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amongemeraldclouds · 2 days ago

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sober solutions to drunk discoveries

After a drunken kiss blurs the line of friendship, you and Mattheo get in the way of your happiness, prompting Enzo to play matchmaker.

Mattheo Riddle x f!Reader

Part two to nine shots of firewhiskey, can also be read as a standalone.

Content: fluff, slight angst, spicy but no smut, characters aged up

✿ Masterlist | ✿ Mattheo Riddle Masterlist | 2.5k words

The faint smell of alcohol invaded your senses, growing more pungent as seconds ticked past. The moment you dared to open your eyes, regret flashed through you along with the bright sun that assaulted your vision, hammering drum beats into your skull.

You shifted, burying your face in the pillow, its softness welcoming you back. Except you shouldn't have spun so fast for the entire world itself spun around you. You could have sworn you've never been caught in a tornado before, yet that's exactly what it felt like.

You grabbed the first thing within reach: a muscular arm. It was enough to steady you, anchoring you in place. In the sudden calm, you could finally hear your thoughts: why was there a well chiseled arm wrapped around you? Why did it feel good? What were you doing feeling up someone's arm?

Oh, this arm belonged to Mattheo Riddle. Words drenched in alcohol dripped into your mind like lazy morning dew, "you don't want to fuck me?" You asked Mattheo last night, your eyes wide and body burning with lust and inebriation.

Now it burned with shame. Forget coffee and tonics. Never underestimate the unbridled force of humiliation to knock your senses back into you.

Not for the first time, you wondered which gods you had angered to have incurred another set of misfortune. It was bad enough to be that heartbroken girl who got stuck in detention, sunk her grades, and nearly got disowned by her parents. You also had to be the girl who practically begged your best friend to fuck you.

You shrunk, cringing inwardly as you inched away from beneath the blanket, careful not to wake Mattheo. You breathed a sigh of relief when you landed clumsily with a thud on the floor. The cool air kissed your skin, reminding you to retrieve your blouse from where it lay crumpled on the bed.

A figure stirred from the other end of the room, a bleary eyed Lorenzo stared at you with his sleep-toussled hair. You instinctively wrapped your arms across your chest.

"You didn't see anything!" You whispered, trying to get ahead of him.

He blinked then repeated your words, "I didn't see anything."

"Stop screaming!" you hissed, moving away from Mattheo, blouse in hand.

"I'm not, I'm whispering!" Enzo shot back, arms raised.

"Well whisper softer!"

You turned around, fastening the blouse back on. You had been friends with Enzo long enough to feel his eyes roll from behind you.

"Just use my coat," he whispered and you nodded.

You turned back, "thank you, go back to sleep. I was never here. I'll return this later."

You snuck off, leaving behind the sleepy boy and the boy you love. It was too early to deal with the weight of your feelings. Feelings were reserved for midnight musings. When the sun was up, you had to lists to cross off, grades to earn back, a reputation to salvage, and feelings to avoid. For starters, you desperately needed a shower.

Enzo looked at the spot you just vacated then watched Mattheo, wondering what happened last night. It wasn't like you to sneak off that way, but he knew better than to get involved. You and Mattheo were bound to drag him into it anyway, the least he could do was be well rested for the chaos.

As he went back to sleep, Enzo smiled. You seemed back to your usual self, if a bit jumpier. It was still a win.

The second the bell chimed, you snapped your book shut and were halfway through the classroom, robe fluttering behind you in style. You were eager to be the first one out so you didn't have to run into Mattheo.

It did not add up. Mattheo was your safe space, your confidant, and partner in crime. And yet, something had changed last night. Insecurities swarmed through your head faster than you could outrun them.

What if Mattheo only said he'd be yours because he felt sorry for you? What if it was just a drunken illusion that vanished with sobriety? What if you were better off as friends? You couldn't risk another heartbreak so soon.

A sudden collision brought you back to the present moment as your books crashed onto the floor. "Sorr-" you started when you saw those familiar curls again. Except you now knew how soft they felt between your fingers and you ached to reach out. To be close to him again.

"Hey," Mattheo breathed out. Your eyes travelled straight to his lips, his usual smirk now skewed and awkward. You already missed how they felt against your lips, tender and wild. Your breath caught in your lungs. As luck would have it, you bumped into the very wizard you were trying to avoid. With all your effort to evade him in class, you had completely missed the fact that Mattheo had been skiving off.

You lowered yourself as a distraction and started collecting your books as you gathered your thoughts.

"Mattheo, I-" you started and reached out when he handed you your book. Without meaning to, your fingers brushed against his and your heart was picking up speed again, drumming to the beat of his name. It was too much to handle. "-have to go." You ended your sentence and walked away, resisting the urge to run.

"You have got to stop torturing Riddle," Enzo plopped down the chair beside you.

"I did no such thing," you shot back, your friendship long past the usual pleasantries of 'hi's and 'hello's. "What's he up to this time?"

"He's been prattling on about you at the Astronomy Tower, an entire bottle of firewhiskey in hand. We've got to get him back down," Enzo explained.

Concern spread through you like wildfire, but you hesitated, your insecurities weighing you down. "I don't know if I'm the one who can help him."

Enzo sighed, "What really happened last night?"

"We maybe sort of kind of," you began, "kissed."

"Fina-fucking-ly!" Enzo slammed his hand on the table, the bang echoing across the library. Annoyed faces were directed at him and the librarian's stern gaze burned through his skull. He smiled at them apologetically, turning on his charm.

"What do you mean?" You asked, bringing him back to your conversation.

"Oh come on, y/n," he rolled his eyes. "Everyone knows you and Mattheo are end game, even Cedric could see it too. Fuck that twat for how he dealt with it, you didn't deserve that. But you and Mattheo, it's bound to happen like snow in winter or snakes shedding skin."

"You did not just compare me to snake skin," you scoffed, the weight of his words sinking in.

"Stop deflecting, I said what I said. He likes you, you like him. I don't see the problem," he opened his hands wide to emphasize his point.

"Great, now I feel stupid," you exclaimed.

"And Mattheo's being a tosser up at the Astronomy Tower, you two were truly made for each other."

"Lorenzo Bekrshire, you're a wonderful friend, aren't you?" You replied sweetly, your words laced with sarcasm. "Come on, let's rescue that wanker."

You slowed as you reached the final steps of the Astronomy Tower, the evening breeze cooling you down while your heart pounded in your chest. There was no backing out now, certainly not after going up those long flights of steps. Your legs were jelly from the effort and the anticipation of facing your fears.

You looked tentatively at Enzo, who nodded his support. Just before you took another step, he gently placed his hand around your arm.

"This is where I'll leave you two to figure things out. Lay it all out and don't hold back. It's good advice for sharing your feelings and throwing up. You'll feel better afterwards."

Your eyebrows crinkled, "but I can't haul his drunk arse down the stairs myself."

"Just follow my advice, that'll sober him up. Except for the throwing up part, that one's for Riddle," he smirked.

You opened your mouth to respond, but Enzo quickly raised his finger.

"No more stalling. Look, I've got this date tonight and I won't be back until tomorrow morning. So have fun, yeah? Tell Mattheo, he better not screw it up. I'm running out of coats." With that, he turned and started walking downstairs.

You took a deep breath and steeled yourself. It didn't make sense that your entire world just blew up months ago. Being with Cedric felt like a lifetime ago, and there in front of you, was your potential future.

Your heart ached at the memory of your kiss. A kiss more potent than nine shots of firewhiskey in the way it breathed life into your world again. A lonely garden now teeming with the butterflies in your stomach and the blossoming of hope and desire. Feelings you had nearly forgotten about.

You approached carefully, crouching down across him as he took another swig from the bottle.

"Oh there you are again," Mattheo slurred, swiping the back of his hand across his mouth. Your eyes followed the movement as you resisted the urge to reach out to him and kiss him again.

Before you had a chance to respond, he continued. "Of course you're there too, I was just talking to you here," he gestured to the empty space beside him. "I tried not to think about you, you know? You're my fucking best friend. To which I mean that as a cuss word, not that we're best friends who fuck, because we're not. Even though I want us to, which you do too!" He dramatically gestured to you and that space beside him again before going on.

"But you were drunk and I didn't know if you'd still want me when you're sober. And can I be honest? I didn't want to just fuck you. It sounds crass and I know that's ironic coming from me, but..." he trailed off as he stared at you.

"I'm sorry, look at your eyes! You're so beautiful and for the first time, I don't want to fuck. I want all the soppy bullshit poets write about divine dances and souls entangled. Load of bollocks if you ask me, but it makes sense with you. Why is that?"

You blinked, trying to catch up with his drunken ramblings. "So last night, you didn't think I was pathetic?"

"What? You are many things y/n, but never pathetic," he replied. "Anyone would have broken down if they went through everything you did and I wanted to hold you together, but you just got up. Day after day, you got up and you went on. You cried and you screamed and we drank, but then you went on. Do you have any idea how brave you have to be just to do that?"

Tears filled your eyes at his words. He was always more honest when he was drunk but it still caught you off guard how the boy with dark eyes and a dangerous smile hid an entire universe within him.

"No, no, no, hey hey," Mattheo reached forward as a tear slipped down your cheek. "I always fuck things up, don't I?" He said, cupping your face to wipe off the tear. "This is why we're better off as best friends even though I've liked you for a while now. I'll just drink my whiskey and talk to this imagined version of you."

You suddenly quirked an eyebrow and tried not to laugh. He was so adorable, you hated the roller coaster of emotions you were on but no longer wanted to walk away from. "Can figments of imagination cry?"

"Well they never did except for you, so that's new. Unless..." he trailed off, the gears in his head spinning albeit rusty from the alcohol. You watched patiently as his eyes widened and crimson flooded his cheeks. "You're real, aren't you?"

"Only one way to find out," you said as you closed the distance between you and kissed him. Of course it was a lie. There were so many ways to find out, but fuck it you just needed to kiss him. And there it was again, more potent than nine shots of firewhiskey. It was an eternity you could live in forever.

The weight of the kiss sank deep in Mattheo's bones, grounding him from the drunken haze in his head. Your kiss was sobering and intoxicating at the same time, a delicious cocktail of emotions that far outweighed the experience of drinks and drugs. You may have ruined it for him forever and he didn't mind it one bit.

Mattheo held you close as he kissed you, one hand at the back of your head, the other wrapped around your waist as you straddled him. It was always inevitable, wasn't it? Falling for you. You with your beautiful face, the way you made him laugh, and how he felt at home with you. His heart never stood a chance.

For once, he wanted to move past his flaws and fears, so he could finally allow himself to want you. He felt it with the intensity at which he sucked your bottom lip, asking to be let in. You gasped at his boldness and his tongue darted in to explore your mouth. He may be good at fucking shit up, but for you he wanted to try.

A grunt escaped his throat when you rocked your hips against him and you were rewarded with the growing length you felt in his pants. Your fingers were wrapped in his curls while the other moved around his arm, feeling up his muscles again.

You needed to finish your conversation before you allowed yourself to go further. Reeling in your desires, you broke up for air. You were surprised when this didn't deter Mattheo as he kissed your jaw instead, planting delicate kisses down your neck. You sighed in pleasure, ready to let go of the words, but you needed to reassure him.

"Mattheo Riddle, my sweet Matty, you should know you don't just screw things up. You bring so much life and energy wherever you go and I'm so happy I get to be around you a lot. You're a firecracker, Riddle."

"For you darling, I'll be a fucking nebula," he said, his lips swollen and hair disheveled. You took a moment to drink him all in and admire your handiwork.

Tiny fireworks exploded in your chest at his words and you giggled at how sweet he was when he was drunk, both on alcohol and in love. "Now what was it you told me last night? I'm sober and I still want you so"

"I'm all yours," he completed the sentence, kissing you again.

In between kisses, you asked, "and what exactly did the poets mean about divine dances and soul entanglements?"

Mattheo gave a low chuckle, "oh princess, I'm no fucking poet, let me show you instead."

✿ Masterlist | ✿ Mattheo Riddle Masterlist

A/N: This is the first time I've written a part two for a fic. Matchmaking Enzo is my fave!

#mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle #slytherin boys #amongemeraldcloudswrites #amongemeraldclouds fluff

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amourquinn · 9 hours ago

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( short fic ) 𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

pairing : fwb!quinn x fem!reader wc. 1.3k

genre : fluff(?) angst(?) quinn and reader have too many thoughts in their heads no warnings really

summary : you and quinn navigate the blurred lines of what you have going on, each secretly wondering if there’s more between you than just physical connection

quinn sat alone in his dark apartment, the hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen the only sound cutting through the stillness. his phone rested in his palm, the soft glow from the screen illuminating his face as his thumb hovered over a single contact.

he didn’t know why he felt this way tonight. maybe it was the silence, or the ache that came with sitting in a space that no longer felt like home. his teammates had plans, the usual banter and beers, but he’d turned it down, muttering some halfhearted excuse. the truth was, he didn’t feel like being around anyone who’d ask too many questions.

no one except you.

are you up?

he hit send and dropped the phone onto the couch cushion beside him, holding his breath like he was waiting for something that might not come.

it was late—later than a reasonable hour to be texting someone you weren’t technically dating. “friends” didn’t fit either. friends didn’t hold each other the way you did when the lights were off. friends didn’t seek comfort in the warmth of someone else’s bed after long, lonely nights.

a few minutes passed. quinn exhaled, leaning back against the couch, and just as his phone buzzed, his heart jumped.

y/n : yeah, i’m up. you okay?

he hesitated for a moment, fingers ghosting over the screen. he didn’t want to say too much. this thing between you didn’t have boundaries, but it had unspoken rules. don’t ask too much. don’t admit too much. don’t be too honest.

can i come over?

the typing bubbles appeared and disappeared once, twice. he imagined you sitting there, curled up in the oversized sweater you liked to sleep in, weighing the pros and cons of letting him in. finally, your answer came.

y/n : yeah. door’s open

⋆˙⟡

when he showed up at your door, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie, his hair damp from a quick shower, you couldn’t help but smile faintly. it was late—too late for casual hangouts—but you didn’t mind. you hadn’t been able to shake your own restlessness, and quinn’s presence felt like a solution to a problem neither of you had named.

“hey,” you said softly, stepping aside to let him in.

“hey.” he shrugged out of his jacket and toed off his sneakers. there was an easy familiarity to his movements, like he’d done this a hundred times before. and he had.

the two of you ended up on your couch, the same couch that had seen more than a few nights like this one. you handed him a glass of water, taking a sip from your own as you curled your legs beneath you. the silence was comfortable, but it felt heavier tonight, like something unsaid hung between you.

“you okay?” you asked eventually, looking at him through the soft glow of the lamp on your side table.

quinn glanced at you, the muscles in his jaw working like he was debating whether to tell the truth. “yeah. just didn’t feel like being alone tonight.”

your heart tugged at his honesty. “me either,” you admitted, your voice quiet.

that seemed to catch his attention. he turned to face you a little more, resting his arm along the back of the couch. “why’s that?”

you shrugged, swirling the water in your glass. “i don’t know. i think i get in my own head when it’s this quiet. makes me think about… things.”

“what kinds of things?”

“things i’m not sure i want to talk about.” you shot him a small, teasing smile to lighten the weight of the conversation. “what about you?”

he didn’t smile back—not fully. “probably the same.”

and just like that, the air between you changed. it wasn’t the usual easy companionship, the stolen moments of closeness that you had both become so used to. tonight felt different, and you weren’t sure how to handle that.

“do you ever think about…” quinn trailed off, his voice low and unsure.

“think about what?”

he shifted a little, looking at his hands. “where this is going. us, i mean.”

your heart skipped a beat. “quinn…”

“i’m not saying i want to mess this up,” he cut in quickly, like he needed to get the words out before he lost his nerve. “i just—i think about it sometimes. what it would be like if we tried to be more than… this.”

you stared at him, your pulse racing in your ears. this—whatever “this” was—had worked because it was easy. there were no strings, no expectations, just you and quinn finding comfort in each other when you needed it most. but now, he was opening a door you weren’t sure you were ready to walk through.

“do you want that?” you asked softly, carefully.

quinn ran a hand through his hair, letting out a long breath. “i don’t know. maybe. i just—” he looked at you then, really looked at you, and the honesty in his eyes made your chest ache. “i like being around you. not just like this. i like talking to you and… knowing you’re here. i don’t want to lose that.”

you swallowed, trying to ignore the way your throat tightened at his words. “i feel the same way,” you admitted.

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

the two of you sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the conversation settling between you. it was terrifying to admit what you were both feeling—to acknowledge that maybe this thing you had wasn’t as casual as you’d pretended it was.

quinn shifted closer, his knee brushing against yours as he leaned back into the couch. “you don’t have to answer right now. i just… i wanted you to know.”

you looked at him, at the way his brows furrowed in that familiar way they always did when he was thinking too hard about something. you’d seen him like this before—vulnerable and quiet—but tonight, it hit you differently. maybe because you felt the same way.

“okay,” you said softly, reaching out to place your hand on his arm. “thank you for telling me.”

he nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as his shoulders relaxed slightly. then, you shifted closer, your body leaning gently against his. “you don’t have to leave tonight if you don’t want to.”

it wasn’t an offer you usually made. you didn’t stay. it was an unspoken rule. but something in the way you said it—soft, tentative—made quinn’s heart skip a beat.

“you sure?” he asked, searching your face.

you smiled faintly. “yeah. i think i’d like it if you stayed.”

quinn let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, a quiet “okay” falling from his lips. he shifted so his arm could wrap around your shoulders, pulling you close. your head rested against his chest, and for the first time in a long time, the silence didn’t feel so loud.

you stayed like that for a while—two lonely people finding solace in each other’s presence. quinn could feel himself relaxing, his eyes starting to drift shut as he breathed you in.

the admission hung in the air between the two of you, fragile but undeniable. quinn felt something shift inside him, like a door cracking open. maybe tonight wasn’t just another lonely night. maybe it was the start of something more.

you smiled—a real one this time, not the tired version you’d worn earlier—and settled back against his chest. he held you tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as his eyes slipped closed.

there was still so much left unsaid, but for now, this was enough. almost something, but not quite.

and maybe that was okay. for tonight.

#[ 📁 ] short fic #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes angst #nhl hockey #vancouver canucks

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tranceinnumerabletabs · 23 hours ago

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When Johnny Comes Back pt7

Howdy! I'm really proud of this one! Please enjoy! it gets funny

idk if you wanted to be tagged in this one too but, @supermegabitchboyexceptimagirl, and of course @beelzebee

I think I should get those tumblr dividers. Also, sorry if you can't understand everything that's said here. You'll know it when you get to it. Its not the end btw.

part1, part2, part3, part4, part5, part6

It’s a quiet night once more, this time you’re in bed, unable to sleep.

It’s been too long. He’s gone. Shot by some guy. Just like in your nightmares

You sigh and look at your clock, 1:26 AM.

ugh

You get up, your cat waking up due to it, and decide to just….pace

You do just that, trying to find reason within your rhyme. You feed makes thudding noises on the cold hard ground.

thud thud thud thud

he’ll be fine

Thud thud thud thud

he’s just recovering

Thud thud

he’s gone

Thud

no he’s not

Thud thud thud

you’ll never be able to see him again

Thud thud thud

you’ll never tell him I love you

Thud thud thud

there’s no more Mactavish finesse

Thud thud thud

he’s reduced to ashes in an urn like in your nightmares

Thud thud drip thud

you look down and realize that a tear has fallen from your face.

sigh

you told yourself that you wouldn’t end up like this. If he’s alive then this is for nothing and if he’s dead….well…then this was just added misery.

You go to the bathroom and wash your face, sniffling a little.

he’s fine

You stare at your face in the mirror, blood rushed to your nose and cheeks, puffy eyed. You didn’t look so good.

You looked tired. You’ve been holding yourself up well right?

Yeah…

Yeah you are!

You could’ve been so much worse but you held up. Even if your eyes look tired and the steady drip of water from your face to the sink makes it unclear whether or not your crying. You weren’t. you’re fine

Ugh. This is why you try not to think of him! You feel so stupid and naive and sensitive and lost and-

“mrow?”

You feel Simon brush up against your leg, stopping your train wreck of thoughts. You smile, he’s so cute no matter how grumpy he is.

“Simon” you say fondly. You lean down and pick him up into your arms, swaying him like a baby as you walk out the bathroom.

Simon’s presence helped but it can only do so much.

You rock him, pet him and scratch him as you continue to pace.

Thud thud thud

you’re so cute Simon

Thud thud thud

you’re precious

Thud thud thud

you know Johnny will come back right?

Thud click thud

you know you’re a little bastard?

Thud thud thud

yeah you know you are? A bastard just like-…..

Thud Creak thud

like….

Thud stomp thud stomp

like……

thud Stomp Thud

“Honey, I’m home!”

You stand there, eyes wide in shock.

“Johnny?” You whisper but it was too low for even yourself to hear.

“Aye Bonnie, ye miss me?”

Your legs felt frozen as you look at him. A bandage around his head and a few new scars onto him to show off. His bag in one hand.

“What’s wrong lassie? Ye look like ye’ve seen the dead came back tae life” he teases gently, but in a tone that indicates that he missed you.

he’s here

Johnny Came Back

You feel tears pricking your eyes, but he didn’t notice. He drops his bag down and starts walking towards you. Ready to spend his return the same way he usually spends it: watching a movie with an engorgement of take out and smothering you.

“Johnny” you whisper a little louder

Johnny smiles “the one and only. Couldn’t have ye sell my urn to the damn Brits” He chuckled

“Johnny” you whisper once again and this time he catches the weight of your tone and becomes more solemn and sincere. “Aye….it’s me Bonnie….it’s me. I’m home” Your breath hitches and your hand slowly raises to cup his jaw, feeling his overgrown facial hair. He couldn’t shave it to his preferred length.

He drops his head’s weight into your hand, rubbing his cheek into your soft palm, looking softly into your eyes with a smile.

“Johnny” you voice now breaks and your breathing audibly hitches, tears welling in your eyes.

Johnny's eyes widen in shock, as if that was somehow an unexpected reaction.

“Bonnie?”

He tries to comfort you. Tries to think of something to say

“Bonnie I-“

“I thought you were dead Johnny!” You break out.

Johnny looked more shocked. Did you get the wrong information? Or did you just assume the worst?

“No, I-“

“I thought I’d never see you again!” You cry, your shoulders shaking. He looked guilty, he opens his mouth to try to apologize but you do what you should’ve spent he moment he showed his handsome ugly mug. You hug him, tightly. Almost too tight for the worn soldier.

Johnny is startled for a moment before reciprocating, hugging you back with fervor. You wet his shirt with your tears “I thought you were gone Johnny!” You cry, shaking in his arms. “No no lassie don’t cry” he rubs your back as you take lungfuls of his scent, finally being able to breathe it in again after it faded from your home.

He rocks you slightly as you take him all in and muffle all your grievances into his shirt. Eventually he grabs your face and stares into your eyes, his face seeming so tired and pained. Your heart clenches. You should care more about how he’s feeling.

“I’m tae sorry fer words honey, I didn’t think tae tell someone tell ye I’m fine. I just, had a rough time in the hospital an-“

You hug him again “sit down you lug. You need to rest” you gently guide him to his spot on the couch, where he belongs

“How are you feeling? Do you need anything?” You gently ask, cupping his face with both hands and looking at his injury.

He smiles and seemed to relax more that he’s done in a while. He places his rough calloused hands on yours and closes his eyes.

“Aye Bonnie lass, ye could kiss it better” he chuckles, feeling up your hands.

he’s had a rough time. Maybe he just needs any form of affection after being hospitalized for so long

You lean in up to his temple where the bandages are and place the most gentle and delicate of kisses on it. Johnny’s breath hitches, you don’t usually kiss him why would you? You’re just friends right?

You wanted to tell him you’re in love with him, or that you wanted him and no one else. But….no. not now, he just came back and…if it’s not reciprocal you don’t want him to deal with that right now. This should be all about him and not you. No, now all you wanted was to make sure that your roommate was okay. That can….come later. If you were willing to risk it. What’s most important is that he’s here and you take care of him. Not your feelings. “Miss me that much Bonnie? I should get shot more often. Then I could get another kiss” He tries to tease but the look on your face was enough to drop the jokes. He becomes more somber, his hands on yours now stroking your forearms. He looks into your eyes, sincerity evident “I missed ye too lassie, didn’t think tae tell ye cuz I dinae think I’d be gone fer so long. Glad to hear I was missed. Nice shirt” he says but it wasn’t the usual teasing tone he had. You look down and sure enough, you’re wearing one of Soap’s shirts as pjs, his scent long done from it. You smile, sniffling a little “I’m so glad you’re okay. I was so worried Johnny….”

“Aye, I could tell……ye dinae need to worry Bonnie lass, I’m a big strong man”

You huffed a laugh as he rubbed your eyes “Don’t be sad….your big bad sergeant is here.” You lay on top of him, face to neck, just….taking in his presence. He does the same, scratching your scalp, rubbing your back.

He’s back

Johnny came back

Johnny came home

After some time, he piped up

“Let’s watch a movie aye? I’m starvin.”

You chuckle, a much lighter and freer laugh than the ones you’ve been making for months. Free from your worries about Johnny

“Of course Johnny. I’ll order you take out”

You kiss his nose. He gives you that signature smile of his.

“Yer spoilin me, love”

“Don’t you forget it”

"how could I ever?"

____________________

It felt so good going back to an old routine. Your movements were unfamiliar and rusty as you sit and eat take out with Johnny at 2:17 AM while a movie was on. He already finished 2 meals but the soldier was still going at it like the dog he was.

“Better than any hospital slop I tells ye!”

You smile, softer and fonder than Johnny remembers, and settle in the routine you remember you had before he left. A blanket tossed over both of you legs, an arm wrapped around some part of you. This time it was around your neck while he ate, a bit awkward but you were not about to complain. He was back and that was all that mattered. He finished up his feast and went back to watching some silly movie based on a tumblr post.

It’s about a random Asian kid whose plane goes down somewhere in Scotland, and he learns traditional Scottish kickboxing. The wise old mentor speaks with an indecipherable Highland accent, Johnny somehow understands and translates for you, and spends the whole film in a full kilt for no particular reason. He goes back to China to reclaim his parent's company made in the style of those "mediocre white boy learns the secrets of ancient martial arts" movies. It’s a funny concept and a movie you’ve been wanting to watch for months but didn’t because….well….Johnny wasn’t here. You couldn’t watch this without him.

And you’re so glad you didn’t because now as Johnny has his warm arm wrapped around you, gentler than usual due to his injuries on his arm. His mouth is near your ear as he ‘translates’ English to English. It doesn’t really matter what he was saying. All that mattered is hearing his raspy deep voice reverberating in your ear. Usually you’d tell yourself you could drag yourself to bed after the movie but you knew couldn’t drag yourself to bed after all this. You wanted to fall asleep on this couch with him. But just before you resigned yourself to that wonderful fate, you remember something.

“Are you going to sleep here Johnny?” You asked

“Aye, can’t anger the sleeping tiger. I won’t move an inch wee Bonnie don’t ye worry”

You sit up and look at him while the movie was Montaging with terrible bagpipe music “No. You need to rest on an actual bed. You’re still recovering”

“Ye dinae need tae worry aboot me love. I’m fi-“

“Johnny.” You say sternly “you’ve been shot in the head don’t BS me now after all that” your voice cracked a bit when you mentioned his terrible injury.

Johnny sighs and smiles “I could get used tae being babied like this”

His tone was teasing but somehow you had a feeling he did wanted to be babied, to be treated and spoken to gently in a way he couldn’t get in a military setting.

You sigh and smile. “One movie okay? Then I’ll run you a bath, rub your back, maybe change your bandages and scratch your hair till you fall asleep in a bed sound good Johnny?” His eyes were enticed but he just had to be a goofy little guy doesn’t he?

“Cannae read me a bedtime story?” He teased. You giggled and nodded. You had a feeling he just wanted to hear your voice “I’ll tell you the story of the ugly duckling. I’m sure you’ll relate” you joke back

“Aye, sing me a lullaby too?”

“You motherfucking bastard.” You roll your eyes with a smile “yeah I’ll sing you a song about how John and Jill when up the hill to fetch a pail of whisky. John fell down and broke his crown and Jill couldn’t see him for months while he was in the hospital.”

“Dinae my fault Bonnie!”

“I know baby I know” you coo, calling him a baby but Soap seemed to be very happy being called that.

“As soon as the movie’s over I’ll show my baby just how much I missed him. Wake me up if I sleep okay? If you don’t you’ll never get that bedtime story ye hear?”

“Yes ma’am”

“Good boy”

You lay back down next to him, continuing to watch the silly movie, the Chinese kid is somehow the chosen one from some ancient Scottish texts made when during some important historical British-Scottish conflict. How did they seriously think that a dizi (bamboo flute) mixed with a bagpipe would make a good soundtrack? And how are they right?

Whatever, it’s not like you were paying much attention when Johnny was stroking your arm right next to you, leaning in and rubbing his scratchy chin against yours, murmuring comments and ‘translations’ that may not even be that accurate. God you missed him. The movie ends with a Scottish themed “Kung Fu fighter” esque credits song.

He automatically hums something about putting on another movie. “Johnny it’s like 3 and a half in the morning”

“Dinnae care Bonnie. Missed ye”

“C’mon Johnny, I’ll tuck you in bed” you tease He grips you tighter into him “I’m tucked in enough like this”

You smile, wide and so happy.

“C’mon Johnny” you whisper into his ear, scratching his scalp, careful to avoid the injury “those clothes can’t be comfortable. Let’s change into something nicer hmm?”

He sighs contently “only if ye keep that up Bonnie…..feels like heaven”

“Deal”

You leave him to turn on the bath faucet, making sure it’s the right temperature before going back to clean up the take out. He tried to help but you told him firmly to “stay” and like a good boy he does. He watches you walk around the flat like a puppy, eyes glued to your form and glimmering so fondly.

You check the bath and it’s ready.

As you turn to call for him “Johnn-“ you bump into him directly. He followed you here, unable to be away from you. You huff a laugh and lean on him.

“Take a bath Johnny. You could use one of my bath bombs too.”

“Stay with me?” He whines

“I’m not gonna watch you bathe Johnny. You clingy dog.” You chuckle and flick his nose “but I’ll be waiting for you when you come out okay?”

You walk out, feeling his lingering gaze on your back. You go get his bed ready.

It’s…not clean. You’re not proud to admit you’ve slept here on more than one occasion due to his absence. It was a mess of Soap’s belongings. A pile of clothes, some things that reminded you of him, things of the like. You clean it up, place a new bedsheet and pillow case, along with a plushie of a kitten with a mohawk, a gift from you.

(The kitten. Image description: a cute kitten with what looks like a mohawk of fur on it's head. end/ID)

(i-it looks better in the story! but the collar is still there /ID a plushie of the mohawk kitten but it looks crudely made and grumpy with a spiky collar /end ID)

You were admiring your clean up before your were startled by a strong set of hands around your waist and a head into your neck and shoulder. “Johnny! You scared me” He breaths in your scent, while being towel clad “hmm….Bonnie…”

You giggle and turn around, your smile dropping when come face to face with his bared chest. There were more bandages you didn’t see before, new scars and burns. You tsk, gently touching the bandages as he gazed at you “you poor thing…they must hurt so much….”

“…..”

you look up at him “do they hurt? Do you need me to change them or painkillers?”

“I’m fine lovie…”

You shake your head “I left some at your bedside just in case darling.”

“…thank you lassie…what would I do without ye?”

“Die in a ditch apparently”

He smiles, rubbing his thumbs on your waist.

“Never leave me…”

I blush a little at how he said that. Like it wasn’t just a roommate thing. “Never…..let’s get you to bed. I’m sure you’re so tired”

“Nae, I still got an enough for that bedtime story and lullaby”

You laugh “you're such a baby…okay get dressed”

He, being the bastard he is, decided to go “aye” and take off his towel right then and there.

You squeak in surprise and avert your eyes

“Johnny!!”

“What? Like what you see?”

You whine and mumble as he laughs “get dressed!”

You hear a chuckle and him opening the closet, a moment later he speaks “Ye can look now hen”

You turn around and low and behold he didn’t even put on anything “JOHNNY!” You slap your hands over your eyes as he laughs.

“What’s the matter hen?”

“JOHNNY I SWEAR TO GOD-“

“Aye aye, I’ll get dressed.”

You hear some movement as he wears actual clothes, not a lot of clothes but still something

“You can look now, fer real this time”

“So you’re decent?”

“Not morally but I’m wearing pants”

You turn to look and lo and behold this man only put boxers on.

You groan and roll your eyes

“How’s that decent Sergeant Soap?”

“Cannae see my tadger. And it’s Johnny to you.”

You pretty much can see it honestly but you let him.

“Lay on your stomach”

“Be gentle with me hen”

“Of course”

“I’ve been a good boy”

“Shut it”

“Yes ma’am”

You look at the tragic state of his back, pity pulling at your heartstrings.

“Tell me if it hurts too much okay?”

“You can never hurt me hen.”

“Johnny.”

“Aye aye, I will”

You sigh and pull out some oils you have along with a muscle gel that should alleviate any pain he’s brushing off in favor of seeming strong or okay. You know he's usually sore after expending himself so much during his job.

“Yer spolin’ me bloody rotten”

“Shush”

You climb on the bed and gently rub in the oil first

“Nae, could barely feel it.”

You press harder

“It tickles”

You press harder

“Das it”

You roll you eyes and do this. Feeling your face heat up every time he groans and sighs. You later put on the muscle relaxant and he sighs and groans even louder, his voice becoming even deeper due to his tiredness, making your insides mushy.

“Oh…right there…hmm…lower”

You go lower

“Lower”

Alright…

“Lower”

“Any lower and I’ll be touching your ass”

“Aye”

“Okay that’s enough time for bed” you get off him and he whines

“Nooo. I’m so sorry bonnie please come back. I’ll behave”

“Oh really? Never seen you behave once in your life Mactavish” you scold as you put away the things

“Gie me a laldy then”

“Goodnight Johnny” you turn to leave

“No! Wait!” He jumps and yanks you from behind.

“What is it Johnny?”

“Ye Haven’t tucked me in with a bedtime story yet.” He whines

You sigh but secretly you’re smiling wide at his antics, just glad to go through them again. Leave it to Johnny to overcommit to the bit.

“Aight here’s your bedtime story Ya wee sook” you reply, turning to face him. He was shocked “Ya we- where did ye learn tha’?”

“I learnt it from a very sexy Scottish lad once upon a time” you say as you start literally tucking him into bed, the bastard really has you wrapped around his finger.

His face turns red and his smile wide and bright like the sun.

“An’ do I ken this mysterious Scottish lad?”

“Aye” you mimic his accent

He chuckles “tell me about him” he lays down under the covers laying on his side away from the injury. You think for a moment, then a deeply devious and mischievous look came on your face. You grin and began describing.

“He’s sexy, charming, funny, he’s got a cute pet, he’s a like knight who saves princesses, he’s large and strong with a Scottish accent.” You list off as Soap’s face goes brighter and happier. He wouldn’t say ‘save princesses’ but he wasn’t going to really correct you. If you see him as a hero who is he to complain

“I wouldn’t say that. What else?”

“Oh but of course he was. His people were in trouble, and he went out to save them” he shook his head, adorable wee civi aintcha?

You continue “He lived alone for a very long time till he met one woman he began to live with”

“Was she pretty?”

“The fairest in the land” He chuckles and settles in more, getting comfortable as you tell this grown ass man his fucking bedtime story

“what happened?”

“They got married”

His eyes widen in shock as his face and ears turn a hot red. He clears his throat that suddenly became very dry. Did…did this mean what he think it meant?

“Tha’ right?”

“Hmm hmm”

“I like the sounda that”

“Then they lived happily ever after”

Soap looked at you with shocked eyes

“Tha’ so?”

“Hmm hmm”

He quickly put a mask of faux confidence, putting on his big goofy smile. Pride swells in your heart for making him smile so brightly. He clearly needed it.

“And who May this dashing man be?”

“I’ll give you a hint”

“Aye”

“His name starts with an S”

He chuckles

“I think I ken who it is Bonnie”

“Oh really?” You ask, your face growing more excited “who is it”

He pulls his arm out from under the blanket and wraps it around you “tis’ me, Soap. And it’s Johnny to you sweetheart”

His grip tightens as he drags you closer to him, he shoves his face into your stomach, his heart suddenly beating too fast. Is this….your confession? Did you really just say you’ll marry him? Looks like those military spouse benefits are too tempting. He looks up, eyes hopeful and ready for his dreams to come true. That you’ll become Mrs Mactavish and he’s your Prince Charming.

“Wrong.” You suddenly say.

“Wha?”

“I said wrong”

“T…then who’s the big strong sexy Scottish lad who marries the fairest in the land?”

“Shrek”

“Ye. fuckin’. right. SleEkiT bAmPOT!!”

You burst out laughing hard, doubling over and laughing so hard you collapse on the bed with him. But he doesn’t appreciate that

“Away an’ bile ye head! ye absolute weapon!” He practically yells

“Yer a right glaikit shan wee gobshite! Ye fuckin’ bastard cunt!!”

He raves and raves unintelligibly as you seem to get a six pack just from how hard you’re laughing and occasionally snorting like a pig. You’ve never heard so many Scottish insults in your life. Or at least you would hear them if you weren’t laughing!

Eventually, he shuts up and your laughs slow down. You look at Soap after wiping away your joyful tears. But unfortunately, The look on his face made you burst into laughter all over again.

“Alright alright that’s enough” he huffs and shakes his head, throwing an arm around your face to quiet you.

“Okay okay! I’m done!” You claim, your laughter lowering.

Johnny looked so done with you it was priceless. You were still in a fit of giggles as he shook his head

“Seriously hen? Shrek?”

“Whaaat?” You ask as if you could feign innocence as you’re giggling uncontrollably

“Shrek is the big sexy scott?”

“Yeah!” You laugh

“He bathes in mud Bonnie! He’s nasty” he says disgusted as if he doesn't have worse hear me outs

“And you’re not?”

“Oh that’s it ye-“ he jumps you and harshly man handles you. Pinning you with his big weight, restricting your breathing by pressing on your chest, just being an overall rough housing bastard. It’s not bad enough to cause actual legitimate harm but it’s rougher than he’s ever been with you.

“Johnnyy! Mercy I beg you!” You whine, trying to squirm away and kicking up your legs

“There’s no Johnny here now leannan! Now it’s sergeant Soap! And yer taking discipline!”

You wheeze at the lack of oxygen his man handling is doing, you didn’t have much in you anyway from laughing so much. He growls into your ear and pins your squirmy hands to your chest.

“Johnnyyy! I can’t breathe!” You wheeze out

“Shrek eh?”

You breathlessly giggle at your joke

“Shrek is the sexy charming and funny man who taught you what a wee sook is?”

You wheeze another giggle, unable to stop laughing at the joke.

“Anyone else?”

You try to wheeze an answer “s-s..”

but he doesn’t understand so he lets go. You breath in a desperate deep breath

“Answer the question lassie.”

“What question?” You tease, giggling. He growls and places his pillow on your face to quiet you

“Who’s the charming Scotsmen that makes ye laugh!”

He removes the pillow to get an answer

“Scrooge McDuck”

“You wee lil shite!” He smothers you with the pillow again, so you won’t even have a chance to laugh.

He removes the pillow as you wheeze with a smile

“Wrong answer”

“Whaaat? He’s funny!”

“Tsk. Who’s the Scottish soldier who’s strong and witty”

“James Bond”

“Leannan!!!” He wraps his arm around you in a headlock, he’s done that plenty times before and even taught you how to do it and get out of it, it almost slipped your mind due to your giggling.

You do try to get out of it but he just tightens his hold

“Think ye’re strong, do ye lassie? I’ll show ye strong, ya wee twig!” He growls

“Johnny!” You whine “mercy!”

“No mercy to the enemy bonnie.” He bites your cheek

“Eww! You dog!” You whine and squirm “okay okay you win!”

She shakes his head, mouth still filled with your cheek “Johnny! Please! You’re gross!”

He bites harder

“Away with ye ya daftie!” You poorly mimic He laughs and lets go. You rub your saliva covered cheek on his bicep.

“You’re gross. Let go”

“Nae”

“Johnny.” You try to be stern

“Nah. You need to tell me who th-“

“It’s you! It’s you Johnny! You’re the big, strong, funny, charming Scot that saves princesses!” He lets go, letting you drop on the bed with a thud.

“That’s right lass. Say it again”

“It’s you Johnny. You’re the one I wait in my tower for.”

“Tha’ right?” He says, smiling down at you

“Yeah…it is…”

He smiles and lays down once more

“Either that or Hagrid”

“Bonnie.” He asserts sternly

“Sorry sorry Johnny”

“Brat.”

“Bastard.”

“Your bastard.”

“Your brat.”

You both shake your heads. You sigh and realize how tired you are. You look to the digital clock on Johnny's bedside table. Jesus.

“I’m so sorry Johnny” you get up

“What is it?” He asks, lost

“Just look at the time! A little more and it’ll be sunrise. You need to rest after all that” you hop off the bed but Johnny grips you

“Naee. I’m fine” he whines. Truth was he was exhausted down to the bone, but this was the most affectionate you’ve ever been.

“What is it Johnny?” You sigh

“I haven’t gotten my lullaby”

You groan. You were tired too but you wanted to take care of him.

“Please Bonnie! My heart needs tae be soothed after all tha’. Ye called me nasty :(”

“You’re a big baby Mactavish”

“Aye” he shoves you back to sit on the edge of the bed. You start to lightly scratch his scalp.

“I….don’t have a song..”

“Anythin’s good”

“🎶Somebody once told me th-“

He pinches your waist

“Hahaha, okay not that one”

“…”

“Hmm….🎶we’re no strangers go love. You know the rules and so do-Ouch!”

He grumbles as you giggle

“Then what do you want baby?”

“Quit takin the piss outta me” he grunts “sing…somethin’ calmin’” You think for a bit and a song comes to mind, you think a solider like him could do some good knowing his song.

(A/N: I’m so sorry for what you’re about to sing)

“🎶There's a shadow on the wall, stay calm, stay calm 🎶

🎶There's a figure in the hall, stay calm, stay calm🎶

🎶Keep my wits and stay alive, wish I had a nine to five 🎶

🎶There's a stranger in us all, stay calm, stay calm🎶”

He relaxes and listens intently. Finally a normal song, he thinks foolishly

“🎶Every hair is on it's end, that's fine, I'm fine🎶

🎶Feeling my adrenaline, that's fine I'm fine 🎶

🎶I can keep away the creeps, safely from my swivel seats🎶 🎶Something's crawling through the vents, that's fine I’m fine🎶”

You start humming to him while scratching his head gently. He sighs and cuddles up to your waist more, rubbing his bandaged head gently against you.

“🎶In the end there's only me alright, alright 🎶

🎶 Morning sun will set me free, all right, all right🎶”

His face was calm and droopy, ready to rest his tired war used bones. He looked like he could sleep through the winter.

“🎶I spent..um…many months away from you🎶”

You hum him the tune as he falls asleep, looking peaceful.

After you’re done you sit there admiring him for a moment, seeing him home, not in one piece but home made you take the time to appreciate his presence.

You yawn, realizing that you could see the sunrise peeking from the curtains. Wow it’s late, but it’s worth it. He’s had such a rough time and deserves all the comfort you could give him. You slowly and quietly try to leave the bed, thinking he’s asleep. Only for him, the baby he is, to grip you hard and force you into bed

“Johnny!” You whine, this time whinnier than ever.

“Give me a kiss goodnight princesses”

“Johnny.”

“Please leannan? Last thing I’ll ask o’ ye and I’ll sleep” he sleepily grumbles while gripping you like a stuffed animal. You felt so….vulnerable like this. You’ve never been in his bed with him.

“Promise?”

“Aye”

“Pinky promise?” You tease

“Aye aye just gimmie a Smourich and I’ll sleep”

“Sigh”

“Please”

“Fine” you wiggle in his iron grip to lean up to him and give him a gentle kiss on the cheek. He smiles, eyes still closed as he settles in one last time. “Goodnight love.”

“Goodnight Johnny” you smile, moving to get out of his grip and go to b-you can’t get out.

Johnny's grip is strong around you. “Johnny?” You pipe up and wiggle to try and move away. He doesn’t budge

“Johnny.” You more firmly and look up to see his sleeping face as if he knocked out cold within seconds of getting a goodnight kiss. “Johnny!” You whine “you bastard! Let me go”

No response

“Johnnyyy!!!” You flop like a fish in his grip but nope! Too bad! You’re stuck!

“Johnny I know you’re awake I swear to god if you don’t let me go right now!”

No response but you swear he’s doing this on purpose. You groan and struggle for a few more moments till you feel a soft furry mass lay on your side, Simon. He fell asleep on the couch after the movie and a joyful (as joyful as Simon could he) reunion with Johnny. You freeze up as Simon gets comfortable, laying on you. You wouldn’t wake up a cat would you? Especially not one so grumpy and tired. No, you sit there without moving a muscle and wait. Cat owner rules.

Welp….looks like you’re sleeping in a big man’s arms tonight. The position makes you flustered but between the unconsciousness of the bastard sergeant, the softness of your cat and your sleep deprived mind body and soul. You decide fuck it and just fell asleep in your roommate’s bed. It’s cozy like this anyway. You’re knocked out cold within the minute.

AN: This is NOT the end!

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thebigqueer · 2 days ago

Text

"Was there never another ending?" - Caitvi - One-Shot

Summary: After the battle, Vi & Cait are resting in Cait's room and discussing the aftermath of the war. (inspired by "The Aftermath" by @qvert!) Word Count: 5440 Notes: CWs for sensual content (this lowkey borders being sexual but i wouldn't classify it as smut), mentions of blood & wounds. takes place after s2 act 3! Read on AO3

Vi wants to sleep. She’s been lying on Cait’s carpet for hours now, staring at the darkness behind her eyelids, but it’s been no use; it’s already early afternoon. No matter how exhausted she is, her blood is just humming too much to let herself sleep.

It doesn’t help that Cait is next to her, hooked up to all those tubes and bags of fluid. Cait’s been released from whatever operations her father wanted to do on her since the battle, and she’s been resting on a makeshift mattress against the window of her bedroom, at her own request. Vi asked her earlier why she didn’t just want to stay on her bed, which would probably be the more comfortable option, but Cait shook her head as Vi helped her onto the mattress. “I just want to wake up to the sun in the morning,” she muttered. She offered that Vi stay on the bed, but they both knew the offer was going to be futile. After all that had happened in the past few hours, the very thought of spending a moment outside of each other’s peripheral felt dangerous.

“You can lie next to me,” Cait suggested before drifting to sleep. “Why sleep on the floor?”

Vi wanted to take her up on her offer. But she glanced at the tubes, and even though in any other circumstance she would have given in gladly, she knew that she’d be risking too much by taking up that space on Cait’s mattress. She didn’t want to accidentally rip out the tubes or kick Cait in her sleep. So she shook her head, brought over a pillow from Cait’s bed, and laid herself across the carpet.

Cait narrowed her eyes at her, but her exhaustion quickly whisked her off to sleep.

That conversation was during the night. Cait’s woken up a few times since then, each time with a jolt, followed by franting swiveling as she looked around her surroundings. But every time her gaze found Vi’s, she relaxed and let herself ease into her mattress again. At one point, she held her hand out, and Vi reached for it.

She hasn’t let go of it since. It’s the only thing keeping her anxiety at bay, knowing that Cait’s in her reach.

Now the sun shining through Cait’s windows makes Vi’s eyelids glow in a warm orange, and she frowns in frustration. She wants to sit up and talk to Cait, but she’s not sure whether to shatter their silence just yet. Vi knows she’s not sleeping, though. She’s been playing with Vi’s fingers for the past hour or so, tracing the lines against her hand.

“Can’t sleep?” whispers Cait, and Vi opens an eye at her voice. The sun splits through the window and arcs around Cait’s head, forming a slight blue halo around her, and Vi’s heart skips a beat at the sight. She’s lying on her stomach, face against the mattress as she looks down at her. If Vi was tired before, Cait’s voice evaporates any sort of exhaustion from her limbs.

“It’s a little bit hard when someone’s playing with my hand.” Vi smiles up at Cait, then opens the other eye. She runs her thumb over Cait’s, feeling the coarseness of her knuckle under her fingertip. “How could you tell?”

A slight pink blooms in Cait’s cheek, and Vi’s almost surprised at how innocent she looks. “Your eyelids keep twitching. And your breathing is uneven.” Then Cait winces. “I’m sorry. I should let you rest.”

“No, it’s fine. I wasn’t able to anyway.” Vi pushes herself into a sitting position and scoots closer to the mattress, and Cait shifts herself a little to make room. Vi lays an arm on the mattress and leans her head against it as she looks at Cait. “Can’t sleep either?”

Cait huffs a humorless laugh. “It’s a miracle I was even able to dream.”

Vi hums in sympathy. She glances at the bandage wrapped over Cait’s eye, blooming with a faint red ring, and brushes her thumb against her forehead gently. “How’s the pain?”

“All right.” Cait attempts a shrug, then winces. “Better than earlier.”

Vi offers a grudging nod, then brings her gaze to the bandages wrapped around Cait’s torso. Guilt pulses in her chest, and she lays a gentle hand against the gauze, feeling the roughness underneath her fingers. “When was the last time you changed these out?”

“I think I’m actually due for a change.” Cait raises an eyebrow at her. “Mind helping me do the honors?”

Vi gets to her feet gratefully. At least now she has somewhere to put her restless energy. She makes her way to the supply cart that Cait’s father set up at the foot of her bed and wheels it closer to the makeshift mattress. When she returns, she’s surprised to find Cait lying on her back now, her head tilted towards Vi. The sunlight streams in a green hue through the window and spills over Cait’s body, and, despite herself, Vi’s eyes catch on Cait’s bare chest. All she’s wearing is sunlight and the bandage holding her together.

Cait raises an eyebrow. “You’re staring.”

Vi can’t help the smile that erupts over her face. She doesn’t even have time to bite it back before Cait sees, so she chooses to embrace it instead. “My bad. Got a little distracted.”

“I can wear a shirt if you’d like.”

“No!” Vi’s adamance makes them both flinch, and Vi blinks in surprise. “I mean, no, it’s fine.” She meet’s Cait’s eye, and her chest heats at the sight of her gaze, so full and bright and curious. “It’s just… I like that you’re comfortable with me.”

“But you’ve already seen me half-naked.” A playful smile dances in Cait’s good eye. “I didn’t take you to be the shy type.”

“I know.” Vi shrugs. “But I don’t just mean that. I guess… I don’t know. I’m glad that you trust me to see you like this, like it’s an everyday thing. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world for me to wake up to you half-naked.” Before Cait can respond, Vi holds her hand out. “Let me help you up.”

Cait grips her hand, and Vi wraps her other arm around Cait’s back to ease her into a sitting position. She hisses with each movement, but they eventually have her propped up, although slightly pale. Vi pats Cait’s knee gently as she catches her breath. When some of her color returns, she looks at Vi with incredulity in her eye. “I don’t know how you even managed to survive that wound to your body,” she croaks out. “This is horrible.”

Vi smiles slyly. “Now we’re twins. Ready to take the bandage off?”

Cait’s eye closes as she takes a deep breath. “Yes.”

Vi picks at the end of the tape and pulls as gently as possible. Once it unsticks from the rest of the material, she begins unraveling it from Cait’s body. It’s a tauntingly slow procedure, one that consists of a lot of cursing and lip-biting and eye-scrunching on Cait’s part, and Vi feels guilty every time Cait flinches. But eventually the gauze comes off, and Cait’s wound stares back at Vi, gaping red and festering.

Now it’s Vi’s turn to flinch. “Yikes.”

Cait’s face is scrunched in pain. “Don’t say that.”

“Sorry. I mean, wow, your wound is the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.”

Despite her pale color, a sparkle of amusement twinkles in Cait’s eye. “Shut up.”

Vi throws a grin at her, then tosses the old bandage on the ground. She grabs a washcloth and a bowl of water from the cart, submerges the cloth in the water for a moment, then wrings it out and holds it in front of Cait. “This is probably going to sting a little more.”

Cait sighs heavily. She stretches her arms behind her to hold herself against the pain. Her head tilts back as a frown paints itself on her features, and in the sunlight, her neck flashes.

Vi forces her gaze to stay on the wound, if only to distract herself from how beautiful Cait looks right now. She gently dabs, and it takes a while for her to clean out some of the dried blood. Cait’s body scrunches against the sting, and each twitch of pain makes Vi twitch in sympathy, but she keeps going until the dried blood is cleaned away.

It feels like an eternity before she’s done cleaning it out, but eventually she throws the cloth - now painted in a faded red - to the ground. She reaches for a roll of gauze from the cart, then sits back down to face Cait, who looks even more worn out now.

“Last part,” Vi says, then gently brushes her hand against Cait’s knee. “Do you want to eat anything? I think your dad left some food.”

“I don’t even know if I have it in me to eat today.”

“I don’t blame you. Ready?”

“No.” But Cait clutches her mattress again, and a new determination comes over her.

Vi meets Cait’s eye, tilting her head to make sure she’s really ready, and Cait offers a slight nod. Vi starts by leaning forward and reaching her arms behind Cait’s back. She moves slowly, trying to be as gentle as possible as she wraps the gauze around and around. Cait only flinches a few times, which Vi considers as progress. She can feel Cait shivering against her every time she pulls in close, and despite the circumstance, a heat flickers in the pit of her stomach at the feel of her skin, warm and humming in her arms.

Finally, the gauze is thoroughly wrapped around Cait’s waist, and Vi uses the scissors on the cart to cut through it. As soon as Vi sticks it together, Cait releases a shuddering breath.

Vi’s about to ask if she wants to lie down again, but Cait beats her to it as she slowly crawls herself back onto the mattress. As soon as she hits the bed, a sigh of relief escapes her, and she presses the back of her hand to her forehead. A gentle silence falls over them as Cait steels herself against the releasing pain.

Vi watches her breathe for a moment. The sunlight soaks her body again, and even though she’s still a little pale, everything about Cait seems so vibrant in the light. Vi’s gaze travels up to the bandage over her eye, and she reaches out to brush Cait’s forehead again. When Cait opens her good eye in response, Vi gestures to the bandage with her chin. “How do you really feel?” she murmurs.

Cait shrugs. “It’s going to be difficult to get used to having one eye. And I’m sure I have some sort of concussion. But all that matters to me right now is that I’m alive, and that Ambessa didn’t get my good eye.”

Vi nods. Then she nips at her thumb to hide the twitch in her lips. “I know this is the least of your worries,” she muses, “but I think the one-eye look is gonna look so hot on you.”

Cait fixes Vi with a raised, playful eyebrow. “I’m glad you have your priorities straight.”

“Of course I do.” Vi meets Cait’s eye again, and they both giggle. But the laughter slowly dissipates into quiet again, and soon the only sound in the room is of their breathing.

In this new silence, Vi’s eyes trace Cait’s body. She starts at her face, radiant in the sunlight, then rolls over her neck, over her bare chest, down her abdomen. It’s kind of amazing the way Cait almost commands the light to fall on her. Her gaze catches on every scratch and gash and bruise on her body, and, impulsively, she reaches out and brushes her fingers over each blemish. Even bloodied and battered, she somehow has a way of stealing the beauty from the room.

She has the look of a warrior.

Vi drags her fingers down her bandages. The gauze is rough under her fingers, and she zigzags gently down the surface, until her touch lingers over the same place where Cait’s wound is. Then she retraces her steps, runs her fingers back onto the bare skin over Cait’s abdomen. Vi can feel the shiver in her skin as she breathes, and she swears her own fingers are glowing. She flicks her eyes up at Cait again, and when their gazes connect, Cait releases a breath and closes her eye, accepting Vi’s touch.

So Vi keeps going. Her fingers follow the trail of Cait’s muscles to her sternum, and the motion gently tugs Vi forward, too. Cait’s ribs rumble underneath her fingers, like sharp hills on her body. She risks another glance at Cait, whose blue eye pierces her once again, but now there’s an ease in it, as if she’s floating.

Vi brushes her fingers over Cait’s heart, and Cait’s breathing shallows the barest inch. Vi takes this as her permission to lay her lips on her sternum, and the scent of violets overwhelms her. She closes her eyes, trying to permanently memorize Cait solely through her fingertips. Her lips drag down Cait’s body, leaving kisses against every bare inch of skin that she can, but she stops just above her bandages. She looks up again to meet Cait’s eye, to make sure she’s not hurting her. Cait only looks curious, like she’s eager to see where Vi goes with this.

Vi flattens her fingertips a little more against Cait’s chest, so that the curve of her breast just barely fills Vi’s palm, and she traces her kisses up Cait’s sternum again. Then she shifts herself closer to Cait’s body, cupping her other hand against her waist to hold her better, and leaves kisses against the rising part of Cait’s breast, up into the dips of her collarbone, into the crook of her neck. Cait sighs and tilts her head, inviting Vi in. Vi takes her hand on Cait’s waist to the other side of her face, brushes her thumb against her cheekbone, savors the heat of Cait’s flush between her fingertips. She’s so close that she can feel Cait’s chest rising into her own each time she breathes, and the feeling sets her heart on fire.

Vi pushes her fingers under Cait’s chin and forces her head to tilt just a little bit more, then lets her bottom lip trail against Cait’s jaw, runs every bruise and knick under her lip, tastes her skin humming, until she reaches her final destination: Cait’s lips. Cait parts her lips a little wider, and as Vi finds her way in, Cait traces one hand over Vi’s back, up her neck, into her hair. Her fingers cradle Vi’s head so gently, and a tingling warmth erupts at the pit of her core, like a match just ignited. Her touch is a wildfire against Vi’s skin, and Vi swears her heart’s about to break out of her chest.

Vi tries to sigh, but it barely gets anything through because each time Cait scrunches her hand, another wave of desire steals Vi’s breath away. The hand on Cait’s face glides down her body again, this time with more purpose as Vi presses her palm against the side of Cait’s breast.

Cait��s neck arches at the touch.

Then Vi pulls away, and Cait blinks up at her, a daze buzzing in her eye.

Vi looks at Cait from here, watches her brow furrow in irritation. She tugs Cait’s bottom lip with her thumb, and another pinch of desire makes her want to dive right back in, but there’s a weight beginning to settle in her chest that pulls her back. Something about being this intimate right now, after everything that’s happened, feels… wrong.

She looks up and glances at the tubes still connected to Cait. She looks at her feet and spots the old bandages on the ground. She doesn’t look out the window, but she can hear some shouting every now and then as the world tries to rebuild itself outside.

Then she looks down at Cait again, and just as she expected, the world drowns itself out of her peripheral. She just wants to stare at Cait like this for a bit, memorialize the view of her in the light. Before the sun disappears.

And suddenly Vi realizes why she feels so off. All that destruction outside, and here they are, keeping themselves in this little bubble.

“Careful,” Vi says finally, and the way Cait’s brows dig deeper into her frown makes her smirk. “Can’t have your wound opening up again. We need you up and running, Commander.”

Cait releases a huff. “Don’t call me that,” she mutters, but there’s barely any fire in her words. Her hand in Vi’s hair glides down, down her neck and down her shoulder and down her arm. Her fingers whisper over Vi’s bicep, and Vi watches her gaze run over her arm, one finger carving over the lines of her muscles, then tracing her tattoos. Even though it was Vi doing most of the kissing, something about her touch feels more intimate than anything they’ve ever done together, like she's trailing promises against Vi’s skin. She closes her eyes and lives in the touch.

“How are you feeling?” Cait murmurs now. Her voice is soft, like sweet clouds against Vi’s ears, and behind her closed lids, Vi can almost pretend she’s floating.

“Probably better than you.” Vi opens her eyes and runs her hand against Cait’s bandages gently. But there’s a subtle weight in her words, and Vi knows that wounds are not what she’s talking about.

As if reading her mind, Cait drops her fingers from Vi’s arm to her hand, holding on a little too tight, and Vi’s throat aches all of a sudden. “Seriously, Vi,” she insists, running a thumb against her knuckles. A beat of silence passes, and then she whispers, “I want to know what happened.”

Vi looks down to watch her touch, and with every motion she makes, Vi’s chest grows heavier.

After a moment of hesitation, a long sigh drags out of Vi, like a snake that’s been coiled up in her chest. A new exhaustion falls over her, and she drags herself onto the ground again, knees pressing into the soft carpet underneath her. She crosses her arms against the mattress and drops her head into them. In response, Cait turns to her side, folding her arm underneath her head as she watches Vi, her good eye filling with overwhelming concern.

“She’s gone,” breathes Vi. “Her and my father.”

She surprises herself by the casualness of her tone, like this is an everyday occurrence. And maybe it is. After all, hasn’t she been practicing this line for months? She’s been practicing it ever since she first met Jinx, when everyone was trying to convince her Powder had died.

But it’s only now that it’s become true.

If Cait’s surprised by the news, Vi can hardly tell; the only difference is in the way her eyebrows cower together in the middle. “I heard,” she whispers. “I’m so sorry, Vi.”

Vi looks at her through her lashes, then points her gaze down to the foot of the bed, to the blanket cowering at Cait’s feet. She shrugs. “I guess it’s probably good news for you, though.”

She almost regrets the words as soon as they come out, because she knows it isn’t fair to Cait, not now. But she can’t help it; it’s a thought that’s haunted her ever since the night of the attack.

Jinx’s missile had been bad enough; the attack at the memorial was Cait’s breaking point. She had narrowed her gaze on Jinx so easily, like suddenly the rest of the world didn’t exist. And Vi understood - sympathized, even - but watching Cait’s every working thought narrow in on Jinx like she was just another one of her sniper targets made Vi’s skin prickle. Jinx became a shot she refused to miss, and even though Vi told Caitlyn - told herself - that Powder was gone, the thought of watching her sister die at Cait’s hands made her stomach turn with every step closer to Jinx.

What made her even sicker was the fact that she’d followed so blindly.

Cait releases a deep sigh, but she stays quiet for a moment. And Vi’s grateful for that; right now, all she really wants is silence. Maybe it’s not fair to Cait, but maybe she wants her to sit in the implications of her words anyway.

Maybe she wants them both to sit in the weight of their mistakes.

“I don’t think it’s good news.” The gentleness in Cait’s voice surprises Vi, though she doesn’t really know why. Vi turns her gaze back at Cait, only to find that Cait’s own focus has shifted to the foot of her mattress as well. “I know Jinx and I have never seen eye-to-eye, but… things are clearer to me now.” Cait closes her eye, and Vi wants to reach out to touch the crinkle that appears between her brows. She doesn’t, though. “I don’t think she was ever the villain. I think I made her out to be one because… because I wanted someone to blame. I think she was… a product of failed dreams. A victim of her environment.” Then Cait meets Vi’s gaze. Her eye shines with so much sincerity, so much fear, that it makes Vi want to eat her own words. “An environment that I regret ever playing a part in.”

Vi begins to draw circles against the mattress sheets. She’s quiet for a moment, and the silence feels heavy on her shoulders, like a weight pressing over both her and Cait. The weight of responsibility, of truth.

“I guess it just feels a little stupid.” Vi shrugs. “It felt like every move I made with either of you, I was making the wrong one. Like any time I tried to protect one, the other would always be pointing a gun at me. There was just no winning. But now Jinx is gone, and the game’s over, and I failed to protect her or save her, and it’s just… What was all my fighting for? If she was just going to drop out like that, what did I fight for all that time?”

Vi closes her eyes, and when she does, all she sees is the glow of the Hexgates beneath her, almost beautiful, blue as Jinx’s hair. Powder’s hair. And she sees the light in Jinx’s eyes, almost violet, as she looked up at her, an eerie peace solidifying in her irises.

Always with you, sis. That smile, soft and subtle and beautiful. Her Powder, in a different body. Her Jinx, in a new form.

And then she fell, the distance between them growing stronger with every passing second.

“I don’t think you failed, Vi,” Cait says, and her voice an anchor on Vi’s thoughts; she finds her gaze swimming back to the present. “I wasn’t there when she died, but if there’s anything I’ve seen from the few times I’ve seen you together…” Cait blinks a few times, as if trying to clear her vision. “You have such a deep bond. Even after all that time, even after everything you’ve done to each other and have been through, you loved each other. I saw it in the way you protected her in that explosion at the camp. I saw it in the way Jinx gave herself up without any hesitation - she thought it was going to save you.” Cait’s eyes harden in thought, as if trying to piece together a puzzle, and the sight of her frown makes Vi almost want to laugh. If there’s anything Cait loves doing, it’s finding answers. “I don’t think her decision to fall was you failing to protect her. Maybe it was her trying to repay the favor. Maybe she was protecting you.”

Vi considers this, frowning. “Well, she did a pretty shit job. Nothing’s going to protect me from the guilt of knowing she sacrificed herself for me, all because I was stupid enough to think Vander was still in there.” Vi’s eyes prick with tears, and against her will, her chin begins to tremble. “That’s just my problem. I don’t expect people to change.” Vi lets out a shaking breath, trying to ease herself out of a sob. “But they do. They always do.”

Then she meets Cait’s gaze, and Cait’s eyebrows rise in both concern and regret, and Vi is suddenly hit with a wave of dread. Her thoughts flicker back to that moment in the sewers months ago, the two of them leaning against the wall, warm in the chill of their surroundings. How sincere Cait looked. How hopeful Vi had been.

And she knows Cait’s thinking exactly what she’s thinking.

The air around them hangs heavy and dense, and Vi’s shoulders burn under the weight of the moment. She knows what she’s implying, and she knows she has Cait backed into a corner. Suddenly the world around her feels darker, smaller. Like she’s back in her prison cell.

“I don’t think change is something you can stop,” Cait says, and the way her voice wavers, Vi knows she’s trying to tread cautiously. The distance between them, though minimal, feels too deep and treacherous. “You’re talking about change as if it’s your fault people change. But it’s not, Vi. People change for a lot of reasons. For love. For a greater cause. For grief.” Cait’s eye closes and takes a deep breath, and Vi knows she’s thinking of her mother. “I don’t think it’s stupid for you to hold onto hope for people. If anything, I think it shows how big your heart is. You look for the good in everyone, especially those you care about. That’s a strength a lot of people don’t have.” Cait frowns. “It’s a strength I didn’t have, and look where it landed us. A war on our front step.”

Vi narrows her eyes and points her gaze at a loose thread of the sheet. She picks at it. “Was it strength when I thought Vander was still in that… that body? If I had just moved like Jinx told me to, she wouldn’t be gone now.”

Cait’s gaze moves past Vi, to a spot above Vi’s head, as if looking for the answer behind her. She’s quiet for a few moments, and with each passing second, Vi’s heart feels heavier in her chest.

“Jinx made her choice,” Cait says finally, bringing her gaze back to Vi’s. “I know this is so much easier said than done, but you can’t blame yourself for what she chose to do.”

“Was it really a choice, though?” Vi’s brows furrow, and she can feel the tears burn against her throat again. “I didn’t really give her much of one. I was the one just standing there. If she hadn’t shoved Vander away, it would’ve been me falling instead.” Vi blinks, and for a fleeting moment, she imagines it: her in Jinx’s place, falling right down with Vander. Her being the one to hold onto him. Sure, she would’ve died - but Jinx would’ve been saved. And now a tear slips out. “It should’ve been me.”

“At what cost?” Cait asks, and the adamancy in her voice makes Vi flinch. It must surprise Cait, too, because she blinks as if the voice wasn’t even hers. Then her eyes soften, and she reaches out and threads her fingers through her hair. The touch brings some semblance of calm over Vi, and she closes her eyes. “You can pretend that sacrificing yourself would have made things better, but they wouldn’t have, Vi. If it was you who fell, I don’t think Jinx would have been able to handle it.” Cait’s brows furrow. “Ekko told me she was about to commit suicide before he convinced her to come. If you had been the one to go, I think that would have just sent her over the edge. I have no doubt she would have jumped right after you and Vander.” Cait tilts Vi’s chin closer gently, urging her to look at her. “Think about it like this. If you had been the one to fall, who, exactly, would you have been saving?”

Vi narrows her gaze at a spot on the mattress as she considers it. She knows there’s some truth to Cait’s words - Jinx might have followed her down. And, for a brief second, an eerie calmness falls over Vi at the thought. At least then we would have been a family again, she thinks selfishly.

Maybe Cait has a point - maybe there was never going to be a good ending. Someone was going to die at that moment. But still - the regret has been burning a hole through Vi for hours now.

Was there never another ending? Another future?

For some reason, the question makes Vi’s chest burn with rage. Cait’s asking too much, suggesting too much. Her fist slams into the ground, so hard it shakes the floor around them, and her face falls into the mattress. Her knuckles pulse with pain, and that pain bounces all the way back into her heart and transforms into a sudden wave of desperation, and a sob explodes out of her, so painful she’s convinced her chest has cracked open in half. The fabric around her becomes wet as her tears come pouring down.

“It’s so unfair,” she seethes, her words muffled by the mattress. Her voice catches in her throat, and another sob cracks her chest like lightning. “All that waiting… all those years wasted in a prison, telling myself that I’ll find her or die trying. And the moment I do… She just fucking leaves.” Her sobs fall easier now, as if some coil in her chest has been released. “It’s not fair.”

Cait doesn’t say anything, and Vi’s grateful for it. The silence gives her the space for her grief, and she takes every inch of it that she can. In the vicinity of all the high walls and empty space of Cait’s bedroom, Vi’s ears echo with every sob that racks her body, and each echo sends another wave of devastation through her heart. It turns into a vicious cycle of grieving and listening, grieving and listening.

Then Cait’s hand touches her own, and Vi tilts her head to look at her. Her heart cracks even further at the glistening in Cait’s own eye and the sucking of her bottom lip, as if she’s trying not to break for Vi’s sake. Cait’s thumb rubs over Vi��s bruised knuckles, and even though she feels hollow and exhausted right now, the motion still brings a sense of comfort through her.

Cait leans forward and kisses Vi’s head, slowly, softly. And when she pulls back, she brushes her thumb over Vi’s cheek.

Even though she doesn’t say anything, her touch feels like an apology. A promise.

And Vi’s tears come hotter than ever.

Vi’s not sure how long she’s sitting there, ruining Cait’s sheets with her tears, but eventually she opens her eyes again. Except they feel weird - swollen and stiff, like stinging weights on her eyes. Her face feels hot, her nose too heavy. And, as she blinks up, she’s surprised to find only darkness above her.

With a start, she realizes she’s lying on the ground again. A blanket puddles around her.

She feels a weight on her waist, and she looks over her shoulder to find Cait on the carpet with her, fast asleep, the tubes and vials removed from her body and a sweater over her. Her chest rises and falls against Vi’s back with each breath she takes.

Vi’s eyes burn again at the sight of Cait, down on the floor with her, curled up against her, but this time the tears feel lighter. Not happy, but not sad either. Just relieving, like shme’s shrugging off a heavy weight. She tries to keep quiet, but her attempt at holding back her tears makes her start shivering, and Cait’s eye opens. She frowns in confusion, bleary with sleep. But when she searches Vi’s face through the darkness, the furrow in her brows releases, and she moves her hand on Vi’s waist to touch her cheek, her fingers soaking in her tears. She pulls Vi’s head gently towards her, presses her forehead to hers.

Vi breathes out a sigh. And she lets her eyes flutter close again.

#caitvi #arcane #vi #caitlyn #caitlyn kiramman #my writing #caitvi fanfic #caitvi fic #arcane fic #arcane fanfic #caitlyn fic #caitlyn fanfic #vi fic #vi fanfic #caitlyn kiramman fanfic #caitlyn kiramman fic

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multifandomfangirl93 · 2 days ago

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Relax- Buddie x reader

Summary: After a rough shift, you wake up the boys in a panic. Comfort ensues.

Warnings: mentions possible death, panic attack, nightmares

Authors note: Hey guys! It’s good to be back and in the creative world again. I’ve been pretty obsessed with Buddie recently and decided to randomly pick some prompts and write them! Hope you enjoy as I periodically dump my random stories until I get more asks. ✌🏼

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It had been a rough shift. You felt like things were going wrong left and right. You’ve seen more injuries and more smoke this shift than you have on any other singular shift. To top it all off, you thought you lost the loves of your life at one point.

Eddie and Buck had gone into a building and fell through an unstable floor. Luckily, neither of them got hurt, but you had lost contact for a good 10 minutes. Of course, during that time, the building partially collapsed. Bobby and Athena, who had been talking while you all waited for everyone to exit the building, held you back as you screamed for your lovers. Bobby’s heart broke as he looked at the sergeant and you, who was now sagging in his grip as you wailed as the fight drained out of you. By the grace of God, Eddie and Buck emerged from the far end of the building, having been saved by the concrete basement they fell next to. The place they fell in was a hallway of sorts next to the basement. By pure luck, the two had made it through the door of the basement before the building collapsed. Their radios had been broken by their fall, so they couldn’t relay that they were okay. You quickly tried to regain your composure once you were in your lovers’ arms and were immensely grateful when Athena drove the three of you back to the station while everyone else wrapped up the fire.

Now, an hour later, you were walking into your home with your boys. You all drop your bags at the door to be dealt with later. Normally, you or Eddie would attend to your things immediately, but you all desperately needed a shower so that you could all go to bed. You were exhausted. Tear lines still visible in the soot stuck to your face. You’ve had a tight grip on either Eddie or Buck since you were reunited, almost like you were scared they would disappear if you let go.

Showers were quickly taken as the boys whispered words of comfort to you and each other. You allowed the boys to wash your body and your hair, as your energy was quickly waning. They didn’t take long, wanting to get you in comfortable clothes and laid down. You barely registered any of it, so exhausted and wanting to just snuggle up in their arms. You got your wish not 20 minutes after your shower and quickly fell asleep, but that didn’t last for long.

Two hours later, you shot up in bed, jostling both men since they were wrapped around you. Your breathing was quick and your body quaked as you frantically pushed yourself up against the headboard. The faint smell of smoke still clung to the air as you hurried breaths sucked in the smell mixed with the smell of your boys.

“N-no. No no no.” You breathed out, rubbing your eyes HARD. All you could see were Eddie and Buck’s bodies laying lifeless on stretchers as Bobby, Hen, and Chim tried to revive them. You were so caught up in your dream world that you jerked away when a hand made contact with your arm.

“Sweetheart.” Eddie whispered, not pulling back from you as he caressed your arm. He and Buck had been woken up by your whimpers and whispers of their names in your sleep. They both know not to wake you when you are having a nightmare, but most the time, you are more coherent when you wake up.

Your head shot up at the sound of Eddie’s voice. You hadn’t even realized that someone turned the side table lamp on, or that you were in your own bed with your lovers. Tears still streamed down your face as you looked around the room, looking at both of your boys. “Y-you w-were. I alm-most.” You shook your head, stars dancing in your vision from the force of it.

Buck and Eddie sighed, both leaning into your view. They knew what you thought happened. Bobby had messaged and warned them about your reaction. He urged them to be careful with you and keep a watchful eye. You thought they died, and quite frankly, so did everyone else at the time.

“Baby. We are right here. It’s okay.” Buck whispered, reaching up to swipe your tears away with the pad of his thumb.

“Breathe. Just breathe.” Eddie coached, taking your hand and putting it on his chest. “Feel that? I’m here.” Then he moved your hand to Buck’s chest. “See? Evan is here too. Just relax sweetheart. It’s okay now.” Eddie soothed, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

You were still gasping, having a hard time reeling in your emotions. You felt the weight of grief and anguish as you tried to banish the mental images your dreams brought up. You thought you had lost the two most important people in your life. You thought you were now a single mother to Christopher, whom was still in Texas. You didn’t know how you were going to explain to him that you had lost his dads.

Buck could tell you weren't going to calm down this way. His heart broke as he watched your chest heave and bottom lip tremble as you sobbed, clutching onto Eddie’s hand and gripping his shirt in your other hand. He made the executive decision and pulled you into his lap, scooting over next to Eddie with you clutched to his chest.

“Shhh. Angel, I need you to slow down.” Buck whispered, kissing your forehead. “I’ve gotcha. We are okay. Sh Sh Sh.” Evan whispered, rocking you gently in his lap.

Eddie stood to go grab you a wet wash cloth, but immediately sat back down when you almost fell out of Buck’s lap to scramble after him, not ready to let either of them out of your sight. “Okay baby. Okay. I’m here too. Shhhhhh. It’s all okay now. Everything is okay. We are all safe.” Eddie soothed, looking between you and Buck.

You nodded, trying your best to breathe. Eddie pressed his chest into your side as you snuggled into Buck’s embrace, tucking your face away in his neck. You sniffled lightly and gently kissed his exposed neck. You breathed in their scent as you leaned a little further into Eddie while still snuggling Buck close.

“You smell good.” You whispered, nudging Buck with your nose.

Buck laughed, craning his neck to kiss your forehead. “Thanks baby girl.” He whispered back, smiling at Eddie over your head.

“I thought I would only smell your scents in our sheets and on your clothes for a while there.” You quietly confessed, hands clutching Eddie’s arm that was wrapped around your waist and the back of Buck’s sleep shirt in the other.

You felt Eddie breathe deeply against the back of your neck where his face was buried. Buck tensed under your hand. Neither of them wanted you to relive those horrible few moments. They’ve felt it enough in their careers, but they also know it’s even worse when it’s your partner.

“We know baby. We know.” Buck finally whispered, kissing your forehead once more.

“But you can relax now. We are both right here.” Eddie soothed, kissing your shoulder blade.

You nodded, head feeling heavy as the warmth of your two lovers melted all the lingering panic. There voices soothing you more than their touch. Eddie felt you relax, taking the permission he gave.

“Now, I’m gonna go get you a warm wash cloth, okay hermosa?” Eddie whispered, not wanting to break the bubble of peace that now enveloped the bed, but wanting to clean your face up before you all went back to bed. He knew the last thing you needed was to wake up with a stiff face from dried tears.

You cracked a smile, letting go of Eddie’s arm after placing a kiss to the back of his hand before he could retreat. Buck relaxed more under you, pulling you closer in his embrace. He never wanted to let you go.

“I’m so sorry we scared you Angel. You know we will always fight to come back to you, right?” Buck asked, running his fingers through your hair when he removed your ponytail, slipping the band on his wrist.

You nodded, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “I know.” You said, taking a deep breath. “I know.” You whispered, holding on just a little tighter as you waited for Eddie to return.

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If you want to be on my new tag list: comment or send me a message!

I hope you enjoyed!

#eddie diaz #911 #evan buckley #911 abc #buddie all the way #buddie x reader #mentions of Bobby Nash #mentions of Athena Grant-Nash #mentions of Hen Wilson #mentions of Chimney

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jks1uv · 3 days ago

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𝑆𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐺𝑜𝑜𝑑 ; steven grant | one-shot |

summary: you reckon your boyfriend deserves something good after the terrible day he’s had.

pairing: fem!reader x steven grant.

trope: established relationship + guy has a bad day, girl makes it all better.

genre: fluff + mild angst + romance.

warnings‼️: donna’s bitch ass 😒 i HATE her bro oh my godd + crude language + steven’s had it rough + suggestive (they make-out for a lil bit, reader wears lingerie) + heavily implies sex.

word count: 1,761.

random disclaimerrr: heard MashedPotato’s full Birthday x Pillowtalk remix on soundcloud & GYAT they cooked 🙏🏽 italics = steven’s inner thoughts & bold = marc’s inner thoughts. psa: steven grant is my pretty princess 😊 happy reading! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ ♡ © 2024 @jks1uv

────♡♡♡────

Steven’s upset. You hate when he’s upset. In your eyes, he deserves nothing but good things and a full night’s sleep.

Alas, he can’t have both.

He sighs into the phone and you can hear the exhaustion in it. You can almost feel it, too.

“‘m just ready to come home to you.” He chuckles dryly.

“Oh.”

You don’t know what to say to that.

It’s times like this when you wish you could handle another person’s problem.

You know how much of a bitch his boss, Donna, is. You don’t believe her. You can’t fathom just how annoyingly rude, pathetically rude, and disrespectfully rude someone can be, let alone to Steven.

He’s your golden boy, the best man alive. The love of your life.

How can someone hurt the feelings of a guy that doesn’t have a single bad bone in his body?

To know he’s being treated like shit and know you can’t do anything about it irks your soul.

“Alright, love, I’ve gotta go. But I’ll see you tonight?”

You beam at his reminder. “Mhmm.”

“I love you.”

You’ll never get tired of hearing that.

“I love you.” You echo with butterflies swarming around your ribs.

You end the call and think about every time Steven’s had to go through a rough patch because of her; the Devil incarnate.

And maybe that’s a bit of an overkill but you digress. She is a bacon dripping, miserable, awful, obtuse angle of a two-faced cunt.

And you know what else? Maybe you will do something about it.

────♡♡♡────

Your boyfriend is exhausted.

It’s nothing like tiredness after a night’s work of acting as Khonshu’s right hand, but it’s something.

His eyes threaten to close on him not too long before his body starts to weigh heavier each step he takes.

Just gotta make it to the elevator.

He’s hopeful, but it doesn’t last long. There’s a dreaded sign that forms the letters he wishes weren’t there.

Out of order. Use the stairs.

He stares blankly at the white piece of paper with the black, bold words staring right back at him. As if it’s mocking him.

He sighs deeply and begrudgingly moves up the four flights of stairs. Every time he blinks, he imagines his bed.

It's not too hot but not too cold.

You’re in your designated spot right next to him, curled up under the blanket watching some movie.

Steven fishes for his key to open up his little paradise.

It’s almost dark. The only sources of light being the outside hallway he stands in and the faint orange tint emitting from the direction of his bedroom.

“Love?” He calls out.

You don’t answer him. You want him to come to you and see for himself so you wait. Patiently, excitedly.

He closes the door and passes by his reflection where Marc is telling him to follow the light.

She’s in there, I can feel her.

“I know.” He hums softly.

Steven can feel Jake’s curiosity.

The mysterious man doesn’t talk much but when his presence is needed, his actions tend to speak for him.

Steven knows this because he could feel the restlessness in the brooding man when you wouldn’t pick up your phone— a curse of your ringer always being on silent mode.

“What’s going on-?”

His mouth dries up. His jaw goes slack and his eyes are cartoonishly large.

Wide awake now, huh?

Steven doesn’t bother to answer. Not when he’s too busy gawking at you.

You’re on your side, an elbow propped up to give your head an angle of his entrance. Your legs are slightly bent at the knee and your other arm rests on the curves of your side.

Lacy red lingerie and the warm, rich smell of amber cloud his senses.

You see him visibly change; his shoulders drop their tension, he straightens up his back a bit and the muscles on his face relax.

You definitely don’t miss the way his dark eyes run a trail across your body and when they meet your eyes, you recognize him.

“Go back inside, Marc.”

He scoffs. “Oh, come on. Seriously?”

Your face doesn’t change and when he realizes he won’t change your mind, he retreats.

“Alright, alright.” He raises both hands to show complacency.

“But I’ll be watching.”

He winks at you and before you can scold him, he’s gone. Left just as fast as he appeared.

Your sweet Steven is still blushy and nervous, his gaze darting all around the room. From the candles to the rose petal covered bed.

He picks up a petal and blinks.

He’s touched.

“All this… f’me?” He asks so gently, it melts your heart.

You sit up at the front of the bed; he’s between your knees and he looks down at you while you look up at him.

“Why, you expecting someone else?” You lightly tease.

You press a kiss into the side and he smiles bashfully.

You stand from the bed and he backs up a bit to give you space but you quickly close it.

Your arms wrap around his neck and he gulps. His hands are a bit shaky but he still has an ounce of courage to place them on your hips. His fingers subconsciously press into the flesh.

You pull him closer and his eyes zero in on your painted lips.

“I know you’re probably tired from today,” You murmur. “but I don’t want you to think about that right now.”

You pry a stubborn curl away from his face and bask in his gaze. The pad of your finger traces along the edge of his nose and he laughs through his nose.

His chin turns downwards but you tilt it back up. His eyes look back and forth between yours, searching for the comfort he’s desperate for. And you give it to him.

You press a soft kiss to his forehead, one to his nose, and a last one to his lips.

He melts into your affection and his mind slips away from the terrible recollection of that day’s past events.

His hold on your hips warm your cold, almost-naked body. Your lips intertwine with his and you hear him mumble.

“What did you do?” He muses.

You throw your head back and giggle incredulously.

“What did I just say!”

He smiles at the sound of your joy but he couldn’t help himself. He had to know.

“You’re in a better mood than I am, that means something.”

You roll your eyes playfully and kiss him breathless.

You grab a fistful of his luscious curls and he groans into your mouth as you tug lightly.

You take a couple steps backwards and almost have him when the familiar snap of a bra strap breaks you apart.

You wince. “Ow- what the fuck-?!”

That look on your boyfriend’s face tells you it isn’t that gentle, sweet-natured man you adore.

“Marc.” You warn.

“I’m sorry, honey, I had to! You look so fucking beautiful right now and I’ve always wanted to do that-”

You place your palm on his lips, shutting him up.

“Okay, look. You’re gonna give him the body for the rest of the night and I will see you tomorrow morning. Sounds good?”

He raises an eyebrow at your directions and grabs a handful of your thighs, pulling you flush against him.

“You’re so hot when you’re bossy. You know that?”

“Yeah.” You smirk.

He quickly pecks your lips and you can’t help but smile at his eagerness.

“Tomorrow morning.” You promise.

Before Steven changes his mind, you turn around and push him on the bed, quickly climbing on top of him.

His eyes grow once more at your actions.

“Please, Steven. No more interruptions this time.”

He sits up and watches you sit down his lap.

“O-okay.”

His heart speeds up as you plant your hands on his shoulders once again and work your way up.

Your kisses stain his neck and he shudders under you.

It’s strange, how he can never get used to your affection. All his life, all he’s ever wanted was tender care and now that he’s got it; he doesn’t know how to act.

You hear him grunt and sigh, he even turn and angles his head so you can have more access.

You’re man’s a quick learner.

His hands wander your back, leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake.

Your lips touch his jaw and he’s putty in your hands. They graze over the skin a bit before you whisper, “You with me so far?”.

“Mhm.”

He’s on autopilot.

He feels the familiar sensation of your grin on his skin and he pulls back to see it in all of its glory.

He’s staring at you but all you see back in his eyes is the woman who’s most deserving of it.

It’s kind of poetic, actually.

────♡♡♡────

You know how people say sex leaves your skin with a sort of ‘afterglow’? Like, there’s a visible light in your face, skin, and eyes. One that can’t be ignored.

“Is there something on my face?”

Well, he can’t not wonder out loud. The man’s been getting stares, sly grins, even a pat on the back from the janitor.

You really don’t know.

Steven rolls his eyes.

“I don’t think I would’ve asked if I knew, mate.”

Marc huffs amusedly at his sass but answers him nonetheless.

It has to do with your… activities last night.

Steven feels his face warm at the mention but what did that mean?

An afterglow, Steven. It’s literally all over your face.

“Bollocks.” He whispers.

Yeah, she had plenty of those.

Steven groans at his crude remark. “That’s what we’re doing. Seriously?”

But it couldn’t be that obvious… could it?

His train of thought are halted to a full stop as he hears his boss yelling at some poor chap.

Remind me, why can’t you just quit?

“Because I love my job too much to let someone sway me away from it.”

Steven’s watching as Donna carries a box full of her own stuff and is being escorted… outside?

He looks around and finds a coworker watching the spectacle as well.

“Pardon me, but what’s going on?”

“You didn’t hear? A child found her dildo amongst the stuffed toys.”

Wow.

“I beg your pardon?”

Now this was something he did not see coming.

“I’m being set up!” Donna cries. “Please, you have to believe me!”

Steven’s having a hard time believing this but one thing he knows for sure: you don’t play about him.

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snoringkitty1 · 7 hours ago

Text

Here for you

always

　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

The nights like usual were peaceful and pleasant, faint lights peered through the curtain of the bedroom, but it wasn't enough to stir you, or the man you were slumbering next to.

Harumasa Asaba of Section 6, his face slightly squished against his pillow as his brows furrowed in his sleep. Clearly, for him, the night wasn't quite as peaceful as it usually was.

His heart beat against its cage as if it were seeking an escape from the hellscape in his head. You only woke up because he stole most of the blanket when he rolled over, and you had gotten cold.

You opened your eyes, in your half asleep state you tried to snuggle closer to him but he subconsciously pushed you away. You sat up and scowled before seeing his expression, pain and desperation painted all over his face.

"Haru-" you whispered hurriedly, patting his chest and moving the blanket off of him in case he started running a fever. You looked at the medicine on his nightstand and sighed before returning your focus to him.

He flinched at the slightest touch, but suddenly his eyes shot open and he gasped, his golden eyes stared at the ceiling for a moment before they flickered to you. The was silence between you two before he sat up and pulled you into a sudden, but very secure and tight hug.

Your eyes widened before you pulled him close and buried your face in the crook of his neck. "Nightmares..?" you inquired, frowning when he nodded and sniffled. "I-it was..so vivid-- i thought.." he murmured and squeezed you tighter.

"I thought i had..hurt you- killed you, even.." he let out a shaky sigh before leaning back and holding your face. "All the color in your face was gone.." seeing Harumasa so distraught had become a thing as of late. His nightmares had become more frequent ever since the two of you moved in together.

He pestered you until you gave in, he was always anxious about a hollow popping up out of nowhere where you lived and him not being able to do anything about it. It was reasonable, so you gave in, but now his nightmares only seemed to get worse for no reason.

You held his hands against your face and smiled at him, "Haru, i'm safe and sound," you began and kissed his palms "I'm in your arms, your bed, your house. And you, i know you wouldn't do anything to hurt me, ever.."

His brows knit and he shook his head, his hands reaching to cover the puncture scars on his neck. "But it wasn't me..i was- a monster.." at the mention of becoming a monster, his panic only seemed to worsen terribly.

You wrapped your arms around him again and squeezed to help bring him back down to earth, he was doing all he could not to cry. "How about this.." you leaned back and buttoned up his shirt a little before pecking the corners of his eyes.

"Let's take a quick visit to the kitchen, i'll make you some tea, and we can watch TV on the couch until we fall asleep?" you offered and kissed his cheeks. His golden eyes softened before he sighed and nodded, "Don't put so much sugar in it this time.." he chuckled softly and poked your cheek.

You rolled your eyes and stuck your tongue out at him before getting up and pulling him out of bed. He groaned dramatically and slumped forward onto you, laughing as you grumbled and tried your best not to shove him off and back onto bed.

"Carry me..~" He mused as a joke, chuckling as you rolled your eyes and he stepped back. "You have two feet and a heartbeat, get to walking." he laughed and scratched the back of his head as he walked passed you.

You smiled to yourself and followed him, eventually slipping your hand into his and pulling it up to kiss his knuckles. Despite his line of work, his hands and fingers were smooth and soft, if not for his archer's gloves, he'd likely have a few more callouses.

When you both reached the kitchen, you let go of his hand and walked over to the tea kettle and prepared to brew him something that would help him fall asleep again. He didn't linger far from you though, he leaned against the counter and crossed his arms as he watched your fill it with tea leaves and water.

He didn't have his iconic yellow headband on, and his hair was a mess, it was oddly endearing and attractive to see him in a sleepy, casual state. Oh, how many people would kill to be in your position right now.

He was busy undoing the buttons that you did up minutes prior, looking over to you while you turned the stove on. He smirked and slipped behind you, his arms making their way around your waist as he pulled you away from the counterside.

"Haru, what are you up to now?" You asked before suddenly he turned you around and leaned forward to rest his forehead on your shoulder, his arms tightening around your waist. "Just stay right here.." he hummed softly, making you chuckle "yes sir.."

He smiled, beginning to slowly sway with you in the kitchen. It was quiet, there was no music, yet he didn't seem bothered and continued to sway with you. "Thank you.." he whispered just under his breath. You didn't receive sincere thank you's from him often, so hearing it made you smile, "I'm happy to help.."

You wrapped your arms around him and rubbed his back, his white button up shirt was all wrinkled from how he was tossing and turning thanks to his nightmares. "You should go round up all the pillows and blankets in the living room and make a nice little spot for us to cuddle." you hummed and kissed the side of his head.

"Heh, yes ma'am." he chuckled and leaned back to give you a brief kiss before he turned away completely. You watched him go for a moment, covering your mouth and giggling. He was immature and childish at times, but your found his dorkus behavior endearing at the right moments.

You focused on getting mugs out for the tea, and other various things to put in your tea. "Tea is almost done Haru." you called, looking over and seeing him holding all the blankets he could find in one big ball. He smiled at you and nodded before tossing the blankets on the couch, making a cozy nest out of them, and jogging over to you.

"You didn't put a bunch of sugar in it to mess with me again, right?" he inquired and looked at the kettle with a wary look before he kissed the side of your head and turned away to pour the tea. "Nope, the goal is to get you back to sleep, not having you bouncing off the wall." you crossed your arms.

He chuckled and set the kettle back on the stove, fixing your tea just how you liked it, apparently from memory it seems before he handed it off to you. "C'mon, we got movies to watch~" he cooed, as if he wasn't going to doze off in the first ten minutes.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed his hand, the two of you making your way to the couch, getting snuggled up and comfortable. The TV was already playing something quietly, so you two just got to relax and drink your tea.

Asaba rarely was so relaxed, something was always occupying his mind, even when he was supposed to be relaxing at home on his 'sick' leave. Typically it was his illness that kept his mind busy, even in his sleep.

Even now, he was likely think about that nightmare considering he was holding you about as tight as he holds his bow in the middle of a fight. "Asaba." you began, he looked over and tilted his head, "My first name? Must be serious~" he grinned and waited for you to continue.

You sighed and leaned close to peck his lips to shut him up for a minute, "If you had turned into an ethereal, i would kill you." you stated and his eyes widened. "I wouldn't let you die knowing you had been the death of me, literally." you chuckled and kissed his lips again.

"..How do you manage to read my thought all the time?" he whined and lowered his head, "Thank you..i'd much prefer i die over you." he hummed and squished your cheeks, his somber attitude shifting. "Now~ keep your pretty mouth closed, and lets watch the movie." he grinned.

You giggled and nodded, "Yes sir." you stuck your tongue out at him and he let go of your face and leaned back and sipped his tea.

Silence filled the space, and eventually you finished your tea and he finished his, the two of you now content and sleepy all over again. The movie became white noise, helping the two of stay asleep.

Thanks for reading

#ZZZ #zzz #zzzero #zzz x reader #ZZZ x reader #zzz harumasa #harumasa x reader #asaba harumasa #zenless zone zero harumasa #harumasa zzz #Harumasa Asaba #Asaba x Reader #Asaba x reader #boyfriend #fluff #headcanon #x reader

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nknoxe-n · 10 hours ago

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◅You call that breakfast?▻

Synopsis: Shidou decides to make you breakfast in bed, too bad his idea of 'breakfast' is atrocious

Warnings: [Shidou himself is always a warning]

w.c 800

The early morning sun peeked through your curtains, its gentle warmth tugging you from sleep. The faint sound of clinking and shuffling echoed from the direction of the kitchen, immediately setting off alarm bells in your groggy mind. Before you could fully process what was happening, Ryusei barged into your bedroom with a tray in hand, a mischievous grin plastered across his face.

“Good morning, sugar tits!” He exclaimed, plopping the tray onto the bed with an exaggerated tone.

You blinked at him, still half-asleep, before glancing at the tray. On it sat an alarming assortment of items: a half-eaten bag of spicy chips, a handful of gummy bears arranged in a smiley face, a can of soda, and what appeared to be a sandwich… if sandwiches were made with two slices of bread and nothing in between.

“Ta-da!” he announced proudly, throwing his hands in the air like he’d just scored the winning goal in a championship game. “A gourmet breakfast, handcrafted with love by yours truly. Go ahead, dig in!”

You gave him a deadpan look. “Ryu… this is not breakfast. This is.. Chaos on a plate.”

“Chaos?” he gasped, clutching his chest like you’d mortally wounded him. “You wound me, babe. This is art. Picasso would weep at the beauty of this spread.!”

You raised an eyebrow, suppressing a laugh. “Picasso didn’t make food.”

“Exactly!” he retorted as if what he was trying to say was plain obvious, leaning in close with that signature manic sparkle in his eyes. “That’s what makes this better. Now, taste it before I cry.”

Knowing there was no winning against him, you sighed and picked up a gummy bear, popping it into your mouth. “Happy now?”

His grin widened as he plucked a chip from the bag and held it to your lips. “Not until you’ve tried everything. Open up, babe.”

You rolled your eyes but obliged, crunching down on the chip. It was absurdly spicy, the heat immediately hitting your tongue. You coughed, reaching for the soda, but Shidou snatched it away with a devilish laugh.

“Ah-ah, no drinks until you finish the sandwich,” he teased, holding the can just out of reach.

“Shidou Ryusei,” you said, your voice a warning.

“What? I’m just trying to make sure you enjoy the full experience,” he replied innocently, his grin anything but.

You shook your head, suppressing a laugh, and reached for the soda again. This time, you managed to snatch it from his grasp, triumphantly cracking it open.

Before you could take a sip, Shidou leaned closer, his face suddenly inches from yours. “Careful,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing. “That soda’s not just any soda. It’s infused with the magic of my love. One sip, and you might fall even harder for me~”

You froze for a moment, caught off guard by the intensity in his gaze, before bursting into laughter. “Shidou, you’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re adorable,” he shot back without missing a beat. “So, who’s really winning here?”

Deciding to play along, you took a dramatic sip of the soda, giving him a mock-thoughtful look. “Hmm. Nope. Tastes like regular soda to me. Guess your magic didn’t work.”

He gasped, clutching at his chest like you’d just delivered a fatal blow. “Babe, how could you? My love isn’t regular! Take it back!”

“Nope.” You smirked, leaning back against the pillows, savoring your tiny victory.

Shidou, of course, couldn’t let that slide. He dove forward, tackling you onto the mattress with a laugh. “Oh, you’re asking for it now!” he declared, tickling your sides until you were squirming and crying with laughter.

“Okay, okay!” you wheezed between giggles. “Your love isn’t regular! It’s… it’s premium or whatever! Stop- you'll spill the food hah!”

“Damn right it is.” He stopped his assault, grinning triumphantly as he flopped down beside you and picked up the tray, only to set it aside on the nightstand. He turned back to you and pulled you close, his arm slung around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

For a few moments, everything stilled. You rested your head against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat steady and comforting. He glanced down at you, his earlier playfulness softening into something gentler.

“Y’know,” he murmured, brushing a stray hair from your face, “you’re kind of my favourite person. Thanks for putting up with my crap.”

You looked up at him, your heart-warming at the sincerity in his voice. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Ryusei,” you teased, poking his cheek.

He laughed, the sound loud and unrestrained, just like him. “Lucky? Babe, I’m blessed. I’ve got you.”

And as much as you wanted to roll your eyes at his cockiness, you couldn’t help but smile. Shidou Ryusei might be a lot of things—Erratic, devious, and downright ridiculous—but moments like this reminded you why you wouldn’t have him any other way.

#🌟 writes #blue lock #bllk #x reader #fluff #shidou ryuusei #shidou ryuusei x reader #shidou ryusei #bllk shidou #blue lock shidou

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ozai-the-bonsai · 2 days ago

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The Last Goodbye

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x sister!reader

Summary: Daemon is getting ready to fly to Harrenhal to meet his fate above the Gods Eye and it kills you to send him off to his death. You share your last goodbyes before Daemon departs, which leaves you seeking for revenge.

A/N: I dreamt some part of this a few nights ago (the readers dream at the beginning is 1:1 with my dream :3) and I knew I had to write it as soon as possible! Unlike my typical Daemon works, this one-shot is all about an emotional last scene between the reader and Daemon. Enjoy!

Warnings: strong language, targcest

“Where is Daemon?”

The disgusting smirk on your nephew's face, Aegon, only served to heighten your unease. Your tone turned sharp, bordering on a threat. "I asked you a question, Aegon."

Aegon raised an eyebrow at your direction as he made himself comfortable on his chair, pouring himself some wine. “Mind your tone, Aunt – this is not how you talk to your king.”

You had never been a patient woman; however, with Aegon, your patience was practically non-existent. “I have no king, you fucking idiot.” You hissed between your gritted teeth and in a moment of blind rage, you found your hands holding Aegon from his collar. “Need I repeat myself?” Your voice was loud.

However, instead of fear in his eyes, all you could see was Aegon snickering as he looked somewhere over your shoulder. Quickly, you let him go and turned around – only to see Aemond mounting Vhagar. At that moment, it all hit you.

“No…” You muttered as you pushed Aegon away and ran to the stairs. “DAEMON, WHERE ARE YOU?”

You weren’t quite sure what scared you more – the way you woke up screaming, the nightmare itself, or the loud clang coming from the other end of the chambers.

“Fuck,” Daemon cursed as he bent down to pick up the piece of armour from the ground, which was apparently responsible for the noise. “That was some fucking loud scream.”

Holding the armour piece in his hands, your brother walked towards your bed, sitting at your feet as you tried to steady your breathing. “Bad dream?” He asked with a soft voice as he placed the piece on his lap and held your hand. You nodded.

“I thought I lost you, you were going…” While your eyes wandered around the room, you could put the pieces together and the moment you understood what Daemon was up to, the very same feeling from your nightmare returned. “What… are you doing?”

Daemon leant in to place a small kiss on top of your head. “You should go back to sleep…” But before his lips could land on you, you interrupted him by pushing him away harshly to stand up, the last bits of sleep hanging onto your lashes were long gone. Heaving a sigh, Daemon stood up as well. “You really want to do it this way, dear sister, don’t you?”

Again, patience had never been your best practice and Daemon… Well, let’s say that Daemon could easily compete with Aegon when it came to toying with your patience.

The only difference was that you had never fucked Aegon – even the mere idea of the act with your nephew was disgusting – but Daemon you had been fucking ever since you were a young woman.

“You were going to fuck off before saying goodbye to me!” Your voice thundered inside your chambers, catching Daemon off-guard, causing him to slightly flinch. “The last goodbye – am I not worth it? After all these years, after everything we have been through…”

Your brother stood up after leaving the piece of armour on the bed. “You are but so eager to see me dead, mandia,” his words brushed against your cheeks as he took you into his arms, his frame towering over yours. “I will kill the hoary old bitch and her one-eyed cunt of a rider, and be back before sunrise – you wouldn’t have realised my absence.” [mandia = sister]

“Daemon, please,” your voice was lower this time, the rage leaving its place to fear, tears forming on your eyes. “Don’t do this. Don’t leave me.” The lump in your throat was getting larger with each word, making it impossible to breathe. “You know you won’t make it out alive – Vhagar is too strong for you to take her out alone.”

Daemon cupped your face, wiping way the tears rolling down your cheek. “Have faith in me, love,” he spoke in the language of your people. He knew his words had a stronger effect on you whenever he spoke in High Valyrian, perhaps you found it more personal or felt yourself even closer to him – you didn’t really know. “Tonight, I will end this war. Tomorrow, I will give our niece her crown and then, I am all yours. Until my last breath.”

A sob escaped your lips, knowing very well that this was Daemon’s last goodbye. You both knew he was not coming back once he mounted Caraxes – though he would never admit it. Not to you, to his dear sister.

“Take me with you,” the words left your lips without even thinking. “Aemond will not be anticipating Nerathos accompanying Caraxes to Harrenhal.”

Shaking his head, Daemon placed his left hand on your belly. “I cannot lose you both, my love.” He whispered. The way his lower lip trembled as he gave voice to his deepest fear – before you knew it, you burst into tears, sobbing violently as you fell onto your knees.

“Daemon, please,” your voice was weak when you spoke. Pushing away the strands of silver hair falling in front of your eyes, you looked up to meet Daemon’s gaze, your purple eyes shining with tears. “I am begging you. Don’t leave us.”

With a bittersweet smile on his lips, Daemon helped you getting back on your feet. It was easy to see how hard he was trying to keep his emotions under control for he knew once he allowed himself to break, he would not be able to leave you behind.

He pulled you into his arms, his face buried in your silver hair. “There is no other way,” he whispered as he inhaled your scent deeply. “I love you, more than anything.”

Your sobs were silenced by Daemon’s lips, pressed firmly against yours. The kiss was full of passion, love and sorrow – you poured all the heavy feelings you carried in your heart into that last kiss, everything you had said and you never got to say. As Daemon’s tongue slid into your mouth and his grip on your waist tightened, you could still taste the salt from the tears – though you did not know whose tears they were anymore.

Time froze around the two of you as you melted into the kiss one last time. Daemon held you so tight as if he was afraid someone could come and snatch you away from him any moment, as if he was afraid to lose you. Your hands wrapped around his neck got tangled in his silver hair.

The moment Daemon broke the kiss, you knew you had to say goodbye to him in a few moments. He pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “Wait for me, dear sister,” he spoke against your lips, “I will be back before sunrise.”

Even you yourself do not believe these words, love.

However, instead of arguing further, you forced a smile onto your lips as you nodded, tears still rolling down your cheeks. “Don’t you dare make me wait, lēkia.” As Daemon was about to take the last piece of his armour lying on the bed, you held him from his wrist, causing him to look at you. “Daemon,” you breathed out his name. “I love you, too. I will always love you.” [lēkia = brother]

You did not know how long you sat on your bed, crying, after Daemon left for Harrenhal. It was impossible to control your body which was constantly shaking – the mixed feelings of intense sorrow, the-soon-to-come grief and immense degrees of rage against the Greens had completely taken over the control.

After an hour of anxious waiting and sobbing, your body stopped shaking with the idea that came to your mind. You knew it was risky and you knew the Queen would probably not like you going rogue but at that moment, none of this mattered. Your blood boiled with the desire for revenge. And you knew exactly how you could take it.

It didn’t take long for you to change into your riding armour and mount your dragon Nerathos. As you flew over King’s Landing, Daemon’s voice still echoed in your ears, telling you to protect the baby. It was reckless, what you were about to do, you knew that quite well. You could lose your baby if anything went wrong, or you could follow the same path your brother had; however, in that moment, you were blinded by rage.

I will not let Daemon die for nothing! Eye for an eye – brother for a brother!

The flight to Dragonstone wasn’t long, before you knew it, Nerathos was getting ready to descend.

Considering it was the hour of the wolf, you did not expect to see anyone outside the castle. As you were planning how to bring down the walls on Aegon’s fucking head to crush the crippled cunt inside, your purple eyes shone for you had seen the said cripple outside the castle – only accompanied by a handful of guards.

You could tell he was anxiously waiting to hear from Harrenhal.

However, the only thing he heard was the flapping of Nerathos’ wings.

“DRAGON!” You heard someone shout from below as your dragon made a quick dive. The guards were trying to take Aegon to safety quickly but they could not match the pace of a dragon. As Nerathos landed in front of them, the guards created a wall in front of the usurper, pointing their swords at the dragon.

Nerathos roared, cutting through the night like a blade.

“Nerathos,” you spoke with determination inside your eyes. “Dracarys!”

#daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fic #hodt #hodt fic #matt smith #game of thrones

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just-dreaming-marvel · 4 hours ago

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Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 41

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 3,165ish

Summary: You and Logan try to mend your relationship.

Notes: Officially starting the Logan movie scenes!

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

“The adamantium is poisoning me,” Logan admitted as he held you tightly against him. The two of you were cuddled up in your bed, cleaned up, and clothed after the make-up sex the two of you shared.

“What?” You moved to sit up slightly, looking down at his face.

“My adamantium skeleton is what’s killing me.”

“And it’s causing you pain?”

“Yes.”

“And your healing abilities, they’ve—“

“They’re still there, just much slower and leaving scars.”

“Like mine.”

“I think yours are better at this point, sweetheart.” You closed your eyes as you tried not to cry. Logan’s hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing up against your skin. “Don’t cry, honey. You know I can’t stand that.”

“There has to be something someone can do—that I can do— to help you.”

“There’s nothing, baby.”

“Where does it hurt right now?”

“Sweetheart—“

“Tell me.”

Logan sighed. “My wrists.”

You took the hand he had on your cheek and kissed the inside of his wrist before grabbing his other hand and doing the same thing. “Where else?”

“My shoulders.”

Logan’s shoulders were easy to access since he was wearing one of his white tank tops. You pressed kisses around his shoulder closest to you before moving to the next one. Then you warmed up your hands, not too much to burn him, and placed a hand on each of his shoulders. Logan let a relieved moan slip from his lips as he closed his eyes. You pressed a kiss to his bearded jaw as you continued to try to ease some of his pain like you were his personal heating pad.

“Stop,” he eventually groaned.

You quickly removed your hands and sat up. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, no,” his hands ran down your arms, “never. It’s just… I’m supposed to be making amends. You shouldn’t be taking care of me like this.”

“James.” You shot him a brief glare. “This is you making amends by letting me take care of you.”

“But I need to be taking care of you like I’ve failed to do.”

“You are. This bed. Me staying here. How hard you are constantly working. You are taking care of me. But you need to let me take care of you, too.” You ran a hand through his hair, beginning to warmly massage his scalp. “No more sleeping alone. No more secrets, even if you’re trying to protect me.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

You sighed. “I hate it when you say that.” You moved to straddle Logan, careful not to put too much weight on his body. His hands held your hips as your hands came up to his face. “You deserve good things, Logan. You are not a bad person or an animal.”

“I—“

You placed a hand over his mouth. “No. You are good. You deserve good. You deserve me.” You began tearing up, hating when Logan got this way. You just wanted him to believe you. “I love you, James.”

“I know, I know,” he reached up and cupped your face, thumbs wiping the stray tears. “I’m sorry. I love you, too, sweetheart.”

“Tell me.”

“What?”

“Tell me what you deserve. You need to start believing it.”

Logan sighed. “I am good… I deserve good… I deserve you.” He pulled you down and kissed you softly. “Thank you.”

~~~

Logan and you went down for breakfast together, holding hands. Caliban was already in the kitchen, readying some food.

“Not that I’m unhappy the two of you have made up,” Caliban started, “but next time, I would appreciate it if you weren’t so loud.”

“Thought you were out in the tank,” Logan grumbled.

“I was.”

“Then wear some earplugs next time.”

“Be nice,” you chided, patting Logan’s arm. “Sorry, Caliban.”

“Thank you,” Caliban responded. “Breakfast is free game. I’m going to eat with Charles. Give you two some more time alone.”

“Thanks.” You elbowed Logan as he reached for a pancake.

“Ow,” he grunted, looking at you with a confused expression. “What?”

“Say thank you.”

Logan sighed, “Thank you.”

Caliban took the tray as he shook his head, and headed out to Charles. Logan wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into his side before kissing your head.

“Got to work today,” he said.

You rested your head on him and sighed. “Okay… I’ll miss you.”

“Good,” he smirked. “I’ll be late because I have to pick up Charles’ meds.”

“If I give you a list, can you run to the store for groceries?”

“Sure.”

~~~

“I love you,” Logan whispered against your lips before stealing a kiss.

“I love you, too,” you replied. “Be safe. I’ll have dinner ready for you whenever you get home.”

“You don’t need to wait up.”

“But I want to… I don’t sleep well without you.”

“Try for me, sweetheart. I’ll wake you up when I get home.” He pressed another kiss to your lips. “I promise.”

“If you don’t, I’ll burn you to a crisp.”

Logan chuckled. “I don’t doubt it, honey.”

He kissed your forehead before walking to the limo. You leaned against the doorway, wrapped up in one of his flannels, and watched him drive away. You hated how far away Logan had to drive for work, but you understood why he needed to keep Charles away from others.

~~~

Logan was exhausted. It was well past midnight as he pulled up to the smelting plant. He was later than he had hoped, but he had to argue to get Charles’ meds. Limping into the plant with arms full of groceries, Logan tried to be as quiet as possible. The small TV was playing quietly in the makeshift living room, providing the only light. The changing scenes increased the light on your sleeping figure on the couch.

Logan smiled softly, shaking his head. He made quick work of putting the groceries away and getting Charles’ meds ready for the next day before he carefully came over to you. He crotched down beside the couch to get a good look at your relaxed features.

“I missed this,” he whispered, mostly to himself. “I missed coming home to you.”

Biting down a groan, Logan swept you into his arms and headed up the stairs to your room. It wasn’t until he set you down in your bed that you started to wake.

“Logan?” You whimpered as he pulled away.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Go back to sleep,” he whispered. “I’m gonna clean up and be right back.”

“Okay…”

As quickly as Logan’s failing body allowed him to, he had showered and changed before coming back to you. You were back asleep. He carefully picked you back up and laid down before placing you on top of him. It wasn’t easy on Logan’s joints to sleep with you on top of him, and he knew there would be long-term effects if he continued, but he had to. Sleeping without you anymore wasn’t an option for either of you. Maybe he could scrape enough money for a larger bed. Perhaps for your birthday. But you would hate him for spending money on you like that. You deserved it, though; you deserved a life much better than this. A life that you two once shared.

~~~

The months following were not easy, and you and Logan still struggled, but it was better. The two of you would fight but quickly work it out. There was no going to be angry.

Charles was gradually getting worse. Logan would still only allow you to visit Charles when he was there. It was frustrating, but when you experienced each of his seizures, you understood more and more.

You noticed that Logan was getting worse, too. It was heartbreaking to see the man you love struggling, and you couldn’t do much about it.

One day, you noticed that Logan had reading glasses in his pocket. You kept an eye on him, seeing if he would ever use them, though you knew he needed to. It was a few days later when you caught him trying to read a newspaper without them. He kept grunting as he squinted his eyes and moved the paper back and forth. You sighed, shaking your head at his stubbornness. You went and took the glasses from his jacket pocket. Quietly, you came up behind him and leaned over, slipping the glasses onto his face.

“Hey!” He protested.

“Use them,” you told him, pressing a kiss to his head.

“Don’t need them.”

You laughed. “Yes, you do.”

“Don’t you think they make me look… ancient?”

You sat down in the chair next to Logan and guided his head to look at you. “I think they’re sexy.”

Logan scoffed. “Sexy? Really?”

“Honey, anything that helps you is sexy to me.” You leaned forward and pecked his lips. “Use them. Stop being stubborn.”

“As you wish, sweetheart.”

~~~

Months later, you noticed Logan struggling more and more. He had a bigger limp and a cough now. His hair was grayer and there were more wrinkles. But he was still your Logan, your love.

“It’s nice to see you and Logan back together,” Charles said as you brought him his breakfast one morning, “where you belong.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I just wish I could do more to help ease his pain.”

“You’re doing enough, my dear. You’re doing enough to ease all of our pains.”

You kissed the top of Charles’ head. “I’ve got to go before Logan drags me out of here.”

“Maybe one day you can stay longer.”

“Maybe… See you later, Charles.”

Logan was waiting for you outside the tank, ready to go to work. “How is he today?” He asked, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you into him.

“Sort of there.”

“And how are you?”

“Tired.”

“Get some rest today, then, baby.”

“Can’t you just stay home today?”

“Can’t. We need the money.”

“Yeah…” you nodded, looking down.

“Hey,” Logan’s fingers hooked under your chin and gently pushed your face up. “What else is going on?”

“I just… I’m worried… Something is coming. I—I can feel it.”

“You’re safe.”

“Maybe I’m not. Maybe we’re all not safe.”

Logan sighed, glancing at the time on his watch. “I’ve got to go, but we’ll talk more about this when I come home.” He softly kissed you. “I love you, darlin’.”

“Love you, too.”

~~~

Logan knew he should have gone home, but he was tired and needed a few more jobs tonight. He decided to get some alcohol and take a nap in the back of the limo. He woke up to a group of men trying to steal the limo’s tires. Logan was forced to fight them off with his claws, getting shot multiple times.

After killing three of them, the rest drove off. Logan got back into the limo and drove to a nearby gas station. He was thankful that he kept extra clothes in the trunk, just in case. Leaning over the sink, Logan grunted and groaned as the blood hit the porcelain and the bullets slowly and painfully forced their way out of him.

Logan thought of you as he stood there. He knew that you would want to know what happened, but he was scared too worry you too much. He knew you already were worried. But, needing to hear your voice as he cleaned up, he called you.

“Hello?” Your sleepy voice filled the bloody gas station bathroom.

“Hey, baby,” Logan breathed out, trying to keep the pain from you.

“What’s wrong? Wait— Logan, it’s late. Why aren’t you home?”

“Just needed to pick up a few more jobs tonight.”

“Okay… but why does it sound like you’re in pain?”

Logan sighed. He should have known better than trying to hide this from you. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Just had to fight off some thieves.”

“Logan—“

“Needed to hear your voice.”

“Then come home. Rest. We can worry about money in the morning. Let me take care of you.”

“I’m fine, darlin’. I’ll be home in the morning.”

“Logan—“

“Sorry for waking you up. Go back to sleep. Love you.”

He hung up before you could get another word in.

~~~

Logan picked up three more jobs. One was a morning funeral, where he had been recognized as the Wolverine by a woman who insisted she needed his help. After avoiding her, Logan went to the hospital and grabbed the needed drugs for Charles.

He got into his limo, only for a man to enter through the back. Logan turned around, ready to yell at the man.

“As I live and breathe, the Wolverine,” the man commented. “And he’s a junkie now.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Logan asked.

“You know, you got some buckshot in your door. I heard you was in Phoenix. But then, last night, some friends of mine in Texas HP called and told me they found three dead cholos in a pullout on 54. Not unusual, I know. Except one was missing a hand, another one a leg. So they was thinking it was either an escaped tiger or Freddy Krueger. But neither one of them can drive, one being fictional, the other one extinct. And since the wheel lugs they found belonged to a ’24 Chrysler and, well, this is a ’24 Chrysler… She found you yet?”

“Who?”

“Well, I guess there’s two of them… your girl and Gabriela.” Logan tensed at the mention of you. “Y/N’s been off our radar for a while now, but we know it’s only a matter of time before she finds you. Though, she’s not our main priority. See… I’m not looking for you, Wolvie, or your girl—well, anymore. I’m looking for someone who’s looking for you. She took something of mine when I wasn’t looking. Something for which I am responsible. Mexican lady. Has her sights on you now. Doesn’t ring any bells?”

“I don’t know any Gabriela, so get the fuck out of my car.”

“Oh. You know…” The man moved closer. “I know what you’re hiding, amigo. The old cue ball south of the border.”

“What do you want?”

“A little cooperation.” He handed Logan a business card. Logan made no move to grab it, forcing the man to toss it at him. “I’m a fan, by the way.”

The man left the car, and Logan picked up the business card. The business name was eerily familiar: Alkali Transigen. The man’s name was Donald Pierce, and he was apparently head of security. Logan’s stomach dropped, knowing that this wasn’t a good thing.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Fuck!”

~~~

Logan didn’t return home the next morning, nor did he return your calls. You were growing concerned.

“We’re out of meds,” Caliban told you after he brought Charles lunch. “Logan was supposed to be back with them. He’s not having a good day.”

“Something’s wrong,” you said. “He won’t answer my calls either.”

You tried to get your mind off of everything by doing the laundry. Only, you found an adamantium bullet in Logan’s pocket. That broke your heart and made you angry at the same time.

You walked out of the plant and began pacing, feeling your skin heat up. If Logan didn’t return soon, you would have to find a way to get Charles’ meds without a vehicle. You would also need to find out where Logan went and confront him about the bullet. The familiar sound of the limo and the gate opening caught your attention. Logan pulled up, and you bulleted to the limo, launching yourself at Logan before he could fully stand up.

“Hey,” Logan coughed as you gripped him tightly. “What’s going—“

“You don’t get to do that!” You shouted, pulling back and shoving him against the limo. “You don’t get to call when things aren’t okay and then drop off the face of the earth!”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I… I’ve been working.”

“You still had time to call me back. Even just to say that you were still alive! You’re so frustrating, you know?”

“Honey—“

“And this!” You pulled out the adamantium bullet. “Found this while doing the laundry. Are you planning on blowing your brains out? At one point, only your memory would die with this, but now… this could actually kill you, Logan! Why the hell wouldn’t you tell me that this was your plan? What happened to not leaving me?”

“I don’t really have a choice, sweetheart. I’m dying.”

“But you’re not even fighting to stay anymore! I thought… I thought that I mattered to you.”

“You are everything to me, baby. But this is something neither of us can fight.”

“Just… go. Go inside. Charles needs his meds. He had a seizure this morning… And I need to cool down.”

“Y/N…”

But you walked off faster than he could catch up to you.

~~~

When you finally decided to go inside, you found Logan in his room. The door was cracked open, allowing you to lean against the doorframe and peek in. Logan was sitting on the edge of his bed. He had a variety of alcohol in front of him with one of the bottles opened. His right hand had his claws out, only they weren’t all the way out. They were stuck. He was grunting in pain as he pulled at one of the stuck claws, trying to get it out.

You quickly entered and knelt in front of him. Glancing up at him, you could tell that he was ashamed. You took his hand from his claw and set it to the side before taking the hand with his claws out. Warming up your hands, you carefully used them to try to ease the pain.

“You don’t have to do this, sweetheart,” Logan grumbled. “I can take care of myself.”

“Clearly, you can’t,” you responded.

As you took care of his hand, the stuck claws slowly pushed out to their normal length. You carefully kissed the tip of each of them before kissing Logan’s knuckles, noticing the puss now oozing from where the claws were pushing out. Both of his hands were now trembling, making your heart break further for him.

“I don’t want you to remember me like this,” he quietly admitted, a tear rolling down his cheek. “Weak… pathetic…”

“You are neither of those things, Logan,” you told him. You cupped his face as you stayed knelt between his legs.

“I should have told you about the bullet.”

“You should have.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“And I’ll call you back next time.”

“You better.”

Logan sighed, feeling the pain settle in him. “Can we lie down in your bed?”

Without a verbal response, you stood up and took Logan’s hands. You guided him over to your room and allowed him to lie down first. You warmed your body up as you moved yourself behind him, spooning him. He sighed, relaxing into you.

“Relax, honey,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his neck. “I’ve got you.”

next chapter >

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levi-4uckerman · 3 days ago

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satoru gojo x reader // like ghosts in the snow // chapter three

Words: 4.7k ♥ the one where u kiss a lil bit ♥ no TWs, just cute Satoru n some light angst/comfort action Previous chapter :33

╰┈➤This is a Flashback Chapter, but i promise i kept it relevant! no world building or unnecessary characters, just good old fashioned bonding :))

✎ reminder that reader has been given the default name 'shiori myoji'!. you have a clairvoyance technique and a two-year old gojo >;3 enjoy!!

...

Tokyo, Japan / January 2015 (see timeline here)

You saw more of Satoru after the ceremony. He’d find you when you were visiting campus grounds, sometimes bump into you on your way into meetings with the Jujutsu council. It made you a little nervous, knowing that he likely wasn’t finding you by accident, but it wasn’t until he’d somehow gotten ahold of your phone number that you started getting really annoyed.

“You’d better be dying,” you rasped, your voice heavy with sleep. It was nearly midnight, and Satoru had called you three times. You only picked up on the third because you were certain it was an emergency— which it was not.

“Nah,” he replied coolly. “Just lonely. Whatcha doin’?”

“Gojo, it’s nearly midnight. I’m sleeping.”

“It’s Satoru off-the-clock, babe,” you could practically hear the smirk in his voice, cringing as you listened to him go on. “Besides, it’s Friday night. Why are you going to bed at old man hours?”

“I have a migraine,” you grumbled. “Don’t you know about those?”

“Of course, I know about migraines,” he replied, his tone shifting slightly as if offended. “I just don’t let them stop me from living my life.”

You groaned, rubbing your temple. “Living your life? You’re calling me at midnight to bother me. How’s that for living?”

“Aw, come on, Shi-chan,” he teased, and you could almost see him leaning back with that stupid grin on his face. “You can’t tell me you don’t secretly look forward to my calls.”

“Gojo—”

“Satoru,” he corrected smoothly.

“Satoru,” you seethed through gritted teeth, “if you don’t give me a real reason for why you’re calling, I’m hanging up.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, just long enough for you to wonder if he took you seriously, but then he exhaled dramatically.

“Alright, alright,” he relented. “You caught me. I wanted to see if you’d come out for food.”

You stared at the ceiling, dumbfounded. “You called me three times in the middle of the night for food?”

“Well, yeah,” he said, as if it were obvious. “You’ve barely eaten today! Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

Your silence must have given you away because he chuckled softly. “You’re predictable, Shi-chan. Always working yourself to death, skipping meals like they’re optional. I’m just doing my civic duty as a fellow sorcerer to keep you alive.”

You rolled your eyes, even though you knew he couldn’t see the gesture. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably thoughtful,” he corrected. “So? What do you say? Midnight ramen? My treat.”

“It had better be,” you shot back. “You’re loaded.”

“Okay, fine,” he replied casually. “I’ll throw in dessert. Come on, it’ll help with the headache. Trust me.”

You sighed, debating whether you had the energy to argue. Honestly, the thought of food was tempting, especially since you had skipped dinner.

“Fine,” you relented, tossing your blanket aside. “But only if you promise not to talk the entire time.”

“No can do,” he said, and you could hear the grin in his voice. “But I’ll promise to be entertaining.”

“Debatable,” you muttered.

Thirty minutes later, you found yourself sitting across from Satoru in a nearly empty ramen shop, wondering how you had allowed yourself to be dragged out of bed for this.

“So,” he grinned at you, twirling his chopsticks expertly. “How’s the migraine?”

You shot him a flat look. “Still there. You’re not helping.”

He laughed, leaning forward on his elbows. “You’ll thank me later when you’re full of delicious ramen and no longer grumpy.”

You huffed but took a sip of broth anyway, the warmth soothing your headache more than you wanted to admit. “This doesn’t mean I’m going to make a habit of this, you know.”

“Of course not,” he asserted, though the mischievous glint in his eyes told you he didn’t believe you. “But you’ll answer my calls next time, right?”

“Only if you’re dying,” you replied, slurping your noodles.

He smirked. “Guess I’ll have to get creative.”

You groaned, but deep down, you knew that you would answer.

And so it began. Your evening outings with Satoru became more frequent, to the point that he’d started to skip the courtesy call. Satoru would knock, and you’d already be dressed, ready to partake in whatever late-night cravings he had in mind. You told yourself it was just for the free meal, a convenient distraction, but that excuse felt thinner every time you walked out the door with him.

You found yourself lingering on the way he leaned back in his seat, one arm slung casually over the backrest as he told an outrageous story about his students. Or the way his face lit up whenever he convinced you to try something new, his grin infectious enough to make you laugh even when you weren’t planning to.

You liked him. Just a little. Enough that you didn’t mind his teasing quite so much anymore, or the way he always made it a point to walk you back home, even when you insisted that you didn’t need an escort.

One evening, Satoru had something different in mind when he showed up unannounced. His bandages were pushed up into his hair, leaving his eyes bare, and he looked… excited. More so than usual.

“What is it?” you asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“Put your shoes on, Shi-chan,” he instructed, waving a hand like he was summoning you. “We’re going out.”

You groaned, crossing your arms. “What are you dragging me into now?”

“Dessert,” he said simply, as if that explained everything.

“Dessert?”

“Not just any dessert,” he clarified, his grin widening. “The best parfaits in the city. Trust me, you’re gonna love it.”

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Is this just an excuse to feed your sugar addiction?”

“Maybe,” he admitted with a shrug. “But I’m not going alone, so get moving.”

With a sigh, you grabbed your coat and followed him out the door, trying to ignore the way your stomach turned when he held the door open for you, smiling expectantly.

The parfait shop was small and tucked away into a quiet alley, lit by warm, glowing lanterns. The moment you stepped inside, the air was filled with the sweet aroma of fresh fruit, whipped cream, and caramel. You couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped you.

Satoru led the way to a booth in the corner, practically bouncing in his seat as he opened the menu. “Look at this,” he enthused, pointing to an elaborate parfait topped with layers of strawberries, matcha ice cream, and tiny macarons. “This one’s calling out to me.”

“That’s enough sugar for three of you,” you muttered, scanning the menu.

“What are you getting?” he asked, leaning over the table. “Ooh, you should try the mango one. Or the chocolate banana. Or the—”

“I can read, Satoru,” you said, cutting him off with a small, reluctant smile. “And I can decide for myself.”

When the parfaits arrived, they were too pretty to eat— almost. Satoru wasted no time digging into his strawberry concoction, humming in satisfaction after the first bite.

“This is the one,” he outright moaned, pointing his spoon at you. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t deny how good the sweetness in front of you looked. You took a tentative bite of the chocolate banana parfait, and the immediate burst of flavor was enough to make you pause.

“See?” Satoru smirked as he watched your reaction. “Told you.”

On the walk back to your apartment, Satoru insisted on a detour to a nearby taiyaki stand—because, as he so eloquently put it, his daily sugar quota hadn’t been met, parfait notwithstanding. He carried the box of warm, fish-shaped pastries under his arm as you strolled through the quiet streets of suburban Tokyo. His voice filled the air, rambling about something inconsequential, his excitement infectious in the way that only Satoru Gojo could manage.

The gears in your mind turned over as you listened. This felt so familiar, like something you’d watched from a distance long ago. Him, lighting up at the simplest joys. The image of Satoru as a budding adult, walking alongside Suguru Geto, slipped into your mind unbidden. You’d seen him like this before—his shoulders relaxed, his grin easy, his words tumbling out with the same unguarded enthusiasm. Back then, it had been Suguru who tempered his boundless energy, who grounded him just enough to remind him that he was human.

The thought sent an ache through your chest. This wasn’t just nostalgia; it was Satoru searching for something, someone, to make him feel anchored again. Someone to remind him that he wasn’t untouchable. That he wasn’t just the Six Eyes, the strongest sorcerer, but Satoru—flawed, messy, and still yearning for the companionship that had once made him whole. But could that really be you?

And did you want it to be?

When you looked up again, your building was quickly approaching.

“Thanks for coming out,” he said casually, glancing over at you.

“Didn’t have much of a choice,” you replied, but your tone lacked its usual bite.

He smirked. “You say that, but I think you’ve been enjoying our little outings.”

You didn’t respond right away, your eyes focused on the ground again. The truth was, he wasn’t really wrong. You were starting to look forward to these moments—more than you wanted to admit.

“Maybe,” you said softly, and your honesty caught even you by surprise.

Satoru’s smirk faltered for a split second, replaced by something warmer. “I knew it,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.

When you reached your door, he handed you the box of taiyaki. “Here,” he said. “In case you get hungry later.”

“Thanks,” you muttered, taking the box from him. He opened his mouth, and you just knew he was going to say goodbye, so you beat him to it.

“Satoru,” you declared suddenly, a sour feeling gnawing at you from inside. There was something… something you needed to ask. Something you needed clarity on.

He closed his mouth for once, his gaze meeting yours. His eyes were uncovered. Expectant. Like he was waiting on something, too.

“What are we doing?” You spit out, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. “I’m not… do you want something from me?”

“What do you mean, Shi-chan?” He asked, his words light but careful. His eyes were scrutinizing. “I wanted dessert. You came with me. Easy enough, right?”

Not convinced, you shook your head. You stepped closer to him, the sour feeling inside you intensifying. “No, it’s not just that. It’s the phone calls, the showing up unannounced, the--,” you gestured around vaguely with your hand. “This. All of this. What is it?”

He blinked, clearly caught off guard. For once, he didn’t seem to have a quip ready. His silence was as unnerving as it was unexpected, but you pressed on.

“I’m not dumb, Satoru,” You continued. “You don’t just... call people for no reason. You don’t go out of your way--,” you shook the taiyaki box for emphasis, “--for just anyone. So, what is it? Why me?”

Satoru’s jaw ticked almost imperceptibly. The weight of your words hung heavy in the air between you. Satoru ran a hand through is hair, letting out a breath that sounded far too serious for someone like him.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. His voice was uncharacteristically soft. “I think I just... like being around you. Reminds me of simpler times.”

Those words stuck out to you. Simpler times. Because nothing was ever simple with Satoru Gojo.

And yet, as much as you wanted to laugh, to not believe him, you couldn’t. Your breath hitched, and you didn’t respond. Your thoughts flashed back to high school, seeing him and Suguru slinking around campus late at night. How sometimes they’d pass by your dorms, voices hushed but still loud enough to wake you from sleep. Laughing, like they’d just come back from a party and not a first-grade mission.

“I guess that’s allowed,” you finally muttered after a beat, averting your gaze to the ground. You were blushing fiercely, embarrassed with the assumptions you’d made about an old friend. Maybe he really is just... lonely.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and looked up to see him a few paces closer than he was before. His lazy grin was back, but there was still sincerity written across his features. “Goodnight, Shi-chan. I’ll see you around?”

“Night, Satoru,” You replied with a nod, hating the disappointment you felt when he withdrew. You watched him turn and walk away.

When the door closed behind him, you stood in place. Staring at the polished wood. Chewing your bottom lip.

“What the fuck?” you breathed, wondering if this was becoming something dangerous. For both of you.

You saw less of your six-eyed friend after that conversation. In a cruel twist of fate, the steady rhythm of a budding friendship started to falter as work piled up, missions became more frequent, life happened. The late-night knocks at your door stopped, his texts became sporadic, and a familiar hollowness began to take the place of Satoru’s easygoing, persistent presence.

You told yourself that it didn’t matter, that it was for the best. Sorcerers shouldn’t have distractions, right? Especially ones of your respective statures. Alas, it was hard to ignore the ache of his absence… like a thread constantly pulling at the edges of your thoughts. As much as you wanted to banish it from your mind, it always felt like… something was missing. Something with white hair and blue eyes.

Council meetings kept you busy, the higher ups’ usage of your technique was at an all-time high. Your headaches were constant, the need for a break starting to get desperate. One afternoon after one such meeting, you were merely passing through the Tokyo campus when you started hearing things.

The rumors started small, whispered between both staff and students. Murmured in passing, not even bothering to lower their voices when you approached—because why would they? No one knew about your friendship with Gojo, and the way it fizzled out into nothing. All the same, your chest ached to hear that he wasn’t just busy with work, he was… dating someone. Courting with the intention to marry, even, according to several sources on campus.

Not that you had asked them directly.

You knew that the clan was always pushing him to marry, to find a powerful sorceress from a prestigious line of her own, to produce an heir. The idea of him bending to their will—especially when it came to something as archaic as choosing a wife—was laughable. At first.

Eventually, the whispers changed.

You heard about a woman that he was seeing. A young, beautiful sorceress who had been sighted spending time with him. Casual strolls in the city, dinners at fancy restaurants—all of the things you’d expect of a young clan-head seeking out a potential spouse. You heard that she was from a respected lineage, someone that the greater Gojo clan approved of. Someone they saw as worthy of his name.

You heard that she kind of looked like you.

And again, you told yourself that it didn’t matter. You didn’t care.

But it wouldn’t hurt so bad if that were the truth, would it?

Their words lingered in your mind long after you overheard them.

The image of a woman who looked a little too much like you, walking beside him, laughing at his jokes. A part of you wondered if it was intentional, or if it was some cruel trick of the universe.

So when you heard the knock on your door one unassuming evening, your stomach twisted into a knot. You weren’t expecting anyone, but somehow you already knew by the way goosebumps sprouted against your flesh, and the beating of your heart sped up.

And when you opened the door, there he was.

Satoru Gojo stood on your doorstep, a lopsided grin on his face, his white hair falling messily over his forehead. He leaned casually against the doorframe, looking as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

You felt a little naked before him, standing there in your cozy pajama top and bottoms, clearly not expecting visitors. Satoru’s eyes raked over your body shamelessly, but he didn’t comment on your attire. Thankfully.

“Hey,” he said easily, as if he’d just seen you yesterday. “Thought I’d stop by. You know, see if you missed me.”

Your chest tightened, and you fought to keep your voice steady. “What are you doing here?”

He blinked, tilting his head like your question didn’t make sense. “What? I can’t visit anymore?” He stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, his hands shoved casually into his pockets. “Besides, you’ve been avoiding me, haven’t you? What’s up with that?”

You stared blankly at him, stunned by the accusation. “Avoiding you?”

“Yeah.” He gave you a pointed look, still grinning. “No texts, no calls. You ghosted me, Shi-chan. Should I be hurt?”

Your frustration boiled over. How could he stand there, acting so normal, like he hadn’t done anything wrong? Like he didn’t even realize—

“I thought you were avoiding me,” you snapped, crossing your arms.

That made him pause, his grin faltering for just a second. “Huh? Why would I do that?”

You shook your head, your emotions threatening to spill over. “Forget it.”

“No, no, wait.” He frowned now, stepping closer. “Seriously, what’s going on? Did I miss something?”

You swallowed hard, refusing to meet his gaze. “I heard things, Satoru.”

He raised an eyebrow, confused. “Things?”

“About you.” Your voice cracked despite your best effort to keep it steady. You turned your face away from them as you added, “And her.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his confusion plain on his face. Then, he let out a soft laugh, shaking his head.

“Oh, that?” he said, still chuckling. “That’s what this is about?”

Your stomach dropped at how easily he dismissed it. “What do you mean, ‘that?’”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You seriously thought I was avoiding you because of her? Come on, Shi-chan. Don’t be ridiculous.”

You clenched your fists at your sides. “Maybe it’s not ridiculous to me.”

“Shi-chan,” he insisted, his tone laced with exasperation. “She’s not my girlfriend. She’s not even someone I’d consider dating.”

“Then what—”

“She’s a pawn,” he interrupted in a serious voice. “A face to keep the clan off my back. They’ve been hounding me about marriage again, and she’s just… convenient.”

You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. “Convenient,” you repeated, your voice hollow.

“It’s not like that,” he said quickly, taking another step closer. “She knows the deal. And trust me, she is being well compensated for her time.”

“Then why didn’t you just tell me that?” you asked, your frustration bubbling over.

“Because I didn’t think it mattered,” he replied with a frown. “I didn’t think you’d care.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe.

“I don’t care,” you scowled, though the ache in your chest betrayed you. “But you can’t just show up here like this, expecting me to—”

“Clearly you do,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be so pissed off right now.”

You snapped your gaze upwards, glaring at him. “I’m not pissed off!”

“Oh, you definitely are,” he mused, a hint of his usual teasing slipping through.

“Satoru,” you hissed, your fists clenched at your sides. “Do you know how humiliating it is to hear something like that secondhand? To have people whispering about you and some perfect sorceress, and I—”

You stopped yourself, biting your tongue before you could say too much.

“And you what?” he questioned, his voice quieter now and his expression unreadable. “Go on, Shi-chan. Say it.”

You shook your head, looking away. “Forget it.”

“Not a chance,” he declared, inching into your space, his voice dropping even lower. “You’ve got something to say? Say it.”

Your chest heaved, the words clawing at your throat, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say them. Instead, you looked up at him, your anger dissolving into something more vulnerable, rawer.

“Why are you here, Satoru?” you asked finally, barely above a whisper

His gaze softened, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then, he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m here because I wanted to see you,” he said simply. “And I’m not dating anyone. If I was, you’d be the first to know.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his words. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean,” he said, his lips quirking into a small, almost hesitant smile, “that if there’s anyone I’d want to spend time with, it’s you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, the weight of his words hung heavy in the air.

Satoru shifted, scratching the back of his neck. “So, are you going to invite me in, or do I have to keep defending my non-existent girlfriend on your doorstep?”

But your mind was stuck on those words. If there’s anyone I’d want to spend time with, it’s you.

“Satoru,” you said, wishing you could wash the taste of his name out of your mouth. “You can’t say things like that to a woman. It’s… dangerous.”

Satoru blinked at you, clearly caught off guard by your response. Then, in true Gojo fashion, he tilted his head and smirked, his expression equal parts teasing and curious.

“Dangerous?” he repeated, his tone lighter now but edged with something more serious. “Why’s that?”

You swallowed hard, avoiding his gaze. “Because,” you muttered, your voice just above a whisper, “they might start thinking you mean it.”

“And what if I do?”

Your head snapped up, your eyes meeting his, wide with disbelief. “You’re not serious.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he shot back. His gaze was steady and searching.

You let out a sharp laugh, shaking your head as you stepped back. “Because you’re Satoru Gojo. You flirt with everyone. You don’t mean half the things you say.”

He frowned, his hands sliding into his pockets as he tilted his head again. “You really think that?”

You crossed your arms, trying to hold onto the wall you were so desperately trying to keep between you. “It’s not like you’ve ever given me a reason to think otherwise.”

He sighed, the weight of your words settling between you like a stone.

“Why does it bother you?” He said quietly, a pointed look on his face. “Whether I’m dating someone or not?”

You froze, the question throwing you off guard.

“I… It doesn’t,” you stammered, your heart racing. “I just don’t think it’s appropriate for you to—”

“To what?” he pressed, stepping closer. “Spend time with you? Talk to you? Care about you?”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you took a step back, your legs hitting the edge of the couch. “Satoru, don’t.” You said, your voice low. Quiet. Nervous.

“Don’t what?” he asked, his gaze fixed on you. “Don’t ask why you’ve been avoiding me? Don’t ask why it bothers you so much that someone said I might be with someone else?”

“I’m not avoiding you." Your voice was weak, your hands gripping the back of the couch for support.

He laughed then, but it was humorless, sharp. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying!” you snapped, your frustration bubbling over. “I just—”

“Just what?” he interrupted. “Just don’t care? Just don’t want to admit that maybe you feel something for me?”

Your cheeks burned, your chest heaving as you struggled to find the words to refute him.

“That’s what I thought,” he retorted, his voice almost gentle now.

“You’re insufferable,” you muttered, looking away.

“Maybe,” he said, his voice softening further. “But I’m not wrong.”

You felt his presence closer now, his warmth radiating in the small space between you. When you finally looked up, his blue eyes were piercing, unguarded in a way you’d rarely seen. His face had changed since high school. Still full of boyish charm, but… older now. Handsome. Matured. Not the teenage heartthrob of the Gojo clan that girls were clabbering over each other to flirt with.

And now, his attention was all on you.

“Satoru,” you said, your voice trembling. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from your face. His touch was featherlight, his fingers lingering for just a moment too long.

You swallowed hard, your heart thundering in your chest as his gaze dropped to your lips. “This is a bad idea,” you whispered, though your words lacked conviction.

“Probably,” he said, his lips quirking into a small, rueful smile. “But I’m full of bad ideas.”

And then he kissed you.

It was tentative at first, as though he was giving you the chance to pull away. But when you didn’t, when your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, his hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer.

The kiss deepened, the world around you fading until all you could feel was him—his warmth, his intensity, the way he seemed to pour everything he couldn’t say into the way his lips moved against yours.

When you finally broke apart, your breaths mingling in the quiet room, he rested his forehead against yours, his hand still cradling your waist.

“Shi-chan,” he murmured, his voice low and hoarse. “Tell me to stop, and I will. Just… tell me.”

You hesitated, your heart screaming one thing while your mind warned you of another. But as you looked up at him, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite name, you found that you couldn’t say the words.

Instead, you leaned into him again, sighing in relief when he didn’t pull away.

His lips met yours again, this time with more certainty, and your world tilted on its axis. Every warning your mind screamed at you—this is wrong, it will only end in heartbreak—was drowned out by the rush of blood in your ears and the sensation of his hands gripping your waist like you were the only thing tethering him to this earth.

You gasped softly against him, and the sound broke something loose in him. His grip tightened, pulling you impossibly closer, his other hand sliding to cradle the back of your neck. You felt his tongue against yours, tasted his spit as his fingers tangled in your hair. It sent a shiver down your spine that burnt away whatever resolve you had left.

You shouldn’t be doing this. You shouldn’t want this. But as his kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, as if savoring every second, all logic crumbled. There was only the searing heat of him, the way he smelled faintly of something sweet and familiar, and the feeling of his thumb brushing softly against your jaw, grounding you even as everything else spun out of control.

Every nerve in your body was alight, every ounce of restraint you thought you had vanished, replaced by the overwhelming need to stay in this moment, in this feeling, for as long as you could.

You pulled away just enough to catch your breath, your heart pounding like a drum in your ears. His eyes searched yours, wide and unguarded, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. His lips were red and slightly swollen, his chest rising and falling as if he’d just run a marathon.

“This isn’t—” you started in a breathless whisper, but the words caught in your throat when he cupped your face with both hands, his thumbs brushing against your cheekbones with a tenderness that sent another shiver through you.

“I know,” he murmured, his voice low and raw. “But… does it matter?”

Your throat tightened, the weight of his words settling over you like a blanket, heavy and warm. You didn’t know how to answer him, and maybe he didn’t expect you to.

Instead, he leaned in again, his breath ghosting over your lips, his hands steady and sure against your skin. “Tell me this isn’t right,” he whispered, almost pleading now, his voice breaking just slightly.

But you couldn’t. You didn’t.

And so you kissed him again. Because in that moment, it felt right enough.

This is Chapter 3 of a multi-chapter fic to be crossposted to AO3. Taglist below as requested. @starlightglimmersworld @mccookiemonster @leilakaro @certainduckanchor @itsbellablue-blog @shokosbunny @megumisthirdog @thegh0stwife @54fangirl @misslovingpearl @idkuluka @bitchycloudstrawberry @pinkpunkdynamite @theclassbookworm @okaywitheverything

love u guys <3 thx for reading and reblogging

#gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #smut #satoru gojo #jjk smut #comfort #light angst #fluff #domestic gojo #kinda #!!suguru mentioned!!#rb if u would get midnight ramen w gojo

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