Idia Drabble, Fluff, Lots Of Couple Banter

This is the Lucky Ace. Reblog to recieve a wad of cash that is oddly specific to your current needs.

Idia never thought he’d be the type to have a muse. Inspiration wasn’t something he sought—it either struck at odd hours between gaming marathons or never came at all. You, on the other hand, were the complete opposite.

You were effortlessly poetic, weaving words together like they were spun from moonlight and ink. You had a way of finding beauty in things he never noticed about himself, piecing together metaphors and prose that made him sound like something out of a fairytale.

A writer who’s ultimate weapon is a pen and paper.

You write like a poet who can never run out of words.

Effortlessly so.

The first time you showed him one of your poems, he had expected it to be about something grand and abstract—love, nature, time. Instead, it was about him.

It wasn’t grandiose or overly sentimental. It was simple. Soft. A quiet sort of admiration captured in careful lines—how his hair burned like foxfire in the dark, how his voice curled around words like an autumn breeze, how the glow of his screen reflected in his yellow eyes like constellations trapped in glass.

He had read it once, then twice, then a third time, his heart hammering so hard he thought it might short-circuit his entire nervous system.

God, it’s like reading a declaration of love from years ago.

“I-I… um… wow…” he had stammered, his fingers twitching at his sleeves. “You… wrote this?”

You simply laughed.

“Of course I did. Who else would I write about?”

He didn’t know how to answer that.

So instead, he drew.

A few days after your conversation, that is.

Idia had always been good at art—sketching was second nature to him, a quiet hobby he indulged in when he needed to clear his head. But now, every idle doodle, every sketch in the margins of his notebooks, was of you.

The tilt of your head when you peered into his screen. The way your eyes softened when you looked at him. The delicate curve of your fingers as you held your pen, lost in thought.

He didn’t show you at first. It felt too raw, too personal. Like, if you saw it, you’d know just how much space you had carved into his thoughts, how easily you had settled into his world without even trying.

Maybe that was the point.

To show you how much you meant to him.

But then, one evening, as you sat together in his room—you’re lost in your writing, your boyfriend sketching absentmindedly—you caught a glimpse of his notebook and gasped.

“Is that me?”

Idia tensed, his fingers twitching as if to slam the book shut. But you had already leaned over, your gaze locked onto the pages, your eyes wide as you traced the lines of your own face on the paper.

“You’re insane,” you whispered, your voice filled with awe.

“This is amazing.”

He hunched his shoulders, his hair flickering between shades of pink and blue. “It’s not a big deal…”

“It is to me.”

Your fingers brushed against his, and Idia felt the warmth of your touch settle deep in his chest.

“You write about me,” he muttered, his voice quiet.

“I guess… this is how I write about you.”

You smiled, nodding. “Then I guess we’re even.”

His heart pounded, his fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie.

“Y-Yeah… even…”

But you weren’t done looking. You turned the pages slowly, taking in every sketch. Some were detailed, inked carefully with soft shading that made your features stand out, while others were simple pencil sketches, quick and loose. Some had little notes scribbled in the margins—things like Her smile was really pretty today or I think she’d like this outfit—and the further you flipped, the harder it became for Idia to breathe.

“You’ve been drawing me this whole time?” you asked.

Idia swallowed hard, feeling like his soul was about to eject from his body. “I-I mean… you’re… I like drawing you.”

You hummed, shaking your head. “No one’s ever drawn me before,” you admitted. “And definitely not like this. It’s like a commissioned self-portrait.”

He ducked his head against his desk. It’s all too much for him, and yet, he yearns for more.

“Well… no one’s ever written about me before either.”

You reached for your notebook and flipped to a page filled with fresh ink. “I wrote something new,” you told him. “Do you want to hear it?”

Idia hesitated, but he nodded.

You took a breath, then began reading.

Your voice was steady and soft, weaving words like magic.

You spoke of constellations hidden in the depths of golden eyes, of firelight that flickered and burned but never consumed. Of hands that danced over sketchbooks, creating entire worlds with nothing but ink and quiet devotion. Of a boy who lived in shadows and blue-tinted neon, who never realized he shone just as brightly as the screens he spent hid behind on.

By the time you finished, Idia was gripping his sketchbook so tightly his knuckles were almost turning white.

“…T-That’s—” His voice cracked, his throat dry. “That’s… about me?”

“Of course, Idia.”

His mind was racing, his chest aching with something he didn’t know how to name. He didn’t understand how you saw this side of him—a version of him that is raw—in ways he had never expected. And for once, instead of wanting to hide, he wanted to let you see more.

Slowly, hesitantly, he reached for his pencil and turned to a fresh page. “C-Can I draw you again?”

Your smile grew, and you leaned into his side, your fingers resting over his. “Only if you let me write about you again.”

Idia let out a shaky breath, his heart pounding.

“Deal.”

But somehow, he knew he would never stop drawing you. Even if time catches up to him and he could no longer hold a pencil. There will always be a way for him to draw his muse.

Just as he knew you would never stop writing about him.

Two halves of the same story—lines and words, ink and paper, art and poetry intertwined.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

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:3c

That shit hurted

everythingoes | kth & jjk

Summary: He is all the things you feel when fireworks light up the night sky. But everything is temporary and everything goes, just like those very same fireworks.

Pairing: Fuckboy!Taehyung x Reader; Jungkook x Reader

Genre: ANGST, so much fucking angst, smut, (barely there) fluff

Word Count: 24k

Warnings: cheating, sweet taehyung being a dick (I’m sorry tiger cub, I love you), a toxic relationship, possessive Taehyung, sex while semi-intoxicated (they can still consent), oral (fem and male receiving), panty play? I think, taehyung with a monster schlong, deep throating, face fucking, dirty talk, breast play, very slight cock/body worship, face sitting/riding, squirting, cum eating, riding, taehyung having a crazy amount of stamina, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, spanking, forced orgasm, creampie, slight breeding kink

A/N: Highkey, I was listening to mono when I came up with this plot and then when I was typing a certain scene. I wonder if you can guess exactly what scene that is lmao. In other news, this AU fried my last remaining brain cell and honestly I just want to rest for three years. My fingers are practically number from typing. UNEDITED because I’m DONE with it (for now). I’ll edit when my brain cells regenerate

Keep reading

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Hippity-Hop into Your Heart

Summary: Usahara is all too happy to play the role of boyfriend so you can shake off a creep, but of course, the night ends with him developing an all too real crush. 4.1 k A/N: Art from Gaku Kaze! Usahara Tobikichi/F!Reader. I have a soft spot for this dumb bunny and I think he needs more love. Enjoy! TW: Stalking, cursing (mostly for reader getting called a b*tch by said stalker).

Usahara’s drunk. Again. 

The night has hardly begun and he keeps slumping over the table, cheeks flushed and eyes bleary while he struggles to sit upright. “I wish I was funny.”

“I wish you were sober.” Uramichi slides another glass of water, moving aside the collection of empty shot glasses. “I thought we were only doing beer.”

“We should order motsu nikomi for him.” Kumatani suggests; he’s only on his third beer. 

They did start a bit later than expected for a weeknight. There’s hardly anyone else at the tables around them; hopefully Usahara doesn’t end up getting them kicked out for disturbing the peace. A server comes around with their next round of beers and Kumatani speaks up to request more water while they look over their options for food.

“I want gyoza!” Usahara slurs. “And a girlfriend. Ugh. I really want a girlfriend.” 

“You can have one of those things.” Kumatani glances at the paper menu. “Seeing as how gyoza’s on the menu and you’re a degenerate, let’s keep this based in reality.”

“I’m not a general!”

“Let’s leave him here.” Uramichi whispers, leaning over to Kumatani on his left. “He’ll pass out soon enough.”

“I’m drunk, not deaf.” Usahara grumbles; he sighs and sheds his jacket. “It’s hot. Can we get ice cream?”

“Why do you drink so much when you know you can’t handle booze?” Kumatani rests his chin on his hand. “If you think I’m paying your tab, you’ve got another thing-”

“Honey! There you are, sorry I’m late, I was stuck at the office.”

Usahara raises his head up; there’s a girl sliding into the booth seat next to him. For a split second, he thinks he might be having a hallucination, but you scoot closer and touch his arm with a strained smile. Not to mention Uramichi and Kumatani are also staring at him and you, visibly taken aback at this stranger joining their table, so Usahara is 100% positive the alcohol isn’t making him see things.

“I’m sorry.” You’re leaning in to whisper in his ear, still smiling but now your voice is considerably less cheerful. “A man’s been following me since I left my job.”

“What?” Usahara straightens up and stares at you, bewildered, trying to keep his tone low. “Did he come in?”

“He followed every time I changed directions.” You pretend to look at Uramichi and Kumatani but you’re actually sneaking a peek at the entrance. “He’s outside in the smoking area. I think he’s waiting.”

Usahara glances at the door; there is a man outside. It’s not easy to make his features out, but he can see him turn his head to look into the bar. 

“I’m sorry to intrude.” You drop your fake smile. “This place is the closest building with people and I thought he would keep following me if I sat down by myself. Could I wait here until he leaves? I’ll pay for your next round.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Uramichi frowns. “Do you want to call the police?”

“No, I mean, what could they do?” You release your grip on Usahara’s arm and give him some space. “He could just say he’s going the same way as me. I just didn’t want him to know where I live.”

“I’m going out there.” Kumatani stands up. 

“Oh please don’t!” You say hurriedly. “You really don’t have to get involved.”

“Scum like that need to have their asses kicked before they get the message. He looks weak.” Kumatani glares over at the door. “I’m not gonna be intimidated by some gross stalker.”

“But he could have a knife.” You say worriedly. “Even if he doesn’t, you’ll get in trouble for making things physical. Please, um…”

“Kumatani.” Usahara supplies. “He’s Kumatani, I’m Usahara, and that sad sack over there is Uramichi-”

“Kumantani, let’s use this drunk as a human shield.” Uramichi addresses the still standing Kumatani but his cold eyes are directly on Usahara’s. “If the creep has a knife, you’ll do your part as a concerned citizen, right?”

You glance around at the three of them. “Look, I already feel bad to bother you guys. I can get a ride; I doubt he’ll chase after a car, you know? I just,” you swallow hard; the last thing you want to do is start crying, not now in front of these strangers you had basically forced to be involved in this. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt, okay?”

“Alright.” Kumatani finally takes his seat. “You’ve got a good point.”

“You must have been scared.” Uramichi looks at you with some sympathy. “I’m not eager to do any heroics myself and I don’t blame you for not wanting to stir the pot. How far away is your work?”

“About ten minutes. I work for a family, well, a few different families in the area.” You explain; your teeth have stopped chattering and your heart has stopped pounding. “I actually do babysitting and cleaning jobs. Today the parents went out for a date: they offered to drive me home, but they had a few drinks at dinner and I didn’t want to spend money on a ride share app when my place is so close. I actually come here every now and then to wind down after work…I didn’t think I’d be coming in tonight to escape that asshole.”

“Uh, so,"  Usahara clears his throat. “Why did you sit next to me? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Dude.”

“Are you serious?”

“What?” Usahara holds up his hands as if to block himself from the death glares being shot his way. “Just curious!”

“The seat next to you was empty.” You answer honestly. “Why else would I?”

“Because I’m…cute?” Usahara grins but it fades as you raise an eyebrow at him. “Sorry. Okay, no more joking: are you hungry? You might as well eat something, my treat.”

“I thought you were broke?” Kumatani snips. “I told you, I’m not covering your tab.” he turns to you. “Order what you want.”

“Ice cold.” Usahara crosses his arms. “I just so happen to have some extra funds. I helped my folks in their store earlier, so they floated me a few bucks.” he winks at you. “Since I’m playing your boyfriend, I should treat my girl to something nice.”

“You made your poor parents pay you for helping them?” Uramichi shakes his head somberly. “I didn’t think you could sink lower.”

“They insisted! I’m not gonna turn down money in this economy.”

“Don’t blame the economy for your piss poor spending habits.”

“They’re so mean.” Usahara pouts to you. “Aren’t you going to stand up for your boyfriend?”

You look at him for a moment before your face breaks out into a smile, a real one. Before you can stop, a laugh escapes you and you keep laughing until you start wheezing slightly. 

“Wow, I think you broke her psyche.” Uramichi comments lightly. 

“I’m so-sorry, really, I don’t mean to laugh at you!” Your voice cracks as you press your hands to your mouth. “Usahara? I’m sorry, you’ve all been so great to help me out.”

“I’m glad.” Usahara smiles bashfully, rubbing the back of his head; he realizes he must seem hilariously pathetic, but hey, it’s not like this is a real date. “If you’re laughing, it means you’re feeling better, yeah?”

Your giggles die off and you wipe your eyes. “I am.” with a deep sigh, you’re able to calm down and breathe normally. “I was really scared. Thank you. I feel better mostly.”

“You need a good laugh, I’m your guy.” Usahara hands you his untouched glass of water. “Here, it’s just plain water. Do you want a beer or something?”

“You know what? I could use a drink.” You confess tiredly. “So, what brings you guys here?”

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

Nearly two hours pass in the blink of an eye; Usahara plays his role well. He pours you drinks, stays close, but not too close to you, and even hand fed you a couple of snacks. To the casual observer, the four of you would never know you were all strangers.

Despite the cordial mood, Usahara kept up the charade, just in case the man outside was still lurking around, though they haven’t seen his profile in the window for some time now. It’s an unfortunate truth that some men will only back off if they know a girl already has a boyfriend who can potentially beat them up. Usahara, although not quite as intimidating looking in comparison to his friends, is the tallest and he does spend a good amount of time training on his own. He’s confident that if nothing else, all three of them are more than enough to take down one shady weirdo. 

It’s too bad though. Usahara can't smother the twinge of bit guilt he feels at how much fun he’s having; there’s no need for him to put up a front or try to play it cool since this is very much not a date. There’s no pressure to look good in front of you, so Usahara can relax and not think about what he says too much or how he holds himself. 

“I’ve never heard of that.”

“It’s awesome!” You tell him excitedly, hands grabbing onto his arm as if to shake sense into him. “An absolute classic, how the heck have you never heard of Killer Clowns from Another Dimension? Do you even watch movies?”

“Sometimes” Usahara sips a new glass of water you made him order. “I can’t believe you’re judging me.”

“I saw it.” Kumatani raises his hand. “The effects are next level.”

“A man of culture.” You give him a thumbs up. “This guy knows. Uramichi, make Usahara apologize.”

“Don’t drag me into this.” Uramichi drones. “I don’t get what any of you are saying.”

“Now who needs to watch more movies.” 

“I saw one recently.” Uramichi cocks his head to the side. “It was a comedy; some idiot didn’t know when to stop running his mouth so his co worker buries him alive.”

“That’s a horror movie! If I go missing, you’re gonna be the first one the cops talk to.” Usahara clings to your arm. “Babe, tell him to leave me alone.”

“If you coddle him, he’ll never learn to shut his trap.”

“There, there, honey bunny.” You pat Usahara’s head lightly. “I promise to light a candle for you until they find the body.”

“You won’t even look for me?!”

“I think it’s more likely you’ll be disposed of by some loan sharks.” Kumatani deadpans but even he has a hint of a smirk on his lips. “Keep up the gambling and you’ll be found in a river instead of a shallow grave.”

“You guys are terrible and when I hit the jackpot none of you are seeing a cent.” Usahara tells them before leaning his head on your shoulder, sticking his tongue out at the both of them. “She’s been way nice to me and we only just met.”

“Because she doesn’t know how insufferable you are yet.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” You glance down at Usahara as he gives you puppy eyes. “He’s doing a pretty good job of letting me know.”

“Babe, not cool.” 

“Sorry, honey.” You giggle and poke his flushed cheek; it’s funny how comfortable you feel right now and you don’t think it’s because of the beers. Maybe it’s because Usahara has no filter; you were so tense before, yet now you’re joking and chatting like this was the plan, to show up and hang out with these odd characters. “So, what would you do if you won the lottery?”

“Hm…”

“You should pay your rent on time.” Uramichi remarks; he’s eating his own plate of mackerel, sashimi style. “It would be nice to never have to get up for work again.”

“I want to take time off and buy a boat.” Kumatani closes his eyes. “Just floating out to sea, nice and quiet, fresh saltwater air.”

“Lame.”

“Usahara.” You smack his shoulder lightly. “Knock it off.”

“Hey why are you defending that jerk?” 

“This jerk is going to leave you to pay for all our food and drinks if you keep running your mouth.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.” You shake your head somberly in disapproval as Usahara sulks. “Apologize or you’re sleeping on the couch, mister.”

“You sound more like a naggy wife than a cute girlfriend…”

“What’s that?”

“Sorry.” Usahara bows his head. “Sorry, Kumatani.”

“Good one.” Kumantani reaches over to refill your glass with a fresh pour of beer. “I’ll lend you the Man-Eating Salmon boxset if you can keep him quiet for the rest of the night.”

Usahara sips his water as you grin at Kumatani; oh well. He gets it. On paper, Kumatani makes sense: even he admits, it was pretty cool how Kumatani was going to go out there and take on that creep head on. It’s not Usahara’s style; he’s scared to get beat up and can barely throw a punch. Sue him. Still, it stings that even on this pretend date, Kumatani is still showing him up. 

“Hey guys?” It’s Uramichi that breaks the silence. “I think that creep got tired of waiting.”

They all look to the door; it’s not clear at first, but from your shaken expression, it’s apparent the man who’s made his way inside the bar is the same one who was stalking you. The smile is gone from your face; he’s approaching the table with an almost apologetic smile. He looks like a fairly normal person, to Usahara’s slight surprise, not like a thug or anything. Hell, he looks more intimidating. 

“Sorry to bother you, but I was hoping to get your number?” 

“What?” You sink into your seat. “That’s why you followed me?”

“Followed? I didn’t do anything like that.” The man looks surprised. “I go here all the time. I just saw you, thought I’d shoot my shot, you know? Besides, I don’t need anyone’s permission to come inside and have a drink-”

“Excuse me, but we’re trying to have dinner.” Usahara stares at the man blankly. “We saw you out there. If you just came to eat here coincidentally, why were you lurking outside?”

“I wasn’t-”

“Cut the bullshit.” Kumatani glares at the man, grip tightening on his mug like he wants to smash it against the offending stranger’s head. “Get the hint already, asshole.”

“You’re making everyone uncomfortable.” A dark look crosses Uramichi’s face; he’s poised as though he’s about to rise from his chair. “I think you ought to leave. She’s not interested.”

“Let her tell me herself-”

“She shouldn’t have to talk to some freak hounding her in the dark.” Usahara takes his jacket and drapes it over your shaking shoulders; he puts his arm around you. “You’re bothering my girlfriend; who do you think you are? She doesn’t owe you shit.” he forces himself to temper his anger and speaks to you gently. “Don’t feel like you have to say anything, okay babe? You haven’t done anything; it’s not your fault this loser is bugging you.”

“Fuck you.” The man snaps, posture rigid; he’s shaking, but he doesn’t move any closer. “I didn’t do anything, this bitch-”

“Don’t call her that!” Usahara stands up, but doesn’t try to attack the man; he stands in front of you, arms out slightly to obscure you from the stranger’s eyes. “You can either get your ass handed to you by my buddies-”

“Really? What are we, you bodyguards?”

Usahara ignores Kumantani’s dry stare. “-or leave in handcuffs.” he makes sure you’re blocked from view. “Your choice.”

“Go to hell.” 

But the confrontation ends there. With a sneer, the man storms out of the bar, rather quickly in fact; one of the staff members comes out from behind the counter with a concerned frown and asks if she needs to call the cops. Kumatani explains the situation and Uramichi actually goes himself to check if the man is just hiding around the corner of the bar. Usahara stays with you; despite how relieved you are, tears come to your eyes, dripping down your face.

“It’s okay.” Usahara hands you some napkins. “Do you need these?”

“Thank you.” You sniff and blow your nose into the offered napkins, but the tears aren’t stopping. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t even tell that asshole off, it was like I couldn’t even speak. I feel so dumb for being scared.”

“Not gonna lie, I was kinda scared too; Uramichi still has him beat in the dead eyed stare competition though.” Usahara chuckles; he tentatively holds one of your hands; your palm is clammy and your fingers are cold. “Sorry you had to go through that. I really thought he had left; I think the owner’s gonna call the cops anyway, dude seemed unhinged.”

“Oh, your jacket,”

“You can hold onto it. Your hand’s freezing.” Usahara ignores the slight chill he feels as you squeeze his hand. “You want me to get you a hot tea or something? Sorry, I have no clue what to do for these kinds of situations.”

“You’ve done more than enough.” You smile at him; your cheeks and eyes are red and puffy. “Thank you; the only reason I was able to feel okay at all is because of you guys being so kind. I’m so sorry for all this.”

Usahara feels bad for your gratitude; he’s also angry. He’s half tempted to go outside himself and chase after that creep, but more than that, he could cry himself from how sad you look, how you actually felt like you had to apologize for someone else's horrible actions.

“Don’t apologize. Hell, I didn’t do anything.” Usahara has to stop himself from trapping you in a big bear (bunny?) hug. “Look, do you want one of us to take you home? It’s past midnight and sometimes you get creepy drivers on that app if you request a ride this late at night.” Usahara averts his eyes to the table, trying to sound assuring despite the pit forming in his stomach. “Kumatani seems grumpy, but you won’t find anyone more reliable and Uramichi is a decent guy, even if he mopes a lot. They’ll keep you safe on your way home.”

“What about you?”

“Me?”

You look nervous. “I trust you…of course, you’ve already helped me so much. I can walk home alone, I’ll pretend to be on the phone.”

“No, not at all!” Usahara scrambles to talk. “I’d be totally okay walking you home! Just leave it to Tobikichi Usahara, you won’t have anything to worry about!”

“Are you trying a stand up routine?” Uramichi reenters the booth, unmoved by Usahara’s objections. “Anyway, I think he’s really gone this time, but the owner’s still going to call the police and have them take a look around. I guess this isn’t the first time they’ve had a problem, she’s pretty sure it’s the same guy too. With any luck, he won’t be bothering anyone again.”

“I hope so.” You wipe your eyes. “Thank you, Uramichi; where’s Kumatani?”

“Settling your tab.”

“What?!” You gap at him, almost expecting this to be a joke. “That’s way too much, I was going to pay for you guys-”

“Give it a rest.”

“Uramichi!” Usahara is scandalized. “This is why girls don’t talk to you.Would it kill you to show a little tact? She's upset.”

“Are you seriously telling me that? Who asked you anyway? Look, I’m just saying, it’s no trouble.” Uramichi’s eyes soften a smidge as he looks at you. “Don’t get me wrong, I really hope this never happens again, but tonight was almost fun.”

Kumatani approaches the table, tucking away what you assume is a receipt in his wallet. “Let’s finish up and call it a night: Usahara, you owe me half the tab.”

“Saw that coming.” Usahara shrugs and manages a weak smile. “Fair enough; but I’m only paying for her and my stuff.”

“Okay.” Kumatani chuckles. “I expected you to put up a fuss like usual. We should invite your girlfriend out every time we get drinks.”

“Dude!” Usahara’s already flushed face turns bright red. “Jokes on you, I’m never inviting you guys out with us.” he sends you a lopsided grin. “If I win the jackpot, it’ll be dinner for two, wherever you want to eat.”

“Actually,” You fiddle with the sleeve of his jacket. “I was hoping we could all do this again sometime; you know, without the looming threat of being stalked. Is that weird?”

“You want to put up with us again?” Kumatani asks, but you can tell he’s mostly teasing. 

“I guess.” Uramichi concedes. “It’s nice to have a buffer.”

“Buffer? What, so you can ignore me and get drunk in peace?” Usahara sighs dramatically. “Well, that’s fine with me; having another person around makes your mood swings less stressful-ow, ow, ow! I’m sorry, I give up, you’re not moody!”

Uramichi stops grinding his fists on either side of Usahara’s temples. “Just take her home already and try not to fall over in the street.”

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

“So, that’s us.” Usahara laughs somewhat embarrassed. “Did you really have fun tonight?”

“Yeah.” You say honestly; you’re leading the way to your apartment, walking slow. “You’re looking pale; do you always drink that much?”

“....yeah…” Usahara admits reluctantly. “I know, I know, I’m a mess.”

“Without a doubt.” 

“So mean…”

“But you’re very nice.” You offer him with a half smile. “And brave.”

“Me?”

“Uh huh.”

Usahara stares at you from the corner of his eye; the street lights overhead shine a dim glow on your hair and face. You’re still wearing his smelly old jacket, a grease stain on the front from dropping fried chicken on himself the other day. It looks better on you.

“Uh oh.” Usahara could slap himself. “Dude, not cool. She’s been through enough tonight. You were pretending so she could feel safe. It’s not like she actually wants to date you. Don’t let yourself get caught up in the moment. She’s a nice girl who needed your help and as it stands, she doesn’t think you’re a complete loser. Let’s keep it that way and call this a win.”

“This is me.” You come to a stop in front of a complex Usahara has gone past quite a few times before. “I’d invite you in for tea, but I should be going to bed. Can I give you my number? If you want to hang out again sometime.”

“Sure thing.” Usahara switches phones with you. “Call, text, whatever; let me know when you’re free.”

“I’ll do that.” You nod and hand him back his cellphone. “Wait, don’t go yet.”

Usahara was about to leave. “Is everything alright? I can wait until you get inside to-”

“You’re sweet.” You take off his jacket, putting it around his shoulders; you peck his jaw, not quite able to reach his cheek. “Next time, maybe we can go on a real date?”

“Am I passed out at the bar?” Usahara touches the spot where you had pressed your soft lips against his skin. “Sorry, let me get this straight: you want to see me again? Me, Usahara, specifically? For a date? Like a ‘date-date’?” he frowns, examines your face carefully. “Are you drunk? I don’t want to take advantage, I mean, you might have second thoughts later, which is totally okay, I-I don’t mind just being friends-!”

“I am a bit tipsy, but I don’t think that’s affecting anything.” You smile a little. “Maybe you should text me first thing in the morning? Just to make sure.”

“I’ll probably be super hungover.” Usahara looks at you like you’re too good to be real. “I usually go to this breakfast place, if you’re interested. It’s a cheap spot but the food’s good. Sorry, I-”

“Are you treating?”

“Yes! And I’ll pick you up?” Usahara is on pins and needles, utterly failing to reign in his excitement. “I have a spare helmet, if you don’t mind riding on a motorcycle. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

“It’s a date.” You start to walk away. “Tell the guys I said thank you, again. Do you think they’ll want to get breakfast too?”

“NO!” Usahara hates how his voice pitches so high in panic; he looks down at the ground, a little ashamed of himself, but not enough to be unselfish. He really is shameless. “At least for this time, I want it to be just us. You can see for yourself if I’m worth your time; I swear, you won’t be disappointed.”

“I’m holding you to that.” You smile playfully. “Honey bunny.”

Usahara blushes so much he thinks his face might be on fire, waving in a daze as you disappear into your apartment. 

“Oh crap." It almost hurts how hard Usahara's smiling as he thinks about seeing you again. "I'm so screwed.”

zhongli better come home

SNAPSHOT PT.3 GOJO SATORU

synopsis. nobara is ill and what better way to spend your day off than trying to figure out who your teacher's high school girlfriend is?

wc. 3.5k

tags. gojo x reader, fluff, one suggestive joke, reader is in gojo's class, implied utahime x shoko, only half proofread

a/n. it's nearly midnight and im so tired and I have to be up at 6 tomorrow but I needed to get this done. I hope there's not too many mistakes <3 the ending is kind of shit but idc :) jk i do pls like it

previous part / next part

“are you sure you’ll be okay alone?”

nobara lazily lifted her head from beneath her duvet, orange bangs clinging to her sweaty forehead as she let out a series of harsh coughs. megumi winced from the doorway, inching back ever so slightly - he'd already brought in a couple bottles of water and a box of tissues, he wasn't looking to contract whatever flu-like disease she had caught.

she rolled her eyes at his not-so-subtle antics and raised a weak thumbs up. “go on fushiguro, i know how much you're dying to spend the afternoon with itadori and sensei."

“haha,” megumi uttered with the most sarcastic tone he could muster. on second thoughts, maybe being sick for a week wouldn't be so bad. with nobara gone, there was no buffer for his teacher and classmate to pester. “call me if you get worse, you know the second years are useless.” 

nobara gave the younger boy a quick salute and small smile, “yes boss.”

she dropped her head back into her pillow and waited till she heard the door click shut till she slipped a little less than elegantly out of bed. whilst yes, there was no denying that she was definitely sick, she also had a mission she couldn’t give up on.

in the three weeks, four days and an unknown number of hours since she had found the dvd of her teacher in his youth, she had been putting all of her free time into trying to find you. megumi had been a dead end when she’d tried asking him about you again and, although nobara knew he had a soft spot for yuuji, she didn’t trust the pink haired boy to treat this situation sensitively.

initially, she’d even considered asking gojo about it but she decided against that pretty quickly. that could get awkward very quickly and she still had at least two years at the school. 

then, she’d moved onto searching through the school for traces of the alumni. all she’d managed to find was a single photo; one that included both kyoto and tokyo students. you were tucked into gojo’s side with your arm around shoko. geto was there too: him and gojo side by side as they always were in their teenage years. all of you were grinning and genuinely happy. where had it all gone so drastically wrong?

nobara wondered if it was geto’s fault that gojo’s class had been all but erased – an effort to forget that the worst curse user to live had in fact once been an aspiring sorcerer.

her next plan (and one she hadn’t full considered the logistics of completely just yet) was to watch every single video on the dvd because surely at some point, there would be some clue of who you were or where you’d gone. 

and even if there wasn’t, what else could she possibly do to amuse herself whilst she was on bed rest?

with a huff, she grabbed her laptop and dropped back onto her bed, tucking herself under the covers. opening up her laptop (her password being ‘12345’), she clicked unpause on a video she’d started the evening prior.

“–and that’s it basically.”

shoko waved her hands around, sat on yaga’s chair at the front of the classroom with a blackboard filled with scribbles behind her. it wasn’t anything legible, more like swirls and stars and nobara thinks that, if she looked hard enough, in the corner were two little stick men: gojo and geto. an unlit cigarette sat between her lips as she kicked her legs up onto her teacher’s desk. yaga clearly wasn’t in the room. 

“that made no sense whatsoever but woo! shoko!” you clapped, out of frame of the camera but enthusiastically nonetheless. the aforementioned girl narrowed her eyes at you across the classroom.

“that’s why i made a video, for you to look back on duh,” she tsked, nodding her head towards the camera. “plus it is easy. i expected dumb and dumber not to understand but you?” shoko patted away a few non-existent tears, taking on the role of disappointed parent and their once star student.

except you’d never really excelled in a class with two prodigies and shoko actually loved having the upperhand in at least one area of sorcery.

shoko picked up the camera, holding it upwards to give a full view of her outfit and hair – like it was any different to any other day she attended school. she swivelled the spinny chair over to an occupied desk, slotting next to it and moving the camera so that it captured all of you in the frame. gojo was sat down in the seat, glasses propped up onto his forehead as you sat sideways on his lap, unsuccessfully trying to decipher shoko’s teachings on the board.

“understanding reversed cursed techniques is way harder than understanding cursed techniques,” you tried to justify, pointing to the board that showed the squiggles that ‘symbolised’ performing a reversed curse technique. stealing gojo’s glasses and popping them on your own face, you popped a quick kiss to the side of his head, “plus, why waste my energy? you’ll figure it out so i never have to.”

“the things i do for you,” gojo sighed happily, dropping his head down onto your shoulder as his arms looped around your waist. the orange-haired sorcerer could practically hear yuuji’s gasps at the simple displays of affection and she almost felt bad for watching some of the clips without him.

almost.

nobara was never one for romance – drama, such as the fight between gojo and naoya, that was her scene. but even she couldn’t help herself from smiling at the teenage love between the two of you. maybe she should give her teacher more credit – there was more to the six foot two man than just his over the top personality and questionable teaching methods.

“this is meant to be an educational video! be less couple-y!” shoko complained, scowling and shuffling away on her chair again.

“oh, we could make it very educational,” gojo wiggled his eyebrows, the devious smirk on his lips only widening at your flushed expression as you tried to hit his chest. failing, though, as he isolated his cursed technique to uphold a thin barrier between your hand and the material of his uniform.

there was the teacher she knew – keen to annoy even those he loved the most.

shoko must’ve ended the video out of spite after his comment, because nobara found herself staring at a black screen. 

all that she’d learnt so far was that you couldn’t perform a reverse cursed technique as a teenager. maybe that was what killed you? if you were even dead, that is. but given the damage that curses can inflict on sorcerers, whether or not you were able to execute a reversed cursed technique could literally be the difference between walking away from a fight a little tired or in a body bag.

nobara coughed several times, picking up the open bottle of water from her bedside table and taking a sip to try and ease her scratchy throat. scrunching up her nose at the slight sting of swallowing, she clicked the next available video, not putting much thought into her choice.

it was you and nanami in frame in a library by the looks of it but if it was on campus, nobara didn’t know where. christmas decorations decorated the shelving units behind you – tinsels of gold, red and green, and hanging snowflakes. you were both wearing your usual uniform but you also had a santa hat on and tinsel lining your jacket.

“we’re the only two on campus,” you said quietly, “because everyone else’s parents loved them–”

“we couldn’t afford to go back for the holidays,” nanami cut you off, without glancing up from what he was writing. being from two non-sorcerer families was a disadvantage normally in terms of status and inherited techniques, but holidays were somehow worse. 

gojo had offered to help you out with a ticket back to your parents and had even extended an invitation for you to stay with him but you didn’t want to leave nanami alone (and although he didn’t seem grateful, he was glad you were there).

“it’s fine. academic comeback time,” you held up a book to the screen. being in a class with three exceptional sorcerers meant that studies were often sidelined to try and improve and perfect your techniques. holidays were usually your opportunity to catch up on the missed classwork and homework you’d fallen behind on.

nanami less so – if anything he was reading ahead. tokyo had never been renowned for academic scores until he’d come along.

“i don’t get why the camera needs to be here,” nanami complained.

“to record us study! it’s motivational.”

“sure,” nanami hummed quietly, reading over your shoulder at the work you’d already completed prior to setting up the camera. “that’s wrong. this is simple mutipli–” he paused at the sound of rustling and his brows furrowed as he tried to peer round the bookshelves. 

“merry christmas!” 

nobara snickered as nanami jumped at the sudden voice and appearance of three people behind him. gojo and geto were capable of masking their cursed energy (and shoko’s) so that they wouldn’t be noticed slipping into the library. although gojo had nearly screwed that up by pulling out a chair trying to trip up geto.

“ieiri!” you slipped out from your seat, running up and hugging your classmate. in the process, the camera got knocked so it was facing the ceiling. nobara frowned as she turned the brightness up on her laptop as if though that would somehow bring everyone back into grame. in the periphery of the screen she could make out just the heads and foreheads of the student sorcerers.

“hi satoru, missed you too satoru, so glad you came to see me satoru,” the white haired sorcerer pouted at the lack of attention and nobara is sure someone responded to him but the audio is muffled by two voices closer to the camera’s microphone.

“here!” haibara slipped into the seat next to nanami that you had occupied moments prior and held up a small wrapped box with red ribbon tied neatly in a bow. “i picked it up on the way. merry christmas nanamin!”

“thanks yu,” nanami smiled softly at his classmate. well that’s what nobara thought he did anyways, his eyes lifted into half crescents but she wasn’t actually sure what his mouth was doing out of frame. she’d never seen the blond so happy from a simple gesture.

she clicked off the video even though it still had thirty seconds left to go. it wasn’t much fun just watching people’s foreheads and she highly doubted that nanami was about to fix the camera’s position.

so you were from a non-sorcerer family and possibly not able to use reverse cursed technique. it wasn’t much but facts were still facts.

there was a little more deliberation before she chose her next video, settling herself back into her cushions as she waited for it to load.

the screen was suddenly very bright and nobara winced, turning it down as the surroundings came into focus. it was the inside of an arcade and the camera was pointed directly at one of those claw machines. inside were different sized plushies of spiderman and haibara was the one controlling the claw.

nobara could vaguely make out everyone’s reflection in the glass – to the left of haibara was geto (who was also the one holding onto the camera), gojo and you, and to his right was shoko, nanami and maybe also utahime? shoko had her arm around a blue haired girl either way.

“no! so close haibara,” you patted the youngest boy on the shoulder gently as the plushie he’d managed to pick up slipped from the claw’s clutches before it could be dropped down the chute and retrieved.

“can i try?” gojo asked and, from the annoyed groans, nobara assumed it wasn’t the first time he’d interjected.

“no, he’ll get it this time,” geto encouraged and gojo flashed him a look of disbelief. 

“if gojo wants a go he can have it!” haibara tried to step away from the machine but nanami halted him, slotting several more coins in the machine.

“take your go yu.”

“i’ll get you a slushie if you win,” shoko called out, clapping her hands together as he accepted his fate, hesitantly pressing down on the buttons as he peered through the side of the machine to get a better angle.

“haibara, haibara.” all of them were chanting his name now, and that was enough of a boost for him to finally get one of the plushies over the barrier and down the chute. the camera shook unsteadily as geto jumped and six of them crowded the youngest in a joint hug.

nobara could see yuuji in haibara and megumi in nanami and herself in shoko and she had to stop herself from tearing up. nanami and shoko seemed like strangers these days and she couldn’t even imagine waking up and yuuji not being the first one to greet her outside her room. 

we’ve got a mission here, she reminded herself, shaking her head lightly before moving onto the next clip.

“utahime, say hi,” you lowered the camera to the kyoto sorcerer’s height. she was sat cross-legged on the floor with a jacket flung haphazardly over her head to try and block out the sun that beamed down.

“hi!” utahime waved, smiling as you dropped down next to her. in her hands was a partially made daisy chain that she’d started to entertain herself whilst she waited for the tokyo students. despite being in kyoto, she’d always chosen to join yourself and shoko at events over her own classmates.

“who do you think is going to win the exchange event this year?” you asked with a raised brow and utahime grimaced.

“don’t make me compliment him.”

“are you implying that our edge is not because of me?” you looked at the camera with a disgusted expression, like you had the power to outshine the gojo satoru, she rolled her eyes – gojo’s dramatics were rubbing off on you. “for that i’m telling ieiri. you may be her girlfriend–”

utahime hit your arm and her eyes darted around for anyone that could’ve heard (like you were not sat alone in a field together whilst the others warmed up), “shut up! we’re not like that…”

you nodded with a condescending hum. “then kindly could you please stop calling her till three in the morning, some of us need our beauty sleep.”

“you’re only ever up at three am because you’re sneaking back from gojo’s dorm,” she retorted with a pointed look. you opened your mouth to defend yourself 

“true,” you jumped at shoko’s voice, swivelling your neck around to find the third piece of your trio standing behind you. shoko gestured towards your uniform jacket, “and if she pulls down her collar there’s a massive hickey i had to help cover up this morning.”

utahime erupted into a fit of giggles and you eyed the camera like it was some sitcom and you were breaking the fourth wall.

“you’re such an asshole.”

shoko pushed in between the two of you to make herself the middle. “you love me.”

nobara frowned as the video ended. while it wasn’t overly helpful, it reaffirmed the seriousness of your relationship with her teacher… but that was obvious from the lovesick heart eyes he constantly had in every video you were together.

although, she would have to show it to maki – the two had suspicions about the kyoto teacher and tokyo healer and this all but confirmed that they were right. 

nobara scrolled down till she found a thumbnail of you, geto and gojo sat around a table of food.

“zenin naoya,” you started, chopsticks in one hand as you held a bowl of food in the other. gojo pretended to vomit at the mention of his name. “yes toru, appropriate response, but have you heard about him and the kamo girl?”

geto nodded with a mouth full. “the one who studied abroad?”

“yes! her,” you waved your chopsticks in his direction, “anyways, she cheated on him.”

the dark haired sorcerer made a sound of shock, “they were together together?”

you nodded enthusiastically, offering gojo some of your rice. “mhmm, they got together new years eve.”

“that did not last long,” gojo snickered. nobara peered at the date in the corner of the screen in a retro, yellow font; 15 january 2006.

“best part? it’s not even the first time,” you revealed, picking up some salmon sushi off of gojo’s plate and quickly eating it.

“stop,” geto gasped and nobara was shocked. this man was a war criminal now, and yet ten years ago he seemed so far from it, gossiping like he was a teenage girl.

“which like i don’t get,” you frowned. “i dont know why he’s trying to save face over some two week old relationship. especially if she’s already cheated multiple times.”

“he’s just desperate because it’s the first girl to ever want to actually be with him.”

“oh yeah she really wants to be with him,” gojo uttered sarcastically with a sparkle in his eyes. he would have a party at the downfall of the zenin.

“are they staying together?”

“i think so,” you nodded, holding a hand over your mouth as you spoke and finished your mouthful. “it’s what me and shoko told him to do, well shoko. he facetimed shoko.” you clarified following gojo’s less than pleased expression. nobara didn’t doubt that naoya had caused some tension in your relationship (though she refused to believe it was ever because you had been interested in him) and she wished that you’d switch the topic solely onto that. that was the sort of drama she was after.

“youre telling me he facetimed ieiri to tell her he’d been cheated on?” geto could bearly finish the question without laughing and he shot gojo a look. “odds on him trying to make yn jealous.”

you couldn’t stop yourself from snorting. “oh yeah because hearing all that made me want to leave satoru for that thing.” sarcasm or not, your words were taken literally by your boyfriend who draped all one hundred and ninety centimetres of himself across your body. “oh my god you’re so heavy.”

“it’s just my love for you in physical form. don’t be mean,” he whined.

nobara didn’t even have the energy to laugh quietly at the pathetic nature of her teacher as she felt herself drifting off. it was fine, she thought, only a quick power nap. she’d earned it, watching all those clips expended lots of energy.

“kugisaki?” gojo gently knocked at the young girl’s door. he’d left yuuji and megumi to do laps to check nobara was still alive and well. the illness had made its way through half the school already and while it obviously wasn’t something fatal, he knew better than to take any risks.

he knocked again and waited thirty seconds before he opened the door enough just to peek in and–

“satoru.”

gojo felt his heart drop at the sound of your voice. one he hadn’t heard in almost two years and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so unsteady and thrown off guard. the mere sound of your voice had startled him and gotten more of an upper hand than any curse he’d ever had to exorcise.

although his world had stilled, reality continued on and he was forced to hear himself hum in response. he didn’t have to see the video to vividly remember the day, to remember the smell of the grass and your perfume that were coaxing him into a nap that would make you both late to yaga’s lecture.

“do you think we’ll still be together once high school is over?”

“hope so,” he murmured, half asleep, and gojo wished his younger self was more aware, telling you how much he wanted to be with you, savouring every second he had in your presence rather than sleeping it away. 

like that could’ve changed the outcome.

slipping into her room, gojo lifted the laptop off of her sleeping figure (definitely still alive and breathing). with a press of a button, the disk popped out and he set the device onto the ground as he contemplated what to do.

he could break it in half, make it seem like an accident that nobara hadn’t noticed in her ill state. or he could use his cursed technique and completely eviscerate it from existence.

or maybe he could keep it.

gojo gave nobara one last glance as he silently closed her door once more, grateful for the blindfold he wore as he headed back outside to his students.

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this tag list is insane ty all for the support

Chuuya would never but I can dream that he's comfortable enough to react like this infront of Mori -v-