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01zfan · 3 months

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rainy day | l. at

ex-boyfriend!anton x fem. reader | 5.8k words

anton brainrot is literally so real you guys im a victim

contains: breaking up, resolution, oral (fem. receiving), missionary, soft dom anton if you squint, reader is a pillow princess (good for her)

it was one of the few days during summer where everyone stayed inside. the usual cool breeze that came with the season was replaced with harsh winds that could knock anyone over. the clear sky was replaced with clouds and soon a rain that threatened to flood your city would come.

you loved when it rained. the inclement weather gave you an excuse to stay home and lay in bed all day. you wanted to use this day to recharge—your social battery had been running dangerously low since summer had started. you don’t know if it was because of your recent breakup and everyone taking pity on you but suddenly everyone had plans once it got warmer outside. it didn’t help that your roommate was a dj. giselle spent more time outside than in the apartment, various clubs being her place of work. and being giselle’s roommate came with its perks, you automatically getting to skip the lines to get in because you “know somebody”. you made it your personal mission to exercise this benefit almost every night.

being outside took your mind off the breakup. you couldn’t hear anton’s voice when music blasted in your ears or think about him when you were dancing around. you loved being out, but it started weighing heavy on your bones. between work and seeing your friends, you had been out almost everyday for the past month. you were grateful when you saw that a big storm was coming, like the weather gods wanted you to have a day off.

you don’t remember the last time you were able to lay in bed past 10AM. you wanted to thank the rain that pelted your window and the wind that made your apartment building creak. because of it you got to be underneath the comfort of your sheets. giselle must’ve felt the same way, because this was the first time you had seen her in pajamas relaxing on the couch. you found her laying on the couch in the living room when you went to the kitchen to get some food.

“any plans for today?” you asked giselle sarcastically.

giselle laughed and looked from the television to you.

“probably gonna work on some mixes for upcoming sets.” giselle says.

she turns back on her show and the sound of the television fills the room. you hum in acknowledgment as you open the fridge. you grab some leftovers to put in the microwave. after getting your food you head towards the couch and giselle lets her legs rest on the coffee table so you can sit down.

“grateful for a day off.” you sigh contently.

“oh i bet. you’re like a little party animal now.” giselle laughed.

you sat with giselle for a little bit before retiring back to your bed. giselle did the same as you about half an hour later. you could hear the television in the living room shut off followed by the sound of your roommate closing her door. soon after you could hear the low sound of music coming from giselle’s room as she went through several tracks.

you let yourself relax in bed as rain continued to fall. it came down sideways and in sheets, and you knew it would only be getting worse for the rest of the day.

as you looked outside at the rain, it was hard to not start thinking about anton. when your mind got the chance to slow down, you couldn’t stop it from thinking about him. he loved when it rained too, and loved napping the day away with you too. you had stopped crying about the breakup a long time ago; you knew that first loves were meant to fail. but if you thought about anton for too long or how warm he always felt you could feel a hole start to form in your chest. so you did your best to clear your thoughts and treated the weather outside and giselle’s music as white noise before drifting to sleep.

anton was in your dreams often. you thought it was always unfair how he occupied your mind so heavily he managed to infiltrate your subconscious and dreams. after the breakup it only got worse. sometimes you would dream about him curled up next to you, getting up from the bed just to come right back to you. he would always snuggle into you closely and pull you into his chest. you would dream about him being the little spoon, laughing at how your arms wrapped around his large frame. you would dream about him turning you around to make you the little spoon, bringing a warm hand to trace shapes over your stomach. the mind was an evil thing. there were times when you would wake up in the middle of the night thinking it was real, that anton had come back to you in the middle of the night. but the vacant space on your bed was still empty and cold when you opened your eyes.

although it was painful dreaming about anton when he was no longer in your life, you truthfully wouldn’t have it any other way. you loved dreaming about you two laying on beds of gold or in a meadow running around in the tall grass. the dreams were usually pure and shrouded in a deeper meaning that you couldn’t decipher. but sometimes the dreams were less innocent. this time when you dreamed about anton you dreamed of him above you and panting into your ear while his strong chest was pressed against yours. you could hear the faintest whisper of his voice in your ear and you could see his wet hair sticking to his forehead. you dreamed about anton’s hands holding your hips down and you leaving marks down his back while you took all of him, his dangling chain above your eyes. just as your lips were reaching towards his ear to say something your brain suddenly woke you up, making you shoot up in your bed.

it felt like you woke up from a nightmare the way your body felt all clammy. your chest heaved and you shot a quick look to the empty side of your bed. moving so suddenly didn’t help either and you could feel a headache coming on as your eyes adjusted to the darkness in your room.

after gaining some of your bearings you reached to your bedside table to check the time on your phone. it was eight in the evening. giselle hadn’t stopped mixing her songs, music still coming from her room. you sighed and stretched, not sure how you felt about sleeping the whole day away.

following the aftershocks of your dreams, it was impossible to not think about anton. you regretfully think about him, if he is sleeping right now or if he dreams of you the same way you dream of him. he’s only a phone call or a twenty minute walk in the rain away. you decide against it, the thought of not getting a response scares you away from your phone.

you get out of bed and stretch your limbs again, you can’t deny that the rest was much needed. maybe you would watch something and eat until you got tired again. it would give you time to process your dream, maybe if you thought about it enough you could have another one like that again.

as you round the corner of you room to go into the kitchen you stop dead in your tracks.

you know it’s anton before he turns around. after spending so much time with him, you could probably identify him from his hair, or his voice. you see one of the most obvious of anton’s traits—his broad back that is covered with one of your towels. even if something covers his back you can tell it’s him by muscle memory, something you’re sure will never leave you. but you also know it’s him because who else would be sitting at your kitchen island this late at night. you still can’t control the shock in your voice as you call out his name.

“anton?” you say.

he turns around quickly to face you and his eyes go wide. anton has always been so expressive, every emotion shows on his face in an instant. he gets up from his chair like a reflex but he says nothing, just looking at you from across the room.

“what are you doing here?” you ask.

anton still looks at you without saying anything. it’s like your speech is delayed getting to anton, because it takes him almost five seconds before he swallows to answer your question. during the time it takes for him to speak you see a bouquet of the flowers you like laying on the kitchen island.

“i was riding my bike and i was coming to get the rest of my stuff but i got caught in the rain,” anton swallows again. “giselle let me in.”

anton points to your roommates closed door. it would makes sense that giselle would hear him, she must’ve stayed awake the whole day. music still plays in her room as you turn back to anton.

you are both met with more silence. you know that you should probably kick him out, or scold him for showing up at his ex girlfriends house unannounced. it’s hard to be mad at anton because he used to show up like this when you two were just friends, popping in just to hang out. and you do remember that you both promised the other that nothing would change if you two broke up. it was a lie then and you knew it. you wondered if anton knew it too. you could assume he did by the clenching knuckles at his side, or how he cleared his throat awkwardly.

“i tried to get home i really did but—” anton said.

now it was time for you to clear your throat and reach a hand out to him.

“no i prefer you stay here until the storm dies down.” you say.

you have to force yourself to remember that this isn’t a dream, that anton is real and standing in your kitchen. you want to be a good host and offer him food or ask him if he’s okay but all the words are caught in your throat. instead you gesture to the living room, showing anton it’s okay to step into your apartment further.

you’re sure that his ears tucked into his beanie turn red as he walks over you. he’s slow with his steps, like you’ll change your mind at any moment. you can still hear giselle music coming from her room as you go to sit on the couch.

when anton comes to the opposite end, his eyes find yours. he’s looking to you the whole time, waiting for you to give him the permission to be close to you. anton has always been too nice for his own good, letting you make all the moves and initiatives in the relationship. so he waits for you to nod at him before sitting down on the couch too.

you focus on the sound of rain and giselle’s house music as you look to anton. he looks the same except for his hair that has gotten a little longer. the necklace you got him for his birthday is still around his neck, rested on his chest. you tried not to look at the pendant too hard, because then your eyes would wander to the black shirt that clung to his chest. your mind flashes back to the dream you had of and you have to lightly shake your head to get rid of the image.

“how are things?” he ask you.

you hate that this is what your relationship with anton has come to. he used to be the person you were must comfortable around but now he sits on the opposite end of your couch asking you questions you both know the answer to.

“things are good.” you say.

you think about telling him everything would be better if you guys got back together. you hold it back by picking at the hem of your shorts.

“what about you?” you ask.

you can barely bring yourself to look at anton. you see that he isn’t looking at you either, his eyes focused on your hand that is holding the bottom of your pants. when you move your hand, his eyes stay there as he says nothing.

“i miss you.” anton says. “so much.”

you can feel the couch give underneath anton’s weight as he comes closer to you. the couch dips from you, almost causing your body to lean into anton’s. he bends down to be in your line of sight. you’re forced to look into his large brown eyes as he looks for something in your eyes.

“you miss me too, right?” anton says.

his hands reach for yours and you let him grab them. he squeezes his hands in your palms and you still have to remind yourself this isn’t a dream. anton continues to look at your face while massaging your hands. it keeps you there with him and you know he knows the answer to the question.

“we aren’t together anymore anton.” you whisper.

you know you should pull your hands away, maybe even tell him to leave your apartment. but you can’t bring yourself to do anything to him while he looks at you like that.

“that doesn’t matter. do you even remember why we broke up?” anton asks.

you shake your head; you truthfully can’t remember. you’re sure it was something stupid, something that easily could be fixed. you both were clumsy throughout the whole relationship, so confused why everything felt so different from when you were friends. maybe you two got tired of stumbling through the motions of everything and called it off. but the way anton looks at you makes you want to take everything back and make you try again.

“i want to try again.” anton says.

he shakes your hands slightly to really give emphasis to his words. maybe you keep dreaming about him because you should try again, maybe that’s what your subconscious has been telling you.

“i’ll have to think about it.” you say while nodding slightly.

anton responds to you by smiling. you can’t help but smile too, and you can feel tears that threaten to fall from all the emotions going through you. you can’t stop yourself from bringing anton in for a hug. he pauses only for a second before hugging you back twice as hard. you are happy you’re able to stop yourself from sobbing onto anton’s shirt, but you almost lose it when he rubs up and down your back gently. you go deeper into the crook of his neck and he holds you a little tighter.

“i came in the rain on my bike to be all romantic with flowers but you were knocked out.” anton says into your shoulder.

you start laughing loudly, the image of anton peddling on his dingy little bike through torrential rain. anton finds it funny too, he starts laughing as he goes into the details of him almost driving into a ditch while trying to get to you.

you know you’re both laughing too hard when you hear the music in giselle’s room shut off. you realize that she is basically at her job right now, and you and your ex ex-boyfriend are disturbing her. so you get up from the couch and motion for anton to follow you. he gets up from the couch and rubs his palms on the front of his pants. suddenly he’s the shy anton again, so different from the bold anton that told you he wants to get back together.

anton follows you into your room and you close the door behind him. you don’t move again until you hear giselle’s music turn back on.

you laid down on the bed first. anton stayed in front of your closed door, looking at the you laying on the bed. you can make out his figure even in the darkness of your room, broad and almost as tall as your doorframe. even in your dreams anton doesn’t look this good. you don’t beat away the image of him above with a stick this time, instead you welcome them with open arms as you tap the empty space on your bed.

you watch anton come over to the bed, stopping so he can take off his beanie and jewelry to set on your dresser. it’s just like old times, hearing the familiar sound of his rings landing on the ceramic dish. you wonder if he’ll take off his shirt too. he keeps it on as he lays on the opposite side of your bed.

he didn’t dare to move any closer to you, staying on the other end. you wish you could fold the covers and bring him closer to you, or have anton pull you into his chest like he always did when he spent the night. he was too nice to do move any further, and you realized that nothing would happen if you didn’t make a move first. so you swallowed whatever was holding you back and let your hand glide across the cold sheets towards anton. he turned towards you almost immediately and his hand grabbed your bicep.

anton first lightly tugged your body towards him twice. it was gentle and inviting like he always was. you scooted your body to anton’s, moving only a little across the sheets that separated you two. anton then exerted some of his strength o pull you the rest of the way, wrapping his other arm around your body to bring you into his chest. you laughed at how fast he pulled you across the covers as he tucked your head underneath his chin. he brought his hand that was on your arm to the back of your head—it had been too long since anton surrounded you like this. you nuzzled into his neck and sighed contently.

“we should probably move slow” he said. you could hear the smile on his face.

you hummed in agreement but then moved closer into him. he wrapped his arms tighter around you before kissing your cheek. it was quick and light before anton tucked your head underneath his chin again. you weren’t shocked by the kiss, you were actually beaming at the feeling of his lips on your skin again.

you weren’t sure when you fell back asleep, but it was hard to not doze off with anton like a weighted blanket on you. you could feel the rise and fall of his chest against yours, and hear his quick heartbeat slow down overtime. it was an inexplicable comfort having him behind you and to feel his arms wrapped around your frame.

you didn’t wake up again until well after midnight. the rain still fell and the wind still blew harshly. you woke up in anton’s amrs, curled into his chest to be the little spoon. you had turned at some point during the night, and anton’s hand rested on your stomach to gently trace shapes on your exposed skin. you don’t know how it was possible to miss someone so much.

you turned your body to face anton’s. you found that he was already awake, looking into your eyes with the same look you dreamed about. you closed your eyes as he placed a wet kiss on your cheek. his eyes are still bleary, you imagine he must have woken up around the same time you did. you brush some of his hair out of his face and let him leave a wet kiss on your lips.

“what time is it?” you ask.

“not sure. has to be pretty late though.” he says.

anton sounds distracted as he talks to you. his eyes are on your lips as he puts a hand behind your back so your body arches into him. you can feel how broad and solid anton’s chest is underneath the thin material of his shirt. you lean more into him and instinctively wrap your leg over his to bring him closer. you wrap your arms around his back to press your palms flat on his shoulders.

“i thought you wanted to move slow?” anton says.

he places another wet kiss to your lips before pulling back. you missed the smirk he got on his face when he knew you wanted it. it made you bashful, heat spawning from the places his body touched yours. it blossomed from the small of your back and spread to your finger tips that pressed against anton’s back. the feeling made you lock your leg in place, bringing anton even closer to you.

“we can move slow tomorrow.” you say hastily.

anton comes back to your lips, and you waste no time pushing your tongue into his mouth. anton must be just as desperate as you are the way he lifts you up like you weigh nothing. he almost crushed you in his arms, you have to tap on his shoulder to remind him of his strength.

“sorry.” anton whispers after pulling away from your lips.

his lips are plump and glossy, you run your tongue over yours to try and taste what’s left of him on your skin. you missed kissing his lips until they were red and a little swollen and the way he’d gather you up in your arms when you two made out. you try to get on top of anton but he uses a hand to keep you in place. you let out a little whine at not being able to move, you wanted to show anton how much you really missed him.

anton sits up on your bed to pull his shirt off. he does it with one hand and while he is busy taking off his pants you start to take off your own. as you lift your hips to take off your pants anton stops suddenly.

“wait. don’t move.” he says shyly.

you listen to his weird request, not moving while anton takes off his pants.

when his pants hit the floor anton guides your body to sit up. you do as he says, eyeing him to see what his plan is with you.

“put your arms up.” anton tells you.

his sweet and quiet voice betrays the authoritative words. you listen to him regardless, filling to the brim with excitement of anton telling you what to do.

you lift your arms as anton pulls up your shirt. he does all the work even guiding your arms through the opening of your shirt. anton looks up at you from your collarbone, placing a wet kiss on the taut skin as his hands go to your bra strap. you nod and anton brings both of his hands to your back to unclasp your bra. he is gentle releasing your chest from its confines, his big hands covering the area of your breasts.

no matter how many times anton sees your breasts, his breath is taken away each time. he kneads your doughy skin, lightly gripping a boob to place a kiss directly on the areola. anton missed your content sighs and breathless whimpers when he does things to you. he missed seeing your face crease with pleasure, the way you prop yourself on your arms and lean your head back to feel everything.

“i missed holding you.” he whispers.

anton can’t stop himself from taking a nipple into your mouth. you instantly arch your chest into his mouth, your free hand petting his head.

“i dreamed about this.” you whimper when anton goes to the other breast.

anton guides your body back down to lay on the bed. you lay your head on the pillow, looking down at anton as he trails kisses down your body.

“should’ve called me.” anton says, smiling into your stomach.

you can’t bring yourself to tell him why you couldn’t, something stupid as pride keeping you from feeling pure bliss as anton takes your shorts off. he lifts your hips off the bed all on his own, any more you try to make anton puts a gentle hand on your stomach to keep you in place.

“let me show you how sorry i am.” anton says.

he looks at you with sincerity as he continues pressing kisses to your body. he works down one leg and works his way up the other, even kissing your feet earnestly. anton makes eye contact with you as he presses a kiss to your folds. the contact alone has you lifting your hips off of the bed, trying to chase after the kiss. anton puts a hand underneath your ass to lift your bottom off the bed. you bend your knees until your thighs lightly press against the sides of anton’s head. you are still reeling from the dream you had, you know you won’t last long.

just from the kisses anton gives your pussy you’re lightheaded, gripping the sheets trying not to lose your composure too fast. it’s a lost cause when anton looks up at you again as his thumb starts rubbing your bundle of nerves.

“my little princess,” anton whispers. “you’re sensitive?”

you whimper in response and nod your head. anton sticks his thick middle finger inside of you, bending it once he’s inside all the way. you open your mouth in a silent moan, lifting your hips off the bed even more. anton places a kiss on your thigh.

“just lay there for me,” anton says. “i got you.”

“okay.” you whimper.

anton’s soft voice completely opposes his lewd actions. the way he takes his finger out of you to spread your folds apart. you can barely manage to look down at him as he makes work of your heat, on his hands and knees to get closer inside of you. his nose bumps your clit as he eats you out, alternating between making out with your pussy and sticking his tongue in your slit.

“feels so good anton.” you whimpered. when he hums into your pussy your legs close in on him, locking him in place. “i missed you so much.”

anton starts eating you out with a new vigor. the sound of him slurping and placing sloppy kisses on your cunt fills the room. you can’t stop you hips from bucking into his mouth and anton welcomes it. he guides your legs to rest over his shoulder and sits up slightly on the bed. anton uses his strength to bring your lower half up with him. you can’t stop yourself from grind on anton’s tongue while his arm behind your ass supports your weight. his free hand reaches out to yours and you let go of your hold on the sheets to grip his hand. you are moaning loudly, watching anton watch you.

he is entranced by your tiny cries and the way your heels dig into his back. you look so beautiful like this, not having to do any of the work to get to your peak. anton loves the way you grip his hand with all of your strength. he wants to take a picture of this moment to remember it forever. he wishes he could take a video to immortalize your whiny voice.

“i’m close.” you say.

you turned your head from the bed to look at anton. he goes back to tongue kissing your slit, purposely using his nose to bump your bundle of nerves. this way he can stimulate you adn you can take up all of his five senses.

he loves the way you smell, the way your whole body tenses when you cum unannounced. anton thinks it must’ve hit you like a freight trin the way. you cried out his name and squeezed his head between your thighs. sound is lightly muffled through your plush skin, but he can hear you loud and clear. you will definitely have to apologize to giselle in the morning.

anton takes all of your slick, slurping and getting so messy to the point. that he can feel the dribble of spit mixed with your slick come down his chin. you body turns to jelly in his grasp, your legs becoming pliable. anton comes back down to the bed and guides your ass down slowly.

your legs are flimsy and your knees unbend themselves, sliding down the covers of your bed. anton goes back on his haunches slotted between your legs, looking at you laid out for him like a five course meal.

anton is starving when he licks his lips, the glossy sheen of you still evident on his face. the intensity that he looks at you with has you squirming, and you can feel your body getting ready for a second round. you try sitting up, to grab anton’s hard member that bobs in the darkness of your room but a hand stops you.

anton keeps you down, but you can’t stop yourself from looking at him. the hand that pushed your shoulder back down goes to your slit, gathering slick from your orgasm. anton using the wetness to jerk himself off. you are enthralled by the sight, the way anton’s hair covers his eyes but you can still feel his hard gaze. his breath comes out in huffs as he picks up the speed and muscles underneath his taut skin move in tandem with his hand. his body looks so large from this angle, the way looks down at you while beating his dick. you don’t know how much control anton wants tonight, but you can’t stop yourself from using a hand to grip your breast.

anton increasing the pace tells you that he likes it. your massage the supple skin the same way anton does, the same way he does it to you in your dreams. it’s the real deal when he leans his body over, his hand falling beside your head.

he still beats his dick while he’s above you. his chain jumps from the inertia of the action and you can’t choose between looking at anton or his necklace.

“what do you dream about?” anton murmurs.

“us running around together in a meadow.” you say truthfully.

“what else?” anton asks.

his hand thaat was jerking himself off went back to your clit. he puts two fingers in, making you listen to the low squelching sound of your arousal already coming back.

“i dream about you fucking me, too.” you say.

that’s all anton needs to hear before guiding his dick to your heat. he goes down to his elbow beside your head and in one swift motion you bring your hands to his back and wrap your legs around his waist.

anton is just as big as you remember. you have never felt this full before, your walls clamping around him before he can bottom out. anton loses some of his strength at the way you’re already milking him. his large sweaty frame presses against your chest and you welcome it. your breasts are squished against him, both of you moaning in ecstasy.

“i missed you so much.” anton says into the skin of your neck.

you can practically feel his face heating up and you can imagine his flushed face as he gives you another slow thrust. you think you’re close again already. when anton gives you a deep thrust your nails dig into the expanse of his back.

“i missed you too.” you say.

anton focuses on hitting you deep and slow. he hits the spot in the back of you that you both discovered together—the spot that leaves you clenching and anton twitching inside of you.

“just like this?” anton says, hitting the same spot again.

“just like that.” you whine.

anton spends time hitting that spot over and over again. he kisses any part of your body his lips can reach before turning your head to give you a kiss on the lips.

his other hand hold your hips done. his strength brings you pain, the type you revel in. you let anton forget his own strength as he continues to fuck you into the mattress, his slow and hard thrust making you bed creak rhythmically.

you can feel anton getting close to his peak, feeling him get closer has you hurtling towards the edge as well. you move one hand from his back to grip his arm, your nails digging into the flexed muscle. something about seeing someone so big and strong fall apart above you has you clenching uncontrollably around anton’s dick.

you break apart from anton’s lips to look down between the middle of your squished bodies. anton does the same, lifting his body so you can see where you two meet. you rest your sweaty foreheads against eachother to watch the show.

“i’m close.” anton whimpers.

“me too.” you say back.

“where can i—” anton’s voice is broken up by pleasure, trying to keep it together for as long as possible.

“inside me. please.”

“alright baby.” anton says.

he brings his chest back down to yours, and he brings an arm underneath your body to bring you close. you’re surrounded by him, nails rake down anton’s back as he picks up the speed.

anton whimpers your name into your ear before pulling back to look you in the eyes. he curses from your blown out pupils and the way your walls close in around him. anton grips your shoulder as he spills into you. you milk him dry, the sensation of him throbbing pushes you off the edge again. you pushed off into anton’s arms as your legs around his waist pulls him in. you grind into him when his hips still, loving the sound of anton inside of you. he whines and laughs a little from the overstimulation, his whole body sensitive.

you still move you hips until anton pulls out of you. you can feel his cum dripping from you and you fight the urge to push it back in. anton’s large body loses its strength above you, pressing your body into the mattress. he catches his breath in the crook of your neck, hot puffs of air fanning your skin.

you let anton’s large body crush you a little more. you missed him so much you would risk the suffocation. when anton’s breath finally steadies, you tap his back. anton understands immediately, picking his head up from your neck.

“oh my god i’m sorry.” anton says.

he slides off of you to lay beside you on the bed. you waste no time turning to him. now you’re the one tracing shapes on his chest. anton turns to you and smiles.

the rain outside is almost as comforting as the feeling of anton pulling you back into him. you doze off to sleep again, this time knowing you’ll be waking up to anton next to you.

#requestz #01zfan: anton #riize smut #anton smut

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archieimagines · 1 year

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antidote | chishiya shuntaro

Summary: A doctor is a lifeline. In the Jack of Hearts game, Chishiya strives to be yours.

yeah, i took the physician reveal and ran with it. i tried to get into his head to portray him as well as i could in writing this and accidentally fell head over heels. let me know if i did him justice? warnings: large helpings of anxiety, chishiya-esque emotional manipulation, though affectionate. mentions of sex, fwb setup, my attempt at sounding medically educated. word count: 2741 requested by: anon (thank you so much for this brilliant idea, i loved getting stuck into it. i don’t write smut, but i hope this still gets you a little riled.) written by: archie support me on ko-fi

It’s human nature to fuck up. He should’ve known to expect it from you.

It was beginning to wear him down, your constant knee bouncing and nail biting since the third hour of this game. All he needed to do was watch. He was wildly curious to see how this would all play out, and he knew he was safe. Knew you were safe.

All things considered, it was a low-risk game: only trust was required, and he’d scored that easily by taking you under his wing. However, The idea of the Jack of Hearts was a poison injected into the bloodstream of the prison’s population. The symptoms of distrust and paranoia would migrate through the ranks, and the masses would spiral and die.

It was a simple game. The key was to not let your protector get infected.

But the symptoms were visibly taking a hold of you. The cafeteria table shook with your anxious tics, the water in your bottle sloshing enough to disrupt his attention on the surrounding cafeteria. He wouldn’t complain though. You weren’t annoying, no, but you could soon put him on edge if he let you spiral like this, and then he’d be infected too.

“Chishiya,” you called softly, clearly nervous to disrupt his spectating.

He didn’t tear his eyes from the scheming girl in the dress. She was particularly interesting in this setting; and by his deductions, not likely to be the Jack. “Hm?”

Your voice came meeker than normal. “What’s my suit again?”

He turned slowly, a brow quirked over a relaxed eye as he finally gave you his attention. “You forgot?”

“No. Just tell me.”

He sighed silently through his nose, calculating your thoughts. To ask this after he’d told you twice already, you must’ve been anxious about one of two things. One, that your addled mind would fool you into speaking the wrong suit. Or two, that you couldn’t trust him.

“Heart,” was all he said.

And you nodded. Your eyes hardened, clearly visualising the shape before your eyes. ‘Heart,’ he could practically see your mind reciting. ‘Heart.’

Or… Was that a calculating look? He flexed his jaw. Were you possibly tallying up the likelihood that he’d lied to you?

He focused on the accidental downturn of his lips. He shouldn’t be double reading you like that - his own intuition was the only concrete thing he had. He’d never been wrong before. He’d kept the both of you alive for this long based on his skill alone, and he’d not let your lives slip away in a measly Jack’s game.

With a slow blink, he made the conscious choice not to chip away at his own trust in himself, as was undeniably the Jack’s aim in this game.

Chishiya’s gaze lowered to where your fingertips danced on the tabletop. A heart shape. Over and over. Frantic, disturbed. You were slipping.

Against his better judgement, he reached out a hand to clasp over your fingers, quietly amused when those sweet, round eyes fixed on his face. You were so scared, so anxious, and the part inside of him that felt for you lit a soft smile on his lips.

You’d never been good at heart games with that anxious disposition, but that was why he’d kept you by his side. You were an easy window into the minds of his surroundings with how easily he could read you. Your distress on the outside showed blatantly the fear of the people in this game. Everyone under the roof would be feeling it. Even the Jack… Especially the Jack.

Chishiya had found you early on in the games-- only the two of you had survived the Six of Hearts. You were entirely integral to his methods of survival that day, so he stole you away to the Beach and was sure to never let you have a game without him. Losing you as the key to his readings would surely damn him someday. Yet somewhere along the line, he grew… fond.

It must’ve been your consistent proximity, he’d reasoned at first. How your constant being around became a sense of ‘normal’ for both he and Kuina, how your raw, unapologetic humanity was a refreshing shift in his life, how you were a brilliant vessel in the games.

He’d protect you, and you’d provide him the opposite perspective as the control in his readings where everyone else was the variable. The perfect symbiotic relationship in this land.

And perhaps that may have been the case. Perhaps that was the foundation for which he felt appreciative of you, the foundation for a so-called friendship. But it didn’t explain how you’d developed into more for him.

His hold on your fingers tightened, gaze fixed on them as he recalled how they’d thread through his hair, night after night. How they’d unzip his hoodie at the Beach. How they’d scramble to tug the sheets over your naked body when a militant barged through the unlockable door to call him into an executive meeting. He couldn’t help the huff of amusement at the thought. Your eyes were as sweet and panicked then as they were now.

But it wasn’t the same. There, you had the safety of the blankets in his room. A sanctuary. Here, you must’ve felt so exposed to the Jack’s poison. Knee bouncing beneath the table and water bottle gripped tight in one hand, what he could swear was a thin sheen of sweat over your skin. You were really losing your nerve, and he needed to be your antidote.

“Follow me,” he murmured, his interest in the room’s population dissipated. With a gentle nod in a moment of reassurance, he let go of your fingers to let you take up your bottle of water and led you from the cafeteria.

His hands burrowed into his pockets as he walked. He took his slow time, sure to register his surroundings in his peripherals even as he gazed straight ahead, effortless as ever.

Your distinct footsteps followed close behind, audibly unsure and glancing around to the others as you tagged along. He knew you had no clue yet. You were playing it blind and suffering for it.

He took you aside into one of the prison’s meeting rooms where once upon a time, a board of directors would’ve gathered. They’d have administered handfuls of men’s fates, and they’d have considered them less than rats. Now this was where Chishiya would administer your own fate, purely because he held you dear.

He opened a palm to gesture to the end of the table. “Take a seat,” he spoke, ever relaxed, and watched you hop up onto the end of the table. It was rickety, chairs kicked and strewn about, the room only lit by the game-master’s searchlights that shone into the windows.

You looked far from comfortable perched up there, the glare lighting half of your face, and he found himself silent. He just looked at you for a moment. How beautiful you were.

He’d noticed many times, of course. The flutter of your lashes as you looked over his features in a fruitless attempt to read his face. Your parted lips channelling the oxygen that fuelled your body, though your lungs delivered it all shaky and uneven. You were stunning to him, even in the worst of times. Even when you were drenched in the crimson of lives you outlived.

But… There was something in this moment. Something about how right now, he was your lifeline. He held that beautiful existence in his hands and this time, he had the power to choose his method of helping. No supervisors to end your life with a swift letter, no list of priority to bump you down. Or at least, you were the priority.

“What is it?” You jerked him from his thoughts, your ankle bouncing once more where it swung below the table. “Chishiya?”

He gifted you a smile, but it didn’t soothe you.

Your eyes narrowed instead. “What are you hiding from me?”

A soft hum of laughter as he took slow, deliberate steps closer until he stood directly before you. A pinkness on your neck caught his eye and his head tipped in curiosity. He reached to slip a finger into your collar, lips pursed in question as he felt the irritated heat of your skin underneath. “Mm? Do you have a latex allergy?”

“Lat-? No.”

He pulled gently on the band at your neck, stepping even closer to peer at the line of irritation from the garment. It wasn’t until he finally removed his hold that he noted the moisture on his finger-- your sweat. The salt must have caught in the material and rubbed you raw, leading to irritation and the slightest blood spots beneath your skin.

“You’ve been pulling at the collar.”

“It’s tighter than when we started.”

Chishiya knew that wasn’t true. His was perfectly fine - comfortable, even - but he didn’t give a thought to argue. Your stress was having physical implications, making everything even worse for you. Anxiety really is a bitch, he mused.

“Water.” He held a hand out to the bottle and you placed it in his palm. His eyes fixed on yours as he opened it up-- and only at this point did he realise quite how close he was.

Your knees put a comfortable, familiar pressure on either side of his hips, his face uncommonly close to yours without the presence of a bed, but he had no intention of moving. He just took the space and owned it, relishing in the slightest hue of red that dusted your cheek, sure to notice it deepen as he raised your chin between his finger and thumb, guiding you to lift your face.

“This will be cold,” was all the warning he gave before trickling the water down your neck.

You hissed and jerked back, likely from the cold or the sting of the freshwater on your salted wounds. “Shit, Chishiya.”

He simply chuckled inwardly, lips hitched in a humoured smirk as he rinsed your skin. He let the little stream of water run across your throat, taking his time to work towards your other ear. His touch on your chin remained delicate as a doctor’s touch, directing you to look the other way for his ease.

This intimacy, he pondered. So rare in the home world. It was one thing to be a physician in a hospital, and another to use basic, opportunistic materials to heal someone who depended on him so wholly. A patient may fight to survive on their own accord, but here, in this game, with you… Everything rode on his word, on his actions. Everything.

A strange magnetism in his chest drew him ever closer to your skin, until his lips soon met the human warmth beneath your ear. It was a slow kiss, tender and deliberate, and he relished in how your body naturally leant into his.

His closed eyes let him hone on the quickened beat of your pulse, the ghost of a thrum against his lips. Your blood pumped the cortisol of your anxiety through the roof, and he remembered his mission to bring it back down, to calm you. He clung to this as a reason to retract from you. If this reaction was from his unsolicited affection, he should know better than to drive your adrenaline too high.

“Don’t touch it anymore,” he prescribed, voice level and cool, giving no hint as to how hard it was to lean back from you. “The irritation will lessen and you can focus more.”

“I don’t know what the hell I’m focusing on,” you spat in a whisper, uncommonly callous with your words despite the pink to your cheeks as you watched him close the bottle cap once more. He’d seen you panic before in many a heart’s game, but not like this, not after his sparing affection. This game really was frying your nerves.

“Focus on keeping your head,” he murmured, the slightest snort slipping out after. “In every sense of the word.”

“Shut the fuck up, Chishiya.”

It was endlessly amusing to see you like this. The fire that came from your lips right now had never been rivalled before, and any regret he’d had at choosing a Heart’s game for you quickly dissipated. Fascinating to see you lose your mind.

But, he couldn’t toy with you too far. He allowed you to hear his chuckle, low and rumbling in his chest, only audible with the proximity he kept. “Sincerely. Focus on staying calm. All you need to do is trust me.”

“Not so easy in a place like this.”

He took the chance to look surprised. This was his opening to seal any of his own concerns about you. “You think I’d feed you the wrong suit?”

He paid careful attention to how you hesitated, watching the thoughts dance their patterns behind your eyes. You were looking at him without seeing him, close enough that he could see his reflection in your irises. Calculations, calculations, ones that you so visibly struggled to work out. Would he dare tell you the wrong suit? Would it be out of choice or pre-emptive, lest you try to end him first, purely because you’d worried?

Moments passed, and the longer it went on, the more his worries tugged at his thoughts. He needed to prove himself to you to save his own skin. Both of your skins.

His hands settled lightly on your lower thighs, set snug on either side of his hips, and he gave a reassuring squeeze. “You don’t need to worry,” he murmured, voice low and soothing as butter on a wound, “We’ll survive this together.”

That endearing little tug between your brows encouraged him on, and he couldn’t help but take your chin in his hold again. To hold that sweet face, so trusting, so impressionable. He watched the hope shine in your features before turning your face the slightest degree, exposing your ear once more, to which he leant in. His breath just tickled your lobe as his nose nudged on your shell, words slow and deliberate. “I know who the Jack is.”

The change in your body language was instant. You jumped back to peer at his face, brows high and eyes wide, no longer slouched and dejected. Your hand gripped at his white jacket, fisted into the fabric to keep him close as you murmured, “Really?”

A slow nod. Relaxed eyes and knowing smirk shone in the searchlight, and he planned his next words carefully. He didn’t want you to know who his suspects were, in case you gave anything away and steered the game from its natural course. “I have two suspects, it’s just down to seeing which fails first.”

The elation in his chest at seeing your relief was disorienting. The way you sighed out with almost a laugh, head thrown back to let it escape you… It was an image he wouldn’t forget for a long time. The serenity of his antidote, saving you from the Jack’s poison.

His brows shot up as you snatched his shoulders into a tight, relieved hold, thighs tight on his waist and arms looped around his neck. Your face pressed into the junction of his shoulder, nestled against his hair. “Thank fuck,” you breathed, edging on tears. “You worked it out? I should’ve known. I should’ve!”

He didn’t say anything, only astounded that you might be so liberal in your affections outside his hotel room. But then, he did bridge that gap first. And there were no regrets. He allowed himself to indulge in it, his own arms finding their home around your waist and his nose in your hair. Of course it was a trick of psychological conditioning, but if he focused just right, he could almost smell the residue of chlorine from the days at the Beach.

He indulged in splaying a hand across your back, rubbing soothing circles over your form. This body… He knew the ins and outs of it. He knew where every mole dotted your skin, he could estimate the length of your lower ribs without flaw. His thumb pressed slow pulses in the flesh between the back of your ribs, imagining that he’d place his stethoscope there.

What a sound he’d hear. Each breath, the source of your survival.

Would it be too arrogant to consider himself such a thing too?

#chishiya x reader #chishiya imagine #shuntaro chishiya x reader #chishiya shuntaro x reader #nijiro murakami x reader #nijiro murakami imagine #alice in borderland imagine #alice in borderland headcanon #aib #chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #nijiro murakami #written by archie

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rodolfoparras · 6 months

Note

I NEED Prices old man pussy on my face right now😩😩🤤🤤

- 🔪

It was a stupid idea but it was an idea nonetheless, having price sit on your face while fully clothed to prove he wouldn’t crush you with his weight.

It must’ve been one two or three too many drinks when you’d asked Price to sit on your face, which he’d only responded with a look as if you had killed someone right in front of him, which was ironic since that was what he did for living.

However he’d been quick to explain that he was too heavy, that he was bound to crush you with his weight and that you should just do things your usually way, with him spread out on your sheets and with you buried between his thighs.

Any other day you’d take him up on his offer but by that point you’d long forgotten about the act itself, too focused on the way he sees himself so being the person that you are with one too many drinks in your system you’d have him put his weight on your chest whilst the both of you were fully clothed just to prove that you could take it.

So here he is, with his weight pushing down on your chest, calves pressing at the side of your ribs and his hands fumbling around on your pecs to adjust himself

“See, told you that you had nothing to worry about,” you slurre out, bleary eyed and mindlessly caressing his thighs.

However he doesn’t respond, eyes looking anywhere else with his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, hands nervously fiddling on your chest.

“Hey, hey, we don’t have to do anything alright?” You say, snapping out of your drunken demeanor for a second “just wanted to show you I’m stronger than you think old man, you have nothing to worry about” you say, words coated in liquor as you flash him a reassuring smile.

“It’s not that” he croaks out, adam's Apple bobbing as he swallow hard, thighs squeezing the side of your ribs.

That’s when you finally get a whiff of his musky scent, eyes automatically falling to the spot between his legs, noticing the way the fabric outlines his cunt, with a small wet patch prominently showing on it.

“You- you aren’t wearing any underwear”

He doesn’t turn to meet your gaze but from where you lay you can see his face turn red, can hear the shaky breath escaping his lips, hands flailing in the air to explain himself. “I’m sorry I usually go commando -“

“Fuck it’s okay” you croak trying to ignore the way your cock twitches at the sight” it’s alright just - just relax yeah?” You say, your own hands shaking where they rest on his legs, as your pulse sounds through your ears. “Do you do you want to uh continue this? We don’t have-“

“I want to,” he says now meeting your gaze, and tone as firm as his words.

“Okay fuck okay” you say, laughing in disbelief and out of excitement, blood pooling to the lower half of your body as you squeeze at his thighs in reassurance.

“You’ll uhm you’ll have to move a bit closer, can’t really reach “ you say feeling heat creep up your own neck, ears and cheeks as the words tumble past your lips.

He doesn’t respond, head ducking down as he shuffles further up your chest.

You reach out with your hands to help him adjust himself so that you now can feel his heat licking at your cheeks, can almost see the way his pubic hair pokes out through the sinfully thin fabric, can almost taste him on your lips.

“Tell - tell me to stop whenever ” you croak out, before you’re cranking your neck up to lick stripe along his clothed cunt.

The slight hitch in his breath and the squeak of the wooden board is all you get in response to your question.

So you deliver another broad stroke and this time you earn a verbal response but instead of telling you to stop, you hear the words “please god please” tumbling past his lips.

And who are you to deny such a sweet request, you think to yourself as you crank your neck, swiping your tongue over his clothed clit and watching the way the fabric darkens more from your spit.

“Fuck” he squeaks put, hips bucking into your touch as he clutches onto the headboard for dear life.

However quickly your neck starts to ache from the awkward angle and you prompt the older man to sit on your face.

That’s when he freezes up again, familiar words slipping past his lips, I’m too heavy, I’ll crush you, but you're quick to shut him down with a slap to his thigh.

“If you think this attests my strength then I’m a little worried for your intelligence captain” you say with a chuckle which only earns you a slap to the head.

“Ouch! Okay I’m sorry” you say through a pained laugh “but really I can handle it”

The last bit of doubt trickles out his eyes, teeth releasing his worried bottom lip as he starts to lower himself down but you stop him with a hand to his hips.

“Clothes” is all you say and you see the look of realization flash across his face before he turns red as he quickly shuffles off his sweats, his lower half completely bare before he’s back to hovering over your face.

He’s about to say something, probably to state his worries once again but before he can do so you’re pulling him down onto your face, with your eager tongue pushing past his slick folds and tonguing his hole.

He doesn’t get a moment to breathe, doesn’t even get a moment to think about the thoughts that worried him previously, complety lost in the sensation of you relentlessly fucking your tongue into him.

It’s almost too much, it becomes too much when your lips mercilessly latch onto his clit, sucking eagerly at the numb til Price is sobbing, sweat trickling down his spine and hips clumsily grinding down onto your tongue.

He doesn’t even comprehend when he had started riding your face, uncaring of anything except for the fact that he’s inching closer to his release.

“Cu-cumming” he manages to squeak out before he comes undone with a cry, body shaking and headboard threatening to break under his hands.

Later when he’s laying on your chest, you got a smug look on your face as you say the words.

“Told you that you had nothing to worry about”

#istg I don’t know how this happened #istg I was like my writers block is so bad and here we are #thanks to 🐻‍❄️ anon my brain is working #call of duty #john price #john price x reader #john price x male reader #captain john price #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x reader #dom male reader #sub male character #trans male character

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rynwritesreid · 5 months

Text

Twisted affections| Spencer Reid & Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Both Hotch and Spencer realise they both have feelings for you. They decided to approach reader about the possibility of sharing a relationship with both of them. Hotch, acting as a protective father figure, and Spencer, more discreet but equally protective. They approach reader together to talk about the possibility of a unique relationship.

Content: Smut. 18+. Fem!Reader. Mean Dom Hotch, Soft Dom Reid, Sub reader. Threesomes Oral sex (M! receiving). Fingering. Degrading. Praise. Overstimulation. Anal. Double penetration. Candaulism. Voyeurism. Exhibitionism. Breeding kink. Marking. Pet names.

A/N: This is my first time writing about a threesome. I hope you enjoy it :)

Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation

4.0k words

When you first joined the BAU, fresh faced and doe eyes, Hotch and Spencer immediately noticed you. Of course, Hotch had interviewed you, but he just now realised how beautiful you really were. See, you have this radiant smile, one that everyone on the team looked forward to seeing. You were a generous, empathic, and all-around good person. Everyone on the team loved you, especially Hotch and Spencer.

Hotch cared for you like a very protective father, he would glare at anyone who so much as looked at you in the wrong way. Spencer, however, was more discreet. He wouldn’t shoot evil glares at the men who did flirt with you or look at you as if you were on display. He was still protective over you, he would always go in-front of you when you were in the field, he made sure the people we were trying to catch didn’t come close to you. When everyone else was sleeping on the jet, he would come put a blanket over you.

Though at some point, Hotch and Spencer must have realised there was no point fighting over you. They both wanted you and neither of them wanted to be the one without you. They could tell how you felt about them, they saw how you looked at them, how you acted around them. Because of this, they knew they needed to come up with a plan together, one where they would both win, and where you would be able to have both of them.

They decided to talk to you about it, to see if you were open to the idea of sharing a relationship with both of them. It was an unconventional arrangement, but they couldn't deny how strongly they both felt for you. They decided to wait for the perfect moment. One where it would just be you three alone, they didn’t want anyone else on the team to know what was happening or that you three could possibly be in a relationship together.

This came quicker than expected, it was after a case, it wasn’t particularly gruelling, but it wasn’t an easy case. You didn’t want to go home straight away, you lived alone and sometimes you would just stick around the headquarters to do some paperwork or relax for a little bit. Hotch and Spencer were also there, you knew why Hotch was there, but you weren’t really sure as to why Spencer was still at work.

As you sat at your desk, Hotch and Spencer approached you. They were both standing on either side of you, and their presence made your heart race.

“Hey,” Hotch said softly, “we wanted to talk to you about something.”

You looked up at him, and then at Spencer. Both of them were looking at you intently, their expressions a mixture of nervousness and hope.

“Sure, what is it?” you asked, unsure of what to expect.

Spencer cleared his throat, and then spoke up. “We’ve been thinking about this for a while now, and we wanted to ask if you’d be willing to try something with us.”

Your confusion must’ve shown on your face because Hotch stepped in to explain.

“We both care for you deeply, and we don’t want to lose you. It’s an unconventional arrangement, but we were wondering if you’d be open to the idea of being in a relationship with both of us.”

At first you were apprehensive of the agreement, unsure if this something you truly wanted. They were both attractive to you, and you have developed a crush on the both of them. You sat there in silence, looking at neither of them.

You needed time to process this unusual proposition, but you also didn't want to dismiss it right away. You thought about how much you care for them, how they both make you feel, and what it would be like to be with both of them at the same time. It was a lot to take in, and you didn't want to hurt either of them by jumping to a decision too quickly.

After a few moments of silence, you looked up at them and spoke softly, "I need some time to think about it. It's not something I've ever considered before, but I appreciate you both being honest with me."

Hotch and Spencer nodded understandingly, giving you the space, you needed to process. They didn't want to pressure you into anything, but they also didn't want to lose you. They cared for you deeply and were willing to try something new if it meant keeping you in their lives.

Over the next few days, you thought about the proposition more and more, and you couldn't deny the attraction you felt for both Hotch and Spencer. You found yourself fantasizing about them, imagining what it would be like to be with both of them at the same time.

Finally, you decided, and you called both Hotch and Spencer to your apartment. You took a deep breath and looked at each of them in turn, taking in their handsome faces and the heat that rose in your body at the thought of being with them.

"Okay," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm willing to try it."

Hotch and Spencer exchanged a look of relief and excitement, and they both leaned in to kiss you on either cheek. You couldn't believe what was happening, but you were also excited to see where this would lead.

You had never been in a relationship with two people before, and you weren't sure how it would work. But as their lips pressed softly against your skin, you felt a sense of comfort and safety wash over you.

"We just want you to know that we care for you deeply," Hotch said, his voice low and soothing.

"We don't want this to be just some fling, we want to build something meaningful with you."

Spencer nodded in agreement, his hand squeezing yours gently. "We know this isn't the traditional way of doing things, but we believe that the three of us can make this work."

They didn’t spend too much time at your apartment, they didn’t want to rush you or put pressure on you to do stuff with them. They wanted you to be relaxed, calm and happy about this. They were just as nervous as you, this was completely new for them too.

The first time you did anything with them, it was just you and Spencer. He was caring, gentle and passionate. He made you cum three times before he even allowed you to give him head or before he would fuck you.

Hotch on the other hand, was rough. He fucked you until you were begging for mercy, and then he would flip you over and fuck you again. He loved to slap your ass as he slammed into you, he loved to hear you scream, and you loved it too. He liked marking you, he wanted other men to know they didn’t stand a chance with you.

They both had different pet names for you, Spencer liked to call you his princess or good girl. Hotch wasn’t as nice. He would call you a slut, sometimes a whore. Hotch loved to degrade you, he loved letting you know that he was in control of you at work and at home.

He loved making you wear slutty clothes when he was with you, or when you were going out. Hotch liked to watch how Spencer would react, or how other men would stare at you. You liked the attention too, but also liked knowing that you would be going home with either Spencer or Hotch. They were both protective of you, and they made sure that they were the only ones allowed to fuck you. They didn’t want another man to have you because you were theirs and theirs alone.

Hotch had invited you to go drinking with him. He made you wear this insanely short skirt, and a top that had no back to it. You were showing off your tattoo to some guy, you were a little drunk, and you couldn’t believe how confident you were. You could feel his eyes on your ass, and you were aware of every move you made.

Hotch marched over to you, sat on stool besides you, and pulled you onto his lap. It was a big move, the move that drove it home for you that you belonged to him (and Spencer). He cupped your face in his hands and stared into your eyes. "You’re mine tonight, remember that.”

"Yes, Sir" you said, and he smiled.

You smiled back at him, and then you kissed him, letting him know that you were on board. He kissed you back, and then you felt his hand creep up your thigh, under your skirt. He let out a groan as he felt how wet you were.

"You like showing off your goods to other guys, don’t you?"

You nodded at him, knowing that you were in trouble. "Yes, Sir..." you began.

"When you wear this outfit, you’re pretty much advertising yourself aren’t you?"

Though Hotch had asked you to wear it, you had worn it before. You loved the attention it had gotten you, much like you did now.

"Yes, Sir" you said, afraid you were going to regret agreeing.

"In that case, I’m going to have to punish you till you learn your lesson,” he said.

You whimpered, but you nodded in agreement. You knew you’d been a bad girl; you didn’t know what type of punishment you were in for. Hotch went to the bathroom quickly, just after he had told you to wait for him. What you didn’t know was that he was not only calling for a taxi but also calling Spencer to let him know what had happened at the bar.

You waited for a few minutes, feeling a little stupid as you were dressed like a slut, just sitting in the bar. You felt eyes on you, and you knew you were being watched. You were slightly aroused by the attention, and you knew it was what both Hotch and Spencer wanted.

Hotch came back from the bathroom and told you he ordered a taxi. He took your hand and led you outside. You didn’t dare say a word to him, you didn’t want to make the punishment any worse than it already was going to be. Once you were in the taxi, you could feel Hotchs hand climb up your thigh, he was running his fingers over your panties to feel how wet you had become.

Once you had arrived at his house, you could see a light was inside. You thought maybe Jack was there, but you knew he wouldn’t have brought you back to his place if his child was going to be there. You wanted to ask, but you knew Hotch had a plan for you. When you stepped inside you saw Spencer sitting there with a disappointed look on his face.

"You both are disappointed in me" you said, looking down at the floor. You knew you had been a bad girl, and now you were going to pay for it.

"Yes" they both said in unison.

Hotch turned to Spencer and raised an eyebrow. "What should we do about her?"

Spencer sighed and told you to "go get undressed, we're going to get you out of this,” he said it in a tone you had never heard from him before.

You did as you were told and stripped your clothes off.

“Good girl” Spencer said, still with disappointment in his voice.

You looked at him and saw him smiling at you, then you looked at Hotch who gave you a look that said, "I'm not done with you yet, but we will get to that."

"Now, get to the bedroom and get on your knees" Spencer ordered.

You did as you were told, you knew it was easier to just do what they ordered. You got on your knees close to the bed, you knew what was coming but you were still nervous.

You heard footsteps coming up the stairs, you couldn’t tell they were Spencer’s or hotch’s. You saw the door slowly open, and watched Spencer walk in. He walked over to you; he still didn’t look happy. He put his hand under your chin and forced you to look up at him.

“We’re so disappointed in you. You’ve never acted like this before. Are we not giving you enough attention?” Spencer asked. He was smirking at you, but you knew there was some part of him that was wondering if they weren’t give you enough attention.

You shook your head, and whispered a no.

“That’s what I thought. Hotch is going to come up in a second, okay. He’s going to deal with you first.” He didn’t seem disappointed that he wasn’t going to be the first one to use you tonight, so you wondered what else they had planned.

It wasn’t long till Hotch was then in the room. He didn’t walk over to you straightaway, instead he started to undress himself. You saw Spencer walk over to him and ask him something, but you couldn’t make out what he was saying, but you saw he walked out of the room.

Hotch looked towards you, "you know, Spencer has been talking about getting you some nice toys, I think today is the day he lets you have them" he said.

Spencer hadn’t mentioned anything like this to you. But now you knew they discussed you when you weren’t with them.

He made his way over to you. He leaned down close to your ear and whispered, "I’m going to let you suck my cock, and I’m going to let Spencer go get the toys he wants to try out on you.” He bit down gently on your ear, and you moaned in response.

You wanted to try everything with them, you wanted to feel every action that they could bestow on you.

“Now be a good girl and open your mouth.”

You did as you were told, and you opened your mouth. He slipped his cock inside. He grabbed the back of your head; you knew he was going to be extra rough with you tonight. He pushed his cock all the way to the back of your throat, you gagged a little, you weren’t expecting this to happen straightaway.

"Good girl,” he said, “I think you’re a fan of me using you like this.”

You felt your eyes staring to water, wondering where Spencer had gone, but you were too focused on Hotch to really care. He started to thrust, he wasn’t gentle, it rough and the way his hand was grabbing your hair was kind of painful. But you loved every second of it.

He let out a moan, and you knew he was going to cum. He pulled his cock out of your mouth, and you looked up at him, he stroked his cock for a few seconds, and then you saw him shoot his load all over your tits and your chest.

After he had caught his breath, he told you to lay on the bed. Again, you did as you were told, it was easier this way. Once you were fairly comfortable, you saw Hotch had some rope in his hands. You started to feel one of his hands tie the rope around your ankles, tying them to the bedposts.

Hotch's hand ran over your pussy, he was playing with you. He was making you want him. You needed him to touch you. You weren’t sure when, but you noticed Spencer had come back in the room. You didn’t see him holding anything, but you knew he had gone to get something.

Once Spencer was stood next to you, his hands were roaming your body. He started to pinch your nipples, he also wanted to tease you. You felt Spencer move his hands off you. Suddenly you felt his hand on your face, and you heard him say, "Smile."

You smiled at Spencer, and you heard the sound of a camera. Unsure is he had just taken a picture of you. Spencer than walked over to where Hotch was. They took turns in fingering you, the other one taking pictures and videos. You couldn’t believe how turned on this was making you. You wanted to cum so badly, but you knew they weren’t going to let that happen yet.

You suddenly heard Hotch speak, “Maybe we should show everyone on the team these. Show them how much of a slut you are for us. How much we make you moan. Maybe we should even go back to bar and find that man you were flirting with, I’m sure he would love these photos.”

You whimpered as you heard him say that. It was true, you didn’t want any of your co-workers or your friends to see these, and you knew they would never talk to you again. You wondered if he was really going to do that, and if he did you would have to quit your job. Spencer leaned in closer and said, "Don’t worry, we'd never let that happen, but we want you to have something to remember this by."

They continued this for a while, and every time you came close to cumming, they would stop. They wanted to edge you, they wanted to see how long you could take this. You though were just a moaning mess, covered in Hotch’s cum with your mascara running down your face.

After what seemed like forever, you heard Hotch talk. “This is unfair on Spencer, don’t you think.”

You nodded in agreement. And felt them both stop what they were doing. You saw Spencer step back. He started to undress himself. Once Spencer was completely naked, you felt him climb on top of you. He slipped his cock into you, and you moaned out in pleasure. You were so close to cumming. Spencer started to thrust faster, slamming his cock into you.

“You want to cum, don’t you?” Asked Hotch in an almost menacing tone.

You nodded, unable to find any words.

“Well, only good girls get to cum. And you haven’t been a good girl, have you? So, you’re going to have to hold it.”

You didn’t know if you could, but you did know you were going to have to try. It wasn’t long till you felt Spencer steady his speed, you knew he was close. You wanted to beg for him to cum inside you, but you were unable to speak. But Spencer didn’t plan on pulling out, if he was being honest, he wanted to get you pregnant.

Spencer slammed into you one last time, and you heard him grunt a second later, and you felt his warm cum inside of you. You felt full, but you hadn’t been able to cum all night.

“Did you like this baby?" Hotch asked you.

You nodded. "I want to cum, please." you pleaded.

"You won't cum without my say so, and since you decided you wanted to flirt with other men, I don’t think we should.”

You wanted to cry, you wanted to beg. But you heard Spencer say something.

“I think she’s learnt her lesson Hotch, plus I really want to try something new.”

"I don't think she deserves to cum, she needs to learn her lesson." you heard Hotch say in return.

You were about to say something, but Spencer cut you off. "I know, but I think we should let her cum, how about we try something new out? Something she’s never done."

“What have you got in mind?”

“Well, I haven’t fucked her ass before, and I think she would like that.”

You whimpered, that sounded painful, but at that point you would do anything to cum. You felt them both untie your legs, so Spencer would have easier access.

You felt Spencer move off you, and you heard him open a new bottle of lube, you were a little confused, you didn’t think they had brought any in. Hotch told you to get on all fours. Again, you did as you were told.

You felt a finger at your entrance, he was getting you ready. You were scared, and nervous, but you were more than ready for this.

You felt him push his finger inside you, he wasn’t gentle, this felt like his cock, and it hurt. But you loved every second you felt him slide his finger in and out of you. He pushed a second finger in, and you moaned out, you couldn’t help it, you loved the way he was fingering your ass.

After a while, you felt him slide another finger into you.

“Do you think she’s ready Hotch?”

“I think she can take it,” Hotch replied.

You gripped the sheets as you felt him slide more and more inside you. He didn’t take it slow, but he did take his time, he didn’t want to hurt you anymore.

It felt like your ass was on fire. It hurt so much, your hole burned, and you felt like you couldn’t take anymore. But you knew you had to. Spencer pushed all the way inside you and stopped. He waited for you to get used to it.

He waited for you to relax, and you did. It still felt weird, and you felt full. But you managed to relax, and you enjoyed the feeling of being full.

You then felt something against your clit, it wasn’t Spencer’s or Hotch’s hand. You then felt it start to vibrate, so you instantly knew what it was. You couldn’t help but start to moan. It truly felt like heaven, but then Spencer pulled out. You were confused, wondering what was about to happen.

Hotch asked you to step of the bed for a moment, to which you did. He got on the bed, close to the edge so his legs were hanging of the end. He told you to get on top of him.

You were so confused, but you did as you were told. You felt his cock start to enter you, and Spencer returned to his previous spot. You realised what was about to happen. Once they both in you, you felt the vibrator return.

It hurt a little to feel both of them enter you, but after a while, it felt amazing. Spencer thrust into you from behind, holding your hips. Hotch was underneath you, his cock deep inside you. He watched his younger agent fuck you from behind. He had a look of pure lust on his face.

Hotch watched you bounce on his cock, he could see the pain on your face, and the pleasure. Spencer grabbed your hair and pulled you back. He kissed your neck.

You were moaning in pleasure, you had never felt like this before.

You started to lose yourself. The feeling was amazing, they were filling you up at the same time. You wondered if you could cum like this.

Then Spencer said, "God she’s so tight”

Both Spencer and Hotch started to thrust faster and faster, you knew you couldn’t hold on any longer.

Pleasure took over, and you couldn’t control yourself. You were moaning out, and you couldn’t stop. You felt an overwhelming sensation throughout your body, you started to tense up.

The vibrator was still attached to your clit, so you came hard. You were unable to moan out, it hurt too much, but you knew they would know.

Spencer and Hotch continued to thrust into you, but they couldn’t hold on much longer. You could feel that they were close as well.

You felt Spencer slam into you one last time. He grunted and pulled out; you were left with his cum inside of you. It felt like it was everywhere, you felt so full.

Hotch grabbed hold of you, he grabbed your ass and threw you down on him. He rammed into you hard, and he came as well. He came inside you, and it felt amazing.

You fell to the side of the bed. You were exhausted, and you felt like you had been through so much. But you had enjoyed every minute of it.

Spencer went to get towels and Hotch went downstairs to get you some food and water. You felt complete, and you can’t believe for one second you ever doubted this relationship.

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a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 8 months

Text

Duty Over Heart

Pairing: Captain John Price x medic!reader

Warnings: canon typical violence, angst, fluff, mutual pining, inappropriate workplace flirting? no power imbalance, f!reader, reader is implied to be American but can be read as anyone

Reader is called "Doc"

Words: 6.1k

Synopsis: You and Lieutenant John Price worked together on a mission in Bosnia, only to find out that your lives were forever changed afterwards...

You are currently reading the prologue to Duty Over Heart

(I guess technically lieutenant Price in this but he’s captain in the rest so)

Price can vividly remember what the day felt like after your first mission together.

It had been a nice day, warm and sunny to the point he wondered if maybe he would overheat if there wasn’t a breeze. To him, he could vaguely smell sea salt and the promise of the fish dinner his mother used to make on Sundays after having dragged him to church earlier that morning. The smell of petrol and the feeling of the warmth from a very particular quilt he had grown up sleeping with.

The feeling, at the time, had been quite odd to him since he had met you far from the ocean and far from Liverpool, the place he had called home up until the age of sixteen before he decided to enlist in the military, but after as many years as the two of you have known each other, he understood why he had remembered those things.

Price had gotten home from a long deployment overseas. Anyone normal would’ve taken the time to settle back within their home, let themselves rest for a moment before they decided to be active again, especially when they had been risking their lives nearly everyday for months on end, but Price was anything but normal.

No one normal killed people for their job, no one normal had to make certain calls that risked the lives of people he would call friends for the rest of the world.

Civilians didn’t see the horrible shit he saw everyday, they shouldn’t in his mind, which was why he had the job he did.

Which was also why he found himself at a football game the day after he had gotten back home.

He didn’t particularly care for the teams that were playing but that didn’t stop him from getting into the game, not when it kept his mind from wandering into places he wished he could snuff out like the cigars he smoked far too often.

A game was a game, he’d enjoy it if it meant he didn’t have to be reminded of his last deployment.

He had been stuck in his own world, engrossed in the football game when someone sat down next to him. He wouldn’t have thought anything of it, it was a busy game and people often got up from their seats and switched them to get better views of the field.

“This seems like a very intense soccer game.”

Price’s face fell into a scowl as he suppressed an eyeroll and he glanced at the woman who sat beside him.

He could immediately tell she was American, not only because of her accent or because she called football “soccer”, but because of the way she looked.

She stood out almost like a sore thumb, wearing clothes that American tourists often wore when visiting London as if she were on vacation but he knew better. She sat with confidence but there was an air of professionalism around her that couldn’t be mistaken for anything else and he knew the moment that she looked at him with a smile his leave was going to be cut short.

“It’s football.” He countered and scoffed. “Americans…”

“I didn’t realize you took soccer so seriously, Lieutenant.” She said and this time he couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling.

“I find football to be relaxing.”

She raised an amused eyebrow, most likely because she must’ve been around to hear him screaming very angrily about the last couple of calls the refs had made. However, she didn’t say anything to disagree as the crowd around them cheered from a goal that he had missed entirely.

His attention had been taken from the game only to go back to work, as it always did. He could argue with anyone that his entire life was his work and though that was mostly by choice, at the moment he wished he could have just these few hours to himself.

“Kate Laswell, CIA.” She introduced herself with a smile, one that was polite but had a hidden meaning behind it.

“What do you want?” He nearly demanded, unable to keep the poor attitude that had crept into him since the moment she had sat next to him.

Price didn’t want to be rude, normally he wasn’t but his nerves were still high from yesterday and he wasn’t too happy about being interrupted on his time off, let alone during a football game.

“I need you for an op,” Laswell began and he sucked in his lips. “You’re the best man I know for the job and I can’t afford mistakes on this one.”

“Best man, eh?” He laughed.

It was true that he had gained quite the reputation for himself within the SAS over the many years of his service. He was one of the highly respected soldiers and often the one that many of his higher ups turned to when they wanted the job done. However, it never would’ve occurred to him that he was also considered the best in the minds of the Americans, especially those in the CIA.

For anyone else, they would’ve gotten cocky about it, but for Price, it just meant he worked more often than not.

“I’ll spare you the details right now but I need to know if you’re in.” She said in a serious tone and one look into her eyes, Price knew she meant business.

She was tenacious, he liked that. She didn’t beat around the bush and waste his time with formalities or “politics”. Straight to the point and honest, he couldn’t fault her for that and despite the fact that she wanted to use her silly American words, he was open to working with her.

It wasn’t like he had much of a choice if she specifically came looking for him. If the job was that important, then there was nothing that would stop him from taking it, not if it meant there would be lives on the line.

“When?”

“My plane leaves in a few hours, we’ll debrief on the flight and then you’ll be shipped out the day after tomorrow.”

Price nodded and turned his attention back to the game as a long sigh left his chest. He should’ve felt more upset about the fact that he was being pulled away from his home after only being back for less than a day, but he had hardly given himself time to feel at home so it didn’t matter.

From one job into another, that was his life, and yet when he met you everything became so much more than that.

The plane had touched down in Bosnia on a small base that the CIA occupied for the mission. It was a small operation for how much Laswell had built it up but no less dangerous; a war criminal on the loose, the need for capture to bring in alive, a simple job but Price knew better.

Nothing was ever simple.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had a simple mission, one that didn’t require him to be constantly vigilant. He wasn’t sure those existed, he couldn’t recall a single mission where he hadn’t nearly died, though he was sure there had to be at least one.

Everything had blurred together nowadays, days into weeks, into months, every mission became the same in his mind and the only thing that kept his head on straight was the paperwork detailing what happened.

Laswell led him into a small stuffy conference room, one that didn’t even have and instead had chairs set out as if they were in a classroom. It was only the two of them there and Price waited for the CIA agent to start but she didn’t.

Instead the door opened and in stepped you.

Price couldn’t help the way his eyebrows knitted together when he saw you walking in full gear just like him, ready for a mission. He almost hated to admit to himself that the first thought that went through his mind was that you looked far too soft to be in the military, let alone work on high profile jobs such as these.

He didn’t want to make assumptions, he’d much rather do that after he’s been able to watch you work, but he couldn’t help it when your eyes looked bright as you glanced from him to Laswell and a warm smile stretched across your face.

He had to deliberately ignore the way his chest warmed when he saw it.

“Sorry I’m late, Kate.”

“We’re still waiting for the others.” Laswell dismissed you with a smile of her own. “You and the lieutenant can acquaint yourselves in the meantime.”

The others? Price didn’t have much time to wonder or ask before his attention was taken by you as you stood in front of him practically beaming at him with only what he could assume to be admiration.

He found that all thoughts were forcibly taken from his mind as he sucked in his lips, glancing down at your own, and he grabbed the straps of his vest.

Up this close, you were quite beautiful which caused him to mentally kick himself for being strange about someone he hadn’t even spoken to yet.

“You’re Lieutenant Price?” You asked and when he nodded your smile grew. “I’ve heard a lot about you, sir, and I’m excited to work with you.”

It took everything in him to hide the disgust he felt when the word sir fell out of your mouth.

You were being polite and respectful, something that many others who he’s met do and yet he didn’t like the way it sounded in your voice. There was something about it, something that put up a barrier he wasn’t sure he liked all that much, not when you seemed so friendly.

That was a stark contrast to many people who had met before, including Laswell. Everyone always approached him only with professionalism that he had gotten accustomed to the longer he worked in his field.

Was this your first job? This wouldn’t be the first time that someone had paired him up with a rookie and he didn’t have an issue with being the one who would teach you the ropes on this mission if that were the case-

“I’m sergeant L/n.” You introduced yourself and his eyes widened slightly. “I don’t know if Kate has informed you but I’ll be your medic for this assignment.”

Price raised his eyebrows and nodded before he glanced at Laswell. He knew that this was serious but he didn’t realize he would need a medic for it and he couldn’t help but wonder just how bad this war criminal was.

When he glanced back at you, he saw that there was a little more determination in your eyes than before but you still had that bright look on your face, something that he felt was entirely out of place.

You shouldn’t be in a place like this.

“Good to know I’m not working alone.” He gave you a quick smile. “M’sorry I wasn’t able learn more about you before this.”

“I only know so much because of your extensive medical records.” You gave him a playfully stern look that made him chuckle.

“I’ll try to be more careful this time.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll patch you up when you aren’t.”

Price felt his chest warm up as he found he was caught completely off guard by you once again. The look of confidence in your eyes didn’t help as you showed him just how much faith you had in your skills which made him feel a lot more comfortable, despite the fact that he hadn’t felt all that out of place before.

Your voice was warm and the smile on your face made him really believe that maybe this was a joke, that maybe you were brought here by accident despite the fact that you seemed to be well acquainted with Laswell.

No other medic had even said that to him. It was a medic's job to make sure their team didn’t die if they sustained an injury and yet you had made it seem that it was so much more than that, even when you had just met him.

He wanted to question you about it, about why you were so friendly, before you excused yourself to speak with Laswell. He was at a loss for words even as two other soldiers came in and the quick briefing started.

You sat next to him and when your knee touched his, he felt himself tense up as he fought back against the weird prickling feeling that came from it.

He glanced at you and for a moment he watched you pay careful attention to Laswell, undisturbed and focused like a soldier as if you hadn’t acted like a completely regular civilian. He studied your face, watching the way you took in the information that he barely processed because he was too focused on you.

As if sensing that he was staring at you, you glanced at him and before he could look away your eyes met. He felt like a creep for being so strange towards you but instead of giving him a look of disgust, you only gave him a shy smile before you looked back at Laswell with that same determined look on your face as before.

His heart skipped a beat and he forced himself to pay attention.

Bloody hell…

Price felt the burn of a bullet pierce his shoulder and he ducked behind the wall of the building he hid by. He huffed, gripping his gun tightly as he turned his attention to the area surrounding him while the sound of gunfire went off around him.

Nothing was ever simple.

Even when he and his group had cornered the war criminal in a small shop on an empty street. He had expected that he would give up when he realized that he was pinned and there was no way out.

Unfortunately, he should’ve expected that the man wouldn’t go down without a fight and that he had his own protection with him.

No one was dead. Any civilians around had left the scene and as far as Price knew he was the only one who had been hit by a stray bullet. His main focus was on the war criminal and making sure that he could capture him without killing him.

Price heard someone duck beside him and glanced back to see you, weapon ready as you provided some cover so he could reload his own.

“Is it lethal?” You fired a shot towards the store window, killing one of the other hostiles and ducked back behind cover.

“I’m good!” He grunted and ignored the pain as he raised his weapon to shoot as well. “We need to flank ’em!”

“Just say the word, lieutenant!”

Price kept his eyes on the war criminal and looked for an opening. That’s all he needed in order to get the job done without getting anyone killed, but currently he couldn’t move without the high chance of getting his head blown off.

Suddenly, there was a lull in the gunfire and just as he was about to give the order to move on the building, something flew through the air towards the both of you.

“Grenade!” He called out and grabbed you on instinct.

He pulled you to cover and hid you underneath him as the explosion went off. His attention immediately went back to the war criminal as he heard tires squealing and saw him speed away in a car.

He cursed and helped you up.

“We’ll chase him, the others can cut him off.” You tugged his vest and sprinted towards the humvee you came in together.

Price relayed the plan into the comms and followed right behind you, jumping into the driver side as he pushed the pedal to the floor to pursue the war criminal. It didn’t take long for him to catch up and he kept his distance as bullets began to ricochet off the hood of the humvee.

He tried to pick up his gun to shoot, but the bullet wound in his shoulder sent hot fiery pain that made him clench his jaw tightly.

“How good is your aim?” He glanced at you as you rolled down the window on the passenger side.

“If you keep us steady, I can get the tires.” You sounded confident and he nodded as he watched you pull your gun up.

You leaned out of the window and looked down the sights of your gun. You took a deep breath and fired two shots, the back two tires of the getaway car exploding with a loud pop before the broken wheels began to spark against the pavement.

The car quickly spun out of control towards the humvee and Price pulled you back inside just as the front smashed into the side of the getaway car.

The two of you were jerked around as glass pieces flew through the air and you smack your head against the dash of the humvee. The getaway car screeched and bent from the crash as both vehicles slipped across the pavement before they came to an abrupt stop.

Steam rose from the hood of the humvee and for a moment everything was still.

Price’s heart was in his ears and he looked to you when you groaned, his eyes searching for any injuries as you held your head.

“You broken?” He asked and when you shook your head he gave out a quick sigh of relief.

“I’m good.” You huffed and swung the door open.

You jumped out of the car with your gun and raced towards the getaway car with Price in tow.

The other from your team showed up just as the both of you rounded to the front, and before anyone in the getaway car could grab their weapons or make a run for it, all weapons were pointed at them.

“Bravo Six to Watcher One, target is secured.” Price relayed the information into his comms as he caught his breath.

“A bird is coming your way for pick up.” Her voice came through the comms and he felt the adrenaline slowly leave his body.

Before Price knew it was back on the small base, watching as a select crew of highly trained individuals take the war criminal to the US.

He stood off to the side of the landing pad as the adrenaline still pumped through his veins. It took too long in his opinion for it to wear off and he could feel himself itching to find something to help ease it as he waited for Laswell to debrief him and tell him he can go home.

Home. It should make him feel better, it should put him at ease and yet his eyes narrowed and he clenched his jaw at the thought of having to go back to London. He knew he needed rest, once the adrenaline wore off he would feel the effects of his last deployment and the car crash, but he didn’t want to stop.

Not when there were more war criminals and people willing to harm innocents still out there.

Price huffed and gripped the strap of his vest before he went to make his way to Laswell.

“Lieutenant.” You called out behind him a little sternly and he felt his heart skip a beat. He stopped and turned around, seeing the serious look on your face which had him looking at you confused.

You narrowed your eyes and gave him an incredulous look.

“Sergeant?” He questioned and you raised your eyebrow.

“I’d be a horrible medic if I let you walk away with a bullet in your shoulder.” You told him and his eyebrows widened.

He looked at his blood soaked shoulder, having completely forgotten about the injury until just now. He could already start to feel the aching sensation return and yet he couldn’t help but think that it wasn’t that big of a deal. “It’s alright-”

“Respectfully sir, I’ll drag you in if I have to.”

Price didn’t have the chance to cringe at the use of sir as he was too caught off guard by your threat. He felt a genuine smile pull at his lips as he looked at your face, seeing that you were serious and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

He shook his head and unsure of why he felt his chest warm again before he gestured for you to take the lead.

You nodded and soon you had him sitting on a spare bed in the same infirmary you threatened to force him to on base.

He watched you intently as you methodically gathered everything you needed, taking special note of the way you silently spoke the list of items that you needed to yourself before you instructed him to take his shirt off.

He managed to take his vest off, feeling a little relief that the heavyweight was off his shoulder but the moment he went to take off his shirt, pain erupted from the bullet wound and he grunted.

His shoulder was stiff and just barely moving had him feel as though he were about to rip off his entire arm. He’s had worse injuries, some that had forced him in a hospital bed for days, and yet this one seemed to be the most persistent.

Price tried again but he could hardly move his shoulder at all.

“Can I help?” You offered and he couldn’t look at you as he nodded without a word.

He felt a slight tinge of embarrassment as you helped him pull off his shirt with little pain to accompany it.

Once it was off, he felt a slight chill as he waited for more pain to follow as soon as you started to patch him up. He was used to the way that medics roughly handled the injuries in front of them, it was just the way things were, especially as the adrenaline was still coursing through their veins.

However, instead of being jostled around and manhandled by you, he felt your hand softly press against his wound with a piece of gauze to soak up any remaining blood. You were gentle as you cleaned it up, apologizing for the stinging from the antiseptic and for how cold he must be since he was shivering.

Shivering from your touch, but he couldn’t admit that to you.

Price couldn’t help but feel incredibly confused but also intrigued by you. At first he believed maybe you wouldn’t fare well on the battlefield but then he saw how efficient you were catching the war criminal.

You were the complete opposite now, treating his wound as if he were a child and touching him with a softness that he had left in Liverpool.

You were strange in the best way possible. You were experienced and a hell of a good shot which wasn’t something that came naturally to most, yet you didn’t boast or act prideful. You were back to that softness he had seen just hours before and he couldn't quite wrap his head around that.

You glanced at him, catching his inquisitive eyes and you quickly looked away from him as if you were startled to know that he was staring at you.

He didn’t miss the way a shy look spread across your face again which made his eyes immediately jump to your lips as he watched you work.

“Did I live up to your expectations?” You teased, seemingly having read his mind and his eyes widened.

Price’s frowned. He hadn’t realized it had been that obvious and it almost made him more embarrassed to realize that you must’ve felt the need to prove yourself to him.

He could only assume by the way that your eyes were devoid of that brightness that this wasn’t the first time someone had made you feel this way.

He couldn’t help the anger that boiled inside of him at the thought.

Anger at himself for being the same as the pricks who had most likely put you down your entire career considering you didn’t seem all that phased by it.

How many times have you had to prove yourself? How many times did someone completely disregard you without giving you a chance?

Guilt bubbled up in his stomach and he clenched his jaw. He never wanted to be like them and yet he had done it to a good soldier who didn’t need to have the extra pressure on top of everything else.

“I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat, knowing that his face must be a few shades redder, especially when you gave him a sad smile. “It was incredibly unprofessional of me to make you think that I-”

“Lieutenant, it’s okay.”

Price shook his head despite the sincere look on your face and grabbed your wrist to stop you. He stared into your eyes with a serious look, one that he hoped would change your mind, and found that for a moment he couldn’t breathe.

His eyes bounced around your face now that he had a chance to look at you properly, and saw every detail that made you, you.

He wasn’t sure why he found himself studying your face. Maybe it was because this would be the last time he’d ever see you and the thought of forgetting your face made him uneasy.

Though, he was sure he’d never forget you, especially when he noticed a small gash on your forehead he had completely missed.

From the car crash…brilliant first impression, he thought.

You stared at him expectantly but didn’t pull your hand away from him as his fingers burned into your skin. It felt as if you had stepped closer to him for a moment as you swallowed hard and your eyes flickered around his face while you gave him a surprised look.

The two of you stared at each other for a lot longer than what normal people did all because he just couldn’t think.

The more he stared, the harder it became to ignore the way his chest warmed as he drew a complete blank on what he was going to say to you. It took a moment for him to come to his senses, realizing that maybe it was a little strange for him to stare, before he finally cleared his throat.

“Really,” his voice barely above a whisper, soft and sincere. “I’m sorry.”

Price let his hand fall from yours, already missing the warmth of your steady pulse in his palm and sucked his lips into his mouth as he waited for you to answer.

He watched you stare at him as if he had grown three heads, as if no one had ever apologized to you so sincerely and it only made the anger inside of him bubble more. He held it in as you glanced away from him, uncertainty flashing across your eyes before you took a deep sigh.

You glanced back up at him with an appreciative look in your eyes that brought back some of the light that had him letting out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, sir.” Your voice was soft as you gave him a small smile.

“Price.”

A smile stretched across his face at the confused look on your face. He couldn’t help the little chuckle that escaped his mouth when you gave him a look of uncertainty, as if you were trying your hardest to figure out if he was joking or not.

“You don’t have to be that formal with me.” He added and your eyebrows knitted together.

“Is this a test or something?” The corners of your mouth twitched when he shook his head. “We only just met a few hours ago, Lieutenant.”

Price shrugged, or attempted to without injuring himself further, and watched as you gave him a genuine smile.

You were right of course, you were still practically strangers and yet he couldn’t help the feeling in his gut that he had seen enough from you to believe you were somebody he could trust. Somebody who he wanted to see again, to speak to again, and hopefully never have to truly say goodbye to.

He hoped you felt the same but no matter how long he stared into your eyes, the beautiful ones that twinkled with a sort of friendliness that stole his breath away, he couldn’t tell.

All he could do was hope that you wouldn’t be repulsed with working with him again.

“You certainly live up to the stories, Price.” You said as you went back to patching him up with a smile.

“Stories?” He wondered and you nodded. “Hopefully not all bad, I’ve not heard about them until now.”

“They’re not. Promise.”

He was sure the two of you looked like idiots the way that you both grinned at each other. He wasn’t sure when the last time he had smiled so genuinely yet he didn’t mind the ache in his cheeks at all. His attention was on you as you continued to patch him up, completely enthralled by you and your presence alone.

“Shame I haven’t heard anything about you.” He watched you raise an amused eyebrow.

“There’s nothing to say.” You scoffed and he grumbled.

After all he had seen today not only on the field but now as you treated him so gently, he had to disagree.

You had to be one of the best combat medics he had ever had the pleasure of meeting. It was a disservice to you that no one seemed to know who you were or know about your skills, save for him and Laswell.

You finished patching him up, carefully examining your hand work with a proud twinkle in your eyes that completely enraptured him.

“Then I’ll say something.” He spoke before he could even think.

You snorted and gave him a look as if you thought he was joking.

However, even with the fact that he had let that slip out, he was serious about saying something good about you if this mission ever came up in the future, and gave you a look that showed he meant it

There was nothing that would stop him from letting your expertise be known to anyone who would listen.

“Are you always this nice to your medics?” You wondered as you began packing up your equipment.

“Yes-“

Price stopped you and grabbed the few items he needed before he started to clean the gash on your head.

He didn’t miss the way your eyes widened and the flustered look on your face as he made quick work to patch you up. You opened your mouth to say something and attempted to step away from him, but he quickly grabbed your elbow to stop you, making you forget about any of the words you might’ve said.

His fingertips felt like they were on fire as he touched your skin and he tried his hardest to push down the good feeling that he had in his stomach. He was sure that his cheeks had turned a few shades darker and he avoided looking at you in hopes that maybe you wouldn’t notice.

“-but I think I need to make it up to you for acting like a muppet.”

When he pulled away, you touched the small bandage on your head with delicate fingers and gave him a grateful smile.

There was a sort of fondness in your eyes when you looked at him, something that was a lot warmer than anything he ever could’ve imagined coming from someone he had worked with and it left him feeling lighter.

“You don’t have to do anything.” You told him with a giggle that made his heart skip a beat. “Even if you are a muppet.”

Price grinned at your imitation of him and you had a proud look in your eyes, something that was much better than the sad look you had just earlier. He hoped you were telling the truth or else he was willing to do just about anything to make it up to you.

He slipped his shirt back on, ignoring the pain in his shoulder as he did so, before you handed him a few pain meds. He sent you a thankful nod as he took them and that was when he spotted the clock on the wall in the small infirmary.

The smile fell from his face when he realized that he had to go back home soon and that heavy feeling came back. He clenched his jaw and a soft sigh escaped his chest before he glanced at you.

He had a bad taste in his mouth. He didn’t want to say goodbye to you, not yet.

“When do you go back?” He wondered and you gave him a tired smile.

“They’ve got me on a few more assignments before I can go home.” You stated matter of factly and yet Price couldn’t help the sympathetic feeling he got in his stomach. “I wasn’t the one who was rudely interrupted during a game.”

“It wasn’t that entertaining…”

The words were stuck in his throat as he watched you pack up the rest of your items and put them back on your vest as you mentally counted the list of items you still had left.

He wasn’t sure why he felt so nervous speaking to you, why all of the sudden his entire confidence as a leader had disappeared when it came to you, but it made the prospect of saying goodbye a lot worse than it should’ve.

You both were soldiers, that’s how this job was.

“You’re not at all tired?” He wondered and you scoffed.

“I didn’t say that.” You gave him a soft pat on his good arm before you gestured for him to walk with you. “But when you’re one of the most needed people on the battlefield, you don’t get to rest that often.”

Price hummed and nodded, knowing a little bit about what that might feel like considering his reputation.

He followed you outside of the infirmary, trying his hardest to come up with something more to say to keep the conversation going, just so he could talk to you for a little while longer but he couldn’t think of anything.

The two of you made it back to the tarmac and he sighed heavily when he saw the helicopter that was meant for him.

“I find that going on walks helps.” You said softly and his eyebrows knitted when he looked at you.

You gave him an empathetic smile. One that showed a sort of softness that made his chest feel lighter and made him want to prolong his departure even more.

“When you work with injured soldiers you learn the signs.” You explained and he sucked in his lips when he realized that you were actually seeing him. “It’s in your eyes.”

He wasn’t sure how he could feel more compelled to be around you but knowing that you saw John Price and not ‘the Lieutenant Price’, made him feel incredibly vulnerable but in the safest way possible. He was almost relieved that you saw past his ranking and the stories that seemed to travel through the special forces all around the world.

It almost made him feel more at peace.

You placed a comforting hand on his arm, causing him to tense up slightly and step closer to you. He stared deep into your eyes again, studying everything about them so he could hope to remember them when you were gone.

“Walks, eh?” He repeated softly and nodded, causing you to give him a light squeeze. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Doc.”

You grinned and pulled your hand away from him, fidgeting with your fingers as you shook your head with that same flustered look on your face you had earlier.

“You know, strangely no one’s called me that before.” You chuckled and he hummed as he heard the sound of the helo turning on.

“Well, then I get the honor of being the first one.” He smiled when he saw the twinkle in your eyes. “I’ll make sure it sticks.”

“How generous of you.”

Price chuckled and tried his hardest to ignore the pit in his stomach as he realized there was nothing he could do to stop him going home. He could only hope that one day he’d be able to work with you again if Laswell ever needed him to clean up another mess.

Maybe she would assign you with him if that happened. Maybe she would listen to him if he personally requested to have you on the team with him whenever she inevitably did call him again.

“Thanks, Doc.” He nodded to you as he began to make his way to the helo.

“Take care of yourself and don’t get shot! I won’t be there to patch you up.” You jokingly called out to him and he laughed.

Price was done for the moment he laid eyes on you.

Tags: @cathnoneofyourbusiness @lillianastuff @sofasoap

A/N: AHHHHHHHH it's finally out and i'm so excited and nervous. I hope you guys like it because it has a very special place in my heart

#captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #captain john price x female reader #captain price x reader #captain price x you #price x you #price x reader #captain price #captain john price #john price x reader #cod price #john price #captain price mw2 #price mw2 #john price mw2 #mw2 price

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cozage · 1 year

Note

Hi! I really like your writing , each of them makes me feel all the emotions.🥺💞 I have an idea for a request, maybe someone has already suggested this (sorry if that's the case) I think it will be interesting, cute and sad🌱

Monster trio, Ace, Low with fem S/O, whose body was under the control by the enemy, she did not want to harm her nakama, but could not prevent it because of a uncontrolled body. Thereby hurting someone, but not of their own free will

Sorry for the mistakes, English is not my first language :(

A/N: I’ve been sitting on this one for a long time because I knew how painful it would be to write. I only did three of them, but if you want Luffy and Sanji’s, definitely send me a request when I reopen them!

Characters: female reader x Zoro, Ace, Law

Cw: angsttttt

Total word count: 2.2k

Enemy Control

Zoro

“What the hell are you doing?!” Zoro yelled, jumping away from your swinging blade.

“I don’t know!” you cried out. “Just get away from me, I can’t control it!”

Your body suddenly changed direction, jerking you to the side. Your arms raised your sword and swing, aiming directly for Nami.

“Nami!” you screamed, but there wasn’t enough time for her to jump out of your way. Your blade made contact with her flesh, causing her to scream out in pain. Blood dripped down her arm; the wound was deep but thankfully not fatal.

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed. “I can’t stop it.”

You raised your blade again, ready to strike Nami again. She cowered in fear, and you swung as if you had the intent to kill.

Metal hit metal, and Zoro stood in front of you, blades raised to defend. His good eye was scowling at you, full of confusion.

“The enemy must’ve gotten ahold of your blood. He’s forcing you to fight us to keep us occupied.”

“Just run!” You jumped back, aiming to strike Zoro.

“You are faster than all of us and you know that!” He yelled at you. “We just have to keep you occupied until Luffy knocks the guy out. It’s not that hard.” Your swords clanged together again, Zoro easily deflecting your blows.

You kicked him, using him as a springboard to push him backwards and propel you towards Chopper. You hated that your body knew who to target, and Chopper ducked as you swung, screaming in terror.

“Please, Zoro. Knock me out or something!” You sword jabbed towards Chopped again, but your boyfriend was back in front of you, defending his crew mates.

“The ability still works if you’re knocked out,” Zoro said, keeping his sword against yours.

Tears were streaming down your face. You had already hurt Nami pretty badly. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you hurt anyone else. Or worse.

You pulled away and swung again. You changed your trajectory at the last second, almost catching him off guard.

“Kill me then!”

Zoro gritted his teeth at your request. “Not an option,” he growled.

He swung his blade around to make contact with your sword, sending a shockwave through your body. He used your brief disorientation to flip his blade around yours, causing it to fly out of your hand. Once you were disarmed, he tackled you to the ground and pinned your arms down.

You thrashed against his body, and he struggled to keep you still. You were still sobbing under him.

“Nami,” you said. “How is she?”

“She’s fine.” Zoro tightened his grip on your wrists. He was trying to be gentle with you, but it was difficult when you had such strong bloodlust. “Chopper’s helping her now. Just relax.”

After what felt like an eternity, he finally felt your body go slack. He looked down at you, waiting for you to fight back against him, but you seemed to be free from the curse.

“Can I let you go?” He asked, watching you carefully.

You flexed your fingers and toes, checking to see if you had control back again. They responded to your desire, and you breathed out a sigh of relief.

“I think so, just be ready in case something goes wrong.”

He nodded and released your wrists, still sitting on your core to make sure you kept your cool.

“Nami?” you asked, propping yourself to look around for the orange-haired navigator.

“She’s fine.” He got up and offered you his hands to take. You accepted, and he pulled you to your feet. He dropped one of your hands as you stood, but interlaced his fingers with yours, holding your hand tightly.

He squeezed your hand tight, trying to comfort you. “Let's go see her. Everything’s okay now.”

Ace

“Ace!” you screamed, your fist infusing with haki as it aimed for the back of his head.

“Huh?” he turned just in time for your hand to connect with his cheekbone. The force was so intense it sent him staggering a few steps backwards.

“What the hell!?!” Ace yelled at you. “Why did you do that? That actually-”

You pursued after him, readying your fist again. “Ace, get back!” you screamed.

You punched at him again, but this time he was ready, and he grabbed your fist as you swung. “Stop it!” he cried out in frustration. “Just tell me what I did!”

“Something’s wrong,” you said, swinging your other hand. You connected with his freckled face, and he grunted out in pain.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, jumping back a few paces. He rubbed his cheek, trying to soothe the pain.

You continued towards him again, and you could feel yourself winding you for another punch.

“Can’t we talk about this?” he said, backing away from you.

“I’m not doing it!” you cried, increasing your pace to him against your will.

Ace created a wall of fire between you two, trying to give himself time to think. “Please, Y/N! What’s-”

Your screams cut off his question, and he watched in horror as you stepped through his flames to get to him. “Ace,” you sobbed. “Help me.”

Your fist drew back, ready to hit him again, and he leapt backwards as you aimed for him. He was fast, but you were faster, and you closed the gap yet again and punched, making contact with his face again.

He groaned in pain and pushed you away. He instinctively lit his fist on fire to attack, but quickly diminished it when he realized it was you he was fighting. He couldn't harm you, even when he knew it wasn't you attacking him.

“Shit,” he hissed, dodging another one of your relentless attacks.

“Knock me out!” You screamed, punching at him again.

“I’m not going to hurt you!” He could see the fear in your eyes as he continued to evade your attacks.

“You have to do something!” You cried back. You could see him debating the idea. “You won’t hurt me! Just do it! Please!”

He dodged your next attack, slipping behind you. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, smacking his hand against a pressure point in your neck, and everything went dark.

You woke up in the infirmary of the Moby Dick, the soft beeping and whirring of machines around you. Your eyes found Ace, slumped in a chair across the room, and you sat up to look around.

Marco must’ve been alerted to your consciousness somehow, because he quietly slipped into the room and smiled at you.

“You’re okay,” he assured you, seeing your panicked eyes. Marco’s voice caused Ace to stir, but he didn’t pay the fire user any mind. “You were under the influence of an enemy, but it appears that it was temporary. Whether it was time related or range related, we’re not really sure.”

“Can it happen again?” You asked, scared for the danger you could put your crew in.

“Unlikely,” Marco said, looking at your chart. “When you first came in, there was an unknown toxin in your system - likely whatever was causing your body to act on its own. But that’s disappeared now. I’ll keep testing you for a few days, but I’m not concerned about it.”

You nodded, and Marco left the room to give you and Ace some time alone. As soon as he was gone, Ace got up and walked over to your bed. He stroked your hair affectionately and planted a kiss on your forehead.

“You scared me,” he whispered.

“I scared me,” you said. “I didn’t know what was wrong with me.”

“I’m sorry I burned you.” You could see the pain and regret in his eyes from a simple mistake.

“That wasn’t your fault.” You gave him a pained smile. “It was just a bad situation.”

You shuffled to one side of the bed, and patted it for him. “Come join me.”

You’re not sure who benefited more from cuddling together, but you were thankful for his warm embrace.

Law

“Something’s wrong,” you whispered, your heart in your throat. Your feet moved without you telling them to, your hand reaching for a knife.

“Hm?” Law hummed. He still had his back to you, chopping vegetables. He was completely vulnerable and unexpecting of what you were about to do.

“Law,” you said, more urgently now. You hands grasped the hilt of the knife, and you turned to face him, raising it above your head. But he still didn’t turn around.

“Law!” you shrieked, full panic now. He only had a few seconds before you...

You swung, Law turning around just in time to see the flash of silver. Just before your knife made contact with his shoulder, something shoved you hard in the side, and you heard a groan.

“What the hell are you doing?” Shachi yelled. He grabbed your shoulders, shaking you. You could feel the knife wedged in his shoulder blade, a warm, sticky liquid flowing out from the wound.

Your knife was removed from his back and stabbed into him again, and Shachi gritted his teeth from the pain. He switched his position to hold your arms down by your sides.

“Captain, get your girlfriend,” Shachi shouted, and your eyes looked over to the captain. When you looked at him, you knew that Law was your target, but it was best to get rid of the weaker enemies first.

Why were you thinking like that? What was happening to your brain? You were scared, and you could see your own fear mirrored in Law’s eyes. This ability - your body moving separately from your thoughts - reminded you of Dressrosa, and the man you defeated there.

“It can’t be…” Law whispered, backing away from you. “That’s impossible.”

You kicked Shachi in the groin, causing him to loosen his grip on you and fall to his knees. You looked down at him, just as terrified as he was.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, tears in your eyes, as your foot whipped back and you kicked him in the jaw. Shachi slumped to the ground, unconscious, and your eyes turned back to Law again.

“Please run,” you begged him. But Law only stared at you, horrified. Even as you picked up the knife and aimed it at his skull, he just stared at you.

“Law! Do something!” You screamed again. You threw the knife at him and he finally moved into action.

“Room. Shambles.”

Suddenly, you were behind a locked gate, Law standing in front of you, safely out of your reach. Your body instinctively lunged for him, and he stepped back out of surprise, but you still couldn’t reach him.

“I’m sorry about this, Y/N-ya.” He sat on a barrel and watched you for a few moments, you desperately clawing at where he stood. Your vision was getting blurry from the tears in your eyes, but you could see that his eyes were still filled with fear.

“Go help Shachi,” you sobbed. “Please.”

Law shambled a med kit to the room you all were in, and pulled out a tranquilizer. “Stay still,” he muttered, flicking the syringe and walking up to the bars you stood behind.

“Law-” When you reached out to grab him, he quickly took hold of your wrist and flipped it over, injecting the sedative into your veins. The last thing you saw was his face, looking down at you as you crumpled to the ground.

You weren’t sure how much time passed when you woke again, but your mouth was dry and there was a blanket over you now. The events came rushing back to you - the lack of control you had over your body, the prison, Shachi.

You were too tired to move, so you balled up as small as you could on the cold metal floor and you let out a sob of despair.

You heard movement from outside of the prison, and then the soft creak of the cell door opening. Your entire body tensed, afraid of what might happen, and you squeezed your eyes shut in fear. Maybe if you didn’t see the person, you wouldn’t hurt them.

Calloused fingers rubbed your arm, and you leaned into Law’s touch. You would know his touch anywhere, and it made you feel a little bit better knowing he was so close.

“Shachi’s okay,” he whispered.

You could feel hot tears slipping past your closed eyelids and down your cheeks at the mention of the news. Relief flooded through your veins.

“You can open your eyes,” Law said, still running his fingers up and down your arm.

“What if I-” you choked on your words, unable to finish.

“You’re okay now. It was a devil fruit power that could control the person through some kind of virus. But I removed it while you were sleeping.”

Law wouldn’t lie to you, and your eyes opened to see his golden irises. There were dark circles under his brilliant eyes, a sign that he hadn’t slept in a very long time. But you could see relief flood through them now, and you knew everything would be okay, just like he said.

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mayearies · 6 months

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CATS ALIKE .. miles g. morales ⟡

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 miles g. morales x fem! reader , fluff , no disclaimer

𐦍༘⋆ SYNOPSIS; you wanted a cat. miles did not. he made this pretty clear. he ignored, dismissed, and persuaded you to stop asking for a while. however, it came back again and again and again. guess how he caved.

WC; 728

𐦍༘⋆ NOTES; old fic i wrote also test for engagement i guess

౨ৎ

he purposely avoided your eyes for a while now. a little bit too long for both of your liking. he flipped through thr channels on the tv as he held you in his lap and you kissed him all over his face, muttering the word ‘please’ without break.

miles grumbled, knowing he would cave pretty soon. he had a sweet tooth for those chocolate lips of yours. he sighed loudly, throwing his head back on the arm of the sofa before looking at you with an annoyed expression. “if i do this for you, promise me you’ll shut up about it.” you nodded in glee.

you knew how to hold your end of the bargain, just one small favor. one small thing couldnt hurt his cold and stoic soul. he took you to the nearest petshop on the block since you wanted this more than ever. a cat.

miles didn’t like the idea. he was away most nights and didnt want something there to create more of a mess than you already did of his room (he would scold you but you knew he didnt really care that much). he could think of a million reasons why this was a bad idea. the only plus was that it was cute.

“which one you want, ma?” he followed you down the isle of cages and cries of the kittens, “preferably not the ones that shed a lot.” his voice sounded uneasy and skeptical. he knew how bad you wanted this.

“relax a little. these little things are so cute, how could you not want one?”

he crossed his arms and watched as you stuck your hands into the bars to pet each one of them, to which some would hiss and deny. “maybe because i dont like cats,” he hissed. “their fur gets everywhere.”

“i say it’s worth it,” you replied sassily to match his tone.

“of course you do.”

you saw one in particular that caught your attention. a black cat that was missing an eye. the shopkeeper said he was born that way and that nothing was wrong with him. he was adorable, just as fiesty too. it didnt let you touch it until it smelled your hand. even then it was still ready to fight. reminds you of someone else you know. “i want this one.”

“the things i do for you.”

you laughed under your breath, “you say it like it’s a bad thing.”

that night, you were so excited to play with the little guy. miles however, could care less. he didnt want much to do with it. well, it may not come off as that because he bought the most expensive bed and cat litter for it, despite it being no older than a few weeks.

you wanted to play with it first, but where’s the fun in that? “how about, i set up the cat litter and stuff and you get to know our new friend together?” miles raised an eyebrow as he set down the carrier. “is this some typa excuse?”

“no! just spend some time with it. last thing i ask, i promise.”

miles sighed and agreed. so much for promises. he opened the cage and waited for it to crawl out, but it didn’t. the sudden change in enviornment and scent must’ve been just kicking in. he reached his finger into the cage and felt the ends of the whiskers ticking it. then, it licked him. he wasn’t taken aback by it but it felt odd.

you finished installing the cat litter box and started walking towards the living room once you heard the tv on again, “so, how’d it-“ and the last thing you thought you’d see tonight just laid in front of you. miles was watching the screen as the little furball wrapped around itself on his chest. it was purring and by the torn fabric in his hood, you could tell it was kneading him.

“well, look who got along,” miles glared at you for that as you walked over to lay down behind him. “still don’t like cats?”

he playfully scoffed and rolled his eyes, his fingers drifting and gazling along the fur of its tail. “im still wondering why you chose that name for him.”

“whats wrong with it?”

“who names their cat ‘meows morales?’”

@ MAYEARIES ‘23

#!⋆⭒˚｡⋆ delivery! ‹𝟹 💗#miles morales #miles g morales #miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #miles morales blurbs #e!42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #42 #miles 42 #42 miles morales #earth 42 #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles x reader #miles morales earth 42

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baka-bakeneko · 1 year

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Here’s To Us - Wade Wilson x Fem! Reader [NSFW]

tags: MDNI, comic version Wade Wilson, voyeurism, shared shower, grinding, dominant Wade Wilson, sub reader, Venus Butterfly, squirting, slow sex, double orgasm, creampie (first of marathon sex series)

word count: 6.3 k

synopsis: Wade's street neighbor needs to use Wade's hot water.

a/n: i refuse to apologize for this.

Wade gave you special access to his apartment once in a blue moon. Mostly for a short list of reasons. One, your water was out and you needed a shower. Two, Wade had left the window open and wanted you to take care of the stray named Bea. Or three, when he was definitely home, trying to relax in his downtime, and wanted some serious company.

And you were surprised you were that type of company. Not that Wilson was intimidating, but you feared that if you looked too much, you’d make him uncomfortable.

But he was a rugged, scarred man from head to toe. And it was hard to take it all in without staring. You didn’t know what it was, but you weren’t trying to be rude, you just wanted to silently trace every divot of his skin with intrigue.

It was as if you were looking closely at a renaissance painting and noticing the cracks in the paint, the hardened bits on the canvas.

Thankfully, this was not that third option today. It was a shower. Your landlord had once again shut off the water in your apartment and was now the hardest to get ahold of. After a long night of fighting, you were grimy and in need of a shower.

Rifling through your bag, you found the spare bronze key detailed with a Hello Kitty key cover and a Golden Girls keychain that read ‘Stay Golden, girl!’

You bit back a low smile, that keychain always giving you a bite of happiness every time you came across it. You wondered if it ever did the same with Wade. You clenched the key in your hand and turned around in the stairwell, leaving your complex to stop at the edge of the sidewalk.

With a double take down the street, you bolted across it and directly into the complex on the opposite side. You wished that you lived right next door to Wilson sometimes; though that’d mean you’d both be shit out of luck with the water.

Taking the stairs two at a time, you rushed to the third floor and stopped in the front of Wilson’s perfectly decorated door. He’d mentioned that he used to practice throwing knives at it, and he recently got into whittling.

You shook your head at the etchings in the door, no doubt that was coming out of his security deposit, and used the key to unlock it. Pushing inside, you shut the door firmly behind you then dropped your bag to the counter.

You grabbed your phone, barely taking in Wilson’s cleaned up studio. There weren’t any pizza boxes on the counter, or any extra beers on top of the fridge. This mission must’ve been a long stay away.

With a shrug, you made your way to Wade’s bathroom and searched for his Bluetooth speaker. The second pairing on your list with how often you were over here now, with how often Wade preferred your taste in music.

Shuffling your playlist, you kicked off your shoes outside of the bathroom then peeled off your shirt and kickboxing shorts in a swift motion. You turned and saw yourself in Wade’s busted mirror, noting the already yellowing skin patch over the back of your shoulder.

You reached for it, feeling at the edges of it with a grimace before leaving it and stripping off your sports bra next.

You turned towards the shower, the curtain already peeled back with the porcelain scrubbed spotless. So he was going to be gone for a real long time.

Damn.

You turned on the old-fashioned knobs for the water, before turning on the middle knob to start the shower head. Peeling off your panties, you stepped into the spray while the music blasted into the room.

You stood under the spray, allowing the water to batter your face and rush down your head to your shoulders; you took the time to stretch your neck and shoulders, then bent to touch your toes.

The hot water felt amazing for your muscles, melting the tension from them. The music helped, each song that came on a natural bop. You slowly swayed your hips to the music before really getting into it, moving slowly to roll your body with the song and mouthing off the lyrics.

It was like being at home after a minute, then five and finally ten before you realized that you hadn’t cleaned up at all. With a snicker to yourself, you searched around Wilson’s shower for a soap bar, then lathered it quickly between your hands. You moved around so quickly, you stopped at a heart-wrenching speed when you noticed someone in the doorway.

“Shit,” you said, reaching for the shower curtain and avoiding Wade’s eyes.

“Sorry,” Wade offered, quickly averting his gaze. “So sorry, that was not an invite. But what’re you doing here, kitten?”

You gulped at his pet name for you; you shrugged further behind the shower curtain, fumbling to crumple it into your soapy hands.

“My water’s out again.”

“Oh,” he stated, looking behind him and leaning back, possibly getting a good sight of his window facing your complex. “You want me to talk to your landlord?”

“No,” you shook your head. “No, it’s okay, really. I’m sorry. I should’ve asked, Wade.”

“You’re fine,” he drew out, pulling himself upright before quickly meeting your eyes. “It’s fine. Just...don’t waste all my hot water.”

You blinked slowly in recognition to his request, then nodded. “In and out, three minutes.”

Wade smirked, leaning further into the doorway. “Now I know you’ve been in here for more than ten.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but your face gave way to your efforts. “How would you know that?”

Wade casually cleared his throat, straightening up and dropping his hands to his grey sweat pockets. “Just...speed it up. This jet lag kicked my ass.”

You opened your mouth to say something else, but Wade reached for the door to shut it.

“I’m done,” you lied, still half-lathered in suds.

“Really?” Wade deadpanned, his browline quirking with a quick once over.

You gulped lowly at the thought of his gaze raking over you, taking in your body shape. You pulled the curtain closer to you, tucking your thigh behind it with a clear of your throat.

“I’m done,” you offered again, reaching for your soiled shirt now resting on the toilet lid. “I’ll get out of your way.”

Wade scoffed and reached for your soiled clothes. “As if you’re getting out of my hair that easily. Rinse off or I’m coming in after you.”

You were taken aback by his teasing, watching as he scooped up all your clothes and walked out of the room with them. He returned shortly after with a dingy red long-sleeve and a pair of boxer shorts.

“They’re clean, I swear,” he promised, bringing the blue-white striped shorts to his scarred nose for a sniff test. “Washed ‘em a month ago.”

You rolled your eyes at him then sheepishly offered your thanks. Wade tilted his head at you then glanced to the shower head.

“I wasn’t kidding, get to rinsing.”

A shock bolted through your body and you pulled the curtain closed to rinse your body off.

“You got thirty seconds,” he warned from the doorway, making your heart race as you thought of everywhere you lathered up. It was more than enough time and if you ended up soapy, that was your own fault.

“Twenty seconds.”

This man’s concept of time moved way faster than yours. Fuck it, it was time for whore’s bath technique. You spun around in slow circles, using your hands to swipe down the rolls of water from your shoulders. It was going to be good enough.

“Eight seconds,” Wade gave as a final warning, his hand already gripping at the edge of the curtain to peel it back.

You were done, all that mattered was getting out. You were going to get out as soon as Wade backed away from the curtain. Your hand reached for the thin veil of plastic and peeled it away to come face to face with Wilson, or moreso Wade Wilson’s pectorals.

They were definitely pillowy, if you ever wondered. But you obviously weren’t as you looked down to get your footing ready, only for your eye to catch onto Wade’s flaccid cock.

You shied away from looking, now bemused by the sight you’d taken in. You shifted to the opposite end of the tub, letting Wilson step into the spray while the remaining water bounced from his skin and onto you.

Wade pushed the curtain away, allowing you easy access out. You dangled a foot out of the tub, ready to dry off, but took a long glance at Wade’s scarred back, parts of his skin torn away to reveal hardened muscle. You hid back a seethe, wondering how painful that must’ve felt everyday with what he did for a living. Whatever that was.

“You wanna get my back?” he asked innocently, acknowledging your stare.

“Sorry,” you muttered under your breath then reached for the soap bar on its designated ledge. “Yeah, I can.”

You lathered the soap in your hands then carefully rested your palms to Wade’s back. Every muscle under your touch seemed to relax, allowing his shoulders to slump forward.

You ran your hands up, crossing over the backs of his shoulders, then down to follow parallel to his spine. You avoided the muscle patches as best you could, meeting your hands at the small of his back and then up again.

Wade groaned at that, bowing his head in the spray with a low ‘thanks’ at your effort.

You nodded, holding your hands into the spray of the water to rinse them. You said nothing, just stood back to watch the suds roll down his etched body. The rivulets caught into the deep scars of his skin, making intricate swirls on his body before falling.

It felt like watching a stained glass window being battered with rain, captivating and time-wasting. Wade glanced over his shoulder at you after a long moment and dared another smirk.

“Like what you see, kitten?”

You tried to speak, but stammered, diverting your eyes from Wade’s tight, scarred back to the floor of the tub. “I’m getting out.”

“No, stay,” he taunted, his tone teetering on genuine as he turned around. “I’ll let you get a look since I saw yours.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, already pushing away the want to look at his front. “I’m good. That was my fault.”

You peeked through one eye and stepped out of the tub, reaching for the boxers Wade set out for you.

You kept your back to him as you pulled them to your waist, rolling the waistband over a couple times to get the desired length for you. Then you went for the shirt, popping your damp head through the hole with your arms to follow.

“You in the mood for some Chinese? I could definitely go for some kung pao.”

You stopped in the doorway and looked back at Wade. “You want me to stay for dinner?”

“Of course,” Wade said with a shrug. “Unless you’re in the mood for Greek, then I’ll kick you out on your ass.”

You smiled, “Chinese food sounds good to me.”

You ordered food and sat on Wade’s couch while he showered, taking his sweet time with the remaining hot water. Not that you felt cheapened in the slightest, it was his apartment after all.

Even with the deepest part of you wondering if he liked what he saw or if anything arose in his mind, you stowed all of your emotions aside when the delivery person knocked on the door. You stood up and went for your bag, rifling through its contents to produce money for the food.

Slowly opening the front door, you exchanged the food and money then shut it with your ankle. You set the food on the clean kitchen island, going to untie the first bag as the bathroom door opened and steam billowed out.

“I’m feeling fresher already,” Wade announced, draping his towel over his shoulders while he wore his signature sweatpants low on his scarred hips.

You scrunched your nose. “Those clean or did you miss laundry day?”

Wade walked around you, letting off a little excess heat accumulated from his shower waft onto you. “You think I’d give my last bit of clean clothes to you? And miss that opportunity of you streaking around here?”

You bit back a nervous grin, biting at the inside of your bottom lip. Maybe he did like what he saw.

“I just changed into these off of my flight,” he said, reaching for the second bag and undoing its tie. He reached in, grabbing at the boxes of food then spread them out on the counter.

“How was your trip?” You asked, a trivial question in the scheme of your friendship, or whatever this was. Labels were hard. He only ever knew about your job, only ever knew what you did for extra cash.

That seemed to be how he wanted it.

Wade opened a box of lo mein noodles and selfishly took a large forkful into his mouth to avoid answering, then he raised a finger at the recognition of one of your songs still playing on the speaker.

He hummed, nodding at the song before grabbing your wrist and turning you in a circle. You rolled your eyes at him, following his movements hesitantly eventually falling into place.

Wade chewed his food quickly, swallowed then turned you around again, pulling your back into his chest. His hand raised yours in the air, his fingers slipping down your forearm and bicep then further down your side and finally grabbing your hip.

You swayed slowly in the rhythm, attempting to ignore the hardened feeling of Wade behind you. But he was a presence difficult to ignore.

You hummed at the feeling of his length brushing against your ass, falling into the music as Wade rested his chin to your shoulder.

“You sure know how to pick ‘em,” he offered, his other hand making small circles on your thigh.

You agreed inside, filing yourself tighter to Wade and chasing a feeling you weren’t sure was good. When the song ended, Wade slowly released his hold on you.

Still his chin was rested to your shoulder, lifting to brush his lips to your ear as his nose swiped against your damp hair. You turned your head after Wade’s, wanting to find something to say but your mind going blank.

You quirked a brow before Wade’s hand snaked up your arm, draping it behind his neck; he turned further into you. his lips slowly molding to yours. The salt from the lo mein cut into your mouth as your hand palmed at the nape of his neck.

You warred on pushing him away, that sliver of you wanting to keep this as cordial as possible. But inside, you were melting, your knees feeling like jelly as you gave into your arousal for him.

Fuck, Wade was a good man. A good-looking man despite his hardened exterior. His body was more of a marvel than the average man, there wasn’t anything you could take away from that. Your hand slide across his as it rested on your thigh, drawing his touch further in.

You arched into him, feeling his cock free in his sweatpants. Now you know that dance wasn’t all for nothing either. Why couldn’t you have just gotten your hands on each other sooner?

Wade’s lips parted from yours, trailing across your cheek then to your neck and down before shrugging one of the shoulders of your shirt down.

"Wade, fuck," you exhaled, already exhausted with waiting.

His lips were warm and soft, dragging against your skin and making goosebumps in their wake. You were almost antsy to have more of him, working your hips into his and getting intoxicated from the friction.

"Don't be so impatient," he said with a low snicker against your skin. "I'm trying to woo you, not fuck you in a gas station bathroom."

You threw your head back and laughed at that, folding your hands over his to feel something similar to a hug. Wade drew his lips back and took little sharp bites at your earlobe with his own chuckle to follow.

You gave up that instant, relaxing against Wade and allowing him his moment. Wade tsked against your skin, letting you go and stepping back.

"What're you doing now?" You asked, turning around to face him, chilled from his absence.

Wade stared at you, determined, while he stroked his chin in thought. "Hush, I'm thinking."

You geared yourself to say something but didn't have a moment to think; Wade rushed at you, grabbing your waist and hoisting you up against him.

Your legs crossed around him, his hands holding you steady while your chest pressed to his.

"Shit," you whispered, the sudden lift making your head go afloat.

You draped your arms over Wade's shoulders and leaned in to kiss him again. Wade carried you over to his bed and dropped you onto it, following soon behind with making your body his sole business.

His lips made work of yours, teasing his tongue into your mouth while your stomach rumbled at the hint of food. You stifled down the thought as you raised your legs, parting them for Wade to dip between them.

He rolled his hips against you, pressing right at the seam of his boxers to your clit. Your eyes fluttered at the feeling shooting through your stomach, adding to the warmth and firmness of Wade's chest against yours.

Your hands slid along Wade's shoulders, then up and around the back of his neck as you pulled him in. His tongue lapped against yours, making you submit and follow his lead.

You were aware of everything about Wade then, making out with him like a lousy teenager. His hands at your thighs slipped up under the boxers to grab handfuls of your ass.

He pushed you further into him that way, earning an unwarranted moan from your lips and into his mouth. You felt his lips curl at that, how your knees were clenched at his waist as his crotch was pressed a bit harder to yours.

Wade pulled from your lips and allowed you to breathe, your chest heaving. He rested his hand to your chest, his fingers steady and spread out between your breasts.

"That's so cute, you're so excited," he teased, dragging his hand down your body then back up, slowly pulling your shirt up to reveal your stomach.

The fabric was caught onto his middle and index finger, his ring and pinkie caressing at the underside of your breast.

"I like that. It's been a while since I've seen that," Wade whispered, leaning in and sliding his lips across your stomach. "Since I made someone nervous."

You scoffed at that, but it came out a shaky exhale as Wade's lips rested just below your belly button. His nose circled your navel then trailed a line up, his breath wafting over your skin.

The chill worked up your back, tickled between your shoulders as you curled your toes against his sheets.

“Bullshit,” you muttered, your hands rested just at Wade’s shoulders.

He hummed, smiling against your skin as his hands rested at your waist, peeling your boxers down to kiss at more skin. Your stomach tightened the further he traveled, each warm kiss causing a lick of electricity between your hips.

Your knees braced tighter at Wade’s sides until he readjusted further down on the bed. Suddenly, his nose was rested directly against your mound, his tongue carefully lapping at the top of your slit.

You stifled a swear, squirming under Wade’s tongue; you drew out a low pitch, not knowing what to do with yourself.

Wade sat up on his knees, using his momentum sitting up to strip your boxers from your legs. Wade’s eyes raked up your body, taking in each vulnerable bit of your skin. You wanted to play coy, tucking the edge of his shirt between your legs but enjoyed his raw attention more.

The dark admiration in his eyes made fire alight in your belly, suddenly realizing how wet you were for him.

He took hold of one of your knees, spread your legs apart with one draping over his shoulder as he lie down on his stomach.

“I’m trying not to drool right now,” Wade quipped, his voice stripped down as he pressed his lips to your inside knee. “You good?”

Your brain registered his question and sat up on your elbow, stomach tight while Wade blew soft air against your pussy. You nodded eagerly, your throat dry and unable to form a sentence.

“Fuck yes,” he grinned, kissing at your opposite thigh, dragging his open mouth and tongue to your inside hip. “Tap me if you want out,” he suggested, using his hand to bend your other knee at an angle.

He flattened his tongue to your clit and your ass immediately grinded to the bed. Wade huffed in amusement, drawing a hand around, touching up your thigh and to your waist before slipping under your ass and to the front of your pussy.

Wade circled two fingers before your entrance carefully, gathering your wet and spreading your lips apart. Your breath hitched, finding an edge to twitch your hips in effort to get more.

He pulled back again, “There you are, being impatient again.”

Your brows furrowed at his leaving, your clit twitching at the cool air left behind. He smiled, glancing down at your pussy as his two fingers slid into you. Your legs threatened to clamp shut but Wade’s body held them open; he returned between your legs and resumed his tongue on your clit.

Your head flopped back to the bed at the combination of sensations. Wade’s free hand pressed on the inside of your thigh, pushing it further open before gripping at your inside hip.

You felt vulnerable, spread open like that to Wade's entire apartment. To Wade. You tried to shut your eyes, clamping a hand over your mouth to stifle your noise for the sake of his neighbors.

"That's not fair," Wade hungrily muttered against your clit, taking a second away from it to grab your elbow. "I put in this work to hear you."

That caused more wet to gush from you, feeling Wade's fingers curl and brush his fingers against your tight walls. He tapped when he found what he was looking for, causing another bolt to rush straight up to your clit which he received with a lap of his tongue.

He was giving himself morse code, using your body as the vessel. You couldn't help the pitchy whine that escaped you then, with Wade peeling back the hood of your clit with his tongue and suctioning his lips around the nub.

"Shitshitshitshit," you metered out, trying to breathe but hold onto the air for fear it'd escape as noises. You raised up on your elbow again and stared down at him, trying to hold your knuckles away from your lips.

He unlatched from you, staring from under the shadow of his browline. "I can't hear you, kitten. You're gonna have to be louder."

You shook your head, already fighting the losing battle as his fingers regularly tapped and pumped in you. Your head dropped back, staring at the ceiling while you tried to catch your breath in a few pants.

Wade took that as opportunity to return to your clit, sucking a bit firmer and showing off with his tongue. Your toes curled, your knees trying to shift off of Wade and out of his grasp, but he held tight.

"Aww honey, we ain't even halfway done yet," he cooed, unlatching from your clit with a loud smack.

The string of his saliva mixed with your wet trailed to the hood of your clit, making you melt at the sight.

"I call this one the Wilson stamp of approval," he taunted, resuming his place at the helm of your pussy.

He suctioned his lips again, this time slowing his movement while his fingers pumped a bit harder.

A moan finally escaped your lips, followed by a seethe between your teeth. "Wade, Wade I--"

Your hand reached for Wade's shoulder though you couldn't reach it; you opted to touch at the top of his head, ready to tap out.

That was until he started using his tongue to sign his name.

W-A-D-E...by the end of his first name, your legs were officially shaking. The fingers were definitely not helping the situation.

W-I-N...He was spelling his full name? You were putty now, your hand at his head only holding him there while he slowly sealed your fate.

S-T-O-N....your eyes were twitching, your body clenched hard on the precipice of something so tortuous and euphoric.

W-I...he drew his tongue in a long, slow swoop down, meeting a tap of his fingers to dot his 'I'.

You were done for. Your breath was now a full-blown pant, your entire body sweaty from holding out. Your pitch heightened with each pump of his fingers, his warm mouth only driving you home.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, fuck fuck fuck..." you worked up, allowing yourself to actually make noise.

Wade's name spat from your lips, pushing his head just a little harder as you finally came, your body in shakes while you rode out the galvanic lashes across your back, between your thighs and up your stomach to your fast-beating heart.

You were so overcome with the pleasure, your pussy forced Wade's fingers out of you and you were wracked with a newer feeling that tightened your stomach to release.

Wade pulled away in a split second, his chin splashed with your juices, while he was in awe of your newfound...technique.

You caught your breath, staring at the ceiling while you folded your arm over your eyes. Your thighs were now wetter than before, your clit now throbbing.

"Hello waterworks," Wade teased, leaning over to kiss at your stomach again. "I wish I'd known that sooner, I'd have saved it for later."

He made his way back up your body, trailing softer pecks against your skin. Wade pressed his cock in his sweatpants against your mess of a pussy, earning a roll of your hips.

His hands were on their way to slipping up your shirt, eager to undress you, but he sat away to meet your eyes.

"You wanna keep going?" he asked, now nuzzling against the side of your neck.

You stared into Wade's eyes, then flicked your gaze to his puffy pink lips.

"Fuck yes," you nodded, meeting his gaze again and grabbing at the back of his neck.

You pulled him into a kiss, turning him onto his side while you tried to reach for his sweats. Wade chuckled against you, assisting with the shedding of his pants before turning on his back.

He held you over his waist, kicking off the ankles of his sweatpants.

You sat back from Wade to get a full look of his hard cock. It looked like the rest of him, but a bit more preserved.

You reached for his cock at the same time he reached to peel off your shirt; you allowed him to pull it off of you, his hands massaging at your breasts as you tossed the shirt off the bed.

You bent and took grip of his cock, leaning in to lick. He was already leaking pre-cum from his reddened tip, no doubt warming you inside. You had done that to him.

"Uh, babe, you don't have to do that," Wade tried, the confidence in his tone dipping.

"Oh, you don't want me to?" You asked, dragging your tongue along his cock, licking a stripe along the underside.

"I--fuck," he swore, dropping his head back with a deep exhale. He raised his head with a low suck of air between his teeth.

Wade reached to touch at the back of your neck, over your shoulder, then further before taking a tender handful of your ass in his hand.

You hummed at his touch, giving him a slow stroke.

"So," You smiled, resting his tip to your lips.

You kissed at it, your lips curling to take him in. "Do you want me to?"

Wade pulled back, staring down at you as you stroked him again. He pulled his scarred bottom lip between his teeth, not finding the words but nodding.

You slowly took him in your mouth, slipping some of your spit down his length. You slicked it with your hand, pulling more of his cock into your mouth.

Wade folded his hand to his chest, turning his nails in. You could tell, by him holding back, how eager he was.

The thought made your pussy flutter, thinking of Wade going hard. But first you wanted to reward him for eating you out so well.

The tang of his pre-cum livened your saliva, hollowing your cheeks to suck him a bit firmer. Wade's hand roamed up to his mouth, ready to stifle himself but you reached out with your free hand to clasp his elbow.

He told you, now you were throwing it right back at him. Wade grit his teeth before a strained noise escaped between them, a choked gasp before he seethed so verbally you were almost concerned.

"Fuck, okay, okay, I can't take this," Wade grit, reaching to gently pull you off of him. He kissed tenderly at your sloppy lips, puffed out and wet from spit. "You do wonders to me, kitten but I need to be inside you. Can I please be inside you, now?"

He crawled, switching up your positions again so your head almost dangled over the edge of the foot of the bed.

You followed his direction, if only to see Wade from an entirely new angle. Finally shedding the ankles of his sweatpants, he draped himself over you.

His cock touched your inner thigh, sending a warm shockwave right to your core. Your chest rose and fell in anticipation, your breathing shallowing as you met Wade's gaze.

His eyes were half-mast, inches from you, and waiting for the okay. The enthusiastic consent.

You grinned at him, tilting your chin up to peck his lips. "I wanted to suck you off."

"We got time for that," Wade whispered, nudging his nose to yours. "Later."

Your hands brushed around his broad shoulders, down to his waist before bucking his hips against you. "How long can we keep going?"

"At least all night," Wade said, taking your lips with his. "I'll take a week, if you wanna stay."

His mouth dipped to your neck with a peck. "A month if I really take my time."

Wade kissed further, leaving his warmth to dissipate in his wake. You tilted your head at the bathroom, the speaker finally shutting off.

Wade followed your diverted attention, his fingers slipping down your thigh before petting softly at your clit.

"Three months if you get distracted often, six months if I'm gone for too long..."

Wade made his way back up to you, working his best at your clit and earning an eager flex from your pussy.

"Let's just chalk it up to a year for good measure," Wade husked against your lips. "That sound good to you?"

Between the way he talked to you and how he touched you, you were feeling more eager for Wade to actually fuck you.

"Yes, so stop wasting time now." You grinned against him, edging up on your elbow to curve your body against his. "Fuck me, please."

Wade's eyes lit up, kissing you hard at the same time of his hand sliding up to your hip. He held you tenderly, angling your hips up while your legs spread further.

He guided his cock into you slowly, driving a long, thirsty pant from your mouth before his.

"God fuck, Wade." Your hand rested at his neck, your thumb rubbing against the lobe of his ear.

Your forehead rested to his, glancing down between your bodies to see his cock sink into you. Your hold tightened, feeling his tip caress your g-spot.

He spared a cocky chuckle against your lips, "I know, kitten. I call it the Tardis, it's bigger when inside."

You exhaled in his direction, noting his shitty play on words and rolling your hips further to ease him more.

"Fuck, call me that again," you groaned, Wade's cock finally reaching the hilt.

Wade leaned into you, pressing your back to the bed and raising your leg around his waist.

"Kitten," Wade drew out, taking a moment to revel in the soft, wet pulse of your pussy. "Oh baby, that pussy feels as good as it tastes."

Your eyes rolled at that, rutting against the mattress before rolling up at Wade. The minimal movement you felt with the tip of his cock grazing the hot inner core of your pussy.

He managed to pull out a couple inches, easing himself back in with a deep hiss.

"I wish I could fuck you like I hate you," he whispered, pulling back out and running his hands down your legs before crossing both of them around his waist.

Wade took grip of your hip and pulled you up in his lap. He crossed an arm at the small of your back and used his tender strength to ease you up on his cock, then back down again.

Every sink back down, you felt a new wave of pleasure roll through you. You tried to meet his upward thrusts with cants of your hips but his hand stopped you.

"Take your time, baby. I wanna savor this," he whispered, raking his eyes down your body from your breasts to your mound pressed to his.

Your hands felt over his skin, your breath catching on his words. "Me too."

Wade hummed, flicking his gaze to meet yours; his eyes were fueled with a carnal hunger, leaning in to rest his chin between your breasts.

He turned his head, resting his ear to your chest while he huffed hot air against your nipple. You crossed an arm behind his shoulders to hold him there, following his steady thrusts with deep sighs.

Wade defied your expectations, making every touch personal and each thrust targeted to a pleasant experience.

You slowly came undone in his lap, draping your body over him as you were halfway to an explosive end.

Your arms crossed behind Wade's neck, leaning your forehead against his as his hands rocked your hips forward and back on his cock.

"Little Wade's gonna be all wrinkled when he's done in you," Wade muttered.

You scrunched your nose at him, wanting to smile but feeling the heat in your cheeks kept you strained.

"I'll make your cock a part of me," you whimpered as his thumb crossed to touch your clit.

You clenched then, moaning louder in his face.

"That's it, kitten. Make it your own." He held his breath, letting you squeeze his cock with your fluttering walls.

Slowly, your orgasm built from there; each thrust driving you further until you were coming on Wade's cock, tightening your hold on it while your clit pulsed in response.

"Wade," you heaved.

It was tight again, the new sensation returning with you wetting Wade's thighs and the mattress.

"Baby," Wade grit, stopping the rocking of your hips and letting you edge him towards release.

You felt his cock twitch inside you, making you flutter again. Wade dropped his head to your shoulder, a choking moan stuttering from his lips.

Your real name, not a nickname. You gasped, hummed in response as your arms folded against his back to hold him close.

Your fingers swirled against the back of his head, swaying on his waist as come spurt into you, dousing the inner fire Wade caused.

But that wasn't enough to sate you. You two stayed molded together in the center of the bed, catching your breath while soft noises escaped you both.

Wade was the first to part from you, pulling out gently and tossing you off of him. He climbed off of the bed, bent to grab his towel and threw it over his shoulder at you.

"Stay there," Wade said, streaking over to the kitchen island to retrieve the boxes of Chinese food.

You grinned at him, flopping back onto the bed and wiggling your butt over the towel to keep the remainder of Wade's bed clean.

"Kung pao, kitten?" Wade offered, kneeling onto the bed and setting the boxes precariously on the comforter.

You nodded, staring dreamily at Wade; he moved over to you, reaching for the towel to clean up the cum that was easing out of you.

"I'm starving," you added, turning your torso on your side. You reached for the box of lo mein, tilting your chin up to beg a peck from Wade. "Thanks babe."

Wade slowly broke into a smile, leaning after your lips to get another. "Call me that all the time."

You hummed, going for the chopsticks attached to the side of your food. Wade shifted onto the bed, crossing his leg and taking his box of kung pao with stealing the fork from your lo mein.

He opened the box and stabbed at the biggest piece, bringing it to his lips before stopping.

Wade watched as you picked up a sliver of broccoli intertwined with noodles and held his fork out. You quirked a brow at him, tilting your head before tapping your chopsticks to his fork.

"To a year of us," Wade smiled. "Hopefully more."

--------------------------------------------

(y'all remember when YY did a full seven minutes in heaven with several different anime characters and it dragged on for a bit? that's this fic for me. anything I'll want to write for others, I'll try it out with my wade wilson 😝)

#wade wilson #deadpool #deadpool x reader #fanfic #fan work #wade wilson x reader #wade wilson x you #deadpool x you #mss: bakeneko #bakeneko

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just-jordie-things · 7 months

Text

[epilogue] to build a home - gojo satoru

word count: 25.4k warnings: swearing, drinking. reader has absent parents summary: just a handful of events that transpired after the conclusion of to build a home.

to build a home series masterlist

[epilogue] : "For You, For Me"

___

[ cause i built a home, for you, for me ]

Maybe it was just the beautiful stretch of summer into early fall, but the days had seemed lighter. As though the sun’s rays lasted a little longer each day, as though the great bright star couldn’t bear to part with the day too soon.

Or maybe (y/n) was just so sickeningly happy all the time that she finally noticed the sunny days when they came around, and learned to properly appreciate them. If the sun was shining, she was dragging the two kids out of the apartment and anywhere else- as long as they were outside.

Summer vacation was mostly spent at the park, or at the public market, when Megumi was in a good enough mood to go, anyways. Tsumiki loved going to the market with (y/n), especially since she’d get to pick out all of her favorite fruits and veggies for the upcoming week. Megumi mostly clung like a shadow behind (y/n), hating the busy space and strangers who were too friendly. There was the rare occasion that he’d want to look at the stalls of old books, and (y/n) found that with the promise of looking for a new book, he would relax a little more in the high traffic area. Was it bribery? Maybe. But didn��t all parents have to bribe their kids at some point?

Most nights were spent relaxing, a luxury that (y/n) wouldn’t give up for all the treasures of the world.

Gathering in the living room to watch a movie with snacks covering the coffee table had become a weekly ritual. They took turns picking out a movie, and the rule was always that if they could compromise when it’s a movie one of them isn’t interested in, then snacks were on her. Of course a certain Six Eyes user tended to drop by not-so-at-random with a backpack full of sweets and long limbs that took up most of the couch. Megumi would bring a pile of blankets to the floor when Satoru joined them for movie nights, claiming that he and (y/n) would hog all the cushions. It was mostly Satoru, as (y/n) would try to cling to one side of the sofa, but her attempts were to no avail. Satoru always found a way to crowd her until she was practically curled up under his arm. Megumi would stick his tongue out in Tsumiki’s direction, disgusted by the abundance of physical affection that Satoru demanded to give to (y/n). Tsumiki, however, always found it sweet.

Other nights they’d spend in comfortable silence, the three of them in their favorite cozy spots as they read to themselves. (y/n) often sprawled across the living room sofa with whatever she was reading. Tsumiki liked to read in a little nook she’d made in the corner of her room, complete with a string of twinkly lights and a big bean bag chair. Megumi would join (y/n) in the living room, sitting in the oversized chair that matched the living room set. He was so small in the large cushions he could lay any which way he pleased, but he most often sat crisscrossed with his new favorite book in his lap. Sometimes (y/n) would convince him to read to her, even when he was halfway through a story she hadn’t been familiar with. She enjoyed the peaceful quality time, even if it was spent in hours of silence.

And then there was her favorite way for the kids to spend their evenings- coloring. It was a simple activity, one that she’d indulged in as a child often enough, but hadn’t thought much about until she’d randomly picked up a big pack of crayons on a grocery trip. It must’ve been a good choice, because Megumi and Tsumiki got right to work on their imaginations. Now their rooms, and the refrigerator, were covered in their artwork. Tsumiki liked to draw flowers, sometimes full meadows complete with a sunny sky and rainbows, and sometimes she’d practice different petals with different colors, always trying to learn new things. Megumi liked to draw his shikigami, giving each one that manifests it’s own name. He also liked to draw characters from his favorite books. (y/n) helped him to carefully tape them up on his bookshelf to display properly. However she had hand-picked a few of their drawings to go on the fridge- which held the same honor as a knight being sworn into duty. There were a few of Tsumiki’s flowers, and a few of Megumi’s favorite scenes from his books- even the darker ones that held a touch of blood and gore (y/n) would have to talk to him about before he went back to school- but there was one in particular that outshined them all.

It was a drawing they’d done together, on a larger piece of cardstock, of all of them. There was a carefully drawn out scribble that resembled her, in her signature uniform- black collared jacket and matching black pants- her hair was meticulously thought out, the crayon color carefully chosen, and the strokes of length determined while the pair of kids studied her closely, making sure that their drawing resembled her true form perfectly. On either side of her stick figure self was one of them, Megumi identified by the sea urchin he’d drawn on top of his head, and Tsumiki by the smile that took up her whole face and the big pink bow in her hair that she wore religiously since (y/n) had gotten it for her. Lastly, and maybe (y/n’s) favorite part, was that Megumi had chosen to add his dogs to the family portrait. Sitting right beside each other with little squiggles around their tails to show they were happily wagging, and complete with the red markings on their heads.

As soon as they’d presented this drawing to (y/n), she’d almost burst into tears at how sweet it was. They laughed at her teary eyes while she smiled and gazed fondly at the picture, taking in every little detail and committing it to memory. She deemed it the greatest gift she’d ever received, and marched it right to the fridge, clipping it up with magnets. It took up most of the freezer door, but it would stay there until it was time for it to be moved to a new fridge.

When back to school season rolled around, (y/n) dragged them off to the mall, proudly displaying her earnings from the assignments she’d picked up over the summer. Now that she wasn’t a student anymore, getting paid to exorcize demons had become a great source of income. Of course in the midst of Megumi and Tsumiki ogling all the new backpacks with bright colors and anime characters, their favorite special grade sorcerer showed up with a black card that seemed to hold boundless funds, as he paid for every little thing either one of the children picked up.

“They’re going to grow up with a bad understanding of how money works, Satoru” (y/n) had scolded him while Megumi and Tsumiki watched a cashier ring up hundreds of dollars worth of supplies they ‘needed’.

“Nah, I’ll buy them the best tutor in Japan so they don’t” He’d replied, sticking his tongue out at her.

(y/n) rolled her eyes, but as she turned her head away to ignore him, she couldn’t help the small smile that graced her face. She’d been making enough money to support this small makeshift family, but having Satoru around to help was still appreciated. Of course, she could never tell him that. His ego was big enough for the both of them.

Once school was back in session, a decent routine was established. (y/n) picked up as many assignments during the days as she could, so that her nights could be spent helping them with homework, making dinner, getting chores done, and all the other little things that eat away at your free time when you’re an adult. Not that she could complain, she adored every minute of the new life she worked to maintain. However there was the occasion where an assignment too good to pass up would be on her radar in the evenings. It only took one mention of this to Satoru for him to enlist himself as a babysitter.

It wasn’t often that she’d be gone in the evenings. She liked to be present at all times when Megumi and Tsumiki were home. They’d spent too much of their lives being alone, and while they proved to be self-sufficient, it made (y/n’s) heart sink at the thought of purposefully leaving them home alone. So when Satoru showed up on the evening she’d been offered a well-paid assignment to hunt down a Grade Two cursed object, she let him stay to watch the kids. Not before giving Tsumiki all of the emergency numbers she could think of, and reminding Megumi of the pendant she’d given him, also in the case of an emergency.

“It’s like you don’t trust me, sweetheart!” Satoru had laughed when she spent too long saying her goodbyes at the door. He hastily began pushing her out, making sure her weapons were secure in their holsters on her back. “Go! Go! Have fun! We’ll be fine here!”

“Okay, just don’t forget they go to bed at-”

“Nine o’clock, I’ve got it”

“And they need to brush their teeth-”

“I’m capable!” He barked at her, all but closing the door in her face while he wore a massive grin.

Long story short, Satoru had given the Fushiguro kids twenty bucks if they promised not to tell her that they’d been up long past their bedtime watching an anime with him that was probably less than appropriate for their age. But they’d just loved it so much he’d insisted they binge half the series. It was the closest thing to quality time with Megumi that he was going to get, as the kid begrudgingly sat on the couch next to him with his eyes glued to the screen. Satoru did his best to cover their eyes when an unsavory scene played, which Tsumiki appreciated, but Megumi always pawed the man’s hand away so he could see what was happening.

“If you get nightmares, (y/n’s) going to kill me” He scolded, clamping his palm over the kid’s whole face to ensure he wasn’t going to catch sight of any true horror.

“I don’t get nightmares!” Megumi argued, trying to claw the hand off his face, but his efforts led nowhere, and he only found himself more annoyed as the man-child laughed at the attempt.

It was nearing the middle of the night when Satoru finally turned off the television and sent them off to brush their teeth. Worried (y/n) would return soon and catch them in the act of disobeying her few rules, he rushed them with hurried claps and chanting to get them into their pajamas and under the covers. It was Megumi who’d attempted blackmailing him, reminding him that (y/n) was going to know they were up late. With an amused grin he’d given the boy a fiver.

“Five dollars?” Megumi gave him a bored look, remembering that shopping day with the magic black credit card that paid for his and Tsumiki’s back-to-school haul. (And a few things for (y/n) too, no matter how much she protested)

Grimacing, Satoru smacked a twenty on his nightstand with the warning that any more, and he’d tell (y/n) he acted up all night and should be punished. Megumi stuck his tongue out at the man as he flipped off the lights and shut the door for the night.

Joke’s on him, the boy thought bitterly as he settled into his blankets. (y/n) would believe me over that grown child any day of the week, he thinks with certainty. He wasn’t wrong. If it was Satoru’s word against Megumi’s, the liar was evident in his charming smile and flashing eyes.

Satoru had just come back to the living room to clean up the small mess of blankets they’d made when the doorknob rattled with the familiar sound of a key unlocking it. (y/n) dragged her feet as she made her way inside, a bit surprised to see Satoru awake and alert, her collection of throw blankets draped over his arms and shoulders.

“How’d the assignment go?” He asked as she kicked off her boots, flinging them towards the door with lazy movements.

“I completed it, let’s leave it at that,” She says, and he’d take concern in her words if they weren’t followed by a chuckle, and a small smile sent his way. “Thank you for watching the kids, Satoru, I really appreciate it”

He thinks back to this night often, as it was the beginning of (y/n) putting some trust in him as a caretaker.

Every few weeks now he’d show up in the evening to put the kids to bed while she was out exorcizing curses. Babysitting slowly morphed into him inviting himself over for movie nights, or even for no reason at all. The kids- yes, Megumi too- grew used to the man showing up unannounced, before school while (y/n) made breakfast, or during pickup time right by her side, seemingly just as excited to greet them as she was. He just seemed to be around, sometimes. Tsumiki loved it, as it usually meant spoiling with toys and ice cream and whatever else (y/n) would let him get away with. Megumi… tolerated it. But at least he didn’t despise it anymore.

There was a morning (y/n) had gotten a call from Jujutsu Tech just as she was prepping their lunches for that day, and to her luck Satoru was there and happy to make their lunches for them so that she didn’t have to ignore what could potentially be an important call.

“Okay, just, do you mind making them a little drawing or note, too?” She’d rummaged through a messy cabinet drawer to produce a pack of post-it notes and a pink marker. “I always leave them a message, or a doodle, or something”

With her phone pressed between her shoulder and ear as she intently listened to whoever was on the other end, Satoru grinned as he accepted this mission, and got to work.

It wasn’t until she picked them up from school that (y/n) realized her mistake. Megumi was clutching his stomach as he hobbled towards her in the courtyard, while Tsumiki was skipping along beside her brother, happier than ever.

“What’s wrong? Tummy hurt?” (y/n) knelt down before the boy, her hand resting over her forehead to see if it was a fever. He groaned and practically fell against her.

“Carry me”

It wasn’t like him, so she had to laugh as she slung his little backpack over her arm before lifting him up, hearing him groan and moan as all the sweets in his stomach sloshed around like poison.

“Gojo gave us candy! And cookies!”

(y/n’s) head swiveled down to where Tsumiki was walking- well, still skipping- at her side.

“What did you say?”

“Gojo gave us sweets for lunch,” Megumi grumbled as his head slumped into her shoulder, his eyes squeezing shut as a particularly painful knot wound itself up in his stomach. “And money”

“What!?” (y/n) snapped, louder than she should have, as the other parents at pick-up gave her a mix of shocked and dirty looks. Not that she cared. Her kid was sick and it was because that idiot didn’t know what a vegetable looked like!

“I got fifty dollars!” Tsumiki cheered.

“I got a hundred” Megumi whined.

(y/n) gave the boy a few children’s tums as soon as they got back to the apartment, before tucking him into bed so he could hopefully sleep off the tummyache.

“You just rest, don’t worry about your homework, I’ll call the school if you can’t get to it tonight, okay?”

Megumi only grumbled and groaned in his gratitude as he curled in on himself. (y/n) frowned. The poor kid was squirming around in discomfort and there wasn’t much else she could do about it.

Well, there was one thing…

“Hey sweetheart,” Satoru’s grin could be heard even through the phone. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this call~?”

“Gojo Satoru, you get your ass to this apartment right now!”

From her spot at the kitchen table where she’d been studiously doing her homework, Tsumiki perked right up at (y/n’s) hollering from the living room. Her eyes went wide as she grinned with excitement. She’d never seen (y/n) mad before, not like this anyways.

Just as she’d summoned him, the man himself stood before her in the living room, grinning as though he hadn’t just been screamed at.

“Pretty early in the day for a bootycall-”

“Satoru!” (y/n) barked at him, her arms flying out as she placed her hands on her hips. “Did you give the kids sweets and money for their lunch!?”

“Yeah, they loved it, right?” He looked proud, and she swore she could strangle him.

If she had a nickel for every time she didn’t strangle him…

Tsumiki couldn’t even pretend to do her homework while (y/n) went on a long rant about how much of an idiot was, followed by something about not knowing how to make a sandwich, and then the grand finale of her grabbing him by the wrist and yanking him down the hallway so he could see the effects of his unhealthy meal for Megumi. Even as (y/n’s) scolding took on hushed whispers so as not to wake the sleeping boy, Tsumiki could still hear the harsh tone from down the hall.

When she was dragging him back towards the kitchen again, the young girl quickly picked up her pencil and kept her eyes on her paper. She wasn’t fast enough, as Satoru noticed and stuck his tongue out at her.

‘Tattletale’ he mouthed at her.

She grinned back at him unapologetically.

(y/n) spent the next fifteen minutes giving Satoru a full tour of the kitchen, pointing out each and every item each of the kids loved, and then she dragged him through it all again to show him what they each disliked. Tsumiki worked on her studies the whole time, and not once did she see the white haired man complain. He certainly didn’t look pleased about spending his afternoon being scolded like a misbehaving pet, but he didn’t make a peep about it.

He even stuck around the rest of the afternoon to help out with any other chores (y/n) needed done, and he helped make dinner, too. Well, (y/n) was the one instructing him on what to do, but Tsumiki found the meal to be edible, and actually semi-okay!

(y/n) let him get off easy, as long as he apologized to Megumi when he woke up. Which he did, and which Megumi begrudgingly accepted.

He’s given the chance to completely redeem himself a few weeks later on a morning (y/n) made pancakes for breakfast. He made the Fushiguro kids the perfect lunches as he’d called them, and he insisted only a heaping scoop of chocolate chips in his pancakes, not theirs. (Though he did sneak a handful into Tsumiki’s grabby hands when she caught him dumping the entire bag into the batter). He even added his own notes in their lunch bags, even though (y/n) had already put her own doodles in them.

Have a good day! Don’t forget to participate a lot so the teacher favors you and gives you good grades! He’d written for Tsumiki.

Make sure to tell (y/n/n) that this lunch was made extra special for you so i get some brownie points <3 Was Megumi’s note.

He rolled his eyes as he crumpled it up and threw it back into his lunch bag without a second thought. When he’d brought it home that day and put it back in it’s spot in the cupboard he’d completely forgotten it. So it sat there until the next morning when (y/n) was preparing their lunches again.

When she unzipped the bag to see the small piece of trash, she’d almost made the mistake of scolding Megumi for not throwing it away. But for some reason curiosity got the best of her as she smoothed out the creases of the pink post-it, only to be gifted with a nervous swell of her heart. She couldn’t explain why, but she tucked it away in her pocket and went about the rest of the morning with a smile on her face. Megumi and Tsumiki were just glad to see her in a good mood, and didn’t question it too much.

The subject of the note didn’t come up again until the night of (y/n’s) twentieth birthday.

With it being such a big milestone, Shoko insisted on taking her out for the night. She’d been twenty for a few months longer, and had been biting at the bit to have her best friend share nights with her on the dancefloor at the bar she’d been frequenting mostly alone. Satoru would go with her sometimes as well, since he was of age too, but Shoko claimed it was no fun when he wouldn’t drink. (y/n’s) birthday was a big deal.

So naturally and per Shoko’s demand, Satoru was set to babysit- as much as the Fushiguro kids hated the word- while Shoko took (y/n) out for the night. And it went…

“Would you take the damn shoes off already? You’re going to break an ankle” Satoru’s arm shot out to stabilize the giggling, wasted girl stumbling beside him as he tried to guide her through her building’s lobby.

“No,” (y/n) shook her head defiantly before swatting his hand at her waist with the same attitude. He didn’t move it, and she didn’t try to push off his help again. “I loooove these shoes!”

In an eager display she kicked her foot outwards, showing off the strappy heel that was already starting to untie at her ankle and droop a bit off of her foot. To Satoru’s surprise, she actually kept her balance perfectly fine on one foot.

“Keep your feet on the ground,” He reprimands anyways, just as she goes back to walking normally. “Don’t make me teleport you up there”

“Don’t you dare!” She shouts back at him, and he has to fight off a laugh as he shushes her.

He’d seen (y/n) drink before, on the occasion Shoko or Suguru had managed to get their hands on anything, but he’d never seen her like this. Although he’d been slightly annoyed when he’d been called to play designated teleporter and bring both girls home from their celebration at a club he’d never heard of. The annoyance only increased tenfold when after the initial trip, (y/n) had warned him she was bound to be sick if he did it again. Which led them here, with Satoru trying to corral her into the elevator at two in the morning.

He’d rought Shoko straight to the spare room, where she’d passed out on top of the covers without so much as a goodnight. She’d wake up feeling like she’d been struck by a bus for sure, but at least she had no issue with the effects of teleporting.

She continued to grumble about her offense to his threat. Satoru chuckled as he all but pulled her into the elevator.

“I’m not, I’m not,” He assured her, making sure she was steady leaning back against the wall before pressing the button for her floor. “You’re not gonna get sick in here, are you?”

She shakes her head, but her eyes are closed as she cranes her neck all the way back, grinning at who-knows-what. Nothing amusing had happened- besides her own drunken antics- but Satoru finds himself infected by her, and he’s smiling as well.

“It was sooo m’ch fun,” She answered his unspoken curiosity. “Shoko’s a realllyy good dancer, I had n’ idea”

“I’m glad it was fun,” He tells her, and he means it. Even when he has to guide her off the elevator and to her door like it was her first time there. “You’ll have to take me dancing with you next time, I could show you some moves”

Normally she rolls her eyes at his flirting, or hits his shoulder in that silent motion she always does to remind him that they were friends and she’d drawn a thick line in the sand just to prove it. Tonight, she giggles like she couldn’t have kept her humor and joy contained if she tried. Her teeth flash as she grins from ear to ear, her eyes crinkle and they smudge some of her mascara against her skin as they do but she doesn’t seem to care. She doesn’t seem to notice. She just smiles and laughs at him.

His heart warms, so much he worries it might melt completely if he leaves it there in the palms of her hands, but he lets it remain in it’s place anyway as he pauses at the door of her apartment, lingering in the hall for just a moment longer so he could admire her like this.

Happy. Happy with him.

Satoru might be delusional, but her head tilts to the side, almost dropping to her shoulder from how heavy it feels, and he thinks from the look in her eye, that maybe she could be admiring him, too.

Reality is cruel and reminds him that even if she was, she wasn’t in the right state of mind, and she very well could have been lost in her thoughts. So he pushes his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose before unlocking the door and making sure she walked in okay.

“You’re home!”

The excited cheer from Tsumiki is quickly drowned out by Satoru’s scolding.

“What are you both doing up?” He asked, uncharacteristically irritated with them.

“You left,” Tsumiki shrugged innocently.

Megumi, who sat beside her on the sofa, seemed to have fallen asleep against the armrest, his arms wrapped around his head for a better cushion as he continued to slumber, even through his sister’s loud shriek.

“And we wanted to give (y/n) her birthday present” The girl finished sweetly.

“It’s two in the morning, it’s not even her birthday anym-”

“Awww!” (y/n) cooed as she clasped her hands over her mouth in shock. “Tsu that’s so sweet of you! I can’t wait to see it!”

It took some arguing, but Satoru eventually convinced (y/n) to get her ridiculous heels off while he put the kids back to bed. Megumi didn’t fuss once when he picked him up off the couch. He didn’t even bat an eye. Tsumiki was a bit more upset with the trip back to bed.

“But she wants her present!”

“You can give it to her in the morning,” Satoru told her. “It’s late. She’s going to crash. Trust me, she’ll be far more excited about it tomorrow”

Tsumiki pouted as she begrudgingly climbed into bed, but didn’t argue again after Satoru tucked her in and shut her door for the night. She even gave him a small goodnight.

“Sweet dreams, kiddo”

“Is (y/n) going to be okay?” She asked before he could shut the door all the way. He laughed to himself, nodding his head.

“Nothing to worry about, she might just have a tummy ache. She’ll sleep it off,” He assured her. Tsumiki nodded back at him as she settled back into her feathery pillow, overwhelmed by her sleepiness rather quickly. “Just get some sleep, I’ll take care of her”

Tsumiki seems satisfied with this answer, as she nods and starts to drift off to sleep. What Megumi lacked in faith in Satoru, Tsumiki made up for tenfold. For starters, she seemed to actually like him. She was always happy to have him as company, always trying to climb up to his shoulders and demanding he piggy back her anywhere they went. Megumi tended to cling to (y/n’s) side, knowing she’d protect him from Satoru’s physical affections. But secondly, Tsumiki could pick up on the sweet little things that her younger brother didn’t. She noticed the way that Satoru listened when (y/n) was talking. The way his eyes never lost focus when they were on her, the way his teasing picked up, as did the pet names. Honestly, Tsumiki wasn’t sure if Megumi didn’t notice, or if he was completely ignoring it, because it was hard to miss.

Satoru was very sweet on (y/n).

So when he said he’d take care of her for the night, Tsumiki believed him.

Before Satoru can make his way back to the living room where he’d left the plastered birthday girl, he could hear her across the hall, a soft voice through the open door opposite of Tsumiki’s.

He peeks his head through the crack in the door, about to chastise her for waking up the sleeping eight year old, but the scold dies in his throat as he catches sight of them.

She’s perched on the side of his bed, one leg tucked under herself as she hums a gentle, melodic tune. One hand is combing through the mess of Megumi’s hair that’s grown tangled from his tossing and turning, and he doesn’t seem to stir or be bothered at all from the action like he usually is when someone touches his hair. But even more out of character than that, when (y/n) reaches her free hand to grab the one that Megumi had hanging off his mattress, he lets her hold onto it for a lingering minute after she carefully sets it on a more comfortable place over his covers. A few lyrics slip past her lips in a murmur of a lullaby amidst her humming. She gives his hand a squeeze, just a gentle little affirmation to remind him that she was there.

Even from the doorway, Satoru can see the boy’s small fingers wrap around her hand, squeezing back, and then keeping his hold on her. His initial surprise melts away into something softer. A warm feeling washing over his chest from knowing that Megumi found a comfort in the woman’s presence, and while he was often too reserved to tell her outright, like his sister would, it was still known that (y/n’s) care for these kids was mutual, returned by the both of them greatly.

With a small smile, (y/n) glances over to Satoru in the hallway, as though to silently ask if he’d seen the small action. He nodded back at her, before beckoning her to leave the room and let the boy sleep.

“Sleep tight, ‘gumi,” She mumbles softly, giving his head an affectionate scratch before pulling her hand from his hair. “Love you”

It was small, but undeniably heard when the half-conscious child mumbles back, “Love you too”

(y/n) pauses as she’s standing from his bed, her eyes widening with soft surprise at the whispered words. It hits her then that in the few times she’d casually bestowed them upon the kids it was never quite returned. Megumi had drifted off to sleep just as her weight had shifted off his mattress, but still, she stood over him with a look on her face as if she expected an explanation.

Not that she needed one- the words spoke for themselves. Her lips curled into a smile and the alcohol in her system wasn’t the only thing making her chest feel warm. She gave his hand another squeeze before carefully letting go, making sure it stayed in a place where it wouldn’t hang off the bed again.

On the tips of her toes she leaves the room to join Satoru in the hall. He makes sure the door is silent as he closes it behind her.

Her small smile breaks into a grin as she gazes up at him, unable to contain her excitement from hearing those silly little words.

“Did you hear that?” She murmurs as her hands grab the front of his shirt. The quick motion almost has him stumbling as she bounces eagerly. “He’s never said that to me before!” Her whispered squealing has Satoru mirroring her grin.

“I heard. I’m happy for you sweetheart,” He tells her, trying to guide her to her room so she could finally crash for the night. She stumbles along much more pliantly than she had before. “Not that you needed him to tell you, of course the kid loves you. They both do”

A bashful shade of pink dusts her face as they enter her bedroom. She falls back onto her bed with a content sigh, despite Satoru trying to get her to change into something more comfortable than the fitted little thing she’d called a dress that she’d gone out dancing in.

“I guess I knew that, but, still, it’s nice to hear,” She murmurs up at the ceiling as she stretches her arms across the length of her bed. She’s bent over it, her toes barely touching the floor as her legs dangle off the side, but in her stupor she seems comfortable enough. “Makes me feel like I’m doing something right, yaknow?”

She pats the spot beside her with her hand, and Satoru drags his feet a bit as he wanders over and sits next to her.

“You don’t need to be told that either,” He muses.

He rests his palms behind him as he lets himself get comfortable in her space. When they still lived in dorms, he spent just as much time in her room as he did his own. Now that he thinks about it, he was probably in hers much more than anyone else’s. It hadn’t seemed weird back then, but now, it feels personal. Intimate. He wonders if she feels that way, or if the invitation into her most private space had been extended without a second thought. Satoru pulls the shades off his face and tosses them to the side, between the two of them.

“They know you love them, too. Always have,” He reassures her. “You’ve done right by them. You gotta know that”

(y/n) tilts her head back against the covers, peering up at him from under heavy eyelids as he gazes down at her fondly. Her room is only lit by the hallway light that’s peeking in through the crack in her not-quite-closed door, and the soft yellow hue paints over his face in a way that somehow makes him more alluring. Her lowered defenses had her eyes wandering his features longer than she would have had her sober mind worked correctly and reminded her to shut down that curiosity.

That is, she stares at him until the heat in her face and the rapid beating of her heart overstimulates her and she makes herself look away before she says or does something she might regret.

When she does break her long stare, her eyes land on the familiar round shades that happen to be in arm’s reach, and she grabs them and pulls them over her face without a second thought.

Without permission, her mind wanders off to wonder what would’ve happened between them had they gone on that date all those months ago before they graduated.

It’s harder to make out her face with his oversized sunglasses covering her eyes, but Satoru can see her lips tug into a frown. He’s about to ask her what’s on her mind when she speaks first.

“Would you stay the night?”

Her fingers are wound into the soft fabric of her covers, fisting it tightly as though it kept her anchored.

“Shoko’s in your spare room already,” He chuckles as he reminds her. “And she’s hogging the whole bed. I think if I wake her up she’ll mur-”

“You can stay in here,” She’s mumbling, half incoherently, but he hears her just fine. “Like… before” She adds as an afterthought.

He can’t deny the way his heart lurches in his chest at the offer, and the reminder. The nights he spent sneaking into her dorm to coax her into at least a few hours of sleep, until she’d learned again how to sleep through a night on her own, he’d hold onto forever. He’d sworn to commit them to memory. The way she’d melt into his arms, as though she’d only know comfort and solace when embraced by them. The way she felt against him, against his chest, with her legs wrapped around his, with her face in the crook of his neck, with her hands gripping onto his shirt for dear life, with her heart beating against his. Satoru had overindulged himself back then, he’d gotten too much of a taste of what domesticity with her could feel like. Now he craved it, he desperately yearned for it.

The last time they’d even slept in the same room had been the night before their meeting with the Zen’in Clan. And she’d been far from him, curled up on the floor with that damned letter in her hands. Satoru wondered now if she still had it. He wondered if she still slept clutching onto something. He wondered if she was able to sleep soundly without him now.

He’s sure that he shouldn’t dip even a finger back into this addiction. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to stand it when she inevitably tells him this is the last time, and pushes him away, again.

Just like she had done when he’d tried to make them something more.

It’s just one assignment, sweetheart, he’d told her over the phone, knowing fully well that she was all done up on the other end, waiting for him to pick her up at their agreed upon time. We’ll rain check, promise.

She’d taken in a shaky breath, he could hear it even through the phone, even with the downpour of rain in Yokohama. He always wondered if she’d cried that day, over him, over the failed attempt at a date, over his failure at showing up for her.

I don’t think it’s a good idea, ‘toru, she’d spoken as evenly as she could, even though it made her voice quieter.

How ‘bout tomorrow, hm? You can pick the place this time, anywhere you want, s’on me- He’d tried to convince her before she could put an end to this thing before it’d even started- hell, they’d barely even had a chance, hadn’t they?

But her mind had already been made up. And with a breaking heart, she’d shut him down.

I don’t just mean tonight, she’d said. I don’t think this is a good idea.

God, he should’ve just stood his ground to the higher ups like he usually did and made someone else take on this stupid assignment. He wanted to blame them for ruining his one perfect chance with this girl, but at the end of the day, he’d let her decide. He let her be the one to end it before it really began.

I just… I just need to think about the kids right now, she’d sighed through her words. As far as excuses go, it wasn’t necessarily a bad one. They need to come first to me and… and your future should come first to you, too.

He should’ve called bullshit. He knows that now. He shouldn't have sat there and agreed with her because he didn’t want them to fight. Fuck. He should’ve argued, even if it had meant fighting with her. As long as it also meant he could’ve seen what she’d chosen to wear for their date, how she’d done her hair, her makeup, then it would’ve been worth it.

I know you’re favored far more over me, but we’ll both always have assignments, she’d explained it like he didn’t already know what this chapter of their lives would look like. Then again, he’d sat there in silence and let her pour out reason after reason as to why they couldn’t do this.

Satoru still wasn’t sure if it was him she was trying to convince that day.

And I… and I wouldn’t forgive myself if things didn’t… work… you know? She’d finished shakily, nervously. For the kids’ sake, Satoru, she’d told him. For your sake. For my sake.

He’d agreed. He’d stupidly agreed. They never talked about it again after that phone call. For the most part, nothing had changed.

Except that first time he’d seen her afterwards. She had a hard time looking at him, and shifted her weight between her feet when he stood too close. But over time they got back into the groove of their friendship. He remained abundantly affectionate, and she remained oblivious to the less-than obvious advances.

It was a surprise to him now that she was blurring the lines between them- the lines she’d drawn. Would it be reckless of him to indulge once more? Would it be painful in the morning when she shooed him away before anyone could know he stayed here, with her?

Probably.

But what he says is, “Yeah, if you’re sure”

He does manage to convince her into changing into the comfiest pair of pajamas she could find, so that when she woke it was one less discomfort added to the long list of grievances her hangover would have in store. Somehow, he gets her to put on a change of clothes and brush her teeth before she’s crawling into her bed with a lazy smile. It’s almost three in the morning at this point, but worrying about the time is far from Satoru’s mind as she settles into his side like it was still second nature.

Long after she’d dozed off tucked under his arm, he laid there awake, wondering how different things could have been, had he plucked up the courage to say no. To say this will work, because we want it to work, because I want it to work, because I’ve wanted nothing but to be yours.

But tonight, the only one in this apartment with any guts is Megumi. Only Megumi was strong enough to articulate how he felt with those special little words that were too heavy for Satoru’s tongue.

With bags under his eyes and sluggish muscles Satoru gets out of bed as soon as he awakes to make breakfast for the full house. Megumi and Tsumiki are up first, eager for the breakfast buffet Satoru had managed to give them without the smoke alarm going off. Shoko drags herself out to the kitchen not too long after, downing a full cup of water before bidding them good morning and snagging some of the potatoes before Tsumiki could dump them all on her plate.

Satoru and Shoko tell unflattering stories about (y/n) with great excitement for gossip to the kids while their missing caretaker slept in as late as possible. Satoru had made sure to bring a cold face mask to her every fifteen minutes or so to keep her headache at bay and hopefully let her sleep as long as she could. Once she awoke she was in for a world of hurt. Each time Satoru left the kitchen to do this for her, Shoko turned to the kids with a knowing look and a snicker.

“They were in love in school you know,” She indulged in a more interesting piece of gossip during one of these times.

Tsumiki’s eyes widened as she grinned. Megumi’s brows furrowed as he pressed his lips together tightly.

“He’d follow her around like a lost puppy, it was hilarious” Shoko shoved a forkful of carbs into her mouth with a fond smile at the memories of lovesick Satoru.

“He still does that” Megumi mumbles, staring down at the remainder of food on his plate.

Shoko beamed with her cheeks full, not at all surprised by the behavior, but endeared to know it hadn’t worn off in time. Satoru had changed a lot in the last six months, although some might have a hard time noticing, those close to him could see the heaviness he carried on his shoulders with little mannerisms and micro expressions that even he might be convinced aren’t there. To Shoko and (y/n), who knew the boy like the back of their hand, it was clear.

However she should’ve known that the feelings he’d held for (y/n) since they were fifteen weren’t the kind of feelings that could be worn away.

Satoru’s back in the kitchen attempting to make pancakes in the fun shapes that (y/n) does, desperate to impress everyone- mostly Megumi- but they come out a little more lumpy than hers do. He complains about it the whole time. Megumi and Shoko are indifferent. Tsumiki reassures him that they’re delicious, like the sweetheart she was.

(y/n) joins them for a brief minute, dragging her feet, and a blanket, into the kitchen on a journey to get a big cup of ice water. The plastic face mask that Satoru had just brought her was velcroed around her head, although loosely, as half of it stayed on her forehead and the other half slipped over one of her eyes. She made no efforts to fix it.

Shoko’s giggling with great amusement at the state of her lightweight friend. The blanket cape, the messy hair, the smeared mascara on her exposed eye, it was all too humorous. She started to pull her phone out to take a picture, but knowing what she was up to, Satoru snatched the device and pocketed it discreetly. He gave her a sour look, to which she rolled her eyes and went back to breakfast.

He’d fussed over her right away, asking what she was doing up, that he could’ve brought her anything she needed and that she should’ve just hollered. The three at the table watch as he adjusts her mask for her, reattaching the velcro to fit her snugly, keeping the cool parts of the gel-filled plastic against her throbbing forehead.

Shoko cackles not-so-discreetly behind her hand when he asks her if she was alright for a fourth time. After a solid minute of insisting that he’d get everything for her, she shuffles back to the comfort of her dark room.

Satoru is quick to fill a cup to the brim with ice and then water, and rather than walk the ten feet to her door, he teleports it to her. Shoko rolls her eyes and shares a smile with Tsumiki.

“Yeah, nothing’s changed”

It takes a few hours for (y/n) to feel rejuvenated enough to take a shower and join the group lazing around the living room. Shoko had stayed for the day, so Satoru insisted they take turns picking movies. (y/n) appears like a woman brought back to life halfway through the second film. Satoru and Shoko cheer for her revival as she plops on the couch between Tsumiki and Satoru.

“Can we give you your present now?” Tsumiki asks, to which (y/n) eagerly accepts, so she and her brother rush out of the room to retrieve it.

With the kids gone, Shoko can finally give her friends the interrogation she’d been dying to all morning.

“So, you still sleep together, huh?” She raises a curious eyebrow.

(y/n) sighs, dropping her head back against the couch cushion, still feeling too light headed for this conversation. Satoru doesn’t say anything either, though (y/n) can’t tell if he’s avoiding the conversation, or just didn’t know how to explain himself. It doesn’t matter, Shoko doesn’t have any more questions, and shortly after, the Fushiguro kids are running into the room again.

They each have a hand on the brightly colored gift bag as they hand it to her. (y/n) beams at their excitement as she eyes all of the tissue paper they’d stuffed into the bag.

“You help with this?” She muses to Satoru, who shakes his head, looking just as curious as she was.

“We did it all ourselves!” Tsumiki said with a proud grin.

(y/n) pulls out wad after wad of tissue, placing them all on the coffee table as she digs for her gift. When she finally does get to the bottom of the bag, her lips morph into an ‘o’ as she lifts the piece of art out from the bag.

Shoko’s eyes widen, and Satoru begins to laugh while (y/n) carefully holds the small clay sculpture in her hands. It couldn’t have been bigger than her hand, but the details were made of delicate pieces of clay, and she worried that if she didn’t handle it with care, it could crumble at her touch.

It was two blades, intersecting to make a perfect X. The handles sculpted and painted to look quite familiar.

“It’s your swords!” Tsumiki cheered, holding her hands to her face to contain her excitement.

“Wow, this is amazing,” (y/n) admired the sculpture further, taking note of every detail, from blade to hilt, it was a damn good replica. “You both made this?”

Tsumiki and Megumi each nodded.

“Tsumiki did the clay, I painted it” Megumi explained.

“We got extra credit in our art classes for it too!”

Satoru’s laughter grew louder, and (y/n’s) eyes widened with realization as she looked back at the kids.

“You… you made this in school?” She asked, trying not to wince. “Did you… get in trouble?”

Sure, the piece was perfect, and their collaboration did deserve some bonus points, but had no administrator gotten upset that an eight and ten year old made a weapon for their art project?

“I told our art teacher it was from an anime character” Megumi said sheepishly. (y/n’s) posture relaxed with her relief.

“Smart call,” She chuckles, before setting it down and reaching out to them both to pull them into a hug. “Thank you. I love it. I love that you made it together”

She sets it on a shelf in the living room with a few other pieces of art and picture frames, making sure to have it be front and center. Throughout the rest of the movie watching day, her eyes keep wandering to it, wanting to admire the thoughtful craft a little longer. _

Over the next few months, Megumi had been pouting a lot more often.

(y/n) wasn’t sure what it was. She and Satoru would make his favorite meal for dinner, and he would eat it with a bored expression. Even with a trip to the library, more practice with his Divine Dogs, extending his bed time for reading purposes only, the boy just seemed to be in a bitter rut.

At first she was worried for him, but Tsumiki had confirmed that nothing was happening at school, he wasn’t being picked on, and his grades, as always, were exceptional. (y/n) didn’t know what that could possibly leave.

“I just don’t get it,” She huffed as she slumped down into the couch beside Satoru, who had been spending most of his free time at the apartment now. Some nights he even stayed over, but he always took the guest room.

The night of (y/n’s) birthday had proven to be too much for him. So when she offered him to stay the night, he made a beeline for the spare bed. (y/n) never pushed him on it. But sometimes when they parted ways in the hall, she’d stare at the back of his head, and wonder if he could tell that she’d rather he stayed with her.

Satoru is also caved into the couch cushions, legs spread out wide before him and his arms crossed over his chest. He looked tired. He’d spent the whole evening giving Megumi tips and tricks to summoning and befriending his shikigami, hoping to lift the boy’s mood, and maybe score some brownie points, but to no avail. The boy seemed to have more of an attitude with him than usual, and Satoru wasn’t the best with kids, so he’d given up, and pushed the responsibility back onto (y/n). Megumi had less of an attitude with her, but his annoyance was still noticeable.

“Do you think we did something?” She mumbles, turning to Satoru with wide, worried eyes, and pinched brows. Then, she scoots closer to him, until they’re sharing one of the cushions. He doesn’t flinch at her closeness, unless you count the small hitch in his breath. “Do you think I did something?” She rephrases her question in an even more haunted whisper.

“No, no of course not,” He shakes his head at her, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head. “He’s a kid. Kids are just jerks sometimes”

“He is not a jerk,” (y/n) says with narrowed eyes. Satoru shrugs back at her, tilting his lips into a smirk. “But… he is a kid. I guess he could just be… acting out”

“I acted out all the time when I was his age” Satoru nods as he starts to understand some of Megumi’s behavior.

(y/n) rolled her eyes at him.

“You still act out,” She says, and he wants to act offended when he turns to her again, but it’s too cute when she’s pretending to be annoyed with him, so he finds himself smiling at her, almost proudly. “You’re the jerk, you know”

“Me?” He holds a hand over his chest, and she giggles quietly to herself at the act. “You break my heart, Little Hex”

Again she rolls her eyes as she leans her head back into the couch cushion, letting out her frustration and exhaustion from the day in a quiet sigh. It had been a while since Satoru had called her that, a nickname he’d coined back in high school. She could still remember the first time he called her that, with that saccharine smile and shining eyes, like he was waiting for a reaction. Boy, did he get one. Somehow with his predictable flirtations, he still managed to make her blush and fluster. Even now, she felt her face warm at the fond nickname.

“You’ll get over it, Gojo,” She muses in response, letting her eyes fall shut. “Hey…” She starts to speak again, but trails off, and her eyes are still closed when he looks over at her to give her his attention.

“Hm?”

“Do you think… he misses his dad?”

The question hangs between them for a minute. (y/n) gnaws on her cheek as her eyes glaze over, getting lost in her messy trains of thoughts that were all beginning to collide. It was no secret that Megumi held a resentment towards his father, more so than his sister, but (y/n) couldn’t help but wonder if a part of him, the part that was growing up, was starting to feel hurt by the space Fushiguro Toji had left behind.

“He might,” Satoru answers honestly, quietly. (y/n’s) brows fall as her lips tug into a frown. Of all the things she could fix, all the questions she could answer, that was one thing she had no control over. “It’s probably complicated. He might not think he does, you know?”

(y/n) nods absentmindedly, her teeth digging into her bottom lip now as she worries for the young boy.

What was she supposed to do? All the love and support in the world wouldn’t make up for the man that was supposed to look out for them walking out. His mother was one thing, he couldn’t even remember her. But he had a face to his father’s name. He had memories. Maybe even love that he’d buried. The thought makes her stomach twist with guilt.

“I barely remember my parents,” She whispers, and despite the fact that she’s staring at the ceiling with a hardened, fixed gaze, Satoru turns to her when she says this. “They’re not gone… but they may as well be. After I was enrolled at Jujutsu Tech…”

She didn’t need to explain any further. Satoru already knew the heartbreak she’d gone through as a young child, having non-sorcerers for parents that looked down upon jujutsu society. She’d shared her story with him once, when they were no older than fifteen, and Satoru was certain he’d never shake a single detail out of his memory. She held the same look in her eye now that she did back then as she recalled how she’d been shunned for not following a more ‘honorable’ path.

It wasn’t often she thought of her family- she hardly considered those people family anyways- but now they cross her mind as she empathizes with Megumi.

“It’s not the same, I know,” She sighs, shaking her head as though to erase their faces like an etch-a-sketch. Even after all these years, she hasn’t quite forgotten them. “But… losing family at a young age sticks with you,”

Finally, she turns her head to one side, meeting his watchful stare.

“Whether you want it to or not”

Satoru frowned.

“Missing people is hard like that,” He sighs.

Neither one of them have the strength to talk about him though, so he glides over the topic and brings their focus back to Megumi.

“But he’s still a little kid. You give him a lot of credit for being so mature, it’s spooky, but he’s going to process things like a little kid,” He reminds her. “You’re not doing anything wrong. Neither is he. He’s just…”

“Processing” (y/n) mumbles softly.

He nods back at her, bringing his elbow to the top of the couch so he could prop his head in his hand.

“Have you ever…” Satoru trails off, deciding mid sentence if it was a good idea to ask her this question. She waits patiently for him to continue, in need of any kind of advice on the situation. “Have you ever thought about opening up to him? You know like… relating to him?”

She blinks, but the rest of her expression doesn’t change. Not a single movement. Satoru thinks he might have suggested the wrong thing, but before he can take it back, she gives him a small smile.

“You know, that’s actually not a bad idea,” She hums, and she can see he’s shocked that she thought so. “You’re almost getting decent at this parenting thing”

He chuckles, dropping his hand from his head to stretch his arm across the length of the couch, beckoning her to come closer. She huffs in defiance, but doesn’t have any further protest as she slides closer to him, until their legs are pressed together and her head leans into his shoulder.

“I’m learning from the best” He chuckles like it’s a tease, but his words couldn’t have been more genuine.

It took some time for (y/n) to approach the subject with the boy.

But it was one night while they were walking home late together that just felt like the right time. It was just the two of them, (y/n) had brought him to a secluded place in the woods they found where it was safe for him to practice summoning his shikigami, while Satoru stayed at the apartment with Tsumiki.

It was late, the sun had gone down an hour ago, and the streets had cleared enough to give them a bit of privacy as they made their way back to the apartment.

So she figured, here goes nothing.

“Has something been bothering you, Megumi?”

At first he drops his head, staring down at the sidewalk as he mulled over the question. If (y/n) focused enough, she could see the gears in his head turning, weighing his options, the pros and cons, thinking through the possibilities of where this conversation could go. Had she not been worried about him, she might have giggled at how cutely the eight year old processed any question asked of him.

“You don’t need me to remind you that you can tell me anything,” She tells him honestly, glancing up at the stars beginning to shine through the night sky. “You’re allowed to be upset about things, you know”

“I know” He finally mumbles out, kicking a stray pebble in his path.

On uneven edges, it rolls awkwardly onto (y/n’s) side of the path. She gently kicks it back to his side. They play this little game in silence for a few minutes, until Megumi kicks it with too much enthusiasm and it’s sent into the storm drain. Teasingly, (y/n) tells him she’s won.

“I feel bad for being upset”

She looks down at him upon this confession, tilting her head curiously, wondering what it could be that he’s been carrying that’s making him feel so lost.

“That happens sometimes,” She treads lightly. “As long as you know that you shouldn’t. You can’t help what you feel, you know”

Megumi sighs, his shoulders slumping forward with a restlessness he was far too young to feel.

“I guess,” He replies, because he knows she’s right. Still, it was hard to be comforted when there was a loom of guilt hanging over his head like a storm cloud. “I don’t think I like love”

(y/n) hums as she takes in the statement. It was heavier than he’d realized, and it took her a minute to really think about it, about what he must be feeling. She had a sneaking suspicion that this was about his father, after all.

“Love is complicated, isn’t it,” She sighs, and it’s not a question, moreso a statement of fact. Megumi doesn’t say anything. “The world will tell you it’s unconditional. When in fact… people don’t work like that, do they?”

He looks up at her, his eyes round with shock, like she’d told him a great secret that he shouldn’t have been allowed to hear. Santa isn’t real, or this is all a simulation.

“Individual people are so different, and they’re meant to be, aren’t they?” This time she waits for his response, but Megumi can only muster up a nod. She takes it. “Everyone has their standards, their conditions. Even you, right?”

“I don’t like it when people are mean for no reason” Megumi comments, and (y/n) smiles as she nods at him, affirming that he understood what she was saying.

“Exactly,” She muses. “It’s just… some people’s conditions… well, they’re unreachable. Impossible. Sometimes they’re outright dumb”

Honestly, Megumi’s not sure where this little rant is coming from, but he finds himself hanging onto her every word anyways. It intrigued him, the way she described love. He’d never heard someone speak about it with such… distaste.

Usually adults tried to tell him that love is the ultimate happiness. Romantic love, familial love, platonic love, whatever it may be. He was always reminded that love was powerful, beautiful, transcendent. To hear (y/n) speak of it now like it was a trick to be wary of was confusing to him, but he was intent on learning more.

“I’ve never talked to you about my family, have I?” She asks, and again, it’s less of a question, and more of a prompt, a catch for him to realize that no, she’d never mentioned anything about a family. She only ever spoke of her classmates and colleagues at Jujutsu Tech.

Megumi shakes his head, feeling his guilt hovering over his head again as he realizes he’d never even thought to ask about the subject.

“Well, there’s a reason,” (y/n) says, easing some of his anxiety. “They had conditions to their love. Ones that I couldn’t meet. Or, refused to, is more like it”

“Really?” Megumi’s eyes widened with surprise.

“Yep,” She affirmed. “They didn’t want me to be a jujutsu sorcerer”

Now he looked like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. His mouth dropped open and his eyes grew impossibly bigger.

“Why?”

“They weren’t gifted like you and me,” She explains. “They were non-sorcerers, had never even heard of jujutsu society. So you can imagine their surprise when their kid started teleporting all around the house. I was a handful, you know,”

Megumi lets out a little giggle at the idea, and (y/n) smiles warmly that he’s starting to break down the walls he’d been building up around him in his seclusion.

“I was no older than you when my cursed technique manifested,” She tells him. “And it wasn’t long until someone from the school found me”

“Just like you came to us?” Megumi asked.

(y/n) tilted her head from side to side.

“It was a bit different,” She admitted. “They wanted to enroll me at the school, train me to properly hone my technique, teach me about the real world of jujutsu, it was a big ask. A big change”

“But your parents didn’t want you to go?” Megumi’s brows furrowed.

(y/n) nodded down at him.

“They forbid it”

The boy shook his head, trying to understand, but he was struggling, too puzzled by this story.

“But, why?” He asked. “Jujutsu sorcerers are good! You have cool powers- that- that can help people,” He looked up at her with his face contorted by his confusion. “Why didn’t they understand?”

(y/n) gives him a sad smile. She’d asked herself that same question for years after she’d left her home in pursuit of something greater than it, greater than her.

She looks forward as they continue their walk, not too far from the apartment building now.

“They were so worried about losing their kid, that they didn’t think about the damage they’d do by keeping them from following their passion,” She told him the truth, as harsh as it sounded. “And they ended up losing me anyways”

It’s quiet for a few beats, until Megumi let out a soft, “Oh”

“Megumi,” (y/n) calls, reaching down for his hand.

He lets her grasp onto it. They stop in their tracks, and he turns to face her. She still has that small, sad smile on her face. He recognizes this smile. She wears it when she’s trying to make him feel better, when she’s trying to convince someone, or herself, that things are alright. He’s seen this smile so many times now that he wishes she would just frown, but he knows she won’t. He knows that until the day she leaves this earth she’s going to be the strong one, the one that protects them, no matter the cost. He’d learned this shortly after meeting her, but he didn’t come to really understand it until the day he was almost taken away from her, and from his sister.

Megumi is a child. And while (y/n) had grown older in age, and quite a bit in maturity, she really wasn’t that much older than him, in the grand scheme of things. She’d given up more than just a summer vacation after graduating in order to take in him and his sister. She’d never talk about it, but Megumi has picked up on the fact that if she wasn’t so busy playing caretaker, then she would have been able to pursue more of her real passion, exorcizing curses. Sure, she still took plenty of assignments, but it was hard to take the big ones overseas, or the higher grade curses, because she couldn’t leave the two of them alone for too long.

(y/n) crouches before him now, his hand still in hers, and that melancholic smile still present on her lips.

“I believe that your dad loved you, so, so much,”

His brows furrowed together. My dad? He thought to himself, as if the words didn’t translate to his language, as if he couldn’t quite remember what they meant, or who they referred to.

“I believe that he did the things he did because he wanted to do what he could for you. I know it doesn’t make sense now… and honestly it might never make sense. But I think he was trying to do right by you both he just…”��

She trails off, and for a split second, that false smile falters, and falls into a sad expression that he’d rarely gotten to see on her. Something snags in Megumi’s chest, an uneven beat of his heart, a pain in his ribs he wasn’t familiar with.

“He just didn’t know how,” She finishes softly, and just as quickly she’s crafting her face to be gentle and comforting again. “But I’m sorry that he’s not here”

Megumi tilts his head at her curiously, trying to speculate on what it was to make her say these things to him.

“That’s okay,” He says in a tone that has (y/n) feeling a bit confused too. Her hand loosens around his, and he pulls away, about to continue their walk. She quickly stands to walk beside him. “I don’t really think about him anyways”

“You don’t?” She asks. Megumi shakes his head.

“No, he doesn’t really matter, does he?”

Wow, (y/n) thinks. What an emotionally mature child. But if it wasn’t his absent-now-dead father bugging him, what had been on his mind?

“Hey (y/n),” Megumi calls before she can ask him her question, and she gives him her attention. “What are your conditions?”

“My conditions?” She repeats, although she knows what he means.

“Yeah” Megumi replies in a small voice.

“Silly kid,” She giggles and ruffles his hair, much to his annoyance, but he doesn’t swat her hand away, just glares at her as he fixes the messy raven locks. “I’m the exception to the rule of course. I have no conditions when it comes to loving you two”

“Corny,” He mutters with fake malice. “But what about Gojo, then?”

With a raised brow, (y/n) looks down at the boy, waiting for him to complete the question. Megumi just stared up at her expectantly, his head cocked towards one shoulder.

“What about Gojo?” She repeats with a tilted inflection, wondering what he was getting at.

Megumi huffs with more annoyance than she could’ve thought his little body was capable of holding.

“Well, don’t you love each other?” He asks, exasperated, like he’d been holding onto this fact for too long, like it was heavy, and he was tired of lugging it around. “Isn’t that why he’s around all the time? Isn’t that why he never leaves anymore?”

(y/n’s) lips part in surprise, ready to say something, anything to deflect, or excuse, but she can’t think of a decent enough argument, and she finds herself remaining in silence as they approach their building.

“He’s so obnoxious,” Megumi continues, and (y/n) watches him with a strange curiosity as he goes on to speak. “He’s loud. And annoying. And too touchy,”

She chuckles fondly to herself, as she couldn’t help but agree with all of Megumi’s grievances with the man. Of course these were all traits she’d found some way to appreciate.

He was loud, but he spoke up for others, and had he not done so on her behalf, she might not be here with Megumi now. He was annoying, but he made it known that he enjoyed spending time around her, and he’d remember all of the things she said she liked or disliked. He was touchy, but it was just the way he showed affection, every touch, whether it be to hug her goodbye, to pull her to sit closer to him, to comb her hair with his fingers so she could fall asleep peacefully, it all just meant that he cared.

Thinking about it now, her face began to heat up, and her heart began to beat erratically in her chest. Had Megumi figured it out for her? Had she really grown to love all of those things?

“He doesn’t ever stop talking about you,” Megumi goes on, drawing her out of her thoughts and back to his rant. “Especially when you’re not around. He just goes on and on. About high school, about how cool you are, how pretty you are, how strong you are,”

Despite his irritation, Megumi’s cheeks begin to burn too, a little embarrassed to be passing this information on.

“And when he makes my lunches, even his notes are about you. And they’re stupid. But he’s stupid,” He rolls his eyes between complaints.

(y/n) thinks back to the little post-it she’d snagged from his lunch box a few months ago. There had been others? She was curious now about what they said. Did he do it every time he made their lunch?

“And Shoko said you were in love once,”

Her attention returns to the boy again, eyes round and lips still parted, still waiting to say something that wasn’t coming to mind. Shoko said that?

“Are you not anymore?”

He looks up at her just as they approach the front doors to their building. (y/n) swallows the lump in her throat as she pushes it open, letting him inside first. The warm air in the lobby is welcoming, and she pops open the buttons to the light jacket she’d worn to help keep warm during the chilly fall night.

Megumi was still staring at her as they made their way through the lobby to wait for the elevator. She knows he was expecting an answer, a real one, but truth be told, (y/n) wasn’t sure what the answer even was.

“We were young,” She sighs out eventually, shaking her head as she struggles to come up with the rest. “Did we have feelings for each other? Maybe, but I don’t know about love. We were close friends. Still are”

She thinks this is a good answer. It’s the truth, and it’s enough of an explanation to quell Megumi’s curiosities. She thought wrong.

“Well, what about now?” He asks, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets.

“You’re nosey tonight,” (y/n) chuckles, trying to nonchalantly brush him off and leave their conversation at that. But Megumi continues to stare at her with furrowed brows. “What?” She laughs nervously at him, raising her hands in mock defense. “What more is there to say?”

“Shoko said you were in love,” He deadpans, and (y/n) makes a mental note to cuss out her friend for gossiping with literal children about her love life- or more accurately, lack thereof. “So what was the condition that you don’t anymore?”

“I never said I didn’t-”

“So you do?”

They stare at each other in silence.

There’s a ding! And the elevator doors before them slide open.

(y/n) ushers Megumi in without a word, and he excitedly pushes the button for their floor. (y/n) crosses her arms as the doors close again. Her foot taps anxiously on the floor.

“Is this why you’ve been upset lately?” She finally speaks as the elevator begins to move. Megumi looks up at her, but her eyes remain focused on the changing numbers on the panel as they pass each floor. “Satoru’s been around more and you don’t like him?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like him,” Megumi mutters, annoyed at having to admit such a thing. (y/n) lets out a small chuckle. “He’s just annoying. I don’t know why you do,” He explains. “You’re cooler than him” He adds in a smaller, more bashful voice.

“Can’t argue there,” (y/n) hums in amusement, smiling down at him fondly. “But you don’t have anything to worry about, ‘gumi,” She says, and seeing as he’s trapped in the small space, when she reaches down and snatches him up with the excitement of finding a stray toad on her path- he can’t do anything but squeal and thrash his arms in protest. “You’re the only one for me, Fushiguro Megumi!” She cheers in a loud, lovesick manner.

The elevator doors open, allowing anyone on their floor to hear the boy’s screams of torture and giggles of delight when (y/n) tosses him over her shoulder to tickle him relentlessly.

“(y/n)!” He screams her name in choked up pleas of mercy. “Stoooop!”

His hollers fell on deaf ears as (y/n) cackled the whole way to the door. She didn’t let up until she had to fish for the keys in her pocket. Megumi huffed, hanging limply over her back, panting as he caught his breath, his laughter finally dying down.

“You’re a jerk” He muttered in defeat.

(y/n) cackled as she got the door open, and Megumi’s body was practically swinging behind her back as she hauled him inside.

Much to the delight of Satoru and Tsumiki, who had been sitting at the kitchen table, having a little spa day.

So while they were laughing at Megumi’s distress, (y/n) was laughing at the sight of Satoru with a big fluffy pink headband, the one Tsumiki used for the couple of times that (y/n) would let her do face masks with her.

His hair stuck out in every direction under the big bow on top, and there was a green substance smeared all over his face that (y/n) could only hope was from the rejuvenating face mask tube that she kept with her things in the bathroom. And better than that- Tsumiki was halfway through painting his names. He had one hand flat on the table, the polish still drying, while the ten year old held his other hand to carefully apply the color.

“Oh my god,” (y/n) couldn’t help the string of giggles that escaped her, and she finally set Megumi back on the ground so that he could also appreaciate the entertainment. “You girls have a nice day to yourselves?”

“Yeah!” Tsumiki cheered. “We watched a romance anime and Gojo’s letting me paint his nails and we were talking about boys and we’re doing face masks!”

(y/n’s) still laughing as she kicks off her shoes, before neatly setting them on the small rack by the door with the other smaller pairs of shoes. She shrugs off her coat and drapes it over the couch before making her way further into the room so she could see what color Tsumiki had chosen for Satoru’s manicure.

“She said we were doing facemasks,” Satoru deadpans as (y/n) peers over the girl’s shoulder. “But she chickened out”

“Did not!” Tsumiki argued. “I just only have one headband. I didn’t want to get any in my hair”

(y/n) continues to giggle when she finally gets a look at Satoru’s hands. Tsumiki had all of her polishes on the table, so each finger was a different color. Mostly variations of pink and purple, but there was one green and one blue in there too. When she meets his gaze, he’s silently pleading with her, but her mouth twists into a grin that tells him she was not here to bring him to a merciful end.

“Very good job you’ve done here, Tsumiki,” She praises the girl instead. “Satoru has never looked prettier!”

He should’ve rolled his eyes and quipped back some sarcastic remark, but Tsumiki was finally painting his last fingernail and it would all be over soon. So instead he grins from ear to ear, taking her half-insult as a compliment.

“Why thank you, (y/n/n). Finally, I’m appreciated for my beauty”

(y/n’s) the one who rolls her eyes.

Once Tsumiki applies the last stroke of glittery pink polish on Satoru’s pinky nail, (y/n) tasks her with cleaning up the mess on the table. It appears she’d been ready to give the man a full makeover, looking at all the makeup, nail polish, and hair supplies littered over the surface.

“Come on pretty girl, I’ll get the mask cleaned off your face,” (y/n) beckons for Satoru to follow her towards the bathroom. “We can’t have you ruining your pretty manicure” She snickers as the pair disappear down the hall.

Megumi helped his sister gather her things back into the boxes she kept them neatly organized in.

“How did it go with your dogs?” She asked curiously.

“Good,” He answers. “(y/n) is in love with Gojo”

His sister stares back at him with wide eyes, and a slow grin creeping over her face.

Meanwhile, (y/n) is sitting Satoru down on the lid of the toilet while the sink water runs until it’s warm enough that it won’t be a shock to his skin. Once it’s ready, she wets a corner of a washcloth and carefully begins to wipe off the creamy face mask.

“I can’t believe you let her do this” She murmurs, bringing the rag back under the running water to rinse away the excess paste.

“(y/n), as a dear friend, I need you to be honest with me,” He says, and her eyes lock on his, her hand stalling in it’s ministrations, holding the rag to his brow as she gives him her undivided attention. His expression looks grave. “Is this going to absolutely fuck up my pores?”

His eyes are wide like he’s never been more afraid of anything in his life, and (y/n) can’t help but burst into laughter as she goes back to cleaning away the cream on his forehead.

“Well, it shouldn’t,” She says, and Satoru visibly relaxes. “But I don’t know what she was thinking putting so much on your face”

“Maybe she just wanted to be close because I’m so devilishly handsome” He smirks up at her, and she lets out another laugh, turning back to the sink again to rinse the rag.

“I think she just wanted to play dress up with you” (y/n) mused.

“I think she just wanted to have girl talk,” Satoru replied. “Which apparently I’m quite good at. If you’re ever interested”

Another giggle escapes her as she gets to work cleaning away the cream on his cheek, being careful as she drags the rag slowly under his eye. She’s focused on her work, but Satoru can’t draw his attention away from her. He couldn’t remember the last time she stood so close to him, and right now her face hovered just a few inches away from his.

It was hard to keep his hands firmly planted on his knees, and not hold her by the waist and draw her into the space between them. But then he’d ruin his manicure.

“I didn’t realize she was getting so interested in boys,” She hums thoughtfully. “Any juicy details?”

“Not really,” Satoru shrugs. “I told her to start playing hard to get if she really wants to get someone’s attention. She said she didn’t want their attention. She just likes making friends with the cute boys in her class”

(y/n) laughs softly and shakes her head, but she can’t help but smile proudly to herself.

“That’s my girl,” She praises, even though Tsumiki wasn’t present. “She doesn’t need boys right now. She’s doing great in her classes”

Satoru shrugs a shoulder.

“You enjoy girl talk, hm?” She asks.

Admittedly, she could have cleaned his face of all this face mask cream by now, but she couldn’t help her slow movements. The longer she dragged this on, the longer she could stand right in front of him and stare at his pretty features. Her conversation with Megumi was still on the front of her mind, and while she’d brushed off the boy’s questions about her feelings minutes ago, standing before Satoru now, she wasn’t so sure she could deny them.

She’d known for a long time that she harbored strong feelings for him. While at first she’d squashed them down because she refused to admit she’d fallen for an arrogant fool like him, over time, she’d come to understand him better, and soon he’d become one of the greatest people she’s ever known, and she wasn’t so sure she’d ever meet anyone like him again.

But things got messy. She got involved with the Fushiguro’s, [redacted] defected, and now that they’ve graduated and are trying to lead their own lives, it just got too complicated.

It didn’t help that when he’d tried to take things to a more than platonic level, she’d shot it down as soon as things got tricky. As soon as he got called into an assignment the night they were going to go out, she’d closed herself back up, rebuilt the wall around her, and told him it was never going to work, so they may as well never try.

She’d done the right thing, right?

Trying not to stare too long at him now, she wasn’t so sure.

“Oh, I quite love girl talk,” Satoru grinned. “No wonder you and Shoko always snuck off. Hey, you ever talk about me?” His grin turns into a smirk as his bright eyes try to catch hers. She pretends to be too focused on clearing the green goop off his nose.

“Only when I needed to complain,” She muses affectionately. “I’m sorry to say most of our gossip involved Ijichi”

“That kid that’s a manager?” He asked with a furrowed brow. “That’s your type?”

He sounded annoyed, and confused. (y/n) chuckled, turning back towards the sink for another rinse.

“No,” She shakes her head, and Satoru readjusts his posture, sitting up a little straighter with his confidence returned. “But he was always smitten with Shoko. I think eventually he was so into her she couldn’t help but take an interest in him, too,”

Satoru nods, pursing his lips as he thinks back on it. There were a few times that she’d blown off plans to twirl her hair at the younger boy. He’d always thought she was just messing with him, now he wonders if anything ever came of it.

“I think they hooked up a couple times,” (y/n) indulged in a quieter voice, her eyes meeting his with a curious excitement he hadn’t seen in a while. “She never admitted it. But I’ve seen the hickeys. That’s all I’m saying”

Satoru laughed with delight. He really did enjoy girl talk. He also enjoyed seeing (y/n) this happy.

“Well geez. I guess I’ll have to hit her up on that. What’s she got on you, huh?”

Her brows pinched together as a scoff of a laugh escapes her, her lips stretching into an awkward smile. Her eyes meet his and they’re prodding, eager to hear more of this juicy content.

(y/n) shakes her head as more nervous laughter bubbles up.

“Afraid you’ll be rather bored, ‘toru” She hummed, going back to scrubbing the cream off of his other cheek.

“What, no time for boys?” He leans forward, making her stall in her movements, and bringing her gaze back to his. Her eyes flicker between his for a moment, trying to figure out why he was asking this of her now. He knows the answer to this question. Why was he even asking it?

Her head tilts at him in a small movement as she thinks through her answer, her eyes never leaving his.

“That’s private” She murmurs, just to gauge his reaction.

It was a pleasant one indeed. Only because she got an up close look was she able to see the twitch in his brow, the slow locking of his jaw before quickly relaxing it. So the notion that she did have something to tell bothered him. Interesting.

“So you have a little time for boys, then?” He asks, and the grin that stretches on his lips is anything but eager. It’s counterfeit. And almost poisonous.

“Why the sudden interest?” She hums, straightening her posture and going back to cleaning his face.

“Why the sudden need for privacy?” He asks, leaning forward again, seeing as she’d tried to put a few inches of distance between them. Her eyes briefly catch his, but she’s quick to return her focus. “I thought we said no more secrets”

A humorless laugh escapes her throat as she shakes her head at him.

“Satoru, how many times are you going to assume I’m hooking up with someone when I’m not?” She asks, only half-teasing.

“Hey, that’s not all on me, you were the one sneaking around in the middle of the night! A bootycall was the only logical answer”

“Except it wasn’t, and it isn’t” (y/n) reminds him.

“I’m still not totally convinced” He grumbles, rolling his eyes away from hers as he mulled over the scraps of evidence in his head.

“I can’t tell if you’re being nosey or completely jealous” She muses.

“Can’t a guy be more than one thing?” His eyes are on hers again in an instant as he grins up at her, this time with his usual charm that he tried to pull.

“Sure you can,” She grins back at him. “And you’re predictable”

His grin falls, but not completely. His lips are still curled into a soft smile as he stares up at her. It’s quiet for a moment, and there’s still some green mask left on his chin, but it’s momentarily forgotten as she gets lost in his stare.

She supposes she’d get jealous, too, if he started talking about seeing someone else. Someone else, she thinks to herself, a small crease forming between her brows. And that wasn’t fair of her to think, was it? He wasn’t hers, she’d made sure of that herself. But fuck, if the idea didn’t make something nasty twist in her gut.

“I’m not seeing anyone,” She blurts out, as if it wasn’t already clear to him that this was the case. “If that’s what you’re getting at. I don’t know why, you know I-”

She stops herself before something she doesn’t want to say out loud. He tilts his chin at her, curious to hear the rest of what she was going to say, but judging by the way she presses her lips together in a small smile, he gets the feeling that she’s swallowed her words.

Silently, she wipes the last patch of green cream off of his chin, and turns around to rinse the wash cloth thoroughly. After working out all of the mask from the cloth, she rings it out and drapes it over one of the towel bars to properly dry. When she turns back to Satoru, he’s raising his hands to pull the headband off.

“Wait,” Her voice is soft but it still stops him as she reaches out towards him. “I’ll get it,” She tells him as she loops her fingers through the fluffy band. “I was serious about not messing up your nails”

A small giggle escapes her as she slides the headband off, letting his hair fall around his ears and over his forehead.

“I appreciate that you care about my manicure” He half-teases.

Absent-mindedly, she brings her fingers bag to his hair, sweeping a few loose strands away from his eyes. She doesn’t even realize what she’s done until her eyes meet his, and suddenly she’s retracting her hand and staring back at him with wide eyes.

“I- sorry-”

“Don’t be,” Satoru smiles at her as he stands from the seat, stretching his tired limbs after sitting there for the last fifteen or so minutes. “You want help making dinner tonight?”

Just like that he’s strolling out of the bathroom with her in tow, telling her all of the ideas of things he wants to learn to cook. A lot of his list is baked sweets, but she listens to him ramble on anyways. It’s a good distraction for her to calm her racing heart. _

It’s a horrendously chilly day in december when paths cross that (y/n) would have never expected.

She, Satoru, Shoko, and the Fushiguro kids had been out for the day. It had started with a breakfast that they’d tried to make happen weekly, but had quickly turned into strolling around the shops in Tokyo so the kids could make their christmas wish lists. This of course was more or less a grocery list of things that Satoru was bound to buy as soon as he received this list, but it was fun for everyone nonetheless.

They’d just walked out of a pet shop, despite (y/n) making it clear that there would be no pets for christmas, claiming Megumi’s dogs were enough. She was reminding Tsumiki- and Satoru- of that fact as they walked out.

“What do you need a hamster for? Isn’t Megumi feisty enough?” She’d laughed as she’d pulled her hat over her head to keep her ears safe from the nippy cold breeze. Megumi gives his sister a wide grin, maybe out of pride, even.

“Because they’re so small and cute and fluffy-”

“Not helping, Satoru,” She swatted at his arm to stop him from getting Tsumiki’s hopes up, before turning her attention to the girl. “We’re not getting a hamster”

Just as Tsumiki’s pouty face was almost starting to work, (y/n) catches sight of an old familiar face, and her attention is quickly ripped away from the present as a beam stretches over her mouth.

“Nanami!”

He’s across the street, so she has to jog to get to him and catch his attention, leaving everyone else without much more of an explanation.

“Been awhile since I’ve seen Nanamin,” Shoko’s the first to speak, as the rest of them are staring at (y/n) as she catches up with the blonde man. Megumi and Tsumiki watch on with surprise, and a little confusion. While Satoru’s eyes narrow into a glare behind his shades. “He looks… good”

This turned his glare towards the woman, who pursed her lips and shrugged a shoulder. “What?” She asked innocently. “The haircut suits him”

When Nanami Kento finally hears his name and sees (y/n) making her way to him, he lights up. Recognition turns to delight as she approaches him, and when her arms open wide, he steps closer so that she can throw them around his neck and hug him like he was an old friend, and not just a past acquaintance that had shared trauma.

“Don’t remember them being so close” Satoru huffs, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his coat so that no one could see the way they ball into tight fists.

Hearing the odd seriousness in the usually overly-cheery man’s tone had Megumi looking up at Satoru out of curiosity. He wore a grimace, even with the shades covering his face, it was perfectly clear. When the boy glanced back towards where (y/n) was animatedly talking with the man he sort of recognized, an idea brewed in his head.

Tugging on the puffy sleeve of Tsumiki’s coat, Megumi gave her a look, making her follow his line of sight from Satoru’s evil eye, to where (y/n) and her supposed friend from high school were reconnecting. Tsumiki looked back and forth a few more times, noting how Gojo’s brow furrowed particularly harder as (y/n) grabbed the man’s arm and began to lead him back towards them.

As Nanami and (y/n) grow nearer, Satoru does his best to relax his features, but with the way she’s talking to him so enthusiastically, smiling and gesturing with her hands, he can’t help but have some intrigue.

Questions like when the hell did they get so buddy-buddy? And since when did Nanamin know how to smile? Flooded his mind. He was dying to know what it was that you were talking about that had you both looking so… engaged.

“Your jealousy’s showing,” Shoko snickered, knocking her elbow into Satoru’s. He sent her a half-playful scowl, which only made her grin in amusement. “And here I thought you grew out of that?” She teased.

Meanwhile, and as oblivious as ever, (y/n) had been filling Nanami in on all of the excitement she’d endured since graduating. He congratulated her, and asked all of the appropriate questions about the kids and the beginning of her career as a jujutsu sorcerer.

“You have to come properly meet the kids,” She’d told him, gesturing back to where the oddball looking group stood outside of the pet shop.

Nanami glanced over, briefly catching Gojo’s nasty gaze before he smoothed it out into something more friendly. It didn’t look remotely authentic, but it didn’t help that Shoko was cackling and knocking her arm against his, as though calling him out for his behavior. He supposed some things would never change.

(y/n) was linking her arm through his and walking with him back towards everyone before Nanami could find a way to politely decline the offer. It was nothing against the Fushiguro kids, (y/n) made them out to be pleasant little angels, but he had a feeling that Gojo wouldn’t be too keen on her inviting him over. Especially not arm in arm.

“So you and Six Eyes finally made it work, huh?” The blonde asked, semi bitterly, semi curiously.

(y/n) ducked her head to hide the blush dusting over her cheeks. Although she supposed it was cold enough outside she could play it off as a chill, she had a feeling Nanami would see through the lie.

“Uh, not exactly. I mean- not like you mean, anyways. He helps with the kids a lot” She stammers over her explanation, not knowing the proper way to define their relationship. Friend seemed too informal and broad to describe what they shared. Partner was… well, there was a certain connotation there, wasn’t there? Rather than try to find a label for it, she decides instead to shut her mouth.

Nanami chuckled.

Some things really would never change.

“Still got him to settle down though, hm?” Nanami hums, watching as Gojo ruffles up the hair of the little boy, who then proceeds to turn around and growl at him, smacking at his hand.

This was (y/n’s) little angel? Nanami wondered as the two began to bicker like they were both children. He couldn’t hear what they were arguing about, but from what he could see, he had a feeling the boy was in the right.

“So he’s… good with the kids?” Nanami asks, and the pair watch as Satoru’s solution to end the bickering was to lift up the kid by his ankle, dangling him in the air.

(y/n’s) eyes momentarily widen, and she jolts as if she’s going to run at the two- probably to scold Satoru and cradle Megumi in her arms like he was younger than he was- but she just as quickly relaxes as Satoru plops the boy on his shoulders. Megumi is still scowling, but appears to relax and let's Satoru hold him by the ankles while he sits. (y/n) makes a mental note to take a picture of them later when they’re not paying attention.

“Sometimes,” She finally answers Nanami’s question. “Tsumiki loves him. Megumi won’t admit it… but I know he likes him more than he lets on”

“So you’ll raise kids together, but you won’t put a label on things?” Nanami chuckles.

She looks over at him with a half smile and a raised brow.

“You sure care a lot about my love life, Nanamin~” She points out. “So what is it? You got a special someone that’s got love on your mind?”

He laughs again, not because she’s right, but because it was so like her to deflect like her life depended on it. She had gotten better at it since the last time he’d seen her, too.

When they do approach the rest of her group, Satoru’s line of sight is firmly set on the place where (y/n’s) elbow is hooked around Nanami’s, and it stays there while she introduces the kids to him. He doesn’t look up, or even force a polite smile, until Shoko is stepping forward and making them split up as she hugs Nanami.

Then, and only once (y/n) stepped closer to Satoru, putting some distance between her and the ex-sorcerer, does he relax. Megumi groans and kicks his feet out of Satoru’s hold, annoyed by the way he’d gripped his legs. During the pleasant small talk (y/n) and Shoko makes with the man, Satoru remains silent. Behind his shades his eyes are piercing and although Nanami can’t quite see it, he certainly feels it. It’s a bit unsettling, but just like in high school, it was more irritating than anything else.

Despite barely speaking to him, before the blonde man goes to part ways, Satoru scribbles something down on a receipt he’d found in his pocket, and passes it off to him. Nanami’s surprised to see it’s a phone number.

“For if you ever want to get back out there,” Satoru said with a nod. Nanami blinks as he stares at the Six Eyes user, and then back at the receipt. “I’d get ya back on the field in a jiffy, no questions asked” He continued with a grin, before making a point to sling an arm over (y/n’s) shoulders. She stumbles as he pulls her against his side, caught off guard by the sudden affection, but she relaxes just as quickly, and doesn’t appear upset by the action at all.

“Thanks” Nanami settles with a small nod of his head. He doesn’t think he’d ever go back into the world of jujutsu sorcery, but the proposal was still a thoughtful one. Especially so when he thought he’d been on the man’s shit list for merely talking to (y/n).

They say their goodbyes and part ways with a weak promise of brunch sometime.

Shoko is dragging Tsumiki into the next boutique, saying something about hair accessories that should be on her wish list. Leaving (y/n) and Satoru to follow behind, with Megumi still perched on Satoru’s shoulders.

(y/n) tucks her hands into the pockets of her coat, stepping out from under his arm, but still walking closely by his side.

“You really think he’ll come back?” She asks after a beat passes, too curious about his thoughts to wait until another time to bring it up.

“I don’t know,” He answers honestly, shrugging his shoulders, although the movement is stiff and awkward with Megumi resting on them. He giggles a bit at the movement. “But he looked… bored, didn’t he?”

When he looks down at her to gauge her reaction, she gives him a small nod.

“Figured a change of pace would be good for him” Satoru finished.

“Maybe you can train him again (y/n),” Megumi pipes up. He leans over Satoru’s head, resting his arms across the white locks before setting his chin against the puffy sleeves of his coat to rest. “Like me”

She smiles up at him sweetly, and nods her head again. Truthfully, Nanami’s abilities nearly surpassed hers back in the day, but she had no problem with letting Megumi believe she was stronger than she was.

“Maybe then I’ll get good at teaching,” She said, eyes flickering down to Satoru, who beamed at the idea. “Jujutsu Tech always needs more teachers” She shrugs a shoulder at the thought.

But for now, she tables the idea, putting her focus back into entertaining the kids for the day. As long as they had a good holiday season, full of the spoiling and love they so deserved, she’d be content.

___

On the third day of February, Gojo Satoru shows up at the (y/l/n)-Fushiguro apartment like a madman that evening. He appears out of thin air in the living room, and his worried state only escalates when he finds the room empty. It’s late enough that without the lights, the room is dark, but early enough in the evening that there should have been some form of life in the apartment.

He’s quick to scour through the hallways. He finds Tsumiki asleep in her bed, and carefully closes the door behind him. When he turns to Megumi’s room, the boy is still awake, happily reading with the clip-on light on the cover of his book- a gift he’d gotten from (y/n) this past holiday. When the man practically barges into the room, he’s not as alarmed as he should be. Satoru appearing out of nowhere had become such a regular occurrence that it would be silly if he still flinched at his sudden presence.

“Sorry, kid, shoulda knocked,” Satoru apologizes sheepishly. “(y/n/n) here? She didn’t go on a mission, did she?”

It wouldn’t be like her to take on an assignment and leave the kids alone at the apartment. Then again, it wasn’t like her to ignore his texts and calls all day. Eight texts, three phone calls, to be exact.

She’d ignored Shoko’s, too. Hence is panic and instantaneous arrival at her residence.

Megumi shakes his head, tucking his bookmark into the page he’d been on before setting it down. He climbs out of bed wordlessly, and walks out of the room, leaving Satoru to follow after him.

He’s a little embarrassed when Megumi takes him towards (y/n’s) room, where her door has been left ajar. He points through the crack, before looking up at Satoru with a small frown.

“She’s been out there all night,” He says softly.

Satoru furrows his brows, before pushing open the door a little more so he could see for himself what Megumi meant. Sure enough, her bedroom was unlit, and the window on the furthest wall was slid open. The curtains surrounding it blow gently with the breeze that creeps into the room. He can just barely make out (y/n) sitting on the small patch of roof just outside of the window.

“Is she okay?” Megumi asks, his voice even smaller.

He’d never seen her the way she’d acted today. There had been a ghostly pale look on her face this morning, and then again when she’d picked up him and his sister from school. Most of the afternoon was spent focused on chores, and then preparing dinner. Any attempts made by him or his sister to get her to open up, or even smile, had failed.

And then, once dinner was finished and the dishes were done, she’d excused herself to her room. After two hours, Megumi and Tsumiki had peeked in to see if she was alright, only to find her sitting on the roof outside her window, alone.

Satoru lets out a sigh, his heart sinking as it finally clicks for him why she’d been so dodgy. He should’ve figured it out sooner, he realizes that now.

“She’ll be alright,” He answers Megumi, pulling the door shut to give her her privacy again, even though she didn’t seem to notice the onlooking presence behind her. “Come on, you should get to bed”

Megumi hesitates, wanting to know more, out of worry for his caretaker that worked so hard to make sure he was content and happy every day of his life. Now she was struggling and he felt helpless. But he was just a kid, what was he supposed to do?

“You’ll make sure?” He asks. It was the closest to asking the man for help that he’d ever gotten, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Satoru smiles, patting the kid on the head before pushing him gently back towards his room.

“Course I will,” He says, and it seems genuine, so Megumi complies and begins walking back to his door. “Sweet dreams ‘gumi”

“Goodnight” Megumi calls, rather than roll his eyes like he wants to. Well, at least he waits until he’s in his closed room to do so.

Once he’s out of sight and presumably settling back into bed, Satoru opens the door he’s lingered by and slips into the room quickly. Even as he climbs out of the window- which was a great struggle because it was a small opening and he was all limbs- (y/n’s) attention remains on the sky.

She has her knees pulled to her chest, and now he’s close enough that he can smell the cigarette held between her fingers.

“Thought you quit” He hums as she crawls awkwardly to where she’s sitting.

(y/n) doesn’t flinch at his presence. He wonders how long she’d realized he was there. She doesn’t look at him, either, much to his dismay. She’s still focused on the stars, as though they’d been in the midst of an important conversation.

“Yeah, well,” Her voice is a murmur as she brings the cig to her lips, taking a short drag. After filling her lungs she exhales, sighing for longer than she had smoke to disseminate. “Guess I couldn’t help it today”

Satoru nods in understanding, his attention catching on a small plate beside her. The tiniest of smiles quirks on the corner of his lips as he sees a lone cupcake sitting on it. It looks positively delicious, thick vanilla cake wrapped in a colorful paper, topped with a generous amount of frosting, curled over itself in a perfect mountain, and then covered in rainbow sprinkles.

If this was any other cupcake, on any other day, he’d be pushing her off this roof right now just to steal a bite of it.

But this cupcake wasn’t meant for him.

“I know you’re going to worry,” (y/n’s) speaking again, and his eyes drift away from the ominous treat and back to her, even though she’s still refusing to look at him. “But you don’t need to. You can go, if you want…” She trails off for a moment, taking in a shaky breath before finishing her thought. “If you need to grieve… in your own way”

Amidst the solemn memories that are flooding his mind of this day in past years, Satoru thinks it’s one of the kindest things she’s ever offered to him. Pushing him away so that he can process this day however he needs, rather than sit here and comfort her while she processes her way.

And it’s not that it’s easy for him, because it isn’t. He’d woken up today knowing exactly what day it was. And not just Friday. Today the weight of the world felt heavier on his shoulders than usual. His coffee, pumped full of cream and sugar, tasted bitter. The sun seemed to disappear behind a patch of clouds every time he stepped outside. The day dragged and dragged, and given the fact that (y/n) had ghosted him for the day hadn’t helped.

But he couldn’t exactly blame her. Because even he was a reminder to her. A reminder that their group of three had once been four. That when he’d met her all those years ago, he’d come as a matching set. His heart sank for her, knowing there was nothing he could do to ease her mind of pleasant memories now covered in a haze of darkness.

Guilt. Regret. Longing.

“No, sweetheart,” He murmurs to her, sliding himself over the shingles to be closer to her. Her hair is down, and it covers her side profile, so it’s still hard for him to see her, but for once he’s patient. “No, ‘m not goin’ anywhere”

It’s quiet for quite some time. (y/n) continues puffing on the cigarette until the taste turns sour in her mouth, and then she’s stumping it out on the shingles, only half smoked. Satoru hopes this means she really has quit the nasty habit, and tonight wasn’t a backslide on an old addiction, but instead a small escape towards nostalgia. While she fiddles with the dead cig in her fingers, he notes it was the brand that Shoko always picked up. The very brand that back in high school, she’d made smoke buddies out of (y/n), and Suguru too, smoking those exact cigarettes.

“D’you think he’s celebrating?”

Her voice catches in her throat, but she swallows the lump as soon as she voices her question.

No, Satoru thinks.

“Maybe,” He hums in response. “Probably not as hard as you did” He adds, trying to lighten the mood with the memory of her own twentieth birthday. (y/n) lets out a small sound that was meant to be a hum, but it sounds choked, like someone has a hand around her throat, strangling her pipes until she had no more voice left.

She stares at the cigarette in her fingers, her eyes hard, desperate to stay dry, but this leaves them without emotion.

“I didn’t think today would be this hard,” She admits. “I thought I…”

Satoru watches her carefully, his eyes darting from her hidden face to the cigarette that was trembling in her delicate hold. As if the day alone wasn’t hard enough, his heart breaks over her further. Being the strongest didn’t mean shit at this moment. There wasn’t a damn thing he could do to ease this pain for her, but fuck, if he could take it all away, and carry it for her himself, he would.

“I thought I’d already cried as much as I could over him,” Her words wobble, thanks to her burning throat and quivering lips. “But I… I just…”

She shakes her head, a humorless laugh escaping her throat in one harsh sob. It sounds exactly how she feels. Angry, forlorn, exasperated.

“Satoru,”

She turns to him, finally. The stumpy little cigarette falls from her shaking hands as she moves quickly. As if his heart wasn’t hurting enough, now he sees the tears streaming down her face.

How long had she been out here crying? He worries. How long had she been carrying this alone?

Before she can continue he’s surging forward. Both hands raising to her face in order to make quick work at drying her tears. It’s no use, they won’t stop flooding and he knows it too, but still, he wipes them away with diligent, loving thumbs.

“I can’t bear this,” She mumbles, watery eyes flickering between his.

It’s a damn vulnerable thing to admit, and maybe tomorrow she’ll regret this moment of fragile exposure, but right now all she feels is a weight on her chest, pressing harder and harder until it’s left a gaping wound, and she’s so desperate for relief from this pain that she brings her walls down. Even if it means she takes them down completely.

“It hurts too much,” She continues in a strained whimper. “I don’t want to miss him anymore, I don’t want to think about him anymore,”

Satoru’s brows fall to furrow together as she makes her pained confession, and if it wasn’t for the way she spoke, he could see it on her. In the way her body shook as she cried, her hurt seeped out of every orifice, until she was made nearly unrecognizable.

Since Geto Suguru’s defection, she’d done a bang up job keeping her feelings on the matter to herself. Minus the day he left them, she’d barely even spoken a word about it, and in fact, she hadn’t talked about him at all. Until this very moment. It appeared that she’d kept it packed up so deep inside that today was the last straw, the final blow to her unprocessed grief. Denial was a wonderful thing, but it could only do the trick for so long.

Satoru cradles her face with the gentleness of feathers on her skin. He doesn’t say a word, there’s not enough words in the world to bring an ounce of comfort to her now. Nothing could fix the situation, believe him, he’s tried to find the miracle cure. But this disease that was their shared trauma, their haunted past, was terminal.

So instead he sits quietly with her. He brushes away her tears with the pads of his thumbs, over and over again, and he’s bound to this very spot to continue to do so until it’s enough. Until he’s enough to carry all of her sorrow, all of her strife, and anything else.

Satoru’s throat begins to burn the longer he watches her fall apart at the seams before him. This wasn’t the first time he’s seen her at her lowest, he’d been there once or twice before to try to pick up her pieces, and hold her gently together until she feels whole again. But it doesn’t matter if he’d done this a thousand times before, it always feels unfamiliar, and it always wounds him.

He tries his hardest to push down the feeling, to be present as the strength that she needs of him. But tonight is different than the other times he’s calmed and comforted her.

A shaky exhale escapes him, and the movements of his thumbs on her cheeks grow rushed, and erratic.

“Oh sweetheart,” Satoru means to speak in a murmur, but his voice wavers as much as his breath. It’s littered with an emotion that makes (y/n’s) stomach churn and knot. “You know I hate seeing you cry”

His eyes follow the constant flow of tears as he prods carefully to wipe them away. His heart weighs heavy in his chest, sinking all the way to his stomach.

Slowly, (y/n) inches forward, her eyes flickering between his for a moment, before her hands rest on his shoulders and she leans in to embrace him. It’s stiff at first, as if they were unfamiliar with hugging one another. But she sinks into him after adjusting, and wraps her arms around his neck completely while holding on tight.

His own arms encircle her waist, before resting cheek atop her head.

“I wish I could just hate him,” She mumbles into his shoulder, the fabric of his tee shirt growing wet with her tears pooling into it. “It would make it easier”

Satoru nods. One of his hands pressed flat against her back as he started to move it in soothing circles.

They sit quietly for a few minutes, until her crying has calmed enough that she’s not shaking anymore, and his eyes have fallen shut with fatigue whilst he’s holding her close and rubbing her back.

“D’you want to go inside?” Satoru hums, tilting his head to press her lips into her hair. “Get some rest?”

She doesn’t answer him right away. Not in words, at least. Her arms tighten around him in the slightest, tensing up as she makes sure her hold on him is firm.

“No,” She whispers, followed by another squeeze, and this time he feels the pads of her fingertips pressing into the material of his shirt, against his skin. “I want to stay here a little longer,” She admits while she pushes her face into the crook of his neck. “If that’s okay?” She asks in a smaller voice.

“Of course that’s okay,” Satoru agrees, his free hand reaching up to cup the back of her head. He gently pets her hair as she settles back into him again. Best case scenario, she’ll fall asleep, and he can tuck her into bed and hope that the rest brings her more comfort than he’s capable of. “Whatever you want, sweetheart,” His lips graze over her head as he murmurs, “Just let me know. I’ll do whatever you need. I’ll get you whatever you need. Just tell me”

Again, her hold stiffens on him, and she’s got him so snug in her arms now that breaking away would prove to be difficult. Strongest be damned. No hold on Gojo Satoru has ever been more binding.

And then she’s pulling away. Her arms loosen and slide away, only for her hands to find purchase at his forearms, tethering herself to him with a gentle grip. Even still, this has him locked to her, chained, bound.

He lifts his head to look at her properly, meeting her wide, panicked eyes. There’s a few tears left, clinging where they could. They hide in plain sight at the corners of her eyes and on her cheeks. Satoru has the thought to clear them away, but her hands begin to shake as she clings to his arms, and he doesn’t have the heart to pull himself from her grip.

No hold on Gojo Satoru has ever been more binding.

“Then I need you to promise me something,” She speaks with urgency, although he could already see the fright in her eyes. He doesn’t get a chance to nod in agreement before she’s speaking again. “You can’t ever go”

Satoru blinks, taken aback by the request. He’s quick to reassure her with a small chuckle, not out of humor, but from the irony that she feels the need to ask such a thing.

“Of course I won’t-”

“I’m serious,” She speaks over him, eyes unblinking as she moves her hands to clutch onto his shoulders. Her hold is softer now, but it carries the same weight. “Please, promise me,” She whispers. “Promise you won’t go anywhere,”

She sucks in a breath as she fights more tears from pooling in her eyes.

“Promise me I won’t ever lose you, too,”

Satoru’s brows pinch together as he nods back at her in a small motion. With his arms free, he cups her face in his hands again, tilting her head forward so he could seal his promise with his lips pressed against the crown of her head.

He lingers there for a second, before kissing her in the middle of her forehead once more and leaning away so he could look at her.

“I just can’t-” She tries to speak but her tears are choking her up again. “I can’t lose you, okay?”

He’s nodding at her, his expression gravely serious as he agrees to her terms.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart,” Satoru tucks a loose strand of hair carefully behind her ear before continuing. “You’ll never lose me,” He gives her a sweet, comforting smile before he’s cupping her face again, fingers splayed across her cheeks, catching the last of her tears and drying them off. “I need ya too much, yaknow?”

A faint smile quirks at the corners of her lips, her eyes filling with relief, and something bashful. He can feel it in the warmth of her face.

Softly, she murmurs, “I need you, too,”

It’s a difficult thing to say out loud, there’s more weight to those words than she thought there would be, but it’s the truth, and she needs him to know it. She needs him to know that while there’s still things she can’t bring herself to admit, at the end of the day he had her complete trust. And right now, that seems more important.

“I…” Her voice gets caught in her throat, but this time it’s not because of the burn of tears. She swallows hard anyways, and musters up the courage to continue. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, ‘toru”

His smile grows warm and syrupy. It might not have been the confession he was holding out for, but it still made something fluttery and ticklish dance around his inside. His heart swells. His eyelashes grow heavy.

“Miss me, hopefully” He murmurs, gently pinching her cheek between his thumb and index finger, then smoothing over the skin with the pad of his thumb.

Her mood is significantly lifted by his familiar and affectionate teasing. Her pain still lurks around the corner, but right now her back is turned, and all she can see are his bright eyes and tender smile. All she knows is that his hands are warm against her face, and it turns her to putty having him this close.

Her head tilts to the side, cheek pressing further into the comforting warmth of his hand. He regards her with a fondness so intense it almost makes her nervous. Sometimes she had to re-learn how to get used to this look.

“Then…” Her voice is merely a breath. “Stay”

He’s smiling again, even though he knows she’s not asking him to spend the night in the spare room- which he’d already done five days out of this week without being invited, he didn’t need an invitation to crash there, he just did- but asking him to stay here, with her. He shouldn’t be smiling, he shouldn’t feel that skip in his heart beat as he preens with pride and adoration. Because the last time he’d stayed with her, it had been too hard.

It was too domestic. Too intimate. And all too difficult to pretend that it was normal, or casual. The feelings that she plants in him blossom like uncontrollable wildflowers, and Satoru had realized he was far too weak to ever put himself through it again. He cared about her too deeply to jeopardize it all over a shared bed. Maybe it was childish of him, but he’d sworn he wouldn’t do it again. When she’d made it so clear where they stood with one another, it wasn’t fair to her to gaze at her long after she'd fallen asleep in his arms and ache for more.

But Satoru is a fool.

He’s carefully helping her back through the window while she holds the cupcake in one hand and his in the other. Before he heads to the spare room- where he has left quite a few drawers worth of extra clothes- he gives her hand a squeeze. A silent promise that he’ll be quick. She leaves the cupcake on her bedside table while she sits at the edge of her mattress and waits. He is very quick, back in her room after barely two minutes have gone by. When he closes the door, he does so as silently as possible. When he sits beside her, his movements are slow, almost calculated with how carefully he moves.

“We should eat this cupcake,” She tells him, her eyes focused on the treat with an unreadable emotion behind them. “It would be a shame… if it went to waste”

He lets out a chuckle, which has her attention shifting to him.

“I couldn’t agree more” He says with a wide grin.

Her brow furrows.

“Were you just waiting for me to-”

“Yes, yeah I was, hand it over”

He’s already reaching across her to snatch the plate off of the table. There’s a plastic knife residing beside the cupcake, and after carefully peeling off the paper wrapper, Satoru cuts the cake down the middle as evenly as he could. (y/n) almost laughs at his eagerness to eat the treat. She supposes she could have let him have the whole thing if he was so eager for it, but he’s already handing her a half, and it does look delicious.

When she’d wandered into the bakery earlier that afternoon, before the Fushiguro kids were out of school, she hadn’t really planned on picking out a dessert to celebrate the birthday of someone she was trying to forget. She wasn’t really sure what had wound her up in there, she hadn’t held a particular craving for any of the sugary sweets on display. Then she’d seen that cupcake in the glass case, and as soon as her eyes had landed on it, she found herself getting in line to order it. All the while telling herself this was silly, that he didn’t even have a sweet tooth, and this wasn’t at all what she would have gotten to celebrate his day had he been here.

But he wasn’t here. And (y/n) was taking the small box home to sit on her counter where it could taunt her for the rest of the day, until she;d given in and plated the damn thing.

Now she stares at her half of it, held carefully in her fingertips. The frosting felt heavy atop the small piece of cake, and she’s reminded that she actually doesn’t really care for cupcakes. They were awkward, especially ones like these, where it was impossible to take a bite without getting cream smeared on your face.

She really shouldn’t have bought this.

“Well, that was the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten”

Satoru snaps her out of her thoughts, her head snapping towards him in a jerky movement, as if she’d forgotten he was sitting beside her. He’s got the pad of his middle finger between pursed lips, happily sucking off the last of the sugary sweetness. He grins at her surprise. (y/n) looks back at her own piece, and finally, carefully takes a bite.

It’s all vanilla and sugar. From the cake to the frosting and sprinkles, the tiny dessert is packed with sweetness. Even after one bite she’s certain that half of the cupcake was plenty, and she never would have eaten the whole thing on her own. Although she’s sure Satoru would have finished the whole thing without a complaint.

Just as she’d thought, when she finishes her piece, she can feel the remnants of frosting clinging to her lip. With a crinkled nose she wipes at it with her thumb, before turning to Satoru.

“Did I get it all?” She asks. He chuckles as he shakes his head, amused by the smear of white over her cupid’s bow. However before she can blindly rub it away some more, he’s leaning forward. His fingers hook under her chin while his thumb craftily swipes over her upper lip, making sure to get the last of the offending frosting.

It’s not much, and really had she rubbed her mouth again she would have easily cleared away the rest of it, but he couldn’t resist, and he was acting without thinking.

“There ya go” He hums, his voice quieter than he meant it to be, before he’s sticking his thumb in his mouth to enjoy the last of her vanilla frosting as well.

(y/n) blinks, her eyes wide but the rest of her expression blank. She figures she should thank him, maybe even make a joke to play off the strangely intimate act that has her heart doing somersaults in her chest, but she can’t bring herself to say anything.

Without a word, she stands from the bed, placing the plate with the wrapper and plasticware back on her nightstand. Satoru takes his time getting settled under her covers, against her pillows. When she climbs in after him, she’s still quiet. She tucks the blanket up close to her chin, and then glances up to him, finding his eyes already on her.

They’re not touching, but he’s close enough that she can feel his heat under the shared blankets. He’s close enough that she’s glad it’s dark in the room, because her face feels warm with the familiar sensation of a blush.

Four years of knowing him, and his close proximity still garnered the same reaction out of her. She wondered if he knew she was blushing anyways, if his Six Eyes were always able to see right through her.

“Can I ask you something?” She murmurs, although her eyes are feeling too heavy to start a conversation right now.

He gives her a small smirk and a raised brow, intrigued by the age old anxiety-inducing question.

“Shoot” He muses back.

“How do you do it?” (y/n’s) hand slides under her pillow, raising her head just enough to get a proper look at him. He looks puzzled, like he doesn’t understand the question, so she clarifies. “You know, have the answer for everything,” She says. “I feel like I… I feel like I bombard you with problem after problem and you just…”

She trails off, and if she was being honest it’s because she’s getting lost in his eyes and forgetting momentarily what she was even talking about. There were times when she looked at him that while he looked back, she got the overwhelming sense of his complete attention. And sometimes, it made her heart stutter. Occasionally her voice would deceive her, too. She wants to move in closer, until she’s so impossibly too close, but she snaps back to reality just as her mind had started to drift off.

“You just always know what to do. Or say” She finishes her thought in a hushed whisper. Maybe it was her train of thought turning hazy from the adoration seeping in, but she suddenly feels like it was a confidential thing to say, too full of emotion to put out in the open so brazenly.

Satoru chuckles, and it relieves some of the tension that’s curling up in her chest.

“It’s cute that you think that,” He replies. “That’s just what we do, though, isn’t it?”

Now it’s her turn to furrow her eyebrows, not understanding what he’s trying to say.

Satoru gives her a small shrug.

“We look out for each other,” He states. “Right?”

“I ‘spose” (y/n) mumbles back, feeling severely gutted by the realization that he looked out for her more than she did for him. How do you have the back of someone who’s already the strongest in the world? How could she possibly be as good to him as he was to her?

It dawns on her then that she can’t, that she could never be a semblance of a person he deserved to have in his life. Not just due to his strength and status, but because of who Gojo Satoru was as a human. He was far too good, too kind and caring and patient for the likes of her to be involved with him. She was messy, at times reckless, and most of all she lived too much in her own head. Overthinking every situation, and every word, most days it felt like it took her ages just to find the right way to respond, to find the right words, make the right face.

Like right now.

“You don’t think so?” Satoru asks, readjusting his pillow so he too could get a better look at her. Her lips twitch into an awkward smile, nervous that he was able to read her so easily. “What’re you thinkin’ about?”

But how was she supposed to tell him? While she lays here and feels regret and guilt flood through her bloodstream like poison, how does she explain to him that she finally understood why she’d pushed him away all those months ago when he’d tried to make something more of the two of them? Just the thought has her skin crawling with goosebumps, and her heart thumping hard in her chest with adrenaline.

“C’mon, tell me” He prods again, this time giving her a smile, too curious to know what was knotting up her pretty features with an upset expression. Something clearly bothered her about his statement- or at least, it was clear to him.

Her mouth opens, but even still she struggles to find the right thing to say. No set of words in her language seemed like a good enough explanation. Or maybe she just didn’t want to admit what had been on her mind. Because admitting it would prove to him that it had been on her mind.

“I…” Her throat feels dry. The fingers under her pillow curl into the sheets tightly. “I don’t think it’s fair of me to ask you to stay,” She confesses in a small voice. Satoru’s face falls. “I don’t think it’s fair of me to make you promise,”

He lifts his head from the pillow, bracing himself up on his arm as he looks down at her with an expression that was somewhere between concern and peculiarity.

Holding onto her last scrap of courage, (y/n) continues.

“You’re destined for such magnificent things,” She murmurs, a ghost of a smile on her face. “And you’re the strongest but- but it’s not just because of that. You were always going to be destined for great things, because… because you’re you,”

She pauses, taking in a small breath and fighting the urge to look away from him, to spare herself from the eyes that were piercing into hers with ardent focus.

“And I… I’m just…” Her lip gets dragged between her teeth as she shakes her head in a slow movement. “You were born deserving so, so much more than…” In a lazy gesture, her free hand waves above her, fingers twitching in small motions. She doesn’t say me, but he knows it’s what she’s trying to convey.

“Don’t say that” He mumbles, offended that she could even think such an untrue, vulgar thing about herself, about the person he cares so much more about than she gave him credit for.

“It’s true,” She says back. “You could be doing so much more amazing things with your life, you could have anything in the world if you wanted it, but instead you’re- you’re here,” Her voice grows smaller as she speaks, the dread of what she needed to say next weighing heavy on her tongue. “And I… I know I shouldn’t be making you promise to stay. I should be making you go,”

She swallows hard, trying to get the lump in her throat to smooth away, but it lingers there, and makes her breath hitch as she closes her eyes before continuing.

“But I just can’t bring myself to do it”

She can’t see him, but Satoru’s shaking his head at her, refusing to accept any of the nonsense she’s telling him right now.

“Then don’t,” He says, his words rushed, desperate to make himself clear before actually thinking through what the right thing to say was. “You don’t have to. I don’t want you to,”

She’s refusing to look at him, so with his free hand, he cups her face, and he waits until she does. Her eyes are glossy, but she’s fighting the need to cry again.

“You understand me, sweetheart?” He murmurs, his voice softening as he gazes down at her. The snow-white tips of his hair almost touch her forehead with how close he’s leaning. “I don’t want to go anywhere, I don’t want to be anywhere else, with anyone else, even right now, okay?”

She presses her lips together in an attempt to hide her wince.

“Tell me you understand,” He whispers, eyes flickering between hers. “I need to know that you understand”

A small sniffle, and then a nod.

“I understand,” Her voice cracks even in her whisper. “I just-”

“No more of that,” He murmurs, his gentle thumb tracing her cheekbone in slow, lazy movements. “No more of that, I can’t stand it. You can’t push me away. Not again. Not ever again” He’s shaking his head to punctuate every word.

A single tear drips from her eye as she blinks, and he’s quick to wipe it away, just as he had earlier, desperate to make all of her tears disappear in any way he can, anyway she needs.

This wasn’t the first time she’d done this, but it gutted him all the same, recalling the last time she’d tried to force him away. She’d nearly gone and gotten herself killed by the hands of the Zen’in Clan. And before that was their fight, in the halls of Jujutsu Tech, when she’d told him that she didn’t need him. He nearly shudders at the memory. Of course he knew now that she hadn’t meant it, that it was her desperate attempt to keep him from prying into her life where she’d thought he was going to wind up hurt.

Now it was different. Now it was real. It was raw ache and fear before him.

“I promised you I’m not going anywhere,” He tells her. His eyes trailing down to her lips on their own accord. “I need you to promise me the same,”

There’s a pause as his words hang between them, and then she gives him a shaky nod. Her wide eyes don’t leave his, they remain searching, needing to be sure that he means it. There’s not a bone in her body that tells her otherwise, but she’s so terrified of the fear of losing him that she just needs to be absolutely sure.

“I’m the one being unfair,” Satoru murmurs, his eyes following the movement of his thumb over her cheek. “I know that, I know that you don’t want more and I overstep anyways because… because I can’t help it”

There’s a shift in the mood, she can feel it, how it lightens the pressure on her chest before slamming it right back down.

He leans closer, and her breath hitches in her throat at the prospect of him closing every last inch of distance between them. She should stop him, she should put her hands on his shoulders and push him away until he’s at a safe distance from her again. But she doesn’t.

She pulls her hand out from under her pillow, and it blindly slides over the sheets until it finds his. Her movements are slow, almost frightfully so as her fingers slot between his. She tries to calm her breathing but it’s hard to focus on it and him so she settles for keeping her focus on him.

With her fingers fully tangled with his he squeezes her hand, maybe tighter than he should have, but having her so close is intoxicating, and he just wants to savor it for as long as he can.

(y/n) takes in a deep breath.

“I never said I didn’t want more,” She whispers, peering up at him from beneath heavy lashes.

His heart is beating so quickly he’s certain she can hear it. It pounds heavily in his ears, almost louder than her hushed whispers. Was he understanding her right?

“I was just… afraid” She admits it softly.

Satoru furrows his brow, but his lips curl into a smirk that had her regretting saying anything because she knows he’s about to tease her now.

“Afraid?” He repeats with a small laugh. “You think I’d ever do anything to hurt you?”

He’s teasing, but the thought makes him want to throw up.

“Course not,” She shakes her head, before gently pressing her face further into the warmth of his hand. She hopes it’s an unnoticed movement, but from the way he also applies more pressure in his touch, she thinks otherwise. “More like I’m afraid of hurting you”

Satoru laughs louder this time, his face splitting into a delighted smile. He’s completely amused by the idea, and (y/n) frowns at him.

“You can’t hurt me sweetheart,” He practically purrs, and then he’s leaning closer. His chest hovers over her close enough that she feels almost caged in by him. He’s close enough now that the tip of his nose nearly bumps into hers. “I’m completely untouchable”

She squeezes his hand with an affectionate roll of her eyes.

“I think you have to actually activate infinity if you want it to work” She murmurs.

It’s quiet again, the two of them smiling at each other fondly, foolishly, both taken away by a deep infatuation that had been repressed for far too long. It seeps out of them now like an overflow, pouring out in the cracks that were their adoring eyes.

Her free hand reaches up towards his face, fingertips ghosting over the soft ends of his hair that hangs down over her eyes. She combs her fingers through the silky strands of white before trailing downwards, her touch light and gentle as she traces his forehead, followed by his nose, then cheekbone, down towards his jaw. Her sleepy gaze observes every drag of her fingers, as though committing it all to memory.

Satoru’s frozen above her, allowing her to explore every inch of his face if she so pleased. It was a face she’d known for years, but she touches him now like she’s only recently been bestowed the gift of sight. He’s not sure the last time he’s been touched so gently. There’s a distant memory of his mother’s hand caressing his cheek, but even in a fond memory the touch is fleeting.

Being touched like this- softly, sweetly, carefully, lovingly- by her, it’s as though she has all the time in the world.

Her fingers fall still over his chin as her eyes flit back up to his.

They meet for a brief moment before his eyes are falling shut and he’s closing the space between them. As soon as his lips touch hers she’s sliding her hand under his jaw, keeping him perfectly in place as she kisses him back.

His mouth is warm, and still sweet from the cupcake they’d shared, which seems like forever ago. In fact everything seems to fade away. The only thing she can feel is his soft lips, his soft hand splayed over her cheek, the soft swipe of his thumb over hers where their hands are still interlocked.

The kiss is experimentally slow at first. They’re both holding their breath, each half expecting the other to pull away prematurely with remorseful eyes. Neither do.

They part for a second, only because oxygen becomes a necessity once more. Satoru smiles down at her when he sees her eyes are still shut, and he can’t help but to lean in and plant one more quick kiss on her lips. He’s waited this long to get his chance, he might as well steal as many as he could get.

As he lays back on his side of the bed, he moves his hand from her cheek to her waist, gently coaxing her to lay closer, until she’s curled up into his side, one of her legs thrown between his, her head resting in the soft place below his collarbone. Their conjoined hands rest over his stomach. He’s still stroking his thumb over hers. She’s drawn to sleep by nothing but comfort.

“G’night, ‘toru” Her words are mumbled, and a little slurred.

He plants his lips at the crown of her head sweetly. She drifts to sleep with a faint smile.

“Goodnight, sweetheart”

___

The next morning she’s lured out of sleep by the smell of bacon.

It smells like a lot of other delicious things, too, but the bacon is what has her peeking open an eye to check the time. Sure enough, her bed is empty, and it’s mid-morning.

This time when she slips out of the covers to go check out the buffet of breakfast foods Satoru had been whipping up- effectively making an absolute mess of her kitchen- she’s not hungover. Her head isn’t killing her with such a brutal headache that she couldn’t open her eyes. As she walks quietly into the kitchen, she’s able to watch as Tsumiki pours pancake batter out of a ladle, carefully making shapes on the griddle. She leans into the fridge while she watches Satoru talk through his bacon frying process while Megumi sits on his shoulders, leaned over the top of his head, and apparently actually listening to him.

Tsumiki flips a pancake with perfect precision and they all cheer. Satoru reminds her to add chocolate chips to the bowl of pancake batter once she’s made enough for herself, Megumi, and (y/n). Because I refuse to eat pancakes without them, he reminds her, even though she doesn’t need it. He’s spent enough breakfasts with them now for the kids to realize how debilitating his sweet tooth was.

It’s Megumi who first notices (y/n’s) secretly joined them. With a boyish grin he tugs at Satoru’s hair, who cries out and almost stumbles at the sudden and sharp pain.

The pain is eased when he sees what Megumi was trying to catch his attention for. (y/n’s) trying to stifle her laughter from behind her hand, but she’s failing.

“Awe, the surprise is ruined now” Satoru frowns.

She drops her hand and shakes her head as she wanders further into the kitchen to see what else this mess had created. Megumi reaches towards her in a silent ask to be let off of Satoru’s shoulders. She lifts him up with ease and sets him on the ground.

“It’s not ruined at all,” She says with a smile. “But if you want to do it all again tomorrow, I’ll pretend I didn’t know” She adds in a tease.

“Yeah! Can we?” Tsumiki asks excitedly. “I want to make omelets!”

“No! French toast!” Megumi declares.

The pair break into a fit of bickering, which is quickly silenced by Satoru.

“Hey! You two are ruining this perfect morning!” He barks. “Stop fighting and we can have both!”

He doesn’t know how to make omelets, hell, he struggled with the bacon, so he’s hoping he can find a youtube tutorial decent enough to teach a helpless cook like him how to make some. But his promise does the trick and Megumi and Tsumiki work together to make more pancakes.

“Do you even know how-?” (y/n) begins to question his ability as she eyes the crispy bacon in the pan he’s no longer paying attention to because she’s there now and she somehow looks so pretty first thing in the morning. Her hair a complete mess, and donning a fluffy robe with bunnies all over it, he thinks it’s the cutest thing ever.

“Sh sh sh,” He hushes with a shake of his head, his hand wrapping around her hip as he pulls her into his side before finally looking back at the bacon. “Oh, shit” He mutters as he darts to turn off the stove while (y/n) picks up the tongs and plucks the strips off the pan before they start to completely burn.

“Yeah, maybe tomorrow I cook,” She muses, nose wrinkling at the overcooked bacon. But when she looks up at him again, she smiles happily. “You and Megumi will be on french toast duty,” She says decidedly. “I’ll teach Tsumiki how to make omelets”

His lips curl into a smirk at the simple instruction.

“Little Hex, are you inviting me to stay the night?”

“Ew!” Megumi grimaces, sticking his tongue out at the obvious flirt.

Tsumiki’s giggling, and starts to make a heart shaped pancake on the griddle, complete with Satoru’s chocolate chips.

(y/n) rolls her eyes, but her cheeks are undeniably warm, pink blossoming across her face.

“Only if Megumi says it’s okay” She replies, tilting her chin up at him teasingly.

Satoru turns the other way to look down at the kid that had a sinister smile on his face. Jeez, sometimes this kid creeped him out. How come (y/n’s) golden boy had to be such a goddamn menace?

Apparently she just had a soft spot for menaces.

Satoru meets Megumi’s ruthless stare with narrowed eyes.

“I’ll give you three hundred dollars”

“Satoru!” (y/n) picks up a kitchen towel off the counter to smack his arm with it. “No bribing the kids!”

“Fine,” He grumbles, catching the soft weapon mid swing before she could hit him again. Then he peeks back towards Megumi, and in a slightly quieter voice says, “Four hundred?”

(y/n) gasps at his blatant disregard for her rules, but before she can scold him again, Megumi gives a firm nod of agreement, and looks over to her.

“He can stay,” He says decidedly, but mutters to himself as he goes back to helping his sister with the pancakes. “He stays over every other freakin’ night anyways”

Tsumiki’s giggling as she whispers her own little rumors, much to the boy’s dismay, but he listens anyway.

“I think he’s warmin’ up to me” Satoru grins at (y/n). She presses her lips together so as not to laugh too hard at the statement.

“You’ve done right by them,” She tells him, something that he’d told her not too long ago. From the way his grin turns into a soft smile, she has a feeling he remembers. “And besides, everyone warms up to you eventually”

“You think you ever will?” He asks, only teasing.

She shrugs a shoulder, humming as though thinking it over.

“Maybe,” She muses, plucking a chocolate chip from the open bag on the counter. He furrows his brow at the sudden playfulness rather than a real answer. “We’ll see”

[ this is a place where i don’t feel alone / this is a place where i feel at home ]

___

a/n: i just want to gush about how much i loved writing this series, and sharing it with you all. it has been my absolute passion project. sorry the slow burn was so slow but i tried to keep it as realistic to the events of the manga and just how things would play out irl. i have a couple other spin-off fics related to this series in the works so i suppose it's not over yet- i just needed more fluff related to these characters that have brought me such comfort and entertainment!! thank you all for your continued support and love for this series (and my other fics too!) having this be so well received warms my heart <3 xoxo ~ jordie

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