Synopsis: What happens when a duke drinks one of your fake love potions and blames whatever he feels for you on it? Presuming you cursed him instead, he drags you back to his mansion and refuses to let you leave until you reverse the spell.
You’ve now been working for four months to cure a curse that doesn’t exist, and the duke has somehow become even more obsessed with you.
…At least you’re finally getting paid.
The duke has gotten moodier.
Like he wasn’t moody enough, he was now as annoying as a pesky fly. Always hovering around.
And it’s unfortunately interfering with your ability to work. (You’ve become a workaholic ever since you stepped foot on his mansion, just so you could leave sooner.)
He’d sit by your table, head propped lazily on his hand, and with the other he’d play with your hair.
“Your hair is weird.” He’d comment casually, pointing out your hair type. It doesn’t matter if other people also had straight, wavy or curly hair. Yours was still somehow the weird one.
It’s become a routine for him to nitpick something about your appearance, habits, or personality whenever he could.
“It’s just hair, Your Grace.” You say with gritted teeth, his hand still stroking your hair distractingly.
“Hm.” He’d simply hum, and go to another strand, feeling the texture between his fingertips.
“Is it because you’re a witch you look like this?”
You pause the work in your hands, glancing up at him with squinting eyes. Is he saying that because of the rumors calling witches ugly?
“Like what?” You ask, trying to see where this was going.
“Pretty.”
His answer came immediately, simple and clear. His face not changing one bit.
You stared at him dumbfounded. Somehow, he’d managed to call you pretty while making it sound like an insult at the same time.
You worried all the antidotes he’d been drinking were giving him such strange side effects.
Or, the other possibility is that someone must’ve hit him on the head. You wouldn’t be surprised if he’d angered anyone by now with his prickly demeanor. Actually, you pray someone hits him just to satisfy your own desire.
His hand continued playing with your hair, while his eyes watched you languidly without shame. You hoped he could see the tick mark appearing at your forehead from anger, because you were this close to actually causing him brain damage if no one else does it before you!
Just one comment, I dare you! You glared at him. And he caught it, eyes widening for a bit.
“Even your eyes are weird.” He leaned closer, examining your eyes and pointing out their color like it’s something unnatural. But he doesn’t stop there, gaze dropping down to your hands now.
He wrapped two fingers around your wrist, frowning.
“And what kind of wrist is this small? You’re so weak it’s alarming— ACK.”
His comment was cut off by a hard bonk to the head from you, making him bite down his tongue.
“GET DOWN!”
The servants standing aside immediately duck on instinct, waiting for the splash of red to paint the room.
…
A few seconds of silence passed before they finally dared to peek open their eyes. To see you were still… intact? And without a single scratch even.
Instead, they find it was the duke who looked harmed, rubbing his head with a sulky expression.
“Why do you look so angry? You’re supposed to be smiling like what the books said…” The duke looked down glumly, and the servants couldn’t believe their eyes. Was the duke pouting?
You, however, didn’t look fazed by the sight. “I don’t know what you’re talking about but you should know better than to talk about a woman’s appearance like this!”
The duke stared back at you, his lips pressing into a thin line.
“Look, I don’t understand why you’re even here but—“
He stood up straight, making you pause your words to crane your neck back up at him. His height even more intimidating with you still sitting down in front of him.
“You… You are a violent woman. I can work with that.” He muttered the last part to himself, hand going under his chin to contemplate something.
Another vein popped up at your forehead. “The only one trying to work is me! MEEEE!”
In return, he’d also frown at your words. A vein matching your own popping up his forehead.
“Work, work, work. All you do is work, maybe that’s why you’re so prickly, woman!” He pointed accusingly.
Your lips parted in disbelief. “YOU brought me here to work, why are you getting irritated? And who are you calling prickly!”
Cue another banter followed between you and the duke, while the servants standing by watched you both bemused.
Two maids shared looks between each other, blinking a few times.
“Do we… Do we stop them? Or her at least?”
“No… Just, leave them be.” The older maid sighed, shaking her head at the image of the most feared duke currently acting like an idiot. “I’ve seen this happen four times already yet still cannot get used to it.”
When will the duke finally realize why he’s being so clingy?
It’s been four months.
Four months since you were brought to this mansion, working day and night to reverse whatever spell he’s convinced you have on him.
You don’t care anymore if his claims are true or not, just working to figure out whatever the hell he was complaining about and cure him.
And you were sure that at some point, he’d realize that you weren’t behind anything. Maybe grow tired of you and have an ounce of mercy to let you go eventually. Or by a silver of luck, you might finally find a working antidote that will do the job instead.
But no. The man’s very stubborn, and he was adamant on keeping you chained to his mansion.
And luck wasn’t on your side either, no antidote working so far in curing this mental illness of his.
“How much longer…” You sniffled, curling up your knees to your chest.
Rarely did you have any time to yourself without the duke by your side. Though, whenever you did, you’d quietly curse him (not literally) to empty some of your frustration.
Other times you’d cry from loneliness. Just like right now, heart swelling in longing.
It’s been months since the last time you’ve been outside. Oh how you miss the strolls you’d take in forests, collecting herbs for your potions, talking with other fellow witches, and most importantly…
“Money!”
When was the last time you’ve smelled the sweet unmistakable scent of gold coins? Four months!!!
This heartless duke’s been keeping you under his thumb without any compensation or proper employment. You’ve been basically working underneath him for free, all labor and no reward.
“Damn you, duke…!” You mumbled, burying your face further between your arms.
“Witch!” An annoying voice echoed in the hallway, halting your sniffs. Followed by the undeniable footsteps you’ve grown accustomed to, belonging to no one else but the duke.
Dang it, he finished sword training early today. You scramble off the floor quickly to find a new hiding place further from here.
Maybe the servant’s kitchen area will work—
Slam, the door opened. Revealing the duke at the doorway, water still clinging to his hair from the rushed shower he’d taken. All to find you quicker.
“Witch, I’ve been looking for you everywhere—“ His words die out once your eyes meet his own, still glossy and with cheeks tear-stained.
A sniff escaped you before you could even greet him, confirming the man’s dread that you were indeed crying.
“You… What happened to you?” He crossed the room in seconds, leaning to take a closer look at you.
“What? Nothing!” You looked away, realizing the mess your face must look like right now. You’d rather die than ever show this man a vulnerable sight, though you’ve showed that sight to him a few times at the start…
“Nothing?” He frowned, stepping closer with a stomp. “Your eyes are puffy and red from crying yet you still dare lie to my face?”
You still didn’t face him, his lips drawing a firm line at the avoidance of your gaze.
“Duke, you should go dry your hair first. Or you’ll catch a cold.” You gritted out, the last part more of a threat than a worry for his wellbeing, the urge to curse him for real this time emerged.
“Are you changing the subject? Do not test my patience and explain.” His words seemed desperate, angry and frustrated for a reason you did not care enough to understand.
“It’s none of your concern, Your Highness.”
Can he not get a hint? You just really wanted to be alone right now, from him especially.
“…”
The man did not budge, though his gaze lowered a little in contemplation.
Your words had irked him, none of his concern? How ridiculous.
You lived under his roof, ate the food he provided, and spent every waking hour in his manor… Whose concern would it be if not his?
“It does concern me, actually. Now tell me, what… caused this?” He pointed awkwardly, unsure of how to address the state he found you in. And comfort was a subject he was not familiar with at all.
“I said, nothing.” You repeated, but it did nothing to convince him.
“…Was it someone?” He frowned, changing the question into a “‘who’ did this” instead. That earned a scoff from you, giving him the wrong impression.
“Someone from the staff? One of the guards who harmed you? Give me names, now.” He ordered, hands crossed in front of him as he awaited a hit-list to be given. If only he knew the first name on that list was his own…
“No, and no. They did nothing wrong, don’t accuse innocent people!”
“Then was it the gardeners? Just tell me which bastard was it, I’ll have their heads rolling in minutes—“
“AGH! It’s no one, okay?” You covered your ears at the violent words he was spewing, enough to draw a disturbingly graphic image in your mind that had you feeling queasy.
Still getting no answer from you, the man’s lips turned into a straight line again.
“…You’re my employee, so I have the right to know what has you slacking off work.”
You broke whatever personal rule of not showing him your face, turning around with a whiplash at his words.
Because this was exactly what you’ve been tearing about earlier. How dare he bring that up so naturally without any shame!
“Employee? Me? Since WHEN?” You threw your arms open in outrage, utterly offended by his words.
He just stood there confused. His crossed arms falling limply to the side.
You were sad, terribly. And he was just twisting the knife at the wound that had you down. “I am an undocumented slave at your hands! And slavery was banned years ago, you stupid Duke!”
He raised a finger to speak, lips parting to get a word out, but you weren’t done yet.
“Listen, we’re in a modern society now. There’s nothing wrong with seeking a therapist! Mental health is important, ya know?”
It’s been on your mind for a while, a suggestion you were about to bring up naturally had he not forced you into this conversation.
Seriously, the ‘love potion’ you brewed months ago must’ve already passed his system. And with little to no information about his symptoms, you had no idea what to do anymore.
You sighed pitifully, the man getting more confused by the second.
“I mean, like… Maybe you should seek a different method of treatment, yeah?”
He did not answer, pushing you into speaking further.
“I think it’s about time you let me go—“
Your words don’t even get to finish before two rough hands latched onto your shoulders, making you wince.
“No. You… What kind of suggestion is that?” His voice wavered, before he gruffly voiced the very thing he hated to presume you were saying. “You dare try to leave?”
The way he said that had you glance up at him in confusion. His eyes stared back dilated, and the hands on your shoulders gripped harder, attempting to squeeze out an answer from you.
“You’re the one who cursed me, and you’ll stay right here till the curse gets reversed. Until then, I won’t let you go.”
His frown twisted further, just the thought of you leaving making him sick.
…Oh. Your lips formed a small circle, parted helplessly without any words to respond back.
You’d been too comfortable lately. Too confident in the fact that he’d never try to hurt you, and you’d completely forgotten about his true image as a feared duke.
But now you weren’t sure anymore, that confidence you had which allowed you to speak freely weighed down on you belated.
Damn it, and you’d just called him a stupid duke earlier.
It reminded you once again that you were only here because of a misunderstanding—breathing and alive because the man genuinely thinks you’ve cursed him.
You didn’t dare break eye contact, his red eyes never allowing you a glance away, and it had your fear skyrocket at once. All that sass you’ve shown so far swallowed deep in your throat.
But then you felt it. Beneath your own shaking shoulders were the tremors of someone else. Him.
The fingertips of his hands—still gripped uncomfortably on your shoulders—were trembling.
“…”
What was he afraid of…? You dared not voice out your question, continuing to stare back at him in a frozen state.
The excruciatingly long silence finally broke when the duke spoke first.
“…So it’s just about the employment? Is that why you’re upset?” His voice came out softer than before, the frown on his lips easing a bit into a straight line.
You slowly nodded, no use in denying it with him holding you hostage between his arms.
Though you weren’t sure who was the hostage anymore. The way he looked at you wasn’t that of a man holding someone captive, but one who had become captive himself.
“…Very well.” His answer came after another pause. “I’ll have a proper employment contract drafted in no time.”
You blinked up at him a few times. This easily?
“Really?”
“Mhm.” He nodded, the grip on your shoulders relaxing at the glint in your eyes.
“And… I’ll get paid?” You asked, just to double check.
“Obviously.”
You squint at him for a long moment, trying to see what was the catch.
“…You’re actually agreeing?”
His brows furrowed, lips pulling down a bit at your distrust.
“You’ve only made one request so far. Continue.” He nodded curtly for more.
Permission was all you needed, not waiting any longer to ask.
“Then I want weekends off.”
“Granted.” His hands left to cross in front of him, satisfied at your compliance.
“…With paid leave.”
“Done.” Suddenly, a steward stood beside him noting down everything with a flick from the duke’s finger. (…Since when had there been a steward in here?)
“…Lunch breaks.”
“Alright.” He nodded with his chin, the steward working double to keep up everything.
“Plus monthly bonuses!” You pointed with a finger enthusiastically.
“If your performance is satisfactory.”
Your jaw nearly hit the floor, but one last request still needed to be made.
“Oh! And—“ You cleared your throat, hiding a smirk behind your hand.
His foot tapped impatiently. “What else?”
You couldn’t forget the most important one of all.
“I want my own bedroom.”
A moment of silence from everyone in the room took place.
One maid quietly covered another servant’s mouth before he could laugh.
Even the steward stopped writing.
The guards suddenly found the opposite wall incredibly interesting.
Simultaneously, they all finally remembered you never had a proper bedroom assigned to you. Usually staying up all night working in the duke’s bedroom or sleeping in the servant’s quarters.
“…Done. Guards?”
Everyone relaxed at the duke’s words, you especially.
The agreement brought you great relief, placing a hand over your chest to sigh. Finally, all problems solved—
Until he casually turned to the guards, one hand raised up for the closest to approach him.
“Move the finest bed in the manor beside mine.”
The guard bowed immediately. “At once, Your Grace—“
“NO!” You yelled, pausing the duke in his place to stare confused.
“I said my own bedroom! Bed. Room.” You repeated twice, but the duke only looked back annoyed.
“You will have one, as I just said.” One of his brows raised up, still not getting your point.
“Uhh, yeah? One with four walls and a roof, all to myself!” Your hands moved to draw a box shape midair.
“…”
The duke was quiet then, a hand came up his chin to contemplate something.
“…Three walls and no more.” He held up three fingers, and you stared back at them blankly.
“…A what now?”
“Compromise.”
Haaah, after thirty minutes of negotiating, you ended up being granted everything but the last request.
You mumbled a few incoherent phrases as you signed the employee contract, one that was quickly whipped up and waiting in the hand of the steward.
True to his words, the duke builds a room for you with three walls.
…Located in the corner of his own bedroom.
You were basically roommating with the man, and he dared look satisfied about it.
An infuriating smirk played on his lips as he exited the bathroom, dressed in a silk nightgown heading to his bed.
You face the wall to hide your scowl, listening unintentionally to how the bed rustled from his movement.
He made himself comfortable under the blankets first before finally addressing you out, rather cheerfully.
“I’m going to sleep.” He peeked an eye at your figure, back facing him.
“Congratulations.” You uttered dryly. The flat response visibly irked him, as he called out a moment later to ask.
“…Was that sarcasm?”
You didn’t acknowledge him with more than a hum, annoying him further.
“…Turn off the lights.” He ordered, a frown you couldn’t see was pulling his lips down.
You still don’t reply, just getting up to extinguish the lamp as instructed. Not the response he was awaiting.
“Tch… Don’t you dare leave the room. Got that?”
“Yeah, yeah. Go to sleep now!” You waved him off, kicking the blankets annoyed.
“Good.” He huffed, sounding oddly satisfied despite having run out of excuses to talk.
Silence engulfed the room, the only noise coming from the hooting owls outside and rustling leaves.
You laid on the bed facing the wall, never turning around to see if the duke was doing the same or not.
And just as you were about to fall asleep, a hushed voice called out softly.
“…Good night.” He murmured, never awaiting for you to say it back. Already succumbing to sleep with the soft snores that followed after.
You stilled in this new bed, the frown on your face easing a bit at the awkward gesture.
Though the anger in you still didn’t subside completely, you did feel a toll of it leave you in a sigh.
“…Well,” you pulled the blanket over your head. “At least I’m getting paid to deal with him now.”
You then followed him into dreamland. No other thought lingering in your money-crazed head.
Zzzzzz.
.
..
…
Hmm… But wait, aren’t you forgetting something?
Likeeee reading the employee contract twice before signing?
Or, hey, did you even receive a signed copy of the contract?
Who knows what you just signed away. Maybe you should’ve thought twice about calling yourself ‘a slave’ in this man’s presence.
…
Might’ve just given him ideas.
Tag list: @musicalfan2026 @violetvase @justatimidcreator @aluvrina @dearlyhyeon
. . . you’ve heard of him before. sukuna. you knew that apparently, he loved to fuck around with girls, mostly at parties, and got in trouble most of the time because he was a typical fratboy.
he never noticed you, and you never noticed him despite hearing about him from your friend after they spent a night with him.
the first time he actually saw you, was in his English Comp class, where you always raised your hand to answer the professor’s questions. Sukuna noticed how you seemed nothing like the girls he was used to, both personality wise and looks.
didn’t mean you weren’t cute to him.
the first time he tried to charm you (because he was just built like that, of course), it failed miserably.
you were walking down the hallway, talking to the same friend who hooked up with sukuna, when he tapped your shoulder.
you turned around, looking up at him.
“. . . yes?”
he looked down at you, seeing how your cheeks were just so naturally chubby, how you looked so cute—
“wanna go out with me? the ladies say I’m pretty good.” he noticed the girl beside you, looking smug.
a few awkward, slient seconds passed before you responded.
“thanks but uh, I’ll pass. I don’t know you, try another day.” you suppressed a chuckle, glancing at your friend, giving her that look.
so much for a first impression. he’ll just have to try harder.
pda obsessed!choso who is always looking for an excuse to kiss you. he'll wrap his arms around your waist and kiss your shoulders, your neck, and even your arms and hands if you aren't using them. he'll do it even as you're checking out your groceries at the supermarket, ignoring the disgusted stares of the cashier and other customers.
pda obsessed!choso who will pull you to sit on his lap when you're hanging out with your group of friends. he loves to rub circles into your hips or your thighs and stare up at you while you talk to everyone else, completely enamoured by your beauty. the second you're done talking he'll lean up and shamelessly make out with you, tongue and all. he'll make out with you for as long as he likes and doesn't care that he's pulled you out of an active conversation.
pda obsessed!choso who walks with his hand in the back pocket of your jeans because he loves the feeling of your ass rubbing against his hand. he doesn't take his hand away even when you stop walking and stand still to check your phone and instead gropes and squeezes your butt with both hands. you try and push him away out of embarassment but his grip is too strong so you just let him squeeze to his hearts content.
pda obsessed!choso puts his arms around your shoulders and gropes your tits while you wait in queues. he does it so often that you hardly even notice when he slides his hands into your bra and starts squeezing. it's only when he begins rolling your nipple between his fingers that you squeal and slap his hand away, and he switches to kissing your exposed skin instead.
pda obssesed!choso just wants to touch you constantly. whether it be holding your hand, petting your head or groping you, he's happy as long as his hands are on you.
a/n: this is my first tumblr post so i hope its good lol
synopsis . Your boyfriend reaching the avatar state when he’s close. content . afab!reader, improper use of air bending, established relationship, dirty talk, missionary, pet names, he (nervously) talks you through it, praise, implied/slight breeding kink, etc.
author's note: i’d lick the sweat off his bald head if he let me.
You should’ve known something was up when the bedroom’s lanterns began to flicker.
But with the way Aang's hips snapped down against yours in such a relentlessly missionary rhythm—plump cock smothered deep within the juicily squelching walls of your pussy—it was hard to focus on anything else outside of the way he stretched you open.
HIs breaths came in searing pants against your neck, one gripping hand braced beside your head whilst his free one occupied itself with one of your thighs, tugging your leg impossibly higher around his waist just so that he could fuck you at that pinpointingly perfect angle.
"Ohhh, that's ittt, sweet girl. T-Taking me so well," Aang murmured as his eyes locked onto yours with shimmers of honest adoration visible all over them. "Keep squeezing me like that, mmgh. F-Feels good. So good." He thrusted even harder then, his breath flying out of him along with it as the wet slap of skin on skin emulated throughout the room.
His muscles tensed and his balls felt sorely heavy with each time they came plapping down against your sweat-slicked skin. The lanterns began to flicker again, brighter this time around as they cast shadows around the bedroom.
Then he leaned all the way down to smush his soft lips into yours, capturing your breath with in a messy kiss. His tongue came out to slide against yours as his firm body rocked into yours, the bed struggling to remain in place with his every move.
When his mouth left yours, he was dazed. This should've been the second signal for you. Especially as he let out a loud groan and went whispering, "Gonna breed this pretty cunt-," Instantly catching himself after and letting those soft grey eyes of his go all the more doe-like on you, "Shit... can I say that? I-Is that okay? Do you like it when I talk to you like tht?"
His hips picked up in pace, jaw going stiff as the balmy head of his cock smudged all sloppily against your cervix. Aang glanced down to see how he was disappearing into you, gasping at the obscene sight below him and then returning his eyes to yours.
"Tell me, baby. Please, talk to me. Tell me how you want me-, how you need me. I just wanna-, ohfuck—" Mid-sentence, his steady thrusts seem to derail and your cunt soaks around him to leave a sheeny layer of aroused slick all over his dick.
You're sucking him in deeper than he expected you to, and it catches him absolutely off guard. Which you notice rather quickly, batting your fucked-out eyes up at him, "Aang? Are you okay?"
"Yeah-, yes.. You just keep—" He hunches over against you—body going taut and lean muscles constricting against one another. "You keep squeezing me like that."
Begining to like seeing him struggle, "Squeezing like what?" you asked in sync with your walls clenching around the deft base of his cock.
Air puffs right out of him as if he'd been choked and his body shudders with something powerful coursing through him. You only catch it for a split second the first time it happens—a brief flash over both his markings and his eyes as his next array of groaning stammers out of him.
Following this is the flash of something wild in his eyes as they broaden, pupils dialating a fraction. Aang's head tips to the side and the plump crown of his cock slavers itself alllll around your insides, the puffy lips of your cunt left to quiver around him.
"You're so pretty-," Your loving boyfriend chuffs out, unknowingly thrusting into you harder via a burst of controlled air slapping against his backside. "H-Have I told you that? Hm?" He's asking as if he wasn't literally air bending himself into fucking you harder.
Your head just barely manages a nod, tears coating your lash line, "Nngh-, yes, Aang."
"Say it back to me then," Aang encourages. In between his breathy words, a brush of air is felt slithering against your cunt. It was almost as if his ability to seamlessly multitask was showcasing the best of his abilities via stimulating you everywhere. "Tell me how pretty my girl is, yeah?"
The sensation brings a stutter to your speech, "A-Aang, I can’t," you cry out, nails lightly scraping at his back.
He smiles halfway before his thrusting grows erratic and his jaw slacks some, "Oh. You're gushing-, shit."
You feel the way his tip pulsates inside you, his hips struggling to pull himself back for a moment long enough to give his cock a second to breathe—not that he much cared to do so anyway.
"So wet. Wanna see you cum-, wanna feel it." Aang husks, "Can you do that? Cum for me?"
"Mhmm," You nod weakly at first but within the next few seconds, as something begins to rumble distantly, you start to second guess your agreement. Mouth falling agape, “Wait, s’too much-,” you try to warn him.
He’s lost though—lost in the feel of your greedy insides begging his dick to spill enough seed into you to repopulate a nation or two at least. Aang’s unconscious manipulation of air only gets worse too, he goes from using his bending to fuck himself deeper to using it to sprawl your puffy pussy lips ‘n legs apart even wider.
You’re a stretched out mess in mere seconds, gasping his name and crying out in pleasure as your back begins arch. Then he’s chuckling all of a sudden and you swear for a moment he’s not even the same man you knew him to be.
Aang’s head cocks back some and his eyes roll back, “You can take it,” he grunts like he knows his words to be true and no argument could convince him otherwise. “You always do. Mmgh-,” He bites his lip for a second before looking down at you once more. “Can’t you feel that? The air helpin’ me fill you up? It’s-, hah.. It’s a little something I’ve been practicing.”
You pout at first, “Aang, I don’t know if-, mmgnh! Y-Your markings!”
The room illuminates with colors of spiritual blue before he notices what you’re talking about.
“What about them?” Aang asks cluelessly, his voice having changed due to the height of pleasure and energy surging through him.
Sweat drips down his body but it doesn’t even manage to touch you or the bed because he’s bending those droplets just as he was the air—completely losing himself in the feel of you and bending all sorts of shit because of it.
“They’re glowing,” You gasp.
Then his cock buries itself all the way in, every stiff inch clamped by your sappy insides, and his body comes to a sharp stop.
You knew there were… concerns when it came to having sex with your boyfriend who just so happens to be the avatar. But, no one told you he’d enter the avatar state just from cumming too hard!!
It’s while creamy gushes of cum are flooding into your poor cunt that his body is shuddering and he’s literally entering a new state of pleasure. He could hardly manage a word out or even move, the state had taken him over entirely.
You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little worried for him because of it, but honestly you were a tad bit distracted by how fucking hot it was.
You shouldn’t let this go to your head, really.
But who else can say their pussy sent their boyfriend into the avatar state?
That’s something to brag about!
(not proofread) banner from “Welcome to The Muscle Salon!” || tags:
YANDERE!GARDEN FAIRY x GN!READER — suggestive content / pathetic yandere / emotional instability / stalking / emotional manipulation / social isolation / he’s such a small, weak thing / won’t you keep him safe by your side?
A/N: first post !! ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐘 whom you saved one day whilst tending to your flowers. From your perspective, the only thing you saw was a weak little butterfly who must’ve strayed too far from the community garden across the street.
All you did was offer it some sugar water to drink before going about the rest of your day, entirely oblivious to the tiny fairy who now owed you his life.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐘 who knows he shouldn’t be interacting with humans, but he’s just so, so grateful that he simply has to thank you in person.
While he waits for you to come back from whatever it is that you’re doing outside, his mind can’t stop replaying his earlier interaction with you. How you complimented the lovely shade of his wings, how you handled him so gently. He’s always thought humans were scary, but you’ve shown him that that isn’t the case.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐘 who ends up falling asleep after the food coma hits, and that is how you find him when you return home in the evening.
He’s in his fairy form, curled snugly against your flowerpot, dozing away without a care in the world. The saucer, now empty, sits beside him, right where you left it in the morning.
“... What the fuck?”
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐘 who wakes up at the sound of your voice. He’s so startled, and so embarrassed !
He immediately starts flying around you, wings fluttering rapidly, trying to explain himself, all while you’re wondering whether or not you’ve gone insane. Nothing he’s saying is making sense either. You can’t even understand the language of fairies, so all you hear is incoherent, high-pitched gibberish.
Realising this, he sprinkles some of his fairy dust on your face, getting rid of the language barrier.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐘 who eventually sets the situation straight. He’s ecstatic when you smile at him and (awkwardly) tell him it was nothing.
“I owe you my life. I — I’ll do anything you want. Just say the word!”
“Ah, you don’t have to do that...”
“I want to! Please let me repay your kindness!”
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐘 who begs you to let him do something with wide eyes and a big pout. At this point, you’re convinced you’re hallucinating, so you just gesture vaguely at your flowers and tell him to tend to them in your stead.
“Yes, yes! Of course! I won’t let you down!”
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐘 who stalks follows you around whenever you go out. He’s just worried for you! What if you get into trouble and no one is around to help you? Also, how will he ever repay you if he doesn’t know anything about you?
A little butterfly like him is inconspicuous enough outdoors. Indoors, he can cast mild concealment charms on himself so people don’t notice him.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐘 who neglects his work at the community garden in favour of spending time with you. He’s sure it’s fine. He’s one fairy out of hundreds. No one would even realise he’s been gone.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐘 who is extremely clingy. When the two of you grow closer and you accept the fact that yes, magic is real, he literally never stops hovering around you.
In his human form, it’s even worse. Butterflies have poor eyesight, and as a butterfly fairy, the same extends to him. Coupled with how unfamiliar the world is to him as a human, his whole existence seems to depend on you.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐘 who has terrible mood swings. You know how they say fairies are so small that they can only feel one emotion at once? Yeah. It’s not any better in his human form either — since he’s not used to dealing with such complex emotions, he ends up spiralling and breaking down. He can go from absolutely euphoric to sobbing in your arms within seconds. It’s exhausting to deal with.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐘 who begins to isolate you from your friends and family. Why do you need them when you have him? He’ll play with your emotions, acting cute, then pathetic, begging you with sad puppy eyes not to leave him by his lonesome. He takes up all your time and energy, sparing you with nothing until you eventually realise you haven’t seen your best friends in a year. Sensing the change in your mood, he’ll pester you to spend time with him until you forget all about it.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐘 who doesn’t go out in public as a human if he can, and he only ever goes out with you. He doesn’t interact with anyone else, since he’s so skittish with every other human but you. You always have to do the talking for him whilst he hides behind you, clutching onto your shirt, even though he’s the one that insisted on having a lunch date with you.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐘 whose half-human, half-butterfly form intrigues you a lot.
His eyes are a lot bigger, and entirely black. His body is slightly larger compared to his human form, but more slender. He has two pairs of arms and one pair of legs, and his beautiful wings drape elegantly behind his back. Of course, you can’t forget the two thin antennae that portrude from the top of his head.
They’re incredibly sensitive, much more than his wings. You can reduce him to a blushing, quivering mess just by petting him in that general area. If you actually stroke the antenna itself, he becomes nothing but putty in your arms.
Overstimulation will have pretty tears collecting in the corners of his eyes, but he never wants you to stop.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐘 who stuffs you full with good, nutritious food whenever he’s horny and wants you to have sex make love with him. It’s supposed to give you all the energy and nutrients you need for you to do the deed. He’ll either cook, or pester you to go out and eat with him if there aren’t enough ingredients at home.
However, due to the species/culture difference between the both of you, it takes you a while before you realise why he’s doing what he’s doing. Since he’s too shy to outright say it, he’s just going to have to wait until that time comes. Poor guy.
YANDERE!IDOL x GN!READER — obsessive yandere / delusional yandere / cyberstalking / reader is a fan / just keep your eyes on him / for you, he’ll put on the most dazzling show
A/N: this is lowk so “1D notices u while performing bec ur ~not like the other girls~” coded LMFAO
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 who lost the passion he had for his craft before he met you. His technique is undeniably flawless, but the ambition that had once burned bright within him has long since flickered away.
The inhumane working conditions, the pressure and the scrutiny that come with being in the spotlight, the expectations — always in sight but never within reach... There is only so much ‘he’s cute, but the other members look much better’ that he can take before it starts chipping away at his soul, y’know?
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 who is thinking of quitting altogether. His contract is ending soon, and it’s not like anyone would miss him if he was gone, so...
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 who is performing on stage when he sees you for the first time. Whilst sweeping his gaze over the audience casually, he locks eyes with you.
In the future, he will mull over this moment for days and weeks and months. In the future, he will swear up and down that it was fate. For now, he is simply caught off guard.
You are staring at him. With sparkling eyes and awe in the slight part of your lips — you are completely and utterly enraptured. By him.
Your smile widens, and the grin that blooms across your face takes his breath away. He nearly stumbles, and makes a mistake in the choreography for the first time since his trainee days. A small one, barely noticeable to the untrained eye, but a mistake nonetheless.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 whose gaze can’t stop wandering back to you. Throughout the entirety of the concert, he keeps on stealing second glances, making sure that you’re still looking his way.
He can’t find it in himself to care when everyone else is screaming the other members’ names.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 who suddenly feels reinvigorated. That spark he thought he would never feel again — it returns. It begins in one tiny corner, nestled deep into his heart, then spreads, surging through his veins, until his entire body is set aflame.
It shows in the sharp elegance of his motion, in the power of his voice. He executes each step with impeccable precision, with a vigor he hasn’t felt in years. That ambition — to perform, and to captivate.
Look at me.
(Are you looking at him?)
Look at me.
(He wants you to keep looking at him.)
Look at me.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 who pulls all the strings he has just to find you after that concert ends. It takes a while to sift through so many people, even after he narrowed the search down to the ones in your category, but he finally succeeds. He finds you.
He absorbs every single thing he can find about you online. He stalks all your social media accounts. All of them. Even the cringey ones you made as a teen and have long since forgotten about.
He screenshots everything. All of your posts, your selfies, even the random keyboard smashes you put in the tags of a tumblr reblog. His gallery is overflowing with pictures of you now, and he sets one of them as his phone’s wallpaper.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 who kicks his feet and giggles like a schoolgirl on his bed as he reads through all the comments you’ve posted about him online. Every compliment has his heart fluttering, and the more he scrolls, the more he believes that the both of you are meant to be. You fell first but he fell harder — you like that trope, don’t you?
In his head, he already considers you his lover. Nevermind the fact that you don’t even know he’s your boyfriend. It’s just... long distance!
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 who starts going online more often. He posts more stuff outside of the livestreams he’s contractually obligated to do, and generally improves his social media presence.
Whenever he posts something, he literally won’t stop checking to make sure that you’ve seen it. He won’t be able to sleep if you don’t like or comment on the post, his brain working overtime wondering which part of it you didn’t like, and planning on how he’d improve on the next one.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 who trains and practices harder than he has ever done before. He used to strive for perfection, but for you, perfection isn’t enough. He pushes himself past all his limits, surpassing his role as the ‘all rounder’. At the rate he is improving, he will soon become the best not just within his group, but in the whole industry.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 whose popularity actually increases because of all of this. The change in his demeanor, though subtle, draws many fans in, and he sees multiple posts about how his stage presence has improved recently.
In the past, he would’ve been overjoyed with that. However, now, all he cares about is impressing you.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 who performs because of you. He sings, dances, and smiles all for you. It wouldn’t even be a stretch to say that he lives and breathes solely because of you.
To the one who brought light back into his life — he dedicates his spotlight to you.
So the original, Ew. Read this new one instead. (I'm not even a massive fan of this one but oh well)
Tigger Warnings! Very slight mention of Intimacy (the most you'll ever see on this blog.)
💰 Tobias grew up below the poverty line. His mother, bless her soul, worked herself to the bone for him and his sister. The only thing that kept them going was the love they had for one another. Bounded by love and dreams for the future. His mother just wants her children to be happy. His sister wanted to become a baker and little Tobias wanted money. The idea of not stressing about rent or food was something he always dreamed of.
When Tobias was twelve he did the paper route. He woke up every day at the break of dawn to get on his bike for a few extra pounds every day. He remembers in the autumn he actually fell off his bike on the way home, having to slowly get up and hobble back to his house. He remembers his arm bleeding and cursing to himself when he realised it got onto his shirt. He was so embarrassed he just locked himself in the bathroom for a while. He takes his shirt off and that's when he saw it for the first time. (Reader) (Last Name) In bold right on his ribs. He hadn't realised at the time you were his soul mate, He came running out telling his mum the boogyman had drawn on him. That's when his mother showed him his dead father's name on his mother's ankles.
💰 Soulmates weren't something you earn or need to fight for. That fascinated Tobias, truly. Unconditional love from someone who isn't blood, Someone who didn't need to care for him but did. This curiosity didn't last long however, Tobias took business studies when he was a teen and that completely consumed him. He remembers being fifteen in the back of class taking notes of usp's ,now he's twenty seven looking above all the city from his penthouses. He remembers when he'd have to get up early and work. Now he owns multiple companies, just letting the money roll into his account. He doesn't have to lift a single finger but he chooses to. Every night and morning they trace your name on his body, cherishing it.
You on the other hand grew up with Tobias's name on your wrist which meant you didn't really get to have a love life. It's like trying to have an affair with your wedding ring still on. Apparently your soulmates made quite a name for themselves but you refused to look into it. It wouldn't be fair if you got to know him first before he knew you.
💰 Little did you know that Tobias didn't feel the same way on this matter, He already knew everything about you. Private Investigation was chump change to him. He knows what you like, what you inspire to and where you live. Including the country because he purposely moved out of it . Which might seem silly to some, if you knew your soulmate was in arms reach why wouldn't you embrace them? Tobias wasn't fully sold on the fact you wouldn't want his money. He's had too many friends ask too much of him, he even had family he'd never heard of introduce themselves. Where were they when his mother was need? Tobias learnt two things quickly into because wealthy.
1) Nobody likes you
2) Nobody knows you
Tobias could live with that honestly, until his private Investigator sent him a photo of you going to a tattoo removal place, with thee intent of you removing his name. Forever. After that Tobias bought the biggest mansion available near your home. It was at this moment, when he had moved the last of his boxes contains into their right places he realised he didn't know how to talk to you.
💰 It started of small, His franchise started financially supporting local charities in your area. It made the local news and everything. This was bit of a selfie act, yes it did help people that grew up just like him and he was overjoyed at that but it did also mean he could see how you reacted to your soulmates name being everywhere. He noticed from afar how your pace quickened away from the build boards and news. Why didn't you care? It drove him to be a bit more drastic.
You work at a marketing and event organisation. You actually really liked your job, it let you express your creativity. It wasn't unheard of you to randomly be roped into meetings with new clients but you were surprised when you walked into a meeting with your soulmate and none else. Nobody to take the minutes or a have a second opinion. Just you and him. "I apologise for showing up at your work. I didn't know how to get your attention." Tobias wouldn't lie to you, that's not how relationships start. This was the first time Tobias really got a good look of you, which means this is the first time you're seeing him properly too.
💰 His brown skin glows in the sunlight as his brown eyes fixate on you. His afro pushed back into a bun that helps show his sharp cheek bones and complains his smooth skin that's as obvious kept well by expensive products.
His brown eyes was fixated on you like you were the most gorgeous thing he'd ever seen. "So you're not here for business then?" You cross your arms, not particularly wanting to give any emotions just yet. Tobias just smiles, "No, I suppose not. Just wanted to see my soulmate." He gently takes your wrist into his hand. "Please, may we get to know eachother first?" Your mask cracked with a valuable question. You didn't want to suddenly date someone just because fate told you to. Tobias simply smiled, relived you felt the same way.
You two became friends fast, I mean it makes sense the two of you were practicing made for eachother but the air is always thick with tension. Tension you cut about four months in. You weren't ready for a relationship but you were willing to indulge in the temptation of flesh, the way your body aligns with his just felt right but Tobias couldn't help but feel like you'll leave him. The next morning the sun was not the first to rise but Tobias is. His eyes glued on you, how you rested, how your chest gently wound rise and fall gently into the expensive sheets. He reaches out and caresses your cheek to gently wake you up. "My dear." He whispers gently before gently pulling you onto him. Finding comfort in your weight on top of him. "What is it you like about me? My money? The power? Or do you just enjoy a good time?" He noticed how your groggy eyes slowly blink. You gently wrap your arms around him, resting your head on his chest. "You're very Caring, I see how you try and help people. It's comforting knowing people like you are still around." Before he can really respond you go back to sleep. Tobias was shocked he almost can't touch you for a second, like if he does you'll break and crumble. It doesn't take long before he wraps his arms around you and refuses to let go. You meant more to him then any number in his bank account could.
💰 Tobias asked you to be his partner very soon after. He made sure to do it publicly as well. An extravagant restaurant where he knew all eyes would be on the two of you. He saw the way your pupils delighted, so happy he finally took the next step. The relationship changes drastically after you to officially became a couple. Tobias became quite intense, he really wanted you to stay home but you weren't really about that life."I like my job Tobbie, I'm not quitting." You say firmly after an argument. You get that he wants company at home but surely you guys can just get a cat? You had other things to worry about. For example, that annoying paparazzi. They're everywhere! You get it. The reclusive billionaire is now being charitable with the help of his soulmate, cute story but why do they have to mention your looks? You can't help but feel self conscious.
One night, Tobias was in bed scrolling through his laptop whilst you slept by his side. He wanted to know what comments made you so adamant not to rely on him.Some of these comments were disgusting, Tobias felt his jaw tighten at these degrading comments target towards you. He scrolled through the reporters profile, finding their work, their professional profile and then their personal one fairly easily. Stupid bastard, should know better then posting their location while their currently there. He can't complain too much, makes him have less work. He looks down at your sleeping face, he can't bare to part with his joy so he messages a guy, a location and a photo with £5k just to keep his mouth shut and doubled it afterwards.The next morning he's awaken by you. "Tobias! Tobias! Look!" Before he can even adjust to the light he's having a phone screen in his face. He groans and sits up, wrapping his arms around you, "What it is?" He mumbles, it's a perk of being half asleep. He doesn't have to act when you tell him that pesky report was involved in a assault l. "He probably had many enemies. He said mean things about more powerful people than me."
You didn't see anything dramatic from that point on after that. You and Tobias fell into a routine, happily together. You had no idea he'd blackmail, threaten and beat anyone who made your life an inconvenience.
(true form!sukuna x chubby!reader) | fluff/ crack / suggestive
you were convinced sukuna was somehow made for cuddling.
four large arms wrapped around you, holding you close — broad chest pressed against your back, large body radiating constant heat.
you had your head resting on his bicep, the size of it basically acting as a slightly smaller, more comfortable version of a pillow. sukuna had another arm draped around your waist, hand splayed across your soft tummy, the other two arms in similar positions. he was practically squeezing you in his sleep.
when you stir during the night, he tightens his hold, securing you against him further so you can’t leave. not even for a second.
you were both warm and drunk with sleep, the soft morning sun beginning to beam through the windows.
you stir first.
a lazy sigh, a soft shift of your hips, body dying to stretch its muscles. you peek behind you, catching sight of sukuna’s sleeping form, four eyes glued shut — pink hair messy in the best way.
you wriggle a little, cautious you don’t wake the grumpy cute beast behind you. the moment you move more than an inch, one of sukuna’s eyes snap open, watching you try to slide out from beneath his arms.
"no." he doesn’t say much — he doesn’t need to. sukuna could keep you curled up next to him for eternity if he wanted. you were helpless against him, especially when he was needy like this.
he tightens his arms further, pulling you back against his chest with a lazy grumble. your soft curves only made sukuna want to keep you in bed with him longer — your body was so supple, so cozy.
"kuna, i need to use the bathr-"
"quiet."
you sigh quietly, desperate to stretch your legs and empty your bladder, or even just have a second to breathe without being crushed by the grumpy oversized cat behind you.
"i can’t hold it much longer-" you warn, squirming sukuna’s hold again, pinching his arm in protest. he doesn’t move, not even a millimetre, your protests falling on deaf ears. "kunaaaa!" you whine.
"i do not care, woman. disturb my slumber again and i will eat you," he mumbles, throwing empty threats around like he actually means them. he lets out a sound that could only be described as half whine, half growl, setting back in.
you giggle lightheartedly, wiggling your ass against him in a playful manner. you may have to resort to other techniques to get the man to release you from his iron grip. "…oh yeah?"
sukuna cracks an eye open again, one hand finding your hip, halting your movements. "you have woken me up. do not wake them also," he rasps, trying to ignore the two growing bulges under the sheets.
"let me use the bathroom and i’ll say good morning to you properly," you grin, grinding your full ass against his crotch. he hums lowly, clearly satisfied with this idea, yet slightly irritated he’d have to spend a few minutes without you curled up against him.
slowly, he relaxes his grip, letting you slither away towards the bathroom. "be quick, woman."
he already missed you.
a/n; i wrote this after a few cocktails so… here’s this i guess… sorry it’s so short ugh (also this isn’t part of chubby concubine series i hope i made that clear idk LOL)
He’s always there. You block him? He shows up at your job, your gym, your favorite café. He knows your schedule better than you do. “Missed you, baby. Figured you’d be here.” He says it with that lazy smirk like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
His love language is extreme persistence + acts of service. He’ll fix your car without asking, stock your fridge with your favorite snacks, pay your bills if you let him (and even if you don’t- which you should). He once waited outside your place in the rain for three hours just to walk you inside because “you shouldn’t be alone.” Meaning he didn’t want to be.
Jealousy level: nuclear.Any guy who even looks at you too long gets the death glare. He’ll casually slide an arm around your waist in public, pull you against his chest, and murmur in your ear, “They don’t get to look at what’s mine.” He’s not subtle about marking his territory: hickeys, his hoodie on your shoulders, his hand in your back pocket.
He calls you his wife already. Even if you’ve never agreed to it. “My future wife is picky about her coffee, so I got it exactly how you like.” He’s got a whole mental future mapped out: house, ring, kids(if you want, he doesn’t care as long as he gets you) , the works. He’s patient about the timeline because in his head it’s already decided.
Sex is intense and worshipful.
He fucks like he’s trying to crawl inside your soul. Slow and deep when he wants you to feel how much he loves you, rough and desperate when the obsession spikes. He never finishes first- your pleasure is literally his drug. Afterward he holds you so tight it’s hard to breathe, whispering shit like “You’re never getting rid of me. I’d burn the world down before I let you go.”
-He has a “I’ll wait forever” energy. You try to push him away? He just smiles softly and says, “Take your time, baby. I’m not going anywhere.” Then he proves it by being even more present. Distance makes him worse. He’ll send good-morning texts at 6:01 AM and good-night voice notes where he sounds a little wrecked because he misses you.
Soft moments exist. In rare quiet times he admits he’s terrified of losing you, that you’re the only thing that’s ever made him feel alive. He’ll bury his face in your neck and just breathe you in like he needs you to survive. Those moments make the persistence almost endearing… almost.
Dark side: He’s not above low-key sabotage if you try too hard to leave. “Accidentally” deleting dating apps off your phone, “running into” your friends and charming them so they’re on his side, showing up with your spare key he definitely wasn’t supposed to copy. Threatening any male interests’ life- He’ll never hurt you, but he will make sure you have no easy escape route.
Nickname collection: Baby, princess, wifey, boss. He uses them interchangeably depending on how feral he’s feeling.
Endgame: He genuinely believes you two are soulmates and that you’ll eventually accept it. Until then he’s content being your shadow, your bodyguard, your lover, your stalker, your everything. Good luck ever shaking him he’s not built to quit.
in which satoru gets glasses and his baby daughter can't recognise him! (ó﹏ò｡)
part 1 of my 1k celebratory series, i hope you enjoyy!!<3
content: husband!gojo x reader, dadjo fluff ♡⸝⸝ word count: 2.1k
“ta-da!”
you’re busy cutting up fruit for your daughter when you hear your husband’s voice followed by the sound of the front door clicking shut, signalling his arrival home. the familiar sound of him shrugging off his coat and making his way to the kitchen reaches your ears, and so you quickly finish up cutting the strawberries and apple slices before turning your attention to the kitchen doorway.
“hey toru—” you begin. before you can finish, however, you’re forced to cut your own words off, your eyes falling upon satoru’s face. a blank, slightly puzzled expression crosses your features.
“…since when did you have glasses?”
“since today!” he grins, slipping them off and turning them over in his hands. “nanami was saying how my eyesight has been kinda lacking recently, and i thought he had been overreacting buuut…guess he was right!” he nods his head towards the glasses in his hands with an eager smile.
sighing and rinsing your hands clean of the fruit juice, you reach forward to take the glasses into your own hands, wanting to see them for yourself. “you don’t give the poor man enough credit, you know.”
“…okay rude! i give him plenty of credit where it’s due!” he retorts. he watches with a fond expression as you hold the glasses out in front of you, your brows furrowed as you test the lenses.
“wow, satoru!” you gasp jokingly. “i always thought that you were the strongest, but it seems like your prescription is even stronger!”
that earns you one of his signature pouts, his lip jutted out dramatically as he feigns offence, snatching the glasses back from your grasp and fixing them atop his face again.
“hey! i’ll have you know that i’m plenty stronger than my prescription.”
you roll your eyes playfully before you hear the sound of soft footsteps approaching from the living room, followed by an excited squeal. you turn to see your daughter rushing into the kitchen and wrapping her arms around her father’s leg, and satoru lifts her up so that he’s holding her against his chest, face-to-face with her now.
“papa! papa come look, i made a princess castle with the big blocks and—” she cuts her words off abruptly.
what had been an excited expression — eyes blown wide and plump cheeks pulled into a huge smile — quickly turns into one of…confusion. she simply pauses and pulls her head backwards slightly to inspect him, staring blankly.
“..who are you?” she mumbles, and satoru wishes he could ignore the tone of disgust in her words. he forces out a tiny laugh.
“who am i? what do you mean, sweetheart?” he asks, sticking out his lip playfully once more. he leans forward to press a quick, teasing kiss to her nose, only for her to whine and lightly push his face away with her hand.
she turns her body in his arms so that she’s facing you, evidently having decided that the first answer wasn't satisfactory enough for her. “mama, who is he?”
the gasp that satoru lets out upon realising that she’s actually serious is comically loud. he simply stays stood there with a hurt expression, staring through thick lenses at his miniature version and looking as though she’s just scalded him.
“don’t you recognise me?” his voice has already raised an octave, tone offended, and he hastens to pull off the glasses, resolutely placing them upon the tabletop. “see, i’m your father..!” he turns to you now, eyes desperate, and it takes everything in you not to giggle. “sweets, tell her i’m her father!”
“toru, don’t be silly.” you make your way closer to where he’s stood with your daughter in his arms, pressing a quick kiss to her hair before speaking once more. “you recognise papa, right?”
“umm…” she studies his face, this time without him wearing the glasses, before nodding. “..mhm!” your daughter nods enthusiastically, a gummy smile stretching across her face once more. she extends her hands out to touch satoru’s cheeks, as though checking he’s really there in front of her. then, with a tiny satisfied nod to herself, she leans back into him, resting her head against his chest.
“papa, you looked funny.” she mumbles. you can’t help but laugh, but judging by the look on satoru’s face, the situation is anything but amusing.
“i looked…funny?” he mimics, his tone tainted with disbelief and a touch of devastation. his brows are pinched together, looking scandalised as he peers down at your daughter in his arms as she speaks.
“mhm…like different funny.”
you’re sure you can practically hear satoru’s heart shattering in that moment, his face falling completely. he stays stood there, studying your daughter’s face in silence before seeming to come to a decision, decidedly snatching his glasses off the table and inspecting them.
“then i won’t wear them.”
“what? toru, you have to!” you cut in, but his features are already set in that stubborn face that you recognise all too well.
“no — my own daughter doesn’t recognise me!” he places heavy emphasis on the word daughter, the betrayal and hurt evident in his voice. you roll your eyes, trying to hold back an exasperated sigh at his dramatics.
“satoru, you need to be able to see things — surely you’re not serious!” you protest.
“i’m super serious! never again.”
-
a tiny, foolish part of you had thought — or rather, hoped — that he’d been joking, that it was another one of his silly over-exaggerations, a dramatic declaration in the heat of the moment. except it wasn’t.
because now you’re sat watching satoru squint at his phone for the hundredth time in the past hour, his handsome features practically stuck in place now in that same, discomforted expression. you hadn’t planned on bringing up the glasses again, already expecting the conversation to be a losing battle, but after a while you’d decided that you really couldn’t bear to watch him like that anymore.
“satoru…” you begin, not knowing quite how to get through to the 6’3” child in front of you. before you can begin, however, he cuts you off, having already anticipated your concern.
“i’m fine!” he insists, defiantly as ever. you notice your daughter’s head raise from where she’s doodling with her crayons, eagerly turning her head between you and her father in interest.
“you literally can’t see properly.” you retort.
“better that than have my own daughter not recognise me..” he grumbles. “she even said i look funny!”
you bite your tongue, deciding not to argue — instead, you let him continue scrolling on his phone, noting the way he continues to struggle to read the words on screen.
the same problem seems to crop up later, too, when he’s watching a movie with your daughter. you’re comfortably curled up on the couch, a blanket thrown over your lap, meanwhile satoru and your daughter are both laying on their stomachs inside the makeshift den they’d constructed earlier. in all honesty, you’d better describe it as a mess of cushions and blankets simply propped up haphazardly — in fact, you can even see your husband’s long legs half sticking out from the back of the den.
movie nights have become a common occurrence for your little family, and it’s no secret that your husband absolutely does not take family nights lightly.
whether it’s board game nights, late-night arts and crafts sessions at the kitchen table or simply time for bedtime stories, he always goes out of his way to make sure it’s as enjoyable as possible for your daughter— and movie nights are no exception. so, in true satoru gojo fashion, the den floor is cluttered with snacks: a bowl of strawberries, a couple of mini juice cartons, some popcorn and a plate of freshly-baked brownies among others. honestly, how your daughter will make it to adulthood without developing dreadful cavities is beyond you.
they both lay there on their stomachs, brownie crumbs all over your daughter’s mouth and cheeks and a half-bitten strawberry in satoru’s free hand from when he’d been feeding her. every so often she rests her head against his shoulder, her eyes still glued to the tv screen, and during the funnier scenes of the movie she turns her head towards his, searching his face for laughter before joining in and giggling loudly.
everything about the night is perfect, except for one tiny problem. satoru can’t see.
he tries to focus his vision, tries to make out the figures of the characters on screen as best as he can, but they’re too blurry, the screen a mess of fuzzy outlines and colours.
truth be told, it probably wouldn’t matter too much anyway, considering the fact that he knows the movie inside-out from having rewatched it a million times with your daughter. but nonetheless, he keeps squinting at the screen for several minutes, trying to force himself to register what exactly he’s looking at, brows knitted in careful concentration.
unfortunately for him, however, your four year old is scarily perceptive when she wants to be. she notices his strange behaviour — the repeated eye straining, the way his lip is jutted out subconsciously in mild frustration, the tiny irritated groans that leave his throat every few minutes— before finally speaking up.
“what are you doing?” she tilts her head to the side, wide blue eyes observing her father’s face.
“nothing! just focus on the movie, okay?” he beams wide, but the look on her face tells him that she isn’t entirely convinced. she simply stares at him, studying his expression for a few seconds before seeming to have an idea.
your daughter suddenly hops up from inside the den with such haste that you jolt from your own spot on the sofa. you and satoru both turn to exchange a brief confused look, hearing the pitter-patter of her feet against the floors as she rushes through the house.
“you’re missing the movie!” your husband calls out, but it’s in vain — your daughter doesn’t respond, strangely unbothered. in any other situation she’d never miss a single second of movie night this easily. satoru fumbles with the mess of cushions and snacks on the floor before finally retrieving the remote and pausing the movie, and with a sigh, he rests his head against his palm, turning to face you.
“…wonder what she’s doing..” he mutters, and you nod in agreement.
after a few short minutes your daughter finally returns, plopping down firmly by satoru’s side and placing down his glasses case.
“papa, you need to wear these!” she says determinedly. her tone is reminiscent of your own one earlier, and the similarity makes satoru’s heart swell for a brief moment.
she struggles to open the case at first, her fingers fumbling over the box before your husband intervenes. he carefully moves her hands away so that she won’t trap her fingers, a fond smile on his face at her puffed out cheeks and her determined expression — or at least, whatever parts of those features he’s actually able to distinguish properly without his glasses on. slowly, she picks the glasses up and tries to put them onto satoru’s face, narrowly avoiding poking his eyes out in the process.
with the guidance of your husband’s hands atop hers, she manages to finally slide the glasses onto his face properly so that they’re resting atop his nose now. he blinks at the sudden change in his vision, his daughter’s soft wispy pigtails and sticky food-covered cheeks now coming into vision clearly.
it’s an odd moment for satoru, as though he’s rediscovering the sensation of being a father again. he finally feels able to pinpoint the exact position of her sweet features once more, her face in much clearly quality than ever before, and for a second he can’t remember why he’d ever refused to wear his glasses in the first place.
that is, until she seems to decide to remind him.
“yay! you don’t look too funny papa, so you can still wear them, okay?” she’s wearing a stern expression as she holds his face securely in place with both her hands, waiting for confirmation that he understands. he chuckles.
“…i don’t look too funny?” he echoes her words, a single brow raised in interest.
“yeah! you only look a little funny, so it’s okay to wear them.”
satoru can’t even find it in himself to feign offence — if anything, he laughs harder before nodding.
“okay then. thanks for the permission, sweetheart.”
author's notes: AHHH part one is finally up — i’m so sorry for the delay and i hope you guys like itt!! i’m hoping to get the rest of the parts done much faster than this one
You never understood why everyone was obsessed with him.
He was the type of boy whose name echoed through every hallway. Everyone waved to him. Girls whispered whenever he passed, and boys somehow ended up following him without realizing it.
Bright blond hair.
Lazy eyes.
A smile that could convince people the sun revolved around him.
You?
You didn’t care.
Not because you hated him.
Because he simply belonged to a world that had nothing to do with yours.
𓂃۶ৎ
The first time you noticed him was outside the building.
He was surrounded by a crowd, laughing effortlessly while people practically leaned toward him.
You walked past with your headphones on.
Didn’t even glance twice.
…
The second time…
He was casually walking around.
Again, surrounded.
Again, smiling.
You walked past without looking.
…
The third.
The cafeteria.
Fourth.
The train station.
Fifth.
The convenience store two neighborhoods away.
Sixth.
A cafe you only visited once every few months.
“…”
That one made you pause.
Strange.
What were the chances?
You shrugged it off.
He was popular.
Maybe he just…went everywhere.
𓂃۶ৎ
Weeks passed.
Then months.
Everywhere.
Always.
Like he was a recurring background character in your life.
You’d catch a glimpse of blond hair in the distance.
Turn a corner.
There he was.
Walking across campus.
Buying coffee.
Standing on the opposite side of the road.
Waiting for a train.
Always nearby.
Never approaching.
Never speaking.
Never even acknowledging your existence.
It became almost comforting.
Until…
One rainy afternoon.
You forgot your jacket.
Great.
You sighed and tucked your bag over your head before jogging across campus.
The rain blurred your vision.
Students scattered in every direction.
Then—
You bumped into someone.
“Oh—sorry!”
You stepped back.
“…”
Blue-gray eyes met yours.
For the first time…
He looked directly at you.
His expression froze.
The smile he always wore…
Vanished.
The noisy crowd behind him seemed to disappear.
Everything became silent.
His pupils widened just slightly.
As though…
He had found something.
“…”
“…”
You awkwardly bowed.
“Sorry.”
Then hurried away.
You didn’t notice…
He never took his eyes off your back.
“…”
“So that’s what your voice sounds like.”
He whispered to himself.
The corner of his lips curled upward.
Tiny.
Almost invisible.
“I was beginning to think I’d imagined it.”
𓂃۶ৎ
The next day…
Nothing changed.
Except…
He was always looking.
You felt it before you saw it.
Across the courtyard.
From another classroom.
Second floor.
Behind the library windows.
Whenever you instinctively glanced around…
His eyes were already there.
Watching.
Not smiling.
Just…
Watching.
𓂃۶ৎ
Your friend nudged you.
“…Do you know him?”
“Hm?”
“The popular guy.”
You looked over.
He was already looking away.
“No.”
“…”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“…”
Your friend frowned.
“That’s weird.”
“What is?”
“I swear he’s been staring at you all week.”
You laughed.
“Impossible.”
“He doesn’t even know my name.”
𓂃۶ৎ
Meanwhile.
On the rooftop.
He watched you through the gap in the fence.
“…”
“I know your name.”
His phone screen lit up.
Photos
4,872 images.
Folders neatly organized.
First Day.
Library.
Rain.
Favorite Hoodie.
Smiles.
Walking.
Buying milk.
Looking at cats.
Looking tired.
Looking lonely.
Another folder.
Locked.
Future.
He gently added today’s picture.
You laughing with your friend.
“So pretty.”
𓂃۶ৎ
That evening…
His bedroom looked ordinary.
Clean.
Minimalist.
Awards lined the shelves.
Perfect grades.
Perfect son.
Perfect student.
Inside the bottom drawer…
Hidden beneath folded clothes…
Was an entire notebook.
Every page.
About you.
𓂃۶ৎ
Usually leaves campus as soon as finished.
Wears headphones all the time if not with friends.
𓂃۶ৎ
Looks happier after playing with cat.
𓂃۶ৎ
Gets sick easily during winter.
Remember scarf.
𓂃۶ৎ
He traced your handwriting from an old worksheet someone accidentally left behind.
Smiling.
“You’ll catch another cold soon.”
“I should prepare medicine.”
𓂃۶ৎ
The next morning…
You opened your bag to get ready to study.
“…?”
Inside sat a neatly wrapped scarf.
No note.
No sender.
Just…
Your favorite color.
“…Weird.”
𓂃۶ৎ
You asked around.
Nobody knew.
𓂃۶ৎ
The next week…
Your favorite drink appeared on your desk.
𓂃۶ৎ
A week later…
The novel you wanted.
Sold out everywhere.
Somehow sitting inside your bag.
𓂃۶ৎ
Then…
The stray cat you’d been feeding suddenly wore a new collar.
Exactly the one you had stared at online.
Without buying.
“…”
A cold feeling crept up your spine.
𓂃۶ৎ
You started taking different routes home.
He still appeared.
Different train.
Different street.
Different café.
Always.
Always.
Always.
𓂃۶ৎ
One afternoon you deliberately enter inside an empty classroom which was different from your usual lecture class.
“If someone’s following me…”
You waited.
Ten minutes.
Twenty.
Thirty.
Silence.
You sighed.
“I really am imagining things.”
You stepped into the hallway.
“…”
“…”
He stood there.
As though he’d been waiting outside the entire time.
His expression remained calm.
Almost gentle.
“…Hello.”
The first word he had ever spoken to you.
Your stomach dropped.
“H-Hi…”
He smiled softly.
“I finally get to meet you.”
“…”
“What?”
He tilted his head.
“I’ve been waiting.”
“…”
“For three years.”
The hallway suddenly felt far too quiet.
You forced a laugh.
“We’ve…never talked.”
“I know.”
His smile deepened.
“But I know everything else.”
“…”
“…”
“…Everything?”
He stepped closer.
Not threatening.
Not hurried.
Simply inevitable.
“I know what makes you smile.”
Another step.
“I know what makes you cry.”
Another.
“I know when you skip breakfast.”
Your heartbeat thundered.
“When you’re lonely.”
“When you pretend you’re okay.”
“When your birthday is.”
“When your nightmares get bad.”
“…”
He reached out…
Not to grab you.
Only to gently brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
His touch was unbelievably careful.
As if you were made of glass.
“You’ve looked at me hundreds of times.”
His voice was almost affectionate.
“But…”
A soft chuckle escaped him.
“You never actually saw me.”
His eyes held yours.
Warm.
Patient.
”˙ɓuıuuıɓǝq ǝɥʇ ǝɔuıs noʎ ǝpısǝq uǝǝq ǝʌ’I“
His smile returned.
The same dazzling smile everyone adored.
Only now…
You understood something no one else did.
It was the smile that never reached the eyes.
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