#shorty wc

[letyachan]

111.Shorty

"No, she's not. She has never been, and she never will be. You think of her every time you look at Red. She's your daughter's mother, Stick. Go to her; ask her for help. She might be your only chance to save Red."

[h0efor2ho]

Two Is Better Than One

Seungcheol X Reader X Mingyu

WC : 4.4K

TW : Roomates to FWB, threesum, unprotected ( wrap it up ) Anal, Vaginal sex, Fingering, Oral, Very very close to male on male, double penetrate, talks of masturbation, talks of toy use and listening through walls.

You jump at the sound of the door bell of your apartment ringing. "Piizzzaaa's Heeereee" you shout as you answer the door. Quickly paying the delivery driver you make your way into the kitchen. "I can smell the garlic knots from down the hall" Mingyu says as he enter the kitchen behind you. "Of course you can" you say rolling your eyes. You and Mingyu became quick friends back in freshman year when he coincidently was a pizza delivery driver. For two months straight he would deliver pizzas to you almost every day. The pair of you quickly bonding over your shared love of movies, after all he was a film major. "Where's 'Coups?" you ask as you open the pizza box.

Like on que you hear footsteps as Seungcheol rounds the corner into the kitchen "Right here" he smiles at you. His brown hair clinging to his forehead, wet, indicating he just finished up in the shower. Mingyu had introduced you to Seungcheol aka S.Coups aka Coups as you called him, toward the end of your freshman year of college. The two of them were gym buddies as they put it, working out together everyday. You and 'Coups clicked right away over your love for literature. The two of you often having conversations about the meaning of whatever book you were reading. The three of you became inseparable so it was a no brainer when your second year rolled around, that you should all live together and here you were two years later, all still getting along. 

You smile up at Seungcheol as he makes his was over to you "How many slices you want 'Coups?" reaching up to grab another plate from the cabinet. You cant quite reach it, stretching a bit farther before you feel an arm wrap around your bare thighs, another pressed to the XL hoodie on your stomach as Mingyu comes up behind you to lift you up. "There you go shorty" he teases as he places you back on the ground after you grab the plate. "I'm not that much shorter than you" you laugh back at him, knowing it was a flat out lie. You stood at 5'5' and Mingyu stood at 6'2". You quickly hand Mingyu and Seungcheol a plate and make one for yourself. None of you bather to sit at the table you have, opting to stand around the kitchen. Eating and talking until you were all done. 

"What are we doing tonight?" You ask Seungcheol as you wash the dishes you all used. It was roommate night. Once a week the three of you had a night where one of you picked a activity for all of you and tonight was Seungcheol's turn. "We just got that new video game. I was thinking we could play that tonight" he says as he helps dry the dishes and put them away. "Sure that sounds good, I'll make some popcorn" Mingyu says with a smile "You guys know I suck at those things" you laugh. "Dont worry we'll help you, right Mingyu?" Seungcheol says looking over at his roommate. "Absolutely" He says sweetly to you. "Fine" you sigh, "I'll go get the blankets" you say exiting the kitchen.

After another 15 minutes you were all gathered in the living room. You and Seungcheol on the couch while Mingyu opted to sprawl out on the floor. Mingyu and Seungcheol go first to get a feel for the game. All you could tell was it was some kind of racing game and it looked like Seungcheol was beating Mingyu. After two more rounds of Seungcheol winning he looked over at you "Alright your turn Y/N" he says handing you the controller. Taking it from him you look at it in your hand "Sooo what button is what?" you ask. Both Seungcheol and Mingyu laugh "Don't worry I'll help you, come here" Seungcheol says as he scoots back on the couch, patting the space in-between his open legs. You get up and perch yourself on the edge of the couch in the middle of him. 

"Come here silly" he says as his hand snakes around your waist to pull you back against his chest. "I need to be able to help you with the buttons" he says from behind you. Both his hands come to lay onto of yours on the controller. You cant help the butterflies that erupt in your stomach at his touch. His hands are soft and yet firm over your skin. You'd be lying if you said you had never thought of your roommate in that way, both of them. You cant count how many nights you'd lied awake in bed, touching yourself wishing it was one of them, whispering their names as you came all over your fingers. You'r very much aware your sitting in between his legs in just an oversized hoodie and knee high socks. Your breath hitching as Seungcheol's head comes to rest on your shoulder.

"Okay so this is how you go" he says as he guides your finger over the red button "And this is how you stop" this time his finger coming over the blue button. "Mingyu" he calls to your other roommate on the floor. Mingyu's head snapping up, an unreadable look spreads across his face as he looks at the two of you "Lets do a practice run first kay, so she can get used to the controls" Mingyu shakes his head yes before tearing his gaze from the two of you to the TV. You play two rounds with Seungcheol's fingers on yours to help you. By the third round he tells you you're on your own. His hand dropping from yours as the game starts. You were so focused on the game you didn't realize Seungcheol's hand had dropped to your thigh right above your knee. 

It wasn't until the round was over did you notice he was drawing little circles on your skin with his thumb. "Your to tense" You hear Seungcheol's voice in your ear "Relax" he says as he pulls you back flush against his chest and leans back into the couch. Your hoodie ridding up on your thighs a bit as you lean into him, your legs parting slightly with the motion. His hand on your leg begins to rub up and down your thigh, slowly dipping in between your legs. Slowly getting higher and higher with each pass toward your center. Your mind is reeling, you'r barley able to focus on the game, pressing the wrong buttons causing you to lose control of your car on screen and crash. "Pretty, you doing okay over there?" Mingyu says, turning to look at you and Seungcheol again. 

"She's doing just fine" Seungcheol says into your ear "She's just a little tense is all" His other hand comes down on your other thigh rubbing up and down. "Aww, I think we should help her relax. Don't you think 'Coup" Mingyu smiles up at the two of you. Seungcheol's hands swipe up again, sliding into the crack of your thighs, pausing dangerously close to your clothed center, squeezing the fat of your legs. You feel his hot breath on the shell of your ear "Would you like that Y/N?" he asks. "You want me and Mingyu to help you unwind?" You feel him press his lips to the back of your neck as his hands begin to move again. You don't trust your voice, all you can do is nod your head yes. You hear both men chuckle as you feel Seungcheol's hands pry your legs open, throwing each one over his to lock them in place. 

His hands sliding up the inside of your thighs, pausing right where your leg meets your body "Say Mingyu" he calls over to the dark haired man "Tell me, how wet is she" a shiver runs down your spine as Mingyu crawls his way over to sit in front of you. His face nestled in-between your legs. "Mmmm very Cheol" He says as his hands trace the same path Seungcheol's did up your legs. "Her little green lace panties have a nice big wet spot" Mingyu says looking up at you licking his lips. "Just as I thought" Seungcheol coos from behind you. His hand comes to run up and down the length of your covered slit, gliding over the damp crotch of your panties. "At first we thought you were just comfortable with us, walking around in those little skirts or things like this. Your long shirts with no pants on" 

His long finger finds your clit through your lace underwear, rubbing small circles into it "But then we heard you" Mingyu add's, Your eyes snap open to look down at him as your chest heaves. "Oh yes that's right isn't it Cheol" he says as he takes his thumb and runs it over your slick covered panties. "Oh yes Min'. You see Y/N the walls are thin so we hear everything" You swallow thickly "Ev-everything?" you question. Thinking back to all the night you had touched yourself, their names falling from your lips. "Yes pretty" Mingyu says before placing a kiss to your inner thigh. "Every time you called our names" he says "Every time you turned on that little toy of yours, we heard the tell tail buzz" Seungcheol whispers in your ear. "Every squash of your wet pussy begging to be filled up by more then your little fingers" Mingyu add's 

A shaky moan leaves your lips as Seungcheol applies more pressure to the circles hes drawing on your clit. "Min', I think she's very much enjoying this" Seungcheol smirks down at his friend "I think your right Cheol" he replies back pushing his thumb into your panty covered slit. He watches as his finger separates your folds behind the fabric, feeling the wetness seep through. You cant help your self anymore, you slowly start to roll your hips, grinding against their fingers. You hear Seungcheol let out a low groan from behind you. He pressed his hips up into your back, your ass rolling over him and his now very hard, very large cock. You let out a little gasp. "Look what you've done Y/N" he says as his lips find your neck as the same time Mingyu's meet the inside of your thighs.

You let out a whimper, your skin burning with each of their touches. "More" you whine as your head falls back onto Seungcheol's shoulder. "What do you say?" Seungcheol asks, voice muffled by the flesh of your neck hes sucking on. "Pleaseee" you say, tilting your head forward to look down at Mingyu in-between your legs. "Want more please" He detaches his mouth from your thigh "What do you think Cheol? Should we give her what she wants?" He asks cocking his head to. the side. "I think so." He says "Lets see how good she can be. Help me take these off" He says to Mingyu as his hand comes up to grip the band of your panties. He slides them down your hips to your thighs before Mingyu takes over and slides them the rest of the way off. Tossing them across the room somewhere. 

Mingyu's hands coming to rest on your knees as he pushes your legs wide open, putting you on display for them. He watched as Seungcheol dipped his fingers in between your fold, gathering your slick on his fingers before he brought that finger up to your clit. Gliding over the sensitive bundle of nerves with ease. "Put those thick fingers to use Mingyu" he says horsely to your roommate. You feel Mingyu take one of his fingers and circles it around your entrance, coating his finger tip in your juice before pushing into your tight hole. "ughh" you moan out as you feel him enter you. "You like that pretty?" He ask's looking up at you "Mmhmm" you shake your head yes as you slightly roll your hips, willing him to move inside of you. 

He slowly starts to pump his finger in and out of you a few times before adding another finger. You let out a whimper at the stretch "He's got to prep you to take our cocks princess" Seungcheol whispers to you, his words causing you to let out a moan. You feel his hand slink around your body, tugging up your hoodie and splaying his hand over your stomach. His hand hot against your skin as he trails it up your body before finding your chest. "Mmmm" he moans out "Min' look at what a bad girl she is" He says as he lifts your shirt up and over your head exposing you "No bra huh baby" he says "Its like she's just begging us to play with her" Mingyu says. "Is that what you want Y/N?" Seungcheol asks as his hand increases the pace on your clit, Mingyu does the same with his fingers, curling them upward to hit the spongy spot inside your walls. "You want us to play with you princess?" 

"Yesss" you cry out, the coil in your stomach is being to tighten as they continue exploring your body, Seungcheol has a finger rubbing circles on your clit as his other hand is cupping your left breast, slipping his thumb over your nipple. Mingyu has two fingers buried in your pussy, curling his fingers hitting your g-spot with each push and pull. His other hand reached up twisting and pulling your other nipple. Your teetering on the edge of your release when Seungcheol's hand comes up and wraps around your throat. "Now be a good girl and cum for us yea" that's all it took to send you over the edge. Letting out a loud moan as your walls squeezing around Mingyu's fingers, trying to suck him in and keep him there as you coated them in your juice. Seungcheol continued to draw lazy circles on you as you came down from your high, Mingyu's fingers slowed significantly. 

He slipped his fingers out of your wet hole, holding them up in front of you, spreading his fingers to watch your cum spread across them. Looking up he starts to bring his hand up, past your head and right into Seungcheol's waiting mouth. You turn your head to watch him sucks your juice off of Mingyu's fingers. Both boys humming at the sensation before Mingyu pulls them out with a pop. You lean your head back on Seungcheol's shoulder as you try and catch your breath, already a little tired from your first orgasm. "Help me with these" you hear Seungcheol say before you feel him lifting your hips. You look down and watch as Mingyu is slipping off Seungcheol's sweats and boxers to his ankles, before your placed back on Seungcheol's lap. His very hard dick now pressed up against your wet center. 

He reaches around grabbing the base of his cock before, he lightly slaps it against your cunt before hes pulling himself away from your pussy. "Min', help her" he says "Gladly" Mingyu says as his hands come to push your knees up, his hands behind them as he slightly lifts you up so Seungcheol can line his long cock up with your entrance before slowly lowering you down. You gasp as you feel the thick head of Seungcheol's cock push pass the tight first ring of muscles before you fully sink down on him. "Oh fuck" you cry out as he bottoms out in you. He gives you a second to adjust to his size before hes hooking his arms under your legs and lifting you up. He starts to thrust, a slow and gentle pace at first. "You must like that huh pretty" Mingyu coos up at you, his pants now around his thighs, his hand gripping his big dick as he lazily pumps himself. "Your already leaving a ring of cream around the base of his cock" 

"Is she now?" Seungcheol's asks in a strained voice from behind you. He's trying to be nice and hold back his assault on your pussy. He doesn't want to break you just yet. "Clean her off Min'" he coos down at him. Mingyu wastes no time attaching his mouth to your clit, sucking it into his mouth, his tongue lapping at your bud like it was the last thing he was going to do. The sounds spilling from your mouth keep getting louder and louder. You look down at the head of dark hair as his tongue swipes across your clit, before he pull back. He looks down at his hand, spitting into it before placing it back on his cock and pumping. Looking up he holds eye contact with you as he leans back in, his tongue meeting the lip of your pussy that's wrapped around Seungcheol's dick. Licking slowly collecting your release that's collected there. You watch as he laps at your folds while Seungcheol pounds into you flattens his tongue and licking till he finds your clit again. 

"Fuckk" You hear Seungcheol breathes out into your shoulder "You must like that with the way you're clamping on my cock so hard". He picks up his pace causing you to cry out as the tip of his cock slams into your cervix with each thrust. Your head leaned forward as you watch Mingyu lick you over and over again. Clean your release from your folds as Seungcheols pounds into you, before flicking his tongue up over your clit. A sensation growing deep in your stomach has you worried. " 'Gyu wait..." you cry out "Som' thin's wrong" you slur out as your body starts to shake in his arms. "Your good baby girl" he coos to you "take it baby, you can do it" Your legs are shaking, trying to clamp shut as Mingyu attaches his mouth to your clit again, sucking you in. "Fuckkk" you cry, "Please 'Coups... I'm gonna pee" you cry, tears pricking the corner of your eyes "Gyu" you cry, looking down at him, His eyes shifting up to meet yours. A smirk spreading on his face, he detaches his mouth from you but brings his fingers up. You watch as he pushes the small hood of skin back, exposing your swollen nub to him. His mouth coming back down, his tongue connecting with it. 

The second his tongue swipes over your nerve you are seeing white. You let out a strangled cry as your eyes roll back in your head, your back arching as your gush clear liquid all over Seungcheol's cock. "Fuck princess" Seuncheol grunts "Fucking squirting for us to" he slows his thrusts to allow you to come down once more. You'r panting, vision blurry from the tears in your eyes. Your hands gripping Seungcheol's arms, leaving little half moon shapes in them from your nails. Your body is slumped back against his chest. Your gasping as Seungcheol lowers your legs. "You are doing so good princess" he coos into your ear. Lifting your hips he slowly eases out of you. You whimper at the feeling of emptiness. "Don't worry, we're not done yet" he chuckles as he turns you to face him. A leg thrown on each side of him as you straddle his waist. Sinking back down on his hard length, a moan slipping past your lips. His hands coming up to cup your face as he leans in, gently pressing his lips to yours. His kiss is sweet and calming. 

As Seungcheol is distracting you with his sweet kisses, you feel Mingyu's hands on your ass. Spreading your cheeks apart, you hear the sound before you feel it. He hocks a glob of warm spit right on your puckered hole. You jerk and whimper in surprise when you feel his finger swipe against your hole. "Shhh. Its okay princess, he's just prepping you okay" Seungcheol coos while cupping your face. You nod your head in agreement before leaning forward to rest your head on his shoulder. Seungcheol looks up at Mingyu and gives him a nod to continue. You feel Mingyu swirling his finger over your puckered hole before he gently pushes in. Your spine straightens a bit at the sensation, a small whimper muffled by Seungcheol's shoulder. His hands running up and down your back, while you cockwarm him. After a few minutes Mingyu has successfully inserted two fingers into your ass, scissoring them to spread you open. 

He pulls them out and quickly lines his cock up. Rubbing the bulbous head of his cock against your hole, coating it in his pre before he slowly pushed it in. "Ohh Fuck" you moan out as he stretches you open. His hand coming up to grip your shoulder. "You okay pretty?" he asks as he stalls, letting you get used to the tip of his cock in your asshole. "Mmhmm" you hum out as you shake your head "Please Gyu.. fill me up pleaseee" you whine out to him. He wastes no time in sinking the rest of his length into you. A string of curses leaves his lips as your hole wraps around him, hugging him like you were made for him. "Such a good girl" Seungcheol coos as he kisses your forehead. "Were gonna move now okay" "Please" you choke out. With out another words Mingyu is pulling out slowly till just his tip is in you. As he pushes back in seungcheol begins to pull his cock out of your pussy till again just the tip is in you. They work in tandem when one pulls out the other thrusts in so you are never empty. It doesn't take long for them to pick up their pace.

"Fuck yesss right there please" you cry out, your body jilting with each thrust of their cocks. "Yeah, you like this pretty" Mingyu asks as he grips your shoulder. "You like being full of our cocks huh princess" Seungcheol ask's. You nod your head feverishly. Your hips rolling in time with their thrust's, your breasts jiggling with each push as they are smashed against Seungcheol's chest. His hands come around your body, one palm on each of your ass cheeks as he pulls them apart, spreading you open for Mingyu. "Fuck dude" Mingyu moans out, his eyes watching as his cock disappears inside of you "She's swallowing me so well" His hips slamming into your ass with each thrust. "I know" Seungcheol says looking up at him "I can feel you inside her" he grunts out. "Harder" You cry out "Please harder" your hands gripping Seungcheol's shoulder as the boys thrust up harder and harder into you. 

"Fuck princess" Seungcheol grunts "Your clenching around me so tight I'm not gonna last much longer" "Me either pretty" Mingyu adds in "Your ass is so tight" You sit up and lean back, your back now met with Mingyu's chest. Your hands coming up to twist and pull on your nipples in Seungcheol's face. "Fuck yeah just like that baby girl, play with yourself for us. Show us how bad you want us" He grunts out as you play with yourself for them, Mingyu's head resting on your shoulder watching you. "Open" he says as he reaches his hand forward and places two fingers in seungcheol's mouth, coating his fingers with his saliva before pulling them out and trailing them down to your puffy clit. He presses into your sensitive bud and starts to rub circles. Your body begins to jerk. "oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!!" you chant as your body rushes toward another orgasm. Seungcheol leans forward pushing your hand away before latching his mouth onto your nipple. Sucking it into his mouth before gently clamping his teeth down on it and flicking it with his tongue. 

Thats all you need. You vault over the edge. Your body convoluting above them as both of your holes contract and squeeze them. Their names spilling from your lips in a mantra of need. "Oh fuck" Mingyu cries "I cant hold it anymore, I'm gonna cum" His thrusts start to falter. "Where do you want me to cum pretty" he grunts out, very obviously trying to hold off his release. "In me" you whine "please want both you to fill me up" "Shit" you hear Mingyu whines as his hips slam into you and still. You can feel him twitching inside of you as he paints the walls of your asshole white with his cum. The sensation of feeling Mingyu's cock twitching through your thin walls sends Seungcheol over the edge to. "fuck, fuck, fuckkk" he grunt out as his hips still as well. He dumps ropes of hot cum deep into your tight cunt. "Holly shit" he breaths out into the side of your neck. 

Mingyu grips your hips as he slowly eases himself out. You hiss at the soreness left behind. "I'm sorry" he says as he's pressing light kisses onto your back and shoulder blades. "Its okay Min'" you breath out. You grip the back of the couch as you begin to lift yourself up off of Seungcheol, his hands coming to your hips to help you unsheathe his softening cock from your pussy. He guides you back down onto his lap, cradling you as he grabs a blanket to wrap around you. You nestle your head into the crook of his neck as he hugs you to his body. Mingyu coming to sit next to you, rubbing your back. "You did amazing Y/N" Seungcheol says as he kisses the top of your head. 

"Yeah, you took both of us so well" Mingyu adds. You look up smiling at both of them. "I'm so glad I have the both of you" you say to them. "For as long as you want, right Seungcheol" Mingyu says before kissing your cheek "Right" Says Seungcheol "Min', why don't you go start a bath for her so she can relax, while I go heat the oven, I'll make cookies" He smiles up at his friend before he left the room. Seungcheol lifts and places you on the couch gently before exiting for the kitchen. There you sat naked, with both your roommates cum leaking out of both your holes. You smile to yourself, realizing the next roommate night was your night to pick the activity, and you knew exactly what the three of you would be doing.

[stsgluver]

𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 — gojo satoru

synopsis. the first years find old videos burned onto a dvd of you, satoru, shoko, and geto from 2005/6.

wc. 2.7k

tags. gojo x reader, you+shoko+gojo+geto being in the same year and besties, set in the present and past, fluff

next part / series masterlist

"is it recording?" asked one muffled but familiar voice. the screen was black, the camera covered by something or someone. the pitch was marginally higher than they were used to but yuji and nobara grinned at each other as they recognised the voice of their teacher.

"how can anyone see when you're holding it like that?" this one was more feminine and unfamiliar to the two - but not for megumi who smiled sadly at the laptop screen.

"give it to me idiots," this was another female voice. there was some more chattering in the background but the audio hadn’t been picked up over the rustling of the camera being passed around. then, for a moment, the screen goes completely white as it focused on the figure in front: shoko ieiri. 

she turned the camera around so it was looking at her three peers all wearing the same sheepish grins. "you hadn't even taken off the lens cover." 

“it was satoru’s fault,” the other female sorcerer accused the white haired boy next to her.

“no it wasn’t!” gojo whined, geto on the other side of him stifling a laugh at his childish mannerisms. he looked in disbelief that his best friend was not defending him, “why am i always the scapegoat?”

yuuji paused the video to point at the unknown girl, “who is that?”

megumi hesitated for a brief second before responding, “yn.”

“you knew her?” nobara raised a brow at her dark-haired friend. he was often stoic and kept to himself but they’d been together for several months now and even she could pick up on the uncomfortable change in his demeanour. 

megumi hummed, avoiding eye contact as he stared at the paused screen, “mhm.” you looked happy in the clip, always amused when it came to winding up gojo. he’d seen it with his own two eyes.

“did she leave jujutsu?” yuuji pondered aloud.

“something like that,” he swallowed thickly.

nobara gave megumi’s hand a light squeeze, but didn’t say anything. megumi had initially been against the idea of looking through the dvd to see their teacher’s teenage years at jujutsu high - this explained why.

yuuji, on the other hand, was oblivious to the interaction, more eager to see a young gojo (and nanami too, he hoped). he reached across nobara to unpause the video without another question.

"can we just do what we actually came out here to do?” geto asked in an exasperated tone, but he was clearly smiling as he spun gojo around so the two could go back to back. “who's taller, me or satoru?" the two had been arguing over the fact all morning so it had been shoko to suggest recording it so that there was actual evidence that neither could deny.

before either could stand fully straight against one another, you interrupted with no hesitation, "suguru." gojo’s eyes widened and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at his expression.

"you didn't even look properly!" he threw his hands out dramatically and you shrugged, dismissing his distress.

"didn't need to," you waved a finger up and down, “shorty.”

there was a brief second of back and forth between you and gojo, no actual words being said until his pout lifted into a mischievous smile. that had you spinning on your heel in a futile attempt to try and escape him but it took only three of his strides till he’s got you in his hold, fingers tickling your sides.

“can we go ten minutes without you two flirting?” shoko complained over your laughs from behind the camera, panning over to geto who was shaking his head with a similar look that she undoubtedly wore too.

yuuji’s eyes were blown wide when he paused it again, looking at megumi in disbelief (even nobara had to sneak a glance for an explanation because she’d never seen their teacher so physically close to anyone like that). “sensei had a girlfriend?” 

“sort of,” megumi shrugged.

“oh my-” yuuji begun to exclaim but megumi cut him off by placing a hand over his wide mouth.

“if you ask any more questions, i will turn it off.”

instantaneously, yuuji mimicked zipping his mouth, locking it and throwing the key away, settling back into his seat. the dark-haired teenager unpaused the video.

the clip comes back to life again, gojo with his arms wrapped around your centre as he ceases his tickling in full view. his sleeves are rolled up so it’s visible on camera where you had dug your nails into his skin trying to prise his hands from you (very unsuccessfully, might you add). “that was not flirting. this is flir- ow i just wanted a kiss.” 

the camera dropped as shoko laughed and the video ended several seconds later, the screen swapped back to one full of files and thumbnails. there had to be well over a hundred videos, maybe more, all ranging from a few seconds to even an hour for some. 

nobara scrolled down until she came across a clip with gojo as the thumbnail. this one, she decided.

the video buffered for a brief moment before beginning. this one was outside this time, somewhere on the grounds of the high school. gojo had forgone his uniform jacket once more and his glasses were perched on the edge of his nose as he slightly bent down to hear what was being said.

shoko was the one holding the camera again – as she often was – and the one asking questions, "what's your favourite thing about being a sorcerer?"

gojo pretended to deeply ponder the question, tapping his index finger against his chin thoughtfully. just as he went to answer the question, voices came from behind both of them: two other students began walking towards them from a path on the other side of the open field.

“is that yn and geto?” gojo asked to no one in particular. he held up a finger to shoko as his feet were naturally leading him in the direction of the two people he care for most, “one second.”

shoko panned back to herself, nose scrunched up and a cigarette between her lips. she looked like she was going to complain about gojo’s inability to stay focused on one task at a time when she too got distracted by her friends in the distance. 

"someone's in love," she sung as she spun around, pointing at you and gojo and then her mouth as she pretended to gag. gojo had already presumably checked in on geto and now his whole focus was on making sure you’d come back from the mission in one piece. in the footage he pressed one long kiss to your forehead, hugging you closely to his body. “i need to smoke.”

yuuji was practically squirming in his seat, itching to say something. one sharp look from nobara, however, and he thinks better of it. the orange-haired sorcerer went back to her scrolling, finding a short fifteen second clip that lasted only twenty seconds.

initially, the screen was dark once more as it was being readjusted and then a young male, no older than sixteen came into view with a wide smile. “i’m going to be japan’s strongest sorcerer one day!”

“yu!” you appeared behind him, passing him a soft drink bottle, “of course you are! best the world has ever seen.”

“after me,” geto, who was sat next to haibara, joked as he looked at his junior with a fondness that you shared. there were some more voices and haibara glancing between talking sorcerers but nothing overtly interesting in the final few seconds.

“i have no idea who that was,” megumi admitted, and yuuji nodded nonchalantly like his silence wasn’t killing him. even the dark-haired sorcerer couldn’t stop himself from being somewhat amused by his peer.

megumi was the one to scroll down this time. he was more methodical than nobara had been and looked at several thumbnails before deciding finally on one of you and gojo. he recognised the date underneath as a date gojo had scribbled on the back of a photo that he kept in his wallet.

you were holding the camera this time, pointing it at gojo who was staring up at the clear night sky. it was well past curfew and you were both going to be in for it when yaga found you but the conflict to come could not be felt in the serenity of the fireflies’ buzzing.

“look at how beautiful the stars are,” you said aloud, though you’re entire focus was on your boyfriend in front of you. he turned to agree (and probably tell you some random fact that he knew about one particular constellation) only to catch your sly smile and your heart-eyed stare.

there was a split second as his eyes darted between yours and the camera that he almost appeared… nervous? bashful? but he quickly recovered with an eye roll, “you’re literally blessed to even be in my presence.”

you panned the camera around to yourself where you stared at gojo with a raised eyebrow. “if you can’t handle my rizz just say so.” gojo snorted and you could only keep up the facade for another second before you were giggling too. 

he rolled closer to you so he could lay his head on your chest and you lifted the camera higher to make sure you both stayed within the frame.

“smile toru,” you poked his cheek lightly and pointed up. it was odd for his students to be watching this – to see their powerful sensei with his guard completely down, tired, and in love. gojo did as he was told, ocean blue eyes almost illuminating under the night’s shadow.

it was that moment that he had saved as a photo; gojo smiling up at the camera with his body covering yours whilst you look down with him with more love than he thought he could ever deserve.

“hey! i was watching that,” yuuji complained after megumi pressed escape, cutting the video short.

megumi sniffed lightly, but shrugged it off by giving yuuji a distraction, “you choose the next one.” this was sufficient enough to distract the minor disappointment and yuuji was quick to find one he liked.

“yn’s crying! i wonder what happened,” yuuji hurriedly clicked onto the video, invested in the life of a sorcerer he could never know.

“guess who broke up again,” shoko said in a sing-song tone as you glared at her. she was sat at her desk and you were on her bed, a mountain of used tissues behind you. your face was red and blotchy from tears and you clearly did not want to be recorded right then.

“it’s not funny,” you sniffled, “and it’s just a break.”

you mumbled the last part and shoko deadpanned to the camera, mockingly mouthing what you had just said. “still disrupting my beauty sleep by coming in my room and crying,” she turned in her chair towards you, “believe it or not i don’t just wake up looking this flawless.”

“ha ha,” you uttered sarcastically, “it’s not my fault i love him.”

“you’re seventeen,” shoko dragged out, “there’ll be other ones.”

you stopped your pity party for a brief second to look shoko dead in the eye, “have you seen his bank account? there will not be other ones.” you both broke out into laughter almost instantly, the healing sorcerer agreeing with your argument.

shoko pointed to the camera, “gojo satoru i hope you see this. your girl is a gold digger confirmed.”

the video then gets cut off once a pillow has been launched directly at shoko’s head.

“next one! next one! they have to get back together!” nobara insisted. megumi lets her play the next video, he didn’t tell her about what he knew — that he’d seen you and gojo in love and together well after the video. that you survived the tribulations that came with being a teenager and overcame more as sorcerers than the average couple should have to deal with.

“so it’s been…” shoko held up one finger, then two, then glanced to geto for help.

“three days and six hours,” he recounted, knowing exactly what she was referring to.

“three days and six hours since gojo and yn called it quits and now here they are, making out at an official jujutsu event very not subtly,” shoko informed the camera, swapping the view so that it was in fact exposing your escapades at the formal event. it was nothing overtly raunchy, just gojo pressing you to a wall as he kissed your lips. still, there’s a time and a place.

“are you seriously recording this?” geto asked.

shoko spun the camera to him, “you want the camera on you?”

geto winked, adjusting his tie and leaning back on the bench as he manspread. “i look good right?” shoko shook the camera to say ‘no’ and he shrugged, pulling out a lighter for the cigarette he held between his lips. he lit his and then offered it to shoko.

just as she grabbed the lighter, a loud crash came from the direction that the two of you had been. somehow in the thirty seconds that she had been focused on geto, you two had stopped your kissing session, zenin naoyo had showed up and gojo was throwing punches with the zenin.

geto dropped his cigarette as he quickly raced to help out his best friend. shoko too followed after, running with the camera facing the fight as she called out, “the girls are fighting!”

“i bet sensei won,” yuuji smugly said as the video ended. 

nobara scoffed, taking back control of the laptop as she tried to find their next video, “obviously. he never loses – especially not to zenin naoya.” unable to make a decision with the hundreds to choose from, nobara closed her eyes, scrolled and clicked on a random video.

you and shoko were the two on screen, sat at a table seating on the train. 

“shopping haul!” you held up the bags excitedly and shoko hushed you, pointing to the seats across from you and mouthing ‘they’re sleeping’. you whispered an ‘oops’ and briefly showed a young nanami and haibara resting his head on his shoulder. 

quietly lifting up the three massive bags of shopping the two of you had between yourselves (a difficult task given the rustling of the paper), you began to lay out your items on the table. the both of you took it in turns, shoko showing off the new lighters and lipsticks she’d bought followed by you presenting several tops that you’d probably never get the chance to wear given the fact you were always in uniform.

“why are we stuck so far away when those two are just sleeping?” gojo rudely interrupted your little haul from where he and geto sat. shoko laughed, grabbing the camera to point at the two who were sat facing away two rows down. the train was pretty busy so they’d been lucky to grab the table. gojo and geto were left to fend for themselves.

gojo was peering down the isle, a pout on his lips whilst geto knelt on his chair and held his hands up pleadingly for… you two to kick your two sleeping juniors out of their peaceful seats so they can disturb your peace? there was no way that was happening.

“they’re not allowed on the adult table because they almost got us kicked out of the restaurant,” shoko explained with a tut and you oh-so-solemnly shook your head in disappointment.

the white haired sorcerer rested his head back against the chair, rubbing his brow in a frustrated manner, “the old lady started it.”

geto placed a hand on gojo’s shoulder, waving a middle finger to the camera with the other. “don’t waste your breath, satoru. they probably paid her to trip over your chair.”you and shoko glanced at each other with knowing grins before both of you started mimicking two people kissing with your hands, "mwah mwah mwah, and they're both boys."

a/n. will there be subsequent parts to this? yes most definitely. this is not proofread and very messy so if you made it the whole way ty and I hoped you enjoyed this <33333 this might be my most favourite thing to write so far

[baka-bakeneko]

Minute Man - Logan Howlett x F!Reader [Shortie]

tags: doggy-style, extended f*ck, wrap it before you tap it psa, delayed org*sm, service dom Logan Howlett, Wolverine creampie, aftercare cuddle

wc: 441

synopsis: Logan has been at it for almost an hour....

a/n: scratching, yowling, digging a hole; thank you Megan Thee Stallion for hatching such a dastardly idea [i don't need a minute man/ fuck me for some hours ~ Boa]

You had lost the feeling of your knuckles clutching the bedsheets, you'd been holding on for so long. It was mind-numbing, overstimulating, your mouth gaped open with droll panting. Logan's hands gripped at your hips, his pace relentless as he speared into you.

Every thrust of Logan's drew out a whine, your knees buckling as you were ready to give up and succumb. His short nails dug into your skin, his hips slapping against your thighs with a echoing thwap. Your bodies were slicked with a film of sweat, your pussy gripping tighter around Logan's length with each stroke.

"L-Logan," you mewled, finally releasing your white knuckle grip on the bedsheets to brace Logan's hairy thigh. You cried out as Logan thrust harsher in an instant, ringing at your inside walls.

Your chest lowered to the bed, your nipples chafing against the cotton. Your stomach turned, your hand gripping tighter at Logan's leg. Your breaths came out as shivers, your calves quaking around Logan's knees.

"Fuck, I'm gonna...I'm gonna..." you tried to say, gasping with his thrusts slowing, getting longer in the stroke.

"Do it," Logan barked, moving a hand to rest on the small of your back.

When you were just coaxed enough into doing so, you were stricken with a sharp hand on your ass. You whimpered, spiraling undone and turning your face into the bedsheets to cry out.

Logan paused, rolling his shoulders back to relish in your pulsating walls, then took grip of the back of your neck to pull you out of the bed. "I-I need to hear you," he grit, suddenly gasping on his words with his dry throat.

You moaned, backing onto Logan's length, and panting your praises.

"Fuck, yes, Logan, God." Your words were metered into singular phrases, your body alight with euphoria, sweat and Logan's body heat.

"Fuck yes," he repeated, exhaling sharply as he finally released inside of you.

It was sudden, gushing into you and dousing your inner walls with further heat. You hissed, your body floating down to the bed with Logan's bed to collapse over yours.

He sprawled over you, running his hands up your sides before taking your hands and stretching you out under him. Logan kissed at your temple, nosed into your neck to inhale your new scent.

He curled his arms around you, turned you onto your sides. Logan pulled you further into his hold, his cock lazily flexing inside you as he growled.

You felt him shift on the bed, his arm pulling up to tuck under your head. You tilted your head back at Logan, noted his eyes fluttering to fight off sleep.

[hees-mine]

Just casual - L. heeseung

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader!

Warnings: mentions of smut, cursing, arguments, mentions of an ex, alcohol, jealousy, angst, sunghoon is mentioned, small font is text.

WC: 2,8k full fic

-

“Had a really shit day at work. Wanna come over to make it better after I get off?”

That’s the text you received from your situationship it was nine at night his typical time to hit you up.

Smiling at the notification you replied almost right away since you were practically waiting on him to text as he always did this time of night.

“Sorry to hear that, baby. I’d love to come over and relieve your stress.”

“That’s my pretty girl. There’s still a key under the mat. I’ll be just about twenty minutes, so you can head out now.”

“On my way ;)”

Everything about those exchanged messages didn’t sound like you weren’t dating each other, but that’s just the thing.

You don’t know what you and him have going on. You text good morning and good night, but then there’s barely any communication throughout the day unless it’s to meet up and fuck.

Neither of you guys are seeing other people yet you’re not exclusive with each other.

When you see him talking with other girls you get jealous but you don’t say anything cause he’s not yours you have no right to get possessive.

Heeseung tells himself the same thing when he randomly hits up the same club as you and sees you chatting with some guy about who knows what, but apparently, it’s funny cause you’re laughing non fucking stop it makes him feel so upset that he’s not the one behind your all laughs.

But who is he to intervene cause you and him aren’t committed it’s just casual sex with a little bit of sweet talk in between.

Regardless though, he takes pleasure in knowing he’s the only man you’re letting inside you, and he also takes pleasure knowing you’re the only pussy he’s going inside cause no one could ever compare to you, and that’s one of the biggest reasons he’s keeping quiet about his feelings is because he doesn’t want to fuck this up.

So he’s playing the little game of being your situationship while also teetering on the bounds of crossing that line into something more, something unknown.

Something that could ultimately change your guy's relationship for worse or for better.

He can’t really gauge your feelings for him duh if he could he would have asked you out by now.

At times he thinks there could be something more between you two, those times being when you suck him off like you can’t get enough of his dick in your throat or when he tells you he’s stressed and you happily tell him that you’re coming over and you’ll do all the work bouncing up and down on his hard thick cock cumming multiple times all while massaging his shoulders praising him and making him release inside you at the same time releasing all his pent up frustration.

But then, when he tries to reciprocate by cleaning you up and attempting to cuddle afterward, you always say you have to go, or you have work in the morning, leaving him in a cold bed confused because you two just had a good, intimate moment together far too intimate to just be casual but not enough for him to claim that there was without a doubt more going on between you two.

He’s so torn though cause he wants to make a move but he doesn’t know how so he’s playing it as he goes by asking you over and then he’d have to see where the night leads but hopefully it’ll end with you and him together.

Hopefully.

You arrived shorty after he texted using the key he told you about under the mat you unlocked the door and took a seat on his couch waiting for his arrival while leisurely scrolling on your phone.

You scrolled and scrolled some more until you got another notification this time on your ig you saw someone had tagged you in a photo assuming it was one of your friends you smile tapping on it but your smile turns into a deep frown once you see a picture of him at a pub the photo accompanied by little heart eye emojis and the time shown that it had just been taken.

He said he was getting off work. Didn’t he? So why is he making you wait for no reason when he’s out at the bar with some other girl? Why is he wasting your time when, obviously, he wants to be with someone else?

You rolled your eyes at the picture, frustratedly gathering your things along with your keys. If he wanted his dick wet, she could do it for him, but you were not about to sit around and be there at his beck and call.

Sure, he didn’t owe you anything, and you shouldn’t be jealous if he fucked her and then came home and fucked you too, but you were, and that, combined with the fact he just left you high and dry, making you wait a whole hour with no response.

Yeah, fuck no, especially cause not only was he with someone else it just happened to be your favorite spot too.

You were about to leave and never come back but for a moment you had enough clarity to suppress your emotions and you sat back down deciding to wait for him because after tonight you were done with him you couldn’t handle being his situationship if the moment he entertained other girls you were going to feel like this so the simplest thing for you to do would be to just call things off with him.

Heeseung wasn’t planning to be out way past the time he originally planned but it was for good reason he knew there was a spot not far from his home you liked to frequent it was a little pub that served beer and food.

You’d always post your order on your story, and he had it memorized, so he was gonna surprise you first when he came over before you guys did the do heck tonight didn’t even have to be about sex. He’d be happy just relaxing, watching some TV, and eating.

If you were okay with that.

It was a bit domestic yes but this was what he meant by teetering on the lines this was merely him keeping his foot half in and halfway out to test the waters of your guys “relationship”.

And someone tell him why out of all nights, he runs into his cheater bitch of an ex in the pub as soon as he stepped in.

“Heeseung! What a surprise!” She cheers, her annoying voice making him clench his jaw.

Without his consent, she wraps her hand around his shoulder, but he immediately peels it off, disgusted by the thought of her even touching him after what she did.

“Yeah” he mumbles uninterested. “Real surprise” he says with sarcasm it was in fact no surprise seeing her there anywhere alcohol could be found she was there too.

She pouts because of his passive behavior and again tries to touch him, but he avoids it. “Don’t be like that. Besides, it was years ago. I don’t even date him anymore. He never treated me as good as you. I’m sorry, it was a mistake,” she lies, trying to use her charm to win him over, but heeseung had better places to be and things to do than be inconvenienced by the likes of her.

He rolled his eyes, already losing his patience. “First of all, there’s only one girl allowed to touch me, so keep your hands to yourself. Second, that sounds like a you problem. I got someone great now. Sorry it didn’t work out with you and that douchebag, but I couldn’t care less what you do. You’ll never have me again 'cause I already belong to someone else,” he declares, walking to the counter, ready to order and go home and see you. Already, today was more than what he could deal with. His stupid job and his even stupider ex showing up unexpectedly just ruined everything. The only upside was that you’d be waiting for him at his apartment.

As usual of his nasty ex, she used the opportunity to ruin his night even more. She smirked, taking a picture of heeseung’s back while he was at the counter ordering she posted it out of spite for the way he just treated her and tagged you, knowing you’d been hanging around him by the occasional stories he’d post of you and your name in his followers list she stalked the both of you on your socials and since she was jealous of him moving on with someone else, she knew if you saw him with a girl, it’d stir up some commotion.

After Heeseung had gotten the food and drinks, he was finally headed to see you. He was gonna text but decided against it since he’d be home soon anyway.

He arrived at his place and searched for his keys, giddily unlocking and opening the door. Seeing you, this is what he needed after a long bullshit day and night.

“Hey!” He greets you with a smile, showing you a bag with what you assumed was food.

“Hi,” you replied with a fake smile that he didn’t quite catch as he took off his shoes.

“I had such a shit day, baby” he plops down next to you after setting the food on the small coffee table in the middle of the room.

“I bet” you replied dryly he was in the action of laying his head on your lap when your phone came into view his eyes widened at the photo obviously shocked by what he was seeing.

“What the fuck” he mutters, reaching for your phone and analyzing the picture, stunned by the lowness of his ex. It’s already bad enough that she touched him without his permission, and now she even took pictures and posted them and tagged you?

If he wasn’t already angry running into her he’d be fuming now this was a new level of pettiness.

“Yeah, that’s what I said” You snatched the phone back from him, upset that he had the nerve to act surprised like he wasn’t the one in that picture and also wasn’t the one who fucking stood you up.

“Y/n, hold o-, “ he calls out to you.

“Don’t you owe me no explanation I was going to leave, but I figure since I'm already here, I might as well do it in person whatever we have going on, I want to end it casually hooking up is one thing, but for you to fuck some random girl and then keep me waiting with the hopes of fucking me next is low heeseung, and I am not gonna sit here and be made to look like a fool” you sat up grabbing your stuff and heeseung did too immediately holding your wrist and holding you still. “Let go,” you resisted, shaking his hand off.

“I don’t owe you an explanation, but I want to give you one. What you saw, that’s bullshit. My ex took that and then posted it. She did it on purpose-“

You cut him off laughing hysterically because he must really think you’re fucking stupid. “Save it, heeseung. I don’t need to hear it. Go be happy with your little bar girls.”

Instead of deescalating the situation, he grew frustrated the day finally catching up to him and all the other shit that transpired today, especially now that he knew the evil shit his ex did that was foul even for her to sabotage him like that, and the worst part is that it fucking worked cause you saw it and now you wouldn’t let him explain.

His brows grew taut as he ran a hand through his hair. “Y/n, just listen to me, ple-“

You sighed, not in the mood to hear any more of his bullshit excuses. If he wanted other girls, he could have them, but you would have no dealings with him anymore. “I’m over it.”

And that was it, his last ounce of self-control out the window just like that. “Oh okay, you’re over it, but when you want to be draped all over guys at the club, that’s okay,” he scoffed, and you turned to look at him, offended by his choice of words and also not expecting him to speak to you like that when he never has before. “A girl takes one picture of me, and it’s a problem. You and I are not even together, so why the fuck does it matter anyway.”

Now, that hurt your feelings more than you’d like to admit, but he was right. You had no say in what he did. “I see you with other girls, too, so what does it matter? It doesn’t, and I never made you wait a whole fucking hour after I texted you. I was coming over to see you, and I sure never fucked a guy before seeing you,” you said angrily.

“I can’t be sure of that. Who knows? You probably did fuck someone before me, and now you’re projecting 'cause I’d never do that shit to you, y/n, and you know that.”

“Oh, and now I’m projecting how sweet,” you fake smiled at him.

“Well, you’re sitting here bitching about how long I made you wait and how I’m seeing other girls. You sure I even have time for you at all? If I had known you’d be this fucking needy, I would have never fucked you, to begin with,” he didn’t even know what he was saying at the time, but the argument took a complete turn, and he let everything get to him the anger from today the jealousy the hurt over the way you were speaking to him and not believing him.

It was all a mess, and the initial conversation was seemingly lost at this point.

The things he was bringing up should have been a calm conversation about his feelings and where your guy's relationship was headed, but instead, this happened, and he couldn’t just stop before he said some fucked up shit.

Your throat dried up at that unable to form an argument back cause now your anger had calmed and the only thing you could feel was regret and sadness.

You couldn’t believe he really felt that way about you.

Just when you thought he might feel the same for you, he says that only further proving that he had no real attachment to you other than using your body for sex and a quick nut.

“Since you’re so thirsty for attention and dick, then why don’t you get the fuck out? Go run off to your friend Sunghoon. I’m sure he’d be happy to provide stop wasting time on me, who’s out apparently fucking other girls.”

The room had gone dead silent tears were welling in your eyes from his words, but you just had to get back at him for all the foul shit he had just said to you. Besides, it didn’t matter. You and him were definitely, without a doubt, done after this. “You’re right. I will go to Sunghoon. He’s more loyal and better in bed than you could ever even dream of fuck you, Lee heeseung” You gave him the finger as you walked out and slammed his door shut.

Fuck.

Heeseung thought this was not the way it was supposed to go.

His hands were shaking from all the anger running through his body and he took it out on the first thing he laid his eyes on.

He grabbed the bag of food he bought specifically for you, slamming it on the ground and stopping it. “Fuck fuck fuck!” He shouted loudly, probably too loud for his apparent complex, but he didn’t give a fuck.

He just lost the one person he cared about he had no fucks to give right now.

Feeling hopeless, he sat back down on the couch after his outburst. Now, the sadness started to settle in as he buried his head in his hands, sniffling softly, his eyes filling with hot tears, showing just how much everything in the day had affected him.

He wanted to chase after you, but after that, what could he even say to redeem himself?

Why did he talk to you like that?

Why wouldn’t you just hear him out?

And more importantly, why weren’t you here right now, sitting next to him on the couch, watching some stupid show you both liked and eating like he planned?

But what does it matter now anyway? Apparently, you like Sunghoon more than him, and the thought makes his heart ache the fact that you were seeing and fucking someone other than him breaking him inside, but he shouldn’t be affected by it cause, after all, you and him were just casual

-

More exclusive works on my Patreon currently on sale for 4$ ;)

[orimuraa]

˚˖𓍢ִ໋`🌿:✧ I like the view right now - OT7

(synopsis) 🀨 enhypen when you’re shorter than them ✧

ot7 enhypen x short fem!reader 🀨 fluff, crack 🀨 reader is shorter than enha 🀨 teasing, kisses, petnames 🀨 wc 751

𝑳𝒆𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈 - 이희승

"babe where'd you go?" heeseung asked, scratching his head. the audacity of this man!! you jumped up from in front of him, making yourself now visible to the freakishly tall man. "oh there you are!! i've been looking everywhere for you!" he teased, a wide smile adorning his face while a playful scowl adorned yours. "hmph!" you pouted, crossing your arms and turning away, knowing exactly what heeseung's reaction would be. "no baby! i was just joking!" he giggled, turning you back towards him and crouching down to kiss you. "i love you my shortie."

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 - 박종성

you were currently in the kitchen, struggling to get something from one of your higher up pantries when jay walked in. "woah there princess, what're you doing there?" he smirked, knowing exactly what your issue was. "ugh- i can't get this- thing!" with one big jump, you failed to knock down the bowl you were trying to grab, causing jay to walk over and grab it with ease. "jeez! why would anyone ever want such high up cabinets!? who even owns this house?" you questioned, turning to jay with a hand on your hip. "uhh baby? this is your house?..." he stated, laughing at your sulkiness. darn, you needed new cabinets.

𝑺𝒊𝒎 𝑱𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒖𝒏 - 심재윤

you and jake were waiting in line for a store when you suddenly felt a wait on the top of your head. "wha-?" looking up, you were silenced by the sight of your boyfriend resting his arm on top of your head. he was even leaning a bit!! "hey mister! i didn't consent you to use my head as an arm rest!" you pout, pushing off his arm. "oh, hehe, sorry sweets! you're just the perfect height for it.." he chuckles, planting a kiss to your head but not without bending down. "ah! i'm not that short! am i?" you shoot back, scrunching together your eyebrows. "well...ummm...oh! i think our order's ready!" "yah! sim jaeyun!"

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒏 - 박성훈

"hey hoonie? i need help getting something please!" you call out to your extremely tall boyfriend. soon enough, he walks in, a small smirk already on his face from knowing exactly what the problem was. "top shelf?" is all he asks, his smirk getting bigger. you hate to boost his ego, but you nod. "the medium plates please.." the last bit is mumbled. he quickly yet easily grabs the plates, handing them to you. he then crouches down to meet you eye level, confusing you a bit. "damn, this height can't see anything!" he laughs, straightening his legs out. "yah!!" how rude...(jk all is forgiven cuz he's park sunghoon)

𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒐𝒐 - 김선우

"baby- oh! you're so short!" sunoo was looking for you when he bumped into you in the hallway. whenever you two would stand side by side, he would always make it a point to tease you for it. he had just caught you, making sure you didn't fall back from the collision when he pulled you forward, noticing how his eyes met a couple inches from the top of your head. "i'm just kidding!" he smiles. "you're only a bit short.." he teased, kissing your forehead before running away. aish, that guy..he wasn't even that tall compared to his other members!! one day you would get him back...maybe with the help of ni-ki...

𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒘𝒐𝒏 - 양정원

jungwon and you would be walking downtown and he would see a small plushie of your favorite animal, that was a very small and short one. "jagi look! it's you! the height is literally so accurate!" he laughed, holding up the short plush to you. "yah! yang jungwon!!" you shouted, catching the attention of a few passing customers. "ok i'm sorry! you're not that short..but you're still my shortie!" he laughed again, his dimples showing even more. he then crouched down to your eye level, kissing your lips before laughing once again. this kid..

𝑵𝒊𝒔𝒉����𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒂 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒊 - 西村 力

"how's the view from down there?" "i- what?" you were so flustered and taken aback by ni-ki's sudden question, but also knowing exactly what he was doing. he was teasing you again of your guys's height difference. "hey! it's not my fault i didn't grow up to like, 6'3!" you forwned, making a pouty face at ni-ki. "and it's not my fault you're like, 2'4," he smirked back, laughing at your scowl. "take that back!!" "make me shortie!" he laughed, ruffling your hair. "nah, but don't worry, you're so cute at this height," (SOFT RIKI OMFG AJHSDB) he smiled, slowly rising onto his tip toes to become EVEN taller. "hey!! get back down here!"

hahah this was so funny cuz i'm so much shorter than all of enha and even tho jake, sunoo, and jungwon seem so short since they're the shortest ones in enha, they literally tower over me...

anyway! if you enjoyed, please reblog and like! feedback is also appreciated very much!

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries, @k-films, @k-nets

⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jongbean

[couch-potato28]

Imagine being a Blue Lock manager! ⚽️

VERSION VIII.

(a/n: dropping 3 eps cause i was gone for like half a month, so enjoy this holy trinity 🤌 thank you for your support 🫶)

Warning-none

wc: 1k

ALSO: tags @ttheggrimrreaper ✌️

——————

FROM THE PROLOGUE:

“Congratulations L/N Y/N! Based on your results, you've earned your place in Blue Lock as the manager of player number…

…69, Karasu Tabito.”

Smirking at his jersey number, you instinctively glanced around, wondering if anyone else had found it just as amusing. But as your eyes swept the room, it quickly became clear—everyone was far too anxious to notice such details unlike your brilliant self, of course.

Taking a closer look at the guy, you memorized his most prominent features, making a little note to yourself to find someone with an oddly specific hairstyle and a cute mole under his left eye.

Exiting the room, you followed the signs leading to Anri, who handed you some documents before sending you off to find your partner.

Imagine being Karasu Tabito’s manager, known as the assassin.

——————

Karasu Tabito, who moved on the field like he was flying, the ball looking like a feather on his foot. You, amazed by his movements, quietly stood near the benches until the whistle blew, indicating a break for the boys. Snapping back to reality, you jogged up to him with a warm smile across your lips, introducing yourself. Raising a brow, he did the same, his gaze sharp, yet curious.

“So, yer my new manager, huh?” he asked again, still unsure 'cause you looked too lovely to be assigned to him. Maybe Yukimiya was the lucky bastard?

“Yup. Somehow managed to get myself a nice player.” you cracked a smile, trying to break the awkwardness. He smirked at your response before initiating another conversation.

——————

•Karasu who clicks with you immediately. The conversations flow smoothly, and getting to know each other seems to be the easiest task for you yet. (he analyzed you waaay before you spoke to him)

•Fun fact, the first thing he requested from you was better hair wax saying the one in the facility makes his ends split. :)

•He also has the ability to remember the most trivial details that you have shared with him about yourself—something he gladly takes advantage of, either to tease the hell out of you or simply make you flustered by casually bringing them up.

•Extremely attentive, and always notices if you’re struggling. He’ll also offer help with paperwork if needed. Other times, he prefers to yap or test your patience by hiding your pens, reading aloud or giving unwanted comments.

•Karasu, who’s sometimes waaay too relaxed for his own good, yet he has never once made you scold him for anything important. He likes to arrive just on time for practice, only to complain about training all while flawlessly following the instructions, and if there’s any competition—be it big or small—he will make sure to be in the top 3.

•Also, petnames. Not the flirty ones, but something like “boss” or “shortie” that makes your eyes roll from the amount of time he uses them. He’s pretty clingy as well, following you around all day, and if anyone tries to disrespect you, they gotta deal with him first.

•Karasu is the king of reassurance. If he sees you comparing yourself to other managers, he will stop whatever he’s doing to give you a motivational speech. Rare moments of him being sentimental, where he makes you repeat over and over that ‘he wouldn’t be here without you’ or ‘don’t you dare switch to other players’.

•Has a lot of respect for you as well. The way you always put him first, making sure he’s alive and breathing. The fact that you can keep up with him is impressive too, and he’ll never admit it, but he’s been amused since day 1.

——————

AFTER THE U20 MATCH…

•Karasu takes training more seriously—not that he never did—just that he’s now putting in more effort and energy than before. Pushes himself harder than ever, yet he still doesn’t let you work overtime.

•Has a habit of pushing your laptop closed or simply snatching your clipboard out from your hands, if he sees you staying up later than usual.

•He’s also more engaged in the analyzing, actually taking notes and listening to your opinions before asking questions and such.

•Karasu will never miss a chance to tell you “yer messy hair is funny” or pat you on the head when you’re angry saying “relax manager-san, i’m sorry ‘kay? forgive me please, ‘cause anger will stop yer growth at this rate”

•Tutoring him is like gambling—there’s a 50% chance of him actually paying attention and doing what you said, or he will lazily finish half of the exercises you give him before he passes out on the table. Weirdly good at guessing which nouns are feminine or masculine.

•Loves to listen to your voice thanks to his fetish, so don’t even try to give him a textbook to read. Won’t work unless you read it for him like it’s daycare, while he lays on his arm, looking up to you, admiring every inch of your face.

•Interviews with him are a pain in the ass. Loves to sarcastically answer questions making you groan in the background. Karasu also never fails to appreciate you at least once in every interview he does, talking about how hardworking and supportive you are.

•Working with him means throwing insults and arguing about who’s smarter, but physical touch isn’t rare. Karasu has a habit of casually throwing his arm on your shoulders during break, laying his head on top of yours for support, or making you piggy back him back to his room.

•He’s very proud of you and will fight with anyone who thinks their manager is better. He also knows your schedule by heart, favorite snacks already on your desk when it’s a long day with a small note that says

“oi, am I the player or your manager? get some sleep”

•Karasu, who is fiercely loyal to you—granting privileges such as bossing him around, make him worry about your health, and be able witness his rare waxless hair. Switching managers? Not a chance. You’re stuck with him for life.

“Yer the one and only person I’m capable to work with”

[thebunnednun]

Still Human

★Pairing:Aged up!Pro Hero!Boyfriend!Tenya IIda x Secret Girlfriend!Reader

Synopsis: It's Valentines Day and what better way to celebrate with your uptight boyfriend than driving him crazy and knocking the self control out of him?

Warning: MDNI!!! Extreme Flirting/Fluff, suggestive themes, sexual nudity, touching and kissing, undressing together, preditor and prey, teasing Wc: long, No ageless blogs!

Make sure you read till the end! This is the 3rd installment of a Valentines day series. I also want to clarify that the pictures are to give inspo as to what your relationship looks like. They in no way shape or form are to indicate what you 'should' look like.

Taglist from both of my master lists because I need to feed the cats: @elarakive, @thealtofvalleyxdoodles, @the-dumpster-fire-of-life, @raendarkfaerie, @bunny-b34r, @icey-wonders, @adherethecomingofage, @karaartioli-blog, @meoweoeoeosme, @faithisxreading, @faithisidking, @oh-kayyy-stan-bts, @shortie-chocolate, @rosaline756. @sweetlike-sugarplum. @aespie, @dancingqueen276, @erensbbg, @lillizxzz, @1chaerry,

@valscodblog, @willnetries

The air in your office was thick with unspoken words, the dim glow of the city skyline casting long shadows across the mahogany desk where you sat, legs crossed, fingers lightly tapping against the polished surface. Iida stood before you, arms rigid at his sides, his jaw tight, eyes scanning your every movement like a detective analyzing a suspect.

“This ends tonight,” he declared, voice laced with authority, but you only tilted your head, watching him with cool, unreadable amusement.

“Does it now?” 

You leaned back in your chair, the silk of your blouse catching the light as you regarded him with the kind of detached confidence that made even the most seasoned officials wary. 

“Because from where I’m sitting, you look a lot more rattled than you’d like to admit.”

His lips parted slightly, a retort on the tip of his tongue, but he caught himself, rolling his shoulders in a desperate attempt to regain control of the situation. Control that was slipping through his fingers like sand.

You’re always like this. Always two steps ahead, always so collected, always able to see through the cracks in his armor. 

It’s infuriating.

"You think this is a game?" he asked, voice sharp.

You hummed, tilting your head as if considering. "Not at all, Turbo Hero Ingenium," you said smoothly, watching the way his brow twitched at the title. "I just find it fascinating how you always seem to end up here, in my office, at ungodly hours, demanding answers I have no obligation to provide.”

He inhaled sharply, hands balling into fists. 

"You—"

But before he could finish, your mask cracked, the slightest quirk of your lips betraying you, and then—

He groaned. "You're doing it again."

You leaned forward, resting your chin in your palm, a slow, wicked grin stretching across your face. 

"Doing what, exactly?"

"Toying with me," he grumbled, finally stepping out of his stance, the tension in his shoulders loosening as he pinched the bridge of his nose. You laughed, warm and full, the cold councilwoman persona dissolving into something far more teasing. 

"I wasn't sure how long we were going to keep the act up, but you lasted a lot longer this time," you mused, pushing yourself up from your seat and stepping around the desk to meet him. He sighed, shaking his head as you smoothed down the lapels of his jacket with a little too much familiarity. 

"This is the last time I let you talk me into roleplaying our first confrontation," he muttered, but you could hear the way his voice softened, the way he let you press close without a second thought.

"You say that, but I know you'll let me do it again."

"Only because I have no choice," he shot back, though the way his hands settled at your waist told a different story.

You smirked. "See? You're learning."

His jaw clenched, but it was less out of frustration now and more out of something else. Something that made you feel victorious every time you teased him past his limits.

"Are you going to be difficult all night, or will we actually pursue this date?"

You pretended to think. "Depends. How badly do you want to take me out?"

He exhaled sharply, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was fighting off a smile. 

"You drive me insane."

"And yet, here you are," you teased, running your fingers up his tie, straightening it with practiced ease before stepping back. Tenya looks at you for a long moment before sighing. "Fine. But if you so much as smirk at me at dinner—"

"You'll do what, exactly?"

He didn't have an answer. He never does when it comes to you. 

And that was exactly how you liked it.~

Tenya, ever the gentleman, gathers your belongings with practiced efficiency, straightening the strap of your handbag and ensuring your coat is neatly draped over his arm before turning to you with that unwavering sincerity of his.

"Will you be taking your car, or shall I drive you this evening?" he asks, adjusting his glasses.

You glance up at him, amused by the formality, before shaking your head. "I took the subway this morning." His eyes narrow ever so slightly, just enough for you to know he’s displeased. 

"You what?"

"You heard me."

"You should have called me," he says, voice tinged with mild frustration, but you can hear the concern beneath it. He shifts his weight, glancing at you like you’d personally offended his entire lineage.

"Tenya," you start, reaching to take your coat, but he keeps hold of it, waiting for a real answer.

You sigh, leaning against the desk. "I don’t feel like hard-launching our relationship just yet," you admit, watching the way his shoulders tense at your words. "The public’s opinion of us is fragile as it is. We are fragile in their eyes. If they found out I was dating you, I’d never hear the end of it. And if they found out about the other thing..." You trail off, leaving the weight of your past unspoken.

He exhales, adjusting his cuffs. "I understand," he says carefully, but you can tell he doesn’t like it. 

"I only wish you’d allow me to make your life easier where I can."

"You already do," you assure him, reaching up to smooth the line of his tie, feeling the warmth of his chest beneath your fingertips.

Typically, the public eats the two of you up. The fights, the passionate arguments, the well-televised spats—it’s a miracle no one has figured out you’re dating yet. An even bigger miracle that no one has put together that you, the ‘quirkless’ city councilwoman who refuses to move up in politics because you love the public too much, are the very same Black Widow villain that keeps slipping through the cracks.

Nope. 

To them, you’re just the sharp-witted politician who constantly butts heads with their beloved Ingenium, and he’s the perfect poster boy hero trying to put you in your place. If only they knew the truth—if only they knew that the hero commission had thought sending their most well-spoken hero against you would be their best bet at keeping you quiet.

They were wrong.

So very wrong.

Because from the moment you saw him—tall, broad, blue-eyed, built like an absolute dream—

You wanted to devour him. 

Not in a metaphorical sense, not in a political sense, but in a very real, very inappropriate sense.

You wanted to knock those glasses off his face, mess up his neatly combed hair, tear his cute button up and sweater vest combo, and send him back out into the public looking like he had been utterly ruined by you.

And you will.

Eventually.

But for now, you settle for fixing his tie with an extra little tug, just to remind him that no matter how much he tries to maintain control, you will always be the one to throw him off balance. Tenya clears his throat. 

"Then I’ll be taking you home to change," he says, finality in his tone, as if that somehow settles the matter. You smirk. "You’re awfully demanding for someone who just got roped into driving me around."

His fingers tighten slightly around your coat, jaw clenching as he exhales slowly. "You are insufferable."

"And yet again, here you are."

His glasses slip just slightly down his nose as he glares at you, and god, it takes everything in you not to reach up and finally bite him the way you so desperately wanting to all day.

"Come on, our reservation is at 8 sharp, and I am not rushing my bath again." You tug Iida toward the door, trying to keep him moving. "Getting sparked by electricity every time you sneeze because of wet hair is not as fun as your little Pokémon friend makes it seem."

He sighs, long-suffering, but still stops in his tracks to help you into your coat and scarf, pulling it up over your shoulders with practiced ease. His large hands smooth down the fabric of your shoulders, ever the gentleman, making sure you’re properly bundled up before gathering your things without a second thought. The small gestures don’t go unnoticed, even if you like to pretend they do.

With one last glance around your dimly lit office, you flick off the lights and lock the door, the sharp click echoing through the quiet hallway. The two of you take the back stairs down to the parking garage, heels tapping lightly against the concrete as the chill of the underground lot seeps in.

And then, with a sudden, mischievous glint in your eye, you tap his arm and bolt.

"Tag!"

You hear him exhale through his nose, fully expecting him to launch into a lecture about your ‘immature behavior’—but instead, there’s no sound of protest. 

No scolding. 

No stern reminder about the proper decorum of a public official and a hero.

You turn your head mid-step, only to see him already sprinting past you, heavy bags in hand, like the whole thing was effortless.

"Are you serious?" you yell, pushing your legs harder as you try to close the gap.

Iida, ever the show-off, doesn’t even break stride. "If you insist on playing, then you should at least know how to win!"

Oh, hell no.

You dig deep, pushing yourself forward, arms pumping, ignoring the way your heels weren’t exactly made for this. Just as Iida is about to reach his car, you lunge forward in one final burst of speed and—barely—make it to the door a fraction of a second before him.

"Ha!" you crow, slapping your hand against the side of the car as you catch your breath.

But victory isn’t enough. Oh no. 

You want to rub it in.

So, before Iida can react, you quickly punch in his door's lock code—the one you’d memorized long ago despite his attempts to keep it from you—and hop straight into the driver’s seat, slamming the door shut and immediately locking it.

Tenya skids to a stop, rolling his eyes as he watches you settle into the seat like you belong there. Because you do, he has several photos of you adorning the sun blockers in his car. A handmade charm bracelet you made him is draped around his rearview mirror. His expression is unimpressed as he exhales, shaking his head. He makes a show of patting his pockets, expecting to find his keys—

Only for his eyes to suddenly widen.

Slowly, he looks up at you, and you’re already grinning, dangling his keys between two fingers as you wave them teasingly.

"Looking for these?"

"Open the door, lady!" Tenya exclaims, exasperation dripping from every word. You lean back into the seat, tossing the keys into the air and catching them effortlessly. 

"Hmm... I dunno, Tenya. I could... but where’s the fun in that?"

His brows furrow, lips pressing into a tight line as he crosses his arms, his entire stance radiating judgment. 

"This is childish."

"You love it," you counter smoothly.

Tenya inhales deeply, clearly trying to summon patience.

"I swear to all things holy, if you do not unlock this car right now—"

"What? You gonna spank me?" You smirk. "Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but I’m in your car. With your keys."

His glasses slip slightly down his nose as his eye twitches. You know you’re pushing him—teetering right on that very fine line of his patience.

And you love every second of it.

Tenya doesn’t argue. Doesn’t sigh. Doesn’t launch into a lecture about how this—of all things you do—is wildly inappropriate behavior for a woman of your stature.

No. Instead, he just… sits.

Right on the hood of his car.

And damn, if he doesn’t look good doing it.

The deep blue remodeled 1978 Cadillac Coupe DeVille gleams beneath the dim garage lighting, a beast of a car that suits him in an old-school, timeless way—elegant, powerful, built to last. And yet, despite how imposing the vehicle is, Iida perches himself on the hood with ease, crossing one ankle over the other, arms folded neatly across his broad chest.

Like he’s prepared to wait you out.

You narrow your eyes, huffing as you lean forward and honk the horn.

Nothing.

So, you push open the door, stepping out with dramatic flair before marching right up to him.

You poke his side. Then again. And when that earns you nothing but a quiet glance downward, you tilt your head with a pout.

"Tenyaa," you whine, dragging out his name like a spoiled child.

His brows twitch, lips pressing together to keep from smiling. But you see it—oh, you see the struggle in his eyes.

"You just want me to die so you can eat me," he accuses, voice laced with dry amusement.

"Well, yes," you say without hesitation,

"But not for a good long while!"

That earns you a deep, exasperated sigh. A small shake of his head.

Then, finally, finally, he moves—sitting up and properly turning to face you. You smile up at him, beaming, before pressing his keys into his palm.

"I promise to behave until we get home. How does that sound?"

Tenya exhales again, softer this time, before nodding.

"I trust your word."

It’s a simple statement.

Honest. Unwavering.

And damn if it doesn’t do something to you.

Before you can react, he’s already standing, already moving with that fluid grace of his, towering over you naturally as he escorts you toward the passenger side. He opens the door effortlessly, one hand resting protectively above the frame as you slide in.

"Careful," he murmurs, guiding you in like you’re made of something precious.

Oh, you really do want to eat him.

But not yet.

All in good time.

You’re a patient woman.

You can wait.

Tenya makes sure you’re settled, smoothing the coat over your lap, brushing his fingers over the hem with absentminded attentiveness before shutting the door gently behind you. You watch as he rounds the back, carefully placing your things into the back seat, his meticulous nature evident in every precise movement.

Finally, he slides into the driver’s seat, adjusting the mirrors, starting the engine, rolling his shoulders like he’s unwinding himself from the games you play.

Poor thing.

He really doesn’t stand a chance.

The low hum of the Cadillac’s engine fills the space between you, a comforting sound against the quiet lull of the city outside. The streets blur past in streaks of neon and dim streetlights, and for a moment, it’s just you and Iida—Tenya, the man who was supposed to be your greatest thorn but somehow became the safest place you’d ever known.

You stretch your legs out before tucking them up beneath you, slipping off your heels and wiggling your toes in relief before shifting to face him.

"So," you begin, eyes flickering to the road ahead. "This new villain incident—let’s hear your thoughts."

Tenya glances at you from the corner of his eye, adjusting his grip on the wheel. "The details are inconsistent. The patterns don’t match. Every crime scene is staged differently, but there’s a thread tying them together—an underlying familiarity in execution." 

His large hand would look really pretty on your thigh right now. 

You hum, resting your head back against the seat. "Sounds like multiple people under one directive. A smaller group, maybe three or four. Not a gang—too clean. No wasted movement, no unnecessary violence. They’re professionals, trying to look like amateurs."

His fingers flex against the leather of the steering wheel. "That’s what I suspect as well." A pause. 

"It amazes me, you know. How respected you are in both worlds."

You smirk, stretching a hand over to rub slow, lazy circles along his beefy forearm. He works out and it really pays off. "Well, it helps that I never got caught," you tease, watching as the tips of his ears burn red. "And helping the hero commission out with your little robbery-slash-murder charge gave me some brownie points."

Tenya stiffens, lips parting in reflexive protest before shutting again with a quiet exhale through his nose. His grip on the wheel tightens for just a moment before he forces himself to relax.

"Hey, it’s okay," you murmur, smoothing your palm down the length of his bicep. "I wouldn’t have believed that lie for a second."

A beat.

"Oh, really now?" he finally says, voice lighter but still carrying that edge—that stubborn little thread of indignation.

"Yeah," you nod, tilting your head.

"And why is that, my pearl?"

"I told you before," you reply, voice softening. 

"You just aren’t that kind of guy. I can see it all in your eyes."

Tenya exhales through his nose, but there’s something softer in the way he holds himself now, in the slight curve of his lips. You grin, reaching up to comb your fingers through the dark strands of his hair, nails scratching lightly against his scalp. 

"Besides," you add, 

"Who would be a cold-blooded killer with those eyebrows?"

Tenya lets out a breath that might have been a laugh if he wasn’t fighting so hard to keep his composure. But you see it, the way his eyes blink and his nose does that cute twitch thing when he’s trying not to laugh. His grip on the wheel tightens again—reflexive, instinctive—before he forcibly loosens his fingers.

"You are an impossible woman," he mutters, but he leans into your touch despite himself.

Your nails—long, sharp, painted the deepest red—drag gently against his scalp again, and he shivers before tilting his head ever so slightly into your touch. It’s a distraction, one he’s warned you about before. 

But this time…

This time, he allows it.

He clears his throat, straightening in his seat before muttering, 

"I love how sharp your nails are."

You glance down at them, flexing your fingers slightly, watching how the streetlights catch the glossy crimson polish. They’re wholly inappropriate for your workplace, long and pointed, an elegant danger at your fingertips.

"You used to hate them," you remark, amused. "I did," he admits, voice quieter now. 

"But now I can’t help but love everything about you that I once found to be a pet peeve."

The car rolls to a stop at a red light, and without thinking, you shift, curling into his right side, cheek resting against the firm, warm muscle of his shoulder. Your arms wrap around his right arm, holding it hostage against your chest, and you peek up at him through your lashes.

Tenya exhales sharply through his nose, glancing down at you, his glasses fogging slightly from the heat of the car and the warmth of your body against his.

"Is that so?" you murmur, fingers lightly tracing circles over the fabric of his sleeve.

His jaw tightens for half a second before he nods.

"Yes," he says, voice steady, unwavering. 

"Completely."

—

Your living room is a masterclass in careful arrangement, a space that doesn’t just exist—it flows. 

Everything is connected, each piece guiding the eye seamlessly to the next, like an intricate web spun with intent.

Because it is.

At the very center of it all sits your couch—a deep, blood-merlot velvet piece with subtle curves that seem to invite rather than demand attention. It is the anchor, the heart of the room, and from it, everything extends outward in perfect balance. The coffee table, an oval of black glass, rests in front of it, its delicate golden legs branching out in twisted, spindly patterns. It holds scattered trinkets—an untouched glass of wine, a ring left abandoned beside it, a worn book edged in gold leaf with a spiderweb pressed into its cover.

From there, Tenya’s gaze is drawn to the shelves that frame the room, dark wood stretching upward in asymmetrical lines, bending around the space like the edges of a silken thread. The books stacked within them are placed with deliberate chaos, some upright, others lying flat, their spines a mix of deep, moody colors. Among them, small trinkets glint in the low light—brass figurines, a glass paperweight that holds a frozen crack of lightning inside, a single golden spider perched atop a candleholder.

The lighting is subtle, almost deceptive. A single, low-hanging chandelier with twisting, branching arms drapes from the ceiling, its glass teardrops refracting light like dewdrops caught in a web. The space is too fluid, too perfect in its asymmetry—it almost feels like an illusion. His eyes follow the lines, from the gold-threaded rug that sprawls beneath his feet to the marble side table that holds an unlit candle in a glass lantern. 

Every element is positioned with intent, guiding the gaze in a way that makes it impossible to focus on just one thing for too long.

And yet, despite all of that, he only sees you.

You, standing in the very heart of it all, as if you had orchestrated this space to pull him in, to tangle him in your threads without him even noticing. Bookshelves line one wall, filled with literature spanning politics, law, and fiction that has no place among them but stays anyway. There are vinyl records stacked neatly beside a vintage turntable, the soft hum of jazz still crackling through the speakers from earlier, a song left unfinished.

Floor-to-ceiling windows overlook the city, their heavy black curtains drawn back just enough to reveal the neon-drenched skyline, the glow casting shifting shadows across the polished wooden floors, bending as if they are alive. A few steps away, your dining area is visible, set with antique wine glasses that sparkle like starlight over the circular table. A bar cart stands nearby, stocked with top-shelf liquors, everything organized yet effortlessly casual, as if a party could start at any given moment.

And then, there’s him.

Standing near your couch, Tenya’s fingers flex subtly at his sides, the sharp inhale of his breath barely audible. He has always been well-mannered, always collected. 

But tonight? 

You are testing him.

His hands had just been looking for your zipper, his touch careful and precise, the slight drag of metal against fabric going to fill the silence between you. It was routine, something he had done before, yet when he stepped forward, intending to settle his palm at the small of your back—he found nothing.

Nothing but warm, bare skin.

His throat tightens.

You glance at him over your shoulder, adjusting the fur shawl draped around your arms, the soft white contrasting the deep, ink-black of your dress. Deceptive in every way—a turtleneck, long sleeves, stopping mid-thigh, paired with opaque tights that promise just a hint of what’s beneath. 

But the back? 

Completely open. 

A sinful scoop that leaves the whole curve of your spine exposed, down to the very arch where his hands ache to settle.

Tenya adjusts his glasses, a habit, a tell. He knows you notice.

Your lips match your heels, deep red and glossy, perfectly painted, perfectly smug. Your nails are still sharp, tapping idly against the clasp of your purse as you watch him, knowing.

He should say something—anything—but he can’t seem to find the words when your eyes, lined with a perfectly sharp cat-eye, flicker up at him through the dimness. A soft shimmer dusts your cheekbones, catching the dim light just enough to make you glow.

He should be focusing on the night ahead, on the reservation, on the politics of your relationship that dictate restraint.

But all he can think about is how easy it would be to pull you back into him, to trace the length of that backless dress with his fingertips, to dip his head down and press his lips to the delicate expanse of your skin. To press his face into that small curve and become well acquainted with the natural scent there.

You are going to be the death of him.

And he cannot wait.

You smooth your hands down your dress, a subtle invitation, and catch the way his gaze follows the motion— the way his jaw tenses just slightly, the way his fingers twitch like he’s restraining himself.

"Do you like it?" you ask, voice honey-sweet as you shift your weight onto one foot, the motion making your backless dress dip just enough to tease.

Tenya nods, but it isn’t enough for you.

With a playful smirk, you reach out, curling two fingers around the knot of his tie and tugging him down to your level. He barely stumbles, ever the perfect balance of poise and control, but the surprise in his eyes is unmistakable. You tip your head just slightly, brushing your lips featherlight against the corner of his mouth before murmuring, 

"Don’t be shy… I only bite a little."

His breath catches—just for a second.

Then, before he can find his words, you cup his face between your palms, your thumbs dragging along his cheeks, nails just sharp enough to poke into the hidden dimples you know are there. 

"You’re just too cute," you muse, and the warmth in your voice is almost too much for him. Tenya clears his throat, desperately grasping at control, but you can see it in his eyes—how dizzy you make him, how he’s barely holding back. 

"Dinner," he states firmly, like an anchor, like something to ground himself. And you hum, tilting your head, letting your fingertips drift from his cheeks to trace along his jawline. 

"Mmm, yes… I am very, very hungry," you admit, deliberately letting the words curl with meaning, just enough to make his breath hitch before you pull away. "I’m ready when you are."

You can tell he’s struggling to gather himself—his hands curling, relaxing, curling again at his sides—before he inhales deeply and squares his shoulders, standing tall. A true gentleman, even in the face of his undoing. 

"You are stunning," he says, voice rich and smooth, every ounce of sincerity laced into his words.

"And you are handsome," you counter, stepping in close and pressing your ear against his chest, right over his racing heartbeat. Your lips curve as you listen, pressing your palm flat against him. 

"I always did love the pretty little pattern your heart makes."

Tenya exhales sharply, and for a second—just a second—he imagines how easy it would be to hold you here forever. To fall back onto your couch with you in his arms, your face tucked beneath his chin, his hands tracing your form, not out of greed, but pure admiration.

You are unlike anyone he has ever known. 

No one makes him feel the way you do. No one ever will.

So he’s going to hold on.

Very, very tight.

Even if you act like a bad girl. And maybe you are.

But he can handle it.

Before you can pull away completely, Tenya leans down, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. You blink, just slightly caught off guard, before he gently takes your hand and regains control of the moment, escorting you toward the door with quiet determination. He guides you down the steps, leading you toward his car.

Valentine’s Day is just beginning.

—

The click of glass against marble is the only sound in the kitchen as Tenya places two wine glasses on the counter, his movements slower than usual, almost calculated.

He’s loosened his tie, unbuttoned the first two buttons of his dress shirt, rolled his sleeves to his elbows, and abandoned his shoes and coat at the door— a sight that makes your lips curl in quiet satisfaction.

Poor baby.

All night at dinner, you played your game masterfully.

You spoke to him in that slow, mature voice, low and warm like silk sliding over bare skin. You brushed your foot against his ankle, just enough to make him stiffen—especially whenever the waiter came by, forcing him to act natural while you hid a smirk behind your wine glass.

Then there was the French.

“Mon cœur,” you had purred at one point, your voice dropping into something thick and saccharine. You leaned in close, your fingers teasing at the stem of your glass, whispering words far filthier than the fine dining atmosphere deserved.

And then—as if you hadn’t just threatened his entire career—you smiled sweetly, sipped your wine, and carried on like nothing happened.

Tenya had barely survived the night.

And now, here you are, perched at the kitchen counter with an air of false innocence, watching him fumble for a bottle of wine like you didn’t just spend the last two hours tearing his restraint to shreds. His tie is crooked, his shoulders are tense, and his breath has been uneven since the car ride home.

And you? 

Oh, you’re enjoying every second of it.

With deliberate slowness, you slip off your fur shawl, draping it over the chair before sliding off the counter. Your heels click softly against the floor as you move toward him, steps light and smooth, a predator approaching its prey.

By the time you reach him, he’s bracing himself against the counter, his head tipped down, fingers curled like he’s trying to keep himself from shaking. You gently press yourself against his back, arms slipping around his waist, careful—so careful—not to smudge your lipstick on his pristine wait coat.

He goes rigid.

And then, slowly, he turns to face you, his expression a battlefield of emotions. You blink up at him, tilting your head ever so slightly.

"Are you okay, baby?"

‘Baby?’

Oh, you’re testing him now.

No— he realizes,

You’ve been testing him since the moment he met you.

Tenya lets out a shaky, unsteady breath, his chest rising and falling under your touch. He’s trying—trying so hard—to regulate himself, to keep control, but the second you start rubbing soft, soothing circles into his chest, his composure nearly shatters.

Any other time, he would have melted into you.

But now?

Now?

His hand moves before he can think. Gently, but firmly, he takes your smaller, dangerous hands in his own. He lifts them, brushing a delicate, reverent kiss across your knuckles, but his breathing only grows heavier.

"I'm sorry, cara mia," he murmurs, his voice strained, frayed at the edges. "I feel… strange."

Your eyes sparkle with mischief, but your smile is nothing but honey. "Oh, that might be the special chocolate I gave you earlier."

…

"WHAT!?!"

Tenya jerks upright, his entire body snapping to attention, eyes wide and alert like you just told him the building is on fire. You blink at him innocently, then lift your hands in mock defense. 

"You were sooo tense," you drawl, tilting your head. "I just wanted you to loosen your tie a bit."

Oh. 

Oh, it all makes sense now.

The warmth flooding his veins, the sluggish yet hyper-aware feeling humming beneath his skin, the way he hasn’t quite felt like himself since dessert—it wasn’t just you. Tenya swallows hard, then drags a hand through his hair, his fingers trembling just slightly.

Never take food offered by a spider woman.

His mind is whirring, piecing things together at full speed, but his eyes never leave you.

He stares at your sexy little, devious figure standing before him, taking in the curve of your lips, the sharpness of your nails, the glint of something dangerous yet intoxicating in your gaze.

And suddenly, he realizes—

He doesn’t want to run.

He wants to chase.

Your instincts fire off just a second too late.

The moment you take a small, cautious step backward, tilting your head just slightly, something in Tenya’s expression changes. You don’t know what it is exactly, but you feel it.

"Tenya…?"

Your voice is soft, questioning, but it doesn’t stop him.

Because he moves.

Fast.

You barely get a scream out before you’re bolting, your body reacting before your mind can catch up.

He lunges, just missing you by a breath, and you take off so quickly that you nearly slip on the tile. Your heart is hammering, your laughter spilling into the air as you sprint into the dining room, dashing around the table like a panicked little rabbit.

But he’s right behind you.

You risk a glance back and regret it immediately.

Tenya isn’t surprised.

No, he’s grinning.

It’s not his usual measured, polite smile. This is something else. Something wilder. 

Hungrier.

And you realize with a thrill of fear and excitement—

He likes this.

So you do the only thing you can—you run faster.

You dart out of the dining room, legs burning, nearly tripping as you tear through the hallway and up the stairs. Your chest is heaving, your heartbeat a frantic rhythm against your ribs, but he’s right there.

Too close.

You shove through your bedroom door, throw yourself inside, but—

He’s already there.

Your breath catches in your throat as you spin, wide-eyed, watching as Tenya steps forward.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

Like he knows he’s already won.

And you?

You’re stepping back, step after step, breath after breath, until—

Your calves hit the edge of your mattress, and you fall. The second your back meets the sheets, you realize—

You lost a heel back there.

And judging by the way Tenya is looking at you, taking in your breathless state, the way your hair has fallen out of your bun over your shoulders, your legs still half-twisted from trying to escape—

He doesn’t care one bit.

The soft click of the bedroom door shutting is the only warning you get before Tenya turns to you, watching, waiting.

His movements are calculated, gentle, but the tension in his shoulders betrays him—he’s holding back.

Still, he kneels, reaching for your ankle, careful, as he helps you slip out of your remaining heel. His fingers graze the curve of your foot, tracing lightly before setting it aside. He exhales through his nose, shifting to take your hand, his own swallowing yours in warmth.

Then, he lifts it.

A kiss.

Soft, reverent.

Then another, a slow trail along your wrist, your forearm, his lips brushing along the delicate fabric covering your inner elbow before pressing against the crook of it. He does the same to your other arm, his mouth mapping out devotion along the path of your veins, his breath hot against your skin.

"Forgive me," he murmurs, low, rough, almost strained, before tilting your chin upward, his fingertips pressing just enough to angle your face where he wants it. You feel the drag of fabric as he tugs at your collar, exposing the line of your throat.

And then—

Another kiss.

Soft at first, featherlight.

Then another, deeper, lingering.

Then another, his lips parting just enough for his tongue to flick over your pulse point, teasing. His teeth press against your skin, not quite biting, just enough for you to feel the gentle scrape. You sigh, a sound so pleased, so sweet that he shudders against you.

His large, warm hands splay over your stomach, the fabric of your dress smoothing beneath his palms as he bends you backward, laying you out like something delicate and divine. Your lashes flutter as you look up at him, your room casting a soft, ambient glow over the space. The room is yours, but the moment? 

The moment belongs to him.

Tenya kneels back, eyes raking over you with such intensity that you reach for him, fingers curling into his tie. You pull him closer, undoing the knot with slow, deliberate movements, but just as you reach for his glasses—

He stops you.

He shakes his head, readjusting them with a slight push along the bridge of his nose, breath unsteady.

"I want to see you," he admits, voice hushed.

You smile, thumb brushing against his jaw as you promise,

"I’ll be gentle with you."

His response? A sharp pinch to your hip. You yelp, laughing, breathless, utterly in love.

Your hands fist into the fabric of his dress shirt, fingers slipping beneath to press against the taut muscle of his waist. You pull him down, drawing him into your space, where he belongs. And he lets you.

For a moment, he hesitates.

But then his full weight shifts, pressing into you, enveloping you in warmth, security, want. A sigh escapes you, lashes dusting against your cheeks as your eyes flutter shut.

Tenya watches you, panting, unraveling, waiting.

You undo more of his buttons, fingers brushing over the heat of his skin.

But he pulls you closer, closer.

"May I touch you?"

His voice is hoarse, pleading, but his hands stay rooted where they are, waiting for your word.

"You have all my permission."

The groan he lets out is pure relief, a sound deep and rich, vibrating through his chest. His fingers tremble only slightly as they cup your cheek, his thumb dragging slow, soft, worshipful over the apple of it.

Then, finally, he kisses you.

Deeply.

Thoroughly.

Like a man who finally has what he's been chasing.

Tenya drinks you in, savoring the way your lips mold against his, the way you sigh into his mouth like you were meant to be here, with him, beneath him. His body is so warm, radiating heat through the crisp fabric of his dress shirt, the material still tucked neatly despite his tie being discarded somewhere behind you. 

His hands are careful, reverent as they skim your jawline, one remaining at your cheek while the other finds the curve of your waist, splaying over the thin, form-fitting fabric of your dress. He’s breathing so hard, chest rising and falling with a rhythm you’ve never quite heard from him before, uneven, desperate. 

He holds himself just above you, though his body is already pressing you into the plush bedding beneath you. He’s trying so hard to be respectful, to stay in control, but you feel the way his fingers flex, gripping the soft fabric of your dress just a little tighter like he's trying to ground himself.

You hum against his lips, one hand curling into his collar to bring him impossibly closer, the other brushing through his hair. His glasses are still in place, slightly crooked now from the way you’ve been touching him, and you reach up, fingertips lightly grazing the arm of the frame. He shudders, a quiet noise slipping from his throat, but he doesn’t stop you this time. Instead, he leans into your touch, eyes lidded, lips parted as he breathes you in.

He kisses you again, deeper this time, and you feel the full weight of him, his warmth pressing into every inch of you, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet of the room. You let your hands wander, trailing down the lines of his shoulders, over the broad planes of his back, fingertips slipping beneath the fabric again to feel the taut muscle beneath. His skin is hot to the touch, burning under your palms, and when you shift beneath him, he groans, barely holding himself together.

“You’re trembling baby,” you murmur, lips brushing against his as you speak, voice low and sweet, a whisper just for him. Tenya swallows, his grip at your waist tightening for a fleeting moment before relaxing. 

“I…” He exhales sharply, eyes flickering over your face like he’s trying to memorize you in this exact moment. “I feel…” His words trail off, his brows knitting together as if he can’t quite find the right thing to say, but you know. You know because you feel it too.

Your fingers trace over the nape of his neck, nails just barely scraping over the short hairs there, and you feel the full-body shiver it sends through him. He exhales a ragged breath, his forehead dropping to rest against yours for just a moment before he shifts, pressing soft, lingering kisses to the corner of your mouth, your jaw, the line of your throat. His lips are unbearably gentle, moving slow, deliberate, as though he’s trying to commit every inch of you to memory.

“Tenya,” you breathe, tilting your head just enough to give him more room, encouraging, inviting.

His hand slips lower, the pads of his fingers tracing the curve of your waist, the dip of your hip, trailing so slowly it makes you dizzy. He’s not rushing, not pushing, just taking his time, like he wants to worship you with every careful touch.

“I can’t help myself,” he admits, voice barely more than a whisper against your skin.

“You… you undo me.”

His confession sends warmth flooding through you, a soft ache blooming in your chest at how utterly wrecked he sounds, like he’s struggling to hold himself together, to remain the ever-composed, respectful man you know him to be. And yet, here he is, eyes dark and hungry, breath uneven, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your thigh as he lets his mouth explore every part of you he can reach.

Your hands slide back up, cupping his cheeks, tilting his face toward yours once more. He meets your gaze, his expression so full of something raw and unspoken that it steals the breath from your lungs. You brush your thumb over his bottom lip, watching the way his eyes flutter shut at the touch, the way his lips part slightly as if craving more.

“You don’t have to hold back,” you whisper, pressing the words against his mouth in the barest ghost of a kiss. 

“Not with me.”

Tenya lets out a shuddering breath, his resolve crumbling as he finally—finally—lets himself sink into you completely.

The heat between you is electric, palpable in the air as your hands glide over the girth Tenya’s body, his breath hitching with every touch. His waist coat is halfway undone now, hanging off his broad shoulders, and you take full advantage, slipping your nails over the fabric, your fingers scratching over the firm muscle that tenses under your touch. He’s so warm, so solid, and you relish the contrast between his gentlemanly restraint and the raw need you can feel simmering just beneath the surface.

Tenya watches you with hooded eyes, his lips slightly parted, his breathing uneven. 

Your red lipstick is smudged now, streaked across your own mouth and staining his skin where you've kissed him. It's like modern art—messy, intimate, a declaration that you were here, touching him, marking him in a way that makes his head spin. 

In a way that belongs to him only. 

He’s always been fascinated by how you manage to keep your lipstick perfect, how even after a night of teasing and whispering sinful things in his ear, it remains flawless. But now, seeing it smeared, evidence of how much you’ve already taken from him, he wonders how much more of himself he’s willing to give.

Everything.

Tenya trembles as your fingers find his hair, tugging gently, messing it up the way you know he secretly loves but would never admit. He sighs into your touch, his body relaxing against you even as his grip on your waist tightens, his thumbs pressing into that spot on your hips that makes you gasp and arch into him, seeking more. His lips are hot against your throat, alternating between soft, reverent kisses and firm, lingering nips that send sparks down your spine.

His voice is rough when he finally speaks, barely above a whisper. 

"How could you love someone like me?"

You tilt your head, fingers still threading through his hair, nails dragging lightly against his scalp. 

"A man?"

He exhales sharply, shaking his head. 

"No. A hero."

That word. That title. The one that sets him apart from you, from your past, from everything you've ever known. He says it like it’s a curse, like he’s unworthy of the love you so freely give.

You hum, letting the word roll off your tongue like silk, letting it sink into his skin the way your touch does. 

"My Hero."

Tenya gasps, his whole body shuddering at the way you say it, the way you wield your voice like a weapon designed to break him. His fingers dig into your hips, a groan slipping from his lips as you work his dress shirt off completely, letting it drop somewhere beside the bed. You finally get your hands on him, all of him, the broad chest and sculpted muscles that he keeps hidden beneath his pristine clothes, the ones he hones every day as a Pro Hero. 

He’s a perfect balance of strength and discipline, and yet, here, with you, he’s unraveling at the seams.

"You're so cute," you murmur, sighing contentedly as your fingers trace the dips and curves of his torso. 

You giggle as his hands disappear beneath your dress, his touch firm yet possessive as he grips your hips like he owns them, like he’s memorizing the way you feel beneath his hands. His thumbs find that spot again, the one that sends white-hot pleasure pulsing through you, and you let your head fall back with a quiet moan, granting him full access to your neck.

He takes it, pressing his lips to your pulse point, then lower, dragging his teeth lightly over the delicate skin before soothing the spot with his tongue. 

"Well," you pant, breathless from his touch, from the way he’s holding you so tightly like he never wants to let go. You grab his jaw, making him meet your gaze, your nails grazing the sharp angles of his face. 

"How could you fall in love with a villain?"

Tenya groans, a sound so deep and desperate that it makes your stomach tighten with heat. His fingers find yours, entwining them together, his grip firm as he brings your left hand to the headboard, pressing a lingering kiss to your wrist before doing the same to your right. His glasses slip down his nose, and when he looks at you again, you’re met with those impossibly bright blue eyes, wide and trained solely on you, full of adoration and something deeper, something primal.

"You're not a villain anymore," he murmurs, voice thick with emotion.

You smirk, tilting your chin up.

"Mm, old habits die hard, my love."

His expression shifts, darkening with something intense, something authoritative, and you shiver at the way he leans in so close, his breath fanning against your lips. His presence alone commands your attention, and heat pools in your belly as you watch him study you like a puzzle he’s determined to solve.

"Then what am I?" you ask, your voice nothing more than a whisper as you slowly wrap one fine leg around his waist, pulling him closer.

Tenya’s gaze flickers down, taking in the way your leg hooks around him, the way your body curves into his as if you were molded for him. He exhales through his nose, then looks back up, his lips ghosting over yours, teasing.

"Once in a lifetime," he murmurs, his voice low and full of meaning.

Him and his mushy heart. 

You whine, rolling your eyes playfully before clicking your tongue at him. Before he can react, you use your leg to yank him forward, making him fall onto you with a startled grunt. He props himself up on his forearms, his glasses slipping even further down his nose, and he gives you that scolding look—the one that drives you absolutely insane, the one that makes you want to irk him even more.

You smile wickedly, reaching up to push his glasses back into place.

"I didn’t put anything in the chocolate," you confess, voice full of amusement.

"But it’s always nice to play with you.~" You press your lips to his cheek, your lipstick leaving a harsh mark against his flushed skin. 

"And I really do want you around for a long time."

Tenya stiffens, his whole body going rigid as the words sink in. His eyes widen, his lips parting slightly as he just stares at you, his face red, his expression utterly wrecked.

And then he kisses you, hard, like he’s trying to convey everything he can’t put into words. You melt into him, your hands roaming, helping him shed the rest of his clothes just as he helps you out of yours.

Soon, you’re bare beneath him, your breasts pressing into the mattress as he hovers above you. His lips trace along the expanse of your spine, his hands mapping every curve, every dip of your body as though committing you to memory. You steal his glasses, perching them on your own nose as you grin back at him, and he groans, utterly undone by the sight of you.

"You make me feel depraved," he murmurs, his voice hushed and strained as his fingers trail down your arms. 

"Like the lowest possible form of human."

You roll onto your back, smiling slyly as you reach for him, your nails scratching down the length of his arms, making him shudder. 

"You are still human, Tenya."

"Mon amour," he practically cries out before flipping you over again, pulling you into another desperate, searing kiss.

Neither of you notice the small ring box lying forgotten near the edge of the bed, the delicate script of your name etched onto its surface as it waits, watching, biding its time.

I DON'T OWN THE IMAGES!!!!

For Valentines day, I hosted a poll about the fic's I have cooking in the oven from my mha 'Fuck it, I got you,' series and this was the 2nd winner. As promised, some info about the relationship between you and Iida:

As a former villain turned councilwoman, your past is something the public never gets to see. Despite working tirelessly to improve the city, you're constantly at odds with pro-hero Ingenium, who sees you as a nuisance at best and a dangerous liability at worst. The two of you have a habit of arguing in the media, and your sharp tongue has knocked Iida down to the rank of Japan’s 8th top hero. But when a string of high-profile robberies sweeps through the city—each crime marked by a spider-like calling card—both of you find yourselves tangled in something bigger than political squabbles.

During an award ceremony, Iida notices something strange—your ring, an elegant but subtle piece of jewelry, looks suspiciously familiar. Slipping it off your finger in a moment of clever misdirection, he later has it analyzed by Momo, and Jirou, only to confirm his suspicions: It’s a stolen artifact, linking you directly to the Black Widow thief. Before he can act, the entire hero awards ceremony erupts into chaos. The police and hero commission storm the event, proclaiming Iida as the true culprit in front of the press. His career is on the line, his private life exposed, and suddenly, he has no one to trust.

And with nowhere else to turn, he calls you.

This fic takes place after all that, where You and Tenya have been secretly dating for a while, and tonight, you were testing out a scenario before heading out for an actual date. You live to get under Tenya's skin, matching him in wit and intellect, always pushing his buttons in a way that leaves him flustered yet drawn to you. Despite all his efforts, you always seem to be one step ahead, and deep down, he loves it.

For a man who thrives on structure and order, you are chaos incarnate.

And he wouldn’t have you any other way.

~~

My master list is a work in progress but there's plenty more fic's and other characters if you request them. Ao3 is sexy too. I haven't posted the story yet because I need to Finish my Katsuki one first at least, but all the support and comments I receive help give me the motivation to finish!

You can also tip me a coffee if you want.

Remember: Comments and likes, really help. Don't be afraid to leave me a sexy little reblog too.

Stay tuned for the rest!! If you wanna be tagged, lemme know.

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!! <33

-Angie (✿^‿^)

I do not own My Hero Academia or its characters. However, the original plot, storylines, and any original characters in this work are my own creation. Please do not copy, repost, or claim my work as your own. Respect the effort and creativity that went into this story—thank you!

[jarofstyles]

Baby, It's Cold Outside

So basically this was meant to be a shorty, but it turned into almost 9k of cuteness and smut. So happy holidays, my loves! Here is some friends to lovers cuteness and filth <3

Check out our Patreon for over 100 exclusive writings!

Warnings: Smut

WC- around 9k

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

Y/N hadn’t meant to fall asleep on Harry’s couch. Honest.

But anyone who had the pleasure of sitting on the cloud like crimson couch could tell you, it was hard to get out of it once you were in. Harry had to answer some business emails, of course, because as much as she liked her friend, she was well aware he was a workaholic. Lawyer by day, and by night. He had invited a few people over for a movie night but Y/N was the only one who was free- but it was fine. It meant more popcorn and pizza for them anyways- and he had been a doll and ordered her the BBQ Chicken pizza on a flat crust. She got it all to herself as they watched the original claymation of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, which was a classic if you asked her. Her stomach full, she still picked at some of the M&M’s and tried to ignore the little jump her heart gave when their hands brushed. Their thighs had already been knocking together and Y/N had been trying to talk some sense into herself considering she knew there was no meaning to it. He sat close to her so they could both reach the popcorn and share the candies! He kept the bowl balanced on his thigh so she could reach over and get it. Duh. 

But after their second movie, Elf, his phone began to ping. Why, Y/N didn’t know. It was literally 9 in the evening, there was no reason to do so, but when Harry asked if she was okay with him stepping away for a few moments to answer some things in his office, she didn’t make a fuss. No, she continued watching albeit with a slightly heavier heart when 30 minutes had passed and he hadn’t reappeared- but that was neither here nor there. 

She can’t remember doing it, burying her face in the pillow that he had been using and curling up into a little ball on his couch, snoozing away. The warmth of his home was welcoming, and she was vaguely aware that the wind had picked up outside- but she fell asleep shortly after. Firmly planted in dreamland where she was picking blueberries for a pie in the summer. Why that exact dream, she wasn’t sure. What she did know is that she stirred to the feeling of a warm hand stroking her head, soft whispers of her name coaxing her from the impromptu nap. 

“Y/N?” He murmured, sitting next to her with a furrowed brow. Her eyes peeled open and blinked sleepily at him, confusion written in them as she looked over his face and the fact that the TV had the ‘are you still watching?’ notification on the screen. “Hey, sleepy girl.” He smiled slightly before it dropped. Her heart fluttered in her chest from the close proximity and fondness in his tone. “M’so fucking sorry. Time got away from me and before I knew it I was up there for an hour and a half- and m’a shit friend.” He frowned, unaware of the tantrum Y/N’s stomach was throwing from his hand resting on the side of her head. His thumb was brushing right before her ear, the slight sound tickling a part of her brain she hadn’t even known existed. He made her so nervous. 

“Oh.” She said quietly, unsure how to reply. It kind of sucked that he had spent their movie night tucked in his office. Y/N didn’t get to spend a lot of time with Harry lately, his workload picking up, and she had been going on about how good it was to see him for once. The lighthearted teasing held a semblance of truth and Harry could tell, which made him feel pretty shit right now when he saw the slight dejection on his face. If only she knew.  

“I know. M’sorry.” He whispered. “But uh….” his eyes strayed to the window. “We’ve got a bigger problem now.”

This had Y/N sitting up, silently mourning the loss of his hand that had flexed slightly as it fell back to the couch. “What do you mean?” Her nerves shot up, turning to look at the window as well. It was significantly cooler in the house now, her arms erupting in chills as her blanket fell from her shoulders as she got up to look. She’d seen a peek of white, but she hadn’t been prepared to see the truth outside. The blur of snow, piling up high and showing no sign of stopping. She rubbed her sleepy eyes, cursing under her breath. She’d gotten an uber here, but there was no way in hell any would be out right now. “Fuck.” Her tone was a soft groan, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes. “There’s no way I can get a ride home now.”

“I know.” Harry said back. “But it’s a good thing I’ve got lots of blankets, yeah?” He didn’t want to admit to her that there was something in him that was almost excited that she would be trapped here with him. That the reason everyone else had canceled was the weather, apparently, that neither of them looked into until Harry had checked his phone just moments before waking her up. It was going to snow all night, and all day. Y/N was stuck here, and he didn’t know for how long. 

“Are you sure?” Nibbling her bottom lip, Y/N worried. She didn’t want to be a pain but there was no way she was walking home in this. No way Harry would ever let her either- and it wasn’t like she could ask him to drive her, it wouldn’t be safe. There was no other option other than staying. 

“Course I am. Are you kidding?” He scoffed. “We can just continue watching. I really am sorry- we’ve got this case, the wife is trying to take half the assets.” He moved towards the couch and began to move things back to neaten it up. “We were trying to negotiate but then the PI that the husband hired found the proof of her infidelity, so it changed the case structure completely. I got in my own head, and I apologize.” It was obvious he actually felt really bad about it. Harry was passionate about his job, working with personal injury, divorce, and estate law. It made sense to her considering he was a busybody, and apparently could argue with anyone about anything- she’d seen it first hand with a tipsy Harry and Niall at karaoke night, arguing over the perfect color for those little drink umbrellas. 

“It’s okay, Harry.” She smiled softly. “I wish I could find something to be as passionate about and make my job. M’just stuck at the cafe for now.” She joked. The cafe was fine, she liked her coworkers, but there was no passion there. She did her job, collected her money and went home. 

“You will, love. It’s never too late.” He was always encouraging of her going after her dreams, especially over one drunken conversation about wishing she could do art full time- but Y/N was a realistic person and she had real rent to pay. Being a no-one in the art field would lead to ‘exposure’ work and exposure didn’t pay the bills. She needed to work on it but she was always so tired after work- eventually she would get there, but it was nice to know that someone believed in her. One of her paintings hung over his fireplace, actually, making her smile every time she came over. She painted his cat for his birthday, which had actually made him tear up. That had gotten her a very long hug and a solid appreciation for how muscular he was. 

Y/N decided to help him out, readjusting the blankets and pillows as he brought the now cold pizza and treats into the kitchen. It was then that it hit her- she was going to spend the night at his house, and possibly the whole day tomorrow. Snowed in at Harry’s House. He was pretty choosy about the people that came over, citing that ‘his home is his sanctuary and he needs to protect it’, which she sort of liked. When she was in college, she had opened her home up for a bit for the parties and decided that she wasn’t a fan of a lot of people in her space either, so knowing he felt similar made her feel special. 

“Okay.” He brought out the hard cider. “I’ve got the holiday version and the regular. Both are good, the holiday version is a bit more cinnamon-y.” He held up the bottles, teetering them in his hands. “Which would you like?” 

“I’ll go with regular, please. Too much cinnamon makes me sneeze.” She admitted. “Weird, but even when I get it on my coffee I get a bit sniffly.” It was weird, considering it wasn’t exactly an allergy- but maybe a sensitivity. 

“Oh, shit.” He raised his brows. “Okay, We’ll do regular then.” He handed it over to her after snapping the cap off with his bottle opener. “Don’t need a sneeze storm along with the snow storm.” The poor attempt of a joke made her snort, shaking her head. Harry’s jokes were infamously horrible, genuinely cringe worthy, but he had to have some sort of flaw. No one was that good looking and went away without something. Taking the frosty glass bottle in hand, she blamed it for the shivers- and not the fact his fingers brushed her own. 

“Let’s get started again, yeah? Let me turn my phone off for real this time.”

—-----

The movie watching had turned to more of a movie and chat. Harry sat closer to her than before, claiming it was ‘cold as fuck’ before starting a fire. The room was dim except for the flat screen mounted above said fireplace, his twinkling christmas tree and the comforting warm glow of the flames crackling

“I really am sorry, you know.” He murmured, breaking her out of thought as he let his fingers play with the ends of her hair. Harry had been a bit more touchy tonight, she noticed. She was trying not to let it be known how much it actually affected her. She’d managed to keep her little crush under wraps for months now, and she didn’t want to slip up. It was hard not to, especially after they’d kissed on halloween. It was a dare, of course, everyone tipsy as shit, but it had done something to her. Their costumes accidentally ended up matching, so it was pushed and she didn’t mind. The girl had been so sure she was immune to Harry’s hypnotic charm, but the kiss had been… really fucking good. It wasn’t something that was rated R, but she got a bit of tongue from him, his hand cupping his jaw carefully enough to not mess up her makeup, and the length… If she had been a bit more drunk, she would have pulled him back for more. Since then she’d been a bit fucked. It was both fortunate and not so that Harry got a lot busier at work after that. 

“What for?” She asked, giving him a questioning look. Harry had already apologized for taking so long and it wasn’t something she was still upset about. Not with her body buzzing and heating up with him so close to her. 

“I’ve been kinda selfish. Forgot to ask more about you.” He frowned. “We’ve been a gossipy bunch tonight but.. You’ve been holding out a bit.” He teasingly tugged her hair. It was hard to keep her shiver from that hidden, as she really liked the feeling. “Remember you told us you’d been seeing someone. How’s that going?”

Y/N was confused for a moment. What was he talking about? Y/N hadn’t gone on a date in months. She wracked her brain, trying to place what he was talking about- when it hit her. Not too long after they’d kissed, Bradley had opened his mouth and asked Y/N about the date she had been on with his friend. Someone she had been set up with, and definitely didn’t like. Her nose crinkled as she shook her head. 

“God, you remember that? It was awful.” She said in distaste. “We went to like.. Two dates. The first one and then the second one only happened because Brad kind of pressured me into it.” Her eyes rolled, still annoyed at her lack of a backbone when it came to hurting people’s feelings. She’d been really trying to work on that. The whole putting yourself on the line just to ensure other people are happy and god forbid you hurt someone’s feelings thing.

“Pressured you?” Harry’s fingers paused in her hair. “How do you mean?” She could see it in his face, his irritation rising. One of the things she liked the most about Harry was how respectful he was towards women. It was a hard thing for some men to conceptualize, apparently, but Harry naturally knew how to be a decent human being. It said more about other men than him. 

“Well.. After halloween I told Brad I wasn’t feeling it with his friend when he asked me how it went, but he told me how much his friend liked me and I shouldn’t give up on it so quickly. Give him another shot. And then I was a stupid baby and decided to put the random man’s feelings above my own, and it was a second sucky date. I mean, there wasn’t anything inherently wrong with the guy. I was just bored. He just wasn’t my person, y’know? I felt bad wasting his time and giving false hope.” Her lips twisted in a grimace. It wasn’t a thing she was proud of. “But yeah, I know you’ve been busy lately. Though I would have thought Brad would have told you when you guys worked out? You two love to gossip like old hens.” She knew they met up every week.

“Yeah. I would have thought so too.” He said, something underlying in his tone that she didn’t quite get. “He uh.. He told me that you guys still saw each other occasionally, though?” He looked thoroughly confused which in turn, made her even more so.

“I mean, yeah. Kind of? He comes into the cafe and we’re friendly enough. I ended up telling him after the second date that I wasn’t seeing it go anywhere but I’d like to be friends. I’d say we’re more acquaintances than anything else, but he’s got a girl he’s seeing. I served them the other day.” Y/N wasn’t sure why Harry looked upset, almost annoyed at the information, but she was going to find out. “I’m sorry, are you okay? You just look annoyed, is all.” She tried her best to be soft about it, but she had no idea why on earth he would be annoyed about what she just said.

“No- no, s’nothing you did.” He assured her, rubbing over her back once he realized she was taking his expressions personally. “It’s just- he kept saying you guys hit it off and made it seem like… like you were taken by him. I dunno why he’d do that when…” He paused, shaking his head. It confused her even more, unsure as to why Brad would do that either. What did he have to gain by lying- or stretching the truth?

“When, what?” She asked. What would be in it for him?

“I don’t want t’make it weird, but he knew I was plannin’ on asking you out after Halloween but… he told me you and his friend had hit it off.” He stiffened slightly. “I hope that doesn’t make you uncomfortable, it’s water under the bridge, but I’m just a little upset that he lied.” 

Y/N’s stomach dropped. 

“He did what?” 

“Yeah, I’m not sure… what the motive for that was.” He scratched the base of his neck uncomfortably. It was obvious he hadn’t necessarily wanted to divulge that information to her but she was really fucking glad he did. 

She was also angry. Brad knew damn well Y/N and his friend didn’t hit it off and he had told him, albeit politely, straight to his face. It pissed her off immensely if he was being honest. It only made her hypothesis more glaringly correct the more she thought about it, but it wasn’t her place to tell Harry that Brad most definitely had a nasty, big crush on him as well. It was hard not to have one on him, having fallen victim to the Styles Charm herself. 

“I don’t either but… No. M’single. I have been for months.” She admitted, not sure if the feeling in her stomach was caused by the alcohol, the anticipation, or the revelation. “I would have said yes, by the way. If you’d asked.” Finding the nerve to meet his eye, she was taken aback at the pure green mixed with a splash of oceanic blue. She’d been up close before but this felt other worldly. Knowing that he was planning on asking her out in any capacity had the feeling in her stomach intensify, looking into eyes that were so pretty it shouldn’t be allowed. 

“Yeah?” He asked quietly, the air stilling slightly in the room. He was looking back just as intensely, just as intently, making her body react in ways she hadn't felt in a long time. Giddy, like a kid on christmas from the revelation. “Well… I feel a little silly now. Should have just asked you myself. But… he said you were happy and I didn’t want to intrude on that but it was hard t’be around and not want to tell you so, I kinda buried myself in work for a bit. I didn’t want to be a miserable bastard, like some child who had his toy taken away, but I felt sad that I’d missed my chance.” 

The frown on his face made Y/N want to coo. He was so, so sweet. This man. He was incredible, wasn’t he? So human, but honest. Admitting his honest feelings to her despite them being potentially embarrassing. Y/N took a bit of his confidence in tow as she replied to his words, still anxious but knowing that if he could, so could she. 

“I missed you. Was sad you stopped coming around.” She rested her hand on his shoulder. There was a new energy, a static between them that she could feel on her fingertips. “It wasn’t silly, though. Your feelings are valid. I understand. I’d probably be a bit hurt if I had a great kiss with someone and then found out they were supposedly seeing someone else not long after. It’s an icky feeling.” Y/N truly couldn’t blame him. She could blame Brad, though. She would. 

“Yeah, but I should have… I dunno. Something felt off, I should have trusted my gut as you like to say.” He teased lightly, moving his hand up to the side of her neck. “But… ‘great kiss’, huh?” His raspberry lips, still wet from his sip of beer, turned up in a smirk. “You thought so? How great was it, really?” 

Y/N could feel herself flush. God, she had been speaking truth so it hadn’t crossed her mind on how she worded it but somehow, she wasn’t regretting it. If anything, she felt a bit of relief, though his teasing made her flustered. “Stop.” She pushed his shoulder. “I was just- I was just saying.” She grumbled, eyes falling from his back to his curled mouth. She remembered just how good it felt against her own, how his hand had tightened on the back of her costume and urged her closer while the other had delicately held her jaw. A gentle, commanding presence. A will she was willing to bend to. 

“Oh, don’t look away, sweetness. M’just teasing.” He cooed, lifting his knuckle to bump her chin back up. “Look cute when you’re embarrassed though. It’s sweet.” His confidence seemed to rise again at her words, which relieved her slightly. At least one of them was feeling it. “For the record- it was a really, really great kiss. S’part of why I wanted to ask you out, hm? Wanted more of that. You’re such a sweet little thing. Always so kind to everyone, maybe a little shy but… s’cute.” Laying on the praise was making her feel like she was boiling, a shy mewl leaving her mouth as she went to divert her eyes again but was interrupted by his hand. 

“No more of that. Let me see your pretty eyes when m’talking to you.” It was like he had shifted, making her eyes widen. Her body wanted to respond, blinking rapidly before nodding at him slowly. “Good. Can’t believe there was so much wasted time. M’gonna have words with Brad later, but I don’t think we should wait much more. Do you?” his thumb brushed her bottom lip, making her thighs want to squeeze together. This was a side of him she had only seen the tiniest blip of when they kissed, but god, did she like it. Her body hanging on to his words. 

“N-No.” She tripped over the word. “How d’you mean?” The tone was breathless, still in awe of how the situation had shifted. How his hand held the back of her neck and his hand kept her chin up so he could see her eyes. They hooded slightly, tummy twisting in anticipation. He was close, much closer than she had originally thought, and holding her face in a similar fashion to their first kiss. 

“Shouldn’t wait to do what we both obviously want. I’d like t’take you out when we’re able to get out of the house, but we were held back because of some lies… and I had a lot planned for us all from that one little, really good kiss.” He murmured. The side of his face was illuminated by the roaring fire, the movie fading into the back of her mind as her eyes searched his face. “It’s been hard to be around you knowing what this mouth tastes like and knowing the pretty little noise you let out when I went t’pull away. Didn’t even want to but you seem to forget to breathe when you’re being kissed, silly girl.” He chuckled under his breath. 

“Only with you.” She whispered. It hadn’t been something she meant to say out loud but seeing his smile was worth it- even a tiny bit of a blush if she was seeing correctly. He was stealing a bit of her brain power, she thinks, but at this point she didn’t mind. Harry could take over and she would happily follow. 

“Yeah? With me?” He taunted, leaning closer and feeling his nose brush hers. It was cooler than his own, the fire only now starting to heat the room up- but he wanted to keep her warm in another way. At her nod, he let out a sigh. “So can I kiss you again? It’s all I can think about, y’know. When you’re around. Been dying to kiss you and even more. Such a sweet thing, y’are. So good to me. Make me laugh, make me smile. Was gutted when I thought you were with someone else. I’ll tell you a secret.” his thumb brushed her chin again, close enough that his breath could be felt against her lips. “It drove me mad, thinking about you with some other bloke. Someone who I know can’t make you feel half as good as I can. Can’t treat you like the perfect thing you are. Proper princess, aren’t you?” 

Y/N was hanging on to his words, nodding along. She always wanted that, wanted to be treated like she was a diamond. To be delicately handled when need be, spoiled with affection. Harry had that quality to him, a man who could take care of business but also come home and dote. At least it seemed that way. She had to imagine him after work, suit jacket strown against the side of the couch and his tie undone, glass of bourbon in his hand. Imagine climbing in his lap and pressing kisses to his face and watching the tension in his body melt away. Let him take out his frustrations on her body instead of letting it fester on his own. 

“I can be.” She replied, leaning into him. “I’d like it, a lot.” It felt hard to come up with the right words to express how she felt, how much she genuinely felt the urge to just jump on him- but he beat her to it.

Buttoning their lips together, he scooted closer to her and held her jaw tenderly. Touching her in a way reminiscent of the way he had before, she was stiff for a mere moment before melting into his touch. He was warm, much more so than her, and the blanket that had been thrown over his lap shifted so he could get closer to her. Y/N followed suit, lifting her hand to his chest, palm down on the heated shirt. His heart could be felt thumping away underneath her grasp, cluing her into the fact he was just as worked about about it as she was. 

When he pulled back for a second she let out another whine, though the air felt good in her lungs. It was hard to breathe when he was kissing her, not wanting to waste a single second of the experience. Her brain was a loop of his name, not thinking about the oxygen she needed. Now she was needy, knowing that her feelings were returned in a way. She whined again as he halted her from going in again. “Breathe, sweetness. I’ll keep kissing you, but you’ve got t’remember to breathe for me.” His voice was hypnotic and he had all the control. Y/N willingly let it go. She wanted to give it to him. 

“Sorry.” She peeped. “It’s hard.. Hard to think.” There was nothing but honesty in her tone, making him want to coo. Y/N was so precious, it hurt. Harry loved that he had this effect on her. The girl was putty in his hands, marshmallow fluff seeping between his fingertips. He hadn’t gotten to see this side of her before and he loved it. Being a man who was in charge most of the time and thoroughly enjoyed it, he loved that she put her trust in him and made herself malleable. 

“Mm? S’hard to think when I’m kissing this pretty mouth?” He smiled, “Good. You don’t have to think. I’ll take care of you, sweet thing.” He brushed hair off her face before sitting back on the couch. “Come sit on my lap, darling. Don’t worry your pretty little head about a thing.” He was taking the reins now, and Y/N eagerly followed. Clambering onto his thighs, he had shucked the blanket to the floor and let her warming body settle on top of his. Her body melting into his lap, she clutched his tee shirt before surging back in and connecting their mouths back together.

Y/N was needy in a way she hadn’t experienced before. One of her hands slipped into his hair as he returned the kiss with matching fervor, sliding his hand down her waist and pulling her in so she was pressed against him. Breasts against his chest, the plushness of her body making his fingers dig a bit deeper as he licked into her mouth. She was his willing accomplice, his sweet escape as she mewled softly against his tongue. This was even better than their first kiss, in the privacy of Harry’s home where she could let herself go fuzzy. She’d known him long enough, trusted him, pined after him- Y/N was ready and willing for him. Spreading her thighs over his lap further and making sure they were touching in every single way possible. 

A noise she wasn’t familiar with left her throat, a little grumbly moan as he sucked on her tongue and pulled off before taking more. She hadn’t been kissed like this before, her body burning as it got heated rather quickly.The revelation of returned feelings, the pining they’d silently been doing, the kiss they’d shared that haunted them, the desperation to make up for lost time- it all was a perfect concoction to the perfect storm. Hand sliding over one another, revving up the neediness as she slowly began to shift in his lap. Rolling her hips. A dangerous but necessary move. 

“Careful, Darling.” The warning was mumbled against her mouth. “M’burning for you. Keep rubbing yourself against me like a little kitten and m’gonna take care of it.” All of the pent up neediness was showing itself, rearing its head and spilling over onto the carpet. Y/N would be embarrassed if she wasn’t so into him, and if he didn’t help guide her hips on him. She wanted to be his, wanted to know what he sounded like. She was in awe of how good it felt to just rub up against him. The large hand cuffed around her waist while their spit slicked lips hungrily kissed one another. Harry was unraveling her and he barely had to try. Pathetic, maybe, but he had a strong effect. 

She continued the movement, even going as far to rub a bit harder before she was physically stopped, his hand gripping her chin and tugging her away. It was disorienting, making her whine in sadness, but she looked at him with a bleary gaze ad his thumb wiped at some of the wetness smeared under her mouth. “Need you to tell me how far t’go.” Harry wanted to be sure he wasn’t crossing any boundaries. He needed to. With any of his partners he established those, but Y/N especially. He would weep if he misunderstood and make her uncomfortable. “C’mon, pretty girl. I know you’re a bit out of it, but let me know what you want.” He could feel her squirm on his lap, but a simple raise of an eyebrow made her freeze. 

“Anything.” She whispered. “Anything, please. Just want…” She swallowed, trying to say it properly. “Just want to make you feel good. Want you to want me. S’cold, I need you to keep me warm.” Her tone was a little pathetic, but Harry seemed to enjoy it. Relish in it, actually, with how much she was desperate for it. 

“Oh, sweet baby. Want you regardless of what this body offers me… But if you want me to do anything I want, you won’t mind me slipping these off?” He plucked at the waistband of her fuzzy pajama pants. Light blue with little penguins and snowflakes. “And this?” Her white cropped tank top. Her cardigan was hung over the back of the couch, and he had access to the bare skin of the sliver of her stomach. “Yeah?” He replied to her head bobbing in agreement. “I can see my pretty girl and keep her warm?” 

“Mhm.” She agreed. “Take it off. Want it off.” Her hands tugged at his shirt, making it lift up slightly. It was well known he was covered in tattoos but she wanted it up close and personal. She wanted bare skin against her own, wanted to bite on the curve of his neck and see what sounds he would make. 

“Okay, needy thing.” He laughed through his nose, tugging his shirt over his head to expose himself. Swallows at the collar bones, a dusting of chest hair, the butterfly on his stomach. His arms showing off more ink, his muscles- god, he was good. So fucking hot that Y/N felt herself ruining her panties even further. How was it possible for a man to work her up just from a little kissing and grinding, merely looking at his shirtless form in the way it had for her? “How’s it, hm?” 

“So pretty.” Her voice mumbled, running her hands hesitantly down his chest. Brushing his nipples slightly, making him groan before they reached his butterfly tattoo. “You’re so pretty, H.” It made the man’s ego raise up, not really being called pretty all that often. Sexy, handsome, sure. But pretty was a newer one.

“You’re prettier.” He kissed her jaw, tangling his digits in the hem of her top. What he hadn’t expected was for her bare breasts to be exposed as he lifted it up. The top had a built in bra, leaving little to the imagination to begin with but… god, he was in heaven. Dipping his head down, he kissed the top of her chest before making his way down with sticky kisses. “God, fuck me. You’re fucking gorgeous.” He hissed, palming one of her tits. “Been trying to hard to keep my eyes away from these but, but I keep droolin’ over them. Imagined them covered in my cum, did y’know that?” He worked over the curve of the exposed one whilst squeezing the other. Enjoying the feel of her in his palms. “That’s the only way they could look prettier. Covered in me.” His tongue found her nipple, making her squeak. 

Y/N let out a squeak, moving a hand to his hair as he worshiped her chest. Licking, kissing, sucking, even biting down softly on her nipple before switching sides, letting his thumb brush over her now wet and slightly swollen nipple. Her cunt wept, her clit throbbing as her breathing got heavier and she tried to withhold her noises. She was making some, sure, but it was embarrassing how much wanted to pour from her lips. 

“Don’t hold back from me.” He pinched her nipple harder than before, making her squeal. “Said I wanted to hear those noises, didn’t I? Be good for me.” The slight scolding only made her hotter. Something about the tone, something about Harry having complete and utter control over her body in this way had her panting. 

“Sorry, m’sorry.” She simpered, spreading her legs further on his lap. Her hot cunt needed some relief, desperately. Her clit rubbing against him and the fabric of her now useless panties had her mewling, his mouth sucking harder on her nipple, hungry for it. “It feels so good, I can’t think.” Her words came out almost as a cry. She was obsessed with this feeling, albeit a tad overwhelming. 

Pulling away fro her nipple with a soft pop, Harry licked over his shiny lips before cooing at her. “Who said you need to think, baby?” He stroked her hair, tangling his fingers in it and firmly tugging her head where he wanted it. “My silly girl. Just let me do the thinking. All you’ve got to do is focus on warming my cock so I can keep you nice n’warm too, yeah? Let me take over a little bit.” His tone was intoxicating, the cadence of his speech placing her under a spell. She wanted this, she wanted him to do this for them. “Good. S’time for these to come off. Want to take a peek at that pussy.” He playfully smacked her ass, motioning for her to stand on her shaky legs and let him tug her leggings down. 

“What have you done, sweetness?” He crooned, looking at her panties. “Messy little thing, you’ve soaked right through them.” Nimble fingers rubbed over the gusset of her panties, the warm, wet fabric doing nothing to hide her cunt. The soft pink had gone transparent and sticky, making his cock jerk in his sweats. God, she was exquisite. A complete angel. How had he managed to keep his hands off of her? “Love that you got this sticky for me, baby. Y’like me that much?” 

It was almost humiliating, the burn in her cheeks making her hot but… she liked it. She liked how he was talking to her, sweet but a tiny hint of condescending to it. It wasn’t something she knew she liked until this moment- perhaps it was something she just liked with Harry. But she shivered at the feeling of his warm fingers finding her pearled clit under the fabric, rubbing lightly over it. “I do.” She whispered. “Like you a l-lot.” Her words stuttered when he pressed his thumb over her, wiggling it back and forth. It was slightly humiliating, standing in just her wrecked panties in front of the man, but the shame licked into flames of arousal as he pulled her in and peppered kisses to her stomach. Soft, sensual ones that left a print of his saliva there before he pulled back to tug the silly waste of fabric down her legs. They were tossed to the side, Harry switching positions to have her sit on the couch. 

“Good. Like you too, sweet girl. Felt so guilty, cumming all over my fist while imagining you. That perfect mouth and these pretty thighs…” He hissed, running his hands over them as he got on his knees in front of her. “But part of me didn’t care. Thought I was fantasizing about someone else’s woman, but it was you. So I did it anyway.” His lips found her sensitive inner thighs, kissing tenderly as he spread her open. “It’s a shame we wasted so much time, but m’not wasting another second. 

He didn’t. A gasp tore from her mouth as he licked up her slit, tasting the sweetness he had been deprived of. Something started to unfurl inside of him, settling further as he hooked his hands under her knees and urged them to stay spread as his arms moved to their place. His fands looped around, placing one hand on the mound above her cunt, eyes peering up at her as he took his time. Languid, long licks as he cleaned her up. She had made a mess of herself, and he was taking care of it. Of course he was. He had wanted to do this for months, now. Spreading her open and tasting her right from the source. 

It was like he fed off of her sounds. The tiny bucks of her hips that he quickly eased by holding her down slightly, only making her more wet. He was taking mental note of the things that she liked, and being controlled was one of them. He’d never have guessed, but he was having a beautiful time figuring it all out. His cock was throbbing, in need of relief, but he ignored it in favor of her pleasure. Pulling up momentarily, he kept their eyes locked as he let a line of split dribble from his lips to her cunt, stringing over it before he lowered his angled hand and gave her clit a few taps. 

“Fuck.” Y/N whimpered. “You’re too good at this. Gonna make me cum.” She was a mess, but Harry wasn’t going to give her that. Not yet, anyways. 

“No, sweetness. You’re going to cum around my cock. M’just getting you warmed up.. Although you didn’t seem to need it.” He slipped his finger inside of her after releasing a thigh to rest it on his shoulder. “Nice and wet for me already. I’m just being selfish. Wanted to taste you for ages.” His crush had been there for longer, he supposed. It had grown slowly over time, blossoming into what it was now. 

He was torturing her, she was sure of it. His finger, thicker than her own, curling slightly as his mouth attached to her clit, suckling on the swollen bud. How could she hold back from orgasm when it felt this good? She was getting closer and closer with each pull into his mouth, the wet, sounds of sucking filling the air and her hands clenching around his hair, pulling him further into her cunt. His nose brushed up against her and little she could do but take it, he continued on it, working her until her thighs began to shake and the pleasure began to boil in her tummy, almost- until he stopped. Cooing at her as she began to whine, squirming in his hold and almost tearing up at her orgasm that she had been robbed of until he rose up and shut her up with a kiss. 

“Told you what I wanted. Don’t pout, as pretty as it is. I’m gonna make you cum, baby.” He brushed their noses together before he walked over to his side table and opened the drawer. One day later she’d ask him about why he had a stash of condoms in there, but for now her eyes were far too focused on the obvious outline of his prick through the sweatpants. Nearly gagging for it, she felt, she peeped up at him as he stood back in front of her. “Normally I’d ask how you’d want it, but since you’re a bit thoughtless today, m’gonna choose. Lay back.” He pointed her in the direction of where he wanted her to lay. 

“Don’t- don’t you want me to suck you?” Her voice sounded much needier than she had wanted, but he was endeared. His sweetness was obviously wanting to, looking at him as he palmed over himself and shook his head. 

“Not today. I’ll bust right inside that mouth. As much as I want to, and I will have it later… Not now. Want to feel you wrapped around me when I cum.” Slipping down his sweats, Y/N watched as his cock bobbed up and the pulsing between her thighs intensified. He was big, thick, and wet. The tip ruddy, dark pink and weeping with precum and a prominent vein extending over the side, trimmed hair around the base up to the little line of hair that went over his stomach- yes, she had never seen a cock as appealing before, and she was feeling hot over it. He apparently noticed too, a smirk on his lips and dimple extended. “No. You’ll taste it later, but I need to be inside of you.” He liked licking her out a bit too much. 

Y/N blinked up at him, nodding her head as she swallowed thickly. Settling between her thighs again, this time on his knees, she watched as he slipped the condom on before taking his other hand and cupped her cheek. He softened his gaze, looking over her face before speaking. “Need you to tell me if you want to stop. Any time, any reason and we can be done and go back to cuddling. I like you for far more than your body, sweetness.” He sighed. “Want this to be good for you. Want you to use your pretty mouth and talk t’me so I know how you feel. Don’t hold back.” He was a homeowner and the walls were thick, so it didn’t matter. No one could hear them past the roaring winds outside. The snow itself was silent, his silent savior for making Y/N stuck with him. “Get me, baby? Words.” 

“Yes, I’ll tell you. I want it, I promise.” She whispered. “Think I’ll like anything you do for me. I know I’m safe with you.” And she was. Harry had always been a good friend and she would trust him with her life even beforehand, so handing her body over to his tender care didn’t seem half as scary as it may with someone else. Nerve wracking only because there were feelings there- real feelings they both admitted were felt. 

“That’s my girl.” He smiled, brushing the tip against her cunt. “Gonna push in now.” He paused for a moment, leaning over to give her a kiss before righting himself on his knees and giving her what they both wanted. Fuck, was it good. 

Y/N had never felt so full in her life. Her fingers curled around his wrists as he held her legs up, her stomaching jumping as she panted, Harry filled her up so well she could cry. So deep, so perfectly curved like his dick had been made for her, she dug her nails into him as she let out cries of pleasure. 

“That’s what I wanted, baby. Let me hear you.” He crooned, feeling sweat begin to bead on his brow. Working his cock into her, he listened to the sounds of their sex, how wet she had gotten solely for him, and he was happy. God, he was fucking happy. Not only was he inside of her, but her feelings mirrored his own. She wasn’t taken- but she would be now. 

“I feel so good.” She said up to him. “I’m so full and you’re so deep, I don’t know.. How does it feel so good?” It was evident her head was a bit in the clouds, but he was there to take care of her. “Stretching me… Don’t stop.” She babbled, closing her eyes as he hit exactly where she needed.

He continued, watching as her cunt spread open for him. Taking him deep, he was enamored with the sight of her wetness all over his cock, wishing he could ditch the latex covering his shaft. All he wanted was to leave traces of her on his skin, leave her smell and taste. This was only the beginning of their relationship, the very prologue, and he couldn’t get enough of her. “M’not gonna stop, sweet girl. You feel too good.” He exhaled. “S’only our first time. Gonna keep fucking you until you can’t take it.” It was serious. He’d held himself back from her for months now, and it was nearly christmas. “My girl… You take it so well, hm? Think you were meant to take my cock.” 

“I was- I am.” She replied, blinking up at him blearily. “Nothing has ever felt so g-good. Want it all the time. Please, I don’t want to feel empty.” Her eyes watered a bit, making his cock twitch as he cooed down at her. Something about it was so erotic to him, watching her cry for his cock. For him. She needed it, needed him and he was the only one that could provide the very thing she needed. He was the only thing she could crave and he would make sure of that. 

“Oh, sweetheart. So gorgeous… M’not gonna let you stay empty.” He cooed. “No, I like far too much. Want to be tucked as deep in you, as long as I can. You promised to keep my cock warm, yeah?” He wiped away a tear, bringing it off her face. “I’ll keep you warm too.” And he was. Y/N was beginning to get sticky with sweat. Feeling her hair start to stick to the nape of her neck from the room finally feeling the effects of the fire, or his movements and pleasure, she didn’t know the origin. She was almost hot, but that was welcomed. The storm going on outside, snow was coming down hard, but she was nice and warm with Harry. 

Y/N felt a bit speechless. This was not how she had anticipated her night going in the slightest, but she loved every second of it. Each thrust of his cock filling her up led her closer to her orgasm, knowing she was sticky with arousal and sopping wet on his cock, and he took it in stride. Lowering his hand down to thumb over her clit, soft grunts leaving him as he fucked her. It wasn’t too rough, wasn’t too kinky, but it was perfect. He was treating her with the care she needed. Looking at her with visible fondness, only teasing her a bit, it was evident that he cared about her and that only brought her closer. 

“M’gonna cum.” She whispered. “I’m gonna- I’m so close. Please let me- I was good.” Part of her worried about him deciding he wanted her to hold it again, depriving her of the pleasure, but he didn’t. He kept his thrusts the same, rubbing her clit a bit faster as he continued. 

“Go ahead, my sweet thing. Make a mess on my cock. Cum for me.” She had already dripped all over him, even some towards his thighs, but he wanted more. He craved the mess only she could give him, the wet slap of skin and her puffy pussy contracting around his length. She had been so close on his finger, so he knew she was reaching it from how she squeezed him, but it was almost too good. He was a goner, watching as she arched her back and let out a broken moan, trembling yet again before her mouth dropped open and she came on him. He could feel it, her cunt squeezing him and her body tightening up as it hit her. Pulsing around him as he continued his thrusts inside of her, the delicious heat nearly making him lose his damn mind.  

“Shit…” He hissed, feeling his own start to hit him. “Fuck, baby… fuck.” His voice turned slightly whiny as he held tight onto her leg, his thumb pausing on her clit as the first rope of cum spilled into the condom. Her contracting, hot cunt, her teary eyes, her swollen mouth, all of it was so beautiful that he couldn’t stand it. This was a long time coming, of course, but to actually have her on him, to feel her body react to his touch, to see her cum solely because of him? It was otherworldly. He doubted he’d felt this strongly about an orgasm before, jerking his hips as deep groans left him, imagining there was no barrier in between them as he filled the condom. He knew it was going to overflow, but he didn’t care at this moment. 

All he cared about was lowering himself on top of her and kissing her senseless, holding her face like it was a precious stone. Recovering from this orgasm and kissing her, the giddy feeling never went away.  It stayed as he checked on her, kissing her cheeks and her nose, wiping the hair that was stuck to her face away and murmuring praises to her. “S’my girl. Not going to let you go.” He loved this feeling. “You’re perfect. Can’t believe it took us so long, but now that I’ve got you… M’not letting go.” It was sappy, maybe, but he was finally getting what he wanted. Something he thought he’d lost the chance to have. 

“Don’t want you to let go.” She sniffled, taking his face in her smaller hands once she caught her breath, pressing their lips together again before letting him rest his forehead against her own. “That was perfect. I can’t believe it either…” She stroked his hair back, the slight dampness from sweat not bothering her at all. “Does this mean I’m yours?” It felt a little embarrassing to ask, but she wanted to be clear. 

“Mhm. And I’m yours. No more games. Don’t give a shit what any of our friends have to say… M’pissed I was kept away so long, but I’m not going to do it now. I wasted so much time…” He gave a bittersweet smile. “Been dying to make you mine.” 

“Well…. Merry Christmas.” She giggled, eyes light and bright. Happiness illuminated her features and it nearly stopped his heart. Y/N was so beautiful that it almost hurt. And now she was his. He took her in as the multicolor lights from his tree flashed over the side of her face, heart completely filled with affection. “I’m your gift. No refunds or exchanges.”  He laughed, not able to help himself from taking another kiss. “Best gift I’ve ever received.”

[stsgooo]

Subconscious Reassurance.

✩࿐ summary: even the strongest has dreams he longs to be reality.

warning(s): slight 236 spoilers, shibuya incident spoilers, mentioned death, poor coping mechanisms, lovesick!gojo, girldad!gojo, as usual not proofread (it’s 2 am give me a break). wc; 3.6k

pairing(s): gojo satoru x reader

a/n: keep seeing tiktoks about the lamp story and this came to me. it’s a shortie but i just wanted to get this out. also do we prefer the colorless manga panels or the ones like the above one? i was messing with filters on picsart so lmk :)

divider 1 | previous work | ao3

SATORU ARRIVED HOME EXACTLY 7 PM.

He knew it was true because that’s the time he always arrived. There was no need to glance at the clock or question anyone around him. He knew it was 7PM.

The sun was peeking through the curtains and basking your shared home in a golden hue. Warmth enveloped his very being as he closed the front door behind him. There wasn’t a surface that wasn’t being touched by the sun, that wasn’t feeling the same feelings he did.

The sky outside was illuminated in a mixture of purples, reds, oranges, and pinks. A palate that could be implemented into his very soul and he’d smile in return.

“Daddy!”

The call was familiar and came exactly one minute after Satoru walked through the door.

Again, he didn’t need to glance, he just knew.

A smile blossomed on his lips and he crouched down to catch the little girl that jumped into his arms with a loud squeal. Her nose pressed into her cheek as she happily rambled about how much she missed him. A norm and a routine that he greeted happily with his own reassurances that he missed her infinitely more.

"Daddy," she whined, her tiny chubby fingers reaching up for his blindfold. "Can't see your eyes, daddy."

This happened every night after he arrived home. She would always frown and trace her nails over where his eyes would definitely be. Most of the time it was uncomfortable and, frankly, a little scary, but he always welcomed it with an overly dramatic gasp.

"Oh, sorry, daddy forgot!" He hooked his finger under the fabric and pulled it down to rest against his neck. Her eyes (which were his) met his and brightened considerably. "Is that better, Rie?"

Rie nodded enthusiastically. "Yes!"

Despite the aching behind his right eye, Satoru kept the blindfold off for Rie’s sake. She had always expressed her upmost displeasure for the item since she was a baby. Crying and crying until he finally pulled it off. It’d been a rough first few years trying to get used to pulling the thing off whenever he got home. But he’d grown accustomed to it.

“What’s mama up to?” Satoru asked softly, tracing his finger briefly over the bridge of Rie’s nose as she giggled.

The little girl swayed slightly in his arms. “Mama’s been working in the eating room—“ dining room, Satoru softly corrected with a smile, “—she put on on Yuki for me to watch while she worked.”

“Yuki, huh? Lucky you!” He playfully pinched her cheek which resulted in her swatting his hand with a resounding “daddy!” in protest. Satoru adjusted her on his hip and raised an eyebrow. “Should we go bother mommy?”

Like usual, Rie enthusiastically nodded in response.

Poor you.

True to his routine, he made his way from the front door towards the dining room, loudly. He left no room for you to not hear him coming him and gave you ample opportunity to prepare for his and Rie’s interruption on your precious work (he swore you were almost as bad as Nanam— …. as… as…).

The smile on his lips didn’t falter as his mind trailed away from the forgotten name. What was forgotten obviously wasn’t entirely important. He enthusiastically turned the corner, arm thrown out as Rie squealed happily as his rather jerky movements.

You were as you always were. Responsible. In your usual space occupying your rightful position.

Despite the loud (dramatic) entrance he made, you did not react in anyway. Your eyes were glued to your screen as you furiously typed away a response to whoever got on your bad side today. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight. In fact, this should’ve been around the time Gakuganji of Ya— someone of higher standing emailed you something that didn’t sit right with you. Even the appearance of your amazing and rambunctious husband didn’t seem to deter you from your mission.

Satoru pouted, huffing as he peacefully placed Rie down (the girl now more interested in the TV returning to her show), and crept closer to you. Still, you did not look away.

He leaned over, his chin hooked over his shoulder as he peeked over the words you were putting out into the world. Oddly, he couldn’t read any of the screen. He tried squinting your eyes and blinking a few times— nothing. It was more reminiscent of gibberish than any Japanese he knew. None of it seemed to stay in one place and it all smashed together to create a blob.

You knew how to read and write, he knew that much. Was it something with his eyes? He doubted it. But something wasn’t—

The laptop clicked close.

“You’ve never been one to take a hint, Satoru,” you turned your head to place a soft kiss against his temple in greeting. He could feel your tiny smile against his skin. The warmth of your lips. The coolness of your silvia left behind. His chest ached. He missed— missed? “Although, I knew that before I married you.”

He pushed away the mud in his mind and turned his head, placing a peck against your lips. Strawberries. You always had remnants of strawberries on your lips. Rie’s favorite fruit.

“I think it’s one of my many charming qualities.” He hummed.

You rolled your eyes, but placed a chaste kiss against his lips once again. “Charming is pushing it.” You patted his cheek. “It’s definitely an interesting characteristic.”

Satoru pouted. “You make it sound so unappealing.”

“Well, if the shoe fits…”

He snorted in response, standing to his full height and peeking at you from over his nose. “You know, you’re not innocent either. Thought you said the TV would rot her brain, now you’re putting it on to keep her distracted?” He spared a glance to where Rie was hanging off the couch, upside down, her eyes glued to the television.

You shot him an incredulous look. “Because she’s your daughter and has the self restraint of a puppy. I needed a hour to get some things done.” You pat the top of your laptop. “Sue me.”

Satoru smirked. “I just might for emotional damages.” He gestured towards the laptop with a vague hand. “What exactly had you typing up a storm?”

There was a brief wave of giddiness in his chest when he saw the look in your eyes darken. Passion. Anger. Protectiveness. There were so many things he loved about you. Adored you for. Made him sick to his stomach whenever he thought about it.

“Well, I got an email from —— about some work in Shibuya, but I told him I already checked it out and suffered for it. Well, guess what he said? ——— and ———— suffered too so I can’t complain much. Set me off a bit, had to give him a piece of my mind and remind him what happened.”

Satoru wasn’t sure if he was having a stroke or he was just too awestruck by your beauty; but he swore that your voice simply stopped whenever you spoke names. As if your voice box couldn’t get it out. But you carried on like it was nothing. Your lips had even formed around the words that so desperately wanted to be out there, but were never uttered. You didn’t look panicked or disturbed. If anything, you looked normal. Just sipping from your capri sun that was definitely forced on you by Rie.

It was like he was the only one not hearing it.

It vaguely concerned him, but he was also Gojo Satoru. Sometimes weird things happened that had no explanation.

“But,” you continued once you swallowed down the fruit punch liquid with a twisted face. “I suppose I can’t really blame anyone for what happened. It was Halloween, we were all caught off guard. Some of us suffered for it more than others.”

Satoru, for the life of him, couldn’t recall what happened on Halloween. But he should. He had that overwhelming feeling that he really, really should.

Either way, he gave a nonchalant shrug, “Eh, my motto is that it’s always easier to forgive and forget.” He snatched the remainder of your capri sun and gave a loud slurp.

You grin, resting your chin on your cupped fingers. “I suppose so.” You eyed him warmly, then nodded to the chair next to you. Always warm. Always welcoming. “Now, what did you get up to today?”

Satoru groaned, flopping onto the seat with a creak. He placed the capri sun down to place his hands against his face. “Two specials grades in Iwate, one grade one in Kagawa, then three nasty things leeching off on the playground on the way home.” He knew he should feel exhausted. He usually did. But that day, this day, he did not. If anything, he felt well rested.

Odd.

You hum softly. “They’re overworking you, Satoru,” your tone is barely there. Your words could be missed if the house had any movement or loud noises. But it was just you and him. The soft background noises of your daughter. Always you and him. “They should recognize that you’re just a man. One day it’ll be too much. One day you’ll snap in half.”

Satoru frowned, finding the sudden shift in tone a little unsettling. “I’m the strongest, no need to worry.” He waved a passive hand in the air between you.

“I’ll always worry. It’s been my job to worry.” Your eyes moved towards Rie almost melancholic. “She’ll worry too, you know. She does worry. More than she should at 10.”

Satoru frowned deeper. “Eh…?” He blinked slowly, eyes sliding to Rie with confusion. 10? Was he crazy? Blind? Since when was the little girl sitting on the couch 10? Last he checked, she was six. It was 2012. Were you losing it on him? Was this your subtle way of telling him you’re spiraling again? “Baby, she is not—“

“I know you worry too. Think you’ve been worried about losing since the moment you got home.”

Losing? He’s never lost. Well, except those few times. But they didn’t count. Those were intentional loses.

Satoru was beginning to feel as though you both were having two different conversations. “Y/N, I’m not following.” He stated softly, eyebrows furrowed.

“What do you have to do tomorrow, Satoru?” You breezed through as if you knew where that was going. A pensive expression on your face now.

Again, he frowned, narrowing his eyes. “Tomorrow? I…Well, I’m going to Shinjuku to… to…” To…what…? What was it he had to do? He could feel it deep in his chest. That ache. That unfamiliar emptiness that made him rub over his heart softly. There was something he was missing.

“Tomorrow’s going to be romantic,” You said wistfully, eyes distant as you sighed. “Well, it’s supposed to be.”

December 24th.

December 24th. So I don’t have to remember two different dates.

How romantic.

Satoru felt his gut churn. He wasn’t sure why. He couldn’t explain it but everything felt so tight now.

“I’m not.. I don’t…?”

Why couldn’t he get words out. Why did he stare at you like that? Unmoving, unblinking? Why did his eyes collect with tears.

Why did you look so sad?

You reached out, taking his hand. It’s cold. It feels cold. Not like the usual warmth that envelopes him whenever you held him. Whenever you reached out from him.

You’re cold.

You take his hand. “Satoru, what’s happening tomorrow?”

Seriously, what is with you?

Satoru clenched his jaw. “What are you doing?” He wasn’t sure why but he felt so unnerved. He felt like he’s been disillusioned. As if his world was crumbling. But he didn’t get it. He didn’t understand.

You’re cold.

You looked briefly disappointed in his response. “You’re not well. You’re trying to appear to be, but you’re not. She worries. She’s so worried. And you know it.” Your hand reached out and cupped his cheek. Your cold thumb gently stroked against his bone, against the tears that were flowing— why was he crying?

“I’m fine. Just a little tired.” He didn’t feel tired. “I just need a nap.” He didn’t feel tired.

“Oh, Satoru, I’m so sorry,” you uttered it, barely audible. But it was enough to conjure up an earth shattering sob from his chest. A heartbroken tremble under your touch. “I’m so sorry for leaving you.”

“You’re right here?” Confusion was clear in his tone and his expression as he stared back at you.

You just smiled sadly in response.

He shook his head. “You’re right here.” He prided a finger against your chest. Firm. But cold.

You tilted your head and blinked slowly at him.

Satoru wasn’t sure why, but he took in as deep breath. Like he couldn’t quite catch it in the first place.

“You didn’t— You’re right here!” He desperately clutched onto your hand, pressing your skin against his own. “You’re right here. This-This is real. This-This is you. Please. Please, this is you.”

You only stared sadly in response.

Satoru wasn’t sure what was happening. Why he was so panicked or why he felt so terribly sad— but he knew it was making him quiver and sob. Why? Why? Why did this all have to happen to you? Of all people had you been the one to suffer?

What suffering?

“I…” He felt breathless. Feather light. He felt like he had no control of his lips or his tongue. “Tomorrow I fight… Sukuna…?”

Sukuna? Since when? When did—

“Since before Shibuya. Since before Itadori Yuji.” You answered his thoughts.

Itadori Yuji. Satoru thought that name sounded familiar. A blank face appeared in his mind, the back of a pink hair head facing him. Itadori Yuji.

He felt like he was living someone else’s life. As if he were placed in some point in space where nothing bad could touch it.

But these feelings, these tears, this ache in his chest wasn’t peaceful. It wasn’t safe from the darkness of the world.

“Nanami… Yaga… Nobara…” You uttered the names that made his ears ring. That made his muscles tense and his heart sputter to a catastrophic halt. “But still you dream of Suguru…. of me…. of the lives you desperately want to hold on to.”

Suguru… you…

Satoru’s lips quivered.

Suguru… you….

“Why?” You asked the million dollar question.

Breathless whispers against sweat slick skin. Endless touches of tense muscle. Hair hanging and tickling. Eyes sure and hardened with undoubted honesty.

Why? Satoru thought that question was dumb. Why would the earth dream to reach out for the moon and the sun?

He stared at you, big blue eyes glittering with shimmering tears. “I’m the strongest… I should’ve saved the ones I loved… I should’ve… I’m the strongest.”

To be whole. To be loved. To love.

You sigh softly. Sadly. “Satoru, you can’t save everyone.”

“But I could.”

“Obviously not.”

The words were final. Absolute. No doubt. And he supposed, a deep part of him knew, you were right.

But that other part of himself. The one that hated himself for what happened, for whatever happened, convinced him otherwise.

“You don’t—“

“Get it?” You raised an eyebrow at his blink. “I’m your subconscious. I’m your deepest, most personal thoughts. I get it.”

Satoru stared in return. “…huh?”

You pressed your lips together. “Satoru, you’re the strongest. But you don’t always have to be.” You whispered if. A nefarious secret between the both of you that couldn’t be touched. That couldn’t be shared outside of this setting. You scoot closer in your chair. You’re slotted between his legs. “There’ll come a time where you need to step back. To rest. And let those you’ve guided this far to do their jobs.”

Resting. Stepping back.

No one had ever spoken those words to him before. It was never a guarantee nor was it ever a possibility. He feared, even now, he couldn’t even dream about something like that.

Are you the strongest because you’re Gojo Satoru? Or are you Gojo Satoru because you’re the strongest?

Years later, Satoru didn’t know what to make of his words. But Suguru had always known him better, he supposed.

Distracted, he didn’t realize you had started to card your fingers through his hair, bringing his head against your shoulder. It was a blissful moment when he came to his senses. When he felt your fingers ghost his scalp. When he felt your lips brush against his temple.

“You should take a nap, you look tired.”

The moment the words left your lips, his eyes felt heavy and he felt exhausted. He hadn’t felt tired before. He would love to sleep. But…

“What about you?” He whispered, eyes unmoving from your face. He studied the bow of your lips. The softness and warmth of your eyes. The faint blush across your cheeks. The little wrinkles on your forehead. “If I close my eyes, you’ll be gone.”

“No,” you shook your head and placed your free hand against his rapidly beating heart. “I’ll be here.”

How cliche. He wanted to say. But he would take it. He’d take and savor any moment with you.

He took in a shuddering breath. “I love you.”

“I love you.” No hesitation. No doubt. How could this be a dream? Something of his own mind? He nuzzled into your neck with a small sigh. “Take care of her.”

Take care of her.

Take care of her.

Satoru woke with a soft gasp.

He was not happy or surprised to find the ceiling of his dark room instead of the dining room.

The clock next to his bed illuminated 2AM in angry red outline. He’d been asleep for approximately 4 hours. And dreamt of you. Again.

His jaw clenched as he tried to push down the tears that threatened to spill over. You, angelic, in your rightful place typing away. That’s what you should be doing.

Instead, you were one of the first to die in Shibuya.

It’d been you, then Nanami, then Nobara, then whoever else.

She got caught up with Noritoshi in the tunnels, that Death Womb Painting kid tried to explain to Satoru when everyone else had been too distraught and nervous to reveal it themselves. She didn’t suffer.

It didn’t bring him comfort. Satoru was pretty sure it was a lie, but it still brought him no comfort.

It gave him all the more reason to make Kenjaku suffer.

December 24th.

Today was the day.

Almost two months since your death. Christmas Eve.

Satoru was pretty sure he was about to do the same. Embrace death for the sake of others.

He could look around, tell all of them that he’d win, but there was that growing inkling that this was mounting up against him. That Sukuna— Megumi— knew exactly what to do to get one up on him. He feared the unknown. The possibility this was it.

What would you say?

“Dad?”

Satoru’s eyes dragged from the ceiling and to the spot next to him.

Now 10, Rie was older and less rambunctious. But he blamed that partly on your death and his sudden sealing.

She had clung to him since he returned. Tears streaming down her face as she hugged him, begged him to never go again— she thought she’d lost him just like mama. (It’d been six years since he heard her call you mama.) And she slept in his bed. Said she couldn’t sleep otherwise. She’d curl up against him and he’d run his hands through her hair as he hummed a long forgotten lullaby to guide her to sleep.

Shoko said she needed this. Him.

Satoru knew she needed you.

“Rie, did I wake you?” He asked sympathetically.

“No,” surprisingly, it sounded like the truth. “I’ve been up.”

He frowned, “Why?”

There was a prolonged pause between them. A thick layer of hesitation passed and Satoru tensed up. What could she possibly be up for?

When he heard the small sniffle, his heart ached.

He sat up and drew her into his arms, holding her close as he pressed kisses against her head. “Hey, hey, why are you crying?”

“I don’t want you to die!” Rie sobbed immediately. “I don’t want you to fight stupid Sukuna! I just want you to stay here with me— I can’t lose you too!”

I can’t lose you too.

Satoru pressed his lips together as tears sprung to his eyes. “Rie, I’m not going to die.” Such sure words for a man who was worried over his own mortality only moments ago. Who had to be reassured by his subconscious image of his dead wife that it’s okay to lose.

Rie shook her head frantically. “No! I heard Kusakabe say you will!” She sobbed, clutching onto his night shirt with a vice like hold.

Satoru silently cursed the man as he rubbed Rie’s back. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? What does Kusakabe know anyway, the schmuck?” His poor attempt at joking fell flat, Rie only continued to cry. With a heavy sigh, Satoru pulled back, holding her face in his hands. “What do I always say, hm? I’m the strongest. I’ll get one up on him.”

Rie stared up at him and Satoru was painfully aware of how young she was. “You promise?” She uttered.

Satoru hesitated.

If he were to promise and it didn’t actually work out, who was he? Would she resent him for the rest of her life? Would she try to forget him and spit on his memory? He’d been promised many things in life by people he looked up to and every single one had been broken. Resentment festered. Trust was broken.

What kind of father was he if he—

Take care of her. She worries.

Satoru tucked some of her hair— your hair— behind her ear. “I promise.” He whispered, pressing a tender kiss against her forehead. “I promise.”

Rie clutched onto him once again. “I love you.”

No hesitation.

“I love you too.”

The worries of Sukuna and Kenjaku could wait until morning. Satoru had to focus on her now.

Take care of her.

[luvst4rc0r3]

HII so idk what's going on with the whole pregnant reader thing but I feel like u stabbed me bcz why u gotta make it so sad😭 but I thought about the idea that after reader's miscarriage and Jinx takes in Isha, she gets a taste of what it's like to be a mom and it gives her the hope to try again. But then after Isha dies, everything all goes to shit again (events of act 3 play out), but then after Jinx gets out of jail and teams up with Ekko, she goes to reader and says something like "once this is all over, we're getting out of here." And they move to bildgewater together and have an actual child there in a more healthy and happy space :)) maybe for a time skip part but idk lol, anyway just thought I'd leave this here!! Live laugh love Jinx

request: Your “I don’t wanna be here anymore.”

It was super interesting.

And also made me cry😭😭

Can you write a happy ending for it?

TY if you do

request:I'm gonna need a good ending where Jinx and r have the baby and live happily ever after because that last ask fucked me up😭😭😭😭

"But good things don’t always last forever"

Jinx x F!Reader

WARNINGS: DEATH, MENTIONS OF MISCARRIAGE!! WC: 3165

NOTE: erm I hope yall are ok now.

Summary: After a heartbreaking miscarriage, you fall into despair, but Jinx—determined to bring light back into your life—unexpectedly finds a little girl named Isha, who needs a family just as much as you both do.

PT.1

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

The hideout was quiet. Too quiet.

Jinx hated it.

She sat on the edge of the bed, bouncing her leg as she watched you, curled up with your back to her, shoulders trembling under the blanket. You’d barely moved in hours. Days. It felt like weeks.

Jinx wasn’t great with words, but she knew that whatever she said wouldn’t make it better. The grief sat heavy between you, thick and suffocating. She wanted to tear it apart, blow it up, do something—but this wasn’t something she could fix with bombs or bullets.

So, she stayed. As much as she wanted to run from feelings, from pain, she stayed.

She reached out, brushing her fingers over your arm.

“Hey, toots…” Her voice was softer than usual. Hesitant. “Y’wanna get outta here? Just for a bit?”

You didn’t answer. Didn’t even stir.

Jinx sighed. She pressed a quick kiss to your shoulder before getting up.

“I’ll be back,” she muttered.

You didn’t respond.

Jinx wandered the streets of Zaun, hands stuffed in her pockets, trying to ignore the ache in her chest. She hated seeing you like that. Hated knowing there was nothing she could do to take away your pain.

She needed to find something. Something that could help.

It had been weeks since everything fell apart—since the baby was gone. Since your heart had shattered into something unrecognizable. You barely left the bed, barely ate, barely breathed.

Jinx never said it, but you knew it scared her.

She’d always been the reckless one, the impulsive one, the wild one. But now, you were the one slipping away.

And Jinx? She didn’t know how to stop it.

So, she did what she always did when the world felt like too much. She ran.

Jinx wasn’t looking for a kid.

She was looking for a fight, for trouble—something, anything to pull her out of her head. Out of you and the way you wouldn’t even look at her anymore.

But what she found was a girl.

Small. Filthy. Silent.

Fell on top of her while some guys chased her.

Once Jinx shot off the guys she crouched in front of her, frowning.

“Hey, shorty. What’s your deal?”

No answer.

The girl just stared.

Jinx clicked her tongue. “Oh, great. You’re broken too.”

Still nothing.

Jinx was about to leave—she wasn’t in the business of picking up strays—but then she saw it.

A fresh bruise, deep and purple, blooming along the girl’s cheek.

Jinx’s stomach twisted.

“…Shit.”

She wasn’t good at this stuff. She wasn’t you. But you… you would’ve stopped. You would’ve helped.

And maybe, just maybe, if she brought this kid home, you’d look at her again.

Jinx sighed, rubbing the back of her neck.

“follow me or not. I don’t care”

She followed.

She studied the kid. Dirty, scared, alone. Just like she used to be.

Maybe… maybe this was it. The something she’d been looking for.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

You didn’t know what to think when Jinx came home with her.

You sat up in bed, blinking blearily as Jinx strolled in, dragging a small, silent child behind her.

“Babe, meet Isha. Isha, meet Babe.” Jinx grinned like this was normal. Like she hadn’t just brought home a whole person.

You just stared.

“…What?”

Jinx flopped onto the bed beside you, throwing an arm over your waist.

“She fell on me. Didn’t say a word. Figured, y’know, she could use some better company. We could use some better company.”

You looked at the child.

She was thin. Too thin. Her hands were curled into tight little fists, her lips pressed together in an unreadable line. She looked… wary. Not scared, not trusting. Just waiting.

For what, you weren’t sure.

But you knew that feeling.

Jinx sighed against your shoulder. “You’re not mad, are ya?”

You swallowed. No. You weren’t mad.

You were just… tired.

But when you looked at Isha—really looked at her—something deep inside you cracked.

Maybe it was the way she wouldn’t meet your eyes. Maybe it was the way she stood, stiff and defensive, like she expected you to tell her to leave.

Or maybe it was the way, despite all of it, she still stayed.

“…She can stay,” you murmured.

Jinx made a triumphant noise.

Isha didn’t react.

But when you got up and grabbed a blanket, draping it over her tiny shoulders, she didn’t flinch away.

That was enough.

For now.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

The first few days were quiet.

Isha barely made a sound. You barely spoke. Jinx bounced between watching you both like a hawk and blowing things up in the dead of night, like movement could stop her from thinking too hard.

But, slowly, something shifted.

It started small.

You’d wake up in the morning, roll over, and instead of being met with an empty bed, you’d find Isha sitting on the floor, drawing.

She wasn’t great at it—her little hands were too shaky, the colors smeared—but it was something.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you wanted to do something, too.

So, one day, you sat beside her.

She tensed—always waiting for rejection—but when you picked up a crayon and started drawing next to her, she hesitated. Then, slowly, she handed you a blue one.

That was the first good day.

Jinx practically vibrated with excitement when she saw the two of you, sprawled out on the floor, doodling nonsense.

“Holy shit, progress!” she cheered, flopping onto your back. “Babe, you’re alive again!”

You snorted, nudging her playfully.

“This is a miracle!” Jinx gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. “Someone get me a camera—this belongs in the history books!”

Isha watched Jinx’s antics with wide eyes, and when you turned to her, you swore you saw something flicker on her face.

Something close to a smile.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

You couldn’t sleep much anymore.

ever since everything.

And tonight? Tonight was bad.

She woke up to the sound of you breathing too fast, fingers twitching in your sleep.

She didn’t hesitate.

Sliding closer, she brushed your fingers through your hair, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

“Babydoll,” she murmured. “Wake up, love.”

you gasped awake, eyes darting wildly until they landed on her.

She didn’t say anything. Just held you.

Your arms wrapped around you tight—desperate, grounding—and for a while, you both  just stayed like that.

Then, small movement.

You looked up.

Isha stood in the doorway, blanket clutched in her hands, staring with wide, uncertain eyes.

Jinx let out a breath, forcing a smirk. “Hey, shortstack. Couldn’t sleep either, huh?”

Isha hesitated, then shook her head.

You lifted the blanket, silently inviting her in.

For a moment, she stayed frozen. Then, carefully, she climbed onto the bed, curling up between you both.

Jinx snorted. “Well, well. Looks like we’re officially outnumbered.”

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to Isha’s hair.

And for the first time in forever, you slept through the night, peacefully.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

It started with a rainy day.

Zaun’s skies were always grim, but today, the rain came in heavy, flooding the alleyways and making the apartment feel even smaller.

Isha sat by the window, watching raindrops race down the glass. Her little fingers traced them, following each droplet with quiet concentration.

Jinx groaned dramatically, sprawled upside down on the couch, legs hanging over the backrest. “I’m bored.”

You smirked, looking up from your book. “And whose fault is that?”

“Yours,” she shot back immediately, flipping onto her stomach. “Entertain me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not my job.”

Jinx gasped, hand over her heart. “Wow. Rude.” Then, she perked up, eyes gleaming. “Wait. I got it.”

She jumped to her feet, startling Isha, who turned and blinked.

“Pillow fort.” Jinx grinned, pointing dramatically at you. “Right now.”

You raised a brow. “Aren’t we a little old for—”

Jinx was already tearing cushions off the couch.

Isha watched her with wide, curious eyes.

Jinx caught her staring and grinned. “Whaddya think, shortstack? Wanna help?”

Isha hesitated. Then, slowly, she nodded.

Jinx let out a victorious whoop! and tossed a blanket over her head. “Welcome to the chaos, kid!”

You couldn’t help but smile.

Within half an hour, the living room was transformed.

Blankets draped over chairs, cushions stacked like castle walls, fairy lights strung across the ceiling. It was warm, cozy, perfect.

Isha crawled inside, eyes wide as she ran her hands over the soft fabric.

Jinx flopped down beside her, arms behind her head. “Not bad, huh?”

You sat across from them, watching as Isha slowly, carefully, curled up between you both.

For the first time all day, she relaxed.

Jinx smirked, nudging you playfully. “See? Told you it was a good idea.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Alright, fine. You win.”

Jinx puffed out her chest. “Damn right I do.”

Isha watched your banter, something soft in her expression. Then—carefully, hesitantly—she reached out and took your hand.

Your breath caught.

She turned to Jinx, then did the same.

Jinx’s eyes widened.

Neither of you spoke.

You just squeezed her tiny hands, warmth blooming in your chest as the rain pattered softly outside.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

It started with Jinx.

Because of course it did.

She thought it would be hilarious to put blue dye in your shampoo.

You stepped out of the bathroom, dripping wet, staring at her with murderous intent.

Jinx, sprawled on the couch with Isha in her lap, burst into laughter.

“Oh—oh my god—babe, you look—” She was wheezing, wiping tears from her eyes. “I—I’m sorry, I can’t—”

Isha, sitting innocently beside her, covered her mouth, eyes shining with amusement.

You crossed your arms. “You think this is funny?”

Jinx gasped for breath. “Babe, c’mon, you’re literally blue!”

Isha let out a small, breathy giggle.

You smirked.

“Alright, Powder,” you said sweetly. “Game on.”

Jinx’s laughter stopped.

“…Wait.”

By the end of the week, it was war.

You switched Jinx’s sugar with salt.

She short-sheeted the bed.

You put hot sauce in her morning coffee.

She filled your boots with glitter.

Isha, watching the chaos unfold, was delighted.

And then—

The prank truce.

Because somehow, somehow, Isha got caught in the middle.

Jinx had set up an elaborate bucket trap for you, but you weren’t the one who walked through the door.

Isha did.

The bucket tipped.

Flour everywhere.

A long, long silence followed.

Jinx paled. “Oh. Shit.”

Isha, completely dusted in white, blinked.

You braced for tears.

But instead—

She grinned.

Then, the softest, most mischievous giggle bubbled out of her.

Jinx gasped. “Babe.”

You were already smirking. “She’s one of us.”

Jinx wiped a fake tear from her eye. “I’m so proud.”

And just like that, Isha became the ultimate prank war champion.

You had created a monster.

And honestly?

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

Your life finally feels complete again.

For weeks you felt alone and scared. 

Scared that you failed Jinx.

You saw Jinx actual feel like she has a purpose again.

But then—

when you both were finally settling in your guy’s new life.

she was gone.

But now—

you guys have Isha

finally feel full again.

but good things don’t always last forever.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

It happened too fast.

One second, you were all together—fighting, running, surviving.

The next—

Isha was holding a gun.

Your breath caught in your throat, legs moving before your brain could catch up.

Jinx screamed.

“Isha!”

Jinx lunged.

She almost made it.

Almost.

Isha’s eyes met yours—And then—

She was gone.

Falling.

Falling.

Falling.

And then—nothing.

Silence.

it wasn’t fair.

Not again.

Not her.

Not your baby.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

Everything burned.

Piltover was drowning in smoke, fire licking at the streets, sirens screaming in the distance. The air was thick with dust and blood, and the world felt like it was cracking apart.

And maybe it was.

Maybe you were.

Jinx stood beside you, gun smoking, eyes wild. Her fingers twitched on Fishbones, but her grip was steady. It always was in a fight.

She turned to you, breath ragged, face smeared with dirt and sweat.

“Once we’re out,” she rasped, voice raw from screaming, “we’ll get the life we always wanted.”

You swallowed, gripping your own weapon, heart pounding against your ribs.

“Jinx—”

“I mean it.” She reached for you, gripping your wrist like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. “No more running. No more fighting. Just us, babe. We’ll leave. Start fresh. We’ll have—”

She choked on the words.

But you knew.

She meant Isha.

She meant family.

She meant the life that was stolen from you both.

Your throat tightened. “Jinx…”

“I swear.” Her eyes burned, desperate, pleading. “Just hold on a little longer. Please.”

You exhaled shakily.

Then—slowly—you nodded.

Jinx let out a breath, pressing her forehead to yours.

For a moment, just one, the war didn’t exist.

It was just you and her.

Like it used to be.

Like it could be again.

If you survived.

If you made it out.

Jinx pulled back, smirking despite the blood on her lip. “C’mon, babe.” She lifted Fishbones. “Let’s finish this.”

And so, you did.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

The war ended in fire.

You made it out.

Barely.

With nothing but your weapons, the clothes on your backs, and the weight of ghosts in your hearts—

you both flew away.

Flew away from the wreckage. From the war. From everything.

And when you stopped running—

You were in Bilgewater.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

The first thing you noticed was the salt.

Bilgewater smelled like the sea—like salt and spice and damp wood. The docks groaned under the weight of ships, traders shouting over each other as people bustled past.

It was chaotic. Loud. Messy.

It was perfect.

Jinx stretched, arms high above her head, letting out a long, satisfied sigh.

“Smells like fish and crime,” she said, grinning. “I love it.”

You snorted. “You would.”

She turned to you, nudging your side. “You sure about this, babe? New place, new start—no more blowing stuff up for fun. You ready for that?”

You exhaled, looking out at the ocean.

The wind was soft here. The sun actually touched your skin instead of hiding behind smog.

You turned back to Jinx, taking her hand in yours.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “I’m ready.”

Jinx’s grin softened.

She squeezed your hand.

“Then let’s go home.”

It wasn’t much.

Just a small shack near the docks—rickety, barely standing, but yours.

Jinx spent weeks fixing it up, scrounging for parts, muttering about “engineering genius” and “making this place badass.”

You just watched her work, heart full for the first time in what felt like forever.

Because she was happy.

You both were.

No more war. No more running.

Just waking up with Jinx tangled around you, her hair messy, her breath warm against your neck.

Just late nights on the rooftop, watching the waves, talking about nothing and everything.

Just peace.

And one day, as Jinx lay beside you, fingers lazily tracing patterns on your arm, she whispered—

“We made it.”

You turned to her, brushing blue strands from her face.

“We did.”

She smiled, soft and real, and for the first time in a long time—

There were no ghosts.

No war.

No grief.

Just you and her.

And the life you always wanted.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

Bilgewater had been home for a couple months now.

The war was a distant memory, just a story told in whispers between you and Jinx when the nights stretched too long and the past felt too close.

Life had settled.

Jinx still tinkered, still got into trouble, still stole things just because she could. But she was happy. She laughed more, slept easier, held you like she was afraid you’d slip away in the night.

And you?

For the first time in your life, you were at peace.

But something was missing.

Something you and Jinx didn’t talk about out loud—not for months, not after what happened.

Then one night, as you both lay tangled on the couch, a storm raging outside, Jinx spoke—soft, hesitant.

“…Do you ever think about it?”

You didn’t have to ask what she meant.

You turned to her, fingers brushing absentmindedly through her blue strands. “Every day.”

Jinx swallowed.

She sat up, looking at you—really looking—and her voice was barely a whisper when she said—

“What if we tried again?”

Your breath caught.

Jinx rushed ahead before you could answer.

“Not—not to replace her,” she stammered. “Never that. Just… I dunno. We had a good thing. A great thing. And I think we could—” She exhaled sharply, eyes darting away. “Forget it. Dumb idea.”

You caught her chin gently, making her meet your gaze.

“It’s not dumb,” you said. “It’s perfect.”

Jinx blinked.

Then—slowly—her lips curled into a small, hopeful grin.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

BONUS!!!!!

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

It took time.

But one day, finally, you held her.

Tiny. Fragile. A weight so light it barely felt real in your arms.

You stared down at the baby, throat tight, heart pounding in a way you hadn’t felt in years.

Jinx hovered beside you, practically vibrating.

“D’you think she’s defective?” she muttered.

You snorted. “Jinx.”

“She hasn’t said anything.”

“She was literally just born.”

Jinx huffed, poking the baby’s cheek. “Still. I expected more personality.”

The baby let out a soft, sleepy sigh.

Jinx melted.

“…Okay, that was kinda cute.”

You shook your head, smiling. Then, quietly, you whispered—

“Isha.”

Jinx froze.

The boat went silent, save for the distant sound of the waves against the docks.

You looked up, meeting Jinx’s eyes.

Her breath hitched.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then—slowly—Jinx exhaled, her lips curling into something small, soft.

She reached out, tracing a gentle finger over the baby’s tiny fist.

“Isha,” she repeated, voice barely above a whisper.

Like it was something sacred.

You nodded, eyes stinging.

“She deserves to be remembered…both kids need to be remembered”

Jinx swallowed, blinking rapidly.

Then, suddenly, she grinned.

“Well,” she said, nudging your shoulder. “Let’s just hope this one doesn’t start a prank war.”

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to Isha’s tiny forehead.

“No promises.”

Jinx smirked.

Then she leaned in, brushing her lips against yours, whispering—

“We made it.”

You smiled.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “We did.”

And as Isha let out a tiny yawn, curling into your chest, the past finally let go.

The war was over.

The ghosts were gone.

And the life you always wanted?

It was here.

It was real.

And it was yours.

I love making angst and fluff stories!! They are so fun to craft!!

I want sleep.

[tsukimefuku]

the event (1) ❖ nanami kento

this part → part 2 (soon) | mdni! | the nile is a river in egypt 👍

summary: after struggling for so long with the feelings you had for nanami, your colleague and closest friend, you finally decide to put an end to your misery and confess to him. little did you know there was no misery left for you to wallow in that night — none at all. alternatively: nanami was a gentleman, but holy hell, given the context, there weren't many ways he could misunderstand the phrase "I want you".

tags: jujutsu kaisen, sorcerer!f!reader, colleagues in the field, 18+, alcohol, explicit! smut (oral f!receiving, piv, squirting), 1/3 plot 2/3 filth ratio, it’s romance guys, nanami x reader, reader is emotionally stunted, they're clearly in love, angst, fluff, hurt and comfort, basically a book chapter, no beta my inner demons proofread this.

wc: 8k

notes, etc.: if i have to rewrite this one more time i will commit a felony. inspo → just like you do (carly simon) and sonnet (the verve). saved by smooth operator (sade). the bit "love is something brave people do" is inspired by fleabag's last episode. appetizers for this fic are the shorties “would you let me die?” and “where does your mind drift”.

❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist

this is big but very worth it, i promise.

Today, you were determined to finally utter those three words and put an end to your own personal brand of misery. 

Ever since you and Nanami kind of discussed if getting involved would be a bad idea — he said it would, but you had your doubts — you just couldn't stop thinking about it. He knew you had feelings for him. Maybe. He mentioned that he believed you thought about him. 

But the thing was… nothing was actually said. It was all implied. Implied into oblivion.

You two had been working together for a good while now, and you didn't fail to notice that, in the most recent encounters you've had, be it on missions or just having a drink at your favorite bar, your heart would involuntarily throb whenever you gazed at him for too long. 

Not only that, but you were finally able to admit to yourself that your gratitude towards the sorcerer, who saved your life years ago, had become love. You were, without a shred of a doubt, in love with him, and the fact that he clearly stated that getting involved would be ill-advised — his words, not yours — was a special type of torture.

So be it — you were confessing your feelings for him today, at least to have a definitive answer. It would be better to get shot down than keep doing this little tip-toe dance around the unsaid. You just couldn't do this anymore.

Thing was… You were terrible with feelings. And words. And putting feelings into words. And also just feeling your feelings, in general.

So you decided to invite him to a bar — like you always did —, and chat the night away — again, like you always did — to try easing yourself into this conversation in a comfortable, known setting. Your drinks were downed until the middle of the night like you were filling up a Jeep tank, trying to fuel yourself with liquor-bought courage. 

Eventually you slowed down, because certainly throwing up would be less than ideal. Better to be sober and chicken out than drunk and vomiting.

You were so in your own head, though, that you failed to realize Nanami was accompanying you in the "getting completely hammered" department until about a few hours prior, partially regaining his sobriety, with a lot of things swirling around in his own mind.

Mostly, he still thought about the non-conversation you both had about thinking of each other. More specifically, the fact that you inquired, right at the end, if it would really be such a bad idea.

Would it? 

Could he dare to dream of a life beyond killing curses and hoping not to die every time he stepped his foot into a mission?

He wasn't sure about it anymore, and could feel his usual negative stance about getting romantically involved with someone while still being a jujutsu sorcerer wavering — an absolute first for him. He was hardly someone to be swayed on his stances in life.

But this time, just maybe, you were able to do that without even realizing.

He caught himself gazing at you more frequently than usual, and wondering what would be the texture of your flower-scented hair tangled in between his fingers.

Today, your hair smelled like jasmine flowers.

Unlike you, however, Nanami was unsure if he'd touch upon the subject that night, specifically, in case he ever decided to do so. He’d prefer to talk about it in an appropriate setting — dinner at a restaurant, maybe? No, you weren't someone who'd like that. Perhaps at a picnic, she does enjoy nature...

He tried shaking those thoughts away along with his feelings, but it didn’t work.

The conversation was very pleasant, and you two were reminiscing about his mission at your hometown where you both met years ago. 

”Do you remember when I tried cooking breakfast? Oh, that was a good one,” you jested, chuckling. 

Nanami nodded, resting the edge of his whiskey cup on his bottom lip. 

“I’d say that was a terrible one. You nearly set your entire kitchen on fire trying to fry eggs,” he noted, letting a smile take over his lips.

You laughed in response.

”Yeah, you’re probably right. But at least you rescued me and made one of the best tamagoyaki I’ve ever eaten.”

He put his glass down on the counter, looking at you with those adoring, beautiful, brown honeyed eyes.

"One of?"

You chuckled, trying not to stare too much.

Good God, he's looking gorgeous tonight.

“Oh, come on. According to you, I can barely taste my food the way I eat, mixing everything up in my plate,” you joked, “I don’t have the same particular taste buds of yours.”

Nanami sighed, rolling his eyes at your teasing, taking a sip of his whiskey.

The ice had melted a little, and he felt the watery coat on the drink with displeasure, grimacing a little.

Somehow, Nanami failed to see the irony in that.

You noticed, and laughed a little before continuing.

"The other amazing tamagoyaki I had was when you rescued me from starving during my first week here. But I don't think I'd really regret burning Jujutsu High down, even if it was an accident."

Nanami shook his head lightly, the smile still on his face betraying his half-hearted chide.

Then, after the banter evaporated in the air, that moment finally came.

The absolute silence.

Arguably the perfect opportunity to say these types of things… So you began.

"Nanami, I…" words gagged. "I wanted to tell you something."

His body visibly tensed up a little, but he probably didn't realize it.

He knew, of course.

Nanami noticed all the recent instances you'd stare at him, and ever since pulling you in for a not-so innocent hug when you were both stranded on the road after a mission together, he felt dangerously close to crossing this boundary. 

Nanami's words were easily controlled, always so neatly put together with mathematical precision to express his thoughts. However, ever since he crossed the line of physical contact beyond pure platonic affection, it had been difficult keeping his hands to himself. 

Right now, he wanted to cup your face with his palms and brush his thumbs against your cheeks.

Perhaps even press his lips against you- stop that, you’re not a teenager anymore.

This comfort zone of avoiding the discussion about the feelings you both had for each other was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. 

"What?"

You gulped, and took a few more sips of beer.

"I…"

Your voice got stuck in your throat.

Your syllable had stretched long enough for this to have become a little awkward.

"I wanted to thank you," you blurted out, more for your benefit than his.

Nanami was equal parts relieved, disappointed, and surprised.

Did he actually want you to tell him you had feelings for him?

"Thanks for welcoming me to Jujutsu High, for shepherding me all this time, and for being a reliable, good friend. I was ready to face hell here, but it was… much better than I had anticipated. So, thank you, Nanami."

He looked at you, and both held each other's gaze for a moment. His hazel brown eyes were always something that lured you in, and you surely enjoyed how he'd always remove his green shades to talk to you.

Seeing them felt strangely — and endearingly — intimate.

"You're welcome," he offered in a kind note.

"Last call!" the bartender stated loudly, as you and Nanami looked at each other, feeling somewhat disappointed that the night was about to be over.

Stepping outside after paying, you both realized it was raining — something neither had noticed from inside the bar.

With half a mind to do something, definitely inebriated, and still with a declaration stuck in your throat, you absentmindedly made a question to Nanami.

"Can I wait the rain out at your place?"

He did live close by, in any case.

For a second, you realized you were probably butting in his rest hours, and felt a little embarrassed.

"Yes," he replied immediately, also absentmindedly, before you could retreat your request.

***

It was actually the first time you ever visited his apartment, and it was interesting to see his place. To no one's surprise, Nanami's pristine apartment, with his collections of books and CD's — he still had an actual stereo CD player — felt as every bit put together as Nanami himself did.

His kitchen drawers alone were surely more organized than your income tax return.

You sat on the counter and had your drenched hair haphazardly covered with a blue towel as Nanami fixed something to eat for the both of you.

The smell of cooked rice and eggs filled the air, hugging your senses, as you watched, still halfway drunk, how he skillfully walked back and forth, being somewhat inebriated himself, making way more than instant noodles, your first choice after proposing you both ate something to ease the alcohol out.

You stared at his back while he cooked, trying to push the thought of telling him how you felt to the back of your mind, at least for a while, just so you could enjoy the following moments without the sensation of impending doom.

As he finished plating the food, you were nothing short of impressed — the man mustered up the skill to cook omurice while inebriated, a feat you couldn't do sober even in one of your best days. 

"This is incredible, you're such a badass," you remarked as Nanami gave you a plate with a pair of chopsticks.

"It's a simple recipe," he replied, getting his own and taking a bite out of it as he leaned against the sink counter, facing you.

"Oh, it surely is,” you remarked, ironically.

You were getting ready to eat as Nanami interrupted you.

"Don't desecrate it," he chided, referencing the way you'd usually stir up your food on your plate until it became an unidentifiable goo before eating, "try to taste your food at least this once."

You chuckled a little, acquiescing.

"Okay. This is too beautiful to get vandalized, anyway."

Nanami huffed, the faintest ghost of a smile on his lips, before he took another bite.

"I am so going to regret this entire thing tomorrow," you stated, taking the first piece out of your plate, “I drank like a sailor.” 

It was absolutely delicious, of course. It was Nanami's food, after all.

He swallowed before proceeding.

"Me too, most likely. I hadn't drunk this heavily since… ever."

"Hah, me neither."

You both resumed eating peacefully, partaking in a comfortable and cozy silence for the next few minutes. During that time, he looked at you without you noticing, and realized just how much he wanted this small sliver of peace — sharing a good meal with you in his kitchen after a remarkably pleasant night — to keep going for eternity. 

You were looking so adorable with his blue towel over your drenched hair.

As you were finished, he took both plates and put them inside the sink, going back to his original position. Nanami had already removed his tie, his weapon holster and opened the top of his blue buttoned shirt by this point, both of his sleeves rolled up for him to cook.

It was becoming increasingly hard not to stare.

"Thank you, Nanami," you said, smiling at him.

"It's no trouble," he answered, softly smiling back at you.

His smile was much sweeter than usual, and it sent your heart throbbing against your chest.

The urge came again, to finally tell him.

However, when you actually spoke, something entirely unexpected came out of your mouth.

"Why did you come back to Jujutsu High after years of working a regular job?"

Nanami was surprised, to say the least, and pondered for a while before resuming his answer.

He had left the jujutsu world shortly after the mission where he met you and ‘failed you’ — that last part solely according to him — so, needless to say, this was a sensitive topic. 

"Well, I had known the jujutsu world, and after entering the corporate one, I realized both were idiotic. So-"

"No, not that speech," you interjected, "I want to know exactly what happened for you to come back. I mean, when we ran into each other years ago, you seemed pretty resolute in trying your retired-by-40 and moving to Malaysia plan, and from what I gathered, not long after that, you just came back, out of nowhere."

Nanami was silent, because he remembered vividly what had transpired, and that you had something to do with it.

"Well," he began, "a few days after we had that conversation, I went into a bakery to buy breakfast. It was always the same person at the cash register, and she had a small fly head curse on her shoulders for a while. It began affecting her sleep, given her complaints. I had avoided doing something about it, but our conversation kept ringing in my head."

Nanami averted his gaze, as if remembering the moment in its details before proceeding.

"After I exorcised it, her shoulder pain subsided, and she thanked me. That was it."

You remembered well how you chided him, telling Nanami to go back into sorcery because the world of jujutsu needed people who truly cared, such as himself. You just didn’t think it would have such a direct connection to the reasons he came back.

"So... you realized the importance of the job we do?" you inquired, with a half-smile pulled on your cheek.

He sighed. "Something like that."

"Oh, Mr. Nanami 'I'm just doing my job' Kento... you have finally understood that meaning is something relevant to you, it seems," you remarked, light-spirited.

He smiled, looking the other way, somewhat appreciating the fact that he had just been read like a book by you.

"But... don't say I had something to do with you coming back," you stated, "I might feel responsible if something happens to you."

Even as a joke, this snapped at your heart a little. The mere thought of losing him felt terrifying.

Nanami sighed, smile vanishing, looking back at you. 

"You always see things from a perspective of assigning responsibility and guilt... It is a perspective that usually warrants unnecessary suffering."

You scoffed, still wearing your mid-smirk on your face.

"Oh, and looking at everything from a protective perspective is any different? I mean, both boil down to us thinking we're responsible for other people's fates."

He was slightly taken aback, before smiling discreetly and crossing his arms in front of his chest. 

"I guess you're right."

Nanami looked at you, and seemed to be staring at your cheek. Under the dim light from the stove hood, you could make out the contours of his face — his sharp jaw, his chiseled cheekbones, and his now exposed forearms with taut, sculpted muscles, right under the rolled up sleeves of his blue shirt. 

If pupil dilation could be felt, you would have definitely felt it at that moment.

The urge came up again, but by this point, you were already feeling defeated enough at your pathetic inability of confessing your feelings, so you just let your mouth roll with whatever came out of it.

"I really admire you, Nanami."

You surprised even yourself.

His eyes then met yours.

"Do you?"

Pondering on your words, you nodded, thinking a little about it.

"You're such a calm, collected and responsible person. You seem to always know exactly what you're doing, meanwhile I'm usually just guessing around. No wonder Ino and Yuuji look up to you."

Even under the soft lighting, you could swear you saw Nanami's face blush a little.

"Thank you," he stated, bowing his head slightly towards your direction.

You smiled at him and sighed right after.

"Most times, I don't think I'm someone people would call admirable or actually look up to."

This was something you hadn't anticipated you'd say. You had never told that to anyone.

But, well, this was him. This was Nanami.

"Why do you say that?" he inquired in earnest.

"Because... Because I'm often hanging by a thread, just trying to survive. I'm not doing great things. I'm barely existing, sometimes."

He mulled his thoughts over for a second before answering you.

"You have a good capacity for adapting, taking whatever life hands you and doing the best you can with it," he noted, "and you keep going even if you feel like you're guessing. Even when you don't know where you're going. That takes bravery, and I find it to be admirable."

Now you were the one surprised, and you could feel your entire face burning the moment he finished uttering those words. You were never one to take compliments easily, but this was a whole other level.

You stood there, mouth slightly agape, faltering without any words.

His eyes had returned to your cheek, and in a swift movement, you heard him say excuse me as he stepped into your direction, rubbing his thumb on it to take off some food you hadn't realized that was still stuck on your face.

Nanami barely registered that the thoughts looping around his mind the entire night about touching you had finally taken the best of him.

Before he could remove his hand, though, you held it in place, lifting your eyes to meet him.

His palm felt warm against your skin, his digits rough, and perfect. Just like he was.

Nanami's expression was unreadable as he gazed back at you, and you began hearing your heartbeats against your ears, muffling the sound of the tapping rain on the window.

Words failed him too, and he was guided by his body once again.

Nanami lowered his face and softly pressed his lips over yours, still tasting like whiskey and Demi-glace, which sent waves — that you couldn't quite discern if were hot or cold, perhaps both — all throughout your body.

It was a quick kiss, though, because shortly after, Nanami backed out, still with his eyes closed, and had something resembling a frown on his face.

"I apologize, that was inappropriate," he mumbled, beginning to pull his hand out from your cheek. You, however, held it in place, and that got him to open his eyes and look at you.

He seemed taken by trepidation under his usual collected demeanor, and his lower lip had the slightest twitch to it as his eyes flickered quickly between your mouth and your eyes.

For a moment, you felt like you were looking into the eyes of the Nanami you once knew — the bangs, the uniform, the seventeen-year-old version of him.

Little did you know that your corresponding younger version was looking right back at him with the same bated breath, just like the teens-becoming-adults in the most traumatic ways you two once were.

"Stop apologizing and kiss me," you pleaded, edging your face closer to his, pulling his towel off your head.

You could feel his breath exhaling against your skin, as Nanami approached his body to yours, putting himself in between your knees, and cupped your face in his hands. His body was incredibly warm, just like his hand, and his woody, musky scent sent your senses spiraling when he finally descended his lips to yours, determined on taking his time — after all, this was a kiss ten years in the making.

His mouth felt velvety and supple, and you both melted into each other while exploring the way his head tilted against yours, how your nails would eventually find their way up the nape of his neck, how your breath would hitch every time he pressed his mouth against yours more intently. Your lips slid wetly over each other with a newfound ease none of you expected.

You were both dipping your toes in the ocean and testing the temperature before committing to dive into deeper waters, taking all the time into familiarizing with the feeling of each other's bodies.

Nanami's hands descended to your waist, leaving a trail of heat on the way, and you let out a soft moan into his mouth when he pressed them against you. He groaned lowly, a sound reverberating from the depths of his chest, as he parted his lips from yours and put some distance in between your faces with his eyes closed.

You didn't understand, but before you could ask anything, he began speaking.

"I don't mean to assume," he stated, letting his forehead rest on yours.

"Hm... What do you mean?"

"I... What I mean is we can stop, in case you don’t..​. We're both still somewhat under the influence. You are," Nanami replied, opening his eyes to look into yours. The faltering restraint dwelling in them was palpable. 

In the back of your mind, you wondered if there was any way of loving him more than you already did. Even now, he was so mindful and careful with you.

"I want this," you replied, resolute, "I want you. I've wanted it all for a very long time. It's not a drunken decision, I mean it."

His gaze softened in a way you had never seen before, one of his hands ascending to brush his thumb over your cheek. Nanami snuggled his nose against yours and sighed, seemingly fluttering.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm sure. I want you," you repeated, incisively.

He let out a huff of air against your mouth, and you could smell his breath, mingled with the scent emanating from him and his clothes. Intoxicating wasn't a strong enough word — you were completely enthralled, entranced and overwhelmed by him. Every sound got muted, but the sound of his breathing. Every smell disappeared, but his. And there was no other temperature in the room other than the warmth of his body.

You had entered tunnel vision mode, and at the end of it, he was your light.

Closing the remaining inches that separated the both of you, he brushed his lips against yours, whispering, "then have me. Have all of me."

Still cupping the side of your face, Nanami tilted it, finally fitting your lips against his again, like lovely little puzzle pieces getting more and more accustomed to each other by the second. He felt around your contours, pressing the tip of his tongue softly over the seam of your mouth, and you warmly welcomed him in, his true taste lingering just under the drinks and sauces being enough to knock the air out of your lungs.

He was salty, fresh, and a breeze of cool air by the seashore.

There were a few times you wondered what he'd be like, but your fantasies were quick to pale in comparison to the reality of him.

Nanami’s broken restraint was completely done for, and just this once, he wanted to let it come tumbling down like a house of cards, as he parted to gaze at your disheveled hair, your flustered face, your slightly puffy lips.

His chest swelled full and content at that sight.

He met you once again, and the ruffling from the fall was sounding better than he could have ever hoped for, insistent heart beat pushing against his ears, encompassing your breathless kissing like a sonnet.

Nanami's hands, however, didn't dare explore beyond your waist, and all this intense make out session was starting to make your panties feel uncomfortable against your pooling arousal. You were starting to feel antsy, and your body was nearly twitching at the aching desire. You needed some kind of relief, or you'd go insane.

Nanami was a gentleman, but holy hell, given the context, there weren't many ways he could misunderstand the phrase I want you.

You put your hands over his and slip them down to cup your ass, parting from his lips for a moment.

"Stop keeping your hands to yourself. Touch me," you pleaded, with some type of simmering desperation to your voice that you hadn't yet heard — never, actually.

He looked at you, and seemed equally desperate in an unfathomable way. He pulled you in, kneading his fingers fiercely against your skin while moaning into your mouth, and pressed your bodies hard enough for you to feel him pulsating through multiple layers of fabric.

Oh, my.

You knew he was strong, but this was something else. 

Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his hips, and drew the tips of your fingernails down his back, while grinding over his growing erection with your clothed core. Nanami let out a muffled groan on your skin and began kissing your neck intently with messy, open-mouthed kisses.

He put his hands under your thighs and whispered in your ear, "hold on to me."

That caught your attention from your hazy brain.

"I... My hair is still wet. My clothes are a little damp, too. I'm kind of a mess right now," you told him, chuckling sheepishly.

This man's apartment was the most immaculate place you had ever been in your life, and the last thing you wanted to do was to dirty it around with dripping water from the rain. In his bed, of all places.

Nanami immediately pulled himself back and held your face, locking eyes with you.

"You are beautiful right now," he remarked, not giving you enough time for an answer, as he pressed another kiss on your lips — this time, more urgent, a little sloppy, but just as passionate, if not more. You gasped into his mouth, letting your body take control.

In an instant, your arms were draped over his shoulders, your legs tightened firmly around his body, and his strong hands held the back of your thighs, as Nanami lifted you from that counter like you weighed nothing.

You squeaked in surprise, and he uttered a soft, deep chuckle before planting a quick peck on your lips. 

After walking you both into his room, he calmly descended towards the mattress, laying you down delicately and climbing his way on top of you.

When he approached his face to yours, you smiled at him, and he smiled back, sharing a tender moment of silent closeness.

This was probably your favorite shared quietude yet.

“I should get out of these wet clothes,” you stated, giggling softly, before tugging your shirt over your head.

He huffed a soft smiling hum in return, as his palms found their way towards the sides of your hips. Their warmth clashed a stark contrast against your still dampened, cold skin, and his touch was electric, making you involuntarily sigh.

"Help me take these pants off," you cooed, relaxing your legs around his body.

Nanami didn’t need to be told twice, and swiftly slid his hands down to unzip you and pull your damp pants off while you unclasped your bra.

After he was done, his eyes lingered over the drenched patch on your underwear, a realization that definitely riled him up, as his breath got caught midway out his nostrils for a second.

Nanami’s fingers swirled around your bra straps, but before he removed it, you began unbuttoning his shirt, finishing off unclenching his belt and unzipping his pants.

"It would be unfair for me to be the only one exposed here," you remarked, light spirited, while smiling tenderly at him.

He smiled back very much the same way, and pulled his shirt off, downing his pants, letting it all become a wrinkled puddle on the floor. Nanami caged you in between his arms, and pressed a quick kiss on your lips, asking, "do you ever stop?"

"Why don't you try to find out?" you slyly replied.

Nanami wasn't usually one to appreciate being teased. This was especially true when it came to Gojo annoying the hell out of him, and he could — and would — also get annoyed at your snarky teasing from time to time.

But it felt different with you. He wasn't nearly as irritated as he would've been with anybody else.

Perhaps because you teased him with love.

Your hands pulled your bra off and tossed it aside, and for some seconds, he was speechless, contouring his eyes all over your body. With butterflies on his chest, he finally cupped your face in his hands again before kissing you once more, and you couldn’t help but notice he really liked holding you like that when he kissed you — and you'd let him, every time he wanted to.

It was lovely to be held so preciously under such an adoring touch.

Letting go of your lips, Nanami began planting kisses under your jaw, descending towards your neck, and nesting his face in between your breasts, inhaling your scent with his face laid over your skin. With your encouraging hand tangling in his hair, he began kissing and licking his way around, kneading on your breasts with his palms. Your hips instantly bucked up against him, at the same time you let out a needy moan.

He noticed it, very pleased, and gave you the tiny mercy of removing your panties.

Still with his mouth plastered on your skin, Nanami descended one hand towards your folds, and groaned the second his fingers touched over your wetness, cock twitching inside his underwear.

You were drenched.

He sounded so satisfied, you couldn’t help but blush a little in between your moans and mewls, wanting to brat out just a little.

“Hah-- I did say- a-ah… that I wanted you,” you half jested, trying to fend off your fleeting embarrassment, “w-what did you… hah-- expect?” 

He stopped briefly, and lifted his face to look at you, sighing with his classic I could be eye rolling at you right now expression.

You smiled mischievously, fully aware he noticed the teasing.

Nanami brushed his fingers above your clit softly, not breaking eye contact, and you thrust your hips up again, mewling mindlessly. Huffing, you tried saying something, but he pressed his fingers a little more intently, having your words turn into incoherent moaning tumbling down past your lips.

At that moment, you just knew…

You stood defeated.

“Finally, you relentless little devil,” he mumbled, kissing his way down your body, as you huffed a few chuckles in between your pleasured sounds.

If he was so hellbent on shutting down your antics like that, you’d probably try to keep them going all night long. Perhaps you could even break his composure completely.

The idea was enticing.

However, he was the one about to break you apart completely, as you realized when his wet, hot tongue got seared-flat against your clit, and stroked on your glistened folds with the ravenous dedication of a starving man.

Nanami was delighted to have finally shut down your quick-wit tease mouth completely, especially like this.

In the back of his mind, he realized he’d gladly do it every time you got on his nerves. 

Being a pretty tactile person, with heightened senses overall, Nanami was sure that tasting you would feel amazing, but this was otherworldly.

Completely enthralled, he began dipping his tongue inside you to drink you in, having your walls clenching immediately around it.

The sounds you made — your moaning and begging, as your thighs rubbed against his cheeks and fingers tugged on his hair — would be etched in his brain for eternity, he was sure of it.

The moment his hands pressed harder on your thighs, pulling them against his shoulders, and you let out a mixture of a squeal and a moan, something inside him snapped, sending his mouth into a feral quest against your cunt.

Groaning and panting into you, he lapped relentlessly on your folds, nuzzling your clit so intently it nearly sent you crawling over the walls. Your vision was white, starry, black, and then white again, and you wondered for a minute if this was all pleasure or if the light of the room was actually flickering. 

Mouth agape, your moans bounced off the walls, and your back arched desperately, while your entire body tightened with the tell-tale signs of an intense orgasm. Your toes were curling, your ears were ringing, and your face contorted in desperate need for release.

“D-don’t stop- don’t… Hah-- I-m… I-I… Hah---!“

Upon hearing your pleas, Nanami latched his lips on your clit and sucked on it so powerfully you didn’t get tipped over the edge, but was effectively thrown from it with no parachute or lifeline. 

Your entire body tensed and jolted. You came with a desperate cry, tightening your grip on his hair with bruising force. He let out a loud moan, trying to hold himself together as you fell apart on his mouth, and started to lick you softly to wean you off your high.

For a few seconds, your entire body stopped answering any voluntary movement signals from your brain, and you could’ve sworn you forgot your name.

You were sent to heaven and returned unscathed. 

Coming back to Earth, your grip on him loosened, and Nanami brought his mouth up to one of your thighs, pressing gentle kisses over it. 

When your vision wasn’t all abstract colors anymore, you looked down to see Nanami with hooded eyes, resting his chin over your mound, gazing at you like you were the most beautiful creature in existence.

Given what had just transpired, you found it to be incredibly absurd that this — him gazing at you — was what had you blushing violently.

But here you were, hiding your face under the back of your hand, as you chuckled sheepishly solely from the way he looked at you.

This beautiful, adoring man.

The urge to tell him how much you loved him came back, but even like this, so unclad and vulnerable, it was incredibly hard.

Nanami was barely blinking, wondering how he had allowed — or better, forced — himself to live without this, without you, for so long.

“I’m starting to feel embarrassed,” you said, equal parts joking and genuine, as you finally managed to meet his glance again. 

He blinked a few times, being pulled from his thoughts, whispering a half-hearted apology as he crawled his way back to you. 

His hair was a mess, his lips were rosy and puffy, and his eyes…

His eyes.

Trying to keep yourself from becoming a fluttering chaos all over again, you shook your head lightly as you resumed speaking.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” you cooed, sliding your fingers down his face, pressing your lips to his. Nanami pushed his tongue inside your mouth, and you moaned in response, tasting your essence mixed in with his own flavor.

God, you could kiss him and taste this for hours on end.

His mouth and tongue flowed and veered softly, with no rush other than to imprint your flavor in him. Nanami clearly was a kisser — a very good one —, and was delighted to keep exploring you like that for as long as you’d let him. 

Suddenly, you had a little wicked idea creeping up on you, as you made some effort to finally part your lips from his and uttered, “you know what, I’m sorry.”

Nanami was puzzled.

“What do you m-“

With your strength back, you locked your legs on the sides of Nanami’s waist and rolled his body over, landing on top of him. 

His breath was caught for a moment before he smiled at you. Smiling back, you straddled yourself back, diving your fingers on the edges of his boxers to slide them down.

Nanami helped you by raising his body, and the moment you removed the piece of clothing, his cock sprang out, bearing a flushed, bulbous, red tip that mutely slapped against his belly. It was bigger than you anticipated, thicker too, and you wondered if you could fit it all in your mouth.

Probably not.

You also didn’t fail to notice the very evident damp patch on his underwear from his pre-cum alone.

He must be desperate right now, you thought to yourself, enticingly amused.

However, the moment you were about to wrap your fingers around him and descend, Nanami held your hand and sat up. He seemed slightly… Embarrassed?

“Hm… what is it?” you asked, pressing against his hand.

He cleared his throat.

“I’m… very wound up. Could we…” Nanami mumbled, words dying on their way out. 

Truth was, ever since the moment you were grinding your clothed cunt against him, his mind was boiling to the thought of burying himself inside you to the hilt.

There was no sugar-coating it. 

“Oh…” you let out, “so… you want me too?” you asked, a hint of amusement to your voice.

You weren’t the only one needy tonight.

He sighed from the depths of his soul.

“Stop teasing.”

His voice came out raspy, more of a plea than an actual chide.

The man was crumbling down, and it was delightful to watch The Nanami Kento, always so unflappable, falling apart like this.

You chuckled and planted a quick kiss on his lips.

“I’m sorry,” you offered in earnest.

He exhaled gently, gaze towards you softening as he did.

You blushed a little before proceeding.

“Where is the…”

“First drawer.”

Everything happened quickly. You snatched the condom from his nightstand and opened it. Nanami took it from your hands and slid it down his length. A soft sigh escaped his lips as the rubber snapped at the end.

Softly crawling your way towards him, you put both hands on his shoulders to straddle on his lap. Nanami locked his gaze on you, not breaking eye contact even for a second, right up until you both finally kissed again.

His hands began making their way down your back, and then…

You felt it.

The tip of Nanami’s fingers pressed against the scar you had right over your spine, and you gasped in pain as it hit the bundle of tangled nerves bumping over your skin. You instantly backed your face away with an aching grimace.

Nanami had witnessed how you got that scar in the fateful mission in which you two met years ago.

The sound of the blade piercing through your skin and flesh still lingered on in his nightmares.

His hand retreated so quickly you barely felt it leaving your body.

Following the aftershock, you opened your eyes to see him with his own eyes sealed shut, and Nanami appeared to be crawling his way back into his mind. His expression, usually so calm and collected, was replaced by a pained frown of his brows.

“I apologize, I… I’m…” he muttered, and you realized this wasn’t an apology for what just happened.

He still blamed himself for what had taken place then.

It broke your heart to shambles to see him like that, knowing full well nothing that transpired that night was his fault.

You cupped his jaw in your palms, and pressed your forehead to his.

"Hey, stop it. Stop apologizing, you haven't failed me. You never failed me."

Nanami's eyes were still very much sealed, and he seemed to be pulling even further away from you as the memories swirled around in his mind.

"Please, look at me," you pleaded, nuzzling against his face.

After a sigh, he answered, "I… I can't."

And he truly couldn't, still feeling the shame eating away at his chest like a parasite.

You scrambled your mind after something that might help, and finally realized the only thing you could say to pull him back.

Shit.

You were still terrified, and your entire body tensed up.

This is it. Now. I have to tell him now.

According to Nanami, you were brave.

And love, apparently, is something brave people do.

Still cupping his jaw, you sighed before letting the words come out of your mouth.

"Nanami Kento, I love you."

Your voice didn’t falter or stutter. Your declaration smoothly left your lips as naturally as breathing — the same way loving him came to you.

His breath caught halfway out, and he finally opened his eyes, soft and bare, gazing into yours.

"I love you, I have loved you for so long, I…" you repeated, sighing greatly, "I love you."

Nanami opened his mouth, but for a second, nothing — not even a huff of air — would pass. Knotting away in his throat, the words also struggled to form.

Should he? Could he? How deep in trouble would this launch the both of you?

Surpassing his worries, eventually, the words finally came out.

"I love you too."

The guilt and trauma had taken a backseat in his mind, at least for now.

When you heard Nanami’s words — heard him say that he loved you too —, your heart immediately began fluttering, and you could've sworn there was a ringing sound around the both of you.

There wasn't, though, just as much as the honeyed dewy warm rain that prickled over your entire skin was a manifestation of your love ridden excited imagination.

Smiling, you pulled him in for a kiss, and he intently pressed his lips against yours, no exploration left to be done — your tongues, by this point of the night, had met and familiarized themselves with every inch of each other's mouths, breaths, and moans.

Mindlessly, his hands plastered themselves back into your body, and brushed up from your hips, to your waist, over your back all the way to your shoulder blades.

Nanami brought you even closer, and kept kneading his hands against you, almost as if he was trying to touch your entirety all at once.

His fingertips ghosted softly around your scar accidentally again, and your breath hitched for a second. You pulled your mouth from his, just long enough to say, "lay me down."

Nanami understood it, and acquiesced. Swiftly, he supported you from your shoulders and hips, laying you down like a porcelain treasure, and caged you in with one hand to each side of your head.

You both took a few moments to admire each other.

Nanami was a tall and broad man, but from underneath, he seemed even more mountainous. His angular face, his wide shoulders and muscular arms, everything about him was just grand.

In a second, though, interrupting your gazing, his hand pulled a pillow from the top of the bed, and he gently lifted your head to put it underneath.

That was it.

In the end, you knew that his kindness, just as grand as he was, was what stole your heart.

Nanami slowly descended over you, and supported himself with his forearm to the side of your head, using his free hand to part the slightly sweaty hair on your forehead and press a fleeting, soft kiss in between your brows. Your heart skipped a beat, and his mouth came down pecking at your face in the most delicate fashion, until it rested on one of your cheeks.

You guided your hand down and positioned his tip towards your entrance, noticing Nanami shuddering with the sensation of your fingers clasping around him. His hand got down to the side of your hip, and Nanami let out a soft huff as he began to slowly push his length inside. He could feel himself gliding along your slick folds, and scrunched his eyes shut as the tip got past the resistance of your ring, eyelashes brushing over your skin with a feathery lingerance.

To say he was savoring this down to the last infinitesimal tactile sensation would be a gross understatement.

You dragged the tips of your fingers down the muscles of his abdomen, seeing how he deliciously flexed himself inside you, as you savored this in your own way too.

Sinking inch by inch, you could feel all the muscle stretches while his girth accommodated inside your walls, widening and filling you as he slipped in further. Your mouth opened in a muted moan, and with a hazy mind, you turned your face towards his, having the tip of his nose brushing over until your noses bumped against each other.

You captured his lips haphazardly, and Nanami stroked his tongue over your mouth, groaning the moment he bottomed out inside you.

You felt him almost kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock, and your mind was sent spiraling with the shivers that shot up from your lower abdomen to your entire body. It got you fluttering around his shaft, and Nanami's grip on your hip suddenly tightened, as a strained groan fell from his lips.​

It took you a second to realize exactly what was going on.

"I-I… need… a second,” he mustered up to say in a cracked, coarse voice. His length was throbbing strongly inside you, and his expression looked almost pained. You noticed his fist beside your head was strongly clenched around the bedsheet.

Nanami wasn't lying when he said he was very wound up.

You planted a small, loving peck over his cheek and drew your hands to the back of his head, gently brushing your thumbs against his hair until you felt Nanami’s body relaxing, and his pulse inside you evening out to something calmer. He eventually let go of the bedsheet and drew his hand closer, tangling his fingers in your hair.

In an easy, gradual pace, Nanami began dragging his length out from you, and did so completely, pushing back inside the same way, robbing you of a gasp the moment he bottomed out again. His hips began in a steady, calm rhythm, and from your mouth, came out what he could only say were the best sounds he had ever heard.

“Fuck-- y-you feel… so good…” you purred for him, sending pleasured shivers all over his body. You were both completely covered in sweat right now, and your bodies slapped against each other, sounds only covered by your begging whimpers.

However, as good as it was, you needed more. Greedily, you felt the increasing need of being completely taken apart, and this slow love making was not doing it for you.

“Harder…” you pleaded, and Nanami picked up the pace as soon as he heard you, thrusts becoming more intense. It was better, no doubt about it, but you still wanted more.

Your hungry desire had become something indescribable, and all you could do was mumble softly in between mewls, pleading him to go even harder.

Nanami was also feeling himself grow more and more intent on satisfying your pleas, and realized this might not be the best position to do so. 

He stopped for a second, and you muttered in complaint.

However, your disquiet was short-lived, as he propped himself up, manhandling your hips to accompany him and pulled one of your legs straight, letting your ankle rest on his shoulder, supporting your leg with his arm's length and hand cupping your ass. Your other leg kept hooked around him, and this shift sent his cock even deeper.

“Harder?” Nanami asked, almost as a dare, with his disheveled hair falling over his forehead, a few golden strands tangling with sweat. There was something remotely playful in his eyes, and it sent your heart pounding inside your chest to see him in a way you had never seen before.

Oh, how you coveted to freeze this moment in time.

In answer to his question, you nodded, half-lidded eyes and an anticipation smile, only to be surprised with a thumb making its way to your bottom lip, softly asking its way in.

You obliged, and put your lips around it, sucking on his thumb, basking in the view of this boulder of a man completely shuddering to the sight and sensation of that.

Nanami pulled his hand back, resting his digit over your clit.

“Hold on to something, darling” he warned, having a cheeky smile pulling on his face. 

In sweet anticipation, you pressed your hands against the wall on which the bed rested, and locked eyes with Nanami, just to see him admiring you for a moment before he made a complete mess out of you.

In a sharp motion, he thrust his cock into you so intensely his tip bumped fully against your cervix, trembling the bed on its foundations. Your head launched on the pillow, your mouth falling open to let out the loudest moan — if that sound even be called a moan — you had ever uttered in your entire life.

Not sparing you a moment to recover, he retreated and plunged again and again inside your cunt, sending wet plap sounds bouncing over the walls. Nanami began rutting into you, kissing you deeper and deeper with every thrust, and you were nearly yelling from the pleasurable pain with which he had you finally crumbling down.

“Fuck,” he let out, “is this-- hah- hard enough--?” Nanami asked half in jest, knowing full well he didn’t need an answer. The way your back began arching so deliciously as you yelled and mumbled incoherently was enough of a response.

Every time he’d thrust, your body would tense up, and your walls would suck him in. It was sending his mind into a wild spiral.

Nanami was mesmerized by your face, and had the faintest feeling that he might cum from it alone. You looked and sounded like you were having the most delicious, toe-curling, gut-wrenching, blissful-stupor inducing sex of your life.

And well, up until at that moment, you actually were.

Dear God, he could die right now, and he’d die the happiest man alive.

You were having shock waves of stupor-filled pleasure shooting through your body, and Nanami began circling his thumb over your throbbing, sensitive clit. Oh boy, did he have you seeing the entire Milky Way in a split second behind your eyelids. Your mind distantly registered the noise of dragging wood and your fingers starting to struggle reaching support behind your head.

Is the bed pushing away from the wall? Are we literally rocking the bed? Holy shit.

A heat you rarely felt began to burn like incandescent molten lava in your belly, and you looked at him wide eyed, holding out onto some kind of desperation.

Nanami barely registered that you were looking at him like that when he felt the warm spurts, getting his entire crotch completely greased. You squirted so intensely that for a second you felt like you actually fell unconscious, before coming back to the second wave — the continuum of earth-shattering, convulsing orgasms that always followed it.

He wasn’t ready to have you squirt all over his cock so fervently, letting out the most heavenly, luscious, indecent and pornographic sounds he had ever heard.

He could never be prepared for that.

The sheer scent alone sent shivers throughout his entire body. Your scent was completely smeared over him, slowly dripping down his thighs.

With your walls tightening around his cock, his own peak took him by surprise, as much as he had tried to hold it away. The most animalistic and ferocious groan came out of his mouth as thick strands of white cum filled up the condom. Nanami's entire body jerked, making it incredibly difficult to keep pumping himself into you without risking pulling out too much by mistake, so he just let the convulsing waves finish washing down his body before collapsing on the bed by your side.

You both took a moment to breathe, then two, then three, still panting like you had just run a marathon.

Hell, you were probably panting even harder than that.

"I'm… I’m s-sorry about… the mess," you apologized, huffing and puffing, face blushing as you rolled your eyes back, still recovering from the aftershock.

Nanami instantly turned your face to his, mouth agape and gaze locked onto your lips, as he, without uttering a word, thrust his tongue inside your mouth in an open-mouthed, wet, sloppy kiss. All while still panting heavily.

Pulling back, you smiled, asking, “nothing to apologize for?”

He huffed, smiling back at you, “nothing.” 

You both felt like you'd have the best night of sleep of your lives.

Nanami would not, however, as the thoughts he shoved away to the back of his mind earlier that night were about to take him into unwanted nightmares.

End notes:

I can’t reread this again. I just can’t. Hope I got all the typos out, lol. Old version of this fic is here. When I read it a few weeks ago, I came to the conclusion that I didn’t quite like it, so I decided to give it a go on rewriting it. Three rewrites later, here it is, hope you guys enjoyed it.

-

Tag list (for this fic + current AU tags):

@jadedjane @senseifupa @nikos-a-clown @fairy-corno @ldrcvlt

@magical-girl-b @montyrokz @hexrts-anatomy @g-kleran @otomesass

@redlikerozez @yammy-yammy-yama

[anothermansjeans]

Okay but have you seen the TikTok trend where they’re like ‘hey babysit my boyfriend real quick’ really fast as they set up the camera then leave? It is so funny I love it, hear me out.

This but with YouTuber reader and Spencer! Plz I think it would end up being hilarious

LOVE LOVE LOVE!! i saw one where this girl's bf immediately went into flamingo facts and it was so spencer coded... the inspo was there

cw: fluff, blobfish facts!

wc: 281 (she's a shorty)

youtuber!reader masterlist

++

“Hey, lovelies, could you watch my boyfriend for me? I need to walk our fish.”

Spencer, unsuspecting and sitting at the kitchen island with a book in one hand and coffee cup in the other looked up at your words. “Walk our fish?” Unfortunately, you were already out of the room, and Spencer turned his head to your phone. “We don't even have a fish…”

He was going to look back at his book… but he felt awkward. “Hi,” he waved and gave a thin smile before nodding his head and looking side to side. He let out a sigh and put his book down, looking back at your phone. “Did you know that the psychrolutes marcidus, commonly referred to as the blobfish, had a head that makes up 40% of their body?” He took another sip of his coffee before stating another fact. “Blobfish also look 'normal’ below water, but at the surface, without the water pressure to hold their shape, they appear to melt and look like a puddle of what some would describe as ‘goo’.”

You were listening in from the other room as he continued to go about blobfish. You truly loved this man with your whole heart, and after another minute or two, you walked back into the room. “Okay, I’m back! Thanks for watching him!” You grabbed the phone and Spencer spoke from beside you.

“I wasn't done with my blobfish facts!”

Finally ending the video, you looked over at him with a smile and brushed his hair back. “Can you tell me? I love hearing what you have to say.”

He melted under your touch and immediately went into more facts. “Did you know…”

++

BONUS: some comments

@ user: YOU CAME BACK TOO SOON WE WERE GETTING INTO THE GOOD STUFF

@ user1: he's actually so adorable 😭

@ user2: you just get these facts FOR FREE?? luckyyyy

@ user3: i felt like he was babysitting us 😭

@ user4: he was so good!! we'd love to watch him again 🫶

++

youtuber!reader taglist: @im-a-ghost666 @lyd14k4y @happiestcat @hauntedtv13 @obi-wansgirl

let me know if you would like to be added or removed!

[vagabond-umlaut]

ramé

love.

a word everyone spells as l-o-v-e, except one certain young sorcerer – to whom it appears h-a-p-p-y, to whom it appears h-a-v-o-c – to whom it appears the shape of the letters of your name.

you, on the other hand, forget how to spell when the same word is before you – a fact which, your admirer reckons, would have been a major problem were he not he – that is, were he not the one and only 'gojo satoru'.

and thus begins, the plan.

and thus begins, the six steps to catch one's crush's eye — by the six eyes.

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

tags: set during gojo's past arc; childhood friends to lovers; pining-since-forever!gojo; oblivious-since-forever!you; tooth-rotting fluff; adorable banter; height difference; all your friends ship satoru & you; they all are very tired of you both as well; satoru & you-hashtag [not-canon-yet] relationship goals; angry protective gojo; hell lots of teasing; misunderstandings; arguments; angst with a VERY HAPPY ending

wc: 12k+ (i'm genuinely so proud of this, guys(gn) :D)

notes: decided to republish my most popular fic so far to celebrate my blog crossing 1000 followers! tysm for all the love and support u hv shown me, besties!!! <333 btw, jjk isn't mine. dividers by @/inklore. hope u enjoy reading this!

|1/6| overhaul your wardrobe.

a low whistle leaves gojo as he appraises himself in the mirror.

snow white hair neatly trimmed with short bangs, sunglasses from gucci giving a peek of his transfixing blue gaze, a fitting tom ford white shirt paired with black slacks and designer shoes, and, to top it all off, a perfume by bleu de chanel he bought especially for today...

there's no way in hell you won't find him attractive today.

with a smug smirk, the first-year swings the door to his dorm wide open, ready to astound the two waiting outside with his insanely good looks - and pauses, boisterous shout dying within his throat.

"'toru!!" you exclaim as you jump off the balustrade you were seated on and rush to him, a wide grin splitting your face into half. "surprise, i caught an earlier train!"

in spite of the shock, the boy feels his lips lift in a smile.

it's been nearly a year since the last time the two of you were face-to-face; you're still as beautiful as you were then.

"hey shortie," the words leave him in a whisper as you wrap your arms around him - only for a pained 'ouch!' to escape him a second later. massaging his side where you pinched him, the boy watches you step back with a scowl. (faux, of course.)

"call me that one more time and no one can save you from my wrath."

"wrath?" chuckling, gojo bends a bit to be your eye-level. you narrow your eyes at him. "you think that can scare me? the gojo satoru?"

"it sure can," folding your arms across your chest, you throw him a smirk in the next instant. "if it makes me share all the mochi i bought with ieiri senpai and geto senpai, and not give you the tiniest bit of it."

eyes widening behind glasses, a gasp escapes him. "you wouldn't!"

"i would," you answer, the same smirk as before still on your lips.

gojo backs off.

you're nothing if not awfully determined to make your promises see the light of the day. if he continues pestering you, the young sorcerer knows he'll actually not get a single morsel of those delicious sweets.

"you know what," a familiar voice cuts in through his thoughts and the boy twists to find his best friend walking towards him. sending him a discreet wink (which he deems is 100% suspicious), suguru reaches your side and continues, "satoru here was really excited about you coming to meet him."

"oh, is it so?" your smirk gives way to an angelic smile. gojo wishes it was directed at him instead of that long-haired bastard.

"yeah," said bastard meanwhile agrees with an overeager nod. "shoko and i too were really excited to meet the girl our friend is so infa-"

a tense silence befalls the corridor when suguru abruptly stops in the middle of the sentence. gojo swears if you weren't standing there, in front of them, he would have murdered his friend in cold blood today.

"infa-?" you prompt, smile dropping a little as your confused gaze darts from one to the other. gojo forces a chuckle out.

"it's nothing, don't you worry," he tries to draw your attention away, when shoko swoops in, like the savior she is (gojo decides to buy her one month's supply of cigarettes) and inquires, "hey, you haven't seen satoru in months, right? any change you find in him?"

that seems to be the trick. a curious glint shines in your eyes as they travel up and down his figure - appreciatively for sure, the boy says to himself. you too seem to have a liking for expensive things, after all.

after two seconds of close inspection, you turn to shoko with a bright smile. gojo's soul goes soaring at the sight in the clear skies above.

"nope! he's the same old 'toru i've always known."

gojo's soul crashes down upon the earth, splintering at the impact.

his two classmates give him a look before shoko asks again, a mild disbelief to her tone, "you really don't find anything new about him? like, maybe he has grown taller? or maybe, more handsome?"

"anything else which you never even expected, maybe?" suguru pipes in from beside him. gojo shoots him a grateful look, all past offenses already forgiven and forgotten.

a beat passes before you shake your head. "nope. nothing about him is new. though, when you speak about unexpected..." you trail off with a contemplative look.

shoko encourages you, "when we speak about unexpected-"

"i never expected you to be so pretty," you finish the sentence for her with a small smile. gojo's jaw drops to the ground. okay, what the fu-

"oh," shooting him an amused smirk, shoko faces you. "and why is it so? why did you not expect me to be so pretty?"

"it's not my fault," you reply, sending him an accusatory glance as you continue, "when i asked 'toru if his new classmates are good-looking, he said they aren't. he said you all look really plain."

"do you find me plain or handsome?" suguru butts in, ignoring the blue-eyed glare boring holes into the side of his head.

"you're plain," the short reply comes in an instant from you - and even in the midst of his gloom for going unnoticed, gojo finds it within himself to smirk at his best friend's withered face.

in the meantime, you continue speaking to shoko, unperturbed.

"yeah, so imagine my surprise when i met you at the torii gates earlier today. with such a stylish bobcut, cute face and flawless skin... i really thought you were a model, ieiri-senpai."

you pause for a second - undoubtedly to catch your breath from that non-stop chatter; gojo knows your habits like his own by now - then ask the girl who's watching you with a pleased expression, an excited grin threatening to bloom on your face, "are you a model, senpai?"

said senpai lets out a chuckle in response.

and despite feeling dispirited (and very, very jealous of that shoko for hogging all your attention), the white-haired boy cracks a fond smile, watching you be so cheery.

yeah, you certainly are one very dense dumbass.

but, he too is gojo satoru - and he will get his feelings across to you.

|2/6| display your strengths.

being a show-off is what gojo's the best at - besides yearning for you from afar, that is.

a wide grin stays on his face as he watches you approach him, a tad ahead of your classmates - two boys, nanami kento and haibara yu.

being in the first year, neither of you three can take part in the kyoto sister-school goodwill event - that doesn't stop you all from being spectators, though - which is what's enough for the gojo's plans.

a call of his name drags him away from gazing at you - you look good in that tee of his, you accidentally shrunk in the laundry - and twists back to find his teacher frowning at him.

the second-year finds it hard to wear the same grin. "yo yaga sensei, what's up?"

the man lets out a long-drawn sigh.

"don't overdo it, satoru," he says - the boy opens his mouth, ready to retort with a quip - only to be stopped by an unfamiliar expression overcoming the teacher's features.

it's a horrific insult of a smile, the young sorcerer realizes after a beat.

yaga, meanwhile, continues with that same expression, "i too was young once. i can understand what you're going through now - which is why i won't stop you from showing your talents to her or whatever. just... remember no one should die."

a quiet nod is all the boy manages in reply, too overwhelmed for a bit by the fatherly care yaga insists on giving him despite the annoyance suguru and he equally insist on being to their sensei.

with a pat on the shoulder, yaga leaves in the direction of the other faculty and staff. schooling his expression, gojo shoots suguru a look.

"hey suguru, how did yaga get to know about me and her?"

"who is her, gojo senpai?" a sweet voice chips in, soon followed by your teasing grin floating into his line of vision.

the boy averts his gaze for a beat - flustered by the sheer proximity between both of your faces which could be closed were he not such a coward, stop smirking, suguru - before sending you a wounded look.

"since when did i become gojo senpai to you?"

"since today," you reply with a tight smile. gojo doesn't like it one bit on your face. "i've been asked by the higher-ups to act professional with you."

a moment passes - wherein the boy registers the statement - before red flashes in his vision. placing his hands on your shoulders, he asks, or rather, demands to know, "did they hurt you? or threaten you? give me their names. who were those fucking bastards?"

brows furrowing, you place your much smaller hands atop his. "relax. nothing happened," you whisper, so quiet only he can hear it, "they don't have the guts or power to hurt or threaten me. all they told me is to, i quote, refrain from calling you such terms of endearment again. and i was like, okay."

a small smile settles on your lips as you take his hands in yours and start rubbing circles into them. the boy feels a lot of his tension drain away. smile brightening (you too seem to have realized the effects of this gesture on him), you add, "plus, it's only four years. once we've both graduated, i can get back to calling you whatever i want to call. those old geezers can't direct me then."

"they still can't now..." gojo begins - then stops.

with that bootlicker eldest brother you have, those old rats can now.

you give him a tired smile, words unneeded to confirm that the both of you are indeed cursing the same set of people now.

you open your mouth to say something - funny probably, if the shine in your eyes was anything to go by - before a muted cough pops the bubble you two had unconsciously slipped into.

and with an entertained smirk at the boy, who immediately seperates your linked hands, shoko informs, "sensei's calling for you, gojo. the competition's about to begin."

acknowledging her with a brief nod, gojo returns his focus to you, looking for a sliver of fear or anxiety in your face - one he'll soothe away with a gentle smile and maybe, just maybe, a forehead kiss - only for all his dreams to be dashed in the dirt.

you're peering up at him, beaming excitedly.

"go, beat 'em, senpai," you cheer him with a fist pump. an amused snicker sounds somewhere behind. your zeal doesn't budge one bit. "go, kick those kyoto students' asses. i know you will win."

and win, your white-haired senpai does - nothing new it it.

and you too seem to be very happy at it - again nothing new in it.

'cause when do you not congratulate him with a blinding beam every time the boy is successful - be it at making those pretty origami stars the way you taught him to; or at defeating a weakass sorcerer in a lame match.

however what is new is the fact you've grown rather competitive - not that gojo minds it in the slightest, though. quite the contrary, in fact.

"aren't you being a little too confident?" you inquire, throwing him a peeved glance, "every opponent you face in the future won't be as weak as those two kyoto boys today. you sure you'll stay invincible then too?"

resting his chin on the chair he is straddling, the second-year smirks, "any way you can prove i won't, shortie?"

geto sends him a questioning look while ieiri looks away from them to the scenery outside, giving a long sigh. his other two kouhais, nanami and haibara, pause in their game of cards to look at you, confusedly.

gojo observes you ignore them, eyes trained on him only, lips curving slowly into a sharp grin. gods, can you get any lovelier than this?

"well..." you drawl, keeping your focus on him. a flush creeps up the sides of his neck, which he earnestly hopes goes overlooked by you.

it doesn't go overlooked by your too-serious classmate, though - gojo spots nanami's eyes widen for a mere instant before reverting to their typical indifference.

you continue, grin simmering to a daring smile now, "why don't you find it out on your own tomorrow? twelve noon. practice field. what do you think, senpai?"

the sorcerer pretends to take a moment to regard your proposal, then shrugs. "sure, why not? sounds good enough to me."

with a wordless nod, the boy watches you return to the video game you were playing with his best friend - then look back at him on your name being called. an eyebrow rises in silent question.

seeing that the cue, he asks, "but what will the loser have to do?"

the reply comes with a smirk, your eyes dropping to your game. "you can buy me the latest version of this game. that'll be fine, i guess."

gojo was wrong - said person realizes as he watches the orange-red glow seep in through the window and render you an ethereal glow.

your competitiveness isn't the only thing new to him this evening.

your ability to make him even more head over heels for you than the boy already is (an impossible feat, really, given the chains and locks guarding him within, apart from the layer of infinity without)...

...this is yet another new thing gojo learns about you, this evening.

|3/6| gather info on your crush.

"oh, you wouldn't want to be friends with her."

the comment cuts through the air with a noisy chuckle and a raucous chorus of giggles - gojo's knuckles grow white with the painfully tight grip he has on the glass of mocktail.

suguru shoots him a contrite face from the other side of the crowd, mouthing an apology with a helpless shrug. the boy looks away from his best friend to throw a glance at the two girls a few seats away.

a beat passes wherein shoko and utahime share a brief look, and the former speaks up, an odd edge to her voice as she leans forwards, a smirk directed at the boy. "and why wouldn't geto? she seems like a pretty nice girl to be friends with."

your cousin scoffs. gojo seriously wishes there wasn't a strict rule set by his father for the clan members of not meddling in the other clans' matters, to maintain an image of neutrality and amiability.

(it's not like he prefers not to break rules or is afraid of his father, the boy thinks grimly as he gulps the last sip of his mocktail and returns the glass to the table with a thud. it's far from being either of those.

it's just that with a small response from him in this matter, you will be dragged under the elders' scrutiny; your friendship with him too will be - and that's something he would never wish upon you. so the boy stays quiet, opting to-)

"what the fuck did you just say?"

the chitter-chatter dies down to a deathly silence in an instant.

rising from his seat, gojo stalks towards the boy sitting on the couch. from the background, he can hear few voices urge him to stop, to get back, with repeated 'satoru, no' and 'satoru, relax' - but the boy finds not a cell in his body wanting to heed those voices. marching right up to your cousin, who shoots him a pathetically fake smirk now, the boy repeats himself, "what. did. you. just. say."

the target of the query huffs a chuckle, drunk and stinking - and your friend realizes now just how much of a diluted description of him you gave him the other day. the guy isn't just some petty irritating relative of yours, he is a fucking bastard.

a fucking bastard who's going to get beaten into a pulp, if he doesn't choose his next words wisely.

another chuckle leaves him, before he gets up from his seat, a slight sway to the action as he sneers at gojo. now, were the circumstances different, the white-haired boy is sure such a brazen person would've impressed him, who is the strongest sorcerer there is, but not today.

not when you're the one who is the innocent undeserving recipient of such a remark as the one he utters next.

"i just said, my cousin's a freak who can read someone's mind without them knowing - and she does that all the time for her sick enjoyment. no one can ever trust that bitch."

a fist connects with the side of your cousin's face and before anyone can realize what's happening, the two boys are rolling on the floor in a brawl, gojo obviously with the upper hand as he lands blow after blow and yell after yell on the other.

a quiet voice whispers to his conscience, chiding his response to the situation to be too harsh, too cruel - but no sooner does it appear than it is stomped down and shoved away by images from the past.

images of a little girl crying, yelling, screaming, eyes squeezed shut, how everything's so loud, how everyone's so noisy, how everyone just can't seem to stop talking of her - in the shocked silence of the party hall.

images of being informed over the phone, his friend won't be coming to play today either - for a class or a function or a cold, he cares the least for - before overhearing later at dinner, it's the fifth day the girl's been comatose since her last treatment.

images of brash celebrations revelling in the discovery and return of a technique, long thought lost - the new messiah, they exclaim - while the said person looks at the elders with face steeped in what, the boy doesn't need his six eyes to know, is terror.

images of a girl, saying in a surprisingly void tone, how horrible, how terrible, how despicable a weapon they've made her into - sneaking into people's minds to steal the meaning of their lives away - before giving a suggestion, too smart, too sharp for a girl of ten; although-

"satoru!"

the singular word snaps the sorcerer's thoughts into two, making him move his irate gaze away from the bloodied face of the bitch to the door-

oh.

it's you.

you, standing in the school uniform, a bag slung over your shoulders.

you, eyes round and lips parted as you stare at the scene before.

you, who takes only a second before you rush forwards, moving him away from your cousin, worried gaze raking over his features instead of the bruised wailing mess of a relative left behind.

"'toru," the word escapes you in a whisper as you maneuver him into sitting on the couch.

another voice wafts over to him, a lot like suguru's, but he pays it no mind, wanting to focus on you and you only, while your fingers travel over his face, brush his bangs away, tuck them behind the shell of his ear, then finally come to a rest on the apple of his cheeks, the grazing of the thumb soothing a minor cut.

though the way your eyebrows furrow at it, emotions darting across your face a million a second, from confusion to concern to anger - gojo reckons, were anyone to see you now, they would think it ain't a tiny nick but a gaping wound.

the white-haired boy grasps your wrist in his fingers.

"i'm okay, shortie," the second-year reassures you in a whisper. you peer at him closely in turn for a beat longer, before a long sigh leaves you though the frown on your lips stays the same. he would've called you cute if not for the murderous intent rolling off you in waves...

gojo decides to call you hot now.

a seething gaze with a soft "what happened, 'toru?" reaches him next.

oh yes, gojo swoons inwardly, you're being so fucking hot.

nuzzling into the palm cradling his cheek, the boy smiles. "nothing you need to worry about."

"it's your cousin," a female voice butts in before a known pair of heads walk into his vision, one smoking a cigarette while the other looks at him then you, mildly stunned.

shoko continues, as laidback as ever (as if she too wasn't glowering then), "suguru there asked him something about you to which the pig replied with some nonsense, because of which satoru here jumped in to defend your honour." your eyes travel from her to him. a whoosh of air leaves the girl and she takes a long drag from a cigarette. "nothing very serious, to be honest..."

"but nothing too unserious either," utahime adds, which earns a small nod from her girlfriend, "if the asshole dares to lie about you once-"

"what's to say he won't again," you finish the sentence for her, a dark shadow looming over your face, then throw the culprit a harsh look. "and what shit did you spout, mr. resident douchebag of the clan?"

a corner of gojo's lips quirk up at the nickname you gave, then part in a grin at the reaction your cousin gave to that. embarassed, for sure, yet never going farther than glaring at you from those swollen eyes.

if you weren't standing here, caressing his face, your friend's certain, he would have gone to tear him a new one - the latter still scowling at you whilst intermittently yelping at the pain of his wounds.

a long sigh escapes you, visibly tired and annoyed.

"i know you can hear me just fine by that stink eye you're giving me, so fess up now - what the fuck were you telling about me?"

an absolute silence answers your question, and just when gojo thinks he might have to leave your warm cocoon to go beat your cousin up, again, suguru's voice sounds from beside, "he was talking about your CT."

"oh?" a brow rises. "and what about it?"

"apparently - and i quote," the long-haired boy adds with palms raised and faced forwards, at the scowl he shoots him, "you can read others' minds without their knowledge, and you do that always. for fun, your cousin claims."

you blink, and turn to your relative; a mask, gojo observes with a hint of melancholy, slipping over your features - not that the boy blames you, though. you need a mask - now, most of all times.

"you said that, aniki?" you inquire, the caressing hand over gojo's skin stilling with a slight tremor. he envelopes your hand in his; an action you respond to with a squeeze, continuing, "but why did you? after all that happened, after all that everyone in the family knows, why?"

a stubborn scoff sounds from the other end of the room; one of the six eyes twitches in its socket.

"i don't think you should ask this question, shortie," the second-year hums, pulling a nonplussed face from you. he grins, "you can simply read his mind, no? your aniki won't be forced to give a reply; your ask too will be answered. besides, this isn't gonna be the first time you're breaking into someone's mind, and, your cousin's not even gonna feel his mind being read - a painless procedure - isn't that right, aniki?"

"fuck no!!!!"

and bingo!

gojo watches you cast a long look at him, then back at your cousin, before a slow smile spreads on your features, the glint so dear to him making a comeback in your eyes.

"not a bad idea, senpai," you say, lifting your free hand and directing it at the culprit. a few gasps sound around you, soon followed by a few murmurs - your senpai watches them slide off your skin like water off a duck's back. you announce in a sing-song fashion, "well, here goes nothing~"

then stop at the anguished cry, your smile widening into a grin.

sweet and smug, like the cat who got the canary.

gojo feels three pairs of eyes look at his smirk, all at the same time - the boy lets them look. the two of you share dynamics, the nature of which none, except you two, can ever dream of comprehending.

wailing, your cousin rises and stumbles over to you, hands folded in a pleading gesture.

"please, no, no, no," he sobs, very nearly falling at your feet before you take a step backwards, disgust overtaking your grin, sending the boy reeling back. "i beg you, no. please don't kill me. i was just kidding; it was just a joke. i'm sorry, don't kill me."

"kill you?" you let out a shocked gasp, placing a hand over your chest, "i would never. i was just trying to read your mind, aniki. why on earth would that kill you? you won't even feel anything-"

"it's the binding vow, you bitch!!" the boy spits, interrupting you, "the one you took years back, 'cause you didn't want the higher-ups to use you as a spy again; giving up the element of secrecy of your CT to-"

your cousin pauses, the realization and the ensuing horror and regret dawning over his face; gojo presses him, sharing a smile with you.

"to?"

the answer arrives as a shuddered whisper - a whisper audible to all, however, thanks to the heavy silence in the room.

"to make it lethal on its victim instead; an attack none can stop, not even a special-grade."

the crash of a glass, or five, impacting with the ground sounds; you give a satisfied nod, smirking.

gojo runs a palm over your dishevelled hair, undoubtedly from driving with the windows down to this stupid meet of the teenagers from the jujutsu clans. you give him a smile, mouth opening to say something, but he doesn't let you. "don't thank me, stupid."

"okay," you acquiesce, a slight huff to your tone before it grows softer, "but can i at least say you were being very cool then? i'm impressed."

"who's impressed with whom?" a crass voice interrupts the moment before gojo can even form it entirely between the two of you.

three - nope, five (even your classmates are here, tch!) teasing smiles float into his vision; the second-year opens his mouth to throw back a retort - except you snatch the opportunity away from him.

"i'm impressed with gojo senpai- any problems, anyone?" you say, tilting your head to one side with the cutest little furrow in the midst of your brows. all five shake their heads, smiles widening before one of them falls on your next words.

"but the next time i see you, geto senpai, asking others what sort of a person i am - don't you dare deny it, you asked two of my friends too the same thing, they told me; god knows why you need my character certificate, though, and for whom; you're acting as if you've a sibling i wish to date and you wanna know everything about me before giving the green signal, but whatever it is, senpai-"

you heave a breath, a break from your tirade - while the remainder of the room's breathing stays suspended.

gojo glances away from you to find the attention of all the attendees fixed on you. he wraps an arm around your midsection and rests his chin on your shoulder. you lean the side of your head onto his.

"i promise i'll create problems for you, more if i see gojo senpai being dragged into the aftermath of your curiosity - okay?"

gojo watches his best friend look at you, terrified, for a second before turning to throw him a glare. the white-haired boy bites back a grin.

placing hands on his hips, suguru exclaims, "you know what, i tried to help but no one here is worthy of my assistance."

"no one asked you for this help, suguru," shoko interjects smoothly, "you were the one who insisted, something about this method being the most effective or something if they want to catch her attention-"

"whoa, whoa, whoa. who wants to catch my attention?" you inquire, cutting them two off. gojo's classmates stop and the blood flowing in his veins drops to a subzero as he cranes his neck to look at you.

you twist to look back at him. "is there someone who wants to catch my attention? do you know them?"

"i-uh-um," the boy stutters, mind scrambling for a reply - something, anything - before nanami interrupts, a small smile on his face, "yeah, there is someone, actually, and we all know him. geto senpai was just gathering some data on you as his wingman."

"oh," you mutter, gaze dropping to the ground, then lifting to gojo. the boy simply blinks back, which draws a frown from you in turn.

retrieving a pair of shades from your bag, you hand it to him and turn back to suguru, a barely-there smile on your lips.

"next time he wants some info on me, ask him to ask me directly. i'll appreciate it."

"noted, boss," the words escape gojo before the addressed can even reply, utterly unmoved by the five exasperated glares [honestly, it's four: haibara can never really glare at anyone] - the next step of the plan already whirring to life in the shades-donning boy's brain.

so, so giddy at the fact of being told of the golden key to your heart.

|4/6| gather info from your crush.

"the moon is beautiful, isn't it?"

"so are you."

a long minute passes between gojo and you, gazes fixed on the other person and only them, before you lick your chapped lips - the boy's attention instantly going to that hynotic motion of your tongue...

and you pinch his arm.

"ow shortie!!!! what the fuck was that for!?!?" the boy yells, massaging the sore spot on his arm, before out of nowhere, the red signal glows green and he has to shift his focus to the steering wheel.

you toss him a mad scowl from the passenger's seat, one he catches effortlessly, winking, when an observation crashes upon him and he coos. "aww, did my itty-bitty-shortie-baby just get flustered by me? aww, is she blushing? aww, she's so cute!!!"

"i asked you to help me learn how to confess, gojo," you grumble with a glare at him, "not make fun of me."

your co-passenger makes an affronted face at your words, although, internally, he is beside himself. and to be honest, how can he not?

you're in the same car as him, on a three hour long drive from tokyo to nikko, exchanging declarations of love with one another while the boy's (spare) shades slide down the bridge of your nose and he hums along to the songs you choose on the stereo... if a few facts are being ignored (like the one where this is your mission and the two of you are in your uniforms), the second-year can totally imagine the two of you going on a weekend getaway as a couple now.

a soft smile settles on his lips, as he sneaks a glance of you from the corner of his eyes. "i wasn't trying to make fun of ya, shortie," he says, "i was just responding to your statement."

"but that directly?" you ask, shock and embarrassment flooding your face. your friend stifles a chuckle. "i commented on the moon being beautiful. you should've said something like 'it is, isn't it?' - but no, you went and replied, 'so are you'. my admirer will never be so direct with me; why don't you try to understand that simple fact?"

there are a few days when gojo is really divided between wanting to flick your forehead hard and wanting to kiss you senseless.

today seems to be one such glorious day.

swerving the car onto a stop by the side of the road, he lets his head fall onto the steering wheel and lifts it to lock his eyes with yours.

"and what makes you think your admirer won't be a direct guy?"

"the fact the guy couldn't even show his face to me once, and did not even want to share his contact details with me, despite me pestering him via suguru and nanami, for ages now."

okay, ouch, that one's on him.

yet, never being the one to accept defeat, he throws back, "and what if he wants to build up some mystery before your first meet? you love mysteries, don't you? the guy likes you; he must be trying to use that knowledge to confess to you."

"i like only murder mysteries, 'toru," your deadpan response arrives in a beat, which then evolves into curiosity when you ask, "but how do you know so much about these things? how many relationships have you been in, 'toru?"

it's gojo's turn to grow embarrassed now. hand reaching out to fiddle with the bracelet on your wrist, he answers, "zero."

"hey, don't be embarrassed," he watches you shoot him a grin. a tiny smile is all he manages to return while you continue, "i too have never been in a relationship. anyone you ever confessed to?"

"isn't that evident from my previous answer?"

"nope! you might've gotten rejected; who knows~"

the grin on your lips widens; gojo looks at it for once before dropping his gaze. under the interplay of the light and shadow from the leaves of the tree, there appears to be something different about you - the sorcerer can't really pinpoint what it is but he knows there is, and he doesn't want to dwell on it - lest he loses his self-control.

"i have never confessed to anyone, and whatever confessions i have received, i've either ignored or rejected them all."

"ooh, same!" your excited voice ringing within the confines of the car, you lift his palm to meet yours in a hi-five. gojo lets you do so - before you place it between your two palms and clasp it, a sharp gasp drawn from him at the action. you shoot him a concerned look.

"your hand's freezing cold, 'toru? you okay?"

"yeah, yeah, i'm fine," the boy mumbles, moving his hand away from your comforting warmth - an action he doesn't want to do but has to, for the sake of propriety. something happening out of sheer impulse isn't how he wants to start his story with you - you don't deserve that.

"um, okay," you mutter, then inquire, timid and awkward, "i've one last question on your love life... can i ask that? you can totally ask me to stop though if you're feeling uncomfortable."

"ask away," the boy answers with a smile, he can see, is tense in the mirror as he restarts the car and returns it to the road. a long second passes before you ask, "have you ever liked anyone, 'toru?"

"yeah... there's one girl. i love her."

"oh."

the monosyllabic answer sends a torsion through his chest and gojo twists towards you - only to find a cryptic smile resting on your lips.

discarding your shoes, you fold your knees upto your chest and rest your head atop them, facing him. your senpai is really thankful a soft song comes onto the stereo next, for were it not so, he's certain your soft question would have gone unheard.

"how does your first love feel? beautiful, right? the way it's in books, songs and movies... isn't it?"

gojo takes a moment to mull over your query.

it is... yet it isn't.

the flutters in his heart when you skip past him in the corridors with a beam; the butterflies in his stomach when you plop on the chair next to him in the cafeteria; the dizziness in his head when your face is too close to his; the utterly-unplatonic thoughts of you plaguing him, day and night, dusk and dawn...

the fictional works sure have got this aspect of love right.

but they aren't right in so many other aspects of it.

falling in love with you isn't love-on-first-crash nor is it from a magical transformation in one of you nor is it after ages and ages of ignorance and denial and the final mind-numbing feeling that oh shit! you're the one for him; always have been; the girls with whom he's been till now are mere mirages of you; but it's too late now... you're moving abroad on a flight in two hours, with a boyfriend who's far better than him.

no.

the goggles-wearing sorcerer's catching feelings for you is way more realistic and easier to digest than that.

the two of you are friends, friends, friends - until the morning the two of you are munching on an ice cream tub, and with a casual glance at you, the boy muses what he feels for you is weird, not like his feelings for his other friends - and after a month's worth research, reaches the conclusion of him being in love with you.

quick. direct. smart.

just like the heir of the gojo clan himself.

a small smile lining his lips on this short trip down the memory lane, your senpai hums, "it's complicated. you'll understand when you have your first love."

a soft sigh is the only response you give and gojo reaches over to give a small knock to the side of your head. "don't overthink, shortie," the boy says in a fond tone, a feeling which expands within himself at the smile you offer him, "everything's gonna be okay; i'll personally make sure it is."

"oh, yeah?" a brow rises while your eyes crinkle in a cheeky grin. "and how exactly do you plan on doing that? you gonna have a serious talk with my admirer or something, before our first date?"

if talks in the mirror over the bathroom sink counts, the white-haired boy has had countless discussions so far - but he doesn't tell you that - choosing to return your question with a question of his own.

one which has been pestering him for a while now.

"but, shortie... why the hell are you practising-"

"to confess now?" stealing his words from the tip of his tongue, gojo watches you let out a long tired exhale, then slump back in your seat, a hint of a smile on your lips. flying strands of your hair, from the wind rushing in through the open window, form a halo around your head-

your friend thinks you are an angel descended from above, no matter how you look.

a titter breaks his enraptured gaze on you, and he blinks, finding you with a tiny curve of your lips. you continue, "i wanna stay prepared. if not for this date, then another. if not for this guy, then another. but the thing is, i wanna stay prepared. for love and for everything that comes with it - besides..." your smile grows bashful, an emotion gojo instantly realizes is impossible for him to get tired of seeing on you; you shrug.

"the heart does what it wants, does it not?"

really??

the young sorcerer looks away from you for a beat, letting his gaze travel over the rows of trees dotting the increasingly mountainous terrain, then looks back at you.

the two of you are awfully close to the destination of your trip.

removing a hand from the wheel and reaching it out to intertwine his fingers with yours, the boy asks, "wanna go visit that patisserie i was talking of the other day after this mission? i've heard the sweets there are worth dying for."

"but won't it be late evening by the time our job's done?" you ask back with a frown, "and we also have to return to the school... why don't-"

"it's a full moon tonight, shortie," gojo interjects you with a soft little smile. you stare befuddled at him for a while, before the bulb lights to life in your brain - an event bringing a semblance of relief to the boy - and you laugh.

"oh, oh, oh!" you exclaim, waggling your eyebrows, "i know exactly what you're going to do. you're gonna create a romantic atmosphere to teach me how to confess, aren't you? method teaching - eh, 'toru?"

a chuckle is what gojo decides to offer to your buzzing curiosity, until later this evening.

"i'll let my heart do what it wants to do."

|5/6| splurge on gifts.

"and what can this be?"

the silver of the bracelet glints, the tiny sapphires in its rim adding a sparkling effect as you show it to gojo. the boy drags his gaze from it to you, lips pressing into a line as he takes in the way you're looking at him.

two months back, if someone even merely insinuated at the fact you might be growing distant from him, he wouldn't have thought once before retaliating with a mean word or hit.

and, to be just, why on earth would he not?

yes, the 'date' he had proposed to take you on post mission remained just a proposal - many thanks to the old geezers and their knack for providing severely understated mission details [bitter sarcasm wholly intended] - but that didn't drive a wedge between you both; quite the opposite, in fact.

two months back, he found you sobbing at his bedside in the school infirmary, lips pressing kisses to his bruised knuckles time and again, while you kept mumbling on how you should've been more wary and cognizant of your surroundings, how he shouldn't have switched his infinity off to guard you from the caving roof and how you would buy him a milion sweets if he promised to not be reckless, but wouldn't hesitate to kill him with your CT if he broke the promise even once.

lovingly overprotective in an irresistibly cute way - that's exactly how you grew to be around gojo in the days he was healing, in the latter's eyes. suguru and shoko's comments too grew less teasing and more encouraging with time then - something which made him think, the feelings in his being might not be as one-sided as he tends to believe at times.

something which made him think, there might not be a day he has to imagine without your radiant grin directed at him, for him, because of him.

yet, now... as he regards you with utmost attention...

the sorcerer can't help but deem the unimaginable to have occurred.

face grim, eyes dull, lips puckered into a scowl, every fucking time you've come across him since your return to school from your home...

it doesn't really take a genius to gather you don't really want to be in his vicinity - a realisation which leads to your best friend of a decade and a few years to shower a torrent of gifts on you.

under the impression, that's what will return your keen undivided gaze to him - an impression, he watches, being tainted wrong with every other second that passes under the fading daylight.

you return the bracelet to its box and place it in the bag, one the boy knows contains the other gifts he had left at your doorstep or sent via shoko or haibara to you, the past month - and one you intend to give him back - 'cause for what else could you have asked to meet him at the training grounds this evening, carrying the bag, if not this?

wishing, not for the first time, for his six eyes to be able to glean your current state of mind, he asks, scooting slowly, deliberately to your seated form on the bench, "did you not like it, shor-"

"please don't call me that."

the grin slowly unfurling on gojo's lips stutters, then vanishes in the heat of the fury of your eyes. he watches your gaze roam over his face once before skittering away. your voice grows a mild tremor, "please don't call me that. i don't want to hear that nickname ever again."

the soda can nearly slips from between his fingers onto the grass below before he grasps it again, firmer this time, and tosses it upside down to empty it into his mouth. it's a brand you had introduced him to, gojo reminisces, on a day just like this... grins and squeals as you jumped in front of the vending machine, so, so joyed that it had your favourite drink.

soon after, it became the white-haired boy's favourite drink too - but no longer now. not when the fruity tang of the liquid, which endeared it to you as you claimed, tastes like the metallic clang of blood to him.

now, many might call gojo overdramatic here - you've asked him not to call you that countless times now, for fuck's sake - but many don't know you the way your friend does. in horrifying contrast to before, a note of revulsion exists in your words.

undisguised disgust paired with loathing.

sharp enough to pierce infinity, past skin, muscles, ribs and layers of tissues and chains, into that stupid organ strumming melancholic rhythms now, your name bleeding raw from its walls.

superfluous, some might scoff - but they'll have never known there's a dark side to love, the one gojo's traversing now. though... the young sorcerer muses, finishing the drink and sending it into the trash can with a flick of his cursed energy, they'll never have known you. they'll never have known the degree to which the boy adores you, either.

a strong whoosh of wind hits the two of you, carrying the smell of wet earth with it. a sign of the arrival of your favourite season, your friend absently notes as he looks back at you.

the tip of your nose appears flushed red.

"and may i know why?"

shock brims your gaze at the soft question. gojo watches you cough up a strained chuckle. "i knew you to be more assertive. demanding. never thought you could request for an explanation... what changed, 'to-" you still for a beat, then continue, burning another bridge, same as the boy feared an instant too early, "i mean, gojo-senpai?"

"you're the best person to answer that," the mentioned person replies with lips forming a gentle curve. yes, the limitless user's always been one hell of a self-assured person - it comes free with the package of receiving god-like treatment by most from before you can crawl - but there exist times when all that - the fight, the zeal, the energy - every one of those just ebbs away from his body, rendering him the hapless spectator, and victim, to the car crash.

except a car crash might hurt less than the careless sneer you shoot his way, coupled with an eye roll. you never gave him such a look in the past, before you went back home for the vacation. just what-

"i think you know why i called you here, yeah?" you ask, picking the bag up and pushing it towards him. the things inside it rattle; the boy wonders if you even went through those two books he sent you. they were from the series you had babbled, ranted and gushed to him on for hours on end on numerous occasions, once upon a time.

gojo nods briefly, though doesn't spare it even a glance. it doesn't go past your notice, he notes, given the way your eyes jump from him to his gifts, then to your fiddling fingers. "well, that's one box ticked off," you say, "and as for the other-"

"i know that too; you need not say every fucking thing out loud," your senpai cuts you off with a mirthless inflection to his tone, eyes falling down onto his sneakers. it was a gift from you on his last-

bloody hell, why does everything have to be a sore reminder of you?

"not saying it out loud doesn't make it any less real," your quiet voice tears through his thought, and he looks up. hoping, desperately so, a tender smile is waiting on your features, reserved for him - only to see every hope of his get dashed into the dirt by your frown.

his best friend was right. gojo's pathetically down for you.

a thunder rumbles in the distance.

you continue, "but since you've asked me not to, i guess i won't. that's the least i can do-"

"but what went wrong?" the question hurtles past the confines of his mouth into the stormy air. and, for once, gojo decides not to conceal the moisture in his eyes behind his shades. removing the eyewear, he moves to sit right beside you, approaching to take your hand in his.

you jerk away from him.

as if you were fire and he, water.

as if you were sun and he, non-luminous scarred moon threatening to eclipse your joy.

the white-haired boy retracts his hand away. you glance at him once before averting your gaze away. he watches you clench your hands in a tight fist. "nothing was wrong, senpai," you mumble; gojo bites his lower lip to keep it from wobbling, "but there's always something tiny wrong in everything going right, ya know? i just feel we outgrew our phase of being friends."

the growl of thunder sounds closer this time. a drop of water lands on his thigh - the sorcerer doesn't bother to know if it is his eyes or those clouds above which finally welled over. voice thickening and breaking, a scoff leaves him, "you know, as well as me, that's the lamest excuse ever. and you called us being friends, right?" you take a moment then nod weakly. a pained sigh leaves him, "then what happened to being open with each other, hm? i thought we kept no secrets from each other."

the boy watches you keep your gaze stubbornly trained on the grass beneath. something within him breaks.

"c'mon, don't play dumb," gojo urges, plopping down onto the object of your attention, just so he can have a better view of your face. you face away with a frown. he prompts you again, hints of helplessness sneaking in between his words, "c'mon, shortie. don't look away with the shitty reason of us outgrowing our phase of friendship. we were - no, are the closest. you know, right? that you can tell me any-"

"not everything's meant to remain the same always, senpai!" the loud exclamation leaves your mouth. gojo stills and so do you. his eyes fall on the way you wring your hands once before stuffing them into your hoodie's pockets.

it isn't oversized on you, the realisation clicks into place in his mind.

you let out an exhale through your mouth, then pin him down with eyes teeming with what seems like weary distaste.

"can you please get up? you're creating an unnecessary scene right now."

if your words weren't enough, it's the way you utter them that leaves cracks and fissures in him. one more blow, and the boy's sure he'll be blown away into smithereens - an outcome he's trying to avoid [but knows, can't; every piece of armour he dons turns flimsy before you].

"is it 'cause you tended to my injuries then?" he asks. your lips strain into a line. casting him a sideways glance, you shake your head, "i'm many things but a liar ain't in the list, senpai. when i cared for you, it was from my heart. when i no longer wanna associate with you-"

a dark shadow falls over your features. rising from the bench, you shift your gaze skywards and back on him, "it'll rain pretty soon. you should get back inside."

there's something between summer evenings and you and him, gojo muses as he peers up at you.

it was a summer evening when you first came to visit the boy at this school.

it is a summer evening when you're turning your back on him in this same old school.

with the glaring exception of there being the warmth of your form beside him then versus the gnawing chill you're leaving behind now.

"you never completed your sentence," gojo points out, whispering.

[too loud and the sorcerer fears, the last interaction between the two of you will end as a horrid yelling match. besides, you like things with happy endings, don't you? he'll be sure to give you your happy ending as the last gift.]

you send a restrained twitch of lips his way. "i remember being asked not to say every fucking thing out loud, senpai."

a shaky smile is the only thing he finds he can muster in return, at the moment.

"suguru said you're leaving for your home tonight again," the student says, getting up from the ground and moving closer to, yet too far a distance from you. "don't drive with the windows down, okay? the weather's bad, you might catch a cold."

a muscle in your jaw twitches. the valley between your brows furrows.

gojo lets his smile widen a bit. so shallow. so hollow.

"don't worry," he says, "i'm taking this as seriously as you want me to. it's just that..." trailing off, the boy takes a step away. your feet move an inch towards him before you immediately withdraw them. a small mimicry of a laugh leaving him, gojo fixates his gaze on the iridescent colour of your irises.

"i've always seen you as someone way more than a mere childhood friend, y'know? and no matter what you say or do, i can never and will never stop seeing you the same way. i love you that much, short- oh! sorry, i'm not supposed to call you that, am i?."

a beat passes, then another, and another.

your response comes out as a garbled mess of letters and tears. "you're the worst person ever, 'toru. i hate you."

and with that and not another glance wasted anywhere, you whirl on your feet and dash back to the school.

leaving behind the echo of your words ringing in gojo's ears, louder than the thunder of the lightning crashing on a tree a little away.

|6/6| this isn't really a way. if you're at this step, just fuckin' stop and retreat. your crush won't ever notice you – you sad, pathetic loser.

"is that what you really think?"

gojo wonders if a momentous occasion as the one now deserves one brawl thrown into it or not. it won't be anything much; just dumping a bowl of soup down suguru's shirt and/or landing a pretty solid kick to his stomach and/or-

"careful, senpai or you might've to go home, bloody and beaten," the most monotone voice ever possible crashes into his thoughts in the worst possible way. a snicker, far too familiar, joins in. "yeah, nanami's right. besides, we haven't even clicked a pic yet. you wouldn't want to wear a black eye in it, would you?"

clinking his glass with shoko's, the white-haired watches suguru gulp down a shot of tequila, then give a mighty firm shake of his head. "no, of-fucking-course not. today is our dearest kouhai's important day; i don't wanna get involved in any drama now; though..." trailing off, the black-haired boy shoots gojo an awfully obvious side-glance before a look shared with the others.

the boy lets his eyes wander away from them. an abominably sharp acrylic nail pokes him in the cheek. gojo exhales a sigh, so exhausted.

were it just a day, the boy's certain to the hell and back, that he would have whipped up a snarky insult to the stink-eye aimed his way. the boy would have slapped his drunk classmate's hand away, calling her sense of fashion the worst names possible.

gojo, however, decides to resort to neither today. he decides to settle for a sigh - the second in the last minute, longer and wearier than the one before - and rests his face into the hollow of his palms, screwing eyes shut.

an exasperated grumble - or two, maybe - permeates the air.

"gojo senpai," the words ring out in a tone far too soft and worried. he muses he doesn't need to look to see the sympathetic frown haibara must be wearing, nor the varying degrees of pity and concern etched into the others' features. a warm hand squeezes his shoulder slightly.

haibara continues, "geto senpai is not entirely wrong, y'know? yes, of course, implying you might kick up drama is sorta wrong, i admit so. but otherwise... you could've tried to, i don't know, somehow find out the reason behind her sudden distance from you?"

opening his eyes, gojo twists to face his kouhai, ready to interrupt him, but stops at the earnestness in his gaze. "turning into a recluse or moping around isn't gonna solve anything, senpai. it's been more than a month since then and from what little i've seen, i can say it's eating the both of you alive. you, way more than her. so, go, speak with her," he urges him with a smile, "the others are not very well at showing their emotions but trust me when i say, we all are worried for you both, senpai."

the white-haired boy drags his gaze away from the speaker. suguru gives him a smile, shoko pokes him in the cheek again, nanami offers a fleeting impression of something smiley before looking away with a grimace.

gojo's eyes flit back to the encouraging boy before.

"okay," the upperclassman relents with a sigh, which instantly grows into a frown the moment every piece clicks into place in his mind and the goggles-wearing boy swears his heart skips a beat, "but what did you say about seeing shortie and know-"

stopping in the middle of the question, the boy stiffens.

three glasses shatter on impact with the floor, freed from the waiter's grasp, soon followed by two maids screeching your name in the most terror-struck voice ever manageable. gojo's six eyes provide him with enough details as always; albeit it seems miles from enough now, the way it always is in your case, further deepening the sorcerer's need to physically see you once; to soak in the brilliance of your gaze and the sweetness of the curve of your lips once.

who knows if he'll ever see you again from as close as- okay, no, wait-

"did you just run all the way here-"

"i love you."

"-in your heels?"

everything falls silent the moment the last word leaves gojo's lips and a shuddered breath escapes him into the bittersweet fragrance of the citrus perfume he remembers you using. in a lilac dress with a messy hairstyle and diamond studs, the youngest and newest leader of your clan stands before him, cheeks stretched in a wide grin.

whirling his seat round completely, the boy gives you one long look, only to earn a hauntingly soft look in return.

you smile.

"i know you might see me as the most inconsistent, lying, crazy bitch at best or as the most opportunistic bitch ever, trying to seduce you, for lack of a better term, to satisfy her craving for power, at worst; but no matter how you see me, how others see me, how i see myself - i'm in love with you, that's one thing which won't change no matter what."

you pause.

and as he watches you catch your breath after that long as hell sentence para, the first realisation which crashes on gojo's otherwise numb brain is: you too haven't changed.

not. one. bit.

from the way you stick to your minimal makeup look; to the way you speak sans any break and curse yourself as you confess to something (you think you did) wrong; to the way your gaze remains fixed on him, acutely trained on even the mildest twitch of his facial muscles... one whole month has passed since that stormy evening yet you're still the same you.

a little sweet. a little sour. a whole lot perfect-

who loves him-

who loves him-

you. love. him. too.

for the first time in an apparent eternity, gojo feels his lips lift in a free smile. although the chuckle leaving him sounds laden with moisture and emotions.

"i'll die before calling you a seductress, shortie," the boy says, "you're way too dumb and naive for that." your eyes move to the girl drinking beside him for a second, before settling back on him, a light sheen in them. smile widening yet growing a tender quality, he goes on to say, "and i know you aren't a liar; but regarding the inconsistent claim... i think an explanation's long overdue, isn't it?"

you huff a mild chuckle. stuffing your hands into your dress pockets, your senpai watches you draw in a long breath before letting it out in a whoosh, a tiny smile nestling in the corner of your lips. you begin.

"you know, right, my eldest brother was the clan leader before me? y'know, after my father just decided, one fine day, he's growing old and so he wants to retire somewhere peaceful now, with my mom, leaving me in the care of takeshi nii-chan and his wife?"

four pairs of eyes switch to him in silent query. ignoring them, gojo nods. it isn't everyday you speak so openly of your family, especially this topic concerning them.

considering how painful and sore it is for you.

how big of an escapist your father is.

how big of an asshole your brother is.

how utterly difficult it is for you to navigate in this household daily.

your sigh interrupting his thoughts, he hears you continue, "well, all was going well until it was not; and i decided i'd already spent too much time being a spectator to my life and future keeping getting kicked around like a fucking soccer ball."

few gasps sound in the vicinity, undoubtedly at you cussing. nanami's smooth voice cuts in through their shocked surprise, and through the bubble, gojo was under the impression, he and you had slipped into.

judging from the tiny start you give, the white-haired boy surmises you too must have felt the same.

your classmate's solemn voice sounds in the hush, though traces of a hesitation can still be found in it when he asks, "they... didn't arrange a wedding for you in the month you were here... did they?"

"they did," you're quick to answer, voice growing a steely quality, "the higher-ups and my brother decided to get me engaged to-"

"to whom?"

gojo's lips quirk up at the way you roll your eyes at suguru's impatient question, then look at him, a tired smile creeping onto your features. but, hey! is that a tinge of shyness on your face that the boy can see?

you point your chin at him. "to 'toru, who else?"

the second (or maybe, the third) bout of silence would have followed this statement of yours too - if not for the cackling girl beside gojo. the latter makes no effort to conceal his irritation, shooting the most vicious glare ever; shoko simply raises her glass, as if in a toast, then tosses you a smirk.

"you love him, still you don't wanna get hitched with him? not very clever of you, yeah?"

"yeah," haibara chips in, albeit much less teasing and more a worried timbre than shoko, the shades-wearing boy deems. the other student continues, brows creasing together, "plus, i doubt gojo senpai saying no to the proposal. so, why didn't you go ahead with it?"

your head tilts to one side. your lips twitch in a knowing fashion.

"you just said the reasons yourself, yu-kun."

years later, if someone asks gojo when's the time he realised he's in love with you, too deep and too far gone to ever consider anyone but you by his side, as his other and undoubtedly better half, the sorcerer will grin the goofiest grin ever and sigh the dreamiest sigh ever, and say, "every day."

which is the truth, really-

yet, from those 'every day'-s, there exist few such days, whom the six-eyes user's brain subconsciously frames in a golden frame and places on a dust-free pedestal.

for instance, today.

a day your senpai dreaded to begin by leaving the comfort of his bed, knowing the person whose ascension to the metaphorical throne he has been invited to witness today, blood chilling and condensing into tears on his lashes as memories from long ago and not-so-long-ago hurtle into his brain.

only to morph, by evening, into the day the boy realises: love isn't just what made him switch his infinity off and pull you under him, a shield to protect you from the crumbling roof, forgetting everything except your safety and life; but love is also what made you push him and the emotions within yourself away.

forgetting everything - the boy knows from knowing you these many years - except your very evident aim of shielding him from the vicious schemes of those responsible for this damned jujutsu hierarchy.

no matter how easy and rewarding the other path would've been for you.

no matter how difficult and painful this current path must've been for you.

just 'cause you love him.

just 'cause you know, at the end of it all, he's going to be safe, away from the manipulating hands of the higher-ups - away from even the slimmest chance of experiencing a shred of the ordeals you suffered as a child, losing your free will and living as a mere puppet, subject to those old geezers' whims and fancies.

the two of you are not-too-near to the threshold of adulthood; still, through those unsure lenses of transition between immaturity and maturity, gojo feels sure this very moment that his eyes are viewing now - of watching his feelings being reciprocated not only in words (which, he knows, are true; your body language is as familiar to him as the back of his hand) but also in actions - so pure, so selfless, so utterly... loving-

the boy reckons his six eyes have never landed on a sight so ethereal and just so good, that it makes his heart want to burst right out of his chest.

drinking in the way you're regarding him, fingers fidgeting and teeth gnawing on your lower lip, gojo cracks a smile.

your restlessness abates a little.

"you became the clan leader just to make sure this story remains ours and only ours, didn't you?"

you take a moment before answering with a big nod.

"yeah," you say, "but that doesn't mean you need to be grateful to me or anything of the sort. you can give me any answer you want to give. you can also give me no answer, now or ever, if that's what you really want to do. just know that i love you, and that your answer can never really put a dent in it, no matter what it is."

"no matter what it is?" your senpai echoes your words back to you. a small nod is what you send in reply; yet it seems to be more than the quantity of oil required to set the cogs of gojo's brain whirring to life and mischief. eyes narrowing, he asks, "not even if my response is an 'i love you too, shortie', hm?"

the clock in the room ticks thrice.

two known voices mutter curses behind him.

five maids of yours scurry out the door, whispering excitedly.

you narrow your eyes back at him.

"i asked you to not feel pressured, didn't i? tell me what you want to say, 'toru," you say; his name in your mouth sounds sweeter than the sweetest mochi the boy's ever tasted, "and not those stuff you think i want to hear you say."

your statement draws an amused chortle from gojo. "did you really forget what i told you last that day, shortie? or did you not again not understand what i was telling you then?"

"what's there to not understand in that!?" your indignant reply arrives without missing a beat, "you said you've always seen me as way more than a childhood friend: true 'cause we're best friends. then- oh yeah," with a click of your fingers, you add, face steeped in contemplation, "you also said- oh."

"yep, oh," gojo nods his head in an exaggerated fashion, revelling in the way you're looking at him right now, eyes round as saucers and cheeks ruddy as the expensive wine being served now.

you still seem so beautiful to him.

it takes a pinch more than a while before you breathe out a breathless giggle. straightening in his seat, gojo feels his cheeks hurt a bit from the wide smile digging indents into them.

"you really lo-"

"ma'am, the guests for the evening party will be here very soon. you should get ready now," one of your maids interrupts you. the sorcerer feels his smile shrivel a little. you're barely back with him; yet you'll be stolen away from him-

"aw, is it so?" your entertained query cuts in through his thoughts. the boy looks up from his shoes his gaze had moved to before, to you, an awfully fake apologetic smile lighting up your face.

gods, why do you look so fucking kissable when you're like this?

"you know what, the people invited aren't really the kind i want to talk to and ruin my mood. besides, i've already met 'my' guests, so..." the boy watches you inch closer to him slowly as you trail off; your maid's eyes narrow before widening. you grin. "toodles, mrs. matsui!"

that and the salute you throw at everyone in the room are the last two memories clear in gojo's mind, before everything turns into a mush of everything yet nothing in the end.

well, barring a few exceptions, of course.

your contagious chortles, for instance, while you both dash down the hallways of your mansion; or your delighted gasp when he wraps his arms round you and warps to that patisserie in nikko; or your million-watt-bright beam to him, as you slap the latter's sneaky hands away from stealing a bite from your plate, whilst the latter declares this to be where you two will celebrate the future milestones; or the-

"ieiri senpai was right, y'know?" your tired voice cuts in through your senpai's rather-muddled recollections. the latter tears his gaze away from the inky-black night sky dotted by the twinkling lights of tokyo, to your drowsy form resting her head on his chest, his one arm tight around your shoulders, while the other rests behind his head on the cold hood of the car.

moving to brush the strands of hair away from your forehead, the boy presses a kiss to the tip of your nose, earning a sweet kiss to his chin in return, and hums, "not really the person i wanna chat about right now with my girlfriend..." you suddenly twist your body towards him, throwing an arm over his stomach and nuzzling into his neck; making a mental note to address you as that more often, he sighs. "but carry on, i guess. you won't be you if you can't gush about that damn shoko every third sentence or something."

planting your lips to his jaw for a mere second, gojo watches you pull away an inch from him, grinning. "senpai said you'll be the first one to confess but i'll be the one who makes things official and public and all that shit," you explain, then gasp, grin turning wider.

"oh my god," you mutter, "geto senpai and iori senpai are gonna lose so much money to her. them two never thought you could ever say 'i love you' to me, did you know that? oh my god... i kind of feel bad for those two."

the gleeful expression you're wearing tells your boyfriend otherwise - choosing to ignore it, he throws you a smirk. "well, i don't. those two people shouldn't have doubted me. i'm the one and only gojo satoru," he proclaims, puffing his chest out a bit, "of course, I'll be successful in my mission of getting you to notice my love for you."

"nah, i don't think so," you shake your head the very next instant. lips into the most adoring curve he's ever seen on you - something which steals his retort away from him and makes him want to pinch his arm hard, to see if he's dreaming or not - you hum.

"you could confess your love to me, not 'cause you're gojo satoru. but because you're my 'toru and i'm your shortie... isn't it so?"

gojo thinks back to the time utilised in carefully drafting and finalizing the steps via which he can catch your eye, only to watch them not go the way planned.

gojo looks back to you, only to find your eyes trained on him, glitters of love in them unbelievably similar to those loud crackers bursting in his chest right now.

the young sorcerer runs a reverent finger down the side of your face.

"yeah, it is because you're my shortie and i'm your 'toru, sweetness," he whispers, "and we'll always stay this way, yeah?"

you reply by engraving the shape of your smile into his.

AND MY MAGNUM OPUS IS OVER, BESTIES!!! 🥳🥳😊

tysm once again for always showing me sm love and support, y'all 🥹🥹🥹 i cherish each and every one of u so so SO MUCH - plesae keep supporting me and my works the same way in the future too, my loves 🥹🥹❤️

masterlist

[seokmn]

pairing: seokmin x fem!reader

genre: fluff

wc: 0.4k words

warnings: mention of yn’s height, pet names

seokmin’s steps were a little bit slow, but you thought he was just admiring the view since youre doing the same thing, little did you know that his face expression was saying it all. his discomfort was quite clear.

“babe…” he said softly and you looked at him with a sweet smile, but your smile faded away when you noticed his expression. you squeezed his hand and got closer to him, “what’s wrong, minnie?”

“can we sit for a few minutes? yesterday i worked out my legs and now theyre sore” he pouted and you chuckled a little bit, cupping his face, “poor baby,” you pouted and tried to hide your smile, “lets go, i dont want you to suffer”

you walked to the nearby bench and seokmin sat down, but you didnt. “arent you going to sit down?” he patted the spot right next to him and you shook your head. “nah, im enjoying the view. plus, it makes me look taller than you and i looove that”

he laughed and placed his arms around your waist, bringing you so close that you found yourself standing between his legs. he looked up at you and rested his chin on your stomach. “oh yeah? then you really shouldnt sit down. gotta enjoy this very rare moment, you know?”

you rolled your eyes playfully, “anyways, what are our plans for today, shorty?”

“lets see..” he pretended to think hard, “we’ll enjoy a little bit here in the park and then at night we’re gonna-“ he stopped talking, wanting to make a little suspense. seokmin put his hand inside the pocket of his pants and took out two tickets, “watch that musical you were so excited about it”

you gasped at the sight of the two tickets for the musical in his hand, “i thought they sold out when you tried to buy it!” he chuckled and shook his head, “did you really believe that? babe, you think i, lee seokmin, wouldnt be able to buy tickets for a musical? specially the one that my queen wants to watch it so bad? i thought you knew me beter”

you smiled and leaned forward to give him a kiss, only to be stopped by his cap hitting your forehead, you leaned back with your hand on your forehead and laughed a little bit, “ouch!”. seokmin laughed as well, immediately standing up and removing your hand on your forehead to gently caress your forehead, trying to make the pain go away.

he took off his cap and put it on again, but this time backwards, “here, better now” he said softly as he held your chin and gave you a gentle and sweet kiss. once he broke the kiss, you smiled and looked up at him, “yea, much better.“

[desideriumwriter]

Anyone But You | Chapter 15

Summary: You decide to pretend that nothing happened the last day you stayed at the burrow, have an awkward conversation with Fred, and hear some bothersome rumors.

WC: 1.7k

A/N: another shortie! but this next chapter is gonna be messyyyyyy so lock in, also merry (late) christmas!

Series Masterlist | F.W Masterlist | Previous | Next | Navi

You left the night you kissed Fred. Deciding it would be the best to run away from the awkward tension for now. 

You could at least prepare for the tension that would be there when you got back to school.

Though you tried your best to prepare. You still weren’t ready.

On the express back to Hogwarts, you sat with Angelina and Katie. Angelina left a few times to go see George.

You did your best to act like nothing had happened between Fred and you. Pretending like you never cried to him, again, slept in his bed, cuddled him, and kissed him.

Trying to convince yourself none of that happened. You planned to do this for the rest of your time at school. Maybe your entire life too.

You avoided any possible subject that would lead to bringing up the twins. 

You laid down on your seat in your booth anytime the memories became too much, you slept most of the ride to avoid them.

The Start-Of-Term Feast wasn’t too awkward as you expected. 

Of course, Angelina wanted to sit by George, her new boyfriend. Katie and you followed along and sat with the twins.

Surprisingly, you were able to make conversation with the both of them. Fred especially.

It seemed he had the same plan as you, to pretend like nothing happened between you too during Spring break.

Nothing happened. No crying in his arms, no snuggling in bed, no close moments in the kitchen, no kissing.

That was the plan for the both of you. But it showed you were both still thinking of those moments through the quick glances and looks you shared with each other.

Katie nor Angelina had caught any of them, or at least hopefully they hadn’t. You just really wanted to get back to your dorm and away from all this tension.

The rest of the first years that were chattering in the corner went up to their dorms. Leaving the only remaining people in the common room being Fred and you.

Fred was on the sofa, sketching something on a piece of parchment, his face extremely focused, the tip of his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth. It was kind of cute.

You were sitting on the chair opposite from the red leather sofa. Feet sitting on the cushion beneath you, reading a book that was laid against your knees. You weren’t tired yet, but you hoped this would make you sleepy.

Yet, you couldn’t stop looking over at Fred. Not being able to focus on the words on the pages for more than a minute at most, your eyes kept darting up to the redhead across from you.

This time, you were the first to speak.

“Already working on a new shop idea?” You half-joked from behind your legs. Fred looked away from the paper.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. Just updating one of the firework ideas we had.” You hummed and nodded in response, looking back to your book.

“So, how was the rest of your break?” Fred spoke, going back to sketching.

“It was good. Fine. Yours?”

“Mine was good too.” Fred nodded. You wanted to scream, you were cringing in your skin at the amount of awkwardness between the two of you. 

You’d rather go back to him pissing you off than to deal with whatever this was for another minute.

You put your book down before blurting out your next few words.

“I…I missed you.” There’s no way those words just came out of your mouth. Your last year self would be gagging at the sight of this.

The sound of Fred’s quill scratching the paper ceased.

In your peripheral, you could see Fred look at you. Most likely some confused and surprised look on his face. 

You didn’t dare look at him, your eyes focused on fluttering flames from the fireplace.

“Yeah. I missed you too.” Fred took a minute before he spoke.

“I like you, Fred. More than I care to admit.“ Your eyes went wide at your sudden confession, wondering what the hell was making you say all this. 

“Oh. That’s…nice to hear.” Fred breathed out.

“I’ve been stopping myself from saying that for a while.” You let out a scoff of disbelief, looking down at your hands in your lap. 

The cogs were turning in Fred’s head, trying to figure out how to respond. You were unpredictable now that he wasn’t getting on your nerves, this was a struggle.

“What’s been stopping you?”

You opened your mouth and hesitated, then closed it. Waiting a moment before attempting to speak again.

“I don’t know. I think I’m just afraid.” You fiddled with your fingers.

 “Of what?” Fred pressed, you wished he wouldn't. You wished you never said anything at all.

“Of liking you too much.” There was a bigger word you could’ve used there instead of “like”, you were afraid to say that one too. 

You were denying that you felt that strongly.

“What’s so bad about that?” Fred shrugged, you hesitated to speak.

“I don’t know. It just feels…wrong.” You scratched at your arm. 

“Nothing wrong with someone being likable. You’re likable, surprisingly.” He teased, it earned a breathy chuckle out of you.

“Look at us, being friends and all nice to each other. After all the times I’ve been an asshole to you.” You let out a guilty smile as you finally looked up at him.

"I’ve never cared about any of that. I'm just glad we're not at each other's throats any more.” Fred shrugged, giving you such a heartwarming smile as he began to gather his things.

God, why was he so sweet? Why was he so sweet to you, out of all people?

“I also realized I never said thank you for…everything really. Getting me out of the crowd during the attack, the gifts, inviting me over.” You rubbed your hands down your face, the realization and guilt eating you alive.

“Thank you. For being so nice to me, I really don’t think I deserved any of it after how I’ve treated you.” You let out a nervous laugh, not finding anything amusing, just nervous as hell.

“Maybe, I think you’re just too pretty for me to be mean to. Goodnight, Y/N.” Fred said as he stood up, leaving the room and going up to his dorm before you could even fully process what he just said.

You guess your impulsive confession led to one from him as well.

You really tried not to be stuck on Fred’s words for the rest of the night, or next few days. He called you pretty. It made your chest tighten.

Things moved on normally, Fred and you were good enough at acting as if nothing happened between you to the point where it felt like nothing actually did. Though deep down, you both still could remember what your lips fell like pressed together.

Katie and Angelina, nor George or Lee ever caught on to those occasional glances. Actually, you wondered if George was ever told about it. George and him are twin brothers, of course they tell each other everything. He definitely knew.

You tried not to dwell on the thought of that as well.

You and Fred carried on with the act, talking to each other as if that secret yearning didn’t return in both your chests.

Later on, you started to believe Fred was moving on, or had moved on. His eyes didn’t linger on your face for too long anymore, he didn’t shoot those glances with a certain emotion behind them, maybe he’d just gotten good at pretending. Maybe he had moved on. Deep down, you really hoped it wasn’t the second possibility, you’d never admit that though.

Maybe Katie and Angelina not catching on wasn’t the best thing. 

Sure, they were already suspicious of your true feelings about Fred. But as of now, they had no idea that anything more than sharing a bed had happened.

Angelina and Katie walked together into your shared dorm, coming back from Quidditch practice tired, Angelina falling onto her bed as Katie was next to her, leaning on the nightstand. They greeted you and you looked up from your hunched over position above your textbook, seeing the lingering smirks on both girls' faces.

“Hey, what’s with the look?” You smiled and let out a confused laugh.

“I heard that Alicia has her eyes on someone.” Angelina sang, crossing her legs lazily over each other on her bed.

“Spinnet? No way, who?” You sat up straight, excited to hear gossip.

“Freddie Weasley.” Angelina grimaced, as if it pained her to say it. There was a strange twist in your stomach. 

This was probably another quip to try and get them to prove you had feelings for Fred, they wanted to see you jealous and then use it as evidence of you liking him.

“He’s definitely been eyeing her back too.” Katie whispered, as if she’d get caught saying it at a normal volume. There was a strange twist in your stomach. You made an unbothered face, playing it off.

“Fred can have his eyes for anyone he wants, it’s none of my concern.” You shrugged. Trying to ignore the feeling of a pit growing into your stomach.

“They were all over each other today. They’ve definitely got something going on.” Angelina let out a giggle, but then it faded when she caught your excited smile falter and go away, you swallowed and looked back down at your book.

“Leanne swore she saw them kissing in the-“ Katie was cut off by Angelina’s elbow hitting her in her side, Angelina widened her eyes at her for a second. Katie got the memo.

“That’s just a rumor though. She was probably just being dramatic, you know how she can be.” Katie let out a fake cough.

“It’s fine, really, I don’t care. Plus I don’t want the image of Fred shoving his tongue down a girl's throat. Or really the image of anybody doing that.” You scoffed, closing your textbook.

You hated that you cared. That you wanted to know if there was really something going on between Fred and Alicia.

You despised that twisting feeling in your stomach when you saw them talking in the hall. The way it twisted more when Alicia grazed her hand down his arm.

You were excited when Lee invited you to a party at his house that following weekend. Knowing that Katie and Angelina were going with made you comfortable.

It felt as if all that excitement was all wiped away when you heard Alicia ask Fred:

“You’re going to Lee's party this Saturday, right?”

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