#rainbow six imagines

[wastedr00k]

Ahhhh you’re back!!! I’m so happy to see you again! 🖤🖤 not sure if you will write for Fenrir from r6s? Some people are ok with him and others not so much. But if so could I please request either some nsfw headcanons or just a nsfw one shot of him and either a gender neutral or afab reader? Thank you so so much!

fenrir x reader (rainbow six siege)

synopsis; nsfw headcannons

genre; nsfw / 18+

words: 419

× on contrary to popular belief, fenrir leans more towards vanilla/loving sexual preference ; and he does not have much, if any, experiences with anyone else

× always eager to please his partner

× but that doesn't mean he won't use punishment as a teacher, if he deems fit, be prepared for a long night ;

sometimes he'll throw in some chemicals that act as a sex pollen, to either heighten your senses or/and increase your sexual desires, with consent of course

sensory deprivation for sure, blindfolded being his favorite among all for sure

× not an exhibitionist, he rather keep your body for his own private viewing and enjoyment

× a very verbal man during sex, either praises or degrading, sometimes he's feral side comes through and mixes both together, but it's always a good mix ;

"you're taking me so well, my darling. keep squeezing around me and i'll make sure to reward you well." Fenrir growls, his thrusts and pace unrelenting.

with your hands tied behind your back, cheeks pressed into the bed, there really wasn't much that you could say in response. all you could focus on was the feeling of Emil filling you up over and over again, his heat piercing you over and over again, pressing against all of your sweet spots.

"am i pleasuring you so well you can't even speak out a simple sentence? such a well behaved darling, letting me use your body like this." he chuckles and landed a slap on your ass cheeks, "keep still my darling, we still got a long night ahead.".

-

"you taste so sweet, give me more, use me to feel good." Emil breathed out, then pulling you down into his face by holding your thighs down. having you sit on his face has always been his favorite position. your hot flesh pressed against him while his tongue works in wonders on your heat, with his fingers digging into your skin, sure to leave marks but he'll kiss it later anyway. as moans of his name leaves your mouth, you can't help but to notice his very erect cock, it's head covered in pre-cum. with your blurry vision, you leaned down to reach your mouth onto his dick, taking him into your mouth.

feeling the heat of your mouth warped around him, Fenrir lets out a deep growl, then letting go of your heat, moving his fingers takes his tongue's place, thrusting inside and out slowly while stretching you out, "such a good darling, pleasing me so good.".

-

× will be romantic during special occasions, and he'll pull up all the stops, all the way from rose petals to candles and anything he feels will help set the mood

× plenty of aftercare, during both romantic and punishment sessions, he may bully you once in a while but he still loves and cherishes you very much

× for sure ties up his hair during sex

[itsohh]

Harishva Pandey - 2023

[r6s-imagines]

jackal x reader >> quit your squirming

•••

MASTERLIST

warnings: swearing, light injuries, tiny bit of nsfw, makeout sesh

•••

summary: jackal needs more practice perfecting his appearance, and the organization pilot happy to provide assistance.

notes: LOL I STARTED WRITING AGAIN VINE BOOM

•••

your knees wobbled from the lack of movement as you stood from the foam pad on the pavement floor, wiping your forehead and leaving a thin streak of grime onto your skin. rainbow should invest more into their vehicle care than their damn firing range, you thought. what good is aim if you can’t take it anywhere? bias aside, your error report was due to the director and you felt your joints cry out as you took slow steps back into the facility.

the universe had oddly comedic timing, making you climb up three flights of stairs to get to the drop-off destination. your eyes traced the fine stripe running alongside the wall, catching each door label and looking for the right one.

having been employed there for a large part of your working age, the door placements were almost muscle memory. marius’s mechanics office was fourth door down the south wing. you’d been there a million times, and when you swore you hit the fourth door, you knocked once and looped your arm around the knob, swinging open the door.

“marius, i have the--”

“carajo!”

a whisper-yell violated your ears and you stumbled, spilling the documents across the floor. the lone wolf jackal was sitting at his desk, chip up toward the ceiling and a large weathered hand concealing his neck. quite literally being the last man you hoped to meet in your condition, your temperature flared up and you could feel your underarms dampening.

the spaniard's hair was slicked back with curly flyaways, water dripping down his thick neck. his facial hair seemed to be taking over his face, though not too unkempt. you always considered him a perfect specimen, from his stone-cold perspective on extractions to the way he'd rest against a wall during a business celebration. "perfect," in your mind, did not mean flawless. he's slipped up, missed meetings, sometimes even forgotten his helmet for a mission. he was your hot, imaginary disaster of a boyfriend. in your daydreams, at least.

to those besides yourself, to call specialist jackal a disaster would be a practical understatement. sure, you’d catch his passing glance in the transport helicopter or watch his back muscles flex as he shrugged on his vest, but that doesn’t mean his interior was stable.

ramírez was a man past his prime, yet not weathered to the extent of being “too old.” your trusted co-pilot, jäger, called him your salt and pepper crush (for unclear reasons to you) to the point of you threatening to send the copter straight into the ocean.

"ramírez," your voice cracked. "sorry for the interruption. it seems i entered the wrong door. have a good day."

"i- no- wait-" he huffed, lifting his hand from his neck. he glanced in the mirror which caused his eyes to widen. ramírez reached out to you, quickly yet tenderly taking hold of your forearm. "could you... help. really quick. please."

it seemed like a cruel setup to an evil prank. you were too old for games, but you could name a few other operators that would seem up for such a thing. he continued.

"could you get me some gauze, l/n? a cotton ball. something. anything, por favor."

"are you okay?"

"yes. i cut my neck shaving," he looked up to your panicked expression. "just a little nick, don't worry."

you scurried toward one of the many first aid kits nailed to the wall. you flipped it open, fumbling for some sort of bandage. you paused, gripping it in your palm.

now's your chance, mein frund, you could hear jäger in your head. you nodded to yourself and reentered his room. jackal had not moved from his position but was now standing an inch from his mirror.

"gracias," he thanked, reaching out to grab the gauze from your hand. your quick thinking caused you to pull back.

"let me help," you said, with a light smirk. it had been some time since you last had the chance to flirt, with work and all clouding your mind since you got out of college. "i can see it better. sit."

he sat down, legs wide. you shuffled between his left leg, practically sitting on it. he readjusted in his seat. without even thinking twice, you held his chin and turned it upward.

"i can't reach it, it's like.. right under your jaw-" you mumbled mostly to yourself. you watched his jaw clenched and eyes glue to the ceiling and said nothing about it. it's working. "where is it?"

"here," jackal whispered back, placing his hand over yours and moving your hand to his pulse. you began to wipe at the blood, yet it never seemed to stop. fighting the frustration, you furrowed your brow and continued cleaning his neck, when suddenly, you heard a low groaning noise.

"quit your squirming," you instructed, holding him down with more authority. he continued to breathe through his teeth, and you felt his body heat radiating despite the gap. you began to get worried.

"is this okay?" you asked, referring to the cut. his breathing became heavier and body stiffer.

"yes... hhh—stay like that."

you raised an eyebrow, checking your surroundings. during your frustrations, you seemed to have taken a seat on his lap, with your hand applying gentle pressure on the sides of his neck. you soon realized he was not talking about the blood.

"me encanta esto." it was almost inaudible, said barely above a whisper, but you heard it.

for a moment, time stopped. you pulled your gauze-hand back, and truly seizing this glorious opportunity, placed it on his chest. it was just as amazing as you pictured it felt. was this actually happening right now? is he just really into this, or is he so uncomfortable he can't even speak?

he lowered his chin, meeting your eyes once before glancing down at your lips. you couldn't help but admire his long, dark eyelashes. his lips parted.

"can i kiss you...?" ramírez asked, fixated on your mouth. you nodded, slowly.

as if waiting a million years, his instincts took over as he grabbed the back of your neck and waist, pulling you in and smashing your lips together. you kissed back feverishly, holding the sides of his face and starting to slowly grind against his thigh. he tasted like minty rain and you loved every bit of it. after nearly a minute straight, you pulled away, taking a deep catching breath. you were so caught up against his lips you didn't notice the small trail of blood soaking into his shirt collar.

"ramírez—" you began, but he kissed you once more, just as deeply but as quick as a peck.

"thank you for the help," he replied in a low rumble. "i think i've got it from here."

you jumped up, remembering the report. you started to apologize before he grabbed your hand, squeezing it once.

"i'll be here. don't worry, i'll wait for you."

you nodded, closing his door behind you. it felt like high school prom! you cheered to yourself, throwing punches and kicking the air. who knew it was that easy?!

[writingmydelusions]

Flirting with Montagne (Female Reader! X Gilles “Montagne” Toures)

CW:Femdom-ish, Teasing, Flirting

-He’s not entirely sure how to react when you complement him. You two at this point are as good as acquainted, but something tells him you’re quite sincere about it.

-You tell him he’s quite beautiful whenever you can. The more you do it, the more flustered he gets. There’s this one time that you compliment him as you pass by him on a stairway for no good reason. He avoided your gaze, feeling as he needed to hide his blush from your piercing eyes.

-Gilles hasn’t got too much experience with women. Maybe a couple failed situationships here and there. He thinks he’s grown too old for games of love.

-He feels his heart flutter whenever you smile at him. It makes him feel very fuzzy and warm inside.

-There does come a point where you sincerely tell him how much you like him without you expecting too much in return. You just go up to him one night and confess your genuine admiration.

-Lion laughs as you walk away, unable to contain his amusement as he watches Gilles blush as he takes in your words.

-He wonders and questions if you’ve charmed other men like you charmed him. If you’ve whispered those sweet words to other men like you did to him. The truth is, he’s the only man you’ve verbally confessed your infatuation/admiration to.

-He catches up with you one day and asks if you meant all the sweet compliments and words you said. You blush, affirming his questions as you shyly ask if you could kiss his hand.

-He stammers out a “of course.” You kiss his knuckles and press his palm to your face. His heart rate speeds up as you lean in to press a sweet kiss to his cheek before work calls and you have to scamper away.

-he gets riled up enough that the next time you see him he swoops you into his arms and kisses you desperately. He flushes as he draws back for air and apologizes softly to you. You laugh, amused you run your hands through his hair and say all the right things to make him melt into your arms right then and there.

[kiruuuuu]

Siege the Valentine's, Day 11 💘

Hi all, you know the drill, follow @dualrainbow for more events like these and so you don't miss a single entry 😁 Thank you again to all the people organising this and thank you also to the participants!

My entry is a wholesome one (for once) about how Bandit and Jäger go on a date, but not really. I hope you enjoy it!! (Bandit/Jäger, Rating T, fluff, ~3.7k words)

.

“You better dress up for our date later.”

Bandit looks up only once his shoe is lightly kicked and greets his teammate with a wide grin, noticing how Rook’s head in the background whips around at the statement. “Rented a tux for you, babe. You better follow… suit.”

He earns a very satisfying groan and an eye roll, warranting no further questions from Jäger himself, though prompting IQ to lean over. “What are your plans for today?”

“Let’s see…” Bandit glances at the other man to check he’s not forgetting anything. “Early film, of course the most romantic one we could find, then a candle light dinner at an Italian place near the sports park, and if I play my cards right, it’ll turn into a sleepover with benefits.”

“Nice.” IQ nods in appreciation. “Learnt your lesson last year, huh?”

Bandit has long noticed they hold all the attention belonging to an increasingly confused-looking Rook who’s trying his best not to stare, so he hams it up even more. “Yeah, eating dinner first and then going to the cinema was a nightmare, we had to beg the waiter to rush our food even though they were swamped because the old couple who stole our table just wouldn’t leave and Marius was cranky the entire time. We only barely made the film and were too stressed out for any… other activities afterwards. Unlike today, hopefully.” He winks at Jäger and receives a sincere nod in return.

“I was in favour of just staying home and making some food ourselves, but he vetoed that. Vehemently.”

“Look, it would’ve been fine if you were still in your pickled phase, but fermentation?” Bandit makes a face in IQ’s direction. “You don’t want to know how much kimchi I’ve had to try in the last months. And those salty half-alcoholic fruits that never turned out right -”

“The kimchi was fine”, Jäger insists, getting huffy, “you’re just mad because I refused to make beer for you.”

“Absolutely no reason to just leave food lying around until it gets kinda mouldy. I don’t even like sauerkraut.”

“Soy sauce is fermented, actually, and you might as well drink the stuff with how -”

“You’re going on a date?”

It just burst out of Rook – even he seems appalled at his sudden interjection yet his curiosity must burn too bright for he does not recant his question. Instead, his eyes dart between them, seeking a specific reaction, a revealing sign, anything.

“Yeah”, Bandit replies easily, “just one of many, you know.” He doesn’t need to look to know Jäger nods in confirmation. IQ probably does as well.

“So…”

No way he’s letting him off the hook like that. Instead of picking up on Rook’s non-verbal implication, Bandit simply raises his brows expectantly and waits. He’s going to make him say it.

After he’s fidgeted uncomfortably for a few seconds, he finally blurts out: “So you two are dating.”

IQ throws him a pitying look. He’s not the first and he won’t be the last, and this whole thing is part of why Bandit enjoys days like Valentine’s so much. His smirk is overly smug yet he makes no effort to reign it in. “Of course we’re not. Never have, never will. What makes you think that?”

And he just soaks up the mixture of bemusement and annoyance radiating from the young Frenchman.

.

He’d be hard pressed to remember all the details from their first ‘date’, though some aspects preserved themselves illegally in his mind: when he pictures it, all he sees is a lanky, withdrawn nerd who grimaces every time anyone mentions Christmas around him, so Bandit naturally did what he always does. He pokes and prods and rubs it in until he finally gets a straight answer out of his current object of curiosity, and the one they called Jäger admitted his long-term boyfriend recently broke up with him so now all their plans for the festive season were nullified, leaving him devoid of company. And hey, what a coincidence, Bandit’s then-girlfriend (not for much longer, obviously) had just accepted an invitation to her horribly backward, racist and homophobic family’s party and he’d been looking for a good excuse to ditch her.

So they did the most stereotypical shit they could come up with, watched Die Hard and ate potato salad and drank too much beer until Jäger passed out on his couch, and then they proceeded to not interact with each other for a long time. The chance never really came up, is the thing, and Bandit did an undercover gig and Jäger was sent somewhere else after and then a year had passed and Bandit asked for his plans for Christmas with a tongue-in-cheek comment, referring to the previous year and expecting a laugh and to be shot down (like Jäger usually does when it comes to social events with people he doesn’t know well, Bandit is aware and stopped inviting him without changing anything else about their conversations which somehow seemed to put Jäger at ease) – except Jäger is the one who suggests they celebrate Christmas like the Japanese and get KFC together.

And as a casual acquaintanceship slowly blooms into something more, they involuntarily learn a variety of things about each other. Bandit’s habit of putting a cigarette behind his ear, losing it almost immediately and complaining loudly while he calculates how much that single cancer stick cost him. Jäger’s preferences in food, which are as cryptic as they are manifold: sometimes he rejects dishes for consistency, sometimes for colour, sometimes for reasons unknown to everyone including him, and Bandit forgets them all the second Jäger divulges them which turns out to be fine as they keep changing from month to month anyway. Jäger tries futilely to convince him not to buy a new motorcycle whenever the urge overtakes him, and they inevitably end up tuning it together.

Eventually, Jäger readily offers advice whenever Bandit describes whoever he’s flirting with at that point, and Bandit talks a little about his night terrors (though not sober, he needs to be dead drunk, meaning the opportunity presents itself quite often), and Jäger laments his difficulties in finding anyone with whom he’s comfortable enough to start a relationship, and the two of them swap work stories that leave them the unhealthy flavour of desolate. But it’s either Bandit’s dry sarcasm or Jäger’s genuine enthusiasm about his current fixation that allows them to move on, and then one year, everyone brags about their perfect Valentine’s date, so naturally, Bandit and Jäger name each other as their Valentine’s. They go ice skating and Bandit ends up with a bloody nose and nearly a finger less than before and they conclude that next time, they’d rather do something more romantic.

It just escalates from there. Though they do spend significant holidays with their families or, rarely, their partners whenever possible, more often than not something comes up and they just celebrate together. By the time they can’t remember how long they’ve been friends they’re leaning into it all the way, sipping sickly-sweet cocktails on Christmas while slagging Hallmark-like films shown on TV, mocking the many advertisements in between to the point where Jäger is red in the face and can’t breathe anymore.

(When Bandit finds out Jäger is following him into Rainbow, he ends up crying. Could be all the gin and tonic, who knows, could be the relief of knowing he’ll have someone who has his back no matter what, but he knows he wouldn’t have done it if he hadn’t been pissed, and he certainly wouldn’t have done it had he known Jäger would mirror him. It’s not – not a sob fest or anything, they don’t cling to each other shedding tears of joy, it’s just annoyingly wet and a pain to wipe away of which he does a bad job of hiding while Jäger gets some tissues for himself, and they quickly change the topic afterwards.)

.

“I don’t actually know which film we’re seeing.” Jäger bounces on his heels in impatience, eyes darting around the lobby trying to find the poster that reveals whichever kitsch Bandit might’ve picked.

“You’re remarkably calm about that.” He’s busy operating the vending machine responsible for dispensing reserved tickets, a blessing as far as Bandit is concerned – he doesn’t need to talk to a human being and the poor cashiers don’t have to deal with his sorry attitude. “When I was sixteen, Ced invited my girlfriend and me to a double date and kept the film a secret. It turned out to be some fucked-up gory horror flick. I think I still have the scars from where my girlfriend clawed into my arm while trying not to scream.”

Jäger scoffs. “I would’ve dumped you for that.”

“Even though it wasn’t my fault?”

“No, because you probably laughed at her and brought it up at every opportunity. You told me how you were at sixteen.”

There’s no arguing there. Bandit grins and snatches the printed-out tickets before Jäger can sneak a peek. “I did, and she did dump me. Now she’s working as an accountant and has like three kids, so who really lucked out in the end?” His companion opens his mouth. “Don’t answer that. Let’s go.”

In true date night fashion, Jäger links his arm with Bandit’s and they meander through the floors together, commenting on a few cardboard cutouts and which one they’d put up in their homes if they had to choose. Eventually, Jäger voices a sudden oh! and yanks Bandit to a halt so abruptly he nearly drops the popcorn they’re going to share. “It’s this one, isn’t it.” He points to a pink-framed, mellow poster picturing a woman beaming up at a man at sunset. “This is the worst one I’ve seen so far. What is it called? Building a Bridge to Cloud Nine? Seriously?”

“That doesn’t sound OSHA-compliant.”

“If it’s about a career-oriented woman who falls in love with a builder, I’m walking out.”

“I bet it’s a really sexy quantity surveyor. His catchphrase is ‘let me survey your quantity’.”

Jäger beams at him with an amused and delighted expression not unlike the one displayed by the actress on the poster, and for a brief second, Bandit is filled with the sudden epiphany of this is exactly what I want. Followed by a derisive mental sneer, of course, because he’s far from being the romantic type – quite the opposite. Still, he can’t deny that he craves intimacy, however shape it eventually takes, and he’s secretly glad he didn’t actually choose a film that would fuel this particular desire.

Why can’t it ever be easy? Why is it always complicated, draining, requiring constant work and mental resources, why is being in a relationship so goddamn hard? Bandit has tried, couldn’t even count the attempts if he wanted, and there was always a wall they hit, sooner rather than later. He’s been accused as selfish, withdrawn, brooding, even his therapist complained about him not opening up enough. He doesn’t see why it’s necessary. There are people in his life who know enough about him so that nobody else needs to, like Blitz. Like Jäger.

Why can’t it ever be as easy as with Jäger? They settle into the loveseat like it’s the most natural thing in the world (and it was only last year that Jäger booked one for kicks for the first time though it turned out to be much more comfortable than they expected), and, because it’s Valentine’s and they have to keep the theme going, Bandit puts an arm around him and Jäger laughs but cuddles up to him and the point is making everyone around them think they’re a couple anyway. The gangly nerd is flexible enough to sit cross-legged and it almost feels like they’re just at home on the couch watching something in private. Very cosy.

The cosiness is only briefly diminished when a series of gruesome deaths happen on screen as a building collapses, impaling someone with a steel bar while someone else’s head gets squished between two concrete blocks. Jäger turns to him with a glint in his eye. “Is this the new Final Destination?!”, he whispers. His delight only grows when Bandit nods with a smirk. “I love them! They’re terrible.”

They are. Bandit figured there’s no better film to watch on the day of love than this schlock and, judging by Jäger’s thinly-veiled excitement, he’s not alone in this opinion. He pushes away his musings about relationships and the likes and leans back to enjoy the grisly spectacle.

.

“- look, just stop me if you don’t care about this stuff, but I need to tell someone how wrong they got it”, Jäger blabbers, still exhilarated from the film, “because buildings don’t work like that. Not the one they chose, anyhow, there’s not just… air between the floors, there’s wiring and -”

Though it’s the last thing Bandit wants to do, he interrupts his companion with a gentle: “I think you should order.” He’s already conveyed his choice of food and drink through a series of subtle pointing, acknowledged by the amused waitress with a nod as they’re both subjected to one of Jäger’s famous rants. It usually takes every new person in the engineer’s life about two to three months before they get to witness one since he watches himself carefully around casual acquaintances, which means most people experience him as a friendly and modest co-worker with no noteworthy eccentricities.

But once he’s thawed enough and one of his current pet peeves is brought up (they change depending on his current fixation), there’s no stopping him. He’s never angry, just passionate, with an overwhelming urge to share his grievances with anyone willing to listen, and they’re always factually flawless. Bandit couldn’t name half the topics on which he became an unwitting expert purely by existing around Jäger for so long.

When he loses his train of thought, however, is distracted or interrupted by anything, Jäger deflates instantly and requires a few sincere prompts to start up again. And as much as Bandit loves listening to him, he is quite hungry.

The peppy waitress, who takes it in stride and seems to find the whole thing extremely cute, helps Jäger pick something with no fuss and promises them a short wait time despite the busy restaurant. Seems like they chose well, the service is fast and friendly and the other customers appear satisfied with their dishes.

Jäger comes to the same conclusion and comments: “Nice place. How’d you find it?”

“They offer a discount for couples today.” Bandit winks at him, making him laugh.

“Do I need to start calling you ‘babe’ now so we don’t strain your wallet too much?”

“Oh I think we’re plenty convincing already.” From the few glances and smiles they’ve earned between entering the restaurant and now, he’s sure they have everyone fooled. “We’re like an old married couple who managed to keep the magic alive and still go on dates together.”

His friend shrugs. “We might as well be.”

Yeah. It’s not that far from the truth with how much time they spend in each other’s presence. “Alright, so back to the structural integrity of an office building”, he changes topics and Jäger’s face lights up instantly.

.

“Don’t be ridiculous”, Bandit grumbles as they walk arm in arm through the brightly-lit and pink-clad shopping centre as a shortcut to his car. It’s already dark and though they’ve got to work the next day, they’ve both decided on watching another film in Jäger’s apartment to conclude their ‘date’.

“I don’t make the rules – I get the bill, I’m the top.”

Outraged, he tries to nudge Jäger into a potted plant but his companion merely spins them around it, laughing. “I’ve always gotten the bill before. Every waiter and waitress we’ve had decided I’m the top, the outlier today means nothing.”

“Maybe she just wanted to show her support of top twinks who are as vocal in bed as they are in conversation.”

“Or she didn’t like me and wanted to piss me off.”

“Or she wanted to introduce you to new opportunities, you know. She figured we’d discuss it and I’d get a chance to say I’ve secretly wanted to top you for years now but didn’t know how to bring it up -”

“Marius, you’re so experienced I’d let you top me in a heartbeat if you asked.”

Jäger is about to retort when a blonde woman with a camera addresses them, and Bandit is almost glad for the distraction. While they’ve talked about plenty of sexual escapades before, it was never really about them and something about it made him… uneasy. As if they’re toeing some kind of line. Which is nonsense, they’ve been close friends for so long now that if anything was going to happen between them, it’d have happened years ago, they know too much about each other.

“Sorry to bother you”, the young woman says, eyeing them with a smile, “I’m a freelance photographer and I’m working on a personal project featuring couples of all races and genders – would it be alright if I took a photo of you two?”

The option of correcting her doesn’t even enter Bandit’s mind. He flashes her a winning grin and drags Jäger to a more favourable position next to him. “Of course, go ahead. Today is probably the perfect day for your project, hm?”

“I don’t really like having my picture taken”, Jäger mutters in protest but lets Bandit move him around anyway.

“Babe, you always look camera-ready.” The two of them exchange a look, Bandit innocently smiling and Jäger with a dark scowl, which is exactly when the woman photographs them. “Wait, take another one, you didn’t catch his beautiful smile.”

Somehow, this does not seem to lighten Jäger’s mood. The woman, being a professional, seems to sense his discomfort with presenting himself for other people and opts for a different tactic: “Do you want to try kissing?”

Hell yeah. This will make for a fantastic story tomorrow and even more in-jokes between the two of them, so Bandit doesn’t even think twice about it. He catches sight of a raised eyebrow and curled lips and assumes Jäger is once again reading his mind, as he always does when Bandit is up to his shenanigans, and then he’s already pulled the other man to his chest and locked lips with him. They barely manage a proper kiss at first because Jäger pulls away as soon as Bandit’s tongue touches him, but when Bandit quietly calls him a chicken, Jäger returns with a vengeance. Fully aware of their audience, they violently snog while refusing to allow each other the upper hand and Bandit has to exert immense self-control not to burst out into laughter. He’d love it if they made it into some sort of exhibition among all kinds of other couples with this.

And then he notices he’s wrapped both arms tightly around the other man, and Jäger’s hands are sneaking into his biker jacket to stroke over his sides, and somehow…

It’s not the same, kissing Jäger versus kissing anyone else, though he’s not really sure why. He’s a good kisser, now that the initial playfighting has turned into something more cooperative, and he smells nice, and the faux fur of his jacket is tickling Bandit’s cheek, and their lips are moving against each other like they’ve done it a thousand times before, and this kiss has lasted a long time already, they should probably stop. No use in milking it any further. They got their material, time to move on.

Jäger’s tongue curls against his own and he’s left wondering why it’s so good to feel him in his arms like this, why it felt so good to spend a whole film with Jäger snuggled up to him, why he couldn’t stop smiling as Jäger pointed out all the flaws afterwards, and there’s really only one explanation for all this, the only one that makes sense, and then somebody wolf-whistles them.

Without a second thought, Bandit breaks the kiss to turn in the direction of the whistle and yell out an instinctual: “Fuck off!” He regrets it instantly as he spots another gay couple grinning at them over their shoulders while walking away. So… no sarcasm, instead probably a show of appreciation. “Damn, they were really hot, too”, he mutters, feeling Jäger shake with silent laughter. The photographer has disappeared entirely; she likely figured they needed some privacy.

And all of a sudden, this is extremely awkward. He turns back and Jäger is still smiling though there’s a decidedly lost quality to his features, as if he didn’t know what to do with himself either.

When the prolonged silence of them hugging and gazing into each other’s eyes helplessly becomes too unbearable, Jäger utters aptly: “Well. Whoops.”

Bandit snorts and tries to hide his burning face in the side of Jäger’s fluffy hood. “Fuck, man.”

“I don’t think I can pretend that didn’t happen”, Jäger mumbles to Bandit’s relief as he feels much the same way. “Were you – did you know -”

“Let’s not talk about it here, alright?”

A nod. “Alright.”

They both take a deep breath before separating and though Bandit misses the physical proximity straightaway, the dull yearning is alleviated by fingers interlacing with his own. If this is what’s been going on with the two of them, without them being aware of it, it would explain a lot of things. He tries his best to calm racing thoughts, not very successfully, and a random one pops into his head, unbidden: if Rook gets wind of this, he’ll have a field day.

“You know”, Jäger says, cheeks red and not looking at him, thumb stroking over the back of Bandit’s hand, “if this turns out to be our first proper date, it was a pretty good one.”

“It was”, Bandit agrees. Now he just needs to play his cards right.

[amagicalunicorn]

Help last night I had a dream where the characters from The Little Mermaid played Rainbow Six Siege, and when I woke up, that was like the only thing I could think about and I just kept giggling to myself like a little girl while I was eating some croissants. 💀💀💀

[unbindingkerberos]

🐤🐤💕

[arijackz]

PICK A CARD: The ☆Glow-Up☆ 2024 Has Planned For you

♠︎ “At bottom every man knows well enough that he is a unique being, only once on this earth; and by no extraordinary chance will such a marvelously picturesque piece of diversity in unity as he is, ever be put together a second time.” ― Friedrich Nietzsche

Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. 

p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4

✧ Pile One ✧ (queen of cups, 5oC rev., 10oC, the chariot, the magician, 4oS)

Release.

➣ The central theme of this glow-up is inner fulfillment. You are on a journey of true self-love. The queen of cups is sitting proudly at the front of the spread. Major water energy here. You are unraveling emotional trauma down to your roots and reevaluating past attachments and burdens with the six of cups.

➣ I picture floodgates opening, allowing all of the pent-up emotional turmoil to release and finally free you on a deep psychophysiological level. You released something, an attachment or mindset that was set in motion during your formative years that was hindering your ability to hold compassion for yourself.

➣ Shuffling my music, "Daddy Issues" by the Neighbourhood came on. I also saw the hierophant while shuffling the cards. You experienced a lot of undervaluing and emotional neglect in your home. Emotions in your home were taboo and possibly even punished.

➣ I feel like the people around you growing up, were either always dissatisfied with you in some way or made you feel small. Since this is a group reading, it is hard to word this without excluding a large chunk of the audience, but some of you grew up in a home situation where any form of outward self-love or expression was met with a lot of negativity and ridicule. 

➣ This forced you into hiding your true self which groomed you into a mental space full of self-criticism and doubt. In your mind, you were unwanted or inherently broken in some way and deserved less. The way you were treated created deep emotional wounds in your young psyche which made it hard to feel satisfaction within yourself or with the outer world.

➣ With the five of cups, I get the sense that you had felt you were in a desert and unable to fill any of your cups so to speak. Baby, that’s coming to an end. The ten of cups is at the center of your spread with a big ass RAINBOW touching corner to corner. The drought is over. The dark days are over. The sun is shining and you can taste hope again. 

➣ On this self-love journey, you are currently grieving (releasing) a degraded perception of yourself along with any beliefs that inhibit you from feeling good about your character.

➣ You are realizing just how enough you are and flushing out all of the poison that was crammed in your head about being inadequate. You are freeing yourself from the chains of feeling unworthy of a good life.

➣ You will find true beauty in every corner of you. Beauty in your laugh, beauty in how you dance, beauty in how you take care of yourself, beauty in what you care about, inner beauty that cannot be taken from you or scaled down. You will nurture your inner world, thus adding color to your outer world.

➣ During this major life-changing period, your view of reality will flip in a way you never thought imaginable. Life will feel worth living again. Your music will move you more and the swift pass of wind will invigorate you with new ideas for creative projects that will propel you forward to lifelong prosperity.

➣ I’m hearing 🎵 “… I'm so, I'm so, I'm so, I'm so, I'm so proud of you” from Make Me Proud by Drake. Congratulations babe, you just broke a fucking karmic cycle. 10 of cups, following the 5 of cups??? You have graduated from a dark knight of the soul and are now approaching new, abundant energy.

➣ The universe is proud of you. Your ancestors are proud of you. Your inner child is proud of you. Your God(s) is proud of you. All of the cells in your body are proud of you. You have released something cosmically within you. Please hug yourself and have a good cry because you are doing something you never believed you could. Your hopes and dreams are unfolding.

➣ Get ready to make your daydream your reality.  With the chariot, you’re prepping to TAKE AWWFF BABY. The release of this blockage has raised your energetic vibration and is ushering bountiful opportunities into your life, new passions, new ideas, and new connections. 

➣ Your newfound faith in yourself is going to give you the courage to go out and experience life. Most importantly you will find satisfaction in the mundane. Every frame of your day will be brighter and feel better. You have gone from 5 empty cups to an eternally flowing fountain. Take the time to thank yourself for all of the hard work you put in to get here. 

➣ Advice: Extend yourself grace. During this period, you will have enlightening moments that will unlock pieces of the puzzle surrounding your trauma and a lot more will make sense and become easier to process. 

➣ However, as the flawed humans we are, we tend to make sense of something and then turn around and beat ourselves up for not realizing it sooner. Or, minimizing our pain and criticizing our past selves for not doing more about it because hindsight truly is a dirty dawg. No that is not how it works. 

➣ That’s like when you were in school and the teacher would start bullying you for not understanding a subject. YOU HAVE A DEGREE??? I’m fourteen?? Of course, you can say it's simple when you have already “graduated” and learned from it, not when you’re in the middle of experiencing it.  You gained clarity during this tower moment and can now see the bigger picture and liberate yourself. 

➣ Younger you fought to make your way through the fog and deserves grace because you would not be here today without your younger self’s perseverance. Forgive yourself for the time it took to get here and see the beauty in your evolution throughout the journey.

➣ Also, drink plenty of water and get rest!! It’s Pisces season, and a Pisces new moon is coming too. Most of your trauma will unravel while you’re unconscious. Please get plenty of rest and hydrate. This pile has Cancer/4th house energy written all over it. Mother yourself during this period. Clean your room, make your favorite foods, watch cheesy movies, and splurge on special skin care. Pamper yourself. okay I'm done. KISSES.

"My consciousness has outgrown this vessel"

✧ Pile Two ✧ (4ofS, the tower, the wheel of fortune, the emperor, the lovers, judgment, 7ofW, ace of wands)

Life's gotta always be messing with me (you wanna see the light) Can't they chill and let me be free? (So do I) Can't I take away all this pain? (You wanna see the light) I try to every night, all in vain, in vain

Justice.

➣ I asked for a song to explain the central theme of your reading and I got "Freak on a Leash" by Korn. I get the feel that one of the main struggles of your life path is unfair judgment. People are quick to create a false narrative of you and run off with it.

➣ If you read my last PAC, “What is most alluring about you”, you may have chosen pile 2 or 3. With the seven of wands, you are constantly under attack.

➣ Take what resonates but I see a few scenarios. People may be quick to paint you as a bad person without getting to know you. Your public reputation was heavily influenced by rumors from people who intentionally wanted you to be disliked. People will take something small, blow it out of proportion, and try to impose it as a character flaw. Oh, you don’t eat the crust on your sandwich? How wasteful! There are starving kids out there, you’re so inconsiderate!! and then everyone else in the room who claims to not like you (but are truly your biggest fans) are oooing, ahhing, and egging that hating ass bitch on. 

➣ I’m seeing a bus. You may have been betrayed and thrown under the bus a few times before. This is the pile of my Lilith placements. Your power is your ability to garner attention, both good and bad. You attract a lot of envy. The ugliest emotion, in my opinion. It’s partners in crime with greed. 

➣ For some of you, I am getting the message that all of this underserved hate has sent you into a dark mental space and driven you to take an attempt on your life. And if you like my messages or my readings please believe me when I say this,

 I know you are meant for greatness. I picked up on your energy and you found this reading for a reason. Just like the Universe and everything within it, we go through cycles. And I know this is a long, painful cycle but it will come to an end and you will get out of this darkness. From the bottom of my heart, I feel your importance and I am happy you are here to share this moment with me. Keep swimming, I support you, the Universe supports you. The sun is rising and is offering you a new beginning.

➣ In this dark period in your life, the negative attention may have outweighed the good. I see a theme of being outcasted and isolated. Severe bullying. For some, even abuse. Like pile one, you have gone into hermit mode and isolated yourself from the unfair judgment of the world. 

➣ But head up muffin, the scales are balancing, and the wheel of judgment is turning in your favor. Following the wheel of fortune, you got the fucking emperor!!! You will come out of this on top. The people who kicked you while you were down will have to swallow their pride and kneel to shine your shoes while you sit rightfully on the throne. The public scrutiny you face needs to balance itself out karmically.

➣ Think Megan Thee Stallion. I won’t bring up any of her business, but if you've been keeping up with social media, there is a good chance you are well aware of it. That woman has gone through the unimaginable, one traumatic event following the other all while facing an obscene amount of public scrutiny. She had to go into solitary and off the internet to rebuild her life. But guess what??? MY GIRL STAYS ON TOP>>>>> After all the bullshit she endured, she’s coming out on the top of the charts, brand deals with major conglomerates, she is the people’s princess.

➣ That’s going to be you. You have dealt with a lot of injustice in your life, now you’re coming out of your “rehabilitation” and all of the people who spent the better half of their day attempting to tear you down will have to watch your rise like a phoenix and fucking weep.

➣ People were constantly taking from you , now the universe (whatever you want) is preparing to give you the power to replace what you have lost tenfold. Ace of wands, I see that life is handing you the metaphorical talking stick. The king stick. You are being blessed with a flame in your belly (activated solar plexus chakra) and the chance to completely reinvent yourself. 

➣ There is a lot of king and authority messages here, the ball is in your court. You are being released from the shackles of public perception and these next few months will be filled with inspiration and willpower to prove everybody wrong and showcase your strength.  I feel like a good chunk of this group will get chances to be in positions of authority or importance. 

➣ This is going to sound silly but I got this exaggerated imagery of a mean person calling you poor and ugly but the next year you drive past them in a Bugatti with their sugar boo in the passenger seat. HELLOOOO.

➣ With the lovers, I see you are coming in union with what is rightfully yours. In the grand scheme of cosmic law, you are owed good fortune and it is on its way. With the tower, I see an explosion and people fleeing. You’re going to pop out stronger than ever and that’s going to scare people cause whatever superiority they got from painting you as inferior is going to blow away and their true scummy nature is going to be seen. 

➣ After this, there may even be people who pretend to be your friends and claim they supported you all along. Have faith in your discernment. I have faith in your discernment. It will all be okay pookie.

➣ Advice: Just keep swimmin' my love. <3

"The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth."

✧ Pile Three ✧ (queen of wands, knight of pentacles, 6oC, page of pentacles, 10oW, 3oW, the hermit)

It's in the reach of my arms The span of my hips, The stride of my step, The curl of my lips. I'm a woman Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That's me.

Awaken.

➣ Regardless if you’re a woman, a man, somewhere in between, or none of the above, you are approaching a newfound understanding of your sexuality. For some of you, it is a full-blown sexual awakening. 

➣ Some people here are realizing their sex appeal, others are coming to terms with their lack of sexual attraction, some are learning what they like in sex and what they’re attracted to. Yes bae, all of it; the whole spectrum of sexual exploration is here.

➣ There is an emphasis on attraction to yourself. You will see a huge shift in your physical appearance. Yes, your style will change but the main reason for this glow up is because you shifted the perception of yourself into a higher light. You’re allowing yourself to feel desirable and embracing the aspects of yourself you once shunned. 

➣You will carry yourself in a higher regard and this will open doors for you. Look into the mirror and give yourself a nice smack on the ass. Your self-esteem is sexy.

➣ Pile one is on a watery emotional self-love journey, this pile is all about fire and finding out where sexuality and passionate relations fit into your life. 5th house (flings, passions, hobbies), 8th house (sex and rebirth), 9th house (adventure, connecting with your soul tribe).

➣ I asked for a song to tie up this message in a cute little bow and I got the 639 HZ frequency. This is the frequency of love, radiation, and positive energy. It is the frequency of the heart. The heart chakra is opening significantly during this glow-up.

➣ You are opening yourself to adventure and sending a high vibe out into the ether. I see a sunflower and the queen of wands is decked out in bright yellow, you are stepping into the spotlight and attracting a lot of attention. I would say Venusian attention because the aura here is very romantic and collaborative. It's like the universe is spraying you with extremely magnetic pheromones and having opportunities run at you.

➣ You are going to get a lot of offers. Love offers, career offers, party invitations, you’re going to be involved with exclusive circles. You are realizing your self-worth and now you’re attracting things and people who also see value in you.

➣ This isn’t going to resonate with everyone, but I sense that for a few of you, there is going to be a reconnection with a past lover or a past friend from your childhood (or just the past in general). I also sense a theme of using your attractiveness and people’s attraction to you to your benefit. Somehow monetize your appeal. 

➣ It is like you finally released your ugly duckling mentality and you woke up and went, “WOAH, what can I do with this???” Lmao you discovered you’re an undercover member of the pretty privilege club.

➣ Yeah, with the page of pentacles and the ten of wands, I’m seeing an entire life path open up for you. Your passion and fiery energy will get you places, and you’ll go on adventures exploring your opportunities with that. Some of you will even become spicy content creators or do some risque sex work. Orrrrrr just venture into a career path you weren’t courageous enough to do before. 

➣ You’re a giant magnet energetically right now (I mean c’mon, 639 HZ???) you’re attracting a lot of romantic suitors. But watch out, they’re not all good suitors.

➣ I pulled another card and got Justice in reverse. Some people will try to get over on you. Also, the person on the justice card looked strangely untrustworthy when I flipped it over. Once again, practice your discernment.

➣ Your romantic and passionate life is taking off and it's going to be extremely exciting, especially if you are coming out of a period of stagnancy. However, with the 3 of wands and the hermit, the cards remind you to remain centered and plan bigger. Your passion, attractiveness, and sexuality will amount to more than hookups and shallow relationships if you invest in yourself wisely.

➣ You are unlocking an advantage you have in this lifetime. Open yourself to career endeavors, social networking, and creating a strong foundation for your talents and hobbies. Yes, date and have fun but don’t spend all of your energy in one place. Your attention and your energy are your greatest currencies.

➣ To expand on the hermit, I need to emphasize you are going to be getting a LOT of attention soon (I’m getting Sun-conjunct-Venus energy, is that in your natal chart or is there a transit with Venus right now or something?). You will receive more eyes on you than average and this might overwhelm you and push you into hermit mode.

➣ That is okay, let life flow. During those moments to yourself, dream big because you have the power to pull your dreams into your reality.  You will meet lifelong friends during this period. I am sensing a power trio for some of you. 

➣ Advice: To wrap up, we all know attractiveness is social currency, and you are coming into a great deal of social wealth baby. But please spend it wisely and do not lose yourself in the crowd. Keep up with your self-work and take introspective breaks away from people so you can figure out how to best utilize this awakening for you. 

➣ You look really good in red currently. Red hair. Red lips. Red clothes. Red jewelry. The color red is bringing you a lot of abundance. Okay bye. MUAH. <3

"I said mom, I am a rich man."

✧ Pile Four ✧ (page of swords, knight of cups, wheel of fortune, temperance, 7oP, the devil rev.)

Ascension.

➣ OMG I’m so sorry, I wrote a novel for the other piles but this one is going to be short. Maybe you were drawn to another pile mainly and this is your secondary pile. BUT IT’S SHORT BECAUSE ITS FUCKING AWESOME. 

➣ The song I channeled for you was named “Elniño Prodigo” and I want to say the artist is Love Record but I'm not too sure. This means child prodigy. When I was laying out your cards, I got this sense of anticipation and impatience. Theeeennn BOOM the wheel of fortune, temperance, and the seven of pentacles smack me in the face.

➣ Oh me oh my, you are chilling in the universe’s womb just BAKIN’ being prepped for a complete rebirth. You are a prodigy, you are not meant to live an ordinary life, you are being prepared for a unique journey. I know this is going to sound hard to believe because I feel like with this pile, a large portion of your life was spent in waiting.

➣ Do you feel like you are a late bloomer? If so, trust me, it is for a reason. Whatever you build in this lifetime will be built slowly and have a solid foundation because your legacy is meant to withstand the test of time and last long after you leave this Earth. This period you’ve spent waiting is you getting your ducks in a row and sowing your seeds for the next evolution of you. I said something like this in my last pac, if that's you, heyyyyyyy i’m glad your energy stuck around, i love it.

➣ Do you have Pisces or 12th House placements mixed with Saturn significance? Whatever this glow-up exactly holds for your future is a secret. It’s the universe’s divine surprise to you. I did not get any energy detailing exact events, just something big in the works behind the scenes is making its way to you. 

➣If you’re reading this pick a card there’s a good chance you’re spiritually attuned and can feel this cosmic shift happening. Something about your energy is so excited. I imagine a hyper dog being held back by a leash because it's not quite time yet.

➣ If you’re in a period where you’re not seeing any life progression and it's causing you anxiety, relax, you are on the right track and you are where you need to be. You have not wasted time, time really isn’t even fucking real. Everything is moving slowly for a reason. 

➣In this “boring” period you are meant to tap into your inner world and curate what you want your life to look like. Create vision boards, imagine your future hobbies, involve things that mentally stimulate you, keep the spark of curiosity in your life, and nurture your inner dreamer. 

➣ You are connecting with your sensitivity at this time, finding the sweet spot where your mind and heart meet, and letting it fuel your zeal for life. Get these thoughts on paper. Journal them, draw them, sing it, and call this energy into the 3D. Your life is about to have a complete 180. Maintain faith.

➣ You’re seeing a lot of synchronicities currently. Animal synchronicities and repeating numbers(111,444,222,1144,1414). You’ll find strangely personal messages in music and media. Maybe you’re seeing shapes repetitively pop up around you in your environment, like stars or eyes. 

➣ Patience is a life lesson for this pile, there is a lesson to be learned in the stillness of your life. You are mentally restless right now, slow your body down and try out parasympathetic regulation techniques to calm your racing thoughts. Go swimming, take a class, try out a new hobby. In this “womb” era, enjoy your last moments of stillness because your life turns up a notch. I’m not even getting rebirth, I’m getting BIRTH. No matter your age, your life is truly beginning in this new season.

➣ Advice: I see a lot of clouds. I see angel symbolism. You’re ascending. You’re shedding old skin, letting go of dead weight, and you’re growing wings, getting ready to experience life to the fullest. Maintain hope that your life will pick up pace and become exciting again. 

➣ Find peace in this waiting period. Listen to bird sounds!!! They are going to calm your mind and elevate you emotionally. You’re growing your wings and getting ready to take off like a bird, you should learn from the best. Okay, I love you, the universe loves you, MUAH <3.

"Your sim has gone stir-crazy!"

watching tumblr shit on my images in real time is just...

On a lighter note, I know some of these piles are heavy, I posted my first reading two days ago, and the support I received has brought so much joy into my life. I love doing this, if you like this me doing this, I'll do this forever. I am eternally grateful for all of you likes, reblogs, and comments <3

Also, some of these piles are connected, feel free to poke around and pick up on messages spread out for you. okay, I'm done. kisses! MUAH

[zoe-oneesama]

I finished "Kira Kira Pre Cure A La Mode" like a month ago, and I have brain rot that makes a Miraculous Ladybug AU out of anything with an animal theme so here we go. I would label this more as a crossover tbh and even thought of my own rules to make it coexist in the Miraculous Ladybug Universe.

Ko-fi | Patreon

To start, they break a few Miraculous Rules: the Miraculouses themselves have no resemblance to the animal they're imitating, and their powers are closer to their Pre Cure ones, which are baking/cooking based. And the reason I have for this is that these are technically not Miraculouses and technically not kwamis.

They aren't the "Miraculous of [x]" representing a concept, they're actually fairies who desire to be heroes. As such, they're actually at odds with Kwamis and there's a bit of a feud between them - the Kwamis have always worked alongside humans and see the Fairies as reckless and violating nature's laws, while the Fairies see the Kwamis as hording all the fun and not even trying to bridge the gap between them.

I imagine akumas would start showing up in Japan in Ichigozaka, bringing out the six PreCure Miraculouses, and they'd eventually follow them back to Paris to have a showdown with Hawkmoth AND the existing heroes. While the kwamis and fairies are having it out, the humans are meeting in the middle.

Ichika uses Whipp to become Crème Fouettée (Whipped Cream), a Bunny Hero with the ability "Batter Up", which captures the enemy in a giant cake. It has the side effect of being able to extract an akuma, but it can't purify it.

Himari uses Flann to become Swirl Caramel, a Squirrel Hero with modified clacker/rope darts as a weapon and the ability "Cherry Bomb", which is pretty self explanatory.

Aoi uses Aisuu to become Glace Bleue (Blue Ice), a Lion Hero with the ability "Gelato Shake", which encases her fist in a block of ice for even more painful punchs.

Yukari uses Cookie to become Kitty Macaron, a Cat Hero with a spiked yoyo and the ability "Cat Scratch" which inflates the size of the yoyo and increases their strength, making them able to scratch through anything.

Akira uses Chocco to Chien Rouge (Red Dog), a Dog Hero with the ability "Chocolate Armose" which creates a chocolate shield.

Ciel "uses" RinRin to become Blande Volante (Flying Bands), a Pegasus Hero with the ability "Kiracle Rainbow", which fully purifies the enemy and all of the damage caused during a fight. (If you know you know)

[luveline]

𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐧 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

things aren't the way you planned coming home with your newborn, but you have eddie there to lean on when things get hard (and an unlimited supply of 'munson-style' hugs). requested here. infatuated dad!eddie x mom!reader, 3k.

cw post partum recovery, reader is suffering from some symptoms of post partum depression

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

"You're sure you can manage?" Wayne asks, his voice buzzing down the line.

Eddie peers out of the kitchen into the living room quietly. You're sitting on the sofa in a shape that can't be comfortable considering your recent stitches, the baby on your thighs where you've brought them together, your hands delicately posed on either side of his head. 

"I think so," Eddie says, answering Wayne's questions with honesty. "She's feeling a little better today." 

"It's hard, Eds. You take care of her and call me if you need help, okay? I'm proud of you. Both of you." 

It catches Eddie off guard for a moment. He's done enough crying lately, clearing his throat to say, "Thanks, Wayne. Call me tomorrow." 

"You call me, I don't wanna wake anyone if you're sleeping." 

They say their goodbyes. Eddie leans against the kitchen doorway to spy on you and the baby. Babies cry more than he ever could've imagined despite the warnings, but it's quiet, too. There are moments of peacefulness like this one breaking apart the chaos. 

You're whispering something. Eddie stands very still, wishing the dishwasher would magically silence itself. He strains to hear you. 

"I love you," you say. "Sorry I'm tired, honey. I promise I'll be better. You're so beautiful." 

Eddie bites his cheeks, wondering if his family (his family!) aim to make him cry and little else tonight. He gives himself a look in the mirror magnet on the fridge framed by a We Love Michigan border, rainbows and cute elk surrounding something less pretty. His hair is frizzy but that's nothing new, greasy at the top and dry at the bottom. He scrapes it back into a scrappy bun and wipes the oil from his face with his sleeves. He's in dire need of a shower. 

Resigned, he steps out of the kitchen, new socks slippery on old linoleum before finding stability on the crush of carpet in need of a vacuuming in the living room. You look up and bless him with a smile.

You've had a bad case of the baby blues, though the midwife assured him that was normal, and not to worry unless it continued past the first few weeks. 

Well, Eddie will worry. Any depression you experience breaks his heart, no matter the cause, and no matter how temporary it may be. Just 'cos a cut might heal doesn't mean it didn't hurt when you got it. 

"How do you feel?" he asks cautiously. 

You make a face that he knows precedes a lie. "Don't worry about me." 

He sits on the arm to look down at the baby —his baby, his son— in your hold, your face moving immediately to rest on his thigh. 

"I'm okay, teddy," you say.

"How about you?" he asks the baby, taking his hand gently. 

The baby doesn't open his eyes nor answer the question, well and truly asleep. 

"Do you think Charlie was the right name?" you ask, stroking his small face lightly. 

"If we hate it, we can just call him Wayne." 

Eddie's out of this world lucky that you'd liked the name and loved him enough to name the baby after his uncle. Charlie Wayne Munson, born six pounds and two ounces, the smallest baby they saw all week in Hawkins General. 

"He looks more like a Wayne than a Charlie," you say, rubbing your cheek into Eddie's sweatpants. 

"He's so fucking beautiful," Eddie says, getting his hand behind your shoulders. He gives your back a loving rub, up and down the whole stiff length of it. "Would you relax? Or tell me what's wrong? Please?" 

"Nothing's wrong… Look how perfect he is, I'd be a freak to act like something was wrong," you say, the exhale of your words warming his leg. 

Eddie rubs his hand up with a tad more roughness until the cinch between your shoulders has flattened. 

"You're having a biological reaction," Eddie says, leaning down to press his lips to the top of your head. "Don't feel bad about feeling bad, sweetheart. This is a physical thing, that's all it is. You're not a freak for feeling wobbly." 

You relax even more, pad of your thumb swiping Charlie's smooth cheek. 

"Want me to make you feel better?" he asks.

"How?" 

"I'm not sure yet. I was thinking we'd make a list. Starting with a hug, quickly followed by something amazing to eat before Wayne wakes up." 

"Charlie," you correct with a small laugh.

"Is there a nickname for Charlie?" Eddie asks. "What are we gonna call him? Lee?"

"We'll think of something," you promise. 

Eddie isn't worried about it. He figures there's at least five years of nickname time to get one that sticks. For now, he has a list to make and things to do, and the first is making sure you're as well as you can be. He starts with the hug, pulling what you want for dinner from you one soft kiss to your temple at a time. Chicken pot pie? Ramen noodles with a fried egg on top? Sesame chicken? Triple cheeseburgers? 

You can't decide. Eddie chooses breakfast for dinner. It won't take long —he can fry the sausage, eggs, turkey bacon and toast in one pan. 

He keeps the door open to watch you, though nothing is actively wrong. You're deflated now rather than tense, petting and fawning over the baby as much as you can without waking him up.  

"Just as handsome as your dad," you say. 

It's a lovely sentiment but Charlie does not approve. He blinks awake, signified by your saccharine, "Hi, baby boy," followed by ten seconds of awe-filled cooing. Eddie's frying some bread in the pan but dinner can wait, he wants to see the baby with his eyes open again. 

By the time Eddie reaches the couch, he's crying. 

You move him carefully into a rock-a-bye hold and shush him. "It's alright," you say. 

"He sounds like you." 

"What?" you ask between shushes, hand tapping a slow and gentle rhythm into Charlie's swaddle. 

"He sounds like you when he cries," Eddie insists. 

Not your pained screams a few days ago nor your heart wrenching tears when you're feeling at your worst, but your hormonal sobbing. Like when you saw the commercial about the new 'shoplifters exposed' program on CBS that featured an old lady who stole a tangerine from the grocery store and got arrested despite her having alzheimers. She didn't mean to, Eddie, why would they make her cry like that? In fairness, it was a very upsetting commercial, but you cried for four hours, and for days afterward your eyes would well with tears and he'd know exactly what you were thinking of. 

"When you're on your period," he explains. "When you know you wouldn't usually cry." 

"You think so?" you ask. 

"I think the solution is the same, too." 

You nod your agreement. "He's hungry." 

You and Eddie feed the baby with varying levels of success. Charlie doesn't wanna latch even though it's a bottle teat, causing some confusion —is he not hungry? Is he cold? No, sweetheart, he's not cold, he's got two blankets and the thermostat's at 68 Fahrenheit. Maybe he needs a new diaper? You check. His diaper's clean. 

You're looking more and more defeated by the second. Eddie sits beside you to give your knee a reassuring squeeze. Babies are hard to look after, but he knows you'll both grow into it. You're exhausted from nine long months and a turbulent half day stint of pushing and crying and turning the bones in his hands into powder, your hormones are going crazy, and you're having a tough time. This won't be your forever feeling (though if it were to last, Eddie would stay at your side through that, too, that's not a question). 

"You know what else works when you're not feeling good?" Eddie asks, offering his arms. He isn't some muscled herculean shape, but when you hand Charlie over, his arms look strong. Capable. Holding Charlie feels just as perfect as holding you. "A Munson-style cuddle," he finishes, trying to speak to his wailing son in that same bubbly parentese you've started talking in. 

Eddie did a lot of talking to your bump while you were pregnant, but he was usually just trying to make you laugh. There were times where he'd lay with his nose against your hip and his arm under the bump, wondering about moments like this. What was the baby going to look like? What colour would his eyes be? What will it feel like to hold the baby in his arms? 

Charlie feels lighter than Eddie first prophesied. Small. He has eyes like yours rather than eyes like his and he couldn't love it more. 

Eddie takes the bottle when you offer it and sandwiches the baby to his chest. He doesn't want to condescend you, doesn't want to shoo you off, but Charlie's crying around the bottle and you look veritably miserably. 

"Do you wanna go and make sure the food isn't on the turn?" he asks. When he realised the baby wasn't going to go down easy again he put your plates on a baking sheet and put the oven on low to keep it warm. 

You hesitate. "Are you okay?" 

"I don't know. I think so, sweetheart. We're barely a room away, alright?" 

He's called you sweetheart more since the birth of your son than ever before, which is insane; Eddie's called you sweetheart likely twice a day since the day you met. That's a whole lot of sweethearts. 

With the baby's changing mood comes a change in the weather. Eddie pats his little back, a quiet thump thump thump, while rain lashes the closed windows. The baby finally decides he's hungry, and the mood turns from frenetic to ambient almost immediately. 

"You make sure you eat if you're hungry!" Eddie calls to you. 

"Are you sure?" 

"I think…" He drifts off, distracted by Charlie's long eyelashes, the way they skim under his eyes and the tiny noises he makes as he suckles. "Aw, baby," he murmurs, "good job. I knew you were hungry. You sounded just like your mom." He can't help grinning. Eddie is really talking to his kid right now, his real life baby. "You made her super emotional, but you're her whole world now. You're mine, too, obviously, but I'm cooler than this." He sighs. "No. I'm not. This is the coolest thing ever." 

"What do you think?" you ask softly. 

Eddie looks up. You're standing at the door, staring at them like they're made of sparkling diamond, every inch precious. 

"Right. I think that we're gonna have to start eating when we can. Wayne never had a baby, but he said I was bad enough as a teenager, and Steve said he's lucky if he gets to eat a hot meal some days." 

"Steve does have three," you say, frowning. "We really can't eat together anymore?" 

You ask like you're less bothered than you are. Like a gimmicky Oh, man. Eddie knows it hides a real worry, and right now he's trying to give you the world on a silver platter, so he dots a little kiss on Charlie's head and says warmly into his skin, "No, that's not true. You're going to be such a good kid, me and mom will be eating together all the time. Isn't that right?" 

Eddie looks at you with his head still tilted down. "I wanna eat together, okay? Everything's changing, but dinner doesn't have to. I just wanted you to eat 'cos you left half of your waffles at breakfast." 

"I can wait." 

"Then let's wait. You wanna come and hold him?" 

"No, he's settled. I don't wanna mess it up again." 

"You didn't," Eddie says, firm and sweet at once. "Sweetheart, come here. You didn't mess up, okay? I'm serious, come and sit with me." 

You hesitate in the way. You're still unsteady on your feet despite the few days you've had to recuperate. Though your hair is cleaner than his it certainly isn't clean, nor are the clothes you've pulled on. Eddie read up and asked around on what would be comfiest for you, debating nightgowns and silk pyjamas at length, but all you've wanted to wear is a hoodie you've had since you were a teenager and a pair of sweatpants with fraying cuffs. He loves it —you look like an adorable dork. 

Your stomach visibly churns. Eddie thinks you might chuck up, is already pulling the baby to his chest to place in the bassinet when you take a short, quiet gasp for air. 

"Sorry, I don't know why I feel so on and off. I know it's just hormones. I promise I feel happy– I feel happy–" You gesture an open palm toward him. "He's gorgeous, Eds, he's everything I wanted and so much more, I just– I just feel like crying and I don't know why," you confess, blinking to suppress tears, shifting your weight uncomfortably from foot to foot. 

Eddie detests seeing you this uneasy, and he swoops in to correct it. 

"Come here," he says again, no hands free to hold out to you. He hopes his voice is inviting enough. 

You shrink into yourself. "I'm being weird." 

"I like when you're weird. I kind of love it. I don't think we'd be in the mess if I didn't love it." 

"It's a mess?" you ask. 

"It's perfect." 

You finally smile, creeping around the bassinet and the needlessly baby proofed coffee table to sit on the edge of the couch with him. Charlie makes a sound in the back of his throat. 

"Hear that? He knows you're here," Eddie murmurs, making room for you hopefully. 

You sidle up to his thigh and lean on his arm, careful not to knock his elbow. You watch Charlie drink his bottle for as long as there's milk left, two ounces knocked back like it's nothing. 

Eddie eases the teat from Charlie's lips carefully. With care but a clumsy imprecise manoeuvre, he lays Charlie down in the bassinet. He has a lot of hair for such a small baby, enough to stroke back from his forehead, soft under Eddie's fingertips. 

"He's really, really beautiful," Eddie says quietly. 

"I know," you say, an anxious hand on your cheek. "I can't believe something as good as him could come from someone like me." 

Eddie stands between your legs, resting a loving hand at the slope of your shoulder. "Why would you ever think something like that?" he asks, his voice as soft as it's ever been, but with a smile in case you don't want to talk about it any more. 

"He's… I'm just not…" 

Eddie gives you time. You've needed it ever since you went into labour, time to piece things together.

"I really thought I was ready," you say, looking up at him with a pinch between your eyebrows.

He brings his hand up to cup your face. You don't lean into it. "Alright, I'm going to talk for a little while, 'n' I know you won't agree with everything I'm saying but I need you to know that this is how I really feel, yeah? Buckle up." Eddie bends down, unafraid of embarrassing himself because it's you. "I know you think these feelings are your fault… that this is some failing, like you're–" He drops his voice to a whisper, "Like you're being a bad mom already, but it's not the truth." 

You startle at being read so easily. "Eds," you mumble. 

"We knew this might be how you felt afterward, the midwife talked and talked about baby blues and you said–" 

"I said I couldn't understand how I'd ever feel sad once he was born," you say, looking at his neck rather than his face. 

"And that's fine, you know? You're not a bad person for thinking it would be perfect and then changing your mind." 

"But he is perfect," you say. 

Eddie rubs your cheek. "He's perfect, but this is hard. Being a new mom with your stitches and your aching tummy and all the gross fluids–" 

You laugh through a groan, pressing your eye into his hand.

He leaps to keep it going. "This isn't how you expected to feel, but that's okay. There's nothing to be ashamed of. Cry if you feel like crying and don't feel fucking guilty about it, this sucks. You had to do the world's most tumultuous campaign for the last nine months and suddenly you're standing at the start of a new one that takes up, like, a gazillion pages with half health and an equally useless companion." 

Your lips press into a thin line, but your eyes are soft and bright despite their obvious fatigue. You bracelet his wrist with your fingers and push his hand further into your cheek. 

"My dork," you murmur. 

"You understand it, don't you? Makes you an even bigger dork."

You nudge your nose into his palm. "I understand. Thank you, honey." 

Eddie's not done. "You said you don't know how something good like him could come from someone like you? I don't think bad was a possibility." 

Your second thank you is better. The first wasn't inauthentic, but this one sounds as though you genuinely believe him. Eddie bows down into a crouch to wrap his arms around you, the majority of his weight on your shoulders and avoiding your sore lower region, and the entirety of his love pressed to your cheek, a long, mindless kiss. 

"I love you," you say. 

Eddie tucks his head against yours, ignoring his protesting knees. "I love you, too." 

Your food turns to dry mulch by the time you remember it in the oven. You're too distracted by Eddie's hug, his offering for a shoulder massage, and the subsequent second hug that ensues, your back to his chest, dozing in the sanctuary of his arms. Munson-style cuddles are his expertise.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

thank you for reading!

[wastedr00k]

montagne x reader ; limit - photosynthesis -

just like a plant, Giles grew. 

as his heart and body changed, so did his feelings towards everyone and he soon grew a ‘hero complex’ , thinking he has to protect everyone in the face of danger, everyone except you. as he grew, you shrank. the more the shined the duller you become. and yet, the more he took from you, the deeper your love for him.

as the scythe he carried grew heavier and larger, the smaller your wings span shrunk, the more feathers you lose.

but you didn’t mind, you were here to support him in the spotlight, not steal it from him. you didn’t mind that the feathers on your wings has long fallen off from the arguments and from his growth. it was almost comical, the way you used your own shine to nurture him at the cost of yourself, they’ll grow back anyway. it was what you owed him after all.

but it’s worth it right?

it was worth it watching him fall in love with someone else, to watch him go crawling back to him every time, to watch him turn away whenever she kissed another guy, to watch him destroy himself while you, oh foolish you, kept giving all that you have left. 

because he’ll come to his senses one day, right?

“you know what she’s doing, stop turning away from it Giles.” you yelled as he continued to run with all his might, in hopes that he’ll forget.

struggling to keep up with him, your hands always seem to be mere inches away from him. “Giles! please stop, you know that it isn’t worth it, she isn’t worth it!” 

halting in his steps, he turned around to face you with nothing but anger in his eyes, “she isn’t worth it? how dare you say that?” he thundered towards you, “you know who isn’t worth it? you!”

you stopped as your hands went up to clutch your chest in shock, tears already welling up in your eyes as your feathers started to sting again. but it didn’t matter to Giles, he was taking his anger out on you, ruthlessly.

“you did nothing for me my whole life!”

did he forget when you held him in your arms and wings as he cried for the whole night after finding out she slept with someone else for months behind his back?

it’s okay, he’s just stressed out

“you were never there for me in any way!”

did he forget when you watched with pride as he collected his graduation certificate, or that time when you pushed him out of the way of an on coming car, or when you took notes for him while he slept during his classes?

it’s okay, a little more and it’ll be over

“you were nothing but a burden to me in my whole damn life!”

were you a burden when you lend him a shoulder to cry on, when you gave him advice, when you told him that it was all going to be okay?

it’s okay, this will help him feel better

and finally, silence.

Giles’s chest heaved as he kept his brows knotted, fist clenched and teeth gritted and feet firmly planted into the ground. 

it was such a contrast to you, you who were floating above the ground, hands clutching each other, eyes widened with tears. your wings are now nothing but ashes, blackened from the venom that Giles spat at you.

as the both of you continued this silent stand off, you decided to back down, like you always do. with his scythe as your neck, you bowed in defeat, “i’m sorry, my dear.”

still fuming from his rage, still too prideful to lower his scythe and apologize, he turned away from you and continued to run, knowing he’ll have to make it up to you later with sweet lies, but for now, his own pride is still latching onto him. there’s no way he’ll bow to you now.

as you slowly recollected yourself, lifting your head to see him running further and further away from you, down a path of nothing but misery.

it was worth it watching him work himself half to death for a sliver of recognition, to patch him up whenever he came back bruised as the cuts dried on his skin, to watch as he hung more medals up on his walls. to watch him use himself as a human shield.

because that’s what makes him happy right?  

as you floated above his bed, you watched quietly as Giles opened up his acceptance letter to the **** , his smile couldn’t be wider as he turned to you and brought the letter up to your face.

“I made it! they’re accepting me!” he beamed at you and continued texting everyone he knows about the news.

“why must you chase this?”

“why shouldn’t I? I’ve been dreaming of this for my whole life! since i was a kid and when i had my first toy tank, I knew that this is something I’m willing to chase.” he quipped back to you, “can you just support me for once? this is me doing what I love like you’ve always told me to.”

as your brows furrowed, you floated down to keep your eyes level with his, “i only told you to love yourself, my dear Giles.” reaching out to hold his hands in yours, as another feather starts getting corrupted with ashes. 

“isn’t doing something I love a way of loving myself?” he shooed you away, like he always had, as his phone screen lit up with yet another person calling him to congratulate him.

“loving yourself? you call this loving yourself? you call sending yourself to war loving yourself? you’re not loving yourself, you’re loving the recognition, it’s not the same thing.” you muttered, hands softly touching the new scars on your wings, “i want to keep you safe, with me.”

just like a plant, he grew and just like a light source that couldn’t be keep powered forever, you became dimmer and dimmer.

“i don’t mind becoming dimmer, if it makes you shine brighter, my darling.”

[charliemwrites]

Yes yes, I know. Part 9 for Charmed Slasher is coming out soon, I promise.

BUT! I had this Thought and just had to do it real quick!

(CW for violent imagery and actual violence)

Simon's been watching you for weeks.

You're such a sweet, quiet thing. Shy. Happy to let your coworkers lead conversations, chiming in only when directly addressed. You smile like sun peeking through clouds, slow and beaming, prying through darkness.

And they way you peer up through your eyelashes, the corners of your mouth tipping up. Oh, oh... he wants to ruin you.

Thinks of you while he strokes himself in bed, looking up at him through those thick lashes. Sticking together with unshed tears as you choke on his cock. That quietly pleased smile when he purrs that you're doing so well, almost halfway there...

It's becoming a distraction, this preoccupation with you. So many others just let their eyes slide over you, but not Simon. No, he sees you.

That you shred your bottom lip bloody when you're deep in thought. You wrinkle your nose and squeeze your eyes shut when you're trying not to sneeze. Always burn your mouth on your first sip of coffee.

He watches you in your home. The way you curl up with your favorite blanket, leaned up against the arm of the couch. A perfect open space for him to share with you. He memorizes your routines and imagines slotting himself into your life.

He shouldn't. That's not going to stop him.

Price has been staring at him hard when he thinks Simon won't notice. Gaz has been jumpier; the recruits whispering more fervently. They can sense him slipping; too many missions. Too much bloodshed. It's soaked past clothes and skin, muscle and marrow. His soul, if he has one, must be drenched crimson.

He needs an anchor to keep him from floating adrift in this sea of blood.

He's found you. So precious. So delicate. He couldn't let himself be too rough with you; you'd break so easily. Oh, his hands itch to break you down piece by piece like his favorite gun. Gut you and clean you out, only to put you back together again with his own hands, his initials stamped into you.

There's no salvation for someone like him, but you're all the Paradise he needs.

And then you go and do such a stupid, silly thing.

You go on a date. Look like something he wants to stain in your clingy jeans and low-cut top. Hair done just so. He wants to see it sweaty and tangled after burying his fingers in it; his vision goes red at the thought of anyone else getting that honor.

But no... no. It's not your fault, really. You don't know any better. But you will. You will very, very soon.

Simon watches your date greet you outside, slip an arm around your waist like it belongs there. Like you belong to anyone but Simon. The only things that saves the man from a bloody end right there is that you gently extricate yourself to go inside.

He seethes on the sidewalk across the street, fingers twitching for his Ka-Bar. The images of his initials on your perfect skin is burned behind his eyelids, and afterimage superimposing itself over his vision.

It's time you knew who you belong to.

--

Your father always said you have a temper like the Devil. Didn’t understand what he meant as a sunshine six-year-old, giggling after butterflies and munching on cheese sticks. Your parents’ pride and joy, their first and only babygirl.

You understood later, though, standing at the broken window and watching a pool of blood spread and spread and spread….. like leaving a marker tip on the page too long.

You’re Old Testament wrathful, fire and brimstone, churning beneath a lake of oil and ink. Pitch black, iridescent rainbow on the surface, too thick to realize what roils beneath until one misstep breaks that molecular tension—

Rage will boil up in your stomach, scorch your chest. Burns acidic in your throat and stains your teeth on venom. You don’t drown in anger, you wade into it until you float.

Not to say that you’re an angry person. You’re not. Not much to bother being angry about, by your estimate. Disappointed, resigned, annoyed, exasperated - sure. But the raw fury that sharpens your teeth and claws? It’s an energy expenditure your mind hardly ever feels the need to spark.

But there are some things…

“C’mon don’t be a fucking prude.” He’s drunk. He’s drunk and pushy and you feel your ribs expand, expand, expand…

“You fuckin’ owe me something.”

You show a little too much canine as you reply. “Because you bought me a couple drinks I didn’t ask for?”

“Fuckin’ spoiled bitch. Wha’ else d’you want, huh? Fuckin’ money?”

He pushes you. Your shoulders bump the alley wall behind you. The sky is so so dark above, no clouds, no moon. Even next to trash, the stink of that awful whiskey burns your nose.

You think of broken windows and blooms of blood.

“Just fuckin’ get on your knees.”

“No.”

“The fuck do you jus’ - it wasn’t a fuckin’—”

“No.”

His face twists, ugly and red (not the right shade of red) puffing up like a particularly loud bird.

“C’mere, you little—“

It’s nothing, nothing at all. A sidestep and a full-body shove. Your timing is perfect. You didn’t touch your second drink when your nail polish turned black.

Your “date” however, is wobbly and uncoordinated, you lean forwards on the balls of your feet in anticipation. Watch him bounce off the brick, stumble over a couple overfilled bags, and crack his temple on the metal corner of the dumpster.

You tilt your head as he collapses in a pathetic heap, barely conscious. Make a point to roll him over onto his back. The last sky he’ll ever see with any luck. You lean your foot into his stomach, watch him turn pale and then green. He’s not going to be able to roll over before all that drink comes up.

Satisfied, you step back as you brush brick dust and dirt from your pants and sleeves. Movement at the head of the alley catches your attention, but by the time you look, the disturbance is gone. Likely someone just passing by. You don’t care if you're wrong.

Below you, the man - you never bothered to actually remember his name - gurgles and starts to rasp wetly. The fury ebbs, a tide dragging out with bloody foam at the edge. You let out a slow, satisfied sigh and navigate to the alley's entrance.

You've barely stepped from the shadows of the buildings when there's a sharp pinch in your neck. The world goes black in seconds.

[prettyprettypaci2]

Put Your Thumb in Your Mouth 👍😲

Right now. As soon as you read this.

Don't take it out. Just count with me.

One... 👍😖

Two... 👍😖

Three... 👍😖

It's a little strange, isn't it? But not...entirely unpleasant. There's something satisfying about the way it fits in there. Just the right size to fill up the space.

Four... 👍🙁

Five... 👍🙁

It's odd how quickly you adjusted, isn't it? That cold, dry thumb is all warm and wet now. Without even trying, you've probably suckled it a bit, or swirled your tongue around it. Wasn't that an interesting sensation?

Six... 👍😳

Seven... 👍😳

Eight... 👍😳

You could get used to this, actually. Close your eyes. Focus on breathing. Inhale. Suck. Exhale. Suck. Inhale. Suck. Exhale. Suck. What a relaxing rhythm! Imagine a pretty rainbow of energy traveling down your throat, then up your shoulder, along your arm, and back to your thumb: this is your body in tune with itself.

Nine... 👍😊

Ten... 👍😊

You don't have to stop. You can just keep counting. Suck your thumb while you scroll, while you read, while you watch TV, while you sleep...

There's really no reason not to.

Do it.

Be a thumb-sucker 👍🥰

[just-jordie-things]

[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

[kiruuuuu]

Kiru's Advent Calendar, Day 16🏡

It's getting more and more difficult to set aside the time to write these, but I'm hanging on! To everyone who's shown support along the way, be it with reblogs, comments, likes or anything else, thank you so so much 😊 You have no idea how much you're helping 💕

Today is about Smoke and Sledge accomplishing a vital mission, enjoy! (Rating T, pure and utter chaos, ~2.2k words)

.

Smoke eyes the large, ominous building with a vague sense of dread. They’re out in the middle of nowhere, the nearest soul several miles away (so at least they won’t have to worry about causing too much noise). The windows are dark, the façade old and dirty, the path leading up to the house largely overgrown. Next to him, Sledge shifts his weight uneasily, probably experiencing the same foreboding feeling as his colleague. They’ve been on enough missions together to assess these things in sync.

“Alright”, he tries out his voice and doesn’t like how it sounds. “Give me the brief again.”

Sledge nods without taking his eyes off the stately home. “We’re looking for a standard passport. There are three possible locations: the bedside table on the second floor, a large trunk in the basement and a cabinet in the living room. We are to disturb as little as possible – ideally, nobody would be able to tell we’ve been here.”

They both take a deep breath. “… and?”

“And… there might be precautions in place. Of what nature, we’re not sure, but we should keep our eyes peeled.”

“Let’s do it, then.”

After an exchange of nods, Smoke sets foot on the small bit of stairs leading up to the main entrance, and instantly his eardrums explode. Or at least that’s what it feels like, the air is suddenly filled with the loudest shrieking he’s ever had to witness, rendering him incapable of anything other than pressing his palms to his ears and screaming in perfect tune with the noise.

Next to him, Sledge is doing much of the same, mouthing something at him he doesn’t understand, him yelling something back and earning nothing but a confused frown, and together they shuffle around the house on the lookout for something, anything to stop this torture. Eventually, after they’ve already cut two other wires running along the outside walls, they’re once again blessed with silence. Though to be fair, it doesn’t seem like it with how his ears are still ringing.

“Bloody hell”, Sledge pants, looking just as shocked as Smoke feels right now. “Who the fuck has an alarm for their stairs?”

“Well, we both know the answer to that. I just hope we didn’t cut anything important, but I suppose we’ll find out soon enough. After you.”

The Scotsman doesn’t seem to appreciate Smoke’s reluctance to lead, but he courageously climbs the stairs to the front door anyway. So far, so good. From as far away as he can, Smoke hands him the keys with outstretched fingers and considers diving into cover, yet deems it too dramatic. For now. Sledge carefully turns the main key in the lock, slowly puts his hand on the handle and slams the door in his face full force.

Smoke badly suppresses a snort.

“Who the fuck spring loads their fucking front door?!”, Sledge complains in disbelief, rubbing his forehead.

“Someone demented. Let me check if the coast is clear.” Smoke slips past him, entering the main hallway and expecting the worst. Both of them wait several seconds, uneasy, until they decide they’re good. “I don’t even know whether I’m supposed to be on the lookout for anything. You know, like some kind of trigger or pressure plate or shite like that. Maybe he only booby trapped the outside and we’re fine now. What’s the first location?”

“Living room cabinet. Should be over there.”

Smoke starts walking to where his companion pointed, cautiously followed by the very same, and though they keep scanning the floor and walls for anything suspicious-looking, Smoke runs head first into some wire installed at eye level. Before he can scream, they’re once again surrounded by noise – this time, however, there’s something satisfying to it, almost rain-like in its pitter-pattering as innumerable glass spheres are poured onto the ground, surrounding them.

“Marbles”, Sledge summarises succinctly and Smoke almost applauds him for the observation. “That’s fine as long as we don’t move. Don’t try to step on them, we should stay -” He’s silenced by a water balloon hitting the back of his bald head, failing to explode and falling to the floor impotently.

“I don’t understand how anyone can set something like this up”, Smoke remarks right before another bursts by his feet, spattering his legs with a black, viscous liquid. Its stench nearly makes him gag and all of a sudden, they’re filled with panic once more.

“Move, move”, Sledge urges him on, “skate over the floor so you don’t -” And the large Scotsman crashes to the ground before even finishing his sentence, having stepped on marbles that rolled away immediately. With him on them.

Smoke barely dodges the next balloon aimed at him, dragging his feet in an attempt to outwit the marble sea, and secretly thanks Ash for her relentless exercises in evasion. Behind him, he hears Sledge sputter and retch as he’s hit again but it’s every man for himself now, Smoke has almost reached his sanctuary, the door leading to their first potential target, he stretches out his hand, moves to open the door and -

- and smacks himself in the face with it. Hard.

“Fucking bellend”, he curses through the pain, leaking more and more marbles into the new room and gets nailed by a paint-filled balloon to his back. At least, he thinks it’s paint.

… he hopes it’s paint.

It takes Sledge a few more seconds to come crawling in as well, looking like he went diving in a bog and panting hard, gratefully accepting the pack of tissues Smoke hands him. Right as he’s about to open it, he asks: “Did you have this on you?”

“Yeah, I -”

“Ow! Mother -”

“Uh, I meant to say, it got stuck to me when I stumbled in. Sorry.”

“He fucking booby trapped the fucking tissues!” Sledge pours out the thumbtacks hidden in the plastic packaging before inspecting each tissue individually. Once he’s mostly cleaned himself up, they regroup by patting each other on the back and improvising a small pep talk. They both needed it.

“I think that’s the cabinet there.” Smoke points at the object in question, a heavy-looking mahogany thing placed innocently next to a fireplace. “Want me to open it?”

“You have no idea how much I was hoping you’d say that.”

Smoke walks over, his colleague again following at a distance, and once he’s close, the fireplace predictably coughs out a large cloud of soot they both manage to avoid. Apart from breathing a lot of it in, of course. “We’re getting wise to these tricks now”, Smoke half-grins, half-croaks, reaches out and breaks the glass door with his forehead.

As he stands there, alternating between cursing and whimpering, Sledge drily mutters: “We should not open another door in this bloody house.” Heavy boots crunch over to where Smoke is brushing shards of glass off his clothes and they both begin rifling through the contents, making sure to lift everything and check for secret compartments.

“Looks like the only false bottom here is me”, Smoke announces, earning himself an entirely unamused glare from his companion that seems to say you wish. “So, downstairs or upstairs?”

“I’m more scared of this basement than usual. Let’s go up.” Sledge leads the way, both of them still trying to cough out the burnt ashes that are currently lining their lungs. It seems the balloon barrage has ceased and with the marbles populating the living room as well now, there’s enough space for them to tiptoe across the room without falling again. When they reach the foot of the stairs, they pause.

Look at each other.

A second later, Sledge holds out a flat hand just as Smoke offers a fist.

“Fuck”, Smoke grumbles and begins climbing the stairs in slow motion. He tests every single step before putting his weight on it, half expecting them to snap into a smooth surface so he slides all the way back down, and the next thing he knows is that he falls up the stairs – he’s able to catch himself before his poor maltreated face meets old wood, but his foot won’t lift off the stair regardless. He lets out a deep sigh. “Please tell me my boot isn’t superglued to these bloody stairs.”

“I can with a very clean conscience inform you that your boot is indeed not superglued to the stairs.” Sledge sounds sincere enough Smoke gets his hopes up until the added: “They do, however, look like they’re melting into them.”

“Holy mother Mary of god”, Smoke hisses as he unlaces his shoe in record time, slipping his foot out of it as fast as possible, only to realise that the step to which he jumped in order to escape melting himself is about as slippery as the bastard who set this all up. What follows then must probably look hilarious to Sledge who isn’t caught in a dance between life or death, with Smoke flailing all over the place, at one point probably lifting his foot higher than his head, almost falling about a hundred times as he slips and slides with an added soundtrack of similarly wobbly noises and indeed, when a strong hand grips his arm to finally put an end to his performance, it’s shaking with silent laughter. Just like the large man it belongs to.

Smoke really wants to strangle someone now, and he’s not sure it even needs to be anybody specific.

“I have an idea”, he discloses as they halt in front of the bedroom door. “Watch this.” Not fancying getting hit in the face again, he leans against the door with all his weight, pushing as hard as he can, and then presses on the handle, thinking himself a genius.

It’s a good thing Sledge’s reflexes are as trained as they are so the Scotsman manages to grab him before he flings himself full speed into the bed of nails placed strategically behind the door. The door that swings inwards.

“Fucking hell”, Sledge comments and Smoke can only agree.

They isolate the bedside table, the second possible location, with extreme prejudice, identifying a small explosive that would’ve gone off by opening it without care and disarming it while IQ coaches them on the phone, and eventually nod at each other. Sledge is brave enough to pull it open and reach in, only to yank his hand back with a yelp.

“What?”, Smoke wants to know, worried. “What happened?”

Sledge looks like he’s going to cry any second. “Paper cut”, he grits out before whining pitifully. And indeed, there’s already some blood visible on his fingers.

“Come on, that’s not so bad. Let’s just hope that we’ve… found …” Smoke trails off as more and more blood appears, pooling at the edge of Sledge’s hand, his wrist, disappearing into his sleeve.

“If it’s not in here”, Sledge hisses, waving his hand in an attempt to distract from the pain that must be immense, “I’m throwing myself out the window.”

Wordlessly, Smoke pulls the drawer out and upturns it. Nothing but a few loose sheets of paper. “Sorry, mate”, he mutters.

At least Sledge seems to forget his agony for a moment when Smoke slams the door in his own face as they exit the bedroom.

.

~*~

.

With a final-sounding smack, Smoke slaps the open passport onto the hood of Sledge’s car. Both of them stand there in companionable silence, flipping the badly-taken photograph inside the bird with such sincerity it makes him proud, continuing even as he waits for Harry to pick up the phone.

When he does, all Smoke forces out is a quiet: “We got it.”

A brief pause. “Great. I, um, trust there were no complications? He did say you might run into a few of his security features, but -”

“You need the number, right?” No time for chit-chat. Smoke just wants to walks the few miles down to the river so he can wash off the worst of the mix of paint, rancid butter and bird poo covering him head to toe, because Sledge is not driving him home like this. He reads out the passport number while Harry asks no further questions, ready to hang up without notice until something occurs to him. “You never told us: what even happened?”

“Well… Mike got himself arrested in Laos – don’t ask me how, don’t ask me why. I don’t know how he got there without his passport, but they won’t let him go until they have it so he can prove his identity. So in addition, you’ll have to mail it to him, I’ll send you the address in a moment. Thanks for getting it from his holiday home, in any case.”

“Sure”, Smoke says and means fuck off. After he’s hung up, he fills Sledge in and the two of them look at each other.

“How long will priority mail take? Two days with the express option, right?”

Smoke purses his lips. “I guess.” A pause. “But I mean… it’s pretty expensive.”

Sledge nods gravely. “And it’s not really a pressing matter, right?”

“He won’t mind waiting a few more days, I’m sure.”

Another, final nod. “Alright then. Snail mail it is.”

One last bird in the direction of Thatcher’s face and the two of them start walking towards the nearest source of water that isn’t located in a madman’s house.

[baby-yongbok]

Hey can I pls request asking bf chan if you can give him a handjob for the first time and then making him cum all over your hand 🤭

This took me to a headspace that is currently causing brain rot so thank you for ruining me 😭This is a lot longer than I intended for it to be but I promise its worth it lol Enjoy! 💕

Free Time - Boyfriend!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader - Imagine

Word Count: 2,572

Warnings under the cut

✨Masterlist✨

✨Part 2: First Time✨

Warnings: Cursing, Cum tasting (for like a second), that should be all of the warnings? So Sorry if I missed any!

Reader is Called: Baby, Babygirl

Chan is called: Babe

Your relationship with Chan was nothing but sunshine, rainbows, and sexual tension. The two of you have only been dating for six months and you both agreed to take it very slow when it came to physical intimacy. You’ve done some stuff like making out, teasing each other over your clothes and even a bit of dry humping while making out but you have yet to fully expose yourselves to each other.

Today was one of Chan’s very rare days off and he promised to spend every second of it with you instead of working. The two of you spent the day doing absolute nonsense, you stayed in bed until noon and then ordered the most tasty yet unhealthy breakfast that you could imagine. Neither of you bothered to get dressed, you wore a flimsy tank top and panties and he wore nothing but a pair of basketball shorts. The two of you flipped through channels and played uno a couple of times until he got sick of losing. You played a silly game of hide and seek and even had a pillow fight. Your entire day seemed to come straight out of a rom com and you weren’t mad at that one bit. As it got later in the day your energy seemed to die down just a bit, the two of you decided to just chill and listen to music about two hours ago but it only brought your burst of energy back when Chan decided to try and teach you the choreo to Red Lights.

“You know I suck at dancing” You laughed as you tried to follow along with his directions.

“I know but this one is so easy.” He chuckled as he watched you mess up the move for the millionth time.

“I quit.” 

You playfully throw your hands up in defeat and move to change the song since the two of you have now listened to the Red Lights a gazillion times. Chan plops down on the couch, and you study him quickly as you move to sit next to him. He’s sweating slightly from trying to teach you the choreography and he’s slouched into the couch and man spreading in such a sexy way that you almost think that you’re crazy for thinking it. As you sit next to him your eyes catch a glimpse of the slight tent in his black shorts and you can’t help but to stare for a bit. Luckily, Chan has his head tilted and resting on the back of the couch with his eyes closed as he breathes softly, if it weren’t for his slight exhaustion your staring wouldn’t be all that subtle.

“What time is it?” He asks with a sigh as he lifts his head to look at the digital clock on the wall in front of you two. “Oh wow, ten o’clock already? It feels like it's six.” 

You chuckle and nod but your mind is on anything but the time right now. You quickly glance down at the outline of Chan’s member through his shorts before moving closer to him and throwing your leg over his knee and laying your head on his chest. 

“What should we do now? We’ve spent the entire day being adult children.” Chan wraps his arm around your shoulder slightly holding you against him and his fingers start tracing imaginary circles into your skin. 

“We could try to wind down for the night. Maybe I’ll go shower and you can do your little night time routine, put on your diffuser and dim the lights and stuff.” You smiled at the fact that he knew you so well, there was a certain atmosphere you liked to create in the house before you went to bed. You liked everything to feel soft and sensual but you weren’t sure if you were ready to give up the hyper fun vibes that were weaved into today quite yet. 

“Maybe” You moved your leg, throwing it over both of his and positioned yourself so that you were straddling him. “Or we could enjoy each other's company a bit longer.”

Chan’s hands found a home on your waist as he looked up at you with bright playful eyes. “Yeah? How would you like to enjoy my company, babygirl?”

His lips turned into a grin and he bit his tongue slightly in anticipation. You stared down at him with the same sparkling look in your eyes but your gaze was less playful, there was a glaze of lust over your eyes that Chan was slowly noticing. You know that he noticed it because you could feel the evidence hardening near your heat. 

“I think you know how.” You whispered as you leaned down towards his ear and left small kiss down his jawline. He let out a low groan as you continued to pepper light kisses all over his neck.

“Baby, what exactly is it that you want to do?” 

“Well, I still want to take it slow with you.” You kissed the shell of his ear in between sentences. “But, I saw that you were semi-hard and now I can feel that you’re completely bricked up.”

You chuckle lightly when Chan moans quietly from you sucking on his earlobe. “So, I was thinking that maybe… I could give you a hand job?”

You pull away from his neck to get a glimpse of his facial expression and honestly you can’t tell how he feels about it. You’ve never seen such an expression on his face before, it almost looks like a cross between excitement and confusion.

“You want to jerk me off?” He asks bluntly, making you blush slightly. You shake your head in confirmation and Chan swallows hard as his eyes search yours “Are you sure”

“I’m so so sure” You slowly get off of his lap and stand in front of him. He takes you in for a second, your pretty cotton panties are hugging your hips and your tank top is so thin that it might as well not exist. One of your tank top straps is falling off of your shoulder and your hair is back in a messy ponytail, his hungry eyes scanning you only makes him harder and his dick twitches as a result. You notice the movement and smile towards him.

“Can I? Are you okay with that?” He shakes his head before managing to get a meek ‘yes’ out of his mouth. You drop to your knees in front of him and trail your hands up his calves and then up his thighs under his shorts. Chan holds his breath for a second as you get closer to his member but he shakily exhales when you move your hands back down his legs. 

He watches your every move and keeps a close eye on your body language, he wants to make sure that you enjoy yourself too. You smile up at him as you excitedly sit up on your knees and reach for the waistline of his shorts giving them a slight tug before dipping them down and freeing his hard cock. You’ve only ever felt his member during make out sessions or when he got hard from you being on top of him, this is the first time that you’ve ever seen his cock and gosh to say that you’re impressed would be an understatement. You shimmy his shorts down a bit more down his thighs before lightly touching his hard dick and taking in just how perfect it looked. It’s a bit darker than the rest of his body and has a pretty prominent vein running along the bottom of it. The tip of his cock is red and dripping in anticipation and only one thought pops into your head.

“I did this to you?” He grins down at you and shakes his head.

“You always do, baby.” You grin back at him before running your hand up and down his shaft a couple of times trying to get used to the feel of his smooth skin and get accustomed to his thickness. “Fuck”

Chan’s head falls back against the couch at the friction and it only encourages you to do more. You lightly run your hand over the head of his cock and his hips slightly buck into your hand. You rub the pre-cum leaking from his cock across his tip with your thumb and he moans at the sensation.

“Baby, I’m really sensitive. It’s been awhile.” You shake your head in acknowledgement before spitting in your free hand and bringing it to his shaft. He watches as you take your second hand and smear your spit over his cock. A low groan erupts from his throat as his brows furrowed and he bites his lip slightly. 

“Tell me if I do anything you don’t like or if I can do anything different, okay?” He shakes his head with a slight smirk.

“Of course but you’re doing fucking amazing right now.” You shake your head before bringing your hand back up to your mouth and spitting in it again. You wet his cock and then slowly start to stroke him with your wet hand. “Oh fuck.” 

You try to keep a consistent rhythm while you pump his length, slowly increasing the speed as he melts into your touch. “Just like that, don’t slow down.” 

You maintain the speed that he likes but you decide to spice it up a little. You lick your other hand and wrap it around his tip, stroking up and down at the same pace that you're stroking his shaft. His hips buck into your hand again and he runs a hand through his hair before taking a hand full in his fist and slightly pulling at it. “Oh baby, you’re doing so fucking good.” 

Your mouth waters a bit as you watch how he reacts to you. His facial expressions and the way that his toes curl at the pleasure makes you want to give him more. You can’t help but to wonder what he’d be like when the two of you decide to take it all the way. 

You change up your technique a bit and start twisting your fists side to side in a screwing motion making sure to cover his entire tip with your hand. A deep groan leaves Chan’s throat as your hands work over him. 

“You like it, babe?” You ask in a bit of a cocky yet sexy tone, it feels good to see the effect that you have on him. You can barely imagine what it’ll be like the first time you use your mouth on him. 

“I love it.” He moans out “Can you twist your hands and go up and down at the same time, baby”

You hum in response before doing exactly as he asks. His head falls back against the couch again and his back arches slightly.  “Shit, babygirl, so perfect.”

You raise up on your knees a bit and spit down onto his cock making sure to keep it nice and wet, Chan groans at the sight and his free hand reaches forward and lightly grips your chin making you look into his eyes. With his brows still furrowed he dips his tongue out of the side of his mouth and bites it lightly before shaking his head. 

“You’re so pretty jerking my cock like that.” A low moan escapes you as your eyes flutter shut momentarily and your lips part slightly. You bite your lip a bit as you keep his eye contact. Suddenly, his eyes shut tightly and his brows raise before furrowing again and his lips pull into a thin line. You lean forward a bit spitting down onto his cock again and the wet sounds that fill the room make the scene nearly feel pornographic. Chan opens his eyes and his mouth falls open as he shakes his head to encourage you to keep up what you’re doing. 

“I’m gonna fucking cum.” He groans out and you swear that it’s the hottest thing that you’ve ever heard him say while you’ve been with him. You keep your hands going to a steady pace squeezing a bit more to give him a tighter feel. “Baby..” He moans out  and you moan back in response.

His grip on your chin loosens slowly before he retracts his hand to bring both of them up behind his head to grab at his hair as his breathing quickens and his hips buck lightly fucking himself into your hand. “Just like that” 

You keep your eyes on his and you watch as his cheeks start to turn red and he fights to keep his eyes on yours. “Fuck.. I’m..” His head falls back and he moans out loudly, you feel his cock twitch in your hands and you moan as you watch his first stream of cum fall against your hand.

“I’m fucking cumming” He grunts out and you slow down your movements as you watch his cum spurt out in hot bursts that cover your hands and drip down to the hardwood. Chan lets out a deep sigh and starts deep breathing to slow his heart rate. You slowly stop twisting with both hands and instead use one to jerk him lightly to ensure that you get every last drop from him. 

“There’s so much.” You whisper to yourself but Chan hears you and chuckles lightly.

“I told you that it's been a while.” He lifts his head to look at you, his hands let go of his hair and fall to his side. You haven’t let go of his now softening member yet and it’s purely because your curiosity is getting the best of you right now. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just.. I want to taste it.” Chan’s brows furrow again but before he can ask what you mean you bring your cum covered hand up to your mouth and take a small taste. His eyes widen as he watches your tongue dip out and lick his arousal, a small groan leaves his lips as you look into his eyes and lick it again, taking a bit more this time. 

“Not bad.” You shrug before standing from your spot between his legs.

“That was fucking hot.” He watches a smile creep up on your lips and you shake your head playfully. 

“Come on, let's clean up and wind down. You made a mess on the floor.” 

“Oh yeah I made a mess.” He laughs as he stands trying to avoid the puddle of his cum on the floor. You both go to the bathroom and clean yourselves up. Chan pulls up his shorts and just when you’re about to leave the bathroom he grabs your shirt lightly and his hand finds your waist pulling you back into him. 

“Thank you for that. You really were amazing, so so perfect.” He plants a kiss on your neck and you giggle, smiling wide. 

“It was my pleasure.” His fingers caress your sides as he leans into your ear.

“Your turn?” You blush immediately as you look over your shoulder to your smiling boyfriend. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Maybe.” You shake your ass against him teasingly before breaking free from his hold and sashaying away. He watches you with hungry eyes and you can feel his gaze on you. Maybe you won't be winding down anytime soon.