home? Every step you took, it felt like your body would cave in. You remember what Venti has told you once,

“there’s no home for you here. As long as you carry a face we so adore, you are always to be considered a curse.”

Your gaze stays on the floor, you can no longer tell when you’ve crossed lands, you no longer remember when you’ve stopped to take a rest, because you knew, they’re always near by, the people who despise you so, the ones who can never let go of the face you so wear.

For once, for once in your long walk, you look up. The silver storm of a suspicious land greets you so, you could almost see, every unique snowflake’s design, so intricately made. Your head makes a click, Snezhnaya. You could see the sigh that escapes your lips, forming a small gust of air in front you.

You just now start to feel the ice freezing up to your feet, your toes no longer being able to move, how long have you been walking this barren land? The icy blue was the only thing you can remember. For once, you smile. Blue was your favourite colour, it reminded you of the good things in life.

The blue sky, the calm waters you’d play at as a child, the bluebells that’d grow outside your home. You can no longer feel energy to walk, you knees give way, a soft thud onto the snow, you can barely feel the cold creep up to your limbs. The white snow, reminding you of a blank canvas. So peaceful, yet so horrifying. You’re alone, in what seems like a never ending field of ice and snow.

A hum is heard from behind you, you don’t turn your head, no longer feeling the will to, just staring at the white fields that lay itself in front of you. weirdly enough, you’re warm.

“your celestial highness, you must be cold no? don’t you worry. This one, will take care of their most beloved.”

You don’t remember what happened after, the last remnants you do, you remember staring at a beautiful creature, reminding you of the galaxies they’d talk about back in your world. Oh how gorgeous you remember it. You felt a warmth surround you, as you slowly close your eyes, letting yourself be consumed by the tiredness you’ve finally acknowledged.

blue eyes stared at you, you felt your eyelids still droop, your tiredness not going away. a hum, once again, though you can’t tell if that came from him or you.

Childe stared at you with uncertainty. Although not at you, archons, never at you. You force your fingertips to life, you felt it twitch, shaking. Your eyes slowly move around the room, the fireplace in the far corner, the countless pales of warm, boiled water. The bucket that lay at your feet, your feet’s draped in a hot towel.

You could tell why, from your ankles to your calf, it grew bright red, you though, from the snow, must be. Childe watched you scan the room, you remember him as awfully noisy, so, carefree. Almost child-like. It kind of weirds you out, how quiet and so, calculating his gaze was on you.

“tartaglia..” your hoarse voice calls out, as if a machine turning back to life, he moves, his hand reaching for a glass of water from the bedside table, slowly placing the rim of the glass to your lips, quenching your thirst.

“shh..beloved. you’re still weak.” His hushed whispers tell you, slowly tipping the glass more and more, so you could get as much water as you needed.

you force yourself up, childe supporting you from the small of your back, the soft plush bed dipping as childe stacked your pillows up behind you.

“where..” a hum silences you, you stay silent for a moment, almost afraid to speak.

“I cannot apologize for, what the other nations did to you, your highness..” childe replaces the now cold towel on your forehead, only now feeling the wet sensation as he peeled it off and placed it in a pale with warm water, you watched his hands wring it damp before dipping it back into the water.

“they know not, when their god possess such a weak mortal body, and for that, they are insolent idiots.” Childe continues, wringing the towel damp one more time, before folding it neatly, into a small shape, big enough for your forehead.

“but here, in snezhnaya, we adore you so dearly.. here you are, our treasure. the most wondrous.” you took the time to admire him, as he gently placed the warm towel on your head. You could see his ginger curls, lay so perfectly on his frame, his hair was a mullet, small cuts litter his cheeks, you mustered it was from the countless spars you always imagined he’d love to do.

his freckles littered his face so perfectly, his lips in a thin line, his gaze flickers from the towel to meeting your eyes. His cerulean eyes meet you, his eyes carry adoration, care, love and affection for you. a truly magnificent acolyte.

You could not think of anything to describe laying your eyes on childe for the first time, almost, as a breath of fresh air, but you can feel yourself bubble up, especially his eyes, oh how his eyes affected you so. Your favourite colour, Blue.

“we, snezhnaya as a nation, will restore you to your peak greatness. I, your loyal acolyte, the 11th harbinger. The holder of your foul legacy, will promise you so.” His words stun you back into silence. You aren’t sure how to respond to him, his declaration has you so curious. Why hasn’t he had the same reaction as the other characters you’ve met?

and if he knows who you truly are, then why doesn’t the others?

you didn’t let words speak for you, rather your actions. Your hand shakily raised to meet your beloved Ajax’s face, it was almost if it was a perfect fit, his cheek to your warm palm, his eyes flutter close, as he yearns more for your skin, your touch. Your thumb slowly runs through his cheekbone, delicate, soft and gentle.

“ajax..” you mumble as he hums even more, the vibration ran shivers down your spine. he looks up at you, a small smile on his face, determination and his face shows serious listening, wanting to hear every syllable your lips tells him.

“will you…will you protect me, till then? till I give them their judgement, my revenge?” You whisper, voice still hoarse, ajax leaned his lips against the inside of your palm, nodding enthusiastically, kissing it ever so gently, as if you’ll break from under his touch.

“I promise, I will restore you back to your divinity, and I will stand by your side, the day you take back the world you once created..” his eyes glisten, never breaking his gaze on yours. you couldn’t help but, fall a bit in love with his eyes. after all, blue is your favourite colour.

“we must get started then, no?”

Was it worth it?

Imagine being an adepti along side him... and well... ehe~!

"Traveler... what are you doing here?" A raspy voiced called out, arms crossed over his chest as he stood behind the traveler.

"Xiao~!!" Paimon cheered waving her hands happily as the traveler nodded in greetings. "By any chance you've seen zhongli? We're looking for him as you can see."

"You shouldn't bother him this day. Leave." Xiao continued before disappearing upon his anemo vision.

"Hey!!!" Paimon yelled out in frustration stomping her feet on air "you can't just sah that and leave!!"

"Ugh whatever... let's just go and look for zhongli on jueyun karst."

Traveler deep in thought snapped out of it as paimon waved her hands in front of them.

Why was Xiao acting that way?

.

.

Morax... Zhongli... Rex Lapis...

He... called himself multiple names, as his people hailed him Rex Lapis or Morax the God of Contracts. The two of you had fought wars together with the other adeptis, different Gods and Goddesses...

To each other you were of equal footing, until they came...

"Morax..." you bowed down behind him as he faced the sun, he muttered of your name. People had beliefs that each animal symbolizes personality, that was very much true.

As Morax stood as the dragon, you stood as the tiger, his polar opposite. "There is a war brewing for the seven thrones..."

"Do you plan to join, my Lord?" You asked, finally raising your head up and looking at him. "I... do not... I merely want to protect these people."

"Then I shall stand by you." You answered him confidently, "but time will come where we have to join the war, My Lord. We cannot stand by the sidelines forever... One way or another they will fprce themselves upon you."

Zhongli knew of this... that he had to get blood upon his hands and yours.

"Will you still stay by my side, Báihŭ?" You perked up at this, this... this wasn't your name...

"Bái... hŭ? But of course my Lord... I will stay by your side..." you answered him truthfully, "Báihŭ... the Tiger that could be the only one to stand worthy by the dragon's side..." He answered you.

"You are free to flee anytime you want as we are not bound by a contract, only by companionship." Morax finally turning around to face you, staring right into your eyes.

You merely nodded in answer "call out my name, my Lord if you ever need me again" you whispered as you disappeared out of his sight with your vision.

.

.

"Zhongli!!" Paimon cheered out as her and the traveler finally found zhongli.

Zhongli didn't answer them however choosing to stay in his position in front of something they couldn't understand...

"Zhongli...?" Paimon questioned, as her and the traveler finally reached him. Zhongli placed his finger to his lips in signal for them to keep quiet.

The traveler now in front of the statue he could finally see that it was....

Another adepti... like Pervases....

It was a curled up tiger.... why... was...

.

Why did it seem in pain...?

.

The traveler went up amd pulled out a leftover inscence placing it by the other lit up ones as they sat beside zhongli whom sipped his tea quietly...

"This... is... (y/n)... báihŭ..." zhongli answered quietly.

"Are you alright...?" Traveler questionned him as paimon floated beside them...

Zhongli stared blankly at the question... was he... fine?

.

.

Zhongli had found you back then you were but and experiment gone rogue... he found you destroying anything and everything you could find...

As a God he had to rid of you.

That was... until he saw the reasoning behind your destruction having followed you after you caused a wreckage and returned 'home'.

This home... however was no home... he could see now that the cause of your destructiveness was the constant torture that you received if you failed to meet the expectations of the one who claimed to be your master.

He took you in immediately after he had gotten rid of this master...

Taught you of how to control yourself... how to be better and brought out knew things for you to learn off.

He had named you.

.

.

The war had finally begun, the lord of geo, Morax had finally made his movement against other Gods as they slaughtered his people.

He didn't want to join this war, but if it meant to protect his people. So be it.

You fought by his side, and there came your contract with him. Companionship forgotten, a contract was born.

You swore an oath....

There will be Gods who destroy and there will be those who chooses peace. Know the difference and help those in need.

Báihŭ. The yin and the First yaksha. Adeptus Báihŭ. The only one worthy enough to stand ground with the dragon.

Thus... people hailed you.

.

.

"Báihŭ... fought along side me in the war for one of the seven seats. Where we met others as we fought for our people and our beliefs. As the God of Contracts, I had my contract for my people, Báihŭ was one of the many who didn't want a contract but to accompany me. It was until that wretched war came that... that contract was made."

"Many came to win and live up to this day, but... many also lost..."

.

.

"Guizhong!!!"

There all of them stood as they saw the God of Dust met their end. This wretched war lasted longer than it should... it has costed the life of a friend. Zhongli stared at their friend whom turned into stone.

Zhongli could not handle it... with the loss of many lives as he lived a long life. It hurted him deeply to know he truly would be the only one left.

You tried to comfort him... stayed beside him as he mourned the loss. Made sure that even he had time to take care of himself and not just worry about the war.

With the God of Contracts in mourn you fought his war. Slaughtered other Gods for what they have done and the wrongings they're doing. Unknowingly... your people's views changed of you. As they saw you morph into a thing they feared as other people lost their Gods due to your slaughtering.

This was your contract.

.

.

Zhongli let out a deep breath as he tried to keep it all in... it was his weapon that pierced through and ended you...

Paimon and the Traveler looked at each other worriedly as the traveler reached out and patted Zhongli's shoulder before standinh up and deciding to leave the God alone to mourn....

.

.

The words and lies spread fast through each people.

An adeptus that could kill Gods.

The news spread far and wide causing terror to multiple people... even your own switched and looked at you in fear.

Each people blamed you for their God's death.

The God of Dust's people blamed you for their God's death. Zhongli having heard of the rumour for your actions, thought that this was true.

.

Where were you when they mourned for guizhong's death?

.

You were there when guizhong died... but disappeared as they witnessed guizhing to turn into dust.

.

Perhaps you did kill guizhong.

.

Zhongli having enough decided to look for you at jueyun karst. Seeing you there sitting peacefully and yet covered in blood of the God's you've slaughtered. Zongli could not contain it in himself any longer to confront and speak to you.

.

You will suffer the wrath of the rock.

.

Zhongli ran towards you and kicked you as he watched you hit a nearby rock and cry out in pain from his actions, giving you no time to react, he summoned his spear and pierced it through your chest.

Deep enough to cut you and not yet end you. You yelped in pain at this trying to push him off only for the spear to deepen even more and your hands to get slashed at the movement.

"You killed her!!! You killed guizhong!!!"

Hearing this your eyes widened looking up at Morax...

.

No

.

This wasn't Morax

.

Morax trusted you...

.

Not this one....

Where... did he even get the idea that you would kill guizhong? Guizhong was your friend as much as he was also her friend...

You whined in pain unable to speak and defend yourself...

Zhongli glared at your weak form, anger clouding his rational thoughts. You will suffer his wrath.

"I will give you a chance to explain yourself. Báihŭ."

Being an adeptus meant you could still heal yourself up and fight back...

Why weren't you fighting back?

You laid there deep in though as to wether you should tell the truth... but those people... your contract to protect them... even from yourself... even if it meant you...

"I... did..."

.

Zhongli gritted his teeth and growled as he pushed the spear through you, watchinv as it passed through your body in a single whoosh and your blood spilling his spear tainting the lands with yours.

You whined in pain as you accepted your faith... If it meant... that Morax... will be fine... so be it....

There you died in vain... your body morphing into stone... much like how every other adeptus would one day...

A tiger curled up... as cracks spread all over you from where Moraz himself gave you your punishment...

You weren't worthy to be seen

For you were a failure of an adeptus.

.

"Traveler. Has the conqueror of demons fail to inform you to leave the god of contracts alone...?" A female voice spoke out, cloud retainer.

"He did! But we really needed to ask him a question... we were persistent...." paimon explained as she rubbed her nape in sheepishness.

"Hey cloud retainer..." the traveler started, to which she hummed in reply "whose the tiger adeptus....?"

"Báihŭ."

"That's it?" Paimon spoke out after the long silence. "Patience!!" Cloud retainer angrily answered spreading her wings. "Humans these days!!!"

.

.

Days passed since he took your life... since he killed you on that mountain and never returned... since the war had ended and he sat upon the throne

He learned of the truth.

It was another God that had killed Guizhong... and those people had blamed you for taking vengeance and following the contract...

He could only stand there in horror as he heard of the truth from other adeptus...

They had kept this truth from him.

There he immediately ran off and shifted into a dragon to get to you faster... to theountain where he placed his wrath upon you...

Where he left you to die....

He landed on the mluntain in a crash as he could barely contain the emotions that ran through him, he looked for your form only to see the over grown leaves.

He removed every overgrown leaves and vines digging for you. Whines escaped his muzzle as he bit of and teared what he could.

Finally getting rid of everything in his path...

There your stone form stood...

Shifting back into his human form he reached a hand out towards you... touching what used to be soft fur now hardened stone... he weeped.

His cries echoing in mourn throughout the land he owned...

.

.

"It was not guizhong that held his heart. It was theirs, Báihŭ." Cloud retainer finished.

Paimon and the Traveler looking down sadly as their eyes drifted to the man who mourned over you to this day...

迪卢克 ⸜ BIRTHDAY SEX

❪ && ❫ warnings ⸻ diluc ragnvindr 〥 afab reader. mdni. alcohol consumption (aphrodisiac), pussy drunk lulu, oral sex (character receiving), overstimulation, sub/dom undertones, rough sex, breeding kink. multiple orgasms. 2.1k wc

everyone drop your things !!!! it's diluc day today !!!! happy 4th anniversary to my first lover hehehe. celebrating with @vampsluv & @chichikoi ᰔ not proof-read

coming home to find your husband diluc tipsy on his birthday, hand lazily fisting his cock atop one of the winery's spongy sofa's, was not part of the plan...in fact, it was so far beyond your plan, that you had totally forgotten you swapped out the regular bottles of sweet grape juice with a strong stimulant to help him sleep tonight instead.

it was late, no doubt about that, which was why diluc had trouble sleeping without you, like his insomnia devoid any semblance of hinderance when he had you secure in his arms.

he didn't need drugs to put his mind at ease when he had your warmth instead. he didn't need drugs to kill his mind when the thought of you alone sent him into a complete and utter frenzy―just like now, as he thumbed the tip of his swollen crown and bucked his hips into the tight grip of his fingertips, was still not enough to weed out the growing fever in his body.

he imagined the way your cunt would break him down slowly instead, the slippery flesh molded to the shape of his dick. he loved when you cock warmed him, but tonight he had more obscene thoughts of filling you up to the brim instead; it was not enough to satisfy him. what exactly was in that drink, exactly?

―which was why the hot tears streaking down the apples of his cheeks were the second thing you noticed. the first was being how unbothered he was with doing such a salacious thing out in the open rooms of the mansion, when anyone would hear him or walk in on him. everyone had retired to their rooms for the night, but why was everyone ignoring the fact that the young master was loud enough to be heard just outside the front door?

as you creep your way in slowly, tiptoeing out of your shoes and dropping your coat to the floor in silence, diluc whimpers out your name between broken gasps. his eyes are hazy and glazed over with lust, and you think this might just be it―you had never seen him this beautiful before in your life, his hair messy and sticking to a multitude of open surfaces of his skin.

you wanted to stop him in his movements, tell him that you're finally home, that he didn't need to do this alone anymore...but maybe five more minutes of ogling him wouldn't be too bad, right? that's if the man could last any longer than a minute; he was close, so close.

"hah...ugh, y/n- ngh! w-where are you." he breaks out into the atmosphere, irritation lacing his tone that drawn a frown on his face, "fuck, where are you? oh my god- i'm gonna cum."

you crouch indiscreetly behind a vase just a few feet away from him, gnawing and nibbling on the tips of your fingers, the ache between your legs becoming too evident. you squeezed them together, which made you slip over your own feet, yet, in that moment, you heard a cry in diluc's direction, watching him spill seed over the expanse of his pelvis.

he was rubbing his tip viciously, eyes squeezed shut and panting desperately with the back of his neck supported by the head of the chair. he still hadn't gotten out of his uniform yet, the openness of his coat and slacks making your swallow nervously. you didn't realise how proportionally big he was compared to you now that you were viewing him from below.

you turn your hungry gaze away for a brief moment when you hear a door creak open, and when doing so, you are instantly pulled into a sticky embrace. you don't struggle when you realise who it could be; there's only one answer to that, and you came to know quickly from his scent alone.

diluc holds a hand over your mouth as your heart practically thumps out of your chest. he's holding you close to him on his lap, legs spread apart so you could fit between his thighs. there, you could really feel how febrile he was, especially when his dick was pocking into your back and leaving a wet trail against your cloths.

he leans in to kiss your neck tenderly, rubbing himself into with a soft pant. "what took you so long? i missed you- hah, so much."

diluc kisses your ear and whispers worries of concern into it, the feeling sending shivers up your spine.

"i-i told you i was going to be home a little later than usual, lulu."

he scoffs lightly, "i don't remember that."

he does...he's acting like a complete puppy missing their owner, right now.

"i think you should make up for it- for...what you did to me." he turns your face by the chin to look at him, and when you meet his gaze, your blood grows extremely hot at the lecherous look in his irises.

"it's my birthday. won't you do it, please?" diluc tries to suppress his voice that comes out in a croaky plead, and you saw how hopeless he really looked in that moment.

you had never seen him like this, ever, in your whole entire life. it made your cunt flutter with greed. you wanted to suck him off so bad.

diluc eases his grip on you when you try to wiggle out of his grasp, and he scrutinises your movements carefully as you kneel down in front of him, coming head-to-head with his throbbing dick.

cum from his previous release was still sticking to the skin of his shaft, and new droplets were forming at the opening. your lubricate your lips momentarily as you run your tongue over them, scooching closer and spreading his legs wider for you.

when you grip the base of his cock, he shivers, and you audibly have to hum in awe at how cute he looked. he was holding back so much temptation right now of taking you raw on this couch, but when you glance up at him with soft eyes, it makes him melt further into the cushions.

taking his tip into your mouth, your tongue swirls around and focuses on his overly sensitive tip. diluc instantly has to find something to grab, the closest thing to him, your hair. so he fists it, although somewhat a little too painfully, you didn't mind, knowing how unaware he was of his strength during this moment.

when you begin to work your mouth on him he has to move his hips up into you for more stimulation. he enjoyed the feeling of how tight his stomach felt, but he loved the sound of your gags ringing in his ears more. wet sounds alone were enough to send him over the edge, and he brings himself up on the seat to bring more of himself down your throat.

you choke momentarily as he positions both of his hands in your hair strands now, desperately fucking your face like it was the last day on teyvat.

"my love, your mouth is so hot. it's gonna make me cum....!" and he does, now you have to force his legs open so he doesn't break your skull. you could feel him twitch like crazy inside of you, and it compels tears to pummel down your face.

after he pulls out of your mouth, there's no forewarning when he throws you to the couch, face down by the neck while his spare hand desperately tries to rid you of your pants. he's a bit clumsy, dizziness setting in when you notice it.

you groan loudly as his strength unknowingly tightens around your neck and you wiggle your hips to aid him. after they fall down just below your knees, he doesn't waste any time in getting to fuck you.

you truly wonder how you can take him every time, no matter if you had prepared beforehand or not―he was still massive, with each vein protruding out of his shaft so evidently annoying when it rubbed up against your insides.

diluc inserts himself into you, bottoming out completely with a long, satisfied sigh. his head tilts back from this with stray strands of hair flowing in the wind of the opening of a window. it sends a shiver down his spine, and he allows himself a good five seconds of feeling you shudder around him before he begins to thrust your hole.

he was so unaware of his surroundings, right now. maybe you should have been more careful with his drink...

"ah- diluc! too rough-" you choke out and it compels the man above you to shove two digits into your mouth. he leans down over you, putting all of his weight into your back before whispering into your ear.

"you don't want to wake up the rest of the mansion, do you?"

how irritating that you had forgotten about that and he did not, and you involuntarily clench around him because of it, moans slightly muffled by his fingers.

"good, good. take my cock, darling. archons, how i have missed this. i've missed you." he babbles into your neck when he maneuvers a hand underneath your stomach, pressing into you that forces you to arch your back more.

"lift your hips up."

during this, he accidentally presses into the skin of where he was bulging inside of you, and it makes you squirm with an inaudible gasp.

"fuck-" he breaths in sharply, looking down at the back of your head in a dazed fit. he hums to himself as he watches you twitch, "did you just come from that? sweetheart..."

he inches down further to play with your clit, and the overstimulation instantly moves from your stomach to there. diluc's movements are violent when he pulls out and slams into you again; he knows this is your favourite position, especially when his cock had a little bit of a bent in it. it hit all the places you thought you didnt know could be reached, but his length wasn't something to joke about.

"does that feel good, hmm?" he taunts in a slurred voice, rubbing the bundle of nerves harshly in rhythm with his hips. "you're doing 's well, baby."

this could go on all night, with how much stamina that drink actually gave him. you knew that he had no control over his releases now, and with how he had you in prone bone, there was no way he could pull out from you either.

"can i do it inside, please?" diluc leans down into you again, his tone coming out in a plead. "you just feel 's good. ugh-" he whines, shivering above you.

and then his movements halt when he doesn't hear a response from you, sheathing all of himself into you. the action makes his tip press up against your cervix and more tears fall from your eyes.

you turn your face where your cheek squishes against the seat below you, looking into his lust-driven eyes with a nod.

"i want you to say it." he whines, unable to stop grinding into you. "l-lulu- ahh-" your eyes flutter to clear your glossy vision and you bring both of your hands behind you, spreading your ass for him.

"please fill me up, master diluc. i want to carry your warm seed. i will make it up- ngh- to you for ruining your birthday. so please...use me however you'd like."

from those words alone, diluc's cheek flush a bright red adjacent to his hair colour, pupils dilating. did he hear exactly what you had just said? he stutters, surprised to discern it. the thought alone pulls him to his release, and he's cumming inside of you without even moving his hips.

"ahhh- ahh" diluc cries above you, eyes nearly fluttering closed as tears fall from them. he can't help but glance down at where he is connected to you.

your stomach tenses up from this and you groan with a wince when you feel your insides stain white. he was so ridiculously cute, right now. and then, without warning, he lifts you up and pulls you to his chest, arms snug around your ribcage.

he then fucks into you at a malicious pace, and all you could do was let your arms flop and take what he was giving you. "so good, sooo good. ahh hah."

your mind goes completely blank as he continuedly presses against that spot inside of you, making you as equally drunk as he was.

if you don't stop him...this could go on all night.

Streamer Childe

Childe X GN! Reader

Fluff!

Word Count: 1.5k

Childe, “Tartaglia,” one of the most popular gamer Twitch streamers out there, has over 6.4 million followers.

He doesn’t really go by Tartaglia unless he’s being consumed by his ego, Childe is the name he mainly goes by.

Of course, it’s a running joke in the community that he’s called Childe because he acts like one - and lets be honest he does act like a bit of a child lol.

His real name is Ajax, but he’s pretty determined to keep his private life private. He’ll only let people know what he wants them to know.

Since he’s the most popular streamer out of the friend group (Xiao, Scaramouche, Aether, Venti, Zhongli, Albedo, and Kazuha), he’s more liable to hacker attacks.. what people don’t know is that he’s a hacker himself.

Like an actual hacker.

He doesn’t use this to hack games, no, he’s got a sense of reason, he uses it to annoy the shit out of people and protect himself and friends.

His background is.. not entirely known, but here he is now! A streamer who’s been at it for close to seven years now.

He gained popularity quickly from his looks alone, but his chaotic persona certainly attracts another demographic as well.

He’s insanely good at games, preferring to play multi-player just so he can obliterate his opponents and tea bag them. He’s the king of games like Valorant, Apex, and League of Legends, streams where he’s playing those games are LOUD. He’s constantly seething and screaming.

It’s literally so funny. He’s not toxic, just an idiot.

Talks mad shit, but he can back it up.

Adores destroying Scaramouche in games especially, but they’re one hell of a team if they team up.

Keep reading

Blood Washes Out

Sylus x gn!Reader

Had this idea and had to spend like a week writing it

Warnings: hurt/comfort, blood, injury, murder, swearing, vomiting, panic, pet names, sharing clothes, cuddling, crying, guilt, broken bones, guns

Word Count: 2,801

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

The phone rings by your ear, waiting to be answered. The copper stench of blood latches itself to your senses. You can taste it on your tongue, against your teeth, at the back of your throat.

The call is picked up and a whimper of relief rips from your mouth against your will. “Sylus!”

“What’s wrong?” he demands. His voice is stern. You’re glad for its strength right now. “Are you alright?”

What a shit question for him to ask.

“I need you to pick me up.” You turn your head to the side to spit out the blood pooling in your mouth. You wish it would just fucking stop.

“Send me your location, but don’t hang up.”

You feel blood stick to your ear as you pull the phone away. The touch screen is covered in red fingerprints. You’re shocked it still reads your input as you go to your messages and send him your location. You feel a burn at the back of your throat as you put the phone back to your ear, disgust wrapping its hands around your esophagus and churning your stomach.

He says your name. It’s so rare to hear him say it nowadays. That’s how you know he’s really worried. “I’ll be there in five minutes. I’m sending Mephisto ahead of me. Stay on the phone.”

You nod even though he can’t see, squeezing your eyes shut and curling into yourself as you wait on the curbside. If there’s anybody else around, anybody else who witnessed what happened…

Panic floods your veins like ice.

What if someone did see what happened? Or- Or maybe someone who didn’t and just stumbles around the corner to find-

You clamp a hand over your mouth. Bloody fingers aggravate your nose. More blood pours over them, warm and wet, sliding over a layer that’s already congealed. The metallic twang stings your eyes.

You can’t tell whose blood is whose anymore.

“I’m coming, sweetie. Just a few more minutes.”

You gasp out, “I’m gonna be sick.”

You don’t get a chance to hear his response before you drop your phone to the sidewalk. Your body moves on its own in a mad dash to turn and hurl into the gutter. It burns. It burns so fucking bad. And the taste-

Your body convulses and shakes, acting against you until your stomach is empty and you’re coughing around dry heaves.

A motor pulls up nearby. Heavy boots scuff the pavement as they rush to you. A gloved hand pulls your hair back, collecting it at the base of your head. An arm wraps around your chest, keeping you upright. A caw sounds from above you.

“I’ve got you. Don’t fight it. I’ve got you.”

Sylus surveys the scene around you. A body lays several feet away on its back. A dark red trail worms its way through cracks in the sidewalk and follows the uneven ground to a drain intended for catching floodwater. A gun hangs limply in its hand. Yours is discarded nearby.

He ducks his head to look at your face. Your eyes are clamped shut, lips trembling as you try to catch your breath. Tears glide down the curve of your cheeks.

Your nose is broken. Blood oozes from it slowly, dripping into your mouth and down your chin. It mixes with your bile and saliva as you weakly spit it out. More blood covers your clothes and your hands. It’s hard to distinguish what’s all yours, or if your broken nose is your only injury.

He grabs a handkerchief from his pocket. It cost more than your apartment and he couldn’t give a damn as he uses it to gently wipe at your mouth. “Just breathe, sweetheart. Can you stand?”

You take in a deep, uneven breath, and nod. He lets go of your hair and grabs your phone, sliding it into his pocket without worrying about the blood. He tucks the handkerchief right next to it. His arms are strong and grounding as he helps you to your feet, putting himself between you and the body as he leads you to his bike. If he’d known what state you were in, he would’ve brought the car. As it was, he was more concerned with getting to you as fast as possible.

He doesn’t force you to put the helmet on this time. As much as he’d normally insist, he didn’t want to trap you in a helmet if you were still nauseous. He slips it over his own head as he gets on first and gives you his arm for support as you climb on behind him. Your arms wrap around him tightly, bloody fingers clinging to his shirt under his leather jacket. Your body rests heavily against his back.

“My gun…” you say quietly, halfheartedly, like your concern for it is only a distant afterthought.

Sylus squeezes your hands reassuringly. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll get it back for you later.”

You nod against him. The engine purrs beneath you as he turns his bike around and peels off back home.

-

The ride is a blur of passing lights and buildings, a collage of Linkon City and the N109 Zone meshing together until you relent to just keep your eyes shut. You don’t open them again until he slows to a stop in front of his mansion.

The twins are rushing out the door to greet you. “Boss! Woah, what happened to you?” Luke winces as he catches sight of you. Kieran smacks him upside the head and rushes to help you off the bike.

Sylus gets off after, pulling his helmet off and resting it on the seat. He pulls out the phone and handkerchief, and passes it over to Luke. “Get this cleaned up.”

“Sure thing, Boss!”

He takes you gently away from Kieran, wrapping an arm behind your knees and back and lifting you into his arms. “Follow Mephisto. Deal with it.”

Kieran nods. “On it, Boss.” Mephisto’s metal wings slice through the air as Sylus leads you past the twins and inside.

“‘M sorry,” you mumble. You turn your head from his shoulder, trying not to get blood on his shirt. Your hands sit limply in your lap.

“Don’t apologize, sweetie,” he assures. “Can you tell me what happened?”

The mansion is warm and familiar, dark and comforting in a way the night outside isn’t. He carries you all the way to his room and the ensuite bathroom where he sits you on the countertop. He removes his gloves, grabs a white washcloth, wets it under the faucet, and gently works on cleaning the blood from your face. The pristine white cloth stains pink, and eventually red.

You stare at his shirt. Despite it being black, you can see the remnants of blood you left on him.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart.” He holds your chin delicately in one hand, tilting your head up to look at him. “Talk to me.”

Fresh tears burn at your eyes. You want to forget tonight ever happened. Want to find someone with a time-traveling Evol just so you can go back and do everything different.

It’s a fruitless wish. Everything already happened. It was already burned into your mind. There would be no do-overs.

Your voice cracks as you speak. He frowns at the sorrowful sound. “I was going to the convenience store to get some snacks. I-I wanted some chocolate, and I didn’t have any, so… B-But I guess one of my neighbors followed me. A lot of them are Hunters, too. Said they heard me talking to you.”

“They recognized my name from the Association.” It wasn’t a question. You nod. He folds the cloth over and brushes away some splatter from your face, gently wiping away some stray tears in the process. “Did they threaten you?”

You don’t need to answer. He already knows. That gun in their hand wasn’t just for show.

“They…” You swallow uncomfortably. Your mouth feels tacky. “They said they were gonna turn me in, but wh-when they approached, I freaked out. I just started fighting back, I-I didn’t know what else to do. They punched me and I fell to the ground. Th-Their gun was aimed at me, I couldn’t think, a-and I…”

The weight of the weapon in your hands never felt heavier than in that moment. Tears fell freely now. Your lungs shudder, gasping for air you can’t seem to get enough of. Your face crumples into a horrible grimace as you sob. Sylus cradles the back of your head and pulls you into his chest. He drops the cloth in the sink to wrap his arm around you. You grab onto his shirt. The blood on your hands is dried and crackly, seeping deep into your pores and staining your flesh.

“I tried saving them,” you whimper. “I tried, but there was just so, so much blood, I- I couldn’t do anything.”

He hushes you softly. “You were threatened and you protected yourself.”

“What if the Association finds out? What’re they gonna do when they find out someone’s missing? Fuck, Sy, what- What’s gonna happen?”

“Nothing’s going to happen. They’ll put up missing posters around the block, wondering where they went off to. It’ll remain an unsolved mystery, a story to tell the grandkids.”

It’s not reassuring. He sighs.

“What do you want to happen, sweetheart? You tell your boss what happened: you don’t get tried for murder, but you have to come clean about sneaking into the N109 Zone and being besties with the big bad leader of Onychinus. Or you don’t say anything, and nothing happens.” He pulls away slightly to look down at your face. You stare at the glass door of the shower, eyes glazed over and distant. “Which option sounds better to you, hm?”

You wrack your brain for a third option. Something that doesn’t take away the job you love and permanently ruin your life, while giving the Hunter you killed some grace in death. But there is none. Not really.

So you sigh. Long and drawn out. Will this guilt ever get any easier to carry?

You pull away from Sylus and he lets you. You cringe at his shirt. “I got blood on you.”

He chuckles. “Blood washes out, kitten.”

“Not very easily.”

“No,” he agrees. “But I have my ways.”

This is no longer a simple conversation about laundry.

Sylus picks the cloth back up and wets it again. The excess water that isn’t squeezed out drips into your lap. He wipes the fresh blood coming from your nose. “We need to set this. Do you want something to bite down on?”

-

Your nose still stings as you stand under the shower spray. The heady scent of his shampoo saturates the air, swirling in tandem with the steam. There’s no more blood in your hair, on your ear from the phone, or on your face. And there isn’t any on your hands, either. But as you look down at them, water collecting in your palms and slipping between your fingers, you could feel the hot blood that had been there.

A knock on the door startles you from your revelry. It opens before you can say anything, and you can see the blurry silhouette of Sylus as he sets something on the counter.

“Here’s some fresh clothes. I’ll be out here when you’re done.” His face doesn’t ever glance at the shower door, even when you call out his name to stop him while he’s leaving. He just stands there, head ducked slightly and ear turned your way, listening.

“Thank you.”

He chuckles softly. “It’s just clothes, sweetheart.”

You sigh bitterly. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I know.”

The door closes with a faint click as he leaves.

You put some soap in your hands and scrub until the skin is raw. Until you can’t trick yourself into thinking there’s still blood on them. Until the water begins to run cold. Only then do you feel clean enough to turn off the water and step out of the shower.

The clothes are large, practically drowning you in excess fabric. The familiar athletic shorts only stay on because of the elastic waistband and a hidden drawstring that ties on the inside of the shorts. The sweater’s sleeves go past your hands. You can’t imagine wearing anything else right now.

Just as he promised, he’s sitting on his bed when you open the door. The deconstructed parts of your gun lay spread out on the blanket, neatly sorted out. He diligently cleans every piece, ensuring he gets every speck of blood while giving it basic maintenance.

“Sorry about the clothes, sweetie. I’ll have some tailored for you.”

You pad across the floor and carefully climb up onto the bed, doing your best not to disturb the array. He doesn’t stop you when you snuggle up to his side. Rather, he allows you to wrap your arms around his, adjusting how he works for your sake. You shake your head and rest it on his shoulder.

“This is fine,” you assure him. The silence goes on for a beat or two too long before you add, “I might just steal this sweater from you.”

He chuckles. “Go ahead, sweetie. I can get more.” He sets down a cleaned part and picks up another one he hasn’t tended to yet. “Tell me what materials you like and I’ll have a whole closet of them you can steal, if you’d like.”

You smile slightly. He only notices when he glances down at you. He sets the piece down and begins to quickly assemble it all back together. You inhibit his movements somewhat, so it takes a few seconds longer than he’s used to, but he doesn’t complain. Your gun looks brand new, just as pretty and perfect as it was when you first got it at the Academy.

He flips it to offer the handle to you, a silent question. It’s all too reminiscent of your first meeting with him. Even then, even after you’d pulled the trigger, frightened for your life, you’d tried to save him. If it hadn’t been for his Evol…

Well. Lightning never strikes the same place twice.

You hide your face in his shirt, the casual grey one he usually lounges around in. The clinking of the gun disappears with the sound of a drawer opening and closing. His hand brushes your hair.

“You should get some sleep, sweetie. It’s late for you.”

“I’m not tired.” Your body says otherwise. You’re practically melting into him, into the bed. If you stay there for just a few minutes longer, you’ll be fast asleep.

“Now why don’t I believe that,” he teases.

You sigh and force yourself off of him, beginning to slip off the bed. “Let’s watch something.”

He sighs, too, but at your unrelenting stubbornness. It’s almost reassuring. At least you weren’t in a heap under the blankets, sobbing. He follows you into the living room, to the couch directly across from a large TV. You grab a blanket and wrap it around yourself until you are securely cocooned and tucked against an armrest. He sits next to you, drawing you into his side. His Evol carries the remote to his hand.

You command him along through menus and catalogues until you reach one of your favorite comfort films. The lights automatically dim as it starts playing.

You’re not even three minutes into the movie before your eyes are drooping closed. He knew it would happen, knew the exhaustion would catch up with you eventually. Still, it was quite cute, watching you fight to keep your eyes open and your head off his chest. Slowly, slowly giving in. Resting your head on his chest. Listening to his unusual heartbeat. Losing the battle against consciousness.

Still, he lets it play through to the end. It’s not a bad movie, he decides. You enjoy it, so it must have some merit. And you can always tell a lot about someone based on their favorite things.

Careful not to wake you up, Sylus lifts you into his arms, cradling you close to his chest. He carries you back to bed, not bothering to unwrap you from your cocoon at all. Despite being wide awake, he lays down beside you, continuing to hold you close to him. If you have a nightmare, he wants to be there. If you wake up in a dazed panic, he wants to be there.

As accustomed as he’s become with taking lives, he’s unfamiliar with the crisis you’re facing and how to comfort someone through a crisis of any kind. He wants to help. As best as he can, he wants you to be okay. He needs you to be okay.

---

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