#I could have coloured it but I had one hour to do if

[tojiscrack]

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

summary: 12.1k words — you attend jujutsu high’s saturday football game on time, but arrive unintentionally late to another event, which spurs more consequences than you initially imagined

notes: it’s extremely late as i type this up (nearly 4am) but i wanted to get this one out asap for my two talented artists @kickingcat and @azr3na ! <3 you guys have made writing this story so much more enjoyable knowing that i have some AWESOME art to check out every once in a while, and it motivates me to write better quality work 🤧 for that, this chapter is dedicated to the both of you! tysm for ur hard work, it truly shows in the quality of your drawing! <3

tw: swearing, mentions of infidelity and cheating, demons, rituals, mentions of brutal murder, i think that’s all lol

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i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the late saturday afternoon sun beamed brightly over jujutsu high's football field, casting long shadows across the trimmed grass.

the stands were packed with spectators, a sea of navy blue with pops of lighter blue from the cheer squad's uniforms, which shimmered with metallic accents under the sunlight. the players, clad in their dark blue jerseys with gold trim, huddled on the sidelines, their helmets glinting. you could spot players number one and two — yuji and megumi — from where you were positioned with satoru, who had you held up over his shoulders to showcase the large poster you and nobara had spent hours decorating; she was currently lined up with the rest of the cheerleaders on the track, pom-poms shaking in time to a peppy chant, while the faint scent of hot dogs and popcorn wafted from the concession stands.

on the opposing side, ridgeview high prepared for battle. their colours (a striking crimson and white) stood out against the green field as their players jogged through last-minute warm-ups, their jerseys spotless and sharp. similarly, their cheerleaders wore matching crimson skirts with white trim, their coordinated cheers echoing across the field as they tried to rival the noise from you and your peers on the stands.

the game had begun with ridgeview high immediately showing you why they were team you should be worried about, their offence tearing through jujutsu high's defence with precision passes and swift runs. by the end of the first quarter, ridgeview had been leading by two touchdowns, their crimson-and-gold-clad players celebrating wildly under the late morning sun.

panda, your school mascot that had been part of nobara's cheerleading group at the front, had let out a roar of disappointment. you raised your brows at the sound — he truly was yaga's son.

"they bulldozed us," you commented, your arms growing tired from holding up your pink, sparkly poster. you held it to your chest as coach yaga called back the team for a pep talk: he did not look pleased. "it's gonna be so embarrassing if we lose. i was talking so much smack to one of their players on twitter."

"we're not gonna lose," satoru reassured you from below, patting your thigh as though your worries weren't rational. "but if — we won't, obviously — but on the very rare occasion that we do, we know who to blame."

you nodded. "player number two."

"exactly! player number t— wait that's megumi," satoru frowned, throwing his head back so he could look up at you. you thought he looked odd upside down.

"mhm," you hummed, waiting for the next play to commence. "it's his fault 'cause... 'cause i say so."

"nah, that's a shitty reason," said satoru, looking back at the field where the players were preparing to commence the second play. "it's only okay if i say so — don't pull my hair, ow!"

you had given him a firm tug, fed up with his antics as he shook your hand off his head, causing you to sway slightly on his shoulders. you quickly regained your balance, gripping his head tightly.

"stop squirming," you muttered, giving him another light thump, to which he groaned but didn't retaliate. instead, he tilted his chin up defiantly.

"as i was saying," he continued, his tone matter-of-fact, as though explaining the newton's law, "it's not megumi's fault when you really pay attention to player nine's form."

you looked around, brows furrowed.

"player nine?" you repeated lowly, searching for the number on each jersey. the players had begun to disperse, but you spotted nine next to seven, his arm extended to pat his friend.

you frowned, confused when the realisation of who was beneath the helmet had clicked to you.

"that's kamo," you spoke aloud, both to yourself and to satoru, who let out a low whistle below you.

"yeah?" he responded, before lowering his voice down to a level where you were certain that if you had not been sitting propped up on his shoulders, you would have missed it. "unsurprising."

you pulled down your poster to hit his face, his immediate reaction to become frantic, risking you falling off.

"stop!" you demanded, panicked.

"your fault for being smart enough to pick a fight with the same person who's holding you up."

he wasn't wrong there, you accepted to yourself silently.

the game restarted with renewed energy, and you and satoru had started loudly cheering for both megumi and yuji, your voices blending with the collective roar of the crowd. you continued to wave your pink, sparkly poster energetically above your head, waiting for megumi to catch sight of it, for it had been tailored to specifically piss him off.

midway through the quarter, the ball was in yuji's possession, who skilfully dodged two ridgeview defenders with quick footwork. he spotted megumi sprinting downfield, and with a perfectly timed pass, the ball soared through the air. megumi leaped, catching it cleanly despite pressure from a ridgeview line-backer. and with incredible focus, he charged forwards, weaving through the defence, and managed to cross the goal line just before being tackled.

all at once, the crowd erupted as the referee signalled a touchdown, jujutsu high having finally closed the gap in the score. you and satoru cheered wildly, his excitement nearly knocking you off balance on his shoulders.

from the middle of the celebratory huddle, megumi's gaze wandered upwards, begrudgingly enduring the pats and slaps on his back from his ecstatic teammates. his expression (though difficult to see very well from where you were) was one of mild irritation, his posture stiff among the jubilant chaos.

you tried not to laugh.

he hated hugging, especially when it came from people he was not particularly close with, and anyone could tell. he did not do much to hide his distaste, after all.

as his eyes drifted above the sea of helmets, they landed on you and satoru in the stands, and when his expression had become stonier than it was during the hug attacks from his fellow teammates, you knew he spotted the poster.

amid the sea of sparkly pink glitter, obnoxiously bold bubble letters read "YUJI AND MEGUMI <3" in a mix of hot pink and light pink, glimmering in the sunlight. the glaring issue, however, had been the centrepiece: a photo of him, clearly edited, showing a toothy, radiant smile he had never once produced in real life.

you'd used a face app since he never smiled.

yuji's face was on the other side of the poster, but you'd made sure to decorate his side normally. after all, his picture had remained unedited due to the fact that he knew how to smile.

the over-the-top embellishments, featuring musa from winx club and draculaura from monster high, made the megumi's side of the poster even more ridiculous.

you laughed when he took his helmet off to pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation, though his teammates mistook his reaction for post-touchdown exhaustion.

"woohoo! porcupine!" you cheered supportively.

he only slammed his helmet back on his head and turned away, returning to the game with more drive in his steps.

"sir!" someone from behind you called out loudly. "mr gojo! we can't — we can't see! you're in the way —"

"you'll get over it," satoru called back cheerfully.

the game had eventually ended with jujutsu high sealing a victory in the final moments. the cheerleaders' blue pom-poms shimmered in the afternoon sun as the football team huddled together in celebration, and you had realised with ringing ears, how you'd never heard such loud cheers erupt from the stands the way that they had that saturday afternoon.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the room was chaos.

sukuna moved like a predator, his every step deliberate, his grin wide and mocking as he toyed with nobara. still, in her anger, she lunged at him, fist raised, her ferocity unshaken despite the bruises already darkening her skin. each of her attacks had been met with infuriating ease, sukuna parrying her strikes with casual movements that radiated his overwhelming strength. it was clear she was losing — her breaths were ragged, her stance faltering, but she pressed on regardless.

megumi was holding his sprained ankle, trying to find a way to stand on it that didn't feel like his entire leg was going to give.

every instinct told him to intervene, to distract sukuna long enough to pull nobara out of his reach, but doing so would be futile anyway, for his ankle had been annoyingly holding him back.

he gritted his teeth, glancing at the time on his phone.

you weren't here.

you had promised you'd come.

despite your tutoring session with kamo, you'd insisted that you wouldn't miss this. but now, with sukuna wreaking havoc and nobara barely holding her own, your absence stung, and megumi bitterly wondered to himself...

were you running late? or had you decided that turning up just wasn't worth the trouble?

his fingers tightened into fists. he didn't have time to dwell on your absence, yet it still lingered at the back of his mind like a haunting ghost, sour.

sukuna laughed for the nth time within the same hour — a cruel, echoing sound — as he knocked nobara's hairclips (which she'd been using to fight, somehow) out of her grip, sending her sprawling. megumi cursed under his breath, standing on his injured foot and pulling nobara back by her shoulder, putting himself between her and the demon possessing his friend's face.

"why do you keep coming back every twenty-ninth like we summoned you?" he demanded angrily, scowling when sukuna tore through another one of yuji's hoodies. this was getting really annoying.

"because you did summon me, megumi fushiguro!" sukuna roared back, his expression manic as he swung at megumi, his nails elongated to try and poke at his eye. megumi was pulled back by nobara's quick reaction time. "you summoned me once, now i'll return every month on the same day!"

"where's y/n?" megumi asked nobara, his head tilted slightly so he could glance at both sukuna and nobara at the same time. "she should be here by now —"

"i killed her!"

megumi and nobara exchanged a glance at sukuna's words, their reactions starkly contrasting. nobara's face flickered with confusion, her brows knitting together as if trying to decide whether sukuna was being serious or merely taunting them — it wouldn't be the first time, after all.

meanwhile, megumi's lip curled in pure disgust, his sharp glare piercing through sukuna's smug grin. the idea of you being dead — especially as an offhand joke — churned something bitter in his stomach, but he knew better than to react, for sukuna thrived on eliciting emotion, and megumi wasn't about to give him the satisfaction.

it was a stupid thing to say anyway. megumi did not like dramatics unless it came from you.

"is that... even possible?" nobara began, sounding uncertain.

"no," said megumi, brows furrowed, "obviousl—"

"— how would you know?" sukuna snapped, suddenly dropping to the floor to grip at megumi's injured ankle. megumi let out a hiss of pain as he kicked him off, but it had not been an easy feat, for sukuna's grip was iron-tight. "i ripped her body apart!"

nobara and megumi both worked simultaneously to take sukuna away from megumi's foot, but he was too strong.

"she said she's running a little late but she'll be here!" nobara hurriedly explained to the injured male, pulling at yuji's — sukuna's — hair.

he did not like that, choosing to release megumi's ankle in favour of jumping at nobara's neck.

"the library's not too far from here —" megumi snapped, throwing his arms over sukuna's shoulders from behind and pulling him away from nobara, holding him against his chest as hard as he could, "— hold and tie his arms — it shouldn't take her this long to — shit — get here!"

sukuna laughed menacingly. "she is in her tomb —"

"she — didn't — explain!" nobara said through heaved breaths; sukuna had been making it difficult to grab at his arms, swinging them back and forth with clenched fists, attempting to punch her away.

megumi let out a pained grunt, trying to shift his weight on his other foot. "well text her again —"

nobara widened her eyes at him, her pupils darting from sukuna to megumi to the mess made out of the room.

"— how?"

"SHE IS DEA—"

nobara karate chopped at sukuna's head, apparently having had enough of his constant interference with her conversation.

"can you speak when you are SPOKEN TO?"

furious with her attack at him, he roughly shrugged megumi off his back and immediately grabbed nobara's hair, pulling it harshly so she'd fallen to her knees before him.

"how dare you?" he began, contorting yuji's friendly brows into something more menacing. "this is where you belong, woman. at my f—" he stopped himself, looking over his shoulder at the sound of megumi's clumsy footsteps closing in on him. he immediately spun around and wrapped his hands around megumi's neck, tightening them to cut off his airways. nobara sprung into action immediately, trying to ease the iron-tight grip the demon had on her friend.

"what the he—"

"let go of him — oh my god —"

"I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS ONE MENTIONING THE OTHER BRAT!" sukuna stated stormily, eyes glinting a dangerous red. megumi could see the extra sets of eyes blinking back at him as he choked for breath. it was not a pleasant sight. "YOU WANT TO KNOW WHERE SHE IS? HOW ABOUT I LET YOU JOIN HER —"

"she's not dead!" nobara argued indignantly, her face growing pale at the vulnerability of megumi's state, "and would you get your disgusting claws off him?"

megumi's annoyance towards you burned in the back of his mind, barely tempered by his dwindling focus on survival.

you should've been here by now — how much longer was a simple tutoring session supposed to last? controlling sukuna was already a monumental challenge with three people; with only him and nobara, it felt like a hopeless endeavour, for the demon was too strong, too fast, and far too unpredictable. if you had been present, your support could have made all the difference...

or so he angrily justified to himself, as sukuna's nails bit deeper into his neck.

suddenly, the demon's grip loosened, and megumi had stumbled backwards, gasping for air.

but his reprieve hadn't been born of any mercy; it was a deliberate, mocking act.

sukuna had simply grown bored and wanted a new target.

with a sinister laugh, he threw megumi to the ground like a discarded rag doll before turning his attention to nobara, his lips curling into a gleeful sneer, his red eyes narrowing dangerously as he advanced towards her.

"why are you looking at me like that?" asked nobara, and while it might have sounded like she was being fierce and angry, megumi could sense the underlying fear in her voice.

"famous last words," sukuna teased, and megumi could have sworn he'd seen the tattoos on his body move in excitement.

but before anyone could say or do anything, sukuna's ears had wiggled, almost like demon dog's when he spotted satoru's expensive dog treats.

then, his head spun to glance at the door, which was now opened to make room for you, panting and wide-eyed, one hand holding onto the knob, the other closed around the spare key yuji had given you the night before.

your gaze swept over the chaotic scene: the dishevelled nobara, the bruised and gasping megumi on the ground, and sukuna's imposing form towering over them. the blood drained from your face as you locked eyes with the demon, his sinister grin widening like a predator spotting new prey.

"finally!" sukuna hissed, his voice dripping with venomous delight. his head tilted unnaturally, the extra eyes on his face narrowing with malevolent excitement. "the stupid chatterbox is here!"

"lock the door!" nobara ordered you as sukuna sprinted in your direction.

you slammed the door shut behind you with a resounding bang, shoving the key into the lock with practiced precision, and just as sukuna's body crashed against it with a deafening thud, you deftly sidestepped to avoid the impact, letting out a sigh of relief at how he had narrowly missed you.

with a swift twist of the key, the lock clicked into place just in time, and you tossed the key at nobara with wide eyes.

sukuna let out a loud howl of frustration. "you haven't even been here a minute and you are already such a NUISANCE!"

"i didn't even do anything — woah!"

megumi had speedily scrambled to his wobbly feet to pull you away from the danger that was sukuna by your shoulders. your back had met the wall harshly, making you let out a gasp of something in between pain and stupor, brows furrowed at his eerily cold expression.

it seemed that you were not aware of just how much wreckage sukuna could cause with one less person.

"where were you?" megumi asked, as sukuna made an attempt to rip the doorknob off; nobara had reached up and pulled his hair so he was stumbling backwards away from the door.

"the library —"

"— for that long?"

the crease between your brows had started to deepen as you blinked up at him.

"i never said i'd make it on time," you responded, as he stepped back and looked over his shoulder to see if nobara was in any danger; she had everything handled. "i told you i'd be late," you added, eyes widening as you pushed past him to help nobara with sukuna, but megumi had let out a pained grunt, making you stop in your tracks and eye him carefully. "are you okay?"

"fine," he said, failing to hide his limp.

you looked between nobara, sukuna, megumi, and the rest of the mess around the room, blinking confusedly.

"all of this happened 'cause i was gone for a bit?" you marvelled, shocked.

"can barely survive with three of us," nobara huffed over sukuna's loud threats, throwing the key that sukuna had been actively trying to retrieve over to megumi, who caught it with ease. "he nearly escaped six times with just megumi and i! shit, help me!"

you sprung into action, throwing your school bag aside to pull sukuna away from nobara.

"why is he shirtless again?" you said, squeaking when he shoved you away, stumbling into megumi by accident.

"how dare you touch me with your female fingers —"

"okay i'm sorry oh my god!" you cried, hands going up to shield your face from his onslaught of punches, but this action had done nothing to hide the level of pain that had shot up every area he targeted. "ow — stop!"

the room descended into more chaos as sukuna launched into a furious assault. his movements were wild yet calculated, his strikes unrelenting as he aimed to incapacitate everyone in the room.

he had decided to lunged at you first, his nails raking through the air as you ducked just in time, tripping backwards into megumi once again, but this time, megumi had instinctively shoved you aside to take sukuna's punch directly. he had stumbled as a result, but remained upright, apparently determined to shield you and nobara from further harm.

nobara, meanwhile, had grabbed the nearest object — a chair, for the sharpest objects had been wisely taken out of the room for everyone's safety — and swung it with all her strength at sukuna's back. the impact had barely fazed him, but it gave you just enough time to grab a textbook from your bag and hurl it at his head; the book smacked him squarely in the face, and he growled, red eyes glowing with rage.

"really, woman?" sukuna snarled, wiping his face with yuji's arm. "a book?"

he picked it up and tore it in front of your eyes, grinning grimly at your expression.

the book was a hardback.

"hey, kento lent that to me!" you complained angrily, before quickly scrambling out of reach as he advanced again, reminding yourself that you were talking to a demon.

nobara tackled him from the side, trying to pin his arms, but he effortlessly shrugged her off, sending her crashing into the desk.

megumi, visibly struggling, grabbed a metal ruler and jabbed it at sukuna's ribs, drawing a rare wince of discomfort.

"get the rope!" he barked at you, and you immediately darted to the corner of the room, pulling out the frayed cord you'd used before to subdue yuji when he'd started acting erratically.

the three of you worked in frantic synchronisation, trying to dodge sukuna's attacks and pull the rope taut around him whenever an opening appeared. nobara distracted him by tossing books and binders from your bag in his path, while you and megumi spent the time looping the rope around his torso.

sukuna's strength had been overwhelming, but each loop of the rope restricted his movements a little more, and you had managed to tie a final knot with shaking hands, backing away as he thrashed against his bindings.

for a moment, silence fell, save for sukuna's heavy breathing and the sound of everyone else gasping for air. then, with a sinister smirk, he chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine.

"you think this will hold me?"

"let's hope so," megumi muttered, leaning against the wall, his ankle burning, "because i'm out of ideas."

in the brief moments the three of you used to catch your breath, the respite proved to be tragically short-lived...

sukuna, his muscles rippling with unrestrained malice, had managed to tear through the ropes with almost insulting ease. the frayed ends of the cord fell to the ground as he stood there, grinning like a wolf savouring its cornered prey, rolling his shoulders as though loosening the tension in his body.

"since you're all so determined to waste my time," he sneered, his voice dripping with cruel amusement, "why don't we take a little trip down memory lane? after all, it's only fitting to reminisce before you all meet your end." his voice lowered into a chilling purr. "let's relive our first encounter, shall we?"

"what does that mean?" you began slowly.

he did not clarify...

and with that, sukuna's movements became terrifyingly calculated.

in a matter of minutes, he recreated the chaotic tableau from the day he had first terrorised your group: you found yourself yanked by the arm and hoisted up onto the curtain rail, your body dangling precariously as the flimsy structure groaned under your weight. nobara was shoved to the ground, her hair a wild, tangled mess as she clutched her arm, a fresh scrape bleeding through her torn sleeve. and megumi, breathing heavily with one hand braced on the wall, was forced to limp to the side, his injured ankle trembling under the strain.

sukuna stood amidst the wreckage, laughing with unrestrained glee at his handiwork, savouring the helplessness etched into each of your faces.

right, he thought to himself, watching the room and remembering the exact position he'd been in several months ago in february. this is what he meant...

his eyed had met sukuna's, and the demon's patience wore thin.

"where's the key?" he demanded, his tone sharp and unforgiving.

megumi felt for it in his pocket of his pants, but defiantly refused to give it up, his silence very obviously fuelling sukuna's frustration. with a growl of annoyance, the demon's lips curled into a sinister grin, and he made a split-second decision.

if words wouldn't pry the information from megumi, brute force would suffice, apparently, for he marched to the door and, with a single powerful strike, shattered the doorknob entirely.

megumi knew it was too late, and so did you, for he heard you groan from the ceiling.

"oh my god..."

the door had creaked open, but before sukuna could take a triumphant step into freedom, he stopped short.

his confidence wavered for the first time as his gaze met the person standing in the doorway.

it wasn't choso, as it had been during everyone's first encounter...

it was satoru.

megumi had never been so pleased to see the tall man, not that he'd ever tell him that.

he looked amused, his own grin widening as sukuna's faltered, and for a moment, the room held its collective breath.

and then he spoke:

"what, you're a gangster now, yuji?"

sukuna's expression twisted in disdain the instant satoru referred to him as yuji.

his lip curled, baring teeth in a snarl as he raised a fist, ready to strike, but before the blow could connect, satoru had moved with lightning speed, effortlessly grabbing sukuna's wrist and twisting his arm behind his back in one fluid motion. you could barely register what was going on from where you were hung, viewing the world from an upside down lens, but you caught how satoru, with a well-placed foot, swept sukuna's legs from under, sending him crashing to the floor with a resounding thud that made the entire room tremble.

"heh, that's sick! — i got your text, y/n," he grinned as he ignored sukuna's furious growl beneath him and straightened up, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeve with an air of exaggerated nonchalance.

his attention turned to nobara.

and a laugh erupted from him, loud and unrestrained, as his eyes took in her disheveled state.

"but i guess i'm a little late," he declared with delighted amusement, eyes sparkling as nobara swatted her wild hair in annoyance, "i've never seen you this ugly."

he helped her up despite his teasing, her eyes widening as she glanced at sukuna, who was speeding towards the open door.

"the door!" she yelled, but satoru's long legs were proven to be convenient, slamming the door shut before he grabbed sukuna by the shoulder and forced him backwards.

"gonna have to do an exorcism," he explained all the while, pulling out a small, plain, and black book from the wide pocket of his large jacket.

at that, sukuna's roar filled the room, a feral, deafening sound that reverberated through the walls like thunder.

"AN EXORCISM?" he laughed, his back against the lower wall. it seemed that the mesh of yuji's and sukuna's strength was no match for satoru's adult strength, which made sense, as sukuna did not have full control over yuji as of now. you thanked the lord silently. "I'D LIKE TO SEE YOU TRY!"

yet satoru moved through it as if his bellows were the soothing hum of a lullaby, steps measured and unhurried; his eyes, sharp with amusement and calm confidence, flicked to you, still dangling precariously from the curtain rod like a forgotten puppet.

he looked even more like an idiot to you upside-down.

but you would tell him that after you got his help.

with an effortless grace that betrayed his strength, he reached up and steadied you, his hands firm but careful as he eased you down.

"upsie daisy!" he said, as the world spun right-side up again the second your feet had touched the floor.

you slumped against the wall with exhaustion, the blood that had rushed to your head moving back down again.

but you could not rest there for long, for satoru had swiftly ushered everyone out of the room with a wave of his hand. nobara had stormed ahead, muttering about how this should have been handled earlier, while you followed, glancing nervously over your shoulder.

was it safe for satoru to be left alone with the demon, who was now eyeing nobara as she began closing the distance between herself and the door?

megumi had lagged behind, wincing with every step, which did not go amiss by satoru, who tilted his head slightly to meet his eye.

"i'll drive you to shoko's, yeah?" he asked, his tone gentler but still carrying a teasing lilt.

but megumi shook his head firmly, refusing the offer as he bit the inside of his cheek.

"i'm fine," he said, and that was how the three of you found yourselves lingering outside yuji's door, leaning against the wall as tension hung heavy in the air.

from within, the sounds of sukuna's fury erupted.

a guttural roar rattled the walls, followed by a sinister, bone-chilling laugh that sent a shiver down your spine. there were loud thuds and crashes as if furniture was being flung across the room, and knowing sukuna, there was absolutely a chance that that was exactly what had been going on behind the door, each sound punctuated by the sharp crack of splintering wood.

amidst the chaos, sukuna's mocking snarls could be heard over satoru's carefree chuckles, his taunting voice carrying effortlessly through the door.

"that all you got?" satoru teased, his words dripping with amused arrogance. "i was expecting more — hah! nearly got me there! — the way she described you."

another earth-shaking bang followed, sukuna roaring in frustration while satoru continued to laugh, as calm and amused as if he were playing a game instead of exorcising a feral demon.

the three of you exchanged concerned looks with one another.

"he's gonna get himself killed, teasing sukuna like that," nobara muttered, leaning against the wall opposite the door in the dark hallway.

"he's survived worse," you responded, moving your head away from the door with a flinch at the sudden bang that had followed.

nobara raised a brow. "like?"

"toji —"

"watch it," megumi growled from below without missing a beat; he had been sitting against the wall, a hand on his injured ankle.

the three of you waited in silence, the sounds of sukuna's threats, satoru's chuckles, and every other bang and crash that followed filling the space like white noise.

you glanced down at your friend's ankle, lips pursed.

"is it sprained?" you asked carefully.

he didn't look up when he replied.

"don't know," he shrugged, his tone clipped. "it's fine."

there was a short pause.

bang!

BANG!

megumi scowled. "how come you were late?"

the weight of megumi's question settled heavily in your chest, sharp and pointed, like a blade that hadn't quite drawn blood but hovered threateningly close.

he wasn't being harsh — not exactly — but there was something probing about his tone, and the way his eyes flickered to yours at your silence, dark and expectant, made it feel more like an inquiry than casual conversation.

you couldn't blame him.

sukuna's near-escape had been catastrophic enough, and now megumi was injured because you hadn't been there on time. still, the timing of the question prickled at you, as though he were peeling back layers you hadn't offered to reveal, and for a fleeting moment, a sense of guilt tangled with unease tightened in your throat.

"the bus was delayed," you answered honestly, "so i texted satoru."

the way megumi's glance had intensified was almost comical. "you thought he'd come on time?" he asked.

"no, but he was better than anyone else," you said, pressing your ear to the door again and remaining unsurprised when sukuna had let out an excited laugh.

"if maki didn't have wushu practice right now, we could've called her," said nobara, who was now standing by the hallway mirror and flattening down her hair to make it appear less dishevelled. "she'd give sukuna a good run for his money."

"you should visit shoko," you suggested, looking down at megumi with raised brows. your ear was still pressed against the door, but it was eerily silent now. you frowned. "she can patch you up," you added wisely.

megumi shook his head. "she'll also ask questions."

he had a good point.

the silence behind the door stretched, unnervingly still. you could hear the occasional creak of floorboards, but no sounds of sukuna's chaotic laughter or the clash of any furniture that had been so familiar only moments ago.

it was almost as if the battle behind the wall separating you from him and satoru had never happened, leaving behind a heavy stillness that made your skin crawl.

frowning, you glanced at the others, noticing they were all waiting with bated breath for some sign from the other side, but nothing came...

not a peep, not a whisper, just that oppressive quiet.

suddenly, the door had swung open, and the faintest scuffling noise echoed in the hallway. you had instinctively taken a step back, eyes widening as satoru reappeared, a half-conscious yuji draped over his shoulder like a ragdoll, his limbs limp and face pale. the sight alone was enough to send a wave of unease through you: you hadn't realized how much you'd been holding your breath until now.

"all right, everyone, move it," satoru called out, his voice as casual as ever. "car's outside and— stop looking so worried! ijichi's not here! c'mon now."

his tone brooked no argument, and you all instinctively began to shuffle towards the exit.

nobara, ever the sceptic, gave a sharp look at the limp form of yuji. "why's he coming with us? can't he just stay in his room and sleep it off?"

satoru's expression was serious for a fraction of a second before his usual smirk returned. "just in case sukuna decides to pop back in for round two," he replied, his words matter-of-fact but laced with an edge that made it clear the situation was far from over.

he pulled out his car keys and clicked it with a smile. "better safe than sorry."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

"you're basically saying i should die."

"i never said that."

"but you're implying it."

"how?"

"making me sit next to him."

the car hummed softly as satoru drove you all through the quiet streets, one hand lazily resting on the steering wheel, the other tapping rhythmically against the window frame. nobara sat beside him in the front passenger seat, her elbow propped up against the door, head tilted towards the window as she basked in her victory of claiming shotgun without competition from yuji, who laid unconscious in the backseat, slumped against you, his head resting heavily on your shoulder as his soft snores filled the cramped space.

sandwiched between him and megumi, you shifted slightly, careful not to wake him while still trying to find a comfortable position for yourself, but it was difficult, knowing that there was a possibility that sukuna could open his eyes at any moment and lunge for your throat.

you were, after all, the one he hated most.

on your other side, megumi sat stiffly, staring out of his own window with a distant expression. the occasional glances he'd cast towards you and yuji  were starting to irritate you: if the way his brows would furrow slightly whenever yuji shifted in his sleep meant anything, then he should have swapped seats with you the second satoru placed yuji on the seat behind nobara.

as your argument with megumi ebbed and flowed, each sharp remark from him met with an equally cutting retort from you, nobara, blissfully detached from the chaos behind her, busied herself with exploring the various compartments in satoru's car. she gleefully unearthed a collection of canned sodas, neatly stored candies, and small bottles of fresh water, shooting the man driving beside her a dirty look at how well organised everything was.

"impressed?" he grinned, a dimple on his right cheek.

"don't get ahead of yourself," she sniffed, annoyed at the way he shrugged, looking pleased with himself.

"stop yelling at me," you had been saying from the back, eyes narrowed at megumi's cold expression, "'cause you're gonna wake him up! and then he's gonna come for me first! what then, huh? you're just gonna sit there and let that happen?"

megumi eyed the canned sodas and shot you a deadpanned look.

"you've got it handled," he said, and at your confused, furrowed brows, he elaborated. "i'll help you out."

he undid his seatbelt and leaned over you, extending an arm in between satoru and nobara to grab a water bottle and retreat, presenting it to you with a bland face.

your gaze hardened.

he felt the need to continue.

"you can drown him with your mermaid powers—"

"i know what you meant!" you snapped, angrily smacking the water bottle out of his hand.

"he's not waking up for hours, y/n," satoru called out loudly, shooting you a glance before keeping his eyes on the road. "stop worrying."

"easy for you to say," you shot back, pinching megumi's thigh as hard as you possibly could. he hissed and peeled your fingers off. "you're not sitting next to him!" your eyes widened suddenly. "wait... what if after you've dropped us all off, he comes back and strangles you from behind?"

satoru laughed at that.

"careful," he chortled, "it might sound like you're worried about me."

"only 'cause if he gets you, he's coming for me next," you scowled, brows furrowed.

the man driving the car met your eyes through the wide mirror. he hadn't put his glasses back on yet, so you could see every bit of amusement dancing around his blue irises.

"don't concern yourself with that. i got it handled," he answered at last, and despite his carefree tone, you still found yourself falling into a pit of worry, head first. "so! you four have no idea who ryomen sukuna is?"

"we know who he is," said nobara, and she maintained a dramatic pause before continuing. "a demon."

satoru shook his head. "that's not what i meant."

the girl in the passenger seat shot him an exasperated glance.

"look him up," satoru added, offering no other thoughts or help except that.

nobara, alert in the front seat, began scrolling through her phone with a determined focus following satoru's suggestion. for a moment, it seemed that nothing had come up, and that satoru was simply messing with the rest of you for fun.

but it was her gasp that made both you and megumi sit up straighter in alert.

"what?" megumi demanded, watching as you leaned forwards to push your front through the gap between satoru and nobara, and then raising your brows in realisation when yuji dropped onto your seat in your absence.

you hurried back and lifted him up again, letting him rest on you with a frightened frown.

"what did you find?" you asked her urgently, your voice low as yuji shifted in his sleep.

"ryomen sukuna..." nobara read out, her brows knitted together as she read about his origins, "was a fearsome demon figure said to have terrorised villages during japan's heian period. known for his monstrous strength and sadistic tendencies, sukuna was infamous for his brutal acts of violence, particularly against women and children. eyewitness accounts described him as a towering figure with crimson eyes, tattoos that writhed across his body, and an insatiable hunger for destruction."

you gulped. "sounds just like him..."

an unsettling silence filled the car, thick and heavy like a fog. the only sound that reached your ears was the low, haunting whistle of the wind as it brushed against the moving vehicle.

"is that it?" said satoru, who sounded disappointed.

"no..." nobara muttered, before heeding the hand satoru had kept on the wheel that gestured at her to continue. "a particularly gruesome aspect of sukuna's legend revolves around his penchant for mutilating women and consuming children. these horrific acts were carried out with the aid of an accomplice: u— u— ura... uraume, a mysterious and cold figure who served as sukuna's cook. stories claim that uraume prepared the remains of sukuna's victims into meals, feeding the demon's appetite for chaos and cementing their role in his legacy of terror."

"wait," you began, brows contorted in fear. it didn't help that every snore yuji let out triggered the memory of sukuna's roar in your mind. "that's the name he used when we first used the ouija board."

"keep going," megumi added icily.

"while some dismiss these accounts as exaggerated folklore, others believe that sukuna was not merely a tale to scare children, but a real and malevolent force that thrived on fear and destruction, leaving a legacy that endures in whispered myths to this day... what the fuck?"

nobara's hands trembled slightly as she lowered the phone, her expression an unsettling mix of irritation and unease. she glanced at satoru, her brows furrowed in a scowl.

"you really had to make me look that up, didn't you?" she snapped, though her voice was tinged with a nervous edge. despite her tough facade, it was clear the vivid descriptions had unsettled her.

you couldn't blame her. only a psycho would he unfazed with what you had just heard.

but satoru only chuckled lightly, one hand still on the wheel.

"oh, come on. you're the ones who decided to play with a ouija board," he said with a lopsided grin. "i'm just saying, if you're going to mess around with stuff like that, at least don't act surprised when you wake up a demon older than the concept of personal hygiene." he gestured vaguely, his tone only half-serious. "rule number one: don't poke the supernatural bear. rule number two: if you do poke it, don't be surprised when it growls."

"this one doesn't growl," you shivered, feeling uneasy. "it roars."

"everyone else gets something less terrifying once, maybe twice," nobara groaned, tucking the strands of her short hair behind her ear. "but the one time we mess around with the board, we end up summoning ryomen sukuna — professional cannibal!"

"eh, not surprising," satoru shrugged, looking way too unbothered with how terrified everyone else seemed in the car. "what? the east asian population in this town is large, specifically japanese people. you don't think that didn't have something to do with the fact that you summoned a demon that originated from japan of all places? even your high school used to specialise in jujutsu."

"why'd they stop?" you asked curiously.

"cultural diversity," satoru answered easily.

"hey," megumi had voiced firmly, his voice cutting across the tense conversation.

satoru's eyes had flitted to his through the mirror, brow raised expectantly.

"you okay, megumi?"

as they continued to converse, you glanced down at yuji and listened to the soft breaths he let out, shuffling uncomfortably. your lips in a straight line, you brushed his hair out of his eyes in disgust. if the fear of sukuna being behind those closed lids hadn't been looming over you, you would not have put up such a fuss: yuji was a peaceful sleeper.

"i don't want you to tell my mom about this," said megumi, his brows knitted together in annoyed certainty.

satoru hummed, looking all too pleased with himself. "you asking me for a favour?" he responded, sounding both smug and curious at the same time.

there was a slight pause, the sounds of yuji's quiet snores and the movement of vehicles outside of the one you had been sitting in filled the space.

"yes," said megumi, and when you turned to glance at him, you found that he looked quite serious (more so than usual).

satoru's smile stretched wider, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he leaned back in his seat.

"a special request from my precious student?" he teased, his voice dripping with playful mockery. at megumi's scowl, satoru's grin only grew, his usual confidence turning into something almost mischievous, as if he'd just caught megumi in a rare, vulnerable moment, but there was a glint in his eyes that suggested a certain pride in knowing that megumi had some form of trust in him — albeit reluctantly. "consider it done! my lips are sealed. you're gonna have to come up with a story for that ankle though."

nobara sat up as satoru had begun entering her neighbourhood.

"ugh, my mom too," she said, sounding desperate. "she probably wouldn't believe you anyway, but she'd find a way to try and get 'compensation' for my non-existent 'trauma' or something... you know how she is..."

you did know how nobara's mom was: a nice woman, who cared deeply about her daughters, but had a hunger for money that even toji could not compete with.

and satoru knew that like no one else...

"yeah, you've got nothing to worry about, i'm not going anywhere near that woman," he grumbled, before shooting the girl sitting next to him with a glance that was meant to be apologetic, but looked like anything but. "no offence, nobara."

"none taken," she sighed, for all of you knew how her mother would shamelessly flirt with the white-haired male for his money. it was both amusing and disgusting to watch (satoru found it horrifying, even if he did seem flattered the first time around).

then, his eyes flicked to you in the rearview mirror, catching your gaze with a certain glint of amusement. he studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before his lips curled into a smirk and he shifted in his seat, clearly enjoying the unease he was about to stir like the man-child he was.

"you're not gonna ask me to keep it from m/n?"

you stared at him, deadpanned. "she literally would not care."

"fair point," he nodded. "what about your dad?"

"the signal in antarctica is bad," you responded easily. "and also, don't stress that man out. he already has to deal with angry polar bears."

there was a challenge in satoru's gaze, as if he found amusement in seeing how you'd react, how you'd handle the weight of being almost blackmailed by him.

"didn't know you were such a snitch," you commented sourly. "well... snitches get stitches."

"you're gonna need stitches with that mark on your forehead," said satoru, and your hand had instinctively reached up to rub at your head where sukuna had hit you.

"it's fine 'cause megumi's gonna snitch me up."

"no i won't."

"what the hell, porcupine?"

"let me get this straight," satoru interrupted, preventing another round of arguments between you and the grumpy boy sitting next to you, "you kids have been dealing with ryomen sukuna for an entire year and didn't think to tell anyone?"

"how was that conversation meant to go?" said nobara, before her voice raised an octave as she continued. "'hey, mrs itadori! we need help 'cause your son gets possessed by an ancient demon every month on the twenty-ninth and has the literal potential to kill anything in its vicinity!' i mean, who would believe us?"

satoru gawked. "me!"

"yeah..." she said, looking exhausted, "that's not a good thing..."

satoru continued as though he hadn't heard her. "you guys messed around with a ouija board, but i'm the reckless one."

"i have a headache," you groaned, rubbing your temple with a pained expression.

megumi glanced down at his injured ankle, wincing slightly as he flexed it before settling into a frown. his gaze shifted towards you, a scowl forming on his face as though silently reminding you that he had the worse end of this ordeal.

he shifted uncomfortably, clearly still irked about your late arrival and the chaos it had unleashed, not that he planned on voicing that at all.

"that's karma for all those people you lied to about evil entities," said megumi, watching as you sneered at him.

"that was different though!" you declared heatedly. it wasn't like those people from kindergarten would even remember that anyway.

satoru looked back at the both of you as he eased the car into a smooth stop outside nobara's house, a compact, modern two-story home with clean, angular lines and a white-and-grey facade. a narrow path of neatly arranged stone tiles led from the sidewalk to a red-painted front door, framed by simple black lanterns. potted plants flanked the entrance, adding a small touch of warmth to the otherwise minimalistic exterior, while a lone bicycle leaned against the side of the porch. it was nobara's, you silently noticed.

"why was that different?" satoru asked curiously.

you had pulled megumi's ear for his response:

"sukuna hates her."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

megumi found himself seated before his mother in the living room, her figure covering the television behind her, arms folded over her chest.

"you injured your ankle," she began, kind eyes narrowed in suspicion, "by being slammed into during football?"

megumi nodded.

you weren't around, so it would be easier to keep up the act without worrying about pinching your side and silencing you when your lies went too far.

she did not look convinced; megumi remained unsurprised at that. she had always been harder to fool than his father, and called it a sixth sense that, according to her, all mothers had.

"megumi," she sighed, brows contorted in concern. it made him feel bad for lying, but also reminded himself of the fact that she'd be overwhelmed in fit of worry if she ever knew the true reason his ankle had ended up swollen. "this is the, what, third time this has happened now? was it by... what's his name...? todo? was it him?"

it obviously wasn't, but megumi believed that to be a good excuse to go with.

he nodded again; she sighed again.

"the first and second time, i can understand, accidents happen," she said, replacing the bag of peas that she'd kept on megumi's ankle (perched on the coffee table) with another frozen set. the first had become warm now. "but a third time? i'm starting to think he has it out for you."

that wouldn't be against the truth at all, megumi mentally decided to himself with furrowed brows.

he watched as she handled the bag of warm peas with a pout pulling at her lips. it had been times like these that he wished she wasn't so concerned all the time, for it would make lying a whole lot easier.

"can i watch tv now?" he asked, sounding a little more dismissive than he initially intended.

she raised her brows at him.

"you're making a face, megumi," she responded, easily avoiding the question.

megumi had made a move to frown, but found that he had already been doing it.

he silently cursed himself.

"i'm not," he mumbled, averting his gaze and trying to get a good glance at the ice hockey game playing behind her. she only moved her head where his eyes went, pressing.

"you are," she said, smiling. "if y/n was here, she'd agree. ah, where is she anyway? i feel like it's been years since i've seen you two in the same room."

"friday —"

"aside from friday dinners," she cut across him with a raised brow.

without meaning to, he found his face mindlessly deepening his default scowl. he immediately softened his expression, but it had been too late, she'd already spotted it.

"there it is!" she pointed at him, accusatory. "what's got my son in a mood?"

megumi tried his hardest to maintain a neutral expression, but it proved to be more difficult than he expected.

her eyes never did not leave his face as she crossed the short distance between them, watching as he tensed immediately, the scowl slipping away into something more guarded, more composed, as though retreating behind an invisible wall of indifference would make her retreat too.

but she didn't.

instead, she crouched beside him, her hand resting gently on his knee, warm even through the fabric of his jeans. her touch was soft but unrelenting, and the concern in her gaze felt heavier now.

"i'm always like this," he said quietly, she had to lean closer to hear him.

"you've lived under my roof for sixteen years," she responded, brushing his hair out of his eyes. he shook her hand off with an exasperated exhale. "i think i'd know when you're acting different... except for that time that you stole a rabbit even though you know i'm allergic —"

"— mom —" he grumbled.

"— and in my defence, i trusted my son," she continued as though she hadn't heard him, her smile still present. "why are you grumpy?"

"i'm not —"

"do you want me to call your dad?"

he scowled, and this time, he did not try to hide it, for the threat was enough to get him talking. it wasn't the fear of toji being called on him, it was the fact that he did not want to have a heart-to-heart with that man out of anyone.

he'd even prefer satoru to him when it came down to therapy sessions.

his mom pursed her lips at him, her expression grave. "did y/n frame you for disturbing mrs daphne's tea party again?"

"no," said megumi, cringing at the memory. he had still yet to get you back for that — the old ladies at the tea party had slandered his name for things he hadn't even thought of doing. "it's not that."

"but it's something to do with her, isn't it?" she pressed with a gentle smile. and at the way he peered back at her, she went on to explain herself. "you made that cute angry face when i asked where she's been."

"how can someone be cute and angry?"

"you'll know when you have kids of your own —"

"mom."

"i'm only joking, megumi," she said, as she took her hand off his knee and placed it beneath her chin, waiting for him to answer her.

he looked away, jaw clenched as he stared at the far corner of the room, anywhere but at her face, hoping she wouldn't wait for his answer, but he knew her... he knew that she would do exactly that.

megumi let out a slow, frustrated breath, the weight of her patient, unwavering gaze pressing down on him like a vice. he clenched his fists for a moment, the tension winding tight in his shoulders before he felt it unravel in resignation. there was no escaping her persistence — not when she had already pieced together more than he was willing to admit. she would wait him out, as always, and the battle of wills would inevitably end with him surrendering, he could tell.

reluctantly, he eased the tight set of his jaw and prepared to give in, knowing there was no point in dragging it out any longer:

"we're both really busy," he admitted, abashed. he was also simultaneously trying to find a way to explain his problem without revealing too much about how your absence had indirectly caused such trouble with sukuna. "i see yuji and nobara in classes. or in between classes. but not — stop staring at me — not y/n."

she hummed. "she lives right across from us," she reminded him thoughtfully. "why don't you go over there now?"

"don't want to right now," he shrugged, and even though, to an outsider, it would sound like he didn't want to see you out of spite, he knew that his mom knew what he meant: you'd just seen each other, both of you had still got mountains of homework to complete. "i'd get distracted. we still have a lot of school work to complete. she has to rehearse her lines for her next play."

he did not mention how you were spending more time with an outsider nowadays than with him. after all, that wasn't what bothered him that much.

it was more about the fact that said person was supposedly interested in his sister, but was spotted with you every other day.

or, that was what megumi had kept replaying like a mantra in his head. he wasn't too sure whether he had successfully convinced himself yet.

"a little time apart doesn't mean anything, megumi," his mom laughed, her voice soothing as he peered back at her expectantly. perhaps her advice was necessary. perhaps he ought to listen. "that time she showed me your timetables at the beginning of the school year, i wasn't worried in the slightest."

megumi remained silent as she went on, for he was starting to really pay attention to her.

"you guys have — what was it? — english together?"

"math," he corrected, trying not to sound bitter, but it must have seeped into his voice because she chuckled as she went on.

"math," she nodded, smiling again. "only math, right? ... you two have remained friends, best friends — don't make that face, you silly boy, you know it's true — you two have been best friends since you were in kindergarten! not many people can say the same, you know? your friendship won't end just because you spend less time in class together."

he knew that, he had concluded to himself. he knew that that wasn't his concern.

how could he figure out what he was so annoyed about if he was unable to fully communicate the whole truth with sukuna, your lateness, etc?

he'd have to tiptoe around the topic.

"what's on your mind?" she asked, and he cursed himself for making his discomfort so obvious.

"you're saying everything would still be the same," he started slowly, unsure whether he'd regret where he was going with this if he completed his sentence, "even if we're friends with other people."

his mother's gaze softened, but her expression remained unreadable, the kind of calm that always left him unsure whether he'd stepped too far or not far enough.

she studied him quietly, her eyes searching his face as though piecing together a puzzle only she could see. the silence stretched just long enough to make him shift uncomfortably, his fingers tapping restlessly against the arm of the couch.

before finally...

she nodded, a slow, thoughtful motion, her lips pressing together in a way that felt both understanding and reserved.

"exactly," she said, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "she makes friends with everyone. she's friends with the... dark-haired child... the one with the side bangs —"

"the emo kid," said megumi, blunt. "malakai."

"megumi," she said firmly, her tone scolding but not unkind. "but yes, him. and don't you go around calling him that."

she smiled at him then, her eyes crinkling warmly at the corners as she leaned back into the couch. her relaxed posture made him feel slightly less on edge, though a flicker of grumpiness still lingered within him, but it was tame, nothing like it had been earlier back at yuji's.

megumi noticed the gentle rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathed, the way her face always seemed to soften when she looked at him. the familiar scent of her jasmine tea filled the space between them, calming in a way that made him feel understood even when words failed.

"smile, megumi," she teased, her voice light and coaxing, but he remained stubbornly impassive, his lips refusing to budge.

she sighed playfully, shaking her head before leaning forwards again, her fingers curling into a mischievous grin.

with another soft chuckle, she placed her pointer fingers on each corner of his mouth, gently tugging his cheeks upwards.

"there you go," she murmured, her grin matching the exaggerated one she had crafted on his face. "see? it's not so bad, you should do it more often!"

he let out a resigned sigh, his eyes half-lidded, but beneath his feigned annoyance, a trace of warmth began to settle in his chest.

her eyes had grown distant, gazing at something behind him. it was when she'd removed her fingers from his face, did he know what — or rather, who — she'd been staring at.

"toji, why are you just standing there?" she asked, her tone playful.

megumi didn't need to turn his head to know his father was simply lingering. when it came to his mother, there was a rare stillness in his posture — a quiet reverence — as if he were gazing at a masterpiece, a painting too precious to touch.

"he doesn't know how to smile because of you," she jokingly accused him, standing up, "so you need to smile too!"

toji averted his gaze, silently unwilling.

she shook her head at him, raising her arms to present her pointer fingers.

"i'll make you smile," she warned him.

"run, dad," megumi grumpily muttered from where he was seated on the couch.

the older man turned away with furrowed brows.

"don't gotta tell me twice," megumi heard him grumble, followed by his mother's rhythmic laughter.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

bonus scene:

there were many things mrs fushiguro had seen in the short time she'd been married to toji for.

she'd seen him yell (never at her), she'd seen him fight (never with her), and she'd seen him curse (never to her).

but she had never seen him in such a fit of rage, that he could only fold his muscly arms over his chest and resort to a quiet stillness, choosing tense tranquility over violence.

although, the way his jaw clenched had said otherwise.

she sat on the arm of the long couch as he stared down the lineup that started with a scowling suguru, a frowning satoru, a glaring megumi, and a blissfully unaware you.

honestly, she thought this was a bit much. you and megumi were barely even seven. so what if you had blindly followed the older two in believing that toji was cheating on her? you were kids. being influenced by older people was natural.

apologies were necessary, she understood that much, but lining each of you up with apology letters like you were part of some military?

that was a lot.

toji started off with the young man who had his hair in a dishevelled man-bun. dishevelled, for toji had shaken both him and his best friend till she had stepped in to stop him.

"go," her husband demanded.

suguru was halfway between rolling his eyes before he caught the sharp glare the buff man before him sent.

"i'm sorry for accusing you of cheating on your wife," he said, looking down at his lined sheet of paper with exhaustion. he then looked up and began improving. "and i also apologise on behalf of the people whose apology letters won't be any good —"

"dude," satoru interrupted, looking offended. the sight only made her smile, especially when her eyes moved down the line and you and megumi had been sporting the exact same expression, the three of you collectively staring at suguru in disgust. "the hell are you implying?"

"you apology letter is literally blank, satoru —"

"— i like to improv!"

"shut up!" toji snapped, taking everyone by surprise. "both o' you." he glanced at suguru with narrowed eyes. "whatever, you're done, monkey."

megumi's mom found herself watching with interest as suguru gritted his teeth. she still did not understand what the hatred for monkeys was about.

"you —" toji continued, glaring at satoru, who was scratching the back of his neck, looking confused. "you're next."

this would be interesting...

she watched as satoru cleared his throat with theatrical flair, holding up his paper as if preparing for a grand speech. he scanned the page, squinting at god-knows-what, seeing as she (and everyone else in the room) had been well aware that the paper was blank, before glancing at toji, whose glare grew sharper by the second.

and under the crushing weight of that look, satoru's bravado faltered. his fingers crumpled the paper into a ball with a slow, deliberate motion.

tossing it aside, he straightened up, forcing a grin as he placed one hand over his heart.

"toji fushiguro," he began with exaggerated sincerity, "i deeply regret the events of today, and i humbly offer my —"

"you little shit —" toji growled, his eyes narrowing further.

satoru's grin stiffened. "right. sorry. freestyling it is."

if his glasses had been taken off indoors, she would have been able to read his real thoughts through his eyes. instead, she was made to sit back and guess, watching the events play out before her like a sitcom.

it was unpredictable.

especially when it came to her husband and the godfather of their son.

"i'm... sorry."

toji was not happy with that:

"for?" he pressed, head tilted expectantly.

satoru shot him a disgusted look:

"the hell you mean 'for'? i apologised —"

toji turned to look back at his wife with a scary level of calmness.

"i'm holding myself back —" he told her through gritted teeth.

"okay, toji —" she began, trying to be the peacemaker but failing miserably.

satoru let out a loud groan, running a hand through his hair tiredly.

"fine," he said, exasperated. "i'm sorry... for accusing you of cheating on this gorgeous, beautiful, stunning, breathtaking, ethereal —"

toji instinctively stepped forward. "you tryin' to take my wife?"

"no," satoru scowled, "i'm married —"

"he's not," suguru coughed.

satoru recoiled dramatically. "whose side are you even on?"

toji clenched his jaw, his patience wearing thin as satoru's antics grated on his nerves. his eyes had darkened with a sharp, warning glare, fists curling at his sides as if holding himself back from throwing a punch.

his wife watched as the tension radiated from him like heat, his broad frame stiffening as he muttered under his breath about what he'd do if satoru kept running his mouth.

"anyway, i'm sorry for accusing you of cheating on her... not that you could find anyone better," satoru continued, his left dimple becoming more prominent the longer he grinned. "she's gorgeous. she's amazing. you hit the jackpot with her —"

"erm... thank you, satoru?" she smiled, visibly and audibly confused. "i... don't know if i should take that as a compliment, or..?"

"it's a compliment!" satoru assured her, his grin toothy and bright. "from the first most handsome person in the world to the second prettiest in the world."

"what the—" toji began, looking disgusted. he grunted, looking down at his own son with a glare. "fine. megumi —"

megumi looked up at his dad with a scowl. his mom could only bite back a laugh at his expression, a carbon copy of the man she married.

"— i didn't do anything wrong," he snapped.

stubborn like him, too.

toji took a deep breath in, and everyone in the room glanced at megumi, expectant.

but megumi had seemed firm on his stance, stagnant, no chance of moving. you were staring at him like he'd grown two heads.

she should have seen this coming, to be fair. unlike everybody else, megumi had not been holding an apology letter to begin with.

"if you don't start apologising, now, boy," toji threatened, his fists clenched.

perhaps now was a good time to step in:

"toji, he's just a —"

"smart brat is what he is," he interrupted grumpily, glaring down at his son. "apologise."

megumi let out a long, exaggerated sigh, the weight of frustration pressing his small shoulders down as if the air itself had turned heavy. his dark eyes slid shut briefly, and when he opened them again, they were filled with a mix of irritation and reluctant obedience, a reflection of his father's unrelenting will.

the sigh wasn't just a breath, his mom noticed with an apologetic glance — it was the embodiment of every ounce of exasperation he felt, a drawn-out gesture that spoke louder than words, as though he were releasing the burden of dealing with his family's antics all at once.

"fine," he grumbled, taking her by surprise. it usually took a bit more probing before megumi was made to bend at anyone's will. "i'm sorry for following them around even though i didn't do anything wrong."

"YOU —"

"my turn!" you beamed excitedly.

"oh here we go," satoru mumbled under his breath, being shot a warning glance by the woman shifting on the arm of the couch, her brows furrowed.

toji regarded a glaring megumi with one irate look — one that read 'this isn't finished' — before glancing down at you, the glittery strap of one of your sandals left undone like the messy child you were.

where toji found it to be a headache, his wife found it cute. she'd always wanted a girl at some point in her life.

"okay, so!" you began, clearing your throat dramatically. your little fingers had clenched your apology letter hard enough to crease every part you touched.

you took a deep breath in, before noticing all the eyes that had been placed on you, and then began looking around anxiously, as though everyone was staring at something behind you instead.

"what's the delay?" toji grunted, impatient.

"everyone's keeping on — everyone's keeping on looking at me!" you said, fidgeting where you stood.

"it's 'keeps on'," megumi corrected you icily.

"you better shut your mouth," toji started on him, only pausing when his wife scolded him for toeing the line that determined what was too far and what was not.

"it's — it's fine!" you smiled, your baby cheeks looking soft enough to squish. she had to refrain from doing so. you were in the middle of your apology, after all. "i'm gonna just close my eyes!"

and so you did.

you closed your eyes, your hands still clutching the sheet you were meant to be reading from, before you realised your mistake.

"'m sorry for... er..." you hesitated, your brows furrowed with how tight you had closed your lids. "wait! where did my apolology letter go?"

"'apology'," megumi had corrected yet again.

satoru snorted. "open your eyes, genius — ow!"

suguru had kicked his foot.

"y/n, honey, open your eyes," mrs fushiguro told you politely.

"that's what i just sai— ow, suguru, cut it out!"

with a deep breath, you opened your eyes and glanced down.

realisation had dawned as you spotted the crumpled apology letter clenched tightly in your small hands. a sheepish laugh escaped your lips, soft and warm, as if even you couldn't believe your own antics.

toji groaned in growing impatience, rubbing his temple with an exaggerated sigh that only made the moment funnier to his wife, who had hid her smile behind her hand, trying to maintain decorum for your sake.

determined, you squared your shoulders and lifted your chin.

"i know what to do!" you declared brightly, clutching the letter with newfound resolve. "i'm just — i'm just gonna turn around 'cause no one will see me!"

without waiting for anyone's input, you spun on your heels to face the television, ready to deliver your heartfelt apology with dramatic flair and a focus all your own.

only to be submerged by a fit of giggles, turning around with a wide grin.

"what now?" toji snapped angrily.

"turning around — turning around is so funny!" you laughed, before choking on your own laughter at the grave expression on the older man's face. "okay, okay! calm down... angry man!"

you finally started on your apology.

only for it to go absolutely no where...

in other words (she hated to admit it) but the same reaction satoru had been scolded for earlier was the same one that was found to be right.

you were talking just for the sake of talking, the apology going no where...

"i'm sorry," you started, eyes drifting down your lined paper, "that i — that i listened to the two old mans next to — next to megumi fushigo right now. my mommy says to listen to older people! so — so i listened to older people! but, toji the angry man says that — that he will crush satoru and suguru like a ladybug! and even though my mommy says i like ladybugs, i don't want to keeping on being shouted to! so now i have to say sorry because i have to be safe from toji the angry man —"

"right, that's enough," toji growled, waving a hand at you.

it seemed that just like his wife, he did not seem to know what to make of this apology.

all he knew was that you talked way too much.

"her mouth moves before her brain does," he said, turning to his wife who sent him a sharp look, one that easily translated to 'be nice!'.

"my — my mommy says —"

suguru leaned closer to his best friend. "either she's a serial liar, or her mom's been lobotomised."

"can i leave now?" asked megumi, looking past his dad and at his mom for her approval.

but before she could respond, toji leaned forwards with a casual grin that didn't quite reach his eyes, cutting off her words before they could form, but there was a sharpness in his movement, like a blade waiting to strike.

"no," he said, his darting from you to satoru and back again. "no, i'm not satisfied yet. this bastard's still grinning —"

you turned to megumi with a frown. "what's a bastard?"

his mom stood up almost immediately, but megumi had already begun his explanation:

"when a man and his mistress —"

"megumi!" she interrupted, alert.

the two of you looked up at her, one of you wide-eyed, the other with narrowed ones. she hurriedly ushered her son away from you, glancing at toji, suguru, and satoru all the while.

"well this has been nice," she mumbled, trying to smile despite her slight irritation towards this entire ordeal, "and i appreciate the apologies, but toji, let's wrap this up now.

toji's eyes lit up with a glimmer of mischief, his grin spreading slowly as though a particularly devious idea had just taken root in his mind. his gaze flickered between satoru and you, and the sharp arch of his brow hinted at a plan already forming, a dangerous sort of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth as he leaned back slightly, the picture of a man who had just found the perfect way to make things even more chaotic — and far more entertaining — for his own amusement.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the door had clicked shut behind him with an ominous finality, and satoru stared at it in horrified disbelief, hands pressed flat against the wooden surface as if sheer willpower could force it open again.

his shoulders sagged with defeat as your voice filled the small, stifling space, a rapid-fire stream of chatter that had no clear beginning or end. you were halfway through a story about some incident involving your dad, a rogue basketball, and uncle ogi's furious tirade, and satoru groaned quietly.

his fingers twitched at his temples as if rubbing them would make it stop. he glanced at you, half-distraught, half-bewildered, mouthing a silent help me to the empty room, realising there would be no escape.

"— and my mommy says we're just keeping on staying here!" you added at last.

but you weren't done; you tugged at the fabric of his jeans.

"wanna play i spy with my little eye?"

he banged on the door angrily.

"get me out of here!" he begged desperately, and when you had gone on a long tangent about why every single grey-haired person on the planet was a long lost relative of satoru's, satoru found himself nearly detaching the door knob.

"i will break this door down!" he threatened loudly.

but the only sounds that could be heard behind it were the calm chatter between the fushiguros, and the little fushiguro who had settled on sitting against the other side of the door to correct your english where necessary.

even suguru had left him behind (which he should have seen coming, ever since the kfc incident).

satoru would never accuse toji of cheating on his wife ever again.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

notes: i lowkey hate the way this chapter turned out lmao, so it'll probably undergo some editing, idk. i wrote it in a rush, specifically for my two talented artists. i hope you guys enjoyed it anyway! <3 i meshed a little plot AND filler so you get the best of both worlds! :)

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next chapter :)

taglist (send an ask or comment to be added):

@1l-ynn @shaigimo @shuupiu @nappingnai @xbarrjallenx @reinaswrld @anintrovertedechoe @momoewn @polarbvnny @lailuv21 @cherriee-ee @hfuensiekabhsufnd @k0z3me @reocidal @jelly-fsh @anonymity-222 @blubearxy @jamypam @thelost-child @anotherwriternamedclara @ist0leurc0ffee @spookypeacesandwich @jvpit3rr @2ukika @zzn-li @biancaackerman

© tojiscrack (previously ack4rwoman)

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

if you enjoyed my writing, i’d really appreciate it if you tipped me — tumblr no longer has the tip function, so maybe here in my tip jar :)

[filomiya]

PARTY CANDLES ! – prod. filomiya

characters – mualani , kinich , xilonen , citlali , mavuika ( takes place after the 5.3 aq !! )

THEM , when its your birthday ( bullet headcanons based on their birthday messages )

notes : ITS MY BIRTHDAY CHAT CAN YOU BELIEVE IT 6th january wowowowo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! this is very self indulgent if you cant tell but i might do a fontaine version of this later if i feel like it or continue with the other natlan characters or mayb. with vbs WHATEVER ill see!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! might be ooc plz correct me if theyre ooc .. . . . . . .. . . .. . . . . . . .

MUALANI

planned her surprise one week in advance.

but how could she not? shes your partner, afterall! and never expect the least from mualani, she will ALWAYS do the most!!

booked the best restaurant for you, making sure most of the dishes would be liked by both you and the guests. also threw in a few of your favourite desserts, but she kept insisting on making those herself along with the cake… where does she find the time!?

you had the party take place from noon to night, living it to the fullest, next to her ( and the other guests i GUESS. ) but the inevitable happened – exhaustion. on your part, atleast. mualani still had a surprise in store for you. and what is better than a reserved hot spring for the both of you after so much activity?

this was a much more relaxed way to celebrate the afterparty, but a little time between you two doesnt hurt anyone! she’d end the day with a kiss, and a content ‘happy birthday.’

KINICH

he had planned two surprises total. not more, not less.

after the usual small talk he’d ensue, kinich would remind ajaw of the conversation they had hours prior. thankfully, you were one of the humans the almighty dragon liked, so it didnt take long for him to give in.

turning into his actual dragon form ( and holding back some complaints ), you and your partner hopped onto his back for a sky stroll across the landscapes of natlan. it was filled with casual chatting, ajaw occasionally joining.

while you expected to be brought back to the place you were before, the dragon instead dropped you two off on a high, secluded cliff with the best view to the stadium. laid there was a picnic blanket, and you almost called kinich a sap.

truly, one of the best people you couldve spent your birthday with.

XILONEN

you thought youd get special treatment? well, you thought well.

usually, she’d get her friends actual useful gifts ( allegedly, in her eyes ) like a set of tools, or something for their hobbies, because in what situation could sappy presents be functional? if you prefer sentimental value over functional things, be her guest!

but you were her fully fledged partner. no WAY she could gift you JUST tools.

being the blacksmith of the children of the echoes, she has access to some of the best stones out there. you bet she’d search all about birthstones and use yours into making some of the most refined jewelry. i could see her also do a bouquet of handi-picked flowers on your preferred colours. paper wrapping included!!

all of that combined with a reservation to the restaurant youve been gushing about… if that isnt special treatment, then what is?

CITLALI

at her age, she wouldnt have thought she would find someone, let alone friends, or someone like you!

so she didnt bat an eye to gift giving, mostly. occasionally, for whenever it was one of her people’s birthday, she’d offer the usual gift card or blessings. but with you in the picture now, she doesnt know what to do!!

her first thought was to give you some volumes from her light novels collection, which she did proceed with, but she had to think of a plan B. no way she could turn to her grandson, for all he’d have to offer is his finest pick of vegetables…

and before she knew it, your birthday came. so all she had to offer were the novels. it was so underwhelming in her eyes… but thank god you reassured her than even only drinking with her was enough.

MAVUIKA

for her, small and thoughtful gifts are always the go-to.

something motivational, that you can look back to and reminisce about – but you didnt expect her to gift you a small notebook. correction, actually – a small album. it was filled with photos you took through your time together, and letters she poured her feelings into. 

it was obvious it took her sweet time to put it together, probably did it during her time off as an occupation. if you asked her about it, you wouldve found out your guess wasnt far off. instead, you thanked her in her own way – whether it be words, physical affection or acts of service (on your own birthday tho..??) 

another thing mavuika would offer is a delightful night stroll with her motorbike. cliche x2, i know, but not before serving some of the best cake she had baked for you! dont ask her where or how, or do, do whatever you want…. (xilonens house.)

just hold onto her if she decides to pick the speed up as a way to wake you from your daydreams.

filomiya : any acts of plagiarism of my works are strictly prohibited. credits to the divider creators.

[angstywaifu]

Not Enough - Liam Mairi

Request: Would you maybe do a soft smut slash angst with liam where reader gets hurt in a challenge and storms off belittling herself and getting so down because her parents would have expected more from her and it all comes to a head when liam runs after her and she blows up on him screaming about how stupid she is and how she isn't enough and liam like shuts her up by kissing her and showing her that she is enough and how amazing she is - @elliot-rain

Masterlist | Support Me

The impact of landing on the mat runs through me as I lie there stunned, the pain in my leg barely noticeable. Shit. They were going to be disappointed me if they found out I got hurt and lost. I could already hear the lecture in my head.

”How could you lose?”

”You could do so much better.”

”You have a family name and reputation to uphold.”

I push myself up as best I can, ignoring the hand my opponent holds out to me. I couldn’t show weakness. I needed to be strong, even as my leg screamed at me to take the help. I limp off the mat, the crowd of riders parting to let me through.

”You ok?” Violet asks as I pass her.

I stop and turn to look at her, doing my best to hide my grimace. “Yeah, just going to go rest for a bit. I’ll be good.”

She purses her lips, but eventually nods at me. She clearly sees through me. She always does when one of us gets hurt. She knows what pain is like better than any of us, so it’s hard to hide from her when we are in pain. Before she can stop me, I turn around and do my best to walk out of the room. Now my challenge was done, I didn’t technically need to stay, meaning I had at least an hour till my next class. An hour to think over my mistakes, to explain them to my parents once they found out and no doubt demanded to see me somehow. For any other rider, losing on the mat would just be a bad day or their opponent just being better than them. But that wasn’t an option for me. My entire life I was taught to be perfect. No mistakes, no errors. Mistakes were punished, a lesson that they were not to be made again. I had a legacy to uphold.

I’m too lost in my thoughts to hear the rushed footsteps behind me until movement out of the corner of my eye startles me, causing me to jump and aggravate my leg, a pained hiss escaping my lips through gritted teeth.

”Shit, what happened?” Liam asks hurriedly as his eyes scan over me, his hands resting on my arms as he steadies me.

”A mistake, that's what happened.” I say as I avert my eyes from his.

I see him furrow his brow out of the corner of my eye, clearly confused at my words. “Mistake? Things happen all the time in challenges. It was nothing. You’ll come back better and stronger next week.”

I shake my head, squeezing my eyes shut as tears threaten to break free as my emotions bubble over the edge. “To me it’s not nothing” I mutter out, part of me hoping he doesn’t hear, but I know he does.

”It is nothing Y/N. No one in there is going to care you lost a challenge. It happens.” He almost pleads to me, and I know if I open my eyes his blue eyes will be soft and caring.

”It’s not the people in there I’m worried about.” I say as I open my eyes, a tear rolling down one of my cheeks.

Liam reaches out to wipe it away, but I knock his hand away before limping over to one of the few cut outs in the wall, looking out into the empty Rotunda.

”I come from a family where I have certain expectations to meet. An image to live up to. Nothing but the best is tolerated. Anything less than perfect is….”

”Is what?” Liam's voice soft but demanding from behind me.

”Punished.” I say as I look at him over my shoulder, watching the colour from his face drain. “Anything less than perfect, than one hundred percent isn’t tolerated.”

”You’re safe here, they can’t pun-”

”Yes they can!” I yell as I turn on Liam, wincing as my leg protests at the sudden movement. “I am not safe behind these walls. They provide no protection from what they will do if they find out how stupid I was to let myself lose! They provide no protection from being told I am not good enough. That if anything I do is less than perfect will never be enough. I’m not en-”

Liam’s lips crash against mine, cutting off my frantic words. The heat of his kiss swallows the air from my lungs, silencing every self-deprecating thought spiralling in my mind. For a moment, I’m too stunned to move, too caught off guard to process what’s happening. But then the warmth of his hands, one cupping my cheek and the other steadying my trembling arm, grounds me.

The world falls away—the walls, the fear, the doubts—all of it fades into the background. All I can focus on is him: the way his touch feels steady, the way his kiss feels like a promise, fierce yet tender, as if he’s trying to piece me back together with every brush of his lips.

When he pulls back, his forehead presses against mine, and his breath fans across my face. His hands don’t leave me; instead, they grip tighter, as if afraid I’ll shatter the moment he lets go.

“You’re enough,” he says softly, his voice rough but resolute. “You’ve always been enough. Stop doubting yourself, because I won’t let you tear yourself apart anymore.”

I blink up at him, my chest heaving from more than just the kiss. “Liam, I—”

“No,” he interrupts, his voice firm now. “Listen to me. You are stronger than you think. You’ve faced so much, and you’re still standing. You are more than good enough, and no one—no one—gets to make you feel otherwise. Not even you.”

Tears sting my eyes, but for once, they’re not from pain or frustration. They’re from the raw, unrelenting belief in his voice, in his gaze as he looks at me like I’m worth fighting for.

“I’m scared,” I whisper, my voice breaking.

“I know,” he says, his thumb brushing a stray tear from my cheek. “But you don’t have to do this alone. Not anymore. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Something inside me shifts, loosens, as his words sink in. For the first time in what feels like forever, the weight pressing on my chest lightens, just a little. And for now, that’s enough.

[thevoidstaredback]

One would think that looking for a portal into The Afterlife would be an easy endeavor. You find out what it’s supposed to look like, what energy it puts off, who would have a motive, track them and/or it down, fight and shut down the whole project, call it a day.

There’s one problem with this sequence of events, though. Phantom won’t tell anyone what it looks like, nor will he share what kind of energy it puts off. He’s the only one to have seen a man-built portal into the Realms, so no one else knows what to look for. Any questions had been shut down the second they were asked. This was information Phantom was keeping close to his chest.

After three hours of frustrated discussion, the meeting room emptied. Tensions were rising high due to everyone’s lack of ability to do anything until Phantom gave them the information they needed.

Well, almost everyone left.

Nightwing sat beside Phantom. “Y’know, Constantine said that I’m your favorite bat.”

A few moments of silence sat between them. “You are, yeah.”

He preened at the confirmation. “Oh? Why’s that?”

Phantom chuckled lightly to himself. “I doubt you’d remember, even if I told you.”

“Well, now you have to tell me! If only so that I can make sure my siblings never try to take this spot from me.”

A smile. “I was twenty-two when I first went to Gotham. You were still newish. Twelve, I think?”

If the time seemed weird compared to what Nightwing knew, he didn’t mention it. “Oh? B would’ve been about that age, too.”

Phantom blushed a light green. “Don’t tell him, but I had the biggest crush on him back then.”

That got Nightwing to laugh again. “Is that why you went to Gotham?”

“No. Me, my friends, and my little sister were playing Truth or Dare. I was dared to wander around Gotham without using any powers or getting caught by Batman.”

“You took the dare?”

“Yep. Flew into the city and started to just walk. That’s when I met Lady Gotham, actually. I told her that I wanted to play a game with Batman and Robin and she let me in. She told me to be careful and that I’d lose before wishing me luck.”

“What a vote of confidence.”

“Right? Anyway, I got an hour into the impromptu game of hide and seek that you guys didn’t know you were playing before I spotted you.”

Nightwing leaned his head on his hand, his elbow on the table. “Did my uniform colour give me away?”

“Nope,” Phantom shook his head, “The shadows nearby started moving, so I ran. Ended up somewhere in The Narrows, I think. Anyway, The Lady laughed at me when I told her how scary you guys are, and then you popped outta fucking nowhere and scared the shit outta me!”

Nightwing was laughing again, a bit harder this time. “I think-I think I remember something like that! I was just about twelve when that happened. You were so weird!”

“Me?! You’re the one who started talking about what kind of hunters humans are! I swore to never go back to that city after that.”

“Ha! That sounds like something I would’ve said!” He allowed himself a moment to calm down. “I don’t remember you having white hair, though.”

Phantom shrugged. “That’s because I went as a civilian.”

Okay, so Nightwing met Phantom as a civilian before the rest of his family. That’s another point to him! Though, “You came back to Gotham a bit ago..?”

A sigh. “The House of Mysteries likes to drop me in inconvenient places if I don’t have a set destination in mind. Before I opened the door, I was telling Deadman that I wasn’t going to tell him about my first trip to Gotham no matter how much he pushed. Next thing I know, it’s the middle of the day in Gotham, New Jersey, and I’ve got vigilantes surrounding me on all sides.”

Nightwing cringed back. “Yeah…sorry about that.We were going to ambush Signal on his patrol with lunch, and then we saw some guy walk out of a door that hadn’t ever been there before.” He paused. “How’d you get out of Gotham, actually? We were chasing you, and then the graveyard gates shut before we could get in. We staked it out, but the gates didn’t open for another day.”

Phantom rubbed the back of his neck, his embarrassed blush returning. “I asked the Graveyard Spirits to lock you guys out long enough for me to get away. I left them a shiny on a rock before I left via magic.”

“The door thing, right?”

“Yep.”

“Will you teach me how to do that?”

“Maybe some other time.”

It was quiet for another few minutes, neither peaking up. It was comfortable, though it got less so as it dragged on. Nightwing had more questions he wanted to ask and Phantom was afraid of what they might be.

Phantom sighed, deep, from his diaphragm. “Ask your questions.”

Nightwing hesitated a moment more reluctant to say anything. Finally, quietly, he asked, “This seems like a really sensitive topic for you, the portal. Can I ask why?”

He shrunk in on himself more. “You have a lot more tact than Red Robin, I’ll give ya that.”

Nightwing covered his mouth to try and conceal the small gasp that escaped him. “It has to do with how you died, right?” He shook his head. “No, don’t worry about answering that. I’ll get B and the others off your back about this. We’ll find a different solution.”

The door opened, allowing Constantine and Deadman into the room. They sat across from Phantom and Nightwing, but didn’t say anything. They just sat there, offering silent support.

How did they know?

Phantom didn’t want to share his story. Death, ironically enough, is a sensitive topic for the dead/undead/undying. It drags memories to the surface, painful memories more often than not. Memories and phantom pains and echoes of cries.

Even just the passing thought on a bad day makes him feel the electricity killing him, the portal reviving him. He hears his own screams, drowned out by the humming of an entire world opening up on top of and through him.

He can’t stop the tears falling from his eyes.

It’s…it’s been a long time since he told anyone.

Had he ever told anyone?

Sam and Tucker had been with him when he died. None of them ever told Jazz, but she knew because she was his big sister. Dani knew. Dan knew. Vlad and Valerie and Wes all knew. He told mom and dad, but not the whole story. Never the whole story. Constantine and Deadman and the entire Justice League and affiliates all knew he was dead, even a little bit of what happened after, but he hadn’t told them how.

Red Robin knew, but Phantom hadn’t told him.

Was he ready to tell people? Was he ready for them to know? It had been so long since it had happened, but he could still feel the electricity as though it was happening all over again.

“I was fourteen when I died,” he whispered into the stale air of the meeting room, “My parents had dedicated their entire lives to Ecto-ology, the study of ghosts. In college they and a friend of theirs started working on a way to get into the place they called the Ghost Zone. Vlad got sick before they could even finish the blueprints and had to be quarantined at the hospital. When I was fourteen, they finished building it.

“I love my parents, but for being geniuses, they were really dumb sometimes, y’know? They’d built this thing up, eight feet tall, just as wide, and ten feet deep. It was an amazing feat of science and engineering, but when they plugged it in, it didn’t turn on. They left the lab, not bothering to unplug the thing.

“Anyway, I told my best friends about the failed portal and they insisted on going down to the lab to see it. Who was I to tell them ‘no’?” An unwilling victim. “Sam dared me to go inside. And I was fourteen, so backing out of a triple-dog-dare is like making a fool of yourself before a king’s court! So, I went into the portal.

“Somehow, it was darker on the inside despite work lights lining the floor and ceiling. Mom and dad were never huge on lab safety… The one flaw in their blueprints- the one reason that the portal hadn’t turned on, was because the switch had been built inside the dumb thing. I tripped and the next thing I know, I’m on the other side of the room, somehow both dead and alive.”

It felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest. A small, barely noticeable weight, but he felt lighter nonetheless.

He’d obviously left out details, not even entertaining the idea of telling them how it felt to die.

Deadman’s voice was rough in the room, only barely louder than Phantom’s had been. “There are legends told throughout the Realms about creatures who walk the precarious balance between Life and Death, known collectively as Osiris in the Realms, though humans call them Halfas. Throughout Time, each individual has earned a title, a name to be called. Phantom, King of the Infinite Realms and Her people, was given the title Anubis.”

“So,” Nightwing asked softly, “Are all the gods these..Halfas?”

“No,” the ghost shook his head, “The gods are a different race entirely. They simply share names as titles.”

Constantine looked Phantom in the eye. “Phantom, we need to know what we’re looking for.”

He didn’t want to. He really didn’t want to think about this anymore.

“I’ll draw out the finished product, but it might’ve been changed after such a long time.”

“Speaking of time,” Constantine jumped in again as the ghost went to get some paper and pens, “I’m a bit confused about your timeline of events.”

“Oh?”

“You told me that just about a hundred years have passed since you last saw your Fraid.”

“I did.”

“Huh? But, you said we first met when I was twelve.”

“That’s also true.”

“Things aren’t lining up, kid.”

This time, his sigh was more put-upon and less world-weary. “I told you that Time is weird in the Realms. I have existed in Time for thirty-eight years. My Fraid has existed in Time for a hundred-thirty-eight years. The town I grew up in sits a little to the left of the rest of the world’s Time, meaning that it moved slower than you guys.”

“That…I still can’t…what?”

“Don’t focus too hard on it, it’ll just give you a bigger headache.”

Part 17 Part 19

[fiendishartist2]

its past midnight and here i am planning a sweater i have neither the materials nor funds to make

[kayvsworld]

i always forget i have Healthcare System Anxiety until i have to interact with The Healthcare System and immediately just start screaming internally for days

[bookworm-2692]

And here we are everyone! The final update to the Life Tracker with all the chaos at the end! Apologies for the delay here - most of my timing notes were done by Sunday, and then the graphs were complete by the middle of Tuesday, and now it’s Thursday morning. I have no good excuse this time, but here it is!

Previous posts: Session 7, Session 6, Session 5, Session 4. As usual, below the cut is close ups and data and commentary!

There were 37 deaths I counted this session up to Pearl’s permadeath, and then Impulse died twice more before some off-camera life exchanges occurred (Scott showed the first two, so they’re here with their timings, but then after that no one showed when Impulse gained an hour (so got two more kills), Martyn lost an hour (so died once), and Scott gained half an hour (so got a kill), and as you see something doesn’t add up and given that immediately after they get down to their final life I have elected to ignore it and just adjust the time anyway). Then there are the three consensual lava deaths, and then the three final deaths... so there were 45 on camera deaths this session, plus some extra off camera time shuffling.

I actually missed two deaths from Session 7 as well - I had them in my notes so my number of deaths matched what should be, but I somehow forgot to put them in the excel data, so I put them back this week. They were when Impulse fell and Cleo got the kill credit, as when as the Grian double kill on Bdubs and Cleo. I have also removed the 30 minutes I awarded Bdubs for his wolf killing Scar so that he could permadie at the correct time - though I left the 30 minutes Bdubs got for killing Joel in self-defence as a Yellow, as Cleo’s timer shows that she still had this, so I wanted consistency there.

Close up of Sessions 6-8 together

Close up of Sessions 7-8 together

Here you can see all the permadeaths together! It was far harder to label these lines than when players were alive and in a nice orderly line, so I hope this is fairly clear. And a close up of Session 8 alone:

Crazy how Pearl was briefly the one with most time, and Impulse’s habit of keeping his mouth shut about his time served him well - two hours into the session he had 4.5 hours, while Scott and Martyn were both down to 2 hours (and Grian on 1 and Pearl and Etho on half an hour). Scott wasn’t kidding when he said he stole all of Impulse’s time there.

I also decided to acknowledge Martyn’s /kill at the end there, and made him lose the rest of his time there.

Another interesting thing is the fact that Etho and Pearl’s mutual killing of each other, where they both net lost half an hour, didn’t actually effect their final placements. They were on under half an hour when they died, but if they hadn’t killed each other, they still would have been under an hour, and still would have permadied. Grian was definitely on the most time at his permadeath, and BigB got so damn close to it before being saved. If it had taken Mean Gills + TIES even a minute longer to find them and kill them, BigB would have died then (and Pearl may not have lost as much time as quickly as she did).

I do want to acknowledge that Pearl did gain an hour from permakilling Cleo. Because it was PvP, the half hour got automatically added. However, because Cleo permadied, her death message took up the entire screen and completely hid the message telling Pearl she gained 30 minutes, so Pearl then gave herself another 30 minutes. Which means she may have otherwise died when Etho pushed her, but I’m willing to let it slide - Martyn also gained 30 minutes for an unknown reason back between Session 3 and Session 4 that was never acknowledged or removed. He also never fell below two hours until they agreed to equalise, so it probably didn’t effect anything, but I do want both to be acknowledged here.

I also created the graph for the average time per team again, in two forms.

First: where dead people are included in the average

And the Session 6-8 close up of this

And the Session 7-8 close up

And below is the Session 7-8 close up of the version where dead people are removed from the average

I don’t have much to say here other than I think it’s interesting comparing the two. The first one suppresses how much time Impulse has on account of Skizz and Tango both being dead, but the second one shows it loud and clear.

Now is time for the data screenshots! This session was longer than every session except for the first - they had been averaging around two hours, but this time was an hour and a half. Presumably, this is because at the 2 hour mark, there were still 6 people alive, and three of them had an hour or less to live, and 15 minutes later there were only three but at that point you may as well let it play out.

The first 50 minutes of Session 8:

The next hour and 10 minutes of Session 8:

The final 30 minutes of Session 8:

As usual the red and green boxes indicate deaths and kills. The blue boxes is what I’m using for the “time equalisation” the three of them did off camera. I really tried to work out who would have killed who there but something didn’t work and then I decided it didn’t matter lmao. I did do their three lava deaths separately though because I’m still being anal there.

After doing all that, I finally worked out a better way of zooming in on the graphs, by remembering I can actually force the axes to be smaller, which means more detail can actually be seen. So here those are below.

Life Tracker Session 1-4:

I also finally worked out how to rotate the text boxes because it wasn’t working earlier, and I think it looks so much better there!

Life Tracker Session 5-8:

Here unfortunately the text on the left had to be huge for the spacing to work, but then on the right the text had to be much smaller so I could try to space all the names out at the point of death.

Life Tracker Session 6-8:

I actually made the 6-8 one before the 1-4 or 5-8 ones, so before I worked out the angled text, but I think this still works with just the names at the point of death (the start of the name is at the point of death, unless there’s commas in between and then they’re all at the same point)

Life Tracker Session 7-8:

Lots of little details here! We’re close enough that Tango’s death can separate from Scar and Cleo. You can see vertical lines close together rather than overlapping as well which is nice!

Life Tracker Session 8:

This one I did forget to change the title, but you can tell it’s Session 8 only. Tango, Scar, and Cleo died within two minutes of each other, it’s so tight. And Impulse and Scott were within six seconds of each other, so that was always gonna be impossible to separate.

Team Average Time Session 1-4:

Team Average Time Session 5-8:

Team Average Time Session 6-8:

Team Average Time Session 7-8:

Team Average Time Session 8:

I also have a copy of the above four with the dead people excluded, which I can share if people are curious, but this post is maybe getting a bit long right now, and I think the version where dead people are included is the better one to show - more accurate to team strength.

I also made some other graphs while procrastinating this post (because I was procrastinating making a decision about some of Bdubs’s deaths/kills to make the time work), but I will include those in their own post as this one is absolutely far too long right now.

I definitely had fun making these graphs each week, so I hope you guys enjoyed too!!

[lucky-draws]

9.6.23

[that-one-bi-disaster]

I could literally become an orthodontist with all the hours I spent fixing all the pokey parts of my own braces CAUSE Y'ALL DONT KNOW HOW TO DO YOUR JOBS

[rhaeheartzsquirrelz]

Defy Her

Toxic Sevika x Reader

Summary: Going out without your girlfriend; she hates when she can’t protect you.

Warnings: Sex: ass slapping/gripping, degradation, choking, hair pulling, strap-on, and crying (r! receiving)

A/N: GUESS WHOS OVULATINGGGGG 😛😛😛 I wrote this in 4 hours cus I had a dream abt it. (Don’t ask)

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Fuck it.

You thought, grabbing your clothes and quickly slipping them on. Black mini skirt with a matching black crop top, your outfit was finished off with a red cropped jacket and a pair of black boots. Hair tied up into a half-up half-down style, you put on your jewelry. Long black necklaces with a few bracelets. Not to forget your dangling earrings, you made sure everything was perfect before grabbing your keys and heading out. You were finally free, able to walk out the door without your girlfriend dragging you back in.

Rule number one: you can’t go out unless Sevika agrees or goes with you.

Bullshit ass rules. They were all made to keep you latched onto your girlfriend, to keep you dependent on her. She didn’t like not being around you to keep everything in-check, make sure no one got too close, and even to prevent you from talking to anyone but her.

Your destination was The Last Drop, where Sevika, you hoped, wouldn’t be. She was probably doing some work for Silco, maybe even with Jinx trying to keep her out of trouble. Either way, you weren’t having her shit anymore. So, with a confident push on the doors, you enter the bar. You were immediately met with a crowd of people who were dancing, drinking, making out, and, most importantly, having fun.

Making your way to the bar to grab a few drinks, you looked around to find you being stared at. Up and down, either checking you out or judging you.

You decided to ignore them and sat on a stool, ordered yourself a sweet treat, and tried to forget about Sevika; for now. You ordered lemonade, getting drunk wasn’t on your list. The place was dimly lit with the telbum lights brightened it up with colourful lights. The speaker blasted upbeat music, causing everyone to dance, you silently admired the way the crowd was able to be carefree and loose. As excited you were to have some freedom, your main concern was if Sevika would find you and drag you home. Maybe yell at you or something.

Something would be fucking you senseless.

Though it wasn’t a bad idea, it sure scared you to see her angry. Ripping you open and making sure you were twitching after the first few rounds.

Sipping on your drink, you turn your attention to the man who was now shifting to sit beside you. He looked friendly enough, even though he was staring you down with those black eyes of his.

“Saw you come in, wanna dance?” His voice smooth even though it held a hint of nervousness. Hale leaned closer to you with his drunken breath. For a second you considered his invitation, dancing would be nice. But with a stranger?— who was probably just trying to get in your pants?. It felt like going behind Sevika’s back.

“I uhm.. I’m alright..” Forcing a smile, you turn your head to your drink. Your answer was simple and sweet, you hoped he’d take it and leave. At the corner of your eye, you saw him scoff. “C’mon, it’s just dancing?”

Was he fuckin’ stupid? “I said I’m good.” Was your response. You’d learned that from Sevika. Thankfully, you he fucked off. With a grumble under his breath, he walked away with heavy steps. You, yourself, grumble to yourself in annoyance before taking a few big sips and finishing your drink. Could a gal really not enjoy one night alone?

Maybe the night would be more enjoyable with Sevika. Having her glare away any men, letting you dance as you pleased? It was a nice thought. Even if she’d hover and fuss over a simple glance, you secretly wanted her to be there now.

May the universe heard your wish because as you were about to get up, you felt a tug around your waist before you were pulled against someone. “The hell are you doing here?” The familiar gruffed out words hit your ears and you realized it was your girlfriend. Her flesh arm around your waist, she tightened her grip which let you know she was upset. Maybe even pissed. “How many fucking times do I have to tell you not to come here alone? You deaf or something?” Sevika would groan out, her voice raising and tense. “I can handle myself, I don’t need you all the time.”

You guessed she didn’t like that answer because as her prosthetic arm hit the wooden counter with a fist she scoffed. “Don’t fuck around with me. God knows how many assholes are waiting to push a stick up your ass.” With that, she turned you around and gripped your wrist. “We’re goin’ home. End of discussion.” You clearly couldn’t say no to that, to her authoritative tone. She’d drag you home whether you liked it or not, pull you over her shoulder with her muscular arms and force you with her. Mumbling under your breath, you let her lead you away towards the exit.

An hour of freedom was all you got.

Reaching your shared apartment, Sevika locked the door behind you with a slam. Her expression irritated, she didn’t let go of your wrist. “I don’t even get to do anything. I barely go out by myself.” — “For a god damn reason.” She shot back, towering over you and making you have to look up. “I saw the way those ‘fuckers looked at you, as if you were some piece of meat.” Of course she noticed, that’s all she did. Look around and force everyone to look away. “I can’t help that? You were looking at me the same way when we started dating!” Raising your voice was a bad idea, the way Sevika’s grey eyes glared at you made you quickly fix yourself. “You’re mine. Got that? I do what the hell I want with you, no one else.” Tugging on your wrist she pulled you closer and gripped onto your hair with her mech hand. “Even lookin’ at you is a privilege.” Gasping at the tug on your hair, you let slip a shaky moan.

Her voice was low, dangerously quiet, as she leaned down to crash her lips against yours. Sucking on your bottom lip, Sevika bit down until you were sure they were bleed. Tilting your head back with her grip from your hair, her flesh arm came around to grip your ass and pull your body flush against her tense one.

If Sevika couldn’t keep everyone away from you, she would just have to keep you locked up and all to herself.

Soft whimpers left your lips as she kissed you deeply, tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. Tasting you, she found it satisfying to see you breathless and, already, vulnerable . Pulling back to see your red cheeks, she took hold of your face, squishing your cheeks together, and smirked with cockiness. “Fuckin’ whore.” Was all Sevika said before raising you and carrying you towards the bedroom. Her muscular arms then threw you— yes, threw you— onto the bed. Grunting, you give her furrowing brows. “Quit doing that, what if I hit my head?” Sevika only chuckled as she grabbed her strap. It was the largest one she had, one you could barely take halfway.

Approaching you, she tossed it beside you before ripping your clothes off. “Surprised you care more about bumpin’ your head on a wall than me ruining that hole of yours.” Voice unserious as she had you bare and on your back. “You couldn’t give a damn about the way I stretch-out your cunt. Want it so ruined I need a bigger one’a these.” Motioning to the strap, she crawled onto the bed and sitting infront of you and pulled you by your wrists. She turned you around to positionyour back to her front and your ass to her strap. Face burried your freshly done hair, she took a deep inhale. Both of you were on your knees with heavy breaths. You knew where this was headed.

With her flesh hand on your clit, she rubbed it to get the desired reaction. She succeeded when you couldn’t help but softly sigh at the teasing motion. One finger was enough to cover your bud, that’s just how big her hand was. And she took advantage of it every single time. With a bite on the back of your shoulder, she pushed her cock inside and kept it there for a good second. It was the first time she’d went all in. It left you to gasp and whimper. “Since I haven’t made myself direct with what I want, let me show you.” You braced yourself as you held your breath, heart pounding in your chest as she pinched your clit. A soft “fuck..” left your lips. “Don’t.” A hard pound hit your cunt. “Go.” Another hard pound hit with a grunt. “Out. The third pound went deeper than the first two. “Without.” You were still adjusting to the thickness when the blow hit, it caused a shaky moan to escape your lips.. “Permission.” With the last pound, she grasped onto your neck and squeezed enough to where it was hard to breathe. You could feel the pressure as your face went warm, you were red. “Got that, you dirty whore?”

Slamming into you, she went all the way in and made sure you were feeling all of it. Head tilted back with the help of Sevika’s grip, your back arched into her cock as she rubbed it against your walls. She was enjoying this, punishing you for being stubborn enough to go against her rules. “Look at you, already a slutty mess.” She was taking her anger out on you, “Tell me how much you want this cock. And don’t cum ‘til I fuckin’ tell you.” The sound of her strap making contact with your cunt was all that you could hear, all that could focus on. Phwap Phwap Phwap. You were fucking loving this.

“Sev, Baby..” You said shakily, “Don’t stop— fuckkkk, please.. it’s too good..” Your voice was strained from the grip around your neck, even moaning was difficult. “I.. I’m close.. it’s too much— it’s too fucking good.” Practically pleading your words out, you kept still for your girlfriend as she pushed into you. “Already? Can’t even last a few minutes.” Tugging at your hair and letting go of your neck, she pushed your face into the sheets and gave you the ‘back-shots’ you deserved. Head tilted to the side, you could barely handle her. “Sevika— baby, I.. I want you— holy—make me cum…” Words a breathy moan, you groan out at every sensation that rose from your drenched pussy. Sevika’s flesh hand came to play with your pulsing clit, pinching and rubbing it like some toy. “Yeah?.. you want me, baby? You want me like the little slut y’are?” Hips rolling deep blows into your cunt, you were holding on for life. Hands gripping the sheets in order to ground yourself as you bit onto your lip, causing them to swell up.

Sevika fucked you like a sex toy, never slowing her pace and hitting all the juicy spots that got you crying out. Tears ran down your mascara smeared cheeks from the overwhelming pleasure. Your girlfriend didn’t seem to care over your sobbing, because she only grew rougher. Evident in the way she slapped your ass multiple times with her heavy hands and left behind red handprints. You whined everytime. “Hope you’ve got your shit together, ‘cause you were a dumbass for going to that shitty bar without me.” Legs twitching, your voice was beginning to strain from all the moaning you were doing. All the humms and whimpers were getting to you. “I’m close.. please— please I need you..” You’d breath out, shutting your eyes and letting every sensation soak in. “I’ll.. I’ll listen— please, baby I won’t.. won’t go out. Alright?” You were desperate for the orgasm pooling in your core, which needed to escape. Even your voice was cracking, from, both, moaning so much and and crying. “Let me cum, I.. I can’t hold it in..” Sevika, as usual, was memorizing ever moan, ever twitch, and every reaction that you gave. The slight tremble in your hands, the quiet whimpers you let out at every touch, and the heavy breathing. She loved it all.

“Cum for me, baby.” Was your girlfriend’s ‘yes’. And cum you did. Closing your legs you fell onto your chest and cried out at the intensity of the pressure your body was releasing. Hips writhing, legs shaking , and body heating up, your face was burried into cool sheets as you whimpered from the aftermath. “I just fucked the prettiest slut in Zaun.” Sevika proudly gruffed out, slapping your ass as she lowered herself. Knees on either side of the back of your thigh she brushed your soft hair aside before pressing hot kisses on your back, her strap rubbing against your back as she did so. Coming back from your orgasm, you collect your breath. “So.. you know other.. pretty sluts?” You murmured, eyes fluttering with the softness of her lips. Sevika only chuckled with amusement. “No, I don’t. Even if I did, you’d be the only slut I’d wanna see like this.” Her words a heartfelt scoff as she rubbed soothing circles on your back with her big palms.

“I’m still mad at you.” Sevika brought up, lips grazing the back of your neck before she bit down and claimed you. “I know..”— “Don’t do that shit again. Next time I won’t fuck you like this.” You knew what that meant.

Before, when the two of you started dating, she’d often ignore you, make you feel like shit, everytime you disobeyed her. But, luckily, communication helped and she stopped. But, would she really do it again? Start ignoring you?

“Don’t..” You whispered out, opening your heavy eyes as Sevika bit around your body. Shoulder, neck, arms, she wanted to mark you everywhere. You could only hold your breath when she did so, giving her the chance to do whatever she needed. “I don’t want you to ignore me..” And maybe your words sounded too.. sombre because, afterwards, Sevika pulled back and cleared your face from any strands of your disheveled hair and met your eyes. Her gaze stared into yours as she ran her hand over your flushed cheek and wiped off your smeared mascara. “You already told me not to.” Tone softened, she shifted to kiss your reddened lips. “I listen, unlike your stubborn ass.” You scoff at her response, “I do listen! You just make it hard to.”

With your sassy response, she laid down beside you and took off her strap. Throwing it somewhere onto the floor bedroom her mech arm came to wrap around your body. With another press on your lips, that you reciprocated with, she smirked out a soft…

“I’m pretty confident whatever I say is right.”— “Yeah, sure.” You shot back, grinning at her silent forgiveness.

[defiant-firefly]

Hey I've just remembered that consistency is something that doesn't work for me and trying to retain a semblance of consistency chasing that ideal of a so called 'good' and 'better' way to live is actively causing me harm and literally is not worth it. The most consistent time in my life was the best because I let myself be inconsistent on every single thing and didn't keep fighting a sleep pattern that I know I can't beat backwards, and let move on its own. I passed my first year of uni like that. Tumbled out of uni on the second because I kept. Fucking. Fighting. This endless. Losing. Battle.

This is just me complaining about how I have to keep learning to live my life in a way that works for me. But I suppose this is a reminder to you guys that aiming for a better way of life is best done one your own terms and working with yourself, not against yourself.

Great life advice? Maybe! Not lived long enough to know lmao but I know forcing myself to be a specific way despite knowing what I know about the struggles those cause isn't fucking worth it if it hurts me more than when I didn't.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Medical Emergency

Summary: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Fe!Reader -> When Jake gets a call asking to pick you up from the hospital, it's safe to say he's confused. Especially considering neither of you were known for getting along with the other.

Disclaimer: Enemies to lovers, brother's best friend, descriptions of being ill (nothing fully specified, just fainting a lot, low blood sugar and hormones), swearing, fluff, steamy moments, he takes care of you. This has been in my w.i.p for a while now so it's kinda a long one. Not Proof Read.

It was safe to say Jake was confused to find out he was your emergency contact. 

It was known to most people in the town that you and Jake weren’t exactly the best of friends. The hatred started all back when he was brought into Top Gun the first time round. Before he suddenly became the best, of the best of the best. And each year he came back, it only got worse. 

Neither of you would be surprised if everyone in San Diego knew about how much you and Jake didn’t get along. 

So, yeah. Getting a call from a Nurse called Emma telling him he needed to come and pick you up from the hospital…he was confused. 

He’d spent most of the day training the new recruits at Top Gun. He was on base when he got the call, but twenty minutes later, he was parked outside the hospital and was being shown to your room. 

“She’s to take two of these every six hours for the next three days. If she has any drastic changes; dizziness, nausea, vomiting, etc. Bring her back. But she should be okay.”

He hadn’t even been told what had happened. 

Then he saw you. 

On a typical day, your hair was either up or down. You typically wore bright colours since the kids in your class like to point them out and name them. And even at the end of the week when you’d walk into the Hard Deck, Penny already having your drink waiting for you, and you’d look tired and ready to go to bed, you were still…bright. Put together. 

But from where he was standing, you were dressed in grey sweats and a Top-Gun hoodie. Most likely, you thought it was your brother’s. But from the worn hole around the edge of it let Jake know it was his. One your brother had never returned to him. 

You looked…like you needed to be comforted. 

Your hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail at the base of your skull. Any hints of make-up had been long washed away. Your nail polish was chipped, if not already peeled from your nails. 

Finally slipping your shoes on, you stood slowly. You looked like you needed to sleep for a year, and maybe take another nap for eight months. 

“Just sign here and here and then you’re free to go.”

Jake watched as the nurse’s words just about registered in your ears before you slowly picked the pen up from her hand and signed your name at the bottom of the paper. 

Reaching to grab the rest of your stuff, Jake almost swooped forwards. “I’ve got it.”

You just nodded. “Thanks.”

Any other day, you would have told him you could do it yourself and tell him to fuck off. 

He picked up your overnight bag and, with a hand at the bottom of your back, led you out of the hospital. 

“This way.”

You followed him back to his car and once he knew you were safe inside the passenger seat, he rounded the car and got into his seat. 

“I did tell them just to call me a cab. You can just drop me off down the road. You don’t need to-”

“I’m not letting you walk home.” He told you. “What’s your address?”

Part of Jake wished you’d fight him more about walking home. At least that way he’d know you were actually okay. He still would have driven you home, but…he wanted you back. 

Typing your address into his phone, he followed the sat-nav. 

By the time he pulled up outside your house, you were asleep. He waited for five minutes, letting you sleep whilst he researched and read the prescription you’d been given. 

Then he looked up at your house. You had to have a spare key. 

Carefully, he left his car and walked up your path. He looked in all the typical places until he found a small patch of wood from your porch coming loose. Inside was your key. 

So, opening your door and carrying your things inside, he came back for you. 

Unbuckling your seatbelt, he placed one of your arms around his neck before placing his own arms around your back and under your legs. 

“It’s okay. Go back to sleep.”

And you did. 

Shutting the door to his car with his back, he carried you into your house, shutting your front door with his foot before taking you into your bedroom and laying you on top of your sheets. Looking around, he found a basket of blankets just under your window. 

However, as he covered you up, he checked your temp with the back of his hand. You seemed okay. 

Then you reached for him. 

It was only for a few seconds, but you held his hand before your body fell back to sleep. 

Before he left your room, Jake got you a glass of water and left your window on a latch. And then he stayed. 

Kicking off his boots by the door, he locked everything up around your home before laying down on top of the guest bed with a million and one questions circling around his head. 

Why was he your emergency contact? What had happened? Why didn’t anyone else tell him you were in the hospital for, clearly, more than a couple of hours? 

You spent the next two days in and out of consciousness. The hospital told Jake not to worry and that it was a good sign you were sleeping. He’d wake you every couple of hours and give you your tablets. 

And each time, you’d wake up with the same confusion of how and why he was in your house. And then you’d remember. And apologise. And thank him. Before he’d tell you to lay back down and get some rest. 

By the time you came round, you woke up to texts pinging on your phone. 

How could you not tell me you were dating someone?

We SERIOUSLY need to catch up about this when you’re back in. 

Your boyfriend called the school. Why is this how I’m finding out you’re sick?

Get better soon, honey xoxo

Also, don’t worry about the kids. I’ve got your class covered. 

One of your fellow-teacher best friends. You and her had joined the school as teachers in the same year. She had been away on a cruise for the last two weeks. 

Slowly, everything that had happened over the last two days came flooding back to you. They had called Jake. He had come to get you at the hospital. He kept waking you up. Had he stayed that whole time? Was he the one to call your school?

Pulling yourself from your bed and heading to the bathroom, you caught a look of yourself in the mirror. You looked…rough. And also the exact same as you had when you’d left the hospital. Maybe there was a little more colour in your cheeks. 

And you did feel better. 

The room felt still and you didn’t feel like throwing up all your insides out, despite being unable to do so. 

Drying your hands on the towel, you made your way through your home. Things were…tidy. Militarily so. The last time your place, although tidy, had looked militarily tidy had been when your brother had visited you before he got deployed again. 

So, either, he was here now. Jake was still here. Or you had a ghost haunting your house that just so happened to be in the Navy. 

Walking down the stairs, you found a pair of boots at the bottom of your stairs. They definitely weren’t yours. 

Then you heard someone in the kitchen. The smell of fresh bread and chicken noodle soup wafted through your home. 

It was a minute or two before Jake spotted you. It felt like a fever dream, watching him in your kitchen, dressed normally, a towel slung over his shoulder as he slid the bread buns from the tray to a cooling rack. 

“Oh, hey. You’re awake.”

You nodded. “Did you cook?”

“How are you feeling?” Jake made his way over to you, his hand coming to touch your forehead and cheeks. You swatted his hands away. You could have sworn you saw him smile after you did it. 

“Get off me, I’m fine.”

Jake smiled as he watched you make your way to sit down on the opposite side of the kitchen island. You looked way better than you had done when he saw you in the hospital. 

“What day is it?”

“Tuesday.” He told you, continuing to slide all but one of the bread buns onto the cooling back. The final one, he dropped onto a plate before dishing out a bowl of the soup. 

“Eat up. You’re gonna need your strength.”

You looked at the food in front of you. “You made this?”

“I made it.”

You looked at him sceptically. “Is this how you plan to kill me? She was weak, your honour. I just wanted to help her.”

“Why would I take care of you for three days and then kill you? It’d be easier if I did it in three days.”

“So you did think about it.”

Jake rolled his eyes and handed you a fork. “Just eat.”

You couldn’t lie, it was one of the best meal’s you’d had in a long time. And as you ate, you looked around your home. Your books had been tidied away and back onto your shelves. All except two. One you were part way through reading and one that was…almost finished. But not by you. 

You didn’t notice as Jake watched you take everything in. Your books, your pots of pens. You dish towels, your spices and other baking ingredients. Some had even been put into the jars you had been meaning to fill back up. Then you noticed the smaller things. Like how he’d put up the wooden signs in your kitchen you’d been planning to do for months, and how he’d cleaned…everything. 

It looked like he’d done a complete renovation of your place whilst you’d been knocked out. 

Then you noticed the pile of papers on your kitchen counter. 

The English and maths tests you’d given to your class a few weeks ago. You hadn’t finished marking them. 

But Jake had. 

You took the top paper and looked it over. 

“Did you mark these?” You flipped through the pages. Not only were they marked, but they were marked correctly. They even had a sticker on each of “well done” or “great stuff”. 

You heard Jake chuckle. “I am a teacher, too, you know.”

“You’re a…Top Gun instructor. Not a third-grade teacher.”

“I do suppose I am over qualified to help but-”

You shook your head. You hadn’t meant for it to sound so insulting.

“No, I-I mean, thank you. But you didn’t have to do this. Any of this.” You gestured around your home. “You already did enough bringing me home.”

“I wanted to ask you about that. Why was it me that brought you home? Surely you have people who you actually like, to be your emergency contact?”

Tyler watched as you fell silent and searched for the words to tell him. 

“You’re…not.” Taking a breath, you looked up at him. “They…they tried a couple of people. They couldn’t make it. One of the nurses knows Penny so called and asked if she had anyone’s number who I knew. I did try and tell them to just call me a cab.”

He let your words settle over him. 

“Who?”

“What?”

“Who else did you call? Who didn’t pick up?”

You listed them off. Most were people in your family and a couple of friends. 

“I would have fought them on it but-”

“I’m glad you called me.” Jake admitted you. And it struck you. “Give me your phone.”

You slid it over to him. And he called his number from your phone. 

“If anything like that happens again, I want you to call me.”

“Jake-”

He shook his head. “You’re not fighting me on this. Fight me on everything else. Anything else. But not this. Call me.”

So you just nodded. “Okay.”

“Good. And eat up, too.”

You did. “You say that as if we’ve got some place to be.”

“We do.”

“Where?”

“You’ll see.”

Twenty minutes later he practically shoved you into your bathroom en-suit telling you to shower and get changed. 

“I thought my nurse was meant to be kind.”

“I am kind!” He said. “And I’m not a nurse. And I’m a friend.”

You laughed a little at that one. 

“I’ve seen the inside of your junk drawer. I’m your friend. I have to be, or else I don’t have a word for it.”

He did have a point on that. Your junk drawer…even you hadn’t seen the inside of that thing in at least a year. 

So, after getting dressed, taking the last of your antibiotic and forcing some kind of health smoothie Hangman had made you with the blender he found at the back of your cupboard, you found yourself back in the passenger seat of his car. 

“Where are we going?”

He said nothing, just smiled and pulled the aviators from his collar and put them on before starting his engine and for a moment you wondered if that was what he did when he got into his jet. Flash his million-dollar smile before starting his jet engine and taking off into the sky. For a moment you wondered what it would be like to watch him land and look over at you just like he did. 

But then you forced yourself back to reality. 

This was Jake Seresin, aka Hangman. Given that name because he hangs his team out to dry. 

But he didn’t leave you. 

In fact, he was the only one to show up. 

And the first to stay. 

You read the road signs as best as you could until you realised where he was taking you. 

“You know there is a beach like ten minutes from my house.”

He nodded. “I know. But you’re there all the time. You’ve seen that patch a thousand times. This is different.”

“How? Isn’t all sand the same?”

He shrugged, still smiling. “Maybe. But they always say the beach can work a thousand miracles. Come on.”

It was a five minute walk to the bottom. 

“Is it usually this empty?”

He looked around. “There’s usually a couple more people, but yeah. This is usually it. Not many people drive this far down. They think it’s not the best but to me…couldn’t be more perfect.”

“Huh.”

“What?” Jake asked, looking at you. 

You continued looking out to the water. You shook your head. “No, nothing. Just…never thought you’d be the sentimental type.”

“Well…I’m not.” 

You looked at him. 

“To most people.”

It was at that moment you felt a small crackle. Either in your chest or your gut, something crackled. And you felt the blanket of hatred you had for Jake Seresin start to fade. 

His call sign might be ‘Hangman’, but you had a strong feeling that when it came to those he cared about…he tried his best to stick around. And even if he couldn’t, he’d make a memory of them to last a lifetime. 

 For the rest of the day, you spent most of your time lying on the beach watching the waves or reading your book, which he had packed. And it was…one of the best days you’d had in a long time. 

“Why are you doing this?”

“What?” Moving the book from his face, Jake looked at you from beneath his shades as you lay on your stomach beside him. 

“This? Less than a week ago I’m pretty sure people would have made money on you and I killing each other. Why are you helping me?”

“Because you need it. And I’m pretty sure anyone else would believe you when you say that you don’t.”

“And you don’t believe me?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I know you.”

You scoffed. “What do you mean you know me?”

You watched as he smiled and tried to kill the butterflies in your stomach. 

“Y/n.”

You were still getting used to the fact he was using your first name. Usually it was your last, or some sweet nickname like ‘Sweetheart’ that would grate through your entire body. 

“You spend most of your time making sure everyone feels okay and is doing okay. The only time you actually let your feelings know is when you’re taking shit to me. You deserve a break. You deserve to take one before your body forces you to have one.”

Hearing his words as he spoke, you slowly sat up until your back was to the water and you were fully facing him. 

“Plus, your brother asked me to look out for you. And I’d rather not suffer his wrath again.”

Okay, that had to be complete bull. Your brother’s wrath when it came to protecting you, that was true. But why ask Jake of all people given he knew your history and track record with him. 

And what did he mean by again?

You barely had time to ask all of your questions before you watched him stand up, throwing his book closed to the ground. You mentally scolded yourself for letting your eyes wander all over him. 

You weren’t blind to the fact Hangman looked, well, like him. A daring smile, enough charm to charm even the most sourest of people and the body to go with it. But before today, you had been immune. At least, you considered yourself immune since the blanket of hatred that you held for him seemed to block plenty out. 

Worst of all, he caught you. 

You knew he caught you because of the smirk on his face and the chuckle that escaped his broad chest. 

“Shut up.” You groaned, forcing yourself to stand. “I’ve been in the hospital. My immune system is temporarily weakened.”

“It isn’t the first time I’ve caught you, Sweetheart.” Seresin drawled just as you looked at him both annoyed and confused. And maybe slightly offended that he thought you had, before today, purposefully checked him out. 

But he just laughed. “Come on, I want to show you something.”

“But what about our stuff?”

“It’ll be safe. I know most of the people on this beach, they’ll make sure nothing happens to it.”

Taking your hand in his, he led you down the beach, under a small cove and through to the otherside where some rocks were covered in seaweed and sand. 

And for a while, you and Jake explored the place. You’d never been this far down the beach so finding out it existed was a bonus. Finding seaweed to pop and watching the crabs crawl across some of the rocks was fun. 

You’d never stop to take a break. Straight out of college, you’d begun teaching. It had been in your home town until your brother got accepted into Top Gun. And, with an internalised fear of losing him, you moved out to San Diego. You knew after a while he’d be stationed somewhere else, but you’d managed to find a home there. And when your brother was stationed not too far from his Top Gun base, the rest of your family moved closer. 

Since then, it has been helping them get settled, tutoring their children after spending all day teaching. It was sleepless nights spent alone at home, living off the quickest food you could make because you simply didn’t have time to cook. It was running yourself so far into the ground that the one person who you never thought would even step foot into your home was the only one to show up and give you enough space to actually relax. 

So watching crabs walk along the rocks was fun. 

And hearing your name, and calling out his name above the waves, without hatred or malice behind it, was fun, too. 

“Come and look at this.”

Carefully, you made your way over the rocks, trying your best not to slip and hit your head. And you did so, until the last rock before you joined him. 

Letting out a small yell as you reached out to try and catch yourself, he threw out his hand and caught you. 

“You okay?”

“Fine.”

“Can you stand?”

You lowered yourself to a lower rock, still holding onto his arms before letting go and allowing yourself to take his hand and help you up the rest of the way. 

“What am I looking at?”

It was a starfish. 

The rest of the day, you and Jake explored the shore, skipped rocks on the calming water, sunbathed and even took a swim in the water. 

By the time the sun had set, you found yourself sitting with him on the hood of his car, a pizza box between you both, watching the planes fly from the airport. 

A week ago, if anyone had told you that you would have done any of this, especially with Hangman, you would never have believed them. 

“Thank you, for your help.” You blurted out as you watched another plane fly into the sky. 

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“Yes, I do.” You wanted him to listen to you. “Given our track record for being nice to each other, I wouldn’t have been surprised if you didn’t turn up at the hospital to bring me home. But you did. And you made sure I didn’t fall into some kind of coma after it. And today you gave me the first day, I think, ever, where I’ve not done a thousand things for somebody else and enjoyed what I was doing. So, I do need to thank you for that.”

“Are you saying…you…like me?”

You couldn’t stop the smile on your face, but you tried to force it away. “Okay.”

“No, no. I mean, this is a miracle.”

“You’re tolerable.” You corrected him. 

Smiling, he took another slice of pizza. “You like me.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You like me. I am now your friend. We are now friends.”

You shook your head, holding in a laugh. “Just shut up and eat your pizza.”

It was safe to say after that, that everyone was shocked at the dynamic between both you and Hangman. 

They had all gotten so used to the insults and borderline flirty comments you’d both sling each other's way, it had become like white noise. So, when it was gone and replaced with laughter and smiling, it gave everyone a terrified feeling. 

“I’m guessing they’re not here yet.”

Penny shook her head as she poured another pint. With a smile, she nodded over to the other end of the bar. “They’re over there.”

Twenty minutes later, it had become like a social study for everyone in the bar to watch you and Jake. 

“Do you think they fucked? Got all that pent up energy out?”

Coyote shook his head. “No, he would have told me. How long have they been like this? Maybe they’ve been hypnotised into liking each other?”

Rooster shook his head. “The hypnotist left like three months ago. Maybe they’re…faking it. Do you think they heard us talking about them last week? About who would kill who first? Maybe they’re teaming up so nobody wins?”

Penny shook her head as she wiped down the bar. “Well, whatever it is, it’s a nice change. She looks a lot happier. They both do. Who knows, maybe next we’ll be holding a wedding here.”

“Not their wedding?” Rooster seemed shocked. “Penny, they were about three insults away from killing each other three weeks ago.”

“Love is blind, as they say.”

For the rest of the night, people watched you and Jake sat together. Seresin and Y/l/n. Hangman and Sweetheart. 

And then they watched as you walked home. 

Together. 

It was safe to say everyone was shocked to their core. For the first time ever, there had been a night where both you and Jake had not only been in the bar at the same time but had also sat together for the whole night, and not once killed each other. 

Verbally or otherwise. 

“You know, you’re not as big of a dick as I thought you were Seresin. Tonight was a nice change.”

“I have been known to be kind once in a while.”

“Keep this up, you might be fit to see another day.”

“So might you.” Jake replied as he watched you climb the steps of your front porch. “I meant what I said, about taking a break. You deserve one, Y/n.”

You took in what he said with a small nod before adding. “You know, it’s still freaking me out, you even know my first name.”

“If it helps, the nurse had to tell me.” He said. “Guess I’ve called you by your last name so much, I forgot your first.”

“Is that why you keep saying it? So you don’t forget?”

He shrugged, a slight smirk on his face. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“You know, it is okay if you forget it once in a while.”

Jake smiled a little at that. “How could I forget the name of the woman who once dumped three shots of tabasco sauce into my drink?”

“Hey, you can’t prove that was me.”

“Hey, the bottle was in your hand.”

You unlocked your door. “I still plead not guilty.”

“Whatever you say, Sweetheart. Sure you’re okay on your own?”

You nodded. “I’ll be fine. Besides, don’t you have an early start in the morning?”

He nodded. “Even so. Call me.”

“Goodnight, Jake.”

“Night, Sweetheart.”

He waited for you to lock your doors before he got into his car and drove back home. 

The following weeks continued the same way. If anybody who was anybody saw you and Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin together, in the same room, talking. They would stop and watch. 

Never in a million years did anyone expect you and Jake to talk, never mind actually become friends. 

Each Friday, you met each other at the bar. You both have a drink. You’d both sit and talk. Maybe some of your old ways were still there with each other, but there was less “25 to life” about it and more “affection” in the words you both said. 

However, it nearly gave people an aneurysm when they thought you were both actually dating. 

Two people who were thirty seconds away from physically fighting each other every day had gone from, well, that, to…to…to dating?

It couldn’t be…could it?

And the rumours that had been spread by one of the bar regulars, after she’d spotted both of you grocery shopping together before spotting Jake’s car leave from the top of your road hours later, were only fueled when they heard about what happened at the school. 

It had been months since you fainted and you had been getting better. You felt better, you felt like you had more energy. And with Jake’s help you started to feel like a person again. A person who wasn’t wholly consumed by their work constantly, whether they were ten miles from the building or not. 

Except, one morning, you woke up and felt…off. 

Something wasn’t right. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something didn’t feel right. Maybe your period was coming early. It has been doing that lately. Surprising you when you least expected or wanted it. 

Just a few weeks ago, it had arrived early once again. And the pain you’d felt in the days before nearly floored you. And when you hadn’t showed up at the bar like you’d agreed to with Jake, he came looking for you. That night he’d taken a quick trip to the grocery store after you told him what happened. He looked after you. Made sure you were okay. The next day, he drove you back to the store and you stocked up on supplies and snacks. 

It was also later that night when he surprised you by making dinner. 

Opening up your fridge, you took one of the healthy smoothies that Jake had left you the last time he’d come round, before packing it into your bag and heading to work. 

Your queasy feelings only got worse. And then…you felt it. 

Sticking on a documentary for your class, you took your phone and slowly made your way towards the teachers bathroom, stopping off at the next class. 

“Can you keep an eye on them for a couple of minutes?” 

Your best friend nodded. “Course’ honey.” Before asking her TA to go next door. 

“You okay?”

You tried your best to look okay, despite everything you were feeling inside. 

“Yeah. Yeah. I will be.”

As the TA headed next door, you made your way towards the bathroom, then dialled his number. 

“Hey,” Jake said as he answered. “Just about to call you. They’ve got a showing of The Wizard of Oz tonight at the theatre, if you wanted to go-”

“Jake.”

“Are you okay? What’s happened? Is everything okay? Is it your brother-”

“Every…” You swallowed thickly before carefully lowering yourself onto the floor with your back against the wall, and unlocking the door. “Everything’s okay, it’s just…”

Jake had a strong feeling he knew what was happening. “I’m on my way. Where are you?”

“School bathroom. Teacher’s.”

“Okay.” You could hear him leaving his office and getting into his car. “Is the door unlocked?”

You didn’t answer. 

“Y/n.”

“I’m here.”

Jake breathed. “Y/n, Sweetheart. Is the door unlocked to the bathroom?”

“Yes.”

“Does anyone else know you’re there?”

You explained what happened as best as you could. 

“Just, please get here soon?”

“I will, Sweetheart. I promise. I’m almost there.”

You didn’t know how long had passed but it wasn’t long before you heard your name being called out by Jake. 

Pulling the door open a little from the floor, Jake ran towards it and peeked inside. There you were, sat with your knees close to your chest, against the wall. 

He stepped inside before crouching down. 

“I-I’m sorry I called. I just-”

Checking you over, Jake cupped your face. “Hey, no. No. I’m glad you called me. You can always call me. How are you feeling?”

“Dizzy. It’s better now but still like the room is spinning. And I’m not harnessed in.”

“Okay. Do you think you can stand?”

You gave a small nod. “Maybe.”

Helping you up, Jake took your hands in his and you stood up. 

“Come on, we’re getting you checked out at the ER.”

You would have fought him on it but considering the last time it happened they kept you in overnight, you went willingly. 

Thankfully, you didn’t pass out even when the dizziness and the nausea felt like they were getting worse. 

By the time the doctor saw you, she did all of the routine checks before turning and looking at Jake and back to you. 

“Is there a possibility you could be pregnant? I’ve seen a lot of couples come in here with similar symptoms and-”

Oh shit. 

“Oh, no. I-I’m not. And he’s not-”

“We’re- We’re not together.”

A few more awkward moments like that filled the next couple of hours until both yourself and Jake seemed to give up on correcting people. 

By the time they discharged you, they told you your blood sugar levels had dropped and your hormones were beginning to change with your cycle. Along with the advice to try and reduce stress. 

Driving you home that night, Jake made a detour. Towards the diner and then towards the beach along The Hard Deck. 

It was quiet for a Tuesday evening, but yourself and Jake just sat and ate dinner whilst watching the water push in and pull out constantly across the sand until eventually, laying your head on his shoulder, he placed his arm around your own. 

“Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me.”

“Thank you for calling me. Are you feeling any better?”

You nodded, gratefully. “Just a little tired, that's all.”

“I’ll drop you off at home, soon, if you’d like.”

You nodded then looked at him. And before you could stop yourself, you asked him; “Would you stay with me? Tonight? If you can’t- or if you don’t want to-”

“I’ll stay.”

“A-are you…sure?”

Jake nodded, a faint smile on his lips. “I’ll stay with you.”

You didn’t know what else to say other than thank you, so pressing a light kiss to his cheek, you said as much. “Thank you.”

You could have sworn you saw him blush as he smiled and looked down. “Anytime.”

It was odd really, laying beside the man you thought you’d be telling your kids about when you were older. About how much you hated him and how much he hated you, and why neither of you could sit next to each other at the Thanksgiving table every year. 

Jake had decided to stay in your guest bedroom, but the minute you heard him lay down in his bed, you felt…awake. Not wide awake. You were still tired. But you weren’t settled. Something inside of you wanted to be closer to him. 

So, after an hour of laying on your back, staring at your ceiling and listening to the distant shore line, with the odd rumble of a car’s engine running up and down the road every now and again, you got up. 

Jake had left his door open. If you shouted for him, or needed him, he would be able to hear you. Usually, he’d be out like a light, waking up at the smallest of noises. But this time, he couldn’t sleep. 

Instead, his mind was going over the fact you had called him when you were at work. And the fact that he enjoyed it when you were with him. That he was the one you chose to lean on. And the fact that he wished he was down the hall with you at that moment, then lay alone in the dark in your guest bedroom. 

Then he heard you. 

From the dim, moonlit hallway, he saw you. 

“Hey, everything-”

“Can I stay with you?”

Already half way up, Jake paused for a second. Then nodded. “‘Course. Come ‘ere.”

Walking over, Jake pulled the covers back and you climbed under them before feeling his arm wrap around you. And your arms came around him, one over his shoulder and round his neck, the other by his side. 

Instinctively, he pulled one of your legs across him and held it there whilst his other arm remained securely around your back, holding you to him. 

“Is this okay?”

He felt you nod and he nervously swallowed. 

“Are you okay, Sweetheart?”

In a quiet voice, your breath against his neck, you answered. “Better now.”

Pressing a kiss to your head, you nuzzled into each other. 

“Good.”

Not too long after that, you both fell asleep. 

And when you both woke up, neither of you wanted to move. 

If this had somehow happened six months ago, you probably would have thrown each other to the other side of the room. But it wasn’t six months ago. And you’d come to know Jake as…Jake. Who took care of his friends, and made sure everyone was okay and was kind and caring and…a lot of other things you didn’t want to think about at six o’clock in the morning. 

And the way he was looking at you at that moment made you think about other things that you didn’t want to think about. 

“What are you thinking about?” Jake asked after a few moments of watching you study him. 

“That you need to stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you…like me.”

Jake smiled. “I do like you, Sweetheart.”

“Jake.”

Then, for a moment, everything felt…serious. His tired smile dropped a little from his lips as he looked at you. 

“Do you trust me?”

You felt your heartbeat pick up in your chest and for a moment, you wondered if he could hear it. 

“Yes.”

Tucking your hair behind your ear, you felt him cup your cheek. “Y/n…”

He seemed nervous. 

“Can I kiss you?”

If you had let yourself think about it long enough, you never would have guessed Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, who went after whatever, and usually whoever he wanted, would ask if he could kiss. You’d always assumed that he was so confident in life and with women that he’d know. That he’d see the small signals. Or even the loud ones. And just…kiss a girl. 

But no. 

He asked. 

And something in your gut jumped. 

So you answered; “Yes.”

Nervously, he licked his lips before he leaned in. And kissing him felt…weird. Because it felt…normal. Unlike anything else you’d felt in your life. 

You managed to pull him closer, until he was leaning above you. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.”

From there, the softer, searching kisses slowly faded away and turned into something more. More wanting, more needing. Feeling his hands move down your body before he gripped your hips, and pulled you closer to him and carefully slid them back up until the fabric of your t-shirt began to bunch together. 

Feeling him press into your thigh, you let out a small noise that was only swallowed by his kiss. Swiftly, he pulled you across him, your legs straddling his lap before he sat up. Once more, he pushed the hair from your face and took you in, in the rising daylight. 

No words were spoken out loud, but everything was said. 

Leaning down, you kissed him again before letting your own hands move down his chest and towards the hem of his t-shirt. Except, just as he pulled you closer by your waist, his hips rocking into you, you both jolted at the sound of his alarm. 

“Sorry.” Jake quickly turned and switched it off. You were both going to be late for work. 

“If we don’t get ready now, we’re gonna be late.”

Looking at him, you didn’t know fully what to say. It had just been the hottest make out session of your life, with a guy six months ago people would have bet money on you killing. And you’d both been cock-blocked by his alarm. 

“I’ll meet you here, after work?”

That made you smile. “Okay.”

Then he did, too. “Okay.” Before throwing his phone to the side and pulling you down to kiss him. But as you pulled away, he groaned, trying to pull you back to continue but you walked a good three feet away from the bed. 

“Can’t be late, Hangman. You’ve got pilots to teach.”

With a coy smile, he was standing in front of you within seconds before lifting you onto the dresser behind you. This time, it was you trying to pull him back when he stopped kissing you. But he just stood back and let out a small chuckle. 

“We’ve both got students to teach, Sweetheart. We stay here any longer, they’re both gonna miss us.”

One final kiss to your lips, he stood back and practically ran away before you could grab hold of him. 

Twenty minutes later, he was showered and dressed for the day and had poured you a coffee to-go as well as packed you another smoothie and grabbed your lunch for you before you’d come downstairs, dressed and began loading the last of the exam papers into your bags. 

He dropped you back off at work, however, when you realised he was waiting in the parking lot for you to enter, you left your bags by the pillar and walked back. With his window already being down, you leaned in and kissed him, feeling his hand cup the back of your head. 

“See you tonight?”

“See you tonight.”

The day for either of you couldn’t have felt longer. And by the time Jake came walking through your back door, dropping his bag onto one of the pantry hooks, he couldn’t have been more relieved to see you. 

And for a moment, he just watched you as you sat on the sofa with crossed legs, flipping through a textbook and making notes. Softly, he approached you from behind before wrapping his arms around your shoulders. 

You smiled. 

“Hey, Sweetheart.”

“You’re back.”

You felt him relax against you. “Finally.”

“There’s some food. I made you a plate in the oven.”

He pressed a kiss to your head before walking towards the kitchen. “I would have cooked.”

“I know, but I needed the distraction.”

Waltzing back inside holding onto the warm plate, he smirked as he popped a fork-full of veg into his mouth. You could already feel your cheeks heating and from the look on his face, he could see it clear as day. 

“Distraction from what?”

“Nothing in particular.”

“Nothing, huh?”

At some point, he put down his plate and rounded back to the sofa, standing behind you before pressing soft kisses into the side of your neck. 

“Jake.”

The way you said his name went straight to his dick. 

As he moved your hair, you leaned to grant him more access. A satisfied smirk came to his lips as he watched your legs move to straighten out. 

“I’ve been thinking about you all day, Sweetheart.”

Eventually, you felt Jake move away but he appeared again, lowering himself in front of you. Taking the textbooks and notes from you and placing them on the coffee table behind him, he leaned forward and pulled you in to kiss him. 

“Have you been thinking about me?”

Feeling his hand move up your thigh and towards your shorts, you leaned in closer. “Have you, Sweetheart?”

“Yes,” your voice came out breathy. 

“Is this okay?”

You nodded. 

“I need words, darlin’.”

“Yes. Yes, it’s okay.”

As time passed, the small part of you that was still able to function started to ask questions. Like why you had hated him so much in the first place? And how you almost missed…him. 

And by the time you woke up in the morning, Jake practically wrapped around you like a boa constrictor, you had come to a new conclusion. 

You didn’t hate him anymore. 

You hadn’t hated him for a long time. 

All opinions you had of him, especially after a night of mindblowing sex, had been shot out of the water. 

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was no longer the man you thought he was. The man you had come to know and lo- 

The man you had come to know was a man that showed up. And stayed. He was someone that took care of the people he cared about. He was someone that would fix things in your home without you asking. He was someone that cooked meals, even if it was almost one o’clock in the morning and you were craving a grilled cheese. He was someone that, even after sex, took care of you in a way nobody had ever even thought about doing before. He was someone that you could trust and respect, and did so. 

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was a man that had proved your theories wrong and he was a man that you realised you were falling for. 

And in some ways, that scared you. And in some ways, it didn’t. 

Because, for as much as he could be so sure of himself. So bold. So confident, it bordered on cocky. You were also sure of him. Sure that, if he was feeling the same things you felt, that he wouldn’t let you hurt yourself when you fell, but rather he’d catch you. 

And it, surprisingly, didn’t take him very long. 

By the time you woke up in the morning and headed downstairs, freshly dressed in a worn Top Gun hoodie and a pair of sleep shorts, you started making breakfast. However, as you stood at the stove, flipping the bacon, you felt a newly familiar pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind. 

Dropping his chin to your shoulder, Jake pulled you close to his chest. 

“Good morning.”

“Morning’.” He drawled. “Whatcha’ cookin’?”

“Bacon and eggs. There’s also toast in the toaster.”

With a smile, Jake pressed a kiss to your exposed collar which caused you to let out a small giggle before quickly turning the stove off. 

“You’ve gotta be careful, Hangman. You’ll make me burn breakfast.”

He hummed a response. “I had a couple other meals in mind.”

“Oh really? Like what?”

With his hands on your hips and his lips on your neck where you suspected he’d just left another hickey, he slowly turned you around. “I can think of one.”

Finally facing him, he kissed you as you fumbled with the last temperature gauge and turned it off. Picking you up, he carried you away from the counter near the stove to the one complete opposite. 

“You’re driving me insane dressed like this.” He mumbled against your kiss. “Wearing my shirt.”

“Your shirt?” You asked as his lips moved to your neck. 

Looking at you for a moment, half drunk on your kiss, he nodded. “Didn’t you know, Sweetheart? This here is mine.” Pinching some of the fabric between his fingers he shook it as he told you so. 

You laughed. “No it’s not.”

He nodded. “God's honest truth. Your brother stayed at mine one night after he’d gone out drinking. Lost his shirt, don’t ask me how. Stole one of my hoodies. Never got it back.”

“How do you know this is yours?”

With a smile, Jake showed you the small hole that you’d made a little bigger over the years from when you’d get nervous. “This right here. Loose thread got caught in a cabinet I was fixing in my room. Pulled at it too hard. And…”

Jake watched as your expression changed a little, hungry for more of his touches, as he pushed his hand slowly up the inside of your- his hoodie. 

A slight smirk, he pulled at the side tag and showed you. And it baffled you how you’d never noticed before. 

J.H.S

“See. But, I have to say, Sweetheart. It looks better on you than it ever did me.”

And as he was looking at you, he asked you something else. “Let me take you out on a date. A real one. You know, seeing you like this…I never want to see anyone else like this but you.”

“Jake…”

“I’m being serious. Sweetheart, I want you. And not just temporarily.” Then he looked away as he said the next part. “I’d get it…if you didn’t want that. God knows you and I don’t have the best history when it comes to even getting along but-”

“I want to date you.”

He looked up at you. 

“I want to date you,” you repeated. “Believe me, half of the time I don’t get it myself. How we’ve gone from one extreme to the other, but I know…I know I want you around.”

“I want you around, too.”

“So, yes.”

Jake smiled. “Yes?”

You smiled back. “Yes. Take me out on a date, Jake Seresin.”

Leaning forwards, he kissed you. And before long, your hands started to feel for the hem of his shirt before pulling it over his head. 

It was safe to say, when you and Jake walked into The Hard Deck in the evening after your official first date, hand in hand before he pressed a kiss to your lips, a lot of people were shocked. 

And lost a lot of money. 

But Penny won it all. 

She knew the minute Jake saw you, and your brother scolded him, that something would happen. After all, Hangman was known for going after what he wanted. She just never expected to have to be the one to force you to be in the same room and for that room to be a hospital.

[hiraethwrote]

THE HEART GROWS FONDER

pairing : kento nanami x f!reader summary : (requested) — kento nanami loved you before he even knew you, and his feelings were the one thing he never questioned. like pieces of a puzzle, you fit together. whatever happens, your feelings never waver. cw : childhood friends to lovers, reader is v emotional, canon events/jjk0 spoilers, mentions of character death, mutual and intense pining, miscommunication lack of communication, mild one-bed-trope?, platonic!satoru (bc apparently i am unable to write anything without mentioning him), light profanity, pet names, talk of wedding, sweet fluff, a good chunk of angst, slight jealousy, no use of y/n word count : 10.1 k

Kento was a knowledgeable man.

He knew how long it took to get from one place in Tokyo to another, no matter what time of day it was. Well aware of all the best routes for traveling the city most efficiently, even during rush hours.

He knew all the ways to make the most money. Not what he was proudest of, but working hard had garnered him a set of useful skills that made him a good employee, a real asset to the company.

He knew how to read a map, a skill long forgotten by most in this day and age. Should he ever find himself in a situation where there was no reception, he would be able to get his hands on a sheet displaying the nearby areas and figure out how to return to civilisation.

He knew how to best take care of his body. He had done extensive research to make sure he moved his body correctly during workouts to not harm himself. He wasn’t interested in aching joints when he was old and gray.

And he knew he loved you — since the very first moment his eyes landed on you all those years ago.

He remembered the exact moment in excruciating detail as well, like how he had turned a little scared at the unfamiliar sensation of a racing heartbeat. When pressing his hand to his chest, he felt the rapid thumping. He quickly realised it was caused by the sight of you when it happened every time he spotted you.

His dad would tease him whenever he caught Kento sitting in the windowsill, chubby cheeks resting on his forearms as he gazed lovingly towards the little girl playing in her front yard a few houses down. “I’m sure she would love to play with you.” His face would turn bright crimson, a colour that had become all too common in the Nanami household whenever you were brought up, before an embarrassed Kento would stomp up to his room.

He didn’t learn your name until the first day of school — your parents had arranged for the two of you to walk to school together. He had been over the moon when he heard the news, pure excitement filling his body to the point where he could not sit still. But the moment he was stood in front of you, your voice sweet as honey when introducing yourself, his throat dried out and he turned tongue tied. His mom placed a hand on his shoulder, bringing his feet back on the ground, “Kento,” he croaked weakly before disappearing into his jacket.

With small feet carrying you to and from school, you tried to force a conversation out of him but to no prevail. He remained shy and quiet, eventually resulting in a statement that had saddened him more than he could have anticipated; “you don’t talk much, do you?”

There had been no ill intent in your words, but it had Kento distance himself from you. What was supposed to blossom into a friendship (and maybe even more with time), only simmered down to him consistently trialing five steps behind you on the path to school that became all too bleak when it hadn’t turned out how he had imagined it.

His infatuation didn’t seem to disappear anytime soon either. If anything, now having the opportunity to observe you in closer proximity only deepened his feelings. He now got to witness the outgoing and bubbly personality that was wrapped in your cute exterior, exceeding all his expectations of what he had imagined you would be like — fascinated by how you seemed to excel in aspects where he lacked.

And the more time that passed, it seemed the day he would find the courage to catch up and walk along side you traveled further out of his reach.

He continued to admire from afar, watching as you earned yourselves new friendships as easily as putting your shoes on in the morning. Kento wasn’t the only one drawn to your outgoing personality and charming smile, his heart breaking a little when you formed a tight knit friend group and he didn’t get to be a part of it.

That’s how it went. Kento sort of just blended into the background, never making a number of himself. He was nearly certain no one really knew he even existed at all (except the teachers, who absolutely adored him). Day after day, he sat by himself with a book in his hands, only ever looking up to admire you for a few seconds as you would play with your friends.

However, he preferred the quiet life in school more than what it evolved into as second grade rolled around.

During recess, he would sit with his book, same as always, counting the minutes until school was over so he would walk those five familiar steps behind you — that’s when two third graders had approached him, their intention clear as day.

Their antics continued for two weeks — until what he thought was the voice of an angel interrupted.

“Hi there.”

Kento would recognise that voice anywhere, turning towards the source to see you, huge grin plastered on your face, both hands behind your back as you stared down the two third graders.

“What’s going on here?” You asked in such a sweet and innocent tone, but all three of the boys could see there was something borderline unfriendly in your eyes that was not present in your words.

“Doesn’t concern you,” one of the mean kids bit back.

“Hmm,” you hummed, pressing your lips together before shifting to a serious tone. “I think it does, because from over there-“ you pointed in the direction of where you had stood moments earlier, “it looked like you were picking on my friend.”

Friend? Had he heard you right?

Before they could retaliate, you had already opened your mouth again, “I’ll scream! The adults will come and you’ll be in biiiig trouble!” Your tone had been so cheerful, but that same threatening intent lingered in your gaze — a look one did not want to receive from a stubborn, little seven year old.

It seemed like your scare tactic worked, because after grumbling to themselves for a few seconds, they shuffled away with their tails between their legs. And once they were far enough away not to be a bother anymore, you squatted down on the gravel beside Kento, wrapping your arms around your legs.

“You okay, Kento?” Completely transformed, not a hint of your malice present any longer, just soft and genuine concern when speaking his name.

He blinked a few times, using the back of his hand to dry the few tears that had watered up in the corner of his eyes before he answered you. “‘M fine,” he sniffled, then daring to look you in the eyes to mutter a shy “thank you.”

“Anytime.”

You couldn’t explain why you had decided to interfere — because labelling Kento a friend wasn’t entirely true. The boy had barely said a word to you for the year you had known him, but you had just been filled with anger when you witnessed the older kids choose to pick on him. He did not have a mean bone in his body. And maybe somewhere along the line, you had gained a soft spot for the reserved kid, having not been able to stop glancing over your shoulder from time to time when you walked to and from school, just to make sure he was still there.

Never had Kento imagined that the taunting from his upperclassman would be his biggest blessing to date. He no longer sat alone during lunch, but instead accepted your invite to eat with you and your little clique.

And finally your friendship with Kento had the opportunity to grow.

Thanks to you, school had become a lot more enjoyable for him after that. The walks to and from school was no longer spent with an awkward distance, now matching your pace as you both indulged in small talk from the moment you left school until he left you at your door.

He knew he should have been satisfied, and in one way he was. He was finally allowed to call you his friend after all, but during school hours, you usually hung out the entire group. And on your spare time, you had a tendency to reserve your time just for the girls. So while he wished for more, he continued to shoot longing, and not so subtle, gazes across the table.

It abruptly changed when you were thirteen, walking home from school like any other day, when your blunt question had cut through the conversation.

“Hey, you want to go to the movies with me?”

“What?” Kento’s thirteen year old brain had not been able to comprehend the question, stopping dead in his tracks to stare at you with big eyes, swallowing the massive lump in his throat. Had you just asked him on a date?

You stopped when you noticed he did, staring right back at him like this wasn’t a big deal. “None of the girls were interested, and you’re the only boy in our group I can tolerate without any of the girls,” you rolled your eyes. You had turned a little feisty when entering your teens.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he said, drawing his lips into an awkward line, hoping he could play it off as a smile.

Your deadpanned expression immediately twisted into one of pure joy. “Great!”

Kento had stood in front of his mirror all afternoon, using both his hands to smoothen the crinkles of his shirt, treating it very much like a date. He didn’t even realise how long he had been stressing in his room until his mom came knocking, telling him you were waiting outside.

He had been a little disappointed when he saw you, because it became very evident you did not consider it a date. Wearing the same outfit you had worn to school that day, resting on the handlebars of your bike. “C’mon, we need to get popcorn before the movie starts,” you nagged, just the tiniest bit annoyed.

When stood in the kiosk, he had offered to pay for the popcorn, like the good, little gentleman he had been raised to be. “Oh, no need. Mom gave me money to pay for it,” you said cheerfully with a shrug and a smile. “Thanks, though.”

The movie couldn’t hold Kento’s attention, even if he wanted to, because for the whole ninety minutes you had your knee rested against his. The sensation of the shy touch of your leg had his heart beat so loud against his ribcage, he was scared you might turn to him and tell it to shush so you could hear the movie.

It wasn’t much, but the pressing feeling was definitely prominent enough that you had to be aware of it too. And in his mind, it seemed only logical you kept your leg still against his because you wanted it to touch him. But whenever he flickered his eyes over to you, you seemed utterly unbothered, attention fixated on the screen as your hand continued to grab popcorn from the bucket.

He tried to keep his breath even, letting his tension spill out by clenching and unclenching his fists. He was so determined to sit completely still, scared the tiniest flinch would cause you to shift your leg away from him.

Trips to the movies, just in each other’s company, became a regular occurrence after that. And about half of the time, you let him pay… only because you paid the other half, but he let himself wallow in the idea that he was treating you for the evening.

He was in high school when one of your friends had asked about it. “What’s really going on there, Kento?”

He had immediately decided to play dumb. Not because he was embarrassed, but if there was even the slightest chance it would feed them material they could use to make you uncomfortable, he wanted to avoid it. “What do you mean?”

“Come on, man,” he laughed mockingly. “You and her,” nodding towards where you stood with your girlfriends in the cafeteria line. “The two of you hang out with each other more than us these days.”

“I don’t know, we’re friends?” Kento shrugged, almost certain he was able to play it off as casual.

“Friends? Right, friends who constantly go on movie dates together.”

“They’re not dates,” was all he had been able to say to defend himself, feeling his cheeks grow hot like they had done when he was younger.

They had all chucked at him then. “Yeah, whatever man. Congratulations bagging the prettiest girl in school,” was the last thing that was said before you and the rest of the girls joined their table. You sat down beside Kento, like always.

Carefully, you had nudged his arm to get his attention. “You okay?” You asked quietly so only he could hear.

He gave you a weak but genuine smile. “Yes, just lost in thought is all.” You smiled back at him, making his heart skip a beat.

You don’t remember when it changed for you. If it had been a gradual thing, or if you had just woken up one day with this feeling — but something was definitely different.

The realisation had hit you mid sentence. Rambling on about some meaningless topic, like you always did, and suddenly you noticed the way he was looking at you.

He was listening so intently, not missing a single word coming from your mouth, a faint smile stamped at the corner of his lips and a tenderness in his eyes you hadn’t really noticed before. You only managed to snap out of it when he spoke your name.

“Am I losing you by not talking?” He teased before taking a sip out of his coffee.

“Shit,” you muttered, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “I just remembered this group assignment I have due tomorrow.” A lie — and an obvious one at that. But Kento didn’t get a moment to ask any follow-up questions before you had gathered your stuff and rushed to say goodbye, leaving him alone in the cafe.

For the entire walk home, you thought about Kento, now suddenly in a new light, reflecting over the entirety of your friendship.

You became aware of how he always seemed to prioritise you in the group without hesitation. You had just brushed it off, assuming he felt indebted to you for coming to his rescue when you were seven. But you realised now how ridiculous that sounded.

You thought of all the times he had come running when you had asked for him. Whether it was after a fight with one of your girlfriends, or a date that had gone horribly wrong, he dropped everything to be by your side.

You realised now why you always caught yourself answering with a frown when girls came to ask you about him. As you had gotten older, he had definitely grown into his looks, a subtle kind of handsome that snuck up on you.

When you got home, you had pulled out your phone to send a text to apologise for bailing so abruptly. But you typed and deleted the message twenty times over, anxiety you had never felt about him before overwhelming you. In the end, you ended up not sending anything at all, feeling like no words sufficed.

And the next time you met, you acted as if nothing had happened, and he just went along with it.

You tried desperately to act as if nothing had changed, beyond terrified you would scare him off or make him uncomfortable if he picked up on your new and revolutionary feelings for him. If there was one thing you were absolute certain about, it was that you would never do anything to jeopardise the friendship you had with him. There was no competition of what person in your life you cherished the most; Kento Nanami. You’d be the earth's biggest fool to gamble that away for anything.

When you were 16, you nearly caved.

In your desperate attempt of keeping things normal, you had continued your meaningless escapades — which meant going on terrible dates with even more terrible guys — turns out teenage boys are just assholes by default.

“It’s their loss,” Kento cooed in a warm tone, sitting beside you on your bed with a comforting arm around your shoulders.

In all honesty, you didn’t even care all that much about the date. You couldn’t even remember the guy’s name. No, your mind was way more interested in how his strong hand cupped your arm so perfectly.

You turned to look at him, faces closer than ever before. He happily held your gaze — you were just hoping he was able to read the messages it conveyed.

Tell me to stop seeing these guys, and I’ll stop.

Tell me you want me the way I want you.

Tell me it’s you I’m meant to be with.

“You’ll find someone worthy of you eventually.”

Your heart sunk, having built up your own expectations based on how his eyes had roamed your face as if he truly desired you. Maybe this was all in your head.

It wasn’t.

But Kento, much like you, didn’t want to lose you over anything. Confessing risked the relationship he already had with you. He would rather have you as a friend, than not have you in his life at all.

Not long after that, you both joined Jujutsu tech. Slowly but surely, you slipped away from your childhood group — him more than you. You tried your very best to stay in touch, though your new schedule made that hard.

With these new threats looming around you, neither of you could help how your friendship — or whatever you would call what was going on between you — continued to grow deeper. More serious. It went unsaid by the both of you, but there was just a mutual understanding that it was the logical development when there was the slightest possibility of it ending all too soon.

Still neither of you confessed.

You fell into routines, so accustomed to seeing him every minute of every day, your first instinct when returning from a mission was to find him.

As expected, Kento heard the three soft knocks he knew all too well at this point, before you squeezed through his door. With a deep exhale, you fell back on his bed, while he sat in his desk chair, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m exhausted.”

“Did you just get back?” His muscles were a little tense, like they always where whenever you had to go on a mission without him, his eyes searching every inch of you to see if there were any visible injuries he had to worry about.

“Little over an hour ago. Had to escape Gojo talking my ear off about his own mission.”

Kento observed how the corner of your lips tugged upwards in a tired smile, your chest vibrating with a soft chuckle.

He was always happy to see you come back unharmed, but he hated the exhaustion that rested in your joints — and it filled him with an unexplainable urge to help you somehow.

He imagined guiding you to lay on your stomach, placing his legs on each side of you and slowly soothing your muscles, rubbing caring motions along the curves of your body to fill it with the relaxation you deserved — but he couldn’t. It would definitely cross a line, too intimate for just friends.

“Glad you’re back,” he said almost in a whisper.

“Me too.” He could barely hear you, the mission slowly catching up with your energy as well, sensing on your breathing that you weren’t too far from falling asleep.

The silence that surrounded you was comfortable. You had grown so accustomed to each other’s presence, any awkwardness had ceased to exist. Nevertheless, Kento didn’t quite know what to do with himself, just looking at you sprawled out on his bed, a scene he would like to see every night.

“Kento?” Your voice was so soft.

“Yes?”

“Can I stay here tonight?”

He heard the slight hesitation in your voice before you expressed your request. Raising up his neck and face was a burning heat, his breathing coming out shallow as he didn’t quite know what to say.

Being a cautious man, he thought of every possible outcome.

It was prohibited, so he should decline. But he would hate himself forever if he simply sent you away because of the school’s outdated rules — he also knew he would regret it until his heart stopped beating.

So having you stay here was the only reasonable outcome — but then what? He supposed he would end up sleeping on the floor, like the gentleman he was. He would at least never assume he could sleep next to you, and he would not be as vulgar to ask.

He cleared his throat before speaking. “Of course. I’ll just-“

“Kento,” you said his name again, just as soft as always.

“Yeah?”

“There’s room for both of us on the bed.”

He had to swallow the massive lump that felt as if it was suffocating him. It at least stopped any further words to come out of his mouth. He slowly raised from the chair, floorboards creaking as he stepped over.

With his eyes locked on you, seemingly so calm with your eyes closed, he positioned himself beside you so he was facing you.

Goosebumps prickled up his arm when he felt your breath fan against his face, and he wondered how you managed to keep it in such an even rhythm. Didn’t this closeness send lightning through your body like it did for him, temptation threatening the act of finally crossing the line?

There was a crease between your eyebrows that seemed unintentional, like the events of the day had just planted themselves on your face and even your calm breathing couldn’t ease it. Against his better judgment, Kento’s urges steered his thumb towards your face, not reflecting over his action before he had ran his skin across the crinkle to smoothen the tension.

Shit, he thought to himself, certain you would open your mouth to tell him off — instead he saw how there had been a slight strain to your shoulders that was now released.

While he let his eyes roam your face, taking in every breathtaking aspect of your beauty, he felt a small spark of fear fill him at how right it all felt — lying next to you, so close he could feel the warmth radiate from your skin, his soft touch being able to bring rest to your body, the mere idea that he could envelop you in his arms if he wanted to.

“I’m happy you’re here with me,” your voice startled him a little, as he had assumed you had already fallen into the oblivion of sleep. “I’d never be able to navigate this world without you.”

“That’s not true.” Your eyes opened to meet his, catching his breath immediately, so stunningly deep he always felt himself fall into them. “You’ve always been the one looking out for me.”

You chuckled a little at that, endless memories of the two of you throughout childhood. “I guess in one way. But you’ve always kept me afloat.”

“You give yourself too little credit.” He had to stop himself from letting his fingers graze your cheek in the most tender caress. “You would have done just fine on your own.”

A small smile of flattery dared dance on your lips. “But I don’t want to.” It felt like a confession, unspoken feelings hidden within those words, begging for him to be able to deduce the true meaning. “Thinking of a life where you’re not at my side scares me.”

“Let’s never find out what that life is like.”

Kento would later eat those words.

Haibara’s death hit Kento the hardest. Numerous evenings were spent in the eerie silence of his cold dorm. When he cried, you held him. When he was trying to distract himself by reading, you sat and watched him, keeping him company. When he went the entire night without sparing you the slightest gaze, you knew you had overstayed your welcome, leaving him to be alone for a night.

“I don’t think I will continue to be a sorcerer.”

That was the first thing he said that hadn’t been a complete necessity, and it sent a spike of ice down your spine, not daring to understand his statement right away.

“Oh,” was the only thing you could think of to respond that did not entertain his idea.

His eyes met yours, the eye contact more intense than it had been for days, realising just how much you had missed having his kind eyes directed at you. Seemed like he felt it too, as the smallest gasp slipped out of him.

“I mean it.”

The tears instantly burned in your eyes, blinking them away before they had the chance to come running. “That's what scares me,” your voice betrayed you as the usual confidence came out cracked.

He didn’t push it any further, reading you as an open book — you knew he was telling the truth, but refused to acknowledge it. It was like if you ignored his statement, it would somehow end differently.

Luckily, after that night, Kento started to somewhat fall back to his old self. His smile started to return, it was easier to hold a conversation with him, which you obviously appreciated — however, he had planted a fear in you that had taken your body hostage.

You abandoned any sense of boundaries entirely, hanging onto his arm at all times. It was only when you were physically aware of his frame you were able to cling onto a string of peace. Feeling his body glued at your side only served as a confirmation that he was still here, and as long as you held on he couldn’t go anywhere. He couldn’t leave.

And whenever you had to pry yourself off of him to tend to your responsibilities where he wasn’t assigned, you were constantly living in a state of anxiety. Foot tapping against the floor, picking at your skin, petrified you would end up returning to see his room stripped of any signs of life — that he would have finally done the thing he said he would do, and part with the Jujutsu world.

Every time you returned, the sweetest sensation of relief washed over you, tears welling up immediately when he always stood ready to greet you. “Hey you,” he said softly, pulling you into his arms, holding you tight until he could physically feel your body let go of the stress that had tainted every muscle, every joint, for the entire time you had been separated.

But graduation day came and time was up.

You had held onto hope he would eventually change his mind, that it was only the initial grief that had weighed heavy on his conscience. But you were now standing in his bare room, everything packed into cardboard boxes. Of course it had only been a childish dream to think he would stay — there was no changing his mind.

“I really am sorry.” He was so earnest, like always, making it hard to be mad at him even though you so desperately wanted to. He genuinely had so much compassion, his hands stroking your arms in an attempt to calm the bouncing of your shoulders that followed the frantic rhythm of your sobs.

“I just don’t understand why?” You continued to sob, sentence coming out in sad intervals as you heaved for air.

“This isn’t right. It’s not right of them to expect us to be okay with watching our partners lay down their lives like this.”

You wanted so badly to scream at him, bang your fists against his chest before clasping onto his shirt so he wouldn’t even have the opportunity to leave. You knew it was unwarranted for you to feel that way, but the fact that he was following through with his stunt felt like a betrayal.

“You said we weren’t going to find out what this would be like.”

His heart shattered. Looking into your doe eyes, tainted red with sorrow as the sentence laced with innocence sent him back to every fragile evening throughout your journey together he had spent comforting you. How many tears he had dried, happily so? But this time it was his doing — him who brought you to a state of despair so grave you couldn’t breathe, and he knew this time he wouldn’t be able to comfort you.

Waiting for his next words were torture, time at a standstill watching his mouth open and close while he constructed the sentence in his mind. Though useless, the glimmer of hope refused to die out, begging for his surrender — you’re right, I’ll stay.

“I’m sorry.”

Another one of your earth shattering sobs came flying past your lips, stabbing him right in the heart that had only ever beaten for you.

Comforting you would always be second nature to him, which had his hands cup your face and pulling it closer to rest his forehead against yours. He wished, begged, for his touch to bring you comfort one last time before he left. But your body continued to shake. “It’ll be okay,” he tried to reassure you, spoken in a faint whisper. Repeating it over and over, waiting for his small affirmations to take affect — they never did.

Ask me to come with you.

Those six words played like a broken record in your mind, knowing you would pack your bags and abandon this god forsaken life at the drop of a hat if he just asked you to.

Come with me.

The request laid restless at the tip of his tongue, fighting every voice in him that was screaming at him to be selfish. But he couldn’t with you, never with you.

Unlike him, you had a purpose in this world — you were able to see the good in what you did, and he would never be able to forgive himself if he ripped you away from it no matter how much he wanted to.

There seemed like there was no limit to your tears. Shuddering against his touch, he sensed your body didn’t have much energy left to stand. He ended up leading the two of you to his bed, stripped bare to just the mattress, duvet folded at the end. Without any words spoken, you laid down in his arms, burying your face in his chest while the sobs continued to tumble out uncontrollably.

His strong arms locked around you, holding you as close to him as humanly possible, letting the illusion of him never disappearing from you live on for another night.

Eventually your sobs calmed down, only happening sporadically. The shaking stopped and he felt your breathing even out, telling him you had finally been able to let sleep consume you.

He couldn’t stop himself — placing a chaste kiss at the crown of your head, mumbling quiet and secret apologies before sleep caught him too.

According to Gojo, his departure had been quick. He hadn’t said much, just given them all a nod before grabbing his bags and disappearing.

You had decided against seeing him off. The two of you had said your goodbyes the night before in the solemn of his empty dorm. It had been wet, heartbreaking and nothing short of painful, but at least it had been private between the two of you. No one knew how your tears had soaked his shirt, or how your fists had created crinkles in the fabric while desperately holding onto him. No one knew how you had cried until the exhaustion knocked you out in his arms, so scared to wake up to face the new reality where Kento wasn’t at your immediate side like he had been since you were kids.

You couldn’t really remember what it was like to not have him there. Even before you had grown close, he had always lingered, the one thing in your life that had stayed consistent throughout it all was him.

The next weeks were absolutely torture, having to feed the people surrounding you endless lies of “I’m fine, really.” You were really just trying to prevent yourself from letting the reality set in properly. If that can of worms were to open again, you had no clue when or how you would be able to stop it. Last time you had still been able to seek some comfort against his warmth, only able to stop it because you practically passed out.

Not a single moment passed where he didn’t cross your mind, small things reminding you of him. All your little routines — for days you forgot to grab lunch because you were so used to him bringing it to you. For days you ended up with one towel too many, because you always brought an extra for him after training. Mundane things you had always taken for granted, gone in an instant.

Despite feeling a little betrayed, you couldn’t really blame him either. So you reached deep within yourself to try and stay positive. It wasn’t like he was gone gone, he had just retreated to a normal life.

You stayed in touch, sending regular updates about how you were getting by in the world of curses without him — lying of course. When he had left, he had taken some of the purpose you had in it all with him. But you didn’t want him to worry. You told him how you eventually started teaching at Jujutsu High alongside Gojo, and it felt nice to be responsible for the next generation of sorcerers.

And at first you received regular updates in return. He got himself a quaint little apartment that fitted his needs perfectly. You even got a few blurry photos of how he had tried to decorate it so it would feel more homely — you had cried when you received those.

You never called each other though. It seemed like there was a mutual understanding that it would be too unbearable to hear the voice of the other.

After a while, the updates slowly came to a halt. You kept on sending yours however, only for that little checkmark to appear and confirm he had read it. But no answer — you cried then too.

Had you said something or done something to make him cut the contact? You never managed to wrap your head around why he stopped showing you his new life.

Kento had never wanted to stop sending the messages — on the contrary. If anything, he had to stop himself from not telling you about every single minute of his day, even the most meaningless things, just as an excuse to talk to you.

But one day, thanks to a white haired little birdie, all consuming guilt had struck him. “She doesn’t say it, but she’s miserable.”

He held his breath, his fingers unintentionally clenching tighter around his phone. “She is?” His voice came out faint. He heard Gojo let out a deep sigh at the other end of the line.

“She tries. Very hard. I stopped asking a long time ago because she kept lying anyways.”

“Oh.” Kento had been a fool, believing your words when he had read them on his screen. When he hadn’t been able to hear the tone behind the statements, he had been able to convince himself they were genuine. But of course you were lying — he was, after all.

“But I think she really enjoys teaching,” Gojo said after a moment of sad silence, trying to fill the conversation with some optimism. “And the kids love her.”

“Yes, I can imagine as much,” a small smile appearing on his lips, picturing the scene of you with the young students.

“Look, I have to run, she’s waving me over. Should I-“

“No!” Kento rushed to cut him off. “No, don’t say anything. Please.”

He made up his mind then and there — he was not going to cause you any more pain. So he had to let you go entirely to allow you to move on. The way he was selfishly clinging onto the crumps you gave him seemed to do you no good, if the image Gojo painted was accurate.

So he stopped. Even though his fingers urged to reach out, he fought against it, for you.

You, however, could not hinder how your finger pressed the send button every now and then. The updates definitely became less frequent when he went radio silent, but you did not have the strength to stop. If you stopped… there was a fear he would never come back.

Kento was supposed to share his life with you.

He had believed so ever since he was a little kid, ogling you from afar before he even knew your name. The way you made his heart jump and pulse quicken had to be his body’s way of telling him you were meant to be with him, quickly growing addicted, dependent, on the reactions you created in him without trying.

But he had made the drastic choice of abandoning that feeling, convinced the alternative did you harm — and the mere concept of being the reason you even felt the faintest glimmer of discomfort was something he could not live with.

He welcomed the misery, a small price to pay for the belief that you were doing better now. He also thought he had good reason to believe that was the case.

The updates you sent him were few and far between these days, but it did paint a picture. You were rarely in the photos, but there was an energy present in the moments eternalised that seemed pleasant and positive. He imagined you had found your role, your place in life where you would get to fulfil your potential. And whether or not he was there was irrelevant.

He convinced himself his own insecurities were a reality to make it easier to bear.

Ever since childhood, you had been the headstrong one. The independent one. The brave one. It always lingered in the back of his mind whenever he just observed you in different scenarios — that it really didn’t matter if he was there or not, forever just an accessory to your life. He even feared he was holding you back somehow.

So it was only reasonable to think time away from him would have provided you with the playing field to develop into the best version of yourself… right?

Years went by and Kento’s pain didn’t ease. He missed you — every single day. And he kept living in that constant state of torture for you, until the fantasy shattered.

It was just another day, nothing out of the ordinary. Kento was going about his drowsy routines of stopping by the same bakery he did every morning before work. However today, he was nearly tackled by two kids, a boy and a girl about the age of six, once he entered the building.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” a grown woman rushed over to apologise as she brought the children back to their little table.

“It’s no problem,” he mumbled monotonously, eyes following them as they scattered back to their seats, where another woman sat.

A wave of nostalgia crashed over him, feeling like he had the privilege of looking back in time. The little boy resembled a young Kento Nanami, his blonde locks neatly styled, chubby, red cheeks and a baby-blue button up shirt — a rather mature attire for a six year old.

And the boy had his eyes glued on his friend, a girl the same age, very evidently the more outgoing out of the two. She was rambling enthusiastically, arms waving all over the place as he told her story down to the smallest detail, exhibiting the same spark you always had.

The boy kept a glare of pure awe as he followed her every word, seen so clearly in his eyes how much he admired her. And Kento knew how this story would continue — that night the boy would lay in his bed, the biggest smile on his face, unable to fall asleep as the day spent with his friend would play on repeat in his mind — much like Kento had spent countless nights when he was young.

It wasn’t until the girl behind the counter called for him he was able to pull his attention away from the all too familiar scene.

So polite, a sweet smile on her face as she served him the same thing he ordered every day. And then she asked how he was sleeping. It fascinated him, how this girl didn’t owe him anything, and had her own worries — like the little curse sat on her shoulder — and still showed concern for him.

He had noticed the curse before, but purposely never done anything about it. It wasn’t a proper threat, and it would be more of a hustle for him to deal with the reactions of ridding her of it than let it be. But now, having the innocent scene a few feet from him remind him of you, he quickly began to consider doing the girl a favour.

You would have exorcised it — without hesitation.

Not just that, you would probably give him crap for not exorcising it immediately. It wouldn't cost him anything to do it, so why wouldn’t he?

“Could you take a step forward, please?” Kento asked politely, the girl a little confused but doing as he said. He had your voice in the back of his mind while he easily exorcised the curse with one swift motion, the strain in her shoulder easing immediately.

“Huh? It’s lighter!” She exclaimed, rolling her arm around at the newfound relief.

“If anything still feels off, please go to the hospital,” he said with a small nod. He grabbed his food and headed for the exit, sparing one last glance at the table where the two kids sat, still deep in the conversation.

His lungs let out a deep, involuntary breath when the realisation dawned on him — he could no longer stay away, caving to his desires.

Maybe enough time had passed for it not to be considered selfish? If you had in fact found your place where you were content and comfortable, and meeting him again would be causal for you?

The questions kept circulating his mind as he pulled out his phone to dial the one person who would be able to set it all up at the blink of an eye.

His whole world stopped when he saw you, and he wondered how he had ever thought it a good idea to leave you — how could he possibly have survived all that time without you?

It was almost painful how his heart was clawing at the inside of his chest, desperate to be with you. It wasn’t until he felt the overwhelming pounding he realised his heart had not beat properly for the years he had spent away — meant to beat in unison with yours. His skin was turning cold as ice and the only way for it to regain its warmth was your touch, your soft embrace.

Kento hadn’t known what to expect when he saw you again, but he had certainly thought he would have more rational and coherent thoughts. Right now, it was all scrambling in his head and the only thing that appeared clearly in his mind was you, framed in the halo of your aura, taking his breath as way just as easily as when he was six.

With his body going numb, he observed you interact with Gojo and two kids he assumed were your students. You looked calm, a small smile decorating the plump line of your lips — it wasn’t as radiant as it used to be. In fact, your entire energy just seemed a little off. Maybe you had just gotten home from a mission, or it has been a hectic day in general.

Truth was not so mundane. You wished it was as simple as a long and tiring day. That would mean you could just jump in bed and sleep it off, ready to face a new day tomorrow.

But the day Kento left the jujutsu society behind, he unintentionally stole your spark with him.

You could never hate him for it though, he didn’t know. He only did what he felt like he needed to do, and you would be a terrible friend to stand in the way of that. But you had no control over how your mind decided to react.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder was something you had always heard growing up, and you had never really understood it — until faced with the situation yourself.

Not a day went by where you didn’t think of Kento. You thought of how his grin always grew slowly when watching you, eventually revealing the shy smile lines across his cheeks. The ghost of his touch, which was always dancing the line of appropriate or not, never leaving your mind. Sometimes you still felt the imprint of his arms around you.

“Don’t you guys listen to him for a second,” you chuckled, the tiniest hint of frustration in your voice. “Gojo doesn’t qualify as a responsible adult.”

His jaw fell to the ground in fake offence, eyebrows narrowing at the innocent laughs spilling from the students. “You were never this mean when we were younger,” he whined, folding his arms across his chest, looking like a stubborn child.

“That’s what you think,” you teased, nudging an elbow into his side. “You should have heard the things we said about you behind closed doors.”

His big hand came piercing through the air, pressing it against your face, gently shoving you away from the conversation. A lighthearted, but genuine, little laugh escaped you. “We don’t want to hear what you and your little boyfriend did in private,” Gojo rolled his eyes, pretending to gag at the made up memories.

Annoying as he was, Gojo had a way to actually make you forget the pain of it all for a few seconds. You would never tell him, obviously, that he managed to put the storm inside your head on hold for a second — he would rub it in your face every chance he got.

“Wait, senpai had a boyfriend when she attended here?” One of the students interjected and suddenly the mood of the conversation shifted. Gojo’s hand fell from your face before he shot you an apologetic smile.

For the most part, it was never a problem whenever Kento was brought up in the company of Gojo and Shoko. Everything was out in the open between the three of you, shared history taking away some of the pain. But whenever it slipped outside your little trio, it quickly became a sore topic.

Mouth opening and closing, trying to find the words to answer without having to give an explanation. Luckily, a painfully familiar voice called your name behind you, instantly sending a shiver down your spine.

All of you turned towards the voice, and you couldn’t help but let out an audible gasp at the beautiful image of your other half standing in front of you after all these years.

Your heart’s instinct steered your body, quickly stepping away from the group and latching your arms around Kento’s neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He didn’t hesitate to close his strong arms around your frame, fitting right into the slots they used to fill. His familiar scent filled your senses, memories flooding back in an instant.

“Huh, speak of the devil,” Gojo mumbled.

“Him? That was her boyfriend?”

Gojo quickly snapped out of it. “Let’s give them some privacy, shall we,” and started rushing away the nosy teens.

Kento’s grip loosened and you pulled away, but neither of you dared let your hands leave each other. Your own hands ended up cupping his face, forcing him to keep his eyes on you until it hit you he was actually with you again — he let his rest on your waist, feeling the restlessness in him by how strongly his palms were pressing against you.

He was here. He was actually here.

There was a deafening silence filling the space of your office. You could feel it in the tension that both of you wanted to say something, but there was an unspoken pressure of saying the right thing.

So you let your eyes roam him, taking in the differences in his appearance.

He was gorgeous, same subtle handsomeness as he had always possessed, but a new confidence displaying it. Everything about him was more defined, sharp features drawing attention to his face, his muscles filling his shirt in a way they never did before.

“So, you and Gojo seem to work well together,” he swallowed, causing embarrassment to flush your face when he pulled you from your blatant admiring.

“We’ve found a rhythm that works for us, I suppose,” you shrugged.

He shifted awkwardly in his seat, arms flexing as he crossed them in front of him. “That’s good. I’m glad.” His tone of his short statements seemed to imply otherwise.

“He’s surprisingly good at his job,” you laughed, “the kids like him.”

“Who would have thought,” there was a pull of his lips, like he tried to smile but it didn’t succeed entirely.

“Not me, that’s for sure. I don’t know, he just meets them were their at.” You really wanted to stop rambling about Gojo. It was so clearly just a desperate way for you to replace the quiet that plagued you without touching the elephant in the room. “Don’t get me wrong, they find him insufferable, but I think they secretly really like him. Much like the rest of us.”

“Sounds about right.”

You squinted at him, slowly growing somewhat antsy. “You’re not jealous of Gojo, are you?”

Of course you still saw right through him. He, who usually managed to hide his true feelings, would never be able to conceal them from you. And he was jealous, petrified that he had made the biggest mistake of his life and Gojo had ended up taking the place that was supposed to be for him only.

“Is there something to be jealous of?”

“You tell me.”

The tension was thick, nearly suffocating, years of yearning and pining fuelling the energy. The reunion only served as a dangerous spark that threatened to set the fuse ablaze at any second.

Why couldn’t he take the first step? He was the one who had showed up all of a sudden, and he still hadn’t given you any explanation. He owed you that much, right? But he kept letting his restlessness control him, one leg bouncing quietly against the floor, hearing how the cogs in his mind were turning.

“Why are you here?”

Your words were soft, but Kento knew you well enough to know the true feelings that lingered in the question.

“I’m coming back.”

“You’re coming back?” You weren’t able to withhold the bite that was slowly making its way into your tone.

“Only if you’re comfortable with it.”

“Don’t do that,” your voice threatened to crack. “I don’t want that responsibility.”

He sighed deeply, unfolding his arms to rest his elbows on his spread knees. “That wasn’t my intention. I’m sorry.”

Always so polite. Always acknowledging his faults before they had the opportunity to grow. Always so damn righteous.

“What I meant to say is it looks like you’ve really managed to establish yourself here, and I wouldn’t want to come in and cause any discomfort by intruding what is essentially your space.”

The sound that escaped you next was a mixture between a flat laugh and a scoff, not entirely appreciating the way he was behaving. “Have we been apart so long you can’t talk to me like I’m your best friend?”

That had him look up at you, meeting your eyes instantly. You were sad, visible on your entire demeanour — maybe not to the average person looking, but he saw, still able to read you like an open book.

“Hope not,” he tried to smile, lips formed into a tight line that exposed how nervous he really was. His attention shifted to look at his fists folded together, words resting on his tongue, he just wanted to be sure it came out right. “I’ve missed you.” Silence. “There hasn’t been a day where you haven’t crossed my mind.”

“Sounds familiar.” There was no hiding the flush crawling up his neck and colouring the tips of his ears red at the sound of your confession.

“It was the thought of you that finally convinced me.”

“Why now?”

“Because enough time should have passed for you to thrive without me.”

“If that’s the case, you’ll have to keep waiting.”

You had him gagged, no clue how to respond. For some reason, he had refused to believe you were still hung up on him the way he was. There weren’t any reason for you to hold onto the idea of him — yet you had, for dear life.

Abruptly you stood up from your chair, hands running through your hair in frustration, trying to make sense of his sudden visit.

You stopped in your pacing, back faced him and hands on your hips — then he saw your shoulders begin to shake, followed by stifled sobs. These were the situations he always used to know what to do, moving on autopilot to bring you the comfort you needed.

Did his hands remember how to soothe you? Did his voice still know how to form the right words to say? Did his presence still know how to envelope you until you felt happy again? There was only one way to find out.

Quickly stepping over to you, his hands hovered over your shoulders for a second in fear. He swallowed his selfishness and let them land to settle the bouncing, leaning his head forward to rest it against the back of yours, the smell of your shampoo surrounding him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered and it only seemed like his apology opened the valve, no longer able to choke your sobs. Your hands left your hips to cover your face, muffling the sadness tumbling out in one stream.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he continued to mutter, head moving to press it to the side of your face. One hand traveled across your collarbone, the other around your waist to pull you as close to him as possible, determined to hold you there until he was absolutely certain you were okay.

He would stand there the whole night if he needed to.

Slowly but surely, your sobs came to a stop, your trembling eventually easing against his body. But he didn’t loosen his grip, not until he felt you shift in his arms to face him.

Cry painted cheeks, delicate red rim around your eyes, glossy irises that stared right into the deepest parts of him that only you had access to.

Everything started to fall back into place, his big hand cupping your cheek as he stroked your hair out of your face. He let his eyes dart delicately across your face, taking in every single detail.

Then he let his longing get the best of him, thumb graciously tracing your bottom lip turned swollen from when you tried to swallow your sobs.

There was slight hesitation while he leaned forward, never having experienced time moving as slow as you waited for his lips to connect with yours. First, he let his nose brush against yours, testing the waters.

Please.

You felt his breath.

Don’t make me wait any longer.

Sparks.

Soft lips pressed against yours, moving tenderly in unison that sent intense sparks through your body from head to toe. The moment easily surpassed any of the fantasies you’d had of kissing him.

Needy fingers traveled up his broad chest before hooking your arms around his neck, pulling him closer — it still didn’t feel close enough.

Kento poured everything he had always wanted to say into the kiss — and he knew you understood. If he had learned anything from everything you had been through together, it was he could always trust you were able to understand him completely, even without anything being said.

When you pulled away you found yourself breathless. Meeting his eyes again, unexpected shyness you weren’t used to experience with Kento had you hide your face in his chest.

The roles had reversed, his warm chuckle serving as a comforting blanket. Oh, how you had missed that melody.

“Took you long enough,” you mumbled, hoping the teasing would have your normal confidence return.

His finger found your chin to tilt your head up, capturing your gaze. “Yeah, I should have done it ages ago.”

The previous sadness still lingered, and it was evident you still had a lot to talk about. But right now it was nice to just wallow in his presence again. It was way overdue, feeling like it should have been like this since forever.

“I really am sorry.”

“I think I can find it in myself to forgive you.” Your innocent jab was received with a dashing smile, tingles spreading throughout your limbs at the sight.

“Hope so, sweetheart,” he breathed quietly before he leaned in again.

They sat staring at each other, Kento with a raised eyebrow while a grumpy Gojo was positioned on the couch opposite him, legs and arms crossed in annoyance.

“You used to be nice.”

Kento scoffed at his colleague’s childish behaviour. “I still am, you’re just upset you’re not getting it your way.”

“But why?” Gojo cried dramatically.

“Why? What do you mean why? Because it’s not your wedding.”

“Were you always this boring?”

“Most definitely.”

“Will you guys please shut up?” You interrupted, unable to ignore them anymore. You had desperately tried to block them out as you were doing some paperwork you should have done ages ago.

“He started it!” Gojo pointed at Kento, which only had him roll his eyes.

“You know what,” you sighed as you gathered your stuff and raised from behind the desk. “It’s with a heavy heart I leave you, but I need to get this done by the end of the day.” You stopped behind Kento, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Sorry, honey,” he said genuinely as he gazed up at you lovingly.

“I am not asking for much-“ Gojo continued to argue before you interrupted him.

“Will you pay for it?”

“Is that all it’ll take?” He beamed, and you nodded. “Of course! Done! How much do you need?”

“You’re too lenient when it comes to him,” Kento sighed.

“It’s not the craziest thing he could request. He’ll get his endless supply of sweets, and you won’t have to listen to his obnoxious nagging anymore.”

“I’m sitting right here.” Both you and Kento ignored him.

“I really have to get this work done though,” you sighed, hand squeezing his shoulder.

“See you at home?” His loving smile had you lean down to press your lips tenderly against his.

“See you at home.”

“I’ll have dinner ready.”

“God, I love you.”

Then he flashed you that smile — the smile which was reserved solely as a response whenever you said those three words he used to dream of hearing from you.

It was funny really, how after everything things would turn out exactly how he as always wanted them to. Despite the hopelessness he had felt and all the pain you had endured — both together and apart — would eventually lead up to the happy ending he had dreamed of since the young age of five.

He knew he would do it all over again, in every universe, if it ensured this outcome.

“I love you too.”

tags @sad-darksoul @toadtoru

an anon, i am so sorry if this ended up longer than you wanted it. idk what happened, bc it just kept on snowballing <3 however, i am very touched you wanted me to do this request. warms my heart. hope it turned out okay mwah also, if you've read my satoru childhood friends to lovers fic and see any similarities, no you don't comments and reblogs is much appreciated

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[chaussetteblanche]

and they were roommates pt. 3

pairing : Spencer Reid x fem!student!roommate!reader summary : life on campus with a killer on the loose, the FBI makes an arrest word count : 2k warning : canon-typical violence, swear words (one use of the f-word) A/N : thank you so so much for all the love on this story !!! I'm so glad you all enjoy it <333 I'll probably do a part 4, it may be the last part, idk yet :)

part 1, part 2, part 4

"Spencer, I realise your concern, but lots of women look somewhat like this." It wasn't lost on Spencer what Hotch was trying to do by calling by his first name. "Hotch, she- she could be right next to them. She fits his type right down to the colour of her eyes!" "Spencer, man, you need to think rationally." Derek placed a hand on Spencer's shoulder. "Lots of women have that hair colour and length, it's in style right now, right Emily?" "Yeah, definitely." "Look, I just- I need to make a call."

When Spencer had called you sometime in the evening, you'd been expecting him to tell you he was going to come home late and to not wait up for him. What you weren't expecting was for his voice to be the most serious and stern you'd ever heard it. "Don't go outside until I come home, okay?" He knew it was entirely irrational. The unsub only took women in broad daylight, you weren't facing any more risks than usual. But he couldn't take a chance. Not with this. Not with you. "What? Why?" "Just- I'll explain everything when I come home, I'll be there in a couple hours, but please, don't leave the apartment. And make sure everything is locked." "Spencer, what's going on?" "Can you just-" He paused, forcing himself to remain calm. "Look, do as I say, please. I'll explain everything later, I promise." You hesitated for a moment. Luckily for you, you weren't working at the bar tonight. Luckily for Spencer, you liked him enough to indulge him. "Okay." "Thank you."

"Oh my God, no, absolutely not!" "Y/N, it's for your safety, don't you understand that?!" "My safety? What about my life?"

This was the first real fight you'd ever had. You'd had disagreements, of course, he didn't like you leaving your empty cups and glasses all over the place. You told him off for waking you in the morning by making too much noise. Sometimes you'd get jealous if Geoffrey slept in Spencer's bed rather than yours. Yes, you'd had your fair share of arguments, but none quite like this.

"I'm not asking you to give up your life, you're being totally-" You scoffed loudly, interrupting him. "Spencer, you might as well! Do you realise what you're suggesting I do? You want me to give up on going outside, not go to any of my classes, not see any of my friends, not go to work, don't you see what bullshit that is? It's putting a cross on my social life, my education and my work!" You gesticulated angrily as you speak, feeling heat rising to your face. "I already told you, it's for your own safety." He sighed loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. He wasn't even looking at you. A tiny, tiny piece of you wanted to slap him. "I will not stop living my life because some psycho thinks it's fun to kill innocent girls! I won't!" You crossed your arms over your chest and resisted the urge to stomp your foot.

"You're being incredibly childish right now." You hated how he managed to stay calm. You wanted him to get just as angry as you were, livid even. It wasn't fair that you were the only one getting upset. "Are you making all the girls who look like me give up everything for the sake of their safety?" Your tone was mocking and mean but you didn't have it in you to care at the moment. He met your eyes at last, lips turned downwards into a frown. Finally, some sort of emotion. "Don't do that, Y/N," he warned in a low voice. "No, I think it's a valid question. Is your boss making an announcement to the press that all the girls in Mary Washington University who look like the three last girls should stay inside? Is he?" you pushed. Spencer looked away from you again, shaking his head in disbelief at your attitude. "No, he isn't."

"Then why do you expect me to do that?!" You threw your hands in the air, beyond frustrated. For a logical person, Spencer's behaviour wasn't making any sense at the moment. "I don't expect you to do it. I want you to do it, I need you to do it." You could feel his calm facade breaking, piece by piece. "Why, Spencer, fucking why?!" "Because!" He finally exploded, jumping to his feet and slapping his palms onto the table. You didn't jump. "Because it's you, Y/N! I can't work this case if I know you're in danger every single day! If I know yours could be the next dead body students ogle at on the university's front lawn! If I know it's your picture they're going to hang up next to the other victims! I just can't do it!"

Oh.

You let yourself fall down on the couch, running your hands over your face. You were both stepping into uncharted territory. You'd tip-toed this line before but had never crossed it yet. And this was not the way to do it. You were not going to cross the border from friendship into something more by screaming at each other. Spencer seemed to read your silence as distress.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell." He softly trudged over to the couch and sat down next to you. "No, it's okay, I- I kind of wanted you to. I'm sorry for getting so upset." You take his hand in your lap and intertwine your fingers. "I understand, I'm asking too much of you, it's selfish." He gives your hand a squeeze. "I just can't stand the thought of anything happening to you." You sit in silence for a little while, processing.

"I just can't hide while I wait for other girls to be killed, Spencer, it wouldn't be fair." Sometimes, Spencer hated how good of a person you were. If your morals and personal ethics were some of the things he liked about you the most, he couldn't help but curse them in this moment. "I don't care about fair," he mumbled, hating how puerile he sounded. You cooed and laid your head on his shoulder. "I know, I'm sorry."

"I won't promise you anything, but I'll try to always be with someone around campus. I'm usually with my friends anyway. And I can share my location with you all the time if that's reassuring for you." "I'd like that, thank you. And... what about when you're at work?" "I can ask Paul to walk me to my car." Paul was the manager at the bar you worked at, Quantequila. His past was a mysterious blend of prison, MMA fighting and crochet clubs. He liked you plenty and you knew he wouldn't mind walking you to your car for a while. "Thank you."

Over the next week, you did just that. Many students started moving in groups and avoiding being alone at all costs after the FBI released the profile and the pictures of the last victims.

"We're looking for a local white man, early twenties. He may have moved here a year ago, we figure he's either in his first year of BA or MA. This is someone you don't notice, he's shy and introverted, he doesn't participate in class and he won't talk to people if he can help it, especially not women. This man is a loner and does his best to be invisible. We think he stalks his victims for a while before attacking them, so if you start seeing someone you've never seen before in strange places, please notify us. My name is Aaron Hotchner and you'll find the hotline on the screen you're watching this on."

You always had at least two friends with you whenever you were roaming about on campus. Though no one really spoke about the situation, the energy had changed. People were becoming tense and suspicious. Friends were fighting over who should accompany who, when and where. A place which had once gathered so many motivated and joyous students now had those very people looking over their shoulder.

You hated it.

Truly, you didn't want to underestimate this killer, but you were getting tired of it all. You'd wish the BAU would just catch him, but, as Spencer had explained to you multiple times, they had incredibly little to go on. What you knew without him telling you was that they needed another victim to predict his next move. Still, you were a person who appreciated alone time and you had gotten none in the last 10 days. So, when two of your friends who were supposed to walk with you from your class to the subway bailed on you, you weren't that upset.

You put your headphones on, listening to your favourite song of the moment and started walking. You had a tendency of getting lost in your thoughts and didn't notice the sound of heavy footsteps following your own over your music. What you did notice though, was the reflection of someone walking close behind you in a cafe window. You looked over your shoulder, frowning. The sun was in your eyes, blocking your vision, but you managed to perceive an average-sized man with long-ish black hair which hung around his face in greasy strands. Not thinking too much of it, you continued on your way.

You didn't think too much of it when you saw him sitting a few tables away from you when you were studying one afternoon at the library. You were captivated by the Middle English poem under your eyes, wondering what the author had meant with the particular use of the kenning "earth-cave". When you looked up and caught his eyes, cold and unnerving, you didn't overthink it. There were some weird people on campus. Who were you to judge?

When you saw him at your grocery store, though, that was when you started worrying. You were picking up a box of After-Eights for Spencer when you saw him looking at oatmeal raisin biscuits. What really tipped you off was that no one really liked those, so he must have been pretending to look occupied. A chill ran down your spine as all the other places you'd spotted him came back to you. Your lecture hall, the cafeteria, sitting in the lawn under a tree, the main hall,...

You decided that the next time you would see him, you'd tell Spencer. You didn't want him to worry if this turned out to be nothing. Maybe the man was just an exchange student? Or had joined during the academic year?

Two days later, the FBI made an arrest. A man named Ben Colton fitted the profile exactly. In his dorm room, they'd found pictures of women who looked exactly like the last victims and of resembling women on campus, you were part of them. You didn't know that, Spencer had felt you didn't need to be aware of that specific detail. The only problem was that the BAU had no physical evidence tying him to the crimes yet. The arrest had been sanctioned by higher authorities while physical proof was searched for. Police dogs and officers had been tearing through all of his possessions while Garcia had gone through his entire online life. Nothing tying him to the murders had been found.

The general public knew nothing of this, of course. To them, someone getting arrested meant they could go on with their usual lives. The man you'd been seeing left and right had left your mind entirely as you celebrated your regained freedom with your friends.

Of course, Spencer had warned you. They were 99% sure this was the unsub, they just needed the evidence. That didn't eliminate the 1% chance it wasn't him. But 99% chances were good enough for you. You trusted the BAU. Specifically, you trusted Spencer. With your life.

So you started living your life normally again. You left for class a little later because you didn't need to walk with your other friends. You stopped sharing your location with Spencer. You put the volume of your music higher again. You started leaving your pepper spray at home. You started texting while walking again.

Needless to say, you were wholly unprepared for the violent blow to your head as you walked to class one morning. How ironic, you thought as you blacked out, that Mary Goldman had probably experienced the same thing exactly two weeks prior.

Taglist : (all of you who asked for a part three <3) @princess-ofthe-pages @usuck @theylovemelody @empressgraytea @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @lillianacristina @venomsvl @user-3113s-blog @pumpkin-cake @redros3y @faunrasthewinterelf @puppykinsthepotato @bookishnerd1132 @bonza-bear @teeshamcbeesha @hades-disappointment-child @princesssparkle2024 @darlingcharling-blog @yasmin12312 @khxna @jamieeboulos

[mmywanda]

Pretty When You Sleep — W.M

——

Pairing: Dark!WandaMaximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Nights are lot more dangerous than you think.

Warnings: noncon/dubcon, somnophilia, drugging, blood, murder, stalking, mentions of a knives, strap-on.

Word count: 2.9k

A/N: This is a dark fic, if you find any of the warnings triggering, please do not read. Happy Halloween! men & minors dni.

Beta read by @poulengp <3

——

It started off small.

All the shoes you left in a mess by the door now neatly stacked up, laces undone, just so they were easier to slip on. The lamp you'd accidently leave on before falling asleep, being off when you woke up in the morning. Clothes that were dumped on the floor, suddenly folded up in your drawer.

Then it got weirder.

Your purse being filled with fifty dollar bills on the mornings you worried you wouldn't have enough to afford your groceries. Some of your clothes, specifically underwear, going missing. Your phone being in the other room when you woke up. Waking up with different pyjama bottoms on.

As it got worse, you found yourself confiding in your friend. Well, a little more than a friend, but the two of you had never labelled it. The two of you sat in the corner of a local cafe, coffee warming up your hands. It was a cool autumn day, causing you to wrap up in a scarf and fluffy coat. This crimson coloured scarf had suddenly appeared in your closet, right when you needed it. It should have been wrong to wear something that had inexplicably appeared in your home, but it was cold, and what else were you to do?

"It's just getting weird. Even the leftovers in my fridge that were about to be mouldy are being thrown away. I see it in my garbage bag. And you know me, I don't even throw it out until it's literally gone blue."

Erin laughed, "You're quite careless. And disgusting." Yes, you were, but that wasn't the point!

"Shush. I'm actually worried here. I'm starting to think.. no.. no one can be breaking into my apartment every night, I'd wake up and hear them. God, I think I'm going mad." You mumbled, hand gripping tightly around the coffee mug. It reminded you of the time you'd left a cold cup of tea on the side, and had fallen asleep. When you woke up an hour later, the cup was hot, as if it had just been warmed up again.

"You've added another lock to your door, you don't even have a spare key for it. It's impossible for someone to break in. And you live on the top floor. Honey, you've been exhausted recently, it's not uncommon for people to get forgetful. You probably did those things while sleepy." Erin reassured you, placing a hand over yours.

You sighed deeply, downing the last drops of drink you had left, Erin doing the same. "Yeah, you're probably right. It's just.. strange."

—

As you entered your apartment late at night, instead of throwing your keys carelessly on a table, you decided to tuck them in the nightstand by your bed. Just to be safe, even if it was just for your own peace of mind. You jumped into the shower, cracking open the window so the steam could be let out. You lived on the top floor of your block, no one could look in, which was always a good thing because your bathroom got very steamy, recently the ceiling paper even curling at the side from the condensation. Making a mental note to look up the prices for someone to redecorate.

You really needed a shower today, you and Erin had gotten a little.. excited earlier, and it always made you cringe not showering before bed after an evening of sex. Under the warm water, you hummed a song you'd had stuck in your head all day. It was a song you didn't even recognise, in fact you weren't even sure you'd heard it before. All you knew was that it was in a different language, and it was comforting.

Once clean, you felt overwhelmingly tired, it had been a long day, so you decided to go straight to bed after having your usual cup of camomile tea, with two spoons of sugar. Then you got into bed. Before you could doze off though, you decided to read for a bit, opening up your latest novel of your favourite author. It can't have been too exciting though, because you fell asleep before the first chapter was over.

When dawn broke, the early sun breaking through cracks in your window, you stirred, blinking a few times. Something felt strange, like every morning for the past few months. You felt a stickiness between your thighs, and your pyjama bottoms were definitely not the ones you fell asleep in. You stared down at the light blue shorts, eyebrows furrowed. Were you a sleepwalker? No, your past roommates would have told you. Maybe you'd had a really good dream and just forgotten it? Fuck, this was weird.

Deciding there was nothing you could really do about the situation, you got up, opting to take another shower to get rid of the icky feeling.

It was when you were munching on your chocolate flavoured cereal that you heard your phone ping. Automatically, you put your spoon down, picking up the device you so heavily relied upon. It was a text from an unknown number, causing you to frown. Opening it, you saw there was a picture attached to the text. And when you examined it, your blood ran cold.

It was a picture of you, naked in bed. Your body spread out, intimate area completely exposed.

"What the fuck?" You whispered, reading what had come with it.

Unknown number: Three orgasms in one night, that's your record so far.

You didn't know what to think— someone had.. touched you while you were asleep? They broke in and did this to you? You shivered in fear, your shaky hands typing out a response before you could even think about what the police would say if you went to them; to not engage with a dangerous person.

You: Who the fuck is this?

There was no reply. Not when you left for work, not when you arrived home in the evening.

You were rigid with fear. A sensible person would have called the police, or at least called someone like Erin, asked to stay over, but you just couldn't. Every time you were about to dial a number, something inside you made you stop. You couldn't explain it.

So here you were, sat bolt upright on your couch. It was around eleven, and your eyes were growing heavy. Your camomile tea mug now empty, you blinked a few times, just aching to lay down and rest. No, you had to stay up! You had to see who had been breaking into your home. But.. you were so tired, a sudden wave of exhaustion washing over you. Your eyes closed slowly, slumping down and falling into a deep sleep.

—

The next morning the first thing you did was check your phone, seeing if the stranger had replied, and they had. Two images attached to a message. And what you saw horrified you. The first picture, one of you in bed, with a.. strap-on, buried inside you. It made you feel sick, that someone had done this to you unwillingly. Though the expression on your face, clearly asleep but pleasure in your features. You could even see your own arousal dripping down the toy.

The second image quite literally made you throw up, You ran to the bathroom, heaving into the toilet bowl as the picture burned in your mind. It had been someone laying on a floor, covered in blood, a knife wedged in their chest.

You had to go to the police. There was no choice now. For some reason, you looked back at the picture, and your mouth dropped open. That someone was a familiar.

It was Erin.

You just knew, it was her jacket, her brown eyes wide open in fear, her blue dyed hair drenched in her own blood. It caused you to throw up again.

—

"I—I think my best friend has been murdered."

You whispered in a shaky voice to a police officer who had sat you down in a cold grey room. After seeing what you'd been sent, not even reading the message that had come with it, you rushed down to the local police station, practically screaming for someone to talk to.

"Why do you suspect this?" He asked in a gruff voice. He didn't seem to be all that serious about the situation, upsetting you even further.

"I've got pictures! And texts!" Your fingers fumbled around your pocket to retrieve your phone, opening your messages app.

It wasn't there.

"So?" The officer prompted, clearly unimpressed.

"It was.. it was right here.." You mumbled, opening every contact you had in case it had magically gotten messed up.

But no, the messages had vanished.

"Look, lady, I think you should go home and get some rest. You look tired. Our minds make things up when we're lacking sleep."

"But—"

"Listen, if something happens, come back in. But for now, you're making empty claims."

Hanging your head down dejectedly, you fought back tears. You knew Erin was dead. You just knew it.

—

Tonight you weren't going to fall asleep. Just to make sure, you downed two mugs of strong coffee instead of your tea. You hated it, but you couldn't risk falling asleep. The intruder— the murderer, was going to break in, you were sure.

The time ticked on. Eleven o'clock, twelve o'clock, one o'clock..

Until your phone buzzed. Dread washed over you. There was no one else who would be making your phone light up at this time of night.

Unknown number: How am I meant to enjoy you when you don't have your tea? You look so pretty when you sleep.

This confused you. Why would they be concerned about what beverage you were drinking? You typed out a response quickly.

You: I'm not scared of you.

It was a stupid thing to say, you knew that really. But the only thing you could think of was to pretend you weren't scared. Maybe that would make them bored and leave you alone. All you could think about what Erin's lifeless body. The blood, god.. all that blood..

Unknown number: See you soon, sweetheart.

Your eyes widened in horror; what the fuck did that mean? This person was on their way? Sickness rose up in your throat, and you ran to your kitchen, grabbing the first sharp object you could find— a medium sized kitchen knife. You clutched it to your chest, running to your bedroom, locking the door and panting heavily. You considered pushing some furniture against the door, but you knew you needed to call the police. Then you realised you'd left your phone in the kitchen.

Fuck! Fuck!

You had put yourself in the worst position possible. But before you could panic over that, you felt a gust of cold air. You frowned, turning around to see the window wide open. You definitely hadn't left it like that before, but it was also impossible for anyone else to have opened it. You lived on the top floor for Christ's sake!

Not knowing what to do first; close the window, get your phone, block the door, or just curl up in a ball and hope it would all just go away. You opted for grabbing your phone. If you could call the police, they'd be on their way, hopefully before your stalker could arrive.

Cautiously unlocking the bedroom door, you stepped out into the hallway. The lights that had previously been on, were off, leaving the whole apartment pitch black apart from the moon shining through the windows and the bedroom light.

Your steps were slow, ears straining to hear anything, but there was silence. The only sound heard was the hammering of your heart in your chest.

Until the silence was broken.

"Seeing you awake is strange. But exciting nonetheless."

The voice came from right behind you. Spinning around in horror, you finally came face to face with the person who had been tormenting you.

"Tormenting? That's a bit harsh, sweetheart."

The woman was dressed in all black, a hood covering most of her face. Light from the bedroom accentuated her figure, but more importantly, the silhouette of a knife and a cloth in her hands.

"W—who are you?" It was an attempt at a shout, maybe to attract the attention of the apartment below you, but your voice could barely manage a squeak.

"I've told you before, baby. You're a forgetful thing when you're asleep, mhm?" She stepped forward, causing you to take a step back.

"You've been taking advantage of me! You've been breaking into my home! You killed.. Erin!" You whispered, backing up against the wall. You had no where to go. You were most likely to die, just like Erin.

"Sweet girl, I'm not going to kill you. I could never hurt you." The woman's voice was almost softer as she approached you, only two feet away now. Was she reading your mind?

"But you killed my friend." The images of Erin's body filled your mind, and how you were going to end up just like her.

"Your 'friend'? Please, she was begging for her own life, not for you to be safe." She let out a cold laugh. "It was so satisfying, the sound of my blade tearing through her flesh and tissue." It almost sounded like she'd gotten pleasure from it

Finally, you got some sense and energy into you as she expressed her fucked up feelings. You let out a shattering scream, "HELP! HELP!"

The woman sighed in disappointment. It took her less than a second to raise the cloth up to your face, covering your nose and mouth. The smell of chemicals was overwhelming. You fought against it, until you couldn't anymore. Body falling limp to the ground.

—

The noise that woke you up was the sound of a squeaking. Your eyes wouldn't open, wondering what was going on. You then felt something inside you, a pressure building up in your lower stomach. What—

Finally, your vision became clearer. You blinked a few times, looking around you. The scene became pretty clear.

The woman was in between your legs, a strap-on buried inside you, just like that photo. The squeaking was the bed as she thrusted into you.

You should have screamed, but the pressure in your abdomen was too intense. You let out a whine, trying to move your tired body, but it was useless. You didn't even want to stop it, it felt too.. good.

"You're awake." She stated, a slight pant in her voice. Her hood was down now, revealing her auburn wavy hair, pale skin and deep green eyes.

"Let me.." You trailed off, because you didn't know whether to say 'go' or 'come'.

She let out a chuckle, holding your hips firmly as she thrusted into you. The feeling was delicious. Something about the fact your body was sleepy, heavy, while being fucked by a woman so dangerous..

No! Why are you thinking like this? It almost felt like your thoughts weren't yours anymore. Were you going insane?

The woman grunted, wet noises filling the room, making it very apparent that your body did not hate this at all. "You can come for me, it'll be your third."

Your third? You couldn't even bring yourself to ask about it, your body just trembled, a pending orgasm taking over, making you whimper in delight.

"Fuck!"

Tears filled your eyes from the sheer pleasure, and the fact that you should have hated this. You were filled with so much shame and guilt. This was the person who had killed your best friend, who'd stripped you of your dignity.

"Shh, darling, you don't have to feel guilty. You're allowed to feel pleasure. And your friend, well, she was just in the way."

Her twisted words made you feel sick again, but you didn't have time to dwell on that because the woman's hand suddenly reached down and started to circle your clit while simultaneously thrusting into you. A loud groan escaped your throat, eyes practically rolling to the back of your head.

"You're going to beat your record, four times will be an achievement." Her accented voice was hot and heavy, turning you on even more.

"I— mhm!" You tried to speak, but you didn't know what to say.

"Let go, detka, show me how good I make you feel." She gripped your waist with her spare hand, red manicured nails digging into your skin.

Without warning, you came hard, spilling all over the strap. The woman moaned, slowing down her thrusts and eventually pulling out, leaving you unbearably empty. She slipped the strap off and went to straddle you, leaning her head down to kiss your neck. You felt utter bliss, forgetting how incredibly fucked up and sick this was.

"Seeing as this is the first time we've met while you've been conscious, I'll introduce myself. I'm Wanda." She giggled, as if nothing had just happened, and had been happening for months. Your head spun, recognising that name somehow, as if it had been spoken in your dreams.

"Relax now, sweet thing. I'll be here when you wake up." Wanda said softly, lying beside you, wrapping the duvet around your naked body. Her arm laid loosely across your stomach, hearing her breathing slow down to something calmer than before.

You didn't say anything, too busy feeling a wave of satisfaction, as awful as that sounded. It was like your mind was used to this, and that it was something you'd always wanted.

The last thing you remembered was a soft lullaby, in a language you didn't recognise. You'd heard it before, in your dreams. And it brought you great comfort.

——

Tags: @rezwrites @hatdog96 @ion-news @esposadejoyhuerta @moimmmm @grimlygoblin @lizziesflower @yandereloverb312 @beggingonmykneesforher

——

[safetypinxtales]

Santa baby | Azriel

summary: it's nearing solstice and you have an extensive list for your mate Santa.

words: 1.5k

warnings: fluff, a bit of seduction, Azriel is stupid in love, like absolutely whipped, reader sits in Azriel's lap, feminine reader (lipgloss, hair below shoulder-length), otherwise neutrally described reader, no use of y/n, it's an AU where everything is the same except Santa is a thing.

notes: well, it's been a while but it's Christmas and I have free time for once so why not write? I whipped this one up in like an hour whilst waiting for our guests to arrive today, and it has minimal editing, but it's something light and sweet for the holidays. Hope you enjoy and merry Christmas! 🤍

masterlist

The glass is cold in your hand as you waltz into the living room. The winter sun had already set on the quaint seaside cottage you shared with Azriel. He had surprised you with it after your mating ceremony last solstice, and as you took in the shadows dancing around on the walls, cast by dim candle light, a feeling of contentedness enveloped you. The amber liquid in the glass sloshed with each step you took, but never quite enough to spill over the rim. It was a practiced routine, bringing him a drink whenever you found your mate a little too stuck in his work.

His head lifted from the paperwork he had been going over as he sensed your presence entering the living room, the hand that had been carefully turning a leaf falling slack on the armrest.

His eyes dropped down to your hips, watching them sway with every step you took, gaze fixed as if in a trance.

You let out a low hum as you reached him, extending the glass. His eyes met yours as he put the paperwork aside and accepted your offering.

Slowly – gracefully and practiced – you slid into his lap, one arm snaking its way around his shoulder. The warmth of his hands on your waist spread all the way into your chest, making your heart beat just that little bit faster.

Grabbing his face, feeling the slight stubble of his cheek under your palm, you planted your lips on his. 

The kiss was soft and warm, and perfectly matched the feeling blooming in your chest has he murmured a low:

“Hello, my love.”

“Hello,” you hummed back and felt that slow tug in your chest that you had come to love so. 

You gave a loving tug back and felt Azriel shudder beneath you.

Letting you gaze flit over his face, you marveled at his features. 

The dark lashes framing those mesmerizing hazel eyes of his. The colour of the finest of honey, all swirling and golden. 

The constellations of freckles adorning his cheeks, like a map only you were privy to read.

His lips, currently smeared in your lipgloss and stretched into a dopey smile making him look just as lovesick as you felt inside.

“Hey, Az?” You broke the warm silence that had enveloped you.

“Yes, my love?” He murmured, his eyes flicking down to your lips briefly before finding their way back to yours.

You leaned in to give him another soft peck, only pulling away to rest your forehead against his.

“I have.. I’ve been thinking about something,” you whispered, feeling the breath from his curious yes? on your lips. “About what I want from Santa this year.”

He pulled back slightly at your words, eyebrows raised and that dopey smile still plastered on that pretty mouth of his. He knew as well as you that Santa meant Azriel himself.

“Oh, really? Please, do tell,” his curious hum sent you heart fluttering as you settled in further in his lap.

“Well, do you remember that dagger I liked so much when we visited summer? The gold one?” You purred and ran your fingers through his hair. His eyes fluttered as your nails lightly scratched his scalp.

“The one with the eye-sized ruby in the pommel?” You nodded. “My love, that blade is useless. You couldn’t even cut an apple with it, much less cause any real damage,” he scoffed, ”you’d be better off fighting someone with a cotton ball. That you could at least shove down their throat – hope they choke to death.”

His eyes gleamed at the gasp you let out. The soft swat you landed on his chest drawing out a quiet chuckle.

“I know it’s useless in combat, but it’s so pretty isn’t it? Besides, why would I need to fight when I have you to defend me?” You chirped with a flutter of lashes. 

You just managed to catch his eyes darkening before he pulled you into yet another kiss, this time firmer. Purposeful. 

Claiming.

When he pulled away his breath was heavier and his voice rougher as he swore, “I will always protect you, always defend you.”

“Even if I’m in the wrong?”

“No such thing.”

Your toes curled at his admission, and the hand that was tangled in his hair tightened its grip.

“Good answer,” you mused, and his thumbs swiped at your waist – up and down. 

“What else should Santa put on his list?”

You pretended to think for a moment, pursing your lips into a glossy pout, knowing just how crazy the act drove your mate.

And just as you could have predicted, his eyes dropped down to your mouth, his smile fading slightly, his eyelids growing heavier.

“Well you know that necklace that Feyre has? That she wore on our mating ceremony?” You asked.

He nodded in response, eyes still focused on your lips.

You let your cheeks pull into a broad smile, “well I saw that the jewellery shop by the Palace of Thread and Jewels has its twin in gold.”

“The diamond necklace you kept sighing about for weeks after the ceremony? The one that had me questioning if it was the mating bond that was making you so blue?” He questioned, his voice laced with disbelief.

“That’s the one,” you replied. Removing your hand from where it was nestled against his head, you moved to push your hair over your shoulder, exposing your décolletage.

”Wouldn’t it fit me so well?” You asked, letting your hands graze the bottom of your throat, following the curve down to the top of your chest, watching his eyes track the movement with a predatory focus.

Azriel’s throat bobbed, “It would.”

Your hand fell to his arm, giving the muscle hiding under his sweater a light squeeze. 

“Yeah, you really think so?” You gave him your best hopeful look, batting your eyelashes for added effect.

He simply nodded, too much of a lovestruck, mess of a male in your presence to form any actual words. 

“That’s good,” you hum, “now I only have one last thing on my wish list.”

Your mate didn’t verbally respond, but you took the squeeze of his hands on your hips as a sign to keep going.

“An apartment in the city.”

That seemed to bring Azriel back to life.

“An apartment? Is the cottage I got for us not enough?” He asked with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Well, no, I love the cottage – you know that. But sometimes it would be nice to have somewhere closer to go to after having spent the evening with the others, don’t you think?”

“It takes half a second to winnow from there to here,” he deadpanned, causing you to roll your eyes.

“But I think it would be nice to stay in the city sometimes. To be able to walk home, a stroll along the Sidra,” you gave him your sweetest, most innocent smile and added, “just you and me?”

You could see his resolve melting, and felt the largeness of his hand leave your waist in favour of gently stroking your thigh. 

“An apartment, huh?” His soft voice still had some reluctance hanging on to it, but you could tell he was warming up to the idea pretty quickly.

Your head bobbed up and down in confirmation, and an amused sigh left his lips.

“You must think mighty highly of yourself, dear, to think Santa would give you such special treatment,” he mused as he pulled you closer. 

“Well, I just have it on a hunch that Santa might know that my wonderful, loving mate, who – if I haven’t already mentioned – loves me so,” Azriel’s eyes crinkled at the corners as you continued, “works for the high lord.”

Amusement danced in his eyes, and a soft red glow started making its way up his cheeks.

“So maybe someone like that, like me. Like the mate of the Night court spymaster, deserves to be a little spoiled.” You leaned in to kiss his jaw, and stopped to whisper in his ear, “it sure would make her happy.”

He hummed in agreement, his thumb stroking across your thigh at a slow but steady pace.

“Besides,” you continued, leaning back to look him in the eyes, “I have been such a good girl this year.” 

Azriel’s administrations on you leg stopped, his large hand instead coming up to cup your face. 

He hummed lowly, eyes locked on your lips, eyebrows drawn together in a pensive look.

“You really have,” he murmured.

Again, he pulled you into a kiss, molding his lips to yours. You let yourself melt into him – your wonderful, loving spymaster – into the warmth radiating from his large body. Into the secure grip of his hands and the gentle softness of his lips. You let yourself melt into your mate, with no care in the world, besides kissing him back.

When you finally pulled away you leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “if Santa is very kind to me, I promise I will be just as good next year.”

“Yeah?” His voice was thick with emotion.

“Yes, maybe even better.” You promised, and leaned back to look at him. 

You cupped his jaw, the slight stubble adorning the skin scratching your hand in the most comforting way.

He shook his head slightly, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Not possible.”

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