⋆₊˚ chloe | she her, african american
#1 hidden inventory arc fan (real)
multifandom writer, requests are always open!
➜ masterlist | rules for requests
➤ in which the king of curses, known for terror and bloodshed, will become your husband. sukuna normally slaughtered others without thinking twice, but you were the only person who could curse, fuss, and walk away unscathed. with any remark he made, you could make a witty retort twice as fast. he grumbles (but secretly loves it.)
Sukuna never had to say a word. His presence spoke volumes, and made people bow their heads with horror-stricken resignation. Others dare not look at him, as they didn't want to become another example of his wrath. Everyone in your village knew of him, where he lurked: a forest on the outskirts. A forest nobody attempted to traverse.
Until you were sent to find herbs.
You had a hard time finding the plants you needed, so you made the decision to wander through the forest. If no one has ever been there, the place must have an abundance of plants. You thought, but there was still a small, lingering fear of coming across him.
That was the day he first saw you, but you were still unaware. It was nearing sunset, the sky calming down to soft orange hues. Everything in the forest was still clearly visible, and he wasn't necessarily hiding. Sukuna would make himself known if he wanted to be.
His first thought was that you were a beautiful, yet foolish woman. Why would you come here alone? Wander so far away, just for herbs?
Once he saw you struggling with a certain herb, he made a fast, upward motion with his pointer finger. The plants stem fell off, ending your struggle.
You were taken aback, cursing under your breath with confusion. You could feel a chill, and goosebumps appeared on your skin. You secured the plant, but it wasn't by your own devices.
"I helped you, and I get no word of gratitude?" A deep, throaty voice spoke.
That explained your recent chills. You turned around to see the man you thought was a myth. Seven feet tall, two pairs of arms: the bottom pair crossed, the top pair resting on his hips. The wind ruffled his black haori and light-colored pants. He had foreboding stature, yet to you he was enticing, alluring. He was looking down at you, eyes slighty narrowed with analysis, trying to figure out your next move, how you would react.
You didn't scream or run, but you replied. "I usually don't thank men who lurk from afar. If you had made yourself known, I would've."
That wasn't what he expected. His eyebrows furrowed, making small wrinkles on his forehead. "It is not lurking when it is my forest."
"Then do you prefer the word stalking?" You stood to your feet. "I believe that's a better fit."
His scowl deepened. "You are lucky I've let you stay here for so long. I'm sure you are not oblivious, you know who I am. What I am capable of."
"I do." You nodded. "Yet, my village needed herb, which this forest has plenty of. So, I suppose I will thank you for that."
His lips twitched, wanting to say more, but he pushed it back down. "You will leave now." His voice boomed. "Go, while I am still giving you a chance."
Sukuna's words held no malice, and his threats were always empty. Every other day, he'd spot you in the forest again picking and cutting plants. He caught on to the routine, figured out where you'd enter, and left a pile of plants near it. The pile increased in size as the weeks passed, and the small basket you carried wasn't enough anymore. Sukuna crafted you a bigger one. When your yukata got caught on a branch, he left you a new one. A blue yukata bright as the sky on a spring morning, that's how he saw you.
When the herbs turned into gifts, you realized this was a courting attempt, as much as you didn't believe it.
You went back to the forest, but not looking for any herbs. You wanted to find Sukuna, but he found you first.
He stated your name. "Do my gifts suffice?"
"Your gifts have been nice, but they've also made me weary. I've given you no reason to do this, so there must be something you want in return."
"You're smart." The corner of his lips curved into a smirk. "I want you to be my wife."
He stated it like it was common knowledge, not a proposal. Not asking for lifelong devotion.
"Your wife?" You questioned, dumbfounded. "That's not humorous at all."
"Do I look like I am trying to make you laugh?" He met your eyes, repeating his prior statement. "I want you to be my wife. You are gorgeous, I've given you gifts, are you not satisfied?"
"I just told you I liked your gifts, didn't I? It's just, what did you expect from me? I am not all powerful like you are."
"Your words hold more power than I have ever seen." A genuine compliment. "They can quickly irritate me, but I've grown to appreciate the irritation. You could say i've grown fond of it." Sukuna slightly swayed. Only admitting something like this could make the King of Curses waver.
You smiled. "You're nothing like what I've heard. You're sweet."
His fond expression quickly turned into a frown. "Watch yourself. I have uttered those words for nobody else. Nobody but you."
Sukuna became your husband, and you moved into the estate. Spacious halls to accommodate his frame. Everything was left neat and tidy due to the servants who worked. You'd adjusted to living there, but not to his huge body.
Both of you were in the bedchamber, moon high in the sky. You attempted to sleep, but one of his arms would occasionally fall onto you. Every time you moved it, he would grumble.
"Wife," he huffed. "could you stop moving while I'm trying to get a moment of rest?"
"You're telling me to stop moving? You have not stopped moving since you've laid down!"
"That is not true." He quickly denied.
"It couldn't be more true! You, stop moving your arms."
"Or what?"
"Or I will move to the guest room. No, I changed my mind, you will move to the guest room."
"You think you can—" He turned over and assessed your glare. "fine."
You slept soundly that night, and he only kept one arm around you. That was more comfortable for you, and the only thing he wanted was to hold his wife.
JUJUTSU KAISEN
GOJO SATORU
- lesson plans — gojo x fem teacher!reader
- late nights — satosugu x fem!reader
- trading card games — boyfriend!nerdjo x fem!reader
SHOKO IEIRI
- thankful for you — shoko x fem!reader
GETO SUGURU
- late nights — satosugu x fem!reader
ITADORI YUJI
- movie night — boyfriend!yuji x fem!reader
RYOMEN SUKUNA
- met your match — heian era!sukuna x fem!reader
DC
BATFAMILY
- game, set, match — platonic!batfamily x batsis!reader
➤ thinking about how the anime shows yuji being so invested in the movies he watched, regardless of the genre or quality. what better way to spend one of your favorite pastimes with someone you love? this is all fluff!! scenarios where you’re spending time with your boyfriend as he shows you some of his favorite movies (and tries not to spoil them.)
Yuji makes sure to bring enough snacks, he’d bring the whole convenience store if he could. His hands were filled with bags containing both of your favorite snacks and drinks. He’d also brought a bag of microwaved movie popcorn since the other brands from the store “lacked butter.” You thought that everything he bought would last a few weeks. Keyword: thought. You ended up having to share some of your chips almost an hour into the first movie.
“Ooh, pay attention! This is the good part!” Yuji stuck his hand into the bag of popcorn, but he didn’t feel anything. He shook the bag, and the only thing that moved were the few kernels left. “Are you serious? I just opened this bag!”
You averted your gaze from the movie to look at his distraught expression. “You’re out already? We still have an hour left.”
“I thought there was more in here!”
You sighed with a smile and handed him your bag. “Here. It’s not popcorn, but it’s something.”
His downturned frown quickly turned into a smile, and he quickly accepted your bag of chips. “You’re the best, babe.” He spoke with gratitude, leaning over to cup your cheek and kiss the corner of your lips. You leaned into his touch, but you quickly felt the liquid butter on your face. Five dots of butter were left in place of his fingers.
Yuji continues to ramble about the movie, spoling it in the process. You two were about to watch the 1999 science fiction film, Deep Blue Sea, which was one of his favorites. He's sure he would've loved it more if his teacher, Gojo, did not spoil it for him. Now, Yuji is spoiling it for you.
Yuji really did from his teacher. Like teacher, like student.
"It's so good because the main character, Dr. McAlester sacrificed herself in the end. She like, cut her hand and went in the water to distract the shark, but bang!" He exclaimed with a loud clap. "The shark ate her! A lot of people say she deserved it, though—" He paused, realizing that he spoiled one of the most impacftful parts of the movie while trying to insert the disc into the DVD player. "Just...don't listen to me."
"Too late for that. Now the suspense is gone." You crossed your arms.
"I'm sorry." He giggled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. "I promise, there's still a lot of other good moments that I didn't spoil."
Yuji tries his best not to wake you once you've fallen asleep. He notices your lack of commentary, your even breaths. You were leaning on him, head tucked into the crook of his neck as his arm was over your shoulders. He rubbed your shoulder in an attempt to soothe you.
He carefully reached over to grab the blanket, and draped it over both of your bodies. He wanted to fall asleep as well, but not before placing a soft kiss on your forehead. A whispered "Goodnight." fell from his lips, and he soon dirfted off into slumber.
thinking about how gojo referenced digimon in hidden inventory. gojo likes digimon, and you like pokemon. also can be a college au.
word count: <600
requests are open!
01. Nerdjo who shows you his collection of cards.
Satoru flipped through his binder filled with sleeves and various Digimon cards. He’d keep anything related to that franchise, even his pristine first edition cards because he believed they’d “sell for a million dollars one day.” The cards may sell, but they hold more of a personal value than monetary. He’d never give away his one of a kind Digimon virtual pet, nor let anyone use it.
Except for you.
“This,” he pointed to a card. “is Biyomon. I thought you’d like this one. It’s a pink bird type—cute?”
You tilted your head. “Yeah, it’s cute. Like a pink Pidgey.”
Satoru blinked. Referencing a Pokémon, really? “Wrong franchise. Biyomon is much better than Pidgey.”
“Is that a fact, or your opinion?” You leaned in slightly, teasing him. “Because when Pidgey evolves…”
“Evolves is the key term.” He hummed. “Biyomon doesn’t need to evolve to be efficient. Even if they did, Pidgey’s evolutions wouldn’t come close.” He quickly pecked your cheek after proving his point. “It was a good try, though.”
02. Nerdjo who wears his merch as loungewear.
Satoru was always seen in comfortable and casual clothing. Button ups layered with a sweater, plain t-shirts and hoodies. He seemed quiet and reserved, eyes glued to his computer—but the occasional vibration from his phone diverted his attention. Of course, it was a text from his wonderful girlfriend that was always glued to her phone.
He was prepared to see another reel or an update, but then he read your messages.
there’s a package outside your apartment
did u buy more clothes???
That was exactly what he did.
In his defense, there was a sale! That fifty percent off sale pulled him in like quicksand, and it took his computer a moment to register the amount of times he clicked order on the checkout screen. If it was an older model, it would’ve crashed from the amount of dial up.
When he made it back to his apartment, he swung the door open with excitement. “Hey beautiful, where’s my package?” He sat the laptop bag on top of a nearby table.
“Right here.” You held it up, a bag filled all the clothes he could afford—responsibly, of course—and his face looked like you’d just handed him the world on a silver platter.
It didn’t take him long to change out of his outfit.
He went in his room, and came out wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and a black digimon sweatshirt. You recognized the character, he’d told you about every one. “Aw, that’s cute.” You smiled. “That’s, um…”
Satoru looked at you expectantly, his face saying ‘You know this!’
“Don’t tell me!” You quickly spoke. “It’s the, uh…” With a snap of your fingers. “that metal one! MetalGreymon!”
“So my teachings finally paid off. I only had to repeat it five hundred times.” Satoru teased, but his expression immediately turned into something softer. “It’ll was worth it, though. It makes me happy that you’re at least a little bit interested in the things I like—and you’re trying to learn.”
You hummed. “Yet when I talk about Pokémon it’s a different story.”
Your words reminded him of the reason he even knew about the discount sale. You’d expressed interest in a plushie of your favorite Pokémon, but never asked him about it directly. He wanted to do something nice for his girl and buy what she wanted, no questions asked. He got a little distracted, though.
Due to his hasty ordering and the fifteen dollar express shipping fee, the plushie came in a few days later. The smile on your face made everything worth it.
pairings — satosugu x fem!reader
requests are open!
you decided go with geto, both of you leaving gojo at jujutsu high. the three of you had a connection that went beyond friendly conversations, and gojo found himself missing the times they shared. he's been visiting his two lovers years after their defection, knowing that they're wanted curse users. a/n: kinda cringe sorry guys ✌
word count: 674
Suguru was sentenced to death according to the jujutsu regulations, and you'd be subjected to punishment as well.
Satoru had many chances to turn them in, it was his job after all, but how could he? Two of his first friends, lovers, the only people who saw him for who he was. The who people who were the closest to understanding him. He'd truly be alone if anything were to happen.
He still loved them too much to do anything.
He was not unaware of their current whereabouts, or what they've done while they were away from Jujutsu High. The Star Religous Group, gathering funds under the guise of a priest. You, managing the finances and taking in more sorcerers who've lost their way.
Yet when You and Suguru lie in bed, nothing feels complete. The bed is too cold, the room is too quiet, and the bedsheets aren't rustled by a certain someone constantly rolling over.
You and Suguru never mentioned it, but you knew what the other was thinking, feeling. It was too late to go back now, too much damage has been done. They've never be forgiven by the higher ups.
Satoru didn't even forgive them. The massacre of a village, Suguru's own parents, it wasn't easy to come back from. Despite it all, Satoru found himself knocking on the door of the building they resided in.
It was late, around two in the morning. He wasn't supposed to be seen with them, it lowered the risk of getting caught but also lowered the chance of someone answering the door.
To his disbelief, the door was pulled open.
The three of them stood face to face again, the moonlight shined on Satoru and leaked into the building. The atmosphere changed, and Satoru's lips twitched, itching to spew out words he didn't get a chance to say.
You spoke up first. "Who sent you?" Not a 'hello' or an 'I missed you.' Not yet. You were cautious.
"Nobody." Satoru quickly answered. "The higher ups don't know, and I'm not here to take you in. It's nothing like that." An earnest response, one that made your expression slightly soften.
"Then why are you here? I hope it's not to change my mind, our minds—" Suguru was cut off.
"It's not. I already tried that, and look how it turned out." Satoru huffed. "You should know why I'm here to see you. Don't you remember what we had?"
"Of course I do, I couldn't forget if I tried. We couldn't forget." Suguru gestured to you. "But that's in the past. What, have you come to rekindle the flame?" Suguru spoke like he was unbothered, trying to ignore the pain in his chest from acting like his lover was not important.
"Rekindle?" Satoru was taken aback. "So walking away from me that day was the end for you? The both of you? Of us? That's what you're trying to tell me?" He could not mask the hurt in his voice. He turned to you. "Tell me that's what you're saying, and I'll leave."
You couldn't meet his eyes. If felt was his his emotional blue eyes were staring into your soul, demanding a truthful answer. "That's not what we're saying." You looked up at Suguru. "We're just too proud to admit it."
"We do miss you," Suguru begrudgingly admitted. "and what we had. Unfortunately, we made a decision. It'll never be the same again."
"I know things will be different, and I don't care. That's why I'm here, standing at your doorstep, damn near pleading. It's not easy for me, either. I had to put my pride aside just to come here because I love you both. Can't you see that?" His words spilled out like a waterfall, every word filled with conviction.
After that, it didn't take much.
Suguru pulled the both of you into an embrace that soon led to the three of you falling onto bedsheets. Hands roaming over each other's bodies, slowly, softly, in hopes of making this moment last forever.
platonic!batfamily x batsis!reader
requests are open!
in a family full of vigilantes, you're the sporty sibling. you were more interested in playing tennis than fighting crime. a/n: sorry if some things don't make sense, the timeline always confuses me
Bruce was fully prepared to start your training. He'd quickly find out your skill level, where to begin, and ways to turn your weaknesses into strengths. He's done it before, multiple times, it was almost second nature.
So imagine his surprise when his first daughter decided that she didn't want any part of the vigilante business.
You saw everything. The late nights, the bruises, the bandages stained with blood that seeped out from wounds. Why would you willingly want to partake in that?
Yet, you were still taught the basics just to make sure you could defend yourself. The Waynes make headlines, so there was always the possibility of a newspaper being read with eyes filled with malicious intentions.
Soon, learning how to return a punch turned into returning a tennis ball with a forehand swing. Bruce had two courts built on the lands within the estate. One for her, and the other for any members of the family who wanted to use it in their free time. You, of course, got the most use out of it.
Bruce had dabbled in many sports, tennis being one of them. Sometimes he regrets telling you, a beginner level, energetic pre-teen, about his skills.
"Come on! Please!" You pleaded, swaying your racket back and forth. His study was spacious, but you were still bound to hit something. "You didn't buy tennis courts for nothing!"
"I know I didn't. I bought them for your enjoyment, not for me to play on." Bruce looked up from his book. "Please swing the racket outside of my study, preferably at the courts."
"You said you were good at it! I want to be good at it too! You gotta help me with my serve, I keep hitting it over the gate!"
Bruce was painfully aware of that. There was so much force behind her serves, but no direction. About ten balls went over the gate, and one struck and cracked the window.
"You're probably using the wrong grip, or you're tossing it wrong—"
"I'd toss it right if you helped me!" You cut him off. "Please, I just want to be like you."
His eyes slightly softened. "I want you to be better than me." He sighed, standing up from his chair. "Fine, I'll teach you everything I know, but I am busy. When I can't teach you, try to find your brother." He spoke, referring to Richard. It wasn't his main hobby, but he's played a couple of games. "If he can't, then I'll just find you a coach."
By the time you were fifteen, you were accepted into the Gotham Junior Tennis Academy. The sport became a huge part of your life, with most of your afternoons being spent on the court. You practiced constantly, it needed to pay off.
You worked up the ranks, and the date for your final competitive match was cutting close. You had the practice, yes, but the nerves were still there.
Luckily, you had the best (and biggest) support system.
Bruce pat your back, Dick twisted your visor trying to ruffle your hair, Jason kept a close eye on your opponent to call out any "illegal moves" they might make. Tim and Stephanie cheered you on, while Damian and Cassandra assessed the match, hoping that you'd win.
"Don't let them get in your head! You know who you are!" Stephanie called out, trying to encourage you.
You did know. You've been practicing for years, you've made it to the finals. Now? You were the Wayne that was captured holding a #1 trophy with a headline titled 'Generational Wealth and Talent: Wayne Wins Tournament.
content :: scenarios where reader, after graduating from jujutsu tech, decided to accompany gojo as a teacher. he naviagtes his feelings and attempts of showing affection for the teacher.
requests are open!
Gojo Satoru who always makes time to stop at a convenience store in the morning to bring his favorite colleague snacks to start their day. The snacks are usually sweet (to match his taste), but if you expressed any dissatisfaction? He'd immediately switch it up to find out what you liked best.
"Daily delivery!" He hummed, opening the door to your office. One hand held up a bag of sweet treats. "Got you some melonpan! Do you want any tea? I can make a quick trip!"
Gojo Satoru who asks you to lounge in his office for a brainstorming session. He finds your lesson plans interesting, unique, and engaging. You both wanted the best for your students, and so he loves to piggyback off of your ideas. Hearing you speak your mind was like a breath of fresh air to him.
You were looking down at your notebook that was filled with different plans and outings, thoroughly explaining what you wrote. He sat, legs crossed, cheek resting against his palm. You looked up to see if he was listening, and Gojo responded with a nod. "Of course, I'm listening. Go on."
Gojo Satoru who enjoys watching your playful banter with the Kyoto school staff during the Goodwill Event baseball game. Seeing you, the one that was always so focused while teaching, standing and cheering on Yuji's home run made him smile. Someone could share his cocky demeanor for once.
"Yeah, good hit!" You exclaimed, which earned an annoyed grunt from Utahime. "Don't be too upset, Miss Iori. There's always next year, but I doubt you'll even come close to beating us."
Gojo snickered, walking up to the two teachers. "It's all fun and games, but try and play to win next time."
Gojo Satoru who immediately defends your name if it's negitavely brought up in any setting. During meetings with the higher ups or with the Kyoto schools principal, his light voice will deepen. Suddenly he takes the meeting seriously, his eyes squinting beneath whatever eyewear he chose that day.
"I don't really care if you speak ill of me, but talking down on her is something I will not tolerate. She is a trusted teacher and colleague, and has shown you more respect than you deserve."
Gojo Satoru who, as months pass, finds himself wanting to see you outside of work. He sends a text message:
would you like to go out ?? i can treat you to dinner after work
to which you swiftly reply:
i thought this was a professional relationship?
Gojo cursed under his breath, thinking that it was stupid to try and pursue a relationship with a colleague. Then another message popped up:
jk, dinner sounds great
Gojo Satoru who pops into your class asking for random things, all as an excuse to see his favorite lady. It started from normal items, like extra papers and pencils, to asking you what time it was. Each visit was something new. On days where you were tired or worn out, he'd act clumsily to try and make you laugh.
Gojo Satoru who finally, properly, asked the question before he was due to travel for a mission. His hands were fidgety, but his voice was certain. "I'd love for us to be something serious, something real. I know that I can be busy at times, kind of like now, but I will always make time for you. If you want to keep this relationship away from work, that's fine. If not, that's okay too—"
A hand on top his hushed him. "I only want this relationship, Satoru. No matter where it stays or how this ends up, I still care for you."
Gojo Satoru, who suggests that you tell your students to call you Mrs. Gojo, when the two of you have only been dating for a few months. "I only want people to know I'm dating the most beautiful teacher and sorcerer."
Yet, they already do. He makes it painfully clear.
contents :: hurt/comfort and light angst. mentions/actions of smoking. confessions. years after Suguru Geto’s defection, reader and Shoko fall back on previously made promises. the two reminisce, Shoko is there to help reader through their struggles (and also confesses to them.)
requests are open!
Shoko and Reader had always made some sort of “pacts” or “deals” to quit their bad habits. Shoko would go through multiple packs of cigarettes, while Reader would drink until she couldn’t bear the taste anymore. The loss hit them hard, the loss of the person they thought Suguru was, the loss of a man who wasn’t dead.
Shoko met her at the bridge, Reader’s arms resting on the railing as she looked out into the horizon. A relaxing scene, yet her eyes were glossy with unshed tears and eyebrows furrowed. She was against the world as if that was the reason why her heart was so heavy, like she was cursed. How was one supposed to exorcise a curse that lived within them? How are you supposed to help others when the problem resides inside of you?
Reader took a swig of alcohol, letting out a breath as she looked down. “Damn it all.”
“You’re drinking again.” Shoko stated, a cigarette between her fingers.
Reader didn’t turn. “You’re smoking again.”
“What else is new?” She took a drag of the cigarette, blowing smoke out into wind. “What are you thinking about?
“What to do next, because I don’t know if I can keep this up.” She held the bottle tighter. “It’s been years since Geto’s defection, and I still feel the way I did when I first found out. I thought he was wrong, but over the years I can’t help but agree with him. Only a bit.” She scoffed. “we keep losing people, losing friends because of the curses humanity brought upon us.”
“You love and you lose, that’s life.” Shoko put it bluntly. She never sided with anyone in particular, but the woman was true to herself. She said what she felt was needed.
“We sacrifice ourselves, fighting creatures people can’t even see.” Reader quickly retorted.
“And we keep families together, we make sure that no one gets hurt, no one suffers. We’re doing a good thing, Reader—saving lives.”
Reader knew that well, but the alcohol highlighted her hurt. “I know, I know. Sorry,” she shook her head. “my thoughts are fuzzy.”
“That’s what drinking will do to you.” Shoko placed her hand on Readers back. “Come and take a seat, I don’t trust you leaning over the railing.”
Every time she drank, she’d come to the same spot on the bridge. It’d be a lie saying that thoughts like those never flooded her mind. She’d grip the railing, evaluating the choice before eventually backing away. Losing others did not mean she had to lose herself. “Good call, Shoko.”
The woman led her to a nearby bench, a hand still on their back as they both sat down. The night sky twinkled with stars, the sky clear of clouds. The light but cold wind accompanied the atmosphere. The scene was beautiful, and it was able to bring some peace to both of their minds. Reader, tipsy and tired, rested their head on Shoko’s shoulder. It was a feeling of comfort, one that reader repeated throughout the years. On long subway rides to naps after class, one was always able to rest on the other. They were able to confide in each other. So when Shoko put her arm around Reader and pulled her close, it felt like second nature.
Reader hiccuped. “Somehow, you’re always here when I need you. I don’t even have to tell you what I’m feeling, it’s like you already know.”
“I’ve been taking care of people since I’ve attended Jujutsu Tech.” As one of the few people who could heal others with her reverse cursed technique, and being Jujutsu Tech’s doctor, it’s become a habit of hers. Staying back from serious missions to deal with the aftermath, late nights and early days of constantly using her technique. “But, I know you, reader. That’s what makes it different.”
“You’re right. You read me like a book, and you always talk sense into me when I so desperately need it. Thank you for that.” Reader struggled to keep their eyes open, the alcohol inducing her drowsiness. She tried to continue her rambling confession. “You’ve always been there for others, so I want to be there for you. You work day in and day out looking after others, but then I think—who's going to look after you? That's why," her speech slightly slurred. "I always want to be by your side."
Shoko took another drag from her cigarette, lips curving up into a soft smile. "You take care of me without realizing it. You're one of my main sources of motivation. I've lost most of the people I was close to, but you're still here. Knowing that there's still one person who thinks of me or wants to look out for me is enough." Shoko tugged her closer. "I'm incredibly thankful for you, reader." She's waited for the right time to confess, and had put it off time and again. Now, with the topic they were on, maybe it's the right time. Shoko thought.
Shoko waited for a response, but didn't receive one. Assuming that reader was lost in thought, she began. "I say all of that because I love you, reader. I've loved you for a while, in fact. I thought that we just had a silly, girly friendship, but it's more than that. I want to know you intimately, to solidify the—"
Shoko cut herself off once she heard readers light snores. Of course, she's drunk. She would be sleeping now, you knew this was the wrong time. She carefully moved reader to rest their head on her lap, her finger tracing soothing circles on readers arm.
annaxmalina
romaincrisis
dededos
janainaart
theartofmadeline
areudirty
yousharknotpass
pixelskylines
gummygunk
