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revrover · 1 year

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The Stranger - Pt. 2

Part One: The Stranger

Part Three

Pairing: Namor x Reader

Word Count: 8k (lol whoops)

Warnings: Violence, Blood, Language, PLOT

Summary: Namor isn’t the only one who has been searching for his general. Thanks to you, Namora’s life was saved -- but when your connection to the two strangers brings you face to face with a hostile group of government agents, you find yourself in the crossfire of a much bigger conflict.

A/N: OMG first and foremost thank you for being here, thank your for coming back, and thank you for reading. This has taken me a bit longer to post because I’ve been pouring over it every day for a month, trying to get it just right. Comments, feedback and reblogs mean THE WORLD to me, so feel free to show some love and as always please be kind!

***I do not give permission to copy, plagiarize, or repost my work as your own in any form!

There is a growing unrest inside you.

Days have passed since your encounter with Namor after saving the life of his general, Namora. Two mysterious strangers who have left your mind reeling with questions, unrelenting and unquenchable as a flame that dares to spread like wildfire, consuming your thoughts entirely.

You repeatedly play the memory over in your head with no rational way to explain what you witnessed; her blue skin, his superhuman strength; the curious metal that outfitted both of their armor; how they disappeared into the vast open ocean.

"Something on your mind?" A fruit vendor asks, snapping you back to reality. You stand in the middle of the bustling village marketplace, doing your best to orient yourself quickly.

“Your head is — how you say…? — in the clouds, yes?” The vendor asks in her best English, smiling politely at you as she stands next to her cart, eager for you to buy something.

"Is it that obvious?" You joke with a tired laugh. "Two, please."

You scoop up a pair of fresh mangos and hand the woman some change from your pocket. She kindly accepts it with a nod of appreciation. Carefully sliding the fruit into your bag, you return a nod of your own.

You continue to walk through the market, the damp air carrying an aroma of local cuisine and sweat fills your lungs. Weaving your way in and out of aisles created by vendor carts, you feel a sense of calm as you watch the locals interacting with one another. There's beauty to be found in their sense of community.

Typically, you would gather your needed food and supplies and then be on your way back home, but today as your mind wanders, so do your feet.

Meandering down another aisle, your thoughts drift back to Namor, specifically the morning you found him on your front porch. You can practically feel the warmth of that sunrise as you imagine its light illuminating his dark eyes. You picture the smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth when you asked him if he would come back, a moment you hold onto tightly. The memory gives you optimism that you will see him again someday and hopefully have the opportunity to ask him more questions.

Lost in thought, you hardly notice a small crate sticking out a few inches further than other accompanying carts in the aisle. Tripping your foot as you walk by, it nearly tumbles you to the ground. You manage to catch your balance and your breath before face-planting into the dirt. Immediately turning to apologize, you find an elderly man seated behind the crate, his back leaning against the wagon behind him and his eyes shut.

The man is slender and his head bald, save for a few wisps of hair above his ears. Most of his body is covered by a knitted green poncho, well-worn and fraying along the hem. To both your relief and surprise, he seems completely undisturbed by your clumsy collision with his crate of goods. Unsure if he’s even awake, you reach down to help reset any items on the crate you may have displaced.

Your jaw drops slightly as you see the contents on display. Spread out on a velvet brown tablecloth sits a small assortment of beautiful books, scrolls, and other documents. Admiring them, you reach out and push back one of the scrolls, revealing a gorgeous hand-sketched portrait of the island.

“Did you draw this?” You ask, impressed by the skill of it.

“Mmm,” He hums, shaking his head, "But I made very good trade with the man who did.”

You find his answer odd, though slightly amusing, considering he never opened his eyes to see which piece you were referring to. As you browse the rest of the items, a particular book stands out to you. It’s different from the rest of the collection — small and bound in leather, although the leather itself is worn and brittle-looking. You pick it up and inspect it closer. The binding is loose, the pages aged and tattered.

“Careful with that one. Very old.” The elderly man says, his eyes remaining shut. “Nearly 400 years. Got it in a trade with a visiting merchant from our southeastern sister islands."

How does he even do that? You wonder as you start delicately flipping through the pages of the book. You make it about midway through when you open to a particular page that makes you freeze, your heart nearly jumping out of your throat. Your eyes widen as you bring the page closer to your face.

It’s a crude drawing — basic, two-dimensional, and very old like the man said, but the likeness is undeniable. Depicted is the figure of a man. He dawns a grand snake-like headpiece and is grasping a spear. His body is adorned with jade and other metals. Sharp ears. Winged ankles.

"Excuse me!” you ask the elderly man with an exasperated breath, practically jumping over the crate as you lean forward and shout, “These!" You flip the book around to show him the open page, pointing excessively at the picture and the glyphs below it. "What do these say?!"

Your voice is eager and desperate, emotions you hardly try to hide.

The man's left eye slowly squints open.

“Only few are still legible.” He says, shrugging.

“Okay, yes, but the ones you can read, what do they say?!” You plead.

He sighs, opening his other eye and leaning forward slightly to get a better look. After a moment, he leans back against the wagon and closes his eyes again.

"King. Serpent. God. Monster."

You hang on to each word he tells you. Turning the book back around, you bring it back up to your face for another closer inspection.

"How much?" You ask, ready to make a deal.

The elderly man cracks one eye open to look at you for a moment as he considers his price, then wordlessly points to your arm with a feeble finger. You follow his gaze down to the small beaded bracelet around your wrist — the last reminder of your life before coming to the island. You hold your arm up to him, making sure you understand correctly. He nods politely, and without hesitation, you untie the bracelet and toss it to him.

"Nice doing business!" He says with a wide grin as he holds up the bracelet. You are already nose-deep in the book as you turn on your heels, quickening your pace as you head home where you can study more carefully.

Maneuvering your way out of the market to the outskirts of the village, you hardly need your eyes to guide your feet home. You take advantage of the remaining daylight to examine the pages as you walk, turning page after page and scanning for any information about Namor and his people. There’s little there, the book seeming to be a very old, mingled account of island history and lore. Seeing as you are not a historian and certainly not a linguist, it’s difficult to decipher. Still, you do your best to piece together what you can from the pictures.

King. Serpent. God. Monster.

The sky begins to dim. You can hear the faint roar of waves as you near the coastline. It’s too dark to see much detail on the pages now, so you carefully tuck the book into your bag as you step over the trunks of palm trees. The path beneath your feet gradually turns from brush to sand, and soon you find yourself walking along the familiar stretch of beach that leads you home. You stare out into the darkness, listening to the rhythmic pattern of ocean waves and breathing in the salty evening air. The moon hovers above the water, burning brightly as countless stars paint the sky behind it.

You continue walking in the darkness, but there’s an uneasiness building in your gut the further you go. You should be nearing home by now, but no lanterns have come into view. You always light lanterns before heading into town. They burn for hours in your absence so, by the time you return, you have light to guide you. All you see now are shadows and silhouettes that dance against the tree line, and every sound and indiscernible movement has you on edge.

It’s not until you are nearly a stone's throw away that the bungalow materializes in the night. Your stomach twists as the wind blows by you, rustling your hair and causing the snuffed-out lanterns hanging from your porch to creak as they swing back and forth. You hear shuffling, and small beams of light sporadically shine through the cracks of lumber that make up the walls of your home.

There is someone inside.

An alarm goes off in your head, screaming at you to get out. As quietly as possible, you begin backing away. Eyes fixed on the bungalow, you take one step back. Then another. Then another. Then — thud.

Your stomach flips and your throat tightens. While you pray you’ve miscalculated and miraculously made it to the tree line in three short steps instead of thirty, you feel the unmistakable presence of a body directly behind you.

“Going somewhere?” A deep voice growls menacingly. It belongs to a man, his tone gruff, although you can’t quite make out his accent. You do, however, feel the blood drain from your face as you slowly turn your head, finding what is quite possibly the largest human being you have ever seen. Dressed in black military-grade tactical gear and armed with enough ammo and firepower to take on a small army, you know there is no fucking way you are getting away from this guy.

The man grabs your arm and forcefully drags you toward the bungalow. Once up the stairs, he pushes you inside and releases his grasp. You rub your arm and look up to find another man standing in your kitchen, his back turned away from you as he stands hunched over your table. He’s dressed in similar tactical gear and has a walkie-talkie hooked to his belt. A lantern burns next to him as he seems to be pouring over some sort of map.

“Sir,” the man behind you bellows.

The man at the table straightens his posture and turns around to face you both. His hair is buzzed and his face is stubbly, with a thick prominent mustache that stretches across his upper lip. He seems a bit older, and by the ‘sir’ formality, you are fairly confident he is in charge.

“Ah, we were wondering when you would be back.” He says in a sly tone, his accent American.

“Who the hell are you? What are you doing in my house?” You respond in anger to the unwelcome visitor.

The man takes a sweeping look around the place, then his eyes come back to you.

“I think we can agree that “house” is a bit of a loose term.” He responds with sarcasm, a knowing look on his face. You continue to stare him down, unresponsive to his quip. The man loosens his shoulders and smiles at you. “Where are my manners? Agent Barrett.” He reaches his hand out, offering to shake yours.

You don’t move a muscle.

There is an awkward moment of silence, then Agent Barrett’s hand retreats. He turns, beginning to pace around your tiny kitchen. The room is in rougher shape than usual, clearly ransacked by whatever search was conducted before your arrival. The agent picks up a small roll of gauze from off the counter and holds it up.

“Tell me,” he says, inspecting the bandage material closely, “have you had any visitors recently?” His gaze quickly flicks over to you, an eyebrow raised.

Your pulse quickens as your blood turns to ice. Your mind immediately flashes to Namora floating wounded in the water; to Namor breaking down your door; to the two of them disappearing into the night. You put on your best poker face and shake your head.

“There’s no one around here for miles,” you explain, trying to be as convincing as possible. “You should try more inland towards the village. Most tourists, if any, stick closer to town or retreat to the far side of the island where—“

“Oh, she’s no tourist.” Agent Barrett chuckles, cutting you off. It feels insulting as if your suggestion were so preposterous it was borderline humorous.

She. He is looking for Namora.

Setting the gauze down next to the sink, Agent Barrett turns and walks over to you.

“You’re certain you haven’t seen anybody unusual around here in the past few days?”

He’s standing much closer now. Something about him makes your skin crawl. You eye the gun strapped to his hip and doubt it is for self-defense. Again, you shake your head.

Barrett sighs and gives you a disappointed smile.

“Okay.” He says softly while nodding his head. He backs away from you as the room lingers in silence. You allow yourself to take a breath, but the relief is short-lived. “Looks like we’re doing this the hard way.”

On Barrett’s cue, the large man behind you grabs your shoulder and kicks the back of your legs, dropping you hard to your knees. With his free hand, he yanks the bag off your other shoulder and tosses it to another man who emerges from the doorway to your bedroom. He catches the bag and immediately starts rummaging through it.

“Hey—HEY!” You shout, “What the hell are you—“

“A woman!” Barrett yells. “Pale blue skin. Very skilled swimmer. Four days ago, she single-handedly took down three UN-sanctioned vessels in the middle of the goddamn Atlantic! Three! Now where I’m from,” he crouches down to your level, aggressively getting in your face as he drops his voice lower, “that’s what we call an act of terrorism.”

Adrenaline overtakes your body as you feel your heart beat so intensely it threatens to break right out of your chest. From the corner of your eye, you watch as Barrett’s henchman searches your bag. He pulls out the mangos and tosses them on the floor. Then, he grabs the old leather-bound book. Turning it over in his hand, he looks at it for a moment and tucks it into his belt.

“She was wounded,” Barrett continues, calling your attention back to him, “and our intelligence indicates she washed up somewhere along this shoreline. That's where her trail goes cold. And as you said, there's no one around here for miles. No one, except you."

His implication is obvious.

“This woman, where is she?” He makes a last-ditch effort to convey a friendly tone, but you can hear his patience dwindling. "And please don't make me ask again."

You stare at him coldly, lips sealed together. You’re not telling this man a damn thing.

"Mmmm," is all he grunts, his eyes dropping to the ground. He heaves a heavy sigh as he pushes against his knees to stand up. Once on his feet, Agent Barrett stares at you for another moment before nodding his head to the agent behind you. The next thing you know, you are suddenly being pulled up by your hair, the man’s grip tight against the back of your neck as he turns and pushes you out the door.

Your hands clamor to his as you struggle against him to relieve the painful tension pulling on your scalp, attempting to release his grip on you. But the man is too strong and drags you down the stairs of your porch with ease. You make it a few meters down the shore when he shoves you down to your knees. Your legs make divots in the sand as your hands catch the rest of your body’s momentum. Hunched over, your knees and palms sting from the sand's friction.

You immediately tense up as you feel a gun press against your head, the cool metal barrel hungry to fire. Hearing footsteps approaching behind, you quickly swallow your fear to maintain composure. Agent Barrett walks past, turning to position himself directly in front of you again — only this time, he doesn’t crouch down to your level.

“Look at me.” He demands as he towers over you. His body language makes it clear who is in control. In the only act of defiance you have left in your arsenal, you keep your gaze laser-focused on the water straight ahead of you, refusing to give in to his instruction. Growing impatient, Barrett roughly grabs your chin. He clasps it tightly as he yanks your jaw upward, forcing you to make eye contact with him.

“You’re going to tell me about your friend, and you’re going to tell me where she is, right now," he growls.

You stare at him, disdain in your eyes. You momentarily scan your surroundings and count nearly twenty other men on the beach now. It’s enough to make your gaze and your heart sink straight to the ground.

Even if you wanted to tell him, you don't have the answers Barrett is looking for. His face hardens as your lack of cooperation and unwillingness to talk becomes clearer and clearer. Loosening his grip and dropping your chin, Agent Barrett looks at the agent next to you.

“Do it,” he orders, leaving you without another word as he walks back up the beach toward the bungalow.

The gun presses even harder against your temple and you hear the irrefutable sound of it being cocked as a bullet rolls into the chamber. Your heart is heavy as your eyes begin to well with tears. You stare out at the ocean, the night swallowing the horizon save it for the piercing glow of the moon that cuts its way through the sky down to Earth. It’s a better view than most get in their final moments, you suppose. For that, you consider yourself lucky.

Time seems suspended as you feel the ocean breeze blow past you, pouring over your skin and filling your lungs as you deeply inhale these final moments. You savor the way the salty air envelops you like the comforting embrace of an old friend. Squeezing your eyes shut, you try fighting back the tears. Despite your best efforts, one single drop escapes, racing down your cheek as you accept your fate.

Zzzzziiinnng!

Where you expect to hear the split-second ring of a gun firing before getting your brain blasted out the side of your skull, you instead hear a high-pitched whistling through the air and the unmistakable slice of a blade penetrating flesh. The weight of the gun barrel against your head slides limply away, followed by the thud of a body hitting the ground next to you.

Your eyes shoot open. You turn to see your executioner now lying dead on his back with a spear pelted through his chest. Your eyes widen in fear, then settle on the spear itself. A spear you recognize — because it’s the same one that was held to your throat only a few days earlier.

Namor.

He's here. Desperately your eyes search the ocean line, scouring the darkness for him.

"We're under attack!" Someone yells frantically from behind you. It is one of Barrett’s men.

"Open Fire! Open fire!" Another one shouts.

You immediately abandon your search for Namor, hitting the deck and covering your head as dueling bullets and spears fly over you. Hearing anguished cries from both sides, you peek out from over your arm and watch in horror as an agent a few meters away looks down at their dart-ridden chest. They drop to their knees, then fall forward onto their face.

Your head whirls around at the sound of another spear making contact with a body and dropping it to the ground. This agent is about ten meters away from you, and while your first instinct is to get the hell out of there — run as far as you can as fast as you can — you notice your little leather-bound book tucked into the belt of the lifeless body.

You tell yourself to leave it. You plead with yourself to leave it.

“Damn it,” you mutter in frustration to yourself. You are getting that book.

Before you can give it another thought, you are already army-crawling through the sand. The sound of gunfire rings in your ears as more weapons return their fire. You scramble to the body, staying low to the ground on your chest and abdomen. Once there, you reach out and grab the book, wrangling it free from the deceased man's belt. You shove it into your waistband when something behind you explodes, causing you to duck your head and shield yourself with your arms.

The battle is deafening and disorienting. The mix of adrenaline and shock threatens to override your entire system as you try to maintain your focus.

Keep moving, you tell yourself.

You lift your head, ready to run, but your breath catches and you freeze. Mere inches from your face, you find yourself staring at someone’s feet and feel the presence of their body hovering over you. You brush the stinging sand out of your eyes, pleading in your mind that this is not the end. Not now. As your vision sharpens, you feel a surge of hope. There in front of you are two winged ankles.

Your eyes shoot up. Standing above you, illuminated by the light of the moon and the rapid sparks of machine guns firing, is Namor.

He looks down at you, his stare intense as his nostrils flare and his chest rises and falls with each breath. Gripping the hilt of the spear, he effortlessly removes it from the body next to you with one pull, his eyes never leaving yours. The ongoing battle on the beach doesn’t deter his attention from you in the slightest. From behind him, a handful of armed warriors with pale blue skin come storming out of the ocean.

“Namora!” He calls, and one warrior immediately splits off from the group. While the others continue to push the team of agents to the far side of the beach, the general comes to Namor’s side and your eyes widen as you take her in. Almost unrecognizable from when you first met her, Namora is a sight to behold. Instead of weak and wounded, she now stands strong and commanding, fully outfitted in her armor of woven jade and metal. Dazzling lionfish spines adorn her head and neck, and she wears the same mesh apparatus over her nose and mouth as before. You are astounded when you squint and barely see a seam remaining where you had stitched her up.

“K'uk'ulkan.” She answers, standing at attention.

Namor’s eyes are still fixed on you. He hands the retrieved spear to Namora and then nods in your direction.

You become nervous, suddenly uncertain if the pair of them have come to you as friend or foe, watching as Namora tightens her grip around the weapon.

“Go.” Namor urges, and a wave of relief washes over you. Friend.

“Where are my goddamn reinforcements?!!” You hear someone shout into a walkie-talkie. You recognize the voice as Agent Barrett's.

“Go NOW,” Namor commands, his eyes flicking up in Barrett’s direction. The expression on his face becomes menacing as he strides past you, his muscles rigid and his pace purposeful. He pulls his own spear out of the larger agent who nearly executed you as he walks past the body, arming himself.

Without hesitation, Namora strides forward and links her arm under your shoulder, pulling you up to your feet and yanking you quickly toward the trees. Before you can reach them, however, more men dressed in black combat gear come pouring out of the thick foliage, ready to attack.

Three surround you as the others rush to provide relief further down the beach. Instead of guns, these agents come armed with batons and other blunt weapons. Namora whips you back behind her, placing herself between you and the approaching enemy. She walks toward the agents, rotating her spear in her hand. You’re surprised by how relaxed her posture is as she waits for the men, each one at least twice her size, to make the first move.

The agent to her right makes the first advance, lunging forward at Namora. She meets him with speed and ferocity, quickly sidestepping him only to grab hold of his shoulders. She uses them as an anchor to whirl herself around him, gracefully landing and her feet and then lodging her spear into his back. The man cries out in pain, but Namora quickly delivers the final blow as she twists the spear in deeper and shoves it upward toward his lungs.

No sooner does his body hit the ground when the two other men charge at her. Like a beautifully choreographed dance, Namora drops to her knees, sliding across the sand between them to duck under their attacks. As she does so, she nimbly summersaults back onto her feet and turns one hundred and eighty degrees. Back on the attack, she runs hard at them. You watch as Namora delivers a combination of charged punches to one agent, then springs back to avoid the swing of the baton from the other. To counter the move, she kicks the man above the kneecap with so much power it sends his whole leg backward and brings him to his knees. She grabs the sides of his head with both of her hands, thrusting it down hard against her knee. You feel the grisly sound of blunt broken bone deep in your core as his skull makes contact.

As the man’s head reels backward, blood pouring from his face, Namora seamlessly transitions between her two opponents, avoiding another attack from the third agent she had previously deflected with punches. Her attention back on him, she trades blows as they fight in more hand-to-hand combat. Between kicks, punches, and counter-punches, Namora strategically inches herself backward until she’s practically standing on top of the first body she dropped. Baiting her current opponent forward, she taunts him with the tilt of her head, exaggerated by her headpiece. It works like a charm. He charges at her, and swooping under him, she wraps around his chest and pulls him over the top of her, flipping him onto his back. In one calculated motion, she pulls her spear from the body of the first agent which is now easily within reaching distance, and drives it into the second.

It all plays out in front of you so quickly when the third agent with the broken nose — well, broken face, really — groans as he gets himself up, ready to have another go at Namora. She engages, but as she moves towards him you see a fourth man emerge from the trees, raising a gun to shoot.

“LOOK OUT!” You yell to warn her, but pure instinct has your feet sprinting forward to stop him.

You don’t process any thought or consider any tactic, you just hurl yourself at him. The two of you collide, crashing to the ground with all the power and momentum you can muster. You scramble for his gun and manage to knock it away, but he barrels you over him and slams your back against the ground. The impact forces the air out of your lungs, temporarily paralyzing you as you struggle for breath. The agent straddles your body, putting more pressure on your chest as he pulls a knife from his hip. With all your strength, you fight to hold his arm back. He breaks through your grasp and takes a swipe at you, but reflexively you deflect it away with your hand. The knife slices open your palm and you cry out as you try to continue pushing his arms back.

When he raises his blade again, a blur of orange lionfish spines come streaking across as Namora flies over the back of the agent and yanks him off of you. They tumble across the sand, but she quickly gains the upper hand by entangling him in a headlock. Clutching your injured hand and still struggling for oxygen, you look on as she tightens her grip around the man’s neck and then abruptly cracks it to the side.

The sound makes you sick to your stomach, but you also feel a sense of relief. And gratitude. Your chest heaves as you finally start to catch your breath, your entire body buzzing. You turn to see the dead agents Namora has so quickly disposed of, their bodies dispersed across the sand. She unwraps herself from her most recent kill and makes her way to you with haste.

As she reaches you, you hear the chaos and fighting continue further down the beach. Then, the faint sound of a helicopter approaching. Barrett’s reinforcements.

“There are too many of them,” you say in distress as you witness more agents pour out onto the sand to fight Namor’s warriors. Even if each one had Namora’s four-to-one kill ratio, they are still outnumbered. As the chopper blades get louder, Namora looks at you intensely, reaching out her hand.

“Come,” she insists.

She’s gotten you this far. You grasp her hand without hesitation and she pulls you to your feet. You edge closer to the tree line where you hope safety and concealment await you, but as you reach the lush landscape something pricks your ears. It’s not gunfire. It’s not the chopper.

Namora tugs your arm as she tries to usher you into the trees, but your focus is elsewhere. A faint, melodic breeze moves past you like a ghost, causing your mind to become hazy. As the sound grows louder, an indescribable melody rings in your ears that is both euphoric and dreadful. You don’t even notice the tension of Namora’s grip on your hand increase as your feet redirect you toward the water, compelled by its call.

“No!” Namora yells at you as she yanks your arm. The force of it snaps your attention back for a moment, and you watch as the agents who line the beach suddenly cease fighting and instead walk undeterred paths straight into the water. Terror fills you as they wade further and further out, the water coming up to their knees, then their hips, then their chests, until they are completely submerged underneath.

You shoot a glance to Namora, petrified and confused. Whatever is happening, she seems unaffected. Your thoughts and vision begin to cloud again, and you feel like someone else is controlling your body as the ocean summons you along with the others. Every part of you feels entranced by the chorus of voices in the air as their notes overwhelm your senses and leave you disoriented. Namora grabs you, practically throwing you over her shoulder as she runs into the trees. You become hard to carry, so she pulls you both into the cove of a sheltered root system at the edge of the foliage. Huddling next to you, Namora tightly wraps her arms around your head to cover your ears with her hands.

Pupils dilated, you desperately try to hold onto any shred of active consciousness before giving in entirely to the song. Your mind becomes infiltrated by it and begins to process what you see in pieces; men in the water, drowning themselves; gunfire raining down from the night sky; Namor, spear in hand, leaping into the air, taking impossible strides toward a chopper; the chopper spinning out of control.

You feel the heat against your face as the chopper crashes to the ground, exploding on impact. The last thing you remember seeing is Namor in the distance, standing on the sand. Illuminated by the raging inferno that burns behind him from the destroyed chopper, he is fierce, incredible, and terrifying.

A god. A monster.

The haunting chorus melody continues to consume your mind. Even with Namora’s help, you feel your body shift as it involuntarily attempts to get up. Namora squeezes her palms over your ears with even more strength and restrains your movements.

"No." She whispers fiercely.

You squeeze your eyes shut, covering your hands over Namora's as tightly as possible. Blood pours from your hand down hers, trickling onto your shoulder. The noise is too much, and as you feel yourself begin to scream, everything goes black.

——

Your feet drag through the cool sand.

That’s the first thing you see when you finally become conscious again. Your head hangs low in front of you, pounding as it bobs up and down. It’s still dark out, but you find your home lit up by more lanterns as you approach the pathway to your porch.

You glance to your right and left, discovering you are being assisted by two people on either side of you — Namora on your right and a much taller blue-skinned man on your left. His shoulders are wide and his head is outfitted with an armored hammerhead skull. Arms slung around both of their necks, your body is in a state of pure exhaustion as they get you up the stairs to the door.

As you start to step with your own feet, they are alerted by your recovered consciousness. Quickly, the man unhooks your arm from around him, steadying you against Namora. He retreats as you find yourself gaining feeling back in your body. Namora patiently waits for you to get your bearings, and when you do she opens the front door for you, ushering you to go inside. You follow her instruction, and there waiting for you in the bungalow is Namor.

Namor stands against your kitchen counter, the same place you stood when he first came crashing into your home. His arms are folded across his broad chest. Although his head is down, his eyes are flicked upward toward you, watching your every move. The flame of a lantern on the table glints off his irises, illuminating the dark stare that hovers just below his furrowed brow.

“Please, sit.” He says with a stern voice, his open palm gesturing toward a chair at the table.

As you sit down, you hear the front door close behind you.

Silence.

"Those men," he finally says, pushing himself away from the counter as he stands up straighter, “they were seeking information?"

You only nod, afraid to say too much.

“It’s safe to speak here. I’ve made sure of it.” He promises, sensing your reluctance to engage in conversation.

“They wanted to know about Namora." You answer cautiously.

Namor's expression grows even more serious. He subtly shifts his weight from side to side before settling back into the center of his powerful stance.

"And even with your life on the line, you said nothing."

You are unsure if he is making a statement or a question.

"Why?" He asks through a clenched jaw.

"Why?" You repeat back to him, caught off guard by the question. "Does it matter why?"

"Yes,” Namor says directly, raising his eyebrows. “Because I need to know if I put my spear through the right person.”

The seriousness of his statement hits you like a brick. Your mind flashes back to the beach, you on your knees with a gun to your head as Namor’s spear plows its way through the man next to you. How easily, you wonder, could he have changed his aim by just a few degrees if you had decided to open your mouth and spill what little information you did know to those men?

As you think about it, you also begin to ask yourself why. Why did you keep your mouth shut? Why did you help Namor and his people?

You take a deep breath as you consider your reasons, then lift your gaze to him.

“You barged into my home, broke down my door, and threatened my life. But even then, the motives behind your actions were clear — the love and concern for your people. These men,” your eyes trail away as you feel a wave of anger build up inside, "these men were driven by self-interest and self-preservation. It wasn’t hard to choose a side.”

His face is stoic as he listens to your answer.

“Plus,” you add, “I promised you I wouldn’t say anything. Twice.”

Namor looks at you the same way he did the night you met him. The look that tells you he is debating whether or not you are telling the truth. You are a witness testifying on the stand, and Namor is your judge and jury.

“Well, that is twice now you have saved my people. Again you have my gratitude." He says with a sigh, his expression softening.

You give a small smile, but it disappears when an unrelenting ache pounds inside your head, pulling you out of the moment. You reach up to rub your temple and suddenly feel a surge of pain coming from your hand, instantly reminding you of the injury you sustained from your face off against one of the agents on the beach.

“Shit,” You exclaim, pulling your cut, bloodied palm away from your face and looking at it.

"Here," Namor says, grabbing the roll of gauze off your kitchen counter as he moves in your direction. Pulling up a chair, he sits down directly in front of you so your knees are practically touching. He gestures for your hand. “May I?"

You consider his offer as you stare at the thick veins protruding from his forearm, binding themselves to his defined muscles like vines around a tree. Eyes darting back up to his, you cautiously nod your head to accept his help while simultaneously extending your arm to him.

Namor takes your injured hand gently in his own, cradling it as if it could shatter into a million pieces. Amazed by how his hand dwarfs yours, you feel a surge of energy in your chest when his thumb begins to rub along your wrist. He takes the roll of gauze and begins carefully wrapping it around your palm.

Calmly maneuvering each layer of the bandage, Namor's brow furrows ever so slightly as he slips deeper into a state of concentration. His grasp is firm but gentle, rotating your hand in tandem with the bandage and you take comfort in his touch.

Studying his face, you admire each feature and detail closely. You see the traces of salt against the rich tones of his skin, and soon your willpower gives way to a desire slowly being coaxed inside you as you allow your eyes to trail from his face to his broad shoulders, down his muscular biceps, and finally to his strong hands as they work to take care of you.

Namor begins humming softly as he continues wrapping your hand. There's a warm timbre in his voice that resonates in your ears, drawing your gaze back up to his face.

"That song..." your voice trails off as you grow more entranced by it, unable to find the words to describe its intoxicating melody. But a surge of fear runs through you as you recall another tune, the one from the beach, its haunting cadence prickling the back of your mind.

"My people have many songs," Namor says in a tone equally rich to his humming, calming you instantly. "Each one with a meaning and purpose."

"What is the purpose of that one?" You ask quietly.

Namor’s hands stop as his eyes wander up to yours.

"It's a lullaby, meant to bring the soul peace." His eyes flutter back down as he resumes wrapping the bandage around your hand. "My mother would sing it to me when I was a child."

"It's beautiful." You say reverently.

A smile spreads across Namor's face, but there's a hint of sadness in it. He leans down to your hand and you can feel your heart beat faster as his mouth hovers mere inches above your skin. The warmth of his breath rushes against your wrist, sending shivers through you. With great care, he tears the gauze with his teeth before tucking the loose end into a fold of the bandage.

"It is," he agrees, staring down at your hand which he now holds carefully between his own. "Especially in a world where peace is scarcely found."

His voice is gentle, but there is a bitterness brewing beneath the statement.

"I have spent my life ensuring peace for my people. Protecting it. Preserving it."

Namor looks back up at you, letting go of your hand as he sits up straighter in his chair. The room is quiet as his words sink in and you drop your gaze to think. As you do so, your good free hand migrates to the leather book still tucked in your waistband, your fingers fiddling with the binding.

“What is it?” Namor asks, snapping your eyes back up to his. You swallow nervously, unsure if you should share what is on your mind. Then again, you may not get another opportunity.

Slowly, you pull the book out from against your side, opening it to its marked page before pushing it across the table to him.

“You say you’ve spent your entire life protecting your people.” You preface, hesitating a moment before asking your question. “Is that... you?"

Namor stares at the book in front of him, tracing the outline of his likeness delicately on the open page with his fingertips.

"A version of me." He answers.

"How...." you rub your temple as you do the unnecessary math in your head, already knowing the hundreds of years difference between the book and the man in front of you doesn't add up. "How is that even possible? That book is centuries old, I mean," you are at a loss trying to wrap your head around it all, coming up short with any logical explanation, “who are you?"

Namor looks up at you, then his gaze descends back onto the open book. He gives a sad smirk.

“You are one of very few to ever ask who I am instead of what I am." He strokes his jaw with his thumb and forefinger. "The answer to neither of which will be found in your book." He says, shutting it and sliding it back toward you. You reach for it, only he doesn’t take his hand off the leather cover right away.

"You must always be weary of your authors.” He warns. “The preservation of one's opinion over time does not make it fact, no matter how long ago it was written."

He relinquishes his hold, you finish sliding the book back to your side of the table. Namor searches your face as his eyebrows pull closer together, a rare look of vulnerability in his eyes.

"I wear the mantle of king and am the protector of my people.” He begins. “They are my responsibility by birthright, a charge I’ve dedicated my entire life to upholding.”

Namor proceeds to tell you the story of his people — how they were driven from their home by Spanish conquistadors, and how their gods provided a remedy for a foreign disease that led them to seek sanctuary in the ocean itself. He explains that his mother was among them, pregnant with Namor at the time, and how the remedy herb altered his very being in the womb. Mutant is the word he uses, the reason for his strength and abilities, as well as his slow aging. He then describes the horrors he had seen upon returning his mother’s body to the surface world after her death, and the vow he took to keep outsiders away from his people and his beloved city he calls Talokan.

"So you see," he says leaning forward as he places his forearms on his knees, his face even closer to yours now, "I am no god. Nor am I a man. What I am is a leader who loves his people. If that makes me a monster, so be it. I will see the world burn before I subject my people to its sins and savagery.”

It’s a lot to take in. You study Namor’s expression as his stare now lingers away from you, his mind somewhere in the past. You can’t even begin to comprehend all that he has seen or experienced, but you do feel a clearer understanding of why he is the way he is. Filled with compassion for him, you cautiously reach up and cradle his face with your non-bandaged hand.

"You're not a monster." You reassure him gently.

This brings Namor’s attention back to you immediately, his dark eyes searching your face earnestly as he takes a deep breath through his nose. The bristles of his scruff are rough against your palm, creating a warm friction when he leans into your touch. Namor closes his eyes and lets out a sigh so deep it's as if he's releasing a weight from his shoulders, one that he has been carrying for far too long. His hand comes up to cover yours, pressing it deeper against his cheek.

“K’uk’ulkan,” a voice calls from behind you. You drop your hand back down to your lap as Namor glances over your shoulder. The man with the metal hammerhead skull stands at attention in the front doorway, his body so large it consumes the space entirely. Namor nods at him, then looks back at you.

"It's time," he says, pushing himself up to his feet. “More men will be coming. Namora is outside — collect what you need quickly, she will take you to a safe place.”

The realization sets in, and your heart sinks. Your home is no longer safe and you can’t stay here.

Namor offers you his hand, helping you out of your chair and onto your feet. In doing so, he pulls you into him and tucks his hand delicately under your chin. He’s impossibly close as he tilts your face upward toward his own.

"I am sorry." He whispers, a soft and apologetic tone in his voice. He gives you a remorseful look, but all you can think about is how little space currently exists between his lips and yours. Namor’s gaze flutters down from your eyes to your mouth, but the moment is fleeting as he drops his hand from your chin and takes a step back.

“Go.” He says, encouraging you to get your things. It’s his last word before walking past you and exiting out the front door.

Left alone in the empty bungalow, you make your way over to your bag still on the floor from earlier that evening. You take it and march into your room, grabbing some clothes, your toothbrush, and other small essentials. You don't have much in terms of possessions in the first place, so it doesn’t take long for you to collect what you need.

As you exit your bedroom, you get ready to leave when you look over at the small book on your table. Namor insisted it held no answers for you, but you go to retrieve it anyway, stuffing it in your bag along with the rest of your belongings.

You take one last look around your home, once an unfamiliar broken place that over time became your haven and sanctuary. It breaks your heart to leave, but you know you must.

“Thank you,” you quietly whisper to the room, hoping in some way its energy or spirit or anything can hear you. You make your final exit, walking out to the front porch just as the dawn is starting to break over the horizon. Warm hues cast shadows of orange and red across the island, and you breathe in the early morning air. As you look out across the beach, you are surprised by what little evidence remains of the night’s events. No bodies. No fires. Just large divots in the sand and some smoke along the tree line from a few singed palms.

Namora is standing at the edge of the pathway leading to your porch, waiting for you. Descending the stairs, nerves prompt you to tighten your grip on the shoulder strap of your bag as you brace yourself for the unknown.

“I’m ready,” you say when you reach her.

Namora looks at you seriously, then nods her head. Reaching up to her face, she carefully removes the apparatus from over her nose and mouth. It is the first time you have seen her whole face, unobstructed by the peculiar covering. She’s just as striking without it, and you notice a beautiful jade ring pierced through her septum, echoing Namor’s. She turns the mask in her hand and guides it onto your face, sealing it against your skin.

“Come,” she tells you, turning toward the ocean.

You take one last look back at your home, then fall into stride behind Namora as the two of you walk into the water.

-- -- --

Tag List (I think this is how you do it? Sorry if not, still figuring this whole Tumblr-thing out): @looneylikesbooks @omgsuperstarg @chixkencxrry @vainillasmil157 @demoiseller @sodonuthideout @shoutaaizawas @stany0url0calwh0res111 @hjjks @duckwithsunglasses

#namor #namor x reader #namor x you #namor x gen!reader #Namor x y/n #mcu namor #namor fluff #namor fanfiction #namor fanfic #namor imagine #k'uk'ulkan #black panther wakanda forever #namora #namor of talokan #Wakanda forever #fanfiction

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justagalwhowrites · 7 months

Note

au Joel eating Doc out as she vents about her day at the hospital watching her slowly forget about it

👁️🫦👁️

OMG Hi Bestie!

This ask was DELICIOUS OMFG and soooo Joel coded. Just so so so so so Lavender AU!Joel coded. I love him so much and I just know he's done exactly this for Doc so many times over the years. Girl works a stressful job, she needs some release, after all.

Anyway, I hope this fits what you're looking for! Thank you so much for reading and for asking for this! Love you!!

Long Day

Joel takes care of you after a hard day at the hospital. A one shot set in the universe of the Lavender No-Outbreak AU.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Lavender AU Female Reader

Warnings: SMUTTTTTT. Oral sex (F receiving), unprotected P in V sex. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only.

Length: 2.9k

Remind me again why I wanted to be chief of pediatric surgery?

Joel wasn’t surprised to get your text when he took a minute to check his phone while on a job site. You’d been up late the night before, preparing for a presentation to the hospital board to get more funding for your department. Some kind of new equipment that you desperately wanted and gushed about at every opportunity that Joel could not understand at fuck all. The curse of falling for a woman so much smarter than him, he supposed.

Because you’re nothing if not a high achiever, he texted back. What’s going on, Baby?

I hate the bureaucracy of this, you replied. One of my favorite kids came in today, her mom is beside herself, and am I with them? No, I’m walking some asshole through the surgical wing of the peds floor.

“Hey Miller!” One of the site managers called to him. “Got a question for you!”

“One sec!” Joel yelled back before he texted you back again.

Think you can make it home at a reasonable time or are they going to chain you to the desk?

Only thing that would keep me here is the inside of an OR, you wrote back. They’d better deal.

Joel smiled a little at that. Back in your residency years, he’d have resigned himself to not seeing you on days like today. He’d take care of Evie and worry that you weren’t eating enough or pushing yourself too hard or crying in the car from stress before coming inside so you didn’t freak out him or your daughter.

He’d caught you doing that once, the car parked on the street as he walked back from loaning a tool to a neighbor down the road. He was so excited to see you that it took him a moment to realize you were crying, your forehead against the steering wheel, your whole body shaking with it.

He opened the door, making you jump and start trying to dry your your eyes before he could notice.

“Hey now,” he said gently, leaning into the car with his arm propped over the door. “What’s goin’ on, Baby?”

“Nothing,” you sniffed. “Just a really really awful day, I’ll be fine, it’s fine, I’m just not used to it yet…”

Joel frowned.

“Used to what?”

“All of it,” your voice was shaky. “Just all the stress and the exhaustion and I keep getting more attached to patients than I should. I had a kid today who was in a car accident and he looked fine so I was joking with him when doing the initial exam trying to keep him calm and the next thing I know he’s crashing and we couldn’t get him back and it just really fucking sucks sometimes, Joel. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to do this…”

“Hey,” he gently reached out and cupped your face, his thumb tracing your cheekbone. “You’re the strongest person I know. You can do this. I’m sure of it, never been more sure of anything in my life. Except maybe loving you but that’s an extremely high bar.”

You laughed a wet little laugh and sighed.

“Do you still want to do this?” He asked, frowning slightly. “Because you don’t have to, Baby. Don’t care that you went to med school, you don’t have to be a doctor if it doesn’t make you happy.”

“No, I want it,” you nodded once, more to yourself than anything else. “If I’m strong enough, I want it.”

He took you inside and sent you to go shower, picking up your scrubs off the bathroom floor and putting them in the washer. He set out your favorite swimsuit and made you a frozen margarita before moving the boom box to by the pool and putting on your favorite Beatles album. He grabbed the book from your bedside table and set it next to the margarita just as you came outside, already looking more like yourself.

“Oh Babe, you didn’t have to do all this,” your hand went to your heart and, for a second, Joel was afraid you’d start crying again.

“I know,” he said. “But I wanna take care of my girl. Feeling anything for dinner? I can order Chinese or pizza or make you something?”

“Can I get Mongolian Beef?” You asked, taking a sip of the margarita. “With an obscene amount of egg rolls?”

Joel smiled a little.

“Of course Baby,” he said.

Joel took care of Evie so you had space to relax but you pulled her onto your lap and held her close while you ate, your nose buried in her hair while she told you everything about her day.

When he took you to bed, he had every intention of keeping his hands to himself. But you had a different idea. You kissed his shoulder, his neck, over his jaw.

“Baby,” he groaned. “Don’t push yourself…”

“I’m not,” you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. “Want you, want to feel you…”

He kissed you, gently at first, but your fingers knotted in his hair, pulling his mouth tightly to your own. Your hips ground against his, your breasts flush against his chest. He clutched onto you and moaned into your lips.

“Make me forget it all,” you said softly. “Please, Joel. Just for a bit.”

He moved you below him and took you slowly but firmly, like he was fucking every ounce of love he had for you, for the family you’d made together, into you until that was all that was left. There were no insane hours, no one you couldn’t save, no life or death stress. There was just you and him and how much he loved you.

The next day, he called in sick and kept Evie home from school. The three of you snuggled in bed until you needed to go to the hospital that evening.

“Thank you,” you said as you kissed him next to your car, the same place he’d found you crying the day before. “I couldn’t do this without you.”

“I’m so proud of you Baby,” he held your face in his hands. “My girl the doctor.”

After that, Joel always knew exactly what you needed after a rough day at the hospital.

He texted Ellie to see if she could go to a friend’s place for a while after school - something she was thrilled about - and he stopped by your favorite BBQ place on the way home to pick up all your usuals. He opened a bottle of your favorite French wine and had a plate ready and waiting for you when you walked in the door.

“Joel,” you smiled, coming over and dropping your forehead to his chest. He smiled a little and wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”

“Yes,” he said. He felt you laugh against him. “But don’t mind hearin’ it again.”

You vented a little over dinner and the two of you polished off one bottle of wine before you moved to the living room. Joel opened a second and put on your favorite movie and held you on the couch, his hand tracing the contours of your body as he held you close.

“Ugh, you guys are gross,” Ellie said when you didn’t bother to separate from him at all when she came in the front door.

“Love you too, Gremlin!” You called after her as she went to her room. Joel laughed.

“Why do we keep endin’ up with teenaged girls?” He asked. “That’s the hardest age but I swear we’ve had a teenaged girl in this house for 20 fuckin’ years.”

“Gluttons for punishment,” you said, a smile on your voice.

“Doin’ any better?” He asked, fingers trailing through your hair against your scalp.

You sighed.

“A bit but…” your voice trailed off. “I’m so sick of this part of my damn job. There’s only so much board member ass I can kiss before I want to throw up. I got into this to take care of kids not deal with bureaucrats, you know?”

“You are helping kids by dealing with the bureaucrats,” Joel kissed your temple and gave you a squeeze as the credits to the movie ended. “C’mon baby, let me take you to bed.”

He got up and, before you had a chance to follow, he scooped you up off the couch. You let out a little shriek, your arms flinging around his neck and he laughed a little as he carried you to bed.

“Isn’t your back getting too old for that?” You teased as he set you gently on the bed.

“More worried about my knees,” he smiled a little. “Good thing I’m married to a doctor. Damn good one at that.”

“Not so sure about that last part these days,” you sighed and he leaned over and kissed you, gently, your face delicately in his large hand. His fingers tangled in your hair and he lay you back in the middle of the bed until you were stretched out below him. He pulled his mouth ever so slightly from yours, making you whimper.

“What were you sayin’ Baby?” He asked, his nose brushing your own.

“Uh,” you closed your eyes for a second. “I… I’m not sure…”

He kissed you softly for a moment before pulling away again.

“Good.”

He kissed down your body, unbuttoning your shirt as he went, until he got to your pants. He recognized them, you called them your ass kicking pants. You wore them when you wanted the extra confidence, wanted to feel like you could take control of anything. Joel just loved the way they made your ass and thighs look. He took a moment to appreciate the view, pressing a kiss just above the waist of your pants, his eyes running up your body until they met yours.

“Tell me everything botherin’ that pretty head of yours,” he said before kissing your stomach again. Your fingers twisted in the duvet. “C’mon baby. I want to hear you.”

“I had to show around Anders, that one board member who really sucks,” you said, voice a little breathy. Joel opened your pants and hooked his fingers around the waistband of them and your panties. You whimpered.

“Why’s he suck again?” Joel asked, sitting up enough to start pulling your pants down. You raised your hips off the bed to help and he pulled the clothes over your hips.

“You know why,” you were fully panting now.

Joel did know why. That wasn’t the point.

“Remind me.”

He pulled your pants off completely and climbed between your legs, settling between your thighs. He pressed a kiss to your mound and you moaned at his touch.

“He’s all about profit,” you said, voice tense and needy. “He loves plastics because it’s a money driver, always wants them to get the newest technology, everyone else always gets the…”

You cut off with a quiet gasp as Joel pressed his tongue to your clit, licking the sensitive nub firmly. He smiled a little and kissed you there, sucking you into his mouth for a moment before licking up your seam back to your clit.

“Fuck, Joel…” you were panting below him now. His hands went to your thighs, holding them to his head.

“What else, Baby?” He asked, kissing your clit again. “Tell me every little thing making that beautiful brain of yours work overtime.”

“There’s… Um…” your head dropped back onto the bed. “There’s that clinical trial that’s starting in a few weeks…”

He slipped his tongue between your folds, the tip of him slipping into your tight hole, making you moan and your back start to arch. He pressed deeper.

“I lost… I lost a day of work on it today and…”

His nose brushed your clit and you turned your head to bury your mouth in the mattress as you fought to not cry out in pleasure. His tongue opened your tight little hole for him, stretching and reaching deep, parting your walls. You panted and your channel coated Joel’s tongue in more slick, the flavor of your passion smooth and musky and slightly sweet. You rocked your hips against him and he smiled against your mound, his tongue stretched so the tip of it brushed the soft place inside of you that he loved.

“Keep goin’, Baby,” he said, pulling his mouth from you when you’d been speechless a little too long. “Tell me all of it.”

You took a moment, gasping and panting for breath.

“I didn’t get to spend time with Kaylee and her mom, Cara, today,” you managed. “Cara gets worried and I know she trusts me…”

Your voice broke as Joel thrust his tongue and a finger inside your tight hole, pressing deep into you and finding the places that he knew made you fall apart below him. He ate at you, his nose buried in your seam, brushing up against your swollen clit, tongue working you, finger stretching you. You let out a strangled little cry as your channel grew tight around him and he moaned against your pussy, starting to rut his hips down against the mattress. But he didn’t want to distract you, this was about you forgetting, not about him. You ground your hips against his face, unable to stop yourself anymore.

He licked into you, nose working your clit, finger hooking into your inner wall until you came over him, Joel lapping up your wetness as it spilled onto his tongue and his lips.

“Joel!” You gasped, your whole body arched for a moment as you throbbed around him and then collapsed back onto the bed, the aftershocks of your orgasm still pulsing against his tongue.

He waited until your body was loose on the bed before he pulled his tongue and finger from you. He wiped his mouth on his arm and crawled up your body to where you lay, panting and pliant below him.

“What else is botherin’ my girl? He asked softly, his fingers in your hair.

“I… um…” you were breathless. “I don’t remember.”

“Good,” he said softly, leaning in slowly to kiss you gently.

He stripped off his clothes and put one of his hands against your pussy, tracing your dripping seam, while he worked his cock for a moment. He kissed you, took your hand and lined his thick cock up with your entrance and pressed into you slowly, until he was deep inside you.

“Joel,” you breathed, your eyes searching his.

“Baby,” he nuzzled your cheek, savoring the feeling of you below him and around him, how tight you were, how warm, how soft. “What do you need?”

“Just you,” you said softly.

He kissed you again and started to move inside you, slow but firm. He thrust deep inside you until the tip of him was pressing against the place inside you that made you start to tighten around him before pulling back slowly. His head caught on every ridge of muscle inside you and he savored that feeling, this part of you that felt like it belonged to him. When just his head was left in your tight, grasping sex, he thrust back in you hard, hard enough to force the air from your lungs.

“Fuck, Joel,” your hips pressed up into him as you started to tighten around him. “Joel, please…”

“Anything else on your mind, Baby?” He panted. You whimpered and shook your head quickly. “I want to be the only thing in this pretty head, want to be the only thing inside of any part of you.”

You arched into him, your fingers digging into the flesh of his back as your pussy got even tighter around him.

“That’s it Baby,” he managed, his own orgasm getting closer. “C’mon, come all over me. Come all over this cock, I’m so close Baby, want you to milk me dry, c’mon Baby…”

You buried your face in his shoulder and thrust your hips up against his as you came around him, your channel throbbing fiercely over him. He only lasted two more thrusts before he pressed himself deep and came in you, filling you with rope after rope of his spend.

Your orgasm outlasted his own, your body pulling every last drop of come from his own and he collapsed as you went limp below him. Joel rolled onto his back and pulled you with him, so you were loosely draped over his body, his cock still deep inside you. He ran his hands slowly over your back as the two of you came down from your shared high. After a moment, you pressed a kiss to his chest and he felt you smile against his skin.

“What?” He asked.

“Definitely doing better now,” you said, teasing a little. He smiled.

“Good,” he kissed the top of your head. “Gotta do whatever I can to take care of my girl the doctor.”

You laughed a little.

“You take such good care of me,” your fingers traced little paths over his chest. “Think I can do anything as long as I’ve got you, Joel.”

He smiled and rested a hand on the small of your back.

“I think so, too.”

#fanfic #kit answers #send asks #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #lavender #joel miller x oc #joel miller smut

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damn-stark · 2 months

Text

Chapter 28 A song for us

Chapter 28 of Sugar

A/N- Lowkey want some angst already 😅😂

Warning- Swearing, some angst, talks of abuse, FLUFF, talks of death, cigarettes, spoilers!! long chapter, some violence but not really, NFSW, semi-public, wrap before you tap it, a lot of kissing,

Pairing- Choso x Gojo!fem-reader, Suguru Geto x Gojo!fem-reader

Takes place during- Only the beginning of Chapter 222 of the manga

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

*SATORU P.O.V. 11 YEARS AGO*

He’s getting away.

He can’t let Suguru get away, but nothing that he said made him come back. So what can he say now? He needs to think. Think!

He’s getting lost in the sea of people, he needs to think…

Wait…

“What about my sister!” Satoru yells out with desperation as he wonders why he didn’t think of bringing you up before. “What about y/n?”

Suguru stops in his tracks and slowly turns back around to face Satoru.

“You’re just going to abandon her without an explanation?! I thought you loved her!” Satoru throws out even though he never came to like the idea of you, his little sister, and Suguru, his best friend, together. He just needs to find a way to make Suguru stay.

“I do love her,” Suguru says back without hesitation. “I’ve tried talking to her, but Shoko says your family took her. Are you really going to leave her there? How could you let them treat her the way they did?”

Satoru parts his lips to argue but he finds himself in disbelief at what was thrown at him.

How dare Suguru say that? He knows better than anyone how protective Satoru is of you. Besides, he doesn’t understand the family dynamic, it’s different from his. It’s not that simple.

“How dare you,” Satoru spats back. “How dare you accuse me of that!”

“And how dare you accuse me of abandoning y/n,” Suguru redirects a lot calmer than Satoru is right now. “I want to explain myself, I want to talk to her, but even if she wasn’t at your family home it’s not like you’d let us talk, would you?”

“Like hell, I would,” Satoru proved him exactly right, making Suguru scoff.

“That’s what I thought. That’s why I told Shoko to rely her a message for me. I couldn’t trust you to do it, you never liked the idea of us together in the first place.”

Satoru takes a big step forward and further furrows his eyebrows and can’t stop himself from spitting out his next words full of rage. “I don’t want you talking to her! I don’t want you seeing her ever again, do you understand?! Leave y/n out of this!”

Suguru swallows thickly and doesn’t make any promises, or assure Satoru of anything, he just turns around and walks away through the sea of people, leaving Satoru alone.

——

*YOU. NOW*

“What?” You probe your brother who seems to be lost in thought.

“Hm?” He probes back and looks up at you from his seat on the gurney.

“Penny for your thoughts? Or are you suffering from some kind of head trauma?” You say and lean against the bed. “That seems to be it because what makes you think you can walk into my house unannounced in the morning?” You remark and smack the back of his head.

“Your door was unlocked,” he points out. “And it wasn’t early, you were awake.”

“Yeah,” you scoff. “My door is unlocked because I forgot to lock it, it doesn’t mean it’s a sign for you to barge in, and two, it’s human decency to knock, or at least let me know when you’re going.”

Satoru doesn’t take you seriously because he snickers. “I was hoping to scare off your boyfriend. Which almost worked, did you see the look on his face? He looked like a deer caught in headlights!”

Of course, it’s his inability to be a normal brother and accept who you’re dating.

“Have you even caught a deer in headlights,” you mumble nonsense as you try not to give in to the frustration slowly boiling within you.

“Have you?” He redirects.

You cross your arms over your chest and look out the door in hopes Shoko is approaching.

But she isn’t. Typical doctor-like behavior.

“Don’t pop a vein, sis,” Satoru says and nudges your arm with his foot, making you scrunch your nose in disgust but continue listening to whatever shit he has to say.

“It’s what big brothers do.”

“Perhaps when we were teenagers,” you throw at him over your shoulder. “But we’re adults now.”

Satoru is still finding humor in this. He’s biting back a smile.

“I’m just having a hard time understanding that you love each other after nineteen days,” he remarks. “I mean I wasn't gone long for things to change that much. I mean think about it, y/n, you’re—-”

Thankfully, he gets cut off by Shoko and Ijichi just as he was growing serious.

“All your labs came in fine, Satoru,” Shoko assures him. “Your blood work is normal, and your sleep doesn’t worry me because that’s something you don’t get regardless. You’re completely sane and healthy,”

“You might want to double-check the sane part again,” you interject bitterly. “He’s anything but.”

Satoru gets you back by poking your side with his toe, so you snap back around and smack his arm. “That’s so gross,” you hiss.

Satoru approaches his other foot towards you, but you quickly step back and pull Shoko in front of you to make her act as a shield considering you don’t have Nanami or Suguru anymore to hide behind.

“Thank you for that,” Shoko mutters.

You rest your chin on her shoulder and shrug. “Better you than me.”

Shoko sighs and reaches back into the correct pocket this time to take out your pack of cigarettes.

“Why is this still full?” She asks as she pulls one out and then offers you one.

“Because I only smoke when I’m stressed,” you remind her and take your pack back instead of taking one. “Where’s yours?”

“I’ll finish yours first.”

You sigh but don’t argue, you just light her cigarette with your fire after you put your pack away, and then pull away to sit beside Satoru on the gurney.

“Damn,” Satoru mumbles. “So it’s just the three of us left.”

“Well, there’s that idiot left,” Shoko reminds him of Suguru.

But it’s not like it’s actually him. It’s just his body. Suguru is gone...

“That’s true,” Satoru agrees and then sighs as he drops his head. “I always thought Nanami was the type that would survive one way or the other.”

“Sorry,” Ijichi catches you all by surprise.

“Why are you apologizing?” You quickly press in utter confusion.

“Nanami is dead so why are you still breathing is how that sounded to me, so—”

“Just how low is your opinion of me,” Satoru thankfully cuts him off. “Ijichi, you still have a monumental task to perform, right? Make sure to give it your all.”

“Yeah,” you pitch in to assure Ijichi. “Don’t put yourself down Ijichi. You’re one of us. Just as Nanami was.” You smile and the timid man nods in comprehension as he hides a shy smile by looking down.

“On the topic of Nanami,” Shoko interjects and drifts your attention to Ino walking over. “It seems like Ino has something to say to us.”

You pay close attention to what Ino has to input about your best friend and his mentor. Which doesn’t take long, but the topic still brings you down and reminds you that no matter what you saw, he should still be here. He deserved to live out his dream.

“Before you get swarmed by people,” Satoru pulls you back into the room after Ino, Shoko, and Ijichi left. “I'm going home tomorrow. I want you and Satori to come with me.”

You know exactly what he’s referring to, he wouldn't have said anything otherwise, but you can’t take this so lightly.

“You scared to sleep alone or what?” You tease him, but he doesn’t laugh because he knows what you’re doing.

“I’ll be there the entire time,” he tries to assure your fear. “And it’s not like they can push you around anymore. You’re stronger now. You’re an adult.”

He doesn’t get it, but why would he? He was coddled, he was their perfect son who could do nothing wrong, while you were their second child, a daughter who could never be good enough. He doesn’t get your reluctance even now as an adult.

“I’ll take Choso then,” you try to make it better for you.

“No,” he quickly puts you down and just makes your refusal to accept that much easier. “No boyfriend. It’s family business. They need to see that you’re as much part of the clan as you were then. And they need to see who will lead them after me. I won’t hide her, nor do I want her to fear them.”

“Then you take her alone,” you try to pull yourself out even if it means having Satori go without you. “I’m not going back.”

“You’ve been back,” he quickly brings up your rendezvous that happened 8 years ago.

“It was different,” you quickly counter. “Plus what if you have kids of your own down the line, what would be the point of presenting her to them.”

“That’s doubtful,” he argues. “But that’s beside the point, you won’t make her go alone will you?”

You glare at him and spat. “Don’t use her. Don’t you dare.”

“Y/N,” he cuts in. “It’s just one day. Just for an hour or two.”

“I have a date tomorrow,” you tell him. “I can’t. You can’t make me.” You raise your voice as your fear and anxiety start to heighten.

“You have a date all day?” He mutters in annoyance.

“Does it matter?” You hide the fact that it’s in the afternoon. “I said—”

“You can’t hide from them forever, it’s time to face them and make peace,” he tries his best to comfort you. “Show them they can’t hurt you anymore, and present your daughter, show them that they won’t take her away or hurt her because you and I won’t let them.”

Tears well in your eyes and you whisper. “You promise?” You sound like that scared little girl all over again. “Promise they won’t hurt her or—or me. Promise me Satoru.”

Your brother grabs your shoulders and nods. “I swear.”

You’ll never be comforted, but you give in to try and do what he said. To prove to them that you’re everything they thought you wouldn’t be. “Fine, but we leave no later than 1 pm, I have a date that day.”

Satoru scoffs in displeasure but he doesn’t say a thing about it. “Fine,” he says. “I’ll pick you up in the morning.”

He pulls his hand away and opens the door for him to walk out first before letting you follow.

“You better be there in time Satoru or I will not go,” you scold him. “Do you understand?”

He snickers. “Yeah, yeah.”

Yeah, yeah, turns to an hour late, or two. For his sake that better not be true.

“Did you meet the new sorcerers yet?” Satoru swiftly changes the subject as you walk towards your students, child, and Choso, and he follows. “From what I’ve been told they’re an impressive lot.”

“Yeah,” you scoff with a smug smirk. “It seems Kenjaku really screwed himself over considering that they’re helping us now.”

Satoru then snorts and as you steal a glance at him you see a malicious look on his face. “I applaud his dedication.” He snickers like a child. “He chose to be screwed to have a child.”

“Eww,” you groan and push him away. “You’re so gross, why did you have to put that image in my head?”

“We’re adults, we can talk about that,” he remarks sassily.

“That’s not the problem here, I don’t want to hear about Kenjaku’s sex life,” you grumble. It’s like hearing about a parent's or a grandparent's affairs, it’s gross and unnecessary information.

Yet your brother doesn’t see it that way, he seems to find joy in the topic and claps loudly. “Yeah I get it, I mean he’s, like, what? Your father-in-law, slash rival, slash hijacker of your husband's corpse.”

“He’s just my rival,” you correct. “Choso and I aren't married.”

“When do you think he’ll propose? I mean, watch out he might get on his knee on your first date,” he teases. “Talk about a deal breaker.”

You roll your eyes over to him and press him a glare, letting him see that you have no protest or attempt to argue about what he thinks is a bad idea.

“Wait,” he slowly loses that amusement on his face and tone. “You wouldn’t say yes, would you? That’s ridiculous. You just met the guy—”

“I didn’t say anything,” you cut him off before you get pissed off. “And he wouldn’t. Just lay off him okay?”

You walk off as you approach who you’re looking for, causing him to come to a stop and watch with growing disdain as you fall by Choso’s side.

“So are you two ready to train?” You tell Kirara and Hakari. “I'm off sabbatical and!” You point at your boyfriend before he could even think of protesting. “No one can say a thing because it’s the doctor's orders, so I’m ready when you are.” You grin excitedly.

Kirara nevertheless lets out a deep sigh and looks at you with pity before they share a glance with Hakari, and then a nervous glance with Choso.

“What?” You probe and start to frown. “What’s wrong?”

“We’re going to take Choso shopping,” they let you know, and your joy turns to beaming excitement.

“No way, that sounds cool, do we leave now?”

Hakari shakes his head and throws his arm around Choso’s shoulders. “No, it’s just us three.”

You frown and immediately pass Choso a confused and soft pleading look so he can reconsider. “What? Come on.”

“We won’t be gone long,” Choso interjects now and holds eye contact without breaking under pressure to your batting lashes.

“But—”

“No, sorry Master,” Kirara quickly rebuttals. “Next time?”

You look at the three of them and narrow your gaze to a pointed glare as you try to figure out what they’re up to since you can’t tag along. But Kirara and Hakari have a poker face, and Hakari is especially good at those. And Choso…he’s good, he manages to keep their secret and instead approaches you to take you by the arms and assure you…he’s trying to assure you…tsk.

“We’ll be back soon, my love. They’re just going to help me pick something for tomorrow. I can bring you something, anything.”

You try to fight it, but the offer is too tempting, so you give in like a sucker. “Maybe some desserts, like Mochi. Or something like Caramel popcorn, or some Daifuku. Something sweet.”

Choso laughs softly and nods. “I’ll bring it all to you.”

You grow flustered and can’t help but lean in for a deep kiss as if he were a soldier off to war.

It’s just the first time you’ll be apart for a long period since you met. It feels weird not having him close now.

Which you have to admit sounds pretty ridiculous, but maybe it’s your honeymoon stage, or all the trauma you've both been through, or the fact that you’re so overly attached to each other, but you just don’t like the idea of being so far apart…

So maybe it’s just your own trauma and fears…

“Do you need money?” You ask considering he doesn’t have an income.

“No,” he quickly retorts. “The only good thing Noritoshi did before he revealed who he really was, was give us money. I haven’t used it so I have plenty of it. Don’t worry about me.”

You sigh and can’t help but smile teasingly as you wrap your arms around his neck and trace a circle on the back of his neck. “Okay, and if you get a message from me saying how much I miss you don’t come running. I just don’t want you to forget about me.”

Choso shoots you a pointed look and quickly rebuttals. “Impossible. I’ll try not to take long.”

You smirk and lean in to whisper in his ear. “If I send you a photo later make sure not to open it in public, okay?”

You hear Choso swallow thickly and feel his body stiffen with surprise. “All right,” he assures you nervously.

You pull back and flash him a teasing smirk before you press a peck on his lips. He doesn’t think that’s enough to send him off so he steals an open mouth kiss from you that you try to fuel with more desire, but he’s suddenly yanked back by Hakari.

“Neither of you are going off to war just yet, we need to head out.” He scolds you two, making you giggle and wave goodbye at Choso as he’s guided away without falter now.

When you return your attention to the rest of the room, the first thing you spot is Satoru wrapping the black scarf Satori made him.

“You’re like a little old lady now, Sugar,” he tells her sweetly as she’s beaming at him for not hiding the scarf she made with her own two hands. “Where’s my sweater and my gloves?”

Satori sighs. “Well, Belinda’s mom only taught me to knit a scarf. A sweater is too hard. And I couldn’t make you gloves because I don’t know how big your hands are.”

You laugh softly as you watch them from afar.

“I heard you need a sparring partner,” someone’s voice in your ear startles you.

“What?” You gasp and spin around to face your intruder with a glare.

“Oh, it’s you,” you mutter at Kashimo. “I know you’ve been dead, or in the state of limbo for like a thousand years, or whatever, but it’s not proper to creep up on women anymore. You know?”

He looks at you unamused and just simply presses you. “Do you want to do this or not?”

You really have nothing else to do since your students and your boyfriend are gone. Plus you really are curious about his fighting style.

“Fine,” you sigh, “but we’ll have to take this outside.”

He scoffs. “Obviously.”

You roll your eyes and start leading the way out. However, before you can leave the building you finally spot someone you’ve been waiting to meet, the lawyer!

Thus you depart from your set path and approach him with a smile, causing Kashimo to groan and wait for you with his arms crossed by the door.

“You must be Hiromi Higuruma,” you greet him sweetly. “I’ve been waiting to meet you since all I’ve heard from the students is how great you are. I’m Y/N Gojo.”

Higuruma holds your gaze as he narrows his dark eyes on you. He doesn’t smile, but you don’t expect him to, since Itadori says he’s like Nanami, serious, and hard to make smile.

“Yes,” he mutters nonchalantly. “I’ve heard about you. Aren’t you royalty or something?”

You share a small laugh and shake your head. “No, not at all.”

“Hm. But you are that killer right?” He doesn’t fear to spit out, making your smile fall right away. “The annihilator who has massacred innocent villages with her technique?”

Now all that curiosity to get to know him disappears. And all you’re left with is annoyance and cynical humor.

“You’re the one the older sorcerers call the fallen right? You’re her.”

He wants to push you? You won’t push back, nor will you crumble under the pressure of his judgment, no matter if he’s some lawyer, or whatever the hell he is. You’ll spit fire right out.

“What?” He asks with his eyebrows slowly furrowing as you start to laugh. “Is their suffering funny to you? Where’s your mercy?”

You smirk and then lean closer to him, making him look at you weirded out.

“What I did, I did for the good of my people,” you sneer coldly. “For the good of my children, and the future generation of sorcerers. Not that you would know of our suffering, or the way your beloved non-sorcerers treat my people and create the mess we have to kill for them. So if you’re looking for sympathy or a way to tear me down with “my crimes,”, I wouldn’t waste my breath if I were you. I believe in justice, I got justice. And I’ll do it again.”

Higuruma deepens his glare, but you just offer him a sweet smile and a sweet goodbye.

“Have a good day. I’ll see you around.” You wave at him and at last, join Kashimo outside.

“Are you ready, Gojo?” Kashimo finally gets to ask. “The first one to step out of the circle...” He pauses and points at the drawn-up circle around the both of you. “Loses.”

You stretch your arms and huff. “Sounds simple enough. And just so you know I won’t pull back.” You let him know.

He snickers as he swings his staff around in his hand to then point one end at you. “I never expected you to. And please don’t give into your humanity if you ever manage to hit me. Fight like a sorcerer or don’t fight at all.”

Oh well, someone's suicidal.

Nevertheless, you flash him a smirk before you drag one foot back and position yourself in a fighting stance that works best when using all your elements—Which is something you will do in this case, even if it is merely training.

However, from one moment to the next but without actually surprising you, Kashimo makes the first move by shooting a lightning strike at you from his staff.

It moves fast as expected, but you manage to actually duck it by swiftly spinning below it. When it gets past you you notice he can’t redirect it back to you, so it hits the tree behind you and cracks it in half.

“My turn,” you mutter before you pull water down from the sky, and manipulate the wind to spin around you as you quickly stand back to your given height. You then mix the water with the spinning air and shoot it out towards him like a fast-twisting cyclone.

Yet he swings his staff so fast that he breaks the cyclone in half and causes it to splash all around him. He then tries to overwhelm you and lunges forward to now shoot lightning from himself rather than the staff.

But from what Hakari told you he doesn’t have an unlimited amount of strikes, he needs to charge his lightning, so after this, he’ll continue with hand-to-hand.

Hm.

Fine, then you won’t duck it this time. Instead, you stomp your foot on the ground, causing a thick body of water to explode out all around you. You then flow the water up like a growing wave with elegant movements of your arms and let the lightning strike hit the water, which slows it down and starts to break it down. So before it can get out you shove the wave toward him.

Kashimo is clever though, he jumps high and flips over the wave. However, you can redirect your elements, you don’t have a limit, so as you spin around him to be across from him again and avoid being hit, you twist the water back around and manage to hit him right on his chest so hard he’s thrown back.

Yet as he gets close to the edge of the circle he manages to slide to a stop inches away from the line.

“How fun,” he mumbles smugly and doesn’t miss a beat, he moves towards you, but you have the advantage and the luck of not holding back, so you swing your arm and hit him with a wind slash.

Nonetheless, that’s what he needed to get close. Even if the slash hurts his torso, he gets close enough to surprise you with an uppercut to your jaw using his elbow. He then counters by swinging his staff over your knees, causing you to be shot with blinding pain as they both break. When he sees you hit the ground he pulls his staff back in an attempt to throw you out of the circle.

However, you ignore the pain and bask your arm with fire before you smash your fist into the ground and seep the flames in the dirt. You then quickly make the earth and fire burst out like a beautiful natural explosion that throws Kashimo back and makes him laugh when he hits the ground.

Because of course, he’s laughing after being hit, he’s an adrenaline junky.

“I charged up my lightning before just for you, Gojo” he shares as he pushes himself up and wipes blood off his lips and nose.

You flash him a smile as you heal your knees and slowly stand up. “Aw, you were thinking of me? How cute.” You taunt and make the dragon mark glow brightly as you prepare to attack, while lightning sparks around his hand before he points two fingers at you and shoots his beautiful lightning.

You’re prepared though and reveal a technique. “Elemental manipulation; Fire dragon.”

A large snakelike dragon made of red-orange flames blasts out of both of your palms and only grows large enough to counter Kashimo’s attack. It could grow bigger, but for now, you make it small to just blast fire out at the lightning bolt.

However, the lightning travels past the cursed energy killing flames, and hits the fire dragon through its mouth. But instead of traveling through the body of flames like Kashimo thought, the fire dragon does its job and kills the lightning strike. Instead of disintegrating the bolt like you thought, the lightning strike kills the fire dragon as well. They cancel each other out, causing a bright and beautiful explosion of fire and electricity that blinds you and Kashimo with its mix of bright blue and orange hues before the incredible force throws you both back.

Yet not enough to get either of you out of the fight. You both get close, triggering you to come up with a last move to determine the winner once and for all.

So without wasting any more time, you use the wind and shoot up to float in the sky, and Kashimo hits the end of his staff on the ground and shoots a bolt of lightning into the sky.

You proceed to manipulate large bodies of wind to pick up in speed and gather around you, causing the entire sky to darken and rumble as if an eerie disastrous storm approached. While Kashimo’s one bolt turns to a storm of lightning that crackles and shows flashes of your intimidating figure before you land on the ground so hard that a crater forms under your feet.

That same wind you aggravated flows down and starts forming a large orb over your fingertips pointed to the sky. Water you had so carelessly left abandoned rises off the ground and mixes with the orb made of wind. And to avoid causing any more destruction you avoid bringing the other elements into this, you leave this to the work of the gusting wind, and the surging water.

Thus to finally end this training spar, you blast the orb at Kashimo, and he shoots his lightning at you at the same time. And to try and avoid being hit you both try to swerve, but both of your attacks are too grande, from one moment to another you’re both hit and thrown back several feet.

One of you is drenched and coughing out the water invading their lungs as they heal all the deep cuts they suffered because of the wind's sharp gusts. While the other is basically seizing because of the lightning circulating their body. But one thing neither of you are, is upset. Once the lightning passes out of your body and you’re catching your breath on the ground, you’re the one that laughs now, and Kashimo, well he doesn’t regret wasting his time training with you.

Maybe he isn’t as bad as you painted him out to be. Is he still annoying? Yes, but…you had fun using your elements, it’s usually so hard displaying them at the level you used them today because of how destructive they can be to your surroundings and a person. But you didn’t need to hold back with him, so it was fun.

“I had fun,” you share as you get up to your feet.

Kashimo was already walking away, but stops and faces you. When you approach him you flash him a smile.

“Thanks.”

His eyebrows furrow and he shoots you a pointed look, but he sighs deeply and interjects. “You didn’t hold back…I see now where your student learned his determination and need to give his all.”

You grin and take that as a compliment. “Let’s do it again,” you suggest and walk away with your phone in hand, not realizing everyone inside the building was watching until you get close to the windows.

“Nice fight!” Takaba yells loud enough so you can hear him from inside.

You offer him a soft smile before you beam as you spot Satori on Satoru’s shoulders clapping proudly.

However, before you can acknowledge anyone else your attention is stolen by Choso’s message on your phone.

Choso: The sky got dark and we heard loud explosions. Your students refuse to turn back, is everything okay?

What a cute worrywart.

You: Just training with Kashimo, don't worry lover ;)

You send that first and then smirk as you follow up with something flirty.

You: Did you know lips could get lonely? I didn’t until now as my lips miss yours.

He takes a while to respond, but you know it’s not on purpose, you did your job. You got him flustered.

Choso: I’ll be back soon. Let’s hope this ache doesn’t kill us both.

You giggle and feel your heart skip a beat as you grow flustered too.

Choso: Oh and Kashimo?

He sends after, but you don’t feed his jealousy, you simply brush him off.

You: xoxo

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

It’s weird being back in your childhood home, especially side by side with your brother. It’s like stepping back in time when all you were was the second child, the scared daughter, and nothing more.

Sure you came back before, when you were 20, but that was different, and you were still young and stupid then. You’re old now, mature, stronger, a mother, a widow, and reunited with Satoru.

Not like it all actually matters when you come face-to-face with your father though. Because the moment your eyes met his, you felt like his fearful and immature daughter all over again. You can’t look him in the eyes even if you’re the one who has the high ground as you stand by Satoru.

“You have come back home to us, Clan Leader,” your father's voice brings you chills as he talks to Satoru.

“Hm.” Satoru hums and makes no effort to make this meeting professional. He doesn’t sit in his designated seat, or care to pay mind to the rest of his clan bowing to him. He’s not even wearing traditional clothing like Satori and you—But you blame that on his laziness rather than lack of care since you won’t be here long at all, and he and Shoko are taking Satori to the amusement park.

“All thanks to my sister,” Satoru lies. It was a group effort. “She basically died to get me back.”

You don’t give away your annoyance or the fact that he wasn’t telling the truth, you keep your composure and slowly raise your eyes off the ground to face them all, every single clan member gathered in this room. Not with that timidness you would face your clan before, there’s no innocent gleam in your eyes anymore. Your fire-kissed eyes basically set the room ablaze with your cold sinister glare—Even when you look at your father who still intimidates you.

“But it’s not why she’s here,” Satoru adds with amusement. “As some of you may know, she was never disowned. So this isn’t some announcement to lift a ban that was never on her, it’s more…to say that she will be an active member once again because of my chosen heir. Satori Geto. Her daughter.”

Satori balls the material of your sleeve as she grips onto your arm and hears the whispers spread around the room as some interest are sparked at the sound of the name Geto. While others look disgusted that Satoru points at a girl.

“Does the girl have cursed spirit manipulation?” Your father asks for himself and the other curious members.

“No,” Satoru brings their hopes down and makes your father immediately uninterested in his granddaughter.

“But she’s still a Gojo,” Satoru adds. “And since I don’t have children of my own, she’s the one set to inherit my title and everything that comes with it, as well as everything I own.” He smirks and rubs Satori’s head. “And it’s not up for discussion either if you have a problem,” his voice suddenly grows serious. “Deal with it, or if you’re feeling ballsy come face me. Got it?”

As improper as he just shared that, people still wouldn’t dare oppose him. Not because he’s their leader, but because of the power and strength he wields.

“All right everyone may go,” Satoru sounds relieved to end this meeting even if he didn’t address the very big fact that the Zen’ins are extinct except for Fushiguro and Maki, which bears the question, which other strong sorcerer clan will take their spot in the big three. You know it’s not really up to him, but he’s the clan leader and he still needs to address that problem and so many others, so the meeting was far from over.

Then again, whereas Satoru loves teaching and guiding the next generation of sorcerers, he doesn’t have much patience for all this. He relishes in the power the family name brings him, the money, in his technique, and how strong he is, but he never cared for his title as clan leader. Which leads you to wonder what you would have been like as a clan leader if you were given the privilege to have that title, and your clan weren't misogynist.

You unexpectedly turned out like the rest of them and don’t harbor any love for non-sorcerers, you’re more proper than Satoru is, you’re more responsible, and don’t think being a leader is a burden. You’re everything your parents wanted in their heir.

“Where should we take Satori first?” Satoru asks with excitement.

You peel your eyes away from your father's retreating figure and look at them with a feigned smile. “Why don’t you two go ahead I want to go see something else first.”

Satoru is about to tag along but he manages to detect the trouble behind your eyes and lets you have your time. “All right, but we’ll catch up. Come on, Sugar, I’ll show you some real cool stuff.”

Satori doesn’t argue, she leaves you to watch her and her Tiger cursed-spirit follow at Satoru’s side with excitement. It’s only once they’re both out of view that you walk over to your room.

You don’t expect it to still hold what you left behind. Your room is probably empty and everything you once owned was probably burnt by your parents or cousins, but you just have that urge to at least get near that door. It won’t take away the trauma you endured, but you’ve gotten this far, it’ll heal some of that pain your young self was left with.

Nevertheless, when you do reach that door you bring yourself to open it and find that you're walking into the past. Everything is like how you left it, it’s all untouched and dustless.

It makes you cry. You didn’t want to, but you can’t stop the tears, or that ache from turning to sharp paralyzing pain even if you had let go of that young girl long ago. And even if it’s all unrecognizable to your eyes, seeing everything as if you never left hurts a part of your soul.

It’s why after standing in silence for a few minutes you need to at least hear the voice of the man you love since you couldn’t bring him to provide you with the comfort you needed.

“Hello?” Choso answers after the first ring. “Y/N is everything okay?” He asks right away since he knew you didn't want to come after he let you rant last night about Satoru basically forcing you.

“I’m fine,” you whisper before you throw yourself on your bed and continue. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

There’s a moment of silence, but you know it’s because Choso is blushing.

“I want to show you something,” you fill the silence and pull your phone away from your ear to click on the FaceTime button. And when the screen clears all you see is the inside of your boyfriend's ear. “Cho,” you chuckle. “Pull your phone back.”

“Oh,” he breathes out bashfully and then lets you see his handsome face.

“Look,” you squeal and show him a picture of you and Satoru when you were 6 and he was 7. “It’s little me and my brother. We were wearing coordinating Yukata’s.”

Choso smiles softly before he squints his eyes to look at the picture better. “I forget the eye color you have now isn’t the one you were born with.”

You turn the photo to look at yourself and muster a grin. “It’s crazy, isn’t it? I tend to forget now too. But anyway,” you breathe out and put the photo away to give him all your attention. “I came to my room and it’s the exact way I left it. There’s no dust or anything. The clothes are the only thing that’s gone, but everything else is the same; even my beloved Legolas posters.” You smirk proudly and admire your first-ever fictional husband.

“Hm…was it your brother?” Choso chooses to ignore you fawning over fictional men to ask what you were wondering too.

But, you have to believe it’s your brother. You don’t want to get your hopes up and think it was your mother.

“I think so,” you give your opinion quieter and with your smirk falling to a frown. “But it’s still strange. It’s been 11 years.”

“Yeah but you didn't stop being his sister,” he says softly.

“Yeah…I suppose.”

Choso frowns through the screen as he sees your deep frown and conflicted gaze, wishing from where he is that he could be there to hug you like he knew you wanted.

“Where are you?” You change the subject to avoid ending the call. “Are you still at home?”

“Oh, no, I came with Yuji. I’ll be here until it’s time for our date.”

You smile giddly and probe. “So you’re going to pick me up then?”

Choso smiles sweetly. “Of course, I won’t be the one driving because I can’t, but yes I will pick you up.”

Your heart swoons and before you can respond with something sweet two of your cousins walk into your room with glares they think are intimidating.

“Oh, Choso, honey, I’ll text you when I leave this place, all right?”

He doesn’t need to be with you to know that something unwelcoming appeared because he knows you in more ways than one. He sees the way your eyes focus past the phone and hardens to a glare.

“Is everything all right?” He asks with concern.

You flash him an assuring smile and nod. “Yep. Everything is all good. I’ll see you later.”

Before he can respond you hang up the phone and swing your legs over the bed to stand on your feet and look at your cousins with a smirk and a pointed glare.

“It’s stupid for you to show up here again,” one of them spats while they ball their fist.

You choose to be a tease and count them to point out the missing triplet. “You’re an incomplete set, what happened to the third?”

The second one seethes and steps forward with their jaw clenched.

“You’re a kinslayer,” the first one snaps at you as if that’s supposed to offend you.

“That term is outdated by a couple of centuries, don't you think?” You taunt them and strut forward to be close to them.

“You think you’re funny?” The second one rebuttals and takes a step towards you. “You killed our brother—”

“He came at me first,” you cut him off smugly and omit the rest of the story because it’s too long for right now. “I was in front of the fireplace and he attacked. I countered, but not because it was self-defense…” you trail off and snicker. “It was justice. The friends with him played with fire and got burnt.”

The first one grinds his teeth and gets his fist ready to try and attack.

Which is so adorable that he thinks he can hurt you.

However, he’s interrupted by your brother. “Do we have a problem here Akeno, Atsushi?”

Both men immediately back down, and that only makes your smirk that more taunting.

“No,” The first one, Akeno, mutters as he pierces his glare at you. “Clan leader.”

Atsushi shoots you one last rageful glare before he follows his brother out of your room.

“They weren't at the welcoming meeting,” you interject casually when it’s just Satoru, Satori, and you. “Will you punish them, “oh great leader”?” You mock him and walk back to sit on the edge of your bed

“No,” Satoru lets out with a sigh as he walks in.

“Is this your room mommy?” Satori asks with excited wonder.

“Yeah, take whatever you want,” you tell her and let her snoop around your room to get to know who you were when you were a teenager.

“What was that about?” Satoru refers to your cousins as he stops to admire the pictures on a picture board that hands on your dresser.

“Oh you know.” you shrug nonchalantly. “They’re mad because I broke their set.”

And he knew that.

“Was this…you?” You refer to your room.

“Nope,” he reveals causally, causing you to grow rigid and shocked. “It was mother. She refuses to clean out your room.”

Oh….

Oh.

This isn’t good for your already aching heart. This only perplexes you.

“Why?” You let out in a broken whisper.

Satoru looks back at you as if the answer isn’t obvious. But it isn’t to you. You thought she hated you for being weak, and for who you turned out to be.

Why doesn’t she hate you?

Hating her would be so much easier if she did.

“Where is Mother?” You ask curiously. “She wasn’t at the gathering either.

Satoru lets out a deep breath before he turns to face you. “Mother is sick. She’s been sick for a while now, but after I was imprisoned she got worse.”

You push yourself off the bed and can’t help but look at him with a pointed glare. “She’s sick? Why didn’t you tell me anything?”

Satoru rests his hands on his hips and shrugs nonchalantly. “I didn’t think you’d care.”

You part your lips to speak, but nothing comes out in your confusion. It’s like a part of you is upset that he didn’t at least mention something, as well as worried for the mother who bore you. But then another part of you can’t gather that much will to care either.

“She’s my mother,” you whisper and begin to gnaw on the tip of your nail. “Can…” you shouldn't, but you also want to. “Can we go see her?”

Satoru hesitates as he waits for you to change your mind, but when your head doesn’t rise to take your request back, he gives in. “Yeah, she’s here.”

You let out a deep sigh and nod slowly before you look over at your daughter snooping through photos on your vanity. “Come on Satori, let's go.”

The girl swipes something from the vanity and then runs after Satoru and you as you walk out of your room.

“Look, Mom,” she whispers excitedly and shows you the picture she snatched of Suguru and you when your relationship was very new—“it’s you and Daddy. And you had pink hair.”

You genuinely smile at the picture and nod before you give her some insight. “Yeah, we took that on his birthday. He came to meet my parents.”

Satori looks at the picture in complete awe for a long time before she carefully tucks it into her pocket.

“Do you like the grounds so far, Chipmunk,” you probe. “It’s changed a lot since I lived here, but this was still my home. Do you like it?”

“Of course, there's been remodeling,” Satoru cuts in teasingly. “A couple of years ago a section of our house burnt down.”

You smirk at the mention and press your daughter.

“Well.” She shrugs. “It’s nice, it’s very big, but guess what! Your dad has the same eye color you once had.”

You frown but hide your discomfort. “You met my father?” You ask and burn your glare on the back of Satoru’s neck so he knows you’re displeased.

“Yeah, he was nice to me even if he looks very mean.”

“She met father?” You ask your brother now in an agitated way that Satoru detects, but he does not take you seriously.

“Yeah, we ran into him, he didn’t chat much so don’t worry,” he brushes you off, even if him not telling you before is pretty upsetting.

However, since Satori is here you don’t pick a fight, you just exhale deeply and let it go. Besides, you then arrive at your mother's quarters.

“We’re going to meet grandma,” Satoru announces excitedly. “Is. That. Okay?” He pronouncates each word because he thinks he knows what’s grinding your gears, but he doesn’t have a damn clue and it only works to piss you off.

“Of course,” you sass him between gritted teeth. “I wouldn't be here if it wasn’t.”

“Hm. Just making sure.” He flashes you a smile and then walks in the room so casually, but you can’t match the beat of his drums, you stay frozen past the entrance and dig your nails in the palm of your hands as you try hard not to storm off this property.

“Mommy, are you okay?” Satori’s sweet voice snaps you from your stupor.

Through all the haze in your head, you didn’t even notice she had stayed behind with you rather than following her ever-so-beloved uncle.

“Oh,” you breathe out and assure her with a smile. “Yes. I’m fine.”

She’s like a breath of fresh air much needed in this suffocating place that lets you push yourself just enough to step inside but stop nonetheless behind a delicate wooden divider that blocks the sight of your mother, and of you to her. You only hear her voice as she speaks to Satoru.

“I was so worried I’d never see you again,” she’s basically weeping to him.

“Do you really think they could beat me?” Satoru tries to comfort her through the pain that’s so easily detectable in her voice.

“Y/N saved me,” he still omits the truth. “That’s why I'm here.”

“Y/N?” She asks, but you can’t make out what she feels this time, but you also don’t want to know. “Where is she?”

“She’s here. She’s in this room, but first, Mother, I want you to meet someone,” he says excitedly before you hear his footsteps approach.

“Will you come with me?” Satori asks as she knows what’s about to come.

But you can’t face your mother yet. You only faced your father because he was there amongst the ones welcoming Satoru, but your mother is different and you haven’t been able to build the strength to face her yet.

“Your uncle will be with you,” you hate to turn your daughter down. “I just need a minute.”

Satori pouts, but she doesn’t argue, she doesn’t understand why you’re acting so strange either, but she doesn’t question you. When Satoru appears she just easily finds comfort by holding his hand instead before he walks her behind the divider to show her off to your mother.

A mother you can’t see the face of when Satoru returns to her with a little girl holding his hand, a mother's breath you hear hitch when you hear their footsteps halt by her bed, and a mother you hear move before she asks a question with a gentle laugh.

“Is she yours?”

“No,” Satoru chuckles. “She’s y/n’s.” He announces and you hear silence from her end.

“Mother, this is Satori Geto, y/n’s daughter.” Your brother adds, and you hold your breath to hear her reaction better.

Yet there’s not a thing uttered until you hear Satori break the silence very shyly. “Hello.”

“Satori,” Satoru adds. “This is Junko. Your grandmother.”

“Your name means enlightenment,” you finally hear your mother address your daughter. “Just like Satoru’s. Actually, you have very similar names.”

“My Daddy chose my name,” Satori loves to share that piece of information.

“Hm, well he chose a perfect name,” your mother says…sweetly. You hear the honey oozing off her voice.

“Thank you,” Satori whispers.

Your mother then musters a laugh before she reminisces. “Your mother used to cling onto your uncle just like that when she was a little girl too, you know?”

The corner of your lips twitch to a smile but you don’t let it spread, you just start to gnaw on your nails again.

“Really? Was she my age?”

“How old are you?” Your mother asks.

“6,” Satori reveals with a bit more confidence now.

“Ah, then yes. Do you have a brother or a sister, little Satori?” Your mother is curious to know since Satori is the only one she sees before her

“Hm, I had two older sisters, but they’re dead,” Satori shares so casually, making your mother not respond right away this time. She’s quiet for a moment that lets Satoru finally excuse themselves.

“Well, I think we should get going. Y/N and I have things to do. I just came to let you all know I’m back and introduce this one to the clan.” He’s so dismissive and not at all as polite as he should be.

Not like you actually care when it comes to your parents, he just could have dismissed himself a lot differently.

“Oh I thought you would stay longer,” your mother interjects. “But I suppose duties call. It was an honor meeting you little Satori, I hope you come again. Perhaps I can have something to give you then.”

And she’ll love that.

“Really?” Satori asks as you expected, excited. You can practically hear her grinning.

“Yes. Just come again.”

“I will!” Satori exclaims. “Goodbye, Grandmother!”

“Goodbye, Satori,” you hear your mother's voice quiver now over the simplicity of Satori’s last word. And you know that if you could see her you would probably see her eyes get teary, but you stay behind the divider and wait for your daughter to come running to you.

“Mother did you hear I’m going to get a present!” Satori shares enthusiastically, so it makes it hard to keep a frown on your face.

“I heard. Are you ready to go now?”

“Are you?” Satoru interjects as he walks over to join you and your daughter.

“I,” you mutter and pause to look at the path that leads to your mother and heavily consider just walking away without seeing her. It would cause your heart less stress, but…you’re already here, and…she’s sick. If death comes for her tomorrow and you went on without confronting her after 11 years, then you would regret it. So you face Satoru with the choice to waste a few more minutes in this damned place.

“Just wait outside, I’ll be out in a minute.”

Satoru nods in comprehension and walks off with Satori, leaving you still behind that divider as you hesitate some more. Once again you want to just storm off, every cell in your body is yelling at you just to go, but you can’t, you can’t just go. So you take a few steps forward just to the point you’re able to peek past the divider and see her.

She’s much older, of course, her hair is peppered with gray spurts, but her wrinkles are still not a prominent thing. She could pass by as younger than she is if her exhaustion and illness didn't leave a clear mark on her face.

“She has your smile,” she breaks the silence without needing you to fully step out before her. “And your timidness.”

You clench your fists and exhale deeply before you step out past the divider and present yourself to her after a decade.

“Other than that she looks like her father.”

How is it so easy for her to speak to you? You can’t build up the courage or think of a word. You can barely look at her.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” she continues to try and get you to speak. “Losing not only one child, but two is a devastation a mother should never bear.”

You break away from the spot you stay glued to and slowly approach her. “Suguru and I adopted them,” you let her know. “But no matter the difference in our blood, and the name on paper, I still loved them as if they were my own.”

Your mother hums and when you get close to her side she’s able to see the change in your eyes. She’s able to see that the fearful and soft girl she once knew was gone and replaced by a stronger, more confident woman with even more radiating beauty that looks almost majestic.

“Y/N,” she whispers with tears rolling down her cheeks.

You push yourself forward and sit by her side which seems to let her think she’s allowed to touch you, but the moment her cold fingers make contact with your warm flesh, you slowly drag your hand away.

“Y/N,” her voice breaks as her eyes gleam brightly with tears. “Please forgive me,” she says since she can read your urgency to leave on your body. “I’m sorry.”

Her words hit you like a piercing blade to the heart, they hurt every single muscle and bring tears to your eyes. For so long that’s all you wanted to hear. You wished to hear her admit that the way they treated you was wrong, that she was wrong for letting them treat you the way they did. After all, you were her only daughter, her child, but now that you heard it coming out of her lips you can’t handle the weight.

It doesn’t matter that she’s sick, or that she’s weeping and pleading. You can’t forgive her either, you can’t love her like you once used to. She turned a blind eye and you got hurt because of it.

“I’ll let you see her,” is all you can gather to say. “I’ll let her come with Satoru if he wants to bring her, but I can’t say what you want to hear. No matter how many times I come back.”

You see her heart break at your words, her eyes express that deep ache, but you can't bring yourself to forgive her. You can work towards not hating her, but that’s the best you can do.

“I am sorry,” she whispers.

You swallow thickly and wipe away the tear that escaped past your eye. “I know,” you mumble before you get up and walk out.

“Let’s leave,” you say in a rush, and Satoru doesn’t protest or prolong your stay this time. You finally leave the damned place and only once you've made some distance between you and your family home can you rest your shoulders and let your racing heart ease to normal.

And it’s also after you’ve gotten away that you finally text Choso.

You to Choso: I’m finally out and I’m on my way home.

As expected Choso responds right away.

Choso: How was it? Are you okay?

You could ramble about your experience but all you want is to forget for now, so you deflect.

You: I’m fine, it was exhausting, but we can talk about it later.

Choso: We can have our date another day then I don’t want to overwhelm you.

You smile at his consideration, but just picturing him in formal attire, and playing out how your date could go is what kept you going today.

You: No, no! Please no. I’m looking forward to it, it’s what kept me going.

You: We’re having our date. You’re going to pick me up and we’re going to have the night of our lives today.

Choso: Okay. Good.

You grin and sigh with bliss.

You: I love you.

You just need to hear it—or read it, whatever.

Choso: I love you too. So much.

Choso: Can you talk? I want to hear your voice now.

You: Of course, I can :) but I won’t. It’ll make yearning for each other so much more intense don’t you think?

Choso: Are you teasing me?

You giggle at your phone and prove that it works because this interaction only makes your ache for him that much more intense.

You: Maybe but now you can recall my sweet voice from the moments I would talk in your ear. And picture my soft lips moving with each word.

You smirk and only a couple seconds pass before you see the three little dots as he writes his response, and then quickly sends it.

Choso: Maybe I should go home and we can go from there? I miss you.

You: Nope you’re picking me up remember? Xoxo.

——

*LATER*

It’s been a while since you’ve been on a date. With the last time being with your husband, a man you had known for a decade.

There were always date jitters even after 11 years because it was always exciting going on dates with Suguru, that never left, but this time it's different because it’s with someone else. This date with Choso is the first, and even if you’ve already skipped ahead and had sex, multiple times, there’s always something so intimate about a date. About it just being the two of you, that's especially more intensified on the first date.

You honestly feel nauseous. But that’s maybe because you have yet to see him. Knowing he should pick you up soon has your anticipation all heightened.

You just need to breathe.

Breathe.

Nevertheless, the doorbell rings and you get startled, but super giddy too.

“Wish me luck worm,” you speak to your worm cursed spirit, who just tilts its head before it watches you leave with your desired shoes in hand.

Once you reach the door you drop the shoes and slide them on before you smooth out your long black skirt and open the door to see him, your beloved Choso at the doorstep with his dark brown hair down, a bouquet of red tulips in his hands to greet you with, and a sweet smile on his face to ease your nerves.

“Choso,” you greet with endearment.

“Y/N,” his breath hitches, and his kind brown eyes widen, before his eyes roam your body as he takes in every inch of you in your expensive beautiful black two-piece set to engrave the sight of you in his memory. “These are for you.”

You take the bouquet from his hands but instead of walking in to put them in a vase, you jump on him and trap him in a loving embrace he returns with no hesitation.

“You look absolutely beautiful,” he whispers in your ear. “I’m lucky to have you as my date.”

You seep in his fresh and very outdoorsy musk through your nose before you giggle and pull away, but press your hands on his chest and check him out from head to toe, seeing at that instant that he's wearing new boots, and a new everything actually. He looks quite expensive which lets you know he had help picking out what he’s wearing.

“And you look very handsome,” you compliment him as you fix the collar of his coat. “I just might not let you out of my sight tonight or else they’ll steal you from right under me.”

Choso’s cheeks grow a light shade of red and his eyes flicker down, but they quickly find themselves back on you to continue admiring you like one would a beautiful painting or the moon.

“Let me just put these in some water and then we can go okay?” You let him know before you rush inside to do what you said and return to him to finally head out.

On your way to the restaurant, you find yourselves both nervous and just stealing glances at each other, or holding lingering stares that show both of your desires for one another, and your eagerness to fast forward this evening and pounce on each other to start your most intimate act.

You unknowingly both dreamed of just having a round of sex in the car, but neither of you spoke it into existence because you had a chauffeur. So all you comforted yourselves with was holding each other's hand and resting your head on his shoulder to take in his presence after the chaotic morning you had.

“Is this what you went to buy yesterday?” You finally ask him considering he was very guarded about everything last night when you asked.

“Yes,” Choso says with a soft laugh. “Kirara and Hakari helped me pick out a couple of things, and ultimately this outfit. Yuji tried, but uh it seems he’s a bit clueless about how to dress, or at least that’s what Hakari and Kirara told him.”

You chuckle. “Sounds like them.”

“You smell good by the way,” Choso murmurs against the top of your head before he presses a gentle kiss on it. “That’s my favorite fragrance of yours.”

You smile softly and thank him by pressing a kiss on his knuckles.

“We should take a picture together,” you suggest, and don’t wait to take your phone out and take a couple of pictures before you grab his phone and attempt to take more on his to give his camera roll some company.

However, before you can go to the camera app you come to a halt when you see that he has a picture of Itadori and you on his lock screen. Only it’s a very terribly off-guard one of Itadori, and your picture is one of you sleeping. And he doesn't have them as one single picture, no, he collaged them on a grid, which…ugh!

Your heart can’t take it, he's too cute.

“Oh baby,” you coo at his attempts. “Did you do this?”

Choso clears his throat. “Yeah, I didn’t have a picture of Itadori and you so I tried to make it work.”

Your heart leaps and as cute as this attempt is, you first take a picture of him and you together—Which turned out great might you add. You’re smiling and resting your cheek on his shoulder, and he’s not looking at the camera, he was captured looking at you, but his smile is soft and his eyes reflect his love for you.

“This,” you roll out and help him format his phone. “Picture of us will be your lock screen. And this…” you trail off and go on your phone to send a picture to his phone that arrives right away.

“This,” you continue and save an off-guard picture you took of Itadori and him laughing with each other just the other day. “Is your home screen.”

“I like that photo,” he says softly. “It’s better than mine.” He laughs at himself.

“I intended to send it yesterday but I completely forgot. It’ll work as a placeholder until we take a good picture of him and you.” You tell him before you grin and shake his arm. “I got it! A family portrait in matching winter sweaters. That would be so cute.”

Choso chuckles softly and goes shy. “It sounds great if he wants that.”

You tilt your head and look at him with a comforting gaze. “Cho, I’m sure he will. You’re his brother. He’s starting to appreciate that. I see it.”

Choso looks down at your hand caressing his forearm and sighs softly. “Step by step, right? That’s what you said.”

“Yeah.” You assure him before you lean in and press a kiss on his lips. “I guess we won’t be having our first kiss at the end of the date.”

“That’s a ridiculous courtesy anyway,” he plays along with you. “How could any man look at someone so beautiful and not kiss them? It’d be like dying of dehydration.”

Your face goes ablaze and you giggle before you can't hold back anymore, you make out with him and fill your hunger with just the taste of his lips. You ache for more but you somehow manage to think clearly and limit yourself to just kissing until you finally arrive at the restaurant. Which thankfully has your favorite secluded booth open.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Choso interjects almost hesitantly. “How was your visit to your family home?”

You share a nervous laugh and shake your head. “How about I tell you tomorrow?” You ask as you look up from the menu. “I don’t want to spoil the night.”

Choso’s breath hitches and he immediately expresses his guilt and regret for trying to bring it up. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

You reach over and take his hand. “Don’t apologize it’s okay. It really is.” You smile at him before you grin at the menu. “Now, why don’t we focus on what we should eat? There’s so much for you to try, but there’s just so little appetite, hm,” you tap your chin and then point out to different things he should try before you close your eyes and try to picture your perfect meal.

“What are you doing?” Choso gets curious.

“Picturing my food. Should I get some appetizers before my ramen? And what about dessert?” You mumble and then open your eyes to look at him wide-eyed and eager. “We should get some ice cream after.”

“You’ll get cold,” he points out.

You click your tongue in agreement so you then come up with something else that’s desirable. “Boba? Or a coffee?”

Choso laughs at you but you don’t find humor in your indecisiveness, you’re being serious.

“Cho, I’m serious.”

“We can get whatever you want,” he offers no help whatsoever.

“Y/N,” your name is called out in a sing-song voice. And when you look over you see the owner of the restaurant.

“Mrs Kaho,” you greet.

She sets down a bottle of sake that you didn’t order and looks around the booth before she probes. “Where’s my favorite customer.”

You smile at her. “She’s spending some quality time with her uncle and her aunt today.”

“Aww well, you bring her next time.” She says and looks at Choso now with a faint taunting smile. “No Nanami today? Did he finally find a girlfriend? If not I have a niece who just got divorced. They’d compliment each other.”

You choose not to dive into the truth tonight so you have to lie for your sake and the sake of this night. “No Nanami today. But I brought my boyfriend, Choso.”

Mrs. Kaho narrows her eyes on said man and then grins before pouring him the sake she had just brought. “You’re a handsome fella.”

Choso’s cheeks flush and he fiddles with his thumbs. “Oh thank you.”

“It’s good y/n found you, she’s too young and beautiful to be a widow,” she doesn’t hold back from saying. “I feared she’d end up alone all her life.”

You laugh as you shake your head at her daring comment, while Choso smiles at you as he gives her a response. “I’m glad I found her too.”

Mrs Kaho pats his shoulder with praise and finally takes your orders before leaving right away since she said if she stayed any longer she would end up stealing your night by talking with you.

Once you’re alone though the space between Choso and you is quiet. It’s a comfortable silence, and one you almost want to keep because it gives you time to just simply admire him under the soft light dangling over the table, and see the way his brown eyes reflect the sun's hue without needing to be out. They’re so bright and rich, so perfectly brown. And his hair! It looks so soft as it drapes over his neck. And his lips are a paleish pink, thin, but almost always pouty. It makes you want to just kiss it away, they’re so inviting and soft. His skin is soft too and he does nothing specific to have it that way.

He looks nonchalant, but not to you, not anymore, you see every emotion rushing through behind his eyes, in the small and simple movements of his body. Which probably sounds crazy to anyone who doesn’t know you, you probably sound obsessive considering how long you’ve been dating, but after those 19 days of hiding out, living with an ancient sorcerer underground, and now living together, how could you not know how to read him? Or memorize every single detail on his pale face.

If someone asked you to paint him, you would be able to do it blind.

Which…is terrifying. Loving him so deeply scares you because of your current circumstances. You don’t want to lose him because that will truly crush you, but with each running second you are glad to have the privilege to love him too.

“Y/N,” Choso calls out and catches you staring when he drifts his eyes to you.

“Hm?” You probe softly as he swallows back nervously as if he caught you admiring for the first time.

“I…I have something for you,” he shares and reaches in his coat pocket to pull out a small red box decorated with a white bow, and a tag that you see has your name on it when he hands it to you.

“A present?” You quiere giddly. “You shouldn’t have.”

“I wanted to get you something,” he rebuttals and watches you with his breath caught in his throat. “I wanted you to own something that I gave you since I had yet to give you something.”

You smile at him with awe and can't argue with that so you give into your curiosity and undo the white bow. Before you can open it you flash him a grin and then close your eyes as you pull the lid off to not spoil the surprise right away. Once nothing else is blocking what he gifted you, you open your eyes, and gasp softly at the beautiful sight.

“Oh Choso,” you muse and pull out a golden heart locket necklace that's decorated with small white diamonds around your October birthstone. “This…” you trail off and look at him with tears in your eyes.

“Turn it around before you open it,” he instructs before you can slide over and kiss him.

“Okay,” you breathe out shakily, and when you do what he says you find yourself with more tears filling your eyes that make it hard to read what was inscribed on the metal. So you wipe away the pesky tears and hold back for now to read the small words.

“For my sun, my moon, my beloved. My y/n.”

You laugh blissfully and keep holding back your tears because if that’s what's on the back then what’s inside is probably only more heart-wrenching.

And alas you stand corrected when you see a small little heart-shaped picture of your students and kids together. All five of them are forever cherished in that frame; Hakari, Kirara, Satori, and your twins, your girls, Nanako and Mimiko.

“I,” you cry. “Oh,” you gasp and cover your mouth as you handle your disbelief.

“Choso,” is all you can say. All your words are lost.

“Do you like it?” He makes sure to ask even if the tears ruining your makeup answer his question.

“Yes,” you mewl and nod at him before you drag yourself around the booth to throw your arms around him. “I love it. Thank you, my love.”

Choso twists around to wrap his arms around you even if it’s an uncomfortable position.

“I love you,” you murmur and tilt your head up to kiss him. And even if you are where you are you move slowly and savor the taste of lips so when you pull back you’re content with what you got for now.

“Could you help me put it on?” You ask and turn around to give him access to your bare neck. “Now,” you add while he very delicately hooks the necklace around your neck. “All I need is a picture of you on that empty spot.” You smile and wipe away the last tears rolling down your cheek.

“I'm sure someone else can fill the spot, like, your brother.” He says making you snort and laugh.

“As if. No thanks.”

You would say he could relate because he has brothers, but he can't. His love for his brothers is too pure.

“No, I want you,” you speak sweetly and turn around when he finishes to kiss him one more time.

“Now,” you say smugly and pull back to reach for your bag. “Since great minds think alike, I actually got you something too.”

Choso shifts in his seat and watches you more intently now as he actually grows nervous as well as curious.

“You shouldn’t have y/n,” he really means that. You love gifts so you actually loved that he got you something. You actually expected something smaller but still picked out with love, or even a ring, but he really surprised you.

“I wanted to,” you brush off his modesty. “I hope you like it.”

You hand him a small box as well and beam at him.

“Open it,” you press eagerly and start fiddling with the rings you have around your fingers.

Choso exhales deeply as he hesitates before he opens the box and gasps with shock. Even more so than yours.

“Sweetheart,” he says softly but also kind of in a scolding manner since he doesn’t agree that you should waste money on him.

“Pull it out,” you encourage him, but he hesitates once again before he wraps his fingers around the silver chain and pulls out a silver rectangular pendant dangling at the end that has a dragon carved on the front.

“A dragon,” he muses. “It reminds me of you.”

You flash him a grin and swoon over the fact that he thinks of you, but that’s not the most important part. He almost misses what you had transcribed on the back, but before you can guide him to it he catches the cursive and holds the pendant still, finding his breath escaping him once again when he reads all his brother's names on the back.

“If I got one of their names wrong, let me know,” you interject as his lips quiver and tears fill his eyes. “The lady that helped me said it can be fixed.”

As if it was possible the love he has for you in his eyes only grows more, and unlike you who found it easy to embrace him, he can’t even move with how shocked he is. So you lean over and embrace him to comfort him.

“I love you, thank you so much for loving me, Choso,” you whisper in his ear for only him to hear.

“Thank you for letting me,” he manages to whisper back. “And thank you for this gift. It’s spectacular. Thank you.”

You pull back and kiss him again before you press your forehead on his and take his chain to put it on him.

“Who would’ve guessed huh?” You add with amusement and pull back. “It’s like we read each other's minds.”

“It seems we did,” he teases. “But now I don’t know how to thank you beyond simple words.”

You smirk and lean over to whisper teasingly in his ear. “I can think of a couple of ways.”

Choso swallows thickly and meets your gaze with his pupils dilated before he laughs at you and presses a kiss on your cheek.

“You’ll have to feed your stamina first then,” he remarks, making you gasp and chuckle.

“Choso!” You pretend to scold him. “How dirty of you.”

He smirks and you can’t help but laugh some more and then dive into more lighthearted humor that makes you both laugh to the point it’s hard to breathe. You almost forget about the food until it comes and that’s all you can think about until it’s done.

After that, after you’ve enjoyed your meal, and dessert (mostly you), each other is all you can think about. The warmth of your hands as you have them intertwined together. The sound of your breaths as you enjoy a quiet stroll towards the next destination Choso had planned out for tonight. And the simplicity of each other's presence.

You could think about the intimacy of each other's lips, of wanting to find an escape to have a quick pleasurable moment, but as of now, as you walked through the chilly evening, all you thought about was the joy of having one another.

“Did you like it?” You finally remember to ask. “I mean I did promise a good meal, so was it good? And say the truth it won’t hurt my feelings.”

Choso lets your hand go, forcing your palm to be slammed with the cold running air. But just as you’re going to ask what he’s doing he pulls his coat off and carefully drapes it over your shoulders to provide you more warmth since he knows how cold you get.

“Thank you Choso,” you whisper and offer him a sweet smile before you take his hand again and repeat your question. “So tell me.”

Choso meets your gaze and his lips tug to a small grin. “I’ll say this.” He clears his throat, making your eyebrows knit together. “I won’t let you eat it alone. If you’re committed I am too.”

He remembers your joke!

“Great!” You laugh and gently nudge him to the side before you hug his arm. “You remembered.”

Choso’s grin turns smug and he nods gently.

Soon thereafter you arrive at the spot where the room is all covered in screens to make you believe, in this instant, that you’re in the deep blue depths of the ocean watching the sea creatures swim all around you. And considering the room was rented by the hour you paid more to use it as long as you wanted and be given the privacy you needed; so no security cameras on, and a locked door. Choso insisted on paying the rest, but you beat him to the punch.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, why the ocean?” Choso asks as he admires you watching a pod of whales with your eyes glimmering with awe.

“I don’t know, maybe it’s because I can manipulate water,” you muse and smile as the whales start to sing. “Or well I do,” you clarify and drift your eyes to him. “It’s beautiful for one, especially in the most isolated parts of the world where all you see is water, because at night when the water is calm it’s like being in space. The way they reflect on the water is beautiful. But that’s not it, the ocean is also mysterious, it surrounds us, and personally, it holds the most beautiful animals in this world,” you murmur and grin brightly as a whale swims around you behind all the screens that surround you.

“People are like the ocean in some ways if you think about it,” you continue. “We’re rageful, deep, mysterious. Beautiful. Our lives go up and down like waves, and most importantly we can be ugly too, terrifying, like some parts of the ocean.”

Choso tries to answer with words, but all he responds with is a soft hum as he’s completely captivated by the beauty of your words, by the way, you smile so beautifully at the school of blue and black fish as if they could see you.

“Somethings wrong with us,” you point out and finally take a seat on the blankets Choso brought so you could comfortably enjoy the sight of the scenery.

“What is it?” Choso probes as he mirrors you and sits beside you with the inability to keep his hands to himself, or his eyes off you. He needs to be touching you, he needs to be looking at the most beautiful thing in this room, and to him that’s you.

“We tend to view the world behind screens or illusions, or whatever Tengen made us see underground,” you share with a laugh and pull your hand from under his to instead lay your head down on his lap. “Once this fighting is done, once our lives have calmed down we will see the world. Or parts of it anyway.” You grin. “Since the world is big. But I digress. You, me, Satori, Itadori…” you make sure to name him because that’s one of the most important people in his life. “And my students will see the stars in a place where it feels like we’re in space. We’ll see ice caps that polar bears play on, and then the most beautiful ocean.”

Choso laughs softly and gently caresses the scar across your torso with his thumb since it’s exposed by what you’re wearing.

“I would like that,” he commits to your plans, causing you to beam at him. “What else do you want?” He proceeds to ask in a very gentle manner.

You raise your brow and poke him. “What do you want? What do you want to do?”

Choso shakes his head softly and his smile only seems to soften more, making the gleam in his eyes shine brighter. “I have what I want. My brother’s safe and protected with Yuji. I have Yuji who sees me as his brother, and you. I don’t need anything else. But you,” he whispers and lifts his hand to start caressing your cheek. “What do you want, my love? Say it and I’ll give you the world.”

You giggle and lean into his touch to press a kiss on his palm before you answer. “I want to learn how to paint. I see all these beautiful paintings at museums, and online and I’m jealous of the skill. I want to learn. But you can’t buy me skill.”

“No,” he chuckles. “I could get you the things to get you started though.”

You smile. “You can be my model.” You suggest teasingly making him scoff shyly before he continues to press.

“Anything else?”

You let out a deep breath and feel your grin soften to a smile as you think about the next thing. “A sunroom, only instead of clear glass windows, I want a sunroom made of only stained glass windows.”

Choso’s eyebrows knit together making his confusion plain to see. “Stained windows?” He asks for clarification. “Why would you want dirty windows?”

You stare at him in silence for a moment before you sit up and burst out laughing. “Oh, my sweet, sweet love. No,” you draw in for air and grab his face to clarify yourself. “Stained glass is…uh, colored glass. I want colored glass so when the sun is out, the room is basked in beautiful dancing colors.”

Choso doesn’t seem to understand that explanation either so you show him an example and he then gets it.

“Oh. Oh, well now that’s something I can get you,” he says now. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

“You’re cute,” you coo and lean in for a kiss that you don't have to pull away from at that instant. You move slowly, and hold him close, letting him indulge in open-mouth kisses that he slips his tongue into and lights your body on fire with desire.

Yet as you start rubbing your hands on his chest and work them down to pull his shirt off, he pulls back with a sharp breath.

“Sorry,” he whispers against your swollen lips. “Not yet.”

You playfully roll your eyes and try to push him away, but as your fingertips hit his chest he actually catches your wrist and pulls you back towards him, to the point your lips are grazing over each other’s.

“Dance with me,” he says and stands up, leaving your lips once again cold without the company of his next to yours, or on yours.

However, this time you don’t mind. Your eagerness gets the best of you and you accept his offer.

“You didn’t learn with someone else did you?” You tease him whilst he remembers where to put his hands. Albeit, this time you guide one hand on your waist down to grab your ass.

Choso of course blushes even if he’s seen you naked, shares the same bed, and takes showers with you.

“No I just remembered from last time,” he explains as he lets a song play on his phone that wasn’t the same one as before, but romantic nonetheless. “And,” he adds while you start to dance. “Remember. I have knowledge of things, I just haven’t lived those things myself.”

“I know,” you assure him. “I was teasing.”

He sighs with relief and laughs at himself for a moment before he meets your gaze with a small frown.

“With this battle we’re fighting most likely concluding next month,” he shares right as you were going to ask what got him down. “All I want is for you and Satori to go far away. Somewhere not remotely close to Japan.”

“Choso,” you whisper your protest, but he cuts you off and explains himself softly.

“I almost lost you more than once. I don’t want to lose you for good. I can’t lose you. Last year after I saw you, you’re all that I could think about, you gave me hope after a century of darkness and thinking I would forever be stuck as I was. And when I saw you again in Shibuya,” he says and makes you both dance a lot slower. “All I wanted was you. To be near you, to protect you from all the evil in this world. That means this. So please just think about it.”

You let out a deep sigh and don’t comfort him by saying that you will think about it. You can’t lie to him because your mind is made up. Even if you have a reason to stay out of the fight to come, how can you betray yourself too? Ever since you lost a part of yourself to that non-sorcerer who tortured you, all you wanted was to help the next generation of sorcerers; you wanted to protect your people. You can’t do that by avoiding the fight, so your answer is clear and it has been for a while.

“Choso I can't and I won’t, I'm sorry,” you do explain yourself sweetly. “My goal is to help the next generation of sorcerers, to help our people. I can’t do that by hiding and letting others risk their lives. I know you’re just trying to look out for me, I appreciate your sentiment, but I can’t betray myself. And no matter how much you plead, I won’t change my mind. I’m sorry.”

Choso blinks repeatedly in disbelief before he drops his head and stops dancing, making you take his jaw and tilt his head up.

“I won’t let you just dedicate yourself to protecting me either,” you explain. “But I’m strong. I know that.”

Even in your moments of doubt, in the back of your head, you know that to be true. “Even if I had my close encounters with death, next time won’t be the time I die either. I will live for my girl, for my people, my family, and you. I will live so I can continue loving you. Do you understand?”

His eyes fill with tears as he nods softly.

“Good,” you murmur with a sweet smile before you wrap your arms around his neck and lay your head on his shoulder to continue swaying to the music chest to chest.

However, you don’t last long in that position because Choso then pulls back and surprises you by spinning you away from him, and then quickly spinning you back and dipping you ever so carefully so as to not drop you.

“Choso!” You giggle with surprise, and he pulls you back up and presses you close to his chest with a grin.

“What a lovely surprise,” you murmur against his lips as you can’t help but keep glancing at them.

“Did you like it?” He asks with a hint of smugness behind his voice.

“I loved it,” you assure him and lean in to close the gap left between your lips, but stop since you do want to keep dancing with him with your head on his shoulder.

However, Choso is the one who can’t wait this time, he slams his lips on yours and takes no time to slide his hands up to secure your face against his by grabbing your cheeks.

Many other times you pull back to laugh in surprise at his eagerness or smile at him, but this time you fan your passionate flames and kiss him back with hunger. As if it was the first time, or you were one of these horny couples from the old times who had been aching for a kiss, but could only feed your desires with longing stares and stolen touches until now.

You should hold back since you are in a semi-public place, but there’s no windows here, you paid to lock the doors, and shut down the cameras, so no, you don’t hold back, you guide him to sit, and straddle him before you slither your hands to the back of his head and grab a fistful of hair.

Choso is so lost in your passion that he lets out a pleased groan that makes his lips break away. But he’s only off you for a second, he doesn’t even catch his breath before he presses a kiss on the corner of your mouth and leaves a wet trail of kisses down to your neck.

You find that those kisses burn you up more so you can’t help but moan softly in his ear, while you work your hands down to the hem of his shirt to pull it off without protest, breaking the connection of his lips on your neck. Yet you don’t go long without the feeling of his lips on you, you grab his jaw and lean down to kiss his lips again.

This time Choso slowly roams his hands down to your back to grab your hips for a moment before he brushes his hands over your torso, fueling your fire. He then caresses your breast over your top, making your breath shudder, and then lands where he desires, on your cheeks to pull back.

“No,” he says between heavy breaths. “I want to be on you.”

You smile with relief after thinking he was going to break this apart to be considerate.

“Wait,” he blurts before he can flip you around. “Not here. We can’t here.”

You peer back and double-check that the door is locked before you look up at the camera and make sure that the light is not flashing. “We can if no one finds out. No one has to know,” you tempt him in a silky voice that makes the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

“Just one round?” He asks and leans in to touch your lips with his, letting you both feel your breaths unfurl over the top of your lips.

“One round,” you reassure him and draw in a deep breath before you grin brightly and let him flip you around so you’re on your back with him between your legs.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers with his eyes darkened with desire.

“You are too,” you redirect, making a timid smile break on his face. “Now kiss me or I will flip you around and ride you.”

He snickers and talks against your lips, making you squirm. “Save it for home.”

You try to laugh, but you’re so lost in your desire at the promise of more that it comes out more like a breathy moan.

“I hate making love to you fast,” he keeps talking. “But it has to be done, or—”

“Shh,” you cut him off before you lift your head to trap him in a heated kiss.

Choso laughs in your kiss but doesn’t let it last long because he’s then moving in sync with you, and feeling his member hardened.

He usually likes to explore your body with his lips and his tongue, but there was no time now, he saves that for later and instead helps you take your skirt off. And instead of working to reach your high, he stops to admire part of the red lace lingerie that you wore for him.

“You,” he breathes in and lets his eyes roam your body. “You are a piece of art.”

You laugh softly and grab his hands to press his fingers on your panties so he can pull them down and see your soaking pussy. However, he shakes his head and lets your hands go to instead grab your leg and lean towards it.

“What are you doing?” You probe and look over by propping your elbows on the ground and lifting your head.

However, he doesn’t say his answer, he responds by kissing the side of your knee and slowly grazing his lips up. Which is a move that steals your breath and leaves you like a puddle.

“Keep them on,” he says against your thigh.

You shiver and smile like a lovestruck fool.

“Choso please,” you groan and grab his shoulders. “Any more of that and I’ll cum without you inside me.”

Choso chuckles and moves back over you, but not to kiss you, or take your top off, he’s too impatient to sink into your warmth to worry about stripping you. Instead, he presses a kiss over your clothed clit and then hooks his fingers on your panties and moves them aside, realizing at that moment how wet you are for him.

“Beautiful,” he praises you and presses a kiss on your bare clit before finally moving up to let his face hover over yours. “Ready?” He makes sure to ask.

You nod softly and initiate a slow and sloppy kiss while he lines his cock with your entrance and lets the tip of his cock kiss you before he very, agonizingly slowly sinks into you.

And you can’t say he isn’t usually slow, because he is, every time. Even if you are both eager he likes to feel every inch of your walls with his cock, as if trying to map it out. He likes to see your jaw slowly go aslack, like now, as his fat girth slowly splits you open, and your needy pussy swallows him whole to the point he can’t push in any further.

“Choso,” you cry in his mouth as you feel his tip, every vein on his member, and his smooth cock itself grazes your gummy walls.

“One round,” he reminds the both of you and grabs the back of your knee to lift your leg and hook it over his shoulder before he pulls out until his tip is the only thing your pussy is embracing.

“Choso,” you whine, but he shuts you up by pressing his lips on yours and taking in you for a kiss he slides his tongue into.

And even if you haven’t been having sex long he already knows everything you like. He knows how to make you scream, he knows what to do to make you close your eyes, and scratch his back. He knows how to tease you, and how to make you squirt (which he just learned the other day). He knows every detail about you just like you know every detail about him.

So considering you are on a time crunch he uses what he knows to make this fast, and that's going slow. You like it fast, and rough because you last longer that way, but this way you can’t hold back, it’s too agonizing. So he slowly slides back inside you, causing you to break away from the kiss to tilt your head back and roll your eyes back.

“Choso,” you plead. “Please.”

Said man plants kisses on your neck and pulls back halfway before sliding in and slamming the tip hard against you.

You groan and find stability by holding his muscular shoulder, going unaware of his left hand until you feel his fingers run a strip over your clit before he starts to rub circles over it, bringing you close to the edge already.

“Choso,” you moan to the screens long forgotten and pull your hands away to dig your nails on the floor.

He whines at the feeling of your fluttering pussy around his cock, and even if he’s starting to lose himself in the feeling of you, he manages to find your hand and interlaces his fingers between yours before he starts thrusting in and out just a bit faster. Yet not fast enough, he’s still teasing you by moving slowly and rubbing his thumb on your clit.

You try to meet his thrusts to pick up the speed, but he presses his body closer to you and traps you under him.

“You feel incredible,” he praises you and groans. “My beautiful girl. Mine.”

You find his lips and match the speed of his thrusts with your lips, feeling him groan against your mouth as you tighten around him, your pussy fluttering and your leg pressing closer against him as you near your release since he’s being a damn tease.

“Choso,” you mewl and hold his gaze to bat your lashes at him. “Please rougher.”

Choso smiles and drops his head on the crook of your neck to not give in to what you want since he tends to do what you asked for with a simple bat of your lashes and a look at those eyes he loves so much.

“So—Mhm,” you groan and squeeze your eyes shut as he starts hitting your g-spot. “Good. You’re doing good.”

Choso chuckles. “Don’t,” he can barely mutter between breaths as he feels his release creeping in.

“So close,” you announce and he picks up his pace, making lewd noises of skin slapping as he chases his release and helps you find yours.

He doesn’t hold back anymore, he starts drilling into you so hard tears start to form in your eyes, and you arch your back off the ground, but it's too late for you. Your stomach twists and you're a moaning mess along with Choso who sucks on the skin of your neck and sloppily rubs your clit now.

“I’m cummimg!” You cry out and clutch onto his hand.

Choso slides his lips off your neck and meets your gaze. “Me too—me too,” he shares and goes back to slowly rocking his hips, but that triggers you. A shiver runs down your spine and from one moment to the next you see stars as you squeeze tightly around him and squirt all over his cock.

Choso fucks you through your release and lets out a mess of whines and groans as he can’t hold back anymore, he comes undone, and his seed spills inside you. Rope after rope painting your walls before it leaks out of your hole and mixes with yours now pooling on the once clean blanket.

“Fuck,” you murmur and let his hand go to gently caress his back as he pulls out before he goes two more rounds.

“You were perfect,” he whispers on your lips before he gives you a chaste kiss and then crawls down to drop his head on your chest and rest on you.

“That was,” you chuckle and throw your arm over your eyes. “Great. I really don’t like it when you go slow though.”

“I know.” He retorts smugly.

You sigh with pleasure nonetheless and take advantage that he’s on you to brush your fingers through his hair.

“We should go home,” he says and rubs circles on your side.

“Yeah.”

You pull your arm off your eyes and use both hands to brush his hair while you start to watch the ocean once again through the screens above you.

“Choso,” you can’t help but get all mushy as you come off your high.

“Hmm?” He queries.

You swallow thickly and smile as you see a manta ray swim past you.

“Do you want to know why I love you?” You continue with a honey-filled voice.

“Yes,” he says and lifts his head off your chest to meet your gaze with curiosity.

You grab his shoulders and guide him up to his knees as you sit up without breaking eye contact. “I love you because you have a good heart. Because you’re beautifully human even if you still doubt it. Because as my world went dark when I lost those I loved, you never left my side. And you haven’t since Shibuya. That’s why I love you.”

A wobbly smile tugs on his lips but tears don’t escape, he presses a gentle kiss on your lips before he presses his forehead against yours, and cups your cheeks.

“And you,” he interjects. “Have a strong heart. The strongest I know. You kept fighting after losing your daughters and your best friend. It would've been impossible for a lot of others, but you kept your heart strong. I admire your strength.”

Rather than kissing him, you stay as you are, you smile and grab his jaw, and bask in the intimacy of the moment.

No one could ruin this moment or change your love for him. Ever…

A/N- You best know Choso has that ring on the ready!

Tagged- @deniseabad1928 @secondary-character-25 @starlightanyaaa @notsaelty @d4rno @moonnime @kodzukein @yozora7154 @heijihattorisgf @elegantweirdorchest @natakina

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