#for eight years I’ve been waiting for this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tonycries · 1 year ago

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Welcome To The Itadori's! - C.K.

Synopsis. Three times Choso really, really wanted to hold you without his family barging in, and the one time he actually does.

Pairing. Best friend! Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, childhood best friends to lovers, slowburn, cameos from the Itadori’s (Yuji, Jin, grandpa, SUKUNA), smút only when they’re adults, first times, oral (female receiving), cúnnilingus, marking, rough, Choso’s a bit mean in bed, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.0k

A/N. The unc-kuna brainrot got me here, Yuji’s family tree is HILARIOUS.

“You’ve never what?”

“I mean, yeah? So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”

Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t. Whatever the answer was, Choso could only pray that no one walked into your apartment right now.

---

Choso swears his family is well and fully intent on ruining every waking moment with you.

He’s convinced even, at this point. Because in the 13 long years of being inseparable from you - ever since you were both whiney, snot-faced brats - Choso’s racked up more interruptions than he’s seen on those k-dramas that his grandfather swears he doesn’t watch.

It was like some cosmic joke, really. All he wanted was a moment with just the two of you…and maybe a second or two to confess his undying love. But that didn’t seem too realistic when the Itadori’s were a bit of a packaged deal, unfortunately.

Alas, Choso’s resigned himself to accept the fact that maybe - just maybe - this was the universe’s way of telling him that his pretty best friend was indeed too good for him. Something he’s suspected ever since the both of you were eight.

The realization had hit him like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact. And a whole zoo of animals afterward.

Of course, it’s not like that was any secret. He always thought you were perfect from the second you’d moved in - that new family next door he’d been eagerly waiting ages to arrive. And Choso, being the dutiful oldest son, was the one to deliver welcome cookies to your doorstep. Stumbling, and carefully trying to reach for the doorbell without dropping any.

“Um, welcome to-”

“Your hair’s funny.”

Now, Choso’s never greeted neighbors before, but it surely wasn’t supposed to go like this. Why was he being insulted by some little girl - you were missing a few teeth, and his had just grown back in so obviously he was much older and wiser. All unapologetic smiles and twinkling eyes as you blink up curiously at his space buns. Pretty, even when you were tearing his heart out because hey, he thought this hairstyle was cool, okay?

Which is what had him huffing and puffing back home, running straight into the arms of his dad while he tried not to cry. That is, until you came knocking at his door with your parents. Very much bawling and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug with wet mumbles of “M’sorry, meant your hair’s very cool. Wanna match-”

And, if his cheeks burned just a bit, well, Choso blamed the tears.

After a disaster like that, of course you’d grow to be best friends within the day.

But what that didn’t explain was when - after hours of bickering over whether to play tag or house - you were all tuckered out and sat beside him in a corner of his room, too exhausted to talk his ear off. Head lolling once. Twice. Falling softly onto his shoulder.

Oh.

Now, Choso might just be having the first epiphany of his entire, grueling eight years in this world - that you were very, very pretty fast asleep with your head on his shoulder.

Why? Why were you here barging into his life and turning it upside down? Calling him your “new best friend” and dragging him along wherever you went. It made his poor head absolutely spin, not daring to move a muscle so that you didn’t wake up and see this tiny predicament.

He didn’t know why. But what he did know was that he found himself subconsciously reaching for your hand, a strange little part of himself wanting to see how much smaller they were than his. They looked so soft and warm and-

“I WANNA PLAY T- Oh.”

Oh indeed. He hastily lurches away from you like it burned, hands raised like he was caught red-handed. Feeling slightly sorry when he sees you blinking away the sleep to take in your surroundings, eyes bouncing off of a very excited Yuji and resting on the clock.

“Oh no. Mommy’s gonna be mad.” you gasp, hastily getting up. And he feels a weird pang as you quickly dust down your dress, running out the door with a laughed out, “Bye, Yuji! See ya later, Cho~!”

“Bye, crybaby.”

And then it’s quiet. Only Choso still staring after you, and Yuji staring at his older brother, somewhat awestruck and wondering only one thing-

“Big bro, why are you so red?”

Choso doesn’t think he’s gotten a moment alone with you since that first initial meeting.

Fourteen was definitely the worst, in his opinion.

“Hey, Cho, y’know the girl sitting next to me in math said she had her first kiss today.”

“Oh.” It’s all Choso can manage to get out, paying more attention than he should to the gravel beneath him as he tries not to trip over air beside you. Hot under his uniform collar at the sudden shift in conversation from the usual after-school banter.

Looping your arm with his, you heave out a playful sigh, “I wonder what that feels like. Have you ever thought about it?”

No, but Choso has never thought that he’d be here - face burning at your body pressed up against his. Just knowing that his ancestors above are laughing at what a loser he is, barely able to stammer out an answer to your question.

Okay, maybe he was being dramatic. Because it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about kissing before - it’s just that whenever it popped into his mind, you were usually accompanying him. Along with those strange thoughts of whether your lips are as soft as they looked? Or would your heartbeat be as fast as-

“Man, are you even listening?”

Shit.

Your hand waving in front of Choso’s face brings him back to reality. Blinking hastily, he tries to gather his thoughts, mumbling out a quick, “Uh, yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought.” averting his gaze as he feels the heat rise to his cheeks at your intense gaze.

Your smile only widens, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you nudge his side. “Thinking so hard about kissing, huh? Cho, you lecher!”

“Am not.”

“Am to.”

“Am not.”

“Am to.”

“Who were you imagining it with, huh? Gonna give ‘em a big smooch tomorrow?”

God, you were going to be the death of him. “N-no! I haven’t even- shut up, crybaby, it’s not like-” he sputters out useless protests over your laughter - his favorite song, even when you were teasing the hell out of him. But ah how you relish in his embarrassment, tittering out little giggles all the way until you’re steering him onto your lane.

Choso, on the other hand, keeps wishing the ground would swallow him up more and more with each step towards his porch. He’d have broken into a sprint right then if he hadn’t known you and the way you’d race him there instead.

“Alright.” you declare once you’re stood at his front door, jolting Choso out of his reverie. And he’s barely opening his mouth to register your words before you plowing on confidently. “We’ll just have to practice our first kisses with each other.”

Perfect. Great. Wonderful.

The final nail on his coffin. You might as well have planted a bombshell right in the middle of his already-chaotic world with the way he was reeling in- shock? Fear? Anticipation?

“Practice.” Choso whispers, more to himself than you. Yet you nod anyway, eyes locked with his like you were studying his reaction. “For…practice.”

Doubt starts to creep into your pretty features, “Well, we don’t have to if you do-”

“No no no no, I want- ahem.” he cringes at the pathetic desperation in his voice. Desperately trying to scramble back some semblance of sanity as he clears his throat, “I want to. Just-” Choso urgently looks around for- ah, there it is.

Dragging over the brick from the side of his porch because goddammit he might be 14 but he sure hadn’t hit that growth spurt yet. “Practice, right?”

You nod with a fiery determination that, later on, would make Choso chuckle with fondness. Muttering out a firm, “Practice.” Letting the boy in front of you nervously leans closer, breath fanning your face. And shit if you were nervous then you didn’t show it, but Choso felt like he was about to spontaneously combust.

Brows furrowing in concentration, eyes only squinting ever-so-slightly as he takes peaks at how pretty you looked. Close enough that he could count every lash as your pretty eyes closed shut, lips glistening with that strawberry chapstick you loved, puckering adorably. Only inching closer and-

Click!

“You two are so cute! But um- dear, how do you mute this thing?”

You spring apart so fast that Choso wouldn’t be surprised if you’d teleported. He doesn’t even know what’s happening before, from the safety of about three meters away from him, you’re muttering out an embarrassed little, “Hi there, Mr. Itadori. The gardenia are coming along nicely.”

His dad smiles like he hadn’t just starred in what was likely Choso’s villain origin story. Waving happily, “Aww, thank you, sweetheart. Now, why don’t you two go back to doing your lil’ thing and I can ah- practice my photography.”

“Dad, I’m running away.”

That practice kiss never happens. And, well, if there was a proudly framed photo down the hallway of the two of you - with Choso absolutely bright red and standing comically on a brick to meet your height, faces nervously scrunching towards each other - well, neither of you ever mention it. Jin Itadori does, though - every time you come over, in fact.

It’s only when you’re both eighteen, when Choso’s a lot deeper in his feelings - and only slightly less embarrassed about it - that he thinks that maybe not all family interruptions were that bad.

Graduation was…something. Not exactly something that he’s sure if he’ll ever want to relive with the sheer amount of awkward photos and tears that his dad lets out. God if he has to shuffle into another-

“You alright, Cho?”

Ah.

Traitorously, a smile makes its way onto his face, peering down at your beaming face. Both of you having made it way past the awkward early teens. Well, at least you certainly have - Choso still feels like the same awkward little boy with an even more awkward crush. “Hm? Yeah, m’great.”

“Are ya sure? Because you look like you’re about to have an aneurysm any second now.” you raise a brow teasingly. Ah, how gorgeous you were - even when you’re picking him apart.

“Yeah. Great. Only had this smile plastered on for the last five hours.”

“Aww, but you look so pretty smiling.” you shrug, with the audacity of someone that didn’t just have Choso’s knees dangerously weak. “Anyway- A bunch of us are gonna try to convince ol’ Yaga to let us take photos with his shades, you wanna come?”

“You think m’pretty?” he muses, embarrassingly late.

“Cho.”

“Yaga. Shades. Got it.” Choso mock salutes, drinking in the little laugh it startles out of you, eyes sparkling with mischief and looking right into his soul. Beautiful. You were always beautiful.

And Choso can’t just stand around and do nothing about it.

“Crybaby, look, I-” Fists clenching, he takes a steadying breath. The heat only rising to his cheeks at your awaiting gaze, “I…”

“HEY, GRANDPA HELPED STEAL YAGA’S SHADES LET’S TAKE A PIC-”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP ITADORI. YOU’RE RUINING A MOMENT, LET THEM HAVE THEIR MOMENT.”

“I don’t know either of you two.”

It would be a miracle for a moment not to be ruined with two overly-energetic first-years (and a very reluctant Fushiguro) pushing their way into your little bubble. Choso bites back a groan as you’re immediately swarmed by a bickering Kugisaki and Yuji, one apologizing for “ruining your k-drama moment” and the other trying to get you to put on some sunglasses. Well, at least he could empathize with the black-haired boy, who gave him an apologetic nod.

He’s only halfway through waving off the interruption before a voice speaks up from his side. “Why didn’t you say it?”

Whirling around, Choso comes face-to-face with the disappointed look on his grandfather’s face. Already having some idea of what you mean, “Wha-”

“I may be old but m’not deaf, yet, boy. Why didn’t ya tell her?” he sighs, tilting his head to where you were wearing those shades and taking ridiculous pictures with two animated first-years.

“I don’t know what you-”

“M’not blind, either. Quite frankly I’m insulted.”

And, well, if there’s anyone that he can’t hide from - it would be his grandfather. So he heaves out a defeated sigh, touselling his hair while muttering out a pathetic little, “M’not- Ugh, she’s too fuckin’ perfect and I…I chickened out.”

Choso doesn’t know what he expected in response but it definitely wasn’t for his grandfather to laugh. Full, and raspy - loud enough that even you stop to stare. “Thought so, idiot boy.” he chuckles, drawing indignant protests. “Did she tell you?”

Raising a brow, “What?”

“Did she tell you that you weren’t good ‘nough for her?”

“No, but-” Whatever protest on the tip of Choso’s tongue is cut off by a rough hand smacking his back in what he thinks is reassurance, but felt more like a punishment for being such a pussy around you all these years.

“Then go. Ya might just be surprised. After all, you’re my grandson, and all the ladies at bingo love me.”

Shaking with both adrenaline and the effort to keep that image out of his mind, he makes his way towards you. Purposeful. Pointedly ignoring the matching smirks flashed his way.

“You really think they’ll finally get together today?” Fushiguro deadpans from where he’d snuck up beside the old man, in an attempt to escape the public nuisances he calls ‘friends’.

Choso’s grandfather hums thoughtfully, watching the scene play out before him - Choso flushed such a delicate shade of pink as you playfully put Yaga’s sunglasses on him. Settling on a gruff, “I’ll give it a few months more. He’s my grandson, after all.”

“That’s generous. I’d give it a couple years more.”

“Wanna bet, brat?”

“...”

Safe to say, his second button ended up safely in your hands that day. But Fushiguro would be the one to really win the bet.

Because it was only 2 years, 4 months and 3 weeks after this little incident that Choso finally had you exactly where he wanted - with no interruptions. All for him.

Freshly twenty one, splayed out on your apartment bedroom and having a conversation that he never in a million years would’ve even dared to imagine he’d have - with you of all people. All because of that stupid R-rated film you’d put on for movie night.

“You’ve never what?” you gape, turning down the volume to those painfully fake moans coming from the tv.

Oh, how gorgeous you looked - all shocked and batting your lashes up at him in surprise. Choso almost swoons inwardly (and outwardly) before he realizes that shit you were probably waiting for an answer.

“I mean, yeah?” he sputters out, cheeks heating up as you lean in closer to hear him. Close. “So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”

Goddammit, some strange, carnal part of himself twinges dangerously at the little smirk that curls your lips. One that he quickly - and embarrassingly - realizes has the blood rushing straight to his cock. Humming a low, “Maybe. Maybe not.” The mattress dips slightly as you shift closer, lips ghosting his ear. “Want me to help you find out?”

Which is, well, how Choso found himself shoved against the armrest. Blanket thrown on the floor now, swollen cock leaking furiously through his pants as your pretty lil’ cunt hovers above his mouth. So wet that if he stuck his tongue out he could have you dripping all onto him.

“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” he hisses despite his hands looping around your thighs, bringing you closer to him.

You raise a brow, “Are you sure, Cho?”

He should say no. He should laugh this all off as a bad joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wants just a taste of your dripping pussy - see if she’s as sweet as the rest of you is. So, throwing caution to the wind, Choso nods slowly. “Yes. Want it s’bad.”

Grinning wickedly, you whisper, “Thought so.” And then he’s pulling you onto his mouth, hot and urgent.

“Oh fuck-” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the first taste of your sweet sweet juices. “Shit shit shit.” So sloppily licking up your swollen folds - barely moving with any method or patience, just that he’s drunk on your pussy and wants more more more-

“Hngh- f-fuck. You sure this is your hah- first time, Cho?” you gasp breathlessly. And oh your best friend was so fucking beautiful. Dark hair untied and tousled, eyes half-hooded, your slick already smearing across the bottom half of his face and trickling down his jaw because shit he was so messy. So addicted to that desperate expression on your face that he just can’t help but tease you a little bit.

“Mhm?” he smirks, tongue swirling around your pulsing clit. Purposefully missing right where you wanted him the most because shit he loved those cute lil’ whines spilling out of you.

You let out a huff, hips trying pathetically to inch him closer - but Choso wasn’t budging. Holding you so firmly by the hips that you’re sure he leaves bruises, licking all over your cunt except for your clit. “Cho.” you warn. Brows furrowing in frustration at the way he bats his long lashes up at you so deceivingly innocently, “What?”

“You know…”

“I don’t.” he titters teasingly into your pussy.

“Choso.”

Now, Choso’s known and seen everything there is to do with you - but never like this. Spread open shamefully and pouting so adorably on top of him, so needy for him. It made his head spin to think of just how much the dynamics had shifted.

Shit, he really should’ve watched that godforsaken movie with you sooner. “Tell me what you want, crybaby.”

And oh how his cock twitches at the way you manage to get out an embarrassed little, “Wan’ you to ngh- tonguefuck me properly. Wanna cum on your pretty face, Cho.”

And that’s all that’s said before he’s surging forward, glossy lips wrapping around your pulsing clit to suck harshly. Rolling his soft tongue over and over-

“Wanted this for so long.” Choso mutters, muffled as he buries himself deeper into your pretty pussy. The vibrations sending white-hot pleasure running down your spine. “You have absolutely no idea, pretty.”

And you barely even have the time to register his little confession before Choso’s moving down to bully his tongue past your folds. Nose pressing against your throbbing clit as he dips into your sloppy hole.

“Oh shit. Jus’ like that.” For a beginner, your best friend really knew what he was doing. Eating you out like his favorite meal, tongue squeezing into your snug pussy to thrust in and out, swipe against your walls, stretching you out right to his will. Over and over-

“Use me.”

Your eyes snap down to meet the pure adoration in his eyes as he makes out filthily with your cunt. Choking out a little, “What?”

“Use me.”

There it was again - that strained little mantra. And as if to prove his point, Choso reaches out to deftly place your hands on his head, bucking into you touch.

And, well, how could you say no to that?

Because before you know it, you’re bunching Choso’s soft strands in your fists. Angling him just right to ride his pretty face. “C’mon, Cho. Ngh- H-harder, jus’ a bit- Oh!” he just devours the way your mouth drops into an adorable little oh! as his tongue curls deftly against that one spot. Again and again. Letting himself be so used, dragging your dripping cunt harder on his mouth.

And he likes it. Hell, he loves it even - because you’re so sweet n’ pretty on his mouth. Better than everything he’s ever been dreaming of for the past few years. And always in his dreams, you’d be clenching so deliciously around his tongue when you were close - just like right now.

So he speeds up his movements, breathing you in maddeningly. A hand snaking down from it’s favorite place on your hips to draw quick, frenzied little circles on your poor, ravaged clit. Jaw almost aching with how filthily he was dripping in and out of your entrance - be he did give a shit. Only wanting to have you breathless and creaming all over his face.

You jerk violently on top of him, “Hah! S’too much, Cho. M’so close- gonna cum- gonna-”

And then you’re cumming. Fast, and hard.

Plushy walls clamping down on Choso’s tongue, hips stuttering on his face as he laps up all your juices, an arm around your waist helping you ride his face through your high.

“S’sweet. Could get used to that.” he slurs into your cunt. Tipping his head back as far as it’d go to let the last of your juices slide down his throat. “Better than I imagined.”

The words ring in your ears as you blink back your vision. Deliriously whirling down to look down at Choso - still beneath you and looking more smug and content than you’d ever seen him. “Imagination? S’that why you’re so good.”

“No.”

You’re being flipped before you know it. Manhandled so easily by your best friend as he lays you on your back, sinking into the cushion while he looms above you. “S’jus’ that…” grunting as he flings his shirt off, “Been dreaming of your pretty cunt on m’tongue for years.”

Okay, now his confession hits - more than it did when he was tonguefucking you into insanity, anyway.

“Years, huh?” you breathe out, eyes roaming all over his sculpted torso. Taking in every dip and curve of Choso’s toned abs - all the way from his broad shoulders to the rock-hard cock straining against his pants. As if in a trance, your hand reaches out to cup his leaking erection, “S’that all you’ve been dreaming of?”

“You little minx.” he lets out a low hiss.

Before you can even react, Choso’s fumbling with that belt - cursing because shit, he’d have worn sweatpants instead if he knew they’d end up on your floor.

And you’re not any better, fingers popping open his buttons and tugging impatiently and oh- You always thought that your best friend would have a big dick - but this? He was so intimidatingly long - and thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. Fat tip flushed such a pretty shade of pink to match his cheeks, leaking down down down, all the way to his heavy balls.

You’re only jolted out of your little reverie by Choso spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering cunt, spreading it lazily across your pussy with his thumb. A ringed fist pumping his cock slowly, as he drags his tip across your folds, pooling your sweet juices. Muttering out a raspy, “I’ll be gentle.”

“You better not be, now jus’ fuck me-”

Well, you didn’t have to ask Choso twice. Because you’ve barely gotten the words out before he’s bullying massive cock into your tight cunt. Pressing in inch by fucking inch as you gasp and buck underneath him.

“Shhh, s’okay, crybaby. This is what you wanted, right?” he mumbles, with all the audacity of someone that wasn’t fucking into you in rapid, mindless little jabs to fit inside your snug lil’ pussy. Struggling to hold back at this point. “Wanted to be split apart on m’cock?”

You were so full of him. Even more so when he throws your legs over his shoulders, bending all the way down and folding you in half so easily beneath him.

He drinks in the barely-lucid squeal that leaves your swollen lips. Kissing your forehead gently, whispering against the skin, “Because I’ve wanted this for so fucking long.”

And then it was like something snapped - maybe his sanity, maybe the restraint that Choso’s been holding back for too long. Because immediately he’s plunging his throbbing cock into you - all the way till his balls, all angry and squeezing so painfully, smacks against your ass.

“Wanted this.” he rasps into your open mouth. His hips were out of control now, thrusting you in shallow, desperate rams. Pounding into you like a man possessed, and running his mouth just as much. He laces his fingers on top of your head, pushing you down even deeper into his relentless cock - as if the bastard wasn’t fucking you dumb already. “Fuckin’ needed this needed this. Shit- so bad.”

“Ch-Choso- fuck hah-” you plead as his mouth clashes with yours. All sloppy with teeth and spit and his profanities - and it felt so damn good.

“Yeah? Who’s fucking you silly, now?” he’s going harder now, tip hitting your poor cervix over and over. And you’d be sobbing at the burn and the stretch but all you can think of is shit this is Choso - the kid you used to play hide and seek with. And now he seems fully intent on breaking you. “Say m’name.”

A rough thumb starts toying with your clit, in time with the cute lil’ whines of his name that escape your mouth like a prayer. “Shit. Y’look so pretty like this.” he babbles. “Gonna cry, pretty girl?” smirking down at the way you were too cockdrunk to even snap back, only looking up at him with delirious, teary eyes. “Be a crybaby for my cock?”

You’re tugging on his hair, thighs shaky and bucking upwards. “Cho-”

“Mhm?”

“W-wanna cum. Need you to fill m’up till I can’t take it anymore.”

Oh if Choso was any lesser man he’d have cum right then and there. Instead settling for a guttural groan, drunk off the way you were milking his cock so hard as if to prove your point. It almost made him want to stay like this forever. But no - not right now.

“Oh yeah?” Hips becoming sloppy now, “Need it? Shit- m’so close.” Each word slurred, punctuated by a harsh thrust, strokes long and frenzied. Using your heavenly pussy like his personal fucktoy. So hard that he’s sure you’d have embarrassing matching bruises tomorrow - his balls on your ass, your nails raking down his shoulders.

“Me too- fuck fuck fuck-” you mewl into his neck, as Choso buried his face into yours.

“Cum f’me, my girl.”

My girl.

And then you are - and he is. And you don’t know who cums first, just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes and Choso’s teeth digging into your neck as he thrusts once. Twice. Before cumming and cumming so hard he might as well have seen the pearly gates of heaven. And you were an angel.

Thick, hot ropes of cum that paint your walls white, so much that it gushes out of your poor overfilled pussy. Dripping down your legs and pooling into a sinful, creamy ring at his base.

“Mm- shit. Choso.” you moan, barely audible over the lewd squelches from below.

“M’here, my girl.” he grits out, voice shot. And it seems that that was his new favorite nickname, because Choso keeps murmuring it over and over as he keeps fucking his seed into you. Not even thinking about it at this point - just mindless, shallow grinds of his hips.

In the haze of your orgasm, you think you hear his quiet voice, strained with exhaustion and something that you weren’t in the right state of mind to decipher right now.

“Shhh, m’here. “Can’t believe I waited so fuckin’ long.” Whispering against your lips, “Love this. Love this pretty cunt.” Kissing softly, “Love the way y’take me. Fuckin’ made f’me.” And maybe even a soft little, “Love you.”

And maybe - just maybe, you whisper the same into his. Kissing him softly, exactly the way you’d wanted to all these years.

Neither of you speak after that. Not when Choso’s hips stall, body sticky and collapsing onto yours. Nor do you speak when he pulls away with a playful nip to your lower lip - a promise. Searching through your clothes for a washcloth he can wipe yourselves clean with.

It’s only when he settles back under the covers beside you, looking at you with such dark, hazy eyes - whirling with too many emotions to name - that the silence is broken.

“Crybaby.”

“Cho.”

“Corny.”

“You started it.”

Chuckling, Choso pulls your body close to his. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two because shit now that he’s got you, he doesn’t think he ever wants to let you go.

“Y’know…” he starts, “I think we should- I mean- if you want…” nervous now more than he was even after all that just transpired. Cheeks flaring as he meets your amused gaze, just daring him to go on - because you saw through him. You always did. “I lov-”

“Am I late for the mov- WHAT THE FUCK I ALWAYS KNEW BRATS WEREN’T JUST FRIENDS-”

---

Itadori Family Groupchat + Two More

Dad: Hey, all. I can’t seem to get a hold of Choso to confirm tomorrow’s dinner plans. Can anyone else let me know if he’s ok? XX

-Jin.

Yuji <3: He’s probs at rhat “best friend movie night” still

Dad: Hello, Yuji. What is a “probs”? XX

-Jin.

Kugisaki: He’s suspiciously quiet, though… Y’all think that “best friend movie night” is codeword for something else?

Yuji <3: Better not be cuz Sukuna stole my sparw key sayin something ab crashing it idk

Kugisaki: *spare

And you just LET him?

Yuji <3: HE THREATENED TO BURN MY MEGAN THEE STALLION POSTER

…

AND DID IT ANYWAY

Kugisaki: L

Fushiguro: L

Gramps: L

Sukuna (do not answer): DID Y’ALL KNOW THOSE TWO WERE FUCKIN????

*Fushiguro has left the chat*

Dad: :0

-Jin.

A/N. Spiritually, this is a crackfic idk.

#choso x reader #choso smut #choso x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #choso #tonywrites #choso kamo

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saintrosalyn · 5 months ago

Text

JAILBIRD

Ghost becomes pen pals with an inmate before deciding that he wants to adopt his little jailbird.

Word count: 4.1k

Tw: inmate reader, reader is kept as vauge as possible but is implied to be younger than Ghost, violence, stalking, ghost is a perv, p in v, oral (f! Receiving), creampie, spanking (once), orgasm denial if you squint, unprotected sex, NOT edited we die like men.

Edited to Add: Part Two is posted :)

Notes: Baby’s first fanfic, please be gentle. Let me know if I missed any trigger warnings or if you want to see more! I have an idea for a second part but I don’t know if anyone wants it, right now it’s tucked away safely in my drafts. Enjoy! :)

P.S. I’m thinking about making an ao3 account and publishing an edited version of this on there. I’ll link it if I do! I’ve already spent too much time procrastinating finals but christmas break is around the corner so who knows.

The letter came with the top serrated, already opened, as all your letters came. You mostly ignored them. There were a couple of programs that allowed people to become pen pals with prisoners but you’d been there long enough to know what they often contained.

Many of the women milked poor losers on the outside. Money given and sent. Promises of butterfly kisses and blowjobs whispered over the phone. Exchanges. Some were even able to sweet talk their honeys into giving bribes. Money passed into hands of guards, currency that was then exchanged for cigarettes, which were much more valuable on the inside than the bills used on the outside.

You don’t know why you read this letter. It certainly wasn’t the penmanship, a scrawled handwriting that lay between cursive and print. Maybe it was the blue pen, you’d recognize a Bic anywhere, or maybe it was the fact that it smelled a bit like top-shelf liquor.

It was rather blunt. But not in an obscene way. Simple and straight to the point as if constrained by an unknown word count. It wasn’t memorable, but what else was there to do? Pace your cell back and forth and wait for zoochosis to settle further in your bones. Close your eyes and remember what freedom tasted like before it dissolved in your mouth.

The pen they gave you was cheap, the paper even cheaper, but you were used to making things work. Your reply was shorter than his, than Simon’s, but it got the job done. If he wanted to write back he would. If he didn’t, well, the new prison guard was starting to get rather handsy with you. The time will pass no matter what.

___

His replies came in strange patterns. Some weeks you’d get eight in a week, other times you wouldn’t hear from him for a few months. It took a year for the first phone call of which lasted less than a minute and consisted mostly of him grunting on the other end and a schlick sound you pretended not to notice. It was his fourth phone call that he finally said a few words in a voice so low it made the phone buzz against your ear, tickling like a lover's breath. Eventually, you had some semblance of conversations, even if they were interrupted by a recorded voice warning you of the time you had left.

He told you he was a soldier and at first, you planned on cutting the whole penpal idea off. Even before you got arrested you hated bootlickers more than anything. But Simon grew on you, and your friends all suggested you get in his good graces to see if he could pull some strings. You would’ve felt guilty if he was anything other than glorified government property. Both of you were.

The first thing he gave you was a book, The Yellow Wallpaper, which was thicker than you remembered from the time you read it in school. It was only when you cracked open the spine did you find a pack of cigarettes inside, the pages carved out so your real present could be placed inside. You couldn’t help the smile that split your lips as you pressed one between your lips, not noticing the tiny S carved into it.

You thank him for the gift by whispering his name into the phone. A mantra, a prayer, it didn’t matter as long as you kept your voice breathy. He promises to get you more and you learn not to refuse him. At one point, you notice that little robotic voice doesn’t time you anymore. The guard who couldn’t keep his hands to himself was replaced with a woman, hair pulled back into a military-style bun. And you got an extra cookie with your meals.

It took a year for him to visit. You knew it was coming eventually, men are only fine with their imagination for so long before they crave something tangible. Hell, even you were curious about the man who wanted to sink his teeth into you. It almost felt like getting ready for a date. Butterflies dropped like lead in your stomach as you tried to tidy your appearance as much as you could. You smelled, but there wasn’t much you could do about that. The whole damn prison smelled like a county fair bathroom. The lack of air conditioning in the heat of summer just added a sweet BO tinge.

The first thing you noticed about Simon was his size. You had never met a man as big as he was. The next was the thick scar tissue that marred his face. Though, even without the scars you would be hesitant to ever call him handsome.

Intimidating.

That was what came to mind staring at the thick cords of muscle that covered his arms and the broadness of his shoulders wasn’t just genetics. And he just stared at you. You glanced at the phone that connected to his on the other side of the glass and back at him but decided against it.

You offered him a small smile and an awkward wave. It unnerved you. The focus and attention pinned you in place. Normally you kinned yourself to a tiger you saw at a zoo when you were a child. One that paced back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. A habit you understood all too well. But sitting in front of your pen pal you realized you were rather off.

Simon was the tiger and you were the bird that caught his attention.

It took far too long for the guard to come and collect you. For once you were grateful to retreat back to your cell, so much so that in your retreat you failed to notice the nod your warden gave Simon.

___

After that Simon met with you in person as often as was allowed. He never said anything and neither did you. Eventually, the novelty of him wore off. Humans were rather adaptable creatures, and you could only be scared of the man for so long before your body adjusted to him. Despite your silence, Simon didn’t appear displeased with you. In fact, it was almost the opposite of it. More gifts arrived.

A pillow, high-end shampoo, a toothbrush (that you had a strange suspicion was used before being given to you), nail polish, and more cigarettes. Some of the women were jealous of the attention given to you, others tried to get with you to share your bounty. Somehow you dodged most of the conflict. But you can only run so long while trapped with so many women.

When you showed up to your meeting sporting a bruised cheek and split lip the air quickly changed. Before you thought Simon looked like a predator.

You were wrong.

Fear coursed through your veins and you recognized the look in his eyes. Every woman in the damn place knows what a hunger for violence looked like. Slowly he reached out an arm, the sleeve of his hoodie riding up slightly showing off tattoos, before grabbing the phone and pressing it to his ear. With a shaking hand, you did the same.

“Bird.” His voice was somehow deeper in real life than over the phone.

“You should see the other guy.”

His lips twitched.

There was something uncanny about his eyes. They weren’t brown, they were black. Obsidian. You realized that before, the first time you met him, he wasn’t trying to scare you. Though, you were pretty sure it wasn’t directed at you.

“Just a little spat is all Simon. Everything sorted itself out.”

All over a bottle of nail polish. Tempers run short in prison. You spend most of your days in a cell, and what little free time you get surrounded by the same insufferable bitches, it’s a mystery there isn’t more violence. For the most part, things were settled with words. The more physical an inmate gets the more time spent in your cell. There were some weeks where you spent twenty-three hours a day in that little room.

Simon let out a sigh as if dealing with you was the most insufferable part of his day.

“Did ye’ get medical attention a’ least?”

You nodded your head.

He gave a grunt.

That seemed to be his preferred method of communication with you. Caveman grunts and growls, the occasional moan over the phone he couldn’t hold back. You figured it had something to do with his job. He was quite tight-lipped about it, but you gathered he has co-workers (his squad? Platoon? What was the proper lingo?). Despite this, you were under the impression he spent the majority of his time alone. He always seemed more primal after those month-long stints of silence.

You always wondered how you would feel if he never contacted you again. Went out and didn’t come back. Would you assume he was dead? That he moved on to prettier things that aren’t locked away? Would it make a difference to you?

No. It wouldn’t.

Even now you got letters upon letters from other men. Though none were as giving as Simon was.

It was back to silence and staring contests that you were used to. The both of you slipping into a familiarity. He never put the phone back. Even when your warden came and escorted you back. You didn’t glance back at him.

Tucked away in your cell you didn’t get to watch Simon slowly rise out of his seat, chair creaking from the shifting of his weight. You didn’t see Simon lurk in the back as the inmates met with their loved ones on the out. Didn’t see him take notice of a particular girls with nails painted the same shade as his gift to you. The same shade as the tip of his cock.

___

The girl was transferred. For a singular moment, you thought Simon had something to do with it. Then laughed at the idea. Simon may be in the military, but you highly doubted he had anything to do with the bitch who got transferred. At least you got your nail polish back. It was a strange shade, and the idea of a man as big as Simon standing in an isle trying to pick out a shade made you chuckle, it was the thought that counted.

Time marched on. Penpals came and went but Simon stayed the consistent part in your life.

Eventually, the possibility of parole was on the horizon.

Freedom.

So close you could practically taste it.

Unfortunately, that meant a laundry list of to-do items. Court hearings, lawyers bankrolled by Simon, arranging for transportation and housing. Simon handled most of it. By now, the lingering guilt of using your soldier fiance had long left you. He seemed like the kind of man who needed to learn lessons the hard way, and entering a relationship with a felon was a lesson most didn’t need to learn. Still, he had been putting in quite a hard amount of work. He deserved a treat.

And after years of forced celibacy, you needed it bad.

The two of you would enjoy each other for a week or two. Simon would realize he made a mistake moving you in. He would kick you out. You’d pawn the ring he’d give you and use the money as a cushion as you landed, getting back on your feet. The two of you would go your separate ways and never see each other again.

Being in prison taught you a lot of things. Despite everything, patience wasn’t one of those lessons. The day you were gaining your freedom passed was the slowest part of your life. The checking, double checking, retrieving your stuff, checking again, until finally,

Finally,

You were outside. You were outside in something other than a uniform that stunk of sweat, there were no handcuffs. Anxiety crept everywhere. You wanted to get as far away from the prison as you could, if you breathed wrong a warden would drag you back. A pair of arms snatched you.

You looked up and couldn’t help but laugh, pressing your lips against his scarred ones.

“Fucking Christ your tall.”

He chuckled against your lips before taking them again, hands digging near painfully into your ass. The two of you somehow managed to walk back to his car peeling off one another before Simon peeled away, hand clutching the fat of your thighs as he drove.

“Never pictured you as a reckless driver.” You giggled.

The adrenaline and giddiness of being free hadn’t worn off yet. If anything it seemed to slowly be morphing into a different beast entirely. You pressed your lips against his bicep causing him to groan. You glanced up at him, watching as his jaw clenched weaving in and out of traffic in a way that was certainly not legal. You would’ve been worried about being pulled over if he wasn’t driving a military vehicle. They answered to a different police, or so he told you.

Eventually, he pulled into the yard of a house with an honest-to-God white picket fence. You smiled as you got out, curiosity creeping in about what his house was like. Simon opened the door for you, which would probably should’ve made you swoon at his gentleman-like behavior, but truthfully it was how he hauled you out of the card and dragged you inside that got your heart racing.

Impatient.

The door barely closed before his body was pressed against yours and his lips were pressed against your jugular. One of his rough hands slipped up your shirt, grunting when he found a clear path to your tits instead of meeting the edge of a bra. The other dipped into the waistband of your pants, running over your clothed cunt, no doubt feeling the wet spot against your underwear. Your hands slid over his arms, squeezing at the muscle, before slowly sliding them up and up, going to the back of his neck, a hand threading through his short hair the other cupping his face to kiss yours.

A large thumb found your clit, only the thin cotton stopped him from rubbing directly against it. He pressed down hard on it, causing your breath to catch in your throat, his thumb moving down your slit. The seam of your mouth parted in a moan and he used that to stick his tongue down your throat.

The kiss was obscenely wet, beastly as his spit passed from his mouth into yours. Before prison, you would’ve pulled away with a grimace. Too much tongue, too much teeth, too much. But your whole body was on fire, years of pent-up orgasms made you desperate for it all. For someone to press against you, to be inside you.

Simon was oh-so-convenient.

You tried to pull away, lungs burning enough to convince you that air was in fact a need, but the door stopped you. Pressed between it and Simon you had no escape. You whimpered against his mouth, again and again until he finally got the hint and pulled away, a string of spit connecting your mouths as if it too was reluctant to pull away from you.

“Bedroom?” You panted, though if he took you here against the door you would die happy.

Simon threw you over his shoulder and took his stairs two at a time before tossing you on his bed making you laugh. The caveman and his prize. Simon took the moment of being away from you to pull at the collar of his shirt. You watched in appreciation as it lifted higher and higher until it was discarded on his carpet.

His body was marred in scar tissue, muscle, and a layer of fat that made for a solid fine specimen of the male species. His pants were discarded next, and either he pulled his underwear down with them or he just wasn’t wearing any to begin with. You didn’t have much time to ponder that thought distracted by his hard cock.

Jesus Christ.

Big was an understatement, monster was the word that popped into your mind. It crossed the territory between delicious into scary. Large and thicker than you thought possible. You swallowed and for a second hoped he would forget about the blowjob you promised him after he gave you a pillow.

“Yer’ wearin’ too many clothes Birdie.”

Quickly, though not as quickly as Simon was, you wiggled out of your pants, shrugged off your shirt throwing it in the same pile as his clothes. He stepped closer to you, one large hand grabbing your ankle before retching you towards him.

He leaned down, mouthing at your bare tits, slobbering over them. The soft press of his tongue flicked over your nipple before he moved to the other and grazed his teeth over it. His hands were everywhere. He was everywhere. Impossibly big and pressed against you everywhere. Until all your senses were filled with him. As if Simon was the only thing that mattered in the world.

The artificial sun in your glass cage.

His mouth moved lower, nipping at your skin before he moved between your legs. He settled his body in between them, the calloused palm of his hands pressing your legs further and further apart until the stretch burned in the muscles where your legs met your pelvis. Quickly the pain faded into the background as he pressed a kiss against your bare clit, before taking it in his mouth and sucking. You felt the rough pad of his fingertips press against your hole rubbing against it but never quite dipping inside. Again and again, he moved it against you but never in you.

It was maddening.

You tilted your pelvis against his mouth, trying to coax his fingers into your welcoming body. He growled against your clit, removing his mouth causing you to whine. A sharp sting met your ass cheek and you yelped.

He spanked you.

“Behave.”

You never took the man to be hungry for anything other than missionary, but it seemed he had learned a few tricks over the years. He did have a few on you, you were sure of it. Your thoughts leaked out of your ears as he moved back up, slotting his hips in between your legs. Liquid lust ran through your veins at the sight of him rubbing his dick against your mound, a mess of your slick and his pre dragging along your pussy and up to your belly button. Your poor hole clenching around nothing at the image of how deep he was about to be in you.

You took a deep breath, mesmerized as he pressed the tip against your entrance, catching it before pressing himself inside. He went slowly, and you couldn’t help the moan that left you as he finally began to sink home. Throwing your head back you closed your eyes as he stretched your body out.

You weren’t a virgin before you were locked away, but years of celibacy made you feel born again. Hell, with the size Simon was even if you had fucked him before he would’ve made you feel virginal with the way he was splitting you open.

When you opened them again you caught his gaze, he stared at you watching your expression pinch as he gave small thrusts, working the last of him inside you. When his balls pressed against your ass you let out a shaky breath. You had passed your limit two inches ago but somehow Simon had managed to coax your sweet pussy to take the last of him inside. The pain of him had taken you away from the edge of an orgasm he was working you towards, but when his hand found your clit again you knew you weren’t going to last long.

If his shaky breaths were anything to go by Simon wasn’t going to last long either.

He kissed you again, this time it was softer. Sweeter. Made your stomach turn in a moment of guilt. It was replaced when he drew out of you, slowly letting you feel inch after inch leave your body, before slamming back in.

He moved again against you. And again. Building up a punishing rhythm. You couldn’t help the small ah ah ah’s that left your lips as he rutted in you. Your hips pushed against his, working with him as you both chased your highs.

His hand never left your clit, as if glued to it working in tight fast circles. His other hand traveled along your body as if he couldn’t get enough of you. Squeezing at your tits so hard you thought it might bruise, running up your bare skin, constantly moving and feeling. As if he couldn’t believe that you were real. That you were out of your cage and underneath him panting his name in his ear instead of against the end of a phone.

Your own hands wandered. Moving over his arms, God’s gift to you, his chest. But mostly they moved down his back, feeling his muscles move and contract under your hands. Before you left you would convince him to put a mirror over his bed, so you could watch his shoulders shift and move as he thrust inside you.

It was too much. The feel of Simon, the stimulation on your clit, the thick cock pistoning like a machine inside you, pressure built and built inside you. Your nails dug into his back, dragging down as he pushed you off that ledge.

Simon’s thrusts stuttered as he felt your walls fluttering around him, suckling at his cock, coaxing him. He came with a groan soon after you, painting your walls with thick globs of his cum.

You panted as he rested against you, letting his cock soften inside you as you ran your nails over the nape of his neck and caressed his short hair. It was oddly soft, comforting to run your hands over.

Simon began to untangle himself from you, slowly as if reluctant to part from your embrace. He moved to what you now realize was the on-suite connected to his bedroom. You could feel his cum start to drip out of your cunt and down your asshole, shifting at the uncomfortable feeling. You couldn’t find the energy yet to move, not even sure if your legs could support you right now. Simon came back to you, wash-cloth in hand, and began wiping up the mess he made.

“We’ll have to get a Plan B tomorrow.” You murmured as he crawled back into bed next to you.

Simon didn’t say anything, but he had always been a quiet man. He maneuvered the both of you until you rested under the covers, your hand running along his bare chest. Tracing his happy trail before moving back up, not ready to go again.

The adrenaline from before had worn off, leaving you suddenly exhausted. Sated and free you dozed off against him.

When you woke up again it was darker outside. Not yet the full black of night but rather the soft blue that came after the sun had only just dipped out of sight. Simon wasn’t in bed next to you. You rolled over with a sigh, sitting up and smoothing your hair. Thirsty you threw the covers off your body and padded across out of his room entering into a small hallway. There was a door directly across his room and with a shrug, you went into it.

It wasn’t snooping if you lived here now too. Even if you were only going to stay for a little bit.

The handle turned easily but the room was darker than you expected, no windows to let in any natural light. Your hands patted at the wall until you found the edge of a light switch, with a click the room was bathed in a soft glow.

Your breath hitched.

The room was bare except for a small desk and chair, the walls were covered in photos. Photos of you. Old photos, from before your prison stint. Mugshots. But what made your skin crawl were photos of you in your cell. You sprawled out on your uncomfortable cot. You sitting cross-legged across from your cellmate. Images of you in the cafeteria. Images of you in the yard.

You took a step back, then another, and another.

You flicked the light back off and slowly closed the door. You took a shuddering breath and yelped when you felt a chest pressed against yours.

Simon’s hands dug into your hips, pulling you tight against him.

“You look like you’ve seen a Ghost, Birdie.”

Poor little bird, trading one cage for another.

___

Part Two

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon x reader #ghost x you #ghost #simon ghost riley #reader is delulu in this

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kingkaisen · 2 years ago

Text

“What? You’re married? And you’re a dad?”

Yuji finds out that 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 has a family. — same au as this ♡

Yuji Itadori wanted to know more about the world’s strongest sorcerer, who he was lucky enough to have as his teacher.

The two of them walked along the sidewalk peacefully after completing a bit of training.

As Yuji devoured his blue popsicle, his wide eyes stared at the side of his teacher’s face.

Despite the black blindfold covering his ocean blue eyes, Gojo could feel his student’s eyes on him for two minutes straight.

“I’m surprised you haven’t bumped into something yet,” Gojo spoke up, breaking the silence as he smiled slightly. “Why are you staring at me? Something on my face?”

“No, I just had a question I wanted to ask you — can I?” Yuji tilted his head a bit.

“Don’t be silly, of course you can. What is it?”

“There’s a ring on your finger.”

Gojo was silent for a moment, but his amused grin widened. Eventually, he said, “that’s not a question, Yuji.”

“I know, I know, I just . . .” Yuji hesitated. After all, discussing such a personal topic with someone as superior as Satoru Gojo could have been disrespectful. Even so, he took his chances anyway. “Are you married?”

“I am.”

“Really?” Yuji smiled excitedly. He tossed his discolored popsicle stick in a nearby trashcan, and continued his late afternoon stroll with Gojo.

“Yeah, I’ve been married for eight years. Our anniversary is coming up pretty soon, actually. Think I’ll plan some sort of trip.”

“Wow, that’s really cool! Who are you married to? Do I know ‘em? What are they like?”

Due to his unwavering grin, Gojo felt a burning sensation in his light pink, blushed cheeks. Thinking about you had always resulted in him smiling so much, his face would hurt.

“You don’t know her, but Megumi does. Her name is Y/N, and she isn’t a sorcerer anymore, just an ordinary person who enjoys ordinary things, and I love that more than anything. Our daughter is-”

“What?” Yuji suddenly halted his footsteps.

“Hm? Something wrong?” Gojo questioned as he stopped walking, turning around to face the shocked boy.

“You have a daughter? Like an actual kid?” Yuji paused. “How come you never mentioned any of this before? How old is she? I wanna meet your family! Why have I never met them?”

“She‘s four,” Gojo laughed softly, and started to resume his walk along with Yuji. “Guess I had no idea you assumed I had no family, but it’s fine, you can meet them anytime you want. Wanna see a couple of pictures?”

“Yeah!” Flashing a bright smile, Yuji eagerly waited for Gojo to unlock his phone and scroll through his photos.

After only a couple of seconds — as it didn’t take the older man any time at all to find a photo of the two most beloved people in his life — Gojo handed his phone to Yuji, showing him a recent picture of the three of you hanging out at the park.

“Oh man, is that your wife? She’s really, really pretty, and your kid looks like the perfect combination of you both! Well, I guess that makes sense because you’re her parents, but it’s like fifty-fifty! She has your eyes, but Mrs. Gojo’s hair . . .” Yuji zoomed in and out of the photo as he rambled on, even taking it upon himself to search Gojo’s photos for even more pictures. “No way, is that Mrs. Gojo and Fushiguro? Fushiguro looks so young!”

“Yeah, he was around seven years old at the time. Me and Y/N were just dating then, but I knew I wanted to marry her. Best decision of my life.”

“When can I meet them?” Yuji asked, his brown eyes sparkling with hope.

“Why do you wanna meet them so badly?” Gojo reached out and grabbed his phone from Yuji, who had started to scroll a bit too far.

“Well, isn’t it obvious?” Smiling, Yuji paused. “You’re kinda like family to me now, I guess. So, I wanna meet the people you cherish the most, ‘cause I wanna cherish them too.”

Gojo didn’t say another word. Not to Yuji, at least. Instead, he hummed with satisfaction at his student’s kind words, and pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he found yours.

“Hi, baby,” Gojo greeted you over the phone, “Would you mind if I bring a student of mine over for dinner? He really wants to meet you . . . he’s not allergic to anything . . . Okay . . . That works for us . . . Tell my muffin that I’ll be home soon . . . I love you more, bye sweetheart.”

“Okay, we-”

“Great! Which way is your house? Which way? Is it this way?” Yuji excitedly started to run off in no particular direction, and Gojo couldn’t help but laugh.

While Yuji said he simply wanted to cherish Gojo’s family, Gojo knew that it was a bit deeper than that. After all, as far as Yuji was concerned, he had no one. He craved the domestic nature of a loving family. He was all alone.

Once they made it to Gojo’s home, Yuji excitedly greeted you with a hug as if he had known you his entire life.

He adored your food, laughing and chatting at the dinner table.

He adored your home, carefully admiring your decorations and asking plenty of questions.

He was also kind enough to help out with the dishes, and play with dolls with your daughter afterwards, using silly voices as he truly got into the role.

And, later on, when he saw Gojo grab your grinning face and shower it with kisses, and his little girl happily run up to him as he picked her up, tickling her as she giggled, Yuji silently hoped that one day, he too would have a family just as loving.

But, he didn’t have to observe the happy family from a distance much longer, as, suddenly, you and Gojo waved the boy over, and wrapped your arms around him in a silly, loving, group hug.

And he felt loved.

— PART III —

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traumaone · 27 days ago

Text

Lead The Way

pairing: Michael Robinavitch x Senior Resident!Reader

wordcount: 3.3k

warnings: mentions of cheating, age gap (late 20s and late 40s), brief mention of human trafficking (suspected in a patient)

synopsis: after over a year of pining over Robby, reader gets into a relationship to try and get over him, and gets cheated on. Robby (after putting up with a snippy reader) comes to the rescue

masterlist

!! not proofread so apologies for any mistakes !!

5:34 am

An hour on the treadmill this morning and the loudest, grittiest metal playlist you could find had done nothing to burn away the pure vitriol coursing through your veins.

Eight months of your life now wasted with one of the stupidest men on earth just so you could find him screwing a med student in your apartment. It hadn’t even been the act of catching them that had hurt the most, no, it was the fact that you hadn’t had a chance to break-up with the asshole before he’d screwed you over.

Embarrassment and rage were working double time to keep the fire burning in your chest even as you stepped through the doors of the ED. Your home, your sanctuary, now tainted by your thoughts about the fact that you’d been cheated on by a plastic surgeon.

Dana knew something had happened the moment she’d spotted you walking through the waiting room, back a day early from holiday and almost an hour before your shift, had you even been working, would’ve started.

“You look like you’re about to bring the wrath of God down on this place, kid.” Dana teased, but there glint of concern in her eyes.

“I don’t even have the words right now.” You leaned against the front of her desk, gripping the counter so hard you were sure it would leave marks.

“Let's start with why you’re back a day early from the break you desperately needed.”

That simple sentence sent another wave of wrath through your body.

“I’m well aware I needed the break, and it was fantastic until I came home last night to find my boyfriend screwing one of his med students in my bed.” You spit out the last part in a harsh whisper, careful to not let the elderly patient being wheeled by hear you.

“You’re fucking kidding me.” Dana’s mouth was agape.

“I save lives for a living, Dana. I’ve lost count of the number of patients I've treated.” You ranted, running your hand down your face in exasperation. “I have manually pumped a human heart with my own hand, and he pumps implants into trophy wives… and he cheated on me.”

“Woah, woah, you got cheated on?” Ellis had somehow, despite having a usually recognisable gait, snuck up on you, her brows furrowed in concern and anger.

You let your head fall against your folded arms, letting out a groan as you heard Dana chuckle. Ellis’ hand rested on the middle of your back, comforting and familiar.

“Is this that asshole you met at the conference Gloria sent you to?”

You let out another groan at the memory. Gloria had insisted someone from the ED attend a conference on the modernization of emergency medicine (read: how to prioritize money over patient care). Robby, Gloria’s favourite man to torment, had been the obvious choice. He was an attending, pretty much the face of the ED at this point. And you, an ex-nightshift senior resident, not enough of a people person to be sent to a conference meant for networking, were completely powerless against the look in his unbelievably sad brown eyes when he’d complained to you about it over coffee, and offered to take his place.

It had been miserable, a weekend filled with board members who had never set foot in an ED telling you, an actual doctor, how you should be doing your job. Coping came in the form of multiple glasses of whiskey in the hotel bar, and that was when you met Preston. Overly charming, a little slimy, even, but he was there, sitting in front of you, and the man you wanted was not.

He’d wooed you, paid for your drinks, commiserated with you over how stupid this conference had been, asked to take you out to dinner when you both got back to Pittsburgh, and you’d agreed. An obvious mistake, but hindsight is always 20/20.

“The very same.” You nodded, peeking out from beneath your arms.

Ellis scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. “Who was that guy anyway? You never talked about him.”

A fact you were very grateful for at this moment.

“He was a plastic surgeon at Presby.” You explained, wincing as the words left your mouth. “I caught him with one of his med students last night.”

“Of course you did, he was a plastic surgeon.”

You shot Ellis a glare.

“Okay, sorry.” She relented, raising her hands in surrender. “Not the time.”

“Not the time for what?” Abbott, the newest member to your pity party, questioned, regarding the three of you with a suspicious glance.

“Not the time to keep digging into my personal life.” You recovered quickly, halting any attempts from Dana or Ellis to spill your problems. “Got a case for me?”

Abbott frowned, but pointed at the board above you. “Got a girl in central fourteen who needs pain management for endometriosis.”

“I’ll head there now.”

You pushed away from the central counter with a soft smile from Dana. Abbott tracked you across the room with his gaze, not unusual, but you knew he wasn’t going to let what he’d seen at the front desk go easily.

As predicted, once you’d set your bag down at your desk Abbott had appeared at your side, his head slightly tilted as he tried to catch your eyes.

“You okay?”

Abbott was your oldest, if not your closest, friend since you’d started at the ED. you’d done your first three years of residency with him before switching to the day shift. According to Robby, he still called you his best resident. It’s not exactly a false statement. During the massacre that had been pitfest, the two of you had fallen back into your old rhythm, moving like a well oiled machine even after a year apart.

“I’m fine. Just had a rough start to the day.” You forced a smile that in no way convinced Abbot.

“You wanna go get some air before you start?” He offered, a knowing look on his face.

Abbott had introduced you to his ‘special spot’ after you’d lost your first patient. You never crossed the railing, not like he did, but you had found there to be something humanising about watching the sun set over the city.

“I’m good, I promise.” You assured, giving his shoulder a quick squeeze. “Just need to get in the groove.”

“If you change your mind you know where I’ll be. Sunrise is looking real nice this morning.” Abbott raised his brows at you, nodding towards the door to try and lure you away.

“Unlike you, I’m not a slacker.” You laughed, pushing at his shoulder. “Now leave me alone. I’m busy.”

“You don’t even have a patient yet.”

“Busy!”

7:22 am

Your first hour had passed by in a blur. You made your way through a patient needing pain management, road rash after a triathlon, botched boob job (not done by your ex, unfortunately), and an incredibly cute baby with an overcautious new mom before Robby had walked through the door.

He’d shown up in his usual uniform; dark cargos, scrub top with a clean white tee underneath, and his favourite hoodie with the sleeves pushed to his elbows. A simple outfit, yet somehow the most alluring thing you’d ever seen a man wear.

He’d taken a quick glance to the board, said a good morning to Dana, and taken the long way to the stairwell, sparing a quick glance into the room of your only current patient on his way. He and Abbot had created a small morning routine, meeting each other on the roof where they could debrief in private before descending to the chaos of the ED.

You envied that kind of relationship. You and Ellis had been close when you were still on night shift. The only two female residents on shift, commiserating over your dead social lives and keeping a tally of all the drunken patients who’d hit on you. She’d made work fun for you.

Collins, Landgon, and Samira weren’t bad company, they were honestly great, but shifting your entire work crew after three years had thrown you for a loop. They were all welcoming, but three years of working together had naturally formed bonds that unintentionally kept you on the outskirts, not as much anymore, but things had been lonely at the start.

Robby, however, had taken you in immediately. You’d spent years hearing stories about him from Abbott, reading the notes he left in your charts, hearing patients talk about how handsome the doctor from the shift before had been. He’d been intimidating at first, but it had only taken you your first shift to realise the two of you got on like a house on fire. Even Gloria had made a comment on it.

“Um, excuse me?” Whitaker’s voice brought you out of your reverie.

“Whitaker, good to see you.” You greeted, tapping into your computer to edit a chart. “How’re you doing?”

“Not too bad, a little tired.” He answered, shrugging his shoulders. “How are you?”

“I’m not doing too bad. Do you need me?”

Whitaker’s cheeks flushed at your phrasing. “Oh, um yes. A patient just came in with who she says is her aunt, but their dynamic’s a little… off.”

“Aunt’s answering questions for her? Patient checks in with the aunt before answering anything on her own? Both insist on not being separated?”

“Yeah, exactly that.”

You nodded. “And just to double check, the patient is above eighteen?”

“Yes, she’s twenty-six.”

That made you turn your head. “Okay, could just be a strange dynamic, but let's flag Kiara and I’ll come check it out.”

Whitaker led you to the patient, taking you straight past the stairwell Robby and Abbott had just emerged from.

Robby caught you by your shoulder, guiding you back so he could see your face. “You got a minute?”

You shook your head, pulling away from his touch. “Whitaker needs me for a possible case of trafficking. I’ll come find you after?”

His brows furrowed, his eyes searching your face for something you couldn’t figure out, but he nodded.

“Sure.”

8:07 am

“Hey, you still need me?”

Robby sat reclined at your desk, his glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose as he read over a chart.

“How’d things turn out with Whitaker’s patient?” He asked, peering at you over the rims of his glasses.

God, you loved it when he did that, but your moment of enjoyment cut itself short for professionalism.

“It was a good catch on his part. We put the girl in a private room under the guise of a pelvic exam and Kiara is with her now.”

“Nicely done. Keep me updated when you learn any new information.”

“Yes, sir.” You nodded, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. “Did you need me for anything else, or…”

“Abbott mentioned that you seemed a little bit off this morning. Came in a day early, at five in the morning no less.”

“Rat.” You muttered under your breath. You should’ve known that Jack would say something. “I’m fine, just caught a case of cabin fever. ‘M not used to having so much time off, just needed to get into the groove of things again.”

Robby nodded, but you could tell immediately that he hadn’t fallen for the lie.

“Okay, just remember I’m around if you need me.”

“Of course.”

11:48 am

Robby should’ve been focusing on his patients, focusing on the med students he had been tasked with teaching, but each time you crossed his path he couldn’t help but take a moment to admire you.

He could still remember the first shift he’d ever worked with you.

You were Abbot’s best resident, the nurse's favourite doctor (donuts and coffee every Sunday had secured you that position.), and despite being an R3, the two of you had never crossed paths.

Sure, he’d seen glimpses of you from across the ER, read the sticky notes you left scattered around your desk, had a million and one patients ask for the ‘charismatic, young doctor’ from the night before.

After almost three years of unsatiated curiosity, Robby had made peace with the fact that you’d become nothing more than an urban legend in his life. That was until a year ago when Abbott had needed him to cover a night shift, something to do with the wedding of an old friend he’d served with.

You’d greeted him with a smile and a fresh cup of coffee, shook his hand, and told him Abbot talked about him so much you felt like you already knew him. Robby had repeated the sentiment and tried to match your smile, but he was slightly too aware of just how soft your hand felt against his.

It had taken him less than an hour to realise why Abbot liked you so much. You were incredible at your job, even better with the patients, and the moment an urgent trauma had crossed the doors of the ambulance bay, you transformed. Warmth had quickly been traded for brutal efficiency. Your every move was clean, smooth, practiced to perfection.

Robby had been hooked on you by the end of the shift.

He hadn’t made a move on you. Even after only an hour he’d known you were miles out of his league, not to mention that the gap in age hadn’t been anything to blink at. He’d been sure you’d have no interest.

He’d clearly been wrong.

The shift had ended without incident, only a few immediate cases had come through the ambulance bay, but other than that it had been the victims of drunken brawls, sick kids, and elderly people falling in the dark.

You’d stopped him outside, laid a hand on his arm, offered him the sweetest smile he’d ever seen and told him how much you’d loved having him on this shift, and made him promise to say hello when your shifts crossed paths. It hadn’t been a declaration of love, but it had opened a new door.

He’d spent the next few weeks clocking in just a few minutes earlier, catching you just as you crossed the threshold back into the outside world. Robby would flirt (in his own way), and you’d flirt back. It had been a good start to his mornings, made him feel a bit younger, put a new pep in his step.

After a particularly long day, he’d found himself up on the roof with Abbott, staring out at the city looking for a reason to keep going, and Jack, as if he’d read his mind, had dropped the bomb that you were switching to the day shift. He hadn’t specified why, had just accused Robby of stealing his best resident. That simple sentence had kept him fueled for the next week.

The true nail in his coffin had been almost a year ago. You’d fallen on the sword for him, taken his spot at yet another ridiculous conference Gloria had insisted someone from the ED attend. That had been the moment he knew he was falling in love with you. And he fell fast.

He’d spent the entire week you were gone thinking about you, planning the best way to ask you out for dinner without forcing you into a corner if he’d read the signals wrong. And then you came back, exasperated by the amount of ridiculousness you’d put up with over the last week, as happy to see him as he’d hoped, but with a dinner date for a week ahead locked in your calendar.

You were incredible, he couldn’t blame another man for noticing, he’d just wished he’d noticed sooner.

Robby had spent the next eight months watching parts of you slowly fade away. Your smile lost its usual sparkle, your hair didn’t shine under the fluorescent lights the same way it used to. He had asked you about it, pressed you for details on more than one occasion to no avail. You always seemed to be carrying a weight on your shoulders, until this morning.

Even without Abbott’s words bouncing in his head, he could tell something in you had changed. Your eyes looked tired, shadowed by bags under your eyes, but that weight he’d noticed had finally seemed to leave your shoulders. Even with your exhaustion (and snappy attitude), you seemed lighter, happier than he’d seen you in months.

He knew he’d get the information out of you eventually, but for the time being he was just glad to see your true smile again.

7:21 pm

One death, four close calls, and one too many idiot patients later, You found yourself on the cool bench across from the hospital, beer in hand as you laughed with your coworkers. Robby sat next to you, as usual, a serene look on his face as he watched Perlah and Princess argue semantics about an old patient.

As the calm night washed over you, the guilt of snapping at Robby finally settled in your stomach. It hadn’t been fair of you, it wasn’t his fault your ex had turned out to be a piece of shit. A cruel part of you had still blamed him though, thinking that if he’d acted on the feelings you hoped he had for you, you wouldn’t have had to put up with subpar treatment for eight months.

One by one your coworkers headed home, wishing you a good rest of your night and promising to see you again in the morning. Before you knew it, only you and Robby were left in the comfortable silence.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you today.” You spoke softly, picking at the tab of your beer can. “I took out my anger on you and it wasn’t fair.”

“Thank you.” Robby nodded. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “Do you remember that guy I’ve been seeing?”

Robby nodded again, a small frown furrowing between his brows.

“I found him in bed with one of his med students last night.”

Robby let out a heavy sigh, his head shaking slightly as he looked down at his shoes. “That is…”

“Yeah.” You almost laughed. He didn’t even need to speak for you to know what he would’ve said.

A moment passed before he spoke again. “You don’t deserve to be treated that way, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” You let the laugh escape you this time. “He was an absolute asshole.”

Robby laughed with you. “I didn’t know much about the guy, but what I did know, I didn’t like.”

That shot a strange feeling up your spine.

“Wanna know the worst bit?” You asked, pushing down the feeling.

“Of course.”

“I was more upset about the fact that I didn’t get to break up with him first than I actually was about the cheating.”

He laughed, a true deep laugh, the kind you heard rarely but loved.

“You shouldn’t have to put up with that shit.” Robby lectured, resting a hand on your knee where it almost brushed his. “As cliche as it sounds, it’s worth waiting for someone who you know will treat you right.”

“Someone like you?” You questioned, suddenly emboldened by the alcohol coursing through your veins.

Robby paused, his eyes flitting from your eyes to your lips for a split second. “I’m not sure I’m the man you want.”

“I know you are, Robby.”

His calloused hand moved to rest against your face, his thumb tracing over the ridge of your cheek. In the subtle glow of the park lights you could perfectly see his features, those gentle brown eyes you could never seem to forget. You leaned in, brushing your nose against his in a quiet invitation.

The feeling of his lips against yours had been more perfect than you’d imagined. They were slightly chapped, warm, and just right. His beard scratched against your cheeks in a way that made your thighs ache.

He pulled away after one kiss, ever the gentlemen, and rested his forehead against yours.

“Let me take you back to my place.” He begged, brushing a quick kiss against your cheek. “I’ll wash your clothes, walk you back to work in the morning.”

You struggled to bite back the smile on your lips. “Lead the way.”

#michael robinavitch #michael robinavitch x reader #dr robby x reader #the pitt x reader #dr robby #dr robinavitch

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streetlamp-amber · 10 months ago

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never ending night

bruce wayne x femwife!reader

word count: 1.7k | divider by @saradika | requests are open!

CW: pregnancy, pure fluff NOTES: hello hi i’m ailís and i’ve been meaning to start a blog where i can post some one shots that i’ve been thinking of as a way to motivate myself to finally write down my ideas so this is it. i’ll be double posting my stuff on ao3 (which you can find in my bio) and will eventually make a masterlist as well as a navigation post with a list of fandoms/characters i write for. also, english isn’t my first language.

It was close to three in the morning when Bruce finally joined you in bed after a long night of patrolling and fighting bottom of the barrel criminals all night. He showered in the bathroom on the first floor of the manor to avoid making too much noise and waking you up, but when he finally walked in your shared bedroom, you were already awake, sitting up against the headboard.

“Darling, what are you doing still up?” Bruce asked you as he reached his side of the bed.

The room was dark par for the moonlight filtering through the gap between the curtains, meaning your husband had yet to notice the state you were in.

“Dick had a nightmare,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper due to how tired you were. “It took me two hours to get him to fall back asleep and when I finally came back here, this little one started kickboxing me and keeping me awake for another hour,” you continued rubbing your round belly in hopes of soothing your baby to finally catch some sleep.

“I’m sorry I wasn't here to help,” Bruce apologised, planting a kiss on your temple as he held you close to his body.

“It’s alright, Gotham needs you,” you dismissed, not at all angry.

“Still, you’re six months pregnant. You’re growing our child inside your body, you need all the rest you can get,” he softly argued. “I would've come home earlier but all the amateur criminals came out tonight.”

“Bruce, it’s fine,” you brought your hand up to his cheek and he leaned his head into your touch. “You’ve already been cutting your patrols shorter since we found out about the baby. As long as you keep coming back home to us, alive, then I’m not mad.”

Not knowing what to say – his gratefulness for having someone so accepting of his duty as Batman was almost overwhelming, even after all those years – Bruce kissed your palm while staring at you with the same look full of love that he has been sporting since the first time he met you six years ago.

“How’d I get so lucky to fall in love with the most understanding and selfless person I know?” He asked while grabbing your hand on his cheek, wrapping his fingers around yours and squeezing them gently.

“Now that’s a lie,” you rebutted, a loving smile on your lips, lowering your joined hands on the bed. “You’re more selfless than I am. You’re the most selfless man in the world.”

“Let’s not start this never ending argument again,” Bruce chuckled, now his turn to hold your face as he brought you in for a kiss.

You happily sighed against his lips, the feeling of home that overtook you every time you tasted them was a nice welcome in this interminable night. But the kiss was cut short as you felt your baby kick again and you let your head fall back as you groaned.

“She’s still kicking?” Bruce asked you, he couldn't see the movements under your skin due to the darkness of the room and your hand on your belly.

“We don't know it's a she,” you reminded him instead of answering. You had both decided to wait until the birth to know the gender.

“And I’m telling you, I know it's a girl,” your husband repeated for what could be the hundredth time.

You also secretly hoped it was a girl, but Dick really wanted a little brother. Bruce and you were still in the process of warming him up to the idea of a little sister and it was slowly starting to work.

“As long as she doesn't come in my room,” your eight year old son had said last week, with his arms crossed over his chest and a pout on his lips.

“I doubt she’ll be doing that for the first few years, chum,” Bruce reassured him, fighting off a slightly amused grin.

“And the baby will have its own room with its own toys,” you added.

“Will I still be able to play with the baby?” Dick asked after a moment, uncrossing his arms and a hopeful look filling up his blue eyes.

“Of course you will, bubs,” you said, your fingers threading through his black hair that fell over his forehead.

“But only with her toys at first, some of yours are not suited for a baby,” Bruce pointed out, ever the overprotective father.

Bruce had lowered himself down under the blanket so he could be laying head levelled with your belly, his hand now replacing yours over the bump.

“Hey trouble,” he whispered to your child and the baby kicked again, making him smile lovingly at the movement he felt under his hand. “You shouldn't be awake this late at night, you know.”

“You're one to talk,” you commented, tone almost reprimanding.

“She doesn't know that,” Bruce looked up at you as he defended himself before his gaze fell back on your belly. “Mommy is really tired,” he continued talking to your baby, his hand now rubbing soothingly over your round stomach, “and she needs her rest to do all the work so you can come out all healthy and beautiful. Well, you're definitely gonna be the most beautiful baby if you end up looking like your mother, but that's not the point.”

You smiled at the cheesy comment and your fingers found their place in Bruce’s hair, brushing through it and nails occasionally scratching his scalp.

“Your brother Dick can't wait for you to come around,” he carried on. “Said he will teach you all sorts of acrobatic tricks once you know how to walk. And he asked Alfred if he could help paint the nursery when we finally decide on a colour.”

“And I keep telling you we should do soft green,” you argued.

“I’m not changing my mind from primrose pink,” he told you with a sly grin.

“The room won’t be pink, even if it’s a girl. And that’s final,” you firmly said. Your husband will not be winning this one argument, no sir.

Bruce sighed, rolling his eyes before focusing back on your belly. “I hope you’re not as stubborn as your mother,” he whispered to the baby, as if he was having a private conversation with them and that you weren’t there. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s one of the many reasons why I fell in love with her, but I won’t be able to say no to you even when I have to, so it would save me a lot of reprimanding from Mommy if you’re not as tenacious as her.”

You smiled to yourself as you continued listening to your husband talk to your unborn child as you threaded your fingers through his hair, enjoying the softness it had after a shower. Bruce usually gelled his hair to appear more professional when he was working in the day, and then it would get all mixed up with his sweat under his cowl when he was working as Batman. When he would come back to you after the day was over, you would refuse to touch his hair until he had showered, the texture of the gel and sweat too gross on your fingers for you to ignore.

As Bruce continued talking to your baby, his voice started lulling the two of you to sleep. The baby hadn’t kicked in over almost ten minutes now, and the peace you had waited for so long to arrive made you aware of how heavy your eyelids were. You slowly lowered yourself down the bed, getting in a comfortable position with Bruce’s help where you could finally lay your head on your pillow and it didn’t take long for sleep to catch up on you.

At the sound of your soft, barely audible snores, Bruce turned his head away from your bump to find you asleep with your free hand raised next to your head on your pillow, the other one still tangled in his hair.

He planted a soft kiss on the exposed skin of your belly, eyes closed as he took a moment to absorb the fact that a baby that was half you and half him would be joining your world in a little more than three months. Bruce wasn't known to cry, the only time you ever saw him cry was as you walked down the aisle at your wedding, but tonight, a lonesome tear rolled down his cheek and fell on your stomach, where your child was growing, because Bruce never believed he would ever get to experience again the amount of love he hadn't felt since he was eight years old.

As he observed you, sleeping soundly with his child coming to life inside you, after you comforted Dick back to sleep, Bruce, for a moment, felt overwhelmed by all the love in his life. When he became Batman, he crossed out the idea of ever having a family (other than Alfred), of settling down with someone he loved and who loved him back.

But somehow, the universe put you on his path, as a miracle or a guardian angel or simply as an anchor to life outside of Batman, he didn't know. You walked into his home, into his life, to remind him that he, Bruce Wayne, was also deserving of love, of family, of happiness. Then Dick came along, rather unexpectedly but still no less welcomed, and Bruce started entertaining the idea of having children with you. He definitely wasn't opposed to it, but it wasn't something he wanted to jump right into, especially with Dick having just entered your lives. You were both young, he in his early thirties and you in your late twenties, you could allow yourselves a couple of years just the three of you (four with Alfred) before expanding the family.

So it was rather shocking when two months after you and Bruce had officially adopted Dick that you found out you were pregnant. It both took you by surprise but after talking through it together, you couldn't be happier. And the two of you haven't stopped being happy about this new little addition ever since.

Bruce rose up from his position next to your belly, your limp hand fell from his head as he did so, and he laid on the bed next to you. He delicately kissed your forehead, then your nose before falling back on his pillow and whispered “I love you” as he curled around your body, his hand resting on your belly as he fell asleep.

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emmyrosee · 1 year ago

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His phone rings once, and Kiyoomi smirks down at it.

You’re calling him, of course you are, why would you not be, and he sighs and excused himself before slipping out to the front of the building and answering the phone.

“This better be good.”

“Im crawling in your walls.”

He lets out a laugh and scrubs his face with his hand, “you miss me that much? I’ve only been gone for a few hours.” You whine on your end of the line, and he chews the tip of his thumb to stop himself from laughing.

“Kiyoomi,” you whine. “I didn’t give you enough kisses this morning. I’m feeling deprived.”

He cocks a brow, “babe, you gave me a thousand kisses before I left-“

“No, I gave you forty seven. I should’ve given you forty eight. Or a thousand.”

This, has him laughing. Laughing because never in a trillion years would he expect to let such ferality be allowed. What would 16 year old Kiyoomi think if he heard some person say “I’m in your walls because I didn’t kiss you enough”?

He wouldn’t believe him. He wouldn’t think someone would care enough about him to go through such lengths to be part of his life, a part of him, and he poked his tongue in his cheek and shakes his head.

“You can kiss me more when I get home.”

“I don’t want to wait that long.”

“I’ll kiss you back?”

This, has you stopping, and he raises his brows as he waits for a response. “You promise?”

“Of course I do,” he snorts. “When have I never not wanted to kiss you?”

“True.” You go quiet again, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, baby. I’ll be home soon.”

“…okay,” you finally sigh. “I’m gonna eat your drywall.”

He snorts again, “go for it.”

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aetherprism · 2 years ago

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the way im just waiting for today to end so i can go to bed and watch the fnaf movie tomorrow

#SPEAKING COLORS #fnaf #im so hyped bro #I’ve been waiting for this for EIGHT YEARS #AND IVE BEEN FOLLOWING THIS FRANCHISE FOR ALL NINE YEARS #it’s so insane to think about it #bc im *18* now; and i was in like 4th grade when the first game came out #im a HIGHSCHOOL GRADUATE now #also if anyone spoils this movie for me i will actually just commit a crime

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marvelwitchergilmore · 6 months ago

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Medical Emergency

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hadn’t even been told what had happened.

Then he saw you.

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

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

You looked…like you needed to be comforted.

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

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

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

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

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

You just nodded. “Thanks.”

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

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

“This way.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s okay. Go back to sleep.”

And you did.

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

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

Then you reached for him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How could you not tell me you were dating someone?

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

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

Get better soon, honey xoxo

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

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

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

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

And you did feel better.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, hey. You’re awake.”

You nodded. “Did you cook?”

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

“Get off me, I’m fine.”

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

“What day is it?”

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

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

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

“I made it.”

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

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

“So you did think about it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

But Jake had.

You took the top paper and looked it over.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He let your words settle over him.

“Who?”

“What?”

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

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

“I would have fought them on it but-”

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

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

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

“Jake-”

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

So you just nodded. “Okay.”

“Good. And eat up, too.”

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

“We do.”

“Where?”

“You’ll see.”

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

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

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

You laughed a little at that one.

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

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

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

“Where are we going?”

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

But then you forced yourself back to reality.

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

But he didn’t leave you.

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

And the first to stay.

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

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

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

“How? Isn’t all sand the same?”

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

It was a five minute walk to the bottom.

“Is it usually this empty?”

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

“Huh.”

“What?” Jake asked, looking at you.

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

“Well…I’m not.”

You looked at him.

“To most people.”

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

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

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

“Why are you doing this?”

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

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

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

“And you don’t believe me?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I know you.”

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

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

“Y/n.”

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

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

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

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

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

And what did he mean by again?

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

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

Worst of all, he caught you.

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

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

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

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

“But what about our stuff?”

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

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

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

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

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

So watching crabs walk along the rocks was fun.

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

“Come and look at this.”

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

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

“You okay?”

“Fine.”

“Can you stand?”

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

“What am I looking at?”

It was a starfish.

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

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

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

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

“You don’t have to thank me.”

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

“Are you saying…you…like me?”

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

“No, no. I mean, this is a miracle.”

“You’re tolerable.” You corrected him.

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

“No, I don’t.”

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

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

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

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

“I’m guessing they’re not here yet.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Love is blind, as they say.”

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

And then they watched as you walked home.

Together.

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

Verbally or otherwise.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, you can’t prove that was me.”

“Hey, the bottle was in your hand.”

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

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

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

He nodded. “Even so. Call me.”

“Goodnight, Jake.”

“Night, Sweetheart.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

It couldn’t be…could it?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You okay?”

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

“Yeah. Yeah. I will be.”

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

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

“Jake.”

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

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

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

“School bathroom. Teacher’s.”

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

You didn’t answer.

“Y/n.”

“I’m here.”

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

“Yes.”

“Does anyone else know you’re there?”

You explained what happened as best as you could.

“Just, please get here soon?”

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

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

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

He stepped inside before crouching down.

“I-I’m sorry I called. I just-”

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

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

“Okay. Do you think you can stand?”

You gave a small nod. “Maybe.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh shit.

“Oh, no. I-I’m not. And he’s not-”

“We’re- We’re not together.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll stay.”

“A-are you…sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Instead, his mind was going over the fact you had called him when you were at work. And the fact that he enjoyed it when you were with him. That he was the one you chose to lean on. And the fact that he wished he was down the hall with you at that moment, then lay alone in the dark in your guest bedroom.

Then he heard you.

From the dim, moonlit hallway, he saw you.

“Hey, everything-”

“Can I stay with you?”

Already half way up, Jake paused for a second. Then nodded. “‘Course. Come ‘ere.”

Walking over, Jake pulled the covers back and you climbed under them before feeling his arm wrap around you. And your arms came around him, one over his shoulder and round his neck, the other by his side.

Instinctively, he pulled one of your legs across him and held it there whilst his other arm remained securely around your back, holding you to him.

“Is this okay?”

He felt you nod and he nervously swallowed.

“Are you okay, Sweetheart?”

In a quiet voice, your breath against his neck, you answered. “Better now.”

Pressing a kiss to your head, you nuzzled into each other.

“Good.”

Not too long after that, you both fell asleep.

And when you both woke up, neither of you wanted to move.

If this had somehow happened six months ago, you probably would have thrown each other to the other side of the room. But it wasn’t six months ago. And you’d come to know Jake as…Jake. Who took care of his friends, and made sure everyone was okay and was kind and caring and…a lot of other things you didn’t want to think about at six o’clock in the morning.

And the way he was looking at you at that moment made you think about other things that you didn’t want to think about.

“What are you thinking about?” Jake asked after a few moments of watching you study him.

“That you need to stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you…like me.”

Jake smiled. “I do like you, Sweetheart.”

“Jake.”

Then, for a moment, everything felt…serious. His tired smile dropped a little from his lips as he looked at you.

“Do you trust me?”

You felt your heartbeat pick up in your chest and for a moment, you wondered if he could hear it.

“Yes.”

Tucking your hair behind your ear, you felt him cup your cheek. “Y/n…”

He seemed nervous.

“Can I kiss you?”

If you had let yourself think about it long enough, you never would have guessed Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, who went after whatever, and usually whoever he wanted, would ask if he could kiss. You’d always assumed that he was so confident in life and with women that he’d know. That he’d see the small signals. Or even the loud ones. And just…kiss a girl.

But no.

He asked.

And something in your gut jumped.

So you answered; “Yes.”

Nervously, he licked his lips before he leaned in. And kissing him felt…weird. Because it felt…normal. Unlike anything else you’d felt in your life.

You managed to pull him closer, until he was leaning above you. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.”

From there, the softer, searching kisses slowly faded away and turned into something more. More wanting, more needing. Feeling his hands move down your body before he gripped your hips, and pulled you closer to him and carefully slid them back up until the fabric of your t-shirt began to bunch together.

Feeling him press into your thigh, you let out a small noise that was only swallowed by his kiss. Swiftly, he pulled you across him, your legs straddling his lap before he sat up. Once more, he pushed the hair from your face and took you in, in the rising daylight.

No words were spoken out loud, but everything was said.

Leaning down, you kissed him again before letting your own hands move down his chest and towards the hem of his t-shirt. Except, just as he pulled you closer by your waist, his hips rocking into you, you both jolted at the sound of his alarm.

“Sorry.” Jake quickly turned and switched it off. You were both going to be late for work.

“If we don’t get ready now, we’re gonna be late.”

Looking at him, you didn’t know fully what to say. It had just been the hottest make out session of your life, with a guy six months ago people would have bet money on you killing. And you’d both been cock-blocked by his alarm.

“I’ll meet you here, after work?”

That made you smile. “Okay.”

Then he did, too. “Okay.” Before throwing his phone to the side and pulling you down to kiss him. But as you pulled away, he groaned, trying to pull you back to continue but you walked a good three feet away from the bed.

“Can’t be late, Hangman. You’ve got pilots to teach.”

With a coy smile, he was standing in front of you within seconds before lifting you onto the dresser behind you. This time, it was you trying to pull him back when he stopped kissing you. But he just stood back and let out a small chuckle.

“We’ve both got students to teach, Sweetheart. We stay here any longer, they’re both gonna miss us.”

One final kiss to your lips, he stood back and practically ran away before you could grab hold of him.

Twenty minutes later, he was showered and dressed for the day and had poured you a coffee to-go as well as packed you another smoothie and grabbed your lunch for you before you’d come downstairs, dressed and began loading the last of the exam papers into your bags.

He dropped you back off at work, however, when you realised he was waiting in the parking lot for you to enter, you left your bags by the pillar and walked back. With his window already being down, you leaned in and kissed him, feeling his hand cup the back of your head.

“See you tonight?”

“See you tonight.”

The day for either of you couldn’t have felt longer. And by the time Jake came walking through your back door, dropping his bag onto one of the pantry hooks, he couldn’t have been more relieved to see you.

And for a moment, he just watched you as you sat on the sofa with crossed legs, flipping through a textbook and making notes. Softly, he approached you from behind before wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

You smiled.

“Hey, Sweetheart.”

“You’re back.”

You felt him relax against you. “Finally.”

“There’s some food. I made you a plate in the oven.”

He pressed a kiss to your head before walking towards the kitchen. “I would have cooked.”

“I know, but I needed the distraction.”

Waltzing back inside holding onto the warm plate, he smirked as he popped a fork-full of veg into his mouth. You could already feel your cheeks heating and from the look on his face, he could see it clear as day.

“Distraction from what?”

“Nothing in particular.”

“Nothing, huh?”

At some point, he put down his plate and rounded back to the sofa, standing behind you before pressing soft kisses into the side of your neck.

“Jake.”

The way you said his name went straight to his dick.

As he moved your hair, you leaned to grant him more access. A satisfied smirk came to his lips as he watched your legs move to straighten out.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day, Sweetheart.”

Eventually, you felt Jake move away but he appeared again, lowering himself in front of you. Taking the textbooks and notes from you and placing them on the coffee table behind him, he leaned forward and pulled you in to kiss him.

“Have you been thinking about me?”

Feeling his hand move up your thigh and towards your shorts, you leaned in closer. “Have you, Sweetheart?”

“Yes,” your voice came out breathy.

“Is this okay?”

You nodded.

“I need words, darlin’.”

“Yes. Yes, it’s okay.”

As time passed, the small part of you that was still able to function started to ask questions. Like why you had hated him so much in the first place? And how you almost missed…him.

And by the time you woke up in the morning, Jake practically wrapped around you like a boa constrictor, you had come to a new conclusion.

You didn’t hate him anymore.

You hadn’t hated him for a long time.

All opinions you had of him, especially after a night of mindblowing sex, had been shot out of the water.

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was no longer the man you thought he was. The man you had come to know and lo-

The man you had come to know was a man that showed up. And stayed. He was someone that took care of the people he cared about. He was someone that would fix things in your home without you asking. He was someone that cooked meals, even if it was almost one o’clock in the morning and you were craving a grilled cheese. He was someone that, even after sex, took care of you in a way nobody had ever even thought about doing before. He was someone that you could trust and respect, and did so.

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was a man that had proved your theories wrong and he was a man that you realised you were falling for.

And in some ways, that scared you. And in some ways, it didn’t.

Because, for as much as he could be so sure of himself. So bold. So confident, it bordered on cocky. You were also sure of him. Sure that, if he was feeling the same things you felt, that he wouldn’t let you hurt yourself when you fell, but rather he’d catch you.

And it, surprisingly, didn’t take him very long.

By the time you woke up in the morning and headed downstairs, freshly dressed in a worn Top Gun hoodie and a pair of sleep shorts, you started making breakfast. However, as you stood at the stove, flipping the bacon, you felt a newly familiar pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind.

Dropping his chin to your shoulder, Jake pulled you close to his chest.

“Good morning.”

“Morning’.” He drawled. “Whatcha’ cookin’?”

“Bacon and eggs. There’s also toast in the toaster.”

With a smile, Jake pressed a kiss to your exposed collar which caused you to let out a small giggle before quickly turning the stove off.

“You’ve gotta be careful, Hangman. You’ll make me burn breakfast.”

He hummed a response. “I had a couple other meals in mind.”

“Oh really? Like what?”

With his hands on your hips and his lips on your neck where you suspected he’d just left another hickey, he slowly turned you around. “I can think of one.”

Finally facing him, he kissed you as you fumbled with the last temperature gauge and turned it off. Picking you up, he carried you away from the counter near the stove to the one complete opposite.

“You’re driving me insane dressed like this.” He mumbled against your kiss. “Wearing my shirt.”

“Your shirt?” You asked as his lips moved to your neck.

Looking at you for a moment, half drunk on your kiss, he nodded. “Didn’t you know, Sweetheart? This here is mine.” Pinching some of the fabric between his fingers he shook it as he told you so.

You laughed. “No it’s not.”

He nodded. “God's honest truth. Your brother stayed at mine one night after he’d gone out drinking. Lost his shirt, don’t ask me how. Stole one of my hoodies. Never got it back.”

“How do you know this is yours?”

With a smile, Jake showed you the small hole that you’d made a little bigger over the years from when you’d get nervous. “This right here. Loose thread got caught in a cabinet I was fixing in my room. Pulled at it too hard. And…”

Jake watched as your expression changed a little, hungry for more of his touches, as he pushed his hand slowly up the inside of your- his hoodie.

A slight smirk, he pulled at the side tag and showed you. And it baffled you how you’d never noticed before.

J.H.S

“See. But, I have to say, Sweetheart. It looks better on you than it ever did me.”

And as he was looking at you, he asked you something else. “Let me take you out on a date. A real one. You know, seeing you like this…I never want to see anyone else like this but you.”

“Jake…”

“I’m being serious. Sweetheart, I want you. And not just temporarily.” Then he looked away as he said the next part. “I’d get it…if you didn’t want that. God knows you and I don’t have the best history when it comes to even getting along but-”

“I want to date you.”

He looked up at you.

“I want to date you,” you repeated. “Believe me, half of the time I don’t get it myself. How we’ve gone from one extreme to the other, but I know…I know I want you around.”

“I want you around, too.”

“So, yes.”

Jake smiled. “Yes?”

You smiled back. “Yes. Take me out on a date, Jake Seresin.”

Leaning forwards, he kissed you. And before long, your hands started to feel for the hem of his shirt before pulling it over his head.

It was safe to say, when you and Jake walked into The Hard Deck in the evening after your official first date, hand in hand before he pressed a kiss to your lips, a lot of people were shocked.

And lost a lot of money.

But Penny won it all.

She knew the minute Jake saw you, and your brother scolded him, that something would happen. After all, Hangman was known for going after what he wanted. She just never expected to have to be the one to force you to be in the same room and for that room to be a hospital.

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