i choose you every time

19y | f5ve’s manager active participant on pornhub sukuna’s co-star | sukusuna

[hanakozaki]

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။|||| hanakozaki.

19 | she/her | sukuna and suna glazer | i❤︎cortis

- 165 cm of perfection, toji’s baby doll, sukuna’s co-star ⊹ ࣪ ˖

• MULTIFANDOM . ⊹ ࣪ ˖

haikyuu . persona . jjk . bleach . eva . soul eater . etc

• SOCIALS . 𝄞𝄢

letterboxd . insta . tiktok . spotify . tsumimiko

• SIDE BLOG ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[luvforlifee]

•ू Order: one sided hate towards nerd!jo ⋆ . ࿔ ˚

🧾: a passing comment made under gojos breath two years ago is exactly what costs him his chance with you. it completely slipped his mind, but not yours. never yours. your ability to hold a grudge exceeded his expectations and he has to work extra hard to get that second chance. while also pining after you.

•ू nerd!jo x fem!reader ┆ shy, needy gojo ┆ university au ┆ women in stem ┆ his pretty face is hard to ignore ⋆ . ࿔ ˚

you were always an overachiever. All throughout your life in all areas of your life. Academics, friendships, work. 

That is how you ended up in the honors program of your university as a freshman. this meant you got a lot more hands-on work as an applied physics major. smaller classrooms, closer relationships with classmates and professors, better labs.

it was a prestigious opportunity, especially for a female student in a stem field. 

therefore, being an honors student, it gave you a certain pep in your step. even if it made you miss more hours of sleep than healthy to sustain life. 

doesnt matter. that glossy 98.7% in a class with a 64% pass rate made it all worth it. 

but being mostly isolated by the program made making friends at uni a bit difficult, so you tried your best to be open to any friendships that can come out of the program. 

you were always nice, polite, let people take the seat you wanted, completed extra work on projects. 

basically a doormat. 

you did not want to be, obviously. you knew your mistake in acting the way you did, but it was also simply in your nature to try a little hard and appease everyone. 

so it was no surprise when sophomore year, in the intermediate mechanics lecture you took alongside other honors students and got seated next to a tall, white haired boy, you tried your best to be as polite as possible.

it had nothing to do with you finding him cute. you were simply nice to everyone. 

but that white haired know-it-all creature soon became an annoyance to you. he made you clench your teeth so hard you were sure you’d have to befriend a dental student soon for some discounts. 

though sweet, you always had a competitive streak. so, someone pointing out your mistakes? painting you as plainly dumb? enlarging your imposter syndrome with every dismissal? definitely chipped away at your ego.

and satoru gojo did all of that. 

if the two of you were solving a round of problems or working on the same assignment, you always tried to finish before him. but his focus was impossible to break or compete against. somehow, his computer was always shut before yours, paper turned in right under yours in the stack. 

any time you offered help, your desk mate would stare at you as if dumbfounded on why you would offer such tomfoolery to him, and then dismiss you with a wave of his hand. degrading, to say the least.

one time, at the end of class, you raised your hand to ask a question on a particularly hard section, to which gojo simply muttered under his breath ‘how can someone not know this?’ as if intermediate mechanics were taught to everyone in kindergarten. 

it has already been a particularly hard week for you and that simple mutter, that one remark on your intellect. it broke you. the professors response, surely helpful, went in one ear and out of the other. the only thing filling your brain was static. 

you did not like to think of yourself as overly emotional. but the constant pressure of feeling excluded, like you did not belong in the field you loved, didnt deserve the opportunity you had, had finally broke you. 

hot tears of embarrassment had filled your eyes which you lowered as you quickly packed your bag, hair shielding the pitiful view. you did not even dare to take a breath in case you sniffled and that gained attention.

you simply rose quietly and decided from that day on that satoru gojo is your rival, that you simply hated him. he’s a jerk, a nerd, an annoyance, probably a virgin. you threw any and every insult at his imaginary face. imagining them hitting him like a pound of bricks.

you hoped he felt your hatred every time you ignored him, left a room if he was there, moved tables in the library if he was too close. you wish his blood boiled at it as much as yours did.

gojo on the other hand really did not know what your issue was. 

he noticed, of course, some weird behavior. but he was too busy with his own things to worry about some girl from his honors program and whatever illness made her move at least 15 feet away from him. 

maybe she had albinophobia, is all gojo thought and completely dismissed the thought of you afterwards. 

—

junior year you had the luck of meeting the best friends ever. something in your life shifted.

your confidence sky rocketed, you proven to yourself that you deserve to be exactly where you are, you were no longer a ‘doormat’ as previously worded. and gojo? he still held a special, dark, spiky place in your heart of hatred. 

you liked to act as if it was a joke with your friends, but to you, it was very much real. you still very much despised the white haired geek. 

but he wasn’t the focal point of your life. and that is when things began to shift. for both you and gojo. 

you had no lectures with gojo junior year. but he noticed you regardless. 

the way you asked and answered questions without any shame, the way you presented yourself, laughed a little too loud and drew everyones eyes your way. he was not strong enough to resist your charm. 

to be completely honest, he always found you kind of cute. but your kindness at first seemed fake to his very insecure sophomore self. as if you were pitying him by trying to be his friend. he couldnt help but push you away. 

half the time, gojo did not even realize you could hear what he muttered. or he thought you simply wouldn’t really care what he had to say. you were pretty and nice — so what did it matter what he whispered to himself? you would still get ahead in life. 

but the trajectory of his life changed as well. he was never all that confident, even when he pretended to be as a self preservation tactic. but multiple times he has gotten his ego checked which resulted in him being a much more humble young man. much more respectful as well. 

in reality, gojo has forgotten the incident all together. which resulted in his enormous crush on you. all of junior year, even though the two of you shared not a single class, he has grown more and more fonder.

you never paid any attention to him, never noticed him much. he wasn’t loud, he didnt draw attention to himself like you did. and maybe that was for the better. 

multiple times while walking the court yard gojo found his eyes snapping over at you. he couldnt help it. you laughed as you ate lunch with your friends, your laugh piercing through his headphones like the first rays of sunlight through half closed blinds. he’d hyper focus on the way you threw your head back, or how your hair fanned out. it wasn’t healthy, he knew. but he craved to admire you, to dream about you, to notice very little thing.

multiples times you were part of a study group that sat right besides gojos in the library. what a coincidence! he definitely didnt propose the idea that all study groups from the honors program shoud sit together, in case they needed each others help. not him. never. 

while pretending to work, he would instead drown in your voice as you went on and on, explaining to someone else your notes and labs from your quantum mechanics lecture. probably some other guy. but simply hearing you talk was enough for him to plunge into his daydreams and later to disturb his sleep as he imagined that voice in his ear. 

gojos best friend, suguru geto, could have sworn satoru’s eyes turned heart shaped when you were within 10 feet of him. 

geto tried to get gojo to approach you. but what was the use? you both were obviously busy enough, you had your friend group around you always so gojo could never catch you one on one. and he was far too award to talk to you in a group of people he did not know. and you had no lectures together, so no forced proximity. 

satoru decided that his quiet pining, the one that would not lead him anywhere but his own madness if he keeps thinking about you, was enough for him. he convinced himself that watching you from afar, enveloping himself in your voice would keep him satisfied. he was happy.

even though some (most) would say he was pathetic. 

— 

beginning of 4th year, your last one. 

you were on your way to your last first lecture of the new semester. excitement bubbling up inside you. 

it seemed you got this way now. instead of anxiety, you felt excitement at the thought of a new lecture, new people, group projects. 

you walked into the lecture hall which would be hosting your statistical mechanics lecture. it wasn’t as big as those most students are used to. the honors program sometimes used smaller classrooms and auditoriums to host their lectures due to the small number of students taking the particular course. 

you recognized a couple of familiar faces from previous years. 

lucky for you, among the familiar faces, was your best friend. she removed her bag from a chair as you approached. 

“awe you saved me a seat?” you said in an overly sweet, joking tone, “why thank-”

“dont turn around.” your friend sayid suddenly, quietly. 

“what?” obviously, you whip your head around. it is only natural to look behind you when someone tells you not to. 

and lo and behold, your face drops. 

the white spikey hair, the blinding blue eyes framed by skinny glasses, long lanky legs stretching from under the desk. all about him irked you. deep within your body you felt the heat of annoyance, building up, rising. 

you turned back around with feigned calmness. “what? i dont care.” you plopped down into the chair. 

“you care.”

“pfft. no.”

“pfft. yes.” your friend rolled her eyes, mocking you. “last time you ‘didnt care’ we left a cafe because he walked in and then you spent three hours retelling me why you hated him.”

“please. i would never waste three hours on that moron.” you were unpacking your things, getting ready for the lecture.

unamused, your friend sighed, following suit. she decided not to argue with you further, knowing it would only turn into a rant about how you dont care and you would never waste your time and that in fact he should be the one to care and be ashamed of his behavior and he should be the one beginning for your forgiveness and him him him…. yeah. 

you had this lecture three a week because of its densely packed material and the need to cover a lot of ground not only during lectures but labs as well. 

you were prepared for it to be filled with group work, you heard from previous students and checked ratemyprofessor which all pointed to one thing. the final grade depends on all the work you and your partner do.

but what have you got to be worried about? you had your closest friend in the class and a bunch of familiar faces. there was no chance that even if you were to get paired up with someone, it would be someone you couldn’t connect with. and it definitely would not be someone dumb, since it was the honors program. 

and that is exactly how you got humbled. by getting paired with gojo. 

you settle at the desk next to his, awkwardly dropping your bag by your feet and not looking at him. your posture rigid as you prepare for the first partner assignment of the semester. your friend threw you an ‘oh shit’ glance. she knew she will hear about this until the end of time. 

gojo on the other hand couldnt believe his luck. in his head, he was thanking every god he has prayed to for this. 

his eyes practically lit up when you finally settle down next to him in that cute outfit. he truly does not know how you have time to study to get some of the best marks at the program and and on top of that look so beautiful. 

he could barely get a good look at you though. throughout the entire lesson you were turning away, shifting your body at a crazy angle just to be further, shielding yourself with your hair. 

somehow it did not click to him that it was all from him. 

that night, when gojo returned to his apartment he shared with geto, small and a bit messy from the two geeks, he excited threw his bag on the floor, yelling out for his best friend. 

“whats the commotion about?” the tired voice followed the statue that peeked from the kitchen, long black hair spilling from geto’s shoulder. 

“shes actually sitting next to me!” 

“that girl you never talked to?” geto laughed at his best friends misery. 

“that is going to change,” gojo pointed at him determinedly. 

geto shook his head and went back into the kitchen and gojo soon stumbled in, clumsy from his excitement. 

“no! you don’t get to give me that look! i waited a whole year for this. and now i have the perfect opportunity.” the way gojo was speaking could be described as squealing. 

“you didnt have to wait.” pointed out geto. 

“you know nothing about the strategic ways of capturing a woman’s heart.” 

“and you know nothing about women. period.” 

that got gojo sulking. geto wasn’t exactly wrong. gojo had crushes before, of course. but none of them gotten him as excited as his nerdy interests or a good grade. no one has quite held his attention as long as you did.

a part of him cringed at himself for acting the way he did. but he felt truly entrapped by you. if you were within ten feet, if he could hear you, if he could see you — his entire attention shifted to you. no matter what.

and now he had a reason to:

1. get your phone number. youre partners right? how else are you two supposed to communicate about projects? perfect. 

2. to talk to you. so what if he will try to swing the conversation away from the class once or twice. he simply wants to get to know his project partner better!

3. to go out with you. sure, it might just be to the library or the local campus cafe. but! it was still seeing you out of class!

a win is a win in gojos book, no matter how small. he could work with it, build up from there. 

— 

gojo spotted you sitting there already when he walked into the lecture hall. your hair framing your face in the prettiest way ever. those eyes that have yet to spot him are soft, gliding over the notes from the previous class as you fidgeted with a pen in between your delicate fingers. 

but as soon as you lifted your head and saw him approaching the softness vanished from your eyes. the sharpness of your gaze was so sudden that it made the white haired on his neck stand up and the nerd trip over his shoes. 

gojo caught himself against the desk, his pale skin flushing from the sheer stupidity of what just happened. why couldnt he just walk towards you like a normal person! he just got so startled by the way your face changed. the flowers blooming around you and birds chirping just a moment ego turned into thorns and corpses falling from the sky, right before his eyes. 

but he didnt let that deter him. never.

he sat down in the chair, sliding his bag down his shoulder. gojo turned toward you slightly, hands running down his gray hoodie, a blue button-up peeking from the bottom. “hi,” he said lowly, smiling over at you. 

you turned your head the other way, leaning your cheek on the palm of your hand. 

oh. 

well, he couldnt expect you to be open and friendly right from the beginning. it has been a while since the two of you talked. so it makes sense you might be a bit cold towards him. that was no problem for gojo. 

he will just have to advance little by little. 

you had a nagging feeling of someone staring at you. and you already felt yourself brewing with annoyance. you shoved your things into your bag, a bit carelessly but quickly. your friend already stood outside, waiting for you to head over for lunch. the heat on the back of your head was unbearable. he should really shove those eyes up his-

“y/n?”

you ignored him. and for someone so smart, he still, for some reason, took it as a go ahead. 

“i.. uhm,” he scratched the back of his neck, glasses sliding down his nose. “well i thought we should exchange numbers. for the uh-“ gojo’s eyes widened, face flushing as you suddenly straightened up and turned to look at him. once again catching him by surprise and making his voice crack. “-project.” came out way too high-pitched. 

“no.”

“grea-oh?” he blinked at you. dumbfounded. but it was for the project! okay… maybe you didnt feel comfortable giving your number out to strangers. but he had to convince you somehow. “but the project?”

“we’ll talk in class.”

“but there’s more work to be done outside of class.”

“then we will discuss that too. during class.”

“but we- we dont get that much time during class.” gojo doubled down “maybe your email?”

“no.”

this was beginning to drive him insane, his ears turning read from frustration. 

“then how can i contact you?” which came out a little too petulant for the 6’2 boy standing in front of you. 

you shrugged nonchalantly, sliding your bag over your shoulder. “send me a carrier pigeon.”

your heels quickly picked up pace as you joined your friend in the hallway, hurrying away from the awkward interaction without giving gojo a chance to try again.

gojo watched you disappear around the corner, fixing his glasses with a back of his hand. sigh, well that did not go very well for him. sliding his bag over his head, wearing it cross body, he stalked out of the hall. gojo chewed at his bottom lip, deep in thought. you were snappy, and maybe he thought it was a bit uncalled for, he was not being completely outrageous. he was more confused on what made you react to him specifically that way. 

you on the other hand did not think your snappy responses were uncalled for whatsoever. however, you spared your best friend, deciding this interaction was not worth the time you wanted to waste talking about it. you will just let it brew quietly beneath your skin. what a safe coping mechanism!

— 

gojo tried to talk to you in class for the next following weeks. how was your day? fine. and no question back. anything fun this weekend? no. any plans? no. 

it drove him a little insane. he was truly trying his best to build a connection, something to go off of. maybe a hobby you would let slip, something you enjoyed doing that he could share his extensive knowledge on. but nothing. you replied as curtly as a soldier. 

every night after the lectures he would pace around the living room, hands tugging and running through his soft white hair, as geto cooked, listening to his best friends rant about yet another failed attempt at a simple conversation with you. 

“and she just says no!” he groans, flopping down on the couch. “she says no and her voice is still so sweet. now how is that even fair?” his face is buried in his hands.

“i dont even know how you have a crush on a girl that doesnt even seem to want to turn your way. that’s more surprising. your will to torture yourself is above all else.”

“its not torture,” satoru whined. “you haven’t seen her, and i dont mean just looks. shes a god damn genius, for one. shes so fucking confident and she just knows what shes doing and it drives me insane in the best way. i just… fuck” he exhales, exhausted. “i just want to be in her orbit. a safer, closer distance i can experience her coolness. you know?”

“youre like a sunflower with its sun. cant get too close and yet you keep turning towards it.”

“idiot sunflower.” gojo mutters, throwing an arm over his glistening blue eyes. 

“the stupidest.” suguru chimes just to annoy his friend. 

—

your stubbornness was costing your project to suffer a bit. it was true that only discussing it in class was slowing down the progress. 

so, out of absolute necessity — you valued your gpa more than wounding some boys pride — you gave in. 

“gojo?” you turned towards the geek. the room was painted in sunlight, streaking inside from the blinds.

gojo just blinked at you, eyes widened. you were speaking to him, and it didnt sound like you were about to snap at him for doing something wrong or tell him off. his heart stuttered stupidly in his chest. 

“y-yes?” 

“you can have my phone number.” 

at that, gojos eyes widened even further. all of the sudden, out of the blue, you decided he was worth those ten digits? he could text you now! could talk to you outside of class, though you are likely to block him if he does. but that doesnt matter, its progress!

“sure, yes. ill just- give me a second. my phone..” gojo tripped over his own words as they rushed out, tumbling out of his clumsy lips, long fingers fumbling with his phone. after a second of one of the most pathetic scenes you have ever seen, he finally hands you his phone, looking away as he feels a blush creep over his face and down his neck. 

you grab gojos phone without any particular enthusiasm and type in your phone number. you were about to hand it back before snatching it back out of his reach. “never call me.” you fix him with a glare that has gojo swallowing nervously and nodding like a devoted puppy. “and only text me about the project. that’s it. got it?”

“y-yes, yes. of course. only about the project. yes ma’am.” you gave him another long stare, as if you were evaluating if he was being honest. if you could trust him. gojo couldnt even focus on being scared of you for longer than a second because the sun spilled over your face, coloring your eyes in a vibrant shade, your hair with a golden glow. he was entranced. 

with a huff that broke the spell you finally handed him back his phone. “dont make me regret it, gojo.” 

that night, gojos apartment was exploding with cheerful yelling and celebrations. following by meticulous hours of planning the perfect text.

your apartment was flooded with regret and groans, an endless stream of complains. 

“hes just been absolutely unbearable. i tell him to do one thing. one! and he doesnt do it right.”

“huh. what a tool.” mutters your friend, already feeling the conversation starting to spiral towards your one and only. 

“and so i had to give him my phone number.” you paced. 

“you- sorry. what?” your friend looked up at you. this was supposed to be a stalemate. you were supposed to hold out. 

“if that block of wood knew how to do anything right, i wouldn’t have to! but we cant get anything done by not talking outside of class.”

“im sure he got your hints,” your friend waved her hand, “he wont text you for nothing.”

“maybe youre right,” you slowed down finally, taking a deep breath. “he cant be that dense-“

your phone pinged in your hand. speaking of the devil. you looked down to see a message from an unknown number and your face fell as you read over it. 

> hey, satoru here. i was thinking we should spend some time outside of class.

and then one more. 

> not like that

and one more

> but like the library or something 

> to work on the project.

you almost crushed your phone in between your fingers with how hard you were gripping it. if this was anyone else, the string of messages wouldn’t have bothered you. but because this was gojo, the fact that it could have been one message but he took up more space and sent multiple, had the audacity to make your phone ping multiple times, irritated you. 

— 

“she said no,” gojo whined into the pillows of his bed. he’s alone now, the room is dark from the sun being long gone. he was supposed to be asleep. he had a quiz the next morning and a study session. he simply couldnt afford to be a slob. but your relenting rejection of his advances drove him insane. every time he asked, you turned him down sharply, and something twisted in him. 

something taunt, just pulling him to the edge. the way your voice sharpened, the way he could imagine your eyes narrowing at him. fuck. he’s getting hard just thinking about it.

any normal person would stop already. give up on you. but he wanted a fair chance. he wanted to prove to you he wasn’t as annoying as you believed him to be. 

satoru tried to think of other ways to ask you out, to get you to come to the library, to at least finish this project with him so you both could get a good grade. but all rational thoughts slowly seeped out of his brain. 

because once again all he could think about was your eyes, the way they pinned him down with annoyance. the way you huffed every time he spoke, as if it was laborious to listen to him. the way you would cross your arms over your chest, as if he was one step away from getting reprimanded by you.

oh god, how he would love to get reprimanded by you. 

sweat built at gojos brow, his breath was labored. oh no, this was really bad. just those thoughts alone made him whimper quietly. there is no way he could ignore this. or go to sleep tonight. 

satoru turned over to lay on his back. his navy blue sheets rumpling under him. his phone was already in his hand, his fingers moving before his brain could process that he’s opening your instagram. thank goodness for a public account. 

you looked so good, in every picture. your hair caught the light perfectly. your eyes twinkled, caught mid laugh. or in your highlights, posing with your girlfriends in a bar, a black dress that slipped and hung on to every part of you so perfectly. gojo felt his mouth go dry. your skin so soft, so glowy, your lips shiny in every goddamn photo like you did not ever have a bad day. 

his hand was already palming himself over the boxers as he scrolled. gojos teeth sunk lower into his bottom lip to stop any noises from coming out. the last thing he needed was to be teased by geto if he heard. 

satoru thought that maybe, just maybe, he was done for tonight. maybe he could hold on to some dignity and not go all the way tonight. but then his thumb swiped over your perfectly arranged instagram and there it was. that photo of you. 

a club, or a party. some dark room and only a flash of red lights behind you and white, presumably from your phone or a camera, lighting you up. your head is thrown back, tongue sticking out, and your friend, cropped from the photo, only an arm visible, is pouring a drink into your mouth from above. 

gojo wanted that photo tattooed on his eyelids. 

no dignity. no holding back. his hand slipped into his boxers, fingers wrapping around himself. the strokes were jagged, twitchy as his brain flushed with thoughts of you. with images of that tongue running over him, all over him. of those pretty lips throwing insults at him as you ride him. that throat he can mark up, if you ever let him. 

he sprung himself free. all flushed and glistening and pretty. he was already so on edge that he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out long. not when it came to you. never when it came to you. 

he threw his head back, muttering soft prayers in the shape of your name. turning his head into his pillows once he couldnt hold back the pathetic whimpers spilling out from his lips. 

with just a couple of strong, long strokes over his pink, flushed length, gojo was spent. strings of thick white spilling over his own abs, his phone rested on his chest that moved up and down as he panted. his hair stuck to his forehead and cheeks red from embarrassment, desire. 

shame pooled deep in his stomach, waring with unrelenting attraction. his senses came back all of the sudden. what a creep. a pervert. jerking off to a photo of a girl from his class. you didnt post these photos for him to see. you most definitely did not think anyone would have this reaction. he really needed to get a grip. 

his phone suddenly pinged. who could be texting him so late at night?

> tomorrow, library at 5. i will be there if you want to work on the project. 

gojo let out a started, chocked gasp. he was actually going to see you outside of class! but how was he supposed to face after what he did tonight. he cant look into your eyes, he is sure you will see the shame, the filth, the dirty actions done the night before. 

he fucked up. 

satoru quickly replied, obviously agreeing to see you, even as he did not know how he will stand to be in same room with you after tonight. then he got up to clean up the mess he made. the hot water of the shower doing nothing to wash away the still lingering neediness and embarrassment. 

— 

gojo was there before you, because of course he was. 

he was so anxious about being late, or stumbling in, or not knowing what to say once he saw you, that he decided to show up a bit earlier. his stress induced mind wouldn’t let him do anything beside sit and stare at a wall until the time to leave came. so he showed up an hour early. 

you picked one of the larger libraries on campus. the bookshelves spanned several floors, the interior was filled with dark, aging wood. 

the tap of dojo’s foot added to the sound filled silence of the large space, students flipping through pages and typing on their laptops. 

satoru thought that by showing up early he will avoid embarrassment but now he had nothing to do. he could get started early, but then it would look like he was trying to one up you. so once again, he found himself just sitting, every scenario running through his mushy brain. 

gojo still hasnt calmed down from last night. and once in a while he has to bury his face in his hands from the heat crawling under his skin. gojo practiced breathing, so he doesnt look like he ran a marathon by the time you arrived. 

long breath in. short breath out. pause. finish breathing out. long breath in. short breath out. pause. finish breathing out. long breath in. pause-

“learning how to breathe for the first time?”

and just like that, satorus breathing exercise collapsed. his head snapped up, silky white hair falling around his forehead, wide, blue, glistening eyes meeting your narrowed ones. that unimpressed expression on your face, the one he has seen so often, he believed he has every ridge of it memorized. 

“hi,” he breathed out, pushing back his glasses that somehow, once again, slid down his nose. he thought he was doing a good job, with the calming exercises and all. but the second you set your bag down at the table between the two of you and slide into a chair right across from him, gojo’s lungs stuttered a bit. 

you only hummed in response, pulling out your note book and laptop to get started. 

the two of you worked surprisingly well. when you weren’t focused on the fact that you thought he was the biggest jerk, you stayed focused on the diagrams, equations, and questions. it was easy enough, the work was divided and notes were passed around.

for a good hour or so, the two of you were simply people who shared no past and no future. only the present. you held no names and no weight. and in that weird space, you found yourself able to guide him, work with him, even listen as he explained his part to you. 

during research, you fell into comfortable silence. gojo preferred to look through the physical copy of the text if it wasn’t already taken out by someone else, while you arranged the information found online on your neatly organized google doc you shared with him. 

a site was taking too long to load and you leaned back in your chair, eyes briefly flickering away to scan the premises. everyone was working away diligently, eyes locked onto their bright screens, pens gliding over lined paper. someone in the far end sketched while the person closest to you drew diagrams for what looked like an architecture project. 

finally, your eyes slid over to the person right in front of you. satoru was currently slightly hunched over a book, his fingers holding down the corner from flipping. his eyes slid over the page before he quickly glanced over his own computer and wrote something down. something you will probably have to fix later because he doesnt organize his notes the way you do. his white headphones rested over his ears, and you found yourself wondering what kind of music he listened to. his foot seized tapping as fast as before, now going at a much slower pace, most likely to match whatever rhythm he was playing in his headphones. 

it was kind of unfair, you thought, your bottom lip jutted out as your frowned, how good he looked just studying. absolutely not conscious of the way he is perceived at the moment. his hair fell perfectly over his brows, ends curling around his pale face that held the most gorgeous pair of blue eyes, and the slightly pink lips he wet once in a while, while muttering an equation. 

he still held the title of the biggest asshole to you, but you were not blind and therefore would not deny his attractiveness. 

your screen flashed blue, the website finally deciding to grace you with the much needed information. your eye flickered away from the pretty nerd before you and you leaned back in, diving back into your project.

— 

you stretched up, letting out a soft groan at the tensions in your back from sitting, in a probably very unappealing position, for hours, while grinding away at a project.

the hour was late and the library held around 5 students, all fighting against sleep and hunger. 

you took off your headphones that at this point gave you a headache, pulled off your black hair tie that held up your hair in a ponytail — the release immediately caused some of the stress and tautness to be released.

this caught gojos eye, he first scanned the time. late, a little too late. then he finally eased his eyes at you. your hair fell so pretty, framing your face under the dim yellow lights, exhaustion written in your eyes, and the twitch of your fingers indicated an ache from writing so much. 

gojo pulled his own headphones to hang on his neck. “done for tonight?” his voice came out soft, as to keep the peace of the library and the fragile connection the two of you built intact. 

“yeah, pretty much.” you quietly shut your laptop and he followed suit. “just one part i dont get… and dont go mumbling how stupid i am under your breath again.” you said with a chuckle, as if it was a joke the both of you were aware of. but gojo did not catch whatever you referred to. instead, he caught the bitter lilt to your voice, as if you were painfully trying to mask this comment as witty and not a rude remark. 

your heart still squeezed at the memory of that day. of the absolute terror you felt as you realized you were unable to stop your tears or fear that every single person though you were not smart enough to be in this program. 

gojos snowy eyebrows pinched together at his confusion. your comment made no sense to him, but he did not point it out, out of the fear of creating space between the two of you again. you had a reason for saying that, but why was it directed at him? 

the lack of his response indicated to you that you should probably just leave. there was no reason to beat a dead horse, right? 

the chair scraped the floor slightly as you rose up from it and gojo snapped out of his hazy, tumbling thoughts, and followed immediately, like he couldn’t bare you being a couple of feet away from him. his hand tugged on his half open bag, struggling to close it and rush after you. 

“are we- uh.. should we do this again?” the two of you stood outside, your breaths created a translucent cloud in the chilled air.

“probably,” you tucked your hands into your hoodie before they froze off. “we should really work more on this project.”

“yeah, right. the project,” gojo scratched the back of his neck, his eyes darted away from yours as you two stood in silence. 

“yeah, kay. g’night.” you turned on the balls of your feet to walk towards the parking lot, you just wanted to escape the awkwardness as soon as possible. you guessed that leaving the library lifted the thin presence of a symbiotic relationship you had with gojo. 

“oh! should i- well, can i walk you back?” he took one tentative step behind you and stopped suddenly, not wanting to come off as creepy. 

you threw him a glance over your shoulder that said ‘as if i cant protect myself’. “im fine.”

“right, night!” gojo swallowed, gaze following your retreating body with a sort of longing he should not posses as man that never even had you in the first place. 

—

the entire walk back to his own apartment, gojo kept replaying that comment in his head. muttering? calling you stupid? were you even talking about him, or was that a general comment? an attempt at a joke?

this thought haunted him for the following two weeks. 

while he was brushing his teeth in the morning. shirt discarded somewhere in his messy room. only blue pajama pants hanging low on his hips. hair tussled from the pillows. but the only thought in his head — when did i ever call her stupid? i would never! shes one of the smartest people i know.

or when passing in between lectures. the trees around the quad stood blossoming. the cool weather has finally passed and now new flower buds were springing up from every surface. making the university look like the photos straight out of brochures. but gojo couldnt focus on the blooming buds and blossoming trees. because he was too busy replaying every conversation he ever had with you. 

he was cooking breakfast? burned the eggs because his mind got caught in the way your voice sharpened around a word.

“do you remember me ever mentioning something like that?”

geto looked up from his phone, sprawled over the couch. “uh, no. dont believe so.”

“then why! i have this nagging feeling that whatever she meant by that was very important.”

“maybe youre reading into it, like always.”

satoru chewed at his bottom lip, hands delving into his hair as if he was trying to physically pull out the buried memories. 

“satoru,” geto sat up, looking at his friend like he needed serious saving. “relax. you’ll figure it out. how about we get your mind off of it, hm? you’ve been stuck on this damn girl for a bit too long,” he pulled his white haired friends hands away from his face. “c’mon. we got a party to go to,” gets’s voice raised in pitch in a coaxing manner, a sly smile pulling at his lips. 

and somehow that worked. because suguru and satoru were walking through the doors of a bustling party. it was chiller than a regular college rave, but still held a very classic party vibe. the colored lights were flashing in the main area, the side rooms equipped warmer, lower lights. the couches were arranged in a conversation pit style, assuming the position for a large group. pieces of loud conversations could be heard all around the rooms as songs switched in intensity. 

they found themselves in a familiar group of people. all lounging around, red cups lazily held by their fingers, talking over the music away from the main room. 

someone from the said group — offhandedly, simply meaning it as a joke — made a passing comment about satoru. something simple, along the lines of — “glad satoru isn’t the same snob as he was sophomore year, always sulking and muttering about. now he can finally have some fun” which the usual cheers and passing of drinks accompanied right after.

but that really stuck with him. so that comment you made? about muttering something rude under his breath? that really was about him. 

but instead of feeling regret, some sort of remorse. guilt? no. gojo felt… angry. annoyed.

it was so petty of you — the reason was so incredibly stupid, gojo could not grasp how you could handle putting both of your grades in danger, be such a pain to him for basically no reason, and still hold that grudge. from so long ago. 

geto leaned back against the couch, arms crossing over his chest as he burrowed himself deep in thought. 

something was finally clicking, whatever he must have said to you, pieces were coming back to him. slowly and hazy, but they were starting to come together. 

and then pow- it hit him like a brick. the memory of that sophomore class. he couldnt even remember the topic being discussed in class that day, but he could finally recall what he said. ‘how can someone not know this?’

gojo scoffed under his breath, the conversation taking place around him loud enough to swallow the soft, frustrated sound. 

it wasn’t long before he caught you across the room. who knew you would show up to the same party he did? as annoyed as gojo wanted to stay, his eyes kept wondering towards you. as if you were something so captivating his body simply would not go against the desire to feast upon your beauty. 

you were awfully bored in your apartment tonight, the place so quiet while your thoughts were so loud, you simply had to crawl out. you hit up the first party with enough people you could find. not like you needed an invite. a low enough top or a short enough skirt could get you in anywhere. 

your eyes flickered around the room, occasionally landing on the same white block of hair. you assumed gojo wasn’t much of a party goer. but here he was. as much as you were ‘warming up’ to him, if you could even call it that. you still preferred to have your outings not be noted by his piercingly perceptive blue eyes.

the main area was dark, only flashing lights occasionally provided you enough light to see where you were going or who was around you. pushing through a mess of bodies, you finally made it to the drink table. you went for an empty cup, but someones long fingers were already wrapping around it. 

you pulled back, muttering a sorry and reaching for another empty cup, only to notice that the table was cleared. that was obviously the last one.

you glanced up to see the blue eyes that cut through the darkness, that did not lose their intensity even as the color of the room flashed and switched. gojos eyes were tenser than usual, crinkling in the corners, framed by long, beautiful snowy lashes, almost glaring down at you. 

“chivalry is dead, huh?” you huffed, “cant even offer a lady her cup anymore.” you shook your head and instead reached for a bottle. but it was already being knocked from your grip by him, why in the world did you keep reaching for the same stuff! 

you whipped your head around, glaring back up at him. “can you not be in my way, please?” it was a bit rude, your snappy tone even catching you off guard, but the room was hot, the music was too loud, and you just wanted a damn drink. 

to your surprise, gojo didnt step back. didnt apologize profusely nor did he blush furiously like he did many times before. no. his eyes narrowed behind his thin wired glasses. “what is your problem?” 

it was cutting. the tone that made you feel guilty immediately. it made your eyes widen and your heartbeat speed up, your brain already scurrying to escape the situation. you feel as if you are about to get scolded, but instead you straighten up, meeting his gaze head on. 

“what? i am just trying to get a drink.”

“no.” gojo leaned forward, nose inches away. “i mean what is your goddamn problem? is it attention you want?” he scoffed, even though you provided no answer. he didnt need verbal confirmation. in his mind, he had you figured out. and that idea of you, he hated her. that is someone he truly could despise. so gojo didnt feel so bad once he continued. “i muttered something one, once under my breath. and you-“ he laughed. a laugh that held no humor what so ever, and instead increased the anxiety you were trying to hide by tenfold. “you blew it out of proportion. do you know how stupid that is? i literally was bending over backwards trying to get you to talk to me so we can at least pass the damn class together. and all of that? all that attitude- was because of something i muttered two years ago? youre unbelievable.” 

once he finished with his rant that somehow did not get swallowed by the loud music around you, anger flashed in your eyes. all throughout your veins. because of course he would think it was stupid. “you dont get it at all, do you?” 

“what is there to get? little miss attention seeker.”

you grabbed his sleeve, for some reason needing him to know exactly how he made you feel. shove his stupid, pretty face straight into the truth. 

you pushed him into the first random room you could find. locking the door after yourself. “that’s what you think i wanted?”

gojo was out of breath and so were you. you were seething and he was realizing he is locked alone in a room with you. 

“attention? i could live just fine without your attention!” you snapped once again, but this time it wasn’t annoyance. your tone was so sharp, so raw, that gojo awoke from his imagination of you. realizing now he was too late. he has really fucked up.

“you dont know what its like being part of a group that systematically rejects you. you would never understand that! what it feels like to break every piece of yourself off just to try and fit it. to swallow your emotions and complaints and be nice to every single asshole because youre scared of never being accepted.” hot, angry tears built at the back of your eyes, a knot was tightening in your throat. “your-hic!” tears spilled from your eyes without your permission and you felt so stupid, crying in front of a guy who definitely did not deserve it. “your fucking comment made me feel so useless. so stupid. like i would never find my place. never belong.” you turned away, wiping angrily at your tears. ashamed of admitting that he had this much influence over you. “go and mutter all you want under your breath, but you words hold weight. a ton of fucking weight.”

you couldnt handle meeting his eyes and simply ran out before he had the time to say anything. this was just like you sophomore year. running away with tears in your eyes. how ironic. and pathetic. 

gojo stood in that dark room, watching the door slowly closing. he was frozen, unable to move whatsoever after you spilled your heart out. the image he had of you? absolutely vanished. of course you would put up a front against him. he was an asshole to you without even being prompted. and even now, he decided to trust his twisted idea of you that made him feel better about himself rather than genuinely asking you why something that seemed so small to him, made you so upset.

— 

your project with gojo was done. every single document has been submitted. and for the next couple of days, you decided not to show up. it was weak of you, you knew. you should be stronger and go to the lecture, sit through it like nothing happened and nothing bothered you.

but a lot happened.

and a lot bothered you. 

so you chose your peace and stayed in your apartment. the assignments that followed the project were all online anyway and you got most of your notes from your friend. and your professor was sweet enough to email you detailed lesson pages and whatever was discussed in class that day. and plus you didnt have to see that smart-ass anywhere else. 

after only going to your other lectures, staying home, and venturing out to the library, you craved to go out. literally anywhere. the grocery store, the thrifts, even the dining hall. hell, even the vending machine at the corner of the uni!

but the downpour was awful. 

absolutely horrible. it has been this way since you woke up. and it was already past midday. the rain did not even cease for five minutes for you to step out on to your balcony and enjoy the fresh, cool air. 

of course, even mother nature had to ruin your plans. you opted for a cozy night in — again. another quite night, you guessed. 

but as soon as you turned down the living room lights, the fluorescence of the tv mixing in with the warmth of your lamps, and wrapped yourself in a blanket, a serious of hurried, unorganized knocks came at your door. then the doorbell, and then more knocks. 

absolutely no one you knew would be breaking down your door right now. or ever really. so who was so desperate to get in?

you shrugged off the blanket and stalked towards the door. your fingers flicked the lock and wrapped around the door handle before pulling it in, revealed a drenched gojo. 

his white hair was plastered all over his forehead in messy strands. his glasses were covered in raindrops. his white shirt, with some goofy design on it, was drenched through and through. he held a dripping sweater in his hand, indicating that the rain was able to soak him through two layers. 

he looked absolutely pathetic. eyebrows pinched together and pulled up in that pleading expression of his. his fingers tightened and trembled over the sweater as he stood, creating a puddle of rainwater by your door. 

“im sorry,” satoru broke down. his voice cracking as he struggled to take a breath. did he run here? through the rain? 

“im so sorry, y/n” he whispered your name, again and again. his knees gave out from exhaustion. knees colliding with the floor, hands bracing himself against your doorframe.

he noticed you have missed the lectures. of course. he was the one that hacked into the professors email so he could stay up half the night, writing out lecture lessons and notes, he knew you would never read his emails. he knew you already blocked his number. so he had to get creative. he couldnt sleep some nights. the guilt gnawed at his insides like a starving dog at a peace of meat. his stomach turned every time he recollected the way your eyes shone with tears and his heart twisted every time he recalled your sharp but honest words. he missed you so much, your pretty face, your rude remarks, your lingering glances you thought he didnt notice. 

“im such an idiot. i know i was, and still am.” he lifted his head, meeting your confused gaze. they were so wide and earnest, blue and sparkling with unshed tears, “i didnt- i didnt know it made you feel that way. i hate myself for making you feel that way. youre so incredibly smart and i- fuck. i think about you so much- admire you so much it hurts.” 

he looked like a kicked puppy. his eyes slid over your backlit form and he couldnt help but whimper. actually whimper at the sight of you. 

“please give me a chance. please.” gojo begged. shaky hands coming up to gently hold the back of your thighs. “ill be good. i promise. i will never mistreat you like i did. you deserve so much better. please, please let me give you that. let me show you i am worth it. i can be that for you.”

something warm pooled in your stomach at his continuous pleading. like your presence in his life was above the presence of air. 

your fingers raked through his wet hair and gojos breath stuttered. “youll be good?”

your fingers tightened in his hair and gojos eyes fluttered shut. “so good.” he muttered. 

neither of you moved. the tv quietly kept playing something in the empty room behind you. the rain still hammering hard against the window. 

you studied him quietly. not the smart, know it all, infuriating boy. 

but the exhausted, vulnerable, raw, real satoru. 

his eyes fluttered open again and he looked at you as if you held his future in your hands. like he was giving up his full autonomy to you.

his fingers flexed against the back of your thighs before releasing, afraid he was doing too much. 

“you ran here?”

a laugh escapes his lips, broken and embarrassed. 

“yeah.”

“in the storm?”

a soft nod followed. 

“that’s stupid.”

“i know.”

“you couldve gotten sick.”

“i know. i dont care. i had to see you.”

your lips twitched despite yourself and the sight of that knocked all air out of gojos lungs. 

his gaze slithered over to your lips but he felt as if he didnt deserve the sight of that, didnt deserve your soft smile. he looked down again. 

“look at me,”

and once again, there was so much hope in his eyes it made your chest ache.

“gojo-“

“no, satoru, please. call me satoru.”

you sighed, “satoru-“

you could see the goosebumps rise on his skin simply from the way you said his name. 

“i meant it,” he interrupted, voice a bit calmer now but not lacking any meaning. “i know i dont deserve another chance. i know that. but if there’s even the smallest possibility.” 

his throat bobbed. 

“ill spend as long as it takes proving it.”

your hand slipped form his hair to his cheek and and satoru froze. not because he did not want the touch, but because he wanted it too much. so much. he dreamed of you touching him in every way possible. 

“youre such an idiot,” you murmured.

gojo melted into your touch, cheek pressing into your palm, seeking any and all the warmth and comfort it had to offer.

“your idiot. completely yours.”

[kurooscupid]

౨ৎ I TOLD YOU I COULD!

desc;; MDNI, post-time skip, bestfriends 2 lovers, multiple orgasms, finger fucking, soft dom suna, afab!reader, not prof read, rin had a crush on you ever since… so he decides to shoot his shot! , p in v , vaginal sex, squirting, bsf!sunarin → bf!sunarin

AN;; trying something new :) expect mistakes or spelling errors wc: 884

.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭

• bestfriend!suna has heard you complain about it for months. every time the topic of sex comes up during your late-night calls or when you’re chilling at his place after his ejp raijin practices, you sigh and say the same thing everytime. “no one’s ever been able to make me squirt. they all tap out or get tired before it even gets close.”

he’s usually half-laying on the couch scrolling through his phone with that signature lazy smirk, but this time he actually looks up, eyes narrowing with interest.

“bet i could,” he says casually, like he’s commenting on the weather.

you laugh in his face. “yeah right, rin. you’re my best friend, not some sex god.”

• bestfriend!suna just raises an eyebrow, setting his phone down. “i’m serious. give me one night. if i can’t make you squirt, i’ll get ya anything you want. but if i do…” his smirk turns sharper, “you admit i’m better than every guy you’ve ever let touch you.”

you thought he was joking.

he wasn’t.

.𖥔

two nights later you’re in his apartment after one of his games, still buzzing from watching him dominate on court. weell… one teasing conversation turns into a full blwown makeout session on his couch, and before you know it he has you pinned to his bed, long fingers already buried deep inside you.

• bestfriend!suna is annoyingly good. he takes his time, curling those stupidly long fingers against that spongy spot inside you while his thumb circles your clit with lazy precision. his hazel eyes stay locked on your face the entire time.

“told you,” he murmurs, voice low and smug as he speeds up. “you’re already soaking my hand,”

you’re stubborn, still trying to deny it even as your thighs start shaking. but rintaro just leans down, lips brushing your ear.

“let go. i know you can squirt for me, pretty girl.”

• bestfriend!suna doesn’t stop when you cum the first time. he keeps fucking you with his fingers through it, palm pressing firm against your clit, curling harder, faster, wet obscene sounds filling the room as he forces you higher.

“c’mon pretty girl… give it to me.”

your second orgasm hits harder. your back arches clean off the bed and you squirt all over his hand and wrist, soaking his forearm and the sheets beneath you. the sound you make is broken and shocked. suna’s eyes darken with satisfaction.

“there we go,” he breathes, looking way too proud of himself. “fucking knew you could.”

his fingers out slowly, savoring the way your walls flutter around them. he doesn’t rush. instead, he leans down and kisses you deep as he lines himself up, pressing the head of his cock against your soaked entrance.

• bestfriend!suna fucks you through three more orgasms that night, making you squirt two more times — once while you’re riding him, and once when he has your legs pushed back to your chest, pounding deep and relentless.

every time you soak his cock and stomach, suna lets out this low, warm chuckle, almost like he can’t believe how good you feel. his thumb keeps gently circling your swollen clit, eyes half-lidded as he watches you fall apart with pure adoration.

“look at you…” he murmurs between slow, deep thrusts, sweat slipping down his messy brown hair. “so beautiful like this. i’ve got you, baby. just let go for me.”

when he finally cums, he buries himself to the hilt, groaning softly against your neck as he fills you up, hips twitching with every pulse. his voice is rough but gentle when he whispers,

“all mine… only me from now on, kay?”

you’re a trembling, soaked mess underneath him, sheets completely ruined, thighs sticky with both of you. all you can do is weakly smack his shoulder, trying to catch your breath.

“told you i could,” he whispers,

.𖥔

• bestfriend!suna made good on his bet. after that night he didn’t even give you a chance to pretend it was a one-time thing. the next morning you woke up to him already scrolling through his phone next to you, arm slung over your waist like it belonged there.

“morning, squirt,” he said with that lazy smirk, not even looking up. you threw a pillow at his head.

• annoying boyfriend!suna is literally the worst (and best) thing that’s ever happened to you. he went from your stupid best friend who sent you dumb texts at 3am to the guy who now texts you “thinking about how pretty you look when you’re crying on my dick” while you’re in a work meeting.

• annoying boyfriend!suna is obsessed with making you squirt now that he knows he can. he turns it into a game. movie night? his hand is in your panties the whole time. lazy sudnay morning? he eats you out until the sheets are ruined and you’re pushing his head away because you can’t take anymore.

“rin— rinnie i can’t—”

“you can. don’t be dramatic. give me one more.”

• annoying boyfriend!suna is ridiculously clingy in the most infuriating way. he’ll lay on top of you after sex, still buried inside you, refusing to pull out while he scrolls through his phone and occasionally thrusts lazily just to hear you whine.

“rin get off me i’m sweaty.”

“no. i live here now.”

—

© @kurooscupid — DO NOT FEED TO AI OR REPOST. Reblogs are appreciated!

[serpenttine]

CUPID’S CURSE

SUKUNA X ANGEL!READER

summary : an angel with no passion for matchmaking? unheard of.. until you came along, that is. being an angel is no blessing to you, a real blessing is what you’d call ryomen sukuna—an anomaly. someone with no interest in love. think your gratitude for him will remain unchanged when he turns out to be your latest problem?

content : [4K] mdni. au, f!reader, mutual hatred, teasing, smut, reader has sensitive wings, unprotected sex, cowgirl, ass slapping, degradation & praise, manhandling, open ending

sure, life after death is an experience you should be grateful for, but this is no way to live.

shooting arrows at people all day-every day is getting to be unbearable at this point, and it seems like every angel's idea of 'fun' is playing the harp and talking about work. who they paired up with who, who's the new recruit, who's love story they got to fix, bla bla bla.

to paint a picture of your fellow angels, a few weeks back you dared to ask one of them if your boobs looked good and she gasped—looking at you as if you'd just told her to shove a dildo up her ass. has been avoiding eye contact with you ever since.

unfortunately a pretty boring group of wannabe nuns is all you've got. you're not quite sure how you ended up being hand-picked to become an angel, your life was anything but 'pure' so there had to have been a mix up in the middle of the stairs.

so you find small fragments of enjoyment elsewhere..and it just so happens that each one causes trouble. pairing the clown and the girl in hysterics outside the circus together was hilarious, had to spend a week renewing your training with the new recruits though.

however your latest and most severe punishment yet comes from trying to accessorise. you put rosary beads around your ankle and they deemed it disrespectful—apparently that was the last straw, all your offences have added up and now you're 'on break' which is a nicer way of saying suspended.

thought they'd let you treat this like a holiday? of course not. you've been temporarily placed in client relations—the complaints, feedback, and requests are what you're stuck handling now.

common occurrences like 3 arrows connecting or someone not getting along so well with their partner are all that pass your desk for a while—until a letter from an annoyed "ryomen sukuna" arrives.

FROM : RYOMEN SUKUNA

TO : CUPID'S ANGELS

I AM NOT INTERESTED IN YOUR SERVICE!!! STOP SHOOTING ARROWS AT MY BACK THE NEXT ONE I PULL OUT I WILL PLANT IN YOUR SKULL

is what you were able to decode after several minutes of squinting at the page, his handwriting near illegible.

still an interesting case nonetheless, about time something out of the ordinary was delivered. you can tell the man's determined—not only judging by the tone of the letter but also the fact he's able to remove the arrows himself.

you've never seen anything like this, and as much as you'd love to stash it away and keep it all to yourself, unusual matters like this are handled by the higher-ups. it's not like you'd be able to think up a solution anyways.

off it goes with a simple flick of your wrist, floating up towards your superiors. you've been sat on the same cloud for hours and your workload's not getting any smaller. every time you finish up with one, two more come through. sort of starting to regret your rebellious behaviour now..

you're stamping what feels like your thousandth letter of the day when you feel a light tap on your head. naturally you turn to look behind you, and in doing so you're only reminded of your solitude. nothing and no one is around except for a few doves in the distance.

what you do spot however is a letter you're about to lose, falling through the cloud you're on. the adrenaline in your body kicks in and you manage to grip the corner of it between your fingers, avoiding a tiring chase for the thing.

FROM : RYOMEN SUKUNA

TO : CUPID'S ANGELS

I AM NOT INTERESTED IN YOUR SERVICE!!! STOP SHOOTING ARROWS AT MY BACK THE NEXT ONE I PULL OUT I WILL PLANT IN YOUR SKULL

whats this doing back here? looks like there's a note attached too..

"letting you give this one a try, 6 of our angels already came back weeping.. find a way to solve this and you can go back to matchmaking <3"

as if your current punishment wasn't harsh enough they've now dumped their dirty work on you. it's not like you aren't intrigued, but 6 angels? you've got more of a backbone than the rest, sure—but what kind of monster do you have to be to make half a dozen of them sob?

you sigh, knowing you haven't got a choice in this matter and there's nothing to do but find out.

—

KNOCKKNOCKKNOCK KNOCK!

you didn't get off to a good start at all. for one, the flight down was tiring—it always is, but that's besides the point. it also took you an extra half hour to find his place since his apartment building could double as a maze.

already frustrated, you raise a hand to knock for a second time, but you're stopped by the door opening a crack. it starts to shake and you hear a gruff voice behind it, "damn things jammed again.." the man grunts, giving it a few kicks.

the door finally swings open and you see whatever light he had left in his eyes fade the second he realisies what's in front of him. "not another one." he groans.

he leans against the doorway, the tattoos plastered across his chest stretching, "go on, spit out whatever practiced speech about the 'importance of love' you have prepared."

"was i supposed to prepare a speech for you? don't remember seeing that requested in the letter.." you throw his words right back in his face.

"no i just—just come in." he sighs, turning his back to you and holding the door.

you take slow steps down the hallway, scanning the place—definitely looks like he lives alone. empty cans piling next to the sink, pair of boxers on the floor, a poster of a girl in a bikini on his bedroom wall.

light bulbs go off in your head upon seeing it, "why don't i find her for you? seem to be into her if she's got a spot on your wall." you say, pointing at the poster.

"she's on my wall cause i wanna stroke my dick from time to time, not marry the chick." his voice echoes from the living room.

"o-kay." your eyes are as wide as saucers making your way back to him, starting to understand why the others didn't take a liking to him.

he's spread out on the couch, legs apart and arms behind his head. you'd think he'd at least have the courtesy to put a shirt on in the presence of an angel? nope.

you take your seat on a nearby stool since the wings on your back do more harm than good, preventing you from resting your back against anything. clearing your throat you prepare to try and reason with the arrogant man, "so listen, i can't move on until i've helped you."

"then help me. take me off whatever list you've got up there." he says it like it's no big deal.

"it doesn't work—"

"—doesn't work that way." he interrupts by finishing your sentence, raising his voice up a few octaves to mock the other angels. "yeah i've been told. find a way to make it work or get lost."

"i can't 'get lost.'" you hold up air quotes, getting increasingly frustrated at how cocky he's acting.

"what do you mean you can't? your 'friends' were out of here within an hour, what makes you so special?" he questions you, his eyebrows furrowed.

letting out a heavy sigh you unwillingly start to explain, knowing it's best to get it over with. "it's a long story, they're basically making me do this as some sort of punishment—even though they won't call it one." your distaste towards your current lifestyle unintentionally starts to slip from your lips.

"wo-ow!" he cackles, "they sent the naughty angel to deal with the big bad wolf, never knew those existed."

you roll your eyes in response, irritated with the walking inconvenience in front of you who's treating you like a piece of gum on the sole of his shoe.

he lifts himself off the couch and stands, still chuckling to himself about his own joke. "got here a little late, no? how about you come back tomorrow when you've found a solution."

"told you already i can't go back." you spit at him.

"not my problem." he says, making his way down to his bedroom and kicking the door behind him.

but he's yours. unfortunately.

with nowhere else to go you try and get yourself comfortable on the squeaky couch, thankfully he's quite the large man so you aren't struggling for space.

there's no blanket in sight so you're forced to freeze, broken window behind you isn't helping your situation much either. you cope by laying there and badmouthing him in your head, occasionally muttering the word 'asshole' every time a strong breeze blows through the glass.

-

when sukuna—who is half awake, opens his bedroom door to find an angel sprawled out on the couch his soul nearly leaves his body.

in his state of pure terror he instinctively jumps backward, knocking over a lamp in the process which causes you to zap awake, if that wasn't enough he also starts screaming at the top of his lungs. "YOU CANT DO THAT!.. thought i was fucking dead!"

a part of you wishes he was. it'd be the quickest way to solve this issue, the only thing preventing you from doing so is the fact that you'd just end up digging yourself a deeper hole—one full of fire. "good morning to you too." you say, your voice groggy.

"when did i tell you that you could move in?!" he grumbles, rubbing his eyes.

"well did you expect me to make a blanket out of newspapers and sleep outside your door?" you retort.

you don't manage to get another word in with him bursting into a fit again. "GO HOME!—or—wherever you belong!.."

"i'll keep your suggestion in mind." you say with the most sarcastic-looking smile on your face, "speaking of moving in, i think it's time you fixed that window—for my sake."

"what, also want me to provide a complimentary breakfast buffet and room service?" he replies, his tone nothing but snarky.

"a spare pillow and my own towel would be great too, thanks." you add.

"get fucked."

most of your conversations follow that exact pattern over the course over the next few days, little bouts every now and then before he kicks you off of his couch to watch TV or leaves the apartment to do god knows what.

no chance in making any conversation, after all you tire him out with your endless begging and propositions "ever tried tinder?" , "don't you ever go out to the club? there's lot's of pretty girls there." and all you get back is some variation of 'no.'

it's not like you're itching to go back to your old lifestyle, spending a few days in his apartment (which he cleaned up after some more nagging) has made you miss simple living even more now that you've got a taste of it again.

which is weird, you never thought you'd miss doing dishes or eating borderline cardboard for breakfast. looks to you like they've accidentally sent you on a free vacation—even though your 'hotel' is more of a shabby motel it's a vacation nonetheless.

unfortunately nothing in your life stays this quiet for long.

"sukuna! look! the girl walking her dog, isn't she cute?" you call him over, nearly hanging out of the window he finally got fixed.

"mnot mmy type." he mumbles with a mouth still stuffed with food that he doesn't care to finish before speaking.

"you haven't even seen her."

he shrugs and starts walking over to you, "'mm, i just had a feeling i wasn't gonna like her."

"what about the one in the suit—over there!" you point to the opposite end of the street, "corporate woman, should know how to put you in your place."

sukuna's looking out the window this time, but it's still a hard 'no.' that word seems to be all that comes out of his mouth nowadays. turning his focus to you, an idea pops into his head—a bad one. "what if i pick you?"

you waste no time in shutting him down. "can't do that." you explain, already dreading the pointless interrogation that's coming.

"why not? y'know.. you're kind of useless. first you can't figure out a way to let me live my life in peace, then you used all your efforts to find me a match and when i pick one you can't do shit for me." he rambles on.

"i'll get fired is why. already died once so i don't think this gives me some sort of magical chance at a second life, i'll probably just die right here and fall out of your window." although you aren't 100% sure on what will happen, you give him your best guess and don't sugarcoat anything.

"said it just to piss you off.. didn't want your whole sob story. i'll give it to you though, touched my heart a bit that one." he pokes the side of your arm, his lips curling up into a grin.

"shut up." you groan, stepping back from the window and moving to sit on the edge of the couch.

"so what can you do? from what you've told me it sounds like close to nothing. do they even let you have sex up there?" he asks, a look of genuine interest on his face.

despite his question not having a certain 'intent' to it, you still feel your heart speed up and the blood in your body rush to your face. "not like we have the time or the place to." you say with a shaky voice, eyes turned away from him.

"this topic too 'impure' for you?" he jokes, not catching wind of your inner turmoil—doesn't take him long to do so though. it's obvious with the way your thighs are pressed together, how your ability to go back and forth with him has just vanished all of a sudden, and the biggest tell tale sign of all—your wings.

they've closed in on you like a blanket and the ivory feathers aren't so uniform anymore, as if you've lost control over them.

"oh."

your eyes are shut tight, and when you open them again you find him looming over you. "don't have much of a poker face, do you?" the heels of his hands rest atop the frame of the couch at either side of your thighs.

a wing moves to cover your face from him, unable to think with the noise of your heart pounding in your chest you do the only thing you can and shield yourself.

"didn't know you could ever get so quiet, if only i'd known sooner what shuts you up.." he pauses and lifts a hand to lower the wing guarding you, the feeling of his fingers brushing it has you swallowing down a whimper.

nothing slips past him, he still notices the way they quiver at his touch. "needy girl. if you want it so bad come take it." he leaves your side to plop down on the couch, fingers playing with his waistband as he looks up at you, his head resting on the frame beside your hands.

it's just not fair how a simple string of words has your pussy throbbing, turning around to look at him doesn't help much either when he's got a perfectly sculpted body and a v-line you'd do anything to lick. "don't write any letters to me after this." you say in a playful tone, masking the nervousness you feel.

once you're in front of him he wastes no time and tugs down the long skirt you're wearing, letting it pool at your ankles.

and before you know it that's not the only piece of clothing missing. you're more focused on the feeling of his lips on yours and his cock getting hard under you rather than where your bra and panties could be.

the hands resting on your hips pull your body away from his, a string of spit still connects the two of you before he speaks "up." he says with a nod of his head.

you comply, using your wings to float over him. he quickly tugs his sweatpants and boxers down in one go, freeing his aching cock that you gape at. the sheer size of it combined with the red angry tip nearly has sweat already running down the back of your neck.

"gonna get all shy on me again?" he smirks, gliding his fist along it as you stare.

you roll your eyes at his words, "keep talking and this'll be on that bucket list of yours forever."

"who says i haven't fucked an angel before?" he says, trying (and succeeding) to get a rise out of you. being petty is a habit of yours that has remained unchanged in both life and death, so naturally you attempt to glide away from him in an attempt to get him to stop with his provoking comments.

he reaches over and grabs a hold of your hips before you can get too far, "i'm kidding, i'm kidding. cmere." he chuckles, pulling you down so you straddle his thighs, the head of his cock resting against your stomach.

the sight has a lump forming in your throat, if you somehow didn't think his dick was big before, you know it now. seeing how deep it'll go inside you has your pussy clenching around nothing.

sucking a sharp breath in you sink down onto his cock, nails digging into his shoulders feeling him stretch your cunt out inch by inch.

"easy now, wouldn't wanna send you back in two." he snickers and starts slooowly gliding his left hand up your ribs, sending a shiver throughout your body, leaving goosebumps in it's wake.

with his dick over halfway inside you and lathered with your juices you're finding it much easier to move, starting with slow rolls of your hips. sukuna's eyes are glued to your chest, really paying attention to how gravity affects the rest of your body. "i ever tell you that they're pretty?"

"gonna put a picture of me on your bedroom wall next?" you hum, the sultry tone in your voice impossible to miss.

the faster you bounce on his cock the more that idea doesn't seem so wild to him, "y'know i just might." he unconsciously pulls his lower lip between his teeth as his eyes wander down to where your bodies meet, watching your cunt practically swallow his dick whole.

and feeling it too, the feeling of your tight walls wrapping around his shaft is somewhat addictive. he can't get enough—just needs more.

as you're savouring the pleasure you find in moments where your clit brushes up against the trail of pink hairs on his abdomen, sukuna's greed starts to show. his hips buck up to meet yours a tad too soon, "f-fuck!" you cry out.

"m'sorry, m'sorry, keep at it." he says, giving a light tap to your ass that for some reason makes your pace quicken, as if he's flipped a switch in your brain.

you don't think on it too long, or rather you can't. not with your thighs starting to burn, the burst of ambition from just moments earlier quickly starting to dissipate as you feel the ache in your muscles.

but you still keep at it for as long as you can, moaning loud enough for the neighbours or even the whole floor to hear for something to distract you. you swear you can feel his dick grow harder inside you with every "sukuna.." you breathe out.

with your pace eventually starting to stutter he leaves little margin for error, "cmon angel, you can do better than that." and delivers a sharp slap to your ass that landed harder than expected.

it only slows you down more, legs instinctively trying to close in on eachother at the feel of the harsh sting.

"look like you need some help." he doesn't give you the chance to answer, his words turning out to be more of a warning than an observation as he repeats his earlier actions and starts fucking up into you.

using his own raw strength to hold you up, he holds a tight grip on your waist—so tight that there are bound to be imprints of his fingers left on your skin.

can't say that it doesn't turn you on even more, your pussy is practically gushing all over his dick at the thought of it. "mm, sukuna s-slow dowwnn." your voice shakes due to the force he's using to bounce you up and down.

your pleas only egg him on further, his pulsing tip twitches upon hearing your breathy voice and he starts slamming his hips into your sopping cunt at an unthinkable pace, "s-shit.." he groans, unknowingly sliding his hand up to your wing.

it sends a ripple through your body, already left a mumbling mess on top of him you can't do anything but whine, you feel the coil in your stomach tighten and tighten, until it just snaps.

the feeling of your walls clamping down on him has him throwing his head back against the frame of the couch, his adams apple bobbing in his throat as he tries to hold himself back and fuck you through your own high.

despite his efforts he can only manage a few more thrusts before he's shooting his cum deep inside your pussy, chest heaving as he attempts to catch his breath.

the two of you lay there for a long while, but it's not long enough.

-

the next morning you're awoken to the sound of light knocking at the front door, quite surprising that knocking of all things woke you when there's a man snoring like a truck under you right now.

you walk over to it in shorts and a t-shirt you don't remember putting on yourself last night, and upon opening it you're faced with the only thing that could ruin your mood.

an angel.

"hi! they sent me down here to tell you that you can return, it's nearly been a week and they didn't want to keep you any longer. also said that you'll be in client relations for another week but after that you'll be good to go!" she speaks with a high pitched voice, one that's insanely annoying for this hour of the morning.

"mhm. yeah ill be up soon i just uh.. need to fix myself up." you stretch your limbs, feeling your muscles ache.

she pouts, "he giving you trouble? the other angels told me he wasn't the nicest to be around."

"something like that, yeah." you grumble before slamming the door in her face.

you change back into the clothes you were wearing when you first arrived, splash some water on your face and mess with your hair a little, not bothered with putting that much effort into your appearance right now.

as the lock on his front door turns you debate on saying something to sukuna before you leave. yes those few days were great, the best you've had in years—but you aren't one for sappy goodbyes. it's a shock that it even crossed your mind.

yet on the journey back up and on a cloud stamping letters it's even stranger that he's all that's on your mind.

days go by and nothing changes, still sorting through letters with him poking at your brain, inserting himself into your thoughts like some kind of parasite.

stupid of you to think that he was irritating before because he's even more irritating now, just reminding you of what you once had while you're stuck in your own version of purgatory.

of course the bastard has to go and make it worse.

INQUIRY (MARKED URGENT)

FROM: RYOMEN SUKUNA

TO: CUPID'S ANGELS

just curious would it kill your kind if you were shot with an arrow just curious though

p.s — might solve the issue i wrote to you about earlier so don't keep me waiting

a/n : this took me so long for no reason blubblub but its finally done!! i rlly enjoyed writing this one despite my lack of motivation to finish it LOL

a sukuna oneshot was due for his best concubine @yoonsucks .

perm tags: @jaaazy @yoonsucks @cherrychoso @itimisu @b-bitter @theyluvchanel @fairylilysstuff @yemmuis @measfaf @iheartspencereid @violasepals @jiyuspassion @nightmarenyxx @6x-x9 @kaiismadgay @kmhsjy @magicalpeenpoo

sukuna tags: @jayleenvvglooms @theogmamaguro @sluttyangel04 @valberryboos

want to join the taglist? fill out my form or comment here.

[thelessikthebetter7]

Tiger!Kuna is definitely a sight to see. Most people wouldn’t assume he’s your boyfriend, rather some man that you should be afraid of.

To be fair, you were at first. He’s a big guy, and he doesn’t talk much, so his emotions are entirely impossible to read. But after some time, and a lot of reassurance, you saw through to Sukuna’s soft inner kitten.

But people don’t know that, so the amount of times Sukuna is mistaken as your kidnapper rather than your boyfriend is ridiculous.

Like when you begged him to take you to target so you could find a newly released book, and he refused to even give you a few feet of space. It was almost comical how he looked following you down the fluorescent book aisle, ignoring the other people shopping entirely. This wasn’t an unusual experience, nor did you mind. It only occurred to you that Sukuna’s clinginess could be mistaken as something else when an older women came up to you and tapped you on your shoulder:

“Hi honey, are you okay? Do you need help with anything?” She smiled as her eyes darted between you and Sukuna towering behind you, his ears twitching with agitation atop his head. She had that look that all women give each other when a man is harassing them; a look that says, do you need help? Are you safe?

“Oh, I’m fine. I just found what I needed,” you responded with a smile. But the woman took this as you not talking her ‘subtle’ hint, and leaned in closer to you.

“Do you know that man…behind you?” She whispered.

You looked over your shoulder at Sukuna who was still staring you down, and the looked back at the woman. “Yeah, that’s my boyfriend,” you smiled at her, “he’s just like that!”

But it’s not Sukuna’s fault!!! You just make him feel like no one else has, and he’s enamored with you because of that. He could blame his animal DNA for his overprotectiveness, but it’s simply more than that.

You could be near him, or even look a little extra pretty (which is all the time), and he’ll start purring as loud as a sports car. One little touch from you has his pink ears twitching and fluttering atop his head. His heart burns from merely being near you, because you make him feel an amount of love he never thought possible.

In other words: you are the fuel to his already blazing fire.

Without you, he’d probably fall apart. Not just in a romantic I-can’t-live-without-you way, but also because you are quite literally the glue holding him together. You run his warm baths, brush out his sensitive tail, and remind him to eat three meals a day; all without him asking. It’s become a natural routine for you, because taking care of him just makes you happy.

And Sukuna is…not used to that, to say the least. He’s used to people being friendly to him out of fear of in order to gain something. Like the men he occasionally meets in bars that buy him a few rounds just to ask if he’s interested in underground hybrid fighting rings. Or others who only want him for sex, because they fetishize him. But you’re not those people—you’re far, far from those people.

He only realized this when he saw that you were going out of your way to take care of him. The care you put into his specific diet, the pride you have in his abilities, the unmatched passion you have for the things he enjoys—it all went above and beyond anything anyone has ever done for him.

In return, he treats you as if you were a princess he has sworn his life to protect. You never have to walk alone or drive anywhere. You’re no longer even obligated to worry about money anymore because he’s already throwing his card at you. And he will always and forever be your number one protector. He will defend you when no one else will, and he’ll be proud of it. Because he’s proud of you.

So when you get concerned stares and hear hushed whispers from the people around you, it doesn’t even bother you. Because you’d have it no other way. Not like Sukuna would let you, anyway.

Re-post from old acc

[crazylazydaizzzy]

Firelord!Zuko x servant!reader

a/n: as promised, heres the (so far) poll winner's headcanons! happy reading ˃ᴗ˂

You grew up running around the hallways in secret of the other servants and guards, playing with Zuko when your mom would be working as firelord Ozai’s personal servant. You remember Ursa hushing both of your laughter when she'd notice other royal guards and servants around, protecting you from punishment with Zuko clasping his palm around your mouth, pressing your back into him, holding your laughter from bubbling out as he fights his own giggles.

…..............................…

When firelord Ozai was still on the throne, and you were still assigned to Azula, your life was closer to hell than anything. Azulas relentless picking and harass, merciless physical reprimanding’s left marks on your body.

Zuko noticed. Of course he did. He always noticed the small details about you.

He humbly begged his father to reassign you to his wing of the royal palace, grasping for believable excuses to why that would be more 'fruitful' than you tending to his sister.

…..............................…

His hands disappear into the sleeves of his robes, eyes searching yours as he takes the lead into his private royal garden, not needing to look over his shoulder to know youre following behind. You’ve done this countless times before by now for him to know.

It’s always under the excuse of him ‘possibly needing to rearrange things in the garden’. After all, ‘a firelord is above dirtying his hands with soil’, or so he claims. Always when the starts are out to play in the night sky, never in daylight.

You end up walking down the stone path leading to his favorite willow tree. Flashes of images you recall of you and Zuko running around this same tree when his mom the firelady had newly planted it in place.

A pretty weeping willow, with fireflies fussing around its leaves like fairy lights hanging from the tree’s tips. There, you stand in silence, his eyes closed with his hands behind his back, standing a little too close by your side.

A firelord and his favorite servant watching the fireflies dance around the weeping willow tree, the night breeze raking through the draping leaves.

…..............................…

Firelord Zuko would request you to personally dress him up for all formal occasions, having grown used to your careful, contained, and modest touches. Every time your fingertips would brush against his shoulders, midriff, or especially his lower abdomen while you tied his robes in place with a belt, he’d feel his skin burn on fire from the simple small touches of yours.

Even a firelord who derives his powers from heat can’t handle the scalding kindling your touch ignites in him. It’s like a drug. Every day he looks forward to the nighttime when you’d change his clothes; every night he longs for the morning to come for you to dress him back up again.

…..............................…

He would only accept tea brewed under your supervision. “It tastes just like Uncle’s tea”, he’d say with a content look in his eyes. It was him – Uncle Iroh – that taught you how to make his infamous tea when he used to come for visits at the palace. You doubt Zuko has forgotten about those sweet, small moments shared between you two in childhood.

…..............................…

Stepping into his private chamber after getting a beating from the head servantlady, your eyes stay on the tiled floors. Holding out a tray in your hand, you hiss when you accidentally spill his cup of tea on your arm. Bowing down to fetch the clattering teacup, he stops you mid-reach, only to yank you back up by your wrist.

You’re quick to apologize for ‘ruining his morning tea’, the words falling onto deaf ears. His eyes are burning into yours, flickering down onto where the hot content scalded your skin.

Slowly his fingers slithered their way up your sleeve, pushing the fabric higher up, exposing more of your arm.

“My lord-!” you try yanking your arm, but to no vail. Heat burns in your face at his squinting eyes falling onto the burn mark just over your forearm.

“Did you burn yourself?” he asks, paying no mind to his spilled tea, or how its dirtying his otherwise pristine chambers, or even how he’s touching a commoner like you – a servant, at that.

“I apologize, I spilled your tea all over myself” he hums, skimming his fingertips tenderly over the burn mark.

His eyes flick back up to yours, dancing around your face. “This is no mere burn mark” his voice is low, eyes squinting ever so slightly at you – prompting you to speak.

“…”

“What’s this? How did you get this?” he questions further, his grip tightening around your wrist, stinging a little with its intensity “Who did this to you?”

After knowing the truth behind the burn mark on your arm, about how the head servantlady used a hot pan to ‘teach you a lesson’ after spilling milk on the kitchen floor, he immediately rushes out of his chambers to bark orders at the guards.

“Prepare a hot balloon and send Katara here. Right this instant”

He still notices the small things about you, even now that you’re no longer kids, with him having bigger responsibilities and an entire kingdom to rule.

Katara won’t let him off the hook easily when she hears about why he brought her here and for who, but he has more important matters at hand now than protecting his pride and honor. You.

[r0seyposey]

can someone write catboy!gojo x puppygirl!reader 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂 hello👀👀👀 chat am i muted👀👀👀👀👀

[mitchythedrawer]

Bad puppy

[paperellina]

distracting toji while he's on the phone...♡ (rough!toji x sweet!fem reader)

tojis halfway through a phone call when you climb onto the couch beside him, immediately curling into his side while he keeps talking, one arm stretched across the back of the cushions behind you and his phone pressed to his ear.

its something about money, something about work, something thats got his brows pulled together while he listens with that oh so familiar rough expression.

"yeah, I heard you," he mutters "then tell 'im I aint payin extra."

meanwhile, youre completely occupied with him.

your fingers find the side of his hair first, gently combing through the shorter strands near his temple while your cheek rests against his shoulder. toji keeps listening while you continue absent mindedly playing with him. your hand drifts lower, tracing the line of his jaw before finding his collar, smoothing it down and then fiddling with it again for no reason other than you just felt like touching it.

"because that aint what we agreed on." he says into the phone, voice steady despite the fact youve now moved on to his hands.

you turn one of them over in your lap, running your thumb along old scars and rough knuckles, tracing every line in his skin with a quiet concentration while the conversation continues.

the man on the other end keeps talking, and toji tries listening.

then your fingers slide to the rolled sleeves of his top, adjusting them before trailing slowly down his forearm, following the muscle there with light touches that dont mean much to you and mean everything to him.

his jaw tightens slightly. "yeah," he mutters into the phone, "mhm"

by now youve found his hand again, interwining your fingers with his, turning them, tracing the shape of his thumb while leaning a little more heavily into his side.

youre not even looking at him, youre just happy sitting there, all soft and sweet, quietly occupying yourself with whatever part of him happens to be within your reach.

the silence on the other end of the call stretches.

"...you still there?" the guy asks.

toji blinks once, realizing he hasnt heard a godamn thing for the last minute. his eyes drop to you where youre curled against him, happily playing with his fingers while resting your cheek on his shoulder.

"yeah." he says "keep talkin."

but his free hand is already settling over yours, thumb brushing across your knuckles while he looks down at you for a second longer than necessary, then he leans over and presses a rough distracted kiss against the top of your head without interrupting the call, squeezing your hand once before settling back into the couch.

toji still isnt listening to the man on the phone, not with you tucked into his side playing with his hair, his sleeves, his hands, every soft little touch way too distracting.

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© 2026 paperellina - all rights reserved. do not plagiarise, translate, or feed into any form of ai.

[uzugeto]

CUT THAT ALWAYS BLEEDS

geto suguru swallowed malicious beings, forced himself to accommodate to humanity’s evil desires in spite of the awful taste that lingered on his tongue. what he would not allow, however, was for his daughter to go through the same thing.

PAIRING: suguru geto x fem reader

CONTENT WARNINGS: SFW but i’d prefer minors don’t interact with my account. existence of curses/canon divergence. angst. hurt with some comfort. main character death. suguru geto being a girl dad.

jujutsu society is cruel and unjust.

children are reduced to being worth what technique they had the fortune of being born with, of how much cursed energy flowed through their veins. their innocence, empathy, and kindness were often times stripped away throughout the years, experiencing how cruel humanity and curses alike could be. they were left jaded—only the husk of what once was remaining in place.

it’s only then that they’re shaped into the perfect weapon, contributing to a system that treats them like a cog in a machine. irrelevant and replaceable. into savoring every last minute of youth, squeezing years worth of memories and relationships into small pockets of time before they’re gone. before they’re only left with a bitter feeling of regret upon their last breath.

suguru could never see his daughter as a weapon, as something to hone and train to fight against a useless, meritless cause.

loud wails shook the otherwise empty halls of the temple, tiny body covered in vernix caseosa, waxy underneath his fingertips. she trembled against his chest, eyes wide and alert as she looked up at him. suguru felt the weight of the universe in that little stare, felt.. complete in a way he hadn’t before.

“nothing short of perfection. just like her mother,” he murmured, walking over to your bedside. a few nurses stepped in through the doors, gazes stuck to the floor as they went over to clean you up. suguru placed your daughter in your tired arms, recognition immediately settling on her face. she didn’t cry, didn’t fuss. simply looked at you like you were her whole world.

you cleared your throat, voice hoarse as you spoke, “she’s beautiful.” as gently as he could, suguru slowly dragged a rag across your forehead. wiping away the sweat that dribbled down your face. the quiet shuffling of the nurses moving around quickly becomes background noise, your focus on the angel in your arms.

wide, violet eyes, much like the ones you’d fallen in love with oh so long ago, ones that you’d looked into while promising to be there in sickness and in health, stare back. you swear you fall in love all over again while staring at your daughter. she doesn’t latch onto her nipple easily, but when she does, she’s quite greedy.

tiny razor sharp nails dig into your skin as her eyes flutter shut, suckling as if she’d been starved. exhaustion settles deep within your bones, a good exhaustion upon seeing that your daughter was well, that she was healthy—but one that leaves you tired and worn out nonetheless.

suguru doesn’t hesitate in taking the baby in his arms, seeing just how close you were to falling asleep. how utterly exhausted you were, melting into the sheets below. “rest. you deserve it,” he whispered, pressing a small kiss on your forehead.

he’d take care of her—he hadn’t dealt with nearly as much as you had in these last few months. hadn’t been as sleep deprived. you deserved the world and more for bringing his world to light, and if all you needed was time to sleep? well, he’d gladly comply.

suguru geto untied his robes with nimble fingers, neatly folding them and placing them on a plastic chair next to the couch. he stripped away his shirt, revealing years’ worth of scars littered throughout his body. some new, the flesh still raised and puffy, and some old: faded into silver, flattened marks across his skin.

however, the one he was most self conscious about was the x on his chest. a cruel reminder of a time he’d been too vulnerable, too simple minded to understand true danger, too weak. suguru didn’t take his shirt off often, didn’t want to have to face the gruesome mark. but, he let his daughter settle against his chest, warmth wrapping around her small body like a blanket.

“you’re good with her,” you noted through your exhaustion, a fond expression taking place as you watched them. how comfortable your daughter seemed against him, her tiny fingers wrapping around one of his. her breaths slowly began to even out with each rock, a yawn bigger than her leaving her lips. it didn’t take long for her to fall asleep, curled up against the scar on his chest.

what was once a cruel reminder was now a place of comfort for his newborn.

and while instinct had kicked in almost immediately, suguru was still afraid. afraid of not being there to protect his daughter when she needed, afraid of messing up and having her resent him. but somehow, just looking down at her, everything slowly started to make sense. “she makes it easy to want to be good.”

the words fell into a quiet room. you and your daughter had fallen asleep, peacefully resting after the eventful afternoon that you’d shared. from your strain to bringing her out into the world to her struggling to get out, needless to say—the two of you were exhausted. suguru didn’t fall asleep just yet, alert in case either of you needed anything.

hands that once massacred a village in cold blood for the sake of protecting two little girls, that unleashed cursed spirit after cursed spirit to wreak havoc amongst the townsfolk were nothing short of gentle in the way that he treated his little family.

jujutsu society spread the news quickly four years ago: painting him as the worst curse user in existence upon the village’s extermination. demanding that he be killed if he were ever to be encountered. he was cold and precise in the way that he handled meetings—in the way that he treated his members. giving them just enough hope and enough of a glimpse of salvation that they were begging at his feet with bills in hand for the following scraps.

he was a different man when he came back home.

overbearing, perhaps. but nothing short of devoted—making sure that you and your daughter were satisfied at the cost of draining his members’ pockets. you mentioned something was bothering you? he’d have it fixed before you would have to deal with that issue again. your daughter wanted a new bike? she got it by the end of the day.

it wasn’t just the material stuff, either. you weren’t useless, much less after child birth of all things—immediately pushing yourself into working after you’d been cleared by the nurses. while suguru knew he couldn’t stop you, that didn’t mean he was there to see you overexert yourself. “take a rest, my love,” he’d say, hands gently rubbing against your shoulder blades. he wouldn’t stop until you finally relented, taking a what he believed was a well deserved break.

and with your daughter, great things were welcomed and encouraged, but they were never expected. there was never the expectation that she’d become a sorcerer when the age hit, that she’d have to fight against spirits she didn’t want to. suguru still took the time to train with her whenever a meeting didn’t run too long, teaching her how to defend herself—how to throw a punch without injuring her fist, how to throw someone to the ground.

“how’d i do?” she’d come up to him with a toothy grin, sweat dripping down her forehead. suguru would pass her a bottle of ice cold water, easing her into taking small sips of it before responding, “you did great. you’re gonna beat your old man in no time.” that got a little giggle in response, his daughter shaking her head.

“my dad’s the strongest there is,” she’d say with a grin, self assured that alone was fact.

the first time that suguru geto’s daughter had absorbed a cursed spirit, she was six. barely aware of her own technique, but slowly starting to become conscious of it. techniques were often as simple as breathing, simply being able to do the act, but she quite hadn’t gotten the hand of how to manage it just yet.

it’d been a simple walk, the little girl curiously strolling through temple grounds, autumn leaves crushing beneath her feet. a wind blew past, rattling trees in its wake. it wasn’t the first time she’d felt a malevolent spirit anchored towards her body, but it was the first time that she’d been alone to deal with it. they usually never dared to approach when suguru was around.

the orb landed like acid against her tastebuds, warm tears streaking her cheeks. it burned upon going down her throat, tasted wretched and disgusting. her body wretched and curled, wanting to reject the foreign object and spit it back out. still, no matter how much her body didn’t want to, her mind wouldn’t let go—forcing her to swallow it down.

he wished he could tell her that it got better as time went on. it didn’t. the taste of shit and vomit never eased, no matter how many curses were absorbed. no matter how many times he tried desperately to scrape his tongue clean, how many times he’s tried to mask the taste with a bag of overly salted chips. the rancid taste remains long after, the sense of dread clinging on just as stubbornly.

so instead, suguru geto knelt down and gently placed a hand on her cheek. “look at me,” his voice was nothing but a lulling whisper, soothing your daughter’s distraught and wiping her tears away with the pads of his thumbs. “you are not a weapon and i am not expecting you to act like one. there’s nothing you have to do that you don’t want to do.”

she nodded her head once, leaning into his touch. her tiny hands wrapped around his stomach, head pressed against his chest. “then why do you do it?” she whispered through choked tears. a simple, innocent question. suguru’s hand rubbed against her back, thinking of his answer. it’d never been much of a decision at first. wanting to help humankind in whatever way he could, saving those who couldn’t save themselves.

then, it became an obligation to destroy the very thing he’d once sworn to protect. stocking up his arsenal with special grades, grade ones, grade twos when the time came for his attack against jujutsu high. to ensure that this burden, the disgust that he had to stomach, would be his and his alone.

“it’s something i need to do. to ensure you don’t have to, or that your mother doesn’t need to put herself in danger.” the memory of you—attacked by a special grade cursed spirit still plagued his nightmares. blood dripped from a gash on your stomach, pooling around the ground around you. it was a simple mission—nothing more than a third grade yaga had said.

he never wanted to see you again in that condition—desperately clinging on to stay alive, your breathing ragged, your hands cold to the touch. he knew you were capable—knew that even though the special grade put up a good fight, you managed to put it down. still, he didn’t want to see you planning on the end of your life in your mid twenties again.

“and sometimes you get cool stuff like this.” a large portal stretches out behind his back, white scales gleaming against sunlight as rainbow dragon’s summoned upon command. it stretches out behind him, long (maybe 20 feet) and majestic. she approaches him slowly, holding her hand out the way she would a stray dog.

rainbow dragon tentatively sniffs at her hand, leaning his head up against her touch. the rancid taste of the curse is quickly forgotten, soft giggles leaving her lips as she runs her fingers through the glimmering scales. “you can ride him, if you wish.” suguru hoists her up against the dragon’s back, long wings spanning across before taking flight.

loud laughter echoes throughout the skies as rainbow dragon takes her higher and higher, its body languid as it follows her commands. it glides between trees seamlessly, moving against the wind as if it were a delicate dance. whatever fear she’d had quickly dwindled down—handling the dragon as if she’d had years of experience.

“thank you, mr. dragon.” she places a small kiss on top of its head upon being put on the ground, running back up to her father. “did you see me? i was like wayyyy up there!” she pointed up to the sun before continuing to ramble, “it was so much fun, my heart was like racing!” it reminded him of the times you’d ramble about something you’d enjoyed—how animated you’d get.

suguru took her out to get crepes from takeshita street before the shops closed for the day in an attempt to cheer her up even further, navigating through the alleyways with ease. a golden bell dings overhead, announcing their presence to the employee at the front. “what would you guys like today?”

he lets her order the sweetest item on the menu without complaint. something to ease whatever taste lingered on her tongue. suguru took something simple, taking a seat across from her on a table. it was a quiet for a minute, peaceful. the few stragglers that were around the shop left as closing time quickly approached.

then she broke the silence. “who’s the white haired guy with the blindfold?” she questioned between bites, powdered sugar sticking to the corners of his mouth with each word. “i saw him in some of the pictures you stored away.”

“he is—” suguru awkwardly cleared his throat, “—was my best friend. the one and only friend i’ve really had. he’s the strongest.”

“ooo, can i meet him someday?” she chimes with a smile, taking a large bite out a juicy strawberry. suguru takes a napkin, lightly wiping away at the juice dribbling down her chin before uttering, “we don’t talk much anymore.”

—

war’s declared against jujutsu high in the following days—set for december 24th. the night parade of a hundred demons. there’s no way to keep track of how many cursed spirits roam the streets of shinjuku, each one more threatening than the last. everyone had a job to do, someone to deal with and defeat.

except.. it doesn’t work out. you feel the shift in the air as soon as it happens, as soon as you can’t feel suguru’s energy. the plan had been crazy at best, a suicide mission at worst. but you, in spite of yourself, you believed that your husband’s conviction was enough to pull this off. spirits are exorcised, members that once vowed their lives to the cause quickly run away, and you can’t bring yourself to move.

can’t bring yourself to accept the fact that your husband’s dead—that all the plans you’d made about welcoming another baby into the family were now ruined. that you’d have to continue living without him, that the smell of the incense he liked to burn and the smell of his cologne would fade away from your bedsheets sooner rather than later. even when satoru gojo confirms the news, you still can’t bring yourself to accept it.

the second time that suguru geto’s daughter absorbed a cursed spirit? he wasn’t there to protect her, to tell her that the duty of the world didn’t fall onto her shoulders.

the cold december wind was relentless, brutal as it hit through the sleeves of your sweater. your husband’s lifeless body was slowly put down into the ground, your grip around your daughter’s hand tightening. suguru geto had failed in his mission and it was up to her to take the mantle despite how hard he’d tried otherwise.

taglist: @suguruss1ut @sextier @mimzi24 @bygeto @outpostsworld + link to join

[remslumber]

the fear of fire - firelord zuko

all firelord zuko could focus his gaze on was your neck. the last time he had seen the dull red mark, it was covered in bandages. you still remember the day it happened, ten years ago.

notes: contains some depictions of gore, burns, and violence. overall pretty fluffy with some angst. fem!reader. no proofreading sorry guys this man inspired me to write at twelve million words per hour.

-

all you could feel was the harsh pulse of your own heartbeat coming from your neck. you wish the beating came from your carotid, but it came from the hand shaped burn that now covered the right side of your neck and the connecting point to your shoulder. the green crystals of the catacombs shine above you, but you can’t focus on them well enough to admire them. aang had just been thrown back by azula when she had shifted her gaze to you and katara. you had been fighting against her using your earth bending, but your senses were nowhere near as sensitive as toph’s. you couldn’t even feel when zuko came up behind you, gripping your shoulder to pull you back. he used that same hand to let out a burst of fire that seemed to shock even himself; you went crashing into one of the stone walls of the cave, then fell to the ground. 

your neck was raw. the skin covering it now charred and flaked, exposing the slick under layer of cells and blood. you’re able to peel your eyes open to see zuko. he is standing, watching. azula yells something towards him that you can't make out, it takes him a second to start running toward her, back to the fight with aang. you can faintly see katara fall after one of azula’s attacks. the last you remember was the entrance of the dai li surrounding katara as she tries to get back up. 

waking up on a fire nation ship was… terrifying to say the least. not to mention the thick layer of bandages that covered your neck and shoulder. you felt like you could barely move your head. sokka was the first person you saw when you woke after three days in a coma. “thank goodness, you’re alive.” he said, you tried to push yourself up on the cot you were laying on, but you were still weak. sokka helped push you up from your back as to not disturb the bandages. “katara tried to heal you, but she had to use the spirit water on aang.” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “is everyone okay?” you managed to ask, your voice raspy. “aang… hasn’t woken up yet.”

it took three more weeks for him to wake up, even longer for the plan on the day of the black sun to come together. the time in the fire nation passed too fast for your liking, and the feeling that the end was soon caused your anxiety to heighten as you stayed at the western air temple. the fight in the crystal catacomb gave you a sense of your own weakness, mortality. 

zuko’s arrival after being beaten by the fire nation only heightened those feelings. you hadn’t managed to bend properly with him still around, his presence only made your burn throb more. it was still firmly wrapped in cloth bandages, barely scarring over in the past month. when aang had asked you and toph your opinions on letting him stay with the group after he defeated the assassin tracking you, you only gave a nod after toph said she’d get back at him. even with apologies from him to both you and toph, you couldn’t help the feeling of fear that consumed you when he was firebending with aang. 

it’s only when zuko and aang returned from the firebending masters did your tension start to lessen. it had taken you a while to get back to feeling comfortable around fire, but something you couldn’t handle was the freezing nights at the western air temple, sucking up your fear was a necessity. something you didn’t expect to be comforted by, though, was the warmth of the tea that zuko had brewed every night. he’d sometimes tell stories of his uncle, or poorly thought out jokes. it helped. it made the fire feel more human. it made the skin on your neck and shoulder cool down. helping sokka bring back suki his father, then avenging katara’s mother with her made it difficult to ignore his changing. 

a few days before the arrival of sozin’s comet, you had spoken to him maybe a handful of times. it was a warm night at the fire lord’s beach house when he sat next to you at the shoreline. your scar didn’t throb. the rest of the team was sleeping inside, in a food coma as a result of watermelon juice and barbecued veggies. even with the heat of the island, you had your bandages on. 

“is your neck… healing well?” he asked without looking toward you. “uh, yeah. it just needs a few more weeks. i’m trying to keep it clean.” you responded. it was a complete lie. in full honesty, katara said you could stop wearing the bandage about a week prior. you wanted to keep the scar to yourself for now. the area was pulled taut as the fresh layer of new skin covered what once was a mass of char. you felt yourself sweat through the bandage a bit. he turns to look at you, his hand balled into a fist in the sand, “i can’t tell you how sorry i am.” his eyes shift to the bandage. 

he was never the best at apologies, but you could tell he was trying. you were never the best at comfort, but you could also try. “you were doing what you thought was right. we all make mistakes.” “doing that to someone is never right. i regretted it as soon as i touched you.” he leans his body away from you. “well, you just gotta make sure you don't do it again, i’ll beat your ass now that my bending’s gotten better.” that actually got a chuckle out of him. “if that ever happens, i hope you do.”

he spoke of how his father was planning on burning down the earth kingdom, your home, a day later. although you were separated from your family at a young age, the people in the earth kingdom and the fighters that trained you were the closest people you had in your life. training amped up tenfold. aang disappeared, you all found zuko’s uncle, the comet changed the sky into a deep orange, you were split up from the group and caught in a fight against azula with katara and zuko, and then, suddenly.

aang won. 

the fire lord could no longer bend. aang put out the fires at the edge of the earth kingdom and you reunited with the rest of the team. you stayed with toph at zuko’s coronation and to the celebration afterwards. the fire nation regalia laid thinly on your body, made for the heat. it was a high enough neck to cover what you wanted to be covered. everyone was in the traditional deep red for the celebration. 

“so, do we have to call you ‘my lord’ now?” sokka asked, leaning on zuko’s shoulder. “please, never call me that.” zuko seemed to cringe. “then what is your first plan of action, firelord zuko?” you asked, making toph cackle. zuko would have to get used to it at some point. “i’ve already set up meetings with the other nations to start rebuilding our relationships with them. i’m just hoping they’ll believe in me.” “they will,” aang says. 

-

ten years later proves that they did believe in him. the fire nation has majorly supported the other nations in their efforts to rebuild after the hundred years war. zuko has worked with royals as well as local communities to establish what is needed for their homelands as well as what is necessary for the construction of republic city. aang and katara have worked on peace treaties between all nations in connection with the new firelord. toph has set up a strong law enforcement team to protect against those that still may believe in what ozai once tried to enforce. sokka has become the new chieftain of the southern water tribe. 

you, over the past ten years, have made an effort to find your family. and you did. only katara knew of this venture, and that you located your grandmother using old earth kingdom records tied to your last name. you found an orphan with the same birthdate as you and tied it back to two deceased parents. you almost gave up until you found one last grandparent–your mothers mother. she lived in the mountains in solitude, away from any main city, but she said she would recognize you anywhere. 

you were shocked to receive the invitation to this fire nation event celebrating the ten year anniversary of the end of the war. first, you didn’t know if any of the original team knew your location. spending ten years trying to find your one last living relative did not give you a lot of free time to stay in contact with anyone, which you regretted deeply. second, you didn’t expect fire nation soldiers to knock on the door of your grandmother's small cabin in the early morning, nearly scaring the spirit out of her. 

one of the soldiers said your name as you opened the door, ready to use your bending to send them all the way back to the fire nation, but you pause at his next words, “we are delivering a letter from firelord zuko, we apologize for the early interruption, he asked for us to get this to you as soon as possible.” the soldier put the letter in your hands and gave you a stiff bow. both of them left swiftly, leaving you and your grandmother shocked. 

“the firelord, huh?” your grandmother looked at you with a naughty look in her eye. “spirits, please stop.” “haven’t you seen him lately, dear? handsome boy.” she said, smirking. “how have you even seen him? we don’t get any mail up here.” “you think i spend all of my time out in that garden? the city is a beautiful place to explore, even if i would despise living in it.” you decide to ignore the information that was just thrown at you to open the letter in your hands. there is a large chunk of cursive on the page written in red ink. it addresses you by name first, some of it is a little messy, but it looks like it took some time to write.

“i hope that the delivery of this letter did not startle you. you certainly did not make it easy to find your whereabouts over the years, but i felt it was important to share this event with you. katara was gracious enough to talk about your mission to find your loved ones after the end of my fathers rule. i admire you deeply for dedicating yourself to this for ten long years.

i am writing to invite you to the decennial celebration of the end of the war at the fire nation palace. i understand completely if you would rather spend time with your grandmother (this invite is extended to your grandmother as well), but i hope you do consider being in attendance. everyone from our original group will be in attendance and it would feel like something would be missing without you. 

please do not feel as if you are being forced to come. i understand that the whole ‘firelord’ title can make official invitations intimidating, but i would appreciate writing with you like this just as i would seeing you in person. 

i hope to see you there, 

zuko” 

“a special invite from the firelord himself.” your grandmother reads the letter over your shoulder, “and he only signed it as zuko! no ‘firelord,’ no ‘lord,’ oh, you have to go!” she claps. for an old woman, her energy is out of this world. “i don’t even know how i would get down there on time, i don’t even have anything to wear.” you said, putting the letter down. “we have enough money saved to call a carriage, and i’m an old woman who has lived by herself for twenty years, you think i can’t sew? i have many traditional dresses in my closet, i can tailor it any way you’d like, you would just have to choose one.” she opens her closet door to show her collection of traditional earth kingdom gowns. their vintage designs and traditional fabrics almost seemed to shimmer in the early morning sun. you just smiled and nodded toward her, she jumped with excitement. 

-

now, standing at the foot of the fire nation palace, it is almost like all of your original confidence has washed away from your body. the carriage dropped you off just minutes ago, and yet you still haven't moved an inch. 

your dress was perfectly tailored, a silk green and gold gown. it is low cut, and you have finally stopped wearing bandages around your neck and shoulders. the scar was a mix of reds and browns, but had healed with only a slight difference in texture to your unharmed skin, you still wore a shawl to fight against the cool evening breeze outside. your grandmother even put some light makeup on your face and gave you her precious gold jewelry to wear for the night. in the carriage, you felt beautiful. as you stare up at the palace, knowing that everyone from your past is in that building, it all feels too much. 

ten years was too long of a time to not see any of your friends, though. instead of remaining stuck in fear, you made your way up the staircase into the bustling palace. music surrounded you along with warm firelights lining the walls. the main foyer was crowded with aristocrats and citizens alike. the first person you make eye contact with is aang. 

his eyes widen as he says your name, the woman in front of him turns around to look at you too, katara. you smile at them as they rush toward you. “it’s really you, oh my god.” katara says, pulling you into a hug, aang comes in for one next. “i’m so sorry about being in the mountains for so long. i’ve been catching up on lost time with my grandmother.” you take in both of their appearances in shock. aang has somehow grown taller than both you and katara, and katara has grown into a gorgeous woman. you notice something different about her, particularly her necklace. instead of her mothers, there sits a blue crystal with a combination of air and water nation symbols. 

“is that what i think it is?” you ask, looking deeper at the necklace. aang’s face bursts with red at the recognition. “we thought nobody would notice!” katara says, “notice what?” another person cuts across the foyer, you instantly recognize the voice as sokka, toph is beside him as he comes up. she is already smirking, probably from overhearing the conversation. katara’s eyes widen, aang splutters for a second before yelling out your name, “she thought nobody would notice her, can you believe it?” sokka instantly looks shocked as he looks at you and then pulls you into a hug. “holy shit, we didn’t think you’d come!” he pulls back but still has his hands on your shoulders. “neither did i, to be honest.” you said back. “you finally came in! i heard you thank your carriage driver outside like twenty minutes ago.” toph hits your shoulder. “your senses can’t be that good.” katara furrows her eyebrows at toph, “it’s been ten years, my senses are only getting better and better.” 

conversation flows like it did ten years ago, like it did before the war. you realize how much you missed all of your friends. you loved your grandmother, but this little found family of yours was still by your side, even after a decade. 

the sounds of drums interrupt your conversation as guards come up to the top of the grand staircase. the drums stop as the main guard begins to speak. “please join us in welcoming firelord zuko.” the guard says. the foyer erupts into applause as zuko stands atop the staircase and gives a bow. 

he looks so different, his hair is long, near his waist at this point. he has grown much taller over the years, and he looks older. the weight of war cleanup and firelord duties has taken a toll on him. his eyes are slightly sunken in, but despite this, he looks happy. he looks good. 

he gives a greeting toward the crowd and invites everyone to keep celebrating before descending the staircase. aang rushes to greet him first, still pulling him into a bear hug despite both of them being far too large for it not to hurt anymore. sokka and toph make jokes about the introduction while katara laughs. despite the chaos, he looks at you. 

the shock on his face was astounding. he looks both happy and stunned at the same time, but he smiles at you nonetheless. “oh, yeah, we brought a surprise for you, dude.” sokka says, gesturing to you over his shoulder. you are pulled into another hug, this time from the firelord, who approached you at a shocking speed. despite his put-together facade, he really seems to act just like aang in terms of excitement. he pulls away from you, “i am so happy you came, did you bring your grandmother?” you laugh a bit but shake your head, “i tried getting her to come, she said parties aren't her thing.” 

even after ten years, they were all still here. you couldn’t believe you hadn’t followed up with anyone for that amount of time, you couldn’t believe how fast time had even passed after the end of the war. the night nearly flew by, and suddenly the room was getting stuffy with the amount of bodies that filled up the palace. you stepped out into the garden for some cool air, slipping the shawl off your shoulders and sitting on a small bench by the fountain. 

you heard him before you saw him, the thick fabric of the firelord robes made it hard to hide from anybody as it rubbed against itself. “what are you doing out here?” zuko asks from behind you, coming to sit next to you. “got a bit too hot. i havent properly partied in a decade, y’know?” you smiled back at him. “that is a fire nation issue, we tend to run hot.” he looks at you properly. 

he takes you in little by little, maybe you notice, maybe you don’t. from your hair, to the slope of your nose, to your lips, to your chin. 

to your neck. 

all fire lord zuko could focus his gaze on was your neck. the last time he had seen the dull red mark, it was covered in bandages. in the dark of the night it appeared more purpley. it was very faintly shaped like a jagged oval. like his hand. the previous smile that was on his face has disappeared as he looks away from you. you notice it. 

“why, um, why did you end up coming?” he asks, looking down at his hands that are now clasped together. he still isn't looking at you. “just wanted to see people that i cared for again.” he nods, “i think they really appreciate that. i mean, katara and aang haven’t stopped talking about you over the years. toph missed you so much-” “that includes you, zuko.” he closes his mouth and his eyes still shift on the grass covering the garden ground. 

“you don’t have to say that, you know? i know i’m the firelord but i’m not going to, like, force you to be friends with me. especially not after what i did.” he can’t look at your face, so he settles by looking at your hands that were resting on your thighs. 

“can i tell you something?” you ask, “anything,” he responds, so fast it almost shocks both of you. “for the longest time after… that fight, i was scared of fire. it didn’t matter how cold it was or how numb my fingers were, i was just too nervous to be around it. i was terrified.” he looks away from you again, but you continue. “i had made this connection in my head that you and fire were one, one being made to try and hurt my friends.” he nodded, you could barely even hear him breathe. “when you came to the western air temple saying you wanted to help aang with his fire bending, i felt myself really start panicking.” you had to remind yourself to breathe while talking to him.

“but then you started making us warm tea and staying up to kindle the fire, and even trying to keep appa warm even though he is covered in fur. i felt myself getting more and more comfortable with the presence of fire. maybe even sheltered by it.” that made zuko let out a breath. “i realized the connection i made between you, fire, and danger was unfair. we are just products of our environments, and during that fight, reacting with fire is what you were taught. somehow, during everything, you also taught me that fire isn’t always dangerous and uncontrolled, it’s also warmth and protection.” you finished. 

“you are being too nice for this situation right now.” zuko says looking back at you, from your eyes, to your neck, and back again. you sigh and look away this time, “i know that this is your first time seeing it, firelord, but it has been a part of me for ten years. i have taken all the time i have needed to heal and grow from the war and this is just a mark of the past. it means nothing about your future or our future.” 

“what i have heard from everyone is that you are a good firelord, a kind firelord, and i have a feeling that is a fact. you have grown into a great man and probably the best firelord your nation has known. your past doesn’t define you, zuko, especially when you have made such a change for the world.” 

judging by the sheen covering his eyes, you got through to him. he looks away to wipe his face with his robes, but turns to look at you in the eyes. he smiles, “will i have to ask you to stop calling me ‘firelord’ for the rest of my life?” you laugh, “oh, definitely.” “thank you for coming tonight. i’ll be honest, i couldn’t sleep with how anxious i was at the thought of seeing you again.” he said, there was a tint of pink coming up his neck to the bottom of his cheeks. 

one thing you weren't, after all these years, was a coward. “hm, do i make the firelord nervous?” his skin heated up. you couldn’t tell if it was from a blush or if it was a result of his bending. you leaned closer to him, “thank you for inviting me and, y’know, finding me.” he splutters a bit, “oh! it was nothing, yeah, no problem. easy, easy work. yeah.” you brought your lips to his cheek, giving him a soft peck that made him freeze. your lips felt warm from the heat of his skin as you pulled away. 

he was still looking at you, eyes widened, as he touched his cheek. he looks down at his hand before it makes its way to cup the side of your face, “can i?” he asks, you just nod. he pulls you into a kiss, soft and deep. his hand is warm as it shifts its way to the back of your head, pulling you closer. his other hand grips your waist. you hold onto the front of his robes as he separates your lips with his tongue, making you gasp. 

“zuko! did you find her- oh!” you hear sokka’s voice as a door slides open. you and zuko separate quickly, not looking at each other or sokka, standing in the doorway. “ten years and you couldn’t wait one more night? damn. well, i’ll leave ya to it.” sokka’s eyes light up mischievously as he shuts the door and enters back into the palace. 

“he is going to tell everyone in there.” you said finally looking back at zuko. he was already staring at you. he puts a hand on the back of your neck to pull you in again, this time kissing up the area of your scar. he brings his lips up your jaw to your cheek, and finally to your lips. 

“let him.”

-

my laptop is alive and so am i!!!! i hope you guys enjoyed this, tbh i am in love with zuko once again (he got me as a kid AND as an adult now). i havent seen the leaked movie so i am bullshitting half of this fic tbh. anyways thanks for reading!

[yujislovey]

soft launch! ࣪ ˖ 𖦹°⋆

how jjk men would soft launch you!

ryomen sukuna

satoru gojo

suguru geto

kento nanami

toji fushiguro

choso kamo

[kkuma-roo]

Nerdhoererereeeee

[killfarrell]

ꨄ︎ ⁠it's moments like these where ⁠zuko, the respected firelord, completely feels utterly at peace peace. cw. fluff. suguru and zuko have the same haircare routines btw.

you're talking about something, a conversation you had with a merchant, or the state of the flower garden? he would be lying if he said he was paying attention to the words exiting your lips, not with the heavenly sensations he's currently experiencing by your hands.

your fingers are massaging soap into his scalp, expertly weaving through his dark strands to ensure every inch of his hair is cleansed of any sweat it may have collected throughout the day.

it's a task you handle with great care, you know zuko faces immense responsibility as a leader, pressure that he often tries to keep himself from confiding in you about, but you love your husband, and just as he does for you, you make sure to give him as much comfort as you can.

it's only when you the absent minded humming he was offering in response to your yapping seems to have stopped that you finally look down at his face, pausing your movements as your eyes soften at his sleeping face.

"zuko. zuko, wake up..."

he jolts awake, confused for a moment before his eyes lock on your perfect face and he offers a sheepish smile, "sorry, you can continue talking."

you smile, kissing your teeth playfully as you begin to rinse his hair, "you should pay more attention to your wife, firelord." you scold, though your eyes hold no malice.

he scoffs, his eyes closing once more, "yeah, yeah, hurry up, you? so we can go to bed and i can hold her."

©killfarrell. all rights are reserved to me and plagiarism is prohibited and will be reported. hope you guys liked it!

[singse]

18+ | aang x f!reader cw: voyuerism, outsider's perspective

It was a mistake—an accident.

A simple case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

All nations are aware of the Avatar's conduct and how he carries himself when in the public eye. He's seen as a pillar of hope for the world and has rightfully earned the title with how wonderful he is as a person. He's humble and kind while charismatic and approachable. Avatar Aang embodies all of what an Avatar should embody and the world is truly lucky to have him in their lifetime.

But mistakes reveal secrets that are best left under many, many layers.

Isla was supposed to have delivered fresh fruits to the Avatar's quarters as a way to further welcome him to their island. The platter was beautifully arranged and stacked high with an array of fruits that are his favourite and some native to their land. She made sure her clothes weren't rumpled, her hair was in place and her make-up well done because this was the Avatar. To approach him looking anything but put together would be a shame upon her house but also herself. It also didn't hurt that the Avatar was a very handsome young man and he just so happened to be looking for a wife.

It was an opportunity that shouldn't be missed and thus began Isla's journey to deliver the Avatar his gift. She rehearsed what she was to say during her walk towards his quarters, growing flustered in her very own fantasies as the imaginary Aang asked her to spend the rest of the evening with him. Isla was glad that no one was around to hear her giggling away as they'd surely find her to be delusional but they can't blame a woman for indulging in romantic daydreams.

But those romantic daydreams were shattered when loud moans filtered through the Avatar's door, partially muffled by the heavy wood. Loud moans accompanied by the frantic slapping of skin against skin and the filthiest squelches of a drenched cunt being thoroughly fucked. Isla stared at the door, wide-eyed in her shock, as she gripped the fruit platter tightly with her sweat-slick hands.

Surely, that wasn't the Avatar in there.

Surely, she had gotten the wrong room and it was someone else having an very arduous night with their lover.

Surely, it wasn't the Avatar who was—

"Aang!" A wrecked voice cried out his name followed by a string of sobs. "P-please, ah, I'm, ngh, I'm gonna cum—!"

"Again, my love?" Aang's voice flowed out, raspy and panting. "Good girl, sweetheart, this is gonna be your third one, huh? Gonna make a mess for me?"

"Yes, I'm gonna—!" There was a loud squelch chased by a choked hiccup. "Oh."

A deafening splash echoed throughout the corridor with another hitting the tiled floor like water gushing from a tap. There were no other noises but Isla didn't know if that was true as she was already rushing away, fruit platter almost spilling in her haste to flee. All with cheeks flushed, body heated and a damp patch between her thighs.

When asked why she didn't deliver the fruits, all Isla could say is that the Avatar was asleep before dropping the platter to spend a few minutes alone to calm down. Because what she had just witnessed was something life-changing and Isla needed to sort her thoughts out…among other pressing issues.

It had been a mistake.

A wrong place at the wrong time scenario that revealed more than she should have discovered.

But a few things have changed.

Avatar Aang is still a wonderful person and rightfully deserves to be called the pillar of hope. He's still humble and kind while charismatic and approachable. Avatar Aang still embodies all of what an Avatar should embody and the world is still truly lucky to have him in their lifetime.

But behind that innocently handsome face and disarmingly cute smile is a man who really, really knows what he's doing.

And does it well.

His wife is a very lucky woman.

[mochaization]

𖦹 your daughter fought another kid at the daycare ⋮ a gojo fluff fic.

♯ guess who is back 👀 from this request, thank you dear anon for requesting this, hope you enjoy it! the fic didn't meet my expectation but i hope y'all still like it 😔 love you guys!

water dripped from the edge of Satoru's umbrella as he followed you through the daycare's front door, shoes squeaking slightly against the floor. the building was quieter now that most of the kids had gone home.

your daughter sat alone in one of the tiny tables near the window. her arms crossed and her face scrunched into a glare.

Satoru leaned down beside you. "She looks just like you," he murmured.

you ignored him with an eye roll.

the teacher spotted the both of you and gave a small, tired smile.

"Thank you for coming," she said. "There was a little incident during art time."

"Little?" you repeated, eyeing your daughter, who sank lower into her chair.

the teacher sighed softly. "Another student commented on her drawing and she reacted.. physically."

"Physically? Like what?" you asked.

the teacher blinked at you. "She pushed another student."

"Oh."

beside you, Satoru crouched beside her chair immediately, resting his chin against his hand. "Okay, sweetie," he started. "In your defense, was he annoying?"

your daughter nodded without hesitation. "Really annoying!"

the teacher sighed again before gesturing toward the table nearby. "It started because of her drawing."

both you and Satoru looked toward the table at the exact same time. the drawing in question sat crumpled there. it was.. definitely something.

Satoru tilted his head slightly. "Is that supposed to be a cat?"

your daughter gasped. "It IS a cat!"

"Ohh," he nodded slowly. "Okay, i see the vision now."

you snorted loudly beside him.

"He laughed at it," your daughter continued. "And then he crumpled it!"

Satoru looked down at the wrinkled paper on table. then back at her. "... that's actually kind of disrespectful," he admitted.

she nodded vigorously. "He said it didn't even look like a cat!"

"It does look like a cat, sweetheart."

"It does?"

"Mhm," he picked up the paper, studying it for a moment. "A weird one."

"Dad!"

"But still a cat," he grinned.

you looked between the two of them and sighed. "Satoru."

"Right, my bad," he set the drawing down before crouching in front of your daughter again. "You still can't push people, though."

her shoulders immediately slumped.

"But he ruined it," she said quietly.

for the first time, she sounded more upset than angry. kids cried over things adult would forget in minutes. broken toy, lost crayon, a drawing they'd spent all afternoon.. to them, those things were important.

and Satoru noticed too.

"I know," he said softly.

Satoru reached over and cupped her cheek for a moment. "But next time," he continued. "You tell the teacher first."

"What if they're still mean?"

"Then you come tell me and mom."

your daughter's shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, the stubborn frown she'd been wearing started to disappear.

your daughter reached over and smoothed one of the crumpled corners of the drawing before clutching it against her chest.

"Can we frame this?" she looked up at him.

"Of course, sweetheart."

© mochaization 2026. DO NOT copy, reconstruct, reupload on any other platform, or feed my works to AI.

[rubyys-domain]

[CHAPTER TEN]

when FIRELORD ZUKO takes a liking to AVATAR AANG'S mysterious new BRIDE.

TORN BETWEEN TWO ROADS ! — aang x reader x zuko

PLOT. republic city is finally at peace, and for once, katara allows herself to hope—maybe now, after everything, she and aang can finally become something real. but when aang returns after eight months, he isn’t alone. he comes back with you at his side, introducing you as his wife. suspicious yet helpless, his friends do their best to welcome you, even as nothing about this sudden marriage makes sense. but while everyone else keeps their distance, one person doesn’t. and perhaps Zuko gets a little too comfortable with the avatar’s new wife.

CHARACTERS. AANG and ZUKO.

CHAPTER WARNINGS. 18+, mdni, angst, bad father, takes place 10 years after atla, age gaps, reader is 21, established relationship, fem reader, atla spoilers, no spoilers for legend of aang, not proofread.

(please check the story masterlist for the story warnings.)

WC. 5.2k

masterlist : story masterlist

chapter nine

a/n: if you hated the last chapter, you will despise this one.

When Gen had left, your mind had wandered everywhere except toward your rescue. You had not stood there praying for Aang or your father to find you.

The pain spreading through your body had already become too large to fight directly, and so your thoughts had drifted elsewhere, searching for anything that could keep you awake long enough to survive it.

You had thought about the estate.

About the servants whispering in the kitchens once the truth reached them, their voices trembling between disbelief and horror because Gen had belonged to this household nearly his entire life. 

He had grown up beneath the same rooftops, moved through the same halls, earned the manor's trust so completely that everyone had stopped noticing he was only a servant. 

The younger maids smiled whenever he spoke to them. Even your father had once claimed the boy carried more discipline than men twice his age.

You had wondered what would happen when all of that shattered.

How would they look at him once they learned what those careful hands had done to you? 

How would they reconcile the image of the calm, obedient boy who stood beside your brother throughout his life with the man who had stripped the daughter of the house of her dignity only hours later?

Your thoughts had circled every possibility.

Perhaps your father would have him arrested and dragged through the streets in chains so the people of Hujiang could spit at his feet. 

Perhaps the guards would beat him bloody before throwing him beyond the city walls. 

Perhaps your father himself would put a sword through his throat and send him into the afterlife, praying your brother's spirit would finish what remained.

Those thoughts had kept you conscious while your arms started to numb and the night began to fall. They had given you something to hold onto until Aang finally found you.

Yet the truth standing before you now looked nothing like the vengeance you had imagined.

The crack of the slap still rang inside your skull.

Your head had snapped to the side from the force of it, the taste of iron flooding your mouth while heat spread across your cheek. 

For a moment, you could only stare at the ground beneath you, unable to understand what had just happened, because your father had never struck you before. 

Not once in your life.

Slowly, your eyes lifted toward him, burning with tears that refused to stay contained because you had to swallow the bitter reality.

This was his reaction.

Not rage for what had been done to you, but only fury directed at you for daring to speak it aloud.

This was how he reacted to speaking your truth?

The moment your father spoke of Gen informing them of what had transpired, the very last thing you expected was to see Gen himself descend from one of the carriages moments later.

He looked devastated.

His eyes appeared swollen red beneath the torchlight while his trembling hands clutched tightly around the silks that had once covered your body, the same robes he himself had stripped from you hours earlier before abandoning them purposefully along the roads leading away from the marketplace.

The sight alone made something cold twist inside your stomach.

Then your father looked toward him, and in that instant, you understood.

Gen had already spoken first.

"He informed us that you and the Avatar had disappeared together for several hours!" Your father continued sharply, his voice lowered to avoid carrying toward all who stood nearby though the anger beneath it was undoubtedly heard by everyone/

"When neither of you returned at the promised hour, he set out searching for you himself. He claims he discovered your discarded robes abandoned along the roadside."

Your lips parted weakly as you attempt to defend yourself.

"That is not true..." You whispered.

Your father barely seemed to hear you.

"He returned to the estate in distress," he pressed on. "Terrified that harm had come upon you."

Harm.

The word nearly made you ill.

Because Gen had indeed looked distressed when he approached you within the marketplace earlier that afternoon. 

Panic had covered his expression so convincingly that concern seized you immediately the moment he reached your side, his voice hurried beneath the noise of the crowded merchant streets.

You could barely understand half the words leaving him.

He had kept glancing over his shoulder anxiously while insisting he needed to speak to you somewhere quieter. And when his hand wrapped urgently around your wrist to guide you away from the crowds, suspicion never once crossed your mind.

Not even once.

You remembered turning your head instinctively toward where Aang still stood nearby helping a merchant, ready to call out to him before following Gen any farther.

Then everything had happened at once.

Gen's hand hand covered your mouth, a cloth pressing against your face.

The unfamiliar scent had flooded your lungs that had made panic explode instantly through your body.

You had struggled desperately against him.

For nearly a full minute, you fought to pull free while your vision blurred unevenly around the crowded marketplace surrounding you both. Through the narrow opening between buildings, you could still see Aang searching frantically nearby, confusion already settling across his face upon noticing your disappearance.

You remembered trying to scream.

Trying to force your body toward him despite Gen's grip tightening harder each second.

Despite the ruckus, no one around you noticed.

The marketplace remained alive with merchants shouting over one another and customers crowding the stalls, far too distracted by entertainment and trade to pay attention to one frightened woman being dragged into a secluded alleyway.

You held onto hope for as long as you could.

Hope that Aang would look toward you, that he would notice.

Hope that he would turn around before the darkness swallowing your vision consumed you entirely.

But the last thing you remembered seeing before consciousness abandoned you was Aang disappearing farther into the marketplace searching for you in the wrong direction.

Everything after only came to you in fragments. You had felt the rough texture of an old robe being thrown over your body. The overwhelming dizziness stealing strength from your limbs.

And the horrible awareness of yourself being lifted helplessly onto one of the ostrich-horses, your unconscious body slumped against the very man who had done this to you.

Every part of it had been Gen.

Aang's attention remained fixed upon you even after your father pulled you away from his side.

Something about the way Lord Shuren held you unsettled him deeply. 

The older man's grip appeared far too harsh against someone already struggling to remain upright, and when you stumbled slightly due to the exhaustion weighing your body down, Aang instinctively stepped forward.

"Wait—! She can barely walk—"

His movement halted almost immediately once Prince Jinhai had stepped into his path.

The two guards accompanying the prince positioned themselves silently at either side of him while torchlight they held flickered across polished armor and embroidered royal silks, casting long shadows against the dirt roads.

"This has become a rather unfortunate turn of events." Prince Jinhai remarked calmly.

Aang reluctantly dragged his attention away from you, though even while facing the prince, his concern kept pulling toward where Lord Shuren had taken you farther beside the carriages.

"Is she going to be okay?" He asked honestly.

The question seemed to catch Prince Jinhai entirely off guard.

For the first time since Aang had met him, the carefully composed stoicism cracked across the prince's face before a brief laugh escaped him in genuine disbelief.

"It appears the two of you have grown rather close within a remarkably short amount of time." he observed, amusement still lingering faintly beneath his words. 

"Though perhaps you remain unaware that the lady is my betrothed."

"I know she is," Aang answered immediately. "And I'm not trying to—" He stopped himself with visible frustration before correcting his words properly. 

"I admire her. She's kind, and she helped me when she really didn't have to. But that's all."

That response seemed to surprise Prince Jinhai further. The prince studied him carefully before speaking once more, his amusement now subtle though no less formal.

"Then I confess myself somewhat confused."

Aang frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"I had understood Air Nomads to practice celibacy until marriage." Prince Jinhai continued thoughtfully. 

"Though I suppose your rather tragic circumstances may have altered certain customs over time."

Aang immediately disliked the direction of the conversation. Still, he forced himself to remain silent.

"Even so," the prince continued, "the lady ought to have exercised greater restraint despite her existing betrothal. This entire matter is deeply unfortunate for all involved."

Aang's confusion sharpened instantly.

"What are you talking about?"

Prince Jinhai looked genuinely puzzled by the question itself.

"You fled together, did you not?" he asked plainly. "Surely I need not pretend ignorance regarding what occurred afterward."

Aang stared at him, then realization struck against him and anger surged instantly through his chest.

"What?!" he exclaimed. "No! I didn't touch her—"

The rest of his words vanished beneath the sharp crack of a slap echoing through the night air.

The sound had silenced everything.

Aang and Prince Jinhai turned at the exact same moment alongside nearly every guard surrounding the carriages, their attention snapping immediately toward the source of the strike echoing through the outskirts.

Your father still stood before you with his hand outstretched from the impact.

Meanwhile, you remained frozen several steps away from him, one trembling hand clutching your cheek while shock spread visibly across your face.

The force of the slap had nearly knocked you sideways, and in your disorientation, your weakened fingers instinctively loosened around the red robes wrapped tightly across your body.

The fabric slipped from your shoulders at once enough for the thin inner robes beneath to become visible, the delicate material clinging unevenly against your body while the bruises scattered across your throat and chest revealed themselves in cruel clarity before everyone present.

You saw your father's expression darken instantly at the sight.

It wasn't disbelief or horror that struck his countenance. 

It was disgust.

The sneer curling faintly across his face struck harder than the slap itself.

Aang felt anger ripple through him instantly.

"Hey—!"

He moved without thinking.

The moment he stepped forward, Prince Jinhai's guards reacted immediately, both men crossing their spears sharply before him to block his path while the prince's calm voice followed only a second later.

"It would be wise not to interfere, Avatar Aang."

"He just hit her!" Aang snapped furiously, struggling against the crossed spears barring his path.

"Why aren't you stopping him?!"

Then his eyes caught movement near one of the carriages.

Gen.

The moment Aang saw him standing there clutching the discarded silks against his chest while avoiding everyone's eyes, something inside him twisted harshly making his snarl.

"You."

The word left him cold.

A burst of air exploded outward before either guard could react properly, the force sweeping both men entirely off their feet while their spears scattered uselessly across the dirt roads.

Several guards nearby shouted in alarm immediately, though Aang barely heard any of it while striding toward Gen with barely restrained fury.

Gen stepped backward instinctively.

Too late.

The earth beneath him had shifted with Aang's hands.

Stone and dirt surged upward around his ankles in one swift movement, hardening instantly around his legs before locking him firmly into place. Gen cried out sharply in panic the moment the earth constricted tighter around him, the sudden force wrenching him downward hard, making his collapse painfully onto his knees.

Aang stopped directly before him.

"You think you can do something like this and just stand here pretending to be innocent?!" He shouted, fury finally breaking openly through his voice. 

"She trusted you!"

Gen looked genuinely terrified.

The silks slipped from his grasp entirely while fear overtook his expression, his hands clawing uselessly against the hardened earth trapping his legs in place.

"I—Avatar—I swear—"

"What exactly were you planning to tell them happened inside that house?" Aang demanded, stepping even closer. 

"That she begged you to drag her there too?!"

"Release him at once, Avatar Aang!"

Lord Shuren's voice cut sharply through the chaos while he strode toward them from your side, fury and alarm both visible across his face.

Aang turned toward him in disbelief.

"Why?!" he exclaimed. "After what he did to your daughter, why would you want him walking free?!"

Lord Shuren stopped only a short distance away from Aang, anger still visible despite the effort he made to compose himself before the guards and the royal company surrounding them.

"That boy," he said sharply while motioning toward Gen's restrained form, "was the one who returned to the estate in panic once the two of you vanished. He came seeking aid while you remained absent for hours alongside my daughter."

Aang stared at him in disbelief.

"He was the one who—"

The words caught in his throat.

You stood only several feet away. Your trembling body, still wrapped in his robes, the bruises still fresh beneath them.

Aang could not force the words aloud while you remained there listening.

Then your voice broke through the silence instead.

"I speak the truth, Father. He was the one who touched me."

The words came quietly, trembling as if you already knew his response.

Tears continued slipping silently down your cheeks while your fingers clutched weakly around the slipping robes, your voice shaking harder with every word spoken toward the father refusing to look at you.

"Why will you not believe me?"

Shuren did not answer. Not even once did he turn toward you.

Several steps away, Prince Jinhai had approached closer during the confrontation to overhear everything despite Shuren's earlier attempts to keep the matter contained. 

The prince remained silent, though the slight narrowing of his eyes revealed a genuine fracture in his calm composure.

Still, it was Shuren who spoke again.

"I do not know what precisely my daughter has told you," he said coldly toward Aang, "but that boy has served my household faithfully for years. She ought to know better than to cast such monstrous accusations upon him after being discovered in such circumstances."

Aang's anger spiked.

"She's not lying!"

"Release him."

"No."

The refusal came immediately.

Aang did not even hesitate.

The earth surrounding Gen's legs tightened instinctively beneath his anger, forcing another pained sound from the kneeling man.

Lord Shuren's face darkened even more.

"This is how the Avatar repays the hospitality shown to him within my estate?" He hissed.

"You call this hospitality?!" Aang shot back furiously. "Your daughter is standing right there telling you what happened to her, and you won't even listen!"

Shuren said nothing.

Since the confrontation began, uncertainty crossed his face for the first time while his attention shifted toward Gen kneeling helplessly in the dirt. 

He refused to lift his head, his breathing uneven beneath the weight of every eye focused on him

Then Prince Jinhai finally stepped forward.

"Avatar Aang." he called calmly, and authority in his voice immediately quieted the surrounding tension.

"If the accusations prove true, the boy will not escape punishment."

Aang did not move, and Prince Jinhai continued regardless.

"However, if you continue restraining a citizen of Hujiang through force before witnesses without formal investigation, this matter shall become far uglier than it already is." His eyes settled briefly upon you before returning toward Aang once more. 

"And I suspect the lady has suffered enough humiliation for one evening."

That seemed to reach him.

Aang's heart tightened as his anger visibly struggled against reason for several painful seconds before the earth surrounding Gen's legs finally loosened.

The earth cracked apart.

Gen collapsed forward into the dirt with a sharp gasp before quickly scrambling backward away from Aang, fear consuming him.

Lord Shuren wasted no time.

He strode directly toward you before taking hold of your arm firmly to pull you toward the carriage, ignoring the quiet sob escaping you at the movement. 

You offered no resistance anymore, too exhausted to fight while he guided—nearly dragged—you toward the waiting carriage bearing your household crest.

Behind you, Gen shakily rose onto his feet before hurrying toward the second carriage after first bending down to retrieve your discarded silks laying forgotten.

You noticed it, and the sight made you sick.

Aang watched silently while the carriage doors shut behind you.

Only once the servants and guards finally began preparing for departure did he turn toward Prince Jinhai once more.

"You believe her, right?" He asked firmly.

Prince Jinhai remained quiet for a moment.

"The evidence upon her body was...difficult to ignore. As were the circumstances leading to tonight." He admitted at last.

Aang stepped closer.

"I turned my back for one second and she disappeared," he said, frustration heavy beneath every word. 

"Hours later I tracked her here." He motioned sharply toward the abandoned house looming behind them beneath the darkness. 

"And when I found her, she was chained to the wall."

That finally seemed to truly catch the prince's attention.

"The restraints are inside." Aang continued quickly. 

"I broke them myself, but the chains are still there. Her wrists were bruised because of them."

Prince Jinhai said nothing. His attention stayed on the abandoned house before he finally exhaled quietly through his nose.

"...Very well," he said at last. "I shall look into this matter personally."

Then his expression settled back into his usual unreadable one once more.

"For now, we should return to Advisor Shuren's estate." He continued calmly,

Aang had been pacing outside Shuren's study for what felt like an endlessly long time.

The corridor surrounding remained silent beneath the late hour, save for the distant sounds of servants moving through the estate and the occasional shifting of guards stationed nearby. Lanternlight flickered softly against the floors while shadows stretched long across the walls each time Aang turned sharply during another restless pass down the corridor.

He could not stop thinking about you.

Every attempt to sit still had failed within seconds.

The image of you standing outside that abandoned house refused to leave him alone no matter how hard he tried forcing his thoughts elsewhere. Your shaking hands, the bruises scattered across your skin, the way your voice had broken when you spoke Gen's name—

Aang pressed both hands briefly against his face before exhaling sharply.

He wanted to check on you.

Spirits, he wanted nothing more than to make sure you were alright, though he already understood such a thing would never be permitted tonight. The moment you returned to the estate, servants and physicians had hurried you away toward your chambers while Lord Shuren disappeared alongside Prince Jinhai into the study without another word spoken toward him.

And Gen...

Aang frowned deeply.

Gen had returned to the estate much later than everyone else. Aang had noticed the second carriage arriving only shortly after he himself had entered the manor, though since then, the servant had seemingly vanished.

Aang wondered whether Gen stood inside the study now alongside them.

Whether he was still lying.

And whether Prince Jinhai believed him.

The pacing eventually slowed the longer the silence stretched behind the closed doors before finally halting the moment the study doors opened at last.

Prince Jinhai emerged first.

The prince paused briefly upon noticing Aang still lingering outside the chambers, though no surprise crossed his expression at the sight. Neither of them spoke. Prince Jinhai offered the smallest acknowledgment of his presence through a restrained nod before continuing past him down the corridor, his guards immediately falling into step behind him without question.

Aang barely waited for them to leave before entering the study himself.

The heavy doors shut softly behind him.

Lord Shuren stood near the large windows overlooking the darkened estate grounds below, one hand resting behind his back while the other pressed lightly against the edge of the carved wooden table beside him. 

The exhaustion visible across his face made him appear older, still, when he spoke, the authority in his voice remained unchanged.

"You ought to be resting, Avatar Aang."

Aang ignored the remark.

"Where's Gen?"

Shuren's face hardened immediately.

"That matter no longer concerns you."

"It does concern me, because she was telling the truth."  Aang argued, frustration tightening visibly through his voice.

Shuren finally turned fully toward him.

"I do not know what precisely my daughter has said to persuade you into supporting this tale, but I must admit myself deeply offended by the accusations you continue placing upon that boy." He replied carefully.

Aang stared at him in disbelief.

"Tale?" he repeated. "You think she made all of that up?"

"What I think is that my daughter placed herself into circumstances severe enough to invite disgrace upon both herself and this household." Lord Shuren interrupted firmly,

Aang's jaw tightened sharply.

"I didn't touch her," He said immediately. "I swear to you, I didn't do anything."

Lord Shuren finally moved away from the window, crossing slowly toward the chair behind his desk before lowering himself into it with visible weariness settling across his features.

"First," he began evenly, "you are welcomed into my estate and cared for during your recovery. Then, despite refusing my proposal regarding my daughter's hand, which I graciously chose not to hold against you, you proceed to disappear alongside her for hours while fully aware she is promised to another man."

"I already told you nothing happened!"

"And yet she returns half-dressed from an abandoned house while accusing a servant who has remained loyal to my family for years."

Aang took another step forward immediately.

"Because he's the one who hurt her!"

Lord Shuren exhaled slowly through his nose, exhaustion creeping into his posture beneath the strain of the conversation.

"Put yourself in my position, Avatar Aang. Would you so easily accept such accusations?" He asked quietly.

"Yes," Aang answered without hesitation.

The response made the older man off look at him carefully.

Aang continued before he could interrupt.

"If she were my daughter, I would believe her." He said firmly. 

"Because she's my kid. And if my child came to me crying, saying someone hurt her, I wouldn't stand there wondering if she'd made it up."

Silence settled heavily across the study, and Shuren lowered his eyes toward the desk before him, his face morphing into one of sorrow, one more uncertain than anger this time, though whatever thought crossed his mind disappeared with another long exhale.

"I..." He stopped, visibly exasperated. 

"You are young, Avatar Aang. There are certain realities you do not yet understand."

Aang frowned immediately.

"What realities?"

Shuren leaned back slightly within his chair, exhaustion settling heavily across his features beneath the dim lanternlight surrounding the study.

"Had Prince Jinhai not accompanied us tonight, this matter may have unfolded...far differently." He admitted carefully,

Aang stared at him in disbelief.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means, that it would have been significantly easier to turn a blind eye toward tonight's indiscretions had the Crown Prince himself not witnessed it." Shuren continued evenly.

Aang's expression hardened instantly.

"You wanted to ignore what happened to your daughter?"

Lord Shuren's composure finally cracked slightly at the accusation.

"It was no secret my daughter had developed an attachment toward you." He replied, irritation sharpening his tone. "The entire estate observed it plainly."

"She was helping me. That's all she was doing." Aang argued immediately.

"And I took great pride in that." Shuren answered. 

"Do you imagine I failed to recognize the honor attached to my daughter standing beside the Avatar himself? Spirits, I believed perhaps your continued closeness would eventually lead you to reconsider the proposal I once placed before you."

Aang blinked, confusion crossing him before frustration overtook it entirely again.

"She never showed any interest in me." He said firmly. 

"And I never gave her any reason to think— I mean...we became friends. That's it. I'm grateful to both of you for helping me, and I care about her, but not like that."

Shuren remained silent for several moments, then he spoke quietly.

"Yet I observed how quickly you grew close regardless."

Aang opened his mouth to argue further, but Shuren continued before he could.

"When you refused my proposal initially, I chose not to resent you for it," he said calmly. 

"You are the Avatar. Your life does not belong entirely to yourself. I understood that much. But once I witnessed the attachment forming between the two of you, I believed perhaps time would alter your perspective."

Aang looked unsettled.

"And instead, you disregarded her position entirely and bedded a woman already promised to another." Shuren continued, disappointment lacing his voice.

"For the last time, I did not touch her!" Aang snapped, and the force behind the words echoed harshly through the study.

Aang took another step forward afterward, anger and disbelief both burning openly across his face now.

"And Gen did this! You were the one who sent him with us!" He exclaimed.

Shuren's brows tightened.

"I instructed him to accompany the two of you precisely to prevent impropriety." He replied coldly.

"Then why are you acting like this is somehow our fault?! You trusted him enough to send him with her, and he hurt her!" Aang demanded.

Shuren's jaw tightened visibly.

"Or, he stumbled upon two young people allowing emotion to overtake reason and returned horrified by what he witnessed."  He countered quietly

Aang looked utterly stunned.

"You can't seriously believe that."

The older man stood from his chair, slower this time, his posture seemingly burdened by the exhaustion weighing on his shoulders.

"I do not know what to believe tonight." He admitted at last. 

"I know only that my daughter's reputation hangs by a thread, Prince Jinhai has witnessed enough scandal to threaten years of careful negotiation, and the household servant accused of this crime has remained loyal to my family since childhood."

He paused briefly before continuing.

"And I know that if these accusations prove false, then an innocent man shall suffer for nothing more than standing between two reckless young people."

"An innocent man—"

"This will harm your reputation as well, Avatar. Perhaps it is best you leave Hujiang altogether." Shuren interrupted him.

Aang could only stare at him, struggling to comprehend how calmly these words continued leaving Lord Shuren's mouth.

The man spoke of reputation more than suffering.

He prioritized his negotiations more than truth.

He only thought of propriety more than his own daughter trembling beneath bruises inflicted by a man everyone trusted.

And perhaps the worst part of it all was that Shuren believed himself reasonable.

The realization made Aang's heart lurch in his chest.

For the first time since arriving within Hujiang and meeting you, he truly understood how trapped you must have been long before tonight ever happened. 

Your life had already been decided for you years before you were old enough to understand what betrothal even meant. Your future had been negotiated between powerful men while everyone around you praised it as fortune.

You would get a palace, a lovely prince.

A crown someday resting upon your head.

And yet no one seemed to care whether you yourself desired any of it.

Aang suddenly could not imagine you remaining here for the rest of your life without feeling your true self slowly disappear.

And beneath all the anger boiling inside him was something far uglier.

Guilt.

He could have avoided the storm, but he was impatient. 

Appa's injuries existed because he failed to protect him properly.

Momo remained missing because Aang had brought him into danger.

And now you...

Aang lowered his head, the guilt piercing painfully through his chest.

If he had never fallen into Hujiang, none of this would have touched your life at all.

You would still be walking peacefully through your gardens. Still arguing playfully with your maids over tea.

Instead, your entire world had shattered within the span of a single evening because his existence crossed your path.

Part of him wanted to leave immediately.

He felt as though leaving would simplify everything.

No Avatar, no more scandal.

Then there would be no reason for suspicion to continue circling your name.

But the thought vanished almost as quickly as it arrived, because if he left now, who would stand beside you?

Your own father refused to believe you. The servants would follow his judgment without question. Prince Jinhai remained uncertain at best. 

And Gen—

Aang's jaw tightened immediately.

Gen would walk freely through these halls while you remained alone carrying the shame of what had been done to you.

No.

The thought alone made him feel sick.

"I'm not leaving," he said suddenly.

Lord Shuren looked toward him.

Aang straightened fully before continuing, determination settling visibly across his expression despite the exhaustion dragging at him.

"I don't care if you believe me right now, but she shouldn't have to go through this alone." He said firmly.

Something unreadable crossed Lord Shuren's face.

He studied him silently for several moments before speaking at last, his tone calmer now though no less careful.

"You speak with admirable conviction, Avatar Aang. Though conviction alone rarely shields a woman from the consequences of impropriety."  He said quietly.

Aang frowned slightly.

Shuren continued regardless.

"A woman's reputation, once fractured publicly, seldom recovers entirely. Particularly when circumstances place her alone beside a man not her husband." His attention lingered thoughtfully upon Aang afterward. 

"The world tends to care less for truth than for appearances."

Aang remained silent.

"And yet, appearances can occasionally be repaired...provided the man beside her possesses sufficient honor to assume responsibility for them." Shuren added slowly.

Aang said nothing after that.

The air between himself and Shuren felt too heavy for further argument, and whatever words still remained inside him no longer seemed capable of reaching a man so devoted to preserving appearances that he could not recognize his own daughter's suffering.

So instead, Aang simply turned and left the study.

The corridors stretching through the estate remained dim, though he no longer needed servants guiding him through the manor halls. His feet followed the same path you had once shown him when his greatest concern had merely been reaching Appa safely.

The memory stung now.

When he finally reached the infirmary chambers, the guards stationed outside immediately straightened upon noticing him approach. Their orders had been strict, no one permitted entry without either yourself or Lord Shuren accompanying them personally.

Still, none of them attempted stopping the Avatar.

Inside, the room remained peaceful beneath low lanternlight.

Appa slept heavily across the joined mattresses arranged beneath him, his breathing deep and slow while fresh bandages wrapped securely around the injured leg still healing beneath weeks of treatment.

Aang crossed the room quietly before lowering himself beside the sky bison's massive body, leaning back gently against the familiar warmth of Appa's fur as fatigue finally settled heavily through him.

For a long while, he simply sat there listening to Appa snore softly beside him.

Then Shuren's words returned.

A woman's reputation, once fractured publicly, seldom recovers entirely.

Aang frowned deeply.

What was he even supposed to do now?

Part of him tried imagining what Sokka would say in a situation like this. Another part wondered how Zuko would handle it, though that answer honestly worried him slightly. 

Katara, however—

Aang suddenly straightened.

Wait.

"Katara!" he exclaimed aloud, eyes widening instantly as the thought finally struck him.

chapter eleven coming soon...

a/n: shorter chapter, i knowww! but i needed the next events to happen separately. chapter eleven is the last chapter of this flashback sequence, and it is where the story changes.

I AM SO EXCITED!

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