#nightingale x reader

[sinful-lanterns]

TWICE THE SPICE

synopsis: threesome pairs with the ptn women

featuring: zoya, bai yi, rahu, shalom, langley, nightingale, chelsea, eirene

rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)

warnings: sub! afab fem reader, thre.esomes, rough s.ex, double pen.etration, an.al, transfem characters (zoya, bai yi, rahu), exhibition, voy.eurism, fing.ering, pet play, pet names, cunnilingus, face sitting, marking, strap ons, mentions of a sugar mommy and sugar baby relationship, not proofread.

art credits: what does the fox say

ZOYA AND BAI YI

“Well damn, I didn’t know pretty girls could take a cock this well…”

Bai Yi laughed rather mockingly before thrusting her cock forward to meet with the rapid thrusts of Zoya pounding you from behind. Your body was practically molded and smothered between the two Syndican gangsters, as them being gangsters, made a bet to see who could get their cock in deepest within your body. Bai Yi won the coin toss, so she was currently stuffed four to five ish inches into your pussy, while Zoya got your tight ass. The Legion leader practically grunting with each shallow thrust, as you were squeezing around her length so damn tightly.

“F-Fuck…hah…did’ya really win the coin toss, Bai Yi? Cuz’ her ass is squeezing me so fucking good…gnngh…”

Gripping your hips with a force that felt restrained —mostly because it was two S-Class sinners that were currently fucking you— your legs were suddenly lifted off the floor thanks to the combined strength of Zoya and Bai Yi pulling you up to meet their lips. Sloppy tongues and slippery trails of saliva coating your lips and neck like you were a plate that needed to be polished, as Bai Yi slipped her tongue into your mouth, and Zoya sucked a hickey on your throat.

“Mmpf…something about you just doesn’t quite hit the same as Syndicate escorts…” Bai Yi mumbles, sliding her length back out, only to slam it back in again to watch you lurch. “Maybe it’s that sweet, adorable innocence you don’t see everyday in a wasteland such as Syndicate…or…”

“Oh, shut up.” Zoya groans, pulling your head back from behind and pushing her hips even deeper, “Just stop talking, I can’t hear her moans…”

“Tch, such a hard ass…” Bai Yi giggles, but not before pulling your thighs over to wrap around her waist. “Here, this should be a comfortable position for ya, hm? Pretty girls like you like to be comfortable while they get spoiled.” 

Another heavy thrust from behind pulls a rather squeamish cry from you, Zoya’s length hitting even further than before, despite how much resistance your body was giving her as she was plowing you from behind. Bai Yi notices this of course, teal eyes glimmering with that spark of possessiveness that sinners seemed to contain, as she suddenly squeezed your thighs tighter and began thrusting at a pace that felt inhumane. 

“Oh, does the leader of the Legion think she can out-fuck me? The fastest woman in all of Syndicate?” She lets out a scoff and smirks rather cruelly. “Not a chance, ya giant meathead.”

All of a sudden, you felt Bai Yi activate her sinner ability for a brief moment, and soon she was hammering her length into you and pulling cries out like it was second nature. 

“Hah…Hah…f-fuck…beat that you meathead.” Bai Yi teased, face flushed with ecstasy as the speed she was going at had also increased the pleasure for her. Zoya was not having it, as she scowled at the way you were falling limp onto Bai Yi, causing her to let out a possessive growl. 

“You’re going to wish you never did that…” with a hefty push, Zoya practically shoved her entire cock in the rest of the way, causing you to scream rather pleasurably from the way these two sinners were fucking you to the brim. You’ve never felt so full in your life, yet it seemed like Zoya and Bai Yi weren’t stopping anytime soon.

Well, perhaps you don’t want them to stop anytime soon, but that’s okay. Zoya and Bai Yi have the stamina to keep up for hours. And they made sure you knew that by keeping you in their grips till you were unable to stand.

RAHU AND SHALOM

“Oh Rahu, you’re making such a mess on the floor. That isn’t proper for our guest…”

Rahu groaned as she was currently kneeling on the floor of Shalom’s bedroom, precum dripping down her shaft, as Shalom chuckled and spread your pussy lips a bit wider, giving Rahu a tempting treat. Somehow the wicked woman and her lapdog had tricked you into letting them undress you, yet given the position you were in now, you weren’t really complaining as Shalom and Rahu were easily some of the hottest women you’d ever had the pleasure of being with. And that spoke volumes given how many pretty sinners there were at the Bureau.

Rahu groaned a bit and shamelessly swallowed a bit of drool that had piled up in her throat. Just the sight of Shalom sitting behind you, fully clothed while you were stripped naked, Shalom’s fingers toying with your dripping cunt while Rahu could only stare and watch, has the woman fighting against the urge to jack off, knowing full well that Shalom would punish her later. 

The poor bodyguard was left watching with hungry eyes as you whimpered such breathtaking sounds, Shalom’s beautiful fingers pinching at your clit, before slowly sliding into your cunt and making the most soaked of noises with your pussy.

“My sweet Rahu, do you hear that?” Shalom smiles and coos into your ear. “That’s the sound of a delightfully wet pussy, just begging for it to be stuffed full by someone…”

She grins rather mockingly at the way Rahu was barely able to keep it together, before leaning in to kiss your right ear and sink her fingers even deeper. “See how good my Rahu is? Literally salivating at the thought of splitting you open on her dick. Yet she’s so obedient that she’s waiting for my command, not even jerking off like a good puppy…”

When you let out a small cry of pleasure from Shalom’s finger rubbing at your walls, Rahu flinches and looks up at you with the most neediest of eyes you’ve ever seen. Another glob of precum slides down her stiffening shaft, and she actually lets out a whimper, begging for Shalom to let her touch you.

“Shalom, I…”

“Hush, pet.” Shalom whispers, eyes not even meeting hers, as she was laser focused on the way your cunt was just swallowing her in. “You’ll get your turn when I say so, but for now, let me savor this sweet little treat…”

You whine when she suddenly tilts your head back for a kiss, the sight of her mistress kissing such a cute woman causing Rahu to groan and twitch her cock with need. “Shalom…”

“So impatient you are…” Shalom tuts, finally, finally turning to Rahu while squishing your face with her free hand. “You’re practically rock hard just from watching. Don’t you have any shame?” 

Rahu’s eyes flicker down in an act of guilt, before slowly training her eyes back up to stare at your beautifully puffy pussy. 

“…No, I don’t.” Rahu whimpers softly, seemingly eager to sheath her shaft inside you. 

“Hm, a bit honest there, aren’t we?” Shalom chuckles, before sliding her fingers out from your cunt to give an experimental taste. “I’ll allow it. As a reward for your honesty, you can have a taste of this…deliciously wet woman.”

The wicked woman smirks as Rahu’s eyes widen in surprise. Almost immediately however, she springs up from her kneeling position on the floor, and grips her cock into her hand, groaning as she was finally able to touch it, before running over and kissing you desperately on the mouth. 

Through muffled whimpers, Rahu angles her cock to slip inside, all the while Shalom giggles and helps spread your legs a little wider.

“Now this should get interesting…”

LANGLEY AND NIGHTINGALE

“Come on Adjutant. That mouth of yours has got to have other uses other than yapping.”

Langley sneers as she pushes the loyal Adjutant down to eat you out with more energy, the Adjutant’s eyebrows furrowing at the disrespect, and pulling away slightly to argue. “With all due respect, Langley. That comment was unnecessary and m-mmpf!” 

“The poor girl is all sensitive and needy, Nightingale. Don’t make her wait any longer than she has to.” Langley flashes you a snide smirk, before shoving Nightingale back down to continue eating you out. “Atta girl. Gotta reward the rookie when she deserves it, yeah?”

While Nightingale so desperately wanted to argue back, she couldn’t deny how soft and addicting your pussy felt on her tongue. All it took was a few more licks and the poor Adjutant was hooked, gripping your thighs into her hands and smearing her tongue against your clit till her face was covered in slick. 

“Goodness, what a peckish birdie,” Langley chuckles, striding over to where you were currently laying as she wanted to get a good look at you. “Now, to enjoy the rookie’s pretty face…”

She grins as she watches the way your face contorts into expressions of ecstasy, Nightingale’s frantic tongue not even following a singular pattern, as all she wanted to do was taste more and more of your mouth-watering slick. It was clear that Nightingale too, wasn’t as experienced as having sexual intercourse —unlike the infamous 9th Agency leader— however, the clear inexperience of two innocent women lying in her bed, was too attractive for Langley not to get aroused over.

“Oh, Adjutant…” Langley chuckles, admiring the pussy-drunk expression on the blue-haired woman’s face. “Have you ever eaten out a woman before? Your moves are amateur and the expression you’re making makes it seem so.”

Nightingale ignores the Agency leader’s probing words, and continues sliding her tongue deeper into your cunt, causing you to writhe and let out a surprised gasp. 

“…Hm. Well, I suppose sloppy movements would feel like heaven to another woman who’s never been eaten out before.” Langley chuckles and caresses your face with both hands, giving it a gentle squeeze before standing back up to unzip her skirt. “However, I do want to see women improve when dealing with things in the bedroom, so let’s take this as a practice session for you two.”

Nightingale could barely register her words, but you can, looking  up at the way Langley smirked down at you and dropped her skirt to the floor. “Whaddya say, rookie. Up for a little challenge with your boss?” She lets out a husky chuckle and peels her panties off to reveal a glistening wet pussy. “I’d like to see how good your tongue game is compared to the little bird.”

She casts Nightingale a knowing glance, and she manages to hear it but couldn’t care less. All she does is continue digging her tongue into your folds, groaning and rubbing her thighs together as she couldn’t wait to be serviced next in your little session with Langley.

Meanwhile, Langley gently taps your cheek and forces you to pay attention to her. There was a glint of jealousy in her eyes when she saw how you were looking at Nightingale with bedroom eyes, but they left as soon as they came. “Eyes up here, rookie. Mouth open, tongue out.” 

In a dazed state, you obediently listen, parting your lips to await the the sweet arrival of Langley’s cunt on your face, and a blissful moan of ecstasy climbs through your throat the moment she gets herself seated. 

“Oh…rookie…” Langley breathes out, smirking and getting herself comfortable. “I was right for picking you. You’re the perfect addition to Nightingale and I’s nighttime sessions.” 

Nightingale makes a muffled moan at that, bumping her nose against your clit and giving your inner thigh a small kiss. 

“Now, let’s see how good you are at using that tongue, rookie.”

CHELSEA AND EIRENE

“Oh please, like that strap on is big enough for my baby…”

Chelsea rolled her eyes at the strap that Eirene presented herself with, and pointed to her own strap like it was the bigger and better one in comparison to Eirene’s. 

“Your strap is missing girth. My sugar baby loves it when I buy her all the thicker toys.” 

“Oh, please.” Eirene scoffs and runs a hand down her strap, caressing it rather sensually as she knew you were staring at it with curious eyes. “Girth is not all that matters. That toy of yours would break her in seconds. Length is what she definitely needs, all your toys are so short and…stubby.” 

She narrows her eyes in a rather condescending way, clearly not enjoying how Chelsea was ridiculing her choice in sex toys. Chelsea picked up on the hostility coming from Eirene’s gaze, and scoffed before turning to you, lying innocently on the bed all sprawled out and waiting for your sugar mommies to tend to you. 

“Dear, you’ve always preferred girth, yes? You love the feeling of being stretched open to your limit and—”

“Don’t get hasty now, Chelsea.” Eirene hums, staring at you with those heterochromatic eyes, “I bet she would enjoy a new feeling for once. Perhaps a longer toy she never got to experience since you always dull her with the same old experiences.”

“Oh you little—”

“Tsk, why don’t we just ask her then? See what she prefers.”

They both turn to you at the same time, startling you as you didn’t expect to be caught in the middle of the turmoil. You weren’t sure of how to respond at first, but before you could even open your mouth and utter a word, Chelsea beat you to it.

“You know what, forget this. What better way than to settle this, than by fucking her with each toy. Then, we can ask her for her opinion afterwards when she’s all spent out. I’m getting antsy just standing here.” Eirene’s eyebrow raised at Chelsea’s bold claim, yet the prospect of a competition (especially a competition regarding you) had the chess prodigy standing on her toes. 

“…Alright then. Let’s settle this once and for all.” She declares, moving over to the bed and tapping you so that you’d get into position. Doggy style, since Eirene loved admiring your soft back. “I fuck her first. It’s only fair given how I was the first to get to her.”

“Ughhh…” Chelsea groans before making her way to where your mouth was, tapping your chin and making you look up at her. “I’m sorry, my sweet baby. Looks like I’ll have to fuck your mouth this time for the first round. Get my cock nice and lubed up, okay? I’ll be fucking you next round.”

Though a bit upset that Eirene beat her to the punch (or rather, pussy) Chelsea smiled nonetheless and pressed the tip of her strap to your lips. At the same time, you felt Eirene press the tip of her strap to the entrance of your cunt, both women prepared to fuck you senseless, as nothing motivated them more than to spoil you with absolute ecstasy. 

“We’ll see who she likes better, Miss Eirene.”

“Likewise, Countess Chelsea.” 

And as they both smirked in good sportsmanship, both women raised their hips and slowly descended into you, causing you to simultaneously moan and gag at the same time. They sure do love their sugar baby…

[sinsmockingbird]

Reader buying Xl condoms reactions but with Chameleon, Nightingale, zoya, and Bai yi

I feel like at this point I should just write something with all the PTN women reacting to reader buying those sized condoms for themselves in front of them.

CW: Smut under the cut!

✧ BAI YI

• Bai Yi can't even being to stop herself from being downright dirty in the store as soon as she sees you grabbing the XL sized condoms.

• She's holding onto your arm, caressing your body, whispering god awful dirty things into your ear, and even goes so far to grope your crotch in an aisle when no one is looking. She's holding a devious smirk on her face, biting her bottom lip as she feels you grow hard under her touch.

• She's clearly trying to push your buttons, and sadly it was very much working. You were getting unbelievably pent up as you continued shopping with her, your face a deep red from arousal and anger. You were trying so hard to hide the giant tent building.

• As soon as you get home, force Bai Yi into bed and either tease & edge the shit out of her with just your tip, or fuck her like an animal in heat, rough and fast with your entire length shoving into her. You gotta teach her a lesson after all what she did at the store.

✧ CHAMELEON

• Chameleon is sliding up behind you, licking her lips as she looks over your shoulder and watches you grab the XL sized condoms. She can feel a heat building between her legs as she begins to imagine how big you must be.

• She's tracing her lips across your neck, mumbling dirty little things for only you to hear. Telling you how she wants to watch your huge cock twitch and leak from her teasing, and wants to see the bulge you'll make on her stomach when your buired inside her.

• It has you breathing heavily, your cock twitching and aching in your pants as you try so hard to focus on finishing up shopping. Chameleon will leave you alone for the rest of the time, watching you struggle as you can't get the images of her words out of your head.

• It's adorable to see you become putty in her hands when you get home, so obedient for her as you try to stay still as she teases your giant cock, making tears spring to your eyes before you end up cumming all over her hand.

✧ ZOYA

✧ NIGHTINGALE

• Nightingale is a blushing mess when she notices you reaching for the XL sized condoms. She's letting out a little squeak, quickly covering her mouth with her hand as her eyes widen and she quickly turns away from you to continue shopping.

• She'll be biting and nibbling on her bottom lip until it's bleeding as she can't help but imagine how fucking big you must be for those condoms. She's trying to focus but failing miserably as her mind keeps drifting.

• Even all the way to the car, she has her head hung low, unable to meet your gaze in a sort of shame for having these thoughts. You'll have to interrogate her in the car to know what's going on, and she'll meekly reply with, "How is it going to fit?"

• Hearing that has you laughing, before you place a hand on her thigh and squeeze as you give her a smirk, promising you'll be extra slow and gentle with her as soon as you get home.

• Zoya is immediately thinking about how this is a challenge when she sees you grab the XL sized condoms. You must be huge to use those, but it's nothing she won't be able to handle, if anything she's going to make sure she can take you.

• She'll make a joke about how big you must be, saying she can't wait to see you use that monster between your legs on her. It has you flustered and embarrassed as you make sure no one heard her before hurrying away to finish shopping.

• She'll be laughing as she watches you hurry up, mainly because you don't want her to say anything else embarrassing like that. And she doesn't, instead tugging you close to her and whispering in your ear as you leave the store about how she can't wait to taste you.

• Expect a messy, but wonderfully satisfying blowjob from her before she's riding you with almost no trouble, quickly becoming addicted and accustomed to your large size.

[mubabee]

Yandereish ig?

If you don’t understand che’s part, he has names for his weapons(I don’t know which one is Jon and which one is Jay)

(Genderbent!Hecate, genderbent!Nightingale, genderbent!Dudu, Che, Levy)

And here’s an extra one.

[purpleberiii]

"My dear soulmate"

☆Prompt: In which the Adjutant refuses to acknowledge the soul mate mark shared by you and her. After the mark was removed, Adjutant realised that she needed you but it was too late.

☆Warnings: Angst, Slight comfort at the end with another sinner, reader being a sinner.

It wasn't planned nor was it expected. The hardworking, strict Adjutant bearing a mark similar to that of a dangerous sinner. One whom she depised with all her heart; though sometimes her heart tells her things she doesn't like to hear.

If she could have a chance to pick another soulmate she would but god not you. Anyone but you. Why did she despise you this much? WS it because you are a sinner? Or is it because she cannot be seen with such a person?

Either way, Nightingale made it her duty to turn you down everytime you attempted to talk to her. Poor you just wanted to connect to your soulmate but she had different plans.

Your personality was kind, gentle and caring; things that a sinner wasn't expected to have. Such personality could only be owned by angels and not demons like you.

Everyone inside the Bureau knew about the mark and despite the fear Nightingale had that they would judge her, they didn't. She heard numerous times from different persons that a soulmate is the most wonderful thing, to which she'd only scoffed and walk away.

Every morning when the Adjutant comes to your cell, you'd sit by peacefully with a smile on your face, trying to start up a conversation, offering compliments everytime you saw her. On Valentines, you even went out of your way to buy tons of chocolates and flowers, even a big Teddy bear.

She of course, threw it all away, and unbeknownst to her, you witnessed the way she kicked open the bin and poured every chocolate and flowers, but she didn't throw away the Teddy. Though she acted heartless, in the back of her mind thought it was cute but her neglecting out weighed her acceptance.

She found herself doing things that she didn't even realise, she never thought she'd acted that way. Even the Chief at some point told her that she's disappointed with the way she acted and to have her beloved Cheif being disappointed, it was like a nightmare.

She blamed you. Though she didn't have a valid reason, she did. And through her hate, she sent you on an expedition, one that she was well aware of that it was dangerous to an extent that even the Chief was prohibited from going. Part of her wanted to cancel your mission but the other part still sent you.

When you came back all bloodied and barely making it to the doors of the Bureau, Nightingale watched it horror as an oxygen mask was hurriedly placed and you were quickly rushed to the hospital. In a state of shock, she sat motionless in her office of an hour until the Chief came in, an angry expression written on her face.

"You knew it was dangerous! Why did you send her?!"

"..." No words came out of her mouth.

"I'm very disappointed in you! Be it whether you're the leader of the Nineth Agency or my Adjutant, my sinners' health comes first and I won't tolerate anyone who jeopardises that. You're suspended for a month Nightingale and until you can get your mind set straight, I suggest you don't contact me or y/n."

Those words hit the Adjutant like a knife and in a slow and steady motion she packed up her things and left. Whispers could be heard from everyone as she passed by.

In that same night, she had a strange voice talk to her in her sleep. Though the voice was gentle, an unhinged tone it portrayed. "You defied the rules of fate for you had neglected the one true mate given to yourself. You will be free from her, but you shall never find another one who will treat you the same."

In a daze of fear she woke up, sweating and trembling. The atmosphere felt heavy and she huddled up in her covers and weeped.

While you were in the hospital, laying unconscious on the bed with machines hooked around you, a strange voice spoke you to as well. "My child, you have been neglected by your one true mate. Fate had not planned that for you but, you shall be free of your mark and of the pain and agony you felt with your previous mate. You will now be free to choose whomever you wish to be with." A hand stroked your head and you were awakened by the touch. It felt like an angel had touched you.

You woke up to find Hamel by your bed side, a gentle yet concerned look on her face. "You're finally awake. How are you feeling?" You stared at Hamel in a daze and felt a burning sensation. As you looked, you saw your mark being faded away slowly and Nightingale's face flashed once more in your mind. Thus the relationship between you and Hamel began.

When Nightingale returned to work, she immediately looked for you. She spotted you in the hallway, making your way back to your cell. She made it in time to grab your hand and throw her body into your arms, sobbing loudly. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please forgive me! Please..."

You just pushed her off you and she slid down the floor, tears pouring out of her eyes like a waterfall. When her eyes met the sight of your hugging Hamel, she knew she was done for. She didn't see the mark on you but her marked was still present.

It was her punishment from Fate. As the mark will still be present, she will be without a mate for all of her life and if she falls in love, the person shall never return her love.

"My dear soulmate. I'm sorry..."

[shalomniscient]

i love nightingale x f!chief so can i request hc of them de stressing each other in a wholesome and nsfw ways <333333

f!chief x nightingale my beloved..................... as you wish, anon 🫡🫡🫡 though i will be writing f!chief in the context of her being the reader, if that's alright

de-stress || nightingale x reader [NSFT]{MDNI]

cw. fingering, strap-ons, semi-public sex

notes. [NSFT] is under the cut

SFT

Destressing usually happens at home, for you and Nightingale. The days are long and tiring for the both of you, so when you get home you both drag yourselves to the shower to wash up, then flop into bed together. Nightingale doesn't outwardly say it but she loves being cuddled and held in your arms; she's lost you so many times, and sometimes for so, so long that it brings her so much peace to know that you're here. That you're okay.

If Nightingale's had a bad day, she needs a little extra pampering. Maybe you wash her hair for her, then give her a nice, slow massage on her shoulders down to her back. She'll practically melt into the bed, and more often than not end up dozing off completely. You let her sleep in, but she'll always arrive at the office 30 minutes after, flushed but looking definitely more well-rested.

(She smacks you on the shoulder for letting her be late, but before she leaves your office she sets a small packed lunch on your desk.)

If you're the one stressed, Nightingale generally does much the same. For you, your source of stress (outside work) is the recurring nightmares you get. The shackles are powerful, but you are just as shackled to your Sinners as they are to you. Sometimes, their dreams or their nightmares bleed into yours, and you lose whatever remnants of sleep you could've had. You don't like it, both because you can't sleep and because it wakes Nightingale up.

But Nightingale doesn't mind. She pulls you close instead, tucking your head beneath her chin and rubbing circles on your back to soothe you back to sleep. Touch has always been something that grounded you, relaxed you, and Nightingale's touch is especially effective.

NSFT

The hornier way of destressing can go one of two ways, I feel: soft, or desperate.

Soft is reserved for when you and Nightingale are truly just tired, but still want that intimacy. Usually it'll be things like you slipping a hand down her sleep shorts to finger her to a quiet orgasm before bed, and then her returning the favor to you. There'll be a lot of kisses exchanged, breathless against each others' lips, in between whispered i love yous.

Desperate, on the other hand... this is tension stress. Maybe one or both of you had a bad day, which leads to furious makeouts in hidden corners of the MBCC, you front pressing her back against the wall, her arms around your neck. These kisses burn, her teeth scraping your lower lip as she grinds on your thigh between her legs.

You pull apart eventually and find a more secluded spot, usually your 'hideaway' or even your office where you always keep a strap handy. Nightingale sets a time for 15 minutes and that's all the time you get to take her to absolute pound town. Which you do, obviously, and you're so glad the office walls are soundproofed.

Nightingale always cums with a shaky, whiny cry of your name that you eagerly swallow with a kiss. She's so pretty like this that you could cum from watching her alone. Aftercare in these situations is helping Nightingale fix her appearance, tucking stray strands of loose green hair back behind her ear and fixing her cap back on securely on her head, before you part ways for the remainder of the day with a gentle kiss, now that the tension has all been fucked out of both of you.

[vrachis]

the carnal desire to rail adjutant nightingale from hit game path to nowhere 😔😔😔

a/n :???? the babygirl ever, wanna spoil her and fuck her silly ssjskmsjskms

rough nails scrape against your back, carving deep, red lines across your skin. you grunt and fix your posture, focused on railing the fuck out of the adjutant. the aquamarine haired woman flails helplessly in your arms, holding on to you for dear life while you pummel deeper into her soaking hole.

your thrusts, filled with so much vigour that they almost knock the adjutant out of your hold several times. you almost wonder how nightingale was able to go through with all this, but you started it ever since you had the idea of fucking her silly in the halls.

“didn’t think you’d agree, miss adjutant.” you chuckle in her ear. your words elicit a whine from her, making her cunt tighten around you in the process.

“what would the chief think, hm?” the question makes her whine louder, and you laugh in amusement at her reaction from the mention of her boss.

“maybe i should get her to join next time. how about that? both of us fucking your holes and filling you up to the brim…. fuck, that’d be so hot. don’t you think so, doll?”

[pathtonowhereimagine]

Valentine's Day Special

⊱ ────────────── {.⋅ M ⋅.} ───────────── ⊰

Characters; Zoya, Countess Chelsea, Cinnabar, Wendy, Nightingale

TW; Fluff and hints at smut

Notes; Happy Valentine's!!

⊱ ────────────── {.⋅ M ⋅.} ───────────── ⊰

Zoya

When Valentine's day comes Zoya will take the day off to spend the day with her S/o she won't tolerate any calls from the Legion or the MBCC, because she wants to be with S/o for a day without fighting anyone or anything just a day full of love

She has a whole day planned first thing she does is make breakfast in bed with heart pancakes, a bike ride through the city, then at night out head to the country side where she set up a picnic next to a lake

And during the whole night as she and S/o snuggle on the blanket she can't help but admire them as they gaze at the stars above them, when she's caught staring at them she just smoothers them in kisses

Afterwards when at home she'll draw out a warm bath with candles, oil and rose petals making it look like it came out of a movie, Zoya will help S/o out of their clothes and help them relax via massaging their body or help release tension in more ways then one

Countess Chelsea

She uses Valentine's Day as an excuses to spend a whole lot of money on her S/o not taking any no because and her words "It's the day of love and I want to show how much I adore you!"

Countess will buy out a whole restaurant for the day it doesn't matter if people had reservations she wants to pamper S/o, but will comply to S/o when they told to her to let other plan dine here because it's unfair to them

Buys even more experience gifts that S/o has or had laid their eyes from clothes to figures, posters, games or machines no matter what it is, she'll straight up buy it right away out of love of course

But at the end of the day when they return home Chelsea will become bashful as she grabs something from her drawer, holding a black box as she runs her thumb on the cover until she gives it to S/o. Opening the box to reveal a handmade ring with a pink sapphire in the center with red diamonds around it

Cinnabar

Cinnabar hasn't had much time to celebrate the day of love with anyone for quite a while but never the less she'll try her best, much like Zoya will take the day off to spend the day with S/o but might take a call or two to much sure everythings alright

First thing she does when wake ups snuggle closer to S/o and kiss their shoulder whispering in their ear a good morning love, spending a few minutes in bed with them until she decides to make breakfast

Then for the rest of day Cinnabar will do everything her S/o will ask of her she's treating them like royalty for the day; massage their feet? As you wish. Make them a croissant? Done. Buy them tea? Here you go.

When night falls Cinnabar will carry them up to their bedroom getting them out of their clothes, so that she can show them how much she loves them. And when she's done she'll hold them close as she kisses their bitten and bruised skin until they fell asleep

Wendy

She never really got to the spend holiday since she and the other undertakers had to deal the mania and Corruptors, so when S/o mentioned the day she didn't know how to celebrate it

Luckily for her Wendy spends the day going around the city as S/o shows and teaches her what the holiday is like, giving her everything heart shaped and candy as well as the many gifts that came with it. Much to her confusion since some of the things have a big difference in her life as an undertaker

As soon as she understands it Wendy will go out and find anything to show her love in all even getting things that she thinks is a form of love, then she'll use her chainsaw to crave a heart out of wood since she's pretty at it

But at the end of the day she'll lay on S/o's chest on the couch as they watch a horror movie together feeding other popcorn, laughing at the misfortune of the characters towards the end of the film S/o finding themselves tangled in her arms with no escape and having no choice to cuddle her

Nightingale

She doesn't get to celebrate the holiday as much as she likes to but deicide to take two days off to spend it with her S/o making up for her late night works, but unfortunately when the day comes she slept in messing up her plans today

But thankful her S/o planned ahead and got a reservations at their favorite restaurant and telling her that today they'll take care of her today, making sure that the day is all about her and that the Bureau knows that she needs to take a break (Thankfully the Chief understands and babysits for the next days)

Then afterwards they have a walk through the city arms locked in with each other talking about anything that comes to mind, occasionally stopping to admire/watch something such as musicians or street entertainer and stopped by every flower cart giving her a rose

When they come home NG is lead to their backyard where she's surprised with an outdoor movie theater and picnic (set up by the Chief and Sinners) as the projector plays her favorite movie as they night rolls on, Night finds herself settled on their chest as they played with her hair and soon enough felling asleep as S/o wraps a blanket around her

[avis-writeshq]

not me asking for it https://www.tumblr.com/avis-writeshq/744966259884556288/if-someone-asks-for-it-ill-write-a-fic-based-on?source=share

pairing: s9!spencer reid x fem!reader genre: fluff, established relationship, SMUT warnings: 18+ CONTENT; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !! oral fem receiving, spencer reid is a munch, hair pulling, fingering a/n: a promise is a promise !! based off of this post <3 i hope this lived up to expectations !! first time writing fem oral ha h a ha wc: 1.1k

Honestly, if there’s one person Spencer can blame for the situation he is currently in, he blames himself. After all, he should have known that a ‘gathering’ at Rossi’s house that was planned by Penelope would only call for a lot of teasing, a lot of ‘get to know each other!’ games (despite the fact that he has worked with this same team for more than seven years. What else is there to know?), and a lot of alcohol. He didn’t quite realise that these games would be of the drinking variety. Alas, here he is, sitting on one of Rossi’s incredibly expensive leather couches and cringing at the horrid taste of whiskey. 

The game they’re currently playing is an alcoholic’s rendition of ‘who is most likely to?’, involving a thick stack of cards with different topics while each member of the team took turns reading out. Whoever ended up with the most amount fingers pointed in their direction was forced to drink.

Spencer hates this game. He has drank from his cup a grand total of six times, and he is not getting any more used to the spicy-poison-equivalent in his hand. 

“Alright, this is a good one,” Derek announces with a manic snigger. “Who here is most likely to be a munch?”

There is no hesitation in anyone’s answers, and all six fingers point into Spencer’s direction. His jaw drops at the betrayal, his head spinning from the sheer amount of shots he had to take but also what the hell is a munch?

“I don’t even know what that means!” He insists. 

“Oh–” Penelope wears a half delighted half pitying expression at his words. “We really need to get you onto the internet more. Reddit is probably up your alley.”

“Even Rossi knows what it means,” Emily cackles, gesturing to Rossi who looks all too pleased. “Hotch was my second option though.”

Aaron shrugs, sipping at his drink. “Guilty.”

A chorus of laughs and shrieks erupt from the group, leaving Spencer even more confused. “What?”

“Don’t Google it,” JJ chimes in. “Seriously.”

Spencer nods, and although he knows that he should have taken the warning seriously, the curiosity was getting to him and he had no choice but to search it up as soon as he got home. He gets the usual answers– the etymology of the word, what it means in the Oxford Dictionary, the popularity of the word since the early 1800s, and he really doesn’t understand what the fuss is. Does the team think that he eats loudly? Or that he chews with his mouth open? His brows furrow at the unsightly thought. 

His interest soon shifts to a different a different link, namely The Urban Dictionary. He blinks, clicking on the link without much thought and– oh. He does not get much sleep that night.

*** 

Your relationship with Spencer isn’t a secret. At least, it was never supposed to be classified as such. He is simply an incredibly private person that even his closest friends don’t know that you exist. It simply never popped up in conversation– or so he says.

The relationship isn’t necessarily new either. It’s nearing the one year mark and you have gotten to the point where the two of you have been more ‘experimental’ when it comes to sex. He finds it embarrassing. You find it unsurprising that he would. You find it even more surprising when he breaks a kiss halfway to lower you onto his bed, your head falling to one of his very expensive memory foam pillows. 

“I want to try something,” he announces softly into your ear, squeezing gently at your waist and looping his fingers into his shorts. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, body hot with anticipation as he pulls down your shorts. It’s only when he brings his face between your thighs do you realise what he intends to do. “Spence, you don’t have to–”

“I want to,” he repeats softly, his fingers running up and down the lacy fabric at your slit. “If you want me to stop, you can tell me.”

You shake your head immediately at that, your hands moving to his grip his shoulders. “No, I don’t want you to stop but– but Spence, this is the first time you’ve done this. It’s okay–”

“Let me do this for you,” he says, his breath ghosting against the sensitive skin of your thighs. “I’ve done my research.”

“What–”

You’re silenced as soon as he presses his lips to your cunt, only separated by your pretty lacy underwear. He groans quietly at the taste of your slick seeping through the fabric, and his hands hold onto your thighs to keep them parted. It’s so good, so good, but it just isn’t enough. He pushes the fabric to the side, watching the way it clings and sticks to your skin. 

All it takes is one swipe of his tongue on your pretty clit for his brain to grow blank. The grip he has on your thighs grow firmer and his fingers dig in hard enough to leave little marks. His nose bumps against your clit while his tongue travels against your folds. 

“You taste so fucking good,” he breathes against you, lapping at your dripping cunt. “Fuck, angel, you’re so beautiful.”

Then, he’s on you all over again. His lips wrap around your clit and he whines into you as he sucks at the bundle of nerves. Each one of his actions has your back lifting from the bed and your hands tugging at his curls, to which he responds with a quiet moan. Amidst the pleasure, your mind nags you to be gentle, and you loosen your grip despite it taking all of your self control.

“Do that again.” He says it as a demand, guiding your hands back into his hair. “Do it again, angel.”

His head is spinning and he craves for more of you, his tongue flattening against your clit over and over again. He brings his own fingers to brush against your entrance, coating them with your slick before slipping his middle finger inside. It’s only the first knuckle but it’s enough to have you squirming beneath him. He pushes further until it reaches all the way, and Spencer groans at the feeling of you tightening around him. He kisses your clit again at the same time he curls his finger inside you and it’s all too much. 

“Spence–”

You gush around his finger and he licks and laps at your pussy like he needs it to breathe. His finger curls open and closed inside you while you rock your hips against his face, your grip on his hair tightening as each second of your high passes. 

“So good,” Spencer moans, kissing your clit. “Taste so good. You can do one more, right, angel? Just one more, I promise.”

reblogs are always appreciated !!

tagging the people who commented on the original post: @mosaicbrokenherz @doigettokeepyou @goblinintheblog @cassioxpeiaxmgg @daddytenebra @lilliumrorum @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @lightreiding

[spookbooh]

How Genshin men would kiss you… Pt. 1

-Mondstat Edition-

Characters: Albedo, Diluc, Kaeya, and Venti.

•❅───✧❅✦❅���───❅•

~Albedo

Everyone always knew Albedo as a talented alchemist. A master of his art, so to speak. He was respected in a way that a renowned researcher would be held and he deserved every bit of that glory. However, when you met him, the only thing that came to mind was how soft his aura seemed to feel. That gentle voice, welcoming eyes, feathered hair, slim body… it was infatuating how you felt pulled to him.

When you two startled dating, it only got worse. Butterflies every time he came into the room, practically melting at every sweet smile he gave. Before you knew it, he seemed just as lovestruck for you as you had been for him- immediately scouting you out whenever he returned to the city, buying you lunch if you were too busy to do it yourself; It was a side of him everyone else hardly ever saw. He just felt.. like home. His touches were always gentle, as if taking in your every move to make sure he’d never hurt you.

You started frequenting Dragonspine just to see him- the treacherous journey up the path to him was worth it every time, every scold he gave you for coming to him, every small experiment you could help with, every “I missed you”, every cuddle to keep you warm… and eventually every kiss he graced your lips.

It started off as small pecks. Forehead kisses, bringing your bare palm to his lips as if to warm your hands in place of gloves (that he always nagged at you to wear to avoid the sheer coldness of the mountains), he never failed at making your heart soar. You’d never expect him to be such a romantic, and yet he was. You loved him all the more for it.

One night, you had run into some fatui who stubbornly would not let you pass the path you usually took to Albedo, delaying your arrival a full two hours. Albedo had been worried sick, immediately rushing to you when you arrived very cold and very hungry.

“Damn those brutes…” he cursed, praying you were completely alright as he grabbed some of his rations and saved spring water. He tenderly wrapped you in a blanket and sat you by the little campfire in his research area, no longer caring about his work and focusing on you for the time being. He brushed snowflakes out of your hair and gently wiped them away from your eyelashes. Even after assuring him that you were alright, he still persisted on pampering you until he was sure you were 100%.

One moment led to the next, and you found yourself in his arms, his lips on yours. He kissed you softly, one hand on holding the back of your head and the other gently wrapped around your back as you two sat by the fire. The warm air contrasting with the icy breeze into the nook in the mountain was the least bit distracting as everything just seemed to fade away in his embrace.

When he pulled away, his forehead against yours to maintain closeness in this new experience, he let out a shaky breath, a small puff of his warm exhale lingering for a moment.

“I love you, snowflake..” he whispered, and you felt your heart glow.

- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -

~Diluc

Diluc originally hired you as Charles’ assistant at the Angel’s Share. But you always came in even if it was Diluc running it and not Charles. He was (reluctantly) forced to get used to you being around. Even if his cold demeanor scared off most, you never seemed convinced. At heart, you knew he was a gentlemen- even when he used to keep you at arms length. He still does, just not as much as everyone else and you took that as a compliment. Even so, you couldn’t help but fall for him. His crimson hair, those ruby eyes…

You remember accompanying him to the Dawn Winery for a new batch of dandelion wine shipment to the Angel’s Share. All you can remember is the sweet and genuine smile he gave to the head housemaid, Adelinde. It melted your heart and you knew you’d do anything for him to look at you with any expression similar.

From what you gathered, Adelinde had helped raise him and Kaeya from their younger years, so that would explain the fondness. But still, after that discovery, nothing you tried ever got the same result. Bringing him lunch, greeting him with a sweet smile, even hugging him didn't seem to do anything but make his expression tense and cheeks tint ever so slightly. Clearly you had to aim higher.

And so, when a patron had approached you one night while Diluc was serving as bartender in place of Charles, drink in hand and a flirty tone in their voice, you smirked playfully. If you couldn’t get the expression you wanted, you could at least try for a different reaction out of him. You persisted in talking to the drunken patron, holding back a laugh when you noticed Diluc looking over a few times.

After a while, Diluc surprised you by intervening in your conversation. Definitely a more direct response than you had expected but you still felt smug about getting anything.

“Ahem, if you’ll excuse us,” he said with a rather irritated smile before grabbing your wrist and dragging you into the wine cellar. You nearly jumped out of your skin when he firmly grabbed you by the shoulders and pressed you against the wall, a shiver running up your spine when you looked up at him. Those usually calm ruby eyes were now infuriated, glaring down at you with a certain twist of jealousy. You shivered and that smug smirk on your face quickly dissipated.

“What the hell are you doing out there?” He said, venom in his voice, though not aimed at you. You stammered, realizing that maybe this was a little more than a meager “reaction”. Before you could say another word, you felt his hand snake around your waist and the other tipping your chin up, sealing his lips on yours. It’s rather gentle despite his clear irritation, but still enough to tell you how he felt on this matter. When he pulled away just to lean into your ear, however…

“Nightingale..” he spoke into your ear in a possessive tone. You could feel your legs giving out.

≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫

~Kaeya

Kaeya was a flirt. You knew that, of course you knew- everyone knew! It was practically impossible with all the compliments he’s given you since meeting you. You figured he did this with everyone, that he did it either as a way to make a name for himself as a romantic interest for the people in Mondstat to gossip about, or just to fuck with people. But after a while, you realized that you were his main victim when it came to flirty behaviors.

It started off normal- occasionally teasing, random compliments, basically all the actions that would be considered an attempt on someone’s good graces. However, it slowly morphed into more than that.

He would buy you flowers at random, and when you questioned him about it, he would just smile and say you deserved it or that you looked like you needed some that day. He’d bring you treats and hold the door open for you whenever you walked somewhere together. He’d even go so far as to have someone deliver a lavish dinner to you on the nights he couldn’t take you personally. It was the smaller gestures that eventually got to you.

A while after this started, you realized that no one else seemed to return his advances. He had earned his flirty reputation early on and no one thought he was genuine (which in most cases, he wasn’t) but for some reason, you felt his actions toward you were different in a way.

Once some nights of pondering had passed, you decided to act on this. Just a small return of romanticism would be fine, right? You were curious to see how he’d react. If he’d try to advance further or just be shocked from the reciprocation.

Your opportunity ultimately came when he came close to you and tucked a strand of your hair back behind your ear, complimenting your eyes and to keep your hair back so he could see them clearly. This obviously made you blush a bit, but almost without thinking, you cupped his face. No leaning in, no backing away. Just a still, soft touch.

His eyes widened a bit and his shoulders tensed, and you seemed happy with even that small of a reaction… but his eyes fluttered, now half lidded as he began leaning close. You nearly had a stroke at this point, now closer than you had ever been. Your breath hitched when he smiled softly, turning his head to kiss your palm before leaning even closer.

“What are you doing there, my lily? Perhaps you want me closer or are you tugging at my heartstrings for nothing~?” He said. You said screw it and met him halfway, straightening your posture when his hands pulled you closer at your upper back to keep your lips on his for a while longer.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

~Venti

Venti was honestly the sweetest guy you’d ever met. There was something so alluring about him that you never quite understood, but you knew it was there, nonetheless. He asked you to go out with him early in your friendship, leading to romantic feelings developing faster than you ever thought possible. He was just so sweet to you, giving you every ounce of his attention with that silly smile you loved.

Often times, he’d bring you up to one of the big windmills in the city, laughing all the way up as you both knew you shouldn’t be up there. Still, the view was too astonishing to see just a few times. He would take you up here almost daily just to spend time with you away from people.

When it came to physical affection, he was practically all over you, keening with that little smirk he always wore, but with a soft look in his eyes that always told you he was genuine. He would hold your hand or bother you for a hug, not that you’d cared. Still, you found it a little strange after 3 months of dating that he hadn’t once tried to initiate a kiss with you- considering how his love language was obviously physical touch. How peculiar.

One night, while up on the windmill balcony, he suddenly reached for your hand and stood up. He smiled as you took his with barely any hesitation. Venti came close to you, scooping you up in his arms before he used the power of Anemo to fly you up to the statue of Barbatos. At first, you yelped in surprise and then in horror as you looked down. Frankly, you didn’t know he could do such a thing.

Venti just laughed and soothed your worries, gently putting you down in the statue’s hands before the Anemo around him vanished as quickly as it appeared. You both watched the sun set, while you precariously watched your footing to hand sure you didn’t fall over the edge of the statue’s hands. After a while, you felt Venti’s touch lifting your head to look out at the city, now glowing in lights as the sun vanished over the horizon and the moon made a grand entrance above. You gasped at the sight, and you heard Venti’s soft laughter of admiration.

“Beautiful, isn’t it Windblume?”

You could barely reply with a yes from being so speechless before Venti took your hands and faced you. The look in his eyes nearly made you melt- an expression like you were the only person in the world for him.

“I’ve been wanting to bring you here for a while… but I didn’t know how you’d react. Do you… like it..?” You nodded, smiling at him.

He also smiled in return leaning closer to you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And with that, he kissed you. It was gentle, sweet. Like you were fragile glass in his arms and he wanted to keep you together. Safe to say, the two of you weren’t going anywhere for a while.

-Written by Booh <3

[nightingale-ghost-writer]

Some things can only be cultivated under pretenses [Satoru Gojo x Fem! Reader]

Summary: You were eight years old again, hiding from Satoru's parents in his treehouse. "Then you can marry me, silly!" You sat bolt upright. "Marry me!"

Author's Notes: My first ever anime/manga fic, 17.1K words of fake dating/friends to lovers/idiots to lovers that no one asked for!! The fic practically wrote itself. If you’re reading, I hope you enjoy it! Being an American, my knowledge of Japanese language and culture is quite slim. The Japanese honorifics and nicknames I’ve used are meant to be affectionate, but I realize that the relationships themselves may have quite an American slant. I did my best, but if you notice anything off or out of line, please let me know so I can fix it!

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or events from Jujutsu Kaisen

Warnings/tags: non-cursed AU, best friend! Satoru Gojo, fake marriage, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, fluff, angst, VERY suggestive content, language, minor character death(s) (past, mentioned), mention of (medical) drug usage, spoilers for/references to episodes 25-29/chapters 65-79, not beta’d!

You’re half asleep in the late afternoon sunlight streaming through the window when you hear a key turn in the door. Groggily, you sit up and rub your eyes, picking up your phone. 

“Babe? You home?”

You’ve got a missed text from Satoru that probably explains his otherwise unannounced arrival at your apartment. 

“In here,” you call, yawning. His snowy head pokes through the doorway and, despite the wide grin plastered on his face, you can tell something is wrong. 

“Sorry to wake you. Are you hungry? I brought ramen.” He’s disappeared into your kitchen but, despite this fabulous announcement, he comes right back around the corner to throw himself dramatically onto the opposite corner of your couch. 

Something is definitely wrong.

“Satoru?” You lean forward to touch his elbow, but he throws the arm over his eyes. He mutters something you don’t quite catch. “Say again?”

“It’s finally happened!” he shouts, though the sound is muffled by the hands he’s moved to cover his face. The same hands fly up as his head flies back, long legs kicking up to land on your coffee table with a loud bang. He turns to you with a wild, sarcastic smile. “My parents want me married, and by the end of the year. Or else I forfeit any rights to the family business, the house, my apartment, everything else.”

“Oh, Toru,” you breathe. You feel your heart lodge in the back of your throat before dropping to the ground with a dull thump. He shrugs, not meeting your gaze. 

“It doesn’t matter. I can sign over The Amanai Project to Nanami, go back to the Jujutsu Corporation…” But his voice trails off against his will and you’re already shaking your head. 

He’d started at the Jujutsu Corporation, a private security company, straight out of university. It’d been good for him- structure and discipline, and a new best friend you’d spent years convincing yourself you weren’t jealous of. You and Satoru hadn’t lost touch, but there were huge gaps in your days where he should have been. Until that new best friend called you from the hospital after a job gone wrong. 

Satoru had been hurt, badly. Multiple stab wounds, vicious and tearing. He still had scars from shoulder to hip, and a small one on his forehead from the butt of a gun.

Suguru hadn’t seen it happen; he’d watched their charge die. A bullet to the brain. Quick and clean, unlike the shooter. Satoru had sliced him up before collapsing in a pool of his own blood. 

When he woke up, he was different. 

You’d worried you’d lost him for good, for different reasons than the wounds, for months. Barely eating, hardly sleeping, withdrawn and absent. Suguru told you that at the girl’s funeral, carrying Riko Amanai’s corpse, Satoru had asked why they didn’t kill the whole family who’d ordered the execution. 

Suguru had disappeared not long after, and despite getting your best friend back, you still didn’t quite know why. You didn’t want to bring it up. 

You shuddered, remembering how… hollow Satoru had been after the entire incident. Your other friends had wanted you to drop him, offended for your sake that he’d let your friendship slide in the first place, but you’d remained steadfast. Long nights spent holding him, stroking his hair; long days of pulling him gently up to walk, of coaxing him to eat when he had no interest in it; even stripping him down to his boxers to shoulder him into his ridiculously fancy shower, washing his hair in your bathing suit until he halfheartedly pushed you out to wash himself. 

He’d been a shell, until he hadn’t. You’d shown up after work, armed with takeout and romcoms, and he’d been gone. You’d panicked, calling Suguru, who didn’t pick up, calling the housekeeper his mother had hired in an effort to keep you away, nearly breaking down and calling his mother. Then he’d barrelled through the door, smiling wide enough to showcase those tiny dimples, gushing about the non-profit he was going to start and the teenagers who’d inspired it. 

You sucked in a sharp breath. 

“You could lose The Amanai Project.”

He nodded slowly, not meeting your horrified stare. 

“That’s why I’d go back to Juju-”

“No,” you hissed. You weren’t prepared for the hopeless look he turned on you. He loved The Amanai Project, he loved the teenagers he worked with. He reached forward, clutching both of your hands in his tightly.

“Then what am I supposed to do?” he pleaded. And then you were eight years old again, hiding from Satoru’s parents in his treehouse. 

“They said.”

“Grown-ups always say.”

“What if they make me?”

“They can’t make you!”

He looked at you, much too seriously for an eight year old.

“They made my dad marry my mom. They’ll make me marry someone, too. And then what am I supposed to do?” He crossed his arms, pouting, and grumbled “Don’t wanna get married.”

You grabbed his little hand with your own, beaming with all of the sincerity and cleverness of a child.

“Then you can marry me, silly.”

You sat bolt upright. 

“Marry me!” you half-shouted. At Satoru’s flinch back, you apologized softly and lowered your voice. “Marry me,” you repeated. You leaned forward, excitement brewing at the ingenuity of such a simple plan. “We can get married for however long it takes to cement your place in the family business and then get a divorce.” You squeezed his hands. “Whaddya say?”

Satoru spluttered a bit, pulling his hands back to run them through his hair- a nervous habit you hadn’t seen him make since childhood. “Babe, you shouldn’t- we can’t just- I can’t ask you to-”

“You’re not asking me for anything, I offered! Besides, think of all the fun we could have. It’d be just like our sleepovers from when we were kids.” A strange look had crossed Satoru’s face, hesitation and something like pain. You sat a little straighter, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. “U-unless you don’t want to, of course. I just, I thought-”

“It’s a good idea,” he interrupted. He was focused on your hands, intertwined now in your lap. He spoke slowly, measured and thoughtful. “I just don’t want… you know how my parents can be. And what if…” He grimaced. “What if you find someone you want to be with? I don’t want to stand in your way.”

You waved this off airily. “Oh, Toru, you’ll always be part of my life. If I find someone, they’ll just have to accept the situation. Besides, there’s no reason I can’t see someone else, so long as I’m careful. It’s not like we’ll really be married.”

Satoru stood abruptly, pacing to the other side of the room, one hand raised to his chin. He stood, silent, for a long moment. You opened your mouth to say something to fill the suddenly charged space between you, but then he spoke. 

“Let me think about it.” And then in a blink, he was gone, takeout forgotten on your countertop, leaving you to blink in the void created by his absence. 

——————————————————————

The silence lasted about as long as you’d expected it would. Satoru came crashing into your apartment bright and early the next morning, singing your name. You groaned, rolling over to pick up your phone. 6:48. 

You were going to kill him. 

“Satoru Gojo!” you yelled, pulling the covers over your head. You heard him skip down the hallway and into your room. If he noticed that you’d used his full name, it didn’t deter him a bit. He flung himself down beside you, dragging you onto his chest, blankets and all. 

“My future wife!” he crooned, kissing your covered cheek. “How did you sleep?”

“It’s not even seven.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

You fumbled the blankets off your head, baring your face to the weak sunlight coming in through the open window. “How am I supposed to know how I slept when it’s so early?” You rubbed at your eyes while Satoru laughed heartily, making himself comfortable on your mountain of pillows. You paused. “Did you say future wife?”

His smile widened as he sat up, shifting you from your live body pillow. “Well, yeah. That is if the offer still stands.” He twisted himself off the bed to kneel on the floor, turning you to face him all in one smooth motion. Now he held up a small, black velvet box, which he opened the moment he had your full attention. 

A stunning engagement ring glittered up at you, catching all of the light in the room and beaming it upward through the diamond in the center. 

You blanched. 

“Satoru, what is this? This must have cost a fortune-”

“Easy,” he chuckled, setting the box aside to slide the ring onto your left hand. A perfect fit. “If we’re gonna be married, we’re gonna have to put on a good show. Starting with a beautiful ring worthy of the most beautiful woman in the world.” You hadn’t said a word, dumbstruck as you gazed down at your hand. Satoru spoke more softly now. “What do you think?”

“I think you picked my dream ring,” you breathed. He beamed up at you. 

“So does that mean yes?”

“What?” You looked at him sharply, at the hopeful expression he’d turned up to you. “Of course yes, you dork. Remember that this was my idea?”

Satoru launched himself up, bearing you backward onto the bed with his arms around you. “Yay!” he squealed, and then he was kissing your cheek and nuzzling the side of your neck. “I promise to be a good husband,” he mumbled. 

You laughed, somewhat breathless. “I wasn’t worried about it.”

You felt his smile curl up against your neck while he squeezed you impossibly tighter. “You were right, we’re gonna have so much fun.”

You were gasping now, struggling to breathe beneath his weight and in his tight grip. “Toru, can’t breathe.”

He let you go with a soft “oops”, shimmying over to lay beside you with his head propped up on one hand. His eyes shone with something you couldn’t quite place, lips curled in a gentle smile as his cerulean gaze trailed lazily over your face. He finally settled on your eyes, sharing the tranquil moment with you before leaping up. 

“Oh! I almost forgot!” He careened out of your room and down the hall into your kitchen, returning a moment later with a sly grin. “Close your eyes,” he sing-songed. 

“Close m-?”

“Close ‘em, woman!”

With a dramatic sigh, you did. If you hadn’t felt the slight dip in your mattress, you might not have known he’d come back until you felt his hand trace your knee lightly. “Open,” he whispered. 

Your vision was flooded with white and green; Satoru held out a colossal bouquet of white roses and eucalyptus, tied with a fat black ribbon. 

Your jaw dropped. 

Satoru straightened in pleasure. “See, I told you I’d be a good husband!” he crowed. 

You swatted at him playfully before taking the roses out of his hands. “Satoru, you know I don’t need all this.”

He gave you a deadpan look. “I have never, never seen any boyfriend spoil you before. I think it’s time someone did.”

You snorted. “You’re gonna ruin me for all other men if you keep it up.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he looked pleased by that. But before you could analyze the thought, he reached a hand out to you. 

“My lady.”

You laughed out loud, but took the proffered hand and slid out of bed, letting him lead you down the hall. You felt your jaw drop again when you stepped into the kitchen to see a silver tray laid out on your tiny dining table, laden with pastries and fresh fruit and a steaming pot of coffee. 

“Consider me ruined,” you mumbled, beelining for the coffee to the sound of Satoru’s raucous laughter. You smiled to yourself, and over your shoulder at him. 

This would be fun. 

——————————————————————

Reality set in slowly over the course of the next few days, for both of you.

Satoru’s parents were furious, as expected, but enough to call you directly, which was not. After all, they had always refused to acknowledge your existence, as though hoping you might disappear entirely if they ignored you for long enough.

“We know that you’ve always had a bit of trouble staying away, dear, but we had never quite expected this, this…”

“Devotion, ma’am?”

“Parasitic behavior from you!”

Ouch. 

“I assure you, Gojo-sama, I’m not marrying your son for money. As you know, we’ve always been close. I’ve always loved him.” All true, as you’d agreed the story should be. The only lie in it lay in the implication of one, tiny word. 

If anyone was close enough to spot it, it certainly wouldn’t be his parents. 

All the same, his mother groaned and his father scoffed in the background. The elder Gojo’s voice was muffled by distance when he said “Of course she has, but I’d expected Satoru, at least, to outgrow it by now.”

What?

You weren’t given an opportunity to question it, though. Satoru’s mother dismissed you, something about “being in touch” soon. Whatever that meant. 

You sat for several long moments, puzzling over that last comment. Outgrow what? His parents couldn’t possibly mean that he’d been in love with you, you would have known. Certainly, you’d had a crush on Satoru for years- your first and most long-standing crush, at that. That must be what they meant. He must’ve had a childhood infatuation, as well. Nothing more. 

You shook yourself, content to be back on solid footing, and dialed Satoru’s number by heart. He picked up on the third ring, yelling to one of the teenagers he was training, before greeting you warmly. When you relayed the conversation with his parents, minus that strange comment from his father, you could feel the waves of rage rolling off him through the phone. 

“They called you a parasite!?” he shouted, and you heard his students drop their voices to whispers. 

“Parasitic, not a parasite.”

“Oh, don’t you bullshit semantics with me,” he seethed. “How dare they, who do they think they are to talk to you that way? I won’t stand for this. They owe you an apology.” You tried to cut in, to reassure him that you were less bothered than you were, in truth, but his tirade went on without any sign of stopping. You could hear him put his phone down, still swearing and half-shouting to himself. You heard something that sounded suspiciously like wood cracking, heard him pick up his phone again, heard the bell on the gym door opening. 

“Satoru!” you shouted. 

“What!?” he shouted back. You waited patiently as he drew in a deep breath. More calmly, he repeated himself. “What?”

“Don’t give them the satisfaction.”

He was angry enough to sputter, his usual cool, smooth speech long-gone. “They can’t talk to you that way! You’re going to be my wife!”

“Fake wife,” you muttered, half amused and half touched by the vehemence of his outburst. 

“That doesn’t matter. You’ve been my best friend forever. It has to stop!”

You sighed. “You know that they’ll only think I’m a whiny, sniveling leech if you say anything.” He was silent, and you could tell from the steady hum of traffic that he’d finally stopped walking. “Go back to your kids.”

“They’re not my kids.” The reply was automatic, an old joke between the two of you about his students. You heard him start walking again, and a moment later, the bell on the door jingled again. 

You heard the students perk up, clamoring and calling to him. 

“Gojo! Is everything okay?” Yuji Itadori, a selfless orphan with reflexes almost as sharp as Satoru’s. Quick to protect anyone and everyone around him. Heart of gold, worn proudly on his sleeve for all to see. 

“Where do you think you’re going? Were you just going to leave us here?” Nobara Kugisaki, a spitfire girl who masked every insecurity with arrogance to rival Satoru’s, though she hadn’t mastered his admirable level of control. 

“What crawled up your ass?” Megumi Fushiguro. You didn’t like to pick favorites, but you couldn’t pretend you didn’t hold a special fondness for him. Unflappable, unshakable. Level-headed and calculating. He reminded you of Satoru the most. Maybe that’s why you liked him best. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know, the gym would collapse without me in it. Get back to work.” There he was, all smooth edges and silken confidence. Like nothing ever happened. To you, he grumbled, “This isn’t over.”

Once upon a time, you’d believed that nothing could get under his skin. In all your years of friendship, you’d never seen him lose his temper until after the incident. Even since, it was a rare occurrence, but you’d quickly learned how to reel him back. You breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Not over, but over for now. 

——————————————————————

One thing you hadn’t put much thought into was telling your parents. They reacted about as you’d expected, though- thrilled to be welcoming their bonus child to the family in an official capacity, “after all these years”. 

“Oh, hime, how wonderful! He’s such a sweet boy. I’ll come dress shopping with you!”

Your heart twinged with guilt. Your mother would be heartbroken when you inevitably divorced a year or two down the road. 

“Maybe we should tell them,” mused Satoru. He tilted his head back to look up from your lap. “What are the chances that they’ll ever talk to my parents? Or tell anyone else? They can keep a secret.”

You shook your head slowly, focused on a point somewhere past where your fingers threaded through his soft hair. “I think they’d be more heartbroken to hear that we aren’t really in love.”

When Satoru didn’t say anything, you looked down at him. He was staring at you with an expression you couldn’t read, eyes darkening to a rich turquoise. He’d reached up to loop his hand loosely around your wrist without you noticing, stroking the sensitive skin over your pulse. Something about the look in his eyes had you suddenly incapable of thinking of anything but his father’s strange statement. 

“I’d expected Satoru, at least, to outgrow it by now.”

You swallowed, hard, scrambling for some way to ask without making everything incredibly awkward. You knew you were just friends. Hearing him say it would settle it once and for all. 

“Right,” Satoru drawled. He sat up, rising from the couch. “Better to tell them marriage just wasn’t what we thought.”

Somehow, somewhere, you’d made a wrong turn in this conversation. You weren’t sure what had happened, but something wasn’t right. You were getting to your feet when Satoru turned in the doorway, smirking with that wild spark in his ridiculously blue eyes. 

“You probably shouldn’t say it to your parents, but you can tell anyone else who asks that I couldn’t keep up with your appetite.” His smile only widened when you tilted your head in confusion. “Sexually.”

Your mouth dropped open on a gasp of his name, blood flooding your cheeks. His laughter was pealing off your hallway walls by the time you thought to throw the cushion in your hands. It bounced harmlessly off the wall, falling lightly to the floor. 

You sprinted down the hallway, raining your fists down on Satoru’s turned back as he laughed, before jumping up and locking one arm around his neck. You used the other to ruffle his hair as he instinctively took hold of your thighs, giving you just enough height to lean over his shoulder and bite the lobe of his ear gently. 

You were the one laughing uncontrollably, now, but you didn’t miss his sharp intake of breath or the way he tensed within your hold. Interesting. You tucked that away with every intention of examining it later. 

“That’s it!” His voice was slightly hoarse as he spun, racing across the hall to your living room. You shrieked as he wheeled this way and that, his strong grip the only thing keeping you secured to his back. He turned and abruptly released his hold on you, sending you tumbling back onto your couch in a cacophony of giggles. 

He turned a smug smile on you. “And with that, no dinner for wifey.”

You let out an indignant squawk, scrambling down the hall after him. Despite his threats, he was spoon-feeding you miso soup within minutes, smiling wide as you stuck out your tongue. 

“I’m not telling anyone that,” you muttered. 

Satoru nodded sagely. “You’re right, can’t go tarnishing my reputation.”

You let out a loud, undignified guffaw of laughter. “Reputation? You?”

Satoru pulled back indignantly. “You think I don’t have a reputation?” You leveled him with your blankest stare, but he stared right back, one eyebrow quirked up. You found yourself crumbling first, suddenly unsure of yourself. “You have a reputation?”

That broke his stoicism. He cracked a wide grin, looking down to stir his dinner. “Nah, just wanted to watch you squirm.” You both smiled, shoving each other playfully from across the table. 

“I’m sure there have been… people though, right?”

Satoru’s head snapped up, eyes almost comically wide in some combination of shock and… nerves?

“What?” he rasped. You caught him with a mouthful of miso – he was probably trying not to choke.

“I mean I’m sure there have been girls, or boys…” you trailed off at the puzzled expression he wore. But now that you’d thought about it, you’d never seen him with anyone, not since high school.

“How did you know I’m bi?”

Not the question you’d been expecting.

“Satoru,” you deadpanned. “Do you remember when you got caught kissing Yoshio Kiyama under the bleachers in sixth grade?”

A faint blush rose in his pale cheeks. “Oh, right.”

“Yeah, genius, I’m the one who found you?” You started laughing, memories of your eleven year-old self bubbling to the surface. “I remember I was so disappointed, but then you asked out Akiko Hoshino for the school dance and I-” You stopped speaking abruptly, horrified at your partial admission, and prayed to the gods that Satoru wouldn’t notice. 

Of course where the gods were concerned, Satoru would always find favor. 

You swore you could see his ears perk up. “Disappointed, huh?”

“I didn’t mean to say that,” you mumbled. 

“Oh no no, you’re not getting out of this one.” He stood, coming around to your side of the table and pulling you up. Then he sat in your chair, dragging you unceremoniously down onto his lap. “Disappointed why?”

You threw your hands up in exasperation, turning your face away. “Because I had a crush on you, Satoru! We were eleven years old and I had a crush and I thought you only liked boys and so I was disappointed that I wouldn’t have a chance with you. But then you asked out Akiko Hoshino, so then I knew that you liked boys and girls.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“And then you pined away for me for the month that I dated Akiko, right?” he crooned, obviously delighted. 

You scoffed, but felt your throat closing slightly. “No, then I got over you.”

Satoru’s jaw dropped. “That fast, huh?”

“Yeah, it was pretty quick.”

He released you in favor of clapping his hands to his heart, head thrown back.

“My darling wife, you wound me so!” he cried. You laughed, tapping your ring finger.

“That’s fiancé to you, I’m not your wife yet.”

He sat back up, grinning. “Soon enough.” His cerulean eyes glittered in a way that sparked something deep inside you, excitement and anticipation lighting in your veins. 

“Two,” he murmured. 

You blinked. “Two what?”

“Two people.” He reached up to smooth a stray hair from your face, a gesture so tender that your breath caught. “One boy, one girl. And now, you.”

“Well, sort of.” You meant to be teasing, but it came out shakier than you meant. What was happening to you?

And there was that unreadable expression, paired with the slightest of smiles. “Yeah, sort of.”

——————————————————————

“I don’t think you’re supposed to get to see the dress.”

Satoru whines from the other end of the phone. “Why nooot? I’m paying for it, aren’t I?”

Despite your mother’s wish to come dress shopping with you, she’d been unable to make the journey. Despite his protests, she couldn’t bear to leave your father alone. He needed her too much after his accident; slow and unsteady on his best days, bedridden on his worst. So you’d settled on FaceTime instead. Now the four of you were on a call together- you, your parents, and Satoru- as you made your way down the busy Tokyo street to your car.

“You know I don’t actually have the dress with me, right?” you said wryly. Satoru’s confused outburst blended with your mother‘s tinkling laughter, tugging at the little girl deep under your skin. You felt your lips curve up in an involuntary smile.

“Patience, bocchan. You’ll see her on your wedding day.”

“That’s so far, though!” whined Satoru.

“It’s only another month, my dear! So eager.” You heard your father chuckling in the background, making some muffled statement about your parents’ traditional, long engagement. Your mother murmured something sweet back to him, but when she spoke into the phone again, her voice was filled with mischief. “Are you sure you’re not pregnant, hime?”

“M-mother!” you sputtered. On the other end, Satoru howled with laughter. All the same, he composed himself much more quickly than you. 

“Okan, no. That would be impossible. I’ve been a perfect gentleman! Besides, we’re not even living together. 

“Oh!” Your mother seemed genuinely surprised. “Well no, I suppose neither of you have said that you are. I see that I simply assumed…”

“Actually, we haven’t discussed the living situation yet.” You leapt on the opportunity to change the subject, still trying to get your breathing under control. For some reason you couldn’t quite pin down, your mother‘s joke had left your heart racing long after the shock should’ve worn off.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make either of you uncomfortable, we’re just so exc-”

You and Satoru cut her off simultaneously, talking over each other to assure her that she hadn’t.

“We’ll just move into your place, right babe?”

You stopped walking. “Satoru, why would we move into my shitty apartment when yours is twice the size?”

“Because your place is so much cozier!” 

Then there was an almighty crash and Satoru began swearing. A moment later, after making his apologies to your mother, he was saying he loved you and hanging up. Your heart raced a bit, even as you giggled with your mother over “his kids”.

As you walked up to your car, you heard your father ask for a glass of water. “Oh, dear, look at the time. I’m sorry my darling, but I need to go. I have to leave now if I want to get to the bank before it closes, and then I have to go to the shops, and then I have to make dinner…”

You smiled to yourself, sliding behind the wheel of your beaten old sedan. “Have a good night, mama. I’ll talk to you soon.”

You turned the key in the ignition and looked at your watch. Satoru’s class would be ending soon. You could spend that time doing errands, washing your car, or even tidying up your apartment. But you felt lazy and lightweight and you hadn’t seen the kids in some time. 

With a smile, you drove to the juice shop you and Satoru liked, ordering the too-sweet strawberry smoothie he loved and something new for yourself to try. After only a second’s hesitation, you picked out an assortment of treats, putting everything on Satoru’s card. Today, for the kids, you’d let him spoil you. 

Arms filled with sweets and smoothies, you managed to get from the shop to your car and your car to The Amanai Project. The gym was housed in a metal and concrete building on the border of one of the poorer neighborhoods in the city. Posters advertising free self-defense classes, public safety seminars, and charity races papered the windows beside a much more understated plaque offering pro bono legal counsel for kids victimized by violent crime.

Every time you came here, you couldn’t squelch the feeling of your heart growing several sizes. You were just trying to decide how best to manage the door when it swung open. Kento Nanami, Satoru’s somewhat business partner and the lawyer offering his services, held it wide and nodded a greeting as you shimmied through. 

“Thanks, Nanami. How are you?”

“I’d be better if I didn’t have to deal with that crazy man,” he grumbled, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “I hear congratulations are in order, though.”

Startled, you felt heat rise to your cheeks. “O-oh, yes, thank you so much!”

He nodded again, turning to step through the doorway, but paused. “You’re good for him, and you’ll be good for each other.” With that, he turned again and left you staring at the swinging door. That was as much a speech as you’d ever heard out of Nanami, but you didn’t have time to digest it. 

Kugisaki shrieked your name, abandoning her training to race across the room to you. Her squeals drew the attention of everyone else in the room, too. Itadori looked up from where he stood patching a hole in the wall, dropping the putty knife he was wielding into a can of spackle, and made to run toward you before Satoru’s sharp voice cut him off. 

“Itadori!”

“Aww, Gojo, I’ll fix it in a second!”

You giggled at the interaction. Clearly, the source of the sound Satoru had hung up for. 

Fushiguro nodded politely at you from his place in the ring, taking advantage of your arrival to gulp down a bottle of water. 

And then there was the man himself, lifting the blindfold he used when he sparred- “to help him hone his senses”. His eyes looked bluer than ever against the black and white contrast of material and hair. He smiled when he saw you, looking surprised but immeasurably pleased. 

Then Kugisaki was shoveling everything out of your arms, extending her hands to grasp yours. “Let’s see this ring!”

At that, Itadori did drop the putty knife, tuning Satoru’s warnings out with admirable success. Even Fushiguro sauntered over, hands tucked into his pockets, to lean down. You locked eyes with Satoru, cheeks warming under the kids’ attention.

Kugisaki and Itadori took turns bouncing on the balls of their feet, shrieking, alternating between hugging you and each other. Fushiguro studied the ring and then turned back to the ring, tossing a genuinely impressed “Nice job, Gojo” over his shoulder. Satoru sidled up to you, snaking an arm around your waist to draw you close enough that he could kiss your cheek. 

He was still smiling at you when Itadori shouted. “Hey Gojo, what was that? You gotta kiss her for real!”

Satoru whirled. “What!?”

“Yeah, kiss her for real!” squealed Kugisaki. She and Itadori swatted at each other in excitement, eyes glued to you and Satoru.

He pointed menacingly at them both. “You little pervs-”

“You can’t shut up about her all day, and now that she’s here you won’t even kiss her?” You laughed at the deadpan stare Fushiguro gave his teacher, highly amused by the entire ordeal.

With a rush of boldness, you grasped Satoru’s collar, turning him to face you, and pulled him down to your mouth. A bolt of electricity shot through you when your lips touched, and if Satoru’s muffled gasp was any indication, he wasn’t unaffected either. The kiss was brief, a slide of lips that was over much too soon, and then you were releasing him. You heard Kugisaki squealing, a loud clap as Itadori and Fushiguro high-fived each other, their thrilled chatter; it all faded to the background as you looked at Satoru.

Eyes half-lidded, color high in his cheeks, he seemed unable to catch his breath. He stood, still bent to your height, staring at your lips. You felt heat rising in your own cheeks, boldness entirely dissipated as you wondered whether you’d crossed some line or other. His tongue darted out to swipe his lips. The tittering in the background was quickly dying. You’d expected Satoru to have some ready quip, to turn and showboat for his students. It was becoming increasingly obvious that you’d have to be the one to act.

Thinking fast, you reached over to the counter where Kugisaki had dumped the haul you’d brought, fumbling a smoothie into Satoru’s frozen hands. You pasted a smile on and patted his cheek, turning to the collection of treats.

“Alright, you hooligans, I brought something for you. Courtesy of Gojo Sensei.” 

The boisterous sounds of teenagers started up just as quickly as they’d stopped, with Itadori and Kugisaki fighting over who got first pick of the sweets. Fushiguro waited patiently for the other two to dispense with their theatrics, picking up a sweet roll with a quiet word of thanks. You waved it off as you raised your smoothie to your lips, flinching when you tasted how overwhelmingly sweet it was. You turned to find Satoru standing behind you, holding out your smoothie. Besides a slight dusting of pink across the tops of his cheeks, he seemed entirely composed again. 

“Sorry,” you murmured, trading cups with him.

He quirked an eyebrow at you as he raised his smoothie to his mouth. Slowly, deliberately, he licked the side of his straw, finally drawing it into his mouth. He took several long swallows, holding your gaze unwaveringly as he did. Something about the action seemed intimate, provocative, and it was heating your insides. What on earth was happening to you?

“Oh, please.” His voice was lower than usual, husky. “Don’t be.”

——————————————————————

For once, you wound up at Satoru’s apartment. He’d walked you to your car, only half a lot away from his, only to find that it wouldn’t start. Why drive across town to your place, only to need a ride back in the morning to meet the tow truck, when you could simply stay the night with him? You had your laptop, there was no reason you couldn’t work from his home office the next day while he was away at family business meetings.

As he unlocked the front door, you tried to remember the last time you’d been here, rather than having him over to your shabby, cramped shoebox. You never could quite put your finger on why, but he loved your place. Cozy, he’d called it. And you guessed it was, in comparison.

He flipped on the light, the sound echoing down the hall, and stepped over the threshold, gesturing for you to step inside. You toed off your shoes, padding through the house to the kitchen. Satoru followed, stripping off his jacket and the blindfold he’d been wearing like a headband.

“I don’t think there’s much in the fridge, but we can order takeout. You remember where the menus are?”

“Of course.” You opened the right-most drawer in the island, withdrawing a stack of takeout menus with a grin.

Satoru grinned right back. “Order whatever you want, pick something good for me. I’m going to take a shower real quick.” You hummed as he dropped his wallet on the counter, thumbing through the worn pages before you.

When Satoru had first moved into this apartment, his mother had hired a maid and a chef. Only the best for her precious son, you thought wryly. Satoru hadn’t been having it. He’d been polite to them, of course, but kept an impeccable house with nothing for the maid to clean, and ordered takeout every night, leaving the chef’s meals untouched in the refrigerator before insisting she take them home herself. When his mother had shown up to scold him, he’d listened patiently to her lecture and then promptly changed the locks. 

You grinned at the memory, but it was short-lived. Your thoughts drifted to the time after he’d come home from the hospital, silent and uninterested in food, keeping a clean house, or anything else. His mother had hired a housekeeper again, insisting that your presence was unnecessary. In spite of her cold words and colder attitude, you’d stuck around, trying to get Satoru to take an interest in… anything.

He’d lost so much weight in those months.

You shook yourself out of your spiraling thoughts. Whatever had prompted him, he’d bought the gym for The Amanai Project, sent the housekeeper home with her next month’s pay, a bouquet of flowers, and his thanks, and changed the locks all in one day.

His mother had been furious.

That thought made you smile, despite yourself.

You heard the shower start, picked a menu at random, and called the number. You ordered enough sushi to feed a small army- an assortment of maki and uramaki rolls, nigiri, sashimi, miso soup, and two servings of deep-fried bananas- and smiled when you opened Satoru’s wallet to a picture of the two of you.

You made a circuit of the apartment while you waited. It looked just like it had the last time you’d been here, neat and bare. You walked into the home office, the only room with any personality, and smied at the photos scattered over the walls and shelves. You and Satoru as children, as teenagers at prom together, beaming together on the day you’d both graduated university; photos of him standing with his parents and grandparents, more serious than you were used to seeing him; and then, another photo, tucked behind several others. You stopped to pick it up.

Satoru, Shoko, and Suguru sat in a line, all beaming at the camera. Satoru’s arm reached around Shoko’s back, hand resting on Suguru’s shoulder. You could hardly see his eyes behind the dark glasses he wore, but you thought his eyes might’ve been on Suguru.

You swallowed back a painful lump in your throat. You’d lied when you said your crush on Satoru had been over quickly. It had lasted well into your teenage years, only abating when you assumed Suguru had taken your place as his best friend. Tall, handsome, charming Suguru with his smooth voice, soft smile, and never putting up with Satoru’s shit. That was until he disappeared, right when Satoru became a shell.

You knew the events were related, but you’d never found the courage to ask. Now, looking at this photo, you wondered what had happened to him. You wondered what had happened to Shoko, too. You knew she and Satoru still spoke from time to time, but they’d been closer before. Jealousy pricked at your heart before you stomped it ruthlessly out.

It had been a silly crush, nothing more. You were best friends. That was everything you wanted, everything you needed, and more than you could say for the other two.

You scolded yourself for being uncharitable, returning the picture frame to its place on the shelf before stalking from the office to Satoru’s bedroom.

The bed was perfectly made, unrumpled and unslept in. You realized with a jolt that the last time you’d been in his bedroom had been during those awful months, two years ago. You scowled lightly, turning back to the living room, and noticed for the first time that the larger couch looked slightly rumpled, with a throw blanket haphazardly hanging from the back- the only item out of place in the whole apartment.

In the bathroom, the tap turned off. You darted out of the bedroom, opting to sit at the kitchen island, watching the city lights from the picture window. It couldn’t have been more than two minutes before you could feel Satoru behind you, even though you hadn’t heard him approach. 

When you turned, he was smiling softly at you. 

“Have you been sleeping on the couch?”

You knew you’d shocked him by the smile he flipped up. “Whaaat? No, of course no-”

“Toru.”

He glares at you, but doesn’t answer. He’s saved by the doorbell, which he bolts to answer. 

You let out a breath, turning to the fridge to get drinks. You pull out two bottles of tea, along with a glass and a container of honey for Satoru. He’s laying out your feast, eyes pointedly on the food. 

You decide not to push the issue. For now. 

“I left some clothes for you in the bathroom,” he says. 

“Thank you,” you hum. “I’ll shower as soon as we’re done here.”

He hums in return, mouth already filled with food, then swallows. “Sorry about the kids,” he says. 

You grin. “Sorry for rocking your world.”

A strange look passes over his features, and when he speaks, you get the feeling that he’s not saying what he had intended to. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re not that good.” The words drip with his customary, good-natured arrogance, complete with the full-blown smirk you’ve only ever seen on him. He winks, making you laugh, but there’s some tiny part of you that’s oddly wounded by this. 

He’s returned his focus to his meal, but then he looks up at you from under his stark, white lashes. His voice is softer, more sincere when he speaks again. 

“We should practice.”

And for a moment, the absurdity of the statement is so intense that you can’t, won’t understand him. 

“Practice what?”

“Kissing.” He says it so calmly, so matter-of-fact, like it’s the most normal thing in the world to say. 

You choke on your tea. 

“We should practice kissing,” you drone back. 

Satoru throws his hands in the air. “Exactly! I’m glad you agree.” When you continue to stare, he chuckles, going back to his food. “I think the gig would be up if something like that happened in front of our wedding guests.” 

And after a moment’s contemplation, you have to admit that he’s right. You hadn’t considered the way you’d appear to onlookers. Years and years of close friendship had you comfortable with each other, in each others’ space, and you knew you’d look genuine to anyone close enough to see you, because your affection for each other was genuine. You and Satoru had always been touchy- leaning on each other or holding hands, arms around each other or brushing when you walked or talked. Physical closeness was natural to you both. 

But kissing each other was not natural, you told yourself. Even as your mind unhelpfully reminded you that it had felt quite natural to lean up and press your lips to his. You blinked away the memory, pasting on a smile to hide your unease at the way your heartbeat sped. 

“Oh yeah, I’d expected a smoother recovery from you,” you teased. “What did the kids have to say about that?”

He grumbled something that sounded distinctly like “lovesick fool”, but when you asked for Satoru to repeat himself, he said “They said it was so cool.”

You giggled. “It’s ‘cause they’ve never seen anyone shut you up.”

He lay a hand against his heart. “It’s because they never believe me when I say the ladies love me. Victory has never tasted so sweet.” You laughed, Satoru smiled, and what little tension had managed to build dissipated. 

You stood to stretch. “I’ll make us breakfast tomorrow if you do the dishes.”

Satoru scoffed. “I have a perfectly good dishwasher, and we both know I’ll be up way before you.”

You stuck your tongue out, earning you a snicker. “I’m going to shower.” Satoru waved you off, stuffing the last of his deep-fried bananas into his mouth as he brushed off his hands. You padded into the bathroom, turned on the faucet, and stripped off your clothes once the door shut behind you. Stepping into the shower, you let the scalding water soothe your muscles as your mind kicked into overdrive. 

Practice kissing Satoru Gojo. Something pooled low in your belly, something hungry and molten.

You knew, logically, that having the friendship with him that you do put you in a position most girls would be wildly envious of. You’d always known that, even if it hadn’t affected you. So why is it affecting you now? 

You knew, logically, that Satoru is insanely attractive. You’d seen it firsthand countless times over the years. Any time you’d go out together, you could feel jealous stares on you, even if Satoru never noticed. It used to make you feel somewhat smug, and somewhat guilty, as though your presence could keep away the girl he was meant to have. You would tease him, shamelessly mocking the fluttering lashes and starry eyes turned his way. So why did you feel so starry-eyed yourself?

You knew, logically, that this was a good and smart plan. His parents would be looking for any sign that this marriage was less than what it seemed, and it was wise to cover your bases. You just had to think about it intellectually. Just had to remember that it was all part of the trick.

Dressing in his boxers and sweats and a shirt two sizes too big, you step into his bedroom to see him reclining on the bed, face flushed and chest heaving, and all wisdom deserts you. 

His eyes are closed. He’s got one muscled arm propped behind his head, while the long fingers of his other hand stroke that damn blindfold thoughtfully. He turns and pierces you with that blue gaze, eyes darker than usual, and inclines his head slightly as he takes in a deep breath. His eyes rake you from head to toe, taking in the way you swim in his clothes. You pad toward the bed, crawling over the expanse of it until you lay next to him, hands laced nervously over your stomach.

He sits up to place the blindfold on the nightstand, then rolls so that he’s hovering over you. “Shall we?” he murmurs. His voice is velvet, soft and rough, and intellectual thought becomes more difficult as you try to remember the last time you kissed anyone before today.

You nod. It feels stiff, and you hope that he doesn’t notice. Hell, of course he notices. You hope that he can’t see why you’re so uptight, and do your best to tuck away your racing thoughts so that you can’t examine them either.

He raises his free hand to brush his knuckles over your cheek, touch so feather-soft that you could’ve almost imagined it. You don’t know which of you moved first, but you’re inexplicably closer to each other now, noses nearly touching. Satoru’s warm, sweet breath ghosts over your lips. His luminescent eyes scan your face, searching for… what? you wonder breathlessly.

It’s an agonizingly long moment in which your traitorous brain chants kisshimkisshimkisshim.

“Relax,” he whispers, and you let out the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

His lips brush yours, lighter than his fingertips on your jaw. Then again, with the barest hint of pressure. You’ve only just begun, but your heart is already pounding. Satoru kisses you a third time and the trick is all but forgotten.

He moves his lips slowly, carefully against yours. You exercise every last ounce of restraint to move as slowly, as carefully as he does. Gentle as this is, your lungs are burning for air by the time he pulls back, only far enough so that you can both gulp down the warm air between you. He shifts so that his body partially covers yours before descending again. This time, in addition to the soft pressure, his tongue slides delicately over your bottom lip. 

Forgetting yourself, you grip the front of his t-shirt, dragging him down so suddenly that he grunts, mouth parting to allow your tongue to explore. You run it along the back of his teeth, the inside of his bottom lip, sliding it against his as he presses into your mouth for his turn.

His tongue is slow, gentle, as he maps the inside of your mouth. The hand that’s not propping him up is on your neck now, thumb across the front of your throat, caressing the flesh there. You begin to lose patience, unable to grasp how unaffected he is by this when you’re so close to abandoning your dignity for more, more, more. 

With as much self-control as you can muster, you slide one hand around his side under his shirt. His breath catches. Your hands must be cold. You use your grip on his shirt and his waist to pull until he loses his balance, body pressed against you for one short, blissful moment. Your eyes shoot open, meeting a roiling ocean as your hips meet and you feel something hard against your inner thigh. Wait, is he…?

He lifts himself so that he hovers over you, body too far away now for you to confirm what you thought you felt. He kisses you several times in quick succession, lighter than before, as he holds himself up over you. You wonder if you’re imagining the quiver in his limbs; you must be.

Then he pulls back with a crazed smile that doesn’t touch his eyes. His cheeks flame and his blown pupils snap with something you don’t have a name for.

“Well that was much better,” he says. Then you blink and he’s up, sitting on the side of the bed for just a second before standing up. He walks out of the room and you’re left reeling, lifting a hand to your swollen lips.

What just happened?

Anxiety is beginning to build before he’s back in the doorway with a glass of water in hand. He hits the lightswitch before coming in, hiding himself from your searching eyes in the gloom, backlit by the lamp in the living room.

“Here,” he says, handing you the glass. You sit up and take it from his hands, draining the whole thing to wash the addictive taste of him out of your mouth enough to concentrate. It hardly works.

He’s halfway across the room before you realize it, and you find panic flooding your chest again.

“Wait!” you call. He stops, turning so that you can just make out his profile in the dark.

You feel tongue-tied. Against your will, you remember the way you felt at eleven, at fourteen, at sixteen, unable to speak or move or breathe around him, so in awe of his presence.

This would be a really, really bad time for those feelings to resurface.

But you can’t seem to stop them.

“What?” You must have been quiet for too long, because his voice is tinged with worry.

You scramble for any coherent thought.

“Where are you going?”

You see him raise a hand to the back of his neck, a nervous gesture startlingly like one the boy from your scrambled thoughts makes.

“The couch. I figured you could sleep in the bed, and I-”

“You should stay,” you cut off. After what had just happened, after knowing what it felt like to kiss him, if you’d put any thought into anything else first, you’d have never gotten the words out. 

But you couldn't think. Not now, not with the taste of him on your tongue. Regardless of your mounting fear and his being the source, you couldn’t bear for him to be away from you. Not now.

Satoru didn’t say anything. He stood frozen, and again, you began to wonder whether some invisible boundary had been crossed.

Maybe this was why friends didn’t kiss each other.

Shame and nerves choked you. You shouldn’t have touched him, shouldn’t have embarrassed him like that. Of course it was natural for his thoughts to wander, it certainly had nothing to do with you. A natural response, nothing mo-

“Okay.”

You let out a breath and the pounding in your ears subsided. He left the room, returning after flipping off the light in the living room, and lowered himself gently into the bed. He stretched out on his back, hands at his sides, and you lowered yourself to the cushions with yours tucked to your chest.

The silence was deafening. You weren’t used to it, banter flowing easily from both sides for all your lives.

You turned abruptly, unable to bear it any longer.

“Toru, what happened? With Suguru? And with Shoko?”

He sucked in a breath from his place across the bed. You worried again, as was becoming too common, that you shouldn’t have spoken. He didn’t speak for so long that you thought he wouldn't answer you, and then you started to worry that he’d call off the whole fake wedding or, worse, your whole friendship.

You’d never asked, too afraid of sending him spiralling off the precipice and losing him entirely. But you were so off-balance from the raging storm of your emotions that you couldn’t stop yourself. 

“Amanai died.”

You counted several beats before speaking. “I know that part,” you said softly. “Suguru was with her when she was shot, right?”

A long pause. “Yeah.”

“And you were outside.”

“Yeah.”

“Satoru, it wasn’t your fault.”

“We were arrogant.” There was self-loathing dripping from the words. “We shouldn't have assumed the estate would be safe ground.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. This had been a mistake. Damn your curiosity, you should never have dredged this up. 

“I wanted… I killed that guy, the shooter.” You’d known, but the jolt that went through you reminded you that he’d never actually said it out loud. Not to you. “And I wanted to kill the whole group of them, that whole family that ordered the execution. Everyone who stood there, applauding that a fifteen year-old girl was dead. And I would have snapped and done it if Suguru hadn’t stopped me.”

Your heart constricted painfully. Suguru had said, but you hadn’t realized it had been so serious. Satoru let out a long sigh. Subconsciously, you reached out to loop your fingers through his. He squeezed gently.

“Remember the week after the funeral, that day I left you here? When Shoko called?” You nodded. You’d handed him the phone when Shoko asked, watching wordlessly as he stalked out, and then sat in his apartment, drowning in terror until he’d walked back through the door, silent as when he’d left. He turned to you now. Even in the dark, you could make out the faint gleam of his eyes. “Sorry for scaring you, back then,” he whispered. You reached your other hand out to lay it on his chest.

He took in another deep breath. “Suguru went out on a job. He was supposed to bring some guy in for questioning.” You waited with bated breath for him to say the words you didn’t want to hear. “He killed him.”

You sat up, peering down through the darkness. “What?”

“He killed him. Told the board that it was self-defense, but Shoko and I knew it wasn’t. He confessed it to her, and she told me.” You sat in stunned silence. This was so much worse than you’d imagined it could be.

“And you?” Satoru said nothing. Dread pricked your spine. “You… you wanted to…”

“I didn’t, though.” He’d tensed, as though he expected you to draw away at any moment. “Shoko had already built a case against him when she called me. She just needed a confession. So I got it. Even if I thought that it wasn’t fair.”

You scooted the tiniest bit closer. “Not fair?”

Satoru looked at you out of the corner of his eye, seeming to consider his next words. “That he found the absolution he denied me.”

You considered that. “Did you ever find it?” you finally asked. “Absolution?”

He seemed to hold his breath. “I think so,” he said softly. You nodded, and for long minutes, you each sat lost in thought under the cover of darkness. Then, when sleep pressed you down, you closed the last distance between you to lay your head on his chest. You felt Satoru start before carefully wrapping an arm around you. And maybe you were already dreaming, but you thought you felt him press a gentle kiss to your temple.

You wondered again if you were dreaming when you woke, warm and comfortable. You blinked yourself awake, squinting at the clock across the room. Too early. You flopped your head back down and then froze when the arm around your waist pulled you back against a feverish body.

Satoru.

You raised your head, blinking at the clock again in disbelief. Satoru was always up at the crack of dawn. 7:45 was not late, but most days he’d already be out and about. Carefully, so as not to wake him, you turned your head. His brilliant white hair flopped over his eyes, making him look vulnerable. Young, so like the little boy you’d said you’d marry all those years ago.

You smiled at the memory and rested your head back on your pillow. You looked at the clock. 7:46. You’d let him sleep until 8:00. You began to snuggle backward and froze.

You could feel Satoru’s length pressed against the curve of your butt. For one, heartstopping moment, you let yourself melt back. Then you were berating yourself. 

He was asleep, nothing more. No man woke up in bed with any girl without a hard-on and it had nothing to do with you.

The moment you broke contact, that arm tightened again, drawing you back more firmly. You muffled a groan, letting your eyes slide shut. 

A really, really bad time for those feelings to resurface again, you thought dryly, heart speeding against your ribcage. You glanced up. 7:47.

You couldn’t lay here like this for thirteen minutes. You’d just have to slide out from his grasp and hope you didn’t wake him.

Just before you moved though, Satoru breathed in deeply. His arms tightened around you again, one hand lowering to your hip to press you back against him. You held your breath as he nuzzled the side of your neck.

“Hey, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep. He curled further around you, molding your body against his. It made you feel weak. “What time is it?”

You turned to the clock again, cheeks burning. “7:48.”

“Shit!” Satoru flew up, making it from the far side of the bed to the bathroom in one fluid motion. The door slammed and you stared at it for a moment before you started to giggle. Well, so much for breakfast.

It’s 7:51 when the bathroom door flies open to reveal Satoru in all his shirtless glory, muscles rippling as he tears through his closet, toothbrush clenched between his teeth. Then it’s back to the bathroom, door not quite shut, and you have to make yourself turn away from the sliver of pale skin you can see through the crack. You hear him spit, then the door swings open again. 7:53. He’s fumbling the last few buttons on his shirt, long legs carrying him to the mirror in the corner.

“Sorry, babe, I have an errand I have to run before the meeting this morning.” He runs a hand through his hair, turning his head side to side, and then spins and walks toward you. “Tow company will be here to pick you up at nine.” He bends down, planting his hands on either side of your shoulders, and kisses you passionately before sprinting out the door. “Call me if they give you any trouble!”

The front door slams, and seven minutes after waking up, the whirlwind that is your best friend storms out the front door. You raise a hand unconsciously to your lips.

What in the world?

By the time you manage to haul yourself out of bed, after an already eventful morning, you’ve convinced yourself that this is simply more practice. Building habits, as it were, so as not to raise suspicion when you inevitably end up out with his family, out with friends.

It makes perfect sense. 

You brush your teeth and get dressed, in the same clothes you wore here yesterday, and open your laptop to get a little work done before the tow company picks you up. Just as Satoru said they would, they ring the bell at nine sharp. You stuff your laptop into your bag, locking the door with your spare key, and follow the driver to his truck. 

You make polite small-talk with the driver- mostly about your crappy car- for the short drive to the tow yard, thanking him as he holds the door open for you. When you turn toward the office, he stops you.

“Oh, miss, I have your key right here.”

He hands you a key that certainly isn’t yours. You look from it to him.

“This isn’t my key.”

The driver scratches the back of his neck, pointing across the lot. “Well, according to Mr. Gojo, it is.”

You turn to see a shiny new coupe with a massive red bow on the hood. You blink at it, then turn back to the driver. “Where’s my car?”

He shifts his weight nervously. “I don’t rightly know, miss. Mr. Gojo called yesterday and said not to worry about it. Said he’d be dropping off a new one- nothing but the best for his fiancée. Came by this morning, handed me the key himself.”

You turn back to the car in stunned silence.

“I can see about getting your old car back, miss…”

“No, thank you.” You turned to smile at the driver. “I can take it up with my fiancé.” 

The driver nodded, shuffling off to the office in the center of the lot at great speed. You walked over to your new ill-gotten vehicle, circling it slowly. This was a huge gift.

You let yourself into the driver’s seat, reveling in the luxury of a vehicle younger than yourself, let alone one of such caliber. Then, calmly, you dialed Satoru’s number.

The phone rang twice, and then he picked up with a joyous “Love of my life!”

You sucked down a breath, and then roared into the phone. “GOJO!”

——————————————————————

The final weeks until the wedding are so busy that you hardly have time to think about the day itself, but they’re a raging success.

You and Satoru go apartment hunting, despite your protests, and end up with a penthouse apartment with an office, a guest room, and more space than you know how to decorate. He hires a moving company to pack your humble, cozy apartment and his sleek one, refusing to hear any protests about keeping your lease.

“Baby, I’ve been trying to get you out of that shithole for years. You really think I’m letting this opportunity pass me by?” You grumble about making rent and he tugs you close with an arm around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “Rent, as if. Consider it repayment for going along with all this.”

You don’t bother pointing out that “all this” was your idea in the first place; you know it would be useless.

Your parents fly in the week of the wedding and insist on taking you and Satoru out for dinner “one last time before the big day” as thanks for Satoru’s generosity in putting them up in “such a lovely hotel”.

You go to your final fitting and your dress is perfect, curving and flowing in all the right places. Your mother cries, and that sets you to crying too. 

Satoru kisses you, more than once. He kisses you first thing every morning when you emerge from his room, kisses you each time you pass each other over the course of the days, kisses you last thing at night before making himself comfortable on the couch. You have to force yourself not to ask him to stay in the bed with you, afraid of what you might do if he agrees.

You have to remind yourself that none of this is real.

Shoko comes to town, determined not to miss the big event despite the space that’s opened up between her and Satoru. Seeing them together, you realize that it probably never opened at all. It’s Suguru’s space; a tiny, infinite rift between them. You can see how bittersweet the reunion is, for both of them, and find yourself hoping that it won’t be the last time they meet. Hoping that they can both heal until they can really be friends again.

You have an incredibly tense dinner with Satoru’s parents, made all the more stressful by the agreement to do everything to sell them on the idea that you’re hopelessly in love with each other. At dinner, you hold hands through every course, constantly looking at each other with syrupy smiles and fluttering lashes. When you retire to the restaurant’s overpriced lounge for drinks, Satoru pulls you down into his lap, holding you firmly in place the entire time. He only has one drink, but he gets noticeably more handsy as the contents of his glass disappear.

You ruffle his hair affectionately, leaning down to whisper in his ear.

Only the fact that his parents are sitting feet away stops you from asking whether there’s something in his pocket, or whether he’s just happy to see you. “Lightweight,” you breathe instead, trying not to move too much lest he notice his body’s reaction and push you away. He giggles, dragging you forward to plant a sloppy kiss on your mouth. You allow yourself to relish the moment, embracing the longing you’ve begun to feel. For his parents’ benefit, you tell yourself. You’re only doing your part to sell the lie.

You can practically feel the steam coming from his mother’s ears.

Standing on Satoru’s balcony the night before the wedding, he levels you with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen from him. “Are you sure about this?”

You think back on the past months, comparing them to all the years before. What had even changed, besides the fact that now, you were friends who sometimes kissed? Who sometimes came dangerously close to feeling each other up? What had changed, besides the fact that now, you were almost certain that you’d never moved past your feelings for him?

You forced yourself to relax and smile. “I’m sure.”

Satoru took your hands in his, turning you to face him. “You’re giving up a lot for me.”

That made you laugh. You looked up, pleased to see the curve of amusement on his lips. “What am I giving up? It’s not like I’d be spending my time with anyone else. Besides, you’ve bought me a beautiful ring, a gorgeous dress, and a brand new car. I think I’m actually gonna come out of this pretty far ahead.”

“Don’t forget the penthouse,” he teased, and your smile dropped to a deadpan.

“Satoru, we’ve discussed the penthouse.” He waved this off. “I’m not keeping it!” you protested.

“Yeah, we’ll see.” He grinned down at you, breeze lifting his hair from his forehead. Without meaning to, you reached up to smooth it back, thumb running over the scar over his eyebrow. He cleared his throat, growing somber. “This time tomorrow, we’re going to be married.”

You let your fingertips drift down his cheek, allowing yourself just one more private moment of weakness before your heart ended up on display tomorrow for everyone to see. Hopefully, everyone but him. You nodded, suddenly at a loss for words. For all his sweetness, you’d seldom seen the tenderness he bent on you in the smile he offered. His eyes were liquid, soft as ever, when he raised your hand to his lips.

“Let’s get some sleep,” he murmured, and you agreed, if only to escape before his attention caused you to crumble.

——————————————————————

The wedding day itself is surreal, and it passes in a blur. You wake in Satoru’s bedroom with a bouquet of roses on the bedside, along with a note in his bold writing.

“To the best friend I’ve ever had, thank you for putting up with my shit and having my back. We both know that I’m a treasure. I only hope you know that you are, too. You deserve the world, and I will lay it at your feet. On this, our wedding day, I alone am the honored one.”

The note is signed with a flourish of his name. You smile as you raise it to your lips, taking in the faint scent of his cologne. You are the honored one on this day. You lay the note next to your bra, fully intent on keeping it close, and then you hit the ground running.

You shower and brush your teeth and after that, it’s out the door to the waiting car to be driven to the vast Gojo estate. Despite spending time here as a child, the place is still incredibly intimidating with its marble arches and sprawling gardens. You feel your heartbeat speed as you see the decorations- fairy lights and tulle, vines and roses, black silk ribbons and eucalyptus branches.

It’s more beautiful than you could have imagined.

You make your way to the guest house and sit through an hour of hair and makeup, laughing with your mother about all the childish shenanigans you and Satoru have gotten up to over the years, and calm your anxious hands and stomach by sampling the hors d’oeuvres arranged prettily on silver platters.

Your father sits in the corner, eyes shining with pride and unshed tears. He’s got a cocktail of painkillers ready to go; nothing will keep him from walking with his little girl today.

You would feel guilty if Satoru weren’t already such a fixture in all of your lives. You only hope that your parents won’t be too hurt when this is all over.

It’s only once your parents step out so that you can change into your gown that Satoru’s mother visits you.

“Tell me, my dear, must we really continue this charade?”

You feel your heart prick with ice. “I assure you, Gojo-sama, that there is no charade,” you lie smoothly. “I love your son.” Just enough honesty to ring true.

Her glare is frozen. “I will give you six million yen if you walk out of here and away from my son.”

You raise your chin in defiance. “No.”

“Seven million.”

“You cannot buy me, no matter the price.”

“Ten million yen.”

Your ire has been steadily rising since she stepped into the room. Now, it eclipses your anxiety like a crashing wave. You lean forward, well into her space, and feel a mean thrill when she leans away from you. Your voice is cold. “I do not care what you think of me. But it’s clear that you have no concept of your son’s worth.” You tilt your head, summoning the haughtiest tone you’ve ever used. “You dishonor him.” His mother reels back, scowling.

“You don’t deserve my son,” she sneers.

You laugh at that. “I agree. Yet somehow, he’s decided otherwise.”

She peers down her nose at you. You expect another round of vitriol, but to your surprise, she turns on her heel to leave. Round one, you.

You blow out your breath, shake your hands, and straighten your shoulders. Within a few minutes, your parents are back and then it’s smooth sailing again. 

Right up until you and your father hobble to the door to walk to the ceremony. 

Your father starts to sniffle. You turn and realize that he’s tearing up, putting on his bravest face and doing his utmost not to blubber. 

“Oh, papa,” you murmur. You turn to take his face in your hands. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, hime.” He reaches a hand up to your face, carefully avoiding your hair and touching lightly so as not to smear your makeup. “I am just so happy. Your mother and I used to talk about what a wonderful life you and Satoru would build together and now it’s finally beginning.”

The shock nearly knocks you off your feet. “You… what?”

He sniffles, patting your cheek and lowering his head to compose himself. “You make an old man proud. There’s no one else I’d rather give you away to.”

You move your mouth, but can’t form any words.

And then, it’s time. The great door creaks open and you tilt your head down to hide your expression. You take a few deep, steadying breaths before raising your head… and promptly losing them.

The lawn is surprisingly empty, though you suppose his parents planned it that way. Regardless, every face fades as you set eyes on Satoru.

Satoru, the best and oldest friend you’ve ever had.

Satoru, who’s always been in your corner, no matter what.

Satoru, who looks devastatingly handsome in black and white, with a boutonniere of one, single rose almost the same color as his eyes. Almost, but not quite. Satoru, whose eyes are wider than ever, staring slack-jawed as you make your way toward him down the aisle, moving slowly for your fathers’ sake. Satoru, whose hands drop from where they’d been fiddling with his cuffs.

Satoru, who looks at you with such longing that you nearly collapse.

Your heart stops, and then sprints to make up for lost time.

This day is going to kill you. 

You know that your face is bearing every emotion, that nothing is hidden in this instant. 

And it’s nothing compared to the way he looks at you.

It’s all an act, you remind yourself. Tears spring to your eyes. All an act, but every person in this room is eating it up. Including you. When did he get so good at acting?

The corner of his lip curls in an awestruck smile and you’re a goner.

Who were you kidding?

You let the tears stream, grateful at least that they would lend authenticity to the performance. And for the first time, you feel your heart sink. 

You’re just as in love with Satoru Gojo now as you had been at eleven years old.

You’d been a fool to think you’d get out of this unscathed.

Over the course of your mental collapse, Satoru’s smile widens until you can just make out the tiny dimples at the corners of his mouth that only ever show themselves when he’s at his happiest.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

You just have to remember that it’s all for show.

You force yourself to smile.

And know instantly that you’ve made a mistake.

You had to be twenty paces or more away, but those dimples disappeared the moment your lips spread.

No one else would ever notice, but you did.

Because no one else would ever notice, but he had.

Those cyan eyes narrowed fractionally and you knew that he could tell that something was off. You could see the anxiety surfacing as you got close.

To feel so seen…

You pursed your lips, just by a hairs’ breadth, and Satoru’s face relaxed. The silent conversation you had in those last few steps did wonders to ease your nerves, and you could tell that it did the same for him. Between one heartbeat and the next, your father was kissing your cheek, placing your hand firmly in Satoru’s outstretched one.

You couldn’t hear a word anyone said- not your father, not the priest, not even Satoru. You blinked rapidly, finally locking eyes with your fiancé.

“Baby? Are you okay?” he whispered, and you could tell from the slight strain in his voice that he was repeating the question.

You squeezed his hands. “I’m okay,” you whispered back. You let yourself fall into your role, embracing the fantasy. You felt nearly giddy. “Let’s get married.”

And oh, there was that smile again, canyon-wide and dimpled just for you. “Let’s.”

You could hardly concentrate enough to repeat your vows, too caught up in the way Satoru’s eyes sparkled, locked onto you. Too mesmerized by the way his mouth moved to truly hear what he said. Before your head could catch up with the feelings speeding through your heart, Satoru was wrapping a strong arm around your waist, pulling you firmly to his chest. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his smile.

“Hi, wifey.” And then he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. You couldn’t stop your hands coming up to cradle his face; couldn’t stop your mad smile when he bent you back nearly parallel to the ground; couldn’t stop the shudder that ran down your spine at the soft moan he let out when you ran your tongue along the seam of his lips. They parted, allowing you to lick along the inside of his lip before you bit down softly.

Only the applause from your guests covered the animalistic growl that tore itself from his throat.

You felt a heady thrill at your apparent power and giggled. After a heated moment and a shaky breath, so did Satoru. He straightened, pulling you up with him, and raised your joined hands overhead for all to see.

Mr. and Mrs. Satoru Gojo.

——————————————————————

For being largely made up of Satoru’s colleagues and the elder Gojo’s business acquaintances, your guests were incredibly gracious. Every person seemed to want to personally convey their best wishes; a happy marriage, good fortunes, continued health. You and Satoru thanked each person in turn, holding hands all the while.

And each time someone new came to express their pleasure, you felt your mind and heart crack just a bit more under the weight of the lie.

“We’re almost done,” he murmured against your ear. You’d finally made your way to the dance floor, taking solace in the security and solitude of Satoru’s arms. You nodded, cheek rubbing against his chest. “You okay?” he asked.

You nodded again. “Just counting down the minutes until we can go home.”

He chuckled, drawing you closer. “Well, tell you what, then. Let me go say goodnight to my parents and then we can leave, okay?” You smiled up at him, grateful.

“That sounds wonderful, husband.”

He grinned at you with a childish sort of glee. “Glad to hear it, wife.” He leaned down, pressed a soft kiss to your lips, and then spun you away from himself. “I’ll meet you by the altar in a few minutes?”

You smiled over your shoulder, turning to survey the crowd. Your parents had left an hour ago with profuse apologies; your father’s medication was wearing off and he was going to need to be off his feet, quickly. You waved and smiled at the few friends of Satoru’s you knew- Kento Nanami, Yu Haibara, Utahime Iori, Kiyotaka Ijichi- and waded through the crowd of celebrating people.

Satoru had asked whether it bothered you that none of your friends had come. The truth was that when life got busy and your friends stopped reaching out, when no one could accept how much time and emotion you put into Satoru after the incident, you’d let most of those friendships slide. Why should you beg for anyone’s attention when the only person whose attention you truly craved centered on you to begin with?

You’d never regretted that conviction, never even questioned it. Not even today.

You made rounds to the tables that gestured you over for long minutes before excusing yourself, breaking for the altar. You were passing an alcove when you heard Shoko’s voice, and you felt yourself perk up. You hadn’t had a chance to thank her for coming, and you wanted to make sure that you didn’t miss the opportunity to talk to her. Even if you didn’t feel the need to have a lot of friends, it would be refreshing to have a girl friend again- and she’d been important to Satoru, once. You wanted to make sure that she knew her presence was more than welcome in your lives.

It was only once you reached the garden wall that you realized she didn’t sound happy.

Then you heard Satoru’s voice.

“I just really don’t understand why you’re making such a big deal out of this!”

“Because, Satoru! I understand that you care for her, but I really think you’re making the biggest mistake of your life!”

“Then let me make it!” Satoru roared, and the words had you breaking out into a cold sweat.

They couldn’t mean…?

He seemed to remember where they were and lowered his voice. “Then let me make it. If it’s such a huge mistake, you’ll be the first to know, alright? I’ll call you myself. ‘Shoko, you were right, I never should have married her.’ Is that what you want to hear?”

Your hands flew to cover your mouth, but they weren’t quick enough to muffle the pained sound that escaped you. You darted to put your back to the bower leading into their little section of the garden, praying to all the gods that you hadn’t been heard. For once, despite Satoru’s involvement, they listened.

Shoko sighed. “No, Satoru, it’s not. I just want you to be happy. I just don’t think you’re-”

You raised your hands to cover your ears and bolted away. You didn’t care how childish it was, you couldn’t bear to hear another word. You ran, heels catching small rocks and roots as you held your breath in an effort not to cry. If the tears fell, your face would puff up and your makeup would be ruined. There would be questions. You couldn’t deal with questions, especially not now.

You tucked yourself into the greenhouse and sucked down mouthfuls of cool air, staring straight at the ceiling. That was supposed to help, wasn’t it?

You couldn’t stay here for too long. You had to get control of yourself, and quickly. You tried desperately to conjure up any happy memories that didn’t involve Satoru and came up woefully short.

Maybe you needed some friends of your own, after all.

You breathed in, held, released. Breathed in, held, released. You repeated this until your hands stopped shaking, and then did it five more times for good measure. You straightened your shoulders. Then you walked back out into the throng. Head held high, smile firmly in place, you strode to the altar, catching sight of Satoru as he stepped out of the shade of a tree and into view.

Your breath caught in your throat. He was so beautiful. He beamed when he saw you, looking a touch deflated, but irritation all but vanished. You knew by the subtle shift of his eyebrows, though, that your own smile wasn’t fooling him.

——————————————————————

The ride back to your new penthouse was blessedly short, and blessedly quiet. With a driver from his parents’ staff, neither of you dared to say a word of meaning, settling on holding hands and whispering to each other about dinner and movies and sleep instead. When the car stopped, Satoru was out in a flash to open your door, handing you out like some Victorian lady. No matter how confused you felt, it made your mouth twitch up in a smile.

He led you through the apartment lobby and into the private elevator to your new home, even holding the door open for the driver following with a cart of wedding gifts. You clutched his hand the whole ride up, gluing yourself to his side even if you couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him. You could feel the worried glances he shot your direction when the driver wasn’t looking, though.

As soon as the elevator door opened, he was sweeping you up into his arms, striding purposefully across the short hall to your front door. You let yourself laugh as he managed to fish the keys out of his pocket without letting you slide so much as an inch, and swooned dramatically as he kicked in the door. He kissed you again and you felt your heart clench painfully. Then he turned to the driver, thanking him for his service and advising that he leave, lest he see something he’d rather not.

You’d never seen someone excuse themselves so quickly.

You both paused once the door clicked shut, waiting for the chime of the elevator, and then Satoru lowered you gently to the floor. You turned quickly, practically running into the living room. You began unfastening your jewelry, anything to keep your hands and eyes busy.

“Sweetheart?” He was worried. You knew better than to try to hide from him, but you’d hoped you could have even a moment longer to collect your thoughts. The drive here hadn’t been nearly long enough. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He was halfway across the room already. You knew that if he touched you, you’d lose your nerve.

“What did Shoko mean by ‘the biggest mistake of your life’?” The words were out before you could think better of them.

Abruptly, his footsteps stopped. The silence was deafening. With shaking hands, you laid your wedding jewelry on the coffee table, steeling yourself for whatever answer Satoru gave you.

You turned to face him and found him looking ashen and sick.

He swallowed hard.

“You heard that?”

Somehow, you’d expected something different. A denial, an indignant retort, even a joke. You scoffed in disbelief, only it didn’t sound much like a scoff. It sounded like a sob.

Satoru took two steps forward before stopping at your raised hand.

“Listen, I can explain.”

“Explain what, Gojo?” A look of profound hurt crossed his face at your use of his family name, but you couldn’t… You had to put some distance between you. You didn’t want to believe that there was any truth to the words, but you knew now that there had to be.

“You didn’t even argue with her! ‘The worst mistake of your life’?” He flinched then, finally breaking eye contact to look across the room past you. You choked on your tears, voice coming out harsh around the growing lump in your throat. “I know you never wanted to be married, but I-I thought I was helping you. I thought you wouldn’t care since it was only temporary. I thought you said this would be fun! You never told me you were having second thoughts!” 

“You’re right, I didn’t,” he said softly. “Shoko thinks I’m making a mistake because… because I’ve been in love with you since we were children.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he was reeling back, breathing ragged as his hands went to his hair, as though maybe he’d never said the words aloud. As though maybe he’d never admitted them to himself. You nearly staggered backward, too. “Please, sweetheart, just let me explain. I swear, I-”

“You’re in love with me?” you whispered. Your heart raced, hope lighting your veins aflame. Tears had been building since the conversation started. They began to run down your cheeks now, and you saw Satoru move as though he was going to come to you, to do anything to make them stop, before forcing himself to stand still. He’d always hated to see you cry.

He clenched his fists. His eyes slid shut, and the pain evident on his face was so great that you flashed, for a moment, to him waking up in that hospital bed; bindings around his wounds and tubing in his arms, oxygen mask on his face, waking so slowly, so grievously wounded that he’d asked you if he was dead.

“I would never,” he began slowly, “have made you stay.” He let that sink in before continuing, so softly that you could barely hear him. “I thought…” His voice trailed off as he sank to his knees, almost as though the words had sapped him of the strength to bear his own weight.

“I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry. I never meant for this to happen. I tried so hard not to feel the way I felt. I know you never felt the same about me.”

Just like that, all of the pieces clicked into place. Every blank expression at every stupid joke or offhanded comment you’d made about your inevitable divorce; every flash of doubt, of disappointment in his eyes when you brought up that it was only a fake marriage; the way he’d answered Shoko, as if it hurt him to say the words; the fury he’d felt toward his parents; even the way he’d detached himself from you when your kisses had been too heated. He’d been afraid.

You began to shake your head.

Shoko thought he was making a mistake because she thought you didn’t love him. 

Because Satoru thought you didn’t love him.

He hadn’t stopped talking while your world crumbled around you.

“I thought that this was it, my chance for a little piece of all my dreams. I thought that I could have you by my side, just for a little while, that I could kiss you just once, and that it could carry me through the rest of my life.”

Your mind was spinning in a thousand directions, including a hysterical amusement. “You kissed me a lot more than once,” you whispered, a near-automated response borne of your shared sense of humor. 

Satoru let out a strangled noise. “I was selfish.” You opened your mouth to protest, to deny it, to say that you didn’t mean it like that- to tell him you loved him. But he barreled on, voice strained. 

“When you said you’d had a crush on me all those years ago, I thought ‘what if I could make her fall in love with me?’ I thought ‘this could be the rest of my life.’ And then you kissed me in the gym, and I knew that I had to try something, anything, everything. I knew that I…” He sucked in a deep breath and let out a breathless, awful, self-loathing laugh. “I thought that I couldn’t survive on just one kiss.”

He hung his head, burying his face in his hands. “Shoko knew the moment that she saw us together that I’d never told you how I felt. She figured it out so fast, I didn’t even get a chance to deny it.”

You’d unconsciously moved closer as he’d spoken. You threaded your fingers lightly through his hair and the air went out of him. He folded forward, hands coming to rest on either side of your feet.

“Please, baby, please forgive me. Shoko was right, it was unfair. It was so unfair to you. I’m so sorry.”

You tilted his head back to look up at you. He let you do it with a sharp intake of breath, gazing up at you with so much feeling that it nearly swept you off your feet.

“Please, sweetheart, say something. Anything,” he pleaded. He’d leaned forward to wrap his hands around the backs of your knees, drawing you closer to him. “Please.”

You had never in your life, ever heard Satoru beg for anything. Your heart galloped in your chest. 

“You weren’t unfair,” you whispered. You opened your mouth to say more, but he was already stuttering out more apologies as if you hadn’t spoken. If he was experiencing anything like the roaring in your ears, he probably hadn’t heard you.

“Please, please, forgive me. I’ll do anything. We can get an annulment tomorrow if you want, to hell with my parents. Just please, let me make it right. I’ll never say another word about this, not one.” He pressed his face further into your thighs, murmuring against the fabric. “I can’t be without you. I would die without you.”

Everything in your chest constricted violently. 

Of course, Satoru had a penchant for wild dramatics, making insane exaggerations out of anything and everything. A papercut was a mortal wound, a stubbed toe a shattered leg; a few degrees too warm and it was the seventh circle of hell, a few degrees too cool and it was the ninth; a runny nose might as well be a terminal illness, and boredom was just as serious.

This was not one of those exaggerations.

You didn’t want to think about a life without him, couldn’t dream of it, not even in your worst nightmares. Separating the two of you from each other was impossible, in any circumstance, in any world.

You knelt down, slotting your legs with Satoru’s, and tugged him forward by his hair. Your breaths mingled in the infinite, infinitesimal space between you, before you kissed him. The groan he let out was that of a wounded animal- pleading, haunted, and full of despair- as his hands rose to your cheeks. You could feel his restraint in the way his hands held you from coming any closer, in the way he barely moved his slack mouth, letting you kiss him. 

“Please,” he whispered again, and you could hear his heart breaking on the word. “Please don’t leave me. You can’t say goodbye to me. Not like this.”

“You idiot,” you whispered. Slowly, between kisses, you murmured, “Don’t you know I’ve been in love with you since the day we met?” Against all odds, Satoru pulled back from you, holding your face away from his between shaking hands. 

“Say it again,” he whispered, voice shot. 

“I’ve been in love with you-” And then, he’s kissing you, and there’s nothing restrained about it, and you realize just how much he must have been holding back when he’d kissed you before.

This isn’t his stunned inaction from the kiss in the gym; not the gentle exploration of your practice kissing, where it should have been obvious that he meant to memorize the way it felt; not the giddy, showy kiss from the altar and certainly not the chaste, PG kisses you’d shared throughout the reception. 

No. This kiss was all-consuming, desperate. Like Satoru meant to devour you, and maybe he did. He lapped at the inside of your lips, moaning softly. His long fingers roved over your body, pulling you closer until you gasped, and even that seemed to be not enough. 

He let out an impatient noise, low in the back of his throat, before dragging you forward and up in one fluid motion. His hands gripped you with near-bruising force, pulling you by your knees to wrap your legs around him, and then your back hit the cool glass wall of your penthouse with a dull thud.

You half gasped, half giggled through Satoru’s apologies, muffled by the incessant slide of his lips on yours. His lean, hard body pressed fully along yours, moving against you almost of its own accord. You could feel the thundering of his heart against your chest. With his hips pinning yours to the wall, he lifted one hand from its place at your waist to grip the back of your neck. 

Your hands finally, after all of the shock and movement of what was probably only the last 20 or so seconds, landed in his hair to tangle in the snowy strands. Satoru keened into your mouth, pressing even harder against you, a vibrating mass of wiry muscle and lanky elegance. You dropped one hand to squeeze at his bicep and wondered how you had ever ignored how hot your best friend was. 

The hand on the back of your neck tightened, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, allowing Satoru to stroke your tongue with his, gentle and searching and urgent all at once. The hand at your waist pulled you relentlessly forward, molding your bodies together, and you squeezed your legs to keep his hips locked against yours.

Satoru was murmuring against your lips, against the sensitive skin of your throat, against the shell of your ear, hot breath lighting your skin on fire where it touched. You caught only snatches of what he was saying, a litany of praise and pleading.

“I love you, I love you, I want you, I need you, stay with me, don’t leave me, let me please you, my wife, my wife, my perfect wife.”

Your head thumped against the wall as you tilted it back, granting him access to leave a trail of sloppy kisses from your mouth to your ear, down your throat to your collarbone, across the sheer material of your wedding gown to bite softly at your shoulder.

“Marry me,” he groaned.

You couldn’t help the airy giggle that bubbled up. “I already did.”

“Marry me for real,” he whined, breathless.

“Yes. Of course, yes.” “Yes,” he hissed, finally shifting away from your poor living room wall with you in his arms. He stumbled down the hallway, drunk on you, toward your marital bedroom, unable to stop kissing you. “I’ve been in love with you for so long that I don’t even know who I am without loving you. If I’m even a person without loving you.”

“I was so afraid that you didn’t love me the way I loved you that I spent years trying to convince myself that I didn’t love you, but I never could,” you confessed, words rushing out, and Satoru let out a sob against your throat.

“I could never not love you,” he groaned. “Never in a million years, not in any life. I have wanted you…”

He bit the sentence off, stumbling as his knees hit the bed. He lowered you reverently to the plush duvet with an arm braced above your head, kisses slowing and softening as he stroked your cheek. “I’ve always wanted to marry you,” he murmured. “I’ve wanted you for so…” He trailed off, trembling as your hands slid up beneath his shirt to trace the lithe muscles of his back, and nuzzled behind your ear. He moaned brokenly. “Tell me if I’m moving too fast,” he whispered. “Tell me if you want to stop.”

You traced your hands down his sides, revelling as he panted in your ear. You raised your knees to stroke his thighs, his hips, before wrapping your legs slowly, deliberately around his slim waist, locking your heels at the small of his back. He took a great, shuddering breath, instinctively bending toward you when you raised your hands to shuck off his tuxedo jacket. Your fingers danced up to unbutton his vest before moving to his shirt, torturously slowly. You forced yourself to take your time, forced yourself not to yank and hope that the buttons would fly off like in some cheesy rom-com.

By the time you finished, you almost worried that Satoru would shake apart above you. He looked absolutely ruined; jaw clenched, eyes squeezed shut, a euphoric pain painted across every feature. You let your eyes rove his beautiful body, tracing scars with sight and touch alike until you reached the waistband of his trousers. All of the breath went out of him in a loud whoosh, and he dropped the hand stroking your face to the mattress to stop himself from crushing you. His eyes snapped open, a brilliant, dark turquoise nearly eclipsed by shimmering black. His mouth hung open, lust and love and disbelief warring as he frantically searched your face.

You crooked a tiny smile at him, and then leaned up until your lips brushed his. “I don’t want to stop.” He whined, surging forward to kiss you, grinding his hips down to yours with delicious pressure. “I think… we’ve waited… long enough,” you panted between kisses.

Oftentimes, Satoru couldn’t shut up. You’d been friends for so long that his incessant chatter ceased to phase you in the slightest. But you’d never heard him talk so much.

Any time his smart mouth wasn’t occupied with you, it was running. He alternated between babbling praise and incoherent adoration and begging you, though for what, you couldn’t be sure, since he was, by his own distraught admissions, getting everything he’d ever wanted, dreamed of, hoped for, waited for. He couldn’t seem to stop, and it stoked your ego in ways you’d never known you’d wanted, never imagined could turn you on so much.

And despite his obvious anguish, despite the delicious agony it took to exert his control, despite fifteen or more years of never daring to hope, or perhaps because of that, he put you first just like he always did, following only once he was satisfied that you had been, too.

——————————————————————

It hadn’t been the wedding night you’d expected- as far from traditional as it was from the plan- but you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world, no matter how it had come about. 

In the watery sunlight, you rolled to face your husband. Husband. He loosened his grip to let you, hand coming to rest on your bare hip as you settled to face him. His eyes bored into yours, sharp and bright as a storm.

“Hey,” you whispered.

“Hey,” he replied, and the low rumble of his voice sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine and straight between your aching thighs.

You reached up, carding your hands through his hair, and marvelled at the way his eyes fluttered closed. He was like putty beneath your touch. He turned to kiss your palm, drawing your hand down to cover his heart. He stared at you intensely.

“Tell me I’m not dreaming,” he murmured.

You raised one eyebrow in amusement. “That’d be some dream.”

“Best dream of my life.” He pulled you flush against him, pressing his lips to yours and sliding his tongue across your teeth, morning breath be damned. “Be better if it never ended.” He kissed from the corner of your mouth across your jaw, to that sensitive spot behind your ear. “Be best if it wasn’t a dream at all.”

You gripped his neck, pulling him closer, drowning in him. “It’s not a dream,” you whispered.

“Thank goodness,” he groaned. He rolled over to pin you to the bed, hands coming up to lace his fingers with yours. “I am so in love with you.” He traced your rings with one finger, lips spreading in a sleepy, adoring smile. “My beautiful wife.”

You giggled, face splitting in an uncontrollable smile, and leaned up to kiss him. “And I am so in love with you.” Another kiss as you stroked his ring in return. “My handsome husband.” And if the curve of his lips against your jaw and the movement of his body against yours was anything to go by, you were about to be shown how in love with you he was all over again.

Yeah, you could get used to this.

[vassalor]

Imagine Wukong with a mortal Nightingale-like healer s/o.

They always want to save injured and dying peoples (regardless of race), sometimes even Wukong enemies whom touched by kindness and reformed after they healed up.

And our Monkey be like

[w2soneshots]

Brother’s best mate -W2S

words: 0.8k+

warnings: smut, swearing, alcohol consumption.

summary: you and harry meet through your brother ethan. After a night spent with the side girls you crawl into bed with your favourite guernsey boy.

notes: I haven’t written anything like this in ages!🤭 hope you enjoy🔥🫶🏼

Liked by wroetoshaw and 301,583 others

y/username: spending time with my favourite people💞 (even if it's on a golf course😒😂)

Tagged: @faithloisak @behzingagram @wroetoshaw

-comments-

faithloisak: aw I love you

-> y/username: ❤️🫶

y/nfanpage21: she's so 🌼🧺☕️🧘‍♀️🥐 coded

user19470245: omg they went to golf together😭

user83271430: the pic of ethan and faith is adorable

Last year I moved to London to be closer to Ethan when Faith fell pregnant, to help her and to spend more time with the both of them. I also bought an apartment so I'm just a 20 minute drive from them. I finally met the sidemen at the gender reveal. I'd never actually been introduced to them before, which was weird because they are basically the reason Ethan has a career and they helped him so much a few years ago when he was in a really dark place. Me and Harry didn't immediately hit it off, don't get me wrong I thought he was attractive but he's also very awkward and was wary that I'm his best mates sister.

After almost five months of being friends with the group, going to little parties or just hanging out with them me and Harry kissed. I knew it was bound to happen since we had both quickly developed a large crush on each other but after it had happened we'd decided not to tell anyone (especially Ethan) before we knew we were actually good together. It took just one month before we were officially dating and decided it was the time to tell everyone. Of course we told Ethan first, he was shocked but (to our surprise) happy that his best mate and sister were dating. Everyone else was so excited.

We've now been together for 6 months and only told the fans recently. Today I'm going to dinner with: Talia, Faith and Freya for Talia's birthday. Harry had a more sidemen shoot today so wouldn't get home until six. I had a shower, dried and styled my hair, applied some makeup then chose an outfit. I was on my way out just as Harry arrived back. "Wow," He glanced down at my outfit before returning his attention to my face "you look beautiful." I smiled "thank you Haz, I'll be home by ten." "You better be, I can't wait to rip those clothes off."

I arrived outside of the restaurant, thanked the uber driver then spotted Talia getting out of another car. I quickly walked towards her "happy birthday!" We excitedly hugged each other. "Thank you! Freya's already inside." She beamed. "Ok. I think Faith's running a little bit late, let's just go inside." I replied. We headed into the fancy restaurant and were taken to our table where Freya already sat. When she spotted us she immediately leapt from her seat. She said happy birthday to Talia then we all sat down. Faith arrived a few minutes later and we ordered our drinks.

After eating our starters, mains and desserts me Freya and Faith split the bill (not before trying to convince Talia to let us treat her for her birthday). Thankfully I had only had two drinks so I was just a little tipsy. We left then ordered a taxi. Freya was dropped off first then Talia and I was third. I said goodbye to Faith then hopped out.

y/username

Liked by miniminter and 480,231 others

y/username: my girl @taliamar 's birthday dinner with @freyanightingale and @faithloisak 🤍💫

-comments-

taliamar: I had the best night ily😘

-> y/username: ily

freyanightingale: 💓💓

y/nfanpage21: omg you look stunning!!

user91037494: I love that the side girls are actually friends irl it's so cute

When I got up to mine and Harry's apartment I unlocked the door, opened it, kicked my shoes off and dropped my bag. "Haz?!" I shouted through the apartment. I walked through into the bedroom, Harry sat waiting patiently for me "Hey." My mouth curved into a smile "hi." I jumped onto the bed next to him. "Have fun?" He asked. "Mhm" I hummed.

I turned to him and pecked his lips. The kiss deepened, he grabbed the back of my thighs and pulled me onto his lap. I reached my hands down to the belt wrapped around my waist, I pulled it off and threw it to the floor. I moved Harry's hands from the back of my thighs to my ass. He groaned into the kiss then rushed to pull the zipper down on my dress, then he pulled it off and over my head, leaving me in just my matching black lace bra and underwear set. Harry broke the kiss to look down at me "you're so fucking beautiful." He rasped. I pulled his shirt over his head, followed by his pyjama pants. While Harry unclipped my bra, allowing the straps to fall from my shoulders.

Within just a few minutes we were both completely naked. Harry flipped me onto my back. I whimpered as I rubbed my thighs together, desperate for any sort of friction. "Harry, please." I cried out. "What do you want baby? Use your words." "I need you to fuck me."

[sinsmockingbird]

I just need Chief to treat Nightingale right. After Chief finding out that Nightingale is in love with her. They gently kiss and make out. Gently making love with Chief just pampering and loving Nightingale.

Chief, Reader, or anyone else would definitely need to treat her right. Nightingale is always so busy dealing with about everything in the MBCC, and that can come with a heavy burden on her shoulders and endless stress. Especially when she has to deal with the Chief specifically getting kidnapped so much, leaving her to run things in their wake.

I bet it's by the fourth or fifth kidnapping, or when Chief comes back from the dead, that Nightingale finally caves in and confesses her love for her. She swore to herself that she'd never say anything, knowing how close you were with numerous other Sinners. But when she finally sees you again after almost working herself to death in your wake, she can't stop herself from kissing Chief.

It leaves the Chief surprised because the kiss is unexpected, but right when she is going to kiss back, Nightingale pulls away. The adjutant is quick to apologize profusely while slipping in her confession. She doesn't shut up until the Chief kisses her again, leaving her all but short circuiting. The kiss is so gentle and tender.

Once they pull away, Chief will whisper an invite to Nightingale to come back to her room, and the woman doesn't hesitate to accept. The sex is gentle and loving as Chief tops, showing her genuine appreciation to her adjutant with every kiss and touch she gives her.

It's safe to say Chief will definitely treat Nightingale right.

[strwbmei]

Adjutant Nightingale is such a sweetheart. I need to *** her until she **** all over my *** and ***** * **** *** **** the bed.

nsfw utc (chief!reader)

So like. Nightingale right?? I imagine it all started with a simple celebration. One too many drinks for the both of you that led to a steamy one night stand; a blissful mistake for Nightingale that she vowed to never repeat again. She won't deny that she's had feelings for you for a while now, but if she ever decides to act on them, it'd be through proper courtship. It's what you deserve, Nightingale thinks.

You don't remember anything, so the two of you decide to continue being co-workers and nothing more. At least, for a while. It didn't take long before you started yearning for her touch. Nightingale has no qualms with denying herself of her desires, but when you ask her with eyes hazed with lust, how can she say no?

You've gone from "just co-workers" to something more. Yet, you can't help but notice that it's always her who does all the work. Of course, you've offered to return the favor many times before, but Nightingale insists that she much prefers giving over receiving. While she isn't lying, that's only because she's never tried it the other way around.

So when you finally convince her to let you eat her out, it's obvious how hard she's trying to stop herself from squirming or closing her thighs. You can't help but find this side of Nightingale absolutely adorable. Who knew that the woman who could fuck you for hours on end could be this sensitive?

The poor girl doesn't even know where to put her hands when she feels herself nearing orgasm. One is gripping the sheets for dear life while the other is covering her mouth. (Honestly, you can still hear her very clearly from how loud she's being, but you don't have the heart to tell her. Plus, it's cute.)

When you feel her legs shake as she cums all over your tongue, you know that you'll have to do this more often <3

[purpleberiii]

You know that little captain fic made me think about starting a family with Nightingale and watching her become a mother. I feel like she'd be such an amazing mom 🥹

Indeed Nightingale would be an amazing mom and though she's strict when it comes to work, I headcannon that she'll be a patient mom and a fun one.

Imagine Captain Reader sitting at her desk doing work when the door barges open and she sees Nightingale holding their little baby in her arms, the baby would be about a few months old and would immediately stretch to go in your arms.

Nightingale always holds her baby gentle and whenever she's at work, she'll have her baby with her, ordering the others around all while checking in on her baby.

Picture Nightingale in a serious mode, interrogating a sinner when her three year old son/daughter interrupts her. "Mommy."

"Not now baby mommy's busy"

"Look what I drew." Nightingale would stop whatever she's doing and take a look at her baby's drawing, smiling brightly.

"That's amazing baby! Good job! Isn't this wonderful?" She held up the picture to the sinner as the sinner nodded quickly, afraid of how quickly her mood changed.

I can also imagine Nightingale and her baby planning on how to distract 'mommy' while she works. Captain Reader would be at her desk, working and then Nightingale would walk through the door and plop down on your lap, her giving you the puppy eyes as well as your baby and in that exact moment, you knew you weren't getting any work done.

Your baby sure do looks like you but has the personality of your wife.

[myoddessy]

out with the old, in with the new | w2s/harry lewis

summary —new accounts, new lifestyle, new clubs every night. an insight into just what—and who—youtube's non-youtuber it girl got up to during her split from harry

*once again following the lead of @whoetoshaw and her bog universe's iconic breakup era ALSO, one of the twitter threads is rlly grainy and I'm sorry abt that, i couldn't properly fix it so you have to just zoom in on it 😭

2023, January

2018, July.

liked by zoeleonards, taliamar, masonmount, and 11, 824 others

yourusername lay all your love on me 🌻🍹☀️

tagged: zoeleonards, chloemitchells

zoeleonards london reality, greece fantasy 💔😞

yourusername ibiza couldn't come sooner!

wroetominter OMGOMG IVE DREAMED ABOUT YOU RETURNING TO SOCIAL MEDIA

ynfan omg shes glowing 🤩🤩

chloemitchells mykonos has never looked better 🤤😍😘

yourusername love u, lover girl 😘😘 ❤️❤️

2018, August.

liked by chloemitchells, tobjizzle, leahwilliamson, and 20,349 others

yourusername snuck behind a dj booth and had a blast, had a few more shots than I should've, fell more in love with my girls. ibiza, you will forever be famous 🍾✨️

zoeleonards it was nice having the hotel room to just myself and Chloe for a bit x 🤣🤭

ynfangirl DOES THIS MEAN THE MASON MOUNT RUMOURS ARE TRUE??

chloemitchells @ynfangirl who's that? never heard of him 🤷‍♀️

ynloverrrr it HAS to be true

freyanightingale beautiful girl ❤️

yourusername ❤️❤️❤️

sidemenfav the way that her, freya, and talia still like each others posts and support each other 💔

liked by yourusername, taliamar, and freyanightingale

ynandharry tobi likes every one of her posts, too. they really are family no matter what 😭

2019, January

liked by pierregasly, zerkaa, mabel, and 30,568 others

yourusername we're able to have semi-classy girls trips, who knew?

tagged: zoeleonards

chloemitchells gutted I couldn't make it, I miss u two beautiful girls 😭❤️

yourusername CHLO!!! it wasn't the same without you, babe xx

zoeleonards I missed placing bets on who y/n was gonna make a move on 💔

yourusername IM NOT THAT BAD ZOË JESUS

chloemitchells yeah, give her some slack... it's usually placing bets on who's gonna make a move on her 😉

ynfanpage queen we need tips on how to live our best lives because you are teaching us all rn

yourusername 1) the only long term relationship you need to focus on is the one with yourself. 2) surround yourself with people you love and support & who will love and support you. 3) learn to not give a fuck what anyone else things because everyone's too busy in their own heads to care ❤️❤️

taliaminterr how is your life so aesthetic?? irl gossip girl vibes!!

yourusername babe trust my life doesn't look like this day to day, I only show the fun bits. rn it's 4am and I've got four day old greasy hair, dried mascara under my eyes (I watched UP without taking off my makeup first), and I'm eating cereal and drinking flat coke zero. I am not the standard you should aim for 😭😭

ynslover I love how open and honest she is about her content. she's actually such a good role model

liked by taliamar, freyanightingale, chloemitchells, and 19,519 others

yourusername apparently people think the party life in my photo dumps is my day-to-day? babes, if I can teach any of you one thing in life, it's that half the shit you see online is fake. half the 'candid' moments are staged, same goes for almost every picture you see. so here's a little dump of my actual reality

zoeleonards yeah guys she's actually so messy it's insane. it makes me want to move out

yourusername SHUT IT. zoë has about three different vases of dead flowers in her room because she forgets to take them out.

zoeleonards that's nothing on the old cups in your room

yourusername BLOCKING U

ynslover how does it feel to be the most relatable influencer ever even though you're not an influencer?

taliamar omg you've still got the vinyls!!

yourusername ofc, babe! I needed something to remember our days of charity shop hopping

2023, January