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#they were hogging the good lighting

omgeto · 9 months

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☆ THREE ISN'T A CROWD — SATORU & SUGURU

summary: your best friends, geto and gojo, rail you in a hotel bed. that's it. that's the fic.

cw: afab!reader, finger fucking, unprotected sex, double penetration so mdni !!

an: I wrote this whilst drinking a big fat cup of tea, and eating a packet of stale biscuits. so no angsty romance today, just two besties appreciating you in their own special way. it is 5:40 am so I did not proof read this so ignore mistakes pls <;33

gojo and geto were mischievous on their own accords – but when together it was worse. so when you were sandwiched between them in your hotel room, since of course there was only one bed, you weren’t even surprised.

“this is not fair,” gojo mumbles, his lips curling into a mock pout as he exhales a huff of air.

“oh don’t be a baby,” geto scolds, with a chuckle . gojo and geto bickered over who got to sleep where and after a lengthy game of rock paper scissors – it was gojo who had to face the wall. “you’ll get your turn soon.” you could feel geto’s breath on your neck as he was placed firmly behind you, his hands stuffed in your pants as his fingers caress your wet slit.

“don’t be mean sugu,” you chastise, your hand trailing up gojo's back to his shoulder to turn him over, facing you, “there’s enough of me to go around.” gojo is needy, pressing a feverish kiss to your lips, wanting to taste all of you.

gojo didn’t think his plan would work, when he proposed it to geto he was swift in his agreement — the only thing left was you. their pretty little best friend. who they've both wanted a piece of, for years.

now that he’s got you, he couldn’t contain himself – if he wasn’t careful he knew he’d be cumming in his boxers too soon. he latches onto your neck sucking and biting his hands grabbing onto your tits, tweaking and pinching at your nipples.

“you’re hogging her,” gojo complains, as his fingers slip down to your cunt. geto adds another finger spreading your lips wider as gojo’s forces his fingers into you. they were both rubbing your pussy. your wetness making it easier for gojo to piston in and out of you and for geto to stroke and flick against your clit with his thumb.

“g-guys fuck, you’re both too much,” you whimper, your hips thrusting towards gojo, slotting onto his fingers further. geto’s slides his tongue from your collar bone to your jaw before his hand grips onto it, his lips remain at your ears as he whispers, “you gonna cum for us baby?”

“yeah c’mon make a mess for us,” gojo adds, continuing his pattern of rubs and pushes in your pussy, its almost as if he’s committed the rhythm to memory. he was effortless in working with geto, both aiding each other to help you reach your climax. geto pinches your clint, hard, and you spray both of their hands with your cum – squirting all over them.

gojo’s eyes widen at the sight, “shit, i didn’t know you could do that” he exclaims, taking his fingers out of you, examining them as they glisten with your juices, “suguru, did she know that she could do that?”

geto ignores him, rolling his eyes at his friends over excitement, “wanna be wowed even further, taste her, i bet she’s sweet.” before gojo could comply you take his fingers in your mouth, practically choking on them as you suck off all your juices.

“you taste good don’t you?” geto muses, pressing a kiss to your neck, you nod dumbly as you lock eyes with gojo still nibbling on his fingers.

“hey suguru, can we try something with her,” gojo proposes, and geto nods, prompting him to continue, “i wanna stuff her. i want both of us to stuff her.

“we can make that happen, can't we?” geto smirks, rubbing on your ass giving it a light smack, “come sit on my dick, i’ll take of you.”

“what about me?” gojo whines, groaning as you're pulled away from him and on top of geto.

“you’ll get yours in due time, satoru,” geto scolds, taking out his dick giving it some light pumps before rubbing it across your slit. you force yourself down on him, your hands clawing at his chest as you push it down. you were already gushing at the feeling of geto inside of you, filling you whole. so the idea of having them both in you had you excited, grinding down onto geto’s dick as hard as he was thrusting into you.

“are you seeing this?” geto asks gojo, gesturing to the way your head was thrown back and your lips were clenched in your teeth, “the way our pretty friend here is all strung out on my dick?”

gojo’s eyes were focused on the way you bounced repeatedly on his best friends dick, furiously pumping his as the sight. the way your grabbed your tits and played with your nipples, moaning to the beat of geto’s thrusts, he knew he needed to be inside of you.

he gets out of the bed, coming to kneel behind you, peppering kisses along your spine. “i think theres room for me, isn’t there?” he jests, slightly pushing you forward, eyeing the way geto’s dick slides in and out of you.

you take a shark inhale at the feeling of gojo entering you, “you’re good,” geto reassures, “you can take us.” and you moan as you get used to the feeling of the both of them, their dicks rubbing together as they drive into you, instantly finding a rhythm.

“you feel so fuckin’ good, w-way too good,” gojo moans, holds you from behind, his chest presses against your back, his hands cupping your boobs as his head rests on your shoulders.

“‘m close,” geto mutters, smirking at the sight of you, the feeling of you. “you gonna let us cum inside of you? really keep you filled up.” you moan out in agreement, your head felt so foggy with the feeling of them both charging into you. geto gives gojo a knowing smile, and as if on cue, they both load into you showering you with their cum. you finish at the same as them with a high pitched moan, releasing onto them, feeling stuffed with all their cum, and yours, resting inside of you.

“now that,” gojo pulls out of you, pressing an appreciative kiss on the corner of your lips before collapsing on the bed with a blissful smile, “was fucking magical.”

“yeah i guess it was good,” geto chuckles, still inside of you, kissing you on your forehead, his hand slinging over your ass, as you slump on top of him, “how are you feeling?”

“you two are exhausting,” you joke with a smile, “but i can see why i kept you around as my friends.” although this was something that you yourself didn’t plan, you weren’t gonna deny that being freshly fucked and laid up with your two best friends wasn’t all that bad.

AN: I think you can see my heavy bias for geto come thru in this fic but oh well DIVIDERS BY @/CAFEKITSUNE I wrote this more for time than anyone else tbf BUT TELL ME WHAT U THINK since I am iffy on my smut skills

#stampedwithanE★#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #geto x reader #geto smut #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo x you #geto x you

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awearywritersworld · 11 months

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gratitude

gojo satoru x reader summary: gojo wakes up early one morning, suddenly aware that he can't live without you. w/c: .5k tags/warnings: fluff. gn!reader. a/n: happy jjk day!!! masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here

gojo satoru is something of a stranger to gratitude, but can anyone really blame him? he was born with unmatched strength, unaccustomed to the blood, sweat, and tears many people shed to gain even a fraction of the power he possesses.

he's the son of one of the wealthiest clans in japan, so he's never gone to bed hungry, nor has he ever had to wear a pair of shoes that were past their prime. he's also blessed with good looks, always flaunting the kind of smile that makes people turn their heads.

now, that's not to say he's never felt thankful in his life. quite the contrary. he was thankful when nanami returned to jujutsu tech and when yuuji came back to life even after sukuna ripped out his heart. hell, he was thankful for the kid at the bakery who served him a particularly exquisite lemon loaf last week.

but he's never felt true gratitude. you know, the kind you experience when you're given something you can't possibly live without. the kind that moves you, shakes you to the core.

that is, until he's laying in bed beside you, already awake as the sun begins to kiss the morning sky. his eyes trail over your face in the pale blue light of dawn, taking great pains to commit every little detail to memory.

it's then that he feels it, gratitude that seeps into his bones and fills him with relief, hope, and elation all at once. gratitude that changes him as a person, because how could he exist without you? without the soft curve of your nose, without the fullness of your lips, without those cute little snores that let him know you're still sleeping peacefully?

you're laying on your stomach, your back exposed and the sheet bunched around your waist. he traces each divot of your spine with a careful and loving touch, acutely aware that there isn't a thing in the world that could possibly compare to the feeling of your skin against his own.

"'toru? what're you doing awake?" you ask groggily, pulling him from his thoughts.

"hmph.. can't sleep 'cause you're such a blanket hog."

"yeah? are you sure you're not just staring at me again, all googly eyed and creepy?" you pop one eye open to discern the look on his face.

"i've got no idea what you're talking about," he asserts, pulling you against his chest in an attempt to obscure his guilty grin.

you've already seen it though. "i think you're delusional or something, you should get some more sleep."

you feel his chest shift, a breath of a laugh passing his nose. "yeah, you're probably right."

you hum, satisfied with his answer, then tangle your legs with his and close your eyes. "i love you."

gojo has taken a lot of things for granted in his life, he's smart enough to know that, but those three words? from your lips? he'll be grateful for them until the end of time.

"i love you, too."

taglist: @torusmochi @moonmalice

#m!writes #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo imagines #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagines #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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kinopio-writes · 3 months

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Hi! Would you be willing to write something for Adam with a sensitive reader?

Everyone knows that he is loud-mouthed jerk, even reader, and she loves him regardless, but one day he crosses the line and says something particularly mean that makes her cry. Like REAL mean. To the point that he pauses because he did not think before speaking (or, well, less than usual lol)

I'm happy with whatever format you feel like using! Thank you!

A/N: I will be more than delighted to write that for you. But would you excuse me for a moment? AHHHHHHDISJDIOEOFJSKXJND—I’m sorry; I love this idea so much. Reading ‘Adam with a sensitive reader’ got me hooked instantly. But I’ll go over that in the headcanons, along with the general stuff. And I’ll add a oneshot at the end that plays the exact scenario of Adam taking it too far.

Holy sh!t. I made it so that the reader being sensitive is their greatest but also weakest point and it turned out pretty angsty. Has a bit of hurt/comfort, though. Did I go overboard? Maybe. That’s why it took so long. Sorry, anon.

Words: 2,328 (edited the end a bit because it didn’t sit right with me)

Warnings: Sex is mentioned (only a bit, surprisingly), Angst, Adam being Adam

———

Adam w/ a Sensitive!Reader

• ha, this man is also sensitive himself

• well, sensitive about himself

• he feels his own emotions strongly, so he’s not the caring, easily able to pick up on other’s feelings and empathize type of sensitive

• you, on the other hand, are on the opposite end of the spectrum compared to Adam

• so you experience other people’s emotions just as strongly as yours

• you easily know what makes someone tick

• you’re selfless

• you’re able to admit your mistakes and apologize

• you’re respectful and actively listen to people when they talk about themselves

• you don’t push people down to make yourself seem better

• you try to make everyone feel good and comfortable

• you’re everything he isn’t

• because you fit in Heaven perfectly

• you deserve to be there

• and Adam knows that he doesn’t belong (subconsciously at least)

• you’re able to draw people in just for being yourself

• and he’s envious of it

• so he demeans you and is snarky about everything you do, and every time people give you praise or affection, he tries to divert the attention to himself or just stares at you with utter hatred from afar

• although all of that is just when he hasn’t even had a conversation with you

• after a while of being around you, he’ll cling to you because you give him the reassurance and validation he oh-so craves (he acts as if he didn’t hate you before. What do you mean? You two were always buddy-buddy!)

• you acknowledge all of the things he puts his worth to

• heck, you hang out with him—you sometimes even initiate it—willingly, and you’re genuinely interested in everything he has to say

• but he‘ll only hang out with you where no one recognizes you (so you don’t get all the attention)

• terrible transition here, but he notices that you mimic people’s expressions often

• he definitely makes fun of you for it

• and also mocks you

• up until he realizes that you do the same thing to him, too

• which is fine and all, if only you didn’t do that when he’s upset

• well, you mimic him when he’s joyous as well, but he (already subconsciously) expects you to. I mean, why wouldn’t you? He’s fucking hilarious!

• so you copying his negative emotions just stands out more

• and he…doesn’t like it

• that’s only really what he doesn’t like about you

• and the fact that you hog all the attention

• and the fact that people see you as perfect…

• buuut what happens when he gets to see a new side of you that isn’t exactly upholding that image?

———

Your phone lit up from your bedside table, brightening your otherwise dark room along with the soft glow of your halo. You only moved your eyes to the light, not wanting your tears to spill and dampen your pillows.

You had an inkling as to who was texting you this late—if the fact that your phone lighting up several times in the span of 5 minutes had anything to say.

When the texts stopped pouring in after a few seconds, you heavily sighed, wings ruffling. You resisted the urge to rub your face as you went to grab your phone.

HEY (2:34) HEY (2:34) HEY (2:34) ARE YOU UP? (2:35) I’M BORED (2:35) GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE (2:36) IF YOU’RE UP (2:37) ARE YOU? (2:38) DID I TELL YOU THAT BITCH WITH THE HUGE TITS GOT FIRED TODAY? (2:39)

Figured. Of course, it was Adam. He was the only person you knew who’d be awake at this ungodly hour. And the only person you knew who’d disturb your peace if it meant curing anything that ailed him. Which was now about boredom, it seemed.

You read a few of his texts displayed on your lock screen before tapping one of the notifications and opening the app, scanning the rest of the unread messages.

Adam was going on about ‘that bitch with the huge tits’—her name was Tiffany, you were sure—and how she was rumored to have slept with an archangel to assume higher authority. He also went on to complain about how he didn’t have the chance to bed her anymore since she was basically deemed an outcast and that he couldn’t be seen with someone like her.

You frowned, not believing any of it, but you didn’t have time to think about it enough when he began typing again.

SO YOU’RE AWAKE (2:43)

You barely finished reading the new message when another one popped up.

DON’T IGNORE ME BITCH (2:43)

You frowned deeper, quick to type out a reply.

i’m not (2:43) i was just reading your texts (2:43) don’t worry (2:43) i’ll be there soon (2:44)

When he stopped typing, you placed your phone back on the nightstand, sitting up on your bed as you carefully wiped away your teary eyes. You hugged yourself for a moment, wings functioning as a cocoon while a hand tugged on your hair.

Today had been draining—both mentally and emotionally. Just like the day before, and the day before that. But you didn’t want to think about it, lest you start to cry some more and smear your face with tears this time. What mattered was that everyone was back on their feet again.

Since you didn’t bother changing into your sleepwear when you got home, you only checked your face in the mirror to see if your eyes were puffy or not. You then took in deep breaths, holding up your drooping wings before putting up a charming smile.

You couldn’t stay in the bathroom for long, quickly leaving to tread the path to Adam’s.

•••

“BOO!” Adam’s masked face suddenly peeked from the corner of his hallway, earning an indescribable scream from you as you jerked back. He burst out laughing, brows creased in confusion but also amusement. He couldn’t even make fun of you for getting scared. “What the—what the fuck was that scream?”

Recovering rather quickly as you blinked, you only smiled at him. You were expecting him to wait for you on his couch as his front door was left unlocked, but you weren’t complaining; his action took away any drowsiness you just had.

When Adam didn’t hear you laugh with him, his laughter subsided as he opened his eyes to look at your face. He raised his brows and placed the back of his hands on his hips. “What’s up with you?”

Shit. There was no way Adam was seeing through you.

“Nothing; I just love hearing you laugh.” You heard a tiny squeak in response. “Anyway, what did you make me come over for? Surely not just to scare me.” You moved past Adam and tightly crossed your arms, entering his spacious living room.

“Pshh, fuck no. You’re so easy to spook. Though that was a first. Didn’t know you could hit high notes, (Name).”

You didn’t know what to say to his…compliment? And sort of insult? Was it really either of them? Should you thank him? But in a sarcastic way? No, you weren’t known for being sarcastic, so he might think you were being genuine and look at you weirdly. And it would also seem highly egotistical.

Not as if Adam had much to say about that…

You tugged at your hair when you caught yourself with those thoughts. Shit, that’s so rude! You can’t think that! You shouldn’t think that!

You settled on an awkward chuckle, making yourself appear smaller as you averted your eyes to his TV space.

It was different, certainly. The modular couch pieces were rearranged into a pit sectional. And it looked as though he had chucked a bunch of pillows and one large blanket as an afterthought. It appeared messy, but at least it looked cozy.

“What’s this?”

“Hm? Oh, well, since you were taking your sweet ass time coming here, I thought to switch things up a bit.” You flinched when his head appeared right on your shoulder. “What’d ya think?”

“It looks super comfy.” Adam wore a goofy grin behind you as you walked closer to the area and noticed that he already prepared snacks on the low table. “Is this a way to say you wanna do a movie marathon?”

“You know it, baby.” He flew past you and landed on the sofa, patting the space beside him with a smile you just couldn’t reject.

•••

Heaven’s natural light beginning to peek through the open windows indicated that it was already dawn. Thank goodness you didn’t have work today.

You two—or rather, Adam—had settled on watching the film series, Die Hard. Every single one. You didn’t mind, but you didn’t understand why Adam invited you over if you two were just going to rewatch the film series for the eighth time.

He had also been pretty immersed in the large screen in front of him, so he hadn’t attempted to converse with you ever since the first movie started. In all honesty, he could have just watched them all by himself.

But you didn’t question it. This time was the same as the last seven, after all. You always concluded that maybe he just wanted someone to watch movies with, no talking necessary. Even if the no-talking part sounded a bit out of character.

Was it though? Because he did that quite often. For instance, he constantly brought you along to whatever mundane errands he had to do during the weekdays and never really talked with you unless he found something cool and pointed it out.

Although, the earlier times you tagged along with him on his errands, he kept yapping his mouth off about the ‘totally awesome’ things he does. He talked about music, his own albums, his band, women, sex, and himself as the first-ever man.

As time went on, however, the talking was replaced with silence. You wondered if he just ran out of things to say or if he found it unnecessary to talk anymore.

You also sometimes wondered what was going through his head when he thought you didn’t see him glancing at you while he was doing something he believed was boring.

The sound of Adam’s stomach rumbling broke you out of your train of thought.

You both looked at each other blankly as if either of you were to blame.

He blinked to break the eye contact between you. “(Name), I’m hungry.”

You snorted, facing ahead. “You ate all of our snacks before the first movie even finished.”

“Don’t blame me.” He hugged the pillow he held tighter. “I’m still fuckin’ hungry, though.”

You hummed as you reached for your pocket. “Do you want me to—oh. I…I forgot my phone.” You frowned. You never forget to bring your belongings.

Adam merely stared at you, unblinking.

You averted your eyes and held your legs tighter. “Uhm, We could get delivery if you want. Can you lend me your phone?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” He casually tossed you the device before laying on his back and looking up at you. “I’m down for anything.”

His phone hit your knee before you could catch it, silently landing on the cushions. “Are you sure?” You picked it up, opened his unlocked phone, and stared at his basic home screen.

He didn’t really use his phone that often to know that it could be changed. He only really used it to fetch one-night stands or occasional dates, text, play music aloud, look at outdated memes, take random blurry photos, and right now, order delivery.

“Totally.” His crow’s feet displayed on his mask as he puffed out his cheeks.

“Because last time you said that, you didn’t like what I had to pick.”

“That’s because the 5 ʼn 2 is so fucking overrated!” he suddenly started to complain. Your wings ruffled. “Jeez, I swear, every fuckin’ time I take a chick out and ask her what her favorite eatery is, basic bitches always go, ‘Oh, bREaD & fIsH, ceRTAinLy’ or ‘bReAD & FiSh’S a cLAsSIC’” He used his hand as a puppet to imitate their words before waving it. “Like, helloooo? Can’t you see the joint that’s literally on the other side of the street’s a hundred times superior? It’s cheaper, too, unlike Bread & Fish. Overpriced ass. You get me, right—?”

“Then you pick!” Adam jumped at your volume, and your eyes widened upon noticing yourself. You quickly gave back his phone as you turned your face away from him, and he slowly took it with a weird look.

“Shit, chill, (Name). The fuck’s up your ass?” He kept his gaze on you before turning to his phone.

While he was serious about his opinions of your bland tastes, he didn’t think it was that personal. Your preferences were the same as everyone else and that was boring. He was just being honest. And you usually didn’t take the things he said that seriously.

“Adam, I’m sorry,” you spoke up after a moment of silence and ran a hand through your hair. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“ʼs not a problem.” He was still a bit weirded out, but he was willing to shrug it off.

You insisted, however, “I mean it. I’m not mad at you.”

“Okay…?” he muttered when he saw a notification pop up from Lute. Her message consisted of how some of the exterminators got into a quarrel during roll call and the ones involved got injured in the process. She said she was going to discipline them.

Adam did not want to know what she meant by that and was most likely not going to stop by their place today.

“Really. I’m not. Sorry. It’s just that yesterday’s been…”

“Uh-huh…” At this point, Adam was not listening to anything you were saying. But when he still heard the static noise that was your words, he groaned. “Look, sweetie, I really don’t give a fuckin’ shit about your fuckin’ apology, ʼkay? I don’t fuckin’ care. Now what do you want?”

You saw Adam’s confused yet concerned expression after he looked up from his phone and immediately noticed that you were starting to cry. You instantly turned your face away as you carefully wiped your eyes.

“Sorry. Sorry. I’m not crying because of you.” You didn’t know if that was true. You didn’t know if you were crying because of his words or were crying because of everything else.

That was the first time he ever used a sweet petname for you in a long time. He only ever used that to demean or mock other people.

Shit. Stop thinking—you were going to cry more. But even after carefully wiping your eyes away, new tears kept flowing. You couldn’t stop. This was humiliating. You wanted to disappear. You didn’t want anyone to witness you in this state. It was mortifying.

“Shit.” Adam’s voice came out panicky as he held his hands out towards you, but he hesitated. Hesitated in what, he didn’t even know.

He…didn’t think you could cry.

Adam didn’t know what to do; this emotional shit wasn’t his thing. He couldn’t ask you to leave, he knew that much, but he didn’t want to leave himself. This was his place. Why should he leave?

So, he did the only thing he could do in this situation.

You suddenly felt something warm envelop you.

You didn’t look up, but you knew it was Adam. You could feel the texture of his robe on your hands and the side of your face. You could feel his hands on your shoulder blade, but you couldn’t quite feel his arms on you.

You stopped wiping your eyes for a moment.

No one had ever hugged you before when you were sad.

No one had ever let you be sad.

Adam heard you sob.

Fucking great. He made it worse. What the fuck was he supposed to do then?

But when he went to unwrap his arms, he felt yours slip around his midsection, pulling him closer than before as he grunted from your firm hold.

So you wanted to be hugged? Alright. Whatever.

Adam slowly hugged you back after you muttered a ‘sorry’ and loosened your grip.

The next seconds were silent, so when he heard muffled words coming from you, he looked down. You also looked up moments later when he didn’t respond, realizing he must’ve not heard you.

Your gaze softened as you two held eye contact, and with teary eyes, you smiled. “Thank you, Adam.”

Something about his expression changed, but before you could stare any longer, you felt a hand behind your head push you back to his chest as the arm on your back held you tight.

“Yeah, whatever…”

#hazbin hotel x reader #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam #kinopiowrites

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lydiimae · 2 months

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Home.

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

18+ MDI

Based on a request you can find here <3

Warnings: angst, mentions of family member death, mentions of alcohol, arranged marriage, awful reader relationship with mother, vaginal sex, nipple play, vaginal fingering, praise, making love

A.N: Hello my loves, and hello to my lovely anon. I'm so sorry for being MIA, I had midterms and good god they almost killed me ‘︿’. Anon- I hope that this is what you wanted, I am not the most experienced in writing angst but I found this quite fun (perhaps my love of making a dramatic story lol). Thank you all for the love, as always. Mwah ≧◡≦

He did not expect you to change so much in your time away. Sure he expected you to mature in the four years you were gone, you were coming back at the new age of twenty-one. He just did not expect all of the light, the light he loved, to be gone. His Y/N had changed. She had gone from warm to cold, from happy to sad, in such a short time.

Your father and his father were close friends. Both of them being Viscounts meant that they spent a lot of time together. You, being the eldest of your family but also too young and rowdy to really click with Anthony, got on just as well with Benedict. There was always an unspoken love between the two of you that neither of you were brave enough to admit.

The only one with who you got on better than Benedict, was your father. It was apparent for anyone to see that the two of you had a unique bond. A bond that you most certainly didn't hold for your mother. She was cold and extremely cruel, your father had only married her for convenience. So, when your father died, Benedict expected you to be devastated. Who wouldn't be? He had been sick for many years before his death, a case of scarlet fever that just never went away. It was expected, but that did not mean it was less painful.

The night he passed, you showed up at his family's doorstep in tears begging for the footman to bring him down. So, after being woken up by said footman, he tugged on a robe and rushed down the stairs. He saw you and immediately knew. He rushed to you and scooped you up in his arms before taking you up into his bedroom and soothing you into sleep. Proper decorum be dammed, he stayed with you the entire night and then had a carriage bring you back home at dawn.

A week later, you, your mother, and your younger sister showed up at the Bridgerton's door dressed in all black. Violet led you all into the drawing room and gathered the rest of the Bridgertons as well, after hearing your mother mention that she would like her dear friends to be present for a big announcement, always the attention hog. Benedict was dragged in by Eloise, expecting another lecture about the upcoming social season, but his face quickly fell when he saw you.

You already looked so defeated, so tired. You looked up and forced a sad smile, moving over on the sofa so he could sit next to you. He walked towards you quickly, and sat down next in the space you made, discretely offering his hand. Your face softened, and he could tell you were holding back tears, but nevertheless, you gripped his hand tight in your own before focusing your attention on your mother.

"We are going to France, where my family lives. I feel the girls should get to know the rest of their heritage now that their father has passed on." She says bluntly, the cold look on her face never changing. His eyes widen and instantly snap over to you, internally pleading with whatever power he can think of that this is not true. That you will not be swept away before he even has the chance to try and win you over.

You are chewing on your bottom lip, the anxious habit you have had ever since you were young. You look over at him slowly, your eyes filled with unshed tears that he knows you will not let fall. That is when he knows that it is true. His Y/N is leaving. For God knows how long. To be stolen by God knows who.

You sigh as you get out of the carriage that has trapped you for the past eight hours, stretching out your limbs before taking in the scenery. That damn two-day carriage ride from the port had been nothing but exhausting. The estate you grew up in is standing tall right in front of you, and yet it is almost unrecognizable now.

It looked the same, sure, but something about it seemed a lot less colorful without your father. The impending doom of your arranged marriage hanging over your head probably didn't help that fact either. Your mother had been clear in what she wanted when you got to France, a rich man. Not for herself, but for you. Someone who could expand upon the rather large dowery your father had left you. Someone who could make her rich, your happiness be damned.

And so that is just what you found. The hunt for a suitable husband had begun a year after you arrived in Paris, your eighteenth birthday coming and going without a peep from anyone but your sister, Lucy, and a long letter from Benedict. Your grandmother was just as cruel as your mother, if not more so. She quickly introduced you to a man named Noele Beaumont, a man in high-up places in French nobility. An extremely wealthy man.

In the three and a half years you had known him, the two of you had done nothing but fight. Well, the fighting consisted entirely of him shouting at you until you were either in tears or hidden away in the closet somewhere, your chest rising and falling much too fast. It seemed that cruelty was, in some sick and twisted way, attracted to you.

Your mother, after much convincing, had allowed you and Noele to take your home in London upon marriage. That, and, she had allowed for the marriage to be held in England. You were home, finally home, and now you were realizing that it does not matter if you are home or not. The world had lost its color.

"Y/N, whatever is the matter?" Lucy piques up from beside you, taking your hand. "I miss him, Luc. That is all. I miss him and I wish that he were the one here instead of mother." You whisper, wiping an escaped tear from your eye with the back of your hand before turning to your sister. "But at least I have you, and at least we are home." She smiles sadly in response, gently leading you inside.

Your mother greeted you both with a flat expression, having insisted on traveling home a week before to make sure nothing had gone awry in the years that you had been gone. Noele and his family will join you in a month, during the week of the marriage. It seems that neither of you wish to spend more time with each other than necessary. "You have a letter already, Y/N. From one of the Bridgerton's. Do make haste of reading it, we have no time for silliness." She mutters, handing it to you before walking off with your sister.

You sigh and walk into the drawing room after handing your cloak to a maid with a smile. You look around the familiar room and breathe deeply, hoping for the comforting smell of the tea your father used to brew, but are quickly disappointed when all you smell is your mother's obnoxious perfume. You sit down on the chair by the bookshelf and open the letter.

You recognize the handwriting immediately, Benedict. He wishes to see you as soon as he can, but more importantly, he has asked you to be a model in the latest portrait he is painting for his classes at the academy. You smile softly to yourself, taking in the woodsy scent that comes off the letter, the world getting a bit brighter if only for a moment. You sigh and walk up to your bedroom, smiling at the comfort that washes over you, before sitting down and drafting a letter of your own, telling him that you will make time for him come noon tomorrow.

You run your fingers over the parchment when you have finished signing your name. So many words left unsaid. You smile sadly and fold up the letter, sealing it with the wax crest of your family before passing it to a maid with instructions to take it to the Bridgerton household before the evening comes.

Oh, how you despise your mother. After about two hours of arguing yesterday, she had finally given up and allowed you to go and see Benedict. You were used to the names she called you, 'whore' and 'harlot' being the two she most often used, but she had far stepped over the line yesterday.

She had run out of insults to call you and moved on to Benedict. Insulting his artwork, his standing in his family, his habits, anything she could grasp at she used.

"You are to be married to a nobleman in a month, Y/N! You will be tainted by that boy, he is nothing but a disgrace! His head has always been in the clouds, you know that!" She shouted from where she stood in your bedroom. You grit your teeth. "Take that back this instant, you moron! That family has done everything for us! He has done everything for me, he cares more about me than you could ever dream of!" You shouted right back.

She had gone on for at least a half-hour more, finally giving up when Lucy walked in and pleaded with the both of you to stop. "You are nothing but a whore looking for attention, Y/N. You will ruin yourself with him. You will, and I will not help you out of the hole you dig yourself into." Your mother huffed, before turning and walking out of your bedroom.

Your sister had stayed with you last night. You had fallen asleep in her embrace, nothing but a mess of sobs. You wished for nothing more than to go to him right now and run away to the countryside, and leave all of it behind. But you had a duty, you had to look out for Lucy's happiness so she would not be doomed to the life that you are now forced to live.

You had woken up in the early morning, your lady's maid helping you into a dark blue dress before leaving you to your own devices. You spent the hours up until eleven reading and avoiding your mother like the plague. You walked downstairs once it was time to leave for the Bridgerton estate.

A short carriage ride later and there you are, in the same position that you were four and a half years ago, knocking on his door with tears in your eyes. You had become emotional about five minutes out, overcome with the joy of finally seeing him. Finally being able to speak to him, rather than imagining what his voice sounded like when you read his letters. You had missed the feeling of home when you were around him, you had missed how the world looked when he was in it. You had missed him.

He had been unable to sleep once he had written your letter, and unable to do anything but read in the drawing room in the hours before your arrival. He was sitting on pins and needles, waiting for the familiar sound of a knock on the front door to come so he could rush to it before any of the servants. He wanted your welcome home to be comforting, as he had known how much you had been through in France.

When he had gotten the letter explaining the marriage you had been dragged into he locked himself in his studio for weeks on end, being unreachable to anyone, even Eloise. He had spent the first two laying on the chaise, looking up at the ceiling with an unstoppable rush of tears slipping down his cheeks which only stopped when he fell into a restless sleep.

The tears turned to anger, which he let out through pages upon pages of poetry. Confessing his love, damming his foolishness or lack of words, berating himself into oblivion for why could he be so stupid as to not tell you to wait for him? To hold onto hope that he would save you?

Then the weeks of anger turned to inspiration, hours spent drowning his sadness with art. Countless paintings of you, of your favorite flowers, of the hill the both of you held so many memories upon, anything that could get him out of the depression he had been sucked into. It was the point that he was at now, a melancholic feeling lingering over his head that he refuses to let himself feel.

The knock comes right when the clock strikes twelve and he practically throws his book to the side, rushing to the door and throwing it open. You are finally home.

The tears start before you can stop them and he quickly tugs you inside, closing the door before wrapping his arms around you. You bury your face into the crook of his neck, and finally, after months of not allowing yourself to cry, you sob. You sob hard, a million pent-up emotions releasing like the snap of a string in your chest.

You look up at him through your teary eyes and smile. "I have missed you dearly, Benedict." You whisper a hidden meaning you hope he can uncover buried beneath your words. He flashes that silly crooked smile you have come to adore before ruffling your hair. "I have missed you too, Y/N. You will never know how much I missed you." He says, wiping your tears before taking a step back.

"You have grown up. You look so... mature." He comments, almost as if he is trying to figure out something about you. Something that even you cannot decipher. You smile in return. "You have as well. I believe I have the right to call you an old man now." You hum, beginning down the hall to where you know the room he has painted in his entire life is.

He chuckles from behind you, before following. "I am but eight and twenty." He whines playfully and you laugh. "That is two years away from thirty, and if Anthony is old then so are you." You opine, looking back over your shoulder at him before stopping in front of his studio's door. He grins and nudges your shoulder before opening the door for you.

You marvel at the surrounding room when you walk in. You knew that he was a good artist, it came naturally to him, but he had improved in your time away. You walk into the center of the room, walking in a slow circle to take in all of his works which line the walls and stack up upon the floor. Most are of women in various states of dress, ever the lady's man Benedict Bridgerton.

You are glad that some things do not change, but it also makes a strange feeling of longing bubble up in your chest. You wish to be naked like the women in the paintings, talking and flirting with him for hours on end. Making love to him when the heat of the room becomes too much. You wish to wake up to him beside you in the morning, for every morning for the rest of time.

You shake the feeling off and look over at him, noticing that he has already taken his place behind the easel. It looks as if he has already started his sketch. "It is gorgeous in here, Ben. You are the most talented artist in all of England." You say, a look of pure adoration in your eyes that he immediately picks up on.

You wish to die with nothing but the image of that sweet pink color that overtakes his cheeks to remember. He quickly turns his attention to his canvas and nods slightly, clearing his throat. "And you are the best flatterer in all of England. Thank you Y/N." He says quietly. When you begin to turn to face him fully he holds up his hand. "I quite liked the position you were in when you were looking over your shoulder. If it is not too uncomfortable, might you hold it? You had the most beautiful look in your eye." He says kindly, looking up to meet your eyes.

It's your turn to blush at both his kindness and his way of complimenting you. He had always said these types of things in passing, not realizing how much they affected you. You nod and take your original place in the room making him smile. "Perfect, as always." He whispers to himself before returning to the sketch.

After about an hour and a half, your legs grow tired. "Benedict, might we take a break? My legs are getting achy." You say, and he meets your eyes. "Of course, I shall have the maids bring us some tea and you can tell me more about your time in France." He says, gesturing with his arm for you to sit on the chaise that sits by the window.

You do so gladly, taking in the image of him wiping his hands of charcoal. You blush at the thought of the feeling of those hands around your waist, or cupping your cheeks. God, this is torture. You wait for him to come back, which only takes a moment.

He sits down next to you and offers his hand. You look down at it and smile softly, taking it in your own just like you used to. What happens next, you could have never predicted in a million years. He lifts your gloved hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it. Your eyes widen and you open your mouth to speak, but you are quickly cut off by him slowly kissing up your arm.

"Benedict stop." You whisper in a tone that is a far cry away from the authority you wished for that statement to have. He doesn't, he presses kisses to your elbow, continuing to work up your arm. "Benedict, I am serious we mustn't." You say, a bit firmer as tears gather in your eyes, but he still does not relent. "Benedict!" You shout, ripping your arm away and standing up.

"Oh please." He scoffs. "Do not tell me you did not wish for me to do just that." He says, standing up with you and stepping close. "Have you gone utterly mad?! I am to be married by the end of the month!" You shout in return. You wish for nothing more than for him to continue but he cannot. You have a man to marry, a sister to set free. Nothing can come between that.

"You do not love him! You have told me those words exactly!" He shouts back and you shake your head, beginning to walk out of the room. You get all of two feet away before he grabs your arm, pulling you to his chest. He leans down, his breath ghosting over your ear. "I have loved you since we were children, Y/N." Your heart shatters when he whispers the word love in your ear.

"You cannot do this now." You say, trying to tug out of his grasp but he keeps his hold tight. "I have to say it now, I have been a fool. I have kept my mouth shut for far too long, but I can save you. I can take you far away from this place, I-" He starts, but you are quick to cut in.

"How could you possibly save me, Benedict?!" You shout, finally getting away. You turn around and look at him dead in the eye, your eyes beginning to water. "By running away?! We cannot! My sister will be left to deal with that woman all by herself and then my fate will be hers! I cannot let that happen!" You shout, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"I left and came back married and suddenly you gain the confidence to say this now?! It is far too late!" You sob. His face softens and he brings you into a tight embrace, one hand at the back of your head while the other runs up and down your back. "You are too late. Why did you wait?" You sob into his chest and he says nothing, allowing you to cry.

He places his chin on the top of your head as he rubs your back, rocking you from side to side. "You must think of yourself, Y/N. Your happiness. Your father left you his money for a reason, you know that." He whispers after a few minutes of listening to your sobs. You look up at him and he cups your cheek with the hand that was on your head. "Your mother, however terrifying she may be, does not hold the power over you she once did. Your father made sure of that." He continues.

"You own the estate, you have the money, and you can make your own decisions. You just need to tell her, you must be brave." He whispers as your crying calms. "But what if she... what if she does something to Lucy-" "She will not. She will not have the power to." He interrupts.

Lucy is capable, you know that much is true. You also know that he is right, you have the money and the house, and therefore you have the power. A final gift from your father that you were too scared to realize. You look up at him and before you can think twice about it, you press your lips to his.

He smiles into the kiss and pulls back after a moment, pressing his forehead to yours. "You are a fool, Benedict Bridgerton." You whisper, taking a deep breath. He chuckles. "Perhaps, but I am also a fool who wishes for nothing more than to marry you." He says and you smile. "I shall do what you suggest, what my father meant for me to do." You whisper and he nods. "And I will be right there with you." He murmurs before kissing you again.

After an hour of warm tea and affectionate words, he takes you back to your estate. You go back and forth with your mother for an hour, trying to be kind, but it is when she starts the insults that you snap. You threaten to sell the house in France and never speak to her ever again, let alone give her any money, and she quickly shuts up.

You write Noele and the engagement is called off within the week. For once you thank the man's hatred of you, for it made him all too eager to get away. The engagement between you and Benedict is announced the next week, and the wedding is planned for two months in advance. The ton gossips about the timeline, of course, but the two of you pay no mind. You have both waited far too long to get married, why wait even longer?

You lie restless in bed the week before your marriage, your thoughts filled with nothing but him. The kiss you shared when he confessed running through your mind, sending tingles between your legs. The hot feeling that overcomes your body makes you want to do the things you saw men and women do in the paintings that lined the walls of your favorite salon in Paris.

Sex. You knew what it was, anyone who spent more than five seconds in Paris knew what it was. You had fantasized about it before, only ever with Benedict. You wanted his hard cock buried deep inside of you for hours on end, you wanted his head between your thighs, your lips around his length. You wanted all of it, yet he had insisted on waiting until your wedding night.

You sigh, tugging on the silk sheets and rubbing your thighs together to try and ease the dull ache that settled in your core, whining in frustration when the feeling did not go away. You hear the tapping on your window, almost as if it was hailing in the middle of May.

You stand and walk to the large window that leads out to a view of the garden. A pebble hits the glass and you jump, placing a hand over your now racing heart, and look down at the garden. You grin when you find your fiance looking up at you with the crooked grin that has such a hold on your heart. You open the window and lean out.

"What on earth are you doing down there?" You laugh, leaning your elbows on the window and placing your chin on your hand. "You are meant to say something about Romeo." He calls back, his grin only widening as you giggle more. "I shall not. You must answer my question." You smile.

"You are no fun." He groans, dropping the pebbles on the ground. "I wished to see you. I have been nothing but restless tonight and I thought I would spend that restlessness with you. Might I come up?" He calls, already beginning to climb the lattice that lines the estate walls. You nod, even though he did not wait. "I am quite restless as well." You sigh, watching him climb. "You do not need to sneak, mother is already back in France and Lucy cares not of what we do." You hum as he climbs through the window.

He wraps his arms around you and picks you up. "It is more romantic to sneak through the window." He murmurs in your ear as you wrap your legs around his waist. "It was very romantic, I promise you." You whisper as he lays you back on the bed, stripping down to his trousers before sliding into bed with you and pulling the covers up over the both of you.

He nuzzles your neck and places his hands on your hips, pulling you close. It's quite an innocent gesture, but it sends that tingle you were experiencing earlier to your core. Arousal begins to dampen your panties and you press yourself against him, silently asking for more.

He smirks against your skin when you rub up against him. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your neck before leaning back to look at you. "It seems you were restless for the same reason as I was, love." He teases, which makes you blush. He chuckles and cups your cheek, running his thumb along your cheekbone. "Might I request something of you?" He whispers.

"Of course." You return, leaning into his touch and closing your eyes. "I wish to make love to you, now. I cannot wait one more second, and I most certainly cannot wait until our wedding night" He whispers in your ear, kissing the skin below it.

He makes a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, making you moan softly in response. "Please." Is all you can manage as he bites down on the skin of your shoulder, making sure to leave a mark. He grins and pulls back, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You return it eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck. This time, a moan slips past his lips and his hands tighten around your hips.

He moves his hands down your legs, slipping them under your nightgown and cupping your breasts. You whine and break the kiss, pressing your forehead to his as you pant. He watches the look in your eye as his thumbs swipe over your hardened nipples, making your mouth fall open. He groans at the guttural moan that escapes you before taking his hands away and throwing back the covers.

"Benedict please." You breathe, grasping at his arms. He grins but shakes his head. "Patience my love. It will feel so much better if I tease you." He opines, unbuttoning his britches. You gasp when they come off, leaving him in nothing. His cock stands proud against his stomach, it is big and thick, much bigger than you imagined. You grow antsy with the fear that it will not fit inside.

He senses your apprehension and bends down, peppering your face with kisses. "Worry not, dearest, you need only to tell me to stop or to wait and I shall." He whispers, patting your hips as a signal to sit up, which you do. "I will get you plenty warmed up for me, I promise." He breathes against your skin, making you shiver.

He lifts your nightgown up and over your head, throwing it to where the rest of his clothes lay against the floor. He groans at the sight of you in nothing but your panties, his cock twitching with delight. He unties the ribbons that hold your underwear up on your hips, throwing them across the room before capturing your peaked nipple in his mouth.

Your head shoots back and you cry out, laying back on the bed. He follows, situating himself on top of you without releasing your nipple. His tongue swirls around the hardened bud as his other hand cups your other breast, his thumb and pointer finger tweaking your nipple.

Arousal drips down your thighs as you cant your hips up, desperate for more. He growls when the soft skin of your stomach meets his already weeping cock. He pulls back from your nipple, moving the hand that is not occupied with your breast down to your hips. He presses down on your hip bone and you whine when you realize you have lost your ability to brush against him.

"You are doing so well, darling. You mustn't move, it is making me want to bury my cock inside you right now and fuck you until you see stars." You moan at the thought, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him into another kiss. He grins against your mouth, letting you kiss him for a moment before pulling away and moving his hand off of your breast.

He moves that hand down to your hips, pressing down with just as much force as the other did. The one that was on your hips moves to your breast just as he takes your nipple into your mouth, giving your breasts the same treatment as before.

You are a moaning mess beneath him, your thighs and cunt soaked with your arousal as sweat drips down your neck. "Please, Ben... Need more. I... more." You whine, tugging on his hair. He lifts his head and smiles, making your heart flutter. He can go from a growling, groaning man to a loving partner in just seconds. It's intoxicating.

"Tell me where you need it, sweet girl." He whispers, kissing down your stomach and stopping just above your pubic hair, inhaling almost lewdly with a groan. You whine and your cheeks turn rosy with embarrassment.

"Between my legs..." You whisper, pressing your face into the pillow as the embarrassment of wanting him so much washes over you. He pats your thigh gently, making you look down at him. "Louder. Do not be ashamed. I want it just as much as you do." He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your abdomen.

You smile softly, warmth blooming in your chest. You sigh and let out a breathy moan as he sucks on the skin just above where you wish he would. "I want you between my legs, Benedict. Please. I.. have thought of nothing else for nights." You beg, loudly now as his kisses turn sloppy.

He groans at the thought of you laying in bed, unable to sleep because of the thought of him fucking you, of him pleasing you with his fingers or your tongue, with your hand between your legs. Rubbing at your swollen clit until you come calling his name. He wishes for nothing else than to watch.

He runs his fingers through your soaked folds, the both of you moaning in unison. He rubs his nose through your patch of hair before pressing his tongue against your engorged clit, sucking and swirling as he pushes one of his long fingers into your body, making you cry out.

You silently thank God that Lucy insisted on sleeping in the room downstairs, as now you do not have to silence the steady stream of moans that slip from your lips as he sucks and fingers you into a headspace you have never been to.

You clench around his fingers as he slips another one into your tight hold, his tongue still swirling around your clit. Your hand shoots down to grab at his hair when he starts thrusting and curling his fingers into your body, the other grasping the silk sheets that rest across your bed.

You scream his name when his fingers find a spongey spot inside you that sends a bolt of pleasure right to your already abused clit, and you see stars. You gush down your thighs and his chin, and he pulls out his fingers. He peeks up from below, wiping his face with the back of his hand before sucking your juices from his fingers.

The sight sends you back into a state of arousal so strong that all you can think about is his big cock ripping you open as he fills you to the hilt. He grins when he sees the look in your eye, coming back up so he can give you another open-mouthed kiss. You wrap your legs around his waist and he moans deeply, an almost feral noise coming from somewhere deep inside him.

He breaks the kiss and presses his forehead to yours once more, kissing your nose. "Can I?" He gusts, his breath hot against your skin. "Please." You whisper back, taking one of his hands in yours, the other resting upon his shoulder.

That is all the incentive he needs, he slowly pushes into your body, groaning loudly at how tight you are. You cry out, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulder. He bottoms out and moves his forehead to rest on your shoulder, waiting for you to adjust. God he's so close already, the thought of being the first and only one to take you enough to make him come, but he holds back.

After a moment he looks up at you and you nod, needing him to fuck you hard. That is just what he does. He sets a brutal pace, his thighs meeting yours as your ankles rest on his hips. You cry out and squeeze his hand as his tip nudges the same spot his fingers do, making you clench.

"Fuck." He grunts, picking up the pace as he chases his release. He pounds into you now, making you nothing but a moaning piece of putty ready to be molded by his hands. "Benedict- Again.. I'm going to..." You whine and he nods, pressing his lips to yours as his thumb finds your clit.

Your back arches as you reach your peak once more, dragging your nails down his back and leaving angry red marks on his skin. That is what sends him over the edge, spilling his seed deep inside of you before collapsing on top of you.

After a moment he pulls out and rolls onto his back, catching his breath before standing up and walking to the bathroom, leaving you on the bed to do the same. You rest your arms over your eyes as your breathing calms. He comes back with a washcloth and cleans up the mess he made before snuggling up to you in bed.

You flip onto your side and snuggle up to him, his arms encircling your body immediately. He presses a kiss to your forehead and traces the ridges of your spine with his fingers. "I love you." You whisper, already half asleep.

He smiles at the sight of you drowsy and flushed, his hand coming up to stroke your hair. "And I love you, my heart." He whispers back, closing his eyes and quickly following you into slumber.

Oh, what a joy it is to finally feel at home.

915 notes · View notes

mattslolita · 3 months

Text

lights down low - c. sturniolo

in which ... chris wins another show during the versus tour so he fucks you like a champion. bf!chris x black!fem reader

warnings ; smut , unprotected piv , semi-public sex , oral ( male receiving ) dom!chris, overstim

"𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒉 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒊 𝒉𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒕."

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱

you smiled softly behind stage as the winner was announced — once again, chris had won another show and so far he was in the lead. you couldn't make it to his other shows, so you thought it was a good idea to let nick and matt know you were coming to this show to surprise him.

as the show ended and the triplets said their goodbyes to the fans, they began to head backstage, which is where you waited nervously. nick saw you first, a grin immediately spreading onto his face as he was the first one to wrap his arms around you.

"oh my gosh twin, i missed you so bad!" you gushed as you hugged him back tighter.

"there's no way, i missed you way more!" nick laughs, as the two break apart.

"y/n!" came the sound of matt's voice next, and you squealed as you pulled him into a hug.

"bestie, i missed you!" you say, hugging matt and swaying back and forth a bit, "you need to get back up on yo grind, cause you only winning one show is not it."

"how about you go shoot some hoops, then?" matt says with an eyeroll, causing you to playfully push his arm way.

"baby? you're here?"

chris's voice causes matt to step aside as you grin sheepishly upon seeing your boyfriend chris — he wore a black beanie which had some of hair soft brown hair sticking out of it and a matching black hoodie. but even with the simplicity of his outfit, he still looked so fine.

"i missed you so much, ma," chris said, immediately going to scoop you up in his arms.

you took in the scent of his dior savauge cologne, inhaling deeply as he wrapped his arms around your waist holding you close to him — he held him in by the neck, running your hands through his hair as you softly pulled as the brown locks that adorned his head.

"okay, please get a room!" nick groaned, causing you both to pull away from the sweet embrace, "and stop hogging y/n, we missed her too!"

"not as much as i missed that pussy," chris whispered in your ear, causing your eyes to widen.

"boy!" you said, smacking his arm lightly which in turn causes him to give a light smack to your ass. "you play too damn much."

"oh come on baby, don't treat the champion like that," chris grins, looking down at you hungrily. "you know, i was thinking of you to help me win."

"oh really?" you ask, your big doe eyes staring up at him innocently, "and what're you gonna do with me now that you've won?"

"enjoy my trophy."

"fuck baby, just like that," chris moans, throwing his head back as he holds a firm grip on your hair.

you look him in the eyes as you swirl your tongue around his throbbing tip before taking him into your mouth — tears brim at your eyes as he thrusts into your mouth at a steady pace, causing you to deep throat him.

"sh-shit ma, i'm gonna cum," chris groans, "you ready?"

you let out a whimper to let him know you're ready and just then his load shoots into your mouth, which you swallow entirely. with a pop, you come up from his cock and wipe the edge of your mouth with a small grin.

"get on all fours, now," chris demands, standing up so that he's directly behind you.

you oblige and strip naked, getting on your hands and knees on the bed in front of you — being that you were on the tour bus, it was hard for you to move around so you were practically up against chris.

his hands immediately went to grip your waist as your back arched, your head coming into contact with the bed as it's pushed down. chris grabs his still throbbing cock and aligns it with your entrance, pushing himself all the way inside you.

"f-fuck, chris!" you yell out, the stretch burning you.

he gives you no time to adjust, his hips already rocking towards you at an ungodly pace causing your head to be buried into the mattress.

"fuck, right there!" you moan out, his tip kissing that sweet spot in your cervix.

"this sweet pussy, all for me," chris groans out, his grip on your waist likely to make bruises later, "you're so fucking tight, shit!"

"mm, keep going baby," you manage to whine out, as his cock keeps deliciously hitting your cervix at the angle.

"fuck baby, you like when i fuck you like this?" chris says tauntingly, leaning down to your ear, "my beautiful trophy, all fucked out."

"b-baby, i'm so close," you whine out.

"m'close too ma, hold it," chris grunts out lowly, not slowing his pace once. "fuck, i'm..."

with a loud moan, chris shoots his loud out into you painting your walls with his seed, which at the same time your juices spurt out of you as well.

but oh, he wasn't done. "turn and face me now, ma."

"chris, i'm sensitive!" you whine out as you turn back facing the front of him.

he looks down at you with a taunting smile, clicking his tongue. "c'mon ma, i know you can give me another one. you know your safe word."

and he's aligning his cock with your entrance again, this time he throws your leg over his shoulder as he slowly enters you, causing tears to form at your eyes at the sensitivity.

"oh my gosh!" you cry out, as he slowly moves at a steady pace trying to be thoughtful to your sensitivity.

"fuck, c'mon baby," chris says as he begins thrusting in and out you.

his looks down to see his bulge in your stomach, pressing down on it as you let out loud moans as he begins pounding into you mercilessly.

"fuck chris!" you whine, your nails digging into his back.

"look at you ma, taking my cock and doing so good for me," chris praises, causing you to moan.

one of his arms takes yours from off his back as he interlocks your hands whilst leaning down to kiss you sloppily — you know you're hair dresser is gonna be so tired of you coming back to get your hair re-done, cause you're almost certain it's messed up.

his kiss swallows any moan that threatens to spill out your mouth as the sound of squelching could be heard from the both of you, nothing but pure euphoria taking over both of your bodies as you indulge in each other.

"i'm gonna cum, baby," you whine.

"fuck, me too ma," chris moans, his thrusts becoming sloppier.

with a loud pornographic moan of his name, your orgasm washes over you for the second time as your juices spill out — chris lets out a gutteral groan as he shoots his load into you for the second time. his thrusts slow as you both ride out your high, then he pulls out of you and falls beside you.

you turn to smile at him, his hair sticking to his forehead as he immediately cups your face and presses a soft kiss to your lips.

"i've missed you so much," chris rasps, and you hold his hand in your own as you look up at him.

"i've missed you too, baby," you coo, pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek.

lil 💌

look who finally wrote another smut ! i hope y'all liked this one. i'm gon try & get back into my lil writing groove, possibly write some shit other than smut too <3.

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets smut #smutty smut smut #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris x reader #sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #Spotify

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gi4hao · 6 days

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vernon x gn!reader — lighthearted fluff, teasing as a love language, vernon is a nerd

plot: vernon is in a flirty mood. that’s literally it.

“don’t you think it’s a weird saying?”

on your right, vernon hums interrogatively without taking his eyes off of the tv.

“the guy just told her ‘i love you to the moon and back’. i think it’s a weird thing to say.”

this time he turns his head towards you. partly out of interest for your last words, but mostly to grab the bucket of popcorn you’ve been hogging.

“you’re right, how dare he declare his love to his wife? such a weirdo…” he scoffs as he grabs a handful of popcorn, slightly frowning at the realization that there were a lot more last time he had the bucket on his lap.

his unserious reply calls for more drastic measures, so you grab the remote and pause the movie.

“i’m just saying, why the moon? why not the sun? it’s much farther.”

vernon takes a couple of seconds to ponder over your observation, face completely still except for his active chewing.

“good point. if it were me, i’d tell you i love you to GN-z11 and back,” he remarks, but immediately notices that something is not clicking in your brain. “it’s the farthest galaxy from earth. well, that we know of at least.”

“oh wow… you’re such a nerd,” you chuckle, “you’re telling me you just woke up one day wanting to know what’s the farthest point from our planet and looked it up?”

your puzzled expressions look almost similar in that moment, although provoked by two very different things. to vernon, none of his words are worth such a dumbfounded reaction.

“…yeah? is this what i get for trying to be romantic? bullying?” he replies with an air of fake offense. “nevermind, i guess i only love you to the supermarket and back then.”

the gasp you let out is so loud it almost makes him flinch and knock the bucket over. but that gasp was nothing compared to the way you suddenly slump down on him, fully taking him by surprise.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry! i love your nerdy flirting, i would die if i had to live without your fun little facts, i’m so serious!” you exclaim, hands on his cheeks to force him to look at you. “i love you to that galaxy with a weird name and back, i swear! now say it back please.”

it’s not that vernon doesn’t feel like continuing this fake argument just for fun, it’s that he physically cannot with your pleading eyes staring right into his.

“i’ll forgive you if you let me finish the popcorn…” he starts, pausing until you’ve nodded in agreement, “and yes, i love you to GN-z11 and back, of course i do.”

it takes all your physical and mental strength to not tell him how cute he looks with his cheeks slightly squished by your palms. so instead, you channel this affection into a loud kiss on his lips, which he extends by placing a gentle hand on the back of your head, applying more pressure on your mouth.

when your lips part, your eyes are opened a bit wider than usual, still surprised by the intensity of his kiss; which he notices with a slight smirk.

now laying on top of him, you prop yourself up on your elbows, a bit out of breath:

“they need to discover a farther galaxy. this one isn’t gonna be enough,” you blurt out, and watch his smirk morph into a genuine smile, bringing a light blush to his cheeks.

REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED <3

#love love love writing for him ngl #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #vernon x reader #vernon fluff #vernon imagines #hansol x reader

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elexaria · 3 months

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living with ghoap was nice. two big burly fellas to keep you company, to reach the top shelves in the kitchen for you, to absolutely plough you into the mattress when you couldnt itch your own scratch for once. they were good lads.

but there were countless times where they’d be away for work, so you knew you couldnt be fully dependent on them. they knew that too, so they weren’t exactly going to object to you having fun without them. so long as you were happy and safe, they were content.

but fuck, the men out there are absolutely horrible to deal with. sleazy, there’s just… no ability to have any kind of banter with these things that think only with their cocks.

until you meet kilgöre alexander.

he’s gigantic, his shoulders probably share the same width as mount everest’s base. easily, kilgöre is the tallest man you’ve ever been with. he dwarfs simon in size, which is very telling in itself.

it’s hard to pry away at who kilgöre is as a person. he’s austrian, likes keeping himself to himself. absolutely refuses to tell you what he does for a living, because it’s on a need to know basis. “sounds like something a terrorist would say.” you jokingly coo one night at dinner, smirking as he rolls his foggy blue eyes at your comment. “har har, very funny.” he mockingly says, the corners of his lips twitching ever so slightly.

he’s one of the best things that’s happened to you in a while. he doesn’t know about the particular living arrangement you share with simon and johnny— like he says, it’s on a need to know basis. plus, you haven’t boned either of them since you met this fella. ghoap know what’s up, but they’re not bothered by it. they’re just glad to see you doing well for yourself. “ye have a glow about ye, love.” johnny coos in your ear one day, smirking as he watches you fluster and flounder around the kitchen, trying to make excuses. “it’s the vitamins i’m taking” this and “i’ve quit dairy” that. he knows the truth, simon know its too.

but there’s one thing that makes the attachment to this man absolutely unbearable.

he disappears from time to time.

some days it’s only a couple of days, maybe a couple of weeks at a push. absolutely no contact.

he swears it’s to do with his line of work, that one day he’ll be able to tell you everything. but for now, he asks just for one thing.

“just… wait for me.”

it’s been almost a month with no contact from kilgöre, and it feels like every morning with no text, no nothing, you have a growing pit inside of you that can’t stop gnawing at you, eating you up whole. what the fuck? what could he possibly do for a career that makes it so he goes days without checking his phone? it makes you feel sick to your stomach. what if he’s in a gang or something?

besides, how the fuck can you keep on waiting for someone who you don’t even know is even alive? for all you know, this behemoth of a man has been hog tied and dumped at the bottom of a lake with cinder blocks strapped to his feet. how are you supposed to wait for someone who shows no signs of leaving or coming back?

“that light in yer eyes has dulled.” johnny remarks one evening, a sad smile on his lips. your eyebrows knit together, feigning confusion. “huh? oh, yeah. uh… it’s the gluten intolerance i reckon.” you murmur to yourself, flashing a weak smile to consolidate his inquisitive gaze. “i’m fine, though.”

simon huffs as he leers next to you, skilfully flaying pieces of fish with a pensive look. both you and johnny glance at him, which only makes him grunt in response. you furrow your eyebrows at him, urging him to elaborate on what the pressing issue is.

“we reckon shit’s hit the fan with that new bloke of yours.” simon bluntly replies as he wipes off the chopping board with a damp cloth, hands gently scooping up guts, scales and delicate fish bones to dispose of. you scoff, eyes never leaving the cuts of fish meat that rest on a plate, waiting to be delicately battered and fried up.

“whatev—“

“and i know you, you’ll try and refute the truth that i know what’s going on. that we know what’s going on. so, none of this nonsense, alright? what’s up?”

johnny and simon silently watch you, their simultaneous waiting for any reaction from you making your skin crawl. at first, you scowl and huff. shifting your weight from foot to foot as you become defensive. simon cuts you off again, “none of that bollocks. tell the truth.”

you give in. on bated breath, you explain the whole situation. how kilgöre is the kind of man you had never expected to fall for, how he had managed to steal your attention even while being so elusive and secretive. how you desperately want him to come back to you, like he said he would.

johnny frowns, and simon nods in your direction, wiping his blood stained hands with the damp cloth. “fishy hands.” he murmurs, wiggling his fingers to prove he can’t comfort you with a hug. johnny nods, swiftly making his way around the kitchen island to come give you a warm hug. it’s a solid hug, one you’d never object to having. johnny’s large hands rub circles to your back, his bearded chin resting against your shoulder as he sways gently.

simon stands behind johnny, holding eye contact with you as he continued to carefully clean his hands. he raises his eyebrows in thought, before glancing down at his fingernails as he begins to meticulously clean underneath them to rid his skin of all things fish.

“this… kilgöre bloke. i reckon if he’s the one, he’s worth waitin’ for. but don’t think for a second he should get away with leavin’ you this long without so much as a text, yeah? rip ‘im a new one when he comes back.” he advises, glancing back up at you with a slight smirk when he hears you chuckle, your laugh strained with emotion.

he steps closer, carefully tilting your chin up so you can meet his gaze better. he gently wipes a stray tear from your cheek. “if he’s the man you think he is, he’ll explain everything if you ask him to. and if he does? great. if he doesn’t?” you wince at the idea, frowning.

he sighs, pressing a gentle kiss to your brow.

“then he’s a bloody eejit, as our johnny boy would say.”

#elexaria writes #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #poly!ghoap #poly!ghoap x reader #könig #könig x reader

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foreingersgod · 2 days

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hiii, could u write smth for emily please? something with sleepy early morning cuddles on her day off and overall being physically clingy <3

Touch . EE

pairing: emily engstler x reader

emily had gotten home the night before absolutely exhausted and worn out. she was stressed and overwhelmed, this week had felt longer than it actually was. her body ached, her head hurt, and all she wanted was you.

she remembers fumbling with the key to unlock your front door, clambering through the threshold, eager to be home. her shoes and jacket were off in seconds and her wallet and keys were tossed carelessly onto the marble counter of your kitchen. it felt like she hadn’t been home in years, dragging herself up the stairs to your shared room.

excitement struck her body as she finally reached the bedroom, she couldn’t wait to wrap her arms around you and fall asleep. she didn’t have anything planned at all for tomorrow, completely prepared to force you to stay in bed with her all day. a day of rotting in bed with your body pressed up against hers sounded like heaven. when she opened the door, noticing your sleeping figure, she stripped of the rest of her clothes and crawled into bed beside you. she said nothing, pulling you into her and resting her head in the crook of your neck. she let out a long and weary sigh as sleep over took her.

I've been lonely since I woke up

I want a touch, no, it's never enough

a merciful stream of light flooded through the cracked window, illuminating the entire room. the light pried at emily’s eyes causing her to rise from her deep slumber. she yawned, stretching her long limbs and groaning in relief. she hadn’t slept this good in a while. with eyes still laced with sleep, practically glued shut, her arm extended to search for you. her calloused fingers met with the silky skin of your shoulder. she cracked an eye open, the early morning light still too much to bare as she looked over to your side of the bed.

you were laying there on your side, turned away from emily. both of your legs were thrown in opposite directions, something that drove her crazy but she still loved you despite your habit to hog the bed. your body rose and fell as you took gentle breathes, snoring softly as you carried on dreaming.

she was still so so tired, wanting to let her eyes close again and sink back into her pillow. but the urgency she had for you was much greater. most of the time, she’d wake up before you just like this. you were quite the night owl as opposed to emily’s early bird nature. but with both of you having the entire saturday to yourselves, she was having a hard time letting you sleep while she sat awake.

she scooted closer to you, pushing the sheets off of your torso so she could get a better look at you. even though you were facing away from her, she couldn’t help but sit and admire you. she brought one hand up to your back, allowing her fingers to draw small shapes on your exposed skin. everything about you had her entranced, from the delicate texture of your skin to the way your hair fell perfectly around your face.

the mornings, she realized, were so lonely without you.

I heard her voice then had a crush

Made me remember all the reasons why

“emily?”

your voice sounded into the room, sleep curling itself around the essence of your words. she had let herself fall into a shallow form of sleep as she continued to run her hands across your body, only to be abruptly pulled from it when she felt you shift.

her heart melted when she heard you for the first time, she had longed for you presence for what was nearing an hour. your groggy, yet still sweet morning voice was music to her ears. she felt herself smile as you called out her name.

“yea, baby?” she mumbled into the pillow.

“what time is it?” you had asked, already sensing how early it was. emily felt a small wave of guilt, realizing that it was hours earlier than what you normal would have awaken at. but that was quickly diminished when you finally turned to face her.

stretching in the process, you rolled over, resisting the urge to throw the sheets back over your body and doze off once more. emily removed her face from the pillow to soak in the image of you. you smiled the moment you laid eyes on her, throwing a leg over her waist and placing your feeble hands on her chest. her large hands instinctively came to rest on your thigh, thumb making mindless circles on your skin.

“about 7” she leaned in to place a kiss to your forehead “sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up this early”

I wanna give you all I've got

Until I'm not even a thought

“s’ok” you let your eyes flutter for a moment, feeling her lips linger on you “i don’t mind. would rather be awake with you anyways”

a sloppy smile danced its way onto emily’s face. her cheeks turned slightly pink, always so sheepish when you flattered her. she was so whipped for you, mesmerized by everything you did. even if it was just wanting her company as you wallowed in the sheets.

“do you know how much i love you?” she inquired.

a satisfied sigh escaped your lips as you tucked your head into her chest. you felt her chin rest on your head as you nuzzled your nose against her neck. you couldn’t help but chuckle, you don’t think anyone could possibly know the amount of love you held for your girlfriend.

“course i do, em” you hummed, lavishing in her warm embrace. you let your hands drag from their place on her chest and up over her shoulders “do you know how much i love you?”

“mhm,” you could sense her drifting off again “i think we should stay like this…all day”

she abandoned your thigh, now trailing her hands under your shirt. your skin formed small goosebumps when you felt her cold fingers run along the underside of your breast. you knew her touch wasn’t from a place of lust, but from a place of passion and desire.

“i like the sound of that”

You've been hangin' out in my head

I've been imaginin' you in my bed

the room was filled with soft snores and gratified breathing. occasional small talk was made, but neither of you needed to speak, content with the silent company. the busyness of the world blared outside, persuading you to leave the house, but nothing could pull you from this moment.

she couldn’t believe that this was her reality. that she got to lay here with you like this, the most beautiful person to walk the earth, someone so kind and gentle. you were her soulmate, she was convinced. it was something so bizarre to love you. she had a hard time imagining that you were here beside her; doting on her, whispering how much you loved her.

But my imagination can only go so far

although, she didn’t need to imagine. she had the real thing right here.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

taglist:

@idiotsnake @girlokwhatever @uraesthete @katemartinsimp @rimunagenius @patscorner @julienbakerloverr @sunfairy-world @anakinsmakingmeweak @barbacoas-stuff @0alessia0 @kc88888888 @kinfluenza @lacyspeaks @pbueckerslover

i don’t know why it isn’t tagging some of guys so i’m trying to figure out how to fix that :’)

#wnba imagine #wnba x reader #wnba #emily engstler x reader #emily engstler #i love emily engstler #washington mystics #women’s basketball #wlw #wlw imagine #lesbian #lesbian imagine #foreingersgod

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finalgirllx · 3 months

Text

bartender mattheo riddle

i'm a slut for AUs and this one quickly shot up to being one of my favorites for mattheo.

for @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge, the prompt i went off of was 'firewhiskey/butterbeer'

As you tread the once-familiar cobblestone streets of Hogsmeade, the rhythmic click of your shoes provides a temporary distraction from the storm swelling inside your thoughts. For such a lively village, the action around you feels distant, too far in the past to offer any respite similar to the steady cadence beneath your feet.

To outside viewers, you appear as any young person donning a modest party dress and looking for a casual spot to unwind for the evening. They wouldn't know this was your first visit to Hogsmeade in over five years since you finished your schooling at Hogwarts. You had left the highlands, your small hamlet, for bigger, better things—or so you had thought.

Reality didn't guarantee such promises you had dreamed of in those few years. Currently barely making ends meet and running on a general sense of uncertainty, you decided it was as good a time as any to revisit your hometown and the magical communities surrounding it, including this cheerful wizarding town you had frequented throughout your adolescence.

You first tried your luck with the Three Broomsticks, but the bustling atmosphere proved too overwhelming for the discreet return you aimed for. With the decision between the rundown Hog's Head inn and a newer, more upscale establishment called 'Celestial Sips,' you opted to see what this new 'fancy-schmancy' spot was all about.

You stealthily step through the polished entry doors to scan the venue, which is dimly lit beside faint golden lights. It is adorned with oddly shaped furniture more suited for artistic expression rather than usability. It appears far more modernized than the traditional charm most common with Hogsmeade’s businesses, young wizarding folk undoubtedly curated it with heavy inspiration coming from muggle cocktail lounges.

The existence of the bar itself in a place such as Hogsmeade wasn't the most earth-shattering part of this night out. It was when your eyes met with the lead bartender, and a flood of memories filled your senses as you realized it was none other than Mattheo Riddle.

His dark curls were unruly as ever but fell in such a way that made him irresistible. His piercing dark gaze caught yours, sparking with recognition. The scar across the bridge of his nose was just as prominent as it was six years ago, as vivid as the day you had dragged him to the hospital wing to get his split nose mended after a particularly grueling fistfight.

That memory also reminds you just how close you and him once were. While you had never officially dated, you did everything a couple would and then some. You shared countless fun late nights, as well as having been there for each other during the more trying ones. And although sexual intimacy didn't come until after graduation, the passion of those post-school days also remains etched in your memory. It was your decision to pursue "bigger things" that had cut that short, leaving you with a lingering sense of what might have been.

Despite the distance between you as you reeled from the shock of encountering him here, you couldn't help but notice the changes in Mattheo over the past five years. Mattheo exuded a confidence far from the troubled boy you once knew at school. He had grown taller, broader, and even more handsome than before. He was also now littered with tattoos that only added to his allure, tempting you to bridge the distance separating you further.

Your knee-jerk reaction would have been to flee the scene, but since you had already met eyes and he was actively beckoning you forward to the bar as you battled with your thoughts, you had no choice but to participate in the unexpected reunion.

You sat at a bar stool, and Mattheo quickly welcomed you with a warm but distinctively husky tone. It was clear that Mattheo was struggling to mask his excitement over seeing you as he tried to maintain some professionalism while behind the bar.

"The greatest stroke of luck I've encountered since taking the job at this fancy joint," Mattheo started with genuine delight, "I can't believe it's you. You look fantastic," his quick work of sweet-talking you did the trick as your cheeks flushed, though still totally sober. Mattheo was also swift in amending that, sliding a vodka cranberry before you with a nod, "On the house. Let me know if you want something more 'refined' for the setting; I just went with an old favorite."

You let out a soft giggle, drawing the straw to your lips to sip the drink. The sweetness of the juice masks the burn, perfectly balanced to not overwhelm from either end.

With Mattheo's excellent job of putting you at ease, you finally replied. "Indeed, you always teased me for not being a whiskey drinker. Old habits die hard," you quipped, taking another sip before continuing. "But, look at you! A bartender? Mattheo, I must say, I'm thrilled to see you here and not, well.." your words lingered away at the implication, realizing it might not sound as encouraging as intended. There were all sorts of rumors of him headed to a life of dark wizardry, so seeing him here was a relief. But he didn't have to hear about any of that, not now. Quickly shifting your approach, you perked up to suggest, "And at this luxurious place? While I appreciate the old favorite, I would love to see what magic you could conjure up in a cocktail glass."

Mattheo laughed and shook his head momentarily before piping up again. "Seems your confidence has skyrocketed. I'm glad to see that, princess," he teased with a cheeky smirk, earning an eye roll from you that only amused him further. You again feel a little heated at the nickname, opting not to question it. You could see that the mischievous glint in his eyes was alive and well as he began meticulously combining various expensive-looking drinks and mixers just for you. Simultaneously, Mattheo tended to other existing patrons, expertly traversing the sprawling bar to ensure everyone's needs were met and drinks stayed filled.

Observing how Mattheo carried himself with such assuredness only heightened your attraction. Each movement he made to speak with patrons and craft drinks allowed you to appreciate his muscled physique. You were no better than a groupie ogling his toned, tattooed arms, his hands still bearing faint scars from his past. The sight of his veins flexing with every motion ignited a fire in your stomach that you hoped wouldn't consume you entirely.

His broad shoulders and slim waist were accentuated by his dark button-up dress shirt. That caught your attention, as did when your gaze moved downward and drifted over his perfectly sculpted behind. You were abruptly snapped from your desirous stupor when the object of your admiration set a much fancier cocktail before you.

"Like what you see?" Mattheo asked with a smug, teasing tone, causing you to want to disappear into the ground beneath your stool. You must have been less-than-subtle about checking him out, but he didn't seem to mind as he continued without further ribbing. "Try that. It's the Mattheo special," he said, watching you intently to see how you reacted to the first sip.

You smirked at the oh-so-creative name and then inspected the drink itself. It was rather extravagant, a lavender purple hue with swirls of gold shimmering with every swish of the glass.

Without hesitation, you lifted the glass and took a small sip. A delightful combination of blueberry and lemon overtook your tastebuds, almost completely shielding the strength of the alcohol in the drink. Hell, you were prepared to question if it was mixed at all had you not watched him pour at least a shot's worth of vodka into it.

You gave him a smile of approval, to which Mattheo grinned widely, clearly pleased to see you liked it. With the other patrons momentarily tended to, Mattheo rested his elbows on the counter, surprising you with his sudden proximity as he leaned forward, suggesting he had something enticing to say.

"I hope this isn't too forward, but I'd really like to catch up," Mattheo spoke in a hushed tone. It sounded innocent enough, but the question, paired with his gaze lingering on your figure, told you he meant anything but. "Would you consider sticking around till close?"

Yes, yes, yes! Your internal monologue screamed. On the outside, you locked eyes with him and smirked, your expression conveying you understood his intentions well. "I don't have anywhere else I want to go; I can stick around."

-----------------------

You were cautious with your drinking to avoid getting too intoxicated for your later plans with Mattheo. As the closing time for Celestial Sips approached, you remained near the counter, bantering with other patrons. Mattheo delegated cleaning duties to other employees while he called for final rounds and closed tabs. Each time your eyes met, a shared twinge of excitement passed between you.

After another hour or so, Mattheo finally shut down the lit 'open' sign, leaving you two together alone. While this is what you wanted, your nerves welled up upon the realization that it was just the two of you here. A hint of insecurity came over you. He had grown to be such an attractive, confident man, and you could only hope he found you equally appealing. That line of thought was interrupted when Mattheo began approaching you. His expression, filled with hunger, was directed at you. His captivating eyes combined with the deep-brown locks drooping over his forehead implored you to swoon from where you sat.

"Merlin, princess, you have no idea how much I've missed you," Mattheo murmured, his voice brimming with seduction as he closed the distance, his hands finding their place on the curve of your waist. “Please let me know if you want me to slow down at any time." His words echoed in your ears, bringing you comfort even though you felt wholly prepared to surrender to all of his desires.

Mattheo advanced until your back pressed against the front of the counter. His lips found the crook of your neck, peppering your skin with a trail of wet kisses in their wake. A moan escaped your lips as his actions ignited your longing for more; everything you had wished his hands on you would feel like coming true. However, the heat was cut short far too soon when Mattheo suddenly took a pause from all of the heavy petting.

"You seem tense," Mattheo remarked with a hint of concern. You promptly reassured him with affectionate pecks to his cheek before admitting, "I just hope I'm good for you." His eyes briefly darkened as if displeased by your hesitancy. Suddenly, both of his hands moved to cup your cheeks, and he gazed deeply into your eyes.

"You are the most beautiful person I've ever laid eyes on. I meant every word when I said I fantasized about a moment like this with you for years," he confessed. The sincerity in his voice compelled you to trust him, leaving you with no doubt about whether he wanted this.

Seeing you take his words to heart, Mattheo's expression then lit up, clearly having a lightbulb moment. "If you're ready, this place is chock full of drinks to help us both loosen up a bit," As soon as he mentioned it, you felt almost silly having overlooked the idea, realizing that some liquid confidence was the answer to easing your nerves. You nodded, and Mattheo took his hand in yours and gently guided you behind the bar counter.

"Do you trust me?" He asked, and you instantly replied, "I do."

In one swift motion, one hand made its way to the back of your head and the other to the small of your back so he could pull you into a passionate kiss. Your tongues found each other in a dance, his dominant side quickly winning over as his tongue protruded into your mouth. When you briefly pulled away to catch your breath, your cheeky side showed itself when you gently tugged on his bottom lip with your teeth. He moaned slightly, to your satisfaction, and you took advantage of the moment to run your hand over his chest, feeling the muscles underneath that dress shirt. You finally had Mattheo Riddle all to yourself, and you wanted all of him.

Without warning, he grabbed you by the hips, pulled you close, and spun you around to bend you over the counter. One hand curled around your hair to create a makeshift ponytail, the other wasting no time grabbing a bottle of fire whiskey within arm's reach and placing it beside you.

"I'm sorry, doll. I know you love vodka, but whiskey is perfect for tonight."

You looked up at him with doe-like pleading eyes as he gripped your hair, nodding as much as you could though restricted by his hold. He grinned wickedly over your enthusiastic consent before looming over you with a dominating presence. "Open up that mouth, princess."

Your lips slightly parted as Mattheo brought the open bottle of whiskey to your mouth. He poured a shot's worth down your throat, the intense heat burning on your tongue without anything to chase it down. Yet, as Mattheo force-fed you the drink and whispered praises in your ear about how you 'take it so well,' the burn of the whiskey transformed into a divine sensation, exhilarating in the best way. The bar counter was the only thing stopping you from melting to the floor as you became weak in the knees, your aroused state especially susceptible to his praise.

Mattheo lifted the bottle away from you to take a swig, holding you to the counter with a heavy palm against your back. He sighed, satisfied by the burn.

After a moment, he turned his attention back on you and pulled your hair to the side, hastily marking your neck with suctioned kisses and nibbles. At the same time, Mattheo's fingers ghosted down your back, caressing your ass and jolting you with a swift spank, finally reaching underneath your dress to stroke your cunt through your slick panties.

"Merlin, princess, after seeing the way your lips wrapped around that bottle, I wanted to fuck that pretty mouth so bad. But feeling how goddamn wet you are for me, I'm not sure either of us can wait for my cock to be inside your perfect, tight pussy."

His long fingers moved away from your aching core, reaching up and now brushing against your lips. "Will you wet my fingers a little more for me?" he asked in a voice too enticing for such an indecent request. You immediately allowed him to intrude your mouth, his fingers already covered in your taste though he had just barely begun to touch you. "We have to prepare that pussy don't we?" he groaned into your ear. You were distracted as his hardened cock ground into your ass between the fabric of your dress and his trousers.

You could tell he was beginning to lose himself as he seemed enamored by the way your mouth slipped over his fingers, swirling your tongue around them in a show of desperation to please.

Once content with your wetting of his fingers, he pulled them from your mouth and went back to exploring your panties, pushing them aside to tease your folds before slipping the first of his fingers in. It was seamless, not surprising for you, having lusted over him the entire night.

"Fuck, you're still so tight, doll. I have to stretch you out, so this feels as good for you as it will for me."

After a few moments, he introduced a second finger to your soaked cunt. He didn't move at first but gradually began pumping them inside. He could have cum on the spot witnessing your frenetic response to just two fingers.

"Careful, princess. If you want to come on my fingers, you need to beg for it." The words sent a shudder of desperation through your entire body, legs threatening to give out from underneath you as the artful use of his fingers in tandem with his dirty talk brought you toward your first orgasm, unable to resist it even if you tried. Mattheo kept his movements steady as your eyes rolled back and your walls clenched around him, a deep voice leaving the back of his throat to growl, "that's it, ride my fingers, you little slut," His tone this time was demanding, you knew he was displeased by your disobedience. His untamed, hungry expression evolved into something more conniving as he contemplated how to punish you for cumming without permission.

"You like that, huh? A slut who couldn't wait to beg? I should put my cock inside you and make you cum until you can't stand it anymore, then, hm? Do you want that? Cry for it, princess, or you're not getting it."

You quickly fulfill this command with desperate pleas, "Please, Mattheo, please, fill me with your cock."

"Fucking hell, princess--if I wasn't about to bust, I'd have you begging more. Desperation sounds fucking delicious rolling off your tongue," Mattheo growled against your ear as one of his hands haphazardly moved back to his trousers, hastily unbuttoning them to allow his needy length to spring free and press against you. The relief of finally freeing himself caused a deep groan to slip past his lips which only seemed to increase his urgency as his hands quickly found their place on your body again, yanking your dress up over your ass and delivering a forceful slap to your exposed flesh. You yelped and squirmed reflexively from the sting, much to his delight. "That's my fucking ass, don't forget it," he groaned with a certain smugness at the sight of his handprint forming on your skin.

"Please, Matty, please fuck me," you pleaded with a nearly pathetic level of desire. With that, Mattheo decided not to waste another second before indulging you. He took hold of your hips, guiding his cock to your slick folds, and slowly started to ease himself inside of you.

You gasped at the intrusion, reveling in the stretch, but Mattheo cooed praises to relax you enough so there was little discomfort as you adjusted to his size. "Fuck, you fit around me so well. perfect pussy, perfect girl." he groaned as he could feel your wet warmth surround him. “is this okay?"

"Yes, please keep going."

Mattheo used the makeshift ponytail of your hair to lift your head and press his full weight against you onto the counter. His hips began to move, thrusting slowly to start until he was absolutely sure you could take him. With you now sandwiched between his body and the cold surface, he worked up to fucking you at a relentless pace, the base of his cock clashing against your ass as he bottomed out inside of your cunt. The hand steadying you by the hip reached up to wrap around your throat, squeezing at the sides enough for you to feel his strength but not enough to cause pain. It seemed almost to be a reminder for himself not to completely lose to the animalistic urges as he continued to increase the intensity. Your pelvis clanging against the bar didn't matter; you always like it rough, and he knew it.

"Princess, oh gods, I don't know if I'll last." He moaned into your ear paired with short, hot breaths. "You feel so fucking good; I wanted this for so..fucking...long." he sang his praises between each punctuated thrust that hit just the right spot inside of you again and again. The repeated stimulation triggers your second orgasm, your walls clenching around his cock as a choked moan barely escapes your lips- the sound being caught by his firm hold on your neck.

"We're fucking meant for each other, babe," Mattheo grunted as you rode through your wave of pleasure. All you could do in your cockdrunk state was mewl in response, which fueled his ego. "Perfect dumb slut for me, you love taking my cock, don't you? Tell me how much you love my cock," his dirty talk turned more degrading as your most depraved desires inched closer to showing themselves on the surface.

"Love your cock Matty.. mhm so good..."

"Good slut. Now, say you're mine," he commanded, completely frenzied with his pacing.

"I'm yours." you babbled with complete devotion. Mattheo groaned as you so willingly gave into his possessiveness, the very idea of owning every part of you being the tipping point to let his release out inside of you. His rutting became erratic and slowed as he rode through his orgasm, the last few pumps matching your third orgasm in stride.

He then laid limp on top of you, letting out heaving exhales to regain his composure. For the moment, he left his cock to twitch inside of you, relishing in the warm feeling. Once convinced he could get up properly, he pulled out, leaving your pussy dripping with his cum as his entire body lurched over you.

"That was perfect, you were perfect. Best stroke of luck in ages," he mused with a throaty chuckle, recalling his first words when you locked eyes at the beginning of the night. "Can you walk?" he asked, mostly teasingly because the shaking of your legs answered that question without a doubt.

"No," you spoke softly, the giggles you had at the beginning of the night starting to return even if your mind wasn't still fully there from the back-to-back stimulation.

With this, Mattheo decided to hold you for a while longer. You had a lot of catching up to do and piecing together both of your stories to find out how, after so many years, you still ended up right here. But for now, the shared presence was enough.

------------------ huge thankies to @slytherinslut0 for coaching me through this. i was very spooked to share. love y'all <3

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle au #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #slytherin #slytherin boys #hogmarch challenge

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actually-safer-to-kiss · 10 months

Text

The Morning After

Summary: Reader and Spencer are waking up after a big fight the night before.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Angst, Comfort

Content warnings: Relationship troubles

Word count: 1k

You woke up not convinced you had slept. Your eyelids sticking together and sore from the stark morning light must indicate otherwise, right? It stings no matter how often you blink. It’s a similar sting to chlorine and your body clears it out. But no matter how many times you blink, the pain remains.

Normally, Spencer’s hogging the bed, his arms pressed against your back like he was in a casket but sideways while you grip the edge and hope you don’t meet the floor with your nose. Stretching your arm out to feel the other side feels unnatural. No hand ready to grab you and smack your knuckles with a kiss. No grinding teeth that you’ve told him is a sign of stress and he should get checked out.

This all felt worse. Even though Spencer was just in the living room, he still felt too far away. But what’s the right way to deal with that? How does one bounce back from such a brutal night?

Well, you don’t bounce back. You take it slow. You pick yourself up from the pillows, your body aching like a hangover. Sitting upright did not help your headache; the pain between your eyes is strong, recovering from scrunching so violently in the midst of sobbing and yelling. You’re both lucky the neighbors didn’t call the cops.

You sway around the bed, left to right like a stiff pendulum. In the doorway, you see your boyfriend. His hair is a moppy mess. He's got a fresh dark roast in his hands, and it takes all his concentration to bring it to his lips. It’s almost precious if you didn’t remember you’re partially responsible for putting him in that state. You watch him sip slowly, the heat hits his skin and he remains unfazed. He pulls it away.

“Morning.” You croak out. You push yourself out of the doorway as you wrap yourself tight in your robe.

His face turns to you as he considers another sip. “Morning.” He puts his cup on the end table. “There’s… uh there’s plenty more. If you want any.”

You nod, crossing your arms close to your chest. Even though you don’t waste time grabbing the hot pot and plenty of creamer, your mind concentrates on the feeling of eyes pressing into your back. The sound of the leather shifting with his weight, maybe he was watching to make sure you weren’t walking out (like you may or may not have threatened to do last night). When you turn around though, he does too, he knows you saw it.

Because you know what to do.

You walk to the couch, taking the side opposite as you take two gulps of your beverage, ignoring the semi-sweet liquid’s heat. You settle in with your cup close by while Spencer occupies himself with his own hands like he’s been called to the principal’s office.

“Do you… want to talk about it?”

A third sip. “Yeah, probably best.” You eventually put your cup down after another eager drink. Your magazines were arranged on the table in front of you, labeled by issue. And not just that, but the books that were once sprawled on the floor were put back neatly on the shelves, in their intended alphabetical order. You pause at the sight. “You… wait, you cleaned up last night?”

Spencer coughed to pretend he wasn't so tired, saying "Yeah. I couldn’t sleep, so I figured, you know, why not?” He equipped the rhetorical question with a shrug.

You rub your face. It all hurts. “I didn’t mean to back into the shelf. I hope you know that.”

“I know.”

“Good, okay.” The silence is thick. Expected, but still daunting. The chest pain that comes with holding your breath so sternly is not something you thought of before. And you wish it would go away. So you start it. “Do you want to go first, or would —”

“I’m sorry.” Spencer interrupts.

“Huh?”

“I’m really sorry. What I said, it was out of line.”

You sigh. The relief of it all (or part of it, the rest will come in time) pours out with one exhale. Your lungs still feel the ache, but again, in due time. “Me too. I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have retaliated the way I did.”

Spencer’s lips pull into a smile as his head falls back. “Okay. Good.” He swallowed. “Good.”

You don’t waste time taking up space between you. Your knees touch as you reach out to brush his cheekbones with your knuckles. You move further up and rub the redness around his eyes. They match yours. So you know the area is sensitive. Spencer, however, looks up at the ceiling as you touch it. Soon though, he takes your hand and presses a kiss to the skin. “Not as sloppy as I usually am."

“It’s okay.” Your grip tightens in his. “I think we both need to rehydrate.”

“And sleep more,” Spencer said.

“That sounds nice.” You slip out of Spencer’s hold and comb his hair back with your fingers, clearing them from his face. “Want to go back to bed?”

Spencer’s face scrunches and readjusts in his seat, rubbing his shoulder blade against the couch’s back. “I don’t think I can. It’s not easy to turn comfortably here.”

“You don't have to sleep on the couch.”

Spencer looked back at you. “Really? You sure?”

“You deserve a decent sleep in your own bed.”

Before Spencer has a chance to protest, you’ve picked yourself up from the couch and started pulling him up by the wrists. Despite his weary state, he followed you and stood up himself. You tugged his arm to the bedroom, to the sweet relief of a mattress, pillows, and potential cuddles. Spencer however tugs back, and he brings you into a soft hug. His head on your shoulder, his arms linking together to cage you into the warmth of his body. You gladly (and sleepily) follow by putting your arms around his neck. And you stay there. For a while.

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reiding-writing · 3 months

Note

omg, part two for roommates? It was so good

ROOMMATES [PART TWO]

/ˈɹu(m)ˌmeɪt/ /part one/

when you and spencer share a room together on a case, you find yourself a little out of character at the revelation you'll have to share a bed with him.

WARNINGS: cold but not antagonistic reader

spencer reid x cold!reader || fluff?? || 1.4k || series masterlist!!

a/n: is this too much cold!reader back to back? maybe, but this is my blog so i make the rules love yall

main masterlist!!

You woke up cold, your fingers unwelcome against the skin of your cheeks as they spread the stark chilliness that your extremities are feeling over your eyelids.

Whilst not entirely surprising, being so cold in a hotel room that was meant to be built for negative temperatures felt a little too unlikely to be true with no extraneous variables.

You found yours almost immediately, you were only half-covered in the bedsheets, the rest balled up around Spencer as he laid with his back to you.

You glanced around in the dim light, trying to locate your lost part of the blanket. But it was tightly wound around Spencer, making it clear that reclaiming your portion without waking him would be an impossible task.

You sighed softly, trying to think of a solution that wouldn’t involve waking him up, but the more you thought about it, the less feasible it seemed.

Frustrated, you tried to tug at the blanket gently, hoping against the odds that you could retrieve some of it without disturbing him. To no surprise whatsoever, Spencer stirred, turning to face you with sleepy eyes.

“Mmm… what time is it?” he mumbled, his voice heavy with sleep.

“Early, go back to sleep,” you whispered, trying to keep your voice steady under the softness of his gaze. “And stop hogging the sheets.”

Spencer quickly let go of the blanket, allowing you to take hold of it. “Sorry,” he murmured before turning back around and falling back asleep almost immediately.

You stared at him for a moment, surprised by how easily he‘d managed to fall back to sleep. But then again, it was Spencer. He was a different breed of person.

Wrapping the blanket around yourself, you laid back down and tried to get some more sleep. But as you watched Spencer sleeping peacefully with his back to you, you couldn’t help but feel a strange warmth spreading in your chest.

Despite the cold and the uncomfortable lump in the mattress, you found yourself on the verge of smiling against the sheets pulled up to your nose.

But you quickly banish the thought, reminding yourself that this was just a one-time thing.

A necessity due to circumstances. Nothing more.

You close your eyes, letting sleep take over once again.

The comfort of sleep eludes you, however, your mind plagued by the unconscious Spencer that lay not too far from you. You don’t know why it was now that you were having such an issue with falling asleep in his presence. You'd managed to bury the thought earlier, why could you do it now?

The silence of the room seemed to only amplify everything rampaging through your mind, and you turn to your other side, your back to Spencer as you try to clear your mind.

The sound of his soft breathing lulls you, a comforting rhythm in the otherwise silent room, and you feel yourself starting to drift off, the day's exhaustion catching up to you.

However, just as you're about to succumb to sleep, you feel a shift in the bed.

Spencer's moving.

His movements are slow, sluggish with sleep, and before you can process it, you feel his arm drape over your side, his body pressing against your back.

The surprise of his touch jolts you awake and you freeze completely, unsure of what to do. His breath fans against the back of your neck, a warm contrast to the cool air of the room.

You ponder your options. Should you move and risk waking him? Should you stay put and pretend to be asleep? If he woke up like this you know that he’d spiral into a pit of embarrassment and you’re not sure that you want to deal with that.

It also wasn’t the worst position, but that’s something that your mind would even let you consider.

You opt for the latter of the two options, deciding not to disrupt his sleep.

Your heart pounds in your chest, the rhythm deafening in your ears as you will yourself to just fall asleep and relieve yourself of the torture you’re enduring. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts and after what feels like an eternity, your body relaxes and you slowly drift back to sleep, Spencer's arm a comforting weight around you.

When you wake up the next morning, the events of the night feel like a distant dream. Spencer is already awake, sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to you as he speeds through the pages of a novel in his lap.

The memory of his arm around you sends a warm flush through your body, although the memory is so distant you can’t even really be sure it was real. You were half asleep after all.

The fact that Spencer seemed so relaxed also supports your theory that it might’ve been a sleep-induced hallucination. There was no way he’d be so casual if he’d known he’d done that.

But it felt too real to have not have happened.

As you rise from the bed, you make a silent vow to yourself. This was a one-time thing. It wouldn't happen again. You wouldn't let it.

But as you catch Spencer's eye and he gives you a sleepy smile, you can't help but wonder if that's a promise you can actually keep.

“Good morning, how did you sleep?” He closes the book with a small ‘thud’ sound, smiling half-awkwardly in your direction.

It takes you a second to process that he’s speaking to you, and he takes your silence as a sign that you’re still mad at him for taking the sheets.

“I’m sorry for what happened last night,”

Your eyes snap to his at his apology. So he did remember clinging to you like a koala then.

“I move a lot in my sleep, so I must’ve accidentally pulled all of the sheets in my direction,”

Nevermind.

“It’s fine Reid.” The grogginess still lacing your tone doesn’t do any help in making you sound genuinely okay with what had happened, nor does the narrowing of your eyes under the morning light that makes you look like you’re intentionally staring daggers into his forehead.

“Okay- Sorry-” He hated how intimidated he was by you sometimes, especially considering he knew you weren’t trying to be intimidating in the moment.

You were just half-asleep and sensitive to the bright lights, and yet you still managed to make him feel like one wrong word would be like hand-writing his death certificate.

God only knows what he would be thinking if he knew he’d spent half the night with his chest to your back.

“Stop apologising, I said it was fine,” You rub your eyes with your fingers, the way you pinch your nose bridge again serving to make you look way more angry than you actually were and sending Spencer down another internal-panic at the idea of you secretly being annoyed with him.

“Right, sor-” He stops himself halfway through his sentence, pressing his lips into a tight line with a short nod. “Uhm, Hotch said to meet down in the lobby in half an hour,”

You exhale heavily as you drag your palm down your face, humming absently as Spencer relay’s Hotch’s order to you.

You get out of the bed with a stretch and a yawn, and Spencer thinks it might be the most ‘human’ he’s ever seen you be — probably because he couldn’t see your expression with your back turned to him.

“I’m going to change,” You announce your departure to the shared bathroom as you grab your clothes for the day from your bag, giving him ample opportunity to stop you if he wanted to use the bathroom for something before you did. You knew he wouldn’t either way.

“Alright,” He gives you a slightly nervous nod as you shut the door behind you, messing with the leather spine of the book in his hands.

The first thing you do once you’ve got your privacy is soak your face in cold water, hoping that it’ll wash away the memory of how Spencer’s arm felt around your waist with your sweat.

But he didn’t know that. And you weren’t planning on telling him anytime soon.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #mgg #asks 🫶

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lilac-5ky · 11 months

Text

The one where he refuses to shower (Toji xFem!Reader)

A/N: Decided to launch a series of domestic drabbles for Toji and his wife to practice writing smaller fics and fleshing out my headcanons. All parts can be read separately and in random order.

tags: Toji's naked, but it's fluff.

Series Masterlist

“Nononono, mister.” You quickly hog all four corners of the bed like a starfish stretching its limbs. “You’re not getting in bed in these clothes.”

Toji’s knee is balanced on the edge of the covers, his cream-colored pants looking muddier and bloodier than ever. His green eyes are remarkably harsh while he watches you dog-ear the page of your book and toss it on the nightstand, bracing yourself for the grand face-off between you; the man who makes a living out of dirty business and the woman who cleans after his dirty laundry free of charge.

“Why not?” He has the audacity to ask as if the Bigfoot-sized footprints leading to your bedroom’s door were left by a stranger.

“Because you stink.” Your voice sounds cartoonish as you exaggerate the smell by pinching your nose bridge between two fingers. “Go change or shower—even better.”

Seeing that glint of sheer stubbornness flaring in your eyes, Toji knows you won’t give up. He knows that, and he still finds a way to defy you as he sheds his clothes off and hurries in the opposite direction of the bathroom.

“Go away, Stinky-man!” You whine along with the bedsprings, finding yourself trapped underneath this smug boulder of a man. You flap your hands against his biceps to push him off, but it’s pointless. Toji has you right where he wants you, the scent of his 3-day absence rubbing on every cell of your body.

“Y’are the one who told me to get naked.” He argues, nuzzling his face into the dip of your neck. The light stubble on his chin prickles your skin while he peppers you with kisses that feel more like deep inhales.

“Told you to change and—ugh—shower!” Your legs arch only to fall back onto the bedsheets, unable to make a difference in your brawl.

“Can’t do either without getting naked first, dumbass.”

To your annoyance, he has a point there, and the smell, as bad as you claim it was, is mostly reassuring to you, who worries whether he’ll make it back alive every time the door closes.

You flail a bit longer for the sake of keeping up appearances, your smacks lacking the malice of your words, until Toji rolls off your body and pulls you onto his chest. This is much better. At least you can now breathe without feeling like your lungs are going to collapse inside your ribs.

“You also stink now.” He grins victoriously.

Your husband squeezes you tight in his arms, his body wide enough to use as a second bed. You are the one who nuzzles to him this time, comfortably fitting your head below his chin. His grip relaxes. You can leave whenever you want, but you don’t. You don’t want to.

“You’re the worst.” Your voice reflects your pout.

His fingers comb through your hair. “Must have done something good to be with the best.”

“Now undress.”

#toji x reader #jjk x reader #toji headcanons #toji drabbles #toji fluff #toji smut #toji angst #toji x yn #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro

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glittervame · 4 months

Text

Valentines day

(Happy National Single Persons Appreciation Day!)

Mattheo

Mattheo would not even make a big deal about it it seems like he forgot about it altogether

In the days leading up to it he continues like normal while everyone else is rushing around the castle, girls worrying about their makeup and outfits, boys worrying about their tuxes and gifts

You, hinting at wanting him to ask you to be his Valentine are extremely frustrated

Subtly dropping hints in class saying really obvious things like, “Man I saw this really pretty necklace with hearts on it down in Hogsmead, I wish I got it”

Comments like this seemingly blowing over his head as he just nods along to whatever you’re saying

When asked what he’s doing for Valentine's Day he shrugs and brushes it off, not giving it another thought

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

On said day he sits down next to you at breakfast, kisses you on the cheek, wishes you a happy valentines Day, and starts to eat the heart-shaped pancakes in front of him

Sometime during the morning after breakfast, he sends you a gift, The box containing the pretty necklace you had asked for

Throughout the day you’ll find little love notes in your bags and books, your favorite pieces of candy attached

The last note says ‘Diners at six’

You kind of wanted to go to the dance but dinner sounds better anyway

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Dinner’s lovely, it’s a nice fancy restaurant, the lights are dimmed and classy music plays in the background

Fancy champagne is poured and those annoyingly tiny little servings of food are served

You guys chat about your lives and the different kinds of gossip from different houses

When you leave and admit you’re still hungry he takes you to another food place to get you fed

“Anything you want Mi querida”

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

When you get back he brings you back to a room all decorated in pink and red, candles lining all of the solid surfaces in the room

Strips you down off all your clothes and ties you up in pretty red ribbons

Mattheo focused entirely on you, spending at least an hour between your legs (Mostly for his pleasure because he loves the way you taste) making you squirm and beg him to stop

He only stops when he slips his fingers between your legs real nice and slow, kissing light feathery kisses along your shoulders and forehead

With tears rolling down your face he pulls his fingers away and licks them up

“You taste good pretty girl”

Theodore

Theo sends little gifts and love notes all week, he constantly makes sure that there is a smile on your face no matter what

He’s the type to get creative about it, from the bracelet that you had looked at a little too long in a fancy little box sitting next to your pillow when you woke up, to the book that you had commented on saving up for a couple of months ago somehow finding its way into your bag during lunch

On the way to your classes, he holds your hand extra tight as if you’d disappear if he lost contact

During the week he takes you on mini dates, To the new cat cafe that popped up in Hogs Mead, together in the three broomsticks sipping on hot chocolate, even setting up a movie night in his dorm; taking snacks from the school’s kitchen

“Anything for you bella”

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

On Valentine's Day, you wake up to find a pretty new bracelet next to a ring that matches the dress you’re going to wear

In a cheery mood, you make your way to the great hall which is decorated in red tencel and floating red hearts instead of the regularly floating candles

Sitting next to your friends you chat about their valentines Day plans, theo comes up to you with your favorite chocolate arranged in a heart and gives it to you with a small smile

With a kiss on your lips, he’s wishing you a happy valentines Day before going and meeting up with his friends

Your friends squeal about how cute that was and how they wish their own boyfriends were as sweet as Theo or how they wish they had a Theo themselves. He’s one of a kind tho so too bad for them :(

“Have a good day love”

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

That evening he greats you with a big bouquet of glitter roses in your favorite color with a few gift cards to your favorite places attached to them (He likes to keep up with the trends)

He takes you on a stroll through an extravagant garden holding onto your hand the whole time excitingly telling you which ones can be found in Italy and how they grow

After the garden stroll, he brings you to a cafe that’s a little bit classier but it has cute little cats running around. You guys have genuine conversations, you talk about how you want to travel to different places over the summer and he suggests that you go to Italy with him for a couple of weeks.

Overall it was a pretty great having

“Are you having a good time?”

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

He holds you in a tight hug on the way back to his dorm protecting you from Hogwarts' wacky-ass school weather, you’re chatting and giggling about some stupid thing that you guys saw on the way

When you do get into the castle he takes you to the kitchen to get more hot cocoa and a few snacks before dragging you back to his dorm

He’s set up a small fort in his bed and a movie screen that's cast onto a wall making the screen bigger, one last gift for you sitting on it; a lobster squishmallow with a small crown sitting on top of it’s head.

You guys watched movies ranging from The Princess Bride to The Incredibles; laying tangled in each other, you stayed like that for the rest of the night until you fell asleep

All of you guys are my valentines <3

#fypシ #writers on tumblr #writing prompt #idk what else to tag #mattheoxreader #my man <3 #mattheo riddle #theo #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #harry potter fandom

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lsdoiphin · 6 months

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Foods of Vestur

@broncoburro and @chocodile provoked me into doing some illustrated worldbuilding for Forever Gold ( @forevergoldgame ), an endeavor I was happy to undertake. Unbeknownst to me, it would take the better part of a week to draw.

In the process, I conjured about an essay's worth of fantasy food worldbuilding, but I'm going to try and keep things digestible (pardon my pun). Lore under the cut:

The Middle Kingdom

The Middle Kingdom has ample land, and its soil, landscapes, and temperate climate are amenable to growing a variety of crops and raising large quantities of livestock. The Midland palate prefers fresh ingredients with minimal seasoning; if a dish requires a strong taste, a cook is more likely to reach for a sharp cheese than they are to open their spice drawer. Detractors of Middle Kingdom cuisine describe it as bland, but its flavor relies on the quality of its components more than anything.

KEY CROPS: wheat, potatoes, carrots, green beans, apples, pears, and grapes KEY LIVESTOCK: Midland goats, fowl, and hogs

ROAST FOWL: Cheap and easy to raise, fowl is eaten all over Vestur and by all classes. Roasted whole birds are common throughout, but the Middle Kingdom's approach to preparation is notable for their squeamish insistence on removing the head and neck before roasting, even among poorer families. Fowl is usually roasted on a bed of root vegetables and shallots and served alongside gravy and green beans.

GOAT RIBEYE: Vestur does not have cattle – instead it has a widely diversified array of goats, the most prominent being the Middle Kingdom's own Midland goat. The Midland goat is a huge caprid that fills the same niche as cattle, supplying Vestur with meat and dairy products. Chevon from the Midland goat is tender with a texture much like beef, though it retains a gamier, “goat-ier” taste. It is largely eaten by the wealthy, though the tougher and cheaper cuts can be found in the kitchens of the working class. Either way, it is almost always served with gravy. (You may be sensing a pattern already here. Midlanders love their gravy.)

FETTUCCINE WITH CHEESE: Noodles were brought to the Middle Kingdom through trade with the South and gained popularity as a novel alternative to bread. The pasta of Midland Vestur is largely eaten with butter or cream sauce; tomato or pesto sauces are seldom seen.

CHARCUTERIE WITH WINE: Charcuterie is eaten for the joy of flavors rather than to satiate hunger, and therefore it is mainly eaten by the upper class. It is commonly eaten alongside grape wine, a prestigious alcohol uniquely produced by the Middle Kingdom. The flavor of grape wine is said to be more agreeable than the other wines in Vestur, though Southern pineapple wine has its share of defenders.

BREAD WITH JAM AND PRESERVES, TEA SANDWICHES, & ROSETTE CAKE: Breads and pastries are big in the Middle Kingdom. The Middle Kingdom considers itself the world leader in the art of baking. Compared to its neighbors, the baked goods they make are soft, light, and airy and they are proud of it. Cakes in particular are a point of ego and a minor source of mania among nobility; it is a well-established cultural joke that a Middle Kingdom noble cannot suffer his neighbor serving a bigger, taller cake. The cakes at Middle Kingdom parties can reach nauseatingly wasteful and absurdist heights, and there is no sign of this trend relenting any time soon.

CHOWDER, FARMER'S POT PIE, GRIDDLECAKES, EGGS, CURED MEATS: If you have the means to eat at all in the Middle Kingdom, you are probably eating well. Due to the Midland's agricultural strength, even peasant dishes are dense and filling. Eggs and cured meats are abundant, cheaper, and more shelf stable than fresh cuts and provide reprieve from the unending wheat and dairy in the Midland diet.

STEWED APPLES AND PEARS, JAM AND PRESERVES: The Midland grows a number of different fruits, with apples and pears being the most plentiful. In a good year, there will be more fruit than anyone knows what to do with, and so jams and preserves are widely available. Stewed fruit has also gained popularity, especially since trade with the Southern Kingdom ensures a stable supply of sugar and cinnamon.

NORTHERN KINGDOM - SETTLED

The Northern Kingdom is a harsh and unforgiving land. Historically, its peoples lived a nomadic life, but since the unification of the Tri-Kingdom more and more of the Northern population have opted to live a settled life. The “settled North” leads a hard life trying to make agriculture work on the tundra, but it is possible with the help of green meur. The Northern palate leans heavily on preserved and fermented foods as well as the heat from the native tundra peppers. Outsiders often have a hard time stomaching the salt, tang, and spice of Northern cuisine and it is widely considered “scary.”

KEY CROPS: potatoes, beets, carrots, tundra pepper KEY LIVESTOCK: wooly goats, hares*

GOAT POT ROAST: Life up north is hard work and there is much to be done in a day. Thus, slow cooked one-pot meals that simmer throughout the day are quite common.

VENISON WITH PICKLES: Game meat appears in Northern dishes about as much as farmed meat – or sometimes even more, depending on the location. Even “classier” Northern dishes will sometimes choose game meat over domesticated, as is the case with the beloved venison with pickles. Cuts of brined venison are spread over a bed of butter-fried potato slices and potent, spicy pickled peppers and onions. The potatoes are meant to cut some of the saltiness of the dish, but... most foreigners just say it tastes like salt, vinegar, and burning.

MINER STEW: While outsiders often have a hard time distinguishing miner stew from the multitude of beet-tinged stews and pot roasts, the taste difference is unmistakable. Miner's stew is a poverty meal consisting of pickles and salt pork and whatever else is might be edible and available. The end result is a sad bowl of scraps that tastes like salt and reeks of vinegar. The popular myth is that the dish got its name because the Northern poor began putting actual rocks in it to fill out the meal, which... probably never happened, but facts aren't going to stop people from repeating punchy myths.

RYE TOAST WITH ONION JAM: Rye is hardier than wheat, and so rye bread is the most common variety in the North. Compared to Midland bread, Northern bread is dense and gritty. It is less likely to be enjoyed on its own than Midland bread, both because of its composition and because there's less to put on it. Unless you've the money to import fruit spreads from further south, you're stuck with Northern jams such as onion or pepper jam. Both have their appreciators, but bear little resemblance to the fruit and berry preserves available elsewhere in Vestur.

HARE DAIRY: Eating hare meat is prohibited in polite society due to its association with the haretouched and heretical nomadic folk religions, but hare dairy is fair game. Hare cheese ranges from black to plum in color, is strangely odorless, and has a pungent flavor akin to a strong blue cheese. It is the least contentious of hare milk products. Hare milk, on the other hand, is mildly toxic. If one is not acclimated to hare milk, drinking it will likely make them “milk sick” and induce vomiting. It is rarely drunk raw, and is instead fermented into an alcoholic drink similar to kumis.

MAPLE HARES AND NOMAD CANDY: Maple syrup is essentially the only local sweetener available in the North, and so it is the primary flavor of every Northern dessert. Simple maple candies are the most common type of sweet, though candied tundra peppers – known as “nomad candy” – is quite popular as well. (Despite its name, nomad candy is an invention of the settled North and was never made by nomads.)

TUNSUKH: Tunsukh is one of the few traditions from the nomadic era still widely (and openly) practiced among Northern nobility. It is a ceremonial dinner meant as a test of strength and endurance between political leaders: a brutally spiced multi-course meal, with each course being more painful than the last. Whoever finishes the dinner with a stoic, tear-streaked face triumphs; anyone who cries out in pain or reaches for a glass of milk admits defeat. “Dessert” consists of a bowl of plain, boiled potatoes. After the onslaught of tunsukh, it is sweeter than any cake.

NORTHERN KINGDOM – NOMADIC NORTH

Although the Old Ways are in decline, the nomadic clans still live in the far North beyond any land worth settling. They travel on hareback across the frozen wasteland seeking “meur fonts” - paradoxical bursts of meur that erupt from the ice and provide momentary reprieve from the harsh environment. The taste of nomad food is not well documented.

KEY CROPS: N/A KEY LIVESTOCK: hares

PEMMICAN: Nomadic life offers few guarantees. With its caloric density and functionally indefinite “shelf life,” pemmican is about as close as one can get.

SEAL, MOOSE: Meat comprises the vast majority of the nomadic diet and is eaten a variety of ways. Depending on the clan, season, and availability of meur fonts, meat may be cooked, smoked, turned to jerky, or eaten raw. Moose and seal are the most common sources of meat, but each comes with its own challenges. Moose are massive, violent creatures and dangerous to take down even with the aid of hares; seals are slippery to hunt and only live along the coasts.

WANDER FOOD, WANDER STEW: When a green meur font appears, a lush jungle springs forth around it. The heat from red meur fonts may melt ice and create opportunities for fishing where there weren't before. Any food obtained from a font is known as “wander food.” Wander food is both familiar and alien; the nomads have lived by fonts long enough to know what is edible and what is not, but they may not know the common names or preparation methods for the food they find. Fish is simple enough to cook, but produce is less predictable. Meur fonts are temporary, and it's not guaranteed that you'll ever find the same produce twice - there is little room to experiment and learn. As a result, a lot of wander food is simply thrown into a pot and boiled into “wander stew,” an indescribable dish which is different each time.

CENVAVESH: When a haretouched person dies, their hare is gripped with the insatiable compulsion to eat its former companion... therefore, it is only proper to return the favor. Barring injury or illness, a bonded hare will almost always outlive its bonded human, and so the death of one's hare is considered a great tragedy among nomads. The haretouched – and anyone they may invite to join them – sits beside the head of their hare as they consume as much of its rib and organ meat as they can. Meanwhile, the rest of the clan processes the remainder of the hare's carcass so that none of it goes to waste. It is a somber affair that is treated with the same gravity as the passing of a human. Cenvavesh is outlawed as a pagan practice in the settled North.

HARE WINE: While fermented hare's milk is already alcoholic, further fermentation turns it into a vivid hallucinogen. This “hare wine” is used in a number of nomad rituals, most notably during coming of age ceremonies. Allegedly, it bestows its drinker with a hare's intuition and keen sense of direction... of course, truth is difficult to distinguish from fiction when it comes to the Old Ways.

SOUTHERN KINGDOM

The Southern Kingdom is mainly comprised of coast, wetland, and ever-shrinking jungle. While the land is mostly unfit for large-scale agriculture, seafood is plentiful and the hot climate is perfect for exorbitant niche crops. What they can't grow, they obtain easily through trade. Southerners have a reputation for eating anything, as well as stealing dishes from other cultures and “ruining” them with their own interpretations. KEY CROPS: plantains, sweet potato, pineapple, mango, guava, sugarcane KEY LIVESTOCK: fowl, marsh hogs, seals

GLAZED EEL WITH FRIED PLANTAINS: A very common configuration for Southern food is a glazed meat paired with a fried vegetable. It almost doesn't matter which meat and which vegetable it is – they love their fried food and they love their sweet and salty sauces in the South. Eel is a culturally beloved meat, much to the shock and confusion of visiting Midlanders.

NARWHAL STEW: Narwhal stew is the South's “anything goes” stew. It does not actually contain narwhal meat, as they are extinct (though the upper class may include dolphin meat as a protein) – instead, the name comes from its traditional status as a “forever soup,” as narwhals are associated with the passage of time in Southern culture. Even in the present day, Southern monasteries tend massive, ever-boiling pots of perpetual stew in order to feed the monks and sybils who live there. Narwhal stew has a clear kelp-based broth and usually contains shellfish. Beyond that, its ingredients are extremely varied. Noodles are a popular but recent addition.

FORAGE: The dish known as “forage” is likewise not foraged, or at least, it hasn't been forage-based in a good hundred years at least. Forage is a lot like poke; it's a little bit of everything thrown into a bowl. Common ingredients include fish (raw or cooked), seaweed, fried noodles, marinated egg, and small quantities of fruit.

HOT POT: Hot pot is extremely popular, across class barriers, in both the South proper and its enclave territories. This is due to its extreme flexibility - if it can be cooked in a vat of boiling broth, it will be. Crustaceans and shellfish are common choices for hot pot in the proper South, along with squid, octopus, mushrooms, and greens.

FLATBREAD: The Southern Kingdom doesn't do much baking. The vast majority of breads are fried, unleavened flatbreads, which are usually eaten alongside soups or as wraps. Wraps come in both savory and sweet varieties; savory wraps are usually stuffed with shredded pork and greens while sweet wraps – which are much more expensive – are filled with fruit and seal cheese.

GRILLED SKEWERS, ROAST SWEET POTATO: While a novel concept for Midlanders and Northerners, street food has long been a part of Southern Kingdom culture. You would be hard pressed to find a Southern market that didn't have at least three vendors pushing grilled or fried something or other. Skewers are the most common and come in countless configurations, but roast sweet potatoes are a close second.

CUT FRUIT AND SEAL CHEESE: Fresh fruit is popular in the South, both local and imported. While delicious on its own, Southerners famously pair it with seal cheese. Which leads me to an important topic of discussion I don't have room for anywhere else...

THE SOUTH AND CHEESE: Since the South doesn't have much in the way of dairy farming, cheese is somewhat rare in their cuisine – but it is present. And important. Cheese is the domain of the Church. Common goat dairy imported from the Middle Kingdom is turned to cheese by monks in Southern monasteries and sold to the Southern public, yes, but as you have noticed there is another cheese prominent in the Southern Kingdom diet: seal cheese. Seal cheese is unlike anything else that has ever been called cheese; the closest it can be compared to is mascarpone. It is is a soft, creamy cheese with a mild flavor and an indulgent fat content. It is used almost exclusively as a dessert, though it is only ever mildly sweetened if at all. It is extremely costly and held in high regard; the most religious Southerners regard it as holy. Dairy seals are a very rare animal and raised exclusively in a small number of Cetolist-Cerostian monasteries, where they are tended and milked by the monks. Due to their status as a holy animal, eating seal meat is forbidden. Eating their cheese and rendering their tallow into soap is fine though.

(HEARTLAND SOUTH) SOUTH-STYLE GOAT: The Heartland South is a Southern enclave territory in the Middle Kingdom. Visiting Midland dignitaries oft wrongly assume that because the Heartland South is in Middle Kingdom territory, Heartland Southerners eat the same food they do exactly as they do. They are horrified to find that familiar sounding dishes like “goat with potatoes” are completely and utterly unrecognizable, drenched in unfamiliar sauces and spices and served alongside fruit they've never eaten. Meanwhile, Heartland Southerners firmly believe that they have fixed the Middle Kingdom's boring food.

(BOREAL SOUTH) “TUNSUKH”: If Midlanders are afraid of Heartland Southern food, Northerners are absolutely furious about cuisine from the Boreal South - the most legendarily offensive being the Boreal South's idea of “tunsukh.” Southerners are no stranger to spice, so when Southern traders began interacting with the North, they liked tunsukh! It's just... they thought it needed a little Southern help to become a real meal, you know? A side of seal cheese soothed the burn and made the meal enjoyable. And because the meal was enjoyable, the portion sizes increased. And plain boiled potatoes? Well, those are a little too plain – creamy mashed sweet potato feels like more of a dessert, doesn't it? ...For some reason, Northerners didn't agree, but that's okay. The Boreal South knows they're just embarrassed they didn't think of pairing seal cheese with tunsukh sooner.

ARMY RATIONS

The food eaten by the King's Army is about what you would expect for late 1700s military; salt pork or salt chevon, hard tack, and coffee. The biggest divergence they have is also one of Vestur's biggest points of pride: they have the means to supply their troops with frivolous luxuries like small tins of candied fruit from the Midland. A love of candied fruit is essentially a Vesturian military proto-meme; proof that they serve the greatest Tri-Kingdom on the planet. Don't get between a military man and his candied fruit unless you want a fight.

#verse: forever gold #worldbuilding #fantasy worldbuilding #food worldbuilding #fantasy food #food art #animal death//#might have to proofread this later forgive any typos I am tired

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just-jordie-things · 8 months

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[epilogue] to build a home - gojo satoru

word count: 25.4k warnings: swearing, drinking. reader has absent parents summary: just a handful of events that transpired after the conclusion of to build a home.

to build a home series masterlist

[epilogue] : "For You, For Me"

___

[ cause i built a home, for you, for me ]

Maybe it was just the beautiful stretch of summer into early fall, but the days had seemed lighter. As though the sun’s rays lasted a little longer each day, as though the great bright star couldn’t bear to part with the day too soon.

Or maybe (y/n) was just so sickeningly happy all the time that she finally noticed the sunny days when they came around, and learned to properly appreciate them. If the sun was shining, she was dragging the two kids out of the apartment and anywhere else- as long as they were outside.

Summer vacation was mostly spent at the park, or at the public market, when Megumi was in a good enough mood to go, anyways. Tsumiki loved going to the market with (y/n), especially since she’d get to pick out all of her favorite fruits and veggies for the upcoming week. Megumi mostly clung like a shadow behind (y/n), hating the busy space and strangers who were too friendly. There was the rare occasion that he’d want to look at the stalls of old books, and (y/n) found that with the promise of looking for a new book, he would relax a little more in the high traffic area. Was it bribery? Maybe. But didn’t all parents have to bribe their kids at some point?

Most nights were spent relaxing, a luxury that (y/n) wouldn’t give up for all the treasures of the world.

Gathering in the living room to watch a movie with snacks covering the coffee table had become a weekly ritual. They took turns picking out a movie, and the rule was always that if they could compromise when it’s a movie one of them isn’t interested in, then snacks were on her. Of course a certain Six Eyes user tended to drop by not-so-at-random with a backpack full of sweets and long limbs that took up most of the couch. Megumi would bring a pile of blankets to the floor when Satoru joined them for movie nights, claiming that he and (y/n) would hog all the cushions. It was mostly Satoru, as (y/n) would try to cling to one side of the sofa, but her attempts were to no avail. Satoru always found a way to crowd her until she was practically curled up under his arm. Megumi would stick his tongue out in Tsumiki’s direction, disgusted by the abundance of physical affection that Satoru demanded to give to (y/n). Tsumiki, however, always found it sweet.

Other nights they’d spend in comfortable silence, the three of them in their favorite cozy spots as they read to themselves. (y/n) often sprawled across the living room sofa with whatever she was reading. Tsumiki liked to read in a little nook she’d made in the corner of her room, complete with a string of twinkly lights and a big bean bag chair. Megumi would join (y/n) in the living room, sitting in the oversized chair that matched the living room set. He was so small in the large cushions he could lay any which way he pleased, but he most often sat crisscrossed with his new favorite book in his lap. Sometimes (y/n) would convince him to read to her, even when he was halfway through a story she hadn’t been familiar with. She enjoyed the peaceful quality time, even if it was spent in hours of silence.

And then there was her favorite way for the kids to spend their evenings- coloring. It was a simple activity, one that she’d indulged in as a child often enough, but hadn’t thought much about until she’d randomly picked up a big pack of crayons on a grocery trip. It must’ve been a good choice, because Megumi and Tsumiki got right to work on their imaginations. Now their rooms, and the refrigerator, were covered in their artwork. Tsumiki liked to draw flowers, sometimes full meadows complete with a sunny sky and rainbows, and sometimes she’d practice different petals with different colors, always trying to learn new things. Megumi liked to draw his shikigami, giving each one that manifests it’s own name. He also liked to draw characters from his favorite books. (y/n) helped him to carefully tape them up on his bookshelf to display properly. However she had hand-picked a few of their drawings to go on the fridge- which held the same honor as a knight being sworn into duty. There were a few of Tsumiki’s flowers, and a few of Megumi’s favorite scenes from his books- even the darker ones that held a touch of blood and gore (y/n) would have to talk to him about before he went back to school- but there was one in particular that outshined them all.

It was a drawing they’d done together, on a larger piece of cardstock, of all of them. There was a carefully drawn out scribble that resembled her, in her signature uniform- black collared jacket and matching black pants- her hair was meticulously thought out, the crayon color carefully chosen, and the strokes of length determined while the pair of kids studied her closely, making sure that their drawing resembled her true form perfectly. On either side of her stick figure self was one of them, Megumi identified by the sea urchin he’d drawn on top of his head, and Tsumiki by the smile that took up her whole face and the big pink bow in her hair that she wore religiously since (y/n) had gotten it for her. Lastly, and maybe (y/n’s) favorite part, was that Megumi had chosen to add his dogs to the family portrait. Sitting right beside each other with little squiggles around their tails to show they were happily wagging, and complete with the red markings on their heads.

As soon as they’d presented this drawing to (y/n), she’d almost burst into tears at how sweet it was. They laughed at her teary eyes while she smiled and gazed fondly at the picture, taking in every little detail and committing it to memory. She deemed it the greatest gift she’d ever received, and marched it right to the fridge, clipping it up with magnets. It took up most of the freezer door, but it would stay there until it was time for it to be moved to a new fridge.

When back to school season rolled around, (y/n) dragged them off to the mall, proudly displaying her earnings from the assignments she’d picked up over the summer. Now that she wasn’t a student anymore, getting paid to exorcize demons had become a great source of income. Of course in the midst of Megumi and Tsumiki ogling all the new backpacks with bright colors and anime characters, their favorite special grade sorcerer showed up with a black card that seemed to hold boundless funds, as he paid for every little thing either one of the children picked up.

“They’re going to grow up with a bad understanding of how money works, Satoru” (y/n) had scolded him while Megumi and Tsumiki watched a cashier ring up hundreds of dollars worth of supplies they ‘needed’.

“Nah, I’ll buy them the best tutor in Japan so they don’t” He’d replied, sticking his tongue out at her.

(y/n) rolled her eyes, but as she turned her head away to ignore him, she couldn’t help the small smile that graced her face. She’d been making enough money to support this small makeshift family, but having Satoru around to help was still appreciated. Of course, she could never tell him that. His ego was big enough for the both of them.

Once school was back in session, a decent routine was established. (y/n) picked up as many assignments during the days as she could, so that her nights could be spent helping them with homework, making dinner, getting chores done, and all the other little things that eat away at your free time when you’re an adult. Not that she could complain, she adored every minute of the new life she worked to maintain. However there was the occasion where an assignment too good to pass up would be on her radar in the evenings. It only took one mention of this to Satoru for him to enlist himself as a babysitter.

It wasn’t often that she’d be gone in the evenings. She liked to be present at all times when Megumi and Tsumiki were home. They’d spent too much of their lives being alone, and while they proved to be self-sufficient, it made (y/n’s) heart sink at the thought of purposefully leaving them home alone. So when Satoru showed up on the evening she’d been offered a well-paid assignment to hunt down a Grade Two cursed object, she let him stay to watch the kids. Not before giving Tsumiki all of the emergency numbers she could think of, and reminding Megumi of the pendant she’d given him, also in the case of an emergency.

“It’s like you don’t trust me, sweetheart!” Satoru had laughed when she spent too long saying her goodbyes at the door. He hastily began pushing her out, making sure her weapons were secure in their holsters on her back. “Go! Go! Have fun! We’ll be fine here!”

“Okay, just don’t forget they go to bed at-”

“Nine o’clock, I’ve got it”

“And they need to brush their teeth-”

“I’m capable!” He barked at her, all but closing the door in her face while he wore a massive grin.

Long story short, Satoru had given the Fushiguro kids twenty bucks if they promised not to tell her that they’d been up long past their bedtime watching an anime with him that was probably less than appropriate for their age. But they’d just loved it so much he’d insisted they binge half the series. It was the closest thing to quality time with Megumi that he was going to get, as the kid begrudgingly sat on the couch next to him with his eyes glued to the screen. Satoru did his best to cover their eyes when an unsavory scene played, which Tsumiki appreciated, but Megumi always pawed the man’s hand away so he could see what was happening.

“If you get nightmares, (y/n’s) going to kill me” He scolded, clamping his palm over the kid’s whole face to ensure he wasn’t going to catch sight of any true horror.

“I don’t get nightmares!” Megumi argued, trying to claw the hand off his face, but his efforts led nowhere, and he only found himself more annoyed as the man-child laughed at the attempt.

It was nearing the middle of the night when Satoru finally turned off the television and sent them off to brush their teeth. Worried (y/n) would return soon and catch them in the act of disobeying her few rules, he rushed them with hurried claps and chanting to get them into their pajamas and under the covers. It was Megumi who’d attempted blackmailing him, reminding him that (y/n) was going to know they were up late. With an amused grin he’d given the boy a fiver.

“Five dollars?” Megumi gave him a bored look, remembering that shopping day with the magic black credit card that paid for his and Tsumiki’s back-to-school haul. (And a few things for (y/n) too, no matter how much she protested)

Grimacing, Satoru smacked a twenty on his nightstand with the warning that any more, and he’d tell (y/n) he acted up all night and should be punished. Megumi stuck his tongue out at the man as he flipped off the lights and shut the door for the night.

Joke’s on him, the boy thought bitterly as he settled into his blankets. (y/n) would believe me over that grown child any day of the week, he thinks with certainty. He wasn’t wrong. If it was Satoru’s word against Megumi’s, the liar was evident in his charming smile and flashing eyes.

Satoru had just come back to the living room to clean up the small mess of blankets they’d made when the doorknob rattled with the familiar sound of a key unlocking it. (y/n) dragged her feet as she made her way inside, a bit surprised to see Satoru awake and alert, her collection of throw blankets draped over his arms and shoulders.

“How’d the assignment go?” He asked as she kicked off her boots, flinging them towards the door with lazy movements.

“I completed it, let’s leave it at that,” She says, and he’d take concern in her words if they weren’t followed by a chuckle, and a small smile sent his way. “Thank you for watching the kids, Satoru, I really appreciate it”

He thinks back to this night often, as it was the beginning of (y/n) putting some trust in him as a caretaker.

Every few weeks now he’d show up in the evening to put the kids to bed while she was out exorcizing curses. Babysitting slowly morphed into him inviting himself over for movie nights, or even for no reason at all. The kids- yes, Megumi too- grew used to the man showing up unannounced, before school while (y/n) made breakfast, or during pickup time right by her side, seemingly just as excited to greet them as she was. He just seemed to be around, sometimes. Tsumiki loved it, as it usually meant spoiling with toys and ice cream and whatever else (y/n) would let him get away with. Megumi… tolerated it. But at least he didn’t despise it anymore.

There was a morning (y/n) had gotten a call from Jujutsu Tech just as she was prepping their lunches for that day, and to her luck Satoru was there and happy to make their lunches for them so that she didn’t have to ignore what could potentially be an important call.

“Okay, just, do you mind making them a little drawing or note, too?” She’d rummaged through a messy cabinet drawer to produce a pack of post-it notes and a pink marker. “I always leave them a message, or a doodle, or something”

With her phone pressed between her shoulder and ear as she intently listened to whoever was on the other end, Satoru grinned as he accepted this mission, and got to work.

It wasn’t until she picked them up from school that (y/n) realized her mistake. Megumi was clutching his stomach as he hobbled towards her in the courtyard, while Tsumiki was skipping along beside her brother, happier than ever.

“What’s wrong? Tummy hurt?” (y/n) knelt down before the boy, her hand resting over her forehead to see if it was a fever. He groaned and practically fell against her.

“Carry me”

It wasn’t like him, so she had to laugh as she slung his little backpack over her arm before lifting him up, hearing him groan and moan as all the sweets in his stomach sloshed around like poison.

“Gojo gave us candy! And cookies!”

(y/n’s) head swiveled down to where Tsumiki was walking- well, still skipping- at her side.

“What did you say?”

“Gojo gave us sweets for lunch,” Megumi grumbled as his head slumped into her shoulder, his eyes squeezing shut as a particularly painful knot wound itself up in his stomach. “And money”

“What!?” (y/n) snapped, louder than she should have, as the other parents at pick-up gave her a mix of shocked and dirty looks. Not that she cared. Her kid was sick and it was because that idiot didn’t know what a vegetable looked like!

“I got fifty dollars!” Tsumiki cheered.

“I got a hundred” Megumi whined.

(y/n) gave the boy a few children’s tums as soon as they got back to the apartment, before tucking him into bed so he could hopefully sleep off the tummyache.

“You just rest, don’t worry about your homework, I’ll call the school if you can’t get to it tonight, okay?”

Megumi only grumbled and groaned in his gratitude as he curled in on himself. (y/n) frowned. The poor kid was squirming around in discomfort and there wasn’t much else she could do about it.

Well, there was one thing…

“Hey sweetheart,” Satoru’s grin could be heard even through the phone. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this call~?”

“Gojo Satoru, you get your ass to this apartment right now!”

From her spot at the kitchen table where she’d been studiously doing her homework, Tsumiki perked right up at (y/n’s) hollering from the living room. Her eyes went wide as she grinned with excitement. She’d never seen (y/n) mad before, not like this anyways.

Just as she’d summoned him, the man himself stood before her in the living room, grinning as though he hadn’t just been screamed at.

“Pretty early in the day for a bootycall-”

“Satoru!” (y/n) barked at him, her arms flying out as she placed her hands on her hips. “Did you give the kids sweets and money for their lunch!?”

“Yeah, they loved it, right?” He looked proud, and she swore she could strangle him.

If she had a nickel for every time she didn’t strangle him…

Tsumiki couldn’t even pretend to do her homework while (y/n) went on a long rant about how much of an idiot was, followed by something about not knowing how to make a sandwich, and then the grand finale of her grabbing him by the wrist and yanking him down the hallway so he could see the effects of his unhealthy meal for Megumi. Even as (y/n’s) scolding took on hushed whispers so as not to wake the sleeping boy, Tsumiki could still hear the harsh tone from down the hall.

When she was dragging him back towards the kitchen again, the young girl quickly picked up her pencil and kept her eyes on her paper. She wasn’t fast enough, as Satoru noticed and stuck his tongue out at her.

‘Tattletale’ he mouthed at her.

She grinned back at him unapologetically.

(y/n) spent the next fifteen minutes giving Satoru a full tour of the kitchen, pointing out each and every item each of the kids loved, and then she dragged him through it all again to show him what they each disliked. Tsumiki worked on her studies the whole time, and not once did she see the white haired man complain. He certainly didn’t look pleased about spending his afternoon being scolded like a misbehaving pet, but he didn’t make a peep about it.

He even stuck around the rest of the afternoon to help out with any other chores (y/n) needed done, and he helped make dinner, too. Well, (y/n) was the one instructing him on what to do, but Tsumiki found the meal to be edible, and actually semi-okay!

(y/n) let him get off easy, as long as he apologized to Megumi when he woke up. Which he did, and which Megumi begrudgingly accepted.

He’s given the chance to completely redeem himself a few weeks later on a morning (y/n) made pancakes for breakfast. He made the Fushiguro kids the perfect lunches as he’d called them, and he insisted only a heaping scoop of chocolate chips in his pancakes, not theirs. (Though he did sneak a handful into Tsumiki’s grabby hands when she caught him dumping the entire bag into the batter). He even added his own notes in their lunch bags, even though (y/n) had already put her own doodles in them.

Have a good day! Don’t forget to participate a lot so the teacher favors you and gives you good grades! He’d written for Tsumiki.

Make sure to tell (y/n/n) that this lunch was made extra special for you so i get some brownie points <3 Was Megumi’s note.

He rolled his eyes as he crumpled it up and threw it back into his lunch bag without a second thought. When he’d brought it home that day and put it back in it’s spot in the cupboard he’d completely forgotten it. So it sat there until the next morning when (y/n) was preparing their lunches again.

When she unzipped the bag to see the small piece of trash, she’d almost made the mistake of scolding Megumi for not throwing it away. But for some reason curiosity got the best of her as she smoothed out the creases of the pink post-it, only to be gifted with a nervous swell of her heart. She couldn’t explain why, but she tucked it away in her pocket and went about the rest of the morning with a smile on her face. Megumi and Tsumiki were just glad to see her in a good mood, and didn’t question it too much.

The subject of the note didn’t come up again until the night of (y/n’s) twentieth birthday.

With it being such a big milestone, Shoko insisted on taking her out for the night. She’d been twenty for a few months longer, and had been biting at the bit to have her best friend share nights with her on the dancefloor at the bar she’d been frequenting mostly alone. Satoru would go with her sometimes as well, since he was of age too, but Shoko claimed it was no fun when he wouldn’t drink. (y/n’s) birthday was a big deal.

So naturally and per Shoko’s demand, Satoru was set to babysit- as much as the Fushiguro kids hated the word- while Shoko took (y/n) out for the night. And it went…

“Would you take the damn shoes off already? You’re going to break an ankle” Satoru’s arm shot out to stabilize the giggling, wasted girl stumbling beside him as he tried to guide her through her building’s lobby.

“No,” (y/n) shook her head defiantly before swatting his hand at her waist with the same attitude. He didn’t move it, and she didn’t try to push off his help again. “I loooove these shoes!”

In an eager display she kicked her foot outwards, showing off the strappy heel that was already starting to untie at her ankle and droop a bit off of her foot. To Satoru’s surprise, she actually kept her balance perfectly fine on one foot.

“Keep your feet on the ground,” He reprimands anyways, just as she goes back to walking normally. “Don’t make me teleport you up there”

“Don’t you dare!” She shouts back at him, and he has to fight off a laugh as he shushes her.

He’d seen (y/n) drink before, on the occasion Shoko or Suguru had managed to get their hands on anything, but he’d never seen her like this. Although he’d been slightly annoyed when he’d been called to play designated teleporter and bring both girls home from their celebration at a club he’d never heard of. The annoyance only increased tenfold when after the initial trip, (y/n) had warned him she was bound to be sick if he did it again. Which led them here, with Satoru trying to corral her into the elevator at two in the morning.

He’d rought Shoko straight to the spare room, where she’d passed out on top of the covers without so much as a goodnight. She’d wake up feeling like she’d been struck by a bus for sure, but at least she had no issue with the effects of teleporting.

She continued to grumble about her offense to his threat. Satoru chuckled as he all but pulled her into the elevator.

“I’m not, I’m not,” He assured her, making sure she was steady leaning back against the wall before pressing the button for her floor. “You’re not gonna get sick in here, are you?”

She shakes her head, but her eyes are closed as she cranes her neck all the way back, grinning at who-knows-what. Nothing amusing had happened- besides her own drunken antics- but Satoru finds himself infected by her, and he’s smiling as well.

“It was sooo m’ch fun,” She answered his unspoken curiosity. “Shoko’s a realllyy good dancer, I had n’ idea”

“I’m glad it was fun,” He tells her, and he means it. Even when he has to guide her off the elevator and to her door like it was her first time there. “You’ll have to take me dancing with you next time, I could show you some moves”

Normally she rolls her eyes at his flirting, or hits his shoulder in that silent motion she always does to remind him that they were friends and she’d drawn a thick line in the sand just to prove it. Tonight, she giggles like she couldn’t have kept her humor and joy contained if she tried. Her teeth flash as she grins from ear to ear, her eyes crinkle and they smudge some of her mascara against her skin as they do but she doesn’t seem to care. She doesn’t seem to notice. She just smiles and laughs at him.

His heart warms, so much he worries it might melt completely if he leaves it there in the palms of her hands, but he lets it remain in it’s place anyway as he pauses at the door of her apartment, lingering in the hall for just a moment longer so he could admire her like this.

Happy. Happy with him.

Satoru might be delusional, but her head tilts to the side, almost dropping to her shoulder from how heavy it feels, and he thinks from the look in her eye, that maybe she could be admiring him, too.

Reality is cruel and reminds him that even if she was, she wasn’t in the right state of mind, and she very well could have been lost in her thoughts. So he pushes his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose before unlocking the door and making sure she walked in okay.

“You’re home!”

The excited cheer from Tsumiki is quickly drowned out by Satoru’s scolding.

“What are you both doing up?” He asked, uncharacteristically irritated with them.

“You left,” Tsumiki shrugged innocently.

Megumi, who sat beside her on the sofa, seemed to have fallen asleep against the armrest, his arms wrapped around his head for a better cushion as he continued to slumber, even through his sister’s loud shriek.

“And we wanted to give (y/n) her birthday present” The girl finished sweetly.

“It’s two in the morning, it’s not even her birthday anym-”

“Awww!” (y/n) cooed as she clasped her hands over her mouth in shock. “Tsu that’s so sweet of you! I can’t wait to see it!”

It took some arguing, but Satoru eventually convinced (y/n) to get her ridiculous heels off while he put the kids back to bed. Megumi didn’t fuss once when he picked him up off the couch. He didn’t even bat an eye. Tsumiki was a bit more upset with the trip back to bed.

“But she wants her present!”

“You can give it to her in the morning,” Satoru told her. “It’s late. She’s going to crash. Trust me, she’ll be far more excited about it tomorrow”

Tsumiki pouted as she begrudgingly climbed into bed, but didn’t argue again after Satoru tucked her in and shut her door for the night. She even gave him a small goodnight.

“Sweet dreams, kiddo”

“Is (y/n) going to be okay?” She asked before he could shut the door all the way. He laughed to himself, nodding his head.

“Nothing to worry about, she might just have a tummy ache. She’ll sleep it off,” He assured her. Tsumiki nodded back at him as she settled back into her feathery pillow, overwhelmed by her sleepiness rather quickly. “Just get some sleep, I’ll take care of her”

Tsumiki seems satisfied with this answer, as she nods and starts to drift off to sleep. What Megumi lacked in faith in Satoru, Tsumiki made up for tenfold. For starters, she seemed to actually like him. She was always happy to have him as company, always trying to climb up to his shoulders and demanding he piggy back her anywhere they went. Megumi tended to cling to (y/n’s) side, knowing she’d protect him from Satoru’s physical affections. But secondly, Tsumiki could pick up on the sweet little things that her younger brother didn’t. She noticed the way that Satoru listened when (y/n) was talking. The way his eyes never lost focus when they were on her, the way his teasing picked up, as did the pet names. Honestly, Tsumiki wasn’t sure if Megumi didn’t notice, or if he was completely ignoring it, because it was hard to miss.

Satoru was very sweet on (y/n).

So when he said he’d take care of her for the night, Tsumiki believed him.

Before Satoru can make his way back to the living room where he’d left the plastered birthday girl, he could hear her across the hall, a soft voice through the open door opposite of Tsumiki’s.

He peeks his head through the crack in the door, about to chastise her for waking up the sleeping eight year old, but the scold dies in his throat as he catches sight of them.

She’s perched on the side of his bed, one leg tucked under herself as she hums a gentle, melodic tune. One hand is combing through the mess of Megumi’s hair that’s grown tangled from his tossing and turning, and he doesn’t seem to stir or be bothered at all from the action like he usually is when someone touches his hair. But even more out of character than that, when (y/n) reaches her free hand to grab the one that Megumi had hanging off his mattress, he lets her hold onto it for a lingering minute after she carefully sets it on a more comfortable place over his covers. A few lyrics slip past her lips in a murmur of a lullaby amidst her humming. She gives his hand a squeeze, just a gentle little affirmation to remind him that she was there.

Even from the doorway, Satoru can see the boy’s small fingers wrap around her hand, squeezing back, and then keeping his hold on her. His initial surprise melts away into something softer. A warm feeling washing over his chest from knowing that Megumi found a comfort in the woman’s presence, and while he was often too reserved to tell her outright, like his sister would, it was still known that (y/n’s) care for these kids was mutual, returned by the both of them greatly.

With a small smile, (y/n) glances over to Satoru in the hallway, as though to silently ask if he’d seen the small action. He nodded back at her, before beckoning her to leave the room and let the boy sleep.

“Sleep tight, ‘gumi,” She mumbles softly, giving his head an affectionate scratch before pulling her hand from his hair. “Love you”

It was small, but undeniably heard when the half-conscious child mumbles back, “Love you too”

(y/n) pauses as she’s standing from his bed, her eyes widening with soft surprise at the whispered words. It hits her then that in the few times she’d casually bestowed them upon the kids it was never quite returned. Megumi had drifted off to sleep just as her weight had shifted off his mattress, but still, she stood over him with a look on her face as if she expected an explanation.

Not that she needed one- the words spoke for themselves. Her lips curled into a smile and the alcohol in her system wasn’t the only thing making her chest feel warm. She gave his hand another squeeze before carefully letting go, making sure it stayed in a place where it wouldn’t hang off the bed again.

On the tips of her toes she leaves the room to join Satoru in the hall. He makes sure the door is silent as he closes it behind her.

Her small smile breaks into a grin as she gazes up at him, unable to contain her excitement from hearing those silly little words.

“Did you hear that?” She murmurs as her hands grab the front of his shirt. The quick motion almost has him stumbling as she bounces eagerly. “He’s never said that to me before!” Her whispered squealing has Satoru mirroring her grin.

“I heard. I’m happy for you sweetheart,” He tells her, trying to guide her to her room so she could finally crash for the night. She stumbles along much more pliantly than she had before. “Not that you needed him to tell you, of course the kid loves you. They both do”

A bashful shade of pink dusts her face as they enter her bedroom. She falls back onto her bed with a content sigh, despite Satoru trying to get her to change into something more comfortable than the fitted little thing she’d called a dress that she’d gone out dancing in.

“I guess I knew that, but, still, it’s nice to hear,” She murmurs up at the ceiling as she stretches her arms across the length of her bed. She’s bent over it, her toes barely touching the floor as her legs dangle off the side, but in her stupor she seems comfortable enough. “Makes me feel like I’m doing something right, yaknow?”

She pats the spot beside her with her hand, and Satoru drags his feet a bit as he wanders over and sits next to her.

“You don’t need to be told that either,” He muses.

He rests his palms behind him as he lets himself get comfortable in her space. When they still lived in dorms, he spent just as much time in her room as he did his own. Now that he thinks about it, he was probably in hers much more than anyone else’s. It hadn’t seemed weird back then, but now, it feels personal. Intimate. He wonders if she feels that way, or if the invitation into her most private space had been extended without a second thought. Satoru pulls the shades off his face and tosses them to the side, between the two of them.

“They know you love them, too. Always have,” He reassures her. “You’ve done right by them. You gotta know that”

(y/n) tilts her head back against the covers, peering up at him from under heavy eyelids as he gazes down at her fondly. Her room is only lit by the hallway light that’s peeking in through the crack in her not-quite-closed door, and the soft yellow hue paints over his face in a way that somehow makes him more alluring. Her lowered defenses had her eyes wandering his features longer than she would have had her sober mind worked correctly and reminded her to shut down that curiosity.

That is, she stares at him until the heat in her face and the rapid beating of her heart overstimulates her and she makes herself look away before she says or does something she might regret.

When she does break her long stare, her eyes land on the familiar round shades that happen to be in arm’s reach, and she grabs them and pulls them over her face without a second thought.

Without permission, her mind wanders off to wonder what would’ve happened between them had they gone on that date all those months ago before they graduated.

It’s harder to make out her face with his oversized sunglasses covering her eyes, but Satoru can see her lips tug into a frown. He’s about to ask her what’s on her mind when she speaks first.

“Would you stay the night?”

Her fingers are wound into the soft fabric of her covers, fisting it tightly as though it kept her anchored.

“Shoko’s in your spare room already,” He chuckles as he reminds her. “And she’s hogging the whole bed. I think if I wake her up she’ll mur-”

“You can stay in here,” She’s mumbling, half incoherently, but he hears her just fine. “Like… before” She adds as an afterthought.

He can’t deny the way his heart lurches in his chest at the offer, and the reminder. The nights he spent sneaking into her dorm to coax her into at least a few hours of sleep, until she’d learned again how to sleep through a night on her own, he’d hold onto forever. He’d sworn to commit them to memory. The way she’d melt into his arms, as though she’d only know comfort and solace when embraced by them. The way she felt against him, against his chest, with her legs wrapped around his, with her face in the crook of his neck, with her hands gripping onto his shirt for dear life, with her heart beating against his. Satoru had overindulged himself back then, he’d gotten too much of a taste of what domesticity with her could feel like. Now he craved it, he desperately yearned for it.

The last time they’d even slept in the same room had been the night before their meeting with the Zen’in Clan. And she’d been far from him, curled up on the floor with that damned letter in her hands. Satoru wondered now if she still had it. He wondered if she still slept clutching onto something. He wondered if she was able to sleep soundly without him now.

He’s sure that he shouldn’t dip even a finger back into this addiction. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to stand it when she inevitably tells him this is the last time, and pushes him away, again.

Just like she had done when he’d tried to make them something more.

It’s just one assignment, sweetheart, he’d told her over the phone, knowing fully well that she was all done up on the other end, waiting for him to pick her up at their agreed upon time. We’ll rain check, promise.

She’d taken in a shaky breath, he could hear it even through the phone, even with the downpour of rain in Yokohama. He always wondered if she’d cried that day, over him, over the failed attempt at a date, over his failure at showing up for her.

I don’t think it’s a good idea, ‘toru, she’d spoken as evenly as she could, even though it made her voice quieter.

How ‘bout tomorrow, hm? You can pick the place this time, anywhere you want, s’on me- He’d tried to convince her before she could put an end to this thing before it’d even started- hell, they’d barely even had a chance, hadn’t they?

But her mind had already been made up. And with a breaking heart, she’d shut him down.

I don’t just mean tonight, she’d said. I don’t think this is a good idea.

God, he should’ve just stood his ground to the higher ups like he usually did and made someone else take on this stupid assignment. He wanted to blame them for ruining his one perfect chance with this girl, but at the end of the day, he’d let her decide. He let her be the one to end it before it really began.

I just… I just need to think about the kids right now, she’d sighed through her words. As far as excuses go, it wasn’t necessarily a bad one. They need to come first to me and… and your future should come first to you, too.

He should’ve called bullshit. He knows that now. He shouldn't have sat there and agreed with her because he didn’t want them to fight. Fuck. He should’ve argued, even if it had meant fighting with her. As long as it also meant he could’ve seen what she’d chosen to wear for their date, how she’d done her hair, her makeup, then it would’ve been worth it.

I know you’re favored far more over me, but we’ll both always have assignments, she’d explained it like he didn’t already know what this chapter of their lives would look like. Then again, he’d sat there in silence and let her pour out reason after reason as to why they couldn’t do this.

Satoru still wasn’t sure if it was him she was trying to convince that day.

And I… and I wouldn’t forgive myself if things didn’t… work… you know? She’d finished shakily, nervously. For the kids’ sake, Satoru, she’d told him. For your sake. For my sake.

He’d agreed. He’d stupidly agreed. They never talked about it again after that phone call. For the most part, nothing had changed.

Except that first time he’d seen her afterwards. She had a hard time looking at him, and shifted her weight between her feet when he stood too close. But over time they got back into the groove of their friendship. He remained abundantly affectionate, and she remained oblivious to the less-than obvious advances.

It was a surprise to him now that she was blurring the lines between them- the lines she’d drawn. Would it be reckless of him to indulge once more? Would it be painful in the morning when she shooed him away before anyone could know he stayed here, with her?

Probably.

But what he says is, “Yeah, if you’re sure”

He does manage to convince her into changing into the comfiest pair of pajamas she could find, so that when she woke it was one less discomfort added to the long list of grievances her hangover would have in store. Somehow, he gets her to put on a change of clothes and brush her teeth before she’s crawling into her bed with a lazy smile. It’s almost three in the morning at this point, but worrying about the time is far from Satoru’s mind as she settles into his side like it was still second nature.

Long after she’d dozed off tucked under his arm, he laid there awake, wondering how different things could have been, had he plucked up the courage to say no. To say this will work, because we want it to work, because I want it to work, because I’ve wanted nothing but to be yours.

But tonight, the only one in this apartment with any guts is Megumi. Only Megumi was strong enough to articulate how he felt with those special little words that were too heavy for Satoru’s tongue.

With bags under his eyes and sluggish muscles Satoru gets out of bed as soon as he awakes to make breakfast for the full house. Megumi and Tsumiki are up first, eager for the breakfast buffet Satoru had managed to give them without the smoke alarm going off. Shoko drags herself out to the kitchen not too long after, downing a full cup of water before bidding them good morning and snagging some of the potatoes before Tsumiki could dump them all on her plate.

Satoru and Shoko tell unflattering stories about (y/n) with great excitement for gossip to the kids while their missing caretaker slept in as late as possible. Satoru had made sure to bring a cold face mask to her every fifteen minutes or so to keep her headache at bay and hopefully let her sleep as long as she could. Once she awoke she was in for a world of hurt. Each time Satoru left the kitchen to do this for her, Shoko turned to the kids with a knowing look and a snicker.

“They were in love in school you know,” She indulged in a more interesting piece of gossip during one of these times.

Tsumiki’s eyes widened as she grinned. Megumi’s brows furrowed as he pressed his lips together tightly.

“He’d follow her around like a lost puppy, it was hilarious” Shoko shoved a forkful of carbs into her mouth with a fond smile at the memories of lovesick Satoru.

“He still does that” Megumi mumbles, staring down at the remainder of food on his plate.

Shoko beamed with her cheeks full, not at all surprised by the behavior, but endeared to know it hadn’t worn off in time. Satoru had changed a lot in the last six months, although some might have a hard time noticing, those close to him could see the heaviness he carried on his shoulders with little mannerisms and micro expressions that even he might be convinced aren’t there. To Shoko and (y/n), who knew the boy like the back of their hand, it was clear.

However she should’ve known that the feelings he’d held for (y/n) since they were fifteen weren’t the kind of feelings that could be worn away.

Satoru’s back in the kitchen attempting to make pancakes in the fun shapes that (y/n) does, desperate to impress everyone- mostly Megumi- but they come out a little more lumpy than hers do. He complains about it the whole time. Megumi and Shoko are indifferent. Tsumiki reassures him that they’re delicious, like the sweetheart she was.

(y/n) joins them for a brief minute, dragging her feet, and a blanket, into the kitchen on a journey to get a big cup of ice water. The plastic face mask that Satoru had just brought her was velcroed around her head, although loosely, as half of it stayed on her forehead and the other half slipped over one of her eyes. She made no efforts to fix it.

Shoko’s giggling with great amusement at the state of her lightweight friend. The blanket cape, the messy hair, the smeared mascara on her exposed eye, it was all too humorous. She started to pull her phone out to take a picture, but knowing what she was up to, Satoru snatched the device and pocketed it discreetly. He gave her a sour look, to which she rolled her eyes and went back to breakfast.

He’d fussed over her right away, asking what she was doing up, that he could’ve brought her anything she needed and that she should’ve just hollered. The three at the table watch as he adjusts her mask for her, reattaching the velcro to fit her snugly, keeping the cool parts of the gel-filled plastic against her throbbing forehead.

Shoko cackles not-so-discreetly behind her hand when he asks her if she was alright for a fourth time. After a solid minute of insisting that he’d get everything for her, she shuffles back to the comfort of her dark room.

Satoru is quick to fill a cup to the brim with ice and then water, and rather than walk the ten feet to her door, he teleports it to her. Shoko rolls her eyes and shares a smile with Tsumiki.

“Yeah, nothing’s changed”

It takes a few hours for (y/n) to feel rejuvenated enough to take a shower and join the group lazing around the living room. Shoko had stayed for the day, so Satoru insisted they take turns picking movies. (y/n) appears like a woman brought back to life halfway through the second film. Satoru and Shoko cheer for her revival as she plops on the couch between Tsumiki and Satoru.

“Can we give you your present now?” Tsumiki asks, to which (y/n) eagerly accepts, so she and her brother rush out of the room to retrieve it.

With the kids gone, Shoko can finally give her friends the interrogation she’d been dying to all morning.

“So, you still sleep together, huh?” She raises a curious eyebrow.

(y/n) sighs, dropping her head back against the couch cushion, still feeling too light headed for this conversation. Satoru doesn’t say anything either, though (y/n) can’t tell if he’s avoiding the conversation, or just didn’t know how to explain himself. It doesn’t matter, Shoko doesn’t have any more questions, and shortly after, the Fushiguro kids are running into the room again.

They each have a hand on the brightly colored gift bag as they hand it to her. (y/n) beams at their excitement as she eyes all of the tissue paper they’d stuffed into the bag.

“You help with this?” She muses to Satoru, who shakes his head, looking just as curious as she was.

“We did it all ourselves!” Tsumiki said with a proud grin.

(y/n) pulls out wad after wad of tissue, placing them all on the coffee table as she digs for her gift. When she finally does get to the bottom of the bag, her lips morph into an ‘o’ as she lifts the piece of art out from the bag.

Shoko’s eyes widen, and Satoru begins to laugh while (y/n) carefully holds the small clay sculpture in her hands. It couldn’t have been bigger than her hand, but the details were made of delicate pieces of clay, and she worried that if she didn’t handle it with care, it could crumble at her touch.

It was two blades, intersecting to make a perfect X. The handles sculpted and painted to look quite familiar.

“It’s your swords!” Tsumiki cheered, holding her hands to her face to contain her excitement.

“Wow, this is amazing,” (y/n) admired the sculpture further, taking note of every detail, from blade to hilt, it was a damn good replica. “You both made this?”

Tsumiki and Megumi each nodded.

“Tsumiki did the clay, I painted it” Megumi explained.

“We got extra credit in our art classes for it too!”

Satoru’s laughter grew louder, and (y/n’s) eyes widened with realization as she looked back at the kids.

“You… you made this in school?” She asked, trying not to wince. “Did you… get in trouble?”

Sure, the piece was perfect, and their collaboration did deserve some bonus points, but had no administrator gotten upset that an eight and ten year old made a weapon for their art project?

“I told our art teacher it was from an anime character” Megumi said sheepishly. (y/n’s) posture relaxed with her relief.

“Smart call,” She chuckles, before setting it down and reaching out to them both to pull them into a hug. “Thank you. I love it. I love that you made it together”

She sets it on a shelf in the living room with a few other pieces of art and picture frames, making sure to have it be front and center. Throughout the rest of the movie watching day, her eyes keep wandering to it, wanting to admire the thoughtful craft a little longer. _

Over the next few months, Megumi had been pouting a lot more often.

(y/n) wasn’t sure what it was. She and Satoru would make his favorite meal for dinner, and he would eat it with a bored expression. Even with a trip to the library, more practice with his Divine Dogs, extending his bed time for reading purposes only, the boy just seemed to be in a bitter rut.

At first she was worried for him, but Tsumiki had confirmed that nothing was happening at school, he wasn’t being picked on, and his grades, as always, were exceptional. (y/n) didn’t know what that could possibly leave.

“I just don’t get it,” She huffed as she slumped down into the couch beside Satoru, who had been spending most of his free time at the apartment now. Some nights he even stayed over, but he always took the guest room.

The night of (y/n’s) birthday had proven to be too much for him. So when she offered him to stay the night, he made a beeline for the spare bed. (y/n) never pushed him on it. But sometimes when they parted ways in the hall, she’d stare at the back of his head, and wonder if he could tell that she’d rather he stayed with her.

Satoru is also caved into the couch cushions, legs spread out wide before him and his arms crossed over his chest. He looked tired. He’d spent the whole evening giving Megumi tips and tricks to summoning and befriending his shikigami, hoping to lift the boy’s mood, and maybe score some brownie points, but to no avail. The boy seemed to have more of an attitude with him than usual, and Satoru wasn’t the best with kids, so he’d given up, and pushed the responsibility back onto (y/n). Megumi had less of an attitude with her, but his annoyance was still noticeable.

“Do you think we did something?” She mumbles, turning to Satoru with wide, worried eyes, and pinched brows. Then, she scoots closer to him, until they’re sharing one of the cushions. He doesn’t flinch at her closeness, unless you count the small hitch in his breath. “Do you think I did something?” She rephrases her question in an even more haunted whisper.

“No, no of course not,” He shakes his head at her, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head. “He’s a kid. Kids are just jerks sometimes”

“He is not a jerk,” (y/n) says with narrowed eyes. Satoru shrugs back at her, tilting his lips into a smirk. “But… he is a kid. I guess he could just be… acting out”

“I acted out all the time when I was his age” Satoru nods as he starts to understand some of Megumi’s behavior.

(y/n) rolled her eyes at him.

“You still act out,” She says, and he wants to act offended when he turns to her again, but it’s too cute when she’s pretending to be annoyed with him, so he finds himself smiling at her, almost proudly. “You’re the jerk, you know”

“Me?” He holds a hand over his chest, and she giggles quietly to herself at the act. “You break my heart, Little Hex”

Again she rolls her eyes as she leans her head back into the couch cushion, letting out her frustration and exhaustion from the day in a quiet sigh. It had been a while since Satoru had called her that, a nickname he’d coined back in high school. She could still remember the first time he called her that, with that saccharine smile and shining eyes, like he was waiting for a reaction. Boy, did he get one. Somehow with his predictable flirtations, he still managed to make her blush and fluster. Even now, she felt her face warm at the fond nickname.

“You’ll get over it, Gojo,” She muses in response, letting her eyes fall shut. “Hey…” She starts to speak again, but trails off, and her eyes are still closed when he looks over at her to give her his attention.

“Hm?”

“Do you think… he misses his dad?”

The question hangs between them for a minute. (y/n) gnaws on her cheek as her eyes glaze over, getting lost in her messy trains of thoughts that were all beginning to collide. It was no secret that Megumi held a resentment towards his father, more so than his sister, but (y/n) couldn’t help but wonder if a part of him, the part that was growing up, was starting to feel hurt by the space Fushiguro Toji had left behind.

“He might,” Satoru answers honestly, quietly. (y/n’s) brows fall as her lips tug into a frown. Of all the things she could fix, all the questions she could answer, that was one thing she had no control over. “It’s probably complicated. He might not think he does, you know?”

(y/n) nods absentmindedly, her teeth digging into her bottom lip now as she worries for the young boy.

What was she supposed to do? All the love and support in the world wouldn’t make up for the man that was supposed to look out for them walking out. His mother was one thing, he couldn’t even remember her. But he had a face to his father’s name. He had memories. Maybe even love that he’d buried. The thought makes her stomach twist with guilt.

“I barely remember my parents,” She whispers, and despite the fact that she’s staring at the ceiling with a hardened, fixed gaze, Satoru turns to her when she says this. “They’re not gone… but they may as well be. After I was enrolled at Jujutsu Tech…”

She didn’t need to explain any further. Satoru already knew the heartbreak she’d gone through as a young child, having non-sorcerers for parents that looked down upon jujutsu society. She’d shared her story with him once, when they were no older than fifteen, and Satoru was certain he’d never shake a single detail out of his memory. She held the same look in her eye now that she did back then as she recalled how she’d been shunned for not following a more ‘honorable’ path.

It wasn’t often she thought of her family- she hardly considered those people family anyways- but now they cross her mind as she empathizes with Megumi.

“It’s not the same, I know,” She sighs, shaking her head as though to erase their faces like an etch-a-sketch. Even after all these years, she hasn’t quite forgotten them. “But… losing family at a young age sticks with you,”

Finally, she turns her head to one side, meeting his watchful stare.

“Whether you want it to or not”

Satoru frowned.

“Missing people is hard like that,” He sighs.

Neither one of them have the strength to talk about him though, so he glides over the topic and brings their focus back to Megumi.

“But he’s still a little kid. You give him a lot of credit for being so mature, it’s spooky, but he’s going to process things like a little kid,” He reminds her. “You’re not doing anything wrong. Neither is he. He’s just…”

“Processing” (y/n) mumbles softly.

He nods back at her, bringing his elbow to the top of the couch so he could prop his head in his hand.

“Have you ever…” Satoru trails off, deciding mid sentence if it was a good idea to ask her this question. She waits patiently for him to continue, in need of any kind of advice on the situation. “Have you ever thought about opening up to him? You know like… relating to him?”

She blinks, but the rest of her expression doesn’t change. Not a single movement. Satoru thinks he might have suggested the wrong thing, but before he can take it back, she gives him a small smile.

“You know, that’s actually not a bad idea,” She hums, and she can see he’s shocked that she thought so. “You’re almost getting decent at this parenting thing”

He chuckles, dropping his hand from his head to stretch his arm across the length of the couch, beckoning her to come closer. She huffs in defiance, but doesn’t have any further protest as she slides closer to him, until their legs are pressed together and her head leans into his shoulder.

“I’m learning from the best” He chuckles like it’s a tease, but his words couldn’t have been more genuine.

It took some time for (y/n) to approach the subject with the boy.

But it was one night while they were walking home late together that just felt like the right time. It was just the two of them, (y/n) had brought him to a secluded place in the woods they found where it was safe for him to practice summoning his shikigami, while Satoru stayed at the apartment with Tsumiki.

It was late, the sun had gone down an hour ago, and the streets had cleared enough to give them a bit of privacy as they made their way back to the apartment.

So she figured, here goes nothing.

“Has something been bothering you, Megumi?”

At first he drops his head, staring down at the sidewalk as he mulled over the question. If (y/n) focused enough, she could see the gears in his head turning, weighing his options, the pros and cons, thinking through the possibilities of where this conversation could go. Had she not been worried about him, she might have giggled at how cutely the eight year old processed any question asked of him.

“You don’t need me to remind you that you can tell me anything,” She tells him honestly, glancing up at the stars beginning to shine through the night sky. “You’re allowed to be upset about things, you know”

“I know” He finally mumbles out, kicking a stray pebble in his path.

On uneven edges, it rolls awkwardly onto (y/n’s) side of the path. She gently kicks it back to his side. They play this little game in silence for a few minutes, until Megumi kicks it with too much enthusiasm and it’s sent into the storm drain. Teasingly, (y/n) tells him she’s won.

“I feel bad for being upset”

She looks down at him upon this confession, tilting her head curiously, wondering what it could be that he’s been carrying that’s making him feel so lost.

“That happens sometimes,” She treads lightly. “As long as you know that you shouldn’t. You can’t help what you feel, you know”

Megumi sighs, his shoulders slumping forward with a restlessness he was far too young to feel.

“I guess,” He replies, because he knows she’s right. Still, it was hard to be comforted when there was a loom of guilt hanging over his head like a storm cloud. “I don’t think I like love”

(y/n) hums as she takes in the statement. It was heavier than he’d realized, and it took her a minute to really think about it, about what he must be feeling. She had a sneaking suspicion that this was about his father, after all.

“Love is complicated, isn’t it,” She sighs, and it’s not a question, moreso a statement of fact. Megumi doesn’t say anything. “The world will tell you it’s unconditional. When in fact… people don’t work like that, do they?”

He looks up at her, his eyes round with shock, like she’d told him a great secret that he shouldn’t have been allowed to hear. Santa isn’t real, or this is all a simulation.

“Individual people are so different, and they’re meant to be, aren’t they?” This time she waits for his response, but Megumi can only muster up a nod. She takes it. “Everyone has their standards, their conditions. Even you, right?”

“I don’t like it when people are mean for no reason” Megumi comments, and (y/n) smiles as she nods at him, affirming that he understood what she was saying.

“Exactly,” She muses. “It’s just… some people’s conditions… well, they’re unreachable. Impossible. Sometimes they’re outright dumb”

Honestly, Megumi’s not sure where this little rant is coming from, but he finds himself hanging onto her every word anyways. It intrigued him, the way she described love. He’d never heard someone speak about it with such… distaste.

Usually adults tried to tell him that love is the ultimate happiness. Romantic love, familial love, platonic love, whatever it may be. He was always reminded that love was powerful, beautiful, transcendent. To hear (y/n) speak of it now like it was a trick to be wary of was confusing to him, but he was intent on learning more.

“I’ve never talked to you about my family, have I?” She asks, and again, it’s less of a question, and more of a prompt, a catch for him to realize that no, she’d never mentioned anything about a family. She only ever spoke of her classmates and colleagues at Jujutsu Tech.

Megumi shakes his head, feeling his guilt hovering over his head again as he realizes he’d never even thought to ask about the subject.

“Well, there’s a reason,” (y/n) says, easing some of his anxiety. “They had conditions to their love. Ones that I couldn’t meet. Or, refused to, is more like it”

“Really?” Megumi’s eyes widened with surprise.

“Yep,” She affirmed. “They didn’t want me to be a jujutsu sorcerer”

Now he looked like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. His mouth dropped open and his eyes grew impossibly bigger.

“Why?”

“They weren’t gifted like you and me,” She explains. “They were non-sorcerers, had never even heard of jujutsu society. So you can imagine their surprise when their kid started teleporting all around the house. I was a handful, you know,”

Megumi lets out a little giggle at the idea, and (y/n) smiles warmly that he’s starting to break down the walls he’d been building up around him in his seclusion.

“I was no older than you when my cursed technique manifested,” She tells him. “And it wasn’t long until someone from the school found me”

“Just like you came to us?” Megumi asked.

(y/n) tilted her head from side to side.

“It was a bit different,” She admitted. “They wanted to enroll me at the school, train me to properly hone my technique, teach me about the real world of jujutsu, it was a big ask. A big change”

“But your parents didn’t want you to go?” Megumi’s brows furrowed.

(y/n) nodded down at him.

“They forbid it”

The boy shook his head, trying to understand, but he was struggling, too puzzled by this story.

“But, why?” He asked. “Jujutsu sorcerers are good! You have cool powers- that- that can help people,” He looked up at her with his face contorted by his confusion. “Why didn’t they understand?”

(y/n) gives him a sad smile. She’d asked herself that same question for years after she’d left her home in pursuit of something greater than it, greater than her.

She looks forward as they continue their walk, not too far from the apartment building now.

“They were so worried about losing their kid, that they didn’t think about the damage they’d do by keeping them from following their passion,” She told him the truth, as harsh as it sounded. “And they ended up losing me anyways”

It’s quiet for a few beats, until Megumi let out a soft, “Oh”

“Megumi,” (y/n) calls, reaching down for his hand.

He lets her grasp onto it. They stop in their tracks, and he turns to face her. She still has that small, sad smile on her face. He recognizes this smile. She wears it when she’s trying to make him feel better, when she’s trying to convince someone, or herself, that things are alright. He’s seen this smile so many times now that he wishes she would just frown, but he knows she won’t. He knows that until the day she leaves this earth she’s going to be the strong one, the one that protects them, no matter the cost. He’d learned this shortly after meeting her, but he didn’t come to really understand it until the day he was almost taken away from her, and from his sister.

Megumi is a child. And while (y/n) had grown older in age, and quite a bit in maturity, she really wasn’t that much older than him, in the grand scheme of things. She’d given up more than just a summer vacation after graduating in order to take in him and his sister. She’d never talk about it, but Megumi has picked up on the fact that if she wasn’t so busy playing caretaker, then she would have been able to pursue more of her real passion, exorcizing curses. Sure, she still took plenty of assignments, but it was hard to take the big ones overseas, or the higher grade curses, because she couldn’t leave the two of them alone for too long.

(y/n) crouches before him now, his hand still in hers, and that melancholic smile still present on her lips.

“I believe that your dad loved you, so, so much,”

His brows furrowed together. My dad? He thought to himself, as if the words didn’t translate to his language, as if he couldn’t quite remember what they meant, or who they referred to.

“I believe that he did the things he did because he wanted to do what he could for you. I know it doesn’t make sense now… and honestly it might never make sense. But I think he was trying to do right by you both he just…”

She trails off, and for a split second, that false smile falters, and falls into a sad expression that he’d rarely gotten to see on her. Something snags in Megumi’s chest, an uneven beat of his heart, a pain in his ribs he wasn’t familiar with.

“He just didn’t know how,” She finishes softly, and just as quickly she’s crafting her face to be gentle and comforting again. “But I’m sorry that he’s not here”

Megumi tilts his head at her curiously, trying to speculate on what it was to make her say these things to him.

“That’s okay,” He says in a tone that has (y/n) feeling a bit confused too. Her hand loosens around his, and he pulls away, about to continue their walk. She quickly stands to walk beside him. “I don’t really think about him anyways”

“You don’t?” She asks. Megumi shakes his head.

“No, he doesn’t really matter, does he?”

Wow, (y/n) thinks. What an emotionally mature child. But if it wasn’t his absent-now-dead father bugging him, what had been on his mind?

“Hey (y/n),” Megumi calls before she can ask him her question, and she gives him her attention. “What are your conditions?”

“My conditions?” She repeats, although she knows what he means.

“Yeah” Megumi replies in a small voice.

“Silly kid,” She giggles and ruffles his hair, much to his annoyance, but he doesn’t swat her hand away, just glares at her as he fixes the messy raven locks. “I’m the exception to the rule of course. I have no conditions when it comes to loving you two”

“Corny,” He mutters with fake malice. “But what about Gojo, then?”

With a raised brow, (y/n) looks down at the boy, waiting for him to complete the question. Megumi just stared up at her expectantly, his head cocked towards one shoulder.

“What about Gojo?” She repeats with a tilted inflection, wondering what he was getting at.

Megumi huffs with more annoyance than she could’ve thought his little body was capable of holding.

“Well, don’t you love each other?” He asks, exasperated, like he’d been holding onto this fact for too long, like it was heavy, and he was tired of lugging it around. “Isn’t that why he’s around all the time? Isn’t that why he never leaves anymore?”

(y/n’s) lips part in surprise, ready to say something, anything to deflect, or excuse, but she can’t think of a decent enough argument, and she finds herself remaining in silence as they approach their building.

“He’s so obnoxious,” Megumi continues, and (y/n) watches him with a strange curiosity as he goes on to speak. “He’s loud. And annoying. And too touchy,”

She chuckles fondly to herself, as she couldn’t help but agree with all of Megumi’s grievances with the man. Of course these were all traits she’d found some way to appreciate.

He was loud, but he spoke up for others, and had he not done so on her behalf, she might not be here with Megumi now. He was annoying, but he made it known that he enjoyed spending time around her, and he’d remember all of the things she said she liked or disliked. He was touchy, but it was just the way he showed affection, every touch, whether it be to hug her goodbye, to pull her to sit closer to him, to comb her hair with his fingers so she could fall asleep peacefully, it all just meant that he cared.

Thinking about it now, her face began to heat up, and her heart began to beat erratically in her chest. Had Megumi figured it out for her? Had she really grown to love all of those things?

“He doesn’t ever stop talking about you,” Megumi goes on, drawing her out of her thoughts and back to his rant. “Especially when you’re not around. He just goes on and on. About high school, about how cool you are, how pretty you are, how strong you are,”

Despite his irritation, Megumi’s cheeks begin to burn too, a little embarrassed to be passing this information on.

“And when he makes my lunches, even his notes are about you. And they’re stupid. But he’s stupid,” He rolls his eyes between complaints.

(y/n) thinks back to the little post-it she’d snagged from his lunch box a few months ago. There had been others? She was curious now about what they said. Did he do it every time he made their lunch?

“And Shoko said you were in love once,”

Her attention returns to the boy again, eyes round and lips still parted, still waiting to say something that wasn’t coming to mind. Shoko said that?

“Are you not anymore?”

He looks up at her just as they approach the front doors to their building. (y/n) swallows the lump in her throat as she pushes it open, letting him inside first. The warm air in the lobby is welcoming, and she pops open the buttons to the light jacket she’d worn to help keep warm during the chilly fall night.

Megumi was still staring at her as they made their way through the lobby to wait for the elevator. She knows he was expecting an answer, a real one, but truth be told, (y/n) wasn’t sure what the answer even was.

“We were young,” She sighs out eventually, shaking her head as she struggles to come up with the rest. “Did we have feelings for each other? Maybe, but I don’t know about love. We were close friends. Still are”

She thinks this is a good answer. It’s the truth, and it’s enough of an explanation to quell Megumi’s curiosities. She thought wrong.

“Well, what about now?” He asks, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets.

“You’re nosey tonight,” (y/n) chuckles, trying to nonchalantly brush him off and leave their conversation at that. But Megumi continues to stare at her with furrowed brows. “What?” She laughs nervously at him, raising her hands in mock defense. “What more is there to say?”

“Shoko said you were in love,” He deadpans, and (y/n) makes a mental note to cuss out her friend for gossiping with literal children about her love life- or more accurately, lack thereof. “So what was the condition that you don’t anymore?”

“I never said I didn’t-”

“So you do?”

They stare at each other in silence.

There’s a ding! And the elevator doors before them slide open.

(y/n) ushers Megumi in without a word, and he excitedly pushes the button for their floor. (y/n) crosses her arms as the doors close again. Her foot taps anxiously on the floor.

“Is this why you’ve been upset lately?” She finally speaks as the elevator begins to move. Megumi looks up at her, but her eyes remain focused on the changing numbers on the panel as they pass each floor. “Satoru’s been around more and you don’t like him?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like him,” Megumi mutters, annoyed at having to admit such a thing. (y/n) lets out a small chuckle. “He’s just annoying. I don’t know why you do,” He explains. “You’re cooler than him” He adds in a smaller, more bashful voice.

“Can’t argue there,” (y/n) hums in amusement, smiling down at him fondly. “But you don’t have anything to worry about, ‘gumi,” She says, and seeing as he’s trapped in the small space, when she reaches down and snatches him up with the excitement of finding a stray toad on her path- he can’t do anything but squeal and thrash his arms in protest. “You’re the only one for me, Fushiguro Megumi!” She cheers in a loud, lovesick manner.

The elevator doors open, allowing anyone on their floor to hear the boy’s screams of torture and giggles of delight when (y/n) tosses him over her shoulder to tickle him relentlessly.

“(y/n)!” He screams her name in choked up pleas of mercy. “Stoooop!”

His hollers fell on deaf ears as (y/n) cackled the whole way to the door. She didn’t let up until she had to fish for the keys in her pocket. Megumi huffed, hanging limply over her back, panting as he caught his breath, his laughter finally dying down.

“You’re a jerk” He muttered in defeat.

(y/n) cackled as she got the door open, and Megumi’s body was practically swinging behind her back as she hauled him inside.

Much to the delight of Satoru and Tsumiki, who had been sitting at the kitchen table, having a little spa day.

So while they were laughing at Megumi’s distress, (y/n) was laughing at the sight of Satoru with a big fluffy pink headband, the one Tsumiki used for the couple of times that (y/n) would let her do face masks with her.

His hair stuck out in every direction under the big bow on top, and there was a green substance smeared all over his face that (y/n) could only hope was from the rejuvenating face mask tube that she kept with her things in the bathroom. And better than that- Tsumiki was halfway through painting his names. He had one hand flat on the table, the polish still drying, while the ten year old held his other hand to carefully apply the color.

“Oh my god,” (y/n) couldn’t help the string of giggles that escaped her, and she finally set Megumi back on the ground so that he could also appreaciate the entertainment. “You girls have a nice day to yourselves?”

“Yeah!” Tsumiki cheered. “We watched a romance anime and Gojo’s letting me paint his nails and we were talking about boys and we’re doing face masks!”

(y/n’s) still laughing as she kicks off her shoes, before neatly setting them on the small rack by the door with the other smaller pairs of shoes. She shrugs off her coat and drapes it over the couch before making her way further into the room so she could see what color Tsumiki had chosen for Satoru’s manicure.

“She said we were doing facemasks,” Satoru deadpans as (y/n) peers over the girl’s shoulder. “But she chickened out”

“Did not!” Tsumiki argued. “I just only have one headband. I didn’t want to get any in my hair”

(y/n) continues to giggle when she finally gets a look at Satoru’s hands. Tsumiki had all of her polishes on the table, so each finger was a different color. Mostly variations of pink and purple, but there was one green and one blue in there too. When she meets his gaze, he’s silently pleading with her, but her mouth twists into a grin that tells him she was not here to bring him to a merciful end.

“Very good job you’ve done here, Tsumiki,” She praises the girl instead. “Satoru has never looked prettier!”

He should’ve rolled his eyes and quipped back some sarcastic remark, but Tsumiki was finally painting his last fingernail and it would all be over soon. So instead he grins from ear to ear, taking her half-insult as a compliment.

“Why thank you, (y/n/n). Finally, I’m appreciated for my beauty”

(y/n’s) the one who rolls her eyes.

Once Tsumiki applies the last stroke of glittery pink polish on Satoru’s pinky nail, (y/n) tasks her with cleaning up the mess on the table. It appears she’d been ready to give the man a full makeover, looking at all the makeup, nail polish, and hair supplies littered over the surface.

“Come on pretty girl, I’ll get the mask cleaned off your face,” (y/n) beckons for Satoru to follow her towards the bathroom. “We can’t have you ruining your pretty manicure” She snickers as the pair disappear down the hall.

Megumi helped his sister gather her things back into the boxes she kept them neatly organized in.

“How did it go with your dogs?” She asked curiously.

“Good,” He answers. “(y/n) is in love with Gojo”

His sister stares back at him with wide eyes, and a slow grin creeping over her face.

Meanwhile, (y/n) is sitting Satoru down on the lid of the toilet while the sink water runs until it’s warm enough that it won’t be a shock to his skin. Once it’s ready, she wets a corner of a washcloth and carefully begins to wipe off the creamy face mask.

“I can’t believe you let her do this” She murmurs, bringing the rag back under the running water to rinse away the excess paste.

“(y/n), as a dear friend, I need you to be honest with me,” He says, and her eyes lock on his, her hand stalling in it’s ministrations, holding the rag to his brow as she gives him her undivided attention. His expression looks grave. “Is this going to absolutely fuck up my pores?”

His eyes are wide like he’s never been more afraid of anything in his life, and (y/n) can’t help but burst into laughter as she goes back to cleaning away the cream on his forehead.

“Well, it shouldn’t,” She says, and Satoru visibly relaxes. “But I don’t know what she was thinking putting so much on your face”

“Maybe she just wanted to be close because I’m so devilishly handsome” He smirks up at her, and she lets out another laugh, turning back to the sink again to rinse the rag.

“I think she just wanted to play dress up with you” (y/n) mused.

“I think she just wanted to have girl talk,” Satoru replied. “Which apparently I’m quite good at. If you’re ever interested”

Another giggle escapes her as she gets to work cleaning away the cream on his cheek, being careful as she drags the rag slowly under his eye. She’s focused on her work, but Satoru can’t draw his attention away from her. He couldn’t remember the last time she stood so close to him, and right now her face hovered just a few inches away from his.

It was hard to keep his hands firmly planted on his knees, and not hold her by the waist and draw her into the space between them. But then he’d ruin his manicure.

“I didn’t realize she was getting so interested in boys,” She hums thoughtfully. “Any juicy details?”

“Not really,” Satoru shrugs. “I told her to start playing hard to get if she really wants to get someone’s attention. She said she didn’t want their attention. She just likes making friends with the cute boys in her class”

(y/n) laughs softly and shakes her head, but she can’t help but smile proudly to herself.

“That’s my girl,” She praises, even though Tsumiki wasn’t present. “She doesn’t need boys right now. She’s doing great in her classes”

Satoru shrugs a shoulder.

“You enjoy girl talk, hm?” She asks.

Admittedly, she could have cleaned his face of all this face mask cream by now, but she couldn’t help her slow movements. The longer she dragged this on, the longer she could stand right in front of him and stare at his pretty features. Her conversation with Megumi was still on the front of her mind, and while she’d brushed off the boy’s questions about her feelings minutes ago, standing before Satoru now, she wasn’t so sure she could deny them.

She’d known for a long time that she harbored strong feelings for him. While at first she’d squashed them down because she refused to admit she’d fallen for an arrogant fool like him, over time, she’d come to understand him better, and soon he’d become one of the greatest people she’s ever known, and she wasn’t so sure she’d ever meet anyone like him again.

But things got messy. She got involved with the Fushiguro’s, [redacted] defected, and now that they’ve graduated and are trying to lead their own lives, it just got too complicated.

It didn’t help that when he’d tried to take things to a more than platonic level, she’d shot it down as soon as things got tricky. As soon as he got called into an assignment the night they were going to go out, she’d closed herself back up, rebuilt the wall around her, and told him it was never going to work, so they may as well never try.

She’d done the right thing, right?

Trying not to stare too long at him now, she wasn’t so sure.

“Oh, I quite love girl talk,” Satoru grinned. “No wonder you and Shoko always snuck off. Hey, you ever talk about me?” His grin turns into a smirk as his bright eyes try to catch hers. She pretends to be too focused on clearing the green goop off his nose.

“Only when I needed to complain,” She muses affectionately. “I’m sorry to say most of our gossip involved Ijichi”

“That kid that’s a manager?” He asked with a furrowed brow. “That’s your type?”

He sounded annoyed, and confused. (y/n) chuckled, turning back towards the sink for another rinse.

“No,” She shakes her head, and Satoru readjusts his posture, sitting up a little straighter with his confidence returned. “But he was always smitten with Shoko. I think eventually he was so into her she couldn’t help but take an interest in him, too,”

Satoru nods, pursing his lips as he thinks back on it. There were a few times that she’d blown off plans to twirl her hair at the younger boy. He’d always thought she was just messing with him, now he wonders if anything ever came of it.

“I think they hooked up a couple times,” (y/n) indulged in a quieter voice, her eyes meeting his with a curious excitement he hadn’t seen in a while. “She never admitted it. But I’ve seen the hickeys. That’s all I’m saying”

Satoru laughed with delight. He really did enjoy girl talk. He also enjoyed seeing (y/n) this happy.

“Well geez. I guess I’ll have to hit her up on that. What’s she got on you, huh?”

Her brows pinched together as a scoff of a laugh escapes her, her lips stretching into an awkward smile. Her eyes meet his and they’re prodding, eager to hear more of this juicy content.

(y/n) shakes her head as more nervous laughter bubbles up.

“Afraid you’ll be rather bored, ‘toru” She hummed, going back to scrubbing the cream off of his other cheek.

“What, no time for boys?” He leans forward, making her stall in her movements, and bringing her gaze back to his. Her eyes flicker between his for a moment, trying to figure out why he was asking this of her now. He knows the answer to this question. Why was he even asking it?

Her head tilts at him in a small movement as she thinks through her answer, her eyes never leaving his.

“That’s private” She murmurs, just to gauge his reaction.

It was a pleasant one indeed. Only because she got an up close look was she able to see the twitch in his brow, the slow locking of his jaw before quickly relaxing it. So the notion that she did have something to tell bothered him. Interesting.

“So you have a little time for boys, then?” He asks, and the grin that stretches on his lips is anything but eager. It’s counterfeit. And almost poisonous.

“Why the sudden interest?” She hums, straightening her posture and going back to cleaning his face.

“Why the sudden need for privacy?” He asks, leaning forward again, seeing as she’d tried to put a few inches of distance between them. Her eyes briefly catch his, but she’s quick to return her focus. “I thought we said no more secrets”

A humorless laugh escapes her throat as she shakes her head at him.

“Satoru, how many times are you going to assume I’m hooking up with someone when I’m not?” She asks, only half-teasing.

“Hey, that’s not all on me, you were the one sneaking around in the middle of the night! A bootycall was the only logical answer”

“Except it wasn’t, and it isn’t” (y/n) reminds him.

“I’m still not totally convinced” He grumbles, rolling his eyes away from hers as he mulled over the scraps of evidence in his head.

“I can’t tell if you’re being nosey or completely jealous” She muses.

“Can’t a guy be more than one thing?” His eyes are on hers again in an instant as he grins up at her, this time with his usual charm that he tried to pull.

“Sure you can,” She grins back at him. “And you’re predictable”

His grin falls, but not completely. His lips are still curled into a soft smile as he stares up at her. It’s quiet for a moment, and there’s still some green mask left on his chin, but it’s momentarily forgotten as she gets lost in his stare.

She supposes she’d get jealous, too, if he started talking about seeing someone else. Someone else, she thinks to herself, a small crease forming between her brows. And that wasn’t fair of her to think, was it? He wasn’t hers, she’d made sure of that herself. But fuck, if the idea didn’t make something nasty twist in her gut.

“I’m not seeing anyone,” She blurts out, as if it wasn’t already clear to him that this was the case. “If that’s what you’re getting at. I don’t know why, you know I-”

She stops herself before something she doesn’t want to say out loud. He tilts his chin at her, curious to hear the rest of what she was going to say, but judging by the way she presses her lips together in a small smile, he gets the feeling that she’s swallowed her words.

Silently, she wipes the last patch of green cream off of his chin, and turns around to rinse the wash cloth thoroughly. After working out all of the mask from the cloth, she rings it out and drapes it over one of the towel bars to properly dry. When she turns back to Satoru, he’s raising his hands to pull the headband off.

“Wait,” Her voice is soft but it still stops him as she reaches out towards him. “I’ll get it,” She tells him as she loops her fingers through the fluffy band. “I was serious about not messing up your nails”

A small giggle escapes her as she slides the headband off, letting his hair fall around his ears and over his forehead.

“I appreciate that you care about my manicure” He half-teases.

Absent-mindedly, she brings her fingers bag to his hair, sweeping a few loose strands away from his eyes. She doesn’t even realize what she’s done until her eyes meet his, and suddenly she’s retracting her hand and staring back at him with wide eyes.

“I- sorry-”

“Don’t be,” Satoru smiles at her as he stands from the seat, stretching his tired limbs after sitting there for the last fifteen or so minutes. “You want help making dinner tonight?”

Just like that he’s strolling out of the bathroom with her in tow, telling her all of the ideas of things he wants to learn to cook. A lot of his list is baked sweets, but she listens to him ramble on anyways. It’s a good distraction for her to calm her racing heart. _

It’s a horrendously chilly day in december when paths cross that (y/n) would have never expected.

She, Satoru, Shoko, and the Fushiguro kids had been out for the day. It had started with a breakfast that they’d tried to make happen weekly, but had quickly turned into strolling around the shops in Tokyo so the kids could make their christmas wish lists. This of course was more or less a grocery list of things that Satoru was bound to buy as soon as he received this list, but it was fun for everyone nonetheless.

They’d just walked out of a pet shop, despite (y/n) making it clear that there would be no pets for christmas, claiming Megumi’s dogs were enough. She was reminding Tsumiki- and Satoru- of that fact as they walked out.

“What do you need a hamster for? Isn’t Megumi feisty enough?” She’d laughed as she’d pulled her hat over her head to keep her ears safe from the nippy cold breeze. Megumi gives his sister a wide grin, maybe out of pride, even.

“Because they’re so small and cute and fluffy-”

“Not helping, Satoru,” She swatted at his arm to stop him from getting Tsumiki’s hopes up, before turning her attention to the girl. “We’re not getting a hamster”

Just as Tsumiki’s pouty face was almost starting to work, (y/n) catches sight of an old familiar face, and her attention is quickly ripped away from the present as a beam stretches over her mouth.

“Nanami!”

He’s across the street, so she has to jog to get to him and catch his attention, leaving everyone else without much more of an explanation.

“Been awhile since I’ve seen Nanamin,” Shoko’s the first to speak, as the rest of them are staring at (y/n) as she catches up with the blonde man. Megumi and Tsumiki watch on with surprise, and a little confusion. While Satoru’s eyes narrow into a glare behind his shades. “He looks… good”

This turned his glare towards the woman, who pursed her lips and shrugged a shoulder. “What?” She asked innocently. “The haircut suits him”

When Nanami Kento finally hears his name and sees (y/n) making her way to him, he lights up. Recognition turns to delight as she approaches him, and when her arms open wide, he steps closer so that she can throw them around his neck and hug him like he was an old friend, and not just a past acquaintance that had shared trauma.

“Don’t remember them being so close” Satoru huffs, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his coat so that no one could see the way they ball into tight fists.

Hearing the odd seriousness in the usually overly-cheery man’s tone had Megumi looking up at Satoru out of curiosity. He wore a grimace, even with the shades covering his face, it was perfectly clear. When the boy glanced back towards where (y/n) was animatedly talking with the man he sort of recognized, an idea brewed in his head.

Tugging on the puffy sleeve of Tsumiki’s coat, Megumi gave her a look, making her follow his line of sight from Satoru’s evil eye, to where (y/n) and her supposed friend from high school were reconnecting. Tsumiki looked back and forth a few more times, noting how Gojo’s brow furrowed particularly harder as (y/n) grabbed the man’s arm and began to lead him back towards them.

As Nanami and (y/n) grow nearer, Satoru does his best to relax his features, but with the way she’s talking to him so enthusiastically, smiling and gesturing with her hands, he can’t help but have some intrigue.

Questions like when the hell did they get so buddy-buddy? And since when did Nanamin know how to smile? Flooded his mind. He was dying to know what it was that you were talking about that had you both looking so… engaged.

“Your jealousy’s showing,” Shoko snickered, knocking her elbow into Satoru’s. He sent her a half-playful scowl, which only made her grin in amusement. “And here I thought you grew out of that?” She teased.

Meanwhile, and as oblivious as ever, (y/n) had been filling Nanami in on all of the excitement she’d endured since graduating. He congratulated her, and asked all of the appropriate questions about the kids and the beginning of her career as a jujutsu sorcerer.

“You have to come properly meet the kids,” She’d told him, gesturing back to where the oddball looking group stood outside of the pet shop.

Nanami glanced over, briefly catching Gojo’s nasty gaze before he smoothed it out into something more friendly. It didn’t look remotely authentic, but it didn’t help that Shoko was cackling and knocking her arm against his, as though calling him out for his behavior. He supposed some things would never change.

(y/n) was linking her arm through his and walking with him back towards everyone before Nanami could find a way to politely decline the offer. It was nothing against the Fushiguro kids, (y/n) made them out to be pleasant little angels, but he had a feeling that Gojo wouldn’t be too keen on her inviting him over. Especially not arm in arm.

“So you and Six Eyes finally made it work, huh?” The blonde asked, semi bitterly, semi curiously.

(y/n) ducked her head to hide the blush dusting over her cheeks. Although she supposed it was cold enough outside she could play it off as a chill, she had a feeling Nanami would see through the lie.

“Uh, not exactly. I mean- not like you mean, anyways. He helps with the kids a lot” She stammers over her explanation, not knowing the proper way to define their relationship. Friend seemed too informal and broad to describe what they shared. Partner was… well, there was a certain connotation there, wasn’t there? Rather than try to find a label for it, she decides instead to shut her mouth.

Nanami chuckled.

Some things really would never change.

“Still got him to settle down though, hm?” Nanami hums, watching as Gojo ruffles up the hair of the little boy, who then proceeds to turn around and growl at him, smacking at his hand.

This was (y/n’s) little angel? Nanami wondered as the two began to bicker like they were both children. He couldn’t hear what they were arguing about, but from what he could see, he had a feeling the boy was in the right.

“So he’s… good with the kids?” Nanami asks, and the pair watch as Satoru’s solution to end the bickering was to lift up the kid by his ankle, dangling him in the air.

(y/n’s) eyes momentarily widen, and she jolts as if she’s going to run at the two- probably to scold Satoru and cradle Megumi in her arms like he was younger than he was- but she just as quickly relaxes as Satoru plops the boy on his shoulders. Megumi is still scowling, but appears to relax and let's Satoru hold him by the ankles while he sits. (y/n) makes a mental note to take a picture of them later when they’re not paying attention.

“Sometimes,” She finally answers Nanami’s question. “Tsumiki loves him. Megumi won’t admit it… but I know he likes him more than he lets on”

“So you’ll raise kids together, but you won’t put a label on things?” Nanami chuckles.

She looks over at him with a half smile and a raised brow.

“You sure care a lot about my love life, Nanamin~” She points out. “So what is it? You got a special someone that’s got love on your mind?”

He laughs again, not because she’s right, but because it was so like her to deflect like her life depended on it. She had gotten better at it since the last time he’d seen her, too.

When they do approach the rest of her group, Satoru’s line of sight is firmly set on the place where (y/n’s) elbow is hooked around Nanami’s, and it stays there while she introduces the kids to him. He doesn’t look up, or even force a polite smile, until Shoko is stepping forward and making them split up as she hugs Nanami.

Then, and only once (y/n) stepped closer to Satoru, putting some distance between her and the ex-sorcerer, does he relax. Megumi groans and kicks his feet out of Satoru’s hold, annoyed by the way he’d gripped his legs. During the pleasant small talk (y/n) and Shoko makes with the man, Satoru remains silent. Behind his shades his eyes are piercing and although Nanami can’t quite see it, he certainly feels it. It’s a bit unsettling, but just like in high school, it was more irritating than anything else.

Despite barely speaking to him, before the blonde man goes to part ways, Satoru scribbles something down on a receipt he’d found in his pocket, and passes it off to him. Nanami’s surprised to see it’s a phone number.

“For if you ever want to get back out there,” Satoru said with a nod. Nanami blinks as he stares at the Six Eyes user, and then back at the receipt. “I’d get ya back on the field in a jiffy, no questions asked” He continued with a grin, before making a point to sling an arm over (y/n’s) shoulders. She stumbles as he pulls her against his side, caught off guard by the sudden affection, but she relaxes just as quickly, and doesn’t appear upset by the action at all.

“Thanks” Nanami settles with a small nod of his head. He doesn’t think he’d ever go back into the world of jujutsu sorcery, but the proposal was still a thoughtful one. Especially so when he thought he’d been on the man’s shit list for merely talking to (y/n).

They say their goodbyes and part ways with a weak promise of brunch sometime.

Shoko is dragging Tsumiki into the next boutique, saying something about hair accessories that should be on her wish list. Leaving (y/n) and Satoru to follow behind, with Megumi still perched on Satoru’s shoulders.

(y/n) tucks her hands into the pockets of her coat, stepping out from under his arm, but still walking closely by his side.

“You really think he’ll come back?” She asks after a beat passes, too curious about his thoughts to wait until another time to bring it up.

“I don’t know,” He answers honestly, shrugging his shoulders, although the movement is stiff and awkward with Megumi resting on them. He giggles a bit at the movement. “But he looked… bored, didn’t he?”

When he looks down at her to gauge her reaction, she gives him a small nod.

“Figured a change of pace would be good for him” Satoru finished.

“Maybe you can train him again (y/n),” Megumi pipes up. He leans over Satoru’s head, resting his arms across the white locks before setting his chin against the puffy sleeves of his coat to rest. “Like me”

She smiles up at him sweetly, and nods her head again. Truthfully, Nanami’s abilities nearly surpassed hers back in the day, but she had no problem with letting Megumi believe she was stronger than she was.

“Maybe then I’ll get good at teaching,” She said, eyes flickering down to Satoru, who beamed at the idea. “Jujutsu Tech always needs more teachers” She shrugs a shoulder at the thought.

But for now, she tables the idea, putting her focus back into entertaining the kids for the day. As long as they had a good holiday season, full of the spoiling and love they so deserved, she’d be content.

___

On the third day of February, Gojo Satoru shows up at the (y/l/n)-Fushiguro apartment like a madman that evening. He appears out of thin air in the living room, and his worried state only escalates when he finds the room empty. It’s late enough that without the lights, the room is dark, but early enough in the evening that there should have been some form of life in the apartment.

He’s quick to scour through the hallways. He finds Tsumiki asleep in her bed, and carefully closes the door behind him. When he turns to Megumi’s room, the boy is still awake, happily reading with the clip-on light on the cover of his book- a gift he’d gotten from (y/n) this past holiday. When the man practically barges into the room, he’s not as alarmed as he should be. Satoru appearing out of nowhere had become such a regular occurrence that it would be silly if he still flinched at his sudden presence.

“Sorry, kid, shoulda knocked,” Satoru apologizes sheepishly. “(y/n/n) here? She didn’t go on a mission, did she?”

It wouldn’t be like her to take on an assignment and leave the kids alone at the apartment. Then again, it wasn’t like her to ignore his texts and calls all day. Eight texts, three phone calls, to be exact.

She’d ignored Shoko’s, too. Hence is panic and instantaneous arrival at her residence.

Megumi shakes his head, tucking his bookmark into the page he’d been on before setting it down. He climbs out of bed wordlessly, and walks out of the room, leaving Satoru to follow after him.

He’s a little embarrassed when Megumi takes him towards (y/n’s) room, where her door has been left ajar. He points through the crack, before looking up at Satoru with a small frown.

“She’s been out there all night,” He says softly.

Satoru furrows his brows, before pushing open the door a little more so he could see for himself what Megumi meant. Sure enough, her bedroom was unlit, and the window on the furthest wall was slid open. The curtains surrounding it blow gently with the breeze that creeps into the room. He can just barely make out (y/n) sitting on the small patch of roof just outside of the window.

“Is she okay?” Megumi asks, his voice even smaller.

He’d never seen her the way she’d acted today. There had been a ghostly pale look on her face this morning, and then again when she’d picked up him and his sister from school. Most of the afternoon was spent focused on chores, and then preparing dinner. Any attempts made by him or his sister to get her to open up, or even smile, had failed.

And then, once dinner was finished and the dishes were done, she’d excused herself to her room. After two hours, Megumi and Tsumiki had peeked in to see if she was alright, only to find her sitting on the roof outside her window, alone.

Satoru lets out a sigh, his heart sinking as it finally clicks for him why she’d been so dodgy. He should’ve figured it out sooner, he realizes that now.

“She’ll be alright,” He answers Megumi, pulling the door shut to give her her privacy again, even though she didn’t seem to notice the onlooking presence behind her. “Come on, you should get to bed”

Megumi hesitates, wanting to know more, out of worry for his caretaker that worked so hard to make sure he was content and happy every day of his life. Now she was struggling and he felt helpless. But he was just a kid, what was he supposed to do?

“You’ll make sure?” He asks. It was the closest to asking the man for help that he’d ever gotten, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Satoru smiles, patting the kid on the head before pushing him gently back towards his room.

“Course I will,” He says, and it seems genuine, so Megumi complies and begins walking back to his door. “Sweet dreams ‘gumi”

“Goodnight” Megumi calls, rather than roll his eyes like he wants to. Well, at least he waits until he’s in his closed room to do so.

Once he’s out of sight and presumably settling back into bed, Satoru opens the door he’s lingered by and slips into the room quickly. Even as he climbs out of the window- which was a great struggle because it was a small opening and he was all limbs- (y/n’s) attention remains on the sky.

She has her knees pulled to her chest, and now he’s close enough that he can smell the cigarette held between her fingers.

“Thought you quit” He hums as she crawls awkwardly to where she’s sitting.

(y/n) doesn’t flinch at his presence. He wonders how long she’d realized he was there. She doesn’t look at him, either, much to his dismay. She’s still focused on the stars, as though they’d been in the midst of an important conversation.

“Yeah, well,” Her voice is a murmur as she brings the cig to her lips, taking a short drag. After filling her lungs she exhales, sighing for longer than she had smoke to disseminate. “Guess I couldn’t help it today”

Satoru nods in understanding, his attention catching on a small plate beside her. The tiniest of smiles quirks on the corner of his lips as he sees a lone cupcake sitting on it. It looks positively delicious, thick vanilla cake wrapped in a colorful paper, topped with a generous amount of frosting, curled over itself in a perfect mountain, and then covered in rainbow sprinkles.

If this was any other cupcake, on any other day, he’d be pushing her off this roof right now just to steal a bite of it.

But this cupcake wasn’t meant for him.

“I know you’re going to worry,” (y/n’s) speaking again, and his eyes drift away from the ominous treat and back to her, even though she’s still refusing to look at him. “But you don’t need to. You can go, if you want…” She trails off for a moment, taking in a shaky breath before finishing her thought. “If you need to grieve… in your own way”

Amidst the solemn memories that are flooding his mind of this day in past years, Satoru thinks it’s one of the kindest things she’s ever offered to him. Pushing him away so that he can process this day however he needs, rather than sit here and comfort her while she processes her way.

And it’s not that it’s easy for him, because it isn’t. He’d woken up today knowing exactly what day it was. And not just Friday. Today the weight of the world felt heavier on his shoulders than usual. His coffee, pumped full of cream and sugar, tasted bitter. The sun seemed to disappear behind a patch of clouds every time he stepped outside. The day dragged and dragged, and given the fact that (y/n) had ghosted him for the day hadn’t helped.

But he couldn’t exactly blame her. Because even he was a reminder to her. A reminder that their group of three had once been four. That when he’d met her all those years ago, he’d come as a matching set. His heart sank for her, knowing there was nothing he could do to ease her mind of pleasant memories now covered in a haze of darkness.

Guilt. Regret. Longing.

“No, sweetheart,” He murmurs to her, sliding himself over the shingles to be closer to her. Her hair is down, and it covers her side profile, so it’s still hard for him to see her, but for once he’s patient. “No, ‘m not goin’ anywhere”

It’s quiet for quite some time. (y/n) continues puffing on the cigarette until the taste turns sour in her mouth, and then she’s stumping it out on the shingles, only half smoked. Satoru hopes this means she really has quit the nasty habit, and tonight wasn’t a backslide on an old addiction, but instead a small escape towards nostalgia. While she fiddles with the dead cig in her fingers, he notes it was the brand that Shoko always picked up. The very brand that back in high school, she’d made smoke buddies out of (y/n), and Suguru too, smoking those exact cigarettes.

“D’you think he’s celebrating?”

Her voice catches in her throat, but she swallows the lump as soon as she voices her question.

No, Satoru thinks.

“Maybe,” He hums in response. “Probably not as hard as you did” He adds, trying to lighten the mood with the memory of her own twentieth birthday. (y/n) lets out a small sound that was meant to be a hum, but it sounds choked, like someone has a hand around her throat, strangling her pipes until she had no more voice left.

She stares at the cigarette in her fingers, her eyes hard, desperate to stay dry, but this leaves them without emotion.

“I didn’t think today would be this hard,” She admits. “I thought I…”

Satoru watches her carefully, his eyes darting from her hidden face to the cigarette that was trembling in her delicate hold. As if the day alone wasn’t hard enough, his heart breaks over her further. Being the strongest didn’t mean shit at this moment. There wasn’t a damn thing he could do to ease this pain for her, but fuck, if he could take it all away, and carry it for her himself, he would.

“I thought I’d already cried as much as I could over him,” Her words wobble, thanks to her burning throat and quivering lips. “But I… I just…”

She shakes her head, a humorless laugh escaping her throat in one harsh sob. It sounds exactly how she feels. Angry, forlorn, exasperated.

“Satoru,”

She turns to him, finally. The stumpy little cigarette falls from her shaking hands as she moves quickly. As if his heart wasn’t hurting enough, now he sees the tears streaming down her face.

How long had she been out here crying? He worries. How long had she been carrying this alone?

Before she can continue he’s surging forward. Both hands raising to her face in order to make quick work at drying her tears. It’s no use, they won’t stop flooding and he knows it too, but still, he wipes them away with diligent, loving thumbs.

“I can’t bear this,” She mumbles, watery eyes flickering between his.

It’s a damn vulnerable thing to admit, and maybe tomorrow she’ll regret this moment of fragile exposure, but right now all she feels is a weight on her chest, pressing harder and harder until it’s left a gaping wound, and she’s so desperate for relief from this pain that she brings her walls down. Even if it means she takes them down completely.

“It hurts too much,” She continues in a strained whimper. “I don’t want to miss him anymore, I don’t want to think about him anymore,”

Satoru’s brows fall to furrow together as she makes her pained confession, and if it wasn’t for the way she spoke, he could see it on her. In the way her body shook as she cried, her hurt seeped out of every orifice, until she was made nearly unrecognizable.

Since Geto Suguru’s defection, she’d done a bang up job keeping her feelings on the matter to herself. Minus the day he left them, she’d barely even spoken a word about it, and in fact, she hadn’t talked about him at all. Until this very moment. It appeared that she’d kept it packed up so deep inside that today was the last straw, the final blow to her unprocessed grief. Denial was a wonderful thing, but it could only do the trick for so long.

Satoru cradles her face with the gentleness of feathers on her skin. He doesn’t say a word, there’s not enough words in the world to bring an ounce of comfort to her now. Nothing could fix the situation, believe him, he’s tried to find the miracle cure. But this disease that was their shared trauma, their haunted past, was terminal.

So instead he sits quietly with her. He brushes away her tears with the pads of his thumbs, over and over again, and he’s bound to this very spot to continue to do so until it’s enough. Until he’s enough to carry all of her sorrow, all of her strife, and anything else.

Satoru’s throat begins to burn the longer he watches her fall apart at the seams before him. This wasn’t the first time he’s seen her at her lowest, he’d been there once or twice before to try to pick up her pieces, and hold her gently together until she feels whole again. But it doesn’t matter if he’d done this a thousand times before, it always feels unfamiliar, and it always wounds him.

He tries his hardest to push down the feeling, to be present as the strength that she needs of him. But tonight is different than the other times he’s calmed and comforted her.

A shaky exhale escapes him, and the movements of his thumbs on her cheeks grow rushed, and erratic.

“Oh sweetheart,” Satoru means to speak in a murmur, but his voice wavers as much as his breath. It’s littered with an emotion that makes (y/n’s) stomach churn and knot. “You know I hate seeing you cry”

His eyes follow the constant flow of tears as he prods carefully to wipe them away. His heart weighs heavy in his chest, sinking all the way to his stomach.

Slowly, (y/n) inches forward, her eyes flickering between his for a moment, before her hands rest on his shoulders and she leans in to embrace him. It’s stiff at first, as if they were unfamiliar with hugging one another. But she sinks into him after adjusting, and wraps her arms around his neck completely while holding on tight.

His own arms encircle her waist, before resting cheek atop her head.

“I wish I could just hate him,” She mumbles into his shoulder, the fabric of his tee shirt growing wet with her tears pooling into it. “It would make it easier”

Satoru nods. One of his hands pressed flat against her back as he started to move it in soothing circles.

They sit quietly for a few minutes, until her crying has calmed enough that she’s not shaking anymore, and his eyes have fallen shut with fatigue whilst he’s holding her close and rubbing her back.

“D’you want to go inside?” Satoru hums, tilting his head to press her lips into her hair. “Get some rest?”

She doesn’t answer him right away. Not in words, at least. Her arms tighten around him in the slightest, tensing up as she makes sure her hold on him is firm.

“No,” She whispers, followed by another squeeze, and this time he feels the pads of her fingertips pressing into the material of his shirt, against his skin. “I want to stay here a little longer,” She admits while she pushes her face into the crook of his neck. “If that’s okay?” She asks in a smaller voice.

“Of course that’s okay,” Satoru agrees, his free hand reaching up to cup the back of her head. He gently pets her hair as she settles back into him again. Best case scenario, she’ll fall asleep, and he can tuck her into bed and hope that the rest brings her more comfort than he’s capable of. “Whatever you want, sweetheart,” His lips graze over her head as he murmurs, “Just let me know. I’ll do whatever you need. I’ll get you whatever you need. Just tell me”

Again, her hold stiffens on him, and she’s got him so snug in her arms now that breaking away would prove to be difficult. Strongest be damned. No hold on Gojo Satoru has ever been more binding.

And then she’s pulling away. Her arms loosen and slide away, only for her hands to find purchase at his forearms, tethering herself to him with a gentle grip. Even still, this has him locked to her, chained, bound.

He lifts his head to look at her properly, meeting her wide, panicked eyes. There’s a few tears left, clinging where they could. They hide in plain sight at the corners of her eyes and on her cheeks. Satoru has the thought to clear them away, but her hands begin to shake as she clings to his arms, and he doesn’t have the heart to pull himself from her grip.

No hold on Gojo Satoru has ever been more binding.

“Then I need you to promise me something,” She speaks with urgency, although he could already see the fright in her eyes. He doesn’t get a chance to nod in agreement before she’s speaking again. “You can’t ever go”

Satoru blinks, taken aback by the request. He’s quick to reassure her with a small chuckle, not out of humor, but from the irony that she feels the need to ask such a thing.

“Of course I won’t-”

“I’m serious,” She speaks over him, eyes unblinking as she moves her hands to clutch onto his shoulders. Her hold is softer now, but it carries the same weight. “Please, promise me,” She whispers. “Promise you won’t go anywhere,”

She sucks in a breath as she fights more tears from pooling in her eyes.

“Promise me I won’t ever lose you, too,”

Satoru’s brows pinch together as he nods back at her in a small motion. With his arms free, he cups her face in his hands again, tilting her head forward so he could seal his promise with his lips pressed against the crown of her head.

He lingers there for a second, before kissing her in the middle of her forehead once more and leaning away so he could look at her.

“I just can’t-” She tries to speak but her tears are choking her up again. “I can’t lose you, okay?”

He’s nodding at her, his expression gravely serious as he agrees to her terms.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart,” Satoru tucks a loose strand of hair carefully behind her ear before continuing. “You’ll never lose me,” He gives her a sweet, comforting smile before he’s cupping her face again, fingers splayed across her cheeks, catching the last of her tears and drying them off. “I need ya too much, yaknow?”

A faint smile quirks at the corners of her lips, her eyes filling with relief, and something bashful. He can feel it in the warmth of her face.

Softly, she murmurs, “I need you, too,”

It’s a difficult thing to say out loud, there’s more weight to those words than she thought there would be, but it’s the truth, and she needs him to know it. She needs him to know that while there’s still things she can’t bring herself to admit, at the end of the day he had her complete trust. And right now, that seems more important.

“I…” Her voice gets caught in her throat, but this time it’s not because of the burn of tears. She swallows hard anyways, and musters up the courage to continue. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, ‘toru”

His smile grows warm and syrupy. It might not have been the confession he was holding out for, but it still made something fluttery and ticklish dance around his inside. His heart swells. His eyelashes grow heavy.

“Miss me, hopefully” He murmurs, gently pinching her cheek between his thumb and index finger, then smoothing over the skin with the pad of his thumb.

Her mood is significantly lifted by his familiar and affectionate teasing. Her pain still lurks around the corner, but right now her back is turned, and all she can see are his bright eyes and tender smile. All she knows is that his hands are warm against her face, and it turns her to putty having him this close.

Her head tilts to the side, cheek pressing further into the comforting warmth of his hand. He regards her with a fondness so intense it almost makes her nervous. Sometimes she had to re-learn how to get used to this look.

“Then…” Her voice is merely a breath. “Stay”

He’s smiling again, even though he knows she’s not asking him to spend the night in the spare room- which he’d already done five days out of this week without being invited, he didn’t need an invitation to crash there, he just did- but asking him to stay here, with her. He shouldn’t be smiling, he shouldn’t feel that skip in his heart beat as he preens with pride and adoration. Because the last time he’d stayed with her, it had been too hard.

It was too domestic. Too intimate. And all too difficult to pretend that it was normal, or casual. The feelings that she plants in him blossom like uncontrollable wildflowers, and Satoru had realized he was far too weak to ever put himself through it again. He cared about her too deeply to jeopardize it all over a shared bed. Maybe it was childish of him, but he’d sworn he wouldn’t do it again. When she’d made it so clear where they stood with one another, it wasn’t fair to her to gaze at her long after she'd fallen asleep in his arms and ache for more.

But Satoru is a fool.

He’s carefully helping her back through the window while she holds the cupcake in one hand and his in the other. Before he heads to the spare room- where he has left quite a few drawers worth of extra clothes- he gives her hand a squeeze. A silent promise that he’ll be quick. She leaves the cupcake on her bedside table while she sits at the edge of her mattress and waits. He is very quick, back in her room after barely two minutes have gone by. When he closes the door, he does so as silently as possible. When he sits beside her, his movements are slow, almost calculated with how carefully he moves.

“We should eat this cupcake,” She tells him, her eyes focused on the treat with an unreadable emotion behind them. “It would be a shame… if it went to waste”

He lets out a chuckle, which has her attention shifting to him.

“I couldn’t agree more” He says with a wide grin.

Her brow furrows.

“Were you just waiting for me to-”

“Yes, yeah I was, hand it over”

He’s already reaching across her to snatch the plate off of the table. There’s a plastic knife residing beside the cupcake, and after carefully peeling off the paper wrapper, Satoru cuts the cake down the middle as evenly as he could. (y/n) almost laughs at his eagerness to eat the treat. She supposes she could have let him have the whole thing if he was so eager for it, but he’s already handing her a half, and it does look delicious.

When she’d wandered into the bakery earlier that afternoon, before the Fushiguro kids were out of school, she hadn’t really planned on picking out a dessert to celebrate the birthday of someone she was trying to forget. She wasn’t really sure what had wound her up in there, she hadn’t held a particular craving for any of the sugary sweets on display. Then she’d seen that cupcake in the glass case, and as soon as her eyes had landed on it, she found herself getting in line to order it. All the while telling herself this was silly, that he didn’t even have a sweet tooth, and this wasn’t at all what she would have gotten to celebrate his day had he been here.

But he wasn’t here. And (y/n) was taking the small box home to sit on her counter where it could taunt her for the rest of the day, until she;d given in and plated the damn thing.

Now she stares at her half of it, held carefully in her fingertips. The frosting felt heavy atop the small piece of cake, and she’s reminded that she actually doesn’t really care for cupcakes. They were awkward, especially ones like these, where it was impossible to take a bite without getting cream smeared on your face.

She really shouldn’t have bought this.

“Well, that was the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten”

Satoru snaps her out of her thoughts, her head snapping towards him in a jerky movement, as if she’d forgotten he was sitting beside her. He’s got the pad of his middle finger between pursed lips, happily sucking off the last of the sugary sweetness. He grins at her surprise. (y/n) looks back at her own piece, and finally, carefully takes a bite.

It’s all vanilla and sugar. From the cake to the frosting and sprinkles, the tiny dessert is packed with sweetness. Even after one bite she’s certain that half of the cupcake was plenty, and she never would have eaten the whole thing on her own. Although she’s sure Satoru would have finished the whole thing without a complaint.

Just as she’d thought, when she finishes her piece, she can feel the remnants of frosting clinging to her lip. With a crinkled nose she wipes at it with her thumb, before turning to Satoru.

“Did I get it all?” She asks. He chuckles as he shakes his head, amused by the smear of white over her cupid’s bow. However before she can blindly rub it away some more, he’s leaning forward. His fingers hook under her chin while his thumb craftily swipes over her upper lip, making sure to get the last of the offending frosting.

It’s not much, and really had she rubbed her mouth again she would have easily cleared away the rest of it, but he couldn’t resist, and he was acting without thinking.

“There ya go” He hums, his voice quieter than he meant it to be, before he’s sticking his thumb in his mouth to enjoy the last of her vanilla frosting as well.

(y/n) blinks, her eyes wide but the rest of her expression blank. She figures she should thank him, maybe even make a joke to play off the strangely intimate act that has her heart doing somersaults in her chest, but she can’t bring herself to say anything.

Without a word, she stands from the bed, placing the plate with the wrapper and plasticware back on her nightstand. Satoru takes his time getting settled under her covers, against her pillows. When she climbs in after him, she’s still quiet. She tucks the blanket up close to her chin, and then glances up to him, finding his eyes already on her.

They’re not touching, but he’s close enough that she can feel his heat under the shared blankets. He’s close enough that she’s glad it’s dark in the room, because her face feels warm with the familiar sensation of a blush.

Four years of knowing him, and his close proximity still garnered the same reaction out of her. She wondered if he knew she was blushing anyways, if his Six Eyes were always able to see right through her.

“Can I ask you something?” She murmurs, although her eyes are feeling too heavy to start a conversation right now.

He gives her a small smirk and a raised brow, intrigued by the age old anxiety-inducing question.

“Shoot” He muses back.

“How do you do it?” (y/n’s) hand slides under her pillow, raising her head just enough to get a proper look at him. He looks puzzled, like he doesn’t understand the question, so she clarifies. “You know, have the answer for everything,” She says. “I feel like I… I feel like I bombard you with problem after problem and you just…”

She trails off, and if she was being honest it’s because she’s getting lost in his eyes and forgetting momentarily what she was even talking about. There were times when she looked at him that while he looked back, she got the overwhelming sense of his complete attention. And sometimes, it made her heart stutter. Occasionally her voice would deceive her, too. She wants to move in closer, until she’s so impossibly too close, but she snaps back to reality just as her mind had started to drift off.

“You just always know what to do. Or say” She finishes her thought in a hushed whisper. Maybe it was her train of thought turning hazy from the adoration seeping in, but she suddenly feels like it was a confidential thing to say, too full of emotion to put out in the open so brazenly.

Satoru chuckles, and it relieves some of the tension that’s curling up in her chest.

“It’s cute that you think that,” He replies. “That’s just what we do, though, isn’t it?”

Now it’s her turn to furrow her eyebrows, not understanding what he’s trying to say.

Satoru gives her a small shrug.

“We look out for each other,” He states. “Right?”

“I ‘spose” (y/n) mumbles back, feeling severely gutted by the realization that he looked out for her more than she did for him. How do you have the back of someone who’s already the strongest in the world? How could she possibly be as good to him as he was to her?

It dawns on her then that she can’t, that she could never be a semblance of a person he deserved to have in his life. Not just due to his strength and status, but because of who Gojo Satoru was as a human. He was far too good, too kind and caring and patient for the likes of her to be involved with him. She was messy, at times reckless, and most of all she lived too much in her own head. Overthinking every situation, and every word, most days it felt like it took her ages just to find the right way to respond, to find the right words, make the right face.

Like right now.

“You don’t think so?” Satoru asks, readjusting his pillow so he too could get a better look at her. Her lips twitch into an awkward smile, nervous that he was able to read her so easily. “What’re you thinkin’ about?”

But how was she supposed to tell him? While she lays here and feels regret and guilt flood through her bloodstream like poison, how does she explain to him that she finally understood why she’d pushed him away all those months ago when he’d tried to make something more of the two of them? Just the thought has her skin crawling with goosebumps, and her heart thumping hard in her chest with adrenaline.

“C’mon, tell me” He prods again, this time giving her a smile, too curious to know what was knotting up her pretty features with an upset expression. Something clearly bothered her about his statement- or at least, it was clear to him.

Her mouth opens, but even still she struggles to find the right thing to say. No set of words in her language seemed like a good enough explanation. Or maybe she just didn’t want to admit what had been on her mind. Because admitting it would prove to him that it had been on her mind.

“I…” Her throat feels dry. The fingers under her pillow curl into the sheets tightly. “I don’t think it’s fair of me to ask you to stay,” She confesses in a small voice. Satoru’s face falls. “I don’t think it’s fair of me to make you promise,”

He lifts his head from the pillow, bracing himself up on his arm as he looks down at her with an expression that was somewhere between concern and peculiarity.

Holding onto her last scrap of courage, (y/n) continues.

“You’re destined for such magnificent things,” She murmurs, a ghost of a smile on her face. “And you’re the strongest but- but it’s not just because of that. You were always going to be destined for great things, because… because you’re you,”

She pauses, taking in a small breath and fighting the urge to look away from him, to spare herself from the eyes that were piercing into hers with ardent focus.

“And I… I’m just…” Her lip gets dragged between her teeth as she shakes her head in a slow movement. “You were born deserving so, so much more than…” In a lazy gesture, her free hand waves above her, fingers twitching in small motions. She doesn’t say me, but he knows it’s what she’s trying to convey.

“Don’t say that” He mumbles, offended that she could even think such an untrue, vulgar thing about herself, about the person he cares so much more about than she gave him credit for.

“It’s true,” She says back. “You could be doing so much more amazing things with your life, you could have anything in the world if you wanted it, but instead you’re- you’re here,” Her voice grows smaller as she speaks, the dread of what she needed to say next weighing heavy on her tongue. “And I… I know I shouldn’t be making you promise to stay. I should be making you go,”

She swallows hard, trying to get the lump in her throat to smooth away, but it lingers there, and makes her breath hitch as she closes her eyes before continuing.

“But I just can’t bring myself to do it”

She can’t see him, but Satoru’s shaking his head at her, refusing to accept any of the nonsense she’s telling him right now.

“Then don’t,” He says, his words rushed, desperate to make himself clear before actually thinking through what the right thing to say was. “You don’t have to. I don’t want you to,”

She’s refusing to look at him, so with his free hand, he cups her face, and he waits until she does. Her eyes are glossy, but she’s fighting the need to cry again.

“You understand me, sweetheart?” He murmurs, his voice softening as he gazes down at her. The snow-white tips of his hair almost touch her forehead with how close he’s leaning. “I don’t want to go anywhere, I don’t want to be anywhere else, with anyone else, even right now, okay?”

She presses her lips together in an attempt to hide her wince.

“Tell me you understand,” He whispers, eyes flickering between hers. “I need to know that you understand”

A small sniffle, and then a nod.

“I understand,” Her voice cracks even in her whisper. “I just-”

“No more of that,” He murmurs, his gentle thumb tracing her cheekbone in slow, lazy movements. “No more of that, I can’t stand it. You can’t push me away. Not again. Not ever again” He’s shaking his head to punctuate every word.

A single tear drips from her eye as she blinks, and he’s quick to wipe it away, just as he had earlier, desperate to make all of her tears disappear in any way he can, anyway she needs.

This wasn’t the first time she’d done this, but it gutted him all the same, recalling the last time she’d tried to force him away. She’d nearly gone and gotten herself killed by the hands of the Zen’in Clan. And before that was their fight, in the halls of Jujutsu Tech, when she’d told him that she didn’t need him. He nearly shudders at the memory. Of course he knew now that she hadn’t meant it, that it was her desperate attempt to keep him from prying into her life where she’d thought he was going to wind up hurt.

Now it was different. Now it was real. It was raw ache and fear before him.

“I promised you I’m not going anywhere,” He tells her. His eyes trailing down to her lips on their own accord. “I need you to promise me the same,”

There’s a pause as his words hang between them, and then she gives him a shaky nod. Her wide eyes don’t leave his, they remain searching, needing to be sure that he means it. There’s not a bone in her body that tells her otherwise, but she’s so terrified of the fear of losing him that she just needs to be absolutely sure.

“I’m the one being unfair,” Satoru murmurs, his eyes following the movement of his thumb over her cheek. “I know that, I know that you don’t want more and I overstep anyways because… because I can’t help it”

There’s a shift in the mood, she can feel it, how it lightens the pressure on her chest before slamming it right back down.

He leans closer, and her breath hitches in her throat at the prospect of him closing every last inch of distance between them. She should stop him, she should put her hands on his shoulders and push him away until he’s at a safe distance from her again. But she doesn’t.

She pulls her hand out from under her pillow, and it blindly slides over the sheets until it finds his. Her movements are slow, almost frightfully so as her fingers slot between his. She tries to calm her breathing but it’s hard to focus on it and him so she settles for keeping her focus on him.

With her fingers fully tangled with his he squeezes her hand, maybe tighter than he should have, but having her so close is intoxicating, and he just wants to savor it for as long as he can.

(y/n) takes in a deep breath.

“I never said I didn’t want more,” She whispers, peering up at him from beneath heavy lashes.

His heart is beating so quickly he’s certain she can hear it. It pounds heavily in his ears, almost louder than her hushed whispers. Was he understanding her right?

“I was just… afraid” She admits it softly.

Satoru furrows his brow, but his lips curl into a smirk that had her regretting saying anything because she knows he’s about to tease her now.

“Afraid?” He repeats with a small laugh. “You think I’d ever do anything to hurt you?”

He’s teasing, but the thought makes him want to throw up.

“Course not,” She shakes her head, before gently pressing her face further into the warmth of his hand. She hopes it’s an unnoticed movement, but from the way he also applies more pressure in his touch, she thinks otherwise. “More like I’m afraid of hurting you”

Satoru laughs louder this time, his face splitting into a delighted smile. He’s completely amused by the idea, and (y/n) frowns at him.

“You can’t hurt me sweetheart,” He practically purrs, and then he’s leaning closer. His chest hovers over her close enough that she feels almost caged in by him. He’s close enough now that the tip of his nose nearly bumps into hers. “I’m completely untouchable”

She squeezes his hand with an affectionate roll of her eyes.

“I think you have to actually activate infinity if you want it to work” She murmurs.

It’s quiet again, the two of them smiling at each other fondly, foolishly, both taken away by a deep infatuation that had been repressed for far too long. It seeps out of them now like an overflow, pouring out in the cracks that were their adoring eyes.

Her free hand reaches up towards his face, fingertips ghosting over the soft ends of his hair that hangs down over her eyes. She combs her fingers through the silky strands of white before trailing downwards, her touch light and gentle as she traces his forehead, followed by his nose, then cheekbone, down towards his jaw. Her sleepy gaze observes every drag of her fingers, as though committing it all to memory.

Satoru’s frozen above her, allowing her to explore every inch of his face if she so pleased. It was a face she’d known for years, but she touches him now like she’s only recently been bestowed the gift of sight. He’s not sure the last time he’s been touched so gently. There’s a distant memory of his mother’s hand caressing his cheek, but even in a fond memory the touch is fleeting.

Being touched like this- softly, sweetly, carefully, lovingly- by her, it’s as though she has all the time in the world.

Her fingers fall still over his chin as her eyes flit back up to his.

They meet for a brief moment before his eyes are falling shut and he’s closing the space between them. As soon as his lips touch hers she’s sliding her hand under his jaw, keeping him perfectly in place as she kisses him back.

His mouth is warm, and still sweet from the cupcake they’d shared, which seems like forever ago. In fact everything seems to fade away. The only thing she can feel is his soft lips, his soft hand splayed over her cheek, the soft swipe of his thumb over hers where their hands are still interlocked.

The kiss is experimentally slow at first. They’re both holding their breath, each half expecting the other to pull away prematurely with remorseful eyes. Neither do.

They part for a second, only because oxygen becomes a necessity once more. Satoru smiles down at her when he sees her eyes are still shut, and he can’t help but to lean in and plant one more quick kiss on her lips. He’s waited this long to get his chance, he might as well steal as many as he could get.

As he lays back on his side of the bed, he moves his hand from her cheek to her waist, gently coaxing her to lay closer, until she’s curled up into his side, one of her legs thrown between his, her head resting in the soft place below his collarbone. Their conjoined hands rest over his stomach. He’s still stroking his thumb over hers. She’s drawn to sleep by nothing but comfort.

“G’night, ‘toru” Her words are mumbled, and a little slurred.

He plants his lips at the crown of her head sweetly. She drifts to sleep with a faint smile.

“Goodnight, sweetheart”

___

The next morning she’s lured out of sleep by the smell of bacon.

It smells like a lot of other delicious things, too, but the bacon is what has her peeking open an eye to check the time. Sure enough, her bed is empty, and it’s mid-morning.

This time when she slips out of the covers to go check out the buffet of breakfast foods Satoru had been whipping up- effectively making an absolute mess of her kitchen- she’s not hungover. Her head isn’t killing her with such a brutal headache that she couldn’t open her eyes. As she walks quietly into the kitchen, she’s able to watch as Tsumiki pours pancake batter out of a ladle, carefully making shapes on the griddle. She leans into the fridge while she watches Satoru talk through his bacon frying process while Megumi sits on his shoulders, leaned over the top of his head, and apparently actually listening to him.

Tsumiki flips a pancake with perfect precision and they all cheer. Satoru reminds her to add chocolate chips to the bowl of pancake batter once she’s made enough for herself, Megumi, and (y/n). Because I refuse to eat pancakes without them, he reminds her, even though she doesn’t need it. He’s spent enough breakfasts with them now for the kids to realize how debilitating his sweet tooth was.

It’s Megumi who first notices (y/n’s) secretly joined them. With a boyish grin he tugs at Satoru’s hair, who cries out and almost stumbles at the sudden and sharp pain.

The pain is eased when he sees what Megumi was trying to catch his attention for. (y/n’s) trying to stifle her laughter from behind her hand, but she’s failing.

“Awe, the surprise is ruined now” Satoru frowns.

She drops her hand and shakes her head as she wanders further into the kitchen to see what else this mess had created. Megumi reaches towards her in a silent ask to be let off of Satoru’s shoulders. She lifts him up with ease and sets him on the ground.

“It’s not ruined at all,” She says with a smile. “But if you want to do it all again tomorrow, I’ll pretend I didn’t know” She adds in a tease.

“Yeah! Can we?” Tsumiki asks excitedly. “I want to make omelets!”

“No! French toast!” Megumi declares.

The pair break into a fit of bickering, which is quickly silenced by Satoru.

“Hey! You two are ruining this perfect morning!” He barks. “Stop fighting and we can have both!”

He doesn’t know how to make omelets, hell, he struggled with the bacon, so he’s hoping he can find a youtube tutorial decent enough to teach a helpless cook like him how to make some. But his promise does the trick and Megumi and Tsumiki work together to make more pancakes.

“Do you even know how-?” (y/n) begins to question his ability as she eyes the crispy bacon in the pan he’s no longer paying attention to because she’s there now and she somehow looks so pretty first thing in the morning. Her hair a complete mess, and donning a fluffy robe with bunnies all over it, he thinks it’s the cutest thing ever.

“Sh sh sh,” He hushes with a shake of his head, his hand wrapping around her hip as he pulls her into his side before finally looking back at the bacon. “Oh, shit” He mutters as he darts to turn off the stove while (y/n) picks up the tongs and plucks the strips off the pan before they start to completely burn.

“Yeah, maybe tomorrow I cook,” She muses, nose wrinkling at the overcooked bacon. But when she looks up at him again, she smiles happily. “You and Megumi will be on french toast duty,” She says decidedly. “I’ll teach Tsumiki how to make omelets”

His lips curl into a smirk at the simple instruction.

“Little Hex, are you inviting me to stay the night?”

“Ew!” Megumi grimaces, sticking his tongue out at the obvious flirt.

Tsumiki’s giggling, and starts to make a heart shaped pancake on the griddle, complete with Satoru’s chocolate chips.

(y/n) rolls her eyes, but her cheeks are undeniably warm, pink blossoming across her face.

“Only if Megumi says it’s okay” She replies, tilting her chin up at him teasingly.

Satoru turns the other way to look down at the kid that had a sinister smile on his face. Jeez, sometimes this kid creeped him out. How come (y/n’s) golden boy had to be such a goddamn menace?

Apparently she just had a soft spot for menaces.

Satoru meets Megumi’s ruthless stare with narrowed eyes.

“I’ll give you three hundred dollars”

“Satoru!” (y/n) picks up a kitchen towel off the counter to smack his arm with it. “No bribing the kids!”

“Fine,” He grumbles, catching the soft weapon mid swing before she could hit him again. Then he peeks back towards Megumi, and in a slightly quieter voice says, “Four hundred?”

(y/n) gasps at his blatant disregard for her rules, but before she can scold him again, Megumi gives a firm nod of agreement, and looks over to her.

“He can stay,” He says decidedly, but mutters to himself as he goes back to helping his sister with the pancakes. “He stays over every other freakin’ night anyways”

Tsumiki’s giggling as she whispers her own little rumors, much to the boy’s dismay, but he listens anyway.

“I think he’s warmin’ up to me” Satoru grins at (y/n). She presses her lips together so as not to laugh too hard at the statement.

“You’ve done right by them,” She tells him, something that he’d told her not too long ago. From the way his grin turns into a soft smile, she has a feeling he remembers. “And besides, everyone warms up to you eventually”

“You think you ever will?” He asks, only teasing.

She shrugs a shoulder, humming as though thinking it over.

“Maybe,” She muses, plucking a chocolate chip from the open bag on the counter. He furrows his brow at the sudden playfulness rather than a real answer. “We’ll see”

[ this is a place where i don’t feel alone / this is a place where i feel at home ]

___

a/n: i just want to gush about how much i loved writing this series, and sharing it with you all. it has been my absolute passion project. sorry the slow burn was so slow but i tried to keep it as realistic to the events of the manga and just how things would play out irl. i have a couple other spin-off fics related to this series in the works so i suppose it's not over yet- i just needed more fluff related to these characters that have brought me such comfort and entertainment!! thank you all for your continued support and love for this series (and my other fics too!) having this be so well received warms my heart <3 xoxo ~ jordie

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