#and you’re happy you don’t have to do it but you’re devastated something else will | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

peachesofteal · 23 days ago

Text

Fix You

John Price/female reader 11k words - AO3 - story is set in Through Me (The Flood) but is an AU and can be read as a standalone. Tags: 18+ major character death, heavy angst, loss of a loved one. Grief. Overconsumption of alcohol. Explicit sexual content. Emotional hurt/comfort. Complicated feelings. Angry sex. Caretaking. Trauma. Tenderness. Reader is a widow.

John Price knocks on your door in the late afternoon.

When the doorbell rings, you slip the baby into her bouncer and rub Orion’s hair affectionately at the table where he’s scribbling away with some crayons.

You’re not expecting anyone, but you guess it could be Cami. Though she usually just waltzes through the front door after using her key.

But it’s not.

It’s John.

You’re silent in front of him, eyes wide. He’s holding a bag, a black duffel, still dressed for work, for battle, face pinched in despair. Your heart lurches. “What is it?” He peeks over your shoulder to where the kids are, preoccupied, happy.

“Is there somewhere we can talk?”

“No,” you tell him sharply. “No, I- what is it? Where is he? How bad is it?” His eyes soften, and he whispers your name. You barely notice when he reaches over to close the front door, too busy cycling through every worse case scenario. He eyes the chairs on the porch.

“Let’s sit down.”

“No.” You’re going to be sick. “Just tell me. Say it.” There’s a long moment where your life plays out in front of you. The stretch of before, and after. John takes a deep breath.

“He’s gone.” Gone. Gone as in, missing? Gone as in, on a different mission? What does gone mean? Your confusion must be blatant, because he reaches for your shoulder. “He’s dead. I’m so sorry.” You jerk away and laugh. That’s all you can do. Laugh. Laugh at the absurdity. Simon's not dead. He can't be. That makes no sense.

“No, he’s not, he can’t be. I literally just talked to him, like three days ago. He said you guys were wrapping up, that you were done.” He shakes his head.

“I’m sorry, he’s-“

“Stop. Don’t- don’t say that. He’s coming home. You’re all supposed to be home next week, he promised, he-“ Your mind is fighting something your heart already knows. “It’s not true.”

“We ran into a situation, there was-“

“Stop!” You back away, bumping into the railing. You’re shivering, sobbing, unable to catch your breath.

“C’mon,” he says gently, trying to guide you towards the chair, but you don’t budge. You can’t. If you don’t move from this spot, you don’t have to accept it. If you don’t move from this spot, you don’t have to move forward. You don’t have to live a life without him. You don’t have to walk inside and tell your son his father is dead. Your daughter won’t have to grow up without ever knowing him.

“Please.” Your voice cracks, and you stare up at him. “Please, it’s a mistake, it must be. It has to be. He can’t- He promised, he promised.”

“I know.” You shake your head.

“Please.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry. I couldn’t save him, I-“ His voice breaks, and then you do, sobbing so loud you’re sure it can be heard over the hills. A scream is building up inside you, burning and itching to get out, and he tugs you forward, cradles a hand around the back of your head and pushes your nose to his chest.

When it finally breaks free, it echoes directly over John’s heart.

You’ll never understand how people can say funeral services are beautiful.

They’re not.

They’re agonizing. Devastating. The last screw in the finality of your new reality.

It’s only you, the kids and his team. That’s all he had.

“You’re everything mama. I love you so much.”

Orion’s barely old enough to understand. He asks when he’ll see his dad again, and your answer is traumatizing for your child, at best. Daddy’s not coming home, you tell him. Daddy’s going somewhere else now, somewhere better.

He’s dead.

You black out during the entire thing. There are words being said, by a priest, by Johnny, by John, flowers being thrown. Cami stands at your side, holding your daughter, the child who will grow up never knowing her father. Barely five months old. Occasionally you look over at her, blissfully asleep, and you feel envy. Envy of your own child, who will never know this loss. Who will never feel the pain of losing Simon Riley.

Someone asks you if you want to do the honors of dumping the first shovelful of dirt onto his coffin.

You laugh out loud.

What a ridiculous custom.

Johnny and Kyle exchange a look of concern, you ignore them. You know what they think.

“Let’s get you home.” John’s eyes linger on your face, their sapphire and gunmetal shine holding you captive for a second as you grapple with what he’s said. If you were more present, more aware in this moment, you’d probably say they were akin to the palest hydrangeas, the color of the shrubs growing in your own front yard.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, you’re not in any state at all, you’re just here, standing at the edge of the cemetery, staring at a mound of fresh dirt.

The dirt covering your husband.

Orion hugs your legs, trying to force his way between your knees. You’ve long tuned out the sound of his wails, unable to give him more, give him anything except your relentless grief.

You should be stronger, for them. Should handle this better.

There are a lot of things you should have done. Should have told him you loved him more. Should have been the one to hold his hand as he died. Should have made sure he wasn’t scared and alone at the end.

The gaping wound in your heart tears wider, and your knees buckle.

John wraps his arm around your shoulders, steadying you, shifting your weight into him, keeping you upright. Cami watches, gaze glossed over with tears, baby in her arms. Your baby. You and Simon’s baby. Orion cries louder.

“I can’t do this.” You whisper, to no one, to the wind-

But it’s John who answers. “You can.”

There are voices in the kitchen.

It’s late now, long after sunset, the day you buried your husband almost over. More and more of him slips away. You get farther and farther away from the last time you saw him, spoke to him, heard his voice with every second.

It aches, so you close your eyes instead and tuck the blanket under your chin, curled up with your nose in the couch cushion.

The kids are asleep. You’re hoping you’ll follow. Soon.

“-want us to stay?” It’s Kyle. He’s trying to keep his voice down but you’re only in the other room, on the couch, staring at the wall.

“No,” John assures him. “You guys go home. I’ll be here.”

“You sure? The kids… if she’s not feeling up to it, or needs help…” Cami’s voice is wet, still heavy with sadness.

“I’m here. I promised him.” There’s a long pause, and he clears his throat. “I’ve got her.”

You can’t dwell on them for too long, exhaustion of the day finally dragging you down, slowing your breathing and cutting off your consciousness, giving you a reprieve from the grief by sealing you away from it in your sleep.

“Mama?” Orion’s little voice calls for you in the dark, and you jerk awake. The baby is crying. Someone is knocking on the door.

“Hey little man,” your throat is raw, your voice not your own. His little eyebrows crease together.

He looks so much like him.

You glance around. You’re no longer on the couch but tucked away in bed, slippers placed neatly on the carpet, phone plugged into the charger. Odd, considering you fell asleep on the couch.

“You hungry?” He nods as you sit up and wipe the sleep from your eyes. “Alright, let’s have breakfast then. What do you think sounds good?”

“Waffles?” “Okay. Go wash up while I go get Nix.” And figure out who’s at the door.

“John.” His hands are in his pockets, beanie folded up on his forehead, and you don’t miss the way he evaluates you, crying, wriggling baby in your arms, still in your pajamas, Orion hollering about breakfast in the background.

“I wanted to come by and check on you guys.” Right. Of course. Come check on the widow. What if she can’t get herself out of bed? What if she’s too sad to take care of her kids? He grimaces and clears his throat. “You’re uh… you’re wet.” He inclines his head towards Nix, who is mouthing at your chest over your t-shirt. Shit.

“Oh, crap. Uh, come in. We were about to have breakfast. Well, not just about. Ry wanted waffles and I was about to start them,” you’re babbling down the hall, glancing at Orion in his booster seat at the counter, banging around a bowl and spoon like a little king waiting impatiently for his meal.

“’cle John!” He claps, and John smiles.

“I’ll start them for you while…” He trails off and you smile awkwardly.

“Thanks.”

Phoenix is an easy baby. She latches easily, eats easily, goes down to sleep easily. She’s a breeze compared to Orion at this age.

Small blessings, you guess.

Simon said it was you earned it, after Ry. You deserved it.

What did you do to deserve this?

“Mama sad.” Orion whispers, his mournful little voice the first thing you hear when you shuffle out of your room. Nix went down after a change and a burp. Easy.

“She misses your daddy,” John answers, “like us.”

“Yeah.” You bite your lip so hard it stings at the sound of his voice, dejected, depressed, palm finding the wall to stay upright.

The world tilts, falling out beneath you. For a second, you can see him. Standing on the other side of the counter, black sweatpants low on his hips, pouring some milk in Orion’s little orange cup, Nix cradled against him, stretched across his forearm. Simon laughs, licks his finger, and rubs something off the corner of Orion’s mouth.

You want to scream.

It’s a memory. Nothing else.

“.. okay?” John’s standing in front of you, head tilted, cupping your elbow. “You alright?” You raise your eyebrows, and he rolls his lips inward. “Sorry, course. You just… you looked a little sickly there for a minute.”

“Mama!” Orion yells, rocking back and forth to see you on either side of where John blocks the hallway. “Waffles!” You slide your hands down your shirt, Simon’s shirt.

“You made waffles?”

“Pre-mixed batter isn’t so hard. The lad was hungry.” Guilt simmers in the pit of your stomach, pinches your cheeks inward. “Hey, it’s okay. He was fine, jus’ a little impatient.” You nod, and he jerks his head back to the kitchen. “C’mon, I made you some too. And there’s fresh coffee.”

“Did you put me in bed last night?” You’re wiping down the countertop, some movie enrapturing your toddler in the background. He hesitates, and then nods.

“You were falling off the couch. Didn’t want you to brain yourself on the coffee table.” Your fingers curl around the mug, still warm to the touch, shoulders bunching beneath your ears before you forcibly relax them.

“Well, thanks.” I guess. An uncomfortable silence settles between you, questions evaporating on the tip of your tongue.

“I was going to head into town today for some groceries, can I get you anything?”

“Formula.” You blurt. “I can’t… we’ll need formula.” You don’t want to explain to him how it’s too much now, to breastfeed. How you won’t be able to handle it on top of everything else. How you think your milk will probably dry up anyway, bowing and breaking with the waves of your despair.

“What are you thinking about for dinner?” He scratches at the underside of his chin. The beard is overgrown, something you haven’t seen on him in a while, and there are dark circles under his eyes.

He’s grieving too. You know it.

You just can’t find it in you to care.

Something is weighing on John. Something is tied around his ankles, tethered to the sea floor, waiting to drag him beneath the surface. You see it. There’s guilt in the lines of his face, tension between his brows.

You wonder if there is blood on his hands.

“Why are you here, John?” You don’t intend to ask, but the words have a mind of their own and slip free.

“Wanted to stop by.” His voice is tight, rough like yours this morning. “Check in, see if you needed anything.” There are a million things you want to say, but words fail you. You don’t know how to tell him he should just leave, because nothing will ever be okay. You’ll always need something.

Simon.

Your husband.

The father of your kids. The man whose shirts are hung up in the closet. His paperback book still sitting open on his nightstand. His toothbrush still in the cup by the sink.

The agony you’ve managed to lock away for a few brief moments breaks free again, and you clap your hand over your mouth to muffle the heaving sob. John looks past you to where Orion still sits in front of the screen, mesmerized, and then takes you by the elbow to the bathroom.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, settling on the closed lid of the toilet, still choking on the lump in the back of your throat. “I told you, I can’t do this, I can’t. I can’t be without him, I don’t know how to be without him, I can’t-“

“Hey,” He’s crouched down, evening the height difference, looking at you with an expression so serious it quells your spiral for a fleeting moment. “You can do this. You have two beautiful kids who need you to do it for ‘em.” He hands you a square of toilet paper, and you wipe your nose.

“I want him back, John, I- I need him back.” You tuck your hands between your thighs, suddenly freezing, cold from the inside out.

“I know,” he murmurs gently, “I know you do.”

“There’s a lasagna in the fridge. Cami left it last night.” He’s tugging on his jacket, your handwritten grocery list from the fridge tucked in his pocket.

“Oh.” She’s texted you multiple times today, and all have gone unanswered. You don’t know what to say. “That was nice of her.”

“I’ll be back in a few hours after I take care of a few things and do the grocery run. You’ll be alright?” He’s treating you like glass. Like you’re a bomb primed to explode, big red letters counting down to an inevitable explosion. You manage to nod.

“Yeah.” The smile you give him is painfully fake, and you know he clocks it. “I’m going to hang out with the kids. Cuddle on the couch.” His smile is more genuine, but small.

“I’ll help you with dinner later.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I don’t mind.” He turns to leave, but you call his name before he hits the door.

“John?” His eyes meet yours. Blue. Crystalline like the sapphire on your finger. You clear your throat. “Thank you.”

He nods.

John finds you catatonic on the couch one morning. Nix in her day crib, the one that’s a permanent fixture in the living room, and Orion perched in front of an old Disney movie for the hundredth time this week.

You’re failing. Failing your kids, failing as a mother, failing to keep yourself patched together.

You thought you’d be stronger if it ever happened. You promised him you would be, but the promises have turned meaningless, your integrity torn to pieces.

You can’t remember the last time you showered or brushed your teeth. You’re sure you smell.

At least the kids are clean. Dressed. Fed. You’re not a complete disaster, you guess.

Still, when John appears in your line of sight, brows knitted together with worry, you’re caught off guard.

“Oh.” You blink, his frown deepens.

“I was calling your name. Were you somewhere else sweet?” Sweet.

“Sorry, I was… lost in thought.” He takes you in from head to toe, you in all your grimy glory.

“How about you take a break?” Irritation ignites, and you grit your teeth.

“I’m fine,” you snap. “I don’t need help.” His arms cross his chest.

“It’s not a request. You’ve been wearing those sweatpants for four days. Get up, and get in the shower, or I’ll put you in myself.”

“Fuck off.” You hiss, and his eyes widen, surprised. How many people have surprised John Price? Close to none, you imagine.

“That’s enough.” He hauls you off the couch by your forearms just as Orion glances your way, little brain no doubt trying to understand the situation. “Be right back, bud.” John soothes him, and you seethe at how easily your son, Simon’s, nods and returns to his movie.

He’s gentle somehow, dragging you to the bathroom, but still forceful as he holds you by the elbow and reaches into the shower to turn the tap on.

The little fight that was inside you is gone. You wilt. “I’m sorry,” you whisper to the floor, fingers knotted together.

“It’s alright.”

“It’s not.” You’re sniffling, crying for the hundredth time in the last few days, and he rubs your upper arm.

“Nothing is going to be okay for a while,” he murmurs, “forever, even. But you’re not alone, okay?”

“Okay.”

The rest of the week goes too fast. You’re getting farther and farther away from it, from the moments when Simon was still alive in this world, when he still existed.

Desperate to slow it down, you don’t sleep. You sit in the kitchen and scroll through your phone, replaying the same videos over and over again, tears dripping down your cheeks. Grief is an emotion, but it’s a physical ailment too. It rots in your stomach and starves you. It aches between your ribs, so viscerally it’s like there is a knife twisted there, scraping against your bones, sawing between your muscle.

You take care of the kids in a daze. Feed and change Nix on autopilot. You give in to Orion’s every wish without a second thought, and he has waffles every morning. Chicken nuggets every night. Ice cream sundaes with too much chocolate syrup and a mountain of whipped cream. As much screen time as his little heart desires. You let him sleep in your bed, curled up in your arms, his little fist clinging to the neck of whichever shirt of Simon’s you’re wearing.

He can’t sleep in his own. He wakes up crying.

Cami comes over and stocks your fridge and freezer. She refills your tea canister. She vacuums the entire house. She feeds and changes the baby. You watch, listlessly, and when she’s finished, she squeezes your hand with a promise to be over again in a few days. You don’t have the words to thank her, so you don’t try. You want to believe she knows anyway.

John is the steady presence. He’s here, doing the dishes, making sure the three of you are eating, helping with the kids. He watches you shrewdly, careful.

A ticking time bomb.

One he’s afraid to set off.

It doesn’t matter how much they try to lessen the burden of living. How much they try to support you. They can’t change anything. They can’t stem the bleeding of your broken heart.

Seven days after Simon’s funeral, you crack the bottle, the one you had shipped from the states, stupid expensive Kentucky bourbon, caramel colored gasoline.

The baby is asleep. Orion is exhausted from his day with Gaz and Cami.

You’re alone on the front porch, curled up in a blanket, the hood of Simon’s sweatshirt pulled over your head. The only light you have is the green glow of the baby monitor. Otherwise, it’s just you, the moon, and the stars.

The hoodie still smells like him. So do the pillows. His t-shirts. His side of the closet. It’s a blessing. It’s agony.

You drink directly from the bottle, though you should use a glass. Simon would chastise you for not using a glass. He would tell you to sniff it from the rim of a tumbler, and then laugh when your nose wrinkled.

You should use a glass, but you don’t. It’s easier to take big sips this way.

Truck tires crunch on gravel, and then the broad figure of John Price stands at the foot of the porch. “Hey.” You raise the bottle, expecting him to laugh. He doesn’t. The stairs creak beneath his feet.

“What do you have there?”

“Bourbon.”

“Kentucky?”

“The one and only.” You take another swig, baring your teeth when it burns. You shake it. “Want some?”

“Think you’ve had enough for both of us.” Ass. You bristle, anger boiling in your blood, but you’re too drunk to stay on track and unleash it.

“Why are you here?” It’s the same question you asked earlier this week, but you still don’t understand. He holds your gaze for a long time. The only thing you find there is devastation.

“I promised him.”

“You promised him what?” He rubs the back of his neck.

“This isn’t a good time for this conversation, let’s go inside-“ You don’t budge. You can’t.

“You promised him what, John.”

“I was there,” his voice is hoarse, and there’s a heaviness to it, an agony the two of you share. “And he knew. He knew we wouldn’t get him back in time, no matter how fast we landed a bird.” You can’t see, vision blotted out by your tears. You want to put your hands over your ears. You want to know everything single thing. The two sides battle, and your cheeks grow wet like your face is upturned in a downpour. “He made me promise to take care of you. To take care of the kids. Grabbed me by the front of my vest and asked me to swear. So I did. I swore. I swore and I’m not going back on my word to him. I never will.”

“You were with him.” You’re not sure you want to know, but you have to. You have to know every piece of him, even this. Even the end.

“Yes. I was with him at the end. He wasn’t alone.” You clutch the bottle against your chest, so tight you’re afraid it might break, shatter the glass into your fingers. It would hurt less than this.

“Was he scared?”

“No. He was only thinking about you. You and the kids. He wanted to make sure you were going to be okay, that was all he cared about. He dug the pocket square out of his vest and held it over his heart.” The sob breaks free and destroys the dam holding everything together. Your body shakes with it, the ugly noises coming from within you, the pain of losing the love of your life.

“You were supposed to keep him safe.” Your voice raises, the alcohol tainting your ability to be rational or stay quiet.

“I know-“

“Mama?” You jolt, turning to ice, pressing the heels of your hands to your eyes. John swears under his breath.

“Orion,” you croak. He’s stricken, holding his sippy cup, wide eyes focused on your face. “It’s okay, everything’s okay.” You try to reassure him, but his panic only increases, and you fail in the moment, unable to offer him comfort. John steps between the two of you and crouches.

“Hey bud.” He points at the sippy cup. “Need some milk in there?” Your son nods, trying to peek around him to see you. “How about,” John scoops him up, “we get you some more milk and get you back in bed okay?”

“I want mama.” His voice trembles. You feel sick and close your eyes, but the next thing you know there are little arms wrapping around your neck in a hug, your boy’s hair under your nose. You look up at John, his eyes red and his face tormented.

“Say goodnight and she’ll see you in a little bit, okay?”

“I love you, little man,” you kiss him once, twice, before rubbing his back. “Let Uncle John get you some milk and put you back to bed, okay? I’ll be in soon.” Their voices disappear down the hall, and you twist the cap on the bottle.

Down the hatch.

“He looks like him.” Orion is rolling around in the living room, playing with his magnatiles while Nix is on her back, feet in the air, kicking at the play arch. John hums, stroking a hand over his beard. He’s finally trimmed, looking more like himself and less like a mountain man.

It’s a strange feeling, to see him and notice it looks better. Good, even.

“He does.”

“Guess we’re lucky, in that way. Having these little pieces of him.” Orion has his eyes, his shoulders too. They have the same smile, even some of the same mannerisms, and it hurts so much to think about how it will fade over time, how Orion will no longer be able to mimic his father. John steers your mind away.

“Can I help you with dinner?” “No, I’m okay. But… if you want to stay, you can.” He should, but you don’t say it out loud. You don’t admit to him or even yourself that you’ve become reliant on him, his consistency, the steadfast force in your lives. Weeks have passed, and he hasn’t given up, no matter how hard you fight and fall apart. No matter how destructive you, the maelstrom at the center of your family’s life.

“We all lost-“

“You didn’t lose anything!” You’re screaming, finger jabbed in his chest, pushing him backward. He lets you. He doesn’t flinch. “He was mine! He was mine, not yours. He was ours. Our son’s. Our daughter’s. He belonged to us.” You’re barely breathing, suffocating underneath your grief, fingers going numb. He reaches, but you step away, swaying on your feet. You whimper. “F-fuck.”

“Come here.” It’s not a request, not the gentle coaxing you’re used to from him. It’s a command from a captain. When you don’t, he strikes, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you into his chest, hand at the back of your neck. “Breathe.” He rocks you side to side slowly, head down, rumble in his diaphragm soothing against your ear. “C’mon, you can do it. Big breaths.”

“I can’t.” It’s the same thing you’ve been saying over and over again. You can’t do it, you can’t do this, you can’t you can’t you can’t you-

“Yes, you can, you can. Try. I’m right here, I won’t let you fail. I promise.”

“John said you needed a break.”

“John doesn’t make decisions for me.” You snap, and Cami winces, triggering a tidal wave of guilt. “I’m sorry Cam. I… I’m having a hard time.” She rubs your shoulder.

“I know. It’s okay. You’re not going to offend me or push me away. I just want to help.” You sigh. “Let me take them for the night. You can catch up on some trash tv. Read a book. Take a bath.” She whittles you down, and you finally concede.

Except being alone is bad for you. It’s bad for your mind. It’s bad for your heart.

Hours later, John finds you in a pile of Simon’s clothes. You’re curled up, nose buried in cotton, skin swollen under your eyes. “Oh, sweet.”

“Go away.” You don’t even lift your head.

“No.”

“I don’t want you here.”

“That may be but I’m not leaving you here by yourself like this.” There’s an empty bottle of wine buried in this pile somewhere, and he plucks it free by the neck. “Didn’t save any for me?” It’s supposed to be a joke. It falls flat.

“I didn’t want… I didn’t want to have to think.” “I know.” He pulls you into a sitting position, palm cupping your cheek. “It’s okay.”

“I can help,” he motions to the kitchen. “I know how good you are with rice.” His smile turns mischievous, bright blue irises sparkling in the low afternoon sun, and you glower.

“I’m not that bad.”

The sink gets clogged one afternoon.

You try to diagnose it yourself, scrolling through google results on how to DIY it, try standing on your own. You’ll have to get used to it; you guess. Being a widow and all.

The attempts last about thirty minutes. Just in time for your front door to swing open, little feet hauling down the hallway, your son breathless and excited to tell you all about his trip to the park with John and Gaz. John follows right behind, trying to remind him about Phoenix’s naptime.

He pulls up short at the sight of you next to the sink, a pile of tools in the bowl.

“I uh… it’s clogged.” His lips twitch into a half smile. “I tried to fix it; I thought I should try. You know since…” You still have a wrench in your hand, but Orion is tugging at your shirt.

“Here,” he takes the wrench, touch casual as two fingers of his wrap around yours. It’s innocent. It’s nothing. But here he is, fixing your problems. Selflessly again, helping you out.

You’re not sure where you’d be right now if he wasn’t around-

At the thought, guilt so violent almost makes you double over.

Cami and Gaz host a spaghetti dinner, and you leave the house for the first time in weeks, months even. Time is a thief.

There’s laughter coming from the living room when you open the door, Orion sprinting from your side to where his uncles and aunt are hanging out. When you cross the threshold, Nix cooing in your arms and a loaf of banana bread in your free hand, the voices screech to a stop.

“Hi.” Your enthusiasm is lacking, but you’re trying. You really are, even though this is all you can give. Cami smiles excitedly as John stands and crosses the room.

“Let me help you with that.” He grabs the bread, warm hand briefly settling in the middle of your back before it disappears, taking the baby bag off your shoulder. You breathe him in, cigar smoke and pine. It’s calming, somehow. Familiar. “You okay?” He knows how hard this is. Knows how you tossed the decision back and forth, unsure, uncomfortable. You did it for Orion, in the end. You can’t deprive him of his community, so you nod silently.

Cami pulls you into her arms, putting her finger in Nix’s fist and pressing her cheek to yours. “I’m so glad you came.” You manage a weak smile.

“Me too, I… it’s good to see you. And everyone. Ry was really excited.” You look past her to where Soap has him in his arms, moaning and groaning about how they’re nearly the same size.

You take a deep breath.

You can do this.

They tiptoe around you all night. It should bother you, but it doesn’t. You’re not ready for anything else. For stories, for meaningful conversation. Everyone keeps it light. They veer away from work. They treat you with kid gloves.

It’s fine, but it’s exhausting, trying to keep yourself under control. Trying to quiet the ringing in your ears, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.

You almost manage it. But then someone slips up.

“- an’ that piece o’ shite. Simon was so pissed; I thought he was going to rearrange his face before he let him go.” Gaz laughs, you freeze. “He won in the end though, didn’t he? Always did, until-“

“Soap.” John cuts, and the table goes dead silent, as if they forgot. There’s a warm hand on your knee, but it’s not enough. Cami is shaking her head, blinking at him in horror, and Gaz glares. You stare down at a pile of peas.

“’m sorry,” Johnny whispers, stricken. “’m so sorry. I miss ‘im too, it helps… to talk about ‘im, ye know? I-“

“That’s enough.” John’s command is scathing.

You throw a quick excuse me over your shoulder as you make your way to the bathroom by the kitchen.

You try to breathe deep, but the oxygen doesn’t come as fast as you need it. You’re falling down the dern, despair filled hole that plagues your every waking hour. The reality you try to shove away, the fact that you’re here and he’s not.

Knuckles rap against the door. You undo the lock to come face to face with John, who steps inside and closes it behind him. You keep your gaze fixed on the floor, chest heaving. “Shhh,” he murmurs, pulling you close, “it’s alright.”

“I’m sorry.” He wipes the tears from your cheeks, tipping your face up.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Soap is oblivious sometimes.”

“It’s not up to me to tell people how to grieve.” He wraps you in a hug.

“It’s not, but he should treat you with respect.” You nod, drifting, trying to burn the words from your brain. You’re holding onto him. Clutching at his shirt, and he rubs a hand up and down your spine. It’s good. Warm, and comforting. You sink deeper, let him hold you, seeking solace. The strength you find in John.

You rest your cheek against his chest. “I’m so tired. I want to go home.” You whisper, and he smooths a hand over the back of your head.

“Okay. I’ll take you.” There’s another knock on the door, and you grimace.

It’s Cami. She has the baby on her hip, tears in her eyes. “I’m so-“

“It’s okay. Really. I’m just tired.” You’re lying, but you don’t have the heart to tell her the truth. She knows anyway. You never should have come. “I think I’m gonna head home.”

“I figured. I packed some food to go, and Gaz has Orion at the door.” Your best friend, always so kind, so thoughtful.

“Thanks, Cami. I love you.”

“I love you too. Text me when you get home, okay?” She passes Nix into your arms, following her with a hug, and you press your face to her shoulder before pulling away.

“I will.”

It’s been three days since the dinner, despondency settling back into your routine like it never left.

The kids help, John too. They keep you focused. They keep you alive.

“An’ cookie!” John smiles. It’s the lips quirked to the side one, the gleam in his eye one, combined with his standard issue work hair and beard, thick cable knit sweater stretched across the firm weight of his shoulders. It’s navy. Complements his eyes.

A flicker of heat burns in your stomach, between your legs, taking you by surprise.

You’re staring. You’re staring and he looks away from Orion, meeting your eyes, a question forming in them until you clear your throat and glance away, focusing on the baby in your arms and the last of her bottle before trying to get Orion prepared for the end of his night.

“Come on little man, finish your dessert so we can get your pajamas on.”

“U’cle John help me.” His arms cross against his chest, and you give him a reproachful look.

“What do we say when we want to ask someone to help?”

“Please.”

“Yes, please. Good job.”

“Please ‘cle John?” John glances your way, hesitant, and you shrug.

“Sure, bud. Once you’re finished.”

The kitchen gets the final wipe down when John slinks out of Orion’s room, clicking the door shut softly behind him.

“Nix go down?”

“Easily. She’s never fussy. Sleeps like a dream. Thanks for helping with him.” There is a glass on the coffee table, and a bottle of wine. You meant to have some earlier but got distracted. “I was going to have a glass of wine and watch something, want to stay and hang out for a bit?” You love your kids, but only having a baby and a toddler to talk to all the time can get old fast, no matter how much you love them.

His fingers brush yours when he takes the second glass from your hand, and you swallow. Your throat is suddenly dry, and you shiver.

The movie is two hours long, but forty-five minutes and two glasses of wine in, your head starts to feel heavy, and your eyelids grow lazy.

“- want to go to bed?”

“No,” you sigh. Your head is quiet, and you’re curled up against something warm, drifting in the sweet space between sleep and waking, low volume of the tv murmuring in the background. “Gonna stay here.” The blanket is tucked around your shoulders, and you snuggle deeper, sagging into the cushions. You’re almost there, just on the cusp when you jerk. “Baby monitor.” You mumble, and a whisper traces an arc from your temple to jawline, touch so featherlight it’s hard to know if it was ever there at all.

“Sleep, dove. I’ll be here.”

“We were going to have another baby you know. He wanted another one so badly. Kept trying to knock me up every time he was home.” The ice rattles in your glass, and you cast a long look at the half empty bottle between the two chairs you’re in on the porch.

“He told me.”

“He did?”

“Mmm. Kept talkin’ about how you turned him into a caveman all the time.” You laugh. It’s real. A real laugh, something unbidden, releasing from your chest. John raises his eyebrows, and smiles.

“That’s how it was. He was always like that.” The stars are really bright tonight. They have been, ever since you buried him. You’re not sure if there’s less light pollution lately or if you’re just paying attention more. Sometimes you want to believe it’s something else entirely. If it’s a piece of him making them glow for you. Lighting up your sky. Wrapping you in a blanket of midnights, little collections of constellations in his arms. “They’re named after the stars, you know. The babies.”

“I know.” He sips his whiskey. “Orion the giant hunter, son of Poseidon, and Phoenix, rising from ash to be reborn.”

“Yeah.” You’re crying, again, and you wipe the tears away as quickly as you can.

“They’re beautiful names.” You don’t answer. There’s nothing to say, so the two of you sit there, side by side on the porch in silence until you break it.

“I’m angry at him. I’m so mad, he broke his promises. He broke all his promises and left me here. He left me.”

“He didn’t do it on purpose. He loved you so much.” You twist the ring on your left finger. It’s looser now, your inability to stomach most things starting to show. You wouldn’t have even noticed, or cared, unless John said something. ‘I promised I’d take care of you. That includes not letting you turn into a beanstalk.’

“He didn’t keep his promise.” There is the crux of it. All the promises made, only one kept. ‘Til death. Except he’s gone, and you’re still here.

Turning into a ghost.

“Can you hang out with the kids for a little bit tonight?” His brow pulls together, pinching in the middle, lines of his forehead wrinkling just bit, just enough to remind you of his age.

“Sure, everything okay?” Your eyes find your feet.

“I want to go to the cemetery.” His mouth opens, and whatever was going to come out of it disappears with his nod.

“Alright.”

You’re sick.

That’s the only way you can explain this, laying here on top of the plot, bottle of Kentucky bourbon in your hand. You’ve dumped some on the ground at the base of his stone, a toast of some kind, a sad, hopeless connection sitting one sided.

This is a special kind of agony. It’s the kind that wears you down. It makes you ill. It has you wishing you could dig up his coffin and crawl inside it. Sick. Rotting from the inside out.

“John’s kept his promise to you,” you manage another large swig, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “He’s always around. Helps with the kids a lot. Keeps us afloat. I guess he takes his pledges pretty seriously.” Another swig. This one leaks from the side of your lips. “I hate you, you know that? If you weren’t dead, I’d kill you myself. You weren’t supposed to leave us here. You were always supposed to come home. You promised.” You dig into the earth, dirt and grass compacting under your fingernails.

The night is dark and starless.

Figures.

You’d do anything to change this. Anything. You can’t carry it. You can’t bear it. It’s too heavy. Too much. For one moment, you’d like to not feel it, to not know the crushing weight of your grief. It follows your every waking minute. It follows you in your dreams.

When people die, there are always these fantastical stories floating around about their loved ones seeing a bird, or a cloud, or a rainbow. Some overwhelmingly positive sign leading them to believe the deceased is at peace.

It’s all bullshit.

There are no signs. There is no peace.

There’s only you, and the dead man you love in the ground.

It’s late when you make it home.

You probably shouldn’t have driven. It’s a short ride to and from the little graveyard on the hill, but you’re ashamed to have done it.

You know better.

“Didn’t hear you come in.” Your keys clang against the counter, forgotten as you turn to face him. The lie gives you pause. He knew you had come in. Simon never missed the sing of a door hinge, the latch of a window. You know they operate. How they function.

Still, you let it go. You don’t have the mental capacity to call him out.

He’s closer than you expected. Close enough you can smell him. It’s always the same, cigars and pine. Fresh needles fallen on the forest floor. He reminds you of it too in a way. The woods. Something about him, the way he fits into his sweater, the rough heels of his hands, like he’s felled a thousand trees and could go for a thousand more.

He’s got amber gold on the rocks in his hand, more whiskey. The ice has diluted it a bit, a thin watery film sitting on the bottom of the glass. You wrap your fingers around the rim and tip it to your lips. It burns. The clock ticks, the two of you breathe in and out. In and out.

“I can’t carry this.” You blurt, setting the glass down a little too hard. “I know you think I can… but I can’t. I’m drowning.”

“No one expects you to right now…” He’s talking, reassuring, supporting you, but there’s nothing except for his eyes. They’re the color of the ocean, the one you swam in the weekend Simon put the ring on your finger.

Your ears are ringing. Your blood is hot, the alcohol rewiring your brain until it conjures wild ideas about an escape. Maybe you don’t have to carry it, for a minute. Maybe you can close your eyes and share it with someone. Share it with him. Just for a minute.

“John.” You whisper, still focused on his eyes.

“What is it?” You twist your fingers in his sweater, dirt from under your fingernails getting caught in the wool, and he tenses, confused. “Hey, maybe-“ No maybes. You swing onto your toes and drag him downward, pressing your mouth to his in a rush. He grunts, but the kiss lingers until he pulls away. “You’re drunk.”

“Yes.” You can’t place the look he gives you, mind too far gone. If you were sober, you’d say it was significant. He cups your cheek.

“Let’s sit down and-“

“No. John. Please. Help me carry it. Please.” Electricity crackles in the air, his hand sliding to your neck where he holds it firm with two fingers.

“We can’t. Shouldn’t. It’s just the grief, it’s-“

“Please.” You raise yourself back onto your toes, and though he’s dead still, he doesn’t stop you. He doesn’t stop you as you kiss the corner of his mouth, beard brushing against your chin, and he doesn’t stop you when you find his lips again, parting your own, holding onto his shoulders.

He groans, hands drifting to your hips and digging into them, gripping you so tight, a pendulum swinging, pushing you away, pulling you back, until he gives in.

You’re kissing captain Price, for fucks sake. Your husband’s boss, his friend. One of the most important men in his life.

The betrayal burns.

This is wrong. So wrong, but there’s a wild piece of you that wants it. Likes it. The pieces that have taken solace in John have now turned to something else, something stronger, more vibrant.

It’s wrong. So wrong.

But in this moment, there’s nothing else but you and him and this decision. There’s no room for the other things that plague you.

It’s rough. You’re rough. He’s rough. You pin him against the kitchen counter, fumbling with his belt and zipper, sandpapered pads of his thumbs under your shirt and rolling over your nipples. You’re clumsy, disorientated, only saved when he spins you around and folds you over the cool surface. “Alright.” He murmurs like it’s just now kicked in what you’re doing, what’s happening in this moment, this sacrilege now staining you both. He kicks your feet wide, and rips your leggings to your ankles, tracing a line back up your thigh to shove his hand inside your panties and through your folds to push his finger inside you.

“Ah, John-” You hiss, arching your back, greedy for more, desperate for something, waiting and wanting, willingly going with him as he drags you to the floor, pushes you to your knees and bends you over, too big hand between your shoulder blades.

He fills you in a single stroke and you cry out, slapping a palm over your mouth to cover your scream, stifling the moans that follow. It’s a stretch, one that burns, too much and too soon, but this isn’t meant to be slow. It’s not a treasure, a sentimental unfolding of passion. It’s grief. It’s loss. It’s nothing like love. “Christ.” He grits, pinching your ass. “You’re bloody tight, sweet.” You can’t respond, your free hand digs against the hard wood, scrambling for something to hold onto as he shoves his cock against your cervix. You’re going to come unreasonably fast, already clamping down around him, tightening with the curl of your toes. “Be nice and quiet for me now, angel.” He pulls you up by your chest, mouth hot at your ear as he reaches for your clit, pinching the swollen nub and then smacking it with an open palm, your shriek barely muffled by your hand. He’s speaking, but you’re not quite catching it, too distracted by the blinding light on the outside of your vision, sparks blooming into fireworks. “Oh dove, you’re coming,” his mouth is on your cheek, kissing, nipping, and you turn to steel, vibrating with the strength of your orgasm, pathetic whines ghosting over his neck as your head tips back. He coos, brushes a hand over your forehead. It’s comforting, sick comfort for a sick girl. “Good girl, Shh, I know, I know it’s a lot.” The peak crashes, and you twitch, pulsing around him, fingernails digging into his forearm.

He comes all over you. Puts you back on all fours and curses under his breath, holding you steady, gripping your ass cheek so hard it will be tender tomorrow. The ocean rushes in your ears and you start to drift away, post orgasm, post fuck, sweaty and sated as he paints you.

“Fuck honey-“

I’ve got a lot of cum for you, honey

Tell daddy what you’re doing, honey

Can’t get over how good you taste, honey

Feel how bad I want to be inside you, honey?

The tip of the knife jams between your ribs. It penetrates your heart. It shreds organ and bone until the injury is so catastrophic, the only fix is death.

The noise you make is more animal than human.

Honey, honey, honey-

You flinch and crawl away panicked. He’s calling your name but you’re deaf to it, drowning in Simon’s voice.

Simon, your husband, who was the last man inside you. Simon who called you honey, and sweetheart, and mama. Simon, who’s body is cold in the ground. Who’s ring is on your finger.

Honey, honey, honey-

You stumble to your feet and make it to the sink just before the whiskey and bourbon comes shooting out of your mouth.

Sick.

“Promise me-“

“Shut up Simon. That’s an order.” He’s got her embroidered pocket square in his fingers, stained in blood, crimson dotting out the constellations. The radio crackles, but it only confirms what they both know.

Simon has minutes. They need at least twenty.

He shakes his head. John presses harder on his abdomen, pointedly ignoring the river of red spilling out beneath his palms. Sometimes it’s easy to forget how much human bodies bleed. It’s not like he’s usually sticking around to watch.

“John.” Simon’s free hand latches onto the strap of John’s vest and jerks it roughly, pulling him closer. “You swear to me, right now. Do it.”

“I won’t. There’s still time. Stop talking, you need the oxygen.” His lips crack into a smile, gaze already starting to fall away, and then snaps to, refocusing.

“Tell her I love her. And that I’m sorry.”

“You’ll tell her yourself, Lieutenant.” He shakes his head, fist tightening over that little square, dragging to his heart, the organ beneath the vest that’s beating too slowly.

“John. Swear it. Promise me you’ll take care of her. You’ll take care of them.” There’s blood trickling down his jaw now, flowing from his lips. “She’s strong, but it’s gonna be hard. She’ll need you. The kids will need you. Nix is only a baby, she can’t-“ he coughs, shudders, and then his brow furrows with determination. “They can’t grow up without a dad.” John’s stomach, already an open pit, now rips into a black hole.

“You’re their dad, Simon. You are.” His voice cracks.

“Swear.”

“No.”

“Swear to me!” Simon shouts in his face, blood spraying on his cheeks. Gaz is yelling at them from twenty-five yards away, but it doesn’t matter. There’s not enough time.

They stare at each for seconds that are really eternity. They’ve been together in this hell, in this job, for so long. Suffered and slogged and killed together for so long. Simon isn’t just his team member, he’s a part of his life.

A rabid fucking dog brutalized and beaten down, now a husband, a father, a leader in his own right.

John pushes away the memory of the day he met Orion. The pride on Simon’s face. The pure joy.

He would never deny him.

They hold on to each other’s forearms. It’s goodbye.

“I swear it, Simon. I will take care of them. I promise. On my life.”

“And you’ll tell her I love her.”

“I will.”

He should have stopped you.

Looking back, it’s hard to believe it happened, but it’s not hard to remember. Not hard to remember how you felt, scorching velvet plush around his cock, not hard to remember the sounds you make when you come, how your pussy twitches. Not hard to remember how beautiful you were in his arms, shaking and crying, holding tight to him as he fucked you as deep as he could.

And it’s hard to forget the horror on your face. The way you crawled away like a wounded animal. The hoarse sobbing that came after the vomit in the sink. The way your knees gave out. The way you told him to get the fuck out.

Help me carry it.

It’s survivor’s guilt. It must be. Or trauma bonding. He’s been here for you, for the kids. He’s held you and wiped your tears and scooped you off the floor.

Because it’s his duty.

Right?

He can’t deny there’s something wrong with him, though. There’s something wrong with the way he barked at Soap during dinner, something wrong with the way he let you curl up beside him with your head on his stomach the night you fell asleep on the couch. He just sat there, stroked your cheek, rested his hand on his shoulder.

The guilt builds. It’s compounding, and fueling the anger, the rage directed at himself.

How dare he? How dare he betray Simon like this? How dare he try to take something that’s never been his?

He walks it like a tightrope. It’s his duty. It’s a betrayal.

Duty. Deceit. Duty. Betrayal. An oath. A line crossed, again and again.

He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do except crush and pulverize this thing trying to bloom. He rips out it by the roots.

Though he knows as well as any, determined things always find a way.

You don’t even look at him, and it gets under his skin. It feels wrong. Everything is wrong.

“Orion is almost ready.” You say over your shoulder, already moving away from him and down the hall, running but you’re not being chased. He’s supposed to take the lad fishing today. Orion has been looking forward to it all week, and you, quite frankly, don’t have the energy.

He catches you by the elbow and you jerk away, lips pressed together and eyes down. “Look at me.” You shake your head, glisten of tears catching in the early morning light streaming through the windows. He says your name, as softly as he can manage, and you tremble.

“I can’t do this right now.”

“Do what? Talk to me?” He’s pushing, and maybe he shouldn’t.

“Yes.” You hiss, venom twisting your face into a mask he’s never seen before. “I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to talk about what we did.” Your voice cracks on the last word, and it hurts in a way he didn’t expect. He wants to agree. He wants to wipe your face and tug you into his chest. He wants to bury the guilt ripping through him and turn around. Walk out the door.

He’ll do none of it. He’s a man of his word, above all else.

“When you’re ready then.” He nods as if it’s nonnegotiable, and then saved from a rebuttal when Orion runs full speed from his room. You turn on your heel and storm away.

Fine.

He’s at your door the next night for dinner.

You stand in the frame, arms crossed, anger etched into your face. “I don’t need your help tonight.”

“You going to make me a liar then?” He snaps, patience thin. The anger dissipates, and it’s replaced by that same despondent, dead look in your eyes that’s been making him sick since the day he came to the door. “Make me go back on my word to him?”

“John.” You whisper his name with shaking hands.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything.” There’s acid on the tip of his tongue. It’s stringent, bitter like the soap his mum washed his mouth out with. He doesn’t know why, but it stings. You look up at him, eyes so wide, so sad, so lost, he has to hold himself back from dragging you into his arms. “It didn’t mean anything, dove. It was just us. Just between us. Just grief.”

“Just grief.” You parrot, tears dripping from the corners of your eyes and down your temples. He brushes them away, and you surprise him by leaning into it. You smile weakly. “We’re having pasta bake.”

A few days later, and there are loads of laundry on your couch when he walks in. You throw him a desperate look, piles separated into toddler clothes, baby clothes and your own. They’re mountains, nearly at your chest when standing.

“Get a little behind?”

“I’ve been a little tired, I guess.”

“Can I help?” “Sure, want to fold onesies?” You laugh a little bit, enough to crack your lips into a small smile. He likes it. Likes your smile. It reminds him of the one you used to give Simon, the way it would break across your face, sunshine in a patch of clouds. He’d nuzzle your cheek, your neck, holding Orion on his hip with one arm, and you with another.

He stills, holding a small yellow piece of clothing.

Your husband. Simon was your husband.

And he’s the interloper.

Swear to me-

I swear it-

I will take care of them.

His ears ring with the bells of remorse, the song of at the beginning of a procession.

“John? You alright?” He’s been staring at you this entire time, but not seeing you, just seeing the past, seeing Simon, seeing everything that came before these moments where he’s being torn in two. He nods, not trusting his voice, his words.

“Will you be here for dinner tonight?” He usually is. It kills two birds with one stone. He makes sure you’re functioning; he makes sure you’re eating. It’s never been a question of you caring for the kids. The worry has been about you caring for yourself.

He can’t stomach sitting down for a meal with you and Orion today, so he lies. “I have to get home and get some work done.” You’re surprised, and then disappointed. He sees it so clearly and chooses not to dwell on it.

He can’t stay. He needs to work this out of his system.

You’re sad tonight.

Some days are really bad days, and then some of them are awful, like these. The ones where you move from bed to the couch, feeding and changing and dressing the kids on autopilot. He calls them your sad days, because he doesn’t want to call it what it is. Depressed days, despair days, you’ve given up days.

Some of the days are better, but these are the worst. It gets ugly at night, when the anxiety and fear becomes too much, when the loss crashes down too quickly.

The house is quiet, and you’re curled up in the middle of the bed under a heap of blankets, staring at the wall. You don’t acknowledge him when he opens the door or slips inside, you say nothing when he sits on the side of the bed. He lays a hand on your shoulder. You don’t react.

“Did you eat today?”

“A little.” He strokes your cheek, backs of his fingers gliding over soft skin, trying to rouse you a bit more, and you sigh.

“Kids go down alright?”

“Fine. Orion is upset he can’t sleep in our,” your face twists, “my bed anymore. But I placated him with too much ice cream.” You manage a smile then, and he matches it.

“That’s good. Nothing he won’t do for some chocolate yeah?”

“Yeah.” Your voice is small. “John?”

“What is it?”

“Do you think it will ever go away?” He smooths some baby hairs back from your forehead.

“I don’t know, angel. Eventually it will hurt less, I imagine. But the loss will always be there.” Your cheeks glisten in the dark, sliver of light shining through the crack in the door from the hallway.

“I’m glad you were with him.” He bites the inside of his cheek so hard he bleeds.

“I am too.” Your fingers curl around his.

“I don’t want to be alone tonight.” The ache in his heart is back, doubling the beat, blood churning all the way to his toes. “Will you stay?” He shouldn’t, but he folds himself alongside where you’re under the blankets and tucks your head into his neck.

“Yes, dove. I’ll stay.”

The next time it happens is filled with rage.

You’re a wild animal, a wolf starved, teeth bared and snapping, claws out.

But you beg him for it. You plead. You demand.

It’s just us. Just grief. Take it from me. Why should I be the only one carrying this?

It’s wrong as he takes you on the bathroom floor, cold tile under his knees, warmth of your thighs bracketed at his waist. You dig your nails into his back hard enough to break skin, and he pins them back, his forehead knocked against yours, sharing breath. Sharing grief.

He breaks you down eventually, pushing his cock so deep you wail, holding you firm with a hand on your hip. He doesn’t want this, doesn’t want to betray him, doesn’t want to take his place in a home that could never be his.

Still. He can’t stop. He can’t help himself. He lives for your cries, the way you tighten around him when you come, how your eyes turn into bright stars at your peak.

It angers him. He’s always been a man of control.

“Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes, fuck, t’s not… it’s just-“ He snatches your jaw, and you look away.

“Look at me sweet. Look at me and tell this is just grief.” You can’t. You don’t. Instead, he shoves his hand between your legs and rubs your clit until you come.

When it’s over, you cry.

“Is this it?” He stares at Simon’s headstone. “Is this what you meant? Is this what I promised you?” Dead men don’t answer to anyone, ghosts don’t provide explanations. John replays those last moments in his mind, burning Simon’s face into his memory so he never forgets, so he never gets confused. He’s in another man’s place, a father and a husband’s place.

It’s been days since he’s seen you. Cami visits in his stead, which is good for you, better. You need a friend now, not him. Not whatever this is. Not whatever he’s done to you or vice versa.

He claps a hand on top of the stone, the same way he’d do it to Simon’s shoulder.

“I promised on my life, but I didn’t promise this.”

You haven’t seen or heard from John in nearly a month.

It didn’t bother you at first since they were gone for work, but when Gaz opened the front door to greet you two weeks ago, you were surprised.

They’re back and he didn’t reach out.

Why?

You miss him. It’s a shameful revelation, and a surprising one.

So much for the mourning widow.

“Mama, i’cream?” Orion is huddled between your legs, tugging on your jeans while you bounce Phoenix, trying to get her to settle before bed.

“No ice cream tonight baby.” His eyes well with tears, and the guilt hits you. Be strong. Don’t give in, you’re spoiling him too much.

“Let’s go get in bed and I’ll read to you, okay?”

“No! I’cream!” Your face crumples.

“Orion, please. I already said no. Now can you help mama and go get in your bed?” He flings his hands at your thighs, little face twisted up with rage.

Normally, you’re well equipped for the tantrums. It’s part of having a toddler, but tonight, it’s breaking your back. Wearing you down. You’re about to walk away, create some space, take a deep breath when the doorbell rings.

Literally saved by the bell.

Orion’s already running down the hall, bouncing on his toes as you open the door to see John on the other side. Weary. Weathered. “U’cle John!”

“Hey, bud.” He locks eyes with you, standing on the threshold, meeting your eyes unflinchingly. “Need some help?” You swallow.

“Come in, you’re letting all the heat out.”

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” Your mouth is on his, or his on yours, you’re not sure how it started. All you know is his arms are warm, and strong, and a safety net at the bottom of your life now, waiting outstretched for when you lose your balance on the tightrope.

“I know.” He does that thing where he cradles your face, stares into your eyes like he’s seeing an entire universe, one he’s never been to, a planet undiscovered, stars recently born and exploded across a night sky. “I know sweet, but- I can’t-“ It’s why he stayed away, he confessed earlier. Why he disappeared. It wasn’t fair, he knew that.

The guilt is crushing him. It’s crushing you.

“What’re we doing then?” It’s not right, whatever this is.

But his body pressed against yours, his arms holding you tight, it’s impossible to run from. Hard to hide.

It’s not just grief anymore. A hydra with a head cut off, two more born again from the wound. It's a flower blooming in a forest of ash, life finding a through the gash of a wildfire. A small, tiny, flame, desperate to burn.

“Just kiss me,” you breathe, mouths now millimeters away from one another. His chest heaves beneath your fingertips. “Just kiss me, John.”

“Daddy.” Orion pats his hand on the stone, little fingers digging into the engraving.

Husband. Father.

Your thumb finds the sapphire, rubbing the stone it in practiced circles, and Phoenix coos beside you, half buried beneath the wool of John’s jacket. “Ready to go home, little man?” You’re crouched behind him, holding him, kissing his cheek. This is a weekly tradition, the visit, and even in the dead of winter when it’s too cold for the kids, you never miss it.

Your commitment never wavers, your gold band a mirror to the one buried beneath your feet, an eternal tie to your husband.

‘Til Death.

You will never not be Simon’s wife, the mother of his children, his moon. You will never marry again. You will never have another child.

But that doesn’t mean there isn’t room for a sunrise, a dawn, a new promise. An oath to John, though never formal or official in the eyes of the law, but true all the same.

The sun. The stars. The moon.

“Alright, we ready?” You press another kiss to your son’s face before scooping him up, taking one last look before nuzzling Orion’s face. “See you next week, Si.”

John lingers for a moment, a hand curled over the stone, fingers flexing into a squeeze. His eyes are distant, a world away, tangled up in the past for a long moment.

“Hey,” you call softly, extending a hand. “let’s go home.”

#peaches writes #price x reader #fix you by Coldplay #john price #john price x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #through me (the flood)#captain price x reader

935 notes · View notes

alwaysanundertone · 3 months ago

Text

Why Try | poly! marauders x fem reader

slight angst, fluff

word count: 1.3k

CW: mention of not eating (previous chapter), swearing, kissing (?)

tag list: tag: @staarflowerr @mooonyxoxo @liviessun @lonely-nerd-sodaholic @hcqwxrtss123

chapter 1, chapter 2, this is chapter 3, chapter 4 will be coming soon

After the fainting accident, you decided to go for a walk together by the Black Lake, given the fact that your secret relationship wasn’t a secret anymore.

Sirius sat by a tree, gesturing for you to lay down and rest your head on his thighs; you did so, James by your side and Remus at your feet, massaging your calves. You sat in comfortable silence for a while, though you knew it was bound to end.

“I hate to interrupt this, but I feel like we have to talk” You turned your head to Remus, who was looking at you sweetly. “First, how are we gonna deal with your brother? You said he was really protective over you”

You took a deep breath, you could just keep up with this lie, or tell the truth. “He is, but he’ll get over it, I’ll deal with him”. You smiled, trying hard to school your expression in order to not seem suspicious.

“Okay doll, still you shouldn’t have to deal with him alone, you know? We are more than happy to help” James looked at you softly, and you felt like a complete asshole, lying to him like that.

The problem was, you were ashamed of your insecurities. Even it still hurt to think about them, it seemed so silly to talk, to acknowledge the fact that you were, in fact, sad over something so insignificant.

“Why did you avoid us?” You startled, looking up at Sirius.

“I didn’t-“

“You did. We were worried sick, but we didn’t want to overstep, because we aren’t official yet. If you were sad you could have come to us, we could have talk it out, you know?” He looked genuinely hurt. “What happened? I just- We just want to know, please? And also, why did you starve yourself?”

Now you were feeling ashamed and guilty. You were not right for them, you didn’t know much about Sirius family situation, but you knew that he didn’t need another thing to worry about. Remus and James had their problems, and they needed to support Sirius, definitely not you.

“Love? Talk to us, will you?”

“This was a mistake” You tried hard not to cry, to seem heartless.

“What? What was a mistake?” Sirius looked devastated, and that hurt even more.

Your voice cracked slightly. “This whole relationship thing, I’m no good for you, I ruined everything like I always do” You sniffed slightly. “I’m sorry” You quickly detangled from them.

“No, wait Y/N, I didn’t mean-“ You started walking away, James was swearing while Sirius voice sounded dangerously close to crack. “Y/N! For God’s sake, come back”

You did it. You ruined everything like you always did, but this time it was for the best. This time you were protecting them, and this made you feel slightly better.

Maybe you spoke too quickly.

Remus had your wrist in an iron grip. “Y/N. You can’t just walk away like that.” You tugged your wrist, but he didn’t let go. “No, now you’ll listen to me. You can’t run away without an explanation. Here’s what’s gonna happen: you will sit down, and you will explain what is going on in that pretty head of yours, and we will listen to you. Then, only then, we will talk this out”

You sniffled, watching Sirius and James catching up to you, the latter hugging you tightly. You broke.

“It’s just that I ruin everything, I always do!” You cried. “I don’t mean to hurt the ones I love, but I just do, look at Sirius! I might not know everything about his situation, but I know he doesn’t need to worry about me, on top of everything.” James was rubbing soothing circles on your back. “I’m not enough for you.”

Sirius forrowed his brows. “Love, don’t think for a moment that you’re a burden. You made these last weeks so full of joy, you made me worry less about everything else.“

“But you were worried about me, I didn’t mean to-“

“Listen, I’m always going to worry about the people I love, understood? I can’t just not be effected by it, so you should get used to it”

Your heart did a somersault. “Love?”

They all smiled at you gently. “Yeah, you’re becoming more important to us every day, it’s definitely starting to feel like love to us” James kissed your forehead. “We had a massive crush on you far before you started talking to us, you know? So don’t think for a moment you’re not good enough for us, because you are, I can assure you baby. Just think about the heartbreak you will put us through if you leave”

“It’s just- Look at me, why are you so interested in me? I have nothing special, I’m not super smart, I don’t look like a model, I fail at all of my hobbies! You are literally perfect, and popular, and smart and funny, I don’t get it. You are just-“ A sob broke through. “I don’t deserve you”

They all hugged you, Remus cradled your head in his hands, he was so gentle, so soft, you had no choice but to melt into his touch. “I won’t tolerate hearing you talk so badly about yourself; all of this negativity will inevitably affect your perception of yourself and our relationship, and we can’t have that, now can we?” You shook your head. “Exactly. So next time you feel like that, you will come to us, we will talk it out and then cuddle, but you just can’t disappear on us! Not even the Gray Lady would do this!”

“Yeah, Moony is right.” You looked up at Sirius. “I know that avoided us seemed like the best option, but avoiding a problem doesn’t make it go away; and just for the record, not eating doesn’t make a problem disappear, don’t neglect yourself like that ever again, for the love of God”

Your crying quieted down during Remus and Sirius’ speech, now you were looking into Moony’s eyes, you felt his breathing getting slightly more laboured.

“Can I kiss you, baby?” You breath hitched, and you nodded slightly.

You felt his lips press on yours, softly, the scar on his upper lip rubbing gently against you. His hands started making their descent, first on your waist, then at the small of your back, the tips of his fingers on the upper part of your ass. You licked at his lower lip, making him moan.

Suddenly, his tongue was in your mouth, and his hands were squeezing your ass, making you whimper. He then started trailing kisses down your neck, making your legs wobble. Sirius came up behind you, his arms around your waist.

“You like what Remus is doing to you, doll?” You nodded, incapable of saying a word. “Yeah? What if I did this?” Starting at the base of your neck, he started kissing and licking the part of your neck unoccupied. You were so lost in the things they were doing to you, you didn’t realise that Remus was actually giving you hickeys.

You felt Remus going away, you were not given the moment to mourn his loss because he was replaced with James, who started kissing you, his hands directly on your ass, squeezing softly and pressing you more into him.

“Okay, I think it’s best to stop this before it gets out of control” You blushed, Sirius smirking down at you.

“I think we should go cuddle in our dorm” James gently massaged your shoulders. “How was our first kiss, love?”

You felt your ears burning. “G-Good. It was good, fantastic actually”

They all laughed, leading you to the Gryffindor tower.

#marauders #sirius black #james potter #poly!marauders angst #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x you #remus lupin #sirius x reader #james x reader #remus x reader

235 notes · View notes

notjustjavierpena · 9 months ago

Note

I have recently watched scenes from a marriage with oscar isaac and my mind which connects everything with hubby javi immediately went to this:

imagine wife’s and javi’s friends are going through a divorce, there’s cheating m, miscommunication etc and just a very hard time.

I feel like Javi and Wife would have a conversation about this due to the proximity of it happening to their friends. One about trust and if they’re happy. It’s not about insecurity or anything just them both communicating effectively and giving the other reassurance that this is not on the cards for them.

I just value their relationship so much.

Reassess

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Hiya anon! I hope it’s okay that I tweaked your request slightly to fit my version of hubby and wife. Enjoy ❤️ Thanks so much for proofreading, @angelofsmalldeath-codeine !!!

Summary: You and Javier’s friends are going through a divorce, and it suddenly makes you wonder about your own marriage.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18, talk about divorce, talk about cheating, brief descriptions of piv sex with creampie, hurt/comfort, love!, mention of pregnancy and pregnant reader, cuddling, kisses, Javier is a great husband and you are anxious

Word count: 1.6k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54352768

Reassess

Jonathan and Mira are getting a divorce. The news had been announced to you by Javier when he entered the dimly lit living room on a Thursday night, looking paler than a ghost after what you had wrongly assumed to be a same-as-always phone conversation about football, work and going out for a beer in the near future.

“No!” You had instinctively covered your mouth with your hand to suppress an animated gasp. Apparently, Mira had come clean about seeing another man a few days earlier and it only took shy of two days for their whole marriage to crumble. The thought was and is terrifying.

It seems to dampen the mood between you and your husband significantly. There are more pregnant silences, longer stares, more hurried kisses, and worried faces in the middle of your daily routines that become opportunities for reflection when doing something mundane as folding laundry. However, the elephant in the room becomes most unbearable when Javier rolls off of you after making love to you a week after the news hit.

He stares up at the ceiling and pants as he tries coming down from his high, reaching up to run his fingers through his slightly sweaty hair. You shift on your side of the bed to turn your body towards him, and gently lay a hand on his chest, “That was really good.”

“Hm? What?” He replies, “Oh right, yeah.”

“Honey,” you furrow your brow, “I don’t think I particularly like having sex with you if you’re not here with me.”

“Lo siento (I’m sorry),” his eyes find yours, his voice is genuine, “I can’t stop thinking about Jon and Mira.”

Your eyes soften at that. It is nice to know that he is as shaken by this happening as you are, and in such close proximity to your own marriage too even if it technically has nothing to do with you. It suddenly hits why it has been so hard to start up a conversation about it.

“Me either,” you sigh and scratch his chest gently with your nails and lay your head on his shoulder. He takes hold of your wrist and rubs the back of your hand with his thumb in soothing circles, “I can’t believe they ended up like that, who would have thought?”

“And Ava?” Javier sounds devastated and turns his head toward yours so he can rest his lips in your hair.

“She must be so confused,” you mumble back, lost in thought. Ava is Mira and Jonathan’s daughter who sometimes has play dates with Inés, and to think that she has to deal with her parents not being able to work as a couple, especially since Mira apparently had to go sleep with someone else, is a scenario that you find nauseating when your brain automatically starts imagining your own children in the same scenario. You don’t think Lucas would ever forgive you if you caused that much hurt to his father, “I don’t know what Mira was thinking. Ava has to deal with her mom having hurt her dad. Why would she put her through that?”

“Jonathan said she’s in love with this new guy,” Javier argues.

“I suppose sometimes you just fall in love with someone else,” you say without any emotion in your voice except for maybe a hint of disgust.

“Are you happy? With me?” The question has been looming over the both of you since the news hit. It was only a matter of time before one of you would start reassessing your own marriage.

You lift your head up to look Javier straight in the eyes, and even if you knew it was coming, you still feel taken aback by how much it makes your guts turn to even be told to consider it. The answer is so clear, “What? I—“

“That’s not an immediate yes,” he furrows his brow in concern.

“Don’t be absurd,” you say back, “I love you so much it’s ridiculous.”

“But do you ever worry about us?” He continues.

“This is the part where you say you love me too,” you joke without much humor in your voice.

“Are you kidding? I’m nothing without you,” he lifts the hand you still have on his chest to kiss your palm, “Te amo tanto (I love you so much) but I need you to answer the question.”

“I don’t ever worry about us, no,” you answer truthfully and Javier visibly relaxes, “I know you. I trust you. It doesn’t even occur to me that I could have anything different in my life, you know? It feels like I would always have found you somewhere else if not here.”

“Perhaps they looked for something else when things became routine,” he suggests, resting your hand against his cheek.

“It’s never routine for me to tell you I love you,” you tell him with a little smile, “There’s no going back to the way things were before you.”

“The idea of having anything else but this,” he trails off for a second, weighing his words and reaching out for you with his free hand. He cups the back of your knee to pull your leg over his naked body, “It’s just not in the cards for me. I’ll never love anyone the way that I love you.”

“Is this code for you’re stuck with me?” You crawl closer to kiss him on the mouth and tighten the leg around him, “Hm?”

“Sí (yes), you’re stuck with me, baby,” he says against your lips.

“Do you promise that?” You whisper after pulling back a little, smiling softly as you look down at his mouth. He initiates another kiss after nodding.

You kiss for a while without rushing it, deeply until you share each breath in your intense embrace. Despite just having had sex with him fifteen minutes ago, you want him again in a way that has him as hard as when you first got together. He fucks you open slowly with you on your back, makes you come on his cock with an almost pained tone in your whimper. He is everywhere on you, soaking you in love. The way he gasps along with you as he comes inside of you has your heart pounding in your chest.

“No quiero a nadie más que a ti (I don’t want anyone else other than you),” he says when basking in the afterglow. However, you have already gotten out of bed to get cleaned up in the bathroom. In contrast to your husband, your afterglow is replaced by anxiety that you have just promised isn’t there.

“I don’t want to end up like that,” you say while peeing with the door open. Javier moves on the bed to be able to look at you.

“We won’t, te lo prometo (I promise you that),” he is quick to answer. You try to give him a smile but he notices the way you falter, “Anything you want to talk about? Anything on your mind?"

“They used to be so happy,” you sigh deeply and get up after finishing your business. You move to the sink and start washing your hands, your back suddenly towards him, “Makes me wonder if we're strong enough to weather anything.”

You hear the weight of him shift on the mattress and a second later, the soft pads of his feet across the tiled bathroom floor. He is behind you, looking at you in the mirror. You feel grateful for the sincerity in his eyes.

“Baby,” he tuts, wrapping his strong arms around you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder. One of his hands goes down to lay on your stomach right below your belly button. You have just started to show, and the both of you have already talked about how early it is that your belly has started protruding but none of you have any clue why yet as you haven’t had your first scan.

Javier kisses your bare shoulder, “This is my life, and I love it, and I would never hurt you… I trust you not to hurt me too.”

You silently turn off the tap to dry your hands but Javier doesn’t let you move. He lifts your chin so he can stare at you in the mirror, “I need you to trust me when I say that ten years with you have only made me want ten, twenty, thirty more. I love you. I choose you every day. Jonathan and Mira didn’t choose each other. We’re not them.”

“I love you too,” you shake your hands dry instead and then turn in your husband’s arms. You hug him close and he walks you out of the bathroom whilst still holding you tightly.

“Three kids so far,” he reminds you whilst guiding you back to bed, “A decade down the line. We must be doing something right.”

“But what if—“

“You worry too much, mi vida (my life),” he says and smacks your ass as you crawl back into your bed. You glare back at him but he just snickers while crawling in too, “Get comfortable and go to sleep.”

“I don’t know if I can,” you say truthfully.

“Of course, you can,” Javier joins you under the covers. He lays down close to you and without saying a word, reaches out to gently and repeatedly stroke his hand over your hair. The warmth of his palm soothes your worry, each caress easing away the weight in your chest.

You wonder if Mira left because Jonathan didn’t do this sort of thing anymore. Javier has done it for ten years. This fact makes sleep find you easily.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

432 notes · View notes

ashtxrie · 9 months ago

Text

oh no... am i falling in love? (sunoo)

PAIR. high school!sunoo x gn!reader GENRE. fake dating au, high school au, best friends to lovers, fluff WORD COUNT. 2.2k WARNINGS. none! NOTES. first post kinda nervous!! <//3 i need a sunoo irl he is truly the greenest of green flags

you and sunoo are those friends

you’ve got that type of friendship where something clicked and suddenly you were both attached at the hip for years

because apparently having the same clear muji pencil case with the holy grail 0.5 black muji pen at the beginning of middle school meant best friends ride or die in seventh-grade culture

like, someone who prioritized aesthetics in notetaking as much as you did? even in the confines of this crusty campus? crazy.

but anyway, with you being absolutely intent on making friends, sunoo couldn’t get rid of you if he tried but pls he could never survive without you anyway... who else would he trust enough to exchange his top-tier notes with?

and since then you’ve both been best friends for life! well, ever since the +6 with the introduction of sunoo's other friends [read: the rest of enhypen...]

and at first you were super happy because new friends!

but then they kind of stopped hanging out with you in the middle of sophomore year or so and went off into their own little world

and you were a little sad

ok maybe a lot sad. devastated, even.

but that was okay because that meant you were able to meet new friends and expand your horizons! you even got the chance to focus on yourself and join some new clubs, too!

who even is sunoo anymore lmao you don’t know him

but anyway

it was junior year and you were so tired of your friends bugging you to get a s/o

“[name], why don’t you date someone?”

“you’d really hit it off with so and so, don’t you think?”

“just put yourself out there”

ರ_ರ

ayo... excuse me

so one day you just can’t take it anymore

and maybe you should’ve thought this through but... nope

you don’t pause to think things through

because life is for living in the moment hell yes yolo gang

“umm guys i’m already dating someone!”

needless to say your friends go INSANE

like who tf is [name] gatekeeping from us they’re so fake /j

so like any sane and mentally adept person, you say the first name that comes to mind

“hahaha … sunoo!”

your friends stare at you. flabbergasted, shocked, stunned beyond words.

blink blink

“but … weren’t you guys just friends”

“NO”

you’re panicking but

trust

“we’re in LOVE”

ur friends are really like ok whatever, but go off

and that is how you find yourself dragging yourself over to sunoo's fifth period and placing your hands on sunoo's shoulders

“promise me you won’t freak out”

and ofc sunoo is already freaking out

bc why are you standing in front of the ap lang classroom with this crazily determined face and forcing him to listen to you

and this is how you get into this situation

with sunoo having a literal double take and you doing your best "pls help me out i beg of you" impression

“i can’t DATE you”

what

you give sunoo your best professional face even though inside you’re ???

bc um is it that bad to date you??

you are confused???

you’ve saved sunoo thousands of times in his high school career in both academics and social standing he can afford to pretend to date you ONCE

“WHY NOT”

“BECAUSE”

...

is he being fr rn

obviously you’re not getting anywhere and you turn around to walk away, kind of annoyed

“fine then, i’ll just find someone else to date me.” shrug (dies inside).

as soon as you say that, it’s like you’ve flipped a switch and suddenly sunoo is very concerned and almost a little upset

and when you don’t notice him contemplating something, he runs in front of you and nearly knocks you over

“second thoughts?”

sunoo scowls

although it looks more like a lil pout pushing at his lips and he crosses his arms

lmao who is this and what’s happened to sunoo

you shrug and start to leave for real until sunoo reaches out to tug at your arm

“NO, NO WAIT … I’LL DO IT”

you whirl around immediately and you are needless to say, very relieved!

｡◕‿◕｡

“perfect!”

but apparently sunoo hasn’t recovered from his fall from before

bc he can’t stop rubbing his hand against his neck and his face is all blotchy and pink

kinda cute, but in a best friends way. like wowie my best friend looks kinda adorable look at that boy go

but ofc sunoo has to ruin the special moment because he offhandedly says, “shouldn’t we have rules or something?”

rules???

RULES???

this is fake dating sunoo wdyfm rules? that's so silly goofy

“huh?”

“like … things not to do? maybe one big rule is not ruining our friendship???”

ʘ‿ʘ

he kinda smart for that

“ok easy then, just don’t fall in love with me”

apparently this is the WRONG thing to say?

sunoo is RED like boy is not pink anymore his cheeks are burning red

“you can’t just say that?”

????

you are confused bc what does that even mean

“why not?”

“that’s like ... y-you you can’t just say that.”

you are, if possible, even more confused?

“okay and?”

sunoo blinks

pls this boy has the audacity to just shrug

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN

u are dumb af sunoo bout to throw hands here

but he won’t bc he loves u <3

so fifteen minutes later you guys decide to make three big rules

sunoo had a whole list of like twenty but you narrowed it down to these:

1. don’t ruin ur friendship

2. no kissing

3. and ur paying for three rounds of mint choco ice cream after this is over

honestly you think this is kinda rude considering sunoo is richer than ur entire life but whatever, at least he’s not leaving you out to the wolves

so when it’s finally time to put this fake dating thing to the test, you tug sunoo over to your side of the table during lunch and make sure to swing his hand

which actually feels kind of nice??

like you’ve never actually thought about this before

but sunoo is comforting

his hand fits right in yours, and he’s so warm

and i mean haha it’s not like this is a new thing, you two hold hands all the time!! but adjkaldjkfl not in a dating way

ur friends are shocked. bamboozled.

like they never thought you’d actually show up with a DATE

and bc they’re all RUDE they grill sunoo

but sunoo is best boy

best bf

and answers all their questions like a pro

that's my man

i mean what???

ur so proud

you let ur head rest against sunoo's shoulder and BITCH

sunoo presses a kiss to ur forehead

YO........................ insane.

why are u so happy? what is this??

it’s just so gentle and soft and you feel your heart getting all mushy and warm

your friends all give a big collective aww because one, they’re annoying af and yes y’all are cute cute and this is cute

but ur going through some existential crisis

and later when you’re walking with sunoo to all your classes, you can’t stop thinking that hey, this fakedating thing isn’t that bad

but whatever it’s just cause u miss spending time with sunoo!

yes, that’s it!

you’re just sad that sunoo always hangs out with his new group and you don’t get to see him as much

so this is nice!

you’re just going through some bff nostalgia rn... it's just gonna take some time for [name].exe to start working again

anyway now bc of this fakedating thing, you and sunoo just spend so much time together

like you guys have always been best friends, but this feels different

sunoo will run over to you when he sees you and wrap his arms around your waist

the first time he did it, he had the cuteness to go “is this okay? are you okay? is this too much?"

and YOUR HEART WENT !!!!!

you might’ve blushed

okay you did

but you convince yourself it’s just because ur touch starved and bitchless

c’mon... get it together

but whenever you call sunoo and wave at him, his face just LIGHTS up

and you’re pretty sure yours does too

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *ヽ(◕ヮ◕ヽ)

needless to say, you kinda don’t want this all to end

because somewhere in the middle of all this, your head has gone from calling sunoo your fake boyfriend to your real boyfriend

and you don’t really want to go back to just being friends if you’re honest

wait hold up

uh oh

UH OH CODE RED

INTERPOL INTERPOL.....

did you just admit you liked sunoo?? in a FOR REALS way?

UMMMMM

so like the only way you know how to deal with things, you avoid it!

you start to act really distant

and now whenever sunoo wraps his arms around you, you stiffen up

and sunoo like the angel he is pulls away so quickly bc ?? is his best friend upset? uncomfortable?

did HE make his best friend for life, his 4lifer, uncomfortable? omg this isn’t ok what is happening

everyone can tell something is up

ofc they can, what with you going to the extent of running away whenever you see sunoo and sunoo reacting like the entire light got blown out his life

and bffr sunoo may be innocent but he ISN'T dumb

he knows your schedule he KNOWS you’re ignoring him

and baby is upset

because lately you’ve been starting to feel a lot more to him

and now you’re just gone??

that’s not okay and sunoo isn’t just gonna sit around and be sad

if there’s something he can do he’s gonna do all he can to try to fix it!

he corners you one day and holds up an angry piece of paper

“excuse me but you broke rule number one which is, in case you forgot, don’t RUIN OUR FRIENDSHIP”

“oh haha uh sunoo! hi uhh i gotta go 👉👉 ”

sunoo's face falls

and that was it

you just wanna hold his cheeks and tell him things are fine and that you love him

wait WHAT

but sunoo is still staring at you with that wounded look

like you’ve just ripped up his heart and torn it to shreds

bc that’s kinda what you’re doing

omg what’ve you done

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE

“sunoo…”

his eyes lock onto yours so fast that you’re afraid he’s got whiplash

your mouth goes dry, and for a few moments it’s hard to talk

but you finally manage to tell him that “i don’t think we should fake date anymore.”

sunoo's face breaks

his eyes go wide, and it looks like he wants to stagger. and he almost does, just a little bit

“is it something i did?”

WHAT

this boy

kim sunoo is really gonna be the death of you

you’re shaking your head back and forth so fast because NO of course not of course this isn’t his fault

sunoo is Not Okay, and he looks so, so concerned for you. “because i swear i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. if i screwed up just tell me and i can fix it, [name], please”

you shake ur head, already starting to panic. “of course not. it’s not YOU sunoo. i just can’t fake date you because--”

you clamp your hands over your mouth

“because?” sunoo prompts, his voice careful

you just shake your head, already starting to turn and run back to somewhere, anywhere because this is stupid and you’re scared

terrified, actually

but sunoo just takes your hand and tugs you backward a bit, almost like a scene from a movie

you do that little twirl back and are face to face with the one and only

“do you … do you like me?” sunoo asks

that’s it

it’s out

you’re ready for your entire friendship with sunoo to come crashing down

“do you?” he repeats softly

you try to pull away but sunoo isn’t having it

he’s still holding onto your hand, gently, of course, and his eyes are boring into yours

you’re too scared to look because you’re afraid of what you’ll find

but when you can’t take it anymore and finally tilt your head up you realize something important

because his eyes aren’t full of disgust

in fact, that’s further from the truth

kim sunoo is staring at you with the biggest heart eyes you’ve ever seen and you’re confused as to how you’ve never seen this sooner

it’s almost like you’re his whole world, and now you can’t fucking breathe

is this real? chat is this fr rn??

your heart’s pounding in your chest so fast and there’s something bursting at your lungs

you nod faintly. “yes. i like you”

the huge grin that spreads across sunoo's face is everything

he rushes forward to pull you into a gigantic hug, even lifting you up a little as he spins you around and lets out a little happy noise

“i’ve liked you forever, [name], i can’t believe this is real”

what

so u could’ve been dating sunoo before??

“you dork why didn’t you tell me?”

“because you didn’t like me like that!”

BITCH WHAT

“well maybe i was confused” you pipe back

sunoo just laughs, burying his head in your shoulder. “i’m so happy right now.”

and honestly ?

so are you !!

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen blurbs #enhypen fic #enhypen sunoo #kim sunoo #sunoo #sunoo x reader #sunoo imagines #sunoo fluff #sunoo fic #sunoo soft hours #ashtxrie #— ash writes!

431 notes · View notes

getosbigballsack · 1 year ago

Text

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑹𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒆 𝑻𝒂𝒑𝒆

𝑮𝒐𝒋𝒐 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒖 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝑮𝒆𝒕𝒐 𝑺𝒖𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒖

𝑺𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔: 𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒖𝒔𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒆'𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒔𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆. 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒃𝒂𝒅𝒍𝒚 𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒈𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒊𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒆𝒘𝒔.

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒔𝒉 𝒂𝒔𝒔 𝒉𝒖𝒔𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒅, 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇. 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒖𝒆𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏. 𝑻𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆, 𝒖𝒏𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒆𝒙, 𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒐 𝒕𝒂𝒑𝒆𝒔, 𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝒔𝒆𝒙, 𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒔𝒆𝒙... 𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒖 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕

𝑨/𝑵: 𝒚𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒅𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚. 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈: @venussyy and @legbouk.

𝑮𝒆𝒕𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑮𝒐𝒋𝒐'𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆��

𝑾𝑪: 9.7𝑲

𝑬𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚❤︎

It’s embarrassing, to say the least. But a part of you should have at least expected something like this from the man to whom you decided to give your whole heart and devote the rest of your life.

He hated you. He loathed you. He told you that you’re useless. He told you that he regretted marrying a barren woman. So what sense does it make if you cry now? Crying won’t change a damn thing. Why are you wasting your tears on someone who cared little for your existence?

Oh! That’s right, the answer is simple, you loved him, and despite all that he had done to you, all the unforgiving nasty words he spouted to you daily. You loved him because he was all you had when you decided to leave your family in the States, just to have a fresh and new start in life. He took care of you and helped you complete your college degree in law all in exchange for being his beautiful wife who would bear him children in the near coming future.

Yeah! You owed him that much.

But sadly you weren’t able to give him all that he wanted from you. You were his wife yes, but a mother of his children? No, you failed to give him a child despite being pregnant by him a couple of times. Yeah, life just decided that it wanted to LIFE and took your kids away.

No one could have prepared you for the multiple miscarriages that you had and even worse when you found out that you had fibroids (uterine myoma). You were devastated to know that the reason you were unable to have kids was that you had a tumor that had been growing inside of you.

Life is just so funny at times. But anyway. Despite all of that being bad news, you were able to do surgery to have that fibroid removed and you were happy that you were able to have children again. But happy moments don’t always last forever.

Ha! Life took its turn to be cruel to you and somehow you had to be diagnosed with Ovarian Cancer. Yeah, what a fucking life you had. So now you had to get all your eggs removed and as a result of that, you were unable to have kids.

We all know what happened after that right? You fell into depression, you felt as if you had nothing else to give because not only did you fail as a woman, you failed as a wife as well. And your husband made that statement pretty clear to you.

Because once he found out that you weren’t going to be able to have kids, his attitude toward you changed. And instead of loving you, consoling you, and assuring you that what happened to you wasn’t your fault, he made it a daily mission to remind you that you were useless to him.

He made it his duty to remind you that you were a failure.

He made it his goal to remind you that you only had one job to do to repay him for all he had done for you, and you failed.

You failed him as a wife.

You failed him as a woman.

You failed to become the mother of his children.

The children that you never had. Yeah, he blamed you for that too. He blamed you for all your miscarriages, he told you that you killed his kids. Such shame. You’re lucky he never served you with divorce papers. Wow!

As a result of this, he distanced himself from you and buried himself in work just to stay away from you. And despite how badly you were hurting, you still cared for this man.

You still managed to play your part as his wife and smile throughout the pain just to show him that you still appreciated all that he had done for you.

That’s all you can do, accept his cruelty and show your appreciation hoping that one day, things or life would be better for you. But instead of getting better, it got worse because now you had to sit in front of the television inside the new apartment complex you moved into a few months ago, watching something that will forever haunt you for the day to come.

“Now for today’s hot topic. District Attorney Saijo Takeda was Caught having sex with a stripper inside xxx strip and it is said that he allegedly got this stripper pregnant. WOW! Who would have thought that the self-proclaimed family man who does something so scandalous and distaste behind his wife’s back? I feel so bad for Saijo Y/N.”

Life just kept getting worse for you.

…

“How could you do this to me?” you screamed at your husband who was just sitting around the kitchen bar swirling the whiskey around in his cup. “You cheated on me and got a stripper pregnant?”

He scoffed, “So what if I did that hm? What if cheated and got another woman pregnant? How is that any of your business?”

“It’s my business because I am your wife, Takeda. I’m your wife.” you cried. You could feel the slight sting in your chest, your heart aching and tearing up inside from all the regret and betrayal that you’re feeling.

“Whatever,” he responded, not caring if your cheeks were flustered, eyes swelled from the number of tears you cried, and how much your lips trembled. He turned his back to you and continued to sip on his whiskey.

You were in pain. “I know you hate me. But you didn’t need to do this to me. After all that I’ve been through. Losing all four of our kids and having to carry that burden on my own. I don’t deserve this.”

“And whose fault is it?” your husband screamed, tossing the empty cup towards you and it shattered at your bare feet. “Who’s damn fault, is it? You killed all four of my unborn children with that useless body of yours.”

“I’m not useless,” you cried. “I’m not useless. I don’t deserve this. I tried my best.”

“Oh for fuck sake,” he chuckled as he stood up from around the kitchen island and walked towards you. “You useless fucking bitch. You tried your best my ass. You know, instead of complaining, you should be happy you know.”

“What?”

“Yeah, you should be happy that I finally found someone capable enough to give me a child,” he said, smiling down at you. Your lips quivered as you stared up into his unremorseful eyes. “Unlike a certain someone.”

“Don’t say that to me,” you whimpered, your voice trembling as you spoke. “I don’t deserve to be treated like this Tak…”

“Shut up. It’s your fault I cheated and there’s no taking it back now hm?” He said before lifting his hand to pat your flustered cheek. “Now clean this up. Have dinner ready by the time I come back and while you’re at it, I suggest you read a couple of articles online on how to care for a pregnant woman. I have a baby on the way,” and with that said he left.

He left you standing there with your thoughts and his final words. It was then you knew that your husband truly hated you. He cheated on and did not have one ounce of guilt in him. And then he dared to blame his infidelity on you and lastly, he told you that you were going to have to take care of that woman he got pregnant.

You felt defeated and so small. You were done, life had finally won. It took everything that you had.

“Why me?” you cried as you bent down to pick up the broken glasses from the floor. “I don’t deserve this.”

Meanwhile,

Your neighbors who heard the entire argument sighed heavily as they walked out of the bedroom and into the living room.

“Bastard,” The youngest of the pair mumbled as he sat on the sofa and ran his thick fingers through his long black mane. “Damning Bastard. How dare he cheat on his wife and then blame it all on her.”

“He has no shame! He has a whole ass sex tape out in the public and he got a stripper pregnant. Shameless bastard.” The eldest one of the pair cursed as he took his place on the sofa as well. “I just want to slap the holy fuck out of him.”

“I want to cut his dick off and maybe pluck his eyes out because it seems as if he had no use for it.”

“Sugu?”

“What, Satoru?” he asked. His friend gave him a knowing look and he sighed. “Whatever.”

“Do you think we should call her?” the eldest one asked.

“No,” the youngest said while shaking his head. “Give her a bit of space. The last thing she needs right now is for her neighbors to see her like that. You know how Y/N is.”

“You’re right. Well if she needs us she’ll call us right?”

“Maybe,” Geto said. Just then he heard his phone ringing on the coffee table and when they both looked they saw your name flashing on the screen. “I guess she needs us then.”

“Answer it!” Gojo said and Geto did. “Hello?”

“Suguru-Kun, can you and Satoru-kun come over, please? I need you.”

…

Geto Suguru: 22 years of age. He’s quiet and a bit shy. Then there’s Gojo Satoru: 23 years of age. He’s a bit loud and he’s a great listener.

You may be wondering what the relationship is between Gojo, Geto, and Y/N-chan. Well, there isn’t too much to say about how you met because the meeting wasn’t anything special. You just happened to run into them a week after you moved into your new apartment. You just happened to be struggling with the groceries that day and they just happened to be coming home from school to see you struggling to take the bags out of the trunk while your husband sat in the driver’s seat impatiently waiting for you to hurry up.

They realized that you needed help and offered it to you. You took it and promised that you’d pay them back one day and eventually, you did.

You just happened to cook a meal for you and your husband that day, but instead of coming home, he told you that he had a business dinner and he wouldn’t be home until the morning. You remembered sighing heavily that day because you were feeling a bit sad and you honestly did not want to eat alone. So you invited them over to have dinner with you and let’s just say you three became extremely close.

They’d come over to keep you company when your husband’s not home. They would offer to take you out to the supermarket to help with groceries on the weekend. They’d comfort you whenever you argued with your husband. They were just there when you needed someone to be there for you. And as the months past you three have gotten so close, you’ve kinda started to feel a bit needy whenever they were in your presence. But you didn’t think too much about it because you were married. Sure they were young, hot, and very much good looking, but you’re a whole married woman.

You loved your husband despite him hating you.

You didn’t want to betray him, even as your desires for them grew stronger for them. You loved your husband. But now, betraying him doesn’t seem like a bad idea.

…

After answering your call, Geto and Gojo rushed inside your flat to provide you with the comfort you required. You threw yourself into Geto's arms as soon as they entered your apartment, crying your heart out against his chest. Geto wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a tight hug before lifting you in his arms and walking to the sofa, with Gojo close behind.

“I just can’t believe that he would do something like this to me,” you cried against Geto’s shoulder as he held your frail and worn-out body in his lap. “I… Can’t believe it. I tried my best Suguru-Kun. I’ve done nothing but be right by him. But no… my best is not enough. In his eyes, I’m nothing but a worthless woman and maybe I am.”

“Don’t say that about yourself Y/N,” Gojo hushed in a soft tone as he edged closer to Geto and rested his hand on your back in an attempt to comfort you.

“But he's right!,” you screamed against Geto’s shoulders.

"And I'm telling you that he isn't," Gojo stated, moving his hand away from your back and pulling your head away from Geto's shoulder to look you in the eyes. "Your husband is a worthless piece of garbage. He cheated on you."

They both watched as tears streamed down your puffy flushed cheeks and your lips quivered as you said, "But I'm the reason he cheated. He wouldn't have cheated on me if I could become pregnant."

“Y/N?”

"He cheated on me because I murdered our children. I killed our babies," you squealed, collapsing onto Geto's shoulders. "He's right! With this useless body of mine, I killed all four of our unborn children. If I could only..."

“Enough!” Geto eventually said something. He hadn't said anything since you pushed yourself into his arms. He believed it would be best to remain silent while you sobbed, but he couldn't stand hearing you talk so badly of yourself any longer. He'd had enough of it. “What a fucking dickward!” he cursed.

“Bastard!,” Gojo mumbled.

"For someone smart, he's much dumber than I think. Allow me to tell you something. It is not your fault if you lost your children. It's not your fault you can't have children anymore," Geto murmured, pulling you away from his shoulders. “You didn’t ask for any of that did you? Instead of blaming you for all your miscarriages Y/N, he should be thankful that his wife survived cancer."

Oh, yeah they knew about this. You've told them about it.

"Exactly! So what if you're not able to have children anymore? It doesn't make you any less of a woman," Gojo butted in. "Besides, if he wanted a child so badly, I'm pretty sure they're plenty of adoption centers here. And if it is that he wanted to have a blood-related child then maybe he could have had a conversation with you about getting a surrogate instead of going behind your back and getting another woman pregnant."

"He's an ass Y/N and clearly he doesn't understand that what he's doing to you is cruel. I agree with you, you've done your best and your best is enough," Geto said smiling before using his thumb to wipe the tear away from your cheek.

"But it's not enough for him," you whispered.

"And who fucking cares?" Gojo asked. "All that matters is that you've done your best. It might not be enough for him but it is for us and for anyone who saw that you tried your best. Four times is enough and I'm here to tell you that you did a good job trying."

Somehow you managed to crack a smile.

"You're beautiful Y/N. Your husband doesn't even know how lucky he is to score a beautiful woman like you," Geto whispered as he pulled you into a tight hug. "He doesn't deserve you."

"Agreed!" Gojo whispered. You both sat down in silence for a while until Gojo spoke up. "You should divorce him. You don't need trash like him in your life anyway. You deserve someone who has nothing but sweet words to whisper in your ear."

"You deserve someone who will hold you in their arms," Geto chimed in. "You deserve a man who'd respect you and treat you with nothing but kindness."

"You don't need a man who dares to embarrass you like that. The bastard has no fucking shame. He has a whole sex tape and got a woman pregnant. Divorce that shameless bastard."

"You deserve to be treated like a queen. Satoru is right, you should divorce."

It's true, you knew that that was the best option, but you knew who your husband was.

"If only getting a divorce was that easy," you said in a soft tone. "My husband is the one who took care of me all these years. I don't have money to get an attorney for a divorce."

Gojo and Geto sighed heavily before exchanging glances.

"Besides, even if I had money to get a divorce it probably wouldn't be in my favour. Please remember that my husband's pretty famous and even though he's trash I'm pretty sure his attorney would back him up to the very end. He would win the case and I would lose everything," you said, sighing heavily as you laid your head against Geto's chest. "I just wish my life were easy."

There was a long moment of silence; both Geto and Gojo were deep in their thoughts just thinking about what you just said about your husband and getting a divorce. They knew that getting a divorce won't be easy.

Getting a lawyer to help you file a complaint against your husband will be simple for Gojo, but he also understood that what you claimed was accurate. Even yet, your husband would find a way to triumph. If only everything were that simple. I wish it were that.

"Wait Y/N, I think I know how I can help you with your divorce," Gojo said as a smile slowly crept up on his face.

"Really?" You asked.

"Yeah. You may not like the idea but it's probably our best shot. And it'll be fun for you, Sugu, and myself," Gojo explained before turning to look at Geto once again.

"I wanna hear it then."

"Let's make a sex tape."

…

A sex tape of your own. That was Gojo's idea. You were a bit upset that he suggested that created a sex tape to get back at your husband. You didn't want to follow in his footsteps, but when Gojo sat down and explained himself to you, you started to figure out why making that tape made sense to him. He even went as far as to explain that if you went along with the sex tape, he’d take care of everything that happens after he passed the tape on to your husband.

Plus he admits that he wanted to be with you for a while. He told you that he always wanted to have sex with you, especially when you accidentally told both of them that your husband hadn't had sex with you in a while.

Geto also admits that he too wanted to be inside of you, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to make that move because we'll you're married.

You were shocked, to say the least, but you weren't that much better than them. You too had desires to be with them.

Anyways, you still didn't like the idea of sex, but after thinking it through… you agreed to it and that's how you ended up here naked on your bed with a camera filming you three having the most amazing sex ever.

Present Timeline.

Their hands felt hot and warm against your skin. Calloused hands roughly groping your breast and your butt; their lips hungrily biting and sucking against your skin while just laying there with lips slightly parted and your eyes staring dead at the camera.

You allowed a soft moan to escape your lips when Gojo bit onto your perky nipple - his warm and wet tongue licking around your areola while his finger slowly crept down and rested above your pussy.

“Shit,” you whispered, your head turning slightly to see Geto smiling at you while he slowly untied the string of his sweatpants.

“What are you looking at?” he asked as he slowly pulled down the waist of his sweats and underpants to free his aching cock. He watched as your eyes slowly averted their gaze from his eyes and to his cock. “Hm?”

“She’s excited Su!” Gojo said before pulling away from your nipple and slowly kissing his way up to your lips. “She hadn’t gotten any dick in months. You must be excited not to be only getting one but two. Isn’t that right, pretty mama?”

You bit your lips and batted your eyes at him before shaking your head yes. He chuckled and teased your lips with light kisses that were driving you mad. “Satoru-Kun, please kiss me,” you begged.

You could feel his hot breath on your lips as he laughed at you for begging him to kiss you. But you're adorable, and adorable females deserve to be adored. With that said, his lips fell on yours, kissing you slowly and passionately. His lips slid between yours as if they were intended for each other, slowly sucking out every last breath you had until you were left with none.

His kisses were so intense that it felt as though he wanted you and him to be closer, sharing a single breath and drifting away into everlasting bliss. Your cheeks began to feel a bit heated as his tongue slipped between your lips to caress your tongue with his. Fuck! That felt fantastic, you thought as you drew away from his lips, tilted your head in another direction, and swiftly latched your lips on his again, allowing his tongue to brush the inside of your mouth in a delectable and thrilling manner.

“Mhm… I’m getting jealous,” Geto whispered into your ears. You didn’t even feel him switch from his seated position until his fingers were under your chin, slowly pulling your lips away from Gojo's lips and then turning your head towards his. “I want to kiss your sexy lips too,” he whispered before roughly capturing your lips. Unlike Gojo, it felt as if Geto wanted to own your lips and claim them in every way possible.

With your mouth open, his tongue slipped into your mouth; his tongue hungrily exploring what you had to offer him. Your hand flew up to grip his long, silky-smooth black hair between your fingers to keep him pressed against your lips. Your tongues sparred back and forth like wrestlers, but he was quick to dominate you, overpower you with his rough, yet passionate kiss.

Your body felt hot all over and God, you loved that feeling. On the other hand, as you continued to kiss Geto, Gojo busied his lips on your body. His mouth leaves butterfly kisses on your neck, your chest, around your breast, then slowly moving down to your tummy until his mouth was directly on your pussy.

“Fuck it,” he said as he grabbed your legs spread them apart, and went to lay between them. He then tossed both legs over his shoulders and licked his lips while he lined his face up with your cunt. “You gotta keep that pretty mouth of hers full while I eat her out Su!”

“Don’t worry about that,” Geto said in between kissing your lips. “Just do what you do best.” Gojo chuckled a bit while he kissed both your thighs before his tongue laid flat on your clit, moaning out loud from how good your pussy tasted. “Taste good Toru?”

“So fucking good,” he mumbled against your cunt. Gojo’s tongue swiftly licked your cunt, as he wrapped his arms around your legs to keep you steady as he prepared himself to feast upon you, the woman he had his eyes on for a while. “Too bad her husband won’t get to taste you anymore hm?”

“Once he sees how much of a good girl you are for us, he’ll probably have to ask us to fuck you again,” Geto whispered as he pulled away from your lips, trail kisses down your neck, and onto your breast to suck on your pretty boobs.

Meanwhile, Gojo's tongue dragged between your folds, collecting your secretions on his tongue as he moved his tongue fast on your cunt before grasping your clit in his mouth. "Mh mm feel so good," you cried as your hand reached out to play with Gojo's hair, and he hummed in response to your compliment.

The sound of Gojo eating your pussy was so lewd, but you couldn't help but listen as his tongue gilded against your moist cunt, or as his mouth sucked on your sensitive clit that was beginning to swell in his mouth. He sounded like a hungry man who was eager to feast on you.

You tried to ride your pussy on his face, but the grips he had on your thighs kept you in place as his mouth and tongue mapped out your pussy, memorising your sweet folds and engraving it within his memory.

“Looks like you're having too much fun with Toru, sweety,” Geto whispered in your ear before grabbing your chin with his rough hand and turning your face towards him. “I wanna have some fun too.”

“What… Do you want… ugh me to do?” you moaned out at the feeling of Gojo’s wicked tongue finding itself buried deeply inside your hole.

“Open your mouth,” is all Geto said before sitting up on his knees, grabbing his dick, and giving it a few pumps before pressing the angry red leaking tip on your lips. “Open up and suck it for me, like the good girl we know you are.”

Who are you to disobey him? After all these past few moments he treated you better than your husband ever did. So this is the least you could do for him. So you opened up your mouth for him and allowed him to thrust his thick heavy cock inside your hot little mouth.

“Fuck, Geto hissed and tossed his back; his hand finding purchase at the back of your head to keep you steady while he gently rocked his hip to move his cock in and out of your mouth. “Yeah, that’s what the fuck I’m talking about.”

Gojo's lips quickly detached from your cunt, but his fingers took their place, plunging deeply inside your cunt to keep that sensation he built up with his mouth going. “I wanna fucking see this,” Gojo said, a smirk dancing on his lips as he stared at your pretty mouth stretching so beautifully around Geto’s dick. “As sweet as your pussy is, I wanna see you choke on a big fucking dick.”

You hummed around his cock as he continued to thrust his hips in and out of your mouth, watching as your throat slowly expanded to take as much of his cock as possible. He was fucking huge, and your jaw started to ache from how much he was stretching your mouth open. You tried to pull away, but the grip he had in your hair kept you in place, Ain’t no freaking way, you were about to lift your head from his cock.

“No… no, bad mama,” Gojo said before pulling out his finger to pinch your clit. “Be a good girl yeah, and let him use your throat,” then he thrust his finger back inside your cunt and began applying pressure to your freaking g-spot.

Geto on the other hand was over to fucking moon, his head filling up with pleasure that he was receiving from your mouth. “So fucking beautiful. You sucking my cock so well.”

“Mhm,” you moaned around his length when you feel his cock stretching your mouth even impossibly wider. Your eyes began to roll to the back of your head once more, and tears began to flow from them. His low groans and gentle moans told you how lost he was in pleasure as he used your lips to lubricate his cock.

"Put your tongue out," he urged, removing his cock from your mouth. You opened your mouth for him blindly and put your tongue out. "Just like that," he murmured as he touched his cock on your mouth and saw saliva drip from the tip of your tongue. He rubbed his cock against your tongue before pushing your head forward and shoving his balls inside your mouth.

You sucked long, forceful lips on his massive sack, muttering. Your tongue crept up carefully, licking the line between his balls. "Fuck, baby," he murmured as he pumped his cock and watched you suck on his balls beautifully.

“Your so beautiful mama,” Gojo whispered as he continued to soak in the sight in front of him as he continued to stretch you open with his fingers. His mouth watered, penis twitching beneath his underpants as he watched how your tongue worked itself on the underside of Geto’s cock. Giggling whenever he hears those gurgling choking sounds spewing from your mouth. “So fucking beautiful with Su’s cock stuffed inside your mouth.

A choking gasp from your lips before you began to gag hard around Geto's cock as his hips sped to piston his cock deep into your throat. Each time he drew out and shoved back into your mouth, his thrust became rougher. He sighed as he looked down at you, seeing your iris roll to the back of your head. Only your sclera was visible to your eyes.

His cock twitched violently inside your mouth, and he felt his ball tighten. He was almost there, but not quite there yet. Not until tonight, when they had you cumming from their cocks. So he quickly withdrew his cock out of your mouth and watched as saliva escaped from your mouth and formed a tiny puddle on his lap.

Your eyes widened and you were desperately grasping for air at the feeling of Gojo’s fingers thrusting even faster than he was before. “Oh fuck… oh fuck,” you cried.

"Gonna make you cum before I fuck you," Gojo whispered as your pussy wrapped around his fingers. They weren't as thick, but they were long enough to feel deep inside your stomach. Gojo suddenly thumbed at your pussy clit while inserting another finger into your gaping hole. Your body stiffened, with heat and pressure filling the pit of your tummy. "You gonna cum for me, mama?" He inquired as his thumb circled your clit at an undeniable speed.

Your arousal began to flow down his hands. Your stomach began to burn and strain against the increasing pressure and heat. Your orgasm is just waiting to let loose.

“Fuck, Imma cum” you screamed as your pussy gripped tightly onto his fingers.

"Let me have it!" The low pitch of Gojo's voice was all the encouragement you needed. Your climax was approaching. You yelled, your body gripped, painfully arching your back from Geto's lap and slumping back on his shoulders. "Oh fuck... look at that slutty pussy squirt for me," Gojo cooed as he watched the translucent liquid spurt from your pussy. He then removed his fingers from your cunt, laid on his tummy yet again, and started sucking on your clit to make you squirt a little more.

Your thighs were shaking like crazy beside his head, fingers digging into the mattress and somehow on Geto’s thighs. You’ve never felt this freaking good before, your body felt like it was floating into an eternal bliss of euphoria, ain’t no way you could look to your cheating husband for sex.

“Mhm… fuck gonna squirt all over his face baby?” Geto teased, his fingers finding leverage on your nipples. Your head nodded, unable to form a coherent sentence from your mouth due to your mind being numb with pleasure.

Gojo chuckled against your pussy, his fingers pumping inside your pulsating hole once more. “More,” he muttered against your wet flesh. “More…. Give me… oh shit,” he quickly pulled his head away from your cunt. “Yes… I bet your hubby can’t make you squirt like we do huh?” Gojo chuckled as you squirted all over his chest. He pulled his finger from your cunt yet again, and he unexpectedly slapped your clit, not once, not twice but three times before pulling back to look at his fingers that were coated with your pussy juice.

“You're so sexy. Cumming for us like that, all slutty over Toru’s fingers” Geto muttered before leaning forward to kiss your lips. A chuckle escaped Gojo's lips as he licked his fingers clean as his other hand quickly removed his underpants. Geto, on the other hand, drew you up off his lap and pressed your back against his chest. He then grabbed both of your legs, spread them wide, and forced your knees against your chest.

You gulped as you watched as Gojo ran his fingers through his hair. He gently stroked his cock as he stared down at your dripping, aching cunt and whispered, “You gonna be a good girl and take this cock mama.”

“Come on, Satoru! Can’t you see how much her naughty pussy is clenching and dripping with her arousal, just waiting for you to fuck her?” Geto asked as he stared down at your pretty pussy. “Don’t keep our baby waiting, Toru.”

And with that said he wasted no time, moving closer to you held on to the back of your left knee before slowly plunging his aching cock into your hole.

"Ugh fuck Satoru," you hissed, feeling every vein of his cock brushing against your spongy walls as he continued to plunge deeper inside your fluttering cunt. Your lips trembled, fingers gripping onto Geto’s thighs when Gojo finally bottomed out. "Full…" you muttered.

You've never felt so full in your life; even your ex-boyfriends before your spouse never did fill you up like this. Let's face it, your husband's cock wasn't the best, but as his wife, you did your best to accept what he had to offer because, after all, he'd been taking care of you for 5 years.

Now that you've had a taste of Gojo's cock, you're wondering what else you've been missing out on in life. You didn't have much time to consider when the girth of Gojo's cock stretched and ripped your pussy wide when he pulled out and plunged back in.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, nail digging deeper into Geto’s muscular thighs as the raven hair man spread your trembling legs a bit wider for Gojo to see the damage he was about to do to that pretty pussy of yours.

"Do you like that mama?" he questioned, sighing as he started stroking his cock at a frantic pace, the tip of his swollen cock head kissing your cervix, his heavy balls slapping against your moist cunt with every deep and sharp thrust of his hips.

"So... fucking good," you exclaimed, licking your lips as your eyes rolled back to look at Gojo, who was already staring at you. "So deep."

This is such a new experience for you.

You had your young and undeniably hot neighbors into your house on the bed you shared with your husband, with a camera at the end of the bed filming you being fucked by them. Your body felt like it was on fire, all the pleasure you were feeling from Gojo pouring into your mind at once.

You could feel him, his thick meaty cock snuggling up against the wet soaking wall of your cunt feeding you that pleasure that your body had so longed for. The tip of his swollen cock, pressing down onto your g-spot with every pull and drag, felt as if you could cum at any moment now.

You felt amazing, your body and your mind swimming in the clouds right now. Having sex felt good and it’s a pity that you never knew that sex could have handled this well.

You moaned out, Geto cooing at the sweet sound that escaped your lips and your eyes rolled to the back of your head yet again and smiled. “Oh fuck you love this aren’t you?” Geto asked as he released your left thigh, leaving Gojo to apply more pressure against your leg while his nibble fingers went to play with your nipples.

“Her pussy is so fucking wet and warm too,” Gojo grunted before leaning forward pushing all your body weight against Geto to kiss your lips. His wet muscle pushed past your lips, licking up all that you had to offer to him while he swallowed up your moans. your back arched; moaning when you felt Geto’s fingers pinched at your nipple, slowly rolling the aching bud between his fingers.

Then you felt Geto's lips against your ear, nibbling at the lobe then he whispered, “Mr. Sajio never fuck so good before huh?”

“No… no…” you answered without even realising that did so. This made Gojo smile as he was quick to pull away from your lips and used his right hand to wrap around your neck to keep you locked down on Geto’s chest. He raised his body slightly to tilt his cock to thrust deeper than he was already. You screamed, your hand moving from Geto’s leg to wrap around Gojo’s neck and your head suddenly tilted to get a view of Gojo’s cock working your cunt deliciously. Your spouse had never been this deep within you before, and it felt amazing.

Sweat poured from the sides of your brows, tears streamed down your fat cheeks, and your teeth bit harshly at your swollen lips. "Put her legs up on my shoulder," Gojo pleaded, and Geto obliged. When his cock made your pussy tremble, you screamed once again. Your toes curled under, and your thigh muscles spasmed.

Fuck! You felt like you were in sex heaven.

“Look into the camera mama,” Gojo whispered and you were so quick to do as you were told. “That’s it, let him see. let him see how much my cock has you weeping like a whining slut.” Then he kissed your forehead before averting his gaze to Geto who was just smiling at him.

Gojo then groaned, eyes still piercing into Geto's when felt his cock coated with your juices trickling from your quivering hole, and the bed sheets underneath you. "So good," you exclaimed as your pussy gripped and sucked him back in any time he tried to pull away. "Fuck me harder please!"

“Anything for you mama,” Gojo whispered, thrusting even harder and squeezing your throat a bit to get that feeling and pleasure rush straight to your head. White lights began to obscure your eyesight as you exclaimed loudly. Your body lurched from the bed once more but was swiftly dragged back down by the hand around your neck, and he thrust more fiercely.

“Yes, that it fuck… mhmm... Fuck,” you cried your heels digging into Gojo’s back to keep your hips grounded as you tried to move against him to meet his every thrust.

A low chuckle from his lips as his hand tightened around your throat and he pushed his lips against your cheek as he slowly drew out, "Let me do the work. If you keep moving like that, I might have to breed you," he said as he slammed back into your bruised hole.

Another scream was pulled from your lips as your body spasmed beneath him, your pussy squeezing as you creamed around his shaft. "Don’t stop, keep going. I’m gonna cum soon," you yelled, your thighs quivering as he delved deeper, but he didn't stop, instead speeding up.

The sound of his balls slapping against your wet pussy increased your arousal, and your pussy continued to flood with your sticky, allowing him to slip deeper within your warm hole. "Mhmm," he muttered, his mouth coming down to meet yours, tongue shoving past your lips, kissing you haphazardly.

With each deep, powerful thrust, your body twitches. Your tits are bouncing well for them. Even in your current state, you're breathtakingly lovely. “Yes… so good!” you babbled breathlessly. Gojo smiled against your lips and pulled to rest his forehead against yours.

"Fuck, mama, keep squeezing me like that and I'll make you cum all over my cock," Gojo said in hushed tones. He grunted as he snapped his hips at an unnaturally fast pace, causing the bed to creak and knock against the walls. He could feel his orgasm approaching, and he could tell that you were about to cum too because you were tightening and creaming even more around his cock.

Your wrist and fingers tightened around his neck, your eyes closed, and you exhaled, "I... cum." He grunts, his hand leaving your neck and rubbing his finger across your aching nub, nudging you closer to your climax.

You screamed losing your mind entirely as you lost yourself in the sheer delight of your climax, and he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, his hips never slowing down as he chased his. "Ah, yes, keep coming like that, I'm almost there," Gojo murmured, looking up to see Geto buried in his pleasure.

“Hurry up and fucking cum Satoru,” Geto purred and that alone was enough to send Gojo off the end. His cock twitched as the spurt of his thick cum painted your walls deliciously. He kissed your swollen lips yet again as he continued to release his semen inside your hole.

“Fuck… that was good,” Gojo moaned as he pumped slowly inside you. “Mh… You gonna let Sugu fuck your pussy now with my cum still dripping from you while I get your ass ready?”

“Yes… Hurry,” you whined against his lips.

He was fast to back away from you, softly removing his cock from your cum filled pussy. Before you could even think, you were laying on top of Geto's chest, your legs at each side of his hip and his cock poking at your cum filled entrance. "I'm sorry, baby... But I can't keep waiting much longer. I've been waiting for this," Geto sighed as he grasped both of your ass cheeks, parted them, and slowly impaled you with his cock.

Your eyes bulge out of your head, your jaw sagged, and your tongue lolled out of your mouth as pleasure and pain surge through your body. Your body collapsed onto his, your face quickly hiding in the crock of his neck as the younger of the two slowly lifted your hips by using your ass to gently ease you off his cock. You could feel it, those thick prominent veins on his cock and his mushroom tip sliding against your walls.

Your body jolted onto his, and another wave of delicious pain washed over you, unable to keep the moan you'd been swallowing since he impaled you with his cock, out. You were moaning and wailing his name as he gently brought you down till he was firmly buried into your soaked pussy.

You gripped the sheet with one hand beside his head while the other hand moved to cup the back of his head and your fingers buried into his silky black mane. You began moving your hips against his, slowly rocking back and forth on his cock just to get your pussy used to the size of his cock. If you thought Gojo was significant, then you had another thing coming with Geto.

He was not the same length as Gojo. But the girth doubled, if not tripled, Gojo's size, which is not to suggest Gojo didn't have that much girth, because he did.

But, in any case, you managed to lift your head from his neck and immediately press your lips to his, savouring his beautiful moans while he savoured yours. And as you kissed him, you managed to bend your knees and push your breast against his chest even more and create an appealing rhythm. "Look at that ass go..." Gojo groaned from behind you, his right hand smacking into your left ass cheek.

"Slap it again..." you groaned against Geto's lips, and as Gojo was ready to perform the honour, Geto smacked his hand away and grabbed the flesh of your ass, squeezing the plump cheeks in his hot calloused palms before delivering a slap. “Fuck… that’s it.”

Geto only hummed, his tongue too busy exploring every corner of your mouth. “Gotta get a view of this,” Gojo said as he hopped off the bed and went for the camera. “Just look at that, Saijo Takeda. Your beautiful wife is taking my best friend's cock so well,” he taunted the camera as he brought the camera closer to where you were joined together with Geto. “Look at ass jiggle as she bounces on his cock. Does it feel good mama?”

"Yes... yes so good," you moaned, tugging at Geto's hair. Both of his hands grip your ass again. Your stomach began to heat up when you felt him spanking your ass not once but two more times before spreading your cheeks apart to give Gojo and that camera a view of that puckered hole that had been clenching and unclenching.

“I can make it feel even better you know,” Gojo hissed, enjoying the view of your ass clapping against Geto’s thighs. “I can feel so much better if you let me put my cock inside your ass.”

“Yes… please I want it…” you cried.

“Oh shit…’ Geto finally spoke, his hand resting on your hips to slow down your pace. “You heard our baby Toru… come on in… see it’s all spread out nice and just waiting for you to come in.”

“Oh shit…”

“Don’t keep the lady waiting. Go put the camera down and get the lube from my bag and come prep her little ass.”

Gojo didn't need to be reminded again because he was already out of bed, immediately mounting the camera on the tripod and grabbing the lube from Geto's gym bag.

…

Your body, or more accurately, your ass, felt strange. Perhaps it was because you were still high and drunk from sex, or perhaps it was because Gojo had squirted a generous amount of lubrication inside your ass. "Shit feels... weird," you complained as you tried to grind yourself on Geto's cock, but his strength had you pinned to his shaft while Gojo worked his fingers to loosen your puckered hole a bit, or just enough to be able to handle his cock inside your hole.

“Almost there pretty,” Gojo groaned while leaning forward to kiss both of your perfect globes. “Ah… I think you can handle me now,” and with that said, Gojo pulled his fingers out, resting both hands on your ass to spread your cheeks apart while he lined his cock up with your asshole. “Going in now.”

“Deep breaths baby,” Geto instructed as Gojo began to push past the tight ring of your ass. You began whimpering, your hands falling from Geto’s hair and body to clutch the sheet next to his head.

“Fu… Fuck,” Gojo cursed and hissed under his breath as he took in the sight of your tightly little hole being stretched out by his cock. “You about to break my cock off, mama?” Gojo asked, squeezing your butt in his palms as he continued to sink further into your wet heat. It burned, it stung like hell, but you wanted him to keep going, to bruise your little butthole. "Fuck, your ass is squeezing me, so fucking good, ohhh fuck yeah," he groaned as he plunged himself fully into you, his hips slamming into your ass.

“Oh… fuck baby…” Geto groaned, feeling your pussy gripping his cock tightly. “Fuck…” he whispered yet again, his eyes rolling back a bit as he took in the feeling of being so close to his best friend. His cock brushed up against his. If it wasn’t for the thin sheet that separated your ass and pussy then maybe, just maybe their cocks, would have been brushing against each other.

“Fuck… I don’t think I can stay still any longer Su…” Gojo moaned before pulling his hips back a bit to slam into your ass again. Geto was next to follow; his hand held you still as he pulled out of your pussy and thrust back in.

They were both developing a rhythm, sliding, grinding, and sinking into your little holes, your mouth hanging open once more, and your tongue lolling out of your lips, saliva pouring from the pink tip. You urgently gulp for air, feeling trapped between two gigantic men, both of them just happened to be younger than you and also your neighbours.

“Look at the camera mama,” Gojo said as he grabbed your chin from behind and turned your face to the camera like he did earlier. “Let him see how beautiful you looked getting railed like a good fucking slut. Are you a slut?”

“Don’t be mean, Satoru,” Geto warned as he sat up on his elbows to capture the swollen nipple between his lips. Gojo was about to whine and complain while still being balls deep inside your ass, however, what you said next caught them off guard.

“Yes… I’m a slut.”

Gojo grinned and pulled your head back against his shoulder and kissed you sloppily, then whispered, “Yeah, are you a good slutty waifu?”

“Yes… I’m a slutty waifu…” you cried.

“And for who?”

“I’m a slut… for you… and Suguru.”

“That’s right… A good fucking slut for… just look at her, Mr Saijo. You won’t get to fuck and make love to such a pretty… fuck… such a pretty face anymore,” Gojo said to the camera. His lips then latched on to your ears, whispering naughty words that were driving your arousal, coating their cocks with your creamy slick. The sounds of two members pushing in and out of you at increasing speeds, and with perfect accuracy and rhythm, were the most hellish of all - but your groans were second.

Geto peered over your shoulder to see Gojo staring at him as he whispered profanities into your ears as he plunged deeply into you. Geto's teeth dug deeper into your breast as he held Gojo's stare. There was no need for words because they both knew that simply looking at one other gave them pleasure. There was an underlying need for passion between the two, but none of them considered making the first move.

But maybe, just maybe tonight will be the night, especially with how good they both looked fucking your creamy pussy and your ass. Yes, just maybe they’ll do it but not until they have you cumming on their cock more times than they can count.

Anyway, Geto finally broke eye contact to gaze at your lovely, then down to look at your pussy, back up to look at your tits, your face, and then back to Gojo's eyes. Geto’s hand then reached up and grabbed Gojo’s hand pulling both you and him down on his chest. Geto then grabbed your head and pulled you in for a hot needy kiss while tangling his fingers into Gojo’s hair to keep him there.

“Fucking hell, I’m gonna cum,” Gojo groaned, his hand slipping between your bodies to play with your clit. Your stomach was getting hot, and you were having a developing pleasure. "Come on, mama, wrap your cream around our cock, and we'll pump you full of our cum." But your brain barely noticed any of that as the scorching pleasure inside of you escalated. You began whimpering, but the sound of your whimpers was drowned out by the manly grunts from Geto's lips and the loud moans from Gojo's mouth as your body trembled violently between theirs as you eventually reached a forceful climax, losing consciousness entirely as you release yourself into the ecstasy of your orgasm.

“Yes… yes,” you cried, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. They fucked you through their climax while chasing theirs, and it wasn't long before their balls tightened, their cocks swelled immensely in your holes, and when you clamped around them both, they both emptied their seeds inside your holes. Gojo drew your head back to kiss your lips as Geto gasped as he quickly gripped your breast in his mouth and sucked on your nipple. "Fuck you, baby, fuck."

"So full," you murmured, resting your head on his shoulders. You could feel their lips kissing your body. It felt great, their delicate touches felt nice, and oh fuck, you just had sex with your neighbors, to spite and get revenge on your cheating husband.

Soon after, Gojo pulled out of your home, removed you off Geto's lap, and placed you on the bed. You lay and sat silently for a while, reminiscing on your wonderful time. That is, until Gojo asked, "Would you like to do that again, mama? This time, without the camera."

You looked over at him and back at Geto who was lazily stroking his cock. He smiled at you and you giggled. “Ok, but give me a moment to cool down.”

Gojo chuckled as he hopped off the bed to go turn off the camera. “While we wait on her to cool down,” Gojo began as he turned around and licked his lips before looking over at Geto then he continued, “Do you wanna maybe make out with me?”

Your eyes widened, your head snapping back and forth between the two of them. Geto on the other hand chuckled before replying, “I want to do more than make out with you. But that’s if you're down with me topping.”

“And what if I wanted to top?” Gojo asked as he slowly made his way over to the bed. You were still in shock, but you managed to move over to give them a bit of room.

“I don’t mind.”

“Well, I have no problem with you being the top,” Gojo responded as he moved to straddle Geto’s lap.

“Well fuck then,” you whispered under your breath while watching the two of them smiling at each. “I’m going to enjoy this…”

…

A few Days Later…

“Today’s a good day,” Gojo said to himself as he walked into the law firm in which your husband worked with the edited sex tape and your divorce papers in his hand.

“Good Morning sir, how may I assist?” the lady at the front desk asked.

“I’d like to have a word with Saijo Takeda.”

“Is he expecting you?” the woman asked.

“He’s not,” Gojo answered truthly, “But he’s going to want to have a conversation with me. Well that’s if he wants to continue working here. I have no problem getting him fired from this establishment.”

“I’ll take you to him,” the woman spoke quickly before excusing herself from the front desk and leading Gojo towards your husband's office. Once they arrived at the door, Gojo thanked the woman before opening up the door to have a conversation with your husband.

“I’m quite busy at the moment,” your husband said as soon as Gojo stepped inside the office.

“Good Afternoon too Mr. Saijo.”

Your husband perked up, eyes almost bulging from his head when he saw the son of Mr. Gojo is the owner of multiple law and technological firms in Japan inside his office. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Eh! I’m just here to sort some business out with you,” Gojo said as he took a seat in front of your husband.

“What kind of business?” Your husband asked. Gojo smiled as he rested both the sex tape and your divorce papers in front of him. Your husband brow raised in confusion as he picked up the papers that were in front of him. “What’s all of this?”

“Are you blind?” Gojo asked, scoffing as he watched the excuse of a husband picking up the thumb drive that had the sex tape.

“Divorce papers?”

“Gosh you’re so stupid, but let’s cut to the chase. You are going to do yourself a favour and sign these divorce papers. Y/N, or should I say my woman has already signed most of these papers. Fill out the rest.”

“What?” your husband said with a shocked look on his face and as he was about to say something else, Gojo was quick to shut him down.

“It’ll be best to sign them while I’m being nice.”

“And what if I don’t?” your husband asked as he rested the papers on the table and folded his hand under his chin. Does this kid know who I am?” Your husband thought.

However Gojo chuckled then spoke, “Suguru and I fucked your wife and made a tape of it. You have it right there in your hand.” His confession shocked your husband to the core. “Now I want you to listen to me carefully. There are two copies of the tape. You have one and my baby Y/N has the other copy. You see if you don’t do what I’m asking you to do. I’ll ruin your life with this tape.”

“I’m not the one on the tape though,” your husband fired back at Gojo.

“But I am,” Gojo said while smirking. “Now imagine what the public would think if they found out that you leaked a sex of me having sex with your wife from this computer right here,” Gojo said while tapping the computer that was on the desk. “I can already see the headlines. Saijo Takeda was caught in another scandal and now the company is seeking to release him from the company.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Gojo laughed and added, "Oh but I would. I would. So please don't put me to the test. Saijo I make pledges instead of just making meaningless threats. I advise you to follow my instructions. Accept the terms of the documents by signing them. You have 12 hours to complete the form and send it back to me. If you don't do it, I guarantee that your life will never be the same again. Enjoy your day. I have to hurry home right away so I can fill Y/N's pussy. Oh, and you might pick up a few new skills after watching the tape. It's good practice.”

𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒅𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌?

@getosbigballsack 2023

2K notes · View notes

cookiescribble · 1 year ago

Text

Show Me How To Be Whole Again

A/N: hi everyone! This is the fic I've been working on for eight months 😮‍💨. I hope it came out as well as I hoped it would 😅 - mod angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: When Spencer is abducted, you rush to the team to make sure you're there when they find him. After you get home, Spencer's behavior starts to get more and more concerning, and you're desperate for answers. (based on 2x15 and the aftermath of that episode)

Word Count: 7.1k

CW: Mentions of abduction, violence, drug addiction, withdrawal, arguing. some angst in the middle but i am incapable of writing something without a happy ending.

~~~~~

The call came early in the morning. They said they called you as soon as they could.

If you were thinking rationally, or if you could stand being alone for 5 minutes after hearing the news, maybe you would’ve stayed home. But you couldn’t stay put knowing Spencer was in trouble.

You quickly threw a few days’ worth of clothes in a carry-on bag and took the first flight out of the nearest airport. You were trying so hard to keep yourself together and not break down crying on a crowded airplane, but the thoughts just kept rushing in your head. You were so worried about him.

When you landed, you called the team and told them you were going to the police station and you were going to stay there until they found him. You wouldn’t let anyone argue with you. You wouldn’t be able to calm down until they found him anyway, so being anywhere else didn’t make sense.

You didn’t really think of what you’d do when you got there. You’d just been on autopilot since you got the call. You were hoping someone would meet you there.

When you frantically burst through the doors of the police station, JJ was standing there waiting for you. You dropped your bag and hugged her tight.

“It was my fault,” she choked out, sobbing. “We were together and… we split up… I shouldn’t have split up…”

You shook your head vigorously. “No, no, you’re not the one who abducted him. It’s not your fault.” You were also sobbing now. You tried taking deep breaths to calm yourself, but all you could think about was what could possibly be happening to Spencer right now.

You calmed down enough to ask, “Where is everybody else?”

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath herself. “We set up at the unsub’s house. He took Spence to a secondary location, and Garcia set up there to get to his computers.” She looked down. “I really should be getting back there.”

You nodded while she talked. “I’m coming with you,” you announced.

She looked at you, concerned. “We can’t risk you-“

You cut her off. “I am coming with you. I’m staying with you until we find him,” you stated forcefully.

She didn’t argue further. She could see the desperation in your eyes, you’re sure. Even someone who didn’t analyze behavior for a living could see that. “Alright. Let’s go.”

…

You arrived at the house. You couldn’t tell how long the car ride took; every second felt like an hour.

When everybody saw you, they took turns giving you a hug. You could tell they were concerned that you were here, but they could see how devastated you were. You think they understood.

You hung around while they all did their jobs and tried to find Spencer. You sat next to Penelope and watched as she tried to do whatever she could to help find him.

Time passed. The team was coming in and out of the room as they needed to. Derek was probably in here the most, giving his moral support to Penelope.

Suddenly, the monitors in front of you lit up.

“What‘s happening?” Derek asked.

“I… don’t know,” Penelope answered.

Your heart dropped as an image popped up on the screen.

It was Spencer. He was sitting in a chair, his hands tied together. He was wearing the clothes you watched him pack on the morning you last saw him.

He looked so scared.

“Guys! Get in here!” you heard Derek yell.

You couldn’t look away from the screen.

The rest of the team rushed in, faces dropping as they saw what was happening.

Someone was talking in the background of the stream. You couldn’t hear them. Your heart was thumping so hard you could hear it in your ears. Spencer was replying to whatever they were saying. Through your loud heartbeat, you could hear his trembling voice. Your eyes started to water.

After a few moments, you heard someone near you say something and suddenly you were being pulled away from the screen and into another room.

When you realized what was happening, you looked up to see Hotch holding your shoulders, pushing you away from the horrific scene unfolding on the monitors.

You started sobbing. “I have to see him,” you tried to say, but your voice was cracking.

“No. You saw that he’s alive. That’s all you need to see.” he said firmly. He was protecting you from seeing something that would truly break you.

You couldn’t argue. What you saw shook you to your very core; you couldn’t go back in there. You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded. “You’re going to find him and bring him back safe.” It wasn’t a question. You knew they’d find him. They had to.

You took a step back, telling Hotch he could go back to the team in the other room, and that you were okay out here.

You sat at a table, laying your head down and covering it with your arms. You had started crying, and you couldn’t stop. How could they do this to him? He’s never done anything to hurt anybody. All he does is help people. How could someone look at him and feel anything other than warmth, comfort, and love?

You heard footsteps come into the room. The girls came in and sat around you. You picked your head up to look at them, your eyes already swollen from crying so much.

“What happened?” you asked frantically. Your heart was racing again.

“He’s okay,” Emily said quickly. “He’s alive. The unsub… made him choose a victim to keep alive, but there’s going to be more victims… and then the camera cut off.” She took a deep breath. “It looked like making that decision let him live.”

You buried your face in your hands. This was so cruel. you knew he dealt with bad people every day, but… this was so heartbreaking. How could someone feel so little remorse for other human beings that they force an innocent person to decide someone’s fate?

You took deep breaths to try not to cry again. “I can tell he’s in so much pain right now… He’s going to blame himself for all those people’s deaths. The guilt is going to eat him up inside. He’ll feel horrible even if he does make it out of this.”

Everyone took turns patting your back to reassure you. “He is going to make it out of this. He’ll be home soon.”

You nodded, forcing yourself to believe it. You had to believe it. If you didn’t believe it… you would break down more than you ever have before.

…

You stayed in that room for what felt like an eternity. The team took turns keeping you company when they weren’t busy. They gave you vague updates to let you know that Spencer was still alive. They didn’t tell you details of what they saw. You didn’t ask. Seeing the somber looks on their faces told you all you needed to know.

Eventually, everyone came rushing out of the room, putting on their coats and practically running out the door. Penelope came to sit with you, her eyes wide and full of hope. “They found where he is. They’re going to him now.” She hugged you tightly. “He’s going to be okay.”

Tears leaked out of your eyes again. This time they were happy tears. The immense rush of relief you felt was enough to render you speechless for a while, until you finally choked out, “They’re going to call us when he’s safe?” She nodded eagerly and you let out a huge sigh of relief.

The wait felt like forever. You were still nervous. What if they don’t get to him in time? What if they’re just barely too late?

Finally, finally Penelope’s phone rang. She answered quickly, nodding at what she was hearing. Eventually she hung up and looked at you, smiling. “He’s with them now. The unsub is dead. They’re rushing an ambulance but his injuries seem minor considering… what’s been happening.”

You closed your eyes and took another big sigh of relief. “I’m going to meet the ambulance there,” you declared.

Penelope looked at you quizzically. “I don’t know if-“

“You said the unsub is dead,” you cut her off. “There’s no more danger. I’m going to him.” You saw keys to one of the FBI vehicles that was left over since they had multiple people to a van. You picked them up and tossed them to Penelope. “You know their coordinates. You drive.”

She caught the keys and nodded at you, unable to argue with your logic. You both rushed out to the van and sped over to the location.

You saw the ambulance as you arrived there. You barely waited for Penelope to put the car in park before you were running out the door to where the ambulance had parked.

You saw Spencer sitting at the edge of the back of the ambulance with a first aid blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He was beaten up, but he was still conscious and alert. You were relieved his injuries weren’t worse.

“Spencer!” you shouted as you ran towards him. He looked your way, his eyes widening as he saw you.

You threw your arms around his shoulders when you reached him. His shock quickly turned to something softer as he relaxed into your arms, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You nestled your face into his neck for a few moments, unable to stop your sobs of joy. “Oh, sweetie…” you cooed into his ear.

He moved so his forehead was touching yours. Tears were streaking down his face. “I’m sorry…” he started.

You shook your head vigorously. “No apologies. You’re okay now.” You kissed him on the forehead gently and threaded your fingers in his hair “Everything’s going to be okay.”

He nodded and tightened his grip on you, kissing you firmly. He kissed you for a long time before finally pulling away, resting his forehead on yours. “I love you,” he whispered.

You smiled warmly, whispering back to him. “I love you, too.”

You stayed like that for a few moments before everyone started pushing Spencer to get in the ambulance so he could go to the hospital. You rode with him, of course. You held his hand the whole way there.

He wasn’t in the hospital for too long. They were able to treat his wounds relatively easily. The team waited in the waiting room while you followed him into the examination room.

When you came back to the waiting room, hand in hand, everyone rushed to greet you before you all headed to the jet.

You sat in the corner of the couch to the side of the other seats, motioning for Spencer to lay his head in your lap. He followed eagerly, curling up on his side and nestling his head in your lap.

You ran your fingers through his curls as he began to fall asleep. He must’ve been exhausted. You couldn’t imagine him sleeping during any of that.

You stayed like that the whole ride home, him asleep and you petting his hair softly.

You gently woke him up when you landed. “C’mon, baby. We’re going home.”

He sat up and rubbed his eyes. You kissed his cheek before standing up, taking his hand as you went to the parking lot. He obviously wasn’t in any condition to drive, so he handed you the keys to his car and let you drive home. You insisted on stopping and getting some food on the way back. He said he didn’t feel hungry, but once he started eating, it seemed like he’d never stop. He must’ve been starving.

When you walked into your apartment, he grabbed you and hugged you tightly to his chest. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, relaxing into him.

“I missed you so much.” He was crying again, sniffling softly. “I thought about you every waking moment. I knew I had to make it through because you were waiting for me.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead, closing his eyes and savoring the moment.

“I missed you too,” you said quietly, looking into his eyes with a soft expression. “I knew you were going to make it back.” You hugged him tight again. “I didn’t see everything. The team… made sure I didn’t see anything that was going to hurt me.”

He nodded, leaning down to stroke your cheek gently with his thumb. “I’m glad you didn’t have to see me like that.” He touched his forehead to yours. “What matters now is that I’m here with you.” He kissed you slowly, pushing your hair out of your face.

You kissed for a long time, slowly making your way to your bedroom. You smiled up at him after a while. “As much as I would love to continue this…” You gestured to the bed. “You need to sleep.”

As if to prove your point, he let out a quiet yawn. You smiled as he sat down at the edge of the bed. You grabbed his pajamas from the drawer and helped him get changed and settled into bed.

He lay his head on your chest and you stroked his hair gently, just like you did the whole way home. “Go to sleep, baby,” you whispered as his eyes closed. After a moment you heard his breathing slow as he fell asleep.

“Goodnight,” you whispered, kissing the top of his head before relaxing to fall asleep yourself.

…

After that night, things got… bad.

Spencer wasn’t acting like himself anymore. He was… distant. Cold. He had never acted this way towards you before. Or anyone, for that matter.

You had never had a problem with intimacy before, but suddenly he refused to touch you. Any time you would reach for his hand, or try to put your arm around him, he’d just shrug you off of him and move away from you. It always ended in you mumbling an apology and putting some space between you.

He never explained why he didn’t want you to touch him. In fact, he didn’t talk a whole lot anymore. You often sat in silence, completely apart from each other. You always used to be able to count on him to fill these silences, but now he just stayed quiet.

When he did talk, he was a lot more cold to you than he used to be. You had never fought before, but now it felt like any time he talked it was to argue with you about something. It felt like he was always angry lately.

He didn’t even like to sleep in the same bed as you anymore. Most nights, if not every night, he slept on the couch. You started begging him, telling him that you would never cross over your side of the bed, but he shrugged you off saying he just needed to be alone.

All of this was really taking a toll on you. You tried not to show it, because you knew he was going through a hard time, so you only let your feelings out in places you could be alone. Which meant you spent a lot of time crying in the bathroom.

This went on for months. You thought that, surely, he had to tell you what was going on eventually. He had never hidden anything from you before, so you didn’t really know what to do, or how to handle this. You didn’t want to push him into talking about things he didn’t want to talk about, but something was very clearly wrong.

After a particularly bad argument one night, you couldn’t take it anymore. You had to go to someone about this. For Spencer’s sake.

The next morning, you set an extra early alarm, quietly getting dressed and tiptoeing past Spencer, who was asleep on the couch, and silently leaving your apartment.

As you got in your car and started driving, you started arguing with yourself in your head. Part of your brain was trying to say that this wasn’t going to help, and that this was just like being a little kid and tattling to a teacher. But the emotional part of your brain was saying that just telling anyone would be able to help Spencer. And that little shred of hope was all it took to convince you to do this.

You shoved open the doors to the BAU, hoping that Spencer’s stories about his boss barely leaving his office were true. When you looked around, you saw an office with a light on, making you breathe a sigh of relief.

You bound up the stairs, knocking on the office door, a little more forcefully than you had intended. Hopefully it would help get your emotions across.

“Come in,” a familiar voice ordered.

You took a deep breath before opening the door, seeing Hotch sitting at his desk with a bunch of paperwork in front of him. You wondered just how much paperwork this job required, and if he was always here hours before everyone else.

He looked surprised to see you. He would probably be surprised to see anyone at this early hour, but considering you don’t even work for him, he probably wouldn’t have even considered the possibility of you coming here. “Is there something I can help you with?” He asked.

You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. You didn’t really think this far; you just figured that surely someone who works so closely with Spencer had to know something, especially since he was a profiler.

You thought about everything that had happened in the last few months, trying to find the right words to properly articulate your concerns. But all the thoughts about Spencer pushing you away and refusing your affection, mixed with remembering what your relationship was like before that fateful night of his abduction, overwhelmed your mind so much that you just couldn’t stop your emotions flowing out. Tears welled in your eyes before starting to streak down your face. Here you were, in Hotch’s office, completely unannounced and uninvited, and you were just standing there crying.

After a few moments of crying, and of Hotch looking very concerned at this scene playing out before him, you decided it didn’t matter that you couldn’t form the perfect words. You just needed to say something.

Through choked sobs, you finally managed to blurt out, “What’s wrong with Spencer?”

Hotch looked at you, his expression as unreadable as always. “What do you mean?”

You took a deep breath, too emotional to think about how you shouldn’t be saying all of this to your boyfriend’s boss. The words just started coming out in a rush. “Something’s wrong. We had never had a single argument before, and now the only time he ever talks to me is to pick a fight. He’s never present, he barely speaks, which I’m sure I don’t have to tell you is very strange behavior for Spencer. He never smiles anymore, he won’t let me touch him anymore, he won’t sleep in our bed anymore, he only sleeps on the couch…”

You covered your eyes with your hands, trying to stop the tears from coming out. Finally, after some shaky breaths, you finished by saying, “I just wanted to know if there’s anything you could tell me about this. If you know why he’s acting this way. If there’s something he’s not telling me.”

Hotch hesitated before gesturing to a chair in front of his desk. “Do you want to take a seat?”

You looked at the chair, and you noticed you were shaking. You nodded, and sat down in the chair, trying to calm down. But you couldn’t help being extremely restless, your leg bouncing rapidly while you sat.

Hotch leaned forward, moving some paperwork out of the way and placing his hands on his desk. His expression was slightly softened. “Working in this field, you go through a lot of traumatic things. Reid’s abduction was one of the worst things an agent can go through.” His voice was low and steady, which was a welcome contrast to how frantic your own words had come out. “Anyone would struggle after that.”

You sighed. “I know, but-”

He raised his hand to cut you off. “That being said, we’ve all been able to tell that Reid has been a little off.” He saw you raise your eyebrow and added, “Okay, a lot off.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “We have some… theories, but we can’t know for sure what’s happening with him unless he tells us. And since he’s already struggling, we didn’t want to make it worse, especially since he’s technically just a subordinate or coworker. But if he’s not telling you either…” He looked at you sympathetically. “I’ll try to talk to him.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “... Thank you. Thank you so much. I’m so sorry I came here out of the blue.” You stood up, taking a step forward as if you were going to hug him, but for once your rational thoughts took over and you stayed where you were.

He stood up after you. “You’re welcome. It couldn’t have been easy to come here and talk about this.” He reached out to shake your hand, and when you shook his hand back he put his other hand over yours and spoke softly to you. “I’m going to try to get through to him. I promise.”

His gentle hands and soft-spoken words were enough to reassure you, at least for now. You nodded, thanking him again before leaving his office. You were able to leave with a lot more composure than you came here with.

It was getting late by the time you left Hotch’s office, and there were a lot more people here now. As you came down the stairs, you looked up to see Spencer staring at you. He wasn’t angry, thankfully, but he looked… kind of dumbfounded. Which made sense. You had no reason to be here at all, let alone a reason to be talking to his boss.

As you walked towards him to get to the door to leave, he turned to you. “Hey…” he started, his voice soft.

You didn’t know what to say, his soft voice sounding nothing like what you’ve been hearing these past few months. So you just kind of waved to him awkwardly, pointing to your watch to indicate that you had to get to work, and you left the BAU.

When you got back in your car, you took a few minutes to process everything that had happened. You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to convince yourself that everything was okay. You believed Hotch when he said he’d help. It felt like Spencer was in capable hands.

…

Later that day, you had been in the bathroom when Spencer came home, and you didn’t hear the door open and close. When you came out, you saw him standing awkwardly in the front of your apartment. It made you jump a little bit. “Hi… I didn’t know you were home,” you muttered awkwardly.

He stood there looking at you, his eyes moving a little as if he was thinking of what to say. After a few moments, instead of saying anything, he walked over to you and hugged you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist.

You just froze for a moment, not sure how to react. But he kept his tight hold on you, as if you were the only thing keeping him up right now, and you finally started to hug him back just as tightly. You both just stood like that for a few minutes, holding each other.

Finally, he spoke up. His voice was soft, barely a whisper, and he sounded so fragile. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He was starting to cry now, making soft sobbing sounds into your shoulder.

Hearing him cry broke something in you, and shortly you were also in tears. “Oh, Spence…” You squeezed him a little tighter, rubbing soothing circles on his back. “It’s okay…”

He sniffled and shook his head, pulling back a little so he could look you in the eyes. “My behavior has been abhorrent lately. I’ve been struggling, and I’ve been bottling everything up. I didn’t realize just how much this was hurting you.” He took a deep breath, trying to keep up with his thoughts. “I guess I figured, if I didn’t tell you about my problems, then they couldn’t affect you. But I was wrong. It just made it worse.”

You looked at him sadly, one of your hands moving to gently stroke his hair. “You can always come to me with anything. I’ll always try to help you. You know that.”

Some more tears started falling down his cheeks, and you started to wipe them away with your thumb. “I guess I felt like… I didn’t deserve the help.” He took a few shaky breaths as he tried to calm down. “Like I didn’t deserve you being so nice to me.”

“Spencer…” you started, trying to make your voice sound as soothing as possible. “What’s wrong? What’s so bad that you can’t tell me?”

He closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. “I… I don’t know if I can talk about it yet. But I promise I’ll tell you soon.” He looked at you determinedly. “Until then, I promise I’m going to try to be better to you.” As if to prove his point, he grabbed your face and captured your lips in a soft kiss, making your heart flutter.

After years of dating, you didn’t think you’d feel that flustered, shy feeling of butterflies in your stomach again. But, after these past few months of having no physical contact, this kiss almost felt like it was your first kiss all over again.

You couldn’t help but hold the back of his head to try to bring his face even closer to yours. You were craving his touch, and you needed his affection. On the off chance that this was a one-time thing, and that he would start to distance himself again after this, you figured you had to make it last.

He showed no signs of letting up, though, moving you both so you were laying on the couch, with him hovering over you. His lips never left yours the whole time, and his hands were moving around your face as if he was trying to remember what it felt like.

He broke the kiss to look at you, before closing his eyes. His hands trailed from your face down to your neck, moving slightly under your shirt to your shoulders. He wasn’t just touching you, he was feeling you. As if feeling your skin would jog his memory of you. His breathing was soft and even as his hands moved down to your hips, his fingers gentle and slow on your waist as he started to lift your shirt up.

Your breath hitched when you felt cold air suddenly hit your stomach. “Spence…” you spoke quietly, a soft blush on your face.

He looked at you, his voice quick and reassuring. “I don’t want to do anything like… that. It would be a little too much for me right now.” He quickly flashed you that awkward little smile he had sometimes. “I just want to see you, to feel you.” His voice went a little quieter when he added, “I missed you.”

You looked at him sadly, reaching up to touch his face. “I missed you, too.” You leaned in to kiss him again. “I missed you so much.”

The soft, slow kissing resumed, and Spencer very carefully pulled your shirt over your head, his hands gently gliding over the newly exposed skin. You let out a dreamy sigh. You hadn’t realized just how touch starved you had been over these past few months. This is exactly what you had been needing.

You just stayed on the couch like that for a while, his lips and hands on you, the gentlest of touches. After a little while longer, you started to unbutton his shirt, because you wanted to do the same to him.

He completely froze, sucking in a breath. You immediately pulled your hands away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” You trailed off, worried that you just ruined any progress that had been made tonight.

He shook his head, sitting up and pulling you up with him. “It’s okay, I just… I don’t want you to see me with my shirt off.” He looked at you with pleading eyes, as if he was begging you not to ask about it.

You hesitated, but instead of asking about it you tried to be a little more lighthearted. “I’ve seen you without a shirt plenty of times, Spencer.”

He gave you a slight smile before the worried look came back to his face. “I just…” he started, “I can’t right now. Please understand.”

You nodded, taking his hand and giving it a slight squeeze. “I understand.” You stroked his hand gently with your thumb. “I’m not going to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. You can trust me.”

He squeezed your hand back, giving you another little smile. “I know you won’t. I do trust you.” He let out a little yawn and started to rub his eyes.

You looked at the clock, not realizing how late it had gotten. “Come on, let’s go to bed.” You leaned over to kiss his forehead. “You should get some sleep.”

You worried he would still insist on sleeping on the couch, but he just nodded, his hand still tightly holding yours as you both stood up and walked to your bedroom. He grabbed his pajamas and headed to the bathroom to change.

You sat on the bed and watched him for a few moments before he closed the door. You started to get dressed yourself, wondering what this problem was about. He had been a little shy around you when you two first started getting intimate, but you thought he had gotten over that. Had these past few months apart made the shyness come back?

Your thoughts were interrupted by Spencer coming back into the room. You stood up so he could get in bed. He looked so tired; you could see just how bad the dark circles under his eyes were.

He crawled under the covers, curling up and closing his eyes. You got in the other side of the bed, gently rubbing his back to soothe him. You didn’t want to push any boundaries, so you pulled away after just a moment.

He turned around, looking at you with those big eyes of his, and grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together. He closed his eyes again, taking a deep breath, as if soothed by your touch. You smiled softly. He looked more peaceful than you had seen him in a long time. It made it easier to close your eyes and relax.

It was silent for a while, and you thought he had fallen asleep. But then, you heard him speak very softly. “I love you.”

You opened your eyes to see him looking back at you. You squeezed his hand gently. “I love you too.” You leaned in and kissed his forehead, making him smile. “Get some sleep. I can tell you need it,” you whispered.

He nodded and closed his eyes again, moving a little closer to you before wrapping his arms around you and nestling his head in your neck. You hesitated for a moment in shock before cradling him in your arms. You kissed the top of his head. “Goodnight, baby,” you whispered to him. Soon, you could hear his breathing soften, and you just listened to the quiet sounds of him sleeping for a few more moments before falling asleep yourself.

…

Things didn’t magically get better after that, but they did improve.

Spencer went back to sleeping in your bed, though he seemed to have a hard time sleeping nowadays. He was always tossing and turning, and you usually woke up in the middle of the night to either try to soothe him to sleep or to keep him company when he couldn’t sleep.

There was a lot more talking, and a lot less fighting. You could have more comfortable conversations, and he would politely tell you when he didn’t feel like talking. It was a lot better than him yelling at you to leave him alone.

There was still some arguing, but usually only when you were trying to get him to eat. He was always saying he wasn’t hungry, and you had to try to push to get him to eat, saying he needed some kind of nutrition. Sometimes he would snap at you, saying he would eat if he was hungry and that he didn’t push you when you didn’t want to eat. He’d always apologize, though, and try his best to explain that he was either feeling nauseous or he just didn’t have much of an appetite anymore. It seemed to get a little better after a few days.

He didn’t mind a little more physical contact. He wasn’t always up for it, but he didn’t seem to mind it as much. It was always trial and error, almost like trying to pet a skittish cat. You’d start by putting a gentle hand on his, and he’d tense up for a second, and he’d either pull away and explain he didn’t want to be touched, or he’d take your hand and hold it gently. A big improvement. It was just little touches: holding hands, an arm around his shoulder, a hug… it never went past that.

He didn’t talk about what it was that was bothering him at first, but you trusted that he would tell you when he was ready. After about a week, he was finally ready to talk about it.

…

You both were sitting on the couch, in one of your quiet moments. You were reading a book, like you usually did when Spencer felt like being quiet. The silences were starting to get more comfortable, making it easier to just do quiet activities next to each other.

After a few minutes, Spencer cleared his throat, making you look over at him. You bookmarked the page you were on and turned to him. “What is it?”

He hesitated, as if he wasn’t sure how to start this conversation. He closed his eyes for a moment to put his thoughts together, before opening them again to look at you. He spoke very softly.

“When I was…” he started, swallowing and taking a deep breath to compose himself before continuing, “... When I was abducted for those few days back in February, a lot happened. The man who took me had dissociative identity disorder, and dealing with all his personalities was difficult. But there was one of his personalities that was… nicer than the others. More helpful than harmful.” He closed his eyes again, and you knew this was really hard for him to talk about. You placed a gentle hand over his, and he let out a breath, grabbing your hand and giving it a squeeze. He continued on, his voice still soft and sad.

“Unfortunately, one of the ways that he helped me was to… give me something to help numb the pain the others were causing.” He closed his eyes again, and he slowly rolled up his sleeves for you to see his arms.

You stared in shock. His arms were covered in needle marks. You covered your mouth. “Oh, Spencer…” You looked back up at his face, but his eyes were squeezed shut, as if he didn’t want to face this. You squeezed his hand to let him know you were here to support him.

“He would come to me saying Dilaudid helped with the pain, and after a few times, it started to feel… good.” He took another deep breath, his eyes still closed. “After he died, I took the bottles he still had. And when things started getting hard to handle… all the flashbacks and memories of what happened to me, I just needed to numb myself. And it worked, for a while. But eventually, I just… couldn’t stop.”

“Spencer…” you started, your voice gentle. “You could’ve come to me, I could’ve tried to help you-”

“I didn’t want that,” he cut you off. “I tried to convince myself that what I was doing wasn’t wrong. That it was just medicine that was helping me. But, obviously, I knew that wasn’t the truth. And I knew that if I told anyone about it, they would say I needed help. But I didn’t want help. I just wanted to live in this unrealistic world where everything I was doing was fine.” He finally opened his eyes to look at you. “That’s why I was lashing out. I didn’t want anyone to help me, and I also felt like I didn’t deserve anyone being nice to me.”

He looked at you very seriously. “I thought, if I didn’t tell you any of this, it couldn’t hurt you. I know how sensitive you are to other people’s emotions and problems, so I figured if I didn’t tell you, you couldn’t worry about me. Obviously, I was wrong, and that was a naive way of thinking.” He reached out and gently touched your face. “When I saw you at the BAU, I knew it was because you were worried about me, and I saw that you looked like you had been crying. And it just snapped me out of this false reality I had created for myself. And that’s when I came home and apologized, because I knew I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t keep hurting you.”

You listened to him silently while he talked, letting him get out everything he needed to say before responding. “Why didn’t you tell me that day? Or the few days after that? Why did you wait until now?”

He nodded as if he was waiting for this question. “I read that withdrawal symptoms peak within 12-48 hours, and that it usually takes 5-7 days for the symptoms to resolve. So I wanted to wait out those 7 days just to make sure.”

You gave him a sad look. “But if I knew you were having withdrawal symptoms, I could have helped you. I really wish you would have told me.”

He sighed. “I wanted to do it on my own. To prove to myself that I could do it. That I wasn’t just going to quit halfway through and relapse.”

You nodded sympathetically. “Well, I’m really glad you told me now. We can get through this together.” You gave his hand a little pat. “You know this isn’t the end of it, right? It’s not just over when withdrawal symptoms stop. You still need to work out these issues that made you start this in the first place.”

He nodded. “I know. I want to try to get help now. I… I think I’m ready. I want to look into going to therapy, and maybe some support groups if I need them.” He squeezed your hand again. “I know I can make it through this, because I know you’ll be by my side.”

You smiled softly at him. “I’ll always be by your side.” Your hand trailed up his arms, looking back at the needle marks. “Do they… hurt?” you asked softly.

He shrugged. “Only when they first appear. They don’t hurt right now.”

You nodded, and you gently touched the marks on his arm. You looked at him, and you slowly brought his arm up so you could give every little mark a gentle kiss, to let him know that everything was going to get better soon.

He looked at you with big, loving eyes, and he started tearing up a bit. He pulled you in for a tight hug, sniffling as he buried his face in your neck. “I love you so much,” he said with a shaky voice.

You held him tight, rubbing his back to comfort him. “I love you too, Spence. Everything is going to be okay.” Your voice was calm and soothing. “I’m here now.”

…

Things started to get much better after that. Spencer was way more comfortable telling you when things were feeling more difficult than usual. Typically, it would be when he came home from a particularly emotional case. You were always there to hold him and to soothe him. There was no more aversion to your touch or need for extended silences. He felt comfortable in your arms, and he knew he could talk to you when something was bothering him.

He started seeing a therapist, and you always went there with him. Usually, you just sat outside the office for his sessions so he could have the one-on-one help he needed. Sometimes, if he was having a particularly rough week, he would bring you in with him for extra support. And you were always there when he needed you.

It took a bit of time, but you learned how to help with whatever he needed you for. If he needed a distraction, you could always come up with some activity to get his mind off of things. You played a lot of board games, and started learning to bake so you could just pull out a new recipe to try and he could focus on getting everything just right. When he just needed someone to listen to him, or a shoulder to cry on, you didn’t mind being that person for him. And sometimes he just wanted to be held, saying that the physical touch grounded him. You were always happy to hold him.

Over time, things got easier and easier to deal with. Eventually, things seemed to be fully back to normal. You both knew that this was always going to be a struggle that could come back, but you knew how to handle it now, and you were certain that you could get through any struggle that ever tried to get in your way.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x male!reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfiction #mod angel

569 notes · View notes

pitchsidestories · 6 months ago

Text

hate that I love you II Ana Maria Crnogorčević x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1759

a/n: we hope you enjoy reading the oneshot, we'd love to hear your thoughts on it. <3

warnings: slight smut in the middle, a bit of angst, but with a happy ending.🖤

“Ana!”, Keira shouted the name of your former Barca teammate, after the English midfielder has spotted the Swiss woman in the crowd.

The Champions league final was over, your team has won the title a second time in a row. But the celebratory mood you were in just a few seconds ago was gone at the sight of your ex-girlfriend. It made your blood turn cold.

“Ale, what the hell is Ana doing here? Who even invited her?”, you asked your captain furiously.

In an instant, she noticed your change of mood, that was why the midfielder replied cautiously:” I think some of the girls did or she just came to visit.”

“Oh, wow.”, you huffed, trying to get as far away from your former lover as possible. Seems like you weren’t that lucky this evening in Bilbao, she already had set her eyes on you, calling your name.

“Hi, y/n.”

“Ana. Sorry, but I got to go.”, you lied, while walking into the direction to the changing rooms.

“Where’s she going?”, Ana questioned as she was slowly following you..

“Isn’t that obvious? You broke up with her.”, Alexia reminded the taller woman.

“She still didn’t have to run away.”, the Swiss player mumbled, the hurt was written all over her face.

Meanwhile Keira who has been quiet after hugging her enthusiastically, joined their conversation with a low voice:” No but you ran away first, remember?”

“I didn’t. It was better that way.”, Ana corrected the English woman, before she headed into the changing room where you were standing all by yourself. The party was heading somewhere else already.

You heard her last words loud and clear: ”No, it wasn’t, you’ve chosen the cowardly way after almost four years of being together. You acted like that time meant nothing to you.”

Finally, you got the chance to tell her how devasted you were about her sudden move to Madrid.

“That’s not true. It wouldn’t have worked out long distance and you know that.”, the Swiss player disagreed.

“No, I don’t know that actually, because we never tried it!”, you protested.

“Yeah, sure. You were pouting because I left the team.”, Ana rolled her eyes annoyed at you.

Her behaviour only fed the anger you felt inside.

“Yes, because you told me those transfer news a day before you left for the capitol.”

“Because I knew you’d be pouting.”, she shot back, almost stumbling over the empty champagne bottles which were left on the ground.

This moment felt almost like a symbol of your failed relationship as it started golden, perfect even, with your first ever champions league win during the covid period, and the following wins, which abruptly ended in shattered hopes and dreams.

You tore your gaze away from the champagne bottles and looked straight at Ana.

“Oh.“, you said, your jaw set. “Sorry that you meant something to me. What a fool I was. Hope you’re happy now.“

Anas face changed from a slight moment to confusion to immediate annoyance: “Oh my god, you can be so damn dramatic!“

“Why are you even here? You ruined a perfect final with your presence.“, you spat back.

Anas eyes sparkled with furiousness: “Oh I’m sorry. Sorry that my friends are still here and that this team still means something to me!“

You were taking aback by how loud her voice had gotten but you kept glaring at her: “Fine. Go and celebrate with them. But leave me alone!“

All of a sudden, you felt Anas weight on you as she pinned you against the wall of the changing room. You had to suppress a surprised shriek.

Ana tilted her head, her lips curved in the smallest hint of a smirk: “Or what?“

“Get your hands off of me!“, you said through gritted teeth.

“Make me.“, your ex-girlfriend challenged you.

In a heartbeat you leaned forward, pressing your lips onto Anas. Just when she started to return the kiss, you bit down hard on her lower lip.

She pulled back: “Hey!“

“Can I go now?“, you asked impatiently.

“No.“

You locked eyes with her again. Your voice was pure ice when you replied. “I hate you so much…“

Anas hand found its way into your ponytail, pulling on it roughly.

You hissed.

“Say that again.“, Ana ordered.

“What? I hate that I still love you…“

Anas grip on your hair loosened. “I know you do.“

“What about you?“, you asked. You hated that your voice still sounded so hopeful when you only wanted to despise the woman in front of you.

Your ex ignored your question deliberately. “You need to shut up now.“

“Go on.“

“I’ll.“

And suddenly, her lips were on yours again. Her body pressed so hard against your own that you could feel her heat on your skin. You kissed back with hunger while Ana shoved her thigh between your legs. Biting back a moan, you began to move against her.

Anas hands, in the meantime, had slipped under your jersey, exploring your skin with the lightest touch.

You knew you should not but you could not stop yourself. It was as if your body had taken control, taking what it had craved for so long.

Ana was in the motion of finally pulling your jersey over your head and your body tingled with excitement, when the door to the changing room was opened.

“Girls, we’re going to party!“, Keiras voice announced, before stopping herself. “Oh, seems like you already started.“

“Come back later.”, the Swiss woman told the midfielder in a casual tone as if the redhead couldn’t see the messy state, you two were in.

“See you girls.”, she muttered and closed the door again much to your own relief.

“Oh my god, that was embarrassing.”, you mumbled against the older player’s chest.

“Whatever. As if she cares.”, Ana shrugged.

“Right, Laura will distract her from what she just saw.”, you smirked while you thought about the happy couple.

“I’m sure.”, the blonde nodded.

“Thank god.”, you sighed, forever gratefully for the Austrian footballer.

“She came in at the worst time though. I was just getting into it.”, the older woman whispered into your ear, although you couldn’t see her face you could hear from her voice that she was smiling.

“Need a reminder where we stopped?”, you looked up to her, eyes sparkling.

“No. Come here.”, Ana shook her head, before continuing what she started, her touches even hungrier than before.

In between you put your hand on her body middle to stop her, asking the one question which was burning hot on your tongue:” Did you miss me in Madrid?”

“Of course. Every day.”, the Swiss player answered truthfully.

“When why didn’t you say everything? You were multiple times in Barcelona.”, you pressed on.

“You know why.”, she responded quietly, while tucking in a loose string of the hair behind your ear.

“Because it would have made it worse.”, you replied.

“But it was worth to wait.”, Ana said winking, alluding to the fun you had only minutes earlier.

“You’re an idiot, you know that, right?”, you laughed at her playful mood.

“Maybe I’m.”, she admitted seriously.

“To be fair so am I.”, you confessed, remembering how the blonde was till able to make your legs go weak.

“Looks like we both are.”, the Swiss woman smiled sadly. There was a melancholy air surrounding your ex-lover and you which couldn’t be waved off.

“Yes, seems like it.”, you agreed.

“So.. want to continue making out or..?”, Ana quickly distracted you from the thoughts which tinted everything sepia coloured like it was a moment from the past, but actually everything what happened was in the present.

“No, let’s stop talking and continue kissing.”, you decided, while turning your words into actions. She gladly obliged to your decision.

In the morning you awoke to Alexia’s cheerful voice, of course your captain was already up:” Y/n, wake up, we got to go!”

Your heart sank when you turned your head to Ana whose eyes were still closed, her arms wrapped around you:” Ana? I’ve to leave.”

“Okay, Barca needs you, I understand that.”, she responded, although the older woman hasn’t let you go yet.

The light of the sun fell through the curtain and gave everything it touched a warm glow including her.

“You can sleep a little longer.”, you offered her heavy-hearted.

“No.“, Ana said. Her voice was still a little hoarse from the sleep but she sounded determined.

“No?“, you echoed.

Ana pulled you closer, whispering into your ear: “I’ll think that I only dreamed this.“

“But it was real.“, you replied, studying her face thoroughly.

With a sigh, she finally let go of you. “Visit me in Madrid.“

A slight smile tugged on your lips as you crawled out of bed: “I’ll. See you there.“

Ana watched you while you got dressed: “Hopefully soon.“

“Promise.“, you said before you grabbed your bag and were out the door.

You could feel her gaze linger on your back as you left.

Alexia was already waiting for you. You were unable to interpret the look on her face but she was eyeing you cautiously as though she was searching for a hint.

When you approached her, she only let out a breath: “You girls.“

You rolled your eyes: “Don’t say anything, Alexia.“

Your captain remained unimpressed by that. Instead, she shrugged with a smirk: “I have to.“

“Fine but quick.“, you gave in. All you wanted to do was go home to Barcelona and sort your thoughts.

Alexias smile grew wider: “You’re the same kind of idiots.“

“Rude.“, you said, more amused than offended.

“It’s true.“

“Maybe a bit… She asked me to visit her in Madrid.“, you admitted quietly.

Your teammate nodded slowly, seemingly unsurprised: “She means it. You two miss each other.“

“I hate that I love her…“

“You can hate it all you want but you need her.“, Alexia replied calmly.

“You’re right.“

You had to finally admit it, your captain knew you better than anyone else on the team. Maybe she was right. Maybe all the hatred and pain you had felt had been unnecessary. Maybe there was an easy solution to this ache you felt in your chest.

That was how you found yourself in Madrid on your next free day. Your heart thumped against your chest as you waited on Anas door step.

Finally, the door opened and her face appeared in the gap.

“Hi.“, you said softly.

A smile of pleasant surprise appeared on Anas lips. “Hi. Come in.“

#ana maria crnogorcevic imagine #ana maria crnogorcevic x reader #ana maria crnogorcevic #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #woso community #woso one shot #woso oneshot #barca femeni #keira walsh #alexia putellas #woso smut #atletico madrid femenino

319 notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 1 year ago

Note

Hello my lovely!! Could I have a cute thingy with Remus getting the reader flowers, but plot twist she has never gotten flowers 🤔🤔 I feel you would do amazing with this 💕 kinda like outspoken but shy about affection reader

Thanks for requesting my love! (haha get it?)

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 593 words

Remus tries not to take it personally when you open the door and your eyes go straight to the flowers bunched in his hand rather than his face.

“Hey,” you say, eyes flitting up to his. You look surprised, but the happy kind, and Remus smiles. “Hi! What are you doing here?”

He almost wonders if he’s gotten the time wrong. “I, um, I thought we were going for coffee about now.”

“Yeah.” Your smile turns bemused (still happy, though, so Remus tries not to worry about it too much). “I was just about to head out, I thought I was meeting you there.”

Remus shrugs. “Easy miscommunication. I figured I was picking you up. You look very pretty, by the way.”

It’s a simple truth, but you go shy nonetheless, looking up at him through your lashes as your shoulders come up almost imperceptibly. Remus wishes he could squeeze you. “Thanks. So do you.”

He knows you’re just returning the compliment, but if he thinks about you calling him pretty for too long he’ll get as bashful as you and then no one will do the talking. “Thanks, love. These are for you, by the way.” He draws your attention back to its true object, holding the modest bouquet of daisies up for you to take.

“For me?” You manage to seem genuinely surprised, as if Remus might have come to pick you up for a date and brought flowers for somebody else. You take them delicately, bringing them to your nose for a sniff. Remus winces (they don’t smell like anything, he checked), but you don’t seem to notice, beaming at him. “Remus, this is so sweet of you!” You go inside, motioning for him to follow. “Gosh, I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s no problem.” He stands awkwardly by the door as you find a vase in one of your cabinets and start filling it from the tap. “Standard date rules, you know?”

You shake your head, smiling down at your hands as you snip the ends of the stems off with scissors. “No one’s ever gotten me flowers before,” you say, softly enough that Remus could almost miss it, that he wonders if you’re even talking to him.

He blinks at you. “Seriously?”

You give a little shrug, seeming almost embarrassed by your admission. “Yeah.”

There’s an odd conflict between pride and dismay happening in Remus’ chest. It’s sort of devastating to know that no one’s ever done something as simple as this for you before, but he’s happy to be the first.

“If I’d known these were your first gifted flowers,” he says, somewhat sheepish, “I would’ve gotten you something better than just whatever they had at the grocery.”

The look you give him as you emerge from behind the counter, flowers arranged carefully in your vase, borders on offense. “Remus, these are gorgeous,” you chide. “I really love them, thank you so much.”

He still feels you deserve better, but he can’t possibly argue with you when you’re being so lovely. He’ll have to make it up next time. “I’m glad, sweetheart. Are you ready to go?”

You nod cheerily, and it doesn’t escape his notice that you don’t shy from the endearment like you usually would. Maybe it’s that, or maybe it’s the smile still lingering on your lips from the surprise of the flowers, but Remus works up the courage to reach for your hand after you lock your front door behind you. When he gives your fingers a little squeeze, you squeeze back.

756 notes · View notes

calypsocolada · 6 months ago

Text

THE GREATEST | s. gojo

synopsis: the greatest has taken in interest in you. authors note: hello. rough two weeks huh. there are no spoilers in this for chapter 261 fyi. ive decided us gojo stans should just steal him from his creator. Who's in? also i am pretty sure this is the longest fanfic I wrote. I was continusly writing for almost a week after that last chapter. OH AND the song the greatest by billie eilish is about gojo and its devastating. this fic is loosely based of the song. cw: ANGST, light smut, happy ending (he deserves it), no spoilers, death impications, fem reader wc: 6.1k

click here for my masterlist

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

Gojo had never once questioned his fate. He’s known since he was able to think for himself that he was the strongest. That he was the monster people could turn to to fight the other monsters. He never minded. Not much at least. He knew it was grossly unfair. Knew such a fate pressed on anyone else would have him up in arms but… no one was up in arms for him. No one stood between him and the monsters. No one could. That should’ve hurt him and if he was being completely transparent and honest… it used to. When he was a teen and wasn’t able to hide his emotions as well as he could now. He was a weapon to everyone in the jujutsu society. A weapon and a monster and a savior and the greatest that ever lived. He was revered by his fellow colleagues. Was cheered by his students. He was the greatest weapon to ever live.

But not to you. Not in the ways that mattered to most at least.

A measly second grade sorcerer with little to no battle experience. One that spends her time mostly in the background. Wasting away with Ino. Annoying Nanami. Steering clear of the greatest. When you first came around Gojo was sort of intrigued with you. You were quite pretty, smart and had a smile that made others smile. Gojo liked that about you. He’d do his usual routine… It usually worked. Usually… Gojo would annoy you, he’d try and charm you, he’d flex his powers in front of you and buy you sweets you didn’t ask for. Nothing worked.

When he flirted you’d make this face and although he liked the face you’d make he knew you weren’t impressed with him. It was like you saw right through his bravado. Saw right through the mask he wore, right down to the raw center of him. He knew you saw something sad. He tried to ignore it. Tried to misdirect your intuition but god you were persistent. You were smart. Smarter than anyone he’d ever known. And empathic as hell. It was frustrating. Not a single soul saw him the way you did. And it was all for nothing. You didn’t like him the way he’d come to hopelessly like you. And it wasn’t for lack of trying.

Gojo really tried to make you laugh but you never laughed when he wanted you to, never laughed when he made an effort to. You only laughed when he least expected it. Never when he was loud and boisterous but rather in quiet moments. Moments when he forgot to act like the greatest. Moments when he was Gojo Satoru and not the greatest. That’s how he knew you saw right through him.

There was an instance when you completely threw him into a crisis. It was after a particularly gruesome fight. After all was said and done people clapped him on the back, congratulating him on another easy win. Gojo approached you, hoping for that same kind of hollow congratulations but you didn’t give it to him. You asked him if he was alright. Gojo remembered just standing there, remembering the full ache in his chest, the way you looked up at him with concern. No one ever was concerned for him. He replied something jovial. “Of course, don’t you know who you’re talking to?” And he smiled. But you didn’t return that smile as though he reassured you, you smiled sympathetically and replied.

“Must've forgot.” And then you slipped away. Gojo watched you walk away. Watch Ino run up and grab you by the shoulders. Watched you laugh freely and shake your head at something he said before the two of you left.

A week later Gojo had conned Nanami into having some drinks with him. They sat beside each other, Gojo talking to fill up the dead space and Nanami chugging his third drink.

“Are Y/n and Takuma dating?” Gojo had slipped into the conversation. Nanami gave him a sideways look.

“I don’t know.” Nanami replied after a moment, it sounded more like ‘I don’t care’.

“You’re with them all the time.”

“They’re with me. They bug me.” Nanami sees straight as Gojo sighs.

“So they bug you. But do they do it together?”

“What a stupid question.” Nanami admonishes, shaking his head. “Why are you asking?”

“Just curious.”

“About Y/n?” Nanami asked and Gojo couldn’t help but look over at him. Nanami wasn’t much of a gossiper, he listened but that was the extent of it. Nanami softly chuckled at the older man’s response and shook his head once more. “No.”

“No, what?”

“They’re not together.”

That was all Gojo needed. He’d never felt threatened before but after seeing you and Takuma together the other day it made him wonder. Well, more than wonder if his lack of sleep the night before proved anything.

The next time Gojo saw you, you were having a quiet lunch in the courtyard. You had a book held lazily in your hand, the other popping grapes into your mouth. Gojo sighed, he’d tried talking to you many times before but his showboating kept you further than arms length. But if he didn’t have his ego to hide behind… What did he have?

“It’s creepy to watch girls eating from afar.” You called over your shoulder. Gojo startled at the sound of your voice, his heart thumping unsteadily in his chest. You turned and when your eyes met his knees almost buckled. He thought for a moment, after his cheeks flushed red, that you smiled. It was a small smile, the corner of your lips barely turning up before you turned back away from him and to your book. He’d talked up many girls. But none of them made him stumble like you did. Nevertheless, Gojo walked forwards to you.

“Thought you were out on a mission?” He asked as you flipped the page of your book, not meeting his eyes.

“Keeping tabs on me?” She asked lazily as Gojo felt his throat tighten. He cleared it and shook his head.

“Just something I was told.” He says and you scoot over, patting the spot beside you. Gojo stood there stuck for a moment. You usually couldn’t get away from him fast enough but here you were, inviting him to spend a moment with you. You looked up when he didn’t take your offer and cracked a brow up.

“Are you busy?” You asked. Gojo instantly shook his head, coming out of his little stuttered trance. He sat down beside you and reached for some of your grapes without asking. You didn’t say anything about it, just placed your bookmark in your book and sat it down on the blanket you’d spread out. “I wanted… to ask you something?” You said after a beat. Gojo’s eyes flicked to yours and up this close he noticed two things, your eyes had specks of gold in them and there was the lightest dusting of freckles across the top of your nose. He realized he was staring at you too long and recovered by grabbing more grapes.

“Hmm, what is it?” He asks as he pops a few in his mouth.

“Do you like sorcery?” The question hung in the air for a moment. Gojo was silent. He’d… never thought about if he liked it before. Never thought about whether these powers he possessed was something he truly wanted or if it was something he needed.

“Why- do you ask?” Gojo asks, his eyes fixed straight ahead rather than on you.

“Just curious.” You said softly. Gojo couldn’t help but look over at you now.

“Of course I like it. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” He answered and the words tasted sour in his mouth. And just like before you gave him that look, just a small squint of the eyes, your lips pursing barely. He could tell straight away that you heard his lie. You hummed as though intrigued and shifted your stare to be less piercing.

“What’s so great about it?” You asked as Gojo swallowed.

“I’m good at it. I’m the strongest.”

“Yes… everyone is aware you’re the strongest, Satoru.” You brushed off, slightly playfully. Gojo couldn’t get over you saying his name. Saying it that way, with the tiniest emotion in your voice, what he hoped was affection.

“Are you?” Gojo asked. You raised a brow, cocking your head just slightly.

“Am I what?”

“Aware that I’m the strongest.” He says as you blow out a laugh. A laugh, he made you laugh. He recorded it in his mind. He knew he’d probably not get another one of those in a while.

“You don’t let anyone forget it.”

“What do you mean?”

“You go out of your way to prove it. You kill curses that other sorcerers can easily take care of. You put yourself in harm's way over and over again just to get a slap on the back. Of course I know you’re the strongest.”

“I don’t do it for a slap on the back.” Gojo dismisses.

“Why do you do it?”

“Because I have to.”

“Because you have to?” You echo and Gojo nods his head. You stare at him for a moment, before responding. “Cause you’re the strongest.” You didn’t say it as though it was a good thing, you said it as though it was his burden. Something heavy that weighed on his shoulders. It hit him deep. You knew him too well. He felt overexposed at this moment.

“I don’t see anyone else riding my level.” He says, hoping he sounded level, hoping his voice wouldn’t betray him.

“No one’s doubting your skill, Satoru.”

“You seem as though you doubt it.”

“I doubt your intentions.”

“My intentions? What do you think I’m secretly going to let curses in to kill all of you?” He laughs sardonically, a little bitterly. Bitter that she saw him in a worse way than he originally thought. You laughed again, it was more of an exhale through the nose but it was another laugh. Two in one day.

“No. I don’t think that.”

“What do you think?” Gojo couldn’t help but sound the smallest bit desperate. This is the most you two have kept up a conversation and he didn’t want it to end. He wanted to talk to you all day, maybe all night, although that was entirely too much to ask for. It's not like he ever asked for anything for himself before. But he wanted this badly. A normal conversation with someone who seemingly didn’t hold him up on a pedestal.

“I told you already.” You said, reaching for your book. It was like an unspoken end to the conversation. But Gojo didn’t want it to end.

“Please, don’t,” He says suddenly and your hand pauses on the spine of your book. You looked over at him and Gojo knew he wasn’t fast enough to cover the desperation. You swallowed and fixed him with a look.

“I think you’re the strongest sorcerer to ever live.” You spoke as though any louder and someone would overhear you. Your voice soft and eyes piercing into his. His heart stuttered at your words. To know you did think of him. He glanced at your lips as they parted to speak another sentence. “But that’s all you think you are. Just the strongest weapon. Not a person with thoughts and feelings.” You say and Gojo can’t help but stare, can’t help but know he never tricked you, not one bit.

“That’s… dark.” He tried to laugh, and tried to lighten the mood. You gave him a smile, one that stuttered his heart.

“Sure is.” You affirmed. Your hand let go of your book as you reached in your cooler and grabbed two drinks out, offering him one. Slowly he took it. “Or maybe I’m wrong.” You say before taking a sip. “Maybe it’s not that deep.” Gojo takes a sip of his own drink and stays silent. Unsure of whether to bear his heart to you or keep quiet. The strongest would keep quiet. He’d bottle things up, after all being strong means you can take care of yourself. But Gojo found himself wanting to spill his darkest secrets to you. The cunning sorcerer that calls him out. The one he can’t look away from.

“Maybe.” He says finally and the moment is over. He feels hollow. Especially with the way you glance at him, as though somewhat disappointed that there wasn’t more to him but a smiling face and quick witted words. The age old question came back to him.

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

Was strength a part of his identity or was his entire being centered on strength? He certainly didn’t want it to be everything he was but that’s all most people saw when they looked at him. Gojo drank another drink and leaned back on his hands.

“Do you ever think of what you would be if you weren’t a sorcerer?” He asked suddenly. Your eyes cut over to him as you lowered your drink from your lips. It was clear you weren’t expecting that question but at the same time you knew exactly what to say.

“I’m a shit sorcerer.” You said self-deprecatingly. “So I think about it all the time.”

“You’re not so bad.” He says as you turn to look at him. There was a hint of a smirk on your lips.

“Liar.” You admonished jokingly, barely shaking your head. “I know my flaws.”

“What flaws?”

“Alright, sweet talker.”You laughed and Gojo could swear he saw a hint of red on your cheeks. You shook your head as though to keep yourself from laughing more. So this is what it was like? This is who Takuma got to sit and joke around with all day long? Gojo felt sickly jealous when that thought crossed his mind. That he’d wasted all this time trying to flirt with you when he could’ve just talked to you. Sure he still wanted more than what you’d probably give him but this slightest bit of attention could probably keep him afloat for months. You ran a hand through your hair and sighed. “You know… I haven’t told anyone this but… I’ve been thinking of quitting.” You said. Gojo couldn’t help but react. Quit? Is that something you could just do?

“And do what?”

“My parents own a coffee shop back in America, they wanted me to work there out of high school but… you know this seemed more exciting. Now the prospect of fixing someone's coffee seems more exciting than facing some horrific curses.” You explained as Gojo smiled softly, nodding his head along to your words. He thought about it. Thought about coming into work, you waved him over as you explained some gossip about the other workers. Him tying your apron on and kissing your cheek, you ruffling his hair and smiling up at him. Fixing coffee for a living. Would he be the greatest at that? “I think…” you started, snapping him out of his reverie. “I think I might do that.” Gojo’s brows shot up.

“Hmm?”

“Fix coffee. I was good at it in high school. And… I miss my family. I’ve lived too far for too long.” You said, a dreamy far off look in your eyes. Gojo can’t help but feel sort of lost. You leaving was something he never expected. People didn’t leave the Jujutsu world unless it was in a body bag. Gojo didn’t know there was another way.

“You’ve never told anybody else this?” Gojo asks as you look over at him, the ghost of a sweet smile on your lips.

“You’re… easier to talk to than I thought.” You said and Gojo raised his brows.

“What do you mean?” He asks softly.

“I just mean… easier to talk to than before. Before when you’d flirt with me incessantly.” You joke as Gojo reddens. He thought you hadn’t even noticed his attempts but not only did you notice but you avidly avoided him. Gojo bites hit to, cheeks blushing in embarrassment at this revelation.

“I’m… sorry.” He bleated, shaking his head. You laughed, biting your lip.

“I didn’t necessarily say I didn’t enjoy... some of it.” You said and when Gojo looked over at you, eyes hopeful Takuma called out across the lawn. You looked at the other man as he pointed to his watch and waved you over to hurry. “Oh shit. Sorry, Satoru. Gotta get going.” You said jumping up. Gojo followed, helping you gather your stuff up. When he handed you the blanket your hand brushed against his sending chills across his body. You gave him a kind smile and waved as you went to meet with Takuma. Gojo stared for a moment before his feet moved on their own.

“Wait… Y/n,” he called out as you slowed, turning. “If you leave… to go home. I’d like to visit… sometime.” He stumbled through his words, you made him feel like a teenager again. You gave him a look, an amused look, eyes lighting up.

“Anytime, I’ll fix you my favorite.” You said and then you turned and met with Takuma.

Gojo thought about that day all week long. Your voice swimming through his mind. How pretty you looked when he made you laugh. He didn’t flirt, or crack jokes the entire time. He just talked to you. And you seemed to like that. You seemed to like the real him. Not the him he plays up for everyone else. He thought himself into a hole so he got out of bed and winded his way through the hallways towards the lounge, a nice cup of hot tea might help him settle down. When he pushed the door open there you were. Sat at a table, sipping from one of Nanami’s cups. Gojo couldn’t help but show surprise on his face at seeing you up this late. You looked up and when your eyes met Gojo’s words died on his lips.

“Can’t sleep?” You asked as Gojo cleared his throat, nodding his head. “Me neither.” You remarked with a gentle shrug of your shoulders. Gojo fixed himself a cup of tea and sat down across from you.

“Why can’t you sleep?” He asked. You sighed, running a hand through your hair.

“I got a flight in the morning. I’m sort of— uncomfortable with flying.” You said as Gojo couldn’t help but softly smile at you. It was endearing to him that you’d lose sleep over something like that. You gave him a look and barely smirked, shaking your head.

“Where you headed?” He asks. The smile on your lips slightly falters.

“You didn’t hear?” You ask as Gojo’s brows furrow. He shakes his head. “I did it. Like we talked about a week or so ago. I’m headed home.” You say and Gojo can’t help but let his lips fall open in surprise again. Thinking about it was one thing but doing it so soon had his stomach in knots. You stared at him, drinking in his minuscule reactions. “Today was my last day.” You added as though that would soothe the pain in his chest. He couldn’t look up any longer so he let his eyes fall on his steaming cup of tea.

“Oh.” Was all he said. Anything more would’ve been too revealing.

“I— meant to tell you but… you’re so busy all the time.” You said and Gojo looked up then. You didn’t owe him your apologies.

“It’s fine. You— we talked about it. I just didn’t think you’d want to leave so soon.”

“I’ve been itching to leave for months.” You said with a small turn of your lips. “This job isn’t for the weak and although I’m not entirely terrible I’m not exactly good either.” You laughed. Gojo shook his head, he disagreed with that both times you said it, but he didn’t voice it this time cause it seemed you understood. “It might be childish but I just miss home.” You sigh as Hojo shakes his head immediately.

“It’s not childish.” He says and finally your guys' eyes meet. You’d be gone in the morning for good and Gojo hadn’t so much as gotten to know you passed a few brief talks. He felt slighted. It was his fault of course but he couldn’t help the bitter feeling that left him wanting more.

“I… wish we could’ve talked like this sooner, we could’ve been friends.” You said and it was like the nastiest stake to the heart. He knew you didn’t mean it to hurt him because you didn’t know how he felt and he couldn’t only blame himself for that.

“I do too.” He said softly. You two couldn’t look away from one another. Something dangerous growing, some tension that kept you rooted in this moment. Gojo was the strongest but you never really saw him with anyone. Sure he’d occasionally have drinks with Nanami but for the most part he was alone. It felt stupid to feel anything now, with you leaving in the morning. And unbeknownst to Gojo you had something that formed over the few years you knew him. He intrigued you, he was so strong so sure of himself one moment but there was this look in his eyes. Like a scream for help. He was constantly sent on missions alone, he’d come back battered and bruised and smiling, a smile so fake to you but so real to the others that couldn’t see past it.

You tried once, pathetically, to ask him if he was alright and stupidly gave up when he kept that mask up. You just didn’t want to step over a line and push him further away. But the years you spent here you were unknowingly doing it anyways. Dodging his obvious attempts at flirting because you weren’t sure if they were sincere or not and you couldn’t stand the thought of getting hurt. But here you were, hours away from never seeing this man again. You lied about being afraid of flights, you flew many times. The reason you couldn’t sleep was because of the ‘what if?’. What if you had flirted back years ago? Would you be hurt and jaded towards him? Or wouldn’t you have cracked through something deeper? Would you two be together? Would you be here? Watching him being used by a society that doesn’t care for him or would you steal him away from all this? Take him home and have him fix coffee at your side. Would he be happy or would he be bored? Gojo’s eyes glanced at the clock on the stove.

“It’s getting late. You should try to sleep so you don’t miss your flight.” He said, drinking the last of his tea.

There was some sort of finality to that. You nodded your head, drinking the rest of yours as well. You stood up and walked to the sink, running water and washing your cup. When you turned the water off and dried your hands, Gojo approached. He sat his mug in the sink. He paused for a moment, as if contemplating something then spoke in an almost whisper.

“Fuck it.” Before you could begin to ask he turned, hands sliding over your cheeks and bent to press his lips gently against yours. You froze. The kiss was unexpected and stomach achingly tender. Gojo kissed you as though he loved you. With gentleness and persistence. He stepped closer, your body trapped between his own and the counter.

No, no, no… you thought.

Why kiss me when I’m leaving?

But there wasn’t a bone in you that didn’t want this and the revelation was anything but not obvious. You’d know with startling accuracy that you wanted this to happen. You just wished it would’ve happened sooner. You felt the kiss deepen. Gojo ducking his head ever so closer. One hand trailing down from your face, light fingers dancing down your shoulder, past your arm around your hip, fingers gripping and pulling you flush against him. You made a soft noise, your stomach bottoming out as Gojo’s mouth cracked yours open. His hand slid beneath your butt and with ease he picked you up with that one hand and sat you carefully on the counter. The hand on your cheek slid behind your head so you didn’t bump against the cabinets. You two stay like that for a while, feeling out the boundaries that were breaking by the second.

Gojo brushes a lock of hair behind your ear and trails kisses from your lips to your cheek to your jaw and neck. Your head falls back and to the side, your hands softly gripping the front of his shirt, something to keep you the least bit grounded in the moment. You needed to be grounded while Gojo was absolutely drunk on you. He couldn’t believe this was happening, all he knew was that he wouldn’t squander this moment. When you left he wanted you to remember him. You shiver at the sudden more feverish kisses and slide your cold hand beneath his shirt. Gojo doesn’t even jump, he makes a low sound in the back of his throat.

His grip on your hip tightening just slightly before sliding around your back, his warm fingers sliding under the hem of your shirt. You arched closer to him as he moved his lips back to yours, you met his lips with the same fevered kisses as him. You gently tugged Gojo’s shirt up and he moved away from your lips temporarily to let you tug his shirt over his head. His body was scared and lean, you traced a few of his scars with a light tip of the finger and when you looked back up at him he was looking at you with a curious expression. You cleared your throat.

“Do you want to do this now? Here?” You asked, gesturing to the dimly lit lounge.

“Do you?” He turned it back on you, his voice wrecked with wanting. You could see the answer clearly in his eyes, he didn’t care where you two were. He’d want you regardless. You thought about it. Was it meaningless to do it here? Would it be better to take him to your room? You were leaving for good in the morning, would it be a mistake to have a one night stand with the strongest? But the wording of one night stand seemed cruel, seemed so unlike what you two were actually doing. It felt deeper. And if it was deeper, were you going home tomorrow with a torn heart? Your hands were still on his stomach, still pressed near a scar. You did want this… but you couldn’t want it. That was the thing all along. Satoru Gojo was going to get himself killed one day. Sure he was the strongest but you could see him wearing down. The scars weren’t healing, he looked tired. Getting involved with him was insuring yourself of a broken heart. You sighed and shook your head.

“We… shouldn’t.” You said and you couldn’t look up at him. You didn’t want to see how he would react. If you did look up at him you’d see just how much two words could break Satoru Gojo. He couldn’t mask it anymore. He wanted so badly to mean more to you. He wanted to be bare in front of you and for you not to flinch away. But you were flinching away and he knew it. It made him sick. Gojo grabbed his shirt and pulled it back on. Your hands fell away from him as you slid off the counter top.

“Can… I ask why?” He said and you knew it wasn’t about sleeping together. It was the deeper sort of question.

“Cause you’d break my heart.” You answered simply. Gojo looks at you. Break your heart? He’d rather die than do that.

“What do you mean?” He asked, his voice soft, he wasn’t angry, just wanted to understand.

“You’re… Satoru Gojo,” you gestured. “You’re the strongest. The greatest sorcerer. You… don’t make time to be anything but that.” You say, eyes meeting his for the first time since your rejection. And then he understood your meaning.

“What if I did? What if I left it behind?”

“What if?” You asked back. “You’d need something more fulfilling to fill in the gap.” You supplied.

“I found something like that.” He says suddenly.

“Like what?”

“You.” For a moment you two stare at each other.

“I can’t… I don’t want to stay here.”

“I’m not asking you to stay. I— I’m asking you to let me come with you.” Your eyebrows shot up, eyes wide. You were shocked by his words. Spoken with such conviction.

“Satoru…” you said, unable to quite grasp this statement yet.

“I mean it. I… I could go with you. Work beside you… be with you… if you’ll have me.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am deadly serious, Y/n. I’m not willing to sit here and pretend like you don’t mean everything to me. You’ve consumed my every waking moment. You’re all I can think about, all I dream about. I— I fear if I stay behind and don’t take this chance… I might as well just end up dead.”

“Oh...” But his confession was breathtaking. Your heart was in your throat, beating and causing words to falter.

“I’ll be your friend if you want. I’ll be whatever you want me to be. Just,” he takes a step closer and you have a sick feeling he’s never wanted something for himself as much as he wanted you at this moment. “Take me with you.” Your throat went dry as you gazed up at him. The things you were afraid of, of him choosing to stay, of him fighting alone and fighting to his grave had vanished in an instant with his words. So he was willing to choose between you and sorcery. Not only willing but had made his choice long ago and just now felt confident enough to let you in on it. Not to mention he’d made this decision long before your two’s lips even touched, that was a whole other story to unfold. His feelings for you were much deeper than you previously thought. Those dreams of stealing him away from the people that used him had dropped, real and tangible, in your hands. Your mind swam.

“Don’t… you think you’d get bored?” You asked, but your head tilted and there was the ghost of a smile on your lips. All the tension that had been wrecking Gojo’s body soothed right at that moment. He couldn’t help but smile.

“No. I really don’t think I would.” He answers earnestly. That ghost of a smile turned into a full formed apparition of a smile as you laughed.

“We’ll see about that.” You said and you barely got the words out before he was kissing you again. No warning, all urgency. To feel you again. “Should we go back to my room?” You whispered as the kiss grew slightly more heated.

“Mhm hm.” Gojo hummed, picking you up with ease and tossing you over his shoulder. You gasped in surprise as he walked towards your room.

“You’re an idiot.” You laughed quietly.

“What? You’d think I’d let you walk all the way there?” He asks teasingly as you dissolve into quiet giggles.

“All the way there,” you mocked with a shake of the head. “Like I don’t do it everyday.”

“Not on my watch.” He says, rounding the corner to your room.

“What— what the hell?” You heard Nanami’s voice then and your face went bright red. Gojo didn’t sit you down, just tipped his head to the blond man and kept walking. You on the other hand covered your face and silently cursed Gojo out.

“You have a filthy mouth.” Gojo said as he rounded the final corner, your room steps away.

“Set me down you idiot.” You groaned. And he did but the moment your feet touched the floor his lips were back on yours, pressing you into your closed door. The kiss was needy. He must’ve been waiting a long time to kiss you in the first place. Those first two kisses were something but this one was different. It was like he’d rather kiss you than breathe as you fumbled with the lock and opened the door.

You two tumbled inside, Gojo catching the door in his hand and pushing it shut behind you two as you stumbled towards the bed. Gojo couldn’t go another day without choking out what you meant to him, without showing you. He could feel it in his shoulders when he breathed, feel it in the uncomfortable twist and flip his heart would do around you. Could feel it swirling around in his sleepless nights. He was going to show it to you. Going to convey exactly what he felt.

He pressed his kisses harder, pushed you against the bed. Kissed any surface of your body his lips could find. Savored the noises you made. You spoke muffled against his neck, his name, the sound so sweet and utterly perfect on your lips. He never cared much for his name until he heard you speak it. He exhales sharply, his breath shuddering. He feels your deft fingers slide beneath his shirt again then to the waistband of his pants. You pause and when he speaks a shaky please you slip the pants down past his hips and he kicks the useless thing fully off. He does the same for you and suddenly you both are undressed. Equal, more or less. He kisses you a few more times to hide his nerves and just for a moment lets himself slip into the role of the strongest. He takes the lead, his hands parting your thighs as he trails kisses to your neck. He lines himself up, your hand just barely guiding him, there’s not much thoughts that go into his brain when he enters you. You both make a sound in the dark. Your hands sliding around him to his back, nails digging in there.

“Satoru…” You whimper and he has to will himself not to come right then and there. He goes slow at first, letting you get used to the size. Your bodies are pressed together, he’s practically crushing you beneath him but you wouldn’t have it any other way. One of your hands grabbed his chin, yanking his lips against yours as he picked up his pace. He swallowed your moans and vice versa. He ground his hips against yours, loving the hitch in your breath. He did it again and again until you couldn’t kiss him back anymore and he couldn’t keep his head up, it fell into the crook of your neck as you came together. you both pull back, exhausted and Gojo’s surprised when you start laughing. He stares at you open mouthed, never once after doing something like that with a girl had she started laughing after. “S-sorry,” you giggled, shaking your head. He smiles despite not knowing what you found so amusing. “That was… well I’m sure you know you’re good.” You blushed. “I just— it’s a bit unbelievable.”

“Hmm? What is?” Gojo asks as he pulls the cover up to shield you from the cold of your room.

“I was just… very wrong about you. For a long time. That’s all.” You said as you sat up, grabbing your night clothes and slipping them back on. Gojo does the same and expects that you’ll kick him out to sleep in his own room. “Hey,” you call out, patting the bed next to you. “Stay the night.” You say. You don’t have to tell him twice, he’s already practically back in your bed by the end of your sentence. You pull him close, laying your head against his chest as his arm winds around you. “I’m a clingy sleeper, just so you know.” You say and Gojo lets his eyes fall closed, a content smile on his lips as he kisses the top of your head.

“So am I.” He whispers back to you, slightly turning to pull you closer to him. He feels you hum a laugh. For the first time in years Gojo fell asleep with ease, he didn’t have to be haunted with visions of you because you were real and tangible against him. And he’d never felt more fulfilled, more excited to leave all this bullshit behind and not be the greatest for once.

#satoru gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fanfic #gojo satoru x you #gojo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu gojo #satorugojo #gojou satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #fem reader #jjk x reader #jjk

211 notes · View notes