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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 7 months

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IF YOU ASK ME TO LEAVE, I’LL STAY FOREVER ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; satoru is stubborn; even when plagued by such a high fever, he insists there’s no need to take care of him. thankfully, you’re equally as stubborn.

word count; 10.8k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, implied non-sorcerer!reader, sickfic, reverse comfort, sickening amounts of fluff, lots of petnames, satoru gojo vs the mortifying ordeal of being loved, just a tinyyyy bit of angst if u rlly squint, literally just satoru being pampered for like 10k words straight, he’s cute when he’s sick but still manages to be a lil shit <33, he’s also a huge sap you have been warned!!

a/n; what can i say, im a proud member of the ”satoru gojo needs to be babied relentlessly” club <33 he’s just a little guy!! tagging @catchuuu my beloved for being the sweetest enjoy a healthy dose of sick sleepy satoru <33 i am tagging all toru enjoyers in spirit btw i love u all

you’ve never seen satoru like this before.

head buried into a big pillow, white locks tousled and sticking to his forehead — skin sweaty, hot to the touch, with a flushed face to match. heavy breaths fall from his parted lips, blinking in and out of consciousness, squeezing his eyes shut.

it’s nothing like the joyous, loud, cocky satoru you’re so used to. he’s weak. he’s fatigued.

he’s completely, undoubtedly sick.

”really, baby,” he slurs, raspy and dry. still attempting to raise himself up, arms straining under the weight of his shivering body. ”there’s no need f’ —”

unceremoniously, his limbs give out beneath him, and he tumbles right back down; a meek little wince escaping his throat as his face falls back into the mattress. the sound makes your heart squeeze tightly in your chest.

”ah. that’s…” he tries to speak, a disgruntled hum muffled by the sheets. ”… annoying.”

satoru sounds frustrated. you can tell he’s resisting the urge to close his eyes, a little helpless, unable to even move properly, like a fish out of water. he’s still breathing unevenly, still sweating, still burning up — you can practically feel it, from where you’re standing, crouched down by his bed.

you’ve never, ever seen satoru like this. you’ve seen him sniffling during flu season, wrecked with headaches during rainy season. you’ve seen him vulnerable; not many times, but enough that it matters.

but you’ve never seen him like this.

(and it makes you terribly anxious.)

”satoru, please just —” you croak, gnawing at your bottom lip. trying desperately to swallow the worry in your chest. ”don’t overdo it. please?”

you can hear the anxious little timbre of your own voice, and you can feel the frown tugging at your lips. but you can’t do anything to quell the insistent pitter patter of your heartbeat, the ache that accompanies it. satoru’s lying down, still trying to gather the strength to reassure you, even through the feverish haze clouding his mind.

he looks so small.

this wasn’t what you were expecting to see, today. you were expecting to meet up with satoru, and see his happy little grin, those tiny dimples and freckles that only show themselves in the light of the sun. you were expecting to feel the weight of his hand in yours, as you strolled down to the new crêpe stand he’s been wanting to check out since he first found their instagram account.

you were expecting to see him happy. healthy. a little obnoxious, a little annoying — but hopelessly sweet. all the love you could ever need, molded into a human shape. your little angel.

a sigh slips from your lips. you can’t help it; because satoru is just so stubborn, so closed off, and he can be such an idiot sometimes. you knew something was off the moment he sent you that text, asking you oh so charmingly, apologetically, if you could postpone your date for just an hour or so. you knew something was wrong, but he still wouldn’t let up until you brought out the 🥺 emojis.

and then he told you he was fine. it’s all he ever is, apparently.

my throat’s just a little scratchy, is all. wouldn’t want you to miss out on the voice you love so much, yeah?

give me an hour and i’ll be perfect for you. <3

moron.

he’s curled up in a fetal position, trying to stop himself from shivering, muttering little reassurances under his breath that you can’t make out. wearing ripped jeans and a nice jacket, like he was fully prepared to head out like this — like he genuinely thought an hour, some painkillers and a dream would be enough to chase away a fever this severe. like he was so desperate to see you he was fully willing to take that risk.

moron. moron. he should’ve called you the moment he realized he was sick. instead, you had to coax him into letting you come over, with a flurry of sad and cute emojis you know make him go weak at the knees when they’re coming from you.

and here you are. in satoru’s house, in front of his bed, trying to convince him that he is, in fact, sick.

but he just won’t listen.

”just — gimme a couple minutes, honey?” your boyfriend mumbles, barely coherent, stringing words together haphazardly. awfully dizzy. ”i just need the painkillers to kick in, i promise i —”

”satoru.”

there’s a sad tint to your voice, now. unmistakable. one that satoru notices, even through the feverish, muddy filter over his reality.

and it makes him quiet down.

(he doesn’t want to disappoint you.)

as gently as you can, you settle down on the bed, eyes painfully softened. overflowing with care. towering over him, leaning close — to press your lips against his scorching forehead, brushing away his sweaty bangs with a palpable tenderness. your voice soothing, coming out almost as a low coo. you’re frustrated, and exasperated.

but most of all, you’re worried.

”go back to sleep,” you hum, a gentle command. your hand finds his, cold skin meeting warm, tracing circles over his palm. ”i’ll take care of you.”

”there’s no need,” he mutters, instantaneous. so used to denying kindness.

but he curls an arm around your waist, anyway, tugging you closer; a little needy. like you’re much too far away for his liking. finally beginning to settle down, coaxed into resting by the soft touches your grace him with. it’s only a matter of time.

so you keep your lips against his forehead, cradling his slender fingers in yours, murmuring little whispered reassurances. and before you know it, his lashes have fluttered shut, like a white dove landing on the ground. he still looks so troubled, so meek. you can’t resist the urge to soothe him, hand cupping his face, thumb smoothing over the apple of his cheek. you watch him lean into it, eyes dripping with care. your poor baby.

for a couple precious moments, you allow yourself to indulge in the sight. even like this, he looks a bit like an angel, a painting come to life. like one wrong brushstroke could smudge him.

so you’re delicate, as you trace little hearts into his skin, delicate as you maneuver his body enough to peel the layers of clothing off him — leaving him in only an oversized tee and a pair of briefs. satoru can only whine, softly, so quiet you barely even hear him. so disoriented, on the brink of falling into a deep slumber. some part of him is trying to resist, you’re sure, still agonizing over the date he’s missing out on. as if anything matters more than his health.

but it doesn’t work. he can only let out a tiny groan, hopelessly pliant as you tuck him in, pulling a big blanket over his shoulders. you card through his hair, another soft kiss planted on his sweaty forehead — and your hand stays between his locks until you’re sure he’s asleep. his breathing mellows out, his grip around your waist loosens, seeking comfort from you even in his dreams.

you’d crawl under the blankets with him, but you have work to do.

stealing one final glance at your fever-ridden lover, your heartbeat ricochets. he still looks so meek, all warm and sweaty, shirt sticking to his skin. a frown tugs at your bottom lip.

satoru is always so stubborn, refusing to lean on others for support. you wish he had called you immediately, nagged at you to come baby him. sure, you might’ve sighed in faux exasperation, and teased him a little, but it still would’ve made you feel happy. useful. and you would’ve done it in a heartbeat. maybe, if you just prove that you can take care of him properly, he’ll do it next time.

so you stand up, leaning down to press your lips against his forehead one last time, and make your way towards the kitchen.

satoru’s house is spacious. a little too spacious, enough for at least three people to live in comfortably; nice furniture, an expensive sofa in the living room, a large tv you’re almost certain he only keeps around for white noise. such are the ways of the rich, you suppose. he doesn’t invite you over very often, so you’ve never had the chance to get very affiliated with the space. it’s always the other way around — him, waiting for you on the couch when you get home, chirping out an unconvincing don’t even worry about it, baby! when you ask how he got in without a key. or him, showing up at your doorstep in the middle of the night, filling the sleepy silence with jokes to distract you from the bags under his eyes.

(he likes it when you cling to him in your sleep — he sleeps a lot better that way. that’s what he told you, at least, when you brought him coffee in bed that one time. a little glimmer of honesty.)

he stays over so often he might as well just move in, but you aren’t really sure how to even approach that subject. some part of you fears it’d be too much, too intimate, that he’d pack his bags and run away. bringing all his secrets with him, that soft laughter you’ve grown so fond of. so you figure it’s better to let him make a home out of yours, let him curl up on your couch and snack on the candy you hid in your kitchen cabinets. that’s safe for him.

and now that you’ve seen his home up close — if you can even call it that — you think you’re starting to understand his preference. because it’s spacious, yes, but also empty. save for expensive furniture and fake houseplants, there isn’t anything to indicate that the apartment belongs to him, that he feels comfortable there. like he hasn’t even bothered to make it his. like it’s about to be sold, and you’re just one of the potential buyers, checking the place out. admiring the patterns of the floorboards and the walls.

it doesn’t feel like satoru at all.

his own bedroom was another story, a much more pleasant one. a lot more satoru. filled with little trinkets, key charms and souvenirs and silly figurines. a framed photo of three students by the windowsill, an old uniform hanging by his closet, socks strewn about here and there. a dying houseplant. comic books and movie posters and a ps5 you don’t think he’s touched since he finished spiderman 2. a king sized bed, that makes him look like a spoiled little princess when he’s lying in it, next to a cat plushie you won for him at a fair. knowing he actually sleeps with it kind of makes you want to cry.

there’s this particular scent, too, lingering in the air. mellow, nostalgic, the kind that soothes you with just a whiff; a blend between sunlight, expensive cologne, and something sweet. it clings to all his favorite clothes, to his skin. you’d live in it if you could.

something constricts, inside your chest — like thorny vines strangling your beating heart, pressing down ever so slightly. just thinking about it, about him, about his distressed expression as his head hit the pillow. making your way over to his kitchen, getting yourself affiliated with the space, preparing to make a good soup for his fever. the fridge is almost empty, save for sweets and that one drink you like. the takeout boxes on his kitchen table tells you all you need to know.

it only makes you worry more.

luckily, you were clever enough to buy your own ingredients on the way here. chop, chop, into tiny little pieces. chicken soup should help, shouldn’t it? it’s all you can focus on, all you can hope for. anything is fine; you just want to help him, be of use somehow. he does so much for you.

you just want to give some of it back.

satoru’s loneliness is a subtle thing. flexible, alert, slipping away at the slightest sign of knowing eyes. for someone who’s so often surrounded by people, cracking jokes and laughing louder than anyone else, he doesn’t seem to make any noise when he’s alone. he curls into himself, just a bit, and a kind of reminiscence smooths over the contours of his face.

that’s when you see him. that lonely, lonely guy. resigned to his self-imposed isolation, paradoxically yearning for something more. watching as the cherry trees bloom, like they’ll give him the answers he seeks once they bear fruit.

but the moment you come into view, he smiles. knowing you won’t push it — that you’ll let him take his time. that you’ll let him flee, just a little.

still, you can’t help but wish he’d lean on you a little more. you wish you could chase his loneliness away with a pitchfork, but it’s a fickle creature. you somehow doubt he wants to part with it.

all you can do is love him. love him, love him, and love him some more; until he’s had his fill.

(you’re not sure he ever will. it’s a good thing, a very good thing, because you’re almost certain you’ll never run out.)

and that’s why you’re here. in his ghost of a home, his kitchen, pouring water into a large pot. tender, sprinkling love over every single action, every slice and dice, every piece of chicken and veggies thrown into the boiling water. you try and you try, hoping it’ll reach him.

but before you can make another attempt, something reaches you, instead.

two long arms curl around your waist, suddenly, something warm and soft pressing itself against your back. and you almost flinch, completely caught up in the stirring of the soup, unsure of how much time has passed since you began. it jolts you out of your thoughts.

you know who it is, though. never mind the fact that he’s the only other person in the apartment; you know it’s him by his touch alone, the weight of his arms, that particular scent that surrounds him. like memories of summer.

it’s awfully sweet, the way he clings to you, the soft little blissful sigh that slips from his lips. but before you can feel moved at the domesticity of the gesture, worry clouds your senses. he doesn’t even get the chance to speak.

”satoru —” you place a palm on his forearm, craning your head to look back at him. his forehead rests against your shoulder, and his eyes are closed. he’s still so warm, too warm. ”what are you doing here? you should be resting.”

your boyfriend mumbles something, under his breath, something that your ears can’t quite digest. he shifts, a little, as if getting ready to put on some sort of act — to smile and joke, or laugh and tease you. you can imagine what he’d say if he wasn’t in such a feverish state; he’d hug you from behind, a low purr of what’cha up to? whispered right into your ear. then you’d jolt, and he’d giggle sheepishly, satisfied with the reaction.

but now, all he can do is cough. still leaning against you, gripping onto your midriff a little more desperately than usual. you step away from the stove, turning around, making sure your hands never leave his. looking up at him with concern in your eyes, noticing his little frown.

”c’mon, you need to lie down.” you reach for his cheek, cupping it in your palm, and he practically melts into it. enjoying the chilly sensation to his fever-ridden skin. “the soup’ll be finished soon, okay?”

”… you made,” he tries, syllables falling from his lips haphazardly. ”soup —” a series of coughs. they cut him off, and the worry in your chest only deepens.

“don’t push yourself, okay? you’re really sick, dummy.” satoru pouts, but doesn’t say anything, only clinging to you tighter when you usher him away. “let’s go back to your room, alright?”

but he won’t budge. he’s so sleepy, so sick and delirious, putting all his body weight on you. you try your best not to stumble beneath it.

”honey,” you plead, holding him securely in your embrace. his arms around your waist, your hands on his shoulders. ”work with me, please? just gotta get you back to bed —”

”’s…” he whispers, suddenly, a raspy little thing. scratchy, meek, awfully earnest; you wonder if he’s too sick not to be. ”… too lonely without you.”

a moment passes. your breath hitches pitifully, at the base of your throat.

satoru is hugging you so tightly, as if you could disappear at any moment, slip away if he doesn’t keep you close. he’s holding you as if pleading for comfort, for a touch of safety. as if he needs you. if his meek little admission hadn’t already melted your heart the marrow, that thought certainly would’ve done the job.

taking a moment to collect yourself, you inhale, face surely aflame. satoru just nuzzles into your shoulder, too tired to say anything else, wanting to be close to you. it’s a wonder your knees don’t buckle.

gently, you let your hand trail upwards, palm smoothing down his hair. softly, like he’s a clingy, overgrown cat. ”sorry,” you start, just a little breathless. ”i’ll be with you, okay? won’t leave you alone. i promise.”

there’s an earnesty in your words that you doubt you could ever fake. satoru must hear it too, you think, because he finally begins to work with you. allowing you to stumble towards his bedroom, supporting his weight.

but once you make it to his bed, he still refuses to let go of you.

”toru, gotta go finish that soup. ’n make you some tea.” you rub his back, soothingly, as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. shaking his head and emitting a throaty groan, only squeezing you tighter when you try to guide him under the covers. how cruel of him, to act so cute when said soup is most likely boiling over by the stove. ”please, sweetie? it won’t take long. i promise. you can go back to sleep.”

another groggy huff. you’re both still standing by the edge of the bed, and satoru still won’t let you leave. all you can do is sigh, smearing a little kiss against his neck.

he squirms, ever so slightly, and you get an idea.

so you keep pressing little kisses against his skin, knowing just how to make him melt. feeling him relax in your embrace, snuggle into your chest, so pliant that he lets you tuck him in — as long as your lips stay pressed against his jaw. before he can realize what’s happening, you grab hold of the blanket, draping it over him; his half-lidded eyes blinking up at you. you press a final kiss against his forehead, grabbing the cat plushie from the edge of the bed and placing it close enough for satoru to reach if need be.

”i’ll hurry, toru. be a good boy and stay here, alright?”

a teasing lilt sneaks into your voice, coaxed out by how adorable your boyfriend looks like this; baby blue eyes all droopy, snowy hair messy as it falls across the cushion he’s resting on. blinking sluggishly, grunting a little in response.

when you scurry off the bed and make your way towards the door, you glance back at him. he’s still looking in your direction, with half-lidded eyes, and your chest aches. ”i’ll be back soon, baby,” you try to soothe him. “try to sleep.”

this time, you hurry. body working almost on autopilot, images of your boyfriend still tugging at your heartstrings like he’s arranging an orchestra, moving your legs forward. before you know it, you’re walking back, carrying a tray with both your hands. steam wafts up from the hot soup and the warm cup of tea, shaking a little as you walk, a pair of painkillers in your pocket. just in case he needs more. an eager, pulsating joy rushes through your veins — now you can be with him, tend to him, not leave him alone in a room so like him you wish you could stay there forever.

your footsteps are light, almost careful as they cross the threshold. satoru stirs, waiting for you to come to his side, looking like a kicked puppy in his giant bed. he tries to lift himself up, but it looks like it requires an intense amount of focus, like his elbows could buckle any second.

”careful,” you croon, hurrying over, placing the tray on the nightstand. gently pushing him back down on the mattress. he complies almost instantly, too out of it to put up a real fight. staring at you, as if in awe.

to satoru, you appear almost as an angel, a somewhat blurry figure that he recognizes without looking. your very presence is soothing, like a lullaby in human form. with the hazy filter clouding his mind, he can’t even seem to form words correctly — all satoru can focus on is you. your movements, the lilt of your voice, a cold hand dulling the heat of his forehead.

his fever still hasn’t gone down. you try and muster a smile, but you’re sure it must look painfully coated in unease. crouching down, you place your elbows on the bed, your jaw meeting the mattress. you’re at eye level with him, now.

”hey,” you start, low and comforting. you don’t want to be too loud. ”sorry it took so long.”

using what little energy he has left, satoru crosses the distance between you, inching closer and closer. noticing it, you reach a hand out to cup his cheek — lips quick to find his forehead. a barely audible sigh leaves him, and you smile.

”d’you think you can eat?” you whisper, gazing at him fondly. treating him a little like a baby, maybe, but you can’t help it when he’s like this. quiet as a mouse. ”i made soup and tea… sound okay?”

he tries to make a noise. it comes out sounding like a strange blend between a dissatisfied groan and an affirming hum, but he still ends up nodding slightly. you wonder if indulging you is ingrained into his bone structure.

”… okay. think you can sit up, toru?”

once again, your boyfriend only hums — but he does begin to move, trying to hoist himself up, wobbling pitifully. you help, keeping him steady until his spine meets the headboard. slumped against it, he blinks slowly, feverishly.

”thank you.” you press a chaste kiss against his cheek, before reaching for the cup of tea, the scent of chamomile and lavender filling your senses. you blow on it softly. ”here. it should help with your throat, so try to drink a bit, okay? s’ got honey in it.”

silently, he accepts the cup, bringing it to his lips. when he takes a sip, you catch the slightest hint of a grimace on his lips; even with your warning of careful, it’s hot, you think he must have managed to burn his tongue.

satoru keeps his thoughts to himself, not wanting to worry you. but he can’t say bringing himself to drink it is an easy endeavor, with how sweaty it makes him feel, how it forces him to acknowledge how painfully dry his throat is. how he can’t even taste the herbs.

he wants to be good for you, though.

so he gulps it down, slowly, managing to sip almost all of it until you decide to give him a break. compared to this morning, he already feels just a little better, a little less like he’s in a fever dream. you’re sitting by the bedside, so patient, so caring. he can’t take his eyes off you, even now. clearing his throat, attempting to get used to speaking again. ”thanks.”

the mutter sounds strained, but slightly easier on the ears, easier to make out than before. courtesy of the honey, you assume. gosh, you hadn’t realized you’d begun to miss his voice so much.

”no problem,” you hum, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “think you can eat something? or is that too much?”

”’course,” he croaks. there’s a slight sense of liveliness in his eyes that wasn’t there before, but before he can continue, he’s caught off by a small coughing fit. harmless, but sufficient in making you worry.

”no need to force yourself,” you soothe, patting down his head, watching as he quiets down. the tea might’ve given him a temporary energy boost, but you still don’t want him to overdo it. “just relax, satoru.”

he hums, weakly, and you reward him with a light ruffle of his hair. then you direct your attention to the soup on the nightstand, still hot, smelling of vegetable broth and fresh chicken and coriander. you bring the bowl down to your lap, and take a spoonful of the soup, blowing on it like you did with the tea. bringing it towards his lips.

”i dunno if it’ll taste very good,” you admit, scratching absently at the back of your neck. ”but it should help with the fever, at least. i’d be happy if you could eat a bit.”

as his lips make contact with the metal of the spoon, satoru can’t help but let himself be swept away. he still feels a little too hazy, too feverish to really comprehend what’s happening; he feels oddly bare like this, vulnerable, a little afraid of what might come out of his mouth if he doesn’t keep it shut. so he opts to accept the treatment he’s receiving, not putting up a fight or making a fuss. not meeting your expectant eyes.

(he feels a little shy, being spoonfed by you. how very unlike him.)

the soup does feel soothing. he thinks he can even get a sense of the taste, how hard you must’ve worked on it. but more than anything, the way you’re acting is like balm to his soul — looking at him so kindly, treating him so tenderly. offering him spoon after spoon with gentle words of encouragement. being babied in such a way makes him feel so oddly content that he’s almost embarrassed. it should be the other way around.

yet here you are, spoonfeeding him soup that you made yourself, because he’s sick, even though he hates to admit it, and you care about him. he allows the information to linger in the back of his head, for a while, wallowing in the comfort it brings him. fully comprehending it would take too much of a toll on him, in this state.

satoru basks in the intimacy of the situation, and so do you. brushing strands of hair away when they stick to his skin, pressing your lips against his forehead to check his temperature. you keep doing it until satoru’s appetite dwindles.

”alright, that should be fine —” you glance down at the bowl, now roughly half-empty. more than enough, you think. ”uhh… how do you feel?”

”… better,” satoru answers, truthfully, the ghost of a smile on his glossy lips. ”thank you.”

for a second, you only stare, saying nothing. there’s something in satoru’s expression that catches you off guard, something that’s a little hard to identify. is it the way the light reflects off his skin, his pupils? the red, feverish flush of his skin? that flimsy little smile? or is it the honesty in his eyes, the way he’s looking at you like he’s trying to convey something he can’t put into words?

as you look at him, take him in, the boy you love so dearly, you can’t help but feel like he just carved open his chest — let you peek inside his ribcage. it’s hard not to feel flustered, in the presence of something so vulnerable.

and he’s thanking you. as if taking care of him is a great burden, a chore, something you’d demand gratitude for. you want to tell him that it’s the bare minimum, the very least of what he deserves. the very least of what you could, should do for him.

you want to tell him that he’s safe, here. that there’s no need to be the strongest, whatever the hell that means, that he can let go of the burdens you know he hides from you. that he can just be your sick, terribly stubborn boyfriend.

”… okay,” is all you breathe out, every other word getting stuck in the back of your throat. ”that’s good.”

satoru’s fingers curl around yours, suddenly, where they lay on your lap. his movements are still a little groggy, disoriented, as he brings your hand up to his lips. they’re warm and soft, especially so in light of his fever. he closes his eyes, white lashes catching the light of the sun, flitting in through the haphazardly closed blinds. your heartbeat stutters.

”… love you,” he mutters. a soft little thing. your eyes don’t leave his face, and your lips part before your brain can instruct them to.

”i love you too,” you blurt out, instantaneous. like you couldn’t bear to keep him waiting. ”… satoru.”

he smiles against your skin. he always does, at the sound of those words. you make him feel so terribly, terribly weak, all the time, everyday. you make him feel so human, and he can’t bring himself to think of it as a bad thing anymore.

he’s still cradling your hand when he brings it down to the blanket. ”thanks for coming,” he continues, pushing himself. trying to get the words out while he still has the energy to say them. “you didn’t have to.”

they’re a little clumsy, a little stale on his tongue, but they’re honest. he is thankful — the prospect of being seen like this is discomforting, gruelingly so, but he doesn’t mind nearly as much if it’s you. he’d never tell you, but he did feel just a little lonely, when he woke up this morning. disoriented, enveloped by hot flashes of pain, in a way he’s not used to in the slightest. missing out on your date, too, that he had been looking forward to ever since you decided on a time.

but, as if sensing it, you came to his rescue. the feeling of your lips on his skin was the first sensation he felt, when he woke up for the second time — with you by his side, this time. his guardian angel, carrying the scent of spring with you. the memory of a certain boy, of better times.

(satoru thinks you’re nostalgia personified. he likes to imagine that you met as children, underneath a cherry tree somewhere, but he knows it’s not true. there’s no way he wouldn’t remember you.)

you smile. pleased, at his show of vulnerability, small as it may be. ”i wanted to,” you assure him. equally honest, equally full of double meanings and hidden messages that neither of you need to uncover to understand. ”… i care about you. of course i’d come.”

a light, raspy chuckle; that’s all satoru manages to vocalize. his mind is stuffed, and there’s an ache in his chest, longing to be filled. it’s been there for a while now. but somehow, some way, you manage to fill it up, slowly but surely, almost effortlessly — with every sound you make, every slight movement, every flicker of an expression on your face. everything seems so effortlessly perfect, in his eyes.

the words leave his lips before his mind can think the thought to reel them back in.

”what did i do to deserve you…?”

you blink. a moment passes.

then your eyes soften, considerably so, crumbling at the corners like the cookies satoru loves so much. he’s looking at you, eyes soft in a similar sense, layered over with adoration. you think the love inside your chest might crawl out of your throat and eat him alive.

a chuckle of your own drips into the air, quivering slightly. terribly fond. this time, you’re the one who drags his hand up to meet your lips; kissing his knuckle softly. his breath hitches.

”i’m the one who should be saying that to you,” you grin, a little weakly. and you mean it. you don’t think you’ve ever meant anything more.

it’s so honest that it strikes a cord right down his heart, more heat than the fever can account for rushing to his cheeks. satoru hopes you don’t notice it. all he can do is squeeze your fingers, lightly, not trusting his voice not to break. silence lingers, and you only gaze at him softly.

”… do you want anything else?” you finally ask, with a tilt of your head. still so eager to assist, racking your brain to come up with anything else to do for him. ”i’ll get it for you, no matter what it is.”

and, truthfully, satoru thinks you’ve done more than enough. more than he could ever make up for. but he’s always been greedy, and there’s one thing, only one thing, one thing he can’t help but ask for. something he craves more than anything. he can’t help but indulge himself, indulge in his selfishness, in the need to feel your skin against his.

so he stretches his arms out, and looks at you with a distinctly needy glint in his eyes. his fingers move in a grabby motion, almost unconsciously, and he might’ve been embarrassed if he wasn’t still so feverish. all he wants is to keep you close, to make the hollowness inside his chest dissipate. you always make that lonely feeling go away.

needless to say, you heed his request. almost instantly, your heart pumping in a steady rhythm, with this visceral desire to keep him close, to protect him. and who are you to resist, when he’s asking for it himself?

you waste no time crawling beneath the covers, situating yourself right next to your lover. only then do you finally, finally, reach your arms out to pull him close; so close you feel the heat of his skin, the beat of his heart. his cheek meets the softness of your chest, snuggling closer, and you card a hand through his soft locks. his arms reach around your midriff, a perfect puzzle piece, and he releases an audible sigh — deep and satisfied. in his tired, clingy state, he subconsciously throws a leg over yours, trapping you further.

you wouldn’t have it any other way.

finally, satoru can fall asleep. with the fever still clouding his senses, and your nimble fingers smoothing along his scalp, the occasional kiss to his head as he listens to your soft heartbeat, he’s drifted off before either of you know it. melting into you, into your warm embrace, cheek squished against your chest. tiny little breaths fall from his lips, and you feel like you’re cradling the whole world in your arms.

you’re relieved. making yourself comfortable on your back, with satoru sleeping soundly on top of you, hoping he’ll feel better when he wakes up. careful, even with your breathing, intent on letting him sleep. knowing he doesn’t get nearly as much rest as he should, most days.

before long, even you succumb to the cozy atmosphere, gradually dozing off. satoru is always warm, even more so now, and his weight is comforting.

stifling a yawn, you tug him a little bit closer, allowing your eyes to flutter shut. you could use a day of catching up on lost sleep, too.

when you wake up, you’re acutely aware of something poking your cheek.

it’s a ticklish sensation, sort of irritating, and it rouses you from your cozy slumber. disgruntled, so cruelly ripped away from your sweet dreams — satoru was in it, you think. you feel robbed.

still, you can’t be too mad. not when the real deal is right in front of you, eyes crinkled and full of warmth, a teasing smile on his lips. he’s still snuggled into your chest, all cozy and cute, as you lay on your back, propped up by a myriad of fluffy pillows. he looks up at you adoringly.

”well hello there,” he purrs, shooting a giddy little grin your way. still poking your cheek. ”wakey-wakey, sunshine!”

a series of blinks. you stir a little further, the sleepy haze of your brain beginning to slip off, slowly but surely. it takes a couple of seconds for you to remember why you’re here, what happened before you fell asleep.

”… hey,” you greet, at last, stifling a yawn and squeezing your eyes shut. stretching lazily, like a sleepy cat. ”how do you feel…?”

”i’m perfect. better than perfect, actually,” satoru chirps, a little cheeky, hoisting himself up so that he’s hovering above you. a hint of mischief in those pretty eyes. ”you’re a good nurse, y’know?”

you huff out a chuckle. as always, his actions reveal more than his words — you could tell he felt a lot better the moment you saw his smile, heard how he formed his words. “alright, that’s good,” you hum, exhaling softly. ”how long was i asleep? what time is it?”

”i woke up just now, too,” satoru lies, albeit a small one. he did wake up recently, only to spend what he thinks must’ve been at least fifteen minutes staring at you until he physically couldn’t take it anymore. he had to hear your voice, see your smile. it’s a personal record for him; usually he spends less time admiring your peaceful expression, far too eager to speak to you.

”it’s pretty late,” he continues, another small lie. pleased with himself. ”way too late for you to go back, actually. how about you spend the night?”

another blink, your eyelids heavy and droopy as they open and close. then you’re reaching for your phone on the nightstand, and checking the time. a smile is quick to bloom on your lips, teasing and bubbly, as you tilt your head to meet his gaze.

”it’s only four, satoru.”

”way, way too late,” he only reaffirms, flopping down on top of you again, keeping you from leaving. ”god knows what kinda creeps are out there at this hour — much too unsafe. i’m just looking out for you, baby.”

”of course,” you indulge him, a sly little roll of your eyes that makes him pout. ”you know i was planning on staying over anyway, right?”

”well, of course! i wouldn’t expect anything less from my favorite nurse.”

his eyes betray his words, gleaming with a sudden colour of excitement, all glitter and relief. a joy that clogs up his throat like seafoam, and spills out from his lips. you look down at him, for a second, unable to resist the temptation — reaching for his forehead with the back of your hand.

it’s significantly less scalding, now.

you let out a sigh, laced with relief, one you didn’t know you’d been holding in. ”it really has gone down,” you hum, stretching the sleep from your limbs again. “that’s good.”

satoru huffs. ”i said i was perfect, right? don’t you trust me, my sweet lover?”

”i never know with you,” you give him a huff of your own, exasperated. fond. “you said you were just fine this morning, too.”

”i was!” he whines. piling up lie after lie. “i totally could’ve made it to that date, you know. i got worse because you had no faith in my abilities.”

”right. of course.” you shoot him a lopsided grin. ”you just don’t wanna admit the fever beat your ass, huh?”

”see? no faith.” a chuckle slips from your lips, and satoru has to bite back a smile. ”unbelievable. i fought that fever off just for you, and here you are, laughing at me.”

”oh? i thought it was thanks to my top notch nursing skills?”

”well, that too! but it was mostly me.”

a sigh. “whatever you say.” then you’re smiling, once more, unable to help yourself. eyes crinkled at the edges, soft around the corners. ”i’m just glad you’re better. i was worried.”

satoru pouts, again, but you can tell he acknowledges it — your earnest concern. this is how you love, the both of you, through words that never say it all and actions that say the words your mouths can’t fit. decoding the meaning of it all in silent gestures, glints in your eyes. little truth games.

”you really thought a lil’ fever was gonna be enough to keep me down?” he shakes his head once, then twice. and you know that what he means to say is i never want you to worry. “c’mon, now, baby.”

another lighthearted roll of your eyes. ”yeah, yeah, yeah. my sincerest apologies, my strong, stubborn, totally-not-sick boyfriend.”

”don’t you mean your strong, perfect, beautiful, clever, flawless, totally-not-sick boyfriend?”

”don’t think i didn’t notice you sneaking the stubborn out of there.”

”hehe.”

a silent moment passes, something tender filling up the space between your words. satoru’s weight is still so comforting, like a big blanket, his arms enveloping you as he breathes in your scent. you’re so happy that he’s acting insufferable again.

”alright, my honeybee,” he suddenly chirps, breaking the silence, hoisting himself up. ”time to go. we can still get those crêpes if we hurry.”

you blink. once, then twice.

”… satoru.”

”yeah? what’s up?”

you give him an unimpressed look, gazing up at him, towering over you like he fully thought you’d be alright with letting him leave. ”you’re… not going out today,” you deadpan. “you know that, right?”

this time, he’s the one who blinks. once, then twice.

”huh? why not?”

”uh, because you’re sick, maybe?”

”what?” satoru pretends to be shocked, offended, as if he can’t believe you’d even suggest something so outrageous. ”i’m all better, though!”

you raise an eyebrow, thoroughly displeased. all better? ”your fever isn’t gone, satoru. it’s just not horrible anymore. you’ll get yourself even more sick if you go out now.”

”i won’t! seriously!” he insists, looking down at you with a sorry attempt at puppy dog eyes. ”i feel good enough to run a marathon!”

”you’re not doing that either,” you mutter. then a sigh, exasperated. you can’t let this charade go on for too long. ”come on, satoru — don’t be so stubborn. we can go there another time.”

”but —”

”besides, didn’t you say i have to spend the night because it’s too late to go outside? remember the creeps?” there’s amusement in your voice, a light smile on your lips. ”what if they get us?”

”well, they obviously won’t get you while i’m there,” he huffs. ”what, you don’t think i can protect you properly? you’re hurting me, angel.”

you bite back an incredulous laugh. god, he’s stubborn. you’re so in love with him you just barely restrain the urge to pull him in for a kiss.

”sa-to-ru,” you coo, dragging each syllable out, sending a shiver down his spine. ”we’re not going outside. end of discussion.”

”why not, though?” he continues to pout, still refusing to give in. resorting to cheap guilt-tripping. ”don’t you wanna go on a date with me? you don’t want to see me happy, is that it?”

you only sigh, thoroughly exasperated, reaching up to cup his cheek nonetheless. he nuzzles into it. ”you’re such a baby.”

”your baby.”

another sigh, to mask your adoration. at this rate, the back and forth will never end, so you scramble for solutions.

“can’t we just have our date here?” you suggest, after some contemplation. ”i bought some ice cream on my way here. we could watch a movie, or something. isn’t that enough?”

satoru’s eyes bore into yours. contemplative, as he lets the silence linger, gears turning inside his mind. he wants to go outside with you, wants to hold your hand and hear you hum happily as you bite into your crêpe; wants to steal a bite when you’re not looking.

but it is a tempting offer. you could eat ice cream, and binge a bunch of movies, and he could rest his head in your lap. coax you into playing with his hair.

(he’s maybe, just maybe, a little bit tired, too.)

so, finally, he sighs — softly. in resignation.

”… well, i guess that’s fine,” he pouts, allowing himself to fall back into your embrace. his voice is muffled, as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. ”i wanted crêpes, though…”

”i’ll get you your crepes,” you assure him, relieved to have reached a compromise. ”i can go buy ’em myself and come back. then we —”

”no, no, no!” satoru suddenly interjects. whining, tugging you closer. ”you’re not going anywhere. not without me!”

a sigh, just as adoring as it is fatigued. ”then i’ll… order crêpes, or something. or we’ll eat ice cream today and then crêpes when you’re better. does that sound okay?”

satoru is silent, for a while.

”… okay,” he hums. ”that’s fine.”

”haah. okay, good —”

”however!”

you give him a look, a silent what now? that has him smiling. shuffling a little, in your embrace, planting his jaw on top of your chest and gazing up at you with a grin. ”instead of the crêpes, i want a kiss.”

you blink. exasperated, as an amused chuckle follows. ”so convoluted. you can just ask, you know?” you don’t give him time to answer, eager to appease the pouty man. ”whatever.”

leaning in, you press a chaste kiss to his cheek. sweet and soft. to your surprise, he’s still pouting when you pull away. ”i meant on the lips,” he explains, as if it was obvious.

a tilt of your head.

”… but you’re sick.”

”so?” satoru just pouts, expression practically etched into his face at this point. ”you won’t kiss me anymore? just cause i’ve got a tiny, miniscule fever?” he huffs, turning his head to the right and shutting his eyes. ”if you don’t love me anymore, you can just say that.”

another sigh leaves your lips. he’s so ridiculous. you can’t really deny him, though.

”… fine. it’s your fault if i get sick, though.”

in the blink of an eye, he’s perked right back up. wagging his non-existent tail, closing his eyes and waiting for you to try again. silly.

but you relent. his lips are only slightly warmer than usual, and you choose to see it as the good sign it is, proof that his fever truly is starting to dissipate. you feel satoru relax, melting into the kiss, but before it can drag out too long you’ve pulled away. ”— there. happy now?”

”for now,” he quips, equally teasing. he’s cute, though. a little kiss or two is a small price to pay for the spark of joy in his iris, even if it ends with you sick on your deathbed in a couple of days.

”that’ll do,” you grin, hoisting yourself up with your elbows, carrying satoru with you, his jaw still on your chest. ”wanna go eat some ice cream, mr unreasonable?”

you don’t really need an answer. of course satoru wants ice cream. you’ve never seen him turn down anything sweet — and, lo and behold, he perks up again, getting into a sitting position. like an excited puppy.

”got it,” you chuckle, stopping to think for a moment. “there’s soup left, too. but maybe you’d rather order something? it turned out kinda so-so.”

satoru gapes. ”you kidding? that was the best soup i’ve ever had!”

his exclamation makes you roll your eyes, words so coated in confidence that you almost want to believe him. ”satoru. you don’t have to lie.”

”i’m not!”

”you couldn’t even taste it.”

”i could, i could!” he stubbornly whines. ”i tasted all your love. every single drop!”

you give him a look. he only grins at you, a little teasing, a little giddy. you can’t help but feel a bit embarrassed; averting your gaze with a sharp scoff. ”yeah? and how did my love taste?”

satoru leans forward. it’s sudden, and you blink, instinctively leaning back in turn. he’s wearing a signature smirk when he stops moving, close enough that you feel his breath on your skin. hot.

”delicious,” he purrs, glancing down at your lips. blue eyes gleaming with mirth. ”best thing i’ve ever had.”

you know he’s just trying to fluster you, so you try to fight against it, but it doesn’t work nearly as well as you’d like — crumbling under his gaze, averting your own with a quiet huff. and he lets you off the hook, satisfied with your embarrassed expression. pulling back slightly, letting you breathe.

as swiftly as you can, you regain your composure. clearing your throat. ”well, you can have more of it later, then,” you make a move to get off the bed. ”let’s go eat ice cream.”

after being caged in by satoru for so long, your limbs are a little stiff, caught under the weight of his boundless love. when your feet hit the soft flooring, you stretch them out, watching satoru follow your lead. still clad in that sweaty shirt.

”you should probably get a change of clothes,” you suggest, exhaling as your muscles loosen up. ”you’ve been wearing that shirt all day.”

”oh? is that an excuse to see me out of it, sweetheart?” satoru grins, fresh mischief gleaming in his eyes. ”you know you can always just ask.”

you huff out a sardonic breath. ”yeah, yeah, whatever. throw on a hoodie or something, weirdo.” you stifle a giggle when he makes an offended noise behind you. “and some pants.”

”you don’t like the underwear?” he looks towards the corner of the room, studying himself in the mirror. “this is an expensive brand, you know?”

”you’re the only person on planet earth who’d give a fuck about underwear brands,” you scoff, a little snarky. ”just — put some comfortable clothes on, okay? i’ll go get the ice cream ready.”

”wait!” he exclaims, attaching himself to you, curling his arms around your bicep. “you’re not allowed to go anywhere without me, remember?”

“… okay, okay. hurry up and get changed, then.”

sitting back down on the bed, while satoru walks towards the closet, you scroll through your phone — refusing to meet his expectant stare. he wants you to look over, you’re well aware, just so he can tease you for trying to sneak a peek. you won’t give him the satisfaction.

when he’s done, he’s wearing a comfy hoodie and some sweatpants. it’s a good look on him, casual and cozy. awfully cute. he wastes no time in attaching himself to you, again, an arm linked with yours as you travel to the kitchen; grabbing the pints of ice cream from the freezer, a couple snack bags from the drawers, before plopping down on the couch.

satoru maneuvers you into his lap, and you don’t put up a fight, leaning into him as your back meets his chest. he keeps you locked in place, arms around your waist, planting his jaw on the top of your head. and he relaxes, comforted by your smaller body pressed up against his. holding you so close satisfies a certain protective itch in his brain, never failing to calm him down. a safe haven, of sorts.

you watch the movie and eat the snacks, chattering away, letting the silence linger every now and then. after a while, satoru gets a slight headache, resting his head in your lap and whining for you to soothe him. you do so without any teasing; you’re much too soft for him. and he’s still sick, even if he’s doing better. you couldn’t resist him even if you tried.

so you opt to indulge him.

”baby, i think my fever’s going up again…” satoru pouts, gazing up at you through fluttering lashes. ”can you check?”

you smile, with a raise of your eyebrow. ”this is the fifth time you’ve asked me to check your temperature, toru.”

”just wanna make sure,” he whines. “please?”

with an exaggerated sigh, you lean down, lips once again meeting his forehead — humming against his skin. nope, his temperature hasn’t gone up. just like it hadn’t gone up the last time you checked, or the time before that.

”you’re good.”

”oh, thank god,” he exhales. ”are you sure? like, a hundred percent sure? maybe you should check again. just in case.”

”satoru,” you coo, a teasing lilt on the tip of your tongue. ”you can just ask me if you want a kiss.”

”a kiss? scandalous. i just wanna make sure my condition doesn’t worsen.”

he’s grinning, and you’re rolling your eyes, and both of you know damn well you’re going to indulge him anyway. he sighs in satisfaction when he feels your soft lips on his heated skin.

”hmm…” you narrow your eyes, thoughtfully, before looking down at him with a teasing smile. ”nope. definitely still the same temperature.”

”you sure?”

”a hundred percent.”

”hmm. okay, got it.” he rolls over, burying his face in your stomach. wrapping his limbs around your midriff. “that’s good. just wanted to check, you know?”

”of course.”

”might need you to check again soon. just to be safe,” he chirps, biting back a soft grin. you don’t bother hiding yours.

”got it, got it,” you coo, fingers carding through his messy hair. “anything for my sick baby.”

satoru releases a soft breath, bordering on a giggle. you can’t help but let your smile grow wider, heart brimming with affection. you let it clog up your chest until the movie’s almost over, and you simply can’t help yourself anymore.

”your room is very like you.”

it’s sudden, breaking the peaceful silence, making satoru stir. you’re both starting to get sleepy again. but he blinks up at you, studying your expression before parting his lips.

”… oh? how so?”

“well…” you stop to think. humming, absently fidgeting with a lock of your boyfriend’s hair. ”when i first walked in, i thought the whole house felt kind of empty, you know?”

satoru hums. unsure of where the conversation is going, maybe just a little intrigued. he mostly just likes listening to you talk.

”but then i went into your room, and — it just felt very you. kinda messy, and stuff, but cozy. and a little sentimental.” satoru looks up at you, admiring that certain soft glimmer in your eyes. you meet his stare with a smile. ”maybe it doesn’t make sense? i guess i’ve just been thinking about it.”

he closes his eyes.

there’s something soft in your tone, something silky and simple, and he can tell you’re being sincere. it’s something he likes about you — that willingness to be soft, almost pridefully so, to bare yourself even if you aren’t sure that he’ll return the favour. he likes to think it’s rubbing off on him, slowly but surely; he doesn’t think he’s quite as bad as before. telling you about things that are dear to him isn’t something that scares him, anymore. and even when you see him vulnerable, sick and delirious in bed, he isn’t afraid that you’ll use it against him.

you’re a comfort; his safe haven. a place to rest his weary head. maybe you always have been, even before he really got to know you.

”i like your place more,” he finally admits, lighthearted in its weight. your gaze flits down, but his is still lingering on the tv, not really paying attention to it. ”it feels very… you.”

a smile crawls up to rest against your lips. playing along, your hands finding solace in between his fluffy locks. ”how so?”

and satoru smiles. eyes sparkling with something mellow, like a soda pop cracked open on a boiling summer day. he shifts a little, just to gaze up at you again. ”it’s… homely. warm,” his smile only grows. “and awfully sentimental.”

he lifts a hand up, to touch your cheek. tender, as his thumb smooths against your skin. it’s warm, beneath his touch, heating up with every word he speaks. satoru’s love feels a little like the sun, when it spills out this fervently, like it could burn you into cinders — you think you’d be happy to lie in the ashes. he’s smiling at you, like sunshine, like little dusty specks of light. and he exhales.

”i wouldn’t mind staying there forever.”

the expression on his face is a lovely one. you take a moment to simply bask in it, desperate to etch it into your memory. you don’t think you could forget it even if you tried. how fondly the light of the room embraces him, that soft grin he’s shooting your way, only vaguely teasing. and his eyes, the gateways to his soul, so sincere you can’t look away.

you love this man with your whole chest. you knew before, you’ve known for a long time, but each day you fall in love all over again. it’s all you can think as you look at him, all snug and safe and happy in your lap.

you don’t realize you’ve been staring at him silently until he chuckles, pulling you out of your sentimental stupor. it only flusters you further.

”you’re cute,” satoru croons, still cradling your cheek. tender, soft fingertips against your heated skin. all you manage is a meek little furrow of your brows, but that only makes him chuckle again.

”… you can.”

he blinks. still smiling.

”stay forever, i mean.”

you can’t look at him, when you say it. the words are barely above a whisper, and you aren’t sure if they’re conscious or not. it’d be nice to say they just slipped out, but they feel somewhat deliberate, all the same. you know you mean them, either way. it’s the one thing you’re sure of.

this time, satoru is the one who can do nothing but stare, his expression unreadable. you try not to let your gaze wander to his face, his eyes; but through the peripheral of your vision, you feel like you catch a particular kind of sadness reflected in them. or maybe it’s something closer to yearning, longing. something like that.

”… well,” he finally hums, voice so low you barely pick up on it. ”maybe i will, then.”

you reach something.

you catch a glimpse of it, at least, for just a second or two. something warm and bare, something simple and incomprehensible at the same time. an emotion so strong it leaves you reeling, yet still so light. it’s there and then it isn’t, just out of reach, and you think that if you could only find the courage to curl your fingers around his, then —

a laugh track plays from the tv, snapping you both out of your thoughts.

(the moment passes before you can fully understand it, fully comprehend it. maybe some part of you already has.)

…

satoru chuckles, reaching for another ball of mochi and popping it into his mouth. ”this movie’s awful, huh?”

”yeah,” you’re quick to agree, maybe a little too quick. grinning weakly. ”it’s good in a so bad it’s good kinda way, though.”

he hums in absentminded agreement, still chewing on the soft treat. keeping his gaze steady on the screen, the flicker of emotional scenes he hasn’t been keeping track of, barely resisting the urge to look up at you again. but his heart already feels a little too mushy for his liking — he’s not sure he could take it.

satoru doesn’t get sick often.

his immune system is strong, there’s no denying that. but more than anything, he simply can’t afford to be sick. there are people who need him, people who depend on him, and the idea of being in such a defenseless state — stuck in bed while the world continues to spin, unattended — makes him feel so anxious he could throw up. even sleeping makes him feel a little skittish, sometimes, though he’s gotten a lot better since he started falling asleep with you in his arms.

it’s funny, he thinks. before you, being sick wasn’t something that really existed in his world. if he felt a little under the weather he would simply puff out his chest and down a painkiller or two, waving it off with a flick of his wrist; no biggie, really. he’s satoru gojo, after all, and the world needs his eyes on it.

but then you came along. you came to his rescue, spring in your pockets, and you took care of him, with what he knows to be love. genuine, earnest concern for his wellbeing. his happiness.

yeah — it’s funny, for sure. satoru never thought he’d ever enjoy being sick.

yet here he is, head in your lap, feeling you run your fingers through his hair. kissing his forehead whenever he whines, indulging his little convoluted ploys. bringing him soup, when he gets hungry again, soup you made yourself. he wasn’t kidding when he said he tasted your love through it; it was all he could taste, with his numbed out senses, all he could feel.

you’re so good to him. there’s nothing he would trade for these moments with you, absolutely nothing. he’s glad you came over, after all. glad you’re so stubborn, and oh so caring. satoru can’t help but smile, heart almost stuffed to the brim with gratitude — what could he possibly do with this immense love in his chest?

”i love you so much,” he blurts out, practically beaming. now you’re in his lap, again, and he takes the opportunity to smear openmouthed kisses against your neck. delighting in the little squeak you try to muffle.

”where did that come from?” you blink, squirming a little in his embrace. a movie is still playing on the tv screen, one better than the last — your attention was fixed on it before satoru broke the silence.

”just felt like saying it!” he only chirps, grinning ear to ear. ”i love you. you’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he murmurs, earnestly, lips against your skin. ”my whole world.”

for a moment, you wonder if the fever is making him delirious. then again, this is pretty standard for satoru; always eager to fluster you, to shower you with love until you’re pushing him away. it’s overwhelming, but you’ve never minded. this is how you measure his love — little gaps between too much and never enough.

”… you’re not gonna say it back?” comes a whine, right by your ear. now he’s nibbling at your neck, little beast that he is, pouting because you let the silence linger for too long. he’s being such a baby about it. but you still rush to reassure him, echoing his words in earnest.

”i love you too, satoru,” you smile, slightly exasperated. craning your neck so that your lips can meet his jaw, and satoru grins, giddy at the attention. ”my whole universe.”

satoru lets out a happy little noise, almost a giggle, sleepy and pleased. his arms squeeze you just a little tighter, like you could never be close enough, even when he’s got you in his lap like this. if he could, he’d keep you there all the time. attached at the hip, close as can be.

even with a ruined date, even after worrying you, he feels well and truly satisfied. because you're here, and you’re watching a good movie, and you’re gonna stay over tonight. when it gets dark out, he’ll get to fall asleep cuddled up beside you, hold you in his arms and feel you nuzzle into his chest. then he’ll pepper your face with kisses to wake you up, and you’ll grumble all sweetly, and he’ll carry you to the kitchen despite your grumpy protests. you’ll eat breakfast together, chatting and enjoying the way the sunlight flickers around the room like a happy cat. maybe he can even make you breakfast himself, to thank you for today.

if the fever’s gone by then, you’ll probably let him outside. then you can go get those crêpes, and maybe go to a park, or to the movie theatre, or a fun arcade, before heading back to your apartment to relax. and then he’ll stay over. the day after, too. and the day after that.

living together with you wouldn’t be so bad, he thinks. it wouldn’t be bad at all, actually.

the thought has been on his mind for a while, now. getting to fall asleep with you every night, eat breakfast with you every morning, see more of your footprints in his life… satoru can’t think of anything he’d like more. maybe he’ll start hinting at it, slowly but surely. if he can lure you into broaching the subject, that would be ideal — but if he has to, he doesn’t mind doing it himself. you’re worth the emotional toll.

you curl into your boyfriend a little further, his jaw now resting cheekily on the top of your head, large palms underneath your shirt and rubbing circles into your bare skin. you have no idea what he’s thinking, no idea about his plans, and he thinks that’s for the best. he knows you’ll indulge him, at the end of the day.

maybe he’ll just ask you, tomorrow. if you say no, he can just blame it on the fever making him delirious.

#save me sick soft sweet sappy satoru….. save me……..#he means the wholeeee universe to me :’3 i love this specific toru sm !! i really do think he’s a lonely sweetie at heart :((#i wrote this fic a LONG time ago but i polished it a bunch so hopefully it doesnt feel rusty !!#i scrambled to come up w a title in time but i think this one kinda slaps idk … im severely sleepy rn so it might. Not be. though 😭😭#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #jjk x you #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x y/n

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ssahotchnerr · 5 months

Text

speculation - aaron hotchner x reader

aaron confides in you his suspicions haley is cheating on him.

cw: bau!reader, takes place in s3 timeline - before the divorce, angst, mentions of adultery and unfaithfulness, aaron's sad but not really showing it (naturally), light foreshadowing that someday aaron and reader get together <3 wc; 1.2k

aaron's hands gripped the steering wheel and his stare was pointed forward, the atmosphere heavy in the car. grey clouds had been rolling in all morning, and now the rain was just beginning to fall, a light sprinkle pattering on the windshield.

the two of you had just frequented a crime scene, departing after a rather tense situation - one of the investigators had nearly disrupted the crime scene in a lazy wake, and aaron had thoroughly allowed him to know his mistake.

while aaron was always stern, it was... different this time.

"hotch?"

at his name, you managed to pull him from of his thoughts - you could tell by the way his jaw moved, his grip on the wheel ever so lightly loosening.

aaron didn't respond though; figuring he wasn't too keen on sharing whatever was on his mind, you put your focus out the window, watching the rain begin to slowly collect on the road.

"haley's cheating."

your head turned towards him in an instant, a sickening dread beginning to pool in your stomach at the blunt confession. "what?"

"haley's cheating on me." he fought against the brokenness that dared to ache in his voice, remaining solid and firm in his words. he released a breath, as if saying it out loud made it real; the final confirmation he needed himself. "i may just be paranoid, creating something out of nothing. but things have been... strange."

"oh." your shoulders slumped, the back of your head hitting your headrest.

"strange enough it's been noticeable."

"what's been going on?"

"weird phone calls." he bit his lip as he gazed off to the side, as if he were recalling an instance internally, his hold tightening once again. "she's been more distant. uninterested. sometimes, when she comes home, she won't look me in the eye."

ouch. "i'm sorry."

it was rather surprising, in an odd way. to the naked eye, aaron was someone who was well put together; phenomenal at his job, a clear key-in for potential director of the bureau someday. from an outsider perspective, one could infer he lived a perfect life, and therefore had the perfect family to go along with it.

if he wasn't confiding in you, that's what you would've thought.

aaron didn't talk about his personal life - that's one thing you quickly learned upon your addition to the team, a month or two ago. you could recall what penelope had for breakfast, what books spencer had read in a day, what color underwear morgan had currently on.

anything about aaron, nothing.

whether it was because he was your boss, or because he wasn't an openly expressive person, you always went back to the guilty thought - has anyone at least ever asked?

while you all went out for drinks after a long day, aaron never usually attended. but he had a family at home, of course he would go home to them - that's where his priorities laid.

the constant secrecy surrounding him was the reason you've been so intrigued by him since day one - spending so much time with someone you knew nothing about.

and if you learned anything now, he wasn't going home to the home you had previously thought. it was barely a home, he was more so a guest. you were slowly beginning to understand more why he rarely smiled.

aaron hotchner was just as human as anyone else.

even now, he wasn’t showing much emotion. it was evident he was extremely hurt, and had all the emotions one could imagine. but would he distinctly let that on, letting his vulnerability show - no.

aaron opened his mouth to respond, slight hesitation before he spoke. he began to deflect, "but i could just-"

"no. listen to your intuition." you interrupted softly, grounded. "like you said, if you're taking notice, something's going on."

he nodded in agreement, the motion of his head strained. he did force out a chuckle, a terribly sad laugh. "part of me doesn't blame her-"

"don't say that. she's your wife."

"exactly." aaron sighed out, eyeing the wedding ring on his left hand. "there's something i could've done to prevent this. to keep her interested. to solidify i'm still here for her despite the long hours and schedule. instead i'm the husband and father who's never home. and it's difficult to be the husband i want with the possible betrayal."

"she's your wife." you repeated, solemnly. "so she should know you. you're the husband and father who stops at nothing to catch the criminals who walk amongst us. you're this job, and asking for understanding on that isn't wrong. regardless of what you say you're doing wrong, or have done wrong, it doesn't give haley the excuse to... do this."

you didn't want to say cheat. not for his sake - the depth of the word felt harsh and prominent in your chest.

"i appreciate you saying that." his eyes met yours briefly, the tone of his voice genuine. "but i messed up. i guess what they say about getting needs met elsewhere is true."

you quieted.

aaron also added after a moment, in an exasperated near-whisper. "and besides... i don't think she's known me in a while."

silence filled the car once more, and you let out an exhale. you felt for him, and his marriage. you couldn't imagine what it felt like, or how he felt: the person who you thought was your forever slipping through your fingers - like trying to catch smoke. it was there, you just couldn't grasp it.

you hoped you weren't overstepping boundaries with your next question. "does she know..."

"that i know?" aaron asked, and you nodded. he kept his stare forward, chewing on his bottom lip for a moment. "i believe so, yeah."

you waited for him to speak again, while he was confiding in you, you didn't want to pry - none of really this was your business. you at least hoped it was clear you were offering support within the silence.

and you must've, because he continued. "i feel sick to my stomach it could be happening in my house. in my bed. with our son in the next room over." he shook his head angrily with the last sentence, in disbelief as he clicked the windshield wipers on, the rain falling more heavily now. "i lie awake at night when we're gone, just thinking what's going on at the moment."

"i wouldn't do that." you offered quietly, although you knew that advice was nearly impossible to follow. "you will make yourself sick."

aaron vaguely shook his head again, defeated. "i don't know what else to do."

you weren't sure what to say, or exactly why he was telling you all this. again, you didn't know him well. and not only, in a way, he terrified you, in more ways than one. the only way you could describe it - when he looked at you, he really looked at you. you were terrified of what he could make you realize about yourself.

"so, what are you going to do?"

"i don't know."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x fem!reader

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emphistic · 3 months

Text

Forget-me-nots

A/N: call me Nick Cannon the way im out here rawdogging this fever

<- Series m.list

“Hey, babe,” you said, catching Sukuna by surprise. You placed your hands on the back of his gaming chair, “I’m gonna go on a walk. D’you wanna come with?”

“I’d rather go for a run, but God knows your slow ass wouldn’t be able to keep up.” Sukuna removed his headset and placed it on his desk, before following you out of the room.

If he had kept his headset on for just a little longer, Sukuna would’ve heard the protests and complaints of Gojo. The white-haired man was utterly disappointed at Sukuna for leaving in the middle of a game, who was going to carry him now that Sukuna was gone?

Sukuna looked you up and down, watching you as you put on your shoes, and let out a scoff, getting your attention. “You’re forgetting something.”

You met his gaze, “Uh huh, go on.”

“A jacket, dumbass. A jacket.”

You waved your hand around, dismissing his suggestion. “Don’t be silly, Sukuna. It doesn’t go with my outfit.”

“That so?” He raised a brow.

“Mhm.”

“It’s literally dark out, babe. Who are you trying to impress?”

The two of you continued on your way out of the complex without putting an end to your usual lighthearted banter. The sky was clear of clouds when you made it past the front doors; and cool air immediately hit your skin. Okay, maybe Sukuna wasn’t wrong in reminding you to layer up.

But, despite his demeanor on the exterior, Sukuna was far from cloud nine. Was that selfish of him? To truly have everything, and yet, still want more? He managed to get himself a loving girlfriend, not to mention, one that was exceptionally beautiful, both on the inside and outside. He should be content; he should be satisfied. But how could he? When guilt gnawed at him every second, every minute, every hour?

Sukuna was afraid, deathly.

He could tell you about the bet, but it was inevitable that you would leave him right after. Or, he could choose to keep silent about the bet for the rest of his life. But that would mean Naoya Zen’in having a leg up on him, and that was no good.

Sukuna couldn’t help but sneak a few glances at your face, admiring your elated expression. He liked the sound of your voice, and hearing you laugh. The thought of you being gone plagued his mind, and he knew he would be a dead man walking if that nightmare became true.

Things truly could not be worse for the pink-haired man, who felt utterly pathetic. He felt vulnerable, and weak. Completely opposite of the image most people portrayed him as. Which is quite amusing, to say the least.

Sukuna was at a crossroad, but it was clear he wasn’t choosing either path. Maybe it was the worst choice, maybe it was the best choice, but Sukuna knew that doing nothing was probably the most impactful choice, and so he decided to let God play out his fate, leaving him to wait day and night, never knowing when you would find out and his world would flip upside down.

To bet something is to “risk something, usually a sum of money, against someone else’s on the basis of the outcome of a future event, such as the result of a race or game.” Sukuna knew that, when he was drunk at that damned party. Sukuna knew that, when he signed up for this. Sukuna knew; he wasn’t stupid; he was a grown man. And yet, he had never felt so little.

“—Nobara was telling me, after the party, about my . . . complexion, or, I don’t know. My skin was apparently glowing—”

“Are you a virgin or something?” Sukuna cut you off with a laugh, turning to look at you. And, not that he had any knowledge in the field, but, with the way your hair blew ever so slightly in the wind, and with the way the moonlight casted upon your face, illuminating your best features, you looked just like a cinematic masterpiece.

You gave him a pointed look, as if to say, You would know, and again, Sukuna laughed.

“It’s called afterglow, babe. Science-y stuff, I figured you would already know, but I guess not.”

“Can you go one second without being rude?”

“You’re funny; don’t get your hopes up too high,” Sukuna ruffled your hair as you both continued down the dimly lit street.

It was a quiet, peaceful night. There would usually be something happening a block away, maybe sirens in the distance, kids playing around and screaming, but there was not. Maybe that was a blessing, maybe that was a curse, but it left you and Sukuna both to your own thoughts, and that was comforting enough.

“Is everything okay? Did you have a long day?” you asked, breaking the overwhelming silence. You turned to look at Sukuna with worry written all over your expression.

Sukuna had been tense ever since he got home, like a heavy weight had been placed upon his shoulders. You thought it strange; your boyfriend was a carefree man. He was easygoing and laid back; he knew how to start up a conversation, get everyone’s mood up, but this. . . This wasn’t Sukuna.

Whenever you two went on walks or runs together, sure, there’s a silence, but it was never like. . . Like something was wrong. It was never like this.

“Hm? No, I’m fine. I just have a lot to think about, that’s all. Don’t worry for me, ‘kay?” Sukuna gave you a smile, but it only tightened the knot in your chest, your concern doing the opposite of diminishing.

Truth was, you didn’t know what to think. And if you had to be honest, you couldn’t say your mind hadn’t wandered to the idea of Sukuna being unsatisfied with your relationship. Was he upset with you? Did he think you too much? You shuddered just thinking about it.

Unbeknownst to you, Sukuna watched as your eyebrows furrowed, and you chewed at your bottom lip. It was a habit of yours — the latter, and Sukuna noticed you only gave in to it whenever you were anxious or deep in thought.

“Hey, I was thinking, how about we go out sometime?” asked Sukuna, out of the blue.

You two hadn’t been on a date since the baseball game, and that was a while ago. Sukuna missed spending an entire day with you, and was desperate for something fun to take his mind off of the bet.

“You make it sound like we haven’t even kissed yet,” you covered your mouth, trying, but failing, to stifle a giggle.

“What else did you want me to say, huh?” Sukuna humored you, mentally patting himself on the back for managing to lift the tension.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe something like, ‘Do you want to—,’ actually, I have no idea. How do you ask someone on a not-first date?”

“That’s a good question,” Sukuna added. “Now that I think of it, I’m not sure.”

“Eh, whatever. Any other way is totally better than yours.”

“Now who’s the rude one, hm? Do you want to go on that date or what?”

You laughed, “I’m only teasing, ‘Kuna. Of course I do; I don’t even know why you’re asking.”

“It’s polite.”

“You? Polite? Hilarious.” You placed a hand on Sukuna’s arm, but he pulled away, feigning to be hurt by your words. But you knew he was just trying to joke around.

“Awh, baby, don’t be sad. How can I make it up to my handsome, handsome boyfriend?”

“You can’t.” Sukuna turned his head away from you, hiding his grin.

You didn’t take no for an answer, and stood on your tiptoes in order to plant a wet kiss on Sukuna’s cheek, even going as far to voice a Mwah! sound.

When Sukuna still didn’t look at you, you started to wonder if he was genuinely upset. But when he abruptly turned around to smash his lips on yours, all other thoughts in your head completely vanished and you melted in his arms. Placing your hands on his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around your waist, you kissed him back just as fervently.

One of Sukuna’s hands wandered down your middle to the small of your back and rested just above your behind.

With your boyfriend’s lips on yours, his arms wrapped tightly around you, and his murmuring of sweet nothings every now and then, all previous worries and concerns of yours were no match. Maybe everything was fine, after all.

“You look good,” Sukuna said, a sultry look in his eyes as he shamelessly checked you out.

You couldn’t help the heat rising to your cheeks, “Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

He shrugged, “I try.”

“So, where are we headed?” You asked, immediately after entering your boyfriend’s car.

Sukuna hadn’t told you anything since he asked you out. Only thing he said was, “Look pretty for me, like you always do, and bring a jacket or something.” But since he knew there was no way in hell you were going to listen to that last bit, he already knew he was giving you his hoodie if you needed it.

“Ah, you wouldn’t know,” said Sukuna, as he started driving down the road.

“Oh, yeah? What, you gonna drive me to a secluded area and chop off my head or something? Is that why you’re being so lowkey about all of this?”

“Would you like that?” Sukuna quipped, turning to look at you as he pulled up to a red light.

You laughed, “I don’t know; I haven’t tried it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

It wasn’t long till Sukuna and you arrived at a crowded space overshadowed by the large buildings beside it. Said space was filled from corner to corner with food vendors and other small shops selling trinkets, clothes, toys, et cetera. There was music booming from speakers located all around, and the air smelled like a variety of food that had you salivating on the spot. Not to mention, the beautiful array of string lights above all the stalls, giving an authentic sense and feel to things.

Families, friends, couples, and individuals walked through the streets of the area. Carrying toys that lit up or made music with a simple click of a button, holding small paper plates stacked with food, bargaining prices of intricate garments, or simply conversing with their companions. The air was filled with the sounds of laughter, gossip, jokes, whispers.

The exciting, fun-filled atmosphere of the place was surely popular among its customers. And, even taking one look at it all, you knew you were bound to have endless entertainment and enjoyment here, tonight.

“What do you think?” Sukuna asked, noticing you had gone quiet. His voice was barely above a whisper, saddened by the idea of you hating it. He thought you might’ve liked something like this, that’s why he picked this place. But maybe his judgment was—

“It’s—I’ve never seen anything like this before. It’s beautiful, and the food smells amazing,” you smiled, looking at Sukuna.

Unbeknownst to you, the pink-haired man let out a sigh of relief upon hearing your answer.

“I used to go here all the time with Yuuji back when we were little; he loved the oyakodon. I don’t know if they still have the same one he preferred.”

“We should take a picture, babe. Make him jealous that we’re having a better dinner than him.”

Sukuna laughed, “You’re starting to sound like me. I think I’m rubbing off on you, squirt.”

“It’s only payback since he ate the last of my Häagen-Dazs. I was saving it,” you grumbled, still holding a grudge about the distant memory.

“Sure, sure.”

Sukuna snaked an arm around your waist, directing you to a red, striped stall. Smoke flying from the back of it as people fried and cooked and did whatever. “Jakoten?” he suggested.

“Obviously.”

If there was one thing you learned while being with Sukuna, it was that he was an eater. He wasn’t picky, no, quite the opposite, really. He could eat literally anything he got his hands on. Sukuna had a strict diet — being an athlete and all that — but he had his off days, where he could eat anything he pleased.

And, although you are a little less “wild” compared to him, you two often shared interest in the same dishes. Like jakoten, for example. But that’s a simple one, most people like it, so that’s not much good of an instance.

Sukuna and you waited near the front of the food stand, and when it was time and your order came out, Sukuna helped put a cupped hand under your chin, catching all of the tiny crumbs in his palm.

“Good, right?”

Your reply came muffled, as you chewed on the fried fish paste. “Mhm.”

“Where do you want to go next?” Jakoten was delicious, Sukuna couldn’t deny it, but you would be wrong if you thought that was enough to satisfy his hunger.

“Hm, we should go and see if they have tonkatsu. I’m kinda hungry for a main dish now.”

Together, you and Sukuna walked hand in hand around the people-filled space, seeking out different meals to try. Contrary to your main mission — finding a filling dish, you and Sukuna both had your fair share of small appetizers and sweet treats. When you two decided unanimously to find a table to sit down at and enjoy your dinner, you weren’t aware of how difficult of a journey that was.

To say the place was packed was an understatement, and most people didn’t even try to find seats, instead opting to stand and walk the whole time. After getting hundreds of steps in just to come out fruitless, you and Sukuna gave up on even the idea of sitting down.

“You know, I was thinking,” you began, while picking at the greens on your plate, “we should totally get a bowl of noodles, and recreate that scene from Lady and the Tramp.”

“We totally should not.” Sukuna shook his head, an unamused look on his face as he bit into a Japanese type of skewered chicken.

“C’mon, it’ll be cute. And, and, we would get to kiss,” you pursued.

“Is kissing you supposed to tempt me?”

“I—How dare you; you know what, don’t talk to me.” You turned away from a laughing Sukuna.

“Aw, sweetheart, I was just joking. ‘sides, who would pay for your food if you walked away from me?”

You turned back around.

Pleased with himself — having gotten your attention back, Sukuna gave a boyish smile, “That’s more like it,” before swinging an arm around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your temple.

You squeezed your eyes shut at the feeling, “Don’t, ‘Kuna. You’re going to make me drop my food.”

“So cold. Your boyfriend’s giving you kisses and you tell him to stop? That’s a new low, even for you,” Sukuna feigned a hurt tone, but remained smiling all the while.

“Mm, yeah. Sulk all you want, you were the one who refused my kisses first. Don’t you dare forget.”

“You’re really never going to let that go, are you? Ah, I know, would this,” he pulled out a wad of cash, “change your mind?”

Sukuna had seen you eyeing a ramune-selling vendor ever since the both of you arrived. Of course, after being around you for so long, he was quick to learn that ramune was one of your weak spots. You were a fiend for anything sweet, after all. And the popular carbonated drink was perfect for the current weather.

Seeing your eyes widen to saucers, Sukuna knew he had won you over.

“Just, get me one, too, alright? You’re not the only thirsty person here.”

As you began to walk in the direction of the stand, Sukuna abruptly pulled you back, “Actually . . . they might have soju, so get me a cup of that instead. You know the kind I like.” And with that — and a final kiss to your cheek, Sukuna sent you off.

It didn’t take very long to acquire your drinks, as the line was pretty short seeing as most people were starting to leave the area considering the late time. On the other hand, it did take you a fairly drawn-out amount of time to find Sukuna. For he wasn’t in the same place he was before; Sukuna was now standing in a much more secluded area. And, he wasn’t alone, either.

The blond dude, who hosted that party, was standing in front of a very tense-looking Sukuna. To passersby and the naked eye, the two men might look like they were simply a pair of friends conversing. But to you, you noticed Sukuna’s clenched jaw. You noticed his arms, crossed over his chest. You noticed his eyes, usually holding a light to them, were dark, and Sukuna was glowering.

You assumed they started talking a little while after you left Sukuna to go shopping, and, as strong as your morals were, you couldn’t help but listen in to their conversation.

“—I’m surprised, I didn’t foresee a chance to meet you tonight, captain. And, another date? You’re really scoring, aren’t you? Though, I can’t say I expected less from the Ryomen.”

“Look, Zen’in, I told you — a million times, actually, I’m done playing this stupid game of yours. Grow up, or, better yet, find something else to entertain your fucked up brain.”

“Woah, didn’t mean to hit a nerve there. I was just about to ask — since we’re already here — if you wanted your cash now, or later. Wouldn’t want to intrude on your little date.” Naoya let out a low laugh, “You know, you’re really starting to drain my bank account. First kiss, two dates, and you fucked her? Man, you’ve outdone yourself.”

With each sentence that man spoke, your jaw only dropped lower and lower. Your chest tightened, and it felt unbearably suffocating to breathe. Tears threatened to spill at any second, but you still weren’t sure if Naoya was lying, and making all of this up.

God, let this be just a nightmare.

Sukuna couldn’t have. . . Sukuna wouldn’t—he wouldn’t do something like that to you, right? He wouldn’t use someone, all for a silly bet.

Heat rose to your face, as emotions bottled up inside of you. You didn’t know how to feel. Angry? Sad? Betrayed?

When the blond noticed you standing only a few feet away, and snickered, “Whoops, looks like I am interrupting something.”

Naoya flashed you a fake smile, before turning back to Sukuna, “Take care, Ryomen.” He pressed multiple hundred dollar bills onto the pink-haired man’s hand, and took his leave.

Sukuna hadn’t noticed you before Naoya said something, and when he saw your face, hurt written all over your features, his eyes softened. He tried to take a step forward, but with every step he took, you took two backwards.

“Sukuna, I—I don’t even know what to say to you,” your voice cracked, and Sukuna swore his heart shattered right then and there at the look on your face. “Is it true? — the things he said?”

It pained Sukuna, to see you hold out hope. Hope for him. Hope for your relationship. He was undeserving of such grace to be bestowed upon him, and couldn’t say anything but, “I’m sorry.”

Your expression morphed into that of confusion, and then into one of frustration and anger. You couldn’t believe Sukuna just threw away everything you two had, shared, dreamed of, all for some money and a stupid bet.

“Was nothing we had real to you? Was everything just a big ole lie you fed me so that you could see some more zeros at the end of your already large enough fortune? . . .Sukuna, answer me.”

Your voice got softer as you spoke, till it was just above a whisper. Your breathing was uneven, and came in gasps. This was all too much for you to wrap your head around.

“I trusted you, I gave you everything. You saw me vulnerable, you saw me naked, you . . . you—” You weren’t even aware when it started, but tears were streaming down your cheeks at this point, and even wiping them away with your sleeve didn’t help.

All the while, the man who brought you so much joy, and now, so much pain, could do nothing but stare back at you in silence. His eyes were empty, the light gone. The man you loved, gone. Sukuna didn’t try and defend his stupidity, he had no reason to. He was in the wrong, and was — rightfully so — being berated for his doings. Sukuna loved you, but pride was a much stronger feeling than love.

“I thought you changed, Sukuna. I thought you matured, and grew up, and learned, but . . . God, I was so wrong. You’re nothing different than the boy who tormented me in high school, aren’t you. But, I don’t understand. . . What did I do to you? What did I do for you to—to treat me like this? You willingly accepted to be paid to take me out?”

“Was I not enough for you, Ryomen? That you felt the need to be rewarded for staying with me?” Your voice was so, so soft; it sent a pang through Sukuna’s heart.

In your eyes, Sukuna now looked so different, after having learned what you did. He was really nothing but a man. A man whose pride and dignity and ego took the best, and worst, of him.

“I can’t believe I even trusted you. But, you know what, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter what you think of me. It doesn’t matter what I did. Anything regarding you doesn’t matter to me anymore.”

You’re not sure what took over you at that very moment, but you do know that throwing a drink at a man does contribute to getting your emotions out. “There, you can have your soju, you can have your money, you can have whatever you want. Good bye, Ryomen. And good fucking night.”

You had no way home; Sukuna was the one who drove you two here, and you both knew that. But you didn’t care. As long as you got away from that man you would be okay. You would be okay. . .

At that very moment, after seeing you storm away from him, and into the crowds of people — who appeared shocked to see a woman with mascara running down her cheeks, — Sukuna understood the term ‘significant other’. He realized you were his other half. You completed him. But now. . . You were gone, disappeared, left — forever, if he didn’t do something about it. Sukuna wasn’t whole. Hell, he wasn’t even half. He was nothing, nothing without you.

It wasn’t like Sukuna to cry; he was a grown man. And yet, he had never felt so little.

As the days went on, Sukuna couldn’t have been more stupid as to think you would talk with him after a week’s time, and that everything would go back to normal. He wanted this to be a nightmare. But oh, how wrong he was. For days upon days upon days, you greeted him with nothing but silence.

You blocked him on all social media, you premeditated routes to avoid him on campus, you deleted his number, you did everything to erase the face of the man whom you called the love of your life from your mind. The both of you went from texting or calling each other almost every night to complete radio silence. It drove Sukuna to the brink of insanity.

“—I’m just saying, you should go tell her you’re sorry. I mean, that was a really fucked up thing to do. And, even coming from you, I’m surprised.” Yuuji popped another potato chip into his mouth as he lounged on his older brother’s sofa.

“Don’t you think I’ve done that already? She hates my guts, Yuuji, and—and I don’t blame her but. . . Right now, she thinks I’m a dickhead who just used her for money. But that’s totally not true.”

Yuuji raised a brow, as if to say, Are you sure about that? And Sukuna sighed, plopping down beside his brother.

“Okay, I’ll admit, I technically was using her, but only at the very beginning, but everything after our first phone call was real, genuine. I didn’t get into this whole bet thing to hurt her, I was just trying to prove Naoya’s bitchass wrong and maybe make his wallet lighter at the same time. . . I really, really love her, Yuu—”

“Y’know, I’m not a big fan of listening to your drama-filled life, but I’m also not very keen on hearing you be a sap.”

Sukuna, outright ignoring his brother, continued on with his speech anyway, “God, this might be the most stupid thing I’ve ever done.” He ran a hand down his face, exasperated.

“It is.”

Sukuna shot him a pointed look, and the younger boy only shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you, dude, I’m pretty sure your girl broke things off permanently. Besides, there’s not much you can do to redeem yourself, anyway. Betting on a relationship is a pretty shitty move.”

“Do I look like I don’t know that?” Sukuna grumbled, stealing a handful of chips from Yuuji’s bowl.

“Well, you could’ve at least explained yourself while you had the chance, instead of just saying you’re sorry. I mean, poor girl, you faked a relationship with her and that’s all she knows.”

Sukuna — deep in thought, held his head in his hands.

“I’m sure if you tried to give an explanation she would at least hear you out. Eh, it might not even be too late to get her a bouquet or something. Whaddya know, I heard girls liked those kinds of things, when you get them their favorite flower and stuff.”

Yuuji paused, “You do know her favorite flower, right?”

“. . .”

“Man, I’m an optimistic person at heart, but this is just. . . You might be a lost cause, ‘Kuna.”

Sukuna had a lot of hope. Key word: had. As in, used to have.

Attempt no1:

They say Forget-me-nots (also referred to as Scorpion Grasses) represent true love, and respect or, at least, something of the like. But, the flower also — when gifted to someone — symbolizes that you’ll always hold them in your heart and in your thoughts and in your mind. The flower could additionally be interpreted to suggest fidelity, and being truthful, genuine, to someone you love.

Now, Sukuna knew you were smart. And he never doubted that fact, despite all of his previous teasing and joking of that. But he had never wished for someone to have knowledge about the meanings of flowers more than he has at this very moment.

It’s funny, one can laugh, but it’s true that Sukuna spent countless hours researching different flowers and their archaic all the way to their modern meanings just so he could prove maybe he wasn’t that much of a dick, after all.

But maybe, he should’ve put a little more effort into the planning of his execution rather than the organizing part of it.

Sukuna knew you were avoiding him, even going as far as changing your daily routes to classes even if it meant walking farther distances. He was more impressed than offended at how dedicated you were to the whole “Never-Seeing-His-Face-Again” bit.

There really wasn’t much he could do to be able to see you in person, since you blocked all contact with him, but . . . Sukuna did happen to think of one way he could meet up with you.

While he may not have been the best boyfriend, Sukuna was still . . . decent, sorta, if you put aside the whole bet crisis. And, even if he couldn’t remember the purpose of your Student Council meetings, he did remember the directions to where your briefings took place. Call him a stalker or serial killer or whatever, it doesn’t change the fact he drove you to and from those damned meetings.

Pacing to and fro outside of a library was already strange enough; being covered in tattoos and having pink hair did not help with the amount of stares Sukuna received, but right now, he couldn’t care less. Sukuna gripped the bouquet of Forget-me-nots — and other flowers, but it was mainly filled with Forget-me-nots, like his life depended on it.

He went over his speech — that he had previously practiced with Yuuji the night before — over a hundred times in his head. But when he suddenly heard you call out his name out of confusion, all that he managed out was a plethora of garbled “I’m sorry’s” and “Please’s.”

“Sukuna? What—what are you doing here?” you asked, bewilderment written all over your features as your eyes wandered down to the enormous bouquet in his hands. Being greeted by your ex-boyfriend right after finishing a meeting was not on today’s Bingo card for you.

“I—I know the other night was . . . a mess,” Sukuna scratched the back of his neck, “but I didn’t get to explain myself and—”

“No, it’s okay, you have nothing to explain. Everything was a lie; everything you said was a lie; everything we did was a lie. See? I get it; no need for your clarification.” You shook your head, and began walking down the street to your next destination.

Even after knowing Sukuna for so long, you were a fool for thinking you could “outwalk” him. The male had no intention of letting you leave without you hearing him out first, and he was able to catch up to you within just a few strides.

“Can you just let me talk? For a second?”

You quickened your pace, trying your hardest to get him off your tail, but he just wouldn’t budge. Doesn’t this count as harassment?

“There’s nothing for you to say, Sukuna; I’m not wasting my time with you on this.”

Sukuna murmured your name, “Please, there’s more to the story than you think. I didn’t accept the bet to hurt you, I. . .” His voice trailed off as he wondered what to do next, but he suddenly remembered the bouquet and shoved it into your arms.

“What is this?” Your face morphed into one of incertitude, your voice softening as you examined the bouquet, but still, your pace never slowed.

“Special flowers, for a special girl.”

You rolled your eyes, again, quickening your pace; you were now speed walking while holding a comically large bouquet. Sukuna was finally not the only one being stared at, though he didn’t revel much in that fact.

“Don’t say that. You know we’re not together anymore; we’re over. Are you ever going to get that through your skull?” You finally stopped in your tracks, and turned to look at Sukuna — half because you were out of breath from walking so fast and half because you wanted to see the expression on his face.

“We don’t have to be; c’mon, I want to make things right—”

“Sukuna! I wasn’t expecting to see you here!” A high pitched voice called out, out of the blue.

You both turned your heads to see who it came from.

“You never texted me after I gave you my number last week. Don’t tell me you’re shy; there’s nothing scary about this girl,” the short brunette giggled.

In truth, Sukuna had no idea who this was. Probably just some rando who hit on him after seeing him play basketball.

“Lady, I don’t even remember your name—”

But the girl had already caught up with Sukuna and looped her arm around his, acting all friendly and whatnot. Sukuna looked at you for help, but you merely scoffed, amused with the sight, “You shouldn’t have to make things right in the first place. You chose this, don’t you remember?”

Exhaling, you turned on your heel and walked away.

“Nobs, I think I might take a break from the dating scene, for a while. I mean, I’ve only recently begun to be able to look at Sukuna’s face without breaking down in tears.” While you tried to appear better off, your voice gave it all away. You weren’t completely over him yet.

“But, you’re hot; you’re young. This could be the perfect opportunity for you to make Sukuna regret losing you.” Nobara tried her hardest to get you to go to this party with her; she knew about your recent breakup, of course, but she was apparently too scared to go on her own, since Maki was unavailable.

“If Sukuna’s going that just gives me all the more reason to not go,” you stopped shoving ice cream in your mouth for a second to really get your point across.

Nobara sprawled across your bedroom floor, miserable, but not as miserable as you. She started thinking about not going to the party after all, but she had been looking forward to it all week! Ugh, going alone is the most “Loser thing” ever.

You paused your eating, and thought to yourself, If Sukuna’s really desperate to explain to me and apologize, he must be in his feelings, so he probably won’t go to the party.

“Ah, you know what, maybe I can go to that party, after all—”

“Really? Oh, my God! Yes!” Nobara immediately jumped up from the floor and threw her arms around you, trapping you in a hug.

“I’m still stuck on why you’re so happy. I seriously do not get what’s so great about this party.”

“Everything, duh.”

“Whose house is this, again?” you asked, once you and Nobara pulled up at the address you put into the GPS.

“Uh, dunno. I’m pretty sure Yuuji does, though; he got me the invite.”

At the mention of his name, your mind immediately went to his brother. Which was your first mistake, since tonight was supposed to be fun, and help you forget about everything that went down.

“Oh, so they’re in the same year as us, then?”

“Mm, probably. C’mon, what are you stalling for, let’s party!” Nobara dragged you out of the car and continued dragging you until you both arrived in front of the door.

Upon entering, you noticed the house was . . . nice — definitely not a mansion, unlike someone else’s, but it was the size of a typical “party house”. It looked sorta old, but it wasn’t rundown, so maybe people just used it a lot for large gatherings like this.

Did you want to play Seven Minutes in Heaven? No. Were your protests overlooked? Of course. Did you sit down in the circle? Yes. Yes, you did. This was now your second time playing the game, and your opinion of it hadn’t changed at all. Being surrounded by drunk or high college kids instantly soured your mood, and you almost regretted agreeing to join Nobara.

A brunette girl, whom you recognized as the girl from yesterday, spun the bottle first, and the game commenced. What’s different about this house is that it has multiple closets, so the game progressed pretty quickly, with several couples being in their respective closets at once.

When it came down to your turn, you spun the bottle, though, not without some hesitancy, at first.

1 . . .

2 . . .

3 . . .

The empty bottle went around the circle three times before it landed on . . . Sukuna? What the fuck? You hadn’t even noticed he was here. This happened last time, too. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with this game? Is it cursed or something? God.

There was visible and audible shock amongst the crowd.

“Didn’t this happen at Naoya’s party?”

“Yeah, it did!”

“That’s crazy.”

“Look, I know this might not be the best situation to say this but—”

Despite your misgivings about doing so, you went in the closet with Sukuna anyway. And after locking the door behind him, Sukuna turned to you with a desperate look on his face.

Attempt no2:

“I’m giving you seven minutes, because that’s all the time we have in here anyway and also because I’m bored and curious as to what you think is a valid apology.”

“Okay, that’s—that’s enough for me. . . I know — that from the moment we met, it started off bad. Beyond bad. Horrible, even. But I want to make things right between us. Because, you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And, I fucked things up. I followed through with Naoya’s bet when I was drunk and out of my mind. I should’ve ended it the next day but I didn’t; I wanted to prove to Naoya I could take you out. Because . . . I’ve liked you for a long time, probably since high school, even. And I know I never expressed that in a good way, but that’s only because I never realized it myself. So, seeing him just dangle the money in front of me, I just—I just thought of the money as a nice ‘incentive’ or something.”

“That’s a weird thing to think.”

“Yeah, I know. And I was stupid to think that that justified what I was doing. But, everything after our first phone call was real, I swear. Nothing we did together was fake or me just using you to get money. But, I won’t deny that that doesn’t change the fact I was an asshole—”

“You are an asshole.”

“Okay, that I will admit. Yes, I’m an asshole. But, I’m sorry. I’m a sorry asshole. Heh.”

“Did you just laugh at your own joke?”

“I—uh—” Sukuna took in a deep breath, “I know you could have as many me’s in your life, and hate them all the same. But I’ll only ever have one you. And that’s all I need. So please, I won’t ask for you to take me back; I don’t deserve that, but please, I just want you to hear me out.

“You can punch me, kick me, block my number and delete it, but please, don’t ignore what I’m saying to you right now. Know that I’m sorry — though sorry doesn’t quite cut it, but please know. Know that I love you. Know that I’m completely devoted to you. Know that I will kiss the ground with which you walk upon. Know that I love you, for fuck’s sake, and will wait for you to accept that — you don’t have to love me too, just accept that I love you. Please, know.”

Sukuna’s voice was soft as he spoke with such earnestness you almost wanted to feel guilty. You knew what he did was unforgivable. And yet, you couldn’t help but feel as if you wanted to just forget all that had happened and go back to how things used to be between you two.

You would be a terrible liar to say you hadn’t missed Sukuna, and although he was a stupid asshole, his words proved he did nothing with ill intention. He agreed to the bet because that was the extra push he needed to be able to ask you out. He couldn’t have done it by himself, out of fear or anxiety or whatever. It was an impossible thought — the idea of Ryomen Sukuna being scared of rejection, but nobody was superhuman. Everyone has emotions.

Speaking of which, maybe it was an emotional choice to take a step forward. Maybe it was an illogical choice to finally meet Sukuna’s eyes since you two entered the closet. Maybe it was an impulsive choice to wrap your arms around him, bringing him into a tight hug, with your head resting on his chest. But, either way, you felt it was the right choice.

At first, Sukuna was tense, surprised at the sudden embrace. But, he remembered it was one he longed for, ever since that fateful night, and it didn’t take long for him to return the hug, wrapping his arms around your torso.

Through silent, unspoken words only the both of you shared and understood, you two basked in the moment of finally getting your love back. Sukuna had more words to say than he could speak. You had more feelings to share than you could show. The time you two spent apart was excruciatingly and regretfully (on your part) long.

On both sides there was an absence of something fundamental; whatever you two built while together was gone. But now? There’s not much to be said except for the light returning to those crimson eyes that you so loved.

It’s enigmatic; you don’t know what possessed you to speak up — your voice muffled due to burying your face in Sukuna’s chest. But you knew it was partially because of how long you spent bottling up your emotions: anger, sadness, regret, longing. All for one man, and one man only.

“I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate your stupid brain, that managed to apologize whilst using math as metaphors. I hate your dumb smile, which still stuns me even after everything. I hate your annoying voice, which is the only thing I can fall asleep to. I hate your hair, which stands out in every crowd I enter to avoid you.

“I hate your motorcycle, which even the rational part of my mind still imagines hearing the engine of. I hate your hands, which I undeniably long to feel in my hair. I hate your way of talking to me, which I can never get bored of, no matter how hard I try. I hate when you lie your way out of the littlest of things. I hate when you’re not around, and I have no one to tell me jokes that don’t even make sense. I hate that you think you can just win me over because you got me flowers knowing they have a specific meaning.

“I hate that I hate you. I hate that I still love you.”

Hearing you sob your heart out while laying everything bare for him, Sukuna couldn’t help but place a kiss on your crown, burying his nose in your hair. After all, Sukuna had a feeling you were just listing parts of him you loved. But either way, he didn’t mind. This was simply the start of everything reverting back to normal, something both you and Sukuna longed for. And, —

In the end,

Sukuna didn’t want anything. He wanted everything. He wanted you. (you were his everything.)

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒

A/N: Thanks for all the love and support I’ve received on this series!!, it was definitely a pain to finish and every one of your comments and reblogs and likes definitely helped me get through writing this <3

Taglist: @beyond-your-stars @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @lordbrainsnatcherr @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside @kelerina-ballerina @emikokomura @xiraxdl @sterzin @catobsessedlady @alwaysfreakingout @uhnanix @ssetsuka @wrldtups @lovra974 @rzcnlb @piercddprincess @satoru2716 @bananaminn @tomiokasecretlover @bigraga-sk @villainsevilandhot @5seos

#its COMPLETE finally #sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna fluff #sukuna angst #sukuna x y/n #sukuna ryomen x reader

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merthosus · 26 days

Text

Blank minds

@selfishlittlebeing asked:

Hi! So basically I just read every single one shot on this blog. And I am obsessed with your work. And I gotta admit that, “Wounded nights” did things to me.🧍🏼‍♀️

I’m not sure if I am requesting or smth (if you’d like to write this I wouldn’t protest, but feel free to just ponder on this with me). But like… I can’t get the image of touch starved Five out of my head. Bcs…damn. Him holding the reader in his arms like that (WN)… but can you imagine HIM having a vulnerable moment because of all that stuff with the Commission and apocalypses, just the trauma package yk. And after all those years…just Five being vulnerable with someone and touch starved.🥲 I am making myself feel depressed with all this. Wanna be depressed with me?🎀

Summary: After Luthers wedding, most of the siblings already gone to bed. You didn't feel like drinking, but loved to watch the others drown their sorrows into liquor and just have fun. Just as you were about to fall into a deep sleep, a knock on your door pulls you out of your slumber.

Thank you for your lovely request! Also, here a sexy poster from Five I fell in love with! With every purchase you automatically support me :) https://amzn.to/3yGK6Fm

“Since everything will be dust soon anyway, you won't mind if I just lie down here for a while, will you?”

You're up to your nose under your eiderdown, with only the sound of collapsing buildings coming through your window. It may sound crazy to others, but for you, it's been part of everyday life for a week. Counting every second, spending the last time with your family and savoring it. There is nothing more precious than time. Money has no value anymore, but the ticking hands of the grandfather clock do have.

Your thoughts hover over your head like gray clouds. Since the first day you slept in that hotel bed, falling asleep felt like hell. You tried a lot to finally fall asleep normally again. But every time you closed your eyes, you were met with nightmares, worse than you could ever have imagined. You were sure that this couldn't be the end, it simply couldn't be.

Like every night, you try to push the thoughts aside, to repress them as if they had never been there. But a loud and uneven knocking jolts you out of your sleep like a thunderstorm. You startle awake and clutch at the sheets of your bed. “Yes!” you shout, but it sounded more like a question than an encouragement. You watch every movement, sharper than Diego's blades. As Five stumbles in, you let out a breath you didn't even released you were holding.

“You scared me,” you mumble. "I scared you, so please, why should anyone be scared of me?" he says to himself. Any blind person would have recognized that Five had probably had a little too much to drink at Luther's wedding. Five doesn't finish the sentence and drops his head down as he continues to mumble to himself. After he fell back against the door, you gave him a worried look. “Thanks for closing the door, but I think you have a concussion now,” I smirk to myself. Five starts to giggle. “The world is coming to an end,” he says, and pushes away from the door again.

You look out of the window that separated you from the crumbling outside world. Instead of bright sunshine, dark red fire dazzles your eyes, bricks fly off buildings and trees uproot themselves. “No, really?” you ask him sarcastically as you turn back to him. You suppress your horror as he suddenly stands right in front of you. He holds on to the edge of your bed. You think about how he managed to approach you so quietly, the alcohol in his blood must be enough to put a chimpanzee down.

“Since everything will be dust soon anyway, you won't mind if I just lie down here for a while, will you?” he asks as he tries to climb onto the bed. “Five, eh?” you ask as you hold him down so he doesn't slide off. He awkwardly pushes himself over your legs, which elicits a small squeak from your mouth. “You're really rough, Five,” you complain, but you just couldn't help the smile on your face.

You had never seen Five so shameless. Five, who is usually so strong and independent, asks you if he can lie down with you for a moment. As you think about it for a moment, you briefly doubt your sanity. Was this a fever dream? But Five's careless hand movement presses your torso so hard into the mattress beneath you that you're sure it would have shaken you awake. “I've never seen you so awkward,” you squeeze your words out of the pain. “I'm sorry, but your bed is sooo soft,” he lulls to himself. You shake your head and stifle the comment that the beds here were all the same.

“Five, why are you really here?” you ask him. He lies down on his stomach and presses his head into your pillow. He mumbles his words into the fabric so that you can only guess what he's saying. “I don't understand a word, you stupid…” you grumble to yourself as you grab a tuft of his hair and push his head to the side.

Five groans softly as you move his head, his eyes half-lidded and unfocused. You wait for him to speak, but it seems like he’s struggling to find the right words. He’s always been the one with the sharp tongue, the quick wit, and seeing him like this—vulnerable and slightly lost—pulls at something deep inside you.

“I didn’t want to be alone,” he finally mutters, his voice slurred but honest. “I’ve been alone for so long... and I guess I’m tired of it.” His words are a confession, raw and unguarded, much like the state he's in now. You’ve seen Five in many situations—fighting, strategizing, leading—but this is different. This is Five without his armor, without the walls he usually keeps so firmly in place.

You feel a pang in your chest, a mix of sadness and empathy. You’ve always known there was more to him than the ruthless time-traveling assassin he often portrayed himself to be. But hearing him admit his loneliness is something else entirely. "I understand you, Five," you say. He smiles and sightly closes his eyes. "I didn't want to be alone too, so I am happy that you are here now, I would've preferred sober Five, but this is also ok", you smile at him.

You let your body fall back into your pillows, Five, who was still lying on his stomach, watching you. You put your head to one side and just look at him motionlessly. “Promise you won't tell anyone about the following?” he asks you. You don't understand exactly what he means. “I hardly think I have enough time left to tell anyone anything,” you say, with an unintentional sweep of sadness. “Promise” he whispers to you, while looking at you with begging eyes. Not only the pungent smell of alcohol, but also his seriousness to fly in your face. “I won't tell anyone,” you promise. Without warning, Five starts to move again. He pushed your arm up and curled up on your chest, like a cat looking for warmth.

Seeing five like this was new and made you very afraid to admit it to yourself. He cared so much about maintaining his strong, unbreakable personality that his current behavior frightened you. Despite the unfamiliar feeling of five so close to you, you almost automatically put your arms around his slender torso. His fingers slide onto the sides of your torso, clutching on it as if it was a matter of life or death.

"Five, what's wrong?", you ask him. "I am fucking scared", he lulls. His confession hangs in the air, heavy with the weight of his vulnerability. You can feel your heart rate quicken, the tension in the room shifting as you process his words. It’s a rare glimpse into the inner workings of Five’s mind, and the openness is both unsettling and intimate.

“Scared of what exactly?” you ask gently. “Everything,” he replies, his voice barely above a whisper. “The end of it all… the not knowing". The tremor in his voice sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but tighten your hold on him. You want to reassure him, to tell him that everything will be okay, but the truth is you’re scared too. The world outside is crumbling, and the future feels uncertain for both of you.

He shifts slightly, looking up at you with his tired eyes. “I don’t want to let anyone down. Not you, not the others. I’ve messed up so many times already.” His voice is tinged with a mix of regret and fear, and you can see the conflict waging within him. “If we lose, at least we'll lose together,” you say. It didn't really sound encouraging, but you couldn't think of anything better. “Do you think you'll regret this tomorrow?” you whisper without looking at him.

Five’s grip on your chest tightens just a little, and you can feel the slight shivering in his body as he processes your words. The silence that follows feels heavy, filled with the weight of the world outside and the vulnerability between you. “No,” he finally murmurs, his voice soft but resolute. “I won’t regret this. I might not remember every detail of tonight, but I’ll remember the way it felt to finally....", you wait for him to end his sentence.

"feel you", he says, so quietly that you almost missed it.. There is a silence in the room, your body is no longer able to move. Your brain needs some time to process his words. “I went too far, I'm sorry I…” he tries to apologize. He pushes away from your body and leans on his arms. But before he can finish his sentence and move away from you completely, you put your hands around his face and crash your lips into his.

The moment your lips meet Five’s, time seems to suspend itself. The world outside, with its crumbling chaos, fades into the background, leaving just the two of you in this small, intimate bubble. His initial shock quickly melts away, and he responds with a tentative but heartfelt kiss. His lips are soft and warm, and the urgency in his movements gradually transforms into something more tender and searching.

As you pull away slightly, you can see the surprise in his eyes, mingled with a hint of relief and something deeper that he might not fully understand himself. You’re both breathing heavily, the gravity of the moment settling in. “I didn’t want to...,” Five starts to say, but you place a finger gently over his lips, silencing him. “Don’t,” you whisper, your voice barely more than a breath.

“You don’t have to apologize. Not now. Not ever.” Five’s expression softens, and he looks at you with a mixture of awe and vulnerability. “I’ve been so caught up in trying to control everything, in fighting against the end, that I forgot about what really matters. I didn’t realize... I didn’t realize how much I needed this, how much I needed you.”

Feel free to tell me in the comments, what you think :)

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hollowtakami · 6 months

Note

HEYOOO

so I read your keigo fics and I really loved them! What do you think about Keigo waking up from a nightmare and he can't find you, so he starts to panic, and when you come back from the toilet (or wherever you were), he immediately latches onto you panicking and crying

Man he is so sweet

hi anon! ^_^ tysm for your ask, it rlly made me smile hehe. here’s a small drabble as thanks:)

(apologies if its rusty, the only thing i have written as of late is uni essays-)

keigo gasped for air as though he’d been reborn, feathers pricked out like needles.

he clutched at his shirt like a vice, daring to tear through his skin and stress grip his dying heart. he panted, delirious amidst his fear.

the suns of his eyes bounced across every corner of the room, his free hand scratching away the duvet in search of you. nothing, not even his feathers could sense you, clouded by fright.

what the avian didn’t know was that you hadn’t left him like his father, you’d only gotten to get a glass of water after the drought in your throat had woken you up, not nearly as violently as the way your boyfriend’s body treated him.

what you didn’t know was that your boyfriend was unfurling faster than the might of his wings ever could.

pattering through the hallway of your apartment with a glass and a plenished throat, you gently broke your way into your shared bedroom with a tired hand.

your eyes retreated behind their lids at the light you swore you hadn’t put on, lest you disturb keigo in his sleep.

no, an instinctual feather did so.

you stop, feet planting into the carpet as your brain tries to process the scene in front of you, whirring through its fatigue.

there was keigo, plumage fluffed up in fear, eyes wild and pinned on you, your bedsheets in tatters.

“kei?” words clawed up your throat as you slowly made your way to the bedside table and placed the glass. keigo grabbed your wrist the moment you’d set it down, you managed to get a better look at him.

sunny bedhead and a dark sky lining his eyes, his chest heaved along with the heavy burdens that laced his blood, what was his own that didn’t stain his hands.

no matter how much he scrubbed his skin, keigo would never be clean. it had trickled into his brain, and he couldn’t even escape it in his sleep.

“stay,“ he silently barked, his words scratchy.

keigo’s stress grip on your wrist wouldn’t let up, the avian latched onto you for dear life.

your face fell, eyebrows furrowed as you saw his glassy eyes, glossed over with fear.

“bad dream, baby?” you whispered, slowly raising your wrist to run a hand through keigo’s hair, massaging his scalp with gentle nails.

keigo only choked on a sob, his vulnerabilities racing down his cheeks to their end. if only this would end, he begged to a god he wasn’t sure existed.

you brought your wrist down, eyes trained on the dots of his.

“‘m not going anywhere, baby boy,” you soothed, gentle reassurance hanging in the air until keigo was ready to pluck it down and hold it close to him.

he tried to not, more words contesting in his throat.

keigo looked down at himself, feathers shaking more than his tired body.

“bad..” he gestured to himself.

“you aren’t him, birdie,” your words were soft, sun against his skin. his heart swelled amidst the silent rage of his head.

soon, you felt keigo’s grip starting to soften too.

you grabbed the glass of water with a free hand, using the other to usher strands of gold out of his eyes, tucking them behind his ear as you helped him sip some water.

kissing his forehead, you cooed, “that’s my boy,”

keigo chirped, too frightened to speak. he would only chirp or coo when this regressed into his fear, not that you minded. you knew that his bird qualities were something he was forced to bury, much like other innocents.

but, there wasn’t any blood on keigo’s hands.

the only thing in his hands was the silk of your skin, fingers intertwined as you spoke to him with the song of your voice, an angel he would tell himself he didn’t deserve.

your wings were pure, his stained red. he was born like this, conceived by a monster of a man. so, that must mean that he was born the same.

it took an angel like you to help him realise he had never fallen, it was someone else who had clipped his wings.

#<3 #tysm for the ask!!#i had a lot of fun with this one #finally writing after over a fortnight or so #back to uni work i go-#keigo takami x reader #keigo takami fluff #mha comfort #mha x gender neutral reader #my hero academia hawks #hawks my hero academia #hawks x gn reader #reverse comfort #keigo takami #boku no hero academia #mha hawks #takami keigo #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n

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cowboybeepboop · 15 days

Text

Rough

Pairing: Logan “Wolverine” Howlett x fem! Reader

Genre: Smut

Word count: 5.1k

Summary: You’re Scott’s younger sister, you meet Logan when the x-men rescue him and Rogue from Magneto.

Warnings: Choking, overstimulation, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex, p in v.

a/n: Idk but there's gonna be a part two where you’re both walking the hall and your brother notices the marks on Logan’s back and your dazed/flushed face. I hope you enjoy and if you have any requests feel free to send them my way <3

As you carefully adjust the IV line attached to the unconscious man's arm, you feel a sudden jolt of panic as his eyes snap open. In a flash, his hand shot out and wrapped around your neck, squeezing with surprising strength.

The room spun as your vision blurred, the grip of the stranger tightening with every struggling breath you took. Gasping for air, you try to push him away, but his other hand shoots out, pushing you against the wall.

His eyes, a piercing shade of blue, bore into you, filled with a primal fear and confusion that mirrored your own. The X-Men had brought him here after rescuing him and Rogue from Magneto's clutches, but clearly, he didn't know that yet.

“Please,” you gasp as you struggle in his grasp. “Let go, please.”

Logan's eyes roam over your face, taking in your features, your expression, the way you struggle against him. His heart seems to stutter in his chest, his mouth going dry as he notices your flushed face, your furrowed brows, how vulnerable you look in his grasp.

But despite these reactions, he doesn't waver, his grip on your neck only tightens, the primal instinct to defend himself overriding any other thoughts he might have. “Who the hell are you….” He said with a deep rough voice as he keeps a firm grip on you.

Your eyes begin to glaze over as you reach for his hand, fingers lacing around his wrist in a desperate attempt to free yourself. “Please,” you let out a strangled moan at the pressure, a mixture of feelings clouding your mind.

"I'm.. I'm just trying to help," you manage to gasp out, "I don't want to hurt you, please, just let go.." As you press a hand gently against his chest, Logan's eyes flutter closed at the touch. It's a stark contrast to the feral aggression he had been displaying just moments ago.

He takes a deep, shuddering breath. It's as if the touch of your hand against his chest snaps him back to reality. He suddenly notices how hard he's been squeezing your neck, the panic in your voice, the fear in your eyes.

You gasp shakily, head falling to his shoulder as you try to catch your breath. Your hand falls from his wrist, fingertips trailing down his arm. Your head falling on his shoulder and your hand trailing down his arm makes him shiver slightly. He releases his grip on your neck, his hand coming up to gently cup the back of your head.

He can feel your panicked breaths against his chest, the way you're trying to steady yourself. "I'm sorry," he gruffly whispers, his voice rough with guilt.

You back away from him quietly, your back hitting the door frame as you try to sneak out of the room. Logan's eyes narrow, his senses immediately picking up on your movement. Without warning, he catches your wrist, pulling you back toward him.

He cages you in against the door frame, his body pressed against yours, preventing your escape. "Where do you think you're going, darlin'?"

Your lip quivers as you gaze up at him, unable to form a sentence as he towers over you. Logan's eyes narrow as he notices the fear in your expression. He takes a step closer, his muscular form still keeping you pinned between him and the door frame.

He's close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him. He reaches up, gently running a finger along the bruise on your neck, his touch surprisingly gentle. "I'm sorry..." he mutters softly.

Your head leans back in response to his touch, your body relaxing at his apology, a soft noise escaping your parted lips as he runs his finger over the mark. Hearing the soft noise that escapes your lips, Logan's body tenses momentarily. His eyes flutter over your form for a moment, taking in your reaction to his touch.

His fingers continue to gently brush against the mark he left on your neck, his touch surprisingly gentle for a man with such power at his fingertips. "Did I hurt you?" he asks gruffly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Only a little,” you whisper a soft lie, chest rising and falling rapidly at his proximity, his strong touch sending shivers down your spine. Logan's eyes narrow at your response, clearly hearing the lie in your voice. He leans closer, his face only a few inches away from yours. His breath brushes against your cheek as he speaks in a low growl.

"I can smell it when you lie," he says, his eyes locked on yours. His hand moves from your neck to your chin, tilting your head up slightly so that you are forced to maintain eye contact.

Your eyes widen in confusion. “Smell it?” you question him, your fingers wrapping around his wrist lightly. A sly smirk appears on Logan's face as he notices the confusion in your eyes. He takes another step closer, his body now flush against yours, pinning you against the door frame.

His other hand comes up to rest against the frame next to your head, his muscular arms caging you in. He leans forward ever so slightly, his lips hovering near your ear as he speaks in a low growl. "I have heightened senses, darlin'. I can smell your fear, your excitement...everything," he explains huskily.

You bite down on your lip, suppressing a quiet moan as his body presses into you. “Everything?” your voice is a soft whisper as his hand trails down from your neck, brushing over your collarbone. Desire coursing through you at his warm and gentle touch.

Logan's smirk deepens as he hears the faint moan you try to suppress, his keen senses picking up on every little sound you make. His hand continues to trail down your body, tracing a path along your collarbone and down to your hip.

"Everything." he confirms in a low growl. "I can smell your skin, your hair, the way your heart is racing in your chest." He presses his lips against your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he continues. "I can smell your arousal, darlin'...."

Your head falls back against the wall as a strangled gasp escapes your mouth. Hands pressing into his abdomen as you try to add a slight distance between you.

Logan lets out a low chuckle as he feels your hands attempting to push him away, but he doesn't budge. Instead, he leans into you even more, his hips pressing against yours.

"Trying to keep me at bay, darlin'?" he husks, his lips hovering over the shell of your ear. His hand on your hip moves lower, his fingers tracing light circles on the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

"But I can smell how much you're enjoying this...." He murmurs, his voice low and roughen "And you can't hide it from me..."

“Logan..” you practically moan his name, heat building in your stomach as his fingers explore your body. Hearing his name fall from your lips in a moan makes a primal possessiveness grow within him. He can feel your body responding to his touch, the heat building in your stomach, the desire.

He leans his head down, his lips brushing against the sensitive flesh of your neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses as he continues to speak. "You sound pretty when you say my name like that," he growls against your skin.

His lips brush over your bruised skin, his kisses feeling like a warm apology. “We..” you begin, voice shaky and full of desperation. “We shouldn’t..” you gasp out, biting back a moan.

Logan's lips pause for a moment against your skin, his tongue darting out to taste the saltiness. He can smell the heat coming off you, the desperation in your voice, and the conflicting emotions that are swirling within you.

He pulls away slightly, his lips moving to the edge of the bruise he left on your neck. "We shouldn't?" he repeats, his breath hot against your ear. He nips at your earlobe before continuing. "Why not, darlin'?"

Your fingers brush over his bare abs, eyes squeezing shut. “Not here..,” you murmur, “Somewhere more private..” Logan's breath hitches as he feels your fingers against his bare skin, his muscles tensing under your touch. A primal possessiveness floods his senses, the need to claim you, to have you all to himself.

He leans his head back, his eyes dark with hunger as he looks at you. "Somewhere more private, huh?" he growls in a low, rough voice. "Somewhere where I can have you all to myself..."

You nod, peeking one eye open to look at his lust filled gaze. Logan can practically taste your desire on his tongue, the smell of your arousal filling his senses. He leans farther into you, his body pressing firmly against yours, his muscles tensing as he tries to keep his own desires in check.

"Then let's go, darlin'. Somewhere we can be alone," he growls, his hand gripping your hip possessively as he begins to lead you out of the room. You pull him in the direction of your room, his fingers pressing into your hip more roughly as you step inside.

As soon as you step into your room, the door closing behind you, the scent of your perfume and the unique scent that is distinctly yours hits Logan's senses like a freight train. He takes a deep breath, his nostrils flaring as he inhales the scent, his eyes darkening even more.

He locks the door behind him, his instincts flaring at the knowledge that you are alone with him, in your private space. You turn to face him, gulping as you take in his strong muscles, eyes lingering on his growing erection.

Logan watches your gaze roam over his body, his muscles tensing under your scrutiny. He can see the way your eyes linger on his growing erection, the hunger in your expression, and it makes a feral, possessive growl rumble deep in his chest.

He closes the distance between you in a few strides, his body pressing against yours as he pins you against the wall once more. His hands come up to rest on either side of your head, caging you in.

"Like what you see, darlin'?" he growls, his voice low and hoarse. You respond with a hungry kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck.

Logan lets out a low growl as you kiss him, his body responding immediately to your touch. He deepens the kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, tasting you, claiming you.

His hands move to your hips, gripping them forcefully as he presses you against the wall, his erection pressing against you. He breaks the kiss to murmur against your skin, his breath hot against your ear.

"You taste so good, darlin'..." you moan, hands going to his pants as you pull his hips against yours.

Logan's chest rumbles with a deep growl as you pull his hips against yours, his erection rubbing against your core, the thin fabric of both of your clothes the only thing separating you.

His hands grip your hips roughly, his fingers digging into your skin. "You're driving me crazy, darlin'," he groans, his voice low and rough with desire. "I want to touch you...everywhere."

“Then touch me,” you bite down on your lip, gazing up at him with eyes dark with desire.

Logan's eyes darken at your words, a feral, primal hunger taking over at the sight of your lustful gaze. He leans down to capture your lips in a fierce kiss, his hands moving over your body, roaming and exploring every inch of you.

His hands slide up your sides, bunching up your clothes as they go. He breaks the kiss to pull the fabric over your head, tossing it to the side, his eyes raking over your naked form.

You subconsciously cover your body with your hands, hiding your bare skin from his piercing stare. Logan notices the way you instinctively try to hide your body from him, a deep frown appearing on his face. He moves a step closer, his hand gently taking hold of your wrists, gently but firmly moving them away from your body.

His eyes roam over your naked form, his gaze taking in every curve, every inch of skin, his own desire making him ache.

"Don't hide from me, darlin'," he growls, his voice a rough whisper. "You're beautiful, and I want to see you." you throw your head back on the wall as he cups one of your breasts, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

A needy moan leaves your swollen lips, your legs spreading as he presses his knee between them. He presses his knee against your clit, the rough fabric of his pants providing just enough friction to make you gasp.

The pressure builds as he rhythmically rubs into your sensitive point, his fingers continuing to toy with your hardened nipple. Your body arches into his touch, a silent plea for more, as his lips trace a path down your neck to your chest. His tongue darts out, tasting the salty sweetness of your skin, his teeth grazing over your collarbone, making you quiver.

The combination of pain and pleasure sends a jolt through your core, making you wetter, more desperate for his touch. His breathing is ragged, his control slipping as he feels your heat through his pants, your body begging for his attention.

As your hips buck against his knee, your hands fight against his grip, desperate to explore the hardened planes of his body. The wetness between your legs has soaked the fabric of his pants, leaving a dark stain that he can feel growing. Logan’s eyes flash with a fierce hunger as he feels the evidence of your arousal against him.

His grip tightens on your wrists, keeping your hands pinned above your head, as he continues to tease your nipple with his free hand. His mouth moves lower, kissing and biting down your stomach, heading towards the apex of your thighs. The anticipation is agonizing as he nears your soaked panties, his hot breath ghosting over the damp fabric.

"Please," you whimper, your body quivering with need. Logan chuckles darkly against your skin, his eyes never leaving yours as he finally gives in to your silent pleas. He drops to his knees, the sound of your gasp filling the room.

His tongue darts out, tasting you, making you moan out loud as he begins to explore your most sensitive areas with a fervent passion that steals your breath away. His hand still holds yours above your head, his other guiding your hips, urging you to grind against his face, to give him all the sweetness you have to offer.

Your legs wobble as you try to stay upright, your orgasm building with every stroke of his tongue, your need for him becoming unbearable.

With a fierce determination, Logan positions himself under your hips, releasing your wrists and replacing his grip with one that digs into your hip bones. His lips are ravenous as they devour the sweetness of your sex, his tongue flicking and swirling with a skill that sends waves of pleasure crashing through you.

You moan loudly, your body instinctively grinding against his mouth as he teases and tastes you with an intensity that makes your legs tremble. Your nails dig into his broad shoulders for support as you try to keep yourself upright, the sensations threatening to overwhelm you.

The room fills with the sounds of your desperate cries and his hungry growls, each stroke of his tongue pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy. You can feel his breath, hot and ragged, against your sweaty skin, the vibrations of his voice echoing through your core as he murmurs his enjoyment.

The world outside the room fades away, leaving only the two of you and the undeniable passion that burns between you, the intensity of his mouth on your most sensitive spot making you feel as if you could shatter at any moment.

With a cry of pure ecstasy, you cum into his mouth, your body trembling violently as the most intense orgasm of your life takes over. Logan groans with satisfaction as he hungrily laps up your sweet release, his tongue never leaving your sensitive clit as he continues to pleasure you through the aftershocks.

His grip on your hips tightens, keeping you in place as he drinks from your well, savoring every drop of your pleasure. You're a mess of sensations, your legs shaking and your chest heaving with each ragged breath.

The room spins around you as the orgasm subsides, leaving you a trembling mess against the wall, clinging to Logan's shoulders for support. His eyes, filled with a feral hunger, meet yours as he pulls away, a smug smirk playing on his lips as he stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

With surprising gentleness, Logan pulls you to the bed, his eyes never leaving yours as he lays you down. You're still reeling from the intensity of your orgasm, your body feeling both sated and desperate for more. He asks, "Can you handle another round, darlin'?" His voice is deep and gruff, the hunger in his eyes undeniable.

You nod, your body already responding to the promise in his words. He kisses down your body, his teeth nipping at your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. When he reaches your thighs, he spreads them wide, his strong hands holding you open as if you were a delicate treasure he's about to claim.

His mouth finds your core again, his tongue sweeping over your folds, teasing and tasting you with a newfound enthusiasm. His kisses are feverish, his breath hot and demanding as he worships your body, his hands moving to grip your hips, keeping you in place for his pleasure.

Your legs wrap around his shoulders, urging him closer, as he dives back into the sweet oblivion of your desire. The sensation of his mouth on you is exquisite, sending waves of pleasure that make you arch off the bed.

His touch is both gentle and commanding, a perfect blend of rough and tender that sets your body alight with need. As he kisses and sucks, his thumb circles your clit, the dual sensations pushing you towards another shattering climax.

You can feel your muscles tightening around his tongue, the tension building with every touch, every flick of his skilled tongue. You moan his name, your eyes fluttering shut as you let yourself get lost in the feeling, your body aching for more of him, all of him.

Logan's growl of satisfaction vibrates through you, the sound of his hunger for you echoing through the room, driving you closer and closer to the edge of oblivion.

With a sudden jolt of overwhelming pleasure, you try to pull away, the sensations too intense for you to handle, but Logan's grip on your hips is unyielding. His mouth remains locked onto your core, his tongue working tirelessly, as if he can't get enough of your sweetness.

"Too much," you gasp, your body quivering uncontrollably under his relentless ministrations. He looks up at you, his eyes dark and filled with a primal need, and you see the hunger in his gaze, the animalistic desire to claim you completely.

He doesn't stop, though, instead his movements become more urgent, his tongue more insistent, as if he's trying to consume every part of you. You beg for mercy, but the only response you get is a deep, rumbling growl from his chest, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin as he continues to feast on you.

Your body arches off the bed, your legs tightening around his neck as the orgasm builds, a crescendo of pleasure that seems to have no end in sight. Logan's touch is like fire, burning through any shred of resistance you might have had, leaving you a trembling mess beneath him, desperate for release.

His name falls from your lips in a breathless chant, a plea for him to either stop or take you over the edge, but he shows no signs of relenting. You're lost in a sea of sensation, your mind hazy with need, as he continues to devour you, pushing you closer and closer to the brink of madness with every stroke of his tongue.

With a loud, desperate cry, your body shatters into a thousand pieces as you cum again, the intensity of the orgasm stealing the last of your breath. Logan's mouth remains sealed over your sex, his tongue continuing to swirl and flick with unrelenting fervor, drawing out every last bit of pleasure from your quivering form.

Your hips pull away from his face, but his strong hands keep you anchored, refusing to let you escape the heavenly torment he's bestowed upon you. As the waves of ecstasy begin to subside, his kisses become softer, more tender, his tongue lapping up the last drops of your climax.

He kisses a path up your stomach, your chest, and finally captures your mouth in a deep, claiming kiss, sharing the taste of your pleasure with you. Your legs fall apart, your body boneless and sated, as he rises over you, his eyes still alight with hunger and desire.

His erection strains against his pants, a silent testament to his own need, and you know, without a doubt, that this is only the beginning of a night that will leave you both bruised, exhausted, and utterly satisfied.

With a growl of pure need, Logan slides down his pants, his rock-hard erection springing free, the tip pressing into your trembling thigh as he shifts his attention to your breasts. His kisses become more urgent, his teeth grazing over your sensitive skin as he captures one nipple in his mouth, sucking and teasing it into a taut peak.

You arch your back, a low moan escaping your lips as he switches to the other breast, his tongue swirling around the areola before his teeth catch the sensitive bud again. The sensation sends a bolt of pleasure straight to your core, making you wetter and more desperate for him.

His hands roam over your body, one cupping the fullness of your breast, his thumb flicking the nipple in time with his mouth, while the other slides down to stroke your clit, making your hips buck in response. The feeling of his tongue on your skin, his teeth tugging at your nipple, and his finger inside you is almost too much to bear, a symphony of pleasure that has you panting and writhing beneath him.

Your hands reach out to grip his shoulders, urging him closer, needing more of his touch, more of his warmth. His eyes never leave yours, the hunger in them only growing as he watches the effect he has on you, his own desire reflected in the dark depths of his gaze.

Logan's eyes never leave yours as he positions himself at your entrance, his breaths coming in harsh pants. The head of his erection nudges against your swollen clit, sending an electric jolt through your body. You gasp, your legs tightening around his waist as he presses his tip into your wetness, inch by torturous inch, stretching and filling you.

The sensation is intense, your clit still pulsing from the recent orgasm, making every movement feel amplified. His hips rock gently, his shaft sliding deeper until he's fully sheathed within you. You whimper at the fullness, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure.

His hands move to the back of your thighs, lifting you slightly, changing the angle and causing his cock to hit that spot inside you that makes your toes curl. "Oh, Logan," you moan, your voice a desperate plea for more as he starts to move, his hips sliding in a steady rhythm that matches the beating of your heart.

His movements are slow and deliberate, drawing out every sensation, making you feel as if you're going to combust from the inside out. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with your moans and his growls of pleasure. His thrusts become more powerful, each one sending waves of pleasure crashing over you, your body desperately trying to keep up with the intensity.

You cling to him, your nails digging into his back as he fucks you with a primal need that leaves you gasping for breath, your body a taut bow of desire. His eyes never leave your face, the connection between you palpable, a silent promise of more pleasure to come.

With a fierce snarl, Logan's hips press into yours, driving his entire length deep inside you with a power that steals the breath from your lungs. He pulls almost all the way out, the drag of his shaft against your sensitive walls making you cry out, before slamming back in, filling you completely.

His rhythm is punishing, each thrust a declaration of his desire, a promise of the climax that looms closer with every movement. Your body responds in kind, your hips rising to meet his, the friction building a delicious ache that centers in your core.

Each pound of his hips into yours feels like a brand, marking you as his, and you revel in the feeling of belonging, the intensity of his possession. The pressure builds, your muscles tightening around him, desperately clinging to the feeling of fullness as you edge closer to the precipice of ecstasy.

His grip on your thighs tightens, his strokes growing more forceful, the slap of his hips against yours a punctuation to the symphony of pleasure that surrounds you. Your nails dig into his back, leaving marks of your own, a silent testament to the power of your shared desire.

The world outside this room fades away, leaving only the two of you and the fierce, unbridled passion that consumes you both, as you climb higher and higher, racing towards the peak of pleasure that promises to shatter you completely.

As you both near the edge of release, Logan's movements become more erratic, his muscles tensing and releasing with each powerful thrust. His eyes blaze with a fiery passion that's mirrored in your own gaze, your bodies moving in perfect sync.

The room is filled with the sound of your mingled moans and the rhythmic slap of skin on skin, a testament to the raw, unbridled desire that fuels your every movement. His grip on your thighs tightens, his breath hot and ragged against your neck as he whispers, "Come for me, darlin'."

The words send a shiver down your spine, your body responding to the command in his voice. You can feel your orgasm building, the tension coiling tightly in your stomach, threatening to explode at any moment. Logan's strokes become more demanding, his hips moving faster and harder, pushing you closer and closer to the brink. You cling to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as the pleasure builds to an unbearable crescendo.

With a final, guttural growl, he slams into you, hitting that perfect spot deep within, and you detonate around him, your body convulsing in waves of ecstasy. His own orgasm follows, his cock pulsing deep inside you as he releases a roar of pure satisfaction, his body shuddering with the force of his climax.

Together, you ride out the storm of pleasure, your hearts hammering in time with each other's, your bodies entwined in a passionate embrace that leaves you both trembling and gasping for air. And in that moment, there's no doubt in your mind that you belong to him, just as much as he belongs to you, bound by a connection that transcends logic and reason, a bond forged in the heat of desire and the depths of your shared need.

As the intensity of your shared climax begins to ebb, your nails drag into his shoulders, leaving behind red marks that stand out against his tanned skin. Logan groans with satisfaction, his body still quivering with the aftershocks of his release. He pulls out of you with a final, lingering stroke, his cock still hard and glistening with your arousal.

He collapses against you, his heavy frame pinning you to the bed, nearly crushing you, his hot breath ghosting against your ear as he fights to regain his breath. The room is silent but for the harsh sounds of your mingled panting, your hearts thundering in a symphony of passion that slowly begins to settle into a steady rhythm. His arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, as if he can never get enough of the feel of your skin against his.

He rolls onto his back, pulling you on top of him. His kisses become gentle, peppering your neck and shoulder with affectionate pecks as he whispers, "Mine," his voice a gruff rumble that sends shivers down your spine.

You nod, too exhausted to speak, but the truth of his words resonates deep within you. In this moment, you are irrevocably his, bound by a passion that seems to have no end.

As your breathing slows and your bodies cool, you know that this is just the start of a night filled with pleasure and discovery, a night where the lines between doctor and patient, between friend and lover, will be forever blurred.

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stldigital · 10 months

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reddesires · 29 days

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It Was Everything.

Part 3 of Is It Casual?

Previous Part

Logan Howlett x Mutant Reader

Warning: Angst (with happy ending.)

Fandom: Wolverine/X-Men

A/N: ngl I struggled so bad when writing this like omfg, I'm tweaking with how much I had to push myself to write this Ugh. I think this is the longest I've ever written a fic like, bro. I was so stressed. I hope you guys like it, I tried my hardest 😪

You can feel the frustration building in your chest as you stand outside the Professor’s office, the conversation you had just moments ago echoing in your mind as you sharply bite down on your lip as you try to keep your cool, your eyes narrowed as you briskly walk down the hall.

Whatever is going on with your mind, it’s holding you back and it's becoming more burdensome as you try to reach your former potential, the sharp pains radiating deep from within the recesses of your head.

Your hand clenches and unclenches in agitation, everything seems to have a domino effect all around you, and it all starts with your lack of control over your mutation.

The Professor has been more than encouraging as he walks you through your sessions and he’s scoured through your mind countless times looking for the source of your problem but is cut short as it seems like your mind has built up defenses against outside potential threats, blocking out other telepathy users from reaching the vulnerable parts of your mind.

You’ve poked and prodded in an attempt to get past some sort of breach, but the lightning bolt of pain that passes through you is precise, leaving you defeated and with a bloody nose to prove it. You've expressed your desperation to Storm and she tries her hardest to comfort you with the idea that it’ll take more time for you to make a breakthrough but you’ll get there, and though you appreciate her optimism you have been finding it more and more hard to share the same sentiment.

The others have noticed that you have been walking around with that dark cloud over your head and they have made an effort to take away your attention from it but it always creeps back up slowly but surely.

Logan is especially worried about you and how much it’s been weighing down on you and though he doesn’t say a lot of his worries aloud you can see it through his actions and the way he looks at you. The way he lays his hand gently on your back as he sees you deep in thought and the way his gaze catches yours as he intends to bring your attention on him and him only, he’s become possessive of your attention not accepting the weak smile you throw at him in an attempt of appeasing him.

He always manages to make your breath hitch and catch in your throat as brings himself into your personal space, it’s almost like he's relying on some underlying feeling and he’s allowing his body to act on it and it’s gotten to the point where he’s been open enough to display this in front of the others earning some raised eyebrows which is met by his blank stare.

There are times where you stand toe to toe with him and as he looks down at you with that smug smirk you find yourself mirroring back his expression relishing in the self satisfied feeling that builds up from your stomach. Whenever he was around, it was like a switch went off in your body, and there was an instinctive way your body reacted, like it was as easy as breathing, no effort at all.

If only you felt that way all the time, have that confidence dancing on the tip of your tongue instead of that bitterness, the bitterness that lingers as the remnants of your paramnesia lays locked away from your use, your only allowed to use it in small intervals before the pain becomes too unbearable for you. As you walk with your head down, your nails dig into the tender skin of your palms, you hear your name being called from behind you, and you look back, unclenching your tight fists.

“Oh, hey Jean.” You feign your happy tone as she walks up to you with a small smile. “Hey, you doing okay?” Her tone has that worried edge again, and it does make your smile waver before you sigh decidedly against continuing to fake your way through the unsavory conversation coming your way.

“The Professor still hasn't been able to get past the blockages placed in my mind. He thinks I built it in an attempt to protect myself as a last resort.” Jean nods, a contemplative look on her face, her brows furrowed as the gears turned in her head.

“That would make sense, but does that mean there was someone trying to get into your head?” You can only shrug your shoulders falling back down heavily as you felt just how tumultuous this topic actually is. Was it really an outside source?

All these unanswered questions you have and so little to show for it, you are constantly told to have patience and the answers will come to you soon enough but the fact that those answers are blocked off from you along with your mutation makes you irate.

Jean places her hand on your shoulder, her smile sympathetic as she looks you in the eye seeing the frustration bleeding into your expression and the air is filled with a tension you're unsure of as she considers her next words.

“Maybe..I could take a look?” You raise an eyebrows as you fully comprehend her words, it does raise an interest in you but you're apprehensive as you think of the possibility of your defenses hurting Jean if she tries to get through what the Professor can't get pass himself, you open your mouth to voice your worries but she beats you to it.

“I'll back out if things go awry, I just want to see if I can see anything the Professor can't.”

You weakly smile, nodding. “Okay, but please don't push yourself. I don't want you to get hurt.” She nods quickly as she standing in front of you, you lower your head slightly as she places her fingers on your temples and you know that it wasn't necessary for her to do so but she's more than likely using you as an anchor to reality to pull her back from the complexity of your mind if need be, your sure she'll have to pull back since your fortification is aggressive in nature.

“Take a deep breath and relax.” You do exactly that, you try your hardest to keep all distractions at bay and open your mind up to her to the fullest extent but you know there's only so much you could do before she hits that blockade.

You can feel her fingers twitch on your temples and you're aware of where exactly she is in your head as she looks for any sign of frailty or low security but your mind holds up against her, as she looks through the memories available to her trying to decipher where it all went wrong, she gasps in sudden surprise as your defenses grab hold of her, the pain radiating to her own head in bursts.

“Jean! You need to let go.” You hurriedly say, squeezing your eyes shut as you try to will your mind into not retaliating against Jean. “I'm trying..” Her voice strains as she tries pulling back, her chest heaving in panic, with all the strength you can muster, you take hold of the connection between you two forcefully pushing her out of your head, your sudden action causing you to fall to your knees as you breath heavily, the sweat on your brow now noticeable to you as you panically look back up at Jean.

She's already looking down at you, her breathing slowly returning to normal as her hand is gripping the side of her head. “Are you okay?” You asked worriedly, she nods hastily as she nervously smiles in response as she extends her hand to you, you grab it exasperatedly, feeling the adrenaline rushing out of you just quickly as it came in.

“You nearly gave me a heart attack, Jeanie.” You laugh breathlessly. She shakes her head, mirroring your laugh. “I nearly had one myself. Your mind is on high alert. I felt the pain when it grabbed hold of me.. But it immediately stopped when you broke the connection..”

You sigh as you wipe your brow “Now you know what it's like being in my mind.” Her smile’s incredulous as she places her hand on your shoulder, and you know for a fact that she's shaken just by how strong the security of your psyche truly is. “That's one hell of a mind then.”

○●○●○●○●○●○

As you walk to your room, you're filled with thoughts of what just happened. Going into your head is not only dangerous for you but others too, so what could you possibly do?

If you don't do anything then your mutation will stay dormant, you’ll be left with little to no access to the full scope of your powers and though you know the others will never think lesser of you if that was the case but it's not how you want to go on, whatever happened to you it’s taken a part of your identity and you refuse to give up on that half of you.

The chatter of the buzzing students pulls you from your identity crisis as you look up, smiling and waving back to the students who happily crowd around you, their voices intermingling as they whine and express their want for your classes again.

“Hey hey, you know what's up, I'll be back and teaching all of you soon again.” The statement only seems to pull unanimous whining as they complain of how they are forced to do textbook work instead of the interactive lessons you've been adamant about doing with your students.

“Who’s your sub?” You smile, crossing your arms. Rogue, who has been standing to the side of you, laughs as she crosses her own arms. “Who do you think?” Rogue is a part of the class you teach for the older kids in the school.

Your class is an extracurricular class that helps the students understand their powers with more in-depth understanding and ways to use their mutation for more than what they think is the only option for them.

Gives them more purpose to life and a safe way to explore their powers in a more logical sense. Your class is a fan favorite since you tend to stray away from all the boring textbook assignments and come up with interactive lessons and projects.

“Hmm, why do I have a feeling, Mr. Howlett has been covering for me?” The groans and laughs uproar from the students, and Rogue shakes her head, her smile only growing as she looks at you.

“History is definitely more in his depth, Ms.Anamnesis.” You try to cover your laugh with your hand as the students complain of how boring it's been, but you hold your hands out, quieting your teenage crowd.

“Hey, cut him some slack! I know I'm more your vibe, but just endure just a little longer. Now get to your last period before you're late!” You place your hand on Rogue’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly as you smile at her.

“Don’t let them bully him too much, okay?” She puffs out air in amusement as she waves her hand. “As if they would do it to his face, that old man scowl intimidates everyone.” She giggles before she turns to her last period. “See ya later!”

You smile widely, waving back to her. You’ve always enjoyed Rogue’s company and your proud of how far along she's come since the first day she arrived to the mansion, you’ve always put yourself in a position to welcome the new children who come to the school, always quick to comfort and get to know the child so they could have some sort of connection while getting adjusted to their new environment.

You also treated Logan the way you would with a new student, allowing him the space he needed but always available when needed, you were not afraid of rejection or the hard exterior that protects the vulnerability that lays below that, he was rugged and harsh but your kind and nonchalant behavior got through to him and soon enough he became comfortable and open to your reasoning, you would never tell him outright that your method was a well used tactic, you’d feel he'd take offense despite it working well with him.

Speaking of the devil, he turns the corner with his all too well favorite brand of cigar hanging out of his mouth, the smoke haloing around his head. “You know how the Professor feels about you smoking inside during school hours.” You smirk, tilting your head, his eyes snap in your direction as he takes the cigar out of his mouth.

“Well, it’s a good thing he's not around then.” He smirks in response as he steps in front of you teasingly, blowing the smoke up above your head. Moments like this makes you question whether Logan puts up the brooding front of the others intentionally because he tends to fall into this laid back and smug air whenever your within his sights, your convinced that if he could he would push every button of yours possible just so he could have an excuse to be in your space.

His moodiness is few and far between the two of you as he much prefers your small glares and witty comebacks. “I shouldn't be surprised when it comes to the likes of you.” You roll your eyes as you flick your wrist, the cigar slipping from his fingers and up into the air far from his reach as you take advantage of your telekinesis to smugly stare back at him, his disgruntled grunt a sound so pleasing to your ears.

“Always one to put me in my place, huh princess?” You shrug, twirling your fingers as the cigar in the air imitates the movement. He looks to you with a raised eyebrow. “Who else will if I don't?” He smacks his lips, tilting his head as he heavily places his hand on top of your head causing you to lose focus and the cigar to fall down right into his palm as he puts it out with his closed hand.

“Wouldn't have it any other way, darlin.” He practically purrs in your direction as he leans closer into your space, you just push your open palm against his cheek pushing him away as if you were annoyed but you wouldn't admit that you enjoyed him most when he acted this way, but it does little to deter him as you can feel his amused expression against your hand.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” He pulls back chuckling, as he runs his hand through his hair, the little tufts cause a smile to pull over your lips amusingly. “Anyway, we're training today in the danger room, so get ready.” He's quick to lightly flick your forehead playfully as you groan at the mention of training.

You and Logan aren't paired as often as he would like when it came to hand to hand combat training, it happened very rarely so he's always on top of the schedule for those times and although you did enjoy training with Logan, it could be pretty brutal when it came to the soreness of your bones the day after, it was an upside that Logan looked pretty good in those tight compression shirts you convinced him to start wearing for training.

“Ugh, fine.” Your lackluster response brings a glint to his eye as he ruffles your hair. “Don't be late.” You mockingly mimic him as you sludge your way to your room to get ready, mentally preparing yourself to get thrown around the danger room in the least sexy way possible.

○●○●○●○●○●○●○

You breathe in deeply, stretching your neck side to side loosening you limbs in front of the steel door to the danger room, you know you could do all this inside but you couldn't help but stall knowing that Logan was waiting for you inside, he more than likely knew you were outside anyway due to his enhanced hearing but you really didn't care as you try to calm your beating heart.

This isn't anything new to you but it is without the full scope of your powers at your benefit, it often gives you an upper hand knowing that you have a multitude of options when it came to both of your powers but your basically down to only 1 option with a small interval of time with the other, you'll have to make due.

As you tap the screen opening the door, you see Logan stretching his arm above him, the other hand gripping his right elbow as he tugged in the opposite direction, the movement causing his tight black shirt to ride up giving you an eyeful of his sculpted abdomen and the happy trail leading down into his sweatpants, you quickly look away coughing into your closed fist.

“Glad you finally made it. I thought you were gonna run off again.” His small grin is telling that he knew you were stalling, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes as you threw your towel to the side before cracking your knuckles, relieving the tension in between your fingers.

“Uh-huh, as if that would ever happen.” As you crouch touching your fingers to your toes, he stands cracking his neck, his head flicking to the side, his eyes hooded as he towers over you. “Let's see what you got today, Kid.” You jump up, flicking your finger under his chin as you turn your body away from him as you walk to mats, hyping yourself up.

“Sure thing, ol’ man.” You just know that he's taken slight offense to that as he makes his way to the opposite end to you, the narrow of his eyes and the slight condescending smirk making you feel like your heart may have skipped a beat, he's probably gonna make you eat your words, you don't know if you should be scared or excited.

“We'll see who's old by the end of this.” The two of you position yourself, the tension of the air shifting entirely as you stare the other down. “We'll see.”

The stare down was intense as you observed the other's stance, it was almost like a game of chicken, challenging the other to make the first move but Logan isn't known for his patience as he rushes forward toward you.

You run forward with your hands clenched and when your just within reach of him, you skid to the side completely springing yourself into the air, your hands pushing downwards using your telekinesis to propel your body up and over him as you shift your body around last second kicking him in the back sending him stumbling foward, he's quick to turn grabbing your wrist and swinging your body in the opposite direction.

You crouch, your fingernails digging into the mat to prevent yourself from slamming into the wall behind you. Logan surges forward grabbing you by the waist and allowing his body to fall forward in a attempt of slamming you into the ground but your open palms allow your mutation to stop the momentum as you knee his shoulder, freeing yourself from his tight grip. you twist yourself, lifting your leg up and over his head and onto his opposite shoulder, his head now between your thighs and completely under your mercy as he tries tossing you off.

You slap your hands over his ears, your mind allowing you to emit a high pitched static in his ears causing him to yell out and a feral growl rips from his chest as he manages to toss you off of him, you skid a foot away and before you know it he's on all fours, using his claws to propel him forward towards you and as you try to create distance between the two of you, it's no use as he manages to pin you down.

Your deep breaths intermingle with his as he has you pinned between his body and the training mat and as he gazes down at you, his eyes shift from your eyes and lips, his mouth slightly agape displaying his sharp canines. His smirk finds its way back on his lips as he pushes your hair from your face, his eyebrow raising teasingly.

“Who's old now?” You huff, suddenly raising both your legs pushing into his stomach and kicking him off of you and jumping up, back into position as you motion a ‘come hither’ to him with your fingers. “We're not finished yet, ol’ man.”

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

There it is, the ache and soreness settling in your bones that you've been dreading the day after. You knew that training with Logan was gonna become a competition of who was gonna tap out first, it only ended on a agreed truce since you two refused to give in for hours and others needed the danger room for their own training sessions, the mat was in dire need of replacement from all the claw marks that shredded through it.

As you lay in your bed trying to stretch out the pains in your body, you hold your hand out in front of you, your big mission is just on the horizon and all you have is your telekinetic power to make up for it. Dragging yourself out of bed for the recap meeting with the Professor was excruciating in all ways to be expected.

The grunt and groans only increasing as you heard multiple knocks on your door, one is fast and is intentionally rhythmic and the other loud and with an all familiar annoying edge to it, your door swings open with swiftly as your met with the faces of your beloved friends who love getting on your nerves.

Logan and Ororo smile at your laid out figure sprawled out on the floor, your whines and groans only egging them on to annoy you even more.

“Get her, Logan.” He salutes Ororo as he’s quick to scoop you up on his shoulder, your yells echoing down the hallways as you kick your feet and hit his back. It doesn't faze him at all. “Quiet down, girl.” His hand smacks down hard on your ass, your indignant scream loud as you smack the back of his head in retaliation. “You asshole! Put me down!”

As he strides down to the lower floors, you all pass by Scott, and he’s not even surprised by the commotion as his head turns slowly following after your movements before sighing, shaking his head.

“Logan, can you stop roughhousing her.” Scott follows after while you yell in agreement, kicking your legs. “yeah, you brute!” He chuckles as the hidden door to the elevator opens only, then he puts you down.

“You like it.” You scoff before turning to Ororo with a scowl. “I can’t believe you let him treat me this way.” She pulls your arm stepping into the elevator, a grin on her lips as she innocently lays her head on your shoulder, fluttering her lashes at you. “There’s only so much I can do, sweetness.”

You roll your eyes as you pull Logan by the front of his shirt into the lift. He stumbles in his arm, stretched out, caging you between him and the wall as he grins slyly at you. “Hey.” You're quick to flick your wrist, causing him to be pushed into the side of the elevator. “Move, you dog. Scott, get in." Scott is lowly laughing into his fist, clearing his throat, but the smirk is obvious as day on his face as Logan scowls at him. “Let's hurry up before we're late.”

○●○●○●○●○●○●

The atmosphere is serious as you go over the details of the mission. You're up against the Acolytes, and you are to retrieve their documents for their next plan to exterminate the human race once again. They have resorted to taking in innocent mutant children, manipulating them into thinking that in order to have a safer life, they'll have to take on humans.

Your task in this mission is to defend against the enemy mutants outside the compound along with Logan, Scott, and Colossus while Jean, Storm, and Rogue make way into the compound to get to the documents and rescue the mutant children.

You are to fight until the government can step in and arrest the enemy mutants, or at least until you have the desired results, then can you retreat.

“We are fighting against those who have turned their back on humanity. Be on look out for Magneto,” You can feel the irritation building in your chest, the twitch in your brow grabbing Logan's attention as he’s leaned against the wall next to you, his hip bumping into yours. You nod in acknowledgment, bumping him back.

“Remember we fight as a team, stick together.” Scott's voice is tense with encouragement. He looks around the room, a way of reassuring you all of your purpose to this team. “Let’s suit up.”

Sharp and short, it’s showtime.

○●○●○●○●○●○

It's times like this that wrings your insides with unmeasurable nerves as you approach the designated spot of operations, the black bird within the cover of Storm’s dense clouds.

You worry for the safety of your team and your ability to protect them from the uncertainties that hover over you all, the air thick with unspoken apprehension, the tangibility of the situation heavy on your shoulders.

You outstretch your hands out as you shroud the teams minds with comforting images taking advantage of the easiness of manipulating deja vu, easing the tension by triggering that sense of familiarity.

You felt like you were choking on the on edge atmosphere, so when there’s a unanimous sigh released, you felt your taut shoulders drop with relief.

“Approaching at approximately 0500.” Storm voices as she switches notches on the panel in front of her, you sigh deeply cracking your knuckles releasing the tension from your hands, Logan mimics you from the side of you and as you look at him, he shoots you a reassuring smile.

“Relax, Princess. I got your back.” You smile back, your hand reaching towards him, he’s quick to envelope your hand with his, the hold anchoring the both of you.

“Right back at ya, Wolvie.”

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

Panic struck through you as you watched the chaos ensued around you, the wind blistering your skin from the sudden snow storm Ororo commenced.

You blocked the path that the others took into the compound throwing a huge pine tree in the direction of the enemy mutants, pushing them far back into the battleground where Logan and Scott parlayed their attacks.

Colossus was occupied with Juggernaut as their fight tore down half the forest. As you turned to back up the others, you felt a startling pain take hold of your head gripping your head as you looked at the source, a woman’s hand held out as she attempted to mind control you, her face contorted with strained effort.

Your teeth grinded harshly, you eyes narrowing as you allowed the defenses in your mind to strike her with precise aggression, she screams out in pain, her hands grabbing her head, shaking her head incessantly

You jump up and rush towards her. You towered over her hunched over figure, cupping your hands over her ears and emitting a high-frequency ring into her ears immediately knocking her out. You took off towards Logan and Scott, blocking the flame wall from Pyro with your telekinesis, protecting Scott from getting caged in, you pushed back against him.

“Scott, shoot the headlight!” Scott nods as he laser the headlight over Pyro, causing it to topple over him immediately, ceasing his fire show. You quickly tear off his wrist, contraping tossing it behind you.

“Where’s Logan?” You ask Scott as he looks around in search for the dark haired man, it wasn’t long before the two of you heard his rage filled scream from the crumbling compound, you two ran in that direction.

“You need to look for the others, take them to safety!” You yell to Scott, he quickly nods as he heads in the opposite direction where Jean and Ororo last was, you hoped that they all made it out safely.

Your blood ran cold as you took in the scene before you, Magneto had Logan pinned to the wall, your fingers tingle with the pulse of your power, your breathing heavy as you stalk closer the lights flickering with energy building around you.

Your anger boils over as Magneto sends Logan flying through the walls causing the metal ceiling to pin him down, his lack of movement causing an angry yell to pull from you as you lift all objects around you, the static of your powers sizzling in the air and catching Magneto’s attention.

“Oh Anamnesis, how nice of you to join us,” You toss everything in your path in his direction, your hair standing from the overwhelming power stemming from your body. “I see someone’s been practicing.” He chuckles as he blocks the debris. You clench your teeth as you levitate off the ground, and the compound shakes all around you.

“It’s too bad the same can’t be said for Logan.” All the windows crash in as you throw your hand in his direction. “SHUT UP!” He tries to block but the glass shards slice through his skin, a expression akin to panic crosses his face, you can feel the immense rage building in your body as you continue to power up your mutation and you ignore the growing pain in your head until you feel a snap in your mind.

Everything rushing back to you as the blockades and defenses deteriorate, the memories and the anguish pulling you into the depths blinding you to everything as your scream echos to unbelievable distances, your mind pushing out the deafening sound waves and illusions right before Magneto’s eyes.

He backs away as the walls and roof top of the compound comes crumbling down. He retreats before he can be pulled down with the building.

You hear the Professor’s voice in your mind, pushing past the anger and anguish that you're drowning in. “Come back to us, don't let it control you.”

Your powers slowly falter as you close your eyes allowing the Professor's voice to talk you down, you allow your body to fall to the ground as the tears well up in your eyes before your head snaps up.

“Logan!” You run over to him, lifting the debris off him. He’s still as you try to wake him. “Professor! Logan’s not waking!” You sob, the panic enveloping you as you bring him to your chest.

“Please Lo! Wake up!” You shake him, but it’s no use as you don't even see a flutter of his eyes. “I can't seem to get through to his mind,” the Professor’s voice echoes in your mind, your eyebrows furrow as your teardrops land on Logan's cheek.

“Something seems to be blocking me.” You sob as you bring your forehead down on his, your hand going over his eyes. “I'm so sorry, Logan,” you whimper, undoing all the blockades and delusions from his mind. “It was all my fault. It was me.” You caress his cheek as you cry in silence before the Professor speaks up.

“It's done with, worry, not child,” You squeeze your eyes shut in shame as you hear the acknowledgment in his voice. “He’s gonna be okay.” You can only hope so.

○●○○●○●○●○●○●○

The familiar smell of the antiseptic smell in the infirmary fills your senses as you sit by the table that Logan's laying on, you have refused to move an inch in fear of not being there when he wakes.

The steady beep on the heart monitor doing little to settle your nerves, he's gotten so many head injuries that you worry he may never wake up, you've checked him over a hundred times already, every cut and bruise long since healed by his impressive regeneration.

Jean has been constantly reassuring you that he'll pull through, worriedly looking over to you each time she steps into the lab but she knows better than to try and pull you away from him during a time like this, you and Logan are two of the most hard headed people there ever was to walk this earth when it comes to each other.

You gently caress your fingers over his knuckles, your eyes red and hazy as you think back on everything that you blocked out of your memory, the long nights spent in each other's arms, the warmth of his body on yours, the way he tasted right on the tip of your tongue.

You sigh deeply, you truly are way out of your depth, it was dumb decision after dumb decision, you could've killed yourself and possibly mess with Logan’s mind irreparably, the pain of not being his truly was a big pill to swallow, the love you have for him may have been the death of you otherwise.

Your head snaps up when you hear the groans escaping Logan, his body twitching and his face scrunched with an indiscernible expression. “Logan? Can you hear me, love?” Your only met with a groan before he springs up, the all too familiar ‘snikt’ of his claws reverberating off the infirmary walls, his head turns in a panic before his hazel eyes land on you, his voice breathy and with a relieved edge when he says your name as he jumps off the table enveloping you into his arms.

You wrap your arms around his neck, and his face is buried into the crook of your neck as he lifts you off the floor. “Oh God, Logan. I was so scared.” His grip tightens as he refuses to release you from his hold. “You're all alright?” His voice is muffled as he asks the question, you nod feeling the tears already welling up in your eyes. “Yes, everyone's safe.” He sighs deeply as pulls back to look you in the face, past the relief that everyone is okay, there's the anguish you've been dreading, everything is intact in his mind and you're confronted with the aftermath of your actions.

“Why?” The question comes out choked as he tries to understand your actions, his eyes glassy but stubbornly refuses to shed any tears. “I'm so sorry, I never intended to hurt you.” He pulls away from you as he looks to the door, his body desperate to escape the pain taking hold of him, he feels all the emotions gripping his subconscious as all the memories of you return to their rightful place. “I trusted you, you promised..”

Your hand reaches out, but you drop your hand out of defeat. There is no way of excusing your actions, and you hurt him while trying to protect what was left of your aching heart. “It hurt too much, I just wanted it to stop..” he turns to you, the furrow of his brow making your heart hurt wildly at the thought of him being angry at you, but you deserved his anger, his resentment.

His chest heaves as he looks you over, his mind trying to conjure anything up to help him fully access the situation, to somehow alienate his emotions from you. His hand reaches out towards your face as if he was gonna brush back the strand of hair in front of your eyes before he snaps his hand back and storms out the door, your tears trailing down your face in silent resignation.

○●○●○●○●○●○●○

That night, you laid in your bed as sleep evaded you. You stared up at the ceiling of your room. It was like everything was coming back to you with vengeance, biting at every surface on your body as punishment.

The empty feeling that consumes you is painful and dull at the same time, you try to hold back the tears but they slip out of your eyes with no effort, sticky and hot against your skin as your eyes stare with an empty gaze into the darkness. You would be haunted by this feeling. You would never forgive yourself for the harm that you caused.

You wouldn't forgive yourself for breaking your promise to Logan. Your thoughts stall as you hear a knock at your door. You groggily pull yourself from your bed as you wipe your eyes harshly, the puffiness of your eyes causing you to sigh. You pull your oversized flannel that you stole from Logan down to cover the top of your thighs as you open your bedroom door.

Logan lurches forward, kissing you roughly as he pushes his way into your room. You yelp in surprise, but your eyes flutter close as he pulls your body into his before he pulls back “You fucked up bad but God, I love you.”

He kicks the door closed with his foot as he lifts you up and you immediately wrap your legs around his waist. “I'm so sorry, Logan.” You whisper into his lips as he trails down your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin.

“Apologize by being mine and only mine, doll.” His tone is aggressive with want as your hands run through his dark hair, his dog tags clinking in the otherwise quiet room. “I love you, Logan.” He's quick to kiss you again as he sits on the edge of your bed, his hand gripping the back of your neck.

“I love you too, this whole damn time.” His voice is genuine, and his eyes tell you everything you need to know. This whole time, it wasn't just casual. It was everything.

《 TAGLIST 》

@flower-majesty-anon

@fandomsunited

@plan3t-plut0

@thewiselionessss

@the-queen-of-sorrows

@nerrivm

@aliisa-jones

@solarbxby

@uhnanix

@appetencyfortacos

@abarelyexistentbeing

@scarlett-witchhh

@butchers-girl

@thecraziestcrayon

@onlythehobi

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #deadpool & wolverine #hugh jackman #deadpool 3 #xmen logan #xmen wolverine #x men #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction

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jaebeomsbitch · 8 months

Text

Slow (E.M.)

Summary: Only Eddie can cure the blues that cling to your skin like he’s balm made for your soul.

A/N: will publish the extended version later, just needed to get this out. Not edited!

Warnings: MINORS DNI YOU WILL BE BURNED AT THE STAKE, eating pussy, depression, cursing, making out

You’d been feeling sad for a while, there’s this unexplainable ache in your chest pressing into your ribs until you feel like they’ll almost crack. Eddie sees the way your eyes have dimmed. How could he not? You’d been living together for over a year now but he’s never seen you like this. So quiet, so demure. Yes you were introverted, sometimes having bouts of energy where you won’t shut the fuck up and it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. The way your eyes light up, you hands moving wildly.

So when you lay in your bed sheets quietly, no book in your hand Eddie looks at you with this sadness in his eyes. It’s not pity, it’s concern. His girlfriend so quiet, so meek, not eating. Fuck his heart aches seeing you like this. He crawls into bed softly asking what’s wrong but you don’t have an answer. You don’t know what’s wrong but this black cloud looms over you like your own personal rain cloud.

Eddie makes the ache better, he takes some of the pressure of your chest especially when he pulls you into his arms. His nose in your hair breathing in your shampoo, pale arms holding you tight as he rubs your back. He brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear whispering “you’re so beautiful.”

You can’t help the way you automatically mewl under his big brown eyes, hiding in his neck like a safe haven. He holds you tighter against him, nuzzling into your hair again.

“Don’t hide from me,” he murmurs softly, breath warm against your ear. “I want to see those gorgeous eyes of yours.”

You reluctantly relent, cheeks pink as you slowly look up at your boyfriend. There’s a certain vulnerability in your eyes. He gives you a small smile stroking your cheek with his thumb as he grabs your face.

“It’s okay,” he says softly. “You don’t have to be strong all the time, y’know? I’m here for you no matter what sweetheart.”

“You make me shy when you say stuff like that” you whisper, not trusting you full voice and afraid to break the quietness between you two.

He chuckles softly, the reverberation dancing into your chest straight to your heart. “Then I’ll just have to keep saying it then,” he replies teasingly.

His hands trace gentle patterns on your back, it’s soothing but electric at the same time. Like lightning striking the sea. He leans in close to you, nose ghosting over the bridge of yours as he whispers, “I love you so much, princess.”

“I love you too” you manage to murmur back. It’s like you’re stuck in a trance. Your eyes flicker to his lips and back to his eyes as he closes the gap. Your lips move against each other in a dance full of love and understanding. Tongues gliding against each other as Eddie strokes your cheek.

“You’re so pretty” you whisper as you pull away from his lips. His cheeks flushed, lips half swollen, big brown eyes boring into yours.

He grins preening at the compliment squeezing you just a little tighter. “So are you, baby” he replies. His thumb stroking your cheek tenderly “you take my breath away,” he whispers pressing a soft peck to your lips. You hum softly, feeling the blues cling to your skin like rainwater but Eddie makes everything better.

He notices the faint hint of sadness still swirling in your eyes despite you trying to hide it, his lips curve into a frown. “Are you sure you’re okay, baby?” He asked gently moving to stroke your hair tenderly. “You don’t have to pretend for me, y’know. I’m here for you, whatever you need”

“I just want to be here in your arms” you whisper

He nods understandingly, pulling you closer against his chest as he holds you tight. He plants a series of soft kisses along your temple and down your cheekbone, his lips lingering on your skin as he tries to convey his love and support through his touch.

"I'm right here," he whispers softly, his words echoing the sentiment of his actions. "You're safe with me, always."

You sniffle, small tears droplets falling into his tattooed skin as you nuzzle into his neck. He wipes away your tears gently with his thumbs, his heart aching at the sight of your distress. "Shh, it's okay," he soothes, rocking you back and forth slightly as he holds you close. "Just let it out, princess. I'm here for you."

“I don’t want to be sad anymore” you whisper, your voice broken. You sound so defeated, you feel like a burden on Eddie.

He kisses your forehead tenderly, his own heart heavy with sympathy for your pain. "I know, baby," he murmurs softly. "And we'll get through this together, okay? You're not alone in this."

He continues to hold you close, offering what comfort he can through his presence and touch. After a few moments, he speaks again, his voice gentle and reassuring.

"Why don't we watch that movie you wanted to see earlier?" he suggests. "Maybe it'll help take your mind off things for a while." You nod but make no effort to move out of his arms. You want nothing but your boyfriend’s warmth and affection.You lay on his chest, legs tangled with his. It’s like he naturally radiates this sense of comfort as he puts on whatever random movie he found.

He feels your body relax in his as you sink further into his embrace. His heartbeat pounding underneath your ear providing a sort of lullaby, lulling you into a peaceful state. He plays with your hair aimlessly just wanting to remind you that he’s right there with you.

“I wish I could sink into you” you whisper unsure if that sounds creepy or not. He smiles down at you, his expression full of love and tenderness. "Me too, baby," he whispers softly, planting a gentle kiss on top of your head. "I never want to let you go."

You trace patterns onto his chest as Eddie pulls the duvet over the two of you knowing how cold you get. The two of you sit like this for a long while until you finally whisper “you make everything better.” You shift your face so you can look at him wanting him to know just how much you appreciate him, that you don’t take him for granted.

He meets your gaze, his own eyes filled with love and something else. "I hope so," he replies softly, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face tenderly. "Because you mean everything to me, princess."

You lay your head on his chest, your eyelashes fluttering against his T-shirt with every blink. “Baby” you whisper.

“What’s wrong?” He asks softly

“I… I wanna feel connected to you” you whisper, cheeks flushing pink.

He feels a wave of tenderness wash over him at your admission, and he leans down to place a gentle kiss on your head. "We already are, princess," he murmurs softly, his voice thick with emotion. "But if you need something more...well, I'm yours for the taking,” he says with a grin on his lips.

“Please” you whisper.

“S’all I want” you murmur pressing a kiss to the underneath of his jaw. His fingers find your face, thumb slotting under your jaw to bring your lips to his. Your lips move against each other as you shift to make the angle less awkward. Humming softly as the warmth of his kiss spreads through your chest.

His arms wrap around your back as he licks at the seam of your mouth. It’s been a while since the two of you had just made out. He presses his weight on his right side making sure to hold you close as he gently lays you on your back successfully flipping your position.

You pull back panting faintly, Eddie swirls around you. His touch, taste, scent, clouding your vision as he crowds you, the soft sounds of his labored breath singing in your ears as he leans down to press wet open mouthed kisses to your neck. You croon pressing your head into the pillow to bare your neck to his mouth. Your fingers brush through the soft curls on his head, mussing the tight ringlets.

“I love you baby” he whispers, husky voice and all like Smokey whiskey injecting straight into your veins.

“Love you too” you say breathlessly as your head spins in a flurry of tenderness.

His fingers trace over your clothes, “can I take these off sweetheart?” He whispers. His index and thumb pinched on the thin fabric of your pajama bottoms.

“Yes” you nod looking down at your boyfriend. His hair sticking in every direction, veined hands pulling down the soft fabric off your hips, big brown eyes drinking in every single detail of your face. You lift your hips as he drags down your pajamas almost agonizingly slow but you’re not in a rush, not even when the tips of his pinkies hook into your panties bringing them down too.

He’s careful when he removes your clothing off your feet, successfully throwing them into the hamper before looking down. His pupils dilating, pink tongue licking his lips like a man starved seeing his meal for the first time in a while. He lays on his stomach, big hands grabbing the backs of your thighs.

“This okay?” He murmur, eyes flicking up towards yours. He needs your permission, wants desperately to give into your whims and quell the sadness that hangs over you. Not that he can see much of it right now. Not when you’re looking at him through half lidded eyes as your chest rises subtly. You nod letting out a breath trying to calm your racing heart down.

He crawls closer pulling your legs open and groaning as you’re exposed to his hungry gaze. He dips his face forward like he’s smelling freshly cut daises, nose pressed to your pussy. Your fingers curl around the sheets with a sharp gasp, eyes fluttering closed until Eddie asks you to open them. You swallow hard in embarrassment, Eddie always liked maintaining eye contact during intimacy but you’re still left very raw and vulnerable.

“I’m right here baby” he whispers, fingers finding yours in the crumpled sheets, intertwining his much larger hand with yours. Your eyes flutter open at his tenderness, dark pupils finding your matching ones as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh. You squeeze his fingers back as a wordless ‘okay.’

His free hand glides through the fabric with a whooshing noise, thumb and index finger opening up your pussy to his gaze. This time he swallows hard, seeing your pussy wet and attentive for him. Your clit glistening in your arousal like a shiny pearl in an open clam.

He dips his face forward, the familiar feeling of his hair tickling your inner thighs already making your heart race but as soon as his tongue flatly traces up your slick entrance you swear you could die and go to heaven. You squeeze his hand tighter as you moan softly, a grin adorning Eddie’s face as soon as he hears it. He’s fucking elated that you’re letting him take care of you when you’ve been feeling this down.

The tip of his tongue swirls expertly around your clit teasingly, your eyebrows knitting together immediately. You sigh that is until, he applies more pressure to your clit. A small noise escapes your throat as you press your head into the pillow again.

“Taste so sweet, baby” his voice husky and low, cool like amber.

“So fucking perfect” he whispers as he lays his tongue flat against your clit, licking continuous stripes over it until he coaxed out those familiar whines from your lips. His tongue finds its way to your entrance, the tip of it working you open until he’s got his tongue inside the bumpy walls, nose brushing against your clit as he tongue fucks you making sure to go slow and gentle. He wants you to feel how much he fucking loves you.

It isn’t long until your thighs are trembling on either side of his head, more whimpers and moans mixed with broken curse words leave from deep in your lungs. They fill the gap, slowly inflating the ache in your chest until the cavity is smooth and your ribs are back in place. Of course you’re not healed for life but Eddie will be there to fill the gap.

You feel so loved, eyes burning with happy tears as your fingers squeeze his tighter. A final breathless moan leaves your parted lips as your back arches off the bed ever so slightly. It is not dramatic, there’s no screaming, no neighbors banging on the door for you to shut up. It’s your body trembling as your fingers tug on the bedsheets, it’s patient and kind and warm. It’s Eddie, it’s you, it’s your love. It’s everything you need.

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samkerrworshipper · 5 months

Text

your moms are here

leah williamson x reader, jordan nobbs x reader, (wobbs as coparents)

part 5 of beautiful girl series pt.1 -> pt.2 -> pt.3 -> pt.4

warnings: if your any bit emotionally unstable this isn’t for u x

You didn’t expect to wake up, let alone wake up warm and in a fraction of the amount of pain you’d been in the last time you’d been conscious enough to feel anything.

Your eyes were still crammed shut, your chest still hurt, your body was still shaking, but you felt better, less like you were dangling on the cliff of life and death, you weren’t sure where you were, or if you were even alive.

Was this they greater beyond?

Was it the warmth of death’s embrace?

You knew it wasn’t, because there was still the dull pain and the tension all over your body. You didn’t believe that life after death was anything, that it was actually some overwhelming cloud of happiness and perfection, but if it did exist, if there was some kind of heaven, this wasn’t it.

You thought about the places you could be, in bed at Matt’s house, in bed at your mom’s house, in bed at some kidnappers house, in bed at rehab.

You quickly eliminated each option, the bed and sheets weren’t the same from your bed or Matt’s, kidnappers didn’t normally concern themselves with comfortability, and in your mind rehab would have more detoxing, screaming, junkies.

Out of pure fear, you tried to crack your eyes open, it wasn’t easy, but with some concentration that made your forehead feel like it was being split open, you managed to slowly crack your right eye open. There was sleep and tears keeping your eyelashes stuck together, which made it far harder then it should have been, the blinding white light directly above your head wasn’t much help either.

You took back what you thought, everything hurt.

From your toenails to the follicles on top of your head, it felt like every single nerve in your body was being plucked and split in half.

Your whole body curled itself up into a ball, it made the shaking a little bit less like your body was being exorcised.

You realised very quickly as your eye became accustomed to the light around you that you were in the last place you possibly wanted to be.

You should have clocked on to it, based on the persistent beeping noise coming from above you and the cords that were connected to your arm.

They’d dropped you off out the front of a fucking hospital.

Or someone had found you and called a ambulance.

Or your moms had taken you to the hospital.

Or you were in some sick twisted dream.

With the rest of the energy that was left in your body you managed to crack open your other eye, it wasn’t easy, but it helped you feel more aware of your surroundings.

It was a surprisingly quiet hospital, or at least by your standards.

You tried to sit up, but it was no use, your body was completely spent, all of the energy felt like it had been completely pulled from your body.

Withdrawals, maybe.

Or the reaction of the opioid with the stimulant.

Those were your best guesses as to how you’d ended up feeling like death.

You didn’t have to wait long to find out, the curtain which was keeping you contained from the rest of the ER was opened up, a nurse waltzing her way over to your bedside.

You couldn’t help but feel a little bit vulnerable, you could hardly move your body and had a lot less control over it then you would have liked.

“Miss dump and run awakens.”

Dump and run.

You couldn’t decide whether or not you were mad with your friends, on one hand, it was smart of them to drop you off at an er. They had no medical knowledge, they were druggies, they didn’t need a dead body on their hands. On the other hand, they’d left you, deserted you, left you for dead.

The nurse moved to your IV and monitor, looking at the different flashing numbers and writing them down on her clipboard, before she looked down and addressed you properly.

“Had a lot of drugs in your system for such a wee thing like yourself. Your friends were smart to drop you here, you would have been as good as dead with that much meth in your system for any longer. I’ve seen a lot of overdoses in my day, you might just take the cake though, darlin’.”

Overdose?

A fucking overdose?

You’d been doing drugs for months now, meth, a smidge of coke, little bits of molly and LSD, a little sprinkle of heroin, opioids a couple of times, plenty of weed. Not once had you ever overdosed, you’d never seen someone overdose, you’d come to think it was urban myth.

You’d hardly taken anything, two shoot ups within a couple of hours of each other, it wasn’t something you’d done before but it also wasn’t exorbitant or something you hadn’t seen other people do.

“Sorry, an overdose?”

You were still shaking, it was less obvious underneath the shitty hospital blanket that was on top of you, but you were still shaking like a leaf in the wind.

“Yup, think you had more meth in your blood stream then blood. The saline should flush it all out until your guardians get here.”

Guardians?

What?

What the actual fuck was this nightmare that you were stuck in.

“Sorry, my guardians?”

The nurse looked back down at her clipboard.

“Ms Williamson and Ms Nobbs? We’re obligated to call emergency contacts in life threatening circumstances and those were the ones that were on your phone, they should be here soon enough.”

You didn’t care that you couldn’t moved, you needed to leave.

“I want to discharge, now.”

The nurse looked at you like you had gone silly, like you were in a psychiatric ward instead of the emergency one.

“You’re underage, and you’d have to sign a waiver saying that you are aware you’re going against doctors orders, a lot of paperwork, and you’d actually have to be strong enough to walk out of here, which I can promise you is not happening any time soon,”

The nurse pointed to the IV bag.

“There’s still another hour or so left on this, until it’s done that dizzines your experiencing and the weakness isn’t going to pass. You’re frighteningly dehydrated and full of methamphetamines.”

Fuck.

You were so fucking fucked.

“Please, I’ll sign whatever forms, just let me leave, please.”

You didn’t know how you planned to leave, considering you weren’t even mobile enough to roll onto your back to look at the nurse properly, eye to eye.

“You get up and walk to my desk where the papers are and you can leave, how’s that sound, sweetheart?”

You want to yell directly into her face and tell her to let you fucking leave. But you don’t, you have a inch of self-respect that prevents you from doing it.

“Please.”

You’ve never liked to beg, you did enough of it during your youth, begging for your mom to not leave you home alone every night, begging for things to get better, begging for your life to get better, and it had. Jordan and Leah had introduced you to a whole new world, a beautiful world, the kind of world you’d read about as a child, they’d given you anything and everything you’d wanted growing up. You’d become gracious, but promised yourself that you’d never beg in the same way that you always had, but when your life had been turned upside down, you’d reverted back to your old ways.

“I have a daughter of my own, y’know, around your age. If she was in your situation all I would care about is her being okay, that’s whats most important.”

You rolled your eyes, you were certain of one things, your moms would be mad, you were surprised they were coming at all, everyone had deserted you, it felt like you had nobody.

“Can i get something for the pain?”

You were intelligent enough to know that the iv was detoxing you at a rapid rate, whilst it was saving your life, it also meant that you were going to be sent into withdrawals a lot faster then you should have. You weren’t going to get your hands on meth, clearly. So you needed a substitute, luckily, you were currently sitting in a hospital which was filled with every single painkiller known to man.

“Good try honey, a part from the fact that your bloodstream and body couldn’t even handle a tylenol at the minute, I’m also not going to give an addict drugs, just hang in honey, the chest pain and muscle cramps should start to pass soon.”

Just as she was finishing, your eyes darted to the emergency room doors, which were now hanging open as your two moms and Lia walked through the doors.

Jordan was dressed in the same sweats she’d been in all morning, her face was red and puffy, eyes bloodshot and still full of tears.

Leah looked more put together, she had a pair of slacks on and a clean shirt, her eyes were as red as Jordan’s but she appeared to have put on more of a brave face.

Your eyes darted everywhere, looking for some kind of escape, or to stop their fast steps that were slowly getting closer to you with every millisecond that passed.

There was no hope for you.

If the drugs hadn’t killed you then your moms would.

Leah managed to cross into your makeshift room first, her eyes flashing across every inch of your body. You expected her to ask the nurse a question, or yell at you, but she didn’t.

She walked straight to your bedside, your nurse moving out of the way, and without you being aware of what was happening, wrapped her arms around your body.

You didn’t hug your moms a lot anymore.

In the start, when you’d started out with them, it had taken a lot of effort from them to make you trust them with that kind of contact, but eventually, you’d become reliant on their hugs, the shoulder pats, the little motherly touches here and there that you’d never gotten as a kid.

When they’d broken up, the hugs and contact had faded, similarly to the love in the house, it was like everything personal, everything that made Leah’s house a home had been drained.

“You’re okay, thank god you’re okay.”

Leah’s body lingered on your own body long enough for Jordan’s arms to wrap around your body on the other side of you.

You hadn’t been hugged by the both of them in over a year, you felt guilty for wishing that this wouldn’t be a one time thing, that you could have this whenever you wanted. That wasn’t your life though, it wasn’t your reality, it wasn’t reality.

You let yourself relax, you knew you’d regret it when the moment ended, it’d make it that much harder to realise you couldn’t have this, but you let yourself enjoy it whilst you had it.

It lasted longer than you’d thought, it was hard, Jordan hugs were addictive. You didn’t get them a lot anymore, occasionally you’d get a hug from Leah, once every blue moon when she wanted one, but it wasn’t like this. It wasn’t body on body, feelings on feelings, love on love.

You didn’t know if you knew what love felt like anymore, over the years it had been distorted, you were certain that love could only be given to a person in transaction. It’s why you’d tried to be perfect, the perfect kid, the perfect student, the perfect player. You’d given up when Jordan had left, it didn’t matter anymore, there wasn’t enough love to be shared around between you and Leah. Love to you, was a privilege, not something that everyone had extra of. You had to earn love, or at keast that;s how you’d always seen it. You’d never been good enough for your own parents, that’s how you’d ended up with Jordan and Leah, from them you’d always craved that love, the love you’d never gotten and you’d been willing to do anything for it, you still were.

“We love you so much chicky, so much.”

You enjoyed the little murmurs, the little whispers in your ears that were so heartfelt and meaningful that you could feel the tears of your moms dripping down each side of your neck.

All good things come to and end, but it didn’t make it any easier.

Leah, unsurprisingly was the first to turn to your nurse.

“They didn’t tell me anything on the phone, just that we needed to come here, she’s okay?”

Your nurse nodded at your mom.

“Yes ma’am, we’re flushing her out right now. She wants to discharge herself, it’s going against medical advice but she’s free to once she’d done with her iv and she’s regained some strength.”

Jordan sat down on the bed next to you, leaving a big enough gap of space that you could still feel her presence but weren’t pressed up against her, she was listening just intently as Leah to the nurse.

“Flushing her out? Of what?”

Fuck.

You’d never ever, in your life, known Leah to not be inquisitive, she needed and wanted answers to everything, but this was worrying you. There were things you kept a secret for a reason.

“Methamphetamines, she had a pretty high amount circulating in her body. I can get the doctor to come and talk to you about it. Her body had built up a decent tolerance, she took it a lot better than you or I would. Apart from that she’s in fairly good condition, although the doctor did have some concerns about some scratches and bruises that seemed consistent with domestic or sexual abuse.”

You watched, in a series of moments, your mothers face fall more and more as the nurse kept speaking. Leah was pretty good at having a poker face, she had to for her job, she also kept a brave face for life though. You’d hardly seen a break in her resolve since her injury but right now, she was keeping nothing hidden. You felt Jordan’s body go rigid behind you as well, you knew shit was about to get real.

You considered strangling yourself with the blanket on top of you, or drowning yourself in the toilet bowl in the adjacent bathroom. It sounded better than the conversation that was about to occur.

“You’re daughter is very lucky, stupid, but lucky. Her friends ditched her at the front door, if they had of been any later she’d be in far worse condition. She was here just quick enough for us to counteract the drugs and stop them from effecting her mental cognition. Her friends shouldn’t have ditched her, or let her get that far gone, but you should be grateful they were at least smart enough to take her somewhere she could get help. I’m going to go find the doctor, he can talk to you about different option you have, and I’ll leave you guys to talk for a little bit, okay?”

Leah nodded, dumbfoundedly, trying her best to smile at the nurse as she made her way towards the exit of your room, closing the curtains and then the door.

Leah pivoted as soon as she was gone, looking down at you with so much horror and pain that you could feel it in your gut.

“Meth, bubba? You’ve been doing meth?”

The sentence hung in the air for a few seconds, filling up all of the space, you hoped that after a couple of seconds that it would disappear, like it had never been said.

“It’s not a big deal.”

You should have chosen your words more precisely, but you were finding it hard to think with all of the drug haze clouding your head.

“Not a big deal? You told me it was the vape, then it was weed, then it was coke and now iut’s fucking meth? There is nothing not big about that bubba. This isn’t just something you can do for fun, this isn’t okay, this is serious. You could die from this. You almost did. You’re 17. 17 year olds aren’t supposed to die. Why bubba? What made you want to do this, not just to yourself but to your life, to everyone. Do you know how scared your mother and I have been. The whole team has been calling up hospitals and roaming the streets looking for you. We’ve been terrified.”

Guilt was one of the best ways to make a person admit they were wrong, you knew it, you’d watched your moms manipulate each other during the break up the same way. They’d use something against the other until it spiralled into a massive fight which would end with someone sleeping at a teammates house or on the couch.

“I’m sorry, okay? Can we just go home? I want to go home.”

Another poor choice in words apparently by the look on Leah’s face.

“No we can’t just go home, we need to talk about this bubba, you overdosed on meth. You have a tolerance for it, which means you’ve been using it for a while. You have bruises and you’re in a hospital bed unable to move. You’re addicted to a drug that I would have thought you’d have absolutely no interest in. You’ve got a disease bubba, you’ve got an addiction and we’re going to work it out, we’ll fix it.”

Similar to being a control freak, Leah was also a person who wanted to fix everything. No problem was big enough for her, apparently your whole life wasn’t either.

“Mom this isn’t a disease, this isn’t like fucking cancer or something. I made a choice, I have it under control, this is my life. I’m choosing to live it this way.”

Your mom looks like she’s about to lose her shit.

“I understand that you think you have this under control and that you think this is the best way to be living your life but it fucking isn’t. I understand you’re struggling, but this isn’t okay, you’re a kid, you can;t be doing this.”

Worst thing you can tell a addict, you can’t take drugs.

Because yes you most certainly can, it’s a free motherfucking country.

“I understand what I’m doing, it doesn’t make me a bad person or any different from your or mama. You don’t like who i am anymore, not since i quit football and stopped being who you wanted me to be, I’ve changed and you have to accept that, this is me mom, this is who I am.”

Leah looked flabbergasted.

“You want me to just nod my head and accept my daughter is a junkie, right? That’s the permission you are seeking, you aren’t going to get it bubba, this isn’t anywhere near okay. This isn’t you, people change, I change, you’re allowed to be different then how you were a couple of years ago. Drugs isn’t how you change yourself, it’s not how you reinvent yourself. You can’t live your whole fucking life like this because guess what, you’ll end up dead. Addiction is a degenerative disease, it is incurable, it is deadly, it’s no fucking different from cancer and you’ve got it. I understand that, you’ve got an addiction, we’ll figure it out. I am not going to enable you to keep abusing a substance that will kill you. You’ve got a death wish and I won’t sit by and allow it to happen. I thought I was cool, I thought it was good of me to be accepting that you’re a teenager and you were going to do stupud stuff, I let you get away with much more than I should have. I’m sorry, I’m sorry that if I gave you to much space that you felt the need to do this, I’m sorry that I wasn’t a good enough parent to see the warning signs, but I won’t let you kill yourself bubba, not when I can stop it from happening.”

Jordan was still silent, as passive as ever, she’d always taken a backseat, the silent enabler.

“You’ve got no fucking idea what I’m going through, I’m sorry I scared you, but I don’t have to explain my actions to you, you understand nothing about what I’m dealing with.”

The first time you sweared in the presence of Leah and Jordan was your second day with them. You didn’t even know what swearing was, you’d just picked up words that had been said as you’d been growing up. You hadn’t hesitated to throw a ‘fuck’ out when you’d stubbed your foot on the kitchen bench as you’d been pouring yourself a glass of water.

You’d known something was wrong though when you’d turned around to sit back down at the table with Leah and Jordan and both of them looked like they’d seen a ghost.

You’d hardly swore after that, to your core, you were a people pleaser, you didn’t like to be in trouble, right now though it was like everything you’d grown up with was exiting your body. You felt like a monster, like a version of yourself you didn’t know and it was hard, it was really fucking hard. You didn’t want to break down, you were scared that if you were vulnerable you’d be taken advantage of again, the same way that you friends had, so you put up your won shields.

“I don’t need to know what you’re going through to know that this isn’t good. We’ll get you into rehab, we’ll get you clean, we’re here for you, right Jords?”

You could feel Jordan nodding from behind you.

“I’m not going to rehab, fuck no.”

Leah was pacing, it was what she did when she was stressed, it was a clear tell.

“So, I’m just supposed to allow you back into my house, knowing that you’ve been hiding an addiction from me for months, trust that my drug addicted child will stay clean on her own account and be willing to go through withdrawals and not give in to her own addiction. Do you think I don’t love you, is that it? Because right now you’re telling me that I am expected to allow my daughter to use drugs, lethal drugs that almsot killed her, under my roof, allow you to live your life as you want it, and leave you alone. As a person who loves you and has loved your for the past 9 years of your life, are you actually hearing what you are saying?”

Love.

It was a curious thing, your mother thought she loved you, or at least she felt like she did. Ut was funny how to you, you felt the exact opposite way.

“So what you’re doing this to show me you love me or something? Reality check, you haven’t given a fucking shit about me in months, it’s all about Lia, all about your knee. I’m not selfish enough to expect that you can focus on me whilst your recovering but don’t try and act like you’ve been loving and caring about me this whole time when you haven’t.”

Leah sits herself down, she can only handle so long on her feet nowadays.

“Maybe you should coem stay with me, come to rehab in Birmingham. Bubba, your mom is still struggling.”

You’re more than shocked to hear Jordan pipe up, it reignites something else in you.

“No you don’t get to have a fucking say. You left me, you don’t text anymore, you don’t call. I’m only your kid when it’s convenient for you, which is about 10 days every year. You don’t even try with me, you washed your hands of me a year ago and you don’t get to come back now. You gave me up.”

Your sick of being the understanding one, sick of being the one everybody could burden with their problems, sick of being the fucking scapegoat in every situation.

“Look kid, i think you need to have some more respect for your mothers.”

Lia.

Fucking Lia and her audacity and her fucking butting into all of your family problems.

“No you don’t get a fucking say, you move in a couple of months ago to support my mom and all of a sudden your my third fucking parent. You’ve got nothing to do with me, You don’t get to have a say in anything, you aren’t apart of this fucking family.”

Leah looked like she was having about 30 wars with herself inside of her head, like she was struggling to figure out which side of her brain she should side with.

“Bubba, we’ve talked about this, you need to be respectful to Lia.”

You were sick of everybody telling you that you had to respect people, that you had to follow fucking rules. They wondered why you’d spiralled.

“No, fuck this, fuck you, fuck jordan, fuck everything. I made a series of decisions, ones that I am happy with, this is how I am living my life.”

Leah took a deep breath, before turning to face you.

It was hard looking at her eye to eye, you were putting her through a lot right now, and a part of you deep down felt bad about it. You didn’t want to make your mom feel in pain, you didn’t want her to suffer, it was the last thing you wanted. Without her, you’d be as good as nothing, you’d have absolutely nothing. But you were lashing out, you were as frantic as your sore chest and pumping heart would let you be.

“Bubba. You don’t seen what’s wrong. I do, Jordan and I are sitting here talking to a girl that we don’t know. This isn’t our daughter, this isn’t the girl we’ve raised. You’re going to go to rehab, you’re going to detox, you’re going to get properly clean and once you are we’ll have this conversation again, see if you have a different perspective.”

You didn’t want to have this conversation when you were clean, you wanted to have it now.

“No. If you gave a shit about me, like you’re acting to, you wouldn’t have fucking broken up in the first place. You wouldn’t have torn my life apart, you wouldn’t have done this to me. You wouldn’t have stopped cring about me, you wouldn’t have stopped loving me. Let me go, let me leave. You fucking did this to me and if you want to make it up to me you’ll let me leave.”

You saw Leah’s face fall to another level.

“I can’t do that bubba.”

You felt like you were spinning out of control, like you were in a car that had just fallen over a cliff, and you were slowly doing flip after flip as the car catapulted towards the rocks at the bottom.

“Mom, just let me leave, let me go, please mom, let me leave, let me fucking leave.”

Leah just shook her head at you.

“Bubba, I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, it might not ever. I know me and your mom breaking up was hard for you, you didn’t deserve that, and I’m sorry for that, but neither of us could handle keeping you in a household without love, and I know it’s different now, I’m so sorry for that, I wish we could go back. But we can’t, me and your mom don’t love each other more, we can’t just love each other. We love you though, we love you more then anything else. We would both pick you above anybody in the world, you’re our beautiful little girl, you’re our girl. You’ll never not be our daughter. We chose you years ago and we would choose you again today, everyday, for the rest of our lives. No matter what you do.”

There are big tears dripping down your moms face, you’ve seen her cry plenty in your life, Leah Williamson is known to be an emotional person, but not like this, not with this much anguish and pain in her face, never like this.

“You don’t love me, you can’t fucking love me, I’m not like either of you. I break people apart, I’m a catalyst, everywhere I go, I tear people a part, I wreck their lives. I wrecked my parents, I wrecked you guys relationship, I wrecked my own life. I’m a fucking semi-truck that bulldozes through peoples lives, just let me leave and you guys can be happy again.”

Leah takes a double take, her fists are white from how hard they are holding onto the arms of the chair she’s sat in. You’re surprised she doesn’t yell back at you, but instead of meeting your aggression with an equal amount, she composes herself.

“Bubba, do you know how much I love you, how much your mama and I love you? If you could take all of the words in the english language, it still wouldn’t be enough to describe how much we love you. And if you could gather all of those words together, it still wouldn’t be enough. What we feel for you is everything. I love you more than everything. You don’t pull people a part, you’ve made your mama and I happier than we ever would have been without you. You light up our lives everyday, I know it doesn’t feel like it, but just seeing you everyday is my biggest achievement, it’s the best part of my day. Seeing you grow up to be the person Jord and I raised will forever be the best part of my life. You didn’t tear us apart, if anything you were what kept us together for so long, because being around you made us both so happy, that all of our problems didn’t matter as much. Eventually it was too much though, it had nothing to do with you, it never will, it never did. You’re the light in our life, you are our whole universe. We just want you to be okay, you don’t have to be who you were, people change, but you need to be okay. You’re not okay right now, there isn’t anything wrong with that, it’s okay to not be okay, but me and your mama will find you help if you don’t seek it our yourself. You need to go to rehab, you can’t live your life like this, it isn’t sustainable. Drugs ruin peoples lives. I don’t need to throw stats at you for you to understand the magnitude of drug related deaths, because that’s how this will end, with you dead. You’ve been through so much bubba, you’re so strong, but you don’t always have to be strong, you’re allowed to break down, you’re allowed to have bad days. But drugs isn’t a way to fix that, it’s not a safe coping mechanism, you can’t rely on drugs to solve every problem that you have. You need to get clean. We love you so much, our beautiful girl.”

Everything hurts, your heart, your head, your body. Your eyes and head aren’t clear, it’s like there is a fuzzy haze covering everything, but you believe what Leah is telling you, she’s telling you the honest truth, and you can’t deny that.

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