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#HIS EYES ARE SO TWINKLY
vigilanteh · 10 months
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Rawr I'm gonna eat him
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Dimples😍😍😍😍😍😍
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stxrshxpxd · 9 months
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i literally need him inside of me but like under my skin in my veins hugging my bones
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taegularities · 2 months
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why are some armys the sweetest ppl everrrrr :')
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ghosts-cyphera · 6 months
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pornstar! ghost who buys u cute little underwear sets for every scene u do together ?? he says it doesn’t mean anything but in reality he spent hours trying to pick out the nicest colours n fit for u <33
18+; mdni / suggestive fluff / pornstar!ghost x fem!reader; masterlist here ♡
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ghost's foot drummed against the ground as he studied the boutique from the street. the window displays were decorated with flower arrangements and expensive-looking cotton clouds, among which golden hangers displayed the most intricate sets of lingerie he had ever seen.
fitting for you.
you, who he knew—no matter what kind of a scene you were shooting—liked to feel beautiful on set. beautiful just to be adored and worshipped: to be made love to, or beautiful to be turned messy: to be fucked and made to feel used. that touch of something pure was always there when you showed up for work, day after day with a sparkle in your eyes.
with a warm chuckle, ghost stepped inside. 
everything about the boutique reminded him of a candy store. the colors, the details, and even the scent of something sweet were all tugging the corners of his lips into a warm smile.
he was utterly out of his comfort zone, but fuck, did it also make him feel all sorts of fucking thrilled. 
you’d love the place to bits.
“shopping with a special someone in mind?” 
the words flowed from the tongue of a sales assistant: a twinkly-eyed woman whose arms spread in a greeting as she closed the distance to him. “a partner, perhaps?”
bloody hell.
“oh, no—err—,” ghost cursed under his breath as he let out a deep laugh. “just a friend, really.”
“that’s one lucky friend right there,” she chuckled. “we carry a wide range of sizes and models for all body types, but if there’s any chance that you’d happen to know their measurements, that would—“
“yeah. of course. yeah, I’ve got—,” his finger slid into the pocket of his jacket, and he pulled out a neatly folded note that he handed to the assistant with a grin. “I—err—asked her stylist.”
“your friend is in the show business, is she?” the assistant mused as she unfolded the paper—a touch of warm amusement on her features as her eyes scanned the handwriting. “perfect. I see that they’ve included everything we need for finding the—,” she paused, her brows rising as a bright smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “you really did come prepared, huh?”
“yeah, I’ve got val to thank for that,” he let out a laugh as his gaze traveled across the store. everything about the space screamed luxury, from the velvet couches to the tall windows and the complimentary champagne that the assistant—nila, she introduced herself—was now offering him.
yet with a shake of his head and a polite smile ghost declined the drink, all due to the spark of curiosity prickling under his skin.
while he was not usually a man to display his feelings and emotions publicly, as his feet now led him towards a stand in the middle of the store, he knew there was no use in trying to bite down his smile. 
for on a round stand, surrounding a tall flower-arrangement, half a dozen sets of lingerie were gently placed: each of them damn near handcrafted to you.
their colors, cuts, and details were all you.
“seems like something’s stood out," nila’s voice was warm as she stepped to him.
“she’ll call me a bloody stalker for knowing her this damn well, but these—,” ghost let out a warm chuckle as he nodded his head, “yeah. she’d feel fuckin’ beautiful in these.”
“you really do know her,” she peered up at him, much in the same way that he was used to with other women. yet what came to her, in her eyes was nothing but genuine curiosity: warmth not towards ghost, but towards you. “she’s really lucky to have someone like that.”
“it’s really fuckin’ me who’s gotten lucky,” despite the whisper of a smile on his features, with his words his voice dipped ever so slightly. “she’s the best thing I’ve ever—,” he wet his lips with a chuckle. “it’s the way she makes you feel seen. special. like you—“ he shook his head. “fuckin’ hell do I know. never really been good with words.”
“if even a fraction of that glimmer in your eyes is visible when you look at her—,” nila arched an amused brow. “believe me, she knows.”
“rather she didn’t.”
“stuck on that stage, huh?”
ghost grinned, wetting his lips as a touch of warmth rose to play on his cheeks. “alright, enough of that, yeah? back to the—,” he gestured towards the stand with a chuckle, “fuckin’ lingerie, eh?”
the next two hours flew by on wings as ghost gathered a selection of pieces for you. each one was carefully picked not only to bring attention to all those things he knew you loved about yourself but also all those small parts that you were still learning to embrace. all of it—he hoped—to help you see yourself in the way that he saw you.
nothing short of perfect.
“the last one,” nila smiled as her fingers finished tying off one last satin bow: one just as perfect as the previous dozen had been. “and we’re all done.”
ghost wet his lips with a chuckle as he reached for the gift box. “is it weird to suddenly feel fuckin' nervous?”
“a little,” she smiled. “you really don't need to worry,” she arched a carefully amused brow, “ghost.”
his gaze found hers, his brows furrowing slightly. “you know who—“
“from the moment you walked in.” nila’s laugh was soft as she leaned against the counter: her amusement now reflecting back on the features of ghost.
“and so, you know who these are for, eh?"
“it’s just a wild guess, really.” her grin turned into a careful smile. “she’s beautiful. don’t—,” she shook her head. “don’t let her go.”
“fan of hers?”
“sexual awakening of sorts.”
“fuckin’ understandable,” ghost’s laugh was breathless as he pushed off the counter, his hands now filled with gift bags. “thank you, eh? for all your help.”
“of course,” she beamed—only for her eyes to widen with a sudden realization. “hold up! I almost forgot—“ she reached over the counter to wrap her fingers around the note of measurements scribbled down by valeria. 
“believe me,” nila laughed as she slipped it into the pocket of ghost’s jacket. “you don’t want to lose it.”
it was not until he had made his way home that he finally fished out the folded paper: the one that did not only include the measurements of your bust, hips, and waist. scribbled at the bottom was also an additional message, accompanied by a small hand-drawn picture.
on the off chance that one of these days you’ll go and admit just how down bad you are for her. – V
a measurement, and next to it, a drawing of a ring.
fuckin’ hell.
ghost blinked his eyes shut with his laugh, deep and warm.
for now, the small pile of gift-wrapped boxes would have to do, yet as he walked to his bookshelf and slid the note between the pages of his favorite book… 
that’s when he promised himself to never lose that small paper, and with it, the reminder to hold onto you, too.
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a/n: aah my wee cheeks are literally cramping from how brightly I smiled when writing this, haha. too cute? nah, we don’t know her. love you all! / pornstar!ghost masterlist / my inbox is still so very open for all your thoughts about him. 💌
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celestialwhoree · 2 months
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🍒🤍
Simon and his civilian, girly, pink, hyperfem gf thots
He sees her sat at the bar of the 141s local, which admittedly is seedy and kind of gross. Not the place he's want his hypothetical sister, daughter or niece to be hanging out alone.
Based on that, he can only assume that she's waiting for someone, maybe a date considering how dolled up she is in her pretty blush pink dress, the satin ribbon holding the top parts of her hair out of her face.
When she blinks over at him with alluring doll eyes, the date idea goes out the window, and the guys are all egging him on to go buy her a drink, seeing as he almost never tries it on with girls.
When her straw reaches the bare bottom of her glass, he swallows his pride and makes his way over, his burly, black clad body so at odds with her own, practically doll like next to his.
The guys never expect them to go any further, but when he (weirdly) invites them for dinner at his flat and she's pottering happily around the kitchen cooking up a storm, Kyle has to smack Johnny upside the head before he can burst out laughing.
She's so utterly lovely to them all, taking them in like the stray cats she also frequently finds herself bringing back to she and Simons place 'just to take to the shelter'. They currently have four scrawny kittens who totter around her feet wherever she goes like her own little feline entourage.
Simon explains that she's some kind of ridiculously smart child psychotherapist or something along those lines, hence why she's so welcoming, bubbly and generally wonderful.
He knew he was whipped when she got him a really fancy pocket knife for Christmas, kitted out with all the things one could ever need. He didn't ask where she got it or how much she had to cough up for a knife of that quality. He just handed her a stack of presents bigger than her head, piled full of pretty floral lingerie, makeup and a teeny box on top containing a twinkly 'SR' pendant and a little diamond charm.
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writingouthere · 1 month
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singlemom!reader x neighbor!Sukuna. Valentine's day special. Sukuna gets your daughter to help him out on your first Valentine's Day together
cw: none really, maybe too much fluff?
"Alright, sweetheart, you got this?"
Your daughter nods her head, her determination so reminiscent of you that Sukuna falls a little harder in love.
"When I say, princess, you're going to...."
"Come to the livin' room with the box," your daughter recites faithfully and Sukuna nods.
"And you know what you're going to say to mommy?"
Bug nods again and he's kissing her cheek in adoration when he hears an annoying groan.
"Oh my god, how much longer is this going to take," Yuuji complains while he holds up one end of a long string of twinkly lights, one of his uninvited friends holding the other end.
"I can't believe getting pussy has turned you into this," Fugisaki says from where she is arranging some flowers on the coffee table, shaking her head as if she knows a fucking thing.
"It is a lot."
He says less, but somehow Fushiguro's condemnation of his behavior pisses him off the most. Sukuna picks up his daughter while he walks over to where his little brother is on a ladder.
"If you mother fuckers don't stop cursing around my kid, I'm going to knock you on your fucking asses."
Yuuji looks down at him, unconcerned. "Dude, you just cursed like a million times."
Sukuna kicks over the ladder and Yuuji falls, bringing down the lights him and Fushiguro had been hanging for the past half hour.
The other boy looks over at them, green eyes furious. "For fuck's sake-"
"Oy, what did I say about swearing in front of my fucking kid?"
"I can't believe you're about to get a woman to marry you," Fugisaki says, standing up and tilting her head to look over the decor that wasn't just ripped from the walls.
"I will call Zenin and tell her that you cried while stalking her instagram when she had that away tournament when you were on a break."
Her head snaps up and she narrows her eyes at him. "You wouldn't."
"I recorded a video," Sukuna says, pulling out his phone while Bug giggles on his hip,
"If you do that, I'll tell your girlfriend that you wrecked her apartment so she'd have no choice but to move in with you," she tells him, crossing her arms over her chest.
Sukuna turns to glare at Yuuji. "Snitch!"
"Don't do sketchy ass shit and I won't have things to snitch on," Yuuji says, rubbing his back which had landed right on the floor.
Sukuna and Kugisaki stare at one another until he puts the phone away and she looks smug.
"Finish decorating and then get the fuck out of my apartment."
"Fuck!"
Everyone turns to look at the little girl who had just said her first swear word. Fushiguro is pressing his fingers to his temple like he's the one who's going to get in trouble for this. Yuuji and Kugisaki look delighted.
"You're so fucked, dude," the brat tells him and Sukuna sighs.
"Let's go practice in the other room, sweetheart," Sukuna says to his now fouled mouth daughter. "We'll let the help finish up over here."
Sukuna ignores three separate cries of "Hey!" and hopes that your daughter drops her newly acquired vocab before you come home.
"Alright, when I say princess...."
---------
When you walk in and see the apartment, you look excited if a little suspicious.
"What's all this? I thought you said Valentine's Day was a corporate conspiracy to take money from losers who should have been weeded out from natural selection."
"This isn't about Valentine's Day," Sukuna tells you and you hum as you take off your jacket and put your stuff by the door.
"Okay, just a coincidence then?"
"Sort of," Sukuna concedes and then pulls you towards him, your eyes looking around at the twinkle lights that have been placed all around your living room. There's flowers on the table, not roses because he wasn't corny, he'd gotten a mix of your favorites and you look pleased in that way you did whenever he did something that showed he paid attention to you.
"So what's the special occasion?"
The long answer was, it was in part because of Valentine's Day, but it was something he'd known was coming since the day he'd met you.
Bug had written many cards in the week leading up to Valentine's Day, everyone in your lives had gotten one. Sukuna had been proud to have received more than anyone, aside from you. Uncle Yuuji had pouted he'd only gotten two until Kugisaki had punched him, saying she'd only gotten one and she'd had to share it with her girlfriend.
The card that had started this whole chain of events had looked like any other. A heart clearly cut out by an adult, colored varying shades of red and green, Bug's favorite colors at the moment. On the inside, it had said, Happy Valentine's Day Daddy!
Happy Valentine's Day Daddy.
The words had been written by an adult, but Sukuna wondered what had happened to get them there. Had the teachers made the same card for everyone, which seemed rather obtuse even to him, or had Bug requested a card for him. For her dad.
Bug still called him 'Kuna, and he didn't mind. She was young and you had only been together for a little over a month. He didn't expect things to change overnight and considering the little girl had already lost one father, he could understand if she was hesitant to use the title again.
But it was there, in writing, and Sukuna just couldn't wait anymore for it to be true.
He had been so pleased that the two of you were officially together that he hadn't pushed for more. He had thrown around words like forever and wife, more than once and you seemed receptive but those words had stayed mostly in the bedroom.
The two of you were even trying for a baby, although that was another thing that remained mostly behind closed doors. Sukuna hadn't given this part of his plan much thought, but he had assumed that once you were pregnant, it would be a quick matter to convince you to marry him and put his ring on you so you could never escape him with a child and the law to bond you two together.
Getting you knocked up could take months though, even giving it as much effort as he was every night and he didn't want to wait anymore. He wanted to call you his wife and Bug his daughter. He wanted to call you his in front of the few people he didn't actively hate and he wanted to know that when he woke up, you would be there too.
So here he was, in the apartment you both shared, holding your hands in his, seeing what they looked like without his ring for hopefully the last time.
"Sukuna?"
"I'm getting there, be patient," he told you leaning in to kiss you. You responded eagerly and you leaned up so he had easier access to your mouth. Keeping in mind the little girl definitely listening in, he pulled back. He took a second to appreciate the way your eyes were almost hazy with desire and the way your lips look freshly kissed.
"I need to be the impatient one tonight," he says and he gives you one last kiss just to savor you. "I can't wait any longer, princess."
There's a quick pause and you look a little confused, mostly curious, when the door to your daughter's room opens and your little girl steps out. She's dressed in a beautiful white dress. She'd picked it out when Sukuna had taken her shopping the day before and she had a crown of flowers on top of her head, courtesy of Kugisaki who Sukuna maybe hated a little less right now.
You smiled at your daughter and held out your arms for her to come to you and she did, holding her dress up as she ran to you.
"You look like a princess, my love."
"Imma princess, just like you," she says and you look at Sukuna fondly.
"Guess that's why we got such a charming prince with us, right?" You tease and Sukuna doesn't care how corny it is, this moment is just for your little family anyway.
"We got something to ask you," Sukuna says and he nods at Bug, who opens up a sparkly purse.
"You do?" You ask and he sees realization start to sink in. "Sukuna-"
Bug pulls out the box and holds it out to you. "Mommy, can 'Kuna be my daddy now?"
You look at the box and then look at Sukuna.
"Is this-?"
"Open it and see," Sukuna tells you and he reaches over to grab your daughter who giggles and he holds her tighter as she looks over at you.
You open the box and in it sits a ring. Sukuna had bought it before the two of you even started dating. He had seen it in the window of a shop and just known it would look beautiful on you. You bite your lip and your eyes begin to well up with tears.
"So? What do you say, princess? Marry me?"
You're crying now and he sees Bug start to get a little worried before you're smiling and leaning over to kiss Sukuna, your hands holding his face to yours. He grins against your mouth and uses his free arm to pull you closer, his whole world in his arms now.
"Yes, yes, yes!"
"Yay!" Bug cheers and you both kiss her face as she giggles and pushes against you.
You let Sukuna pull the ring from the box and put it on your finger, where it will stay forever if he has anything to say about it. You look at him in confusion when he holds his own hand out.
"There's another ring in that box for a reason," he teases and you look at him in confusion.
"Isn't this a ring for after you're married?"
"Well there aren't a lot of pretty engagement rings for men, but if you get to walk around showing everyone you're mine until we tie the knot, I want everyone to see I'm yours."
You start crying all over again and you put the golden band on Sukuna's finger and he can't help the pride he feels at the sight of it. The knowledge that everyone will look at it and know he belongs to you.
"We don't need to rush the wedding, it can be up to you," he tells you. "I'll marry you in the summer or the fall, or we can go to City Hall tomorrow and take the kid to honeymoon at Disney for all I care. I just want to be married to you."
You smile and then you look up at him shyly. 'Well we probably shouldn't wait too long."
He raises an eyebrow and then you put your hand on your stomach.
"We should probably do it before I start to show, don't you think?"
That's the end! Are you actually pregnant or are you just being cautious, who knows! Hope you enjoyed, I wrote like 2,000 words, deleted all of it after I wrote the scene at the beginning of this one. Is that me learning how to edit?
Appreciate all of your support always and hope you know you are loved and amazing today!
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madelynraemunson · 2 months
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author’s note: no but hiking/nature-walk sex with eddie has me in HEAT. also my bf and i like to fuck on hikes sometimes so this is inspired by that concept hehe
cw: 18+ , semi-public sex, THE HANKY STAYS ONNN, unprotected p in v, dom!eddie, sub!fem!reader, cream pie
scenic route
[wc: 421 words]
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“can’t believe how loud you’re being for me right now. you want us to get caught, is that it?”
panties to your knees, eyes rolled up to the misty clouds, you’re taking eddie from behind during a “nature walk” he snuck you off to, belly-first and sprawled out onto a nearby log.
“eddie,” you whimper. “fuckeddiefuckeddie fuck…harder, harder, harder!”
he quickens his pace and you’re a mewling mess. you hear him ask you, “how’d that one feel?” followed by a “like that?”, and a “yeah, like that huh?” but you’re already far too fucked out to answer him.
“look at you,” eddie tsks, shaking his head to admire your beauty. “sweet girl getting fucked all silly, she can’t even speak.”
your pussy loves his knowledgeable cock so much, judging by the way it hugs itself so tightly around him, milking him for everything he’s got, and lubricating his thick shaft with the slick of that spongey heat.
“fucking shit…” you whisper as you near your edge. “‘don’t care if people see. need you to keep fucking me, please, eddie…”
knowing you’re close, eddie is further incentivized. his grip on you loosens briefly as he restrains your arms with one hand and reaches for his handkerchief with the other.
smirking to himself, eddie rolls the hanky neatly into a long thin rectangle before nestling it snugly between your teeth. using the leverage he now has, he tugs you up towards him.
“mm!” you cry out in pleasure.
your burning core clenches around eddie as you feel him twitch inside of you. the aggressive sounds of slapping skin echo loudly across the bare wooden field. after a few more knee-buckling pumps into what feels like the base of your cervix, eddie paints your guts with his hot cum, the overflow dripping down your legs and onto the dewy blades of grass beneath.
letting you ride out your orgasm, eddie pulls your lace panties back up for you and straightens out any wrinkles on your skirt you may have acquired throughout the ordeal. when you come to, you can only beam up at him in awe.
“how was that, baby?”
“fucking amazing,” you rave as you and your twinkly eyes lean into him. “you always know how to fuck me so good.”
he issues you a tender kiss on the forehead before standing you back up, smacking his large palm across your ass. it causes you to whimper once again.
“and that,” eddie announces. “is why i like taking the scenic route.”
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leona-florianova · 5 months
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There had been so much in-fighting between the various orders of wizardry in recent years that, just for once, the senior wizards had agreed that what the University needed was a period of stability, so that they could get on with their scheming and intriguing in peace and quiet for a few months. A search of the records turned up Ridcully the Brown who, after becoming a Seventh Level mage at the incredibly young age of twenty-seven, had quit the University in order to look after his family's estates deep in the country.
He looked ideal.
'Just the chap,' they all said. 'Clean sweep. New broom. A country wizard. Back to the thingumajigs, the roots of wizardry. Jolly old boy with a pipe and twinkly eyes. Sort of chap who can tell one herb from another, roams-the-high-forest-with-every-beast-his-brother kind of thing. Sleeps under the stars, like as not. Knows what the wind is saying, we shouldn't wonder. Got a name for all the trees, you can bank on it. Speaks to the birds, too.'
A messenger had been sent. Ridcully the Brown had sighed, cursed a bit, found his staff in the kitchen garden where it had been supporting a scarecrow, and had set out.
'And if he's any problem,' the wizards had added, in the privacy of their own heads, 'anyone who talks to trees should be no trouble to get rid of.'
And then he'd arrived, and it turned out that Ridcully the Brown did speak to the birds. In fact he shouted at birds, and what he normally shouted was, 'Winged you, yer bastard!'
The beasts of the field and fowls of the air did know Ridcully the Brown. They'd got so good at patternrecognition that, for a radius of about twenty miles around the Ridcully estates, they'd run, hide or in desperate cases attack violently at the mere sight of a pointy hat.
-Moving Pictures (Terry Pratchett)
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number1jeonginstan · 13 days
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perv!Jisung x afab!reader minors dni; 18+ warnings: orall (f! and m! receiving), dry humping, unprotected sex, cumming inside wc: 1.2k (straight smut...) part 1-ish (don't have to read, but like would recommend!!)
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“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to” he whined as you pressed your ass against his crotch, feeling the way his hard-on pressed into you. 
“Really Sungie? Don’t you think I would find my underwear in your drawer?” you chuckled, turning around so you could meet him face to face. The fairy lights twinkling throughout your room allowed you to see his disheveled hair. It slightly stuck to his forehead, a telltale sign that he was humping you for a while.  
“Look at you, so pathetic” you grinned, bringing your hand up to his forehead, brushing the hair to the side to get a good look at his face, his cheeks ridden with a red blush. You could feel his embarrassment radiating off of him, but it didn’t stop you. 
“Can’t believe you were trying to cum without making me cum first, what a bad little boy” you pouted before slowly getting on top of him, your hands on your chest as you placed your clothed cunt against his hard-on. 
“I’m sorry” he whined as you rolled your hips on his cock, your head thrown back due to the friction as he whined underneath you, throwing his head to the side. 
“Want to take care of me baby?” you asked, your hand moving from his chest to his chin, pulling it towards you so he looked directly at you. 
“Yes, wanna be a good boy, want to be such a good boy for you” he whined, rutting his pelvis up into you, trying to get any sort of friction to help him get off. He was so hard that it was painful. 
“Then are you going to make me cum?” you whispered before bending down and kissing his lips, your tongue running across it before pulling away. 
“Yes, please want to make you cum for me, please let me” he sighed, his body writhing underneath you. “Fine, think you can make me cum with that pretty little mouth that’s constantly running baby?” 
He nodded, his eyes fixated as you got up from him, he whined at the loss of contact, missing your pussy on him. “Fuck baby, can’t even wait a second can you?” you pouted before pulling down your shorts. 
“Fuckkkk” he groaned, watching your pretty pussy come in front of him, enamored by your wet folds as you placed your hands on your headboard, sitting directly above his face. 
He wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you closer to his face as he licked a fat stripe up your cunt. 
“Holy shit, this is the best thing I’ve ever tasted” he moaned into your cunt before attacking your clit. “Please ride my face, want to make you cum like a good boy” he groaned into your folds, his tongue slowly pressing into your hole, causing you to throw your head back. 
Your moans filled up the room as he ate you like a man starved. He didn’t stop, his tongue running against your folds, biting your clit slightly, licking every spot of your pussy, not letting a singular centimeter go unattended to. 
“Fuck Sungie” you whined as you pressed yourself down on his face. He didn’t care that he was suffocating, he was suffocating on your pussy. The same pussy that he had gotten off to almost every night. The same one he imagined cumming inside for months. 
You felt yourself getting close. His eagerness not letting you even take a singular breath, he kept attacking your pussy as you felt his body shift underneath you. He was humping the air, trying to relieve himself of the pain of his hard cock. 
“Poor Sungie needs to cum so bad, can’t even wait for me to –hnggg– cum” you whined as his tongue fucked your hole, his fingers slowly curling around your thighs opening you even wider for him. 
“Want you to cum” he muttered into your pussy, the vibrations causing you to cum on his face. Your essence to cover the bottom half, his stubble glistening with your cum under the twinkly of your lights. 
“Please, want to cum” he begged, his eyes pleading for any sort of relief. “Who am I to deny you after you made me cum? My good little boy” you giggled, kissing his lips before finally making your way to his cock. 
You pressed your hand against his sweats, realizing that he wasn’t wearing boxers underneath as you noticed the wet patch on his gray sweatpants. You slowly pulled them down, watching the way his cock hit his stomach. 
It wasn’t girthy, but it was so long, it was going to hit all the right spots inside of you. The way his cock was leaking, the redness of the tip, it was the prettiest cock you had ever seen. 
“Sungie, if I knew you had such a pretty cock, I would have fucked you months ago” You grinned before bending down, licking from his balls to the tip of his cock, causing him to shudder. 
“No, want to be in you, want to cum in you” he whined as you sucked at his tip. You removed yourself with a pop, giving into his request as you slowly lined your pussy with his cock, one hand on his chest and one guiding his dick inside of you. 
“Want me to ride you, baby? Want me to make you feel good” you whispered as you slowly pushed yourself down onto him. 
“Yes, fuck want you so bad” he whined as you slowly began to ride him. You began to bounce on his cock. You knew he was close by the way he was thrusting up into you at a fast pace, not caring about your pleasure at this point, which was fine with you. 
“Fuck, feels so good, best pussy I’ve ever had” he moaned underneath you his head tossed to the side. You could see a bit of drool leaving his lips, which you would have found disgusting if it was any other man, but he looked so good, you overlooked it. 
You could feel yourself reaching your own high, bringing your hand down to rub your own clit as you bent down to capture Jisung’s lips with your own. The way your cunt was convulsing on his cock was all he needed to cum inside of you, without any warning. 
His cum filled your walls as he began to plead for you to cum. “please, please, please,” he screamed into your mouth, begging. “Such a good cock” you whined as you finally felt yourself reach your high. Your walls clenching around his softening cock. 
You rode out the two of your’s highs, bouncing on his cock until your legs gave out, causing you to fall on his chest. 
“Next time you try and hump me in my sleep, be less obvious” you whispered before falling asleep on his chest.
Was what just happened real, he thought to himself, tracing his hands down your clothed back and to your ass as he felt his cock slowly start to come back to life in your pussy again. 
He just needed to be less obvious this time, didn’t he? 
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pixieknj · 8 months
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strawberries n cream 🍓⊹。໒꒱ | JJK (18+)
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♡chapters: one / two / three / four / drabble♡
​⊹🍓series ❤︎ ˚ ༘ ⋆
❥pairing: jungkook X black!reader
❥genre: smut, ex lovers/fwb
❥summary: jungkook’s late night visit to your dorm 🍓…
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❥!!warnings!!: rough sex/fight sex, detailed smut, some toxicity, crying during sex [nothing sad lol], mention of choking, hickeys, fingerprint bruise
❥other warnings: sexual intercourse, raw sex [please use protection!], oral [fem receiving], some fingering, jungkook is so p^ssy whipped and clingy, puppy jk, princess nickname, pillow princess reader [she just wants her nut okay🎀], mention of weed, comparing brown coochie to food 🍫🍓🍦, featuring jimin, POV switching
❥word count: 3.9k
-inspo: seven by jungkook ft latto, gif from jjkgif on twitter, pics from Pinterest
-author’s note: Seven made me push my other wips to the side and write this soo here it is. I love the song and how Jungkook’s been lately so I was deeply motivated. I am still working on updates, but thank you for waiting. I also have some fic recs to share that I’ve kept. I hope you enjoy this for now💕!
-dedicated to: @maltate123 @mayawastaken26 @lelewright1234 @frogs2857 💗 they’ve been motivating me so much to finish my drop, thank you! and @jkoo-njoo because I miss them 🫶🏽
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Jungkook showing up at your dorm at 2:30 in the morning brandishing a My Melody plushie and your favorite snacks further enacts the futility of Jimin’s ability to keep his mouth shut.
What other reason would your ex-slash-situationship be knocking at your door with big eyes and damp, curly hair? With how dramatic Jungkook is, anyone else would have thought he trekked through the light drizzle outside to come comfort or grieve with you. But you know why he’s begging you to let him in and accept his gifts of… proof.
You don’t say anything as you leave the door open for him and go back to making your fruit bowl on the counter. You’d finished showering and doing your skincare routine to prepare for bed, but you’ve been too restless to sleep, hence, why you’re eating. Jungkook appearing out of nowhere looking like that isn’t going to help either.
The sound of him closing and locking the door and then slipping out of his shoes has your skin burning in goosebumps. Only now do you notice your frilly, revealing pajama set when Jungkook sets down his offerings and comes up behind you to hug your waist.
“Princess.”
You ignore him, arranging your strawberries and kiwis on top of the pineapples in the bowl. Being mean doesn’t seem to bother him much at first, since he tightens his grip and steps closer, shamelessly sniffing your sweet skin and watching you make your late night snack. His chin digs into your shoulder until you finish off the dessert with whipped cream.
“Princess,” he calls again. But you shake him off and eat a strawberry slice. You’re supposed to be relaxing. It’s becoming impossible with his breath on your neck and the beat of his heart on your spine.
“Jungkook, seriously…” You scold, finally turning around and looking at him head on. “You never understand what space is.”
Jungkook’s eyes are all twinkly and round when he sees you, despite the reddening in them that you know came from smoking weed. You can faintly smell it on his gray hoodie as he presses you up against the counter.
“I’m clingy, so what?” He mumbles. “Why are you ignoring me?”
“I’m not ignoring you,” you lie.
“Missed calls, missed texts… Telling Jimin you need to stay away from me,” Jungkook lists off. “Did I do something wrong?”
Urgh. You knew it was Jimin. A best friend playing both sides in between meant anything you said would make it to the other ear. You could just picture him with the nastiest grin ready to tell your ex all you’ve said about him. Jimin does it to you, too, smiley and hyped about news he needs to tell you about Jungkook.
“Not everything is about you,” you sigh. The way he’s confronting you has suddenly decreased your appetite and replaced it with nervous adrenaline. “Why are you even here?”
“I can’t come check on you now?”
You scoff. “That’s not why you’re here.”
Jungkook licks the piercings in his bottom lip, a solemn expression of that of a puppy’s gracing his boyish features. His head falls to your shoulder in slight shame.
“You think that lowly of me?” He asks. “That I’d walk all this way in the rain for some ass?”
“You’ve done much worse,” you remind him, pushing him off so you don’t have to hear him manipulate his way back into your underwear. Not that it takes him much effort. You think he talks how he does because it makes his dick hard and easier for you to succumb.
Jungkook clicks his tongue at how you read him but follows closely behind you to the other side of the dorm, plopping down onto your bed right next to you like it’s his own and cuddling one of your many Sanrio plushies, half that he bought. You roll your eyes and grab the remote to put on old cartoons, realizing he’s not going anywhere.
Leave it to Jeon Jungkook to be the attached and sickeningly pathetic lover boy of an ex. You hate that he still wants to see you and hang out. You hate that he doesn’t disown you to other people and shit on your name. You hate that he holds onto the connection between you both like it’s his lifeline.
He treats you as you did when you were dating, and it fucking sucks. Even though you lost him, you still have him, and it eats at you that you pushed him away for shit he didn’t have anything to do with. It’s not fair how you’re treating him in return, and you know he deserves better.
Your mind isn’t in the right place to give itself to him like he wants. But your body is. Always.
So you only resist a little when he tugs you into his side, ensuing the push and pull of tonight’s theme. Undoubtedly, the best atmosphere for the best sex. Jungkook understands how he’ll have to play to get your tiny, lace panties down your legs.
Determined, obsessive, and just as hateful back to take control.
Jungkook caresses your skin for a while before he’s pulling you over him, hips pressed together and grabbing your wrists to keep you from fighting him.
“Just give it to me,” he grumbles against your neck, seeing no need to keep beating around the bush. “Don’t you know how bad I wanna fuck you?”
Of course you do. He shows it every time, acts like he can’t go a day without you being wrapped around him or he’ll go insane.
His mouth drags kisses down your jaw as if you’re his last everything and that he needs to prove to you he’s worthy by giving it his all. You briefly think about how deliciously bruised he’d have you in mere minutes when he starts teething at the spot on your neck, aiming to get your pussy drenched and inside of you as quick as possible. But you’re not stupid. Remembering why he’d came over.
“N-No marks.”
Jungkook pauses to lean back, chortling a “What?”
“Don’t give me a hickey.”
He blinks. “Why?”
Don’t you understand blooming little flowers on your flesh is his favorite foreplay for a reason…
You, however, hold his puppy dog eyes and state as seriously as you can, “I just want you to make me cum and then get out.”
Fuck, you’re being rude. But you couldn’t bring yourself to explain about your stupid dress and how you need your skin free of Jungkook’s stupid blemishes for your stupid date in less than 24 hours.
Hickeys mean someone is dicking you down. Hickeys mean you’re taken. You don’t want whoever to see Jungkook’s bruises on you and assume you have a lover.
And you’re positive he knows about it by how he tongues his cheek. Now you’ve pissed him off. He thought Jimin was half fucking with him when he mentioned you were seeing someone.
“Fine,” he huffs, maintaining a calm demeanor, and goes back to leaving open-mouthed kisses along your throat. Obeying your wishes and using more tongue than suction.
His plush lips still get you horny nonetheless. They feel cloud-like against your sternum and the nipple Jungkook frees to suck in between them. He’s already so set on giving you what you want, well-versed in what to do, even the promises of not actually fucking you could deter him.
His bedroom eyes have your thighs clenching as he leans up to unzip his hoodie like he means business, revealing a tank top and toned arms, sharp tattoos. There’s a gold chain around his neck that adds to the sneaky-link/boyfriend look, and you go to mush imagining how you’re flopping this whole situationship so bad.
But it’s okay. Jungkook is fucking it up just as much, for he’s kind of an asshole behind the doe eyes and really fucking crazy about you. Had to work on some anger issues, but that emotion didn’t help win you back the first time. Now, it’s hard to tell what either of you are doing anymore and why he can’t leave you alone.
He doesn’t want you to become just a girl he used to know. Never.
A pretty girl who loves getting her pussy ate any time of the day isn’t how he wants to remember you either, but how could he stop giving you princess treatment, treat you as anything but? You are his princess, and that for sure isn’t going to be taken away.
Jungkook’s jacket is discarded on the floor and so are your soaked, delicate panties after he tugs them down your ankles. He noisily whines at you spreading your legs for him, aware how all the sparkling shades of brown and the bit of pink on the inside makes him want to devour you whole.
Your skin smells of your strawberry shortcake body wash when he bends to suck on your inner thigh, unapologetically biting and marking there because he really can’t help it. He doesn’t believe you’ll let anyone near his prized possession out of respect anyways, no matter who your date is. This is wholeheartedly his pussy.
It’s why you don’t complain about him adding more onto those fading bruises and willingly hold out your tongue when he brings his fingers to your mouth to suck. He sucks on them after you for good measure, rubbing your clit for a second before sliding two inside.
A dimpled smirk graces his face as you nod your head back against the pillows and moan, grabbing his wrist.
“There she is.”
Jungkook takes a swipe of your cunt with his tongue and slides his fingers in further. Just to tease you with what you’re missing, because he knows you love being stuffed full by his cock over oral... So then he’s taking them away from you, pulling you closer by your hips and settling your thighs over his shoulders. And plunging tongue first into your pussy.
His lip piercings rub against your folds as he sucks and nibbles, stiffening his muscle whenever it nudges your swollen clit. There’s no strategy in mind when he goes down on you, so he’s everywhere, licking hard, more so focused on how good you taste and the wetness coating his mouth.
Jungkook groans as you run your fingers through his scalp and push his head closer, arching your hips in a rhythm he hazily matches. You whimper a “fuck” when he lets you take control of his tongue for a second, tilting your head and tightening your thighs around his neck.
“Right there,” you tell him, watching him eat you out like he can’t get enough, hungrily kissing your cunt like he would your lips. He groans back in acknowledgment, not risking speaking over your buildup. But you don’t want to suffocate him, knowing how dirty you play when you’re about to orgasm.
So you push his curly hair back over his forehead to give him some air, seeing him slowly blink up at you with his tongue assaulting your entrance. His brows angrily furrow and his eyes roll closed as if he’s lucid dreaming this, like he’s in his own world. With the addition of his breathy moans on your pussy, you’d think he was addicted.
Jungkook has you cumming in less than seven minutes from his ministrations, although he could have hung it out for hours if he really wanted to. Your sexy, quick orgasm is worth it with how you’re trying to ride out the high, your legs squeezing his head and tongue captive while your cum oozes.
It always amazes him how he can eat you til you cream your pretty pussy right before his eyes. In addition, the rich and saccharine taste of your essence competes with that of strawberries and cream.
Chocolate-covered strawberries and cream to be exact.
He feels the need to let you in on it, too, and forces his tongue into your mouth. You moan and kiss him back, licking the taste of yourself off your lips when he disconnects.
“You really want me to get out?” Jungkook questions, breathless. You can feel his dick against your leg.
You shake your head. “No…”
You can’t have dessert without dinner anyways, right? Why did you think you would be able to kick him out right after? Jungkook is a certified munch and eats cat the same way he fucks. How could you pass up another round?
“No? You want me to fuck you, princess?” Jungkook whispers, your cunt throbbing in new arousal at how he holds your eyes for confirmation.
“Yes. I want you to.”
Jungkook purposely takes his time to pull off his muscle shirt, enjoying how you start toying with your nipples while you watch him undress.
You swear his sleeper build is insane. Muscles and abs, pert chest littered in hickeys you gave him a few nights back. Going feral over that deep v-line of his as he undoes his belt and tugs his baggy jeans down.
You literally moan at the sight of his pretty dick slapping up against his abdomen. You want to swallow it down your throat til you can’t breathe and choke, but then you think about how giving him the best suck of his life isn’t exactly “leave me alone” behavior… None of this is.
Jungkook is left in his gold chain necklace as he repositions between your legs, and you are already about to tear up when he pulls your hips up on his waist for the angle and spits on you. Mixing it in with your past orgasm and then over the dusky head of his dick as lubricant.
“Jungkook…”
He’s taking too long admiring his tip tease between your folds. He looks down at you with a smug grin.
“You want it that bad? Just so you can cry?”
You shyly glance away at the taunt, feeling small underneath him and not as in much control. He has the upper hand for the rest of the night, and it’s going to be hell.
Jungkook digests your silence as submissiveness, and he dislikes that. He wants you to bark back, get feisty with him, and equally as pissed as he is about that date. You would be livid if he was putting his attention into another woman.
It is pure betrayal he feels when he presses himself to your entrance and pushes in all the way. No moment to adjust like he usually gives you. Just hard and raw cock kissing your cervix in one thrust.
“What’s your fucking problem?” You hiss at the sudden sting. It’s ridiculous that you try to hold him back.
“You’re my fucking problem.”
It comes out in a growl, and before you can ask him what the fuck he means by that, he’s gripping your thighs to push them to your torso, leaving you no choice but to wrap your arms around him and dig your nails into his back as he begins thrusting.
“Oh, fuckkk,” Jungkook whines in your ear. You’re tighter like this since he has to fuck you open and can feel you wetting his dick even more for easier slip. But he jerks his hips through the death grip you have around him that he’s sure he’s hitting your g-spot by how loud you’re getting.
His skin starts stinging from you scratching so sharply you draw blood, but he keeps going. You’re losing it, truly, grasping onto the back of his neck and shoulders to hold your ground as he fucks you hard into the mattress.
“I’m right here, princess,” he reassures you and pecks your lips. Your face is scrunched up in pure pleasure, mouth agape, eyes watering. “Feels good?”
You nod.
He knows it feels good, feels like you’re teetering between life and heaven.
“Yeah?”
“Y-Yes, yes, fuck, so good,” you loudly moan, palms falling to his shoulders when he angles his hips a bit deeper. You go to push him to let up, but he moves your hands out of the way, thrusts barely faltering. His stamina and consistency is nothing to play with.
You get a good grip on the hair at the back of his neck next, but it doesn’t stop shit. If anything, Jungkook seems to enjoy how hard you tug at his damp hair while he pounds into you ruthlessly. Speeding up as if he’s about to cum like a masochist, but controlling himself to glide into the pace again.
You want to pass out from how he’s beating your pussy like you owe him money. Your ex is too strong to shove off you, and you’re only weakening with every snap of his pelvis against yours, with every fluttering in your lower stomach. Your eyes are pricking in tears, and you know your orgasm is at the edge.
“Is my princess gonna cry?” Jungkook asks, yanking your hands off of him again and actually stopping to give you a breather. “She’s so big and bad until I fuck her…”
Jungkook lets you fight at him for a bit more because, yeah, you really can’t take dick. Definitely not good, mental dick like his. You cum a lot from the slight pain, though, so he isn’t going to ever deny you your sick pleasure.
Plus, you love it so much. Getting thrown around and manhandled how he likes. He can barely pick up a rhythm after he pins your wrists down to the bed beside your head, you clinging onto him with a baby trapping grip. He grinds so thickly into your walls and against your love button to make damn sure you can sense him in your stomach days later.
Jungkook maintains eye contact as he looks you in the face and lets you cry about it, saying sweet nothings on how pretty you look and how you’re taking his big cock like a good girl. You cum again, holding out for Jungkook so that he can, too. Which he does by pulling out and cumming on top of your sex. He just needed to see that creamy ring around his shaft and knew he could finally let go.
You both lie side by side to calm down and cool off afterwards, staring up at your fairy lights quietly and listening to the sound of another thunderstorm brewing outside. Until your ex tries to cuddle into you, and your heart beats to hurt as much as your cervix.
“Get out.”
“No.”
You sigh. No shit it wasn’t going to be as easy as telling him to leave.
It’s back to ignoring him while you get up and head to the bathroom to pee and turn on the shower. Jungkook, to no surprise, slips in behind you, too. The shower is only big enough for one person, but he doesn’t care. He gets into the crowded space with you, wrapping his arms around your waist with his soft cock against your ass.
You clean and lather each other in your strawberry shortcake body wash and complimentary lotion before leaving the bathroom. Jungkook gets in your bed butt ass naked, so you decide you mine as well do the same.
You allow him to hold you this time, tracing your waist and the curve of your spine until you doze off.
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The thin scarf around your neck shockingly looks amazing with your strapless dress.
It’s more natural and fashionable in a not-trying-too-hard-to-impress-your-date kind of way since it covers some skin, although you wouldn’t have to wear the damn scarf if you didn’t wake up to Jungkook next to you.
You forgot he chokes you until you’re near death so that your orgasm has a higher chance of killing you than he does. Now you have a dark fingerprint bruise on your neck and ten more on your hips.
He finally allowed you to kick him out by afternoon after demolishing another fruit bowl dessert you made him, to which you’re sure that’s not the last of him, but it’ll do for tonight. He’s the biggest cockblock, and you’d be stupid to bring your date back here if it gets far.
Unfortunately, the universe continues to voice its disdain for the split from your ex and prevents you from escaping him.
Your date, a college peer, brings up Jungkook over and over at the restaurant. Asking if you two were high school sweethearts, seeing each other, or if he needed to talk to Jungkook before taking you seriously. Like he needed a blessing from him.
Detaching Jungkook’s name from yours and yours from his would be impossible when everyone watched your relationship from beginning to end, rooted for you both. Jungkook lives in your skin everywhere you go, and you have to accept it.
The evening gets boring fast. The guy is more interested in you and your ex’s situationship than you. And constantly bringing up how gorgeous you look and that your skin is glowing, instead of any individuality questions. You think he would personally praise Jungkook if you told him he was the reason for the afterglow.
You don’t order dessert or bother to offer more of your time by declining his ride back to the other side of campus. It starts raining, too, but you decide better on going alone.
You’re waiting for an available lyft ride when you get a message, your battery beginning to drain the rest of the juice it has left.
chimmy🤍: lol ur date thinks ur into him
chimmy🤍: texted me that he thinks ur really cute and wants another date
you: 🖕🏽hell no.
you: he’s boring and jungkook would scare his ass off easily
you: not for me :(
you: just tell him I had a great time
chimmy🤍: will do 🫡
chimmy🤍: did u make it back already??
You glance around the half empty restaurant and the dark parking lot being pelted in rain. On the app, there’s no rides nearby because of the thunderstorm.
you: im gonna walk
chimmy🤍: bitch.
chimmy🤍: if u dont text ur man
chimmy🤍: i set up the perfect date for u two to angry fuck
you: we did that last night and this morning but whatever
chimmy🤍: gasp!
chimmy🤍: fucking disgusting how u cant keep ur hands to yourselves geez..
chimmy🤍: text him
You groan, but you try not to think twice about sending Jungkook your location right before your phone fades to black. You feel terrible about texting him after the way you’ve been treating him as disposable, so you wouldn’t be mad if he decides to ignore you.
It’s fine.
The rain doesn’t seem to be slowing down almost ten minutes later, and you deserve to get drenched in this date outfit.
As you go to step off the covered platform, a figure suddenly knocks into you from the street. They stop you from tripping over yourself in your heels, holding you upright.
It’s Jungkook.
Dripping wet and panting as if he’d ran a marathon.
You weren’t expecting him to come…
“What happened? Why are you crying?” He rushes over his words after getting a good look at you. “Where is he? Imma fuck him up.”
You can’t help but to giggle at Jungkook looking inside of the restaurant windows for the guy, more emotional tears stinging your eyes. You hadn’t noticed you were crying the whole time you were standing here.
“I’m okay.”
You hug him, wiping your runny nose on his wet t-shirt. Jungkook squeezes you tight for a minute, noticing you still sniffling and steps back to cradle your face.
“Then why are you crying, princess? Tell me.”
“Nothing. It’s nothing,” you sigh. Pulling his palms from your cheeks and holding one of his hands. You can’t believe your feelings right now. “Let’s just go. Please?”
Jungkook looks from you to your hand and then back at you again. It’s been a while since you’ve held his hand platonically, but he instinctively grips yours back, comforting.
“Wherever you wanna go, princess. I’m right here.”
“With you,” you say.
“Okay, princess.”
Jungkook removes his jacket and slips it over your shoulders. It’s soaking, but it’s the principle that makes you gush at him being so boyfriend and so adorable.
You offer your hand again before he twines his fingers between yours, stepping out into the cold, pouring rain, walking contently through the darkness together.
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jqngkooz · 4 months
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'tis the damn season (1) | jjk
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pairing: jungkook x reader
rating: 18+ (no smut in this chapter though!)
genre: f2l? more like idiots to lovers, mutual pining, angst, fluff, eventual smut
warnings: the miscommunication in this is so frustrating (sorry 🙃), previous love confessions, unrequited love (not for long), crying, rejection, very pg sexual tension, alcohol
w/c: 2.8k words
a/n: hiii omg okay so this is my first time ever posting something i've written. i've always been a silent reader but i really want to start posting because i love writing. hopefully this is good, hope you enjoy!
summary: When Jimin convinces you to spend christmas in a cabin in the middle of nowhere with your entire friend group, you’re forced to face the feelings that you’ve been suppressing for your best friend Jungkook after all these years.
Your parents had never gone away for the holidays. Every year without fail they pull out the itchy christmas jumpers that you and your brother hate so much and cook a ridiculous amount of food. So when they told you they were planning on spending this christmas on a cruise ship around the Caribbean, you were left with nowhere to spend the holidays. Sure, your brother had his wife and kids to spend it with, but you? No one. And now it’s five days before christmas and still with no plans you’re not left with many options. 
“Jimin,” you groan, “I’m looking for serious suggestions here.”
He doesn’t look up from behind the kitchen island as he chops onions.
“I am being serious. You’re not spending christmas alone with your cat and your vibrator, come with us”
You slump further down into the couch, weighing up your options. Spending christmas alone at your age is embarrassing. The fact that you don’t have a boyfriend and haven’t had one in months is embarrassing enough on its own. But having to see Jungkook again was by far the worst-case scenario. 
Jimin puts the knife down, wipes his hands on his apron and comes behind the couch, gently massaging your shoulders. 
“Please come. It’ll be so nice. Tae’s aunt has the nicest cabin in the mountains. We can get shitfaced, roast marshmallows, hell I’ll even watch one of those crappy Hallmark movies you love”
He leans down, forehead on your shoulder and puts on his sweetest voice as you sigh.
“Pleaseeee, you won’t even notice he’s there” 
The last time you saw Jungkook he had turned up at your door, shaking from the rain. 
“Jungkook? What are you doing here? It’s freezing”
You drag him out of the September chill as he steps into your apartment, big black boots treading muddy water on your floor tiles. 
He sighs, “Don’t marry him.”
His eyes are big and glossy, staring down at you in the twinkly way they always do.
“Jimin told me he proposed. Don’t say yes. Well I mean obviously you already said yes,” He rambles, glancing down at the ring on your finger as he nervously bounces on the balls of his feet, “but take it back.”
You must look absolutely dumbfounded, watching in confusion as he stands in your hallway soaking wet and pleading. 
You shake your head, “No, you can’t do this right now. Are you seriously doing this right now?”
You laugh dryly.
“I can’t believe you. I thought you liked Mark I don’t- I don’t understand”
He takes his bottom lip between his teeth. His nerves running rampant. He knows he has no right at all to spring this on you but he can’t watch you get engaged to this guy that he knows isn’t right for you. He knows that he should have confessed earlier, years earlier. He’s had the chance to tell you since high school and he never did, he was always so afraid that you didn’t feel the same way.
“I do like him, he’s fine. But I can’t- fuck I can’t let you get married to him without you knowing how I feel. You know I’ve always had a thing for you, you’re not stupid. And god, I know this is a bad time but if I don’t say this now I’ll never get the chance to”
No, no, no. 
“Please don’t say it” You practically beg. 
“I love you. I always have.”
He’s utterly desperate, he’s sure he looks foolish, but he doesn’t care right now. 
“I’m in love with you” He repeats.
That night you had turned him away, back into the cold. Jungkook wasn’t much of a crier but his bottom lip wobbled as he stood staring at your front door. It’s not that he expected you to just drop everything, drop Mark, and fall into his arms, but he hadn’t exactly expected you to turn him away either. He stopped hanging out with Jimin and Yoongi after that, too afraid to see you again. He wouldn’t know what to say if he did, ‘Sorry for telling you I love you the day you got engaged’? 
“He won’t want me there, Jimin. He hasn’t spoken to me in months, it’ll be awkward.” You groan, resting your head against his.
He chuckles, “You two have got to just get over it. You’re adults for god’s sake. You bickered all the time in high school but you always made up. Please, I really want you there, it won’t be fun without you”
Goddamn Jimin and his persuasiveness. 
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Somehow, you find yourself piling into Tae’s car. Yoongi slings all of your bags into the trunk before sliding into the backseat next to you. 
“Namjoon is bringing Seokjin, Hobi and Jungkook. He said they should arrive around 5 ish so, just a little after us” Tae says. Your stomach turns, what do you even say to him? If you attempt to make conversation you’re certain he won’t reciprocate but if you ignore him that’s even worse. And unfortunately, you love your friends and there’s no way you’ll be the one to ruin this trip for them by making things awkward.
“God I’m so ready for some actual fun. I’m surprised work even let me have christmas off, it’s a nice change not being treated like a slave for once.”
He lays his head back and closes his eyes. 
“Nice to know at least one of us is gonna be having a nice time. This is gonna be hell.” You retort.
Tae adjusts the rearview mirror as Jimin hops into the passenger seat before he speaks, “You’ll be fine. You’ll make up, hold hands, maybe fuck it out. Stop worrying” 
“Hey,” he adds “If Jungkook’s not willing to, I will”
Jimin grimaces, “You’re sick."
When you arrive, the cabin is huge, a mix of wood and sleek whiteness. Fairy lights twinkle around the outside of the house, reflecting off of the snow. 
“Holy shit,” Yoongi squints out of the car window, “This place is amazing, what the hell does your aunt do for work?”
Tae shrugs as he parks up and the engine turns off, “I don’t know, something for the government. She’s not allowed to tell us or some shit”
The boys begin taking the bags into the cabin and dumping them in the hallway. 
“Someone needs to get us some food. My aunt said she left some cans and stuff but nothing perishable so.” Tae shouts from the kitchen as he rummages through the cupboards.
You take in the cabin. It’s impeccably clean, with a fireplace below the ridiculously huge TV and a cream couch in front of it. The walls in the living room are painted a forest green and littered with mismatching photo frames filled with old pictures of Taehyung’s cousins and family. 
“You were so cute Tae,” You shout back, leaning closer to a baby picture of him standing on the beach, cheesing at the camera, “What happened?”
“You’re going to the supermarket for that.” He quips.
But you don’t mind, you want to see the town anyway. You love the snow and have always dreamed of living way off the grid in a place like this. Sure, the city is great, all busy and fast and full of light but there’s something about a place like this in the middle of nowhere that you love. Maybe one day when you have kids of your own you’ll move out of the city and into somewhere like this. God knows you don’t want to raise them in the city. 
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You feel like your fingers are going to fall off. Your nose is probably an embarrassing shade of red and you feel like your eyes might actually get iced shut soon. The supermarket is warm, thank god, and you glance down at the shopping list. 
Don’t forget wine!!! Is scribbled at the bottom, with a small smiley face. 
You have no idea what wine everyone likes, or if they even all like the same wine so you grab a few red and white, along with some chocolate that you’re ready to stash in your room for yourself.
“Sorry, can I just get to the-”
A figure squeezes in front of you, reaching up to grab a bottle of wine. You’d recognise that tattooed hand anywhere. You step back, squeaking out a “sure” that has his head whipping around at the sound of your voice. 
“Sorry, I- I didn’t recognise you. Your hair it’s um, shorter” He’s biting his lip. It’s a nervous habit he has, like how he fiddles with his fingers when he’s sad or grins with those bunny teeth when he’s really happy. 
On the contrary, his hair is longer, falling down in dark waves that frame his face and partially cover his ears. His lip shimmers with a silver ring, that’s new. 
“Oh yeah that’s okay, it is.” You reply, looking down at your shoes like an idiot. 
A beat passes. The supermarket isn’t busy and there’s no other shoppers to help cushion the awkward silence. No one comes down the aisle. 
He clears his throat, “It’s really nice to see you. How have you been?”
You had thought about this moment a million times over in your head, wondering if he’d be cold, mad, anything. But he’s not. Of course he’s not because he’s Jungkook. The same shy, 15-year-old you met in math class, who whispered the answer to you when he saw the panicked look on your face. He’s probably the kindest guy you know, you’re certain there's not a bad bone in his body. 
“Um, I’ve been good yeah. What about you?” 
There’s an unfamiliar space between you as you both stand a few feet away. It’s weird. He’s always been a touchy guy, never hesitating to hug you or stand close to you. Seeing him for the first time in months makes you realise how much you miss it all. Even his annoying inability to walk in a straight line, always leaning into you and accidentally pushing you into the road doesn’t seem so annoying right now. 
He takes a sharp breath in as you look up at him.
“Yeah I’ve been okay” He starts, “I’m guessing they sent you out for food too?”
He glances down at your basket. 
“Yeah, I’m on turkey, veg and wine duty.” You say with a small laugh. He can’t believe how much he’s missed that sound, his stomach turning. Of course he had to ruin what you had by telling you he loved you. He must have replayed that scene every night in his head, cursing himself for being such a selfish idiot. 
“Ah I’m on snack duty, just thought I should pick up some wine but I see you’ve got that covered.” He smiles. That damn smile.
Another awkward silence. 
“You never called.” You blurt out.
He seems a little taken aback, not expecting you to talk about it so soon. He thought maybe you’d pretend that it never happened. He shifts his weight onto his other leg. The basket feels heavy and he swears he’s sweating under the bright lights. 
“I didn’t know what to say. You didn’t exactly wanna talk to me that night. I thought it was better to give you space”
You purse your lips into a fine line, nodding. 
“I’m sorry,” You might as well lay it all out on the table now, “about everything. I should have called too. I just want this christmas to be nice and I don’t wanna make It awkward for the rest of the guys. I just um, I just wanna be normal again. With you”
You screw one of your eyes shut, bracing for his response. He nods.
“Agreed. And I’m sorry too. Really fucking sorry.” He laughs shyly, “Say the word and it’s forgotten.” 
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It’s almost completely dark when you get back, pushing the cabin’s door open. The fireplace is on and the house is loud with laughter. Jimin and Namjoon are standing in the kitchen, the rest in the living room watching a football game. 
“Namjoon’s car’s here!” Jimin says happily as you step inside, shaking off the snow. Jungkook follows behind you, closing the door. 
“I know.” You shoot Jimin a look as his eyes flicker between you and Jungkook both holding shopping bags. He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly.
“Sorry, I didn’t know we sent both of you…miscommunication I guess” Jimin says sheepishly. 
Once the shopping is put away and the fireplace has finally defrosted you, Hobi brings out the board games. You munch on some pretzels as you all sit on the floor huddled around a Monopoly board. 
“You’re totally cheating- he’s totally cheating!” Seokjin sighs out of frustration. 
“No, I’m fucking not,” Hobi’s eyes go wide at the accusation. “I had a get out of jail free card.” 
“You already used it!” Jimin and Tae say in unison, bursting out laughing. It’s nice, being together as a group again. Yours and Jungkook's fight, if you could even call it that, meant that the whole group hadn’t been together in a while. Even now as everyone argues it’s nice, it’s familiar. As if he can hear your thoughts, Jungkook leans towards you and says quietly, 
“This is nice. Reminds me of when we all used to play uno during our lunch periods. You always used to peek at my cards.”
You look at him in shock, “You knew about that? I thought I was sneaky.”
He chuckles, his shoulders bouncing up and down in the fitted black shirt he’s wearing. He’s gotten buffer in those three months you haven’t seen him and you’re wondering how his sleeves aren’t bursting at the seams. 
“Of course I knew, I just always let you win because it made you happy.”
You laugh at that. To him, you’ve gotten impossibly prettier since the last time he saw you. It’s like your eyes have gotten bigger and rounder and your smile even wider. If he’s gonna be honest with himself, he’s still in love with you. How could he not be? He has been since he was 16, but something always got in the way. A college boyfriend of yours or his job or a girlfriend of his or your fiancé. Every time he felt like you two might be getting close something came in the way. Library study sessions where your hands would brush against each other and neither of you would pull away, or nights where you’d turn up at his dorm in tears over a stupid boy that hadn’t treated you right, and he’d gotten so close to just kissing you. He was afraid to ruin the friendship you had, always pulling back before it got too real and turning to flings and hook-ups to try and dull the ache in his chest that only you could relieve. 
“I really missed you,” he says before correcting himself, “missed being friends with you. I’m sorry that I messed everything up. I wish I could go back and just, not turn up that night.” He runs a hand through his hair, “I shouldn’t have interfered with your relationship, no matter how I felt. I just really want you to know that I’m sorry.”
Your chest warms but his use of the word ‘felt’ isn’t lost on you. You hadn’t expected him to still feel the same way but it still stings.  “I missed you too Jungkook. I felt so stupid after I closed the door on you, I should have just heard you out and listened. Mark and I were never going to work out anyway.” You laugh awkwardly and take a sip of your wine. 
He nods, “I know but it still wasn’t right. I was an idiot. No feelings are worth losing a friendship over. At least that’s all in the past now right?”
Right, definitely in the past. Your stomach’s definitely not in a knot right now, twisting and turning at the smell of his aftershave as he leans next to you so close that you can feel his body heat. Those feelings are definitely in the past as you look into his big eyes, illuminated by the orange glow of the fire behind you. 
You gulp, “Yeah.”
The doorbell rings, stopping your conversation with Jungkook and the ridiculous argument about whether or not Hoseok is cheating. Jungkook stands up, jogging towards the door. 
Jimin looks at you confused as if you have the answer. You shrug, everyone’s attention is on the door. 
“Guys this is Isabelle. I thought it’d be cool if she stayed for a few days.”
The girl stands in the hallway, pretty and well put together as she sends you all a small wave. Jungkook looks down at her with a smile, squeezing her shoulder. There’s an awkward silence, no one really knowing what to say.
You feel like your heart has dropped so far that it might be in your ass. 
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avatar-anna · 4 months
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sza deserves all the grammys this year i said what i said
Hockey Player! Harry x Figure Skater! Reader
*.*
"You're an idiot, Styles."
Harry tried to respond, but hissed as Y/n dabbed the cut near his eye. "Easy, there. I know you have gentler hands than that."
Y/n huffed, moving onto his split lip. Harry was sitting on top of her bathroom counter as she cleaned up his cuts from the fight he got into at his game an hour ago. She hadn't gone, and had been surprised when Harry showed up at her doorstep battered and bruised, a bag of frozen peas pressed to his cheek. They weren't supposed to see each other tonight, but Y/n didn't have time to think about the fact that Harry had come to her for help when they only had been sleeping together for two weeks now.
"Should've gone somewhere else if you wanted gentle," Y/n said, her words coming out icier than she'd intended. Perhaps she was overcompensating to cover up the fact that she didn't like seeing him hurt, but she quickly pushed that thought away until it was practically non-existent. "What the hell were you fighting about anyway?"
Harry had mentioned the fight was enough to get him thrown out of the game, but he didn't say what had pushed him to start it in the first place. Y/n had joined her friends at a handful of hockey games, and each time Harry was a cocky little shit on the ice, sometimes shoving an opponent around or getting in their face, but it was never anything serious. He was a lot of things, but Y/n never considered him to be the overly violent type. She didn't imagine any small thing would've caused him to lose it on someone, especially if it affected his team negatively.
Harry shrugged, but Y/n saw the dark look that crossed his face as he recalled the fight. "Some asshole on the other team was talking shit. I put a stop to it."
Definitely vague, but Y/n had no idea why. She didn't see any reason why he would have to hide his reason for getting in a fight during one of his games. "Well, I hope you got a few good hits in."
"Careful, Princess. You're starting to sound like you care about little old me."
Y/n blushed at Harry's sly grin. Something fluttered in her stomach, but she ignored it, opting to press just a little harder on the cut on his lip. "No. I just had it in my head that I was going to sit on your face tonight, and now I can't."
The look of pure disappointment on Harry's face left Y/n feeling perfectly pleased with herself. She couldn't help the way she swelled with pride at how much he wanted her. She wasn't really sure what that meant, but she didn't feel like putting much thought into it for now.
When Harry tried to lean in for a kiss, his hands, bruised knuckles and all, reaching out for her waist, Y/n stepped out of his grasp. She left the bathroom and headed for the kitchen, returning with an ice pack and tossing it to Harry. "You can crash here tonight if you want," she said. "You know, concussion protocol and everything."
The look Harry gave her was one Y/n couldn't read, but it made her squirm, so she disappeared out of the bathroom once again. Harry didn't follow, so she assumed he was just wrapping up or something. In the meantime, she went to her room, rustling through the stack of vinyls next to her desk before settling on one and and putting on her record player. It crackled for a moment, then music erupted from the speakers, filling Y/n's bedroom and putting her at ease a bit. The truth was, seeing Harry roughed up didn't sit well with her. She worried for him, felt bad that she wasn't there. And she didn't expect to feel that way, she didn't like it. Harry had joked earlier that she was starting to care about him, and that sent her nerves skittering too. That wasn't what this was.
Harry came in a few minutes later, setting his duffle bag in its usual place and picking his way through the dim glow of the twinkly lights. He slipped into bed next to Y/n, kissing up and down her neck and shoulders as he slipped his hands under her sleep shirt. Y/n tilted her head back to kiss him, not really thinking about the cut on his bottom lip. Harry winced a little, but didn't pull away. She did, though, brushing her thumb over his lip gently.
"Sorry," she mumbled. "Maybe we should—"
"No, it's okay. I like the pain," Harry said, and Y/n couldn't tell if he was joking or not. Honestly, it was probably both.
The record continued to play, the melody easing the tension out of both of their shoulders and relaxing Y/n in a way it always did. "No more split lips. I don't like tasting blood when I kiss you."
"I see," Harry said, but there was something in his tone that made her brow furrow. It was the same knowing look he'd given her in her bathroom, but she still couldn't quite make sense of it. It felt like he knew something she didn't, like he saw right through the walls around her heart and knew how she really felt.
Flicking her eyes away from that piercing gaze of his, she shuffled around on her bed, inching down Harry's body as her fingers traced his lithe frame as she went. Harry tried to question her actions, but his voice dissolved into a moan before he could do so. Y/n didn't want to think anymore, didn't want to worry, didn't want her thoughts to travel into territory she considered dangerous. She just wanted him.
Harry's hand found the back of her head, content in her plan to leave the events of the night behind them. He murmured words of encouragement, talking her through it all and guiding her head and caressing her cheek gently with his thumb. The longer she pleasured him, the more that swell of pride came back in full force. She preened at each little reaction he had to her touch, causing her to smile as best she could in her current position.
When it was all said and done, Harry rested his head against Y/n's chest, his breaths deep and slow as the record's first side fizzled to an end. Y/n tried not to think too much into the position they'd found themselves in, or the way lying together felt just as right as having sex did. Her heart flipped as Harry sleepily mumbled, "Thanks for taking care of me," his voice so slurred she wondered if he would remember saying it in the morning.
Y/n couldn't find sleep as she wondered if she wanted him to or not.
*.*
Harry hadn't been a relationship very long, but he thought it was safe to say that he knew when his newly minted girlfriend was positively seething.
Y/n had somehow managed to sit on top of the kitchen counter, and he could see her staring from the doorway that led to the main room of his apartment where he was involved in a particularly intense drinking game. He knew why she was stewing over there, why her fingers tightly gripped the drink he'd gotten for her earlier. They were together now, but it wasn't like they made a formal announcement to anyone, so sometimes a girl would try to flirt at a party or a guy would get a little too comfortable around Y/n.
Neither of them liked to share, but Y/n wasn't as up front about it as Harry tended to be; he preferred to quietly seethe and let her bad mood settle over her while he had no problem letting people know he was hers. He didn't like this girl pressing up against him more than Y/n did, but every time he tried to put distance between them around the table, she just kept inching back to him. Harry fancied himself a gentleman and didn't want to embarrass the freshman by telling her point blank he wasn't interested, but she hadn't taken the subtle hints he was throwing her way, and he wanted to go to sleep a happy boyfriend.
The game wrapped up quickly and Harry did his best to try to get away from the table and head toward Y/n, but a hand rested on his bicep, causing him to turn around to look down at the young woman who'd been flirting with him the entirety of the game. Before she could get a word out, Harry was quick to shut her down. "I have a girlfriend."
"I don't see her," she said, her thumb smoothing over his shirtsleeve, but he quickly shrugged out of her grip and nodded to where he knew Y/n was watching the exchange take place.
And Harry felt it was an important distinction that his girlfriend was staring down the girl, not him.
Y/n's legs were crossed, causing her mini skirt to ride up her legs a couple inches. She wore tights underneath, but Harry only found it hotter. Everything about her turned him on, even the amused raise of her brows as she stared down the freshman who was still standing a little too close for her liking.
A lot was said in that look, and Harry could practically feel the chill from it, even when it wasn't necessarily directed at him. But it did the trick. The girl stepped back, a deep blush staining her cheeks. "Sorry, I'll just..."
And then she was gone, swallowed up by the crowd in search of someone available. Shaking his head, Harry maneuvered his way through his apartment, avoiding the throngs of people who bumped into him and got in his way. He didn't often have parties at his apartment, but tonight was his roommate's birthday, so now there was a hoard of people milling around his living room. He was just glad he had a lock on his door.
That look of irritation thinly veiled by amusement still danced in Y/n's eyes when Harry finally reached her. He was quick to tap her chin with his knuckle, settling one arm on the counter space beside her. "Ease up, tiger. I'm all yours, you know that."
"These underclassmen are bold," was all she said. The base of an R&B song thumped through the apartment, but this close together, Harry could hear her just fine. It was one of Y/n's favorite, and he could tell by the gentle sway of her body that she wasn't as mad as she was letting on.
Very gently, but with enough purpose and a look in his eyes that had Y/n's frosty exterior melting a little, he uncrossed her legs and settled in between them. "You didn't want to come save me?"
Harry took a sip of Y/n's drink when she offered it to him, running a hand through his hair idly. Most days he wore one baseball cap or another on his head, but recently he'd been going without one, perhaps on the off chance that his girlfriend's hands would find their way to his hair and play with it. "What did you want me to do? Go over there and shove my tongue down your throat?"
"I mean...I wouldn't have been opposed."
Sometimes Y/n came off as cold or a little standoffish, at least to those who didn't know her. She was just guarded, but every time Harry managed to put a smile on her face was worth it, each one a mini victory. There was a side to her that only he really knew, and he valued that nearly above everything else in their budding relationship.
"Noted," she said, crossing her arms around his neck. This close, Harry couldn't really do much but breathe in the smell of her perfume and nudge the sensitive skin of her neck with his nose. He swore he could just get drunk on the feel of her alone. Y/n hummed and leaned into him a little more before saying, "I like this song."
"Yeah?" Harry already knew, but he thought it was cute that she felt the need to tell him. As if he wasn't constantly cataloging all the little details that made up who she was.
Y/n nodded, pulling his head up by his hair so his eyes could meet hers. They were practically nose to nose, and he couldn't help the ridiculous smile that spread across his face as he looked into her eyes.
"What's that look for?" she asked.
I'm in love with you. It was the first time the thought had ever occurred to him, but he realized it was true. Harry was in love with Y/n. He'd liked her for a long time, as more than someone he just slept with, but he could tell that Y/n was a little slower to warm up to the idea of Harry being more than just a fuck buddy, so he took what she was willing to give him and bided his time. Now that he knew her even more, that he was able to be more to her, his heart unfurled like a flower in bloom.
Jesus, my teammates would roast the shit out of me if they heard me talking like this, he thought. Then, he realized he never answered Y/n's question. Clearing his throat, he gave her a quick kiss. "Come to bed with me? We can get up early tomorrow and get a morning skate in."
That, above everything, made Y/n's smile widen, and Harry couldn't fight his own when she crossed her legs behind his back and practically leaped into his arms.
*.*
Y/n didn't realize how someone could be so...perfect.
Before Harry waltzed his way into her life, she'd never done the whole relationship thing. She was too focused on skating, on her desire to be the best, to get distracted by things like boys and dates and hand-holding, by things like love. But Harry was just...well, he was unexpected. Now, years later, he was everything to her.
It started out with the small things. In school, he met her early in the morning for training, where she would do laps or work on tricks she was still struggling to master while he watched and reminded her to get water, or he would do drills while she reminded him of the same. They sat in ice baths together or helped each other stretch out their sore muscles, helped each other meal prep or make dinners that were beneficial to both their needs.
And then he became just as important to her off the ice. Harry made a point of reminding Y/n of balance, of enjoying herself outside the rink. They went on dates, studied together in the library, and volunteered at the community center to teach younger kids how to skate. When they were in school, Y/n and Harry had become some sort of unit, and that fact had only made her smile, not run away and hide like she originally thought it would.
Harry used to make her blood boil, now she didn't want to know what life would look like without him.
Currently, Harry was in the kitchen making breakfast. His back was to her, bearing the harsh red marks she left on his skin from last night. The sight made her cheeks flush, though she knew if Harry were to spot the various hickeys on her skin, or the still healing red marks around her wrists, his usual charming grin would become more sly and smug.
Leaning against the counter, Y/n watched Harry do his thing in content. He moved around their kitchen like he'd been there for years when in reality they'd only just moved in a couple months ago. Their previous apartment post-graduation was little more than a closet with a bathroom and a stove. Being in the minor leagues, Harry was offered accommodations with the rest of his team, but he declined so he could live with Y/n, and his paychecks, in the beginning, weren't nearly enough to live comfortably in a metropolitan city.
In some ways, Y/n missed their old apartment. It was way too tiny, the heat barely worked, and the neighborhood wasn't the greatest, but it was theirs, a piece of their history. She liked having to snuggle up so close to Harry simply to keep warm, liked the sweet old man and his little dog that Y/n watched occasionally for extra cash. Now their apartment was perfectly insulated, and their bed was big enough that sometimes it felt like there was too much space, and she wasn't quite sure about her new neighbors yet.
It was good. With Harry, things were always good. It was just different, and Y/n had always had a hard time adjusting to change. She would get there eventually, she just needed to warm up to their new home a bit more.
The expansive kitchen space was a good start, though.
Harry was humming to himself, an R&B song they both loved. His voice was deep and gravelly, and not just because he'd just woken up. Judging by the to-go cups on the kitchen island, he'd been up for a while. No, that was just his natural singing voice, and Y/n would've been irked that her boyfriend just had to be good at everything if his voice didn't make her toes curl.
"You're chipper this morning," she said, finally announcing her presence.
Harry turned around and smiled before turning back to whatever needed his attention at the stove. Y/n took that as her cue to walk over to him, her arms slipping around his waist. She kissed the spot between his shoulder blades, his skin warm despite not having a shirt on. Harry felt solid beneath her touch, but soft enough that she comfortably rested her cheek against him.
He continued to hum, one hand covering Y/n's while the other tended to their breakfast. When he was almost done, she let go and helped Harry get plates and utensils, setting up shop at their dining table while he brought their food over. The table was also a new addition to their home. Before, they just ate at the tiny counter that separated the kitchen from the rest of the apartment, not having enough room for a proper table and chairs.
Harry pulled Y/n into his lap before she could even think about sitting in her own chair. She turned in her spot and looked down at him with raised eyebrows. "Why did we buy multiple chairs when we only ever use the one?"
It was a joke. Y/n didn't mind sitting on Harry's lap. His schedule was so hectic that sometimes it was weeks before he was able to come home and spend proper time with her. Being this close made up for lost time, and both of them were eager to be apart as little as possible during the off-season.
But Harry responded with an answer that made Y/n pause because she couldn't tell whether he was joking with her or being serious.
"For the kids, obviously."
She tried her hardest not to stiffen when he would be able to feel it. They'd never discussed kids. Ever. And Y/n couldn't tell if he was testing the waters or if he was genuinely being facetious.
"I don't know if sitting in your lap in front of our children would be very appropriate." Y/n managed to add a little sarcasm in her voice, unsure of where this conversation was going. Then, because she wasn't a woman scared of feelings and difficult conversations anymore, she said, "You've never talked about that before."
"About what?"
She leveled Harry with a flat look. "You know what."
Harry shrugged, clearly not as thrown off by this as Y/n was. "Is it a bad thing if I say I want to have your babies one day?"
Babies? As in plural? "Let's just focus on one for now," she said.
"Alright. One. I want a baby," Harry said plainly. "Not like now, or anything, but, like, in the future. I want that to be a step for us somewhere down the line."
Y/n knew Harry wasn't being pushy by being blunt. This was how they spoke when having serious conversations. No beating around the bush, no guessing at subtext or tones or anything like that. They just spoke in clear, declarative statements, though Y/n hadn't imagined having this particular conversation anytime soon.
She just didn't think Harry was there yet. She didn't know if she was there yet. They'd just moved into this apartment, and Harry was blowing up as a rookie in the NHL. Y/n was just getting her feet on the ground as a sports psychologist, with a little bit of coaching on the side because even with a full-time job she still couldn't live her life without skating multiple times a week. She just didn't think a baby fit into their lives right now, not with how they barely had time for each other as it was.
"Tell me what you're thinking," Harry said. He didn't seem put off by her lack of response to what he'd said, though that was probably because he was probably used to it by now.
"I'm not...opposed to the idea," Y/n said, because she really wasn't. If there was one person in this world that she wanted to raise a child with, it would be Harry. She could picture it if she allowed her mind to wander far enough—teaching them how to skate and bundling them up to watch Harry's home games, first Christmases and snow days and first steps at a hockey arena, skating recitals or hockey games where Harry would coach. It was a nice daydream.
"But?" Harry asked, his shoulders tensing, as if waiting for the blow.
"But nothing. I just think...I think I still want to be a little selfish and have you all to myself for a little while longer. I hardly get to see you as it is, you know? A baby would change our whole dynamic, and I feel like I'm finally settling into this new life here. Just the two of us."
Harry nodded. He didn't look disappointed, which filled Y/n with relief. She didn't want to upset him with her answer, but that was where she was at.
"I...agree," Harry finally said. "You made a good point there. I can't compete with a baby for your attention. That wouldn't be fair to the baby."
Y/n threw her head back and laughed. "No, it wouldn't. So we're in agreement then."
"Just you and me. For now."
"For now."
Harry leaned in to kiss her, and Y/n melted against him the second his lips were on hers. He groaned a little as she shifted in his lap before standing up and hauling her away from the breakfast he'd made and the table that started this whole conversation. Y/n didn't protest as he set her down on their bed, hands making quick work of the low slung sweatpants that rested on his hips. Harry brought his hand down between her legs, brows raising at how wet she was.
"Already?"
Y/n propped herself on her elbows and shrugged. "Your singing turned me on earlier."
"Really," Harry said, marveling at the revelation.
"Don't let it get to your head. I also think it's annoying how good you are at everything," she said.
Harry grinned before settling between her legs, his arms circling around her thighs to hold her in the exact way he wanted her. Y/n didn't want to talk anymore, but her boyfriend was a cocky little shit, and she knew she had to wait for him to finish basking in the compliment before they moved on.
"Hm. Maybe Harry Jr. will inherit my talents and become a singer."
"Harry Jr?"
"Or Harriet," Harry mused.
Y/n nudged his shoulder with her foot to bring him out of his reverie. "Look at me H. Not gonna happen."
Shrugging, Harry focused back on the task at hand. "Don't worry, Princess. I'll wear you down. I've got time to convince you."
*.*
Harry could hear the harsh, echoey footsteps of someone running through the halls of the arena, but he didn't open his eyes to see who it was. He didn't have to.
"Jesus, H," Y/n breathed when she skidded to a stop at his side. She sounded frantic, panicked. It was a voice he didn't hear often from his fiance.
To the athletic trainer on his other side, she asked, "Why is he just laying here? He needs to go to the hospital. Get off your ass and call an ambulance before—"
"Easy, Princess. We're waiting for the team doctor."
When Harry finally opened his eyes, just barely as the harsh light of the athletic trainer's office caused his head to throb, Y/n was already looking down at where he laid on the exam bed. There was a lot of raw emotion going through her all at once, Harry could see it on her face. He knew it wasn't long before she fell back on her default setting and shut down completely, hiding behind harsh words and a cold exterior.
"You—"
"I'm fine, bub, I promise," Harry said, though the nausea stirring in his gut at having his eyes open for too long wasn't a good sign. He probably had a concussion. He'd hit his head pretty hard when he fell on the ice, but he thought the sharp pain in his ribs was the major concern. Now he wasn't so sure.
"Don't be a hero," Y/n snapped, but he didn't take it personally. Then, she turned her steely gaze on the athletic trainer—a new hire who was on their own for the first time tonight—and said, "Call. An. Ambulance."
Harry shifted his focus to they young trainer, who looked like they were about to shit themselves under the weight of his fiance's stare. "I—I can't—We have to wait—"
Their gulp was audible as they struggled to string enough words together to form a sentence, which only set Y/n's eyes ablaze even more. Harry knew she was scared, he was sure that his fall looked a lot worse than it actually was. But she couldn't turn the new trainer into a puddle of tears. Not again.
"Y/n, look at me."
Harry watched as her eyes stayed trained on the athletic trainer for a few more seconds before sliding her gaze down to his. He could see the fear behind all that anger and toughness, and he carefully took her hand in his so he could kiss the diamond on her left ring finger. "I'm okay," he said again. "The team doctor is on his way, but we're probably looking at a minor concussion and some cracked ribs. That's all."
"That's all?"
Wrong choice of words. "I said minor, didn't I?"
The truth was the hit Harry took on the ice was one of the worst he'd experienced in his professional career. It was a total accident, just too much momentum between him and a player on the opposing team. But it sent Harry careening across the ice, punching the breath out of his lungs and knocking his helmet right off.
"Sit down and take some deep breaths while we wait for the doctor," Harry tried again. "You're gonna stress out the baby."
Y/n's hand instinctively went to her belly, resting their joined hands over the little bump there. In one of Harry's jerseys, it was hard to feel it through the thick material, but he could, and despite the pain he was in, his heart leaped in his chest at the notion of being close to his baby.
Pregnancy was a surprise to the both of them. They'd had one conversation two years ago about kids, but after that, Harry and Y/n never really brought the subject up again. They were just content to live their lives in the moment, not wanting to plan or stress about the future or what could be. But even if they hadn't anticipated Y/n being pregnant, both of them were excited at the prospect of raising a baby together. After that initial conversation, they decided to hold off on kids, and now, the moment felt just right.
Y/n did as Harry asked, taking a deep breath and easing into the chair beside the exam bed he was on. He watched as some of the initial fear and stress of watching him fall in real time wash away, her eyes fluttering closed as she breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth. When she opened her eyes, her gaze found the athletic trainer's again.
"Remember to say please," Harry said before she opened her mouth.
Y/n cut him a glare before she looked back at the trainer. "Could you please find out when the doctor will be here?"
The athletic trainer didn't need to be asked twice. They scurried out of the room, and Harry could hear their frantic voice as they begged the team doctor over the phone to get to the arena faster.
"You know, you really gotta be careful, Princess. People might start to think you actually care about me."
It was his attempt at humor, easing the nerves he knew were swirling around inside her. Y/n's shoulders had yet to relax since she came in the room, and her eyes kept scanning his body as if a new affliction was magically going to appear in front of her. Unfortunately for Harry, his words did not have the desired effect. Y/n glared at him while most likely suppressing the urge to hit him.
"This isn't funny!"
"Never said it was."
"God, Harry," she said, her voice cracking beneath the steel she'd been hiding behind. Now that they were alone, her vulnerability started to make an appearance. "You—You scared me."
Harry's gaze softened. "I know, bub. I'm sorry."
Y/n ran a shaking hand through his hair, working through the knots in his tangled curls while her nails scratched his scalp. Harry leaned his head back with closed eyes, enjoying the familiar caress.
They stayed like that for a few minutes, neither of them saying anything as Y/n calmed herself—and Harry—down. Then, he squeezed her hand, peeking and eye open at her and giving her a knowing look. "You have to stop scaring the new hires. They know what they're doing."
"They looked like a child!" she huffed, pausing her ministrations. "We would already be at the hospital by now."
"I really don't think that's necessary," Harry insisted. "Let's just wait for the doctor, okay?"
Some might find Y/n's behavior overbearing, maybe even rude. But she lashed out when she was scared or angry, and even though Harry drove her insane when they first met years ago, she was fiercely protective of him now. And he couldn't really judge her for it, he was the same with her, especially now that she was pregnant. Y/n had chastised him a number of times already for not letting her carry groceries or assemble furniture for the nursery.
Y/n eventually nodded, begrudgingly agreeing to wait for the team doctor. She slumped in her chair beside Harry, exhaling a loud sigh. Harry grinned, slowly reaching for her chin and tilting her head to face him.
"Come give me a kiss. It'll make me feel better."
Under normal circumstances, Y/n would've scoffed. Harry had come home from a number of games and practices all banged up and begging for Y/n to kiss it better. But tonight she was shaken up at the severity of Harry's fall, and probably needed the kiss more than he did, which was why he said something in the first place.
Y/n pecked his lips before pulling away. She tried to, anyway, but Harry held her in place. "Now I know you can do better than that."
For the first time since she'd stormed in, Y/n grinned. It was small, but Harry counted the victory.
"You're trying to distract me," she said.
"Yes. Is it working?"
Y/n's smile grew a fraction. "Maybe."
Harry leaned in, and Y/n met him halfway, pressing their lips together. She tasted like vanilla, and Harry was inclined to taste as much as he could before the doctor arrived. Each kiss worked to melt Y/n, the hand resting on her cheek earning Harry a sweet little nuzzle in his palm when he eventually pulled away.
"I love you,"Harry said, kissing the tip of her nose.
"Love you too," she murmured, her hand reaching to hold the one he still had against her cheek as they waited for the doctor.
"Behave when the doctor gets here, please?"
"I always behave."
Now it was Harry's turn to scoff. He gave her one more kiss as he heard footsteps in the hallway drawing nearer to their door. "I'll remember you said that," he told her, pinching her cheek as a doctor and the same scared trainer entered the room.
"So, Harry. I heard you took a pretty nasty fall—"
"He needs to go to the hospital," Y/n cut in, that look of steel in her eyes once more.
Harry raised his eyes heavenward, bracing himself for a long night.
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moonstruckme · 5 months
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hi there!! i have a request for youuuu
could you maybe do spencer x bau!reader where the reader is a year clean from self-injury and they have like a little get together with the whole team for it (the original crew, season 2) and everything is happy and okay lol
THANK YOU SM!! i am in need of comfort
Hi lovely! Slight betrayal of the prompt because it's been forever since I watched the show with Gideon instead of Rossi, so I hope that's alright. Thank you for requesting honey, I really hope you're doing well <3
cw: implied past self-harm
Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 1k words
These cooking classes at Rossi’s are becoming a semi-regular event. He always claims it's because every one of you could seriously use the help, but he doesn’t really bother selling the lie to your team of profilers. You all just want to spend time together, and he’s nice enough to host. 
“You’re way too excited.” Amusement livens Spencer’s tone as you practically skip up the steps of Rossi’s too-large house. 
“You’re just jealous,” you say, “that last time Rossi called me his star student and said your gnocchi was as good as mashed potatoes.” 
“They’re not really very different from mashed potatoes,” Spencer mutters, but his hand is fond on the small of your back as he reaches past you to ring the doorbell. 
JJ is the one who comes to the door. “Hi!” She pulls you in for a hug, giving your shoulder blades a happy squeeze. 
“Hi,” you say back, slightly bemused. JJ is a hugger, but usually only on special occasions. You saw her just yesterday. 
Spencer rubs a gentle back-and-forth just below your waist at your confusion, encouraging you through the door. “Hi,” he says. “Did you guys start already? It smells like garlic.” 
“Rossi pre-made garlic knots.” JJ rolls her eyes, leading the way to the kitchen. “He said he didn’t want to give us the chance to botch it.” 
You laugh. “Course he did. At least we won’t all be salivating and trying to eat ingredients this time.” 
“See, she knows exactly what I mean,” Rossi gestures to you as you enter the kitchen. “That’s why you’re my star pupil.” 
You blush at the rare praise, and Prentiss and Morgan both stand. 
“Hey, gorgeous,” Morgan pulls you away from Spencer and into a one-armed hug. You pat him awkwardly on the back. “Glad you came.” 
“Of course I came,” you laugh as Prentiss comes over with a glass of wine. “Thanks, Em.” 
“Cheers.” She clinks the rim of her glass against yours, oddly smiley. You shoot Spencer a look which he very conveniently misses, and suspicion twitches to life in your head. 
“Cheers,” you echo. “So, what’re we making?”
“Lasagna,” Morgan says. “But according to Rossi, it’s extra Italian.” 
“It’s lasagne al forno,” Rossi corrects him, pinching his fingers and bopping his hand up and down with each syllable, and you have to suppress a smile at how completely unironic the gesture is. 
“It’s beef lasagna,” Prentiss simplifies, ignoring the look of offense the old man shoots her way as Garcia comes in the door.
“Hello, hello!” She beelines for you, wrapping you in a tight, warm hug. “Ugh, I’m so proud of you! How are you doing?” 
“I’m good,” you tell her, more and more confident you know what’s going on. “How are you?” 
“I’m amazing.” Garcia releases you but not really, taking one of your hands in both of hers and squeezing. Her eyes are downright twinkly with cheer. “Positively sublime, my friend. Ready to do some cooking!” 
“Same here.” You smile, squeezing back. “I’m just going to go wash my hands really quickly.” 
You don’t have to look behind you to know Spencer is trailing you. He’s hardly left you alone all day, relentless in his doting. You’d thought he was just in one of his more affectionate moods, but now it’s clear why. 
For a few moments, the only sound in the bathroom is the smooth sound of water running out of the faucet. Spencer brushes past you to get to the soap, and you push your long sleeves up so they won’t get wet. “You know what today is?” you ask him.
You can feel him looking at you in the mirror, but you keep your eyes on your hands as you lather soap between your palms. 
“Of course I do,” he says softly. 
“Does everybody know?” 
Spencer rinses his hands, drying them on the towel. “I think so. I didn’t tell them, but I’m sure they remembered the same as I did.” His hand finds the crook of your elbow, thumb damp where it slides over a fine white line just under the edge of your sleeve. The contact isn’t anything special; it’s gentle like all Spencer’s touches, an offhand brush of his skin against yours like there’s nothing wrong with you at all. Your throat clogs unfairly. “It’s an important thing, you know?” 
“For me it is.” Your voice is smaller than you’d like it to be. You stick your hands under the faucet, relishing the feel of the hot water. “I didn’t expect anyone else to remember, though. It’s kind of…I mean, it’s just a year of doing nothing.” 
“It’s not.” Spencer’s palm slides up the length of your arm to your shoulder blade. He rubs between them, quiet until you meet his eyes in the mirror. “It’s not,” he repeats, gently emphatic. “It’s a year of not doing something, and I know it hasn’t been easy for you. It’s an accomplishment, honey. You should get to celebrate.” 
“Wait.” You narrow your eyes, a new suspicion taking root. “Is this…are we here tonight because…” You feel silly for even asking, and your gaze drops back to your hands as you dry them on the towel. “Because of my thing?” 
Spencer shrugs, borderline sheepish. “I mean, not exactly. We did all want to be with you tonight, but everyone knew you wouldn’t want a party or anything. So it’s more…more of an excuse, really.” 
You sigh, turning and resting your head on Spencer’s chest. “How am I supposed to react to that?” you ask him, voice fragile. 
His hand comes to rest on the top of your head, a grounding weight as the other continues rubbing diligently between your shoulders. “You don’t have to,” he says. “You’re allowed to feel any way you need to, everybody knows that. They all just want you to know they’re proud of you.” He slides the hand on your head down to cup your face, working your face away from his chest to look you in the eyes. His smile is small but brimming with an affection too big for words. “You’ve been doing really great, you know that?” 
You laugh a little, pressing your knuckles under your eyes to dry your lashes of tears that never fell. “Thanks, Spence. For everything.” 
“Hey, you did all the work,” he tells you, hand finding its spot on your back again as you lead the way out of the bathroom. “We’re just happy you did it.”
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wynnyfryd · 21 days
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Trailer park Steve AU part 54 (12.1)
part 1 | part 53 | ao3
cw: angst
Chapter 12
Steve drives to Chicago.
He wakes up to an empty bed and a sticky note by the kitchen phone, words scribbled over so the only legible thing left is the word sorry underlined in jagged black, and his breath sticks in his chest and he can't be here anymore. Epiphany ringing like a gong, sending ripples through his marrow, because the walls are closing in and Eddie decorated those walls — splattered himself over every inch of this place, and now he's just the newest haunt in a line of ghosts that Steve can't shake. He thought he’d gotten rid of them, but now he hears them louder than ever. In the hiss of the faucet, in the buzz of the fridge; they’re moaning in his bad ear and rattling his bones, and he can't be here alone with them he can't be here he can't—
So he drives.
Gets in his car with nothing but a spare jacket and a crumpled pack of cigs. If ever there was a time to pick the habit up in earnest. Eddie’s van is gone, and Steve’s heart is bruised; it's bleeding out inside him, pumping fresh hurt with every beat, so he lights a cigarette with shaking hands and heads north. Takes the back roads to the on-ramp of I-65, drives for hours; drives for years, speeding down empty stretches of highway with nothing but roadkill for company.
At some point he rolls the windows down until the icy wind makes his cheeks burn, but he can't really feel them. Can't feel his face, or his fingers, or his heart.
All the world is snow and asphalt, and Steve Harrington is alone.
He tries to drown it out with music. The radio mocks him with swooning quartets love songs — 'put your head on my shoulder' and 'life could be a dream' — and all the tapes he can reach belong to Eddie, so he pulls over on the narrow shoulder of an overpass bridge and screams and screams and screams while he chucks the cassettes over the edge.
Fuck Eddie.
Fuck him.
"FUCK YOU!!" he shouts to the foggy nothingness.
The words dig in sharp; pocket knife twisting in the space below his kidneys.
The fog doesn't respond.
Back in the car, his thoughts turn to his mom. Because he's driving to her, he knows — knew it in his splintering bones and haunted blood the moment he left town. He's driving back to his first ghost, as if confronting the original will somehow exorcise the rest.
Miles pass in silence, and Steve paints over the canvas of what-ifs again and again, oily streaks in the underpainting as he tries to set the scenes just right: quiet, tearful confrontations in his aunt's formal living room, graceless screaming matches out on the front lawn. In one version he never makes it past the guard at the front gate, and in another he just eggs the stupid lion statues leading up to the house while his mom silently weeps from the top of the stairs.
He doesn't know if his mom would laugh at that.
He doesn't know her much at all.
And that fucking hurts; that sits like acid in his lungs, because his mom was his first friend. When he was little — before the housekeepers and nannies, before his mom started tailing his dad on business trips like a trained dog on a leash — they spent so much time together. Trips to the playground, to the library, to the pool. He'd perch himself on her vanity when she got ready in the mornings, use her hairbrush as a microphone to sing along to 50s doo-wop, and she'd giggle and call him her little superstar, so he'd come up with stupid dance moves just to make her smile more.
He misses that. The script, the routine. How he'd spin around in his socks on the slippery bathroom tile and look up at her with her big hair full of rollers and her big eyes full of stars, and he'd say, "Hey! How come your eyes are all twinkly?"
And she'd grin and pinch his cheek and give the same answer every time: "Because you're the light of my life."
"I wish I knew what you'd say now," he whispers to the empty car.
For a moment he envisions that she's sitting there with him, that she's filling the blank space where the boy who broke his heart should be, but he can't remember her cadence well enough to mimic it; can't put words in her mouth when he no longer knows her lines, and with something a bit like horror and a lot like despair it occurs to him that he can't remember what she looks like. There's an apparition in his blind spot, but it's formless and unstable. The shade of its hair keeps changing; the texture, the length.
When he tries to make it speak, it shrugs and dissipates.
part 55
tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)
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just-jordie-things · 6 months
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[epilogue] to build a home - gojo satoru
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word count: 25.4k warnings: swearing, drinking. reader has absent parents summary: just a handful of events that transpired after the conclusion of to build a home.
to build a home series masterlist
[epilogue] : "For You, For Me"
___
[ cause i built a home, for you, for me ]
Maybe it was just the beautiful stretch of summer into early fall, but the days had seemed lighter.  As though the sun’s rays lasted a little longer each day, as though the great bright star couldn’t bear to part with the day too soon.
Or maybe (y/n) was just so sickeningly happy all the time that she finally noticed the sunny days when they came around, and learned to properly appreciate them.  If the sun was shining, she was dragging the two kids out of the apartment and anywhere else- as long as they were outside.
Summer vacation was mostly spent at the park, or at the public market, when Megumi was in a good enough mood to go, anyways.  Tsumiki loved going to the market with (y/n), especially since she’d get to pick out all of her favorite fruits and veggies for the upcoming week.  Megumi mostly clung like a shadow behind (y/n), hating the busy space and strangers who were too friendly.  There was the rare occasion that he’d want to look at the stalls of old books, and (y/n) found that with the promise of looking for a new book, he would relax a little more in the high traffic area.  Was it bribery? Maybe.  But didn’t all parents have to bribe their kids at some point? 
Most nights were spent relaxing, a luxury that (y/n) wouldn’t give up for all the treasures of the world.  
Gathering in the living room to watch a movie with snacks covering the coffee table had become a weekly ritual.  They took turns picking out a movie, and the rule was always that if they could compromise when it’s a movie one of them isn’t interested in, then snacks were on her.  Of course a certain Six Eyes user tended to drop by not-so-at-random with a backpack full of sweets and long limbs that took up most of the couch.  Megumi would bring a pile of blankets to the floor when Satoru joined them for movie nights, claiming that he and (y/n) would hog all the cushions.  It was mostly Satoru, as (y/n) would try to cling to one side of the sofa, but her attempts were to no avail.  Satoru always found a way to crowd her until she was practically curled up under his arm.  Megumi would stick his tongue out in Tsumiki’s direction, disgusted by the abundance of physical affection that Satoru demanded to give to (y/n).  Tsumiki, however, always found it sweet.
Other nights they’d spend in comfortable silence, the three of them in their favorite cozy spots as they read to themselves.  (y/n) often sprawled across the living room sofa with whatever she was reading.  Tsumiki liked to read in a little nook she’d made in the corner of her room, complete with a string of twinkly lights and a big bean bag chair.  Megumi would join (y/n) in the living room, sitting in the oversized chair that matched the living room set.  He was so small in the large cushions he could lay any which way he pleased, but he most often sat crisscrossed with his new favorite book in his lap.  Sometimes (y/n) would convince him to read to her, even when he was halfway through a story she hadn’t been familiar with.  She enjoyed the peaceful quality time, even if it was spent in hours of silence.
And then there was her favorite way for the kids to spend their evenings- coloring.  It was a simple activity, one that she’d indulged in as a child often enough, but hadn’t thought much about until she’d randomly picked up a big pack of crayons on a grocery trip.  It must’ve been a good choice, because Megumi and Tsumiki got right to work on their imaginations.  Now their rooms, and the refrigerator, were covered in their artwork.  Tsumiki liked to draw flowers, sometimes full meadows complete with a sunny sky and rainbows, and sometimes she’d practice different petals with different colors, always trying to learn new things.  Megumi liked to draw his shikigami, giving each one that manifests it’s own name.  He also liked to draw characters from his favorite books.  (y/n) helped him to carefully tape them up on his bookshelf to display properly.  However she had hand-picked a few of their drawings to go on the fridge- which held the same honor as a knight being sworn into duty.  There were a few of Tsumiki’s flowers, and a few of Megumi’s favorite scenes from his books- even the darker ones that held a touch of blood and gore (y/n) would have to talk to him about before he went back to school- but there was one in particular that outshined them all.
It was a drawing they’d done together, on a larger piece of cardstock, of all of them.  There was a carefully drawn out scribble that resembled her, in her signature uniform- black collared jacket and matching black pants- her hair was meticulously thought out, the crayon color carefully chosen, and the strokes of length determined while the pair of kids studied her closely, making sure that their drawing resembled her true form perfectly.  On either side of her stick figure self was one of them, Megumi identified by the sea urchin he’d drawn on top of his head, and Tsumiki by the smile that took up her whole face and the big pink bow in her hair that she wore religiously since (y/n) had gotten it for her.  Lastly, and maybe (y/n’s) favorite part, was that Megumi had chosen to add his dogs to the family portrait.  Sitting right beside each other with little squiggles around their tails to show they were happily wagging, and complete with the red markings on their heads.
As soon as they’d presented this drawing to (y/n), she’d almost burst into tears at how sweet it was.  They laughed at her teary eyes while she smiled and gazed fondly at the picture, taking in every little detail and committing it to memory.  She deemed it the greatest gift she’d ever received, and marched it right to the fridge, clipping it up with magnets.  It took up most of the freezer door, but it would stay there until it was time for it to be moved to a new fridge.
When back to school season rolled around, (y/n) dragged them off to the mall, proudly displaying her earnings from the assignments she’d picked up over the summer.  Now that she wasn’t a student anymore, getting paid to exorcize demons had become a great source of income.  Of course in the midst of Megumi and Tsumiki ogling all the new backpacks with bright colors and anime characters, their favorite special grade sorcerer showed up with a black card that seemed to hold boundless funds, as he paid for every little thing either one of the children picked up.
“They’re going to grow up with a bad understanding of how money works, Satoru” (y/n) had scolded him while Megumi and Tsumiki watched a cashier ring up hundreds of dollars worth of supplies they ‘needed’.
“Nah, I’ll buy them the best tutor in Japan so they don’t” He’d replied, sticking his tongue out at her.
(y/n) rolled her eyes, but as she turned her head away to ignore him, she couldn’t help the small smile that graced her face.  She’d been making enough money to support this small makeshift family, but having Satoru around to help was still appreciated.  Of course, she could never tell him that.  His ego was big enough for the both of them.
Once school was back in session, a decent routine was established.  (y/n) picked up as many assignments during the days as she could, so that her nights could be spent helping them with homework, making dinner, getting chores done, and all the other little things that eat away at your free time when you’re an adult.  Not that she could complain, she adored every minute of the new life she worked to maintain.  However there was the occasion where an assignment too good to pass up would be on her radar in the evenings.  It only took one mention of this to Satoru for him to enlist himself as a babysitter.
It wasn’t often that she’d be gone in the evenings.  She liked to be present at all times when Megumi and Tsumiki were home.  They’d spent too much of their lives being alone, and while they proved to be self-sufficient, it made (y/n’s) heart sink at the thought of purposefully leaving them home alone.  So when Satoru showed up on the evening she’d been offered a well-paid assignment to hunt down a Grade Two cursed object, she let him stay to watch the kids.  Not before giving Tsumiki all of the emergency numbers she could think of, and reminding Megumi of the pendant she’d given him, also in the case of an emergency.
“It’s like you don’t trust me, sweetheart!” Satoru had laughed when she spent too long saying her goodbyes at the door.  He hastily began pushing her out, making sure her weapons were secure in their holsters on her back.  “Go! Go! Have fun! We’ll be fine here!” 
“Okay, just don’t forget they go to bed at-” 
“Nine o’clock, I’ve got it” 
“And they need to brush their teeth-” 
“I’m capable!” He barked at her, all but closing the door in her face while he wore a massive grin.
Long story short, Satoru had given the Fushiguro kids twenty bucks if they promised not to tell her that they’d been up long past their bedtime watching an anime with him that was probably less than appropriate for their age.  But they’d just loved it so much he’d insisted they binge half the series.  It was the closest thing to quality time with Megumi that he was going to get, as the kid begrudgingly sat on the couch next to him with his eyes glued to the screen.  Satoru did his best to cover their eyes when an unsavory scene played, which Tsumiki appreciated, but Megumi always pawed the man’s hand away so he could see what was happening.
“If you get nightmares, (y/n’s) going to kill me” He scolded, clamping his palm over the kid’s whole face to ensure he wasn’t going to catch sight of any true horror.
“I don’t get nightmares!” Megumi argued, trying to claw the hand off his face, but his efforts led nowhere, and he only found himself more annoyed as the man-child laughed at the attempt.
It was nearing the middle of the night when Satoru finally turned off the television and sent them off to brush their teeth.  Worried (y/n) would return soon and catch them in the act of disobeying her few rules, he rushed them with hurried claps and chanting to get them into their pajamas and under the covers.  It was Megumi who’d attempted blackmailing him, reminding him that (y/n) was going to know they were up late.  With an amused grin he’d given the boy a fiver.
“Five dollars?” Megumi gave him a bored look, remembering that shopping day with the magic black credit card that paid for his and Tsumiki’s back-to-school haul.  (And a few things for (y/n) too, no matter how much she protested)
Grimacing, Satoru smacked a twenty on his nightstand with the warning that any more, and he’d tell (y/n) he acted up all night and should be punished.  Megumi stuck his tongue out at the man as he flipped off the lights and shut the door for the night.
Joke’s on him, the boy thought bitterly as he settled into his blankets.  (y/n) would believe me over that grown child any day of the week, he thinks with certainty.  He wasn’t wrong.  If it was Satoru’s word against Megumi’s, the liar was evident in his charming smile and flashing eyes.
Satoru had just come back to the living room to clean up the small mess of blankets they’d made when the doorknob rattled with the familiar sound of a key unlocking it.  (y/n) dragged her feet as she made her way inside, a bit surprised to see Satoru awake and alert, her collection of throw blankets draped over his arms and shoulders.
“How’d the assignment go?” He asked as she kicked off her boots, flinging them towards the door with lazy movements.
“I completed it, let’s leave it at that,” She says, and he’d take concern in her words if they weren’t followed by a chuckle, and a small smile sent his way.  “Thank you for watching the kids, Satoru, I really appreciate it” 
He thinks back to this night often, as it was the beginning of (y/n) putting some trust in him as a caretaker.  
Every few weeks now he’d show up in the evening to put the kids to bed while she was out exorcizing curses.  Babysitting slowly morphed into him inviting himself over for movie nights, or even for no reason at all.  The kids- yes, Megumi too- grew used to the man showing up unannounced, before school while (y/n) made breakfast, or during pickup time right by her side, seemingly just as excited to greet them as she was.  He just seemed to be around, sometimes.  Tsumiki loved it, as it usually meant spoiling with toys and ice cream and whatever else (y/n) would let him get away with.  Megumi… tolerated it.  But at least he didn’t despise it anymore.
There was a morning (y/n) had gotten a call from Jujutsu Tech just as she was prepping their lunches for that day, and to her luck Satoru was there and happy to make their lunches for them so that she didn’t have to ignore what could potentially be an important call.
“Okay, just, do you mind making them a little drawing or note, too?” She’d rummaged through a messy cabinet drawer to produce a pack of post-it notes and a pink marker.  “I always leave them a message, or a doodle, or something” 
With her phone pressed between her shoulder and ear as she intently listened to whoever was on the other end, Satoru grinned as he accepted this mission, and got to work.
It wasn’t until she picked them up from school that (y/n) realized her mistake.  Megumi was clutching his stomach as he hobbled towards her in the courtyard, while Tsumiki was skipping along beside her brother, happier than ever.
“What’s wrong? Tummy hurt?” (y/n) knelt down before the boy, her hand resting over her forehead to see if it was a fever.  He groaned and practically fell against her.
“Carry me” 
It wasn’t like him, so she had to laugh as she slung his little backpack over her arm before lifting him up, hearing him groan and moan as all the sweets in his stomach sloshed around like poison.
“Gojo gave us candy! And cookies!” 
(y/n’s) head swiveled down to where Tsumiki was walking- well, still skipping- at her side. 
“What did you say?” 
“Gojo gave us sweets for lunch,” Megumi grumbled as his head slumped into her shoulder, his eyes squeezing shut as a particularly painful knot wound itself up in his stomach.  “And money” 
“What!?” (y/n) snapped, louder than she should have, as the other parents at pick-up gave her a mix of shocked and dirty looks.  Not that she cared.  Her kid was sick and it was because that idiot didn’t know what a vegetable looked like!
“I got fifty dollars!” Tsumiki cheered.
“I got a hundred” Megumi whined.
(y/n) gave the boy a few children’s tums as soon as they got back to the apartment, before tucking him into bed so he could hopefully sleep off the tummyache.
“You just rest, don’t worry about your homework, I’ll call the school if you can’t get to it tonight, okay?” 
Megumi only grumbled and groaned in his gratitude as he curled in on himself.  (y/n) frowned.  The poor kid was squirming around in discomfort and there wasn’t much else she could do about it.
Well, there was one thing…
“Hey sweetheart,” Satoru’s grin could be heard even through the phone.  “To what do I owe the pleasure of this call~?”
“Gojo Satoru, you get your ass to this apartment right now!” 
From her spot at the kitchen table where she’d been studiously doing her homework, Tsumiki perked right up at (y/n’s) hollering from the living room.  Her eyes went wide as she grinned with excitement.  She’d never seen (y/n) mad before, not like this anyways.
Just as she’d summoned him, the man himself stood before her in the living room, grinning as though he hadn’t just been screamed at.
“Pretty early in the day for a bootycall-” 
“Satoru!” (y/n) barked at him, her arms flying out as she placed her hands on her hips.  “Did you give the kids sweets and money for their lunch!?”
“Yeah, they loved it, right?” He looked proud, and she swore she could strangle him.
If she had a nickel for every time she didn’t strangle him…
Tsumiki couldn’t even pretend to do her homework while (y/n) went on a long rant about how much of an idiot was, followed by something about not knowing how to make a sandwich, and then the grand finale of her grabbing him by the wrist and yanking him down the hallway so he could see the effects of his unhealthy meal for Megumi.  Even as (y/n’s) scolding took on hushed whispers so as not to wake the sleeping boy, Tsumiki could still hear the harsh tone from down the hall.
When she was dragging him back towards the kitchen again, the young girl quickly picked up her pencil and kept her eyes on her paper.  She wasn’t fast enough, as Satoru noticed and stuck his tongue out at her.
‘Tattletale’ he mouthed at her.
She grinned back at him unapologetically.
(y/n) spent the next fifteen minutes giving Satoru a full tour of the kitchen, pointing out each and every item each of the kids loved, and then she dragged him through it all again to show him what they each disliked.  Tsumiki worked on her studies the whole time, and not once did she see the white haired man complain.  He certainly didn’t look pleased about spending his afternoon being scolded like a misbehaving pet, but he didn’t make a peep about it.
He even stuck around the rest of the afternoon to help out with any other chores (y/n) needed done, and he helped make dinner, too.  Well, (y/n) was the one instructing him on what to do, but Tsumiki found the meal to be edible, and actually semi-okay!
(y/n) let him get off easy, as long as he apologized to Megumi when he woke up.  Which he did, and which Megumi begrudgingly accepted.
He’s given the chance to completely redeem himself a few weeks later on a morning (y/n) made pancakes for breakfast.  He made the Fushiguro kids the perfect lunches as he’d called them, and he insisted only a heaping scoop of chocolate chips in his pancakes, not theirs.  (Though he did sneak a handful into Tsumiki’s grabby hands when she caught him dumping the entire bag into the batter).  He even added his own notes in their lunch bags, even though (y/n) had already put her own doodles in them.
Have a good day! Don’t forget to participate a lot so the teacher favors you and gives you good grades! He’d written for Tsumiki.
Make sure to tell (y/n/n) that this lunch was made extra special for you so i get some brownie points <3 Was Megumi’s note.
He rolled his eyes as he crumpled it up and threw it back into his lunch bag without a second thought.  When he’d brought it home that day and put it back in it’s spot in the cupboard he’d completely forgotten it.  So it sat there until the next morning when (y/n) was preparing their lunches again.
When she unzipped the bag to see the small piece of trash, she’d almost made the mistake of scolding Megumi for not throwing it away.  But for some reason curiosity got the best of her as she smoothed out the creases of the pink post-it, only to be gifted with a nervous swell of her heart.  She couldn’t explain why, but she tucked it away in her pocket and went about the rest of the morning with a smile on her face.  Megumi and Tsumiki were just glad to see her in a good mood, and didn’t question it too much.
The subject of the note didn’t come up again until the night of (y/n’s) twentieth birthday.
With it being such a big milestone, Shoko insisted on taking her out for the night.  She’d been twenty for a few months longer, and had been biting at the bit to have her best friend share nights with her on the dancefloor at the bar she’d been frequenting mostly alone.  Satoru would go with her sometimes as well, since he was of age too, but Shoko claimed it was no fun when he wouldn’t drink.  (y/n’s) birthday was a big deal.
So naturally and per Shoko’s demand, Satoru was set to babysit- as much as the Fushiguro kids hated the word- while Shoko took (y/n) out for the night.  And it went…
“Would you take the damn shoes off already? You’re going to break an ankle” Satoru’s arm shot out to stabilize the giggling, wasted girl stumbling beside him as he tried to guide her through her building’s lobby.
“No,” (y/n) shook her head defiantly before swatting his hand at her waist with the same attitude.  He didn’t move it, and she didn’t try to push off his help again.  “I loooove these shoes!” 
In an eager display she kicked her foot outwards, showing off the strappy heel that was already starting to untie at her ankle and droop a bit off of her foot.  To Satoru’s surprise, she actually kept her balance perfectly fine on one foot.
“Keep your feet on the ground,” He reprimands anyways, just as she goes back to walking normally.  “Don’t make me teleport you up there” 
“Don’t you dare!” She shouts back at him, and he has to fight off a laugh as he shushes her.
He’d seen (y/n) drink before, on the occasion Shoko or Suguru had managed to get their hands on anything, but he’d never seen her like this.  Although he’d been slightly annoyed when he’d been called to play designated teleporter and bring both girls home from their celebration at a club he’d never heard of.  The annoyance only increased tenfold when after the initial trip, (y/n) had warned him she was bound to be sick if he did it again.  Which led them here, with Satoru trying to corral her into the elevator at two in the morning.
He’d rought Shoko straight to the spare room, where she’d passed out on top of the covers without so much as a goodnight.  She’d wake up feeling like she’d been struck by a bus for sure, but at least she had no issue with the effects of teleporting.
She continued to grumble about her offense to his threat.  Satoru chuckled as he all but pulled her into the elevator.
“I’m not, I’m not,” He assured her, making sure she was steady leaning back against the wall before pressing the button for her floor.  “You’re not gonna get sick in here, are you?” 
She shakes her head, but her eyes are closed as she cranes her neck all the way back, grinning at who-knows-what.  Nothing amusing had happened- besides her own drunken antics- but Satoru finds himself infected by her, and he’s smiling as well.
“It was sooo m’ch fun,” She answered his unspoken curiosity.  “Shoko’s a realllyy good dancer, I had n’ idea” 
“I’m glad it was fun,” He tells her, and he means it.  Even when he has to guide her off the elevator and to her door like it was her first time there.  “You’ll have to take me dancing with you next time, I could show you some moves” 
Normally she rolls her eyes at his flirting, or hits his shoulder in that silent motion she always does to remind him that they were friends and she’d drawn a thick line in the sand just to prove it.  Tonight, she giggles like she couldn’t have kept her humor and joy contained if she tried.  Her teeth flash as she grins from ear to ear, her eyes crinkle and they smudge some of her mascara against her skin as they do but she doesn’t seem to care.  She doesn’t seem to notice.  She just smiles and laughs at him.
His heart warms, so much he worries it might melt completely if he leaves it there in the palms of her hands, but he lets it remain in it’s place anyway as he pauses at the door of her apartment, lingering in the hall for just a moment longer so he could admire her like this.
Happy.  Happy with him.
Satoru might be delusional, but her head tilts to the side, almost dropping to her shoulder from how heavy it feels, and he thinks from the look in her eye, that maybe she could be admiring him, too.
Reality is cruel and reminds him that even if she was, she wasn’t in the right state of mind, and she very well could have been lost in her thoughts.  So he pushes his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose before unlocking the door and making sure she walked in okay.
“You’re home!” 
The excited cheer from Tsumiki is quickly drowned out by Satoru’s scolding.
“What are you both doing up?” He asked, uncharacteristically irritated with them.
“You left,” Tsumiki shrugged innocently.
Megumi, who sat beside her on the sofa, seemed to have fallen asleep against the armrest, his arms wrapped around his head for a better cushion as he continued to slumber, even through his sister’s loud shriek.
“And we wanted to give (y/n) her birthday present” The girl finished sweetly.
“It’s two in the morning, it’s not even her birthday anym-” 
“Awww!” (y/n) cooed as she clasped her hands over her mouth in shock.  “Tsu that’s so sweet of you! I can’t wait to see it!” 
It took some arguing, but Satoru eventually convinced (y/n) to get her ridiculous heels off while he put the kids back to bed.  Megumi didn’t fuss once when he picked him up off the couch.  He didn’t even bat an eye.  Tsumiki was a bit more upset with the trip back to bed.
“But she wants her present!” 
“You can give it to her in the morning,” Satoru told her.  “It’s late.  She’s going to crash.  Trust me, she’ll be far more excited about it tomorrow” 
Tsumiki pouted as she begrudgingly climbed into bed, but didn’t argue again after Satoru tucked her in and shut her door for the night.  She even gave him a small goodnight.
“Sweet dreams, kiddo” 
“Is (y/n) going to be okay?” She asked before he could shut the door all the way.  He laughed to himself, nodding his head.
“Nothing to worry about, she might just have a tummy ache.  She’ll sleep it off,” He assured her.  Tsumiki nodded back at him as she settled back into her feathery pillow, overwhelmed by her sleepiness rather quickly.  “Just get some sleep, I’ll take care of her” 
Tsumiki seems satisfied with this answer, as she nods and starts to drift off to sleep.  What Megumi lacked in faith in Satoru, Tsumiki made up for tenfold.  For starters, she seemed to actually like him.  She was always happy to have him as company, always trying to climb up to his shoulders and demanding he piggy back her anywhere they went.  Megumi tended to cling to (y/n’s) side, knowing she’d protect him from Satoru’s physical affections.  But secondly, Tsumiki could pick up on the sweet little things that her younger brother didn’t.  She noticed the way that Satoru listened when (y/n) was talking.  The way his eyes never lost focus when they were on her, the way his teasing picked up, as did the pet names.  Honestly, Tsumiki wasn’t sure if Megumi didn’t notice, or if he was completely ignoring it, because it was hard to miss.  
Satoru was very sweet on (y/n).
So when he said he’d take care of her for the night, Tsumiki believed him.
Before Satoru can make his way back to the living room where he’d left the plastered birthday girl, he could hear her across the hall, a soft voice through the open door opposite of Tsumiki’s.
He peeks his head through the crack in the door, about to chastise her for waking up the sleeping eight year old, but the scold dies in his throat as he catches sight of them.
She’s perched on the side of his bed, one leg tucked under herself as she hums a gentle, melodic tune.  One hand is combing through the mess of Megumi’s hair that’s grown tangled from his tossing and turning, and he doesn’t seem to stir or be bothered at all from the action like he usually is when someone touches his hair.  But even more out of character than that, when (y/n) reaches her free hand to grab the one that Megumi had hanging off his mattress, he lets her hold onto it for a lingering minute after she carefully sets it on a more comfortable place over his covers.  A few lyrics slip past her lips in a murmur of a lullaby amidst her humming.  She gives his hand a squeeze, just a gentle little affirmation to remind him that she was there.
Even from the doorway, Satoru can see the boy’s small fingers wrap around her hand, squeezing back, and then keeping his hold on her.  His initial surprise melts away into something softer.  A warm feeling washing over his chest from knowing that Megumi found a comfort in the woman’s presence, and while he was often too reserved to tell her outright, like his sister would, it was still known that (y/n’s) care for these kids was mutual, returned by the both of them greatly.
With a small smile, (y/n) glances over to Satoru in the hallway, as though to silently ask if he’d seen the small action.  He nodded back at her, before beckoning her to leave the room and let the boy sleep.
“Sleep tight, ‘gumi,” She mumbles softly, giving his head an affectionate scratch before pulling her hand from his hair.  “Love you” 
It was small, but undeniably heard when the half-conscious child mumbles back, “Love you too” 
(y/n) pauses as she’s standing from his bed, her eyes widening with soft surprise at the whispered words.  It hits her then that in the few times she’d casually bestowed them upon the kids it was never quite returned.  Megumi had drifted off to sleep just as her weight had shifted off his mattress, but still, she stood over him with a look on her face as if she expected an explanation.
Not that she needed one- the words spoke for themselves.  Her lips curled into a smile and the alcohol in her system wasn’t the only thing making her chest feel warm.  She gave his hand another squeeze before carefully letting go, making sure it stayed in a place where it wouldn’t hang off the bed again.
On the tips of her toes she leaves the room to join Satoru in the hall.  He makes sure the door is silent as he closes it behind her.
Her small smile breaks into a grin as she gazes up at him, unable to contain her excitement from hearing those silly little words.
“Did you hear that?” She murmurs as her hands grab the front of his shirt.  The quick motion almost has him stumbling as she bounces eagerly.  “He’s never said that to me before!” Her whispered squealing has Satoru mirroring her grin.
“I heard.  I’m happy for you sweetheart,” He tells her, trying to guide her to her room so she could finally crash for the night.  She stumbles along much more pliantly than she had before.  “Not that you needed him to tell you, of course the kid loves you.  They both do” 
A bashful shade of pink dusts her face as they enter her bedroom.  She falls back onto her bed with a content sigh, despite Satoru trying to get her to change into something more comfortable than the fitted little thing she’d called a dress that she’d gone out dancing in.
“I guess I knew that, but, still, it’s nice to hear,” She murmurs up at the ceiling as she stretches her arms across the length of her bed.  She’s bent over it, her toes barely touching the floor as her legs dangle off the side, but in her stupor she seems comfortable enough.  “Makes me feel like I’m doing something right, yaknow?” 
She pats the spot beside her with her hand, and Satoru drags his feet a bit as he wanders over and sits next to her.
“You don’t need to be told that either,” He muses.  
He rests his palms behind him as he lets himself get comfortable in her space.  When they still lived in dorms, he spent just as much time in her room as he did his own.  Now that he thinks about it, he was probably in hers much more than anyone else’s.  It hadn’t seemed weird back then, but now, it feels personal.  Intimate.  He wonders if she feels that way, or if the invitation into her most private space had been extended without a second thought.  Satoru pulls the shades off his face and tosses them to the side, between the two of them.
“They know you love them, too.  Always have,” He reassures her.  “You’ve done right by them.  You gotta know that” 
(y/n) tilts her head back against the covers, peering up at him from under heavy eyelids as he gazes down at her fondly.  Her room is only lit by the hallway light that’s peeking in through the crack in her not-quite-closed door, and the soft yellow hue paints over his face in a way that somehow makes him more alluring.  Her lowered defenses had her eyes wandering his features longer than she would have had her sober mind worked correctly and reminded her to shut down that curiosity.
That is, she stares at him until the heat in her face and the rapid beating of her heart overstimulates her and she makes herself look away before she says or does something she might regret.
When she does break her long stare, her eyes land on the familiar round shades that happen to be in arm’s reach, and she grabs them and pulls them over her face without a second thought.
Without permission, her mind wanders off to wonder what would’ve happened between them had they gone on that date all those months ago before they graduated.
It’s harder to make out her face with his oversized sunglasses covering her eyes, but Satoru can see her lips tug into a frown.  He’s about to ask her what’s on her mind when she speaks first.
“Would you stay the night?” 
Her fingers are wound into the soft fabric of her covers, fisting it tightly as though it kept her anchored.
“Shoko’s in your spare room already,” He chuckles as he reminds her.  “And she’s hogging the whole bed.  I think if I wake her up she’ll mur-” 
“You can stay in here,” She’s mumbling, half incoherently, but he hears her just fine.  “Like… before” She adds as an afterthought.
He can’t deny the way his heart lurches in his chest at the offer, and the reminder.  The nights he spent sneaking into her dorm to coax her into at least a few hours of sleep, until she’d learned again how to sleep through a night on her own, he’d hold onto forever.  He’d sworn to commit them to memory.  The way she’d melt into his arms, as though she’d only know comfort and solace when embraced by them.  The way she felt against him, against his chest, with her legs wrapped around his, with her face in the crook of his neck, with her hands gripping onto his shirt for dear life, with her heart beating against his.  Satoru had overindulged himself back then, he’d gotten too much of a taste of what domesticity with her could feel like.  Now he craved it, he desperately yearned for it.
The last time they’d even slept in the same room had been the night before their meeting with the Zen’in Clan.  And she’d been far from him, curled up on the floor with that damned letter in her hands.  Satoru wondered now if she still had it.  He wondered if she still slept clutching onto something.  He wondered if she was able to sleep soundly without him now.
He’s sure that he shouldn’t dip even a finger back into this addiction.  He doesn’t think he’ll be able to stand it when she inevitably tells him this is the last time, and pushes him away, again.  
Just like she had done when he’d tried to make them something more.
It’s just one assignment, sweetheart, he’d told her over the phone, knowing fully well that she was all done up on the other end, waiting for him to pick her up at their agreed upon time.  We’ll rain check, promise.
She’d taken in a shaky breath, he could hear it even through the phone, even with the downpour of rain in Yokohama.  He always wondered if she’d cried that day, over him, over the failed attempt at a date, over his failure at showing up for her.
I don’t think it’s a good idea, ‘toru, she’d spoken as evenly as she could, even though it made her voice quieter.
How ‘bout tomorrow, hm? You can pick the place this time, anywhere you want, s’on me- He’d tried to convince her before she could put an end to this thing before it’d even started- hell, they’d barely even had a chance, hadn’t they? 
But her mind had already been made up.  And with a breaking heart, she’d shut him down.
I don’t just mean tonight, she’d said.  I don’t think this is a good idea.
God, he should’ve just stood his ground to the higher ups like he usually did and made someone else take on this stupid assignment.  He wanted to blame them for ruining his one perfect chance with this girl, but at the end of the day, he’d let her decide.  He let her be the one to end it before it really began.
I just… I just need to think about the kids right now, she’d sighed through her words.  As far as excuses go, it wasn’t necessarily a bad one.  They need to come first to me and… and your future should come first to you, too.
He should’ve called bullshit.  He knows that now.  He shouldn't have sat there and agreed with her because he didn’t want them to fight.  Fuck.  He should’ve argued, even if it had meant fighting with her.  As long as it also meant he could’ve seen what she’d chosen to wear for their date, how she’d done her hair, her makeup, then it would’ve been worth it.
I know you’re favored far more over me, but we’ll both always have assignments, she’d explained it like he didn’t already know what this chapter of their lives would look like.  Then again, he’d sat there in silence and let her pour out reason after reason as to why they couldn’t do this.  
Satoru still wasn’t sure if it was him she was trying to convince that day.
And I… and I wouldn’t forgive myself if things didn’t… work… you know? She’d finished shakily, nervously.  For the kids’ sake, Satoru, she’d told him.  For your sake.  For my sake.
He’d agreed.  He’d stupidly agreed.  They never talked about it again after that phone call.  For the most part, nothing had changed.
Except that first time he’d seen her afterwards.  She had a hard time looking at him, and shifted her weight between her feet when he stood too close.  But over time they got back into the groove of their friendship.  He remained abundantly affectionate, and she remained oblivious to the less-than obvious advances.
It was a surprise to him now that she was blurring the lines between them- the lines she’d drawn.  Would it be reckless of him to indulge once more? Would it be painful in the morning when she shooed him away before anyone could know he stayed here, with her? 
Probably.
But what he says is, “Yeah, if you’re sure” 
He does manage to convince her into changing into the comfiest pair of pajamas she could find, so that when she woke it was one less discomfort added to the long list of grievances her hangover would have in store.  Somehow, he gets her to put on a change of clothes and brush her teeth before she’s crawling into her bed with a lazy smile.  It’s almost three in the morning at this point, but worrying about the time is far from Satoru’s mind as she settles into his side like it was still second nature.
Long after she’d dozed off tucked under his arm, he laid there awake, wondering how different things could have been, had he plucked up the courage to say no.  To say this will work, because we want it to work, because I want it to work, because I’ve wanted nothing but to be yours.
But tonight, the only one in this apartment with any guts is Megumi.  Only Megumi was strong enough to articulate how he felt with those special little words that were too heavy for Satoru’s tongue.
With bags under his eyes and sluggish muscles Satoru gets out of bed as soon as he awakes to make breakfast for the full house.  Megumi and Tsumiki are up first, eager for the breakfast buffet Satoru had managed to give them without the smoke alarm going off.  Shoko drags herself out to the kitchen not too long after, downing a full cup of water before bidding them good morning and snagging some of the potatoes before Tsumiki could dump them all on her plate.
Satoru and Shoko tell unflattering stories about (y/n) with great excitement for gossip to the kids while their missing caretaker slept in as late as possible.  Satoru had made sure to bring a cold face mask to her every fifteen minutes or so to keep her headache at bay and hopefully let her sleep as long as she could.  Once she awoke she was in for a world of hurt.  Each time Satoru left the kitchen to do this for her, Shoko turned to the kids with a knowing look and a snicker.
“They were in love in school you know,” She indulged in a more interesting piece of gossip during one of these times.
Tsumiki’s eyes widened as she grinned.  Megumi’s brows furrowed as he pressed his lips together tightly.
“He’d follow her around like a lost puppy, it was hilarious” Shoko shoved a forkful of carbs into her mouth with a fond smile at the memories of lovesick Satoru.
“He still does that” Megumi mumbles, staring down at the remainder of food on his plate.
Shoko beamed with her cheeks full, not at all surprised by the behavior, but endeared to know it hadn’t worn off in time.  Satoru had changed a lot in the last six months, although some might have a hard time noticing, those close to him could see the heaviness he carried on his shoulders with little mannerisms and micro expressions that even he might be convinced aren’t there.  To Shoko and (y/n), who knew the boy like the back of their hand, it was clear.
However she should’ve known that the feelings he’d held for (y/n) since they were fifteen weren’t the kind of feelings that could be worn away.
Satoru’s back in the kitchen attempting to make pancakes in the fun shapes that (y/n) does, desperate to impress everyone- mostly Megumi- but they come out a little more lumpy than hers do.  He complains about it the whole time.  Megumi and Shoko are indifferent.  Tsumiki reassures him that they’re delicious, like the sweetheart she was.
(y/n) joins them for a brief minute, dragging her feet, and a blanket, into the kitchen on a journey to get a big cup of ice water.  The plastic face mask that Satoru had just brought her was velcroed around her head, although loosely, as half of it stayed on her forehead and the other half slipped over one of her eyes.  She made no efforts to fix it.
Shoko’s giggling with great amusement at the state of her lightweight friend.  The blanket cape, the messy hair, the smeared mascara on her exposed eye, it was all too humorous.  She started to pull her phone out to take a picture, but knowing what she was up to, Satoru snatched the device and pocketed it discreetly.  He gave her a sour look, to which she rolled her eyes and went back to breakfast.
He’d fussed over her right away, asking what she was doing up, that he could’ve brought her anything she needed and that she should’ve just hollered.  The three at the table watch as he adjusts her mask for her, reattaching the velcro to fit her snugly, keeping the cool parts of the gel-filled plastic against her throbbing forehead.
Shoko cackles not-so-discreetly behind her hand when he asks her if she was alright for a fourth time.  After a solid minute of insisting that he’d get everything for her, she shuffles back to the comfort of her dark room.
Satoru is quick to fill a cup to the brim with ice and then water, and rather than walk the ten feet to her door, he teleports it to her.  Shoko rolls her eyes and shares a smile with Tsumiki.
“Yeah, nothing’s changed”
It takes a few hours for (y/n) to feel rejuvenated enough to take a shower and join the group lazing around the living room.  Shoko had stayed for the day, so Satoru insisted they take turns picking movies.  (y/n) appears like a woman brought back to life halfway through the second film.  Satoru and Shoko cheer for her revival as she plops on the couch between Tsumiki and Satoru.
“Can we give you your present now?” Tsumiki asks, to which (y/n) eagerly accepts, so she and her brother rush out of the room to retrieve it.
With the kids gone, Shoko can finally give her friends the interrogation she’d been dying to all morning.
“So, you still sleep together, huh?” She raises a curious eyebrow.
(y/n) sighs, dropping her head back against the couch cushion, still feeling too light headed for this conversation.  Satoru doesn’t say anything either, though (y/n) can’t tell if he’s avoiding the conversation, or just didn’t know how to explain himself.  It doesn’t matter, Shoko doesn’t have any more questions, and shortly after, the Fushiguro kids are running into the room again.
They each have a hand on the brightly colored gift bag as they hand it to her.  (y/n) beams at their excitement as she eyes all of the tissue paper they’d stuffed into the bag.
“You help with this?” She muses to Satoru, who shakes his head, looking just as curious as she was.
“We did it all ourselves!” Tsumiki said with a proud grin.
(y/n) pulls out wad after wad of tissue, placing them all on the coffee table as she digs for her gift.  When she finally does get to the bottom of the bag, her lips morph into an ‘o’ as she lifts the piece of art out from the bag.
Shoko’s eyes widen, and Satoru begins to laugh while (y/n) carefully holds the small clay sculpture in her hands.  It couldn’t have been bigger than her hand, but the details were made of delicate pieces of clay, and she worried that if she didn’t handle it with care, it could crumble at her touch.
It was two blades, intersecting to make a perfect X.  The handles sculpted and painted to look quite familiar.
“It’s your swords!” Tsumiki cheered, holding her hands to her face to contain her excitement.
“Wow, this is amazing,” (y/n) admired the sculpture further, taking note of every detail, from blade to hilt, it was a damn good replica.  “You both made this?” 
Tsumiki and Megumi each nodded.
“Tsumiki did the clay, I painted it” Megumi explained.
“We got extra credit in our art classes for it too!” 
Satoru’s laughter grew louder, and (y/n’s) eyes widened with realization as she looked back at the kids.
“You… you made this in school?” She asked, trying not to wince.  “Did you… get in trouble?” 
Sure, the piece was perfect, and their collaboration did deserve some bonus points, but had no administrator gotten upset that an eight and ten year old made a weapon for their art project? 
“I told our art teacher it was from an anime character” Megumi said sheepishly.  (y/n’s) posture relaxed with her relief.
“Smart call,” She chuckles, before setting it down and reaching out to them both to pull them into a hug.  “Thank you.  I love it.  I love that you made it together” 
She sets it on a shelf in the living room with a few other pieces of art and picture frames, making sure to have it be front and center.  Throughout the rest of the movie watching day, her eyes keep wandering to it, wanting to admire the thoughtful craft a little longer. _
Over the next few months, Megumi had been pouting a lot more often.
(y/n) wasn’t sure what it was.  She and Satoru would make his favorite meal for dinner, and he would eat it with a bored expression.  Even with a trip to the library, more practice with his Divine Dogs, extending his bed time for reading purposes only, the boy just seemed to be in a bitter rut.
At first she was worried for him, but Tsumiki had confirmed that nothing was happening at school, he wasn’t being picked on, and his grades, as always, were exceptional.  (y/n) didn’t know what that could possibly leave.
“I just don’t get it,” She huffed as she slumped down into the couch beside Satoru, who had been spending most of his free time at the apartment now.  Some nights he even stayed over, but he always took the guest room.
The night of (y/n’s) birthday had proven to be too much for him.  So when she offered him to stay the night, he made a beeline for the spare bed.  (y/n) never pushed him on it.  But sometimes when they parted ways in the hall, she’d stare at the back of his head, and wonder if he could tell that she’d rather he stayed with her.
Satoru is also caved into the couch cushions, legs spread out wide before him and his arms crossed over his chest.  He looked tired.  He’d spent the whole evening giving Megumi tips and tricks to summoning and befriending his shikigami, hoping to lift the boy’s mood, and maybe score some brownie points, but to no avail.  The boy seemed to have more of an attitude with him than usual, and Satoru wasn’t the best with kids, so he’d given up, and pushed the responsibility back onto (y/n).  Megumi had less of an attitude with her, but his annoyance was still noticeable.
“Do you think we did something?” She mumbles, turning to Satoru with wide, worried eyes, and pinched brows.  Then, she scoots closer to him, until they’re sharing one of the cushions.  He doesn’t flinch at her closeness, unless you count the small hitch in his breath.  “Do you think I did something?” She rephrases her question in an even more haunted whisper.
“No, no of course not,” He shakes his head at her, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head.  “He’s a kid.  Kids are just jerks sometimes” 
“He is not a jerk,” (y/n) says with narrowed eyes.  Satoru shrugs back at her, tilting his lips into a smirk.  “But… he is a kid.  I guess he could just be… acting out” 
“I acted out all the time when I was his age” Satoru nods as he starts to understand some of Megumi’s behavior.
(y/n) rolled her eyes at him.
“You still act out,” She says, and he wants to act offended when he turns to her again, but it’s too cute when she’s pretending to be annoyed with him, so he finds himself smiling at her, almost proudly.  “You’re the jerk, you know” 
“Me?” He holds a hand over his chest, and she giggles quietly to herself at the act.  “You break my heart, Little Hex” 
Again she rolls her eyes as she leans her head back into the couch cushion, letting out her frustration and exhaustion from the day in a quiet sigh.  It had been a while since Satoru had called her that, a nickname he’d coined back in high school.  She could still remember the first time he called her that, with that saccharine smile and shining eyes, like he was waiting for a reaction.  Boy, did he get one.  Somehow with his predictable flirtations, he still managed to make her blush and fluster.  Even now, she felt her face warm at the fond nickname.
“You’ll get over it, Gojo,” She muses in response, letting her eyes fall shut.  “Hey…” She starts to speak again, but trails off, and her eyes are still closed when he looks over at her to give her his attention.
“Hm?” 
“Do you think… he misses his dad?” 
The question hangs between them for a minute.  (y/n) gnaws on her cheek as her eyes glaze over, getting lost in her messy trains of thoughts that were all beginning to collide.  It was no secret that Megumi held a resentment towards his father, more so than his sister, but (y/n) couldn’t help but wonder if a part of him, the part that was growing up, was starting to feel hurt by the space Fushiguro Toji had left behind.
“He might,” Satoru answers honestly, quietly.  (y/n’s) brows fall as her lips tug into a frown.  Of all the things she could fix, all the questions she could answer, that was one thing she had no control over.  “It’s probably complicated.  He might not think he does, you know?”
(y/n) nods absentmindedly, her teeth digging into her bottom lip now as she worries for the young boy.  
What was she supposed to do? All the love and support in the world wouldn’t make up for the man that was supposed to look out for them walking out.  His mother was one thing, he couldn’t even remember her.  But he had a face to his father’s name.  He had memories.  Maybe even love that he’d buried.  The thought makes her stomach twist with guilt.
“I barely remember my parents,” She whispers, and despite the fact that she’s staring at the ceiling with a hardened, fixed gaze, Satoru turns to her when she says this.  “They’re not gone… but they may as well be.  After I was enrolled at Jujutsu Tech…” 
She didn’t need to explain any further.  Satoru already knew the heartbreak she’d gone through as a young child, having non-sorcerers for parents that looked down upon jujutsu society.  She’d shared her story with him once, when they were no older than fifteen, and Satoru was certain he’d never shake a single detail out of his memory.  She held the same look in her eye now that she did back then as she recalled how she’d been shunned for not following a more ‘honorable’ path.
It wasn’t often she thought of her family- she hardly considered those people family anyways- but now they cross her mind as she empathizes with Megumi.
“It’s not the same, I know,” She sighs, shaking her head as though to erase their faces like an etch-a-sketch.  Even after all these years, she hasn’t quite forgotten them.  “But… losing family at a young age sticks with you,” 
Finally, she turns her head to one side, meeting his watchful stare.
“Whether you want it to or not” 
Satoru frowned.
“Missing people is hard like that,” He sighs.
Neither one of them have the strength to talk about him though, so he glides over the topic and brings their focus back to Megumi.
“But he’s still a little kid.  You give him a lot of credit for being so mature, it’s spooky, but he’s going to process things like a little kid,” He reminds her.  “You’re not doing anything wrong.  Neither is he.  He’s just…” 
“Processing” (y/n) mumbles softly.
He nods back at her, bringing his elbow to the top of the couch so he could prop his head in his hand.
“Have you ever…” Satoru trails off, deciding mid sentence if it was a good idea to ask her this question.  She waits patiently for him to continue, in need of any kind of advice on the situation.  “Have you ever thought about opening up to him? You know like… relating to him?”
She blinks, but the rest of her expression doesn’t change.  Not a single movement.  Satoru thinks he might have suggested the wrong thing, but before he can take it back, she gives him a small smile.
“You know, that’s actually not a bad idea,” She hums, and she can see he’s shocked that she thought so.  “You’re almost getting decent at this parenting thing” 
He chuckles, dropping his hand from his head to stretch his arm across the length of the couch, beckoning her to come closer.  She huffs in defiance, but doesn’t have any further protest as she slides closer to him, until their legs are pressed together and her head leans into his shoulder.
“I’m learning from the best” He chuckles like it’s a tease, but his words couldn’t have been more genuine.
It took some time for (y/n) to approach the subject with the boy.
But it was one night while they were walking home late together that just felt like the right time.  It was just the two of them, (y/n) had brought him to a secluded place in the woods they found where it was safe for him to practice summoning his shikigami, while Satoru stayed at the apartment with Tsumiki.
It was late, the sun had gone down an hour ago, and the streets had cleared enough to give them a bit of privacy as they made their way back to the apartment.
So she figured, here goes nothing.
“Has something been bothering you, Megumi?” 
At first he drops his head, staring down at the sidewalk as he mulled over the question.  If (y/n) focused enough, she could see the gears in his head turning, weighing his options, the pros and cons, thinking through the possibilities of where this conversation could go.  Had she not been worried about him, she might have giggled at how cutely the eight year old processed any question asked of him.
“You don’t need me to remind you that you can tell me anything,” She tells him honestly, glancing up at the stars beginning to shine through the night sky.  “You’re allowed to be upset about things, you know” 
“I know” He finally mumbles out, kicking a stray pebble in his path. 
On uneven edges, it rolls awkwardly onto (y/n’s) side of the path.  She gently kicks it back to his side.  They play this little game in silence for a few minutes, until Megumi kicks it with too much enthusiasm and it’s sent into the storm drain.  Teasingly, (y/n) tells him she’s won.
“I feel bad for being upset” 
She looks down at him upon this confession, tilting her head curiously, wondering what it could be that he’s been carrying that’s making him feel so lost.
“That happens sometimes,” She treads lightly.  “As long as you know that you shouldn’t.  You can’t help what you feel, you know” 
Megumi sighs, his shoulders slumping forward with a restlessness he was far too young to feel.
“I guess,” He replies, because he knows she’s right.  Still, it was hard to be comforted when there was a loom of guilt hanging over his head like a storm cloud.  “I don’t think I like love” 
(y/n) hums as she takes in the statement.  It was heavier than he’d realized, and it took her a minute to really think about it, about what he must be feeling.  She had a sneaking suspicion that this was about his father, after all.
“Love is complicated, isn’t it,” She sighs, and it’s not a question, moreso a statement of fact.  Megumi doesn’t say anything.  “The world will tell you it’s unconditional.  When in fact… people don’t work like that, do they?” 
He looks up at her, his eyes round with shock, like she’d told him a great secret that he shouldn’t have been allowed to hear.  Santa isn’t real, or this is all a simulation.
“Individual people are so different, and they’re meant to be, aren’t they?” This time she waits for his response, but Megumi can only muster up a nod.  She takes it.  “Everyone has their standards, their conditions.  Even you, right?” 
“I don’t like it when people are mean for no reason” Megumi comments, and (y/n) smiles as she nods at him, affirming that he understood what she was saying.
“Exactly,” She muses.  “It’s just… some people’s conditions… well, they’re unreachable.  Impossible.  Sometimes they’re outright dumb” 
Honestly, Megumi’s not sure where this little rant is coming from, but he finds himself hanging onto her every word anyways.  It intrigued him, the way she described love.  He’d never heard someone speak about it with such… distaste.
Usually adults tried to tell him that love is the ultimate happiness.  Romantic love, familial love, platonic love, whatever it may be.  He was always reminded that love was powerful, beautiful, transcendent.  To hear (y/n) speak of it now like it was a trick to be wary of was confusing to him, but he was intent on learning more.
“I’ve never talked to you about my family, have I?” She asks, and again, it’s less of a question, and more of a prompt, a catch for him to realize that no, she’d never mentioned anything about a family.  She only ever spoke of her classmates and colleagues at Jujutsu Tech.
Megumi shakes his head, feeling his guilt hovering over his head again as he realizes he’d never even thought to ask about the subject.
“Well, there’s a reason,” (y/n) says, easing some of his anxiety.  “They had conditions to their love.  Ones that I couldn’t meet.  Or, refused to, is more like it” 
“Really?” Megumi’s eyes widened with surprise.
“Yep,” She affirmed.  “They didn’t want me to be a jujutsu sorcerer” 
Now he looked like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.  His mouth dropped open and his eyes grew impossibly bigger.
“Why?” 
“They weren’t gifted like you and me,” She explains.  “They were non-sorcerers, had never even heard of jujutsu society.  So you can imagine their surprise when their kid started teleporting all around the house.  I was a handful, you know,” 
Megumi lets out a little giggle at the idea, and (y/n) smiles warmly that he’s starting to break down the walls he’d been building up around him in his seclusion.  
“I was no older than you when my cursed technique manifested,” She tells him.  “And it wasn’t long until someone from the school found me” 
“Just like you came to us?” Megumi asked.
(y/n) tilted her head from side to side.
“It was a bit different,” She admitted.  “They wanted to enroll me at the school, train me to properly hone my technique, teach me about the real world of jujutsu, it was a big ask.  A big change” 
“But your parents didn’t want you to go?” Megumi’s brows furrowed.
(y/n) nodded down at him.
“They forbid it” 
The boy shook his head, trying to understand, but he was struggling, too puzzled by this story.
“But, why?” He asked.  “Jujutsu sorcerers are good! You have cool powers- that- that can help people,” He looked up at her with his face contorted by his confusion.  “Why didn’t they understand?” 
(y/n) gives him a sad smile.  She’d asked herself that same question for years after she’d left her home in pursuit of something greater than it, greater than her.
She looks forward as they continue their walk, not too far from the apartment building now.
“They were so worried about losing their kid, that they didn’t think about the damage they’d do by keeping them from following their passion,” She told him the truth, as harsh as it sounded.  “And they ended up losing me anyways” 
It’s quiet for a few beats, until Megumi let out a soft, “Oh” 
“Megumi,” (y/n) calls, reaching down for his hand.  
He lets her grasp onto it.  They stop in their tracks, and he turns to face her.  She still has that small, sad smile on her face.  He recognizes this smile.  She wears it when she’s trying to make him feel better, when she’s trying to convince someone, or herself, that things are alright.  He’s seen this smile so many times now that he wishes she would just frown, but he knows she won’t.  He knows that until the day she leaves this earth she’s going to be the strong one, the one that protects them, no matter the cost.  He’d learned this shortly after meeting her, but he didn’t come to really understand it until the day he was almost taken away from her, and from his sister.
Megumi is a child.  And while (y/n) had grown older in age, and quite a bit in maturity, she really wasn’t that much older than him, in the grand scheme of things.  She’d given up more than just a summer vacation after graduating in order to take in him and his sister.  She’d never talk about it, but Megumi has picked up on the fact that if she wasn’t so busy playing caretaker, then she would have been able to pursue more of her real passion, exorcizing curses.  Sure, she still took plenty of assignments, but it was hard to take the big ones overseas, or the higher grade curses, because she couldn’t leave the two of them alone for too long.
(y/n) crouches before him now, his hand still in hers, and that melancholic smile still present on her lips.
“I believe that your dad loved you, so, so much,” 
His brows furrowed together.  My dad? He thought to himself, as if the words didn’t translate to his language, as if he couldn’t quite remember what they meant, or who they referred to.
“I believe that he did the things he did because he wanted to do what he could for you.  I know it doesn’t make sense now… and honestly it might never make sense.  But I think he was trying to do right by you both he just…” 
She trails off, and for a split second, that false smile falters, and falls into a sad expression that he’d rarely gotten to see on her.  Something snags in Megumi’s chest, an uneven beat of his heart, a pain in his ribs he wasn’t familiar with.
“He just didn’t know how,” She finishes softly, and just as quickly she’s crafting her face to be gentle and comforting again.  “But I’m sorry that he’s not here” 
Megumi tilts his head at her curiously, trying to speculate on what it was to make her say these things to him.
“That’s okay,” He says in a tone that has (y/n) feeling a bit confused too.  Her hand loosens around his, and he pulls away, about to continue their walk.  She quickly stands to walk beside him.  “I don’t really think about him anyways” 
“You don’t?” She asks.  Megumi shakes his head.
“No, he doesn’t really matter, does he?” 
Wow, (y/n) thinks.  What an emotionally mature child.  But if it wasn’t his absent-now-dead father bugging him, what had been on his mind?
“Hey (y/n),” Megumi calls before she can ask him her question, and she gives him her attention.  “What are your conditions?” 
“My conditions?” She repeats, although she knows what he means.
“Yeah” Megumi replies in a small voice.
“Silly kid,” She giggles and ruffles his hair, much to his annoyance, but he doesn’t swat her hand away, just glares at her as he fixes the messy raven locks.  “I’m the exception to the rule of course.  I have no conditions when it comes to loving you two” 
“Corny,” He mutters with fake malice.  “But what about Gojo, then?”
With a raised brow, (y/n) looks down at the boy, waiting for him to complete the question.  Megumi just stared up at her expectantly, his head cocked towards one shoulder.
“What about Gojo?” She repeats with a tilted inflection, wondering what he was getting at.
Megumi huffs with more annoyance than she could’ve thought his little body was capable of holding.
“Well, don’t you love each other?” He asks, exasperated, like he’d been holding onto this fact for too long, like it was heavy, and he was tired of lugging it around.  “Isn’t that why he’s around all the time? Isn’t that why he never leaves anymore?” 
(y/n’s) lips part in surprise, ready to say something, anything to deflect, or excuse, but she can’t think of a decent enough argument, and she finds herself remaining in silence as they approach their building.
“He’s so obnoxious,” Megumi continues, and (y/n) watches him with a strange curiosity as he goes on to speak.  “He’s loud.  And annoying.  And too touchy,” 
She chuckles fondly to herself, as she couldn’t help but agree with all of Megumi’s grievances with the man.  Of course these were all traits she’d found some way to appreciate.  
He was loud, but he spoke up for others, and had he not done so on her behalf, she might not be here with Megumi now.  He was annoying, but he made it known that he enjoyed spending time around her, and he’d remember all of the things she said she liked or disliked.  He was touchy, but it was just the way he showed affection, every touch, whether it be to hug her goodbye, to pull her to sit closer to him, to comb her hair with his fingers so she could fall asleep peacefully, it all just meant that he cared.
Thinking about it now, her face began to heat up, and her heart began to beat erratically in her chest.  Had Megumi figured it out for her? Had she really grown to love all of those things?
“He doesn’t ever stop talking about you,” Megumi goes on, drawing her out of her thoughts and back to his rant.  “Especially when you’re not around.  He just goes on and on.  About high school, about how cool you are, how pretty you are, how strong you are,” 
Despite his irritation, Megumi’s cheeks begin to burn too, a little embarrassed to be passing this information on.
“And when he makes my lunches, even his notes are about you.  And they’re stupid.  But he’s stupid,” He rolls his eyes between complaints.
(y/n) thinks back to the little post-it she’d snagged from his lunch box a few months ago.  There had been others? She was curious now about what they said.  Did he do it every time he made their lunch?
“And Shoko said you were in love once,” 
Her attention returns to the boy again, eyes round and lips still parted, still waiting to say something that wasn’t coming to mind.  Shoko said that? 
“Are you not anymore?” 
He looks up at her just as they approach the front doors to their building.  (y/n) swallows the lump in her throat as she pushes it open, letting him inside first.  The warm air in the lobby is welcoming, and she pops open the buttons to the light jacket she’d worn to help keep warm during the chilly fall night.
Megumi was still staring at her as they made their way through the lobby to wait for the elevator.  She knows he was expecting an answer, a real one, but truth be told, (y/n) wasn’t sure what the answer even was.
“We were young,” She sighs out eventually, shaking her head as she struggles to come up with the rest.  “Did we have feelings for each other? Maybe, but I don’t know about love.  We were close friends.  Still are” 
She thinks this is a good answer.  It’s the truth, and it’s enough of an explanation to quell Megumi’s curiosities.  She thought wrong.
“Well, what about now?” He asks, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets.
“You’re nosey tonight,” (y/n) chuckles, trying to nonchalantly brush him off and leave their conversation at that.  But Megumi continues to stare at her with furrowed brows.  “What?” She laughs nervously at him, raising her hands in mock defense.  “What more is there to say?”
“Shoko said you were in love,” He deadpans, and (y/n) makes a mental note to cuss out her friend for gossiping with literal children about her love life- or more accurately, lack thereof.  “So what was the condition that you don’t anymore?” 
“I never said I didn’t-” 
“So you do?”
They stare at each other in silence.
There’s a ding! And the elevator doors before them slide open.
(y/n) ushers Megumi in without a word, and he excitedly pushes the button for their floor.  (y/n) crosses her arms as the doors close again.  Her foot taps anxiously on the floor.
“Is this why you’ve been upset lately?” She finally speaks as the elevator begins to move.  Megumi looks up at her, but her eyes remain focused on the changing numbers on the panel as they pass each floor.  “Satoru’s been around more and you don’t like him?” 
“I didn’t say I didn’t like him,” Megumi mutters, annoyed at having to admit such a thing.  (y/n) lets out a small chuckle.  “He’s just annoying.  I don’t know why you do,” He explains.  “You’re cooler than him” He adds in a smaller, more bashful voice.
“Can’t argue there,” (y/n) hums in amusement, smiling down at him fondly.  “But you don’t have anything to worry about, ‘gumi,” She says, and seeing as he’s trapped in the small space, when she reaches down and snatches him up with the excitement of finding a stray toad on her path- he can’t do anything but squeal and thrash his arms in protest.  “You’re the only one for me, Fushiguro Megumi!” She cheers in a loud, lovesick manner.
The elevator doors open, allowing anyone on their floor to hear the boy’s screams of torture and giggles of delight when (y/n) tosses him over her shoulder to tickle him relentlessly.
“(y/n)!” He screams her name in choked up pleas of mercy.  “Stoooop!” 
His hollers fell on deaf ears as (y/n) cackled the whole way to the door.  She didn’t let up until she had to fish for the keys in her pocket.  Megumi huffed, hanging limply over her back, panting as he caught his breath, his laughter finally dying down.
“You’re a jerk” He muttered in defeat.
(y/n) cackled as she got the door open, and Megumi’s body was practically swinging behind her back as she hauled him inside.
Much to the delight of Satoru and Tsumiki, who had been sitting at the kitchen table, having a little spa day.
So while they were laughing at Megumi’s distress, (y/n) was laughing at the sight of Satoru with a big fluffy pink headband, the one Tsumiki used for the couple of times that (y/n) would let her do face masks with her.
His hair stuck out in every direction under the big bow on top, and there was a green substance smeared all over his face that (y/n) could only hope was from the rejuvenating face mask tube that she kept with her things in the bathroom.  And better than that- Tsumiki was halfway through painting his names.  He had one hand flat on the table, the polish still drying, while the ten year old held his other hand to carefully apply the color.
“Oh my god,” (y/n) couldn’t help the string of giggles that escaped her, and she finally set Megumi back on the ground so that he could also appreaciate the entertainment.  “You girls have a nice day to yourselves?” 
“Yeah!” Tsumiki cheered.  “We watched a romance anime and Gojo’s letting me paint his nails and we were talking about boys and we’re doing face masks!” 
(y/n’s) still laughing as she kicks off her shoes, before neatly setting them on the small rack by the door with the other smaller pairs of shoes.  She shrugs off her coat and drapes it over the couch before making her way further into the room so she could see what color Tsumiki had chosen for Satoru’s manicure.
“She said we were doing facemasks,” Satoru deadpans as (y/n) peers over the girl’s shoulder.  “But she chickened out” 
“Did not!” Tsumiki argued.  “I just only have one headband.  I didn’t want to get any in my hair” 
(y/n) continues to giggle when she finally gets a look at Satoru’s hands.  Tsumiki had all of her polishes on the table, so each finger was a different color.  Mostly variations of pink and purple, but there was one green and one blue in there too.  When she meets his gaze, he’s silently pleading with her, but her mouth twists into a grin that tells him she was not here to bring him to a merciful end.
“Very good job you’ve done here, Tsumiki,” She praises the girl instead.  “Satoru has never looked prettier!” 
He should’ve rolled his eyes and quipped back some sarcastic remark, but Tsumiki was finally painting his last fingernail and it would all be over soon.  So instead he grins from ear to ear, taking her half-insult as a compliment.
“Why thank you, (y/n/n).  Finally, I’m appreciated for my beauty” 
(y/n’s) the one who rolls her eyes.
Once Tsumiki applies the last stroke of glittery pink polish on Satoru’s pinky nail, (y/n) tasks her with cleaning up the mess on the table.  It appears she’d been ready to give the man a full makeover, looking at all the makeup, nail polish, and hair supplies littered over the surface.
“Come on pretty girl, I’ll get the mask cleaned off your face,” (y/n) beckons for Satoru to follow her towards the bathroom.  “We can’t have you ruining your pretty manicure” She snickers as the pair disappear down the hall.
Megumi helped his sister gather her things back into the boxes she kept them neatly organized in.
“How did it go with your dogs?” She asked curiously.
“Good,” He answers.  “(y/n) is in love with Gojo” 
His sister stares back at him with wide eyes, and a slow grin creeping over her face.
Meanwhile, (y/n) is sitting Satoru down on the lid of the toilet while the sink water runs until it’s warm enough that it won’t be a shock to his skin.  Once it’s ready, she wets a corner of a washcloth and carefully begins to wipe off the creamy face mask.
“I can’t believe you let her do this” She murmurs, bringing the rag back under the running water to rinse away the excess paste.
“(y/n), as a dear friend, I need you to be honest with me,” He says, and her eyes lock on his, her hand stalling in it’s ministrations, holding the rag to his brow as she gives him her undivided attention.  His expression looks grave.  “Is this going to absolutely fuck up my pores?” 
His eyes are wide like he’s never been more afraid of anything in his life, and (y/n) can’t help but burst into laughter as she goes back to cleaning away the cream on his forehead.
“Well, it shouldn’t,” She says, and Satoru visibly relaxes.  “But I don’t know what she was thinking putting so much on your face” 
“Maybe she just wanted to be close because I’m so devilishly handsome” He smirks up at her, and she lets out another laugh, turning back to the sink again to rinse the rag.
“I think she just wanted to play dress up with you” (y/n) mused.
“I think she just wanted to have girl talk,” Satoru replied.  “Which apparently I’m quite good at.  If you’re ever interested” 
Another giggle escapes her as she gets to work cleaning away the cream on his cheek, being careful as she drags the rag slowly under his eye.  She’s focused on her work, but Satoru can’t draw his attention away from her.  He couldn’t remember the last time she stood so close to him, and right now her face hovered just a few inches away from his.
It was hard to keep his hands firmly planted on his knees, and not hold her by the waist and draw her into the space between them.  But then he’d ruin his manicure.
“I didn’t realize she was getting so interested in boys,” She hums thoughtfully.  “Any juicy details?” 
“Not really,” Satoru shrugs.  “I told her to start playing hard to get if she really wants to get someone’s attention.  She said she didn’t want their attention.  She just likes making friends with the cute boys in her class” 
(y/n) laughs softly and shakes her head, but she can’t help but smile proudly to herself.
“That’s my girl,” She praises, even though Tsumiki wasn’t present.  “She doesn’t need boys right now.  She’s doing great in her classes” 
Satoru shrugs a shoulder.
“You enjoy girl talk, hm?” She asks.
Admittedly, she could have cleaned his face of all this face mask cream by now, but she couldn’t help her slow movements.  The longer she dragged this on, the longer she could stand right in front of him and stare at his pretty features.  Her conversation with Megumi was still on the front of her mind, and while she’d brushed off the boy’s questions about her feelings minutes ago, standing before Satoru now, she wasn’t so sure she could deny them.
She’d known for a long time that she harbored strong feelings for him.  While at first she’d squashed them down because she refused to admit she’d fallen for an arrogant fool like him, over time, she’d come to understand him better, and soon he’d become one of the greatest people she’s ever known, and she wasn’t so sure she’d ever meet anyone like him again.
But things got messy. She got involved with the Fushiguro’s, [redacted] defected, and now that they’ve graduated and are trying to lead their own lives, it just got too complicated.
It didn’t help that when he’d tried to take things to a more than platonic level, she’d shot it down as soon as things got tricky.  As soon as he got called into an assignment the night they were going to go out, she’d closed herself back up, rebuilt the wall around her, and told him it was never going to work, so they may as well never try.
She’d done the right thing, right? 
Trying not to stare too long at him now, she wasn’t so sure.
“Oh, I quite love girl talk,” Satoru grinned.  “No wonder you and Shoko always snuck off.  Hey, you ever talk about me?” His grin turns into a smirk as his bright eyes try to catch hers.  She pretends to be too focused on clearing the green goop off his nose.
“Only when I needed to complain,” She muses affectionately.  “I’m sorry to say most of our gossip involved Ijichi” 
“That kid that’s a manager?” He asked with a furrowed brow.  “That’s your type?” 
He sounded annoyed, and confused.  (y/n) chuckled, turning back towards the sink for another rinse.
“No,” She shakes her head, and Satoru readjusts his posture, sitting up a little straighter with his confidence returned.  “But he was always smitten with Shoko.  I think eventually he was so into her she couldn’t help but take an interest in him, too,” 
Satoru nods, pursing his lips as he thinks back on it.  There were a few times that she’d blown off plans to twirl her hair at the younger boy.  He’d always thought she was just messing with him, now he wonders if anything ever came of it.
“I think they hooked up a couple times,” (y/n) indulged in a quieter voice, her eyes meeting his with a curious excitement he hadn’t seen in a while.  “She never admitted it.  But I’ve seen the hickeys.  That’s all I’m saying” 
Satoru laughed with delight.  He really did enjoy girl talk.  He also enjoyed seeing (y/n) this happy.
“Well geez.  I guess I’ll have to hit her up on that.  What’s she got on you, huh?” 
Her brows pinched together as a scoff of a laugh escapes her, her lips stretching into an awkward smile.  Her eyes meet his and they’re prodding, eager to hear more of this juicy content.
(y/n) shakes her head as more nervous laughter bubbles up.
“Afraid you’ll be rather bored, ‘toru” She hummed, going back to scrubbing the cream off of his other cheek.
“What, no time for boys?” He leans forward, making her stall in her movements, and bringing her gaze back to his.  Her eyes flicker between his for a moment, trying to figure out why he was asking this of her now.  He knows the answer to this question.  Why was he even asking it?  
Her head tilts at him in a small movement as she thinks through her answer, her eyes never leaving his.
“That’s private” She murmurs, just to gauge his reaction.
It was a pleasant one indeed.  Only because she got an up close look was she able to see the twitch in his brow, the slow locking of his jaw before quickly relaxing it.  So the notion that she did have something to tell bothered him.  Interesting.
“So you have a little time for boys, then?” He asks, and the grin that stretches on his lips is anything but eager.  It’s counterfeit.  And almost poisonous.
“Why the sudden interest?” She hums, straightening her posture and going back to cleaning his face.
“Why the sudden need for privacy?” He asks, leaning forward again, seeing as she’d tried to put a few inches of distance between them.  Her eyes briefly catch his, but she’s quick to return her focus.  “I thought we said no more secrets” 
A humorless laugh escapes her throat as she shakes her head at him.
“Satoru, how many times are you going to assume I’m hooking up with someone when I’m not?” She asks, only half-teasing.
“Hey, that’s not all on me, you were the one sneaking around in the middle of the night! A bootycall was the only logical answer” 
“Except it wasn’t, and it isn’t” (y/n) reminds him.
“I’m still not totally convinced” He grumbles, rolling his eyes away from hers as he mulled over the scraps of evidence in his head.
“I can’t tell if you’re being nosey or completely jealous” She muses.
“Can’t a guy be more than one thing?” His eyes are on hers again in an instant as he grins up at her, this time with his usual charm that he tried to pull.
“Sure you can,” She grins back at him.  “And you’re predictable” 
His grin falls, but not completely.  His lips are still curled into a soft smile as he stares up at her.  It’s quiet for a moment, and there’s still some green mask left on his chin, but it’s momentarily forgotten as she gets lost in his stare.
She supposes she’d get jealous, too, if he started talking about seeing someone else.  Someone else, she thinks to herself, a small crease forming between her brows.  And that wasn’t fair of her to think, was it? He wasn’t hers, she’d made sure of that herself.  But fuck, if the idea didn’t make something nasty twist in her gut.
“I’m not seeing anyone,” She blurts out, as if it wasn’t already clear to him that this was the case.  “If that’s what you’re getting at.  I don’t know why, you know I-” 
She stops herself before something she doesn’t want to say out loud.  He tilts his chin at her, curious to hear the rest of what she was going to say, but judging by the way she presses her lips together in a small smile, he gets the feeling that she’s swallowed her words.
Silently, she wipes the last patch of green cream off of his chin, and turns around to rinse the wash cloth thoroughly.  After working out all of the mask from the cloth, she rings it out and drapes it over one of the towel bars to properly dry.  When she turns back to Satoru, he’s raising his hands to pull the headband off.
“Wait,” Her voice is soft but it still stops him as she reaches out towards him.  “I’ll get it,” She tells him as she loops her fingers through the fluffy band.  “I was serious about not messing up your nails” 
A small giggle escapes her as she slides the headband off, letting his hair fall around his ears and over his forehead.
“I appreciate that you care about my manicure” He half-teases.
Absent-mindedly, she brings her fingers bag to his hair, sweeping a few loose strands away from his eyes.  She doesn’t even realize what she’s done until her eyes meet his, and suddenly she’s retracting her hand and staring back at him with wide eyes.
“I- sorry-” 
“Don’t be,” Satoru smiles at her as he stands from the seat, stretching his tired limbs after sitting there for the last fifteen or so minutes.  “You want help making dinner tonight?” 
Just like that he’s strolling out of the bathroom with her in tow, telling her all of the ideas of things he wants to learn to cook.  A lot of his list is baked sweets, but she listens to him ramble on anyways.  It’s a good distraction for her to calm her racing heart. _
It’s a horrendously chilly day in december when paths cross that (y/n) would have never expected.
She, Satoru, Shoko, and the Fushiguro kids had been out for the day.  It had started with a breakfast that they’d tried to make happen weekly, but had quickly turned into strolling around the shops in Tokyo so the kids could make their christmas wish lists.  This of course was more or less a grocery list of things that Satoru was bound to buy as soon as he received this list, but it was fun for everyone nonetheless.
They’d just walked out of a pet shop, despite (y/n) making it clear that there would be no pets for christmas, claiming Megumi’s dogs were enough.  She was reminding Tsumiki- and Satoru- of that fact as they walked out.
“What do you need a hamster for? Isn’t Megumi feisty enough?” She’d laughed as she’d pulled her hat over her head to keep her ears safe from the nippy cold breeze.  Megumi gives his sister a wide grin, maybe out of pride, even.
“Because they’re so small and cute and fluffy-” 
“Not helping, Satoru,” She swatted at his arm to stop him from getting Tsumiki’s hopes up, before turning her attention to the girl.  “We’re not getting a hamster” 
Just as Tsumiki’s pouty face was almost starting to work, (y/n) catches sight of an old familiar face, and her attention is quickly ripped away from the present as a beam stretches over her mouth.
“Nanami!” 
He’s across the street, so she has to jog to get to him and catch his attention, leaving everyone else without much more of an explanation.
“Been awhile since I’ve seen Nanamin,” Shoko’s the first to speak, as the rest of them are staring at (y/n) as she catches up with the blonde man.  Megumi and Tsumiki watch on with surprise, and a little confusion.  While Satoru’s eyes narrow into a glare behind his shades.  “He looks… good” 
This turned his glare towards the woman, who pursed her lips and shrugged a shoulder.  “What?” She asked innocently.  “The haircut suits him” 
When Nanami Kento finally hears his name and sees (y/n) making her way to him, he lights up.  Recognition turns to delight as she approaches him, and when her arms open wide, he steps closer so that she can throw them around his neck and hug him like he was an old friend, and not just a past acquaintance that had shared trauma.
“Don’t remember them being so close” Satoru huffs, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his coat so that no one could see the way they ball into tight fists.
Hearing the odd seriousness in the usually overly-cheery man’s tone had Megumi looking up at Satoru out of curiosity.  He wore a grimace, even with the shades covering his face, it was perfectly clear.  When the boy glanced back towards where (y/n) was animatedly talking with the man he sort of recognized, an idea brewed in his head.
Tugging on the puffy sleeve of Tsumiki’s coat, Megumi gave her a look, making her follow his line of sight from Satoru’s evil eye, to where (y/n) and her supposed friend from high school were reconnecting.  Tsumiki looked back and forth a few more times, noting how Gojo’s brow furrowed particularly harder as (y/n) grabbed the man’s arm and began to lead him back towards them.
As Nanami and (y/n) grow nearer, Satoru does his best to relax his features, but with the way she’s talking to him so enthusiastically, smiling and gesturing with her hands, he can’t help but have some intrigue.
Questions like when the hell did they get so buddy-buddy? And since when did Nanamin know how to smile? Flooded his mind.  He was dying to know what it was that you were talking about that had you both looking so… engaged.
“Your jealousy’s showing,” Shoko snickered, knocking her elbow into Satoru’s.  He sent her a half-playful scowl, which only made her grin in amusement.  “And here I thought you grew out of that?” She teased.
Meanwhile, and as oblivious as ever, (y/n) had been filling Nanami in on all of the excitement she’d endured since graduating.  He congratulated her, and asked all of the appropriate questions about the kids and the beginning of her career as a jujutsu sorcerer.
“You have to come properly meet the kids,” She’d told him, gesturing back to where the oddball looking group stood outside of the pet shop.  
Nanami glanced over, briefly catching Gojo’s nasty gaze before he smoothed it out into something more friendly.  It didn’t look remotely authentic, but it didn’t help that Shoko was cackling and knocking her arm against his, as though calling him out for his behavior.  He supposed some things would never change.
(y/n) was linking her arm through his and walking with him back towards everyone before Nanami could find a way to politely decline the offer.  It was nothing against the Fushiguro kids, (y/n) made them out to be pleasant little angels, but he had a feeling that Gojo wouldn’t be too keen on her inviting him over.  Especially not arm in arm.
“So you and Six Eyes finally made it work, huh?” The blonde asked, semi bitterly, semi curiously.
(y/n) ducked her head to hide the blush dusting over her cheeks.  Although she supposed it was cold enough outside she could play it off as a chill, she had a feeling Nanami would see through the lie.
“Uh, not exactly.  I mean- not like you mean, anyways.  He helps with the kids a lot” She stammers over her explanation, not knowing the proper way to define their relationship.  Friend seemed too informal and broad to describe what they shared.  Partner was… well, there was a certain connotation there, wasn’t there? Rather than try to find a label for it, she decides instead to shut her mouth.  
Nanami chuckled.
Some things really would never change.
“Still got him to settle down though, hm?” Nanami hums, watching as Gojo ruffles up the hair of the little boy, who then proceeds to turn around and growl at him, smacking at his hand.
This was (y/n’s) little angel? Nanami wondered as the two began to bicker like they were both children.  He couldn’t hear what they were arguing about, but from what he could see, he had a feeling the boy was in the right.
“So he’s… good with the kids?” Nanami asks, and the pair watch as Satoru’s solution to end the bickering was to lift up the kid by his ankle, dangling him in the air.
(y/n’s) eyes momentarily widen, and she jolts as if she’s going to run at the two- probably to scold Satoru and cradle Megumi in her arms like he was younger than he was- but she just as quickly relaxes as Satoru plops the boy on his shoulders.  Megumi is still scowling, but appears to relax and let's Satoru hold him by the ankles while he sits.  (y/n) makes a mental note to take a picture of them later when they’re not paying attention.
“Sometimes,” She finally answers Nanami’s question.  “Tsumiki loves him.  Megumi won’t admit it… but I know he likes him more than he lets on” 
“So you’ll raise kids together, but you won’t put a label on things?” Nanami chuckles.
She looks over at him with a half smile and a raised brow.
“You sure care a lot about my love life, Nanamin~” She points out.  “So what is it? You got a special someone that’s got love on your mind?” 
He laughs again, not because she’s right, but because it was so like her to deflect like her life depended on it.  She had gotten better at it since the last time he’d seen her, too.
When they do approach the rest of her group, Satoru’s line of sight is firmly set on the place where (y/n’s) elbow is hooked around Nanami’s, and it stays there while she introduces the kids to him.  He doesn’t look up, or even force a polite smile, until Shoko is stepping forward and making them split up as she hugs Nanami.
Then, and only once (y/n) stepped closer to Satoru, putting some distance between her and the ex-sorcerer, does he relax.  Megumi groans and kicks his feet out of Satoru’s hold, annoyed by the way he’d gripped his legs.  During the pleasant small talk (y/n) and Shoko makes with the man, Satoru remains silent.  Behind his shades his eyes are piercing and although Nanami can’t quite see it, he certainly feels it.  It’s a bit unsettling, but just like in high school, it was more irritating than anything else.  
Despite barely speaking to him, before the blonde man goes to part ways, Satoru scribbles something down on a receipt he’d found in his pocket, and passes it off to him.  Nanami’s surprised to see it’s a phone number.
“For if you ever want to get back out there,” Satoru said with a nod.  Nanami blinks as he stares at the Six Eyes user, and then back at the receipt.  “I’d get ya back on the field in a jiffy, no questions asked” He continued with a grin, before making a point to sling an arm over (y/n’s) shoulders.  She stumbles as he pulls her against his side, caught off guard by the sudden affection, but she relaxes just as quickly, and doesn’t appear upset by the action at all.
“Thanks” Nanami settles with a small nod of his head.  He doesn’t think he’d ever go back into the world of jujutsu sorcery, but the proposal was still a thoughtful one.  Especially so when he thought he’d been on the man’s shit list for merely talking to (y/n).
They say their goodbyes and part ways with a weak promise of brunch sometime.
Shoko is dragging Tsumiki into the next boutique, saying something about hair accessories that should be on her wish list.  Leaving (y/n) and Satoru to follow behind, with Megumi still perched on Satoru’s shoulders.
(y/n) tucks her hands into the pockets of her coat, stepping out from under his arm, but still walking closely by his side.
“You really think he’ll come back?” She asks after a beat passes, too curious about his thoughts to wait until another time to bring it up.
“I don’t know,” He answers honestly, shrugging his shoulders, although the movement is stiff and awkward with Megumi resting on them.  He giggles a bit at the movement.  “But he looked… bored, didn’t he?” 
When he looks down at her to gauge her reaction, she gives him a small nod.
“Figured a change of pace would be good for him” Satoru finished.
“Maybe you can train him again (y/n),” Megumi pipes up.  He leans over Satoru’s head, resting his arms across the white locks before setting his chin against the puffy sleeves of his coat to rest.  “Like me” 
She smiles up at him sweetly, and nods her head again.  Truthfully, Nanami’s abilities nearly surpassed hers back in the day, but she had no problem with letting Megumi believe she was stronger than she was.
“Maybe then I’ll get good at teaching,” She said, eyes flickering down to Satoru, who beamed at the idea.  “Jujutsu Tech always needs more teachers” She shrugs a shoulder at the thought.
But for now, she tables the idea, putting her focus back into entertaining the kids for the day.  As long as they had a good holiday season, full of the spoiling and love they so deserved, she’d be content.
___
On the third day of February, Gojo Satoru shows up at the (y/l/n)-Fushiguro apartment like a madman that evening.  He appears out of thin air in the living room, and his worried state only escalates when he finds the room empty.  It’s late enough that without the lights, the room is dark, but early enough in the evening that there should have been some form of life in the apartment.
He’s quick to scour through the hallways.  He finds Tsumiki asleep in her bed, and carefully closes the door behind him.  When he turns to Megumi’s room, the boy is still awake, happily reading with the clip-on light on the cover of his book- a gift he’d gotten from (y/n) this past holiday.  When the man practically barges into the room, he’s not as alarmed as he should be.  Satoru appearing out of nowhere had become such a regular occurrence that it would be silly if he still flinched at his sudden presence.
“Sorry, kid, shoulda knocked,” Satoru apologizes sheepishly.  “(y/n/n) here? She didn’t go on a mission, did she?” 
It wouldn’t be like her to take on an assignment and leave the kids alone at the apartment.  Then again, it wasn’t like her to ignore his texts and calls all day.  Eight texts, three phone calls, to be exact.
She’d ignored Shoko’s, too.  Hence is panic and instantaneous arrival at her residence.
Megumi shakes his head, tucking his bookmark into the page he’d been on before setting it down.  He climbs out of bed wordlessly, and walks out of the room, leaving Satoru to follow after him.
He’s a little embarrassed when Megumi takes him towards (y/n’s) room, where her door has been left ajar.  He points through the crack, before looking up at Satoru with a small frown.
“She’s been out there all night,” He says softly.
Satoru furrows his brows, before pushing open the door a little more so he could see for himself what Megumi meant.  Sure enough, her bedroom was unlit, and the window on the furthest wall was slid open.  The curtains surrounding it blow gently with the breeze that creeps into the room.  He can just barely make out (y/n) sitting on the small patch of roof just outside of the window.
“Is she okay?” Megumi asks, his voice even smaller.
He’d never seen her the way she’d acted today.  There had been a ghostly pale look on her face this morning, and then again when she’d picked up him and his sister from school.  Most of the afternoon was spent focused on chores, and then preparing dinner.  Any attempts made by him or his sister to get her to open up, or even smile, had failed.  
And then, once dinner was finished and the dishes were done, she’d excused herself to her room.  After two hours, Megumi and Tsumiki had peeked in to see if she was alright, only to find her sitting on the roof outside her window, alone.
Satoru lets out a sigh, his heart sinking as it finally clicks for him why she’d been so dodgy.  He should’ve figured it out sooner, he realizes that now.
“She’ll be alright,” He answers Megumi, pulling the door shut to give her her privacy again, even though she didn’t seem to notice the onlooking presence behind her.  “Come on, you should get to bed” 
Megumi hesitates, wanting to know more, out of worry for his caretaker that worked so hard to make sure he was content and happy every day of his life.  Now she was struggling and he felt helpless.  But he was just a kid, what was he supposed to do?
“You’ll make sure?” He asks.  It was the closest to asking the man for help that he’d ever gotten, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
Satoru smiles, patting the kid on the head before pushing him gently back towards his room.
“Course I will,” He says, and it seems genuine, so Megumi complies and begins walking back to his door.  “Sweet dreams ‘gumi” 
“Goodnight” Megumi calls, rather than roll his eyes like he wants to.  Well, at least he waits until he’s in his closed room to do so.
Once he’s out of sight and presumably settling back into bed, Satoru opens the door he’s lingered by and slips into the room quickly.  Even as he climbs out of the window- which was a great struggle because it was a small opening and he was all limbs- (y/n’s) attention remains on the sky.
She has her knees pulled to her chest, and now he’s close enough that he can smell the cigarette held between her fingers.
“Thought you quit” He hums as she crawls awkwardly to where she’s sitting.
(y/n) doesn’t flinch at his presence.  He wonders how long she’d realized he was there.  She doesn’t look at him, either, much to his dismay.  She’s still focused on the stars, as though they’d been in the midst of an important conversation.
“Yeah, well,” Her voice is a murmur as she brings the cig to her lips, taking a short drag.  After filling her lungs she exhales, sighing for longer than she had smoke to disseminate.  “Guess I couldn’t help it today” 
Satoru nods in understanding, his attention catching on a small plate beside her.  The tiniest of smiles quirks on the corner of his lips as he sees a lone cupcake sitting on it.  It looks positively delicious, thick vanilla cake wrapped in a colorful paper, topped with a generous amount of frosting, curled over itself in a perfect mountain, and then covered in rainbow sprinkles.
If this was any other cupcake, on any other day, he’d be pushing her off this roof right now just to steal a bite of it.
But this cupcake wasn’t meant for him.
“I know you’re going to worry,” (y/n’s) speaking again, and his eyes drift away from the ominous treat and back to her, even though she’s still refusing to look at him.  “But you don’t need to.  You can go, if you want…” She trails off for a moment, taking in a shaky breath before finishing her thought.  “If you need to grieve… in your own way” 
Amidst the solemn memories that are flooding his mind of this day in past years, Satoru thinks it’s one of the kindest things she’s ever offered to him.  Pushing him away so that he can process this day however he needs, rather than sit here and comfort her while she processes her way.
And it’s not that it’s easy for him, because it isn’t.  He’d woken up today knowing exactly what day it was.  And not just Friday.  Today the weight of the world felt heavier on his shoulders than usual.  His coffee, pumped full of cream and sugar, tasted bitter.  The sun seemed to disappear behind a patch of clouds every time he stepped outside.  The day dragged and dragged, and given the fact that (y/n) had ghosted him for the day hadn’t helped.
But he couldn’t exactly blame her.  Because even he was a reminder to her.  A reminder that their group of three had once been four.  That when he’d met her all those years ago, he’d come as a matching set.  His heart sank for her, knowing there was nothing he could do to ease her mind of pleasant memories now covered in a haze of darkness.  
Guilt.  Regret.  Longing.  
“No, sweetheart,” He murmurs to her, sliding himself over the shingles to be closer to her.  Her hair is down, and it covers her side profile, so it’s still hard for him to see her, but for once he’s patient.  “No, ‘m not goin’ anywhere” 
It’s quiet for quite some time.  (y/n) continues puffing on the cigarette until the taste turns sour in her mouth, and then she’s stumping it out on the shingles, only half smoked.  Satoru hopes this means she really has quit the nasty habit, and tonight wasn’t a backslide on an old addiction, but instead a small escape towards nostalgia.  While she fiddles with the dead cig in her fingers, he notes it was the brand that Shoko always picked up.  The very brand that back in high school, she’d made smoke buddies out of (y/n), and Suguru too, smoking those exact cigarettes.
“D’you think he’s celebrating?” 
Her voice catches in her throat, but she swallows the lump as soon as she voices her question.
No, Satoru thinks.
“Maybe,” He hums in response.  “Probably not as hard as you did” He adds, trying to lighten the mood with the memory of her own twentieth birthday.  (y/n) lets out a small sound that was meant to be a hum, but it sounds choked, like someone has a hand around her throat, strangling her pipes until she had no more voice left.
She stares at the cigarette in her fingers, her eyes hard, desperate to stay dry, but this leaves them without emotion.
“I didn’t think today would be this hard,” She admits.  “I thought I…” 
Satoru watches her carefully, his eyes darting from her hidden face to the cigarette that was trembling in her delicate hold.  As if the day alone wasn’t hard enough, his heart breaks over her further.  Being the strongest didn’t mean shit at this moment.  There wasn’t a damn thing he could do to ease this pain for her, but fuck, if he could take it all away, and carry it for her himself, he would.  
“I thought I’d already cried as much as I could over him,” Her words wobble, thanks to her burning throat and quivering lips.  “But I… I just…” 
She shakes her head, a humorless laugh escaping her throat in one harsh sob.  It sounds exactly how she feels.  Angry, forlorn, exasperated.
“Satoru,” 
She turns to him, finally.  The stumpy little cigarette falls from her shaking hands as she moves quickly.  As if his heart wasn’t hurting enough, now he sees the tears streaming down her face.
How long had she been out here crying? He worries.  How long had she been carrying this alone?
Before she can continue he’s surging forward.  Both hands raising to her face in order to make quick work at drying her tears.  It’s no use, they won’t stop flooding and he knows it too, but still, he wipes them away with diligent, loving thumbs.
“I can’t bear this,” She mumbles, watery eyes flickering between his.  
It’s a damn vulnerable thing to admit, and maybe tomorrow she’ll regret this moment of fragile exposure, but right now all she feels is a weight on her chest, pressing harder and harder until it’s left a gaping wound, and she’s so desperate for relief from this pain that she brings her walls down.  Even if it means she takes them down completely.
“It hurts too much,” She continues in a strained whimper.  “I don’t want to miss him anymore, I don’t want to think about him anymore,” 
Satoru’s brows fall to furrow together as she makes her pained confession, and if it wasn’t for the way she spoke, he could see it on her.  In the way her body shook as she cried, her hurt seeped out of every orifice, until she was made nearly unrecognizable.
Since Geto Suguru’s defection, she’d done a bang up job keeping her feelings on the matter to herself.  Minus the day he left them, she’d barely even spoken a word about it, and in fact, she hadn’t talked about him at all.  Until this very moment.  It appeared that she’d kept it packed up so deep inside that today was the last straw, the final blow to her unprocessed grief.  Denial was a wonderful thing, but it could only do the trick for so long.
Satoru cradles her face with the gentleness of feathers on her skin.  He doesn’t say a word, there’s not enough words in the world to bring an ounce of comfort to her now.  Nothing could fix the situation, believe him, he’s tried to find the miracle cure.  But this disease that was their shared trauma, their haunted past, was terminal.
So instead he sits quietly with her.  He brushes away her tears with the pads of his thumbs, over and over again, and he’s bound to this very spot to continue to do so until it’s enough.  Until he’s enough to carry all of her sorrow, all of her strife, and anything else.
Satoru’s throat begins to burn the longer he watches her fall apart at the seams before him.  This wasn’t the first time he’s seen her at her lowest, he’d been there once or twice before to try to pick up her pieces, and hold her gently together until she feels whole again.  But it doesn’t matter if he’d done this a thousand times before, it always feels unfamiliar, and it always wounds him.
He tries his hardest to push down the feeling, to be present as the strength that she needs of him.  But tonight is different than the other times he’s calmed and comforted her.
A shaky exhale escapes him, and the movements of his thumbs on her cheeks grow rushed, and erratic.
“Oh sweetheart,” Satoru means to speak in a murmur, but his voice wavers as much as his breath.  It’s littered with an emotion that makes (y/n’s) stomach churn and knot.  “You know I hate seeing you cry” 
His eyes follow the constant flow of tears as he prods carefully to wipe them away.  His heart weighs heavy in his chest, sinking all the way to his stomach.
Slowly, (y/n) inches forward, her eyes flickering between his for a moment, before her hands rest on his shoulders and she leans in to embrace him.  It’s stiff at first, as if they were unfamiliar with hugging one another.  But she sinks into him after adjusting, and wraps her arms around his neck completely while holding on tight.
His own arms encircle her waist, before resting cheek atop her head.
“I wish I could just hate him,” She mumbles into his shoulder, the fabric of his tee shirt growing wet with her tears pooling into it.  “It would make it easier” 
Satoru nods.  One of his hands pressed flat against her back as he started to move it in soothing circles.
They sit quietly for a few minutes, until her crying has calmed enough that she’s not shaking anymore, and his eyes have fallen shut with fatigue whilst he’s holding her close and rubbing her back.
“D’you want to go inside?” Satoru hums, tilting his head to press her lips into her hair.  “Get some rest?” 
She doesn’t answer him right away.  Not in words, at least.  Her arms tighten around him in the slightest, tensing up as she makes sure her hold on him is firm.
“No,” She whispers, followed by another squeeze, and this time he feels the pads of her fingertips pressing into the material of his shirt, against his skin.  “I want to stay here a little longer,” She admits while she pushes her face into the crook of his neck.  “If that’s okay?” She asks in a smaller voice.
“Of course that’s okay,” Satoru agrees, his free hand reaching up to cup the back of her head.  He gently pets her hair as she settles back into him again.  Best case scenario, she’ll fall asleep, and he can tuck her into bed and hope that the rest brings her more comfort than he’s capable of.  “Whatever you want, sweetheart,” His lips graze over her head as he murmurs, “Just let me know.  I’ll do whatever you need.  I’ll get you whatever you need.  Just tell me” 
Again, her hold stiffens on him, and she’s got him so snug in her arms now that breaking away would prove to be difficult.  Strongest be damned.  No hold on Gojo Satoru has ever been more binding.
And then she’s pulling away.  Her arms loosen and slide away, only for her hands to find purchase at his forearms, tethering herself to him with a gentle grip.  Even still, this has him locked to her, chained, bound.  
He lifts his head to look at her properly, meeting her wide, panicked eyes.  There’s a few tears left, clinging where they could.  They hide in plain sight at the corners of her eyes and on her cheeks.  Satoru has the thought to clear them away, but her hands begin to shake as she clings to his arms, and he doesn’t have the heart to pull himself from her grip.
No hold on Gojo Satoru has ever been more binding.
“Then I need you to promise me something,” She speaks with urgency, although he could already see the fright in her eyes.  He doesn’t get a chance to nod in agreement before she’s speaking again.  “You can’t ever go” 
Satoru blinks, taken aback by the request.  He’s quick to reassure her with a small chuckle, not out of humor, but from the irony that she feels the need to ask such a thing.
“Of course I won’t-” 
“I’m serious,” She speaks over him, eyes unblinking as she moves her hands to clutch onto his shoulders.  Her hold is softer now, but it carries the same weight.  “Please, promise me,” She whispers.  “Promise you won’t go anywhere,” 
She sucks in a breath as she fights more tears from pooling in her eyes.
“Promise me I won’t ever lose you, too,” 
Satoru’s brows pinch together as he nods back at her in a small motion.  With his arms free, he cups her face in his hands again, tilting her head forward so he could seal his promise with his lips pressed against the crown of her head.
He lingers there for a second, before kissing her in the middle of her forehead once more and leaning away so he could look at her.
“I just can’t-” She tries to speak but her tears are choking her up again.  “I can’t lose you, okay?”
He’s nodding at her, his expression gravely serious as he agrees to her terms.
“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart,” Satoru tucks a loose strand of hair carefully behind her ear before continuing.  “You’ll never lose me,” He gives her a sweet, comforting smile before he’s cupping her face again, fingers splayed across her cheeks, catching the last of her tears and drying them off.  “I need ya too much, yaknow?” 
A faint smile quirks at the corners of her lips, her eyes filling with relief, and something bashful.  He can feel it in the warmth of her face.
Softly, she murmurs, “I need you, too,” 
It’s a difficult thing to say out loud, there’s more weight to those words than she thought there would be, but it’s the truth, and she needs him to know it.  She needs him to know that while there’s still things she can’t bring herself to admit, at the end of the day he had her complete trust.  And right now, that seems more important.
“I…” Her voice gets caught in her throat, but this time it’s not because of the burn of tears.  She swallows hard anyways, and musters up the courage to continue.  “I don’t know what I’d do without you, ‘toru” 
His smile grows warm and syrupy.  It might not have been the confession he was holding out for, but it still made something fluttery and ticklish dance around his inside.  His heart swells.  His eyelashes grow heavy.
“Miss me, hopefully” He murmurs, gently pinching her cheek between his thumb and index finger, then smoothing over the skin with the pad of his thumb.
Her mood is significantly lifted by his familiar and affectionate teasing.  Her pain still lurks around the corner, but right now her back is turned, and all she can see are his bright eyes and tender smile.  All she knows is that his hands are warm against her face, and it turns her to putty having him this close.
Her head tilts to the side, cheek pressing further into the comforting warmth of his hand.  He regards her with a fondness so intense it almost makes her nervous.  Sometimes she had to re-learn how to get used to this look.
“Then…” Her voice is merely a breath.  “Stay” 
He’s smiling again, even though he knows she’s not asking him to spend the night in the spare room- which he’d already done five days out of this week without being invited, he didn’t need an invitation to crash there, he just did- but asking him to stay here, with her.  He shouldn’t be smiling, he shouldn’t feel that skip in his heart beat as he preens with pride and adoration.  Because the last time he’d stayed with her, it had been too hard.
It was too domestic.  Too intimate.  And all too difficult to pretend that it was normal, or casual.  The feelings that she plants in him blossom like uncontrollable wildflowers, and Satoru had realized he was far too weak to ever put himself through it again.  He cared about her too deeply to jeopardize it all over a shared bed.  Maybe it was childish of him, but he’d sworn he wouldn’t do it again.  When she’d made it so clear where they stood with one another, it wasn’t fair to her to gaze at her long after she'd fallen asleep in his arms and ache for more.
But Satoru is a fool.
He’s carefully helping her back through the window while she holds the cupcake in one hand and his in the other.  Before he heads to the spare room- where he has left quite a few drawers worth of extra clothes- he gives her hand a squeeze.  A silent promise that he’ll be quick.  She leaves the cupcake on her bedside table while she sits at the edge of her mattress and waits.  He is very quick, back in her room after barely two minutes have gone by.  When he closes the door, he does so as silently as possible.  When he sits beside her, his movements are slow, almost calculated with how carefully he moves.
“We should eat this cupcake,” She tells him, her eyes focused on the treat with an unreadable emotion behind them.  “It would be a shame… if it went to waste” 
He lets out a chuckle, which has her attention shifting to him.
“I couldn’t agree more” He says with a wide grin.
Her brow furrows.
“Were you just waiting for me to-” 
“Yes, yeah I was, hand it over”
He’s already reaching across her to snatch the plate off of the table.  There’s a plastic knife residing beside the cupcake, and after carefully peeling off the paper wrapper, Satoru cuts the cake down the middle as evenly as he could.  (y/n) almost laughs at his eagerness to eat the treat.  She supposes she could have let him have the whole thing if he was so eager for it, but he’s already handing her a half, and it does look delicious.
When she’d wandered into the bakery earlier that afternoon, before the Fushiguro kids were out of school, she hadn’t really planned on picking out a dessert to celebrate the birthday of someone she was trying to forget.  She wasn’t really sure what had wound her up in there, she hadn’t held a particular craving for any of the sugary sweets on display.  Then she’d seen that cupcake in the glass case, and as soon as her eyes had landed on it, she found herself getting in line to order it.  All the while telling herself this was silly, that he didn’t even have a sweet tooth, and this wasn’t at all what she would have gotten to celebrate his day had he been here.
But he wasn’t here.  And (y/n) was taking the small box home to sit on her counter where it could taunt her for the rest of the day, until she;d given in and plated the damn thing.
Now she stares at her half of it, held carefully in her fingertips.  The frosting felt heavy atop the small piece of cake, and she’s reminded that she actually doesn’t really care for cupcakes.  They were awkward, especially ones like these, where it was impossible to take a bite without getting cream smeared on your face.
She really shouldn’t have bought this.
“Well, that was the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten” 
Satoru snaps her out of her thoughts, her head snapping towards him in a jerky movement, as if she’d forgotten he was sitting beside her.  He’s got the pad of his middle finger between pursed lips, happily sucking off the last of the sugary sweetness.  He grins at her surprise.  (y/n) looks back at her own piece, and finally, carefully takes a bite.
It’s all vanilla and sugar.  From the cake to the frosting and sprinkles, the tiny dessert is packed with sweetness.  Even after one bite she’s certain that half of the cupcake was plenty, and she never would have eaten the whole thing on her own.  Although she’s sure Satoru would have finished the whole thing without a complaint.
Just as she’d thought, when she finishes her piece, she can feel the remnants of frosting clinging to her lip.  With a crinkled nose she wipes at it with her thumb, before turning to Satoru.
“Did I get it all?” She asks.  He chuckles as he shakes his head, amused by the smear of white over her cupid’s bow.  However before she can blindly rub it away some more, he’s leaning forward.  His fingers hook under her chin while his thumb craftily swipes over her upper lip, making sure to get the last of the offending frosting.
It’s not much, and really had she rubbed her mouth again she would have easily cleared away the rest of it, but he couldn’t resist, and he was acting without thinking.
“There ya go” He hums, his voice quieter than he meant it to be, before he’s sticking his thumb in his mouth to enjoy the last of her vanilla frosting as well.
(y/n) blinks, her eyes wide but the rest of her expression blank.  She figures she should thank him, maybe even make a joke to play off the strangely intimate act that has her heart doing somersaults in her chest, but she can’t bring herself to say anything.
Without a word, she stands from the bed, placing the plate with the wrapper and plasticware back on her nightstand.  Satoru takes his time getting settled under her covers, against her pillows.  When she climbs in after him, she’s still quiet.  She tucks the blanket up close to her chin, and then glances up to him, finding his eyes already on her.
They’re not touching, but he’s close enough that she can feel his heat under the shared blankets.  He’s close enough that she’s glad it’s dark in the room, because her face feels warm with the familiar sensation of a blush.
Four years of knowing him, and his close proximity still garnered the same reaction out of her.  She wondered if he knew she was blushing anyways, if his Six Eyes were always able to see right through her.
“Can I ask you something?” She murmurs, although her eyes are feeling too heavy to start a conversation right now.
He gives her a small smirk and a raised brow, intrigued by the age old anxiety-inducing question.
“Shoot” He muses back.
“How do you do it?” (y/n’s) hand slides under her pillow, raising her head just enough to get a proper look at him.  He looks puzzled, like he doesn’t understand the question, so she clarifies.  “You know, have the answer for everything,” She says.  “I feel like I… I feel like I bombard you with problem after problem and you just…” 
She trails off, and if she was being honest it’s because she’s getting lost in his eyes and forgetting momentarily what she was even talking about.  There were times when she looked at him that while he looked back, she got the overwhelming sense of his complete attention.  And sometimes, it made her heart stutter.  Occasionally her voice would deceive her, too.  She wants to move in closer, until she’s so impossibly too close, but she snaps back to reality just as her mind had started to drift off.
“You just always know what to do.  Or say” She finishes her thought in a hushed whisper.  Maybe it was her train of thought turning hazy from the adoration seeping in, but she suddenly feels like it was a confidential thing to say, too full of emotion to put out in the open so brazenly.
Satoru chuckles, and it relieves some of the tension that’s curling up in her chest.
“It’s cute that you think that,” He replies.  “That’s just what we do, though, isn’t it?” 
Now it’s her turn to furrow her eyebrows, not understanding what he’s trying to say.
Satoru gives her a small shrug.
“We look out for each other,” He states.  “Right?” 
“I ‘spose” (y/n) mumbles back, feeling severely gutted by the realization that he looked out for her more than she did for him.  How do you have the back of someone who’s already the strongest in the world? How could she possibly be as good to him as he was to her? 
It dawns on her then that she can’t, that she could never be a semblance of a person he deserved to have in his life.  Not just due to his strength and status, but because of who Gojo Satoru was as a human.  He was far too good, too kind and caring and patient for the likes of her to be involved with him.  She was messy, at times reckless, and most of all she lived too much in her own head.  Overthinking every situation, and every word, most days it felt like it took her ages just to find the right way to respond, to find the right words, make the right face.
Like right now.
“You don’t think so?” Satoru asks, readjusting his pillow so he too could get a better look at her.  Her lips twitch into an awkward smile, nervous that he was able to read her so easily.  “What’re you thinkin’ about?”
But how was she supposed to tell him? While she lays here and feels regret and guilt flood through her bloodstream like poison, how does she explain to him that she finally understood why she’d pushed him away all those months ago when he’d tried to make something more of the two of them? Just the thought has her skin crawling with goosebumps, and her heart thumping hard in her chest with adrenaline.
“C’mon, tell me” He prods again, this time giving her a smile, too curious to know what was knotting up her pretty features with an upset expression.  Something clearly bothered her about his statement- or at least, it was clear to him.
Her mouth opens, but even still she struggles to find the right thing to say.  No set of words in her language seemed like a good enough explanation.  Or maybe she just didn’t want to admit what had been on her mind.  Because admitting it would prove to him that it had been on her mind.
“I…” Her throat feels dry.  The fingers under her pillow curl into the sheets tightly.  “I don’t think it’s fair of me to ask you to stay,” She confesses in a small voice.  Satoru’s face falls.  “I don’t think it’s fair of me to make you promise,” 
He lifts his head from the pillow, bracing himself up on his arm as he looks down at her with an expression that was somewhere between concern and peculiarity.
Holding onto her last scrap of courage, (y/n) continues.
“You’re destined for such magnificent things,” She murmurs, a ghost of a smile on her face.  “And you’re the strongest but- but it’s not just because of that.  You were always going to be destined for great things, because… because you’re you,” 
She pauses, taking in a small breath and fighting the urge to look away from him, to spare herself from the eyes that were piercing into hers with ardent focus.
“And I… I’m just…” Her lip gets dragged between her teeth as she shakes her head in a slow movement.  “You were born deserving so, so much more than…” In a lazy gesture, her free hand waves above her, fingers twitching in small motions.  She doesn’t say me, but he knows it’s what she’s trying to convey.
“Don’t say that” He mumbles, offended that she could even think such an untrue, vulgar thing about herself, about the person he cares so much more about than she gave him credit for.
“It’s true,” She says back.  “You could be doing so much more amazing things with your life, you could have anything in the world if you wanted it, but instead you’re- you’re here,” Her voice grows smaller as she speaks, the dread of what she needed to say next weighing heavy on her tongue.  “And I… I know I shouldn’t be making you promise to stay.  I should be making you go,” 
She swallows hard, trying to get the lump in her throat to smooth away, but it lingers there, and makes her breath hitch as she closes her eyes before continuing.
“But I just can’t bring myself to do it” 
She can’t see him, but Satoru’s shaking his head at her, refusing to accept any of the nonsense she’s telling him right now.
“Then don’t,” He says, his words rushed, desperate to make himself clear before actually thinking through what the right thing to say was.  “You don’t have to.  I don’t want you to,” 
She’s refusing to look at him, so with his free hand, he cups her face, and he waits until she does.  Her eyes are glossy, but she’s fighting the need to cry again.
“You understand me, sweetheart?” He murmurs, his voice softening as he gazes down at her.  The snow-white tips of his hair almost touch her forehead with how close he’s leaning.  “I don’t want to go anywhere, I don’t want to be anywhere else, with anyone else, even right now, okay?” 
She presses her lips together in an attempt to hide her wince.
“Tell me you understand,” He whispers, eyes flickering between hers.  “I need to know that you understand” 
A small sniffle, and then a nod.
“I understand,” Her voice cracks even in her whisper.  “I just-” 
“No more of that,” He murmurs, his gentle thumb tracing her cheekbone in slow, lazy movements.  “No more of that, I can’t stand it.  You can’t push me away.  Not again.  Not ever again” He’s shaking his head to punctuate every word.
A single tear drips from her eye as she blinks, and he’s quick to wipe it away, just as he had earlier, desperate to make all of her tears disappear in any way he can, anyway she needs.
This wasn’t the first time she’d done this, but it gutted him all the same, recalling the last time she’d tried to force him away.  She’d nearly gone and gotten herself killed by the hands of the Zen’in Clan.  And before that was their fight, in the halls of Jujutsu Tech, when she’d told him that she didn’t need him.  He nearly shudders at the memory.  Of course he knew now that she hadn’t meant it, that it was her desperate attempt to keep him from prying into her life where she’d thought he was going to wind up hurt.
Now it was different.  Now it was real.  It was raw ache and fear before him.
“I promised you I’m not going anywhere,” He tells her.  His eyes trailing down to her lips on their own accord.  “I need you to promise me the same,” 
There’s a pause as his words hang between them, and then she gives him a shaky nod.  Her wide eyes don’t leave his, they remain searching, needing to be sure that he means it.  There’s not a bone in her body that tells her otherwise, but she’s so terrified of the fear of losing him that she just needs to be absolutely sure.
“I’m the one being unfair,” Satoru murmurs, his eyes following the movement of his thumb over her cheek.  “I know that, I know that you don’t want more and I overstep anyways because… because I can’t help it” 
There’s a shift in the mood, she can feel it, how it lightens the pressure on her chest before slamming it right back down.
He leans closer, and her breath hitches in her throat at the prospect of him closing every last inch of distance between them.  She should stop him, she should put her hands on his shoulders and push him away until he’s at a safe distance from her again.  But she doesn’t.
She pulls her hand out from under her pillow, and it blindly slides over the sheets until it finds his.  Her movements are slow, almost frightfully so as her fingers slot between his.  She tries to calm her breathing but it’s hard to focus on it and him so she settles for keeping her focus on him.
With her fingers fully tangled with his he squeezes her hand, maybe tighter than he should have, but having her so close is intoxicating, and he just wants to savor it for as long as he can.
(y/n) takes in a deep breath.
“I never said I didn’t want more,” She whispers, peering up at him from beneath heavy lashes.
His heart is beating so quickly he’s certain she can hear it.  It pounds heavily in his ears, almost louder than her hushed whispers.  Was he understanding her right? 
“I was just… afraid” She admits it softly.
Satoru furrows his brow, but his lips curl into a smirk that had her regretting saying anything because she knows he’s about to tease her now.
“Afraid?” He repeats with a small laugh.  “You think I’d ever do anything to hurt you?” 
He’s teasing, but the thought makes him want to throw up.
“Course not,” She shakes her head, before gently pressing her face further into the warmth of his hand.  She hopes it’s an unnoticed movement, but from the way he also applies more pressure in his touch, she thinks otherwise.  “More like I’m afraid of hurting you” 
Satoru laughs louder this time, his face splitting into a delighted smile.  He’s completely amused by the idea, and (y/n) frowns at him.
“You can’t hurt me sweetheart,” He practically purrs, and then he’s leaning closer.  His chest hovers over her close enough that she feels almost caged in by him.  He’s close enough now that the tip of his nose nearly bumps into hers.  “I’m completely untouchable” 
She squeezes his hand with an affectionate roll of her eyes.
“I think you have to actually activate infinity if you want it to work” She murmurs.
It’s quiet again, the two of them smiling at each other fondly, foolishly, both taken away by a deep infatuation that had been repressed for far too long.  It seeps out of them now like an overflow, pouring out in the cracks that were their adoring eyes.
Her free hand reaches up towards his face, fingertips ghosting over the soft ends of his hair that hangs down over her eyes.  She combs her fingers through the silky strands of white before trailing downwards, her touch light and gentle as she traces his forehead, followed by his nose, then cheekbone, down towards his jaw.  Her sleepy gaze observes every drag of her fingers, as though committing it all to memory.
Satoru’s frozen above her, allowing her to explore every inch of his face if she so pleased.  It was a face she’d known for years, but she touches him now like she’s only recently been bestowed the gift of sight.  He’s not sure the last time he’s been touched so gently.  There’s a distant memory of his mother’s hand caressing his cheek, but even in a fond memory the touch is fleeting.
Being touched like this- softly, sweetly, carefully, lovingly- by her, it’s as though she has all the time in the world.
Her fingers fall still over his chin as her eyes flit back up to his.
They meet for a brief moment before his eyes are falling shut and he’s closing the space between them.  As soon as his lips touch hers she’s sliding her hand under his jaw, keeping him perfectly in place as she kisses him back.
His mouth is warm, and still sweet from the cupcake they’d shared, which seems like forever ago.  In fact everything seems to fade away.  The only thing she can feel is his soft lips, his soft hand splayed over her cheek, the soft swipe of his thumb over hers where their hands are still interlocked.
The kiss is experimentally slow at first.  They’re both holding their breath, each half expecting the other to pull away prematurely with remorseful eyes.  Neither do.
They part for a second, only because oxygen becomes a necessity once more.  Satoru smiles down at her when he sees her eyes are still shut, and he can’t help but to lean in and plant one more quick kiss on her lips.  He’s waited this long to get his chance, he might as well steal as many as he could get.
As he lays back on his side of the bed, he moves his hand from her cheek to her waist, gently coaxing her to lay closer, until she’s curled up into his side, one of her legs thrown between his, her head resting in the soft place below his collarbone.  Their conjoined hands rest over his stomach.  He’s still stroking his thumb over hers.  She’s drawn to sleep by nothing but comfort.
“G’night, ‘toru” Her words are mumbled, and a little slurred.
He plants his lips at the crown of her head sweetly.  She drifts to sleep with a faint smile.
“Goodnight, sweetheart” 
___
The next morning she’s lured out of sleep by the smell of bacon.
It smells like a lot of other delicious things, too, but the bacon is what has her peeking open an eye to check the time.  Sure enough, her bed is empty, and it’s mid-morning.
This time when she slips out of the covers to go check out the buffet of breakfast foods Satoru had been whipping up- effectively making an absolute mess of her kitchen- she’s not hungover.  Her head isn’t killing her with such a brutal headache that she couldn’t open her eyes.  As she walks quietly into the kitchen, she’s able to watch as Tsumiki pours pancake batter out of a ladle, carefully making shapes on the griddle.  She leans into the fridge while she watches Satoru talk through his bacon frying process while Megumi sits on his shoulders, leaned over the top of his head, and apparently actually listening to him.
Tsumiki flips a pancake with perfect precision and they all cheer.  Satoru reminds her to add chocolate chips to the bowl of pancake batter once she’s made enough for herself, Megumi, and (y/n).  Because I refuse to eat pancakes without them, he reminds her, even though she doesn’t need it.  He’s spent enough breakfasts with them now for the kids to realize how debilitating his sweet tooth was.
It’s Megumi who first notices (y/n’s) secretly joined them.  With a boyish grin he tugs at Satoru’s hair, who cries out and almost stumbles at the sudden and sharp pain.
The pain is eased when he sees what Megumi was trying to catch his attention for.  (y/n’s) trying to stifle her laughter from behind her hand, but she’s failing.
“Awe, the surprise is ruined now” Satoru frowns.
She drops her hand and shakes her head as she wanders further into the kitchen to see what else this mess had created.  Megumi reaches towards her in a silent ask to be let off of Satoru’s shoulders.  She lifts him up with ease and sets him on the ground.
“It’s not ruined at all,” She says with a smile.  “But if you want to do it all again tomorrow, I’ll pretend I didn’t know” She adds in a tease.
“Yeah! Can we?” Tsumiki asks excitedly.  “I want to make omelets!” 
“No! French toast!” Megumi declares.
The pair break into a fit of bickering, which is quickly silenced by Satoru.
“Hey! You two are ruining this perfect morning!” He barks.  “Stop fighting and we can have both!” 
He doesn’t know how to make omelets, hell, he struggled with the bacon, so he’s hoping he can find a youtube tutorial decent enough to teach a helpless cook like him how to make some.  But his promise does the trick and Megumi and Tsumiki work together to make more pancakes.
“Do you even know how-?” (y/n) begins to question his ability as she eyes the crispy bacon in the pan he’s no longer paying attention to because she’s there now and she somehow looks so pretty first thing in the morning.  Her hair a complete mess, and donning a fluffy robe with bunnies all over it, he thinks it’s the cutest thing ever.
“Sh sh sh,” He hushes with a shake of his head, his hand wrapping around her hip as he pulls her into his side before finally looking back at the bacon.  “Oh, shit” He mutters as he darts to turn off the stove while (y/n) picks up the tongs and plucks the strips off the pan before they start to completely burn.
“Yeah, maybe tomorrow I cook,” She muses, nose wrinkling at the overcooked bacon.  But when she looks up at him again, she smiles happily.  “You and Megumi will be on french toast duty,” She says decidedly.  “I’ll teach Tsumiki how to make omelets” 
His lips curl into a smirk at the simple instruction.
“Little Hex, are you inviting me to stay the night?” 
“Ew!” Megumi grimaces, sticking his tongue out at the obvious flirt.
Tsumiki’s giggling, and starts to make a heart shaped pancake on the griddle, complete with Satoru’s chocolate chips.
(y/n) rolls her eyes, but her cheeks are undeniably warm, pink blossoming across her face.
“Only if Megumi says it’s okay” She replies, tilting her chin up at him teasingly.
Satoru turns the other way to look down at the kid that had a sinister smile on his face.  Jeez, sometimes this kid creeped him out.  How come (y/n’s) golden boy had to be such a goddamn menace?
Apparently she just had a soft spot for menaces.
Satoru meets Megumi’s ruthless stare with narrowed eyes.
“I’ll give you three hundred dollars”
“Satoru!” (y/n) picks up a kitchen towel off the counter to smack his arm with it.  “No bribing the kids!” 
“Fine,” He grumbles, catching the soft weapon mid swing before she could hit him again.  Then he peeks back towards Megumi, and in a slightly quieter voice says, “Four hundred?” 
(y/n) gasps at his blatant disregard for her rules, but before she can scold him again, Megumi gives a firm nod of agreement, and looks over to her.
“He can stay,” He says decidedly, but mutters to himself as he goes back to helping his sister with the pancakes.  “He stays over every other freakin’ night anyways” 
Tsumiki’s giggling as she whispers her own little rumors, much to the boy’s dismay, but he listens anyway.
“I think he’s warmin’ up to me” Satoru grins at (y/n).  She presses her lips together so as not to laugh too hard at the statement.
“You’ve done right by them,” She tells him, something that he’d told her not too long ago.  From the way his grin turns into a soft smile, she has a feeling he remembers.  “And besides, everyone warms up to you eventually” 
“You think you ever will?” He asks, only teasing.
She shrugs a shoulder, humming as though thinking it over.
“Maybe,” She muses, plucking a chocolate chip from the open bag on the counter.  He furrows his brow at the sudden playfulness rather than a real answer.  “We’ll see” 
[ this is a place where i don’t feel alone / this is a place where i feel at home ]
___
a/n: i just want to gush about how much i loved writing this series, and sharing it with you all. it has been my absolute passion project. sorry the slow burn was so slow but i tried to keep it as realistic to the events of the manga and just how things would play out irl. i have a couple other spin-off fics related to this series in the works so i suppose it's not over yet- i just needed more fluff related to these characters that have brought me such comfort and entertainment!! thank you all for your continued support and love for this series (and my other fics too!) having this be so well received warms my heart <3 xoxo ~ jordie
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