PART 1 - the first & second times
WC - 1.6k
SYN - No love story ever began with, “Once upon a one-night-stand.”
CW - [18+!] afab!reader but no gendered terms are used, reader and Otoya are both implied to be a little promiscuous, dubcon (only because of alcohol, both parties enthusiastically consent), alcohol use, fingering, oral (f receiving), light anal play, spit fetish
SERIES MASTERLIST — NEXT
the first time
You both still smell like the club: sweat, the faint bite of cigarettes, and a mix of your go-to fragrance and his. It mingles in the air like your tongues in each other’s mouths. Becomes acquainted like his palms with the soft skin beneath your skirt.
The two of you were quick about it, spurred on by a splash of alcohol and an overflow of attraction. He was the ideal ratio of chill to shameless flirt, and you had fuck-me eyes and a pretty mouth. It was a perfect alignment of intentions.
There’s not much talking, just heavy breaths and the sticky sweet sound of lips and tongues in the darkness of your apartment. You’re wrapped up in the feel of each other, all eager and greedy and hot. He blindly backs you into a wall corner and you gasp. “Shit, sorry,” he breathes, cradling the back of your head in apology, “Bedroom?”
You know he’s going to fuck you good by the way he looks when he’s climbing onto the edge of your bed and pulling his shirt over his head. By the way he emerges from the cotton and has a dark, hungry playfulness in his eyes. He’s a good kisser (even if it is messy in the way drunken one-night-stands often are) and he has the confidence to hike one of your legs up high and roll his hips into you. Once, twice, again, again as he licks into your mouth and along the side of your neck. Chasing the heat and friction, reveling in your unabashed moaning.
He knows what he’s doing. You can tell by his demeanor that he’s done it plenty of times. He asks you how you want it then gives it to you like someone who knew how to give it to you from the start.
In return, you voice all your needs without a hint of shyness. With the confidence of someone who’s as experienced as he is. You’re nasty about it, too. A little demanding. (Fuck me. Harder. Touch me, right here. Like that— oh my god. Hear how wet you made me? Don’t stop. Fuck, don’t stop.) It makes him lose his mind, just a little bit.
After you’re both left panting and satisfied, the fantasy wringed from your bodies and the condom tied off and thrown out, you begin the careful dance of getting him the fuck out of your apartment and he falls into step with you. Another unspoken understanding between you, that you’re on the same page.
As you’re walking him to the door he holds his hand out for your phone and inserts his contact information (you’re grateful that he enters his name because you don’t entirely remember it) then immediately calls himself. “That was fun,” he says with a hint of a smile, “I’ll text you.”
You don’t expect to hear from him ever again.
the second time
You hear from him a week later, to your surprise.
It’s surprising not only because he bothered to text you at all, but because he does it so soon. It’s also not the typical middle-of-the-night text. It’s like 5pm, the sun barely dipping into the center of the sky.
You’re sober now, and more than a little grateful that he’s still good-looking. Very good-looking. Even better looking in the warm light of dusk, shirtless and hovered over you as he rubs your pussy through your shorts.
He’s taking his time exploring you — far different from the first time you fucked, which was all raw tension and release. Every bit of you is hot and primed by the time he pulls your shorts to the side and dips his finger in.
“Already so wet,” he notes, playful in that flat way of his. You make a comment about how he’s been teasing you, which he ignores in favor of teasing you some more. His fingers explore where you’re wettest, getting all coated while avoiding your clit long enough to make your hips cant up, then he brings them to his mouth to taste.
He knows exactly what he’s doing; this move always works. But, to his surprise, you don’t become bashful at all. You don’t avert your eyes or call it embarrassing. Instead, your entire expression darkens. The sight of him savoring the taste of you acts like a flame to kindling, only emboldening you further.
Wrapping your hand around his wrist, you guide his fingers to your lips next. You hold his gaze, take them deep and suck. He can feel the back of your throat, the tip of your tongue, the dull skim of teeth. So warm and slippery around his fingers. Otoya breaks eye contact to watch your lips drag around them, and his jaw goes a little slack at the sight.
There’s a sort of inherent game being played in the early days of fucking someone new — one you enjoy above all else. It’s a playful exchange of power, a push and pull, a gentle testing of boundaries in search of the things that drive the other crazy.
A love for fucking is what you’d say you and Otoya have in common, but really it’s this. Playing this game, this exploratory back-and-forth as you’re trying to get the one-up on each other. That one, decisive move has given you the advantage in this game. And that makes both of you very excited.
Still, Otoya keeps his cool. Remains patient. He rubs your clit and kisses your neck and chest until you’re tangling your hand up in his hair. Sucks on the sensitive skin of your stomach and thighs until you’re opening your legs wide for him to settle between.
“Can I eat you out?” He asks, punctuating with another messy kiss to your inner thigh. “I’ll make it good for you.”
Implying that, first and foremost, it’s going to be good for him. You realize this with a warm rush of arousal.
You respond by shimmying out of your shorts, giving him a nice view of your pussy between your closed thighs as you fold your knees up and pull them off, then opening wide for him again. Glistening wet, and on full display.
His patience leaves him in one deep, heavy breath.
He uses his whole mouth, all warm and wet and rhythmic, a shameless make out session with your cunt that surprises you as much as it melts you down to the bone. It’s a slippery mess in no time, him drooling generously all over you and you leaking more arousal in return. He’s really enjoying this, you think, like he could do nothing but this and still leave satisfied.
And he’s good at it. Really fucking good.
Otoya massages your clit with his tongue, closes his lips around it to swirl and suck lightly, then starts the process over again. Methodical, practiced. All while he watches you, gauging your reactions with lidded eyes. What he’s learned is that you like grinding yourself on his flattened tongue, and you love watching him spit on it. He wants to know what else you like, find out what else makes your body respond like that. Experimentally, he dips down low and licks all the way back up, pushes your legs back into the mattress then dips down even lower— your eyes roll back.
Bingo.
“You like a tongue in your ass?”
You smile lazily down at him. “Is that a crime?”
“No,” his teeth graze lightly over the space between your thigh and the fat of your ass, a testament to how hungry he is for it, “‘s hot as fuck.”
You breathe out a curse as you watch him collect saliva in his mouth and spit it down onto you. It’s warm and slippery when it hits your pussy, followed by the sensation of liquid dripping low. He catches it with his tongue. You shudder.
He’s forward about eating your ass in a way that makes your resolve crumble. It’s the kind of thing that a lot of men pretend to be into, but aren’t actually nasty enough to go through with. Their desire doesn’t run deep enough to get a little dirty. But this guy — this nonchalant pretty boy you happened to take home from the club once — has his face buried between your legs like it’s the most honest thing he can do.
Running your hands through his hair, you gently grind yourself against his tongue – feel it dip past the tightness of your hole. It’s too much, hearing him groan and watching his pretty green eyes roll up. Every part of you is pulled so taut it’s aching.
“Please,” you whine in spite of yourself, dragging the word out pathetically.
“Please what?” There’s just enough smugness in his voice to make your stomach twist with need.
“Need your mouth back on my clit. And your fingers inside me. Please, Otoya.”
His face comes back into view. The lower half is glistening, messy. He runs a finger down your slit, turns his palm up and pushes in, then promptly adds another. You’re so wet there’s no resistance. You’re so wound-up you could cry.
He lowers his face back down, wrapping his free arm around your thigh to pull you close. So close you can feel his hot breath caress right where you need him. His fingers aren’t particularly thick, but they’re long and skilled enough to induce that pleasurable full feeling. Watching intently, he pumps them steadily deeper until your whole body is arching and flexing with tension.
He makes you wait just long enough to hear you breathe in, readying another whine. Then just before he gives you his tongue again, he tells you, inflated ego making his eyes sharp and his voice teasing:
“When you cum, call me Eita.”
PAIRING : Sasuke Uchiha x GN!Reader
GENRE : hurt / comfort
WORD COUNT : 4.7k
SUMMARY : Since childhood, you were Sasuke’s quiet confidant—the one who never chased him, yet never left. When he chose revenge over the village, you were left with only memories and a lingering hope. Now, years later, fate has reunited you. As old wounds heal and emotions resurface, Sasuke is torn between the life he once wanted and the connection he can’t ignore. Will he finally let someone in, or is his heart too hardened by the past?
CONTENT / WARNINGS : emotional themes, grief trauma, abandonment issues, mild angst, slow-burn, heartfelt apologies, character growth, confession, no "y/n” mentioned
SONG : Sweater Weather - The Neighbourhood
Your friendship with Sasuke began in a way that was unspoken, almost inevitable. You both belonged to prominent families, but there was no pressure to “be close” or to constantly seek each other’s company. The bond felt natural—two kids who understood each other’s silence, especially after Sasuke’s life changed forever.
After the Uchiha massacre, Sasuke withdrew from almost everyone, but you kept your distance in a way that felt respectful. You didn’t try to force conversations with him the way others did, and he seemed to appreciate that. You’d sit beside him sometimes in the academy, both of you content to let the quiet settle around you. When you did speak, it was about small things, or questions that didn’t pressure him. Occasionally, you’d ask, “Are you doing okay?” or, “Anything on your mind?” He rarely answered with more than a nod or shrug, but there was a weight in his eyes, as if he wanted to say something he didn’t know how to.
Once in a while, after classes ended or during breaks, you’d train together. Sasuke’s determination was fierce, as if each session was a step toward avenging his clan. He hardly talked about his family, but you noticed the way his expression changed, focused and almost haunted. And when he sat beside you to catch his breath, you’d make an effort to bring some lightness, whether through a quiet observation or a small joke. Sometimes he’d respond with the faintest of smirks, a rare sight that only a handful of people had seen. You might not have broken down his walls, but he trusted you enough to let you be there. That, in itself, was something you cherished.
—
As time went on, and as other classmates like Sakura and Ino developed crushes on Sasuke, your bond with him stayed steady, untainted by infatuation. While others would compete for his attention, you shared a camaraderie that didn’t need grand gestures. It was in the small moments: the shared glances across the classroom, or the way he’d wait an extra second after a sparring match, silently making sure you were okay before nodding and walking away.
Sasuke, in his own way, came to cherish this friendship too, though he’d never say it. He appreciated that you didn’t press for answers, nor did you treat him like a prize. Instead, you were just there, steady and patient, giving him the respect he couldn’t find in others.
When he was placed in Team Seven, and you were assigned to another team, things changed. Yet, there was still that comfort in knowing you’d both be around the village, even if on separate missions. Occasionally, your teams would cross paths on joint assignments, and while he remained his usual reserved self, you noticed a small change in him when he spoke to you. Sasuke would look at you a bit longer, and his tone softened just slightly in a way that wasn’t there with Naruto or Sakura. He wouldn’t admit it, but your presence grounded him, giving him a fleeting sense of normalcy that no one else could provide.
On one particularly difficult mission, your teams had been caught in an ambush. You saw a rare flash of worry in his eyes when you were hit, even though he quickly masked it with his usual stoic demeanor. Later, as the teams rested and regrouped, he’d walked over to where you sat, silently offering a water canteen before looking out into the distance, as if pretending the exchange had never happened. But in that gesture, in that rare flicker of concern, you saw that he cared—even if he didn’t fully understand why.
The day he decided to leave, he sought you out—not under the cloak of night as he would with the others, but in broad daylight. Something about your friendship made him want to give you a proper farewell, even if he wasn’t sure what that farewell should look like. The two of you walked to a quiet part of the village, a place where you’d once trained together as kids.
There was a heaviness in the air, a feeling that you couldn’t quite place. Sasuke’s gaze was distant, but something in his expression seemed conflicted, almost vulnerable.
“Next time we see each other…if that ever happens…” he started, his voice trailing off. The words hung in the air, filling you with a sense of unease.
“What do you mean?” you asked, your heart sinking as you searched his face for answers.
He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he looked down, an almost guilty expression crossing his face before he straightened, hiding it with a mask of determination. “You’ve always been…someone I trust,” he said, his voice almost inaudible, as if admitting it to himself for the first time.
Before you could ask him what he meant, he reached out, his hand lingering near yours for a moment. His fingers brushed against your wrist, a gesture so small yet filled with a weight you couldn’t understand. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.
You opened your mouth to speak, to ask him to stay, but something stopped you. You knew that he had made up his mind. And so, instead, you simply nodded, swallowing the words you wanted to say. “Take care, Sasuke,” you replied, your voice barely holding steady.
He gave you one last look, something like regret flickering in his eyes, before he turned and walked away. You watched him go, realizing only after he’d disappeared from sight that this was his way of saying goodbye.
Later that night, as you replayed his words and his expression over and over, the truth sank in. Sasuke was leaving the village, leaving you—and it hurt. Yet, a small part of you felt honored to be the only one he’d said goodbye to. It was as if he’d left a piece of himself with you, a promise that, no matter how far he went, you’d always hold a place in his life.
You didn’t know how long it would take, or if he’d ever return, but you decided then and there that you’d wait. You’d wait for him, believing that, someday, he’d come back. And until that day, you’d carry his trust like a quiet vow, a reminder of the bond you shared that transcended words.
—
Three years had passed since that quiet farewell, and you’d held onto the memory of it. You didn’t know if you’d ever see him again, but a part of you had always kept hope alive, silently believing he’d return. Then, as fate would have it, during a mission with several of the Konoha 11 to locate Sasuke after his fight with Itachi, you saw him again.
It was a mere glimpse—Sasuke standing there, exhausted but resolute, his form silhouetted against the fading light. Your eyes locked, and time seemed to stop. There was no exchange of words, only a quiet, intense gaze that held unspoken emotions neither of you fully understood. The years of silence fell away, leaving only the remnants of an old, unbroken bond. Sasuke didn’t smile, didn’t offer any sign, but in that moment, something deep inside him stirred—a flicker of familiarity and comfort he hadn’t felt in years.
And as you met his gaze, you felt the same. You didn’t know why, but seeing him there, alive, felt like a missing piece of yourself had returned, even if only for a moment.
—
During the war, Sasuke had seen you again. And this time, he saw a different side of you. Where once you’d been quiet and patient, a steady presence in his life, you now carried a fierceness that impressed him deeply. He watched you fight with skill and determination, handling challenges with calm resilience that rivaled his own. There was something about your confidence, your unyielding spirit in the face of danger, that drew his attention more than he’d admit.
He’d thought of you as the person who’d always been there, waiting in silence, yet now he saw you as so much more. A subtle respect had grown within him, and while he’d never voice it aloud, a part of him admired your strength, your growth, and the way you’d found your own place in the world, even without him.
In his mind, he couldn’t help but acknowledge it: You’ve become incredible…in ways I never expected.
—
It was after the war, after everything had finally ended, that you saw him again. He’d just come from the hospital, signs of fatigue in his features, but his gaze was clearer than you’d ever seen it. The two of you met by chance outside, and there was a moment of silent recognition as he nodded toward the path beside you, a quiet invitation.
You walked together in the growing twilight, the orange hues of the sunset casting long shadows around you as the last light dipped below the horizon. It was a familiar quietness, like so many moments from years ago, but this time, the air was charged with something heavier, something unresolved.
Finally, Sasuke stopped, looking away as he took a slow, measured breath. “I…,” he began, his voice rough, uncertain. “I owe you an apology.” He looked down at his hands, almost as if searching for the right words, his expression unreadable but tense.
You stayed silent, letting him gather his thoughts. He was never one to speak easily, especially about matters so close to the heart, and you knew he needed the space to work through this on his own.
“I was…cold,” he continued after a moment. His voice softened slightly, as if the admission took him by surprise. “Back then, I never… I never tried to explain myself. To anyone. Especially not to you.”
There was a brief pause, and he looked away, frustration crossing his face. “I don’t know how to say this,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. Then, after a moment, he turned his gaze toward you, his expression uncharacteristically vulnerable. “But I knew you were different. I knew I could…count on you. And I still left.”
Your chest tightened, emotions flooding in at the sound of his words. “Sasuke,” you whispered, unsure if you wanted him to continue or stop altogether.
He held up a hand, his gaze intense as he looked at you fully. “Let me finish,” he said, his tone gentler but still firm. “I’ve been thinking…about all of it. About how much you put up with. All the times you tried to help me, tried to understand me, and I never gave you a real answer.”
You could see the faintest hint of guilt in his eyes, a weight he’d carried, even if he didn’t fully understand why. “When I left,” he continued slowly, “I told myself it was for revenge, that nothing else mattered. But that last day, when I saw you…” He trailed off, searching your face as if looking for understanding. “It felt…wrong. Leaving you behind. I couldn’t explain it, not then. But it bothered me.”
You swallowed, feeling the lump in your throat. “Then why did you leave without a real goodbye?” you asked softly, your voice wavering.
Sasuke’s gaze dropped, his expression unreadable. “I thought…if I said more, if I tried to explain myself, I’d be too weak to actually go,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “And I thought I had to be strong, to cut all ties. But it wasn’t that simple. You were the only one I said goodbye to. And even then, it…haunted me.”
For a moment, the silence stretched between you, filled with years of unspoken words. You could see the conflict in his expression, the way he struggled to put his emotions into words. “I didn’t realize how much I’d hurt you by leaving,” he continued, his voice almost a whisper. “And now, I know…I can’t change what I did. But I needed to say I’m sorry.”
Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his words, at the raw honesty you’d never seen from him before. “I was hurt, yes,” you admitted, fighting back tears. “I didn’t understand why you had to go, or why you couldn’t trust me enough to tell me. But I knew you had reasons. And despite everything, I forgave you long ago.”
He looked at you, surprise flickering in his eyes. “You forgave me?”
You nodded, a small, bittersweet smile crossing your face. “I figured, if I kept holding onto the hurt, it would only make things worse. And…I believed in you, Sasuke. Even if you didn’t say it, I felt like you cared. That was enough.”
He seemed to struggle with your words, almost uncomfortable with the weight of your forgiveness. “You always were too understanding,” he murmured, a hint of self-deprecation in his tone.
“And you were always too stubborn,” you countered gently, a soft laugh breaking the tension. “But that’s who you are.”
A faint, almost reluctant smile tugged at his lips. He looked away, as if the emotions were too much to bear. “I never…expected you to wait. For me to come back,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
You stepped closer, looking up at him, catching the brief flicker of uncertainty in his gaze. “It’s alright. You’re here now.”
Sasuke let out a quiet breath, his gaze softening. “Thank you,” he said, the words simple yet filled with meaning. It was as if, in that small phrase, he was saying everything he couldn’t put into words—the regret, the gratitude, the unspoken connection that had kept you tied to each other all these years.
As Sasuke turned to leave, the weight of his promise lingered in the air. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the village. You felt a renewed sense of hope, knowing that the bond you shared was stronger than ever, despite the trials you had both faced. And with that, a new beginning opened between you—a chance to rebuild not just your friendship but the trust and bond that had endured through years of silence and separation.
—
As the sun rose over Konoha, you found yourself at the training grounds, practicing your techniques. The rhythmic sound of your feet hitting the ground echoed through the quiet morning. You focused, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Sasuke. The lingering memory of his apology had stirred something within you, a warmth that urged you to hope for more.
“Focus,” a familiar voice called out, snapping you from your reverie. You turned to see Sasuke approaching, his brow furrowed in concentration as he watched you. “Your stance is off.”
You grinned, feeling a rush of happiness at the sight of him. “Thanks for the tip, Sensei,” you teased lightly, adjusting your stance. He rolled his eyes, but a hint of a smile ghosted across his lips, reminding you of the boy you had known long ago.
As you trained together, the air buzzed with unspoken comfort. Occasionally, he would offer you pointers, his tone serious yet softening with every exchange. Each shared glance held unspoken understanding, a reminder of the bond you were slowly rebuilding.
—
One evening, you found a quiet spot near the river, the gentle sound of flowing water providing a calming backdrop. You both sat on the grass, enjoying the peace that surrounded you. The sunset cast a golden hue across the landscape, and you couldn’t help but feel content.
“Do you remember the first time we came here?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence. Sasuke glanced at you, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in a faint smile.
“Yeah,” he replied, his voice thoughtful. “You fell in the water trying to catch a frog.”
You laughed, the memory bringing warmth to your chest. “I was determined! But you helped me out,” you reminded him.
“Because you wouldn’t stop whining,” he shot back, but there was a hint of fondness in his tone. The two of you reminisced about old memories, the laughter bridging the gaps between the past and the present.
—
After a long day of training, you decided to share a meal. You prepared a simple dinner, and when Sasuke arrived, you laid out the food on a small table outside. The night air was cool, and fireflies danced around you as you both dug in.
“This isn’t bad,” he remarked after taking a bite, surprising you with his praise. You raised an eyebrow, unable to suppress a smile.
“Just ‘not bad’? I thought I could impress you,” you teased, leaning back in your chair. Sasuke glanced at you, a flicker of amusement in his eyes.
“Impressing me isn’t easy,” he replied, but there was a lightness to his words now, a softness that made your heart race.
As you both enjoyed the meal, the atmosphere was filled with easy conversation, laughter, and the comfort of companionship. It felt natural, as if the years apart had only strengthened the connection between you.
—
One night, after a particularly exhausting day, you both lay on the grass outside the village, gazing up at the stars. The sky was clear, and you pointed out constellations, your excitement palpable.
“Look, that’s the Big Dipper!” you exclaimed, tracing its outline with your finger. Sasuke turned his head slightly, a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes.
“Do you really believe in that stuff?” he asked, a hint of skepticism in his voice.
“Why not? It’s nice to think there’s something bigger out there,” you replied, glancing at him. He was silent for a moment, contemplating your words.
“Maybe,” he finally said, his tone thoughtful. “But I think…what’s important is right here.” He motioned between the two of you, and the weight of his words settled warmly in your chest. It was a small moment, yet it held the promise of something deeper.
—
As the day approached for Sasuke to leave on his next mission, the mood between you grew heavier. You both knew it was part of his duty, part of who he was, but the thought of him being away again made your heart ache.
“Be careful,” you urged, your voice softer than usual as you stood at the village gate. He met your gaze, the intensity of his dark eyes making you feel like he was searching for something.
“I will,” he promised, and for a moment, you felt a sense of peace.
“Just…don’t take too long this time,” you added, trying to keep your tone light despite the lump in your throat. Sasuke paused, and in that moment, you saw the flicker of a smile.
“Next time we meet,” he said slowly, his voice steady, “I’ll make sure to have a better goodbye.” And with that, he left, and you knew that this time, you would be waiting.
With each encounter, the distance that once defined your relationship faded, replaced by a deepening connection that felt both familiar and new. As time passed, you both embraced the changes, finding solace in each other’s presence, which slowly turned from friendship into something more.
The journey had been long, marked by pain and loss, but now, as you walked alongside Sasuke once again, the path ahead felt promising. The bond you shared was evolving, hinting at the possibility of love, quietly waiting to be acknowledged.
—
As the weeks turned into months and the months quickly into a year, the bond between you and Sasuke continued to deepen. The unspoken tension between you lingered like an electric current, and every shared laugh, every moment spent in each other’s company seemed to ignite something new in your hearts. Yet, while the connection felt undeniable, neither of you had taken the leap to acknowledge the shift. Sasuke, in particular, struggled with the burgeoning feelings that swirled within him.
Sitting outside on a warm summer evening, you both watched the sun dip below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The air was still, and for a moment, it felt as though time had stopped. You turned to look at Sasuke, who was staring intently at the sky, his face illuminated by the fading light.
“What are you thinking about?” you asked, breaking the silence. He shifted slightly, glancing at you with an expression that was both contemplative and guarded.
“Just… how everything has changed,” he replied, his voice low. “It feels different now.”
You nodded, your heart fluttering at the possibility of him meaning more than just the sunset. “Yeah, it really does. We’ve come a long way.”
He didn’t respond immediately, and you could sense that he was grappling with something deeper, something he wasn’t quite ready to voice. Sasuke had always been more comfortable with action than words, and you respected that, even as you wished he could share more of what was on his mind.
As the stars began to twinkle overhead, you lay back on the grass, watching the constellations appear one by one. “Do you remember the stories we used to tell each other about the stars?” you asked, your voice soft and reminiscent.
He chuckled softly, the sound warming your heart. “I remember you always had some elaborate story about them.”
“Of course! They were all very important,” you teased, sitting up to face him. “And you always pretended not to care, but I know you did.”
Sasuke looked at you, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Maybe I did,” he admitted, his gaze softening. “You just… have a way of making things seem more interesting.”
That comment made your heart skip. You smiled back, feeling a rush of warmth at the sincerity in his eyes. “Well, I’m glad I could entertain you.”
As the moments passed, you both fell into a comfortable silence. But the quiet between you was filled with an unspoken understanding, and that was when it struck Sasuke.
Days later, Sasuke found himself deep in thought as he trained alone in the woods outside Konoha. Each punch and kick felt more powerful, fueled by a growing sense of determination. But as the sweat dripped down his brow and he paused to catch his breath, it hit him like a jolt of electricity.
He loved you.
The realization was startling, yet it made perfect sense. You had always been there for him, through his darkness and his pain. You never pushed him to be someone he wasn’t; instead, you patiently allowed him to be himself, to feel the way he felt, and to heal at his own pace. While he had spent years isolating himself, you were the one person who saw through his walls and accepted him as he was.
And it wasn’t just about your patience; it was the way you challenged him. You made him think, you brought laughter into his life, and you shared your dreams and fears with him, fostering a connection that felt both intimate and genuine. You had never demanded anything from him, yet your presence was a light in the shadows that surrounded him.
As he stood there, a countless of emotions flooded him—fear, joy, and a fierce longing to express what he felt. But there was also anxiety; what if you didn’t feel the same way? The thought of losing the friendship that meant so much to him was almost unbearable.
A week passed since Sasuke’s revelation, and he knew he could no longer keep his feelings to himself. The next evening, he invited you to meet him by the river—the same spot where you had shared so many laughs and memories. He arrived early, his heart racing with anticipation and dread.
When you approached, the sun was beginning to set, casting a golden glow on the water’s surface. You smiled brightly at him, and for a moment, he forgot his nerves.
“Hey! You’re early!” you exclaimed, settling beside him on the bank.
“Yeah, I wanted to make sure I had some time to think,” he replied, his voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside.
“Thinking about what?” you asked, tilting your head curiously.
He took a deep breath, preparing himself for what was to come. “About us,” he said, his tone serious.
Your eyes widened slightly, and he could see the intrigue mixed with concern in your expression. “Us?”
“Yes.” He hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. About everything—about what we’ve been through and how much you mean to me.”
You shifted slightly closer, your heart racing at the intensity of his gaze. “Sasuke, what are you trying to say?”
He paused, gathering his thoughts, the weight of his feelings pressing down on him. “You’ve always been there for me. Even when I pushed everyone away, you never gave up on me. You let me be who I am, without judgment or expectation. And… I don’t think I ever truly expressed how much that means to me.”
His words hung in the air, and you watched him, your breath caught in your throat. The sincerity in his eyes was palpable, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest. “I… I appreciate that, Sasuke. I really do.”
He swallowed hard, his resolve strengthening as he continued. “But it’s more than that. Being with you, talking with you, training together—it’s brought me a sense of peace I didn’t know I needed. And I’ve realized… I love you.”
Silence fell between you, the weight of his confession settling like a blanket over the two of you. Your heart raced, and you felt a mixture of shock and elation.
“You love me?” you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.
Sasuke nodded, his expression earnest. “I do. I’ve tried to ignore it, but it’s become impossible. I don’t want to hide how I feel anymore.”
Tears pricked your eyes, not out of sadness, but joy. “Sasuke, I love you too!” you exclaimed, unable to contain the happiness that bubbled inside you. “I’ve felt this way for so long, but I never knew if you felt the same.”
A rare smile broke across his face, and the tension that had been coiled in his shoulders eased. “You really do?”
“Of course!” You reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “You’re my best friend. I’ve always cared for you, but it’s grown into something deeper, something beautiful.”
The moment felt surreal as you both sat there, fingers laced together, hearts racing in synchrony. Sasuke’s grip tightened around your hand, a warmth radiating from his touch that sent shivers down your spine.
“Then let’s not waste any more time,” he said, his voice soft yet resolute. “I want to be with you—fully, completely.”
You nodded, a wide smile spreading across your face. “I want that too.”
He leaned closer, and you could see the uncertainty in his eyes, a vulnerability that was rare for him. “Can I… kiss you?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper.
“Yes,” you breathed, your heart racing as he leaned in. His lips brushed against yours, tentative at first, before deepening the kiss. It was sweet, filled with all the unspoken words and emotions that had built up between you over the years. Time seemed to stand still as you both melted into each other, the world around you fading away.
When you finally pulled apart, you felt breathless, a sense of joy flooding your heart. Sasuke smiled softly, and for the first time, you saw a glimpse of the warmth that lay beneath his typically stoic exterior.
“Wow,” he murmured, his cheeks slightly flushed. “That was… nice.”
You laughed, the sound light and full of happiness. “Nice? That’s all you’ve got?”
“I mean, it was more than nice,” he corrected himself, his gaze intense. “It was everything.”
As the sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the horizon in shades of purple and gold, you sat together, hands intertwined, feeling an overwhelming sense of contentment. The future felt bright, filled with possibilities and adventures yet to come.
Sasuke glanced at you, his expression softening. “I know I’m not great with words, but I want you to know I’m here for you. I’ll always protect you.”
You squeezed his hand, a smile dancing on your lips. “And I’ll be here for you too, no matter what. Together.”
The two of you shared another kiss, the warmth of your connection solidifying the bond that had been formed through trials and time. With every moment spent together, you knew you would navigate whatever came next, hand in hand.
note : If you liked it, I’d appreciate it if you could please leave a like and reblog. ᥫ᭡
req: ( @rainn-zy ) Have a nice day Moona! Could I ask for a scenario where Itachi and fem reader have their first time in the dark, and then wake up together seeing each other without their clothes on?( I think this is kind of NFSW and SFW?) Anyway, thanks for your attention! Maybe I'm confused or misspelled, English is not my language Beijoos!🇧🇷🍡 (dangos because Itachi likes it)
this is 4.5k long so separate post for my own sanity. also, I went insane while writing this bc I was trying SO hard to convey the cluelessness and the awkwardness of a first time whilst trying to keep it sweet. pls sedate me ❤️.
warnings: NSFW, minors do not fucking interact. fem!reader, loss of virginity (for both), explicit consent, you guide itachi on how to touch your pussy ig, creampie, itachi doesn't last rip him king you tried, you still come tho don't worry, overstimulation (itachi receiving), he activates sharingan. everything under cut!
•••
itachi is a man who's praised and prized for his knowledge, for his capability. he can read his enemies' every move, predict every twist of a battle, every outcome of a plan– always two, three steps ahead.
but here and now, all of that has no use– not when you are on his lap, pressing slow yet deep kisses on his lips that send shivers down his spine. not when you are tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling him even closer, raking every nerve ending of his alight with want, need.
for the first time in his life, this man doesn't know.
he doesn't know what to do, where to touch, how to touch you. he's clueless, and it's neverwrecking, because you are one of the most valuable things in his life– he wants to lavish you with nothing more than the best he can, make you feel nothing but comfort, love, happiness.
and he's been doing a great job of making you happy, of being a good, caring boyfriend. but he's never been a lover before.
the room is dim lit, lights out except for whatever surface the moonlight grazes. and he likes it like this, he likes knowing you can't fully make out his face– how his eyes are a little bit wider from want and his brows scrunched in worry, anxiety.
he wonders if you like it though, would you rather see him? be seen by him?
he parts the kiss but his lips still linger on yours, still a breath away as his thumb caress your cheek. it trembles, you notice.
"I can lit some candles if you'd like," he sounds hesitant and shy even as he tries not to, and for some reason it flusters you.
knowing that itachi, so reliable, caring and capable itachi, is as nervous and clueless about this as you is so very comforting. knowing you're the reason he's this vulnerable also stirs a heat inside of you.
"it's ok," you whisper, trying not to sound as breathless as you feel– what with you devouring his lips and taking every huff of breath from both of your lungs, "I prefer it like this... if you don't mind."
he struggles to hold back a sigh of relief. you just took 50 pounds of worry in weight off his whole body. he relaxes at that, lips faintly tugging at the corners. you can feel the whisper of his smile as he press the kiss to your forehead, chaste and assuring.
itachi doesn't push closer, he doesn't make the next move even though you can feel he wants to, if the slight bulge brushing your thigh is anything to go by. anticipation buzzes in the air and you cut through by entangling your fingers in his hair, it's a gentle gesture, unlike the eager way you pull him in to take his lips in another searing kiss.
his body shivers. your hands are on him, unsure and shaky but still tugging at his clothes, and your lips kiss every thought away from his brain– he can only feel you, smell and touch you.
it's intoxicating how you manage to erase every coherent thought in his head like this, so easily, and it's embarrassing how he's already straining in his pants when his clothes are barely off and you've both barely grazed each other.
you gasp lowly against his lips when he accidentally presses his hips against your thigh and you feel it. your brain short circuits for a second. is that...? that's his dick, right? and he's... hard, he's aroused for you and the realization of it makes your chest heave and you clench around nothing.
it almost unsettles you how wet you're getting so quickly, your panties cling to your skin and nipples are perky and craving for any attention– you need him to pinch them, wrap his pretty lips around and lick, bite them.
"I'm sorry," your mind is foggy with desire, you barely register the strangled apology. but you do register the way he tugs your lips up and leans a bit further away from you and you frown, placing a hand on his cheek.
itachi bites his lip, freezing in place. he's so so glad the lights are off because he's sure he'd die if you could see him now– red with embarrassment and shame. he failed you, he was trying so hard to keep his hips away from you, to hide his embarrassing boner and now he ruined it, right? surely you're nervous like him and this probably made it worse, he should be moving slower, he should–.
he gulps, "I didn't mean–," to hump myself on you like a depraved idiot, he tries to say but clearly struggles.
you interrupt the mess that is his train of thought,
"It's fine," the assurance in your timid voice makes his stomach flutter– from desire, sure, but also adoration. it's like itachi cannot breath without being reminded each second how much he loves you– why he fell for you. "I don't mind, I–" you swallow the lump in your throat but it doesn't make your neck feel any lighter, voice still strained with both anxiety and desire, "I don't mind if you touch me."
you both just need confirmation, just need to know you're both ok with this, that you want this.
and itachi forgets how to breath in that second, because he pants as he leans closer, "are you sure?" there's a pang of desperation in his rushed voice that you've never heard before– makes your stomach leap and the spot between your legs tighten with need.
your fingers curl on whatever flesh they can grip, blunt nails scraping his skin "please."
is desperation too what he finds when he kisses you– plush lips molding over yours, moving in a way that makes you eager for more– proved by how the second he licks at their seam, they part swiftly.
he devours you then and the intesity of his kisses makes you arch into him, a moan escaping and immediately muffled by him. you feel his grip on your hips, firm and tight as it pulls them down against his; the contact makes you whimper, you can feel him now fully– even through layers of clothes you feel the heat and how hard it is against your covered pussy. you can't help but grind into him as you break the kiss, moaning his name.
itachi curses low under his breath, warm breath fanning over you lips as he feels you dragging your clothed core over his bulge– makes every nerve in his body tingle and cock pulse with want.
you feel a weight at the middle of your body and a shiver skims down your spine when you spot his fingers curling around the fabric of the sash keeping your yukata secure. you feel his eyes on you and your hands wrap around his nape, fingers digging into his scalp as you pull his face to yours.
the kiss is much slower than the heated make out you were both having, but it's just as passionate– every movement of your lips sends a pulse down his stomach, and it's all the confirmation he needs to tug the sash away.
itachi parts your yukata with reverence– his breath is held as he guides the fabric down your shoulders, elbows, until it's completely off your skin and pooling at his lap.
his hands are shaking because he can clearly make the shape of your breasts and the faint shape of your nipples– they're perky and hard, aroused and craving attention.
he swallows hard, finger itching to touch and mouth salivating. he's never been this aroused before in his life, it's hard to think knowing you're almost completely bare on his lap, and wanting him just as much as he does you.
"can I–," he takes a sharp breath, trying to steady his voice, "can I touch you?"
your breath hitches and you bite your lip to restrain a low moan, "please do."
his hand, big and firm cups your breast and your eyes fall shut, thighs instinctively trying to clench, stopped by his hips. you can feel your clit throb when he experimentally runs a thumb over your hardened nipple, a broken moan falling from your lips.
"does that feel good?" he asks, hesitant. if the room wasn't this dim, you'd probably chuckle at how his brows are pinched in concentration, his attention completely focused on how he is touching you. he can feel the peeble skin of your stiff nipple and his cock throbs at your sweet moan.
"yes," you manage to breath out, "can you... can you rub it?" you sound almost shy as you ask, and it's cute, he thinks.
he runs his tumb once again over your nipple, this time rolling it around digit and body shudders, "like this?" you moan another yes and itachi groans in response.
his lips run down your neck, brushinv past your collarbones and your stomach flutters the second you feel it on your breasts. he presses kiss after kiss, all the while gently rubbing you perked nipple and squeezing your tit.
but it's when his lips finally wraps around the other one that your stomach tightens with need– you moan his name and your nails dig in his scalp, pushing his head on your chest as you feel his tongue give tentative lick on the perked little bud.
itachi downright moans against your chest when your hips once again start slowly grinding against his and on instinct of taking a sharp breath, he sucks your nipple into his mouth.
your head is thrown back and you whimper in pleasure. you're so wet you can feel your panties clinging to your pussy lips, he's driving you mad and if he doesn't touch you there, you feel like you'll die.
you grab his free, the one that's not deliciously toying with your nipple, and take it to the place rught between your thighs. you press his fingers to the waistband of your panties and you'd be so embarrassed of doing this moments ago, but right now, it only arouses you more.
"can you... c-can you touch me here too?" you ask hesitantly. you're not sure how far he wants to take it.
he has to clench his jaw to stop the most indecent moan from coming out his lips. he can feel the precum right as it leaks out of his tip.
he swallows hard, lips pressed on your skin to keep himself sane as he speaks, "could you... teach me how?"
you nod frantically, almost sobbing before you realize he can see it. you whisper a small "yeah" before you guide his fingers under the waistband of your panties.
his breath hitches and this time he can't stop the moan that hisses out when you press his fingers to your bare cunt.
he can feel you, on the very tip of his fingers– how your damp folds part around them, the delicious heat that immediately pours off you and onto his fingers, and how fucking wet you are.
itachi is worried at this point he might come in his pants at just the feel of you like this– dripping down his and your own fingers as you coax him to skim over your folds, to feel your lips and trace your little hole.
"you're killing me, darling." he whimpers, jaw clenched as he tries so hard to grasp to his sanity while rubbing your cunt.
his chest feel heavy and he can't stop thinking about how wet and hot you are, and how tiny your hole felt. how could he possibly fit his cock inside you?
you shudder on top of him as your fingers lead his higher and you feel tears brim in your eyes when he finally he grazes your clit with the pad of finger; the faint touch makes your thighs clench around his hips, makes you whimper his name and grind against his hand.
your fingers curl on his hair to pull him closer, an anchor, while you try to process what you just felt– his sickeningly sweet heat at the very pit of your stomach that teased a fire even bigger. you were panting in anticipation, in disbelief of how much your body seemed to crave for him to stroke your clit again, rub it until that fire melted out of you.
"there," you plead in a breathless moan, "please touch me there."
and itachi is nothing if not a man devoted to you. even if his fingers are clumsy and touch still tentative, he presses them to that swollen little nub that has you singing moan after broken moan for him, and gets your thighs closing around his hips. he can feel it pulse under his digit and he thinks you feel even wetter than before as you sob his name.
he sucks your nipple back into his mouth and go back to rub the other at the same pace he rubs you little clit, and the coil in the pit of your stomach is almost unberable as you sob. you can feel it, so very close to snapping and in desperation, you grip his hand, tugginv it away from you.
your whole body stiffens in disappointment, but you bite the frustrated moan back.
itachi's face falls, lips bitten in worry as he gently takes his hand away from you and your underwear. "did I hurt you?" there's worry in his voice and you gasp, realizing how that might have looked through his eyes– he thinks he fucked up, that his touch is wasn't wanted.
you try to regain your breath, but your voice still sound unsteady as you hurry to speak, "no, no. it's nothing like that I just–" you swallow hard, already feeling the heat prickling at your cheeks even before you utter the next words. "I... I was close," you admit, voice small and a little bit shy as you press your face against his shoulder– as if he could see you, as if the room wasn't so dark and you didn't need to hide. but you needed the comfort, the closeness.
you find it hard to say the next part, words stuttering even inside your brain.
itachi sounds a bit confused, yet gentle anyway as he leans clsoer to you, a kiss pressed to the side of your neck, "and is that a bad thing?"
you whimper, curling a little bit in shame before you swallow it. "no..."
"but?" he coaxes, pressing another kiss to your hair.
"but I wanted to come with you inside me," you finally rasp out, words rushing out of your mind before you can regret or stutter on them. "if you want that too, I mean," you complete, you don't want to pressure him.
you're completely unaware of how his cock throbs inside his pants at your words, how his tip is leaking for you and how hard he is.
a hand sneaks to your chin then, lifting it up. he grazes his fingers, still damp and coated with your slick, on your bottom lip, coaxing it to part slightly– whether it is from the delicate pressure or from the immediate surprise of him using the fingers he was just rubbing your pussy with, he's not sure, and it truly doesn't matter when it gets a low moan from you. they feel cooler now, but the heat they felt is seared in his mind.
he's panting as he whisper right against your lips, "are you sure that's what you want?"
you could cry then– cry from how considerate he is, and cry from how this fire doesn't stop aching and how much you needed him while not even being able to voice it fully.
"I need you inside me so bad it hurts, itachi," you whimper, feeling the tears slowly blurring your vision as your pussy clenches around nothing, "I want this."
you might as well have ripped the breath out of his lungs by the way he's panting. he offers whatever is left of it to you nonetheless in a kiss, searing and intense, as he pulls you up and on your feet to quickly get rid of his own clothes.
you hear the fumbling as you kiss him, and you part it only to tug your own panties down. you fluster at the way you can feel your slick clinging to it as you finally get rid of the soaked material.
itachi is quick to pull you back on his lap. a shiver licks down your spine when you feel his cock brush against your inner thigh– his skin is hot and hard where it touched you, and you whimper in need.
"I've heard it might hurt in your first time," it takes you second to comprehend what he's talking about, too dazed by your arousal and how close you are to finally feeling him inside you, "please," he cups you cheek and the tender kiss he presses to your nose makes your heart leap, "let me know if I need to stop. I don't want to make you feel pain," his whispered words felt so intimate and assuring, like a warm blanket placed around your shoulders. you think you'll never be able to stop loving this man, and how much he cares for you.
you cup his cheek in return, thumb caressing the patch of skin over his cheekbones, "I will," you whisper to him before taking his lips in another kiss.
the kiss is deep this time, slower and more calculated. he wants to feel every skim of your lips on his, every graze of your tongue. his fingers curl around his cock and he hisses, he's so sensitive the touch almost burns, balls tightening and his breath grows ragged as he guides his leaking tip towards your pussy.
it takes some trial and error before he finally feels your wetness on his skin. you both moan as he slowly parts your dripping folds with the tip of cock. your nails dig in his skin and your hips buck when it accidentally grazes your clit.
you can easily otice he's struggling to find your entrance, you're just as eager as him, just as sensitive and the process almost feels like a teasing torture.
itachi's eyes close shut and a strangled moan falls from his lips when he feels your hand wrap around his, you fingers brush slightly against the his cock and he almost loses it.
you're tugging at his grip, guiding his hand until his cocktip catches on your tight and dripping hole. you moan his name, pleading him to put it in and itachi feels his stomach tightening.
he presses his the head of his cock inside you, feeling your little hole slowly giving in, spreading around him. he hears you panting, feels your body tense for a second before relaxing. your jaw is clenched and you're holding onto him for dear life as he slowly guides your hips down and coax your pussy to take him– he feels so big, you feel your walls stretchinv around him, and ache not painful but unfamiliar, that still the breath in your lungs.
"you're ok?" you don't even notice he stopped moving. even while sitting completely still inside you, his cock presses against your walls to firmly, still spread your tight hole so much.
you take a second to respond, trying to put scattered words together in your hazed brain at the same pace you regain your breath, "yeah," you manage to say, "please keep going."
itachi hesisates for just a second before gradually descends your hips onto his. you both whimper in pleasure and restraint the second your hips finally meet.
you're filled to the hilt, tight pussy squeezing around his cock as it tries to assimilate the thick cock pushing against its every nerve ending. your boyfriend, on the other hand, never thought paradise could be this cruel. you feel amazing, so fucking tight around his cock, he can feel your slick dripping down his balls and at this point he's not sure if it's your cunt clenching around him or his cock pulsing inside you. it all feels good, too good– he won't fucking last.
his balls are tightening in pleasure and the tip of his cock aches and ebbs small but thick beads of precum inside you. you plead him to move and his stomach feels taut, the moment he pulls you hips up and then guides it back down on him he knows he's gone– your pussy drags so smoothly around his cock, even as tight as you're gripping him, you're so wet that he could easily hold you still and thrust hard into you until you're a moaning mess.
if he wasn't on the brink of cumming inside you already, that is. he whimpers your name, almost sobs it when he drags your pussy up his cock once again, "I'm not gonna last," the confession is pulled out him in a strangled moan.
you can feel him pulse inside your tight walls, and you moan lowly, "it's ok. you come," your voice sound so sweet, like a siren singing against his ear, "I want to feel it."
and itachi is gone the moment those words leave your lips– he manages to buck his hips twice more into your tight cunt before his cock throbs and his cum spills deep inside you. the warmth is overwhelming, much like the feel of his tip spurting that much cum inside you. your whole body shudders, and you could almost cum too from how his cock pulses in your pussy as he orgasms, how he moans your name like something holy and how hard itachi is gripping you.
but you don't, your clit still ches in desire and your pussy still squeezes around him, trying to chase the same release.
his head falls against your shoulder as he comes down from his high.
"I'm sorry," it's almost inaudible with the way he's gasping for air, but you can still make out his apologies between his desperate catch of breath, "I– I didn't mean to... you– you felt so good."
you whimper, eyes stinging with tears– you're so sensitive and it feels like you're so very close and so far of the edge. even his words are enough to make your clit throb.
he hisses when your pussy tightens around his spent cock, he can feel your desperation– you cling to him, sob into his neck and to grind your hips against his to get any sort of friction, but his iron grip frustrates every attempt.
he coos at you, heart tightening in his chest– he hates to see you suffer. he presses his lips against your cheek, soothing you, "I know, darling, I'm sorry. it hurts doesn't it? I'll make it up to you, my love," he whispers to you, trying his best to ignore how your pussy keeps gripping his sensitive cock, in order to fully focus on you.
"can you be still for me, angel? I'll make you come, I promise," he will do it even if takes all night and day, but he won't be able to focus if you keep trying to grind your hips against his.
he hears you sob against neck before nodding, a muffled "please," uttered against his skin.
one of his hands leave your hips and he's so grateful when you keep them still, even when he knows how hard it must be for you. he rewards you instantly by pressing his thumb against your clit– and just how you teached him, he rubs it, this time applying enough pressure to cause your eyes to roll to the back of your skull.
your toes curl and itachi slides his free hand all the way to the back of your head and gently tug at your hair, coaxing you lean back, and you do, without a second thought. you're almost laying back as he leans forward, and before you can even think, his lips are wrapped tightly around your nipple, his teeth grazing at the stiff nub as he sucks on it.
the moan that rips out of you is broken and desperate– his thumb is merciless rubbing your swollen clit and the added stimulation to your nipples makes tears run down your eyes. it feels so good.
your pussy is clamping down on him, he can feel you're close even before the moan breaks from you, it makes his cock ache from rhe oversensitivity and yet, he doesn't pull out.
it's his punishment, he thinks– for denying you of pleasure for this long, for getting his before you could get yours. and yet, even as you cunt flutters frantically around his extremely sensitive cock, he can't help but find the overstimulating sensation, his punishment, sweet, especially as he feels yours and his slick dripping down his balls as you finally cum.
he's well aware the dark is meant to keep you both from feeling too overwhelmed by each other's gaze, and perhaps he is cheating when his black pupils dilate into deep bright red, glowing faintly in the dark night. he is cheating as he see you perfectly, eyes closed and every micro expression tiwsted into pleasure– but can he be blamed for wanting to commit it to memory, for craving to engrave you to his memory, just like this, in this beautiful and mindnumbing glory as you come apart for him?
no, no he can't.
his lips brush featherlight kisses onto your skin, from chest all the way to your cheek.
much like you, he's still catching his breath- low pants and gasps fanning across your cheek when he leans closer.
you can also hear it in his voice, the strain of it, the quick intakes of air and yet, there's still remnants of that hunger when asks in hushed breath, "more?"
•••
he wakes up to the nuzzle of your nose against his neck. he chuckles, hands rubbing against your bare back.
"good morning," you whisper against his skin and a small shiver runs through his skin.
he smiles, eyes opening to a room fully lit by the morning sun, and he gazes down at you, "good morning, my love," you lean back to catch his eyes and the tenderness in them makes your heart flutter in your chest.
your head tilts a bit in confusion when his eyes drop down your frame and he immediately averts his gaze, cheeks tainted red. you follow his gaze and immediately feel your own heatening too.
the sheets covering your bare frame had fallen aside, exposing your chest and stomach, probably when you moved back to stare at him.
"oh," you bite your lip, not sure what to say or if you should cover yourself. would he understand it wrongly if you did? would he prefer it? you're about to reach for the fabric when his fingers wrap around your own, effectively stopping you.
he cleans his throat, but he still cannot keep your gaze, and you're sure you've never seen itachi this red before in your life, but the way he speaks to you is genuine, and ends alll your worries on the spot, "you are beautiful."
feat. Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto ᯓ★ What's wrong with your boyfriends killing a random sleazebag here and there? You just like to indulge in the celebration that comes after.
warnings! : NSFW 18+, college au, exhibitionism, breast play, fingering, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, male masturbation, oral sex (m and f receiving), creampie, cum eating, blood play, knife play, murder (not of reader), fucking over a dead body, everyone getting bricked up over murder
ᯓ★ kinktober m.list || read on ao3
The familiar hands of your boyfriend find themselves around your waist, swaying to the beat of whatever techno song plays as drunk college students stumble along to the bass vibrating across the walls.
“Got a present for you upstairs.”
Gojo’s lips ghost the shell of your ear, nipping at it teasingly as you throw your head back into the crook of his neck.
“Oh?” He presses his front up against your backside. You can feel the way his cock strains in his pants as he subtly grinds up against you.
Gojo trails kisses down your neck and you shiver. “Come on, babe. Suguru’s getting a little impatient. You know how he is.” His hands move down to grab at your ass, motioning you along in the frat house, up the stairs to one of the rooms at the end of the hall.
The metallic, iron-like smell of blood fills the air as you open the door, making you halt in place. In front of you stands your other boyfriend Geto, dressed in an all-too-familiar black robe and holding a bloody knife.
His head lifts up as he hears you two come in. He sets the knife onto a desk and stalks across the room, grabbing you from Gojo’s hold and bringing you in for a passionate kiss. You moan into Geto’s lips, digging your fingers into his long black tresses.
“What’s this from?” you ask hesitantly when you pull apart from him.
Before either one of your boyfriends can answer you, a broken moan sounds from the other side of the room, as though below the bed.
Geto takes your hand, guiding you to the source of the noise.
You gasp and take a step back, falling into his chest as you’re greeted with the sight of a bloodied man, writhing across the floor. Through his light colored shirt you can see multiple stab wounds, courtesy of Geto. The man coughs, and blood spurts out of his mouth, covering his neck and chest.
Gojo then pipes up, throwing an arm around Geto’s shoulder and jerking his head to the man. “Recognize him?”
You can’t seem to place who this is at first. But then when you look past all of the blood, you’re able to place why he seems so familiar. Just an hour or two ago, when you first arrived with Gojo and Geto at this party, this guy was in the kitchen with all the alcohol. When you went to get some for yourself, he groped your ass, something you complained about to your boyfriends later on.
The guy coughs again, and it sounds like a gargle. He clutches his side, a feeble attempt to stop the bleeding coming out of multiple wounds.
“Help me,” he moans, blood dribbling from the sides of his lips.
It’s a gross sight, really, and you sneer at the sight of him. No way in hell were you helping someone like him. Especially if it would be your boyfriends that you would hypothetically be up against.
You narrow your eyes, turning and walking away from him. “Maybe you should keep your hands off of women and you wouldn’t end up like this, asshole.”
“Ooh,” Gojo hisses from behind you. “Sorry, bud. Better luck next time.”
“You,” —the guy spits out more blood— “bitch.”
“Now, now, enough of that.” Geto grabs him by the curls on his head, dragging him forward so that he’s positioned in the center of the room, closer to where you stand near the bottom of the bed.
Gojo strides on over nonchalantly, standing right behind you. He starts to caress your sides, his hands moving sensually up and down your body. If it was possible, Gojo seems even harder now. His cock throbs in his pants as it presses against your backside. “Watch,” he whispers to you.
Geto stands in front of you, still holding the man up by his hair. He’s on his knees, and the blood from his mouth and his wounds are slowly starting to stain his clothes and his body a pinkish color.
The man winces as Geto’s grip on him tightens. “You’re here because we need to teach you a lesson.”
You gasp as Gojo’s hands move under your shirt, pulling it and your bra up in one fell swoop. He starts to pinch and pull at your nipples, which stand hard with your aroused state.
Geto hums in satisfaction at the sight, his eyes hooded with pleasure.
“Did you really think we would let you touch her like this?” Gojo chimes in. He relishes in how your body wriggles against him, craving his touch. One of his hands moves lower, and lower, and lower, and then disappears into your pants.
You moan as Gojo starts to play with your pussy, fingering at your slit. “Can’t believe how wet you are,” he croons in your ear, “getting worked up over something like this.” He tuts at you, playing with your folds as you let your body fall into him.
“Like—” you’re interrupted by your own involuntary moan as Gojo sticks two fingers inside of you with no warning. “Like you’re one to talk.”
His cock jumps as he laughs. He curls his fingers, and then begins to pump them in and out of your pussy.
“You see that?” Geto says. He’s talking to the bloody guy. “Only we get to touch her like that.” He leans down, staring at him eye to eye. “This is why you’re here. Because you touched something that’s ours. And for that” —he reaches behind him, brandishing the bloody knife— “you’ll have to pay.”
Seeing your typically calm and collected boyfriend take control like that was doing things to you. You feel your body heat up, and your core clenches around Gojo’s fingers, your imagination running wild with the change in your boyfriend’s behavior, thinking about all the things he could do to you.
Your moans are uncontrollable now as you whine and buck against Gojo, craving more.
“Shit, Suguru. Look at him, he’s hard!” Your boyfriend jeers at the man on the ground, but you don’t care enough to take your attention off the pleasure. “Aw man, what a fucking loser. Gotta get hard over our girl ‘cause he can’t find one on his own.”
Geto lets out a sound of disgust, sending a kick to the guy’s kidney. “Filthy fucking monkey.”
You can feel your peak approaching, and as you tighten around Gojo’s fingers he’s able to sense it, too. “Fuck, Suguru, I think she’s about to cum.”
“Not yet.” Suguru reaches out behind him, grabbing one last thing—a Ghostface mask. He fastens it onto his head before turning back to his soon-to-be victim.
“Fuck with our girl, pay the price.”
With that, Geto holds the man’s head up and slowly digs his knife across his throat. Blood pours out in waves, splashing against his body and the floor beneath him. Geto drops him without a care, and the man’s body falls face-first onto the floor as his blood surrounds him in a giant pool.
You gasp, and the shock of the scene in front of you paired with Gojo’s fingers wildly fucking into you has you cumming before you can even notice. Your eyes squeeze shut and your legs shake as your orgasm hits, your body going weak as Gojo holds you up.
When you open your eyes, Geto stands in front of you, still donning his bloody mask and knife.
You pant heavily, staring up at your boyfriend who slowly tilts his head while staring down at you.
“So you’re really Ghostface?” you ask, feeling dumb as soon as the question is out. You just watched him kill a man right in front of you. He rustles around his cloak, pulling out a small device. He clicks the button on the side of the device, bringing it up to his mask. “Not just me.” The device is a voice changer, you realize, and the voice that comes out is different from his own—much more gravelly, much more like that of a killer. You know exactly what he’s implying. You crane your neck to look at the man nuzzling into your hair.
“You too, Satoru?”
He places a kiss on the side of your head. “You know it, baby.”
A moment of silence passes before you speak up again.
“Is that why we also have the best sex coincidentally after the news hits of the killings around town?”
Your question is answered not by words, but by the cheeky grin on Gojo’s face.
“Clearly you enjoy it just as much as we do.” Geto continues, he runs his hands over your breasts, tracing the curves of your body until he reaches your wet folds, fingering at them. You gasp, still sensitive from your release.
“You’re not the only one who got worked up all over it.” He moves his robes around, and you see that Geto is sporting a boner.
“Fuck, that’s hot, babe,” Gojo whines from behind you. You silently agree.
Geto smirks. “It’ll be hotter once it’s inside of her.” His hands grip around your hips, pulling your pelvis closer to his. He deftly strips his lower half, his cock springing free from its confines in front of you. He goes to lift his mask up, but you stop him with a hand on his wrist.
“K-keep it on, please.” You can feel your face heat up, from embarrassment or arousal though, you aren’t entirely sure.
You can just imagine the smirk that Geto has on his face beneath it. “Dirty girl.” He agrees to the request, and the mask stays secured to his face.
Gojo breathes heavily from behind you, no doubt entranced by Geto just like you are.
“So greedy,” Geto hums. He gives his cock a few tugs and then lines it up with your pussy. You both hiss at the stretch of him inside of you, your insides pulsating with the new sensation.
“Oh, God,” you moan, clutching onto Geto’s shoulders like your life depended on it.
“There’s no God here,” he whispers into your ear, his hips pumping into you at a rapid pace, “only us.”
Gojo drops to his knees, his eyes focused on where you and Geto are connected. “Fuck,” he murmurs, “look at you too. He leans up, his tongue licking a long strip from Geto’s balls all the way to you opening. He slurps at your wetness as it sloshes out of you with Geto’s thrusts.
“Oh, yes, more!” you cry out. Gojo’s tongue feels like perfection as he expertly moves it around to hit your most sensitive spots. You can tell that Geto is also affected by the way his hips stutter, his rhythmic thrusts becoming more jerky.
“Such a whore for us.” Geto’s hands come up to grip your face, and you finally notice how the two of you are now covered in the blood of the man he just killed. The realization causes you to gasp and your walls flutter around Geto.
“Oh?” He looks at the way your pupils dilated on seeing the blood across both you and himself. “You like being covered in blood? So naughty,” he teases.
From his position on the ground, Gojo is able to reach the man’s corpse, and he sticks his hand in the puddle of blood that has yet to dry. He brings his blood-covered hands back up to your body, rubbing them all over your stomach and chest.
You moan as Gojo covers your body in blood, smearing it all over you. Your boyfriend reveals a toothy grin. “I like this look on her.”
Geto hums in agreement, dragging a hand down your body. “Get back over here,” he says to Gojo. He obeys, alternating between putting his mouth on your pussy and Geto’s cock.
“’M gonna cum again,” you stutter out, nails digging into the black robe.
Geto laughs. “Are you?” Suddenly, he pulls out his bloody knife, positioning it up to your neck. Your pussy grips him even tighter, your arousal so close to reaching its peak. “Such a bad girl. Squirming all over my dick with a knife to your throat.”
Gojo chimes in with a laugh. “Getting fucked by a killer’s cock while his victim is right next to you. Fuck, she’s clenching so hard around you, Suguru.”
You don’t even have time to protest or talk back before you cum, releasing your juices all over Geto’s cock, remnants falling onto Gojo’s face.
Geto’s release isn’t far behind your own.
“Fucking take it,” he groans, and his dick pulsates as he finally cums inside of you. His warm cum feels so good in your pussy, and you whimper when he finally pulls out of you.
Gojo’s tongue quickly replaces the feeling, however, and he greedily licks up both your arousal and Geto’s cum. You dig your fingers through his white locks as he eats you out like a man starved. Geto stands back, surveying the scene in front of him with pleasure.
When Gojo pulls away from your pussy, you practically collapse on top of him. He brings you down into his lap, bringing his lips up to your ear. His next words send a shock of pleasure down your spine and arousal churning in your core.
“Next time, you can watch me get a kill.”
in another life.
pairing: eren yeager x fem! reader
wc: 1.7k+
warnings: season 4 spoilers, just a shit ton of angst like idk what the hell i was on when i wrote this
summary: eren comes to find you the night before he leaves for marley, but when he forces you to think of a future without him, you’re not sure you can.
a/n: i actually forgot i wrote this lmao it’s just been sitting in my docs all lame n shit bc i didn’t like it at first but i read it again and i’m not mad at herrrr!! kinda contemplating a second part that reflects on reader n eren’s flashbacks when he comes returns to paradis and even heavier angst bc i’m evil >:)
You lolled your head forward, allowing heavy beads of water to cascade down your back, hot and ample as they soothed the rigid muscles of your shoulders and arms. You wiped away at your closed lids with wet hands before opening your eyes to watch as pearly suds gathered at your feet then disappeared into the drain.
There were two types of tired: one that could easily be alleviated with sleep or a brief pause for the body to restore its stability, but there was another that required much more. The type of tired caused its person to teeter on the edge of their sanity, silently wishing for nonexistence because sleep simply wouldn’t suffice. That was an insidious type of exhaustion that plagued the soul and the mind, and it was the type of tired that wasn’t habitual or biological, no human was made to endure its weather. You knew that kind of fatigue all too well.
Continuar lendo
Ex!Suna Rintarou x Singer! Reader SMAU!
Voleyball player Suna Rintarou and famous singer Miya Y/n did not end in good terms, what happens when Y/n’s career starts growing and they have to meet each other?
TW: Exes to lovers, angst a lot of angst, jealous!Suna, kinda insecure! Suna, heartbroken! Y/n, fluff at some point, humor
INTRODUCTION
cell mates | hell habitants
001- kiss on the lips
002-clinically insane
003-wattpad
004-fangirl
005
A/N: hello, its me again, im sorry i know i never finish the stories that i start, but im planning on continuing every story i haven’t finished, i just cant do much without wifi rn, for now enjoy!
reverse isekai, time travel, memory loss
post canon
reader/eren
word count: 3912
*note: This part includes the song "Until I Found You" by Stephen Sanchez (spotify / youtube) and I very strongly recommend listening to it once that scene starts. You'll be able to tell when to play it.
And now, for the end:
*****
You thought that with Mikasa here, Eren would finally start to act more normal.
You thought wrong.
In fact, it almost feels like he’s avoiding you more now.
You can barely catch sight of him in the crowded restaurant, as the hours pass and everyone gets a little more drunk. On the occasions that you do see him, he’s always tucked away in a corner talking to Armin. Or Mikasa. Or Jean or Sasha or Connie.
The fact that it’s them isn’t weird, they’re his best friends, but what is weird is that you’re not included. What is weird is the way the conversation comes to a sudden stop when you approach. What is weird is the sudden tension that washes over Eren as his back straightens, he takes in a breath, and his eyes immediately go to anywhere but you.
It’s. Weird.
And it hurts so much that you constantly have to remind yourself not to cry.
You’re trying to piece together what happened. What you did wrong. But you genuinely have no idea! Last night had been date night. You’d gone out to see a movie that Eren had been dying to see and then you came home. You and Eren made dinner together before you fell into bed and passed out next to each other, feeling like your life was perfect.
But then you’d woken up this morning and things had been far from perfect.
Things had been the exact opposite of perfe-
“You look like shit,” Hitch says as she leans against the bar next to you.
“Lovely to see you too, Hitch.”
Hitch is more of a friend-in-law than anything. A member of Eren’s social circle that you were sucked into when the two of you started dating. The only times you've really been “close” to her have been during drunken meet-ups in bar bathrooms when you've both sobbed about how pretty the other is while vowing to be best friends for life.
Normal girl stuff.
“Trouble in paradise~?” She teases as you roll your eyes and take another sip of your drink.
“No.” You immediately answer (despite the obvious lie).
Hitch laughs. “Alright, so the way you keep glaring at your boyfriend is some new form of foreplay then?”
Your cheeks burn. “Hitch that’s- you’re so gross!”
Hitch shrugs. “I’m just calling it like it is.”
Her eyes follow yours and she looks over at Eren. He’s on the other side of the restaurant with Armin, speaking in hushed tones with a serious expression on his face.
“I’m worried he’s about to break up with me.” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them.
In a shocking turn of events, Hitch doesn’t tease you about it. “Really?” She asks seriously.
“...yeah…”
“What makes you say that?”
“He’s just-” you sigh, “he was so weird this morning and he’s been avoiding me all day. When he looks at me it’s completely different from the way he normally looks at me. It’s like he’s- like he’s mad or something. I don’t get it.”
Hitch shrugs. “Did you guys get into a fight?”
“No.”
“Then he’s probably just being a weird guy about something. I bet you said something stupid and now he’s all in his head. Men are like that, you know. Stupidly emotional over the tiniest things.”
The world really must be fucked, because what Hitch is saying almost… makes sense.
“At the risk of regretting this,” you start before you tear your eyes away from Eren and look over at her, “what should I do?”
Hitch snickers and smiles that stupid Cheshire cat smile that you hate. “If it were me,” which you’re glad it’s not, given Hitch’s awful track record, “I’d give him a nice little reminder of what he’d be missing if he left.”
“Like what?”
“Quickie in the bathroom. I dunno.”
Your cheeks burn for the second time. “Hitch it’s the opening night of Niccolo’s restaurant!!”
She laughs loudly. “And what a perfect way to christen the handicap stall!”
“I can’t believe you…” You mumble as you stare back at your glass.
Then again… maybe she’s not completely wrong.
Not about screwing your boyfriend in the bathroom of your friend’s newly opened restaurant, of course! But about giving Eren a reminder. It didn’t seem like an awful idea, anyway.
You stare down at drink.
And then you chug the rest of it.
*****
“So we’re just born again or something and it’s- it’s like no one even cares about before?” Eren asked, scowling at the table he and Armin were sitting at. Mikasa had filled him in about how everyone’s memories get triggered at some point, but she’d left it at that after they’d gotten distracted talking about-...
His eyes naturally trail across the restaurant until they fall to you.
His cheeks flush.
Damit.
He looks away.
Armin laughs softly. “I know it’s confusing right now, but you’ll get used to it.”
“Doubt that,” Eren mumbled as he returned to the subject at hand. He takes a nervous breath. “I-... I killed too many people to get off that easy.”
Armin was silent for a moment. “Yes we-... we did.”
Eren slowly looks over at Armin. Armin, who was staring into his glass as he ran his thumb up and down the condensation, seemingly lost in thought.
“The thing about this life though,” Armin starts, “is that everyone has an understanding that it’s… it’s different. None of the stuff that happened before happened here. Yes, you still need to make amends but- but everyone gets it. Everyone understands that our last lives were complicated and instead of focusing on that we just try to enjoy the chance we’ve been given to live again.”
Eren looks around the restaurant at the people he knew hundreds of years ago who are alive again under completely different circumstances.
Marco is playing darts with Reiner, Annie, and Bertholdt. He hits a bullseye and all four of them cheer.
Sasha is sneaking a french fry off of Gabi’s plate. Gabi smacks her and with a scowl but Sasha flashes her a peace sign and sticks the french fry into her mouth.
Samuel wraps an arm around Connie’s shoulder and ruffles his short hair as Daz laughs next to them.
And then his eyes fall to you.
You, chatting with Hitch, of all people, at the bar.
You’re blushing about something, and he can’t help but admit to himself that you look cute when you do it. His heart does what it’s done all day when he looks at you and it starts pounding in his chest. He doesn’t get it. He really doesn’t get it. Who are you and how do you fit in with everyone here? You’re the only person in the entire restaurant that he doesn’t know, and yet the way you talk to everyone makes it seem like you’ve known them all just as long as he has.
Maybe even longer.
“You’re probably wondering who she is.” Armin smiles.
Eren’s cheeks turn slightly pink (again) and he quickly looks away from you as if he’s ashamed that he’d been caught.
And he is, sort of.
He is ashamed that he doesn’t remember someone who seems to matter so much.
“I wasn’t wondering…” Eren lies.
Instead of prodding, Armin just laughs and takes a sip of his beer. “Not everyone is like us,” Armin tells him, as he places his glass back on the table.
“You mean reincarnated or- or whatever this is?”
“Yeah,” Armin replies, “exactly.”
“Why’s that?”
“No one knows.” Armin answers. “We all have our guesses, obviously, but it’ll be impossible to ever prove any of them right.”
“What do you think?” If anyone had it figured out (or at least mostly figured out) it would have been Armin.
Armin pauses for a moment. “I think… I think that this life gets given to people who deserve a second chance. People who didn’t get to live happily the first time around, so now they can try again.”
“What’s your proof of that?”
“No proof,” Armin laughs, “just a feeling.”
“Hm.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” Eren mumbles. “You’re just… different now.”
Armin throws his head back and laughs. “Hopefully not too different.”
“Nah. It’s a good thing. You were too much of a know-it-all before.” The corners of Eren’s lips tug into a small smile as he says it and it feels- it feels good to smile. He didn’t get to do much of that in his last few years alive.
Armin scoffs before he laughs. “Rude Eren, rude.”
Eren’s smile grows wider as their eyes meet and he feels… alive.
For the first time since he woke up, he feels alive.
“Hey, Eren.”
The smile immediately wipes off his face as you appear next to him.
Coffee. Marker. Spaghetti and wine.
Eren rapidly blinks as he reaches up to rub his temples. “The fuck is-”
Your hands are in his. You pull them away from his head and Eren’s eyes flutter open to see you right in front of him. Just like how he’d woken up that morning.
He quickly looks over at Armin, wordlessly asking for his best friend to save him.
Instead, Armin smiles and says: “I’ll give you guys some alone time.”
“But Armin I-”
“What?” He asks with a short laugh. “Don’t tell me you don’t want to spend time with your girlfriend?”
Eren’s mouth slams shut. He feels like it’d be weird if he denied it because obviously the version of him that knew her would have been jumping at the opportunity.
“Don’t stress about it, Eren,” Armin tells him as he places a hand on Eren’s shoulder. He suddenly gets a suspicion that his friend knows about the random thoughts that keep coming to mind. “Just take it slow and you’ll figure it out.” Armin pats his shoulder before walking away.
“R-Right…” Eren mumbles.
Ever so slowly, he looks back to you.
Your hands are still holding his as you stare up at him. Eyes wide, lips slightly parted and taking in shallow breaths. It looks like you’re studying him. Watching. Waiting for some sort of clue that’ll give you a big grand “ah-hah!” moment.
And it makes his heart race.
His fingers twitch with the desire to reach up and tuck a piece of hair behind your ear as if- as if he knows what it would feel like to do that.
As if he’d done it before.
“Follow your instincts,” Mikasa had told him, “no matter which lifetime, you’ve always been pretty good at doing that.”
Eren swallows a lump in his throat and, for the first time all day, he lets the part of him that has been begging him to talk to you, to be next to you, to touch you-
He lets it take over.
He lets his instincts take over.
His fingers delicately ghost across your cheek, which starts to warm under his touch. He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear but his fingers linger there for a moment longer, admiring your soft skin and the way it sends a rush from his fingers right through to his heart.
Laughing as you walk through the park on campus. Taking pictures at your university graduation. Drunkenly stumbling down the street after a night out.
This time it’s not single sensations with no context of where they’re from. This time the thoughts- the memories, Eren realizes, are more vivid. More real. And it’s you, clearly you, front and center in all of them.
It’s you.
“I’m-” he speaks without even knowing he’s doing it. It’s his instincts again. The part of him that knows you. “I’ve been- um… distant.”
“Yeah..” you answer softly.
“I just- My head’s all- I-”
“Eren.” You cut him off and he immediately looks back at you.
The night sky. The stars. A swirl of green and blue.
You smile as you reach up to cup his hand, the hand that’s still against your cheek, in yours. “I love you.” You tell him.
The words tumble from Eren’s mouth before he even has a second to catch them: “I love you too.”
“Let's clear up some space, guys!” Niccolo calls as everyone begins to push the tables aside to make room for a dance floor.
You and Eren, snapped out of whatever moment you’d been having, jump apart.
Before the music even starts Sasha excitedly dances around as she pulls Niccolo along with her in anticipation.
Yesterday, you would have done the same thing as Sasha and tugged your boyfriend to the dance floor without the option of saying ‘no’. But today- today things are different and you still don’t know why.
You’re worried that if you asked him to dance he’d…
The music starts and you can’t help glancing over at Eren only to realize he’s already looking at you.
Your cheeks flush a light pink in response and, for some reason, his do the same. There’s a moment of hesitation, a moment where you think he’s going to turn away and avoid you like he’d been doing all day.
And then…
Georgia~
Eren holds a hand out to you.
Wrap me up in all your- I want you…
You slowly take it.
In my arms- Oh, let me…
He pulls you closer.
…hold you
His other hand presses to your lower back.
I’ll never let you go again, like I did
Oh, I used to say~
And then you’re slowly moving, just the two of you, sucked into your own little world as you become completely oblivious to everyone around you.
He avoids your eyes but still finds a way to steal little glances here and there. He seems-
Embarrassed.
Just like he did the day you accidentally ran a black marker over his new shirt.
I was lost within the darkness, but then I found her- I found you
“Welcome back, stranger.” You smiled at Eren as he entered the coffee shop for the second time.
Georgia, pulled me in I asked to- love her
“Are you asking me on a date?” “Don’t laugh, you’ll hurt my ego.”
Once again You fell, I- caught you
You both jump as you walk side-by-side and your hands accidentally brush against each other. You look over at him at the same time he tries to steal a glance at you. And then you both burst out laughing.
“I would never fall in love again until I found her”
You kiss for the first time on a park bench.
I said, “I would never fall unless it’s you I fall into”
“I love you.” “That’s… so cringe.”
I was lost within the darkness, but then I found her
You excitedly threw yourself into his arms as he placed his last moving box in your apartment.
I found you
The memories come back to Eren in vivid flashes as you move around the dance floor. It should be overwhelming- having two lives suddenly meshing together in his head but it’s- it’s not. It’s-
“Eren?” You ask, just like you’d been doing all day and never receiving an answer. “Are you okay?”
He slides a red velvet box into his bedside table before you burst into the room and ruin the surprise.
“Yeah,” Eren answers softly, “I’m-...”
I would never fall in love again until I found her
“I’m great.” He smiles.
I said, “I would never fall unless it’s you I fall into”
His hand comes up to cup your cheek, gently stroking his thumb across your skin.
I was lost within the darkness, but then I found her
Your lips meet.
I found you…
You come to a slow stop on the dance floor as you kiss, the memories of his lives- both of them, settling in their entirety in Eren’s mind.
He might not have known you in his last lifetime, but he found you in this one.
And in that moment, to Eren, that was all that mattered.
Eren pulls away, smiling down at you as his thumb brushes across your cheek. He wonders what would happen if he did try to explain it to you. Sure, he might sound crazy, but he has a feeling that you’d believe him. That you’d understand. That you’d hear him out and be just as equally amazed as he is when you realize what an amazing opportunity he’s been given, they've all been given, to live for the second time.
So maybe he’ll tell you one day.
Maybe they all will.
Eren settles on the promise to himself. The promise that one day he’d be honest. For now though, he just wanted to enjoy the life he’d been given.
And the fact that because of it, he found you.
********
“It looks great, Niccolo,” Eren tells his friend with a wide grin as he firmly shakes his hand. “Bet you’ll have the most popular restaurant on the whole block.”
“My only competition is a bakery that’s closed every day but Sundays,” Niccolo replies.
“See? You’re already killing it!”
Niccolo laughs and shakes his head. “Glad you could make it, Eren.” He says, patting Eren’s shoulder as he passes him a knowing glance. “And… we’re glad to have you back.”
You aren’t entirely sure what Niccolo means by it, but you figured that today was weird enough that you aren’t going to question it.
“Nicoooooooooo…” Sasha drunkenly drawls as she leans against the door of the restaurant. “There’s no more wineeeee…”
“Oh god.” Niccolo sighs.
You snicker as he turns around and catches his shit-faced fiancé before she ends up face-first against the pavement.
“Ready to go?” Eren asks, wrapping his arm around your shoulders before he presses his lips to the top of your head.
“Yep!”
You and Eren were one of the last few to leave. Everyone else had gotten way too drunk to stay any longer, but Eren hadn’t wanted to go home. He was having too much fun dancing, laughing, and bouncing around the room like a complete social butterfly.
“You had a lot of energy tonight.” You joke as the two of you walk down the street.
Eren laughs. “I was excited.”
“Yeah, I could tell. I think you talked to everyone there, even Annie.”
He scoffs. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You normally try to avoid her after that time she threw you over her shoulder and kicked your ass.”
“No, no, no you’re remembering that wrong.”
“I am not!”
“Totally are. I kicked her ass, remember?”
“Okay,” you snicker, “just keep telling yourself that.”
It doesn’t take you long to reach the train station. Eren’s arm is still around your shoulder as you take a seat on one of the benches. The sign above the station indicates that your train should be there in five minutes, but you don’t really care how long it takes.
With a sigh, you lean against Eren’s chest and he secures his arm around you, rubbing your shoulder as he does it.
“Cold?” He asks.
“Nah.” You reply.
He pulls off his jacket and places it around you anyway.
“Now you’re gonna be cold, dumbass.” You mumble, tightening his jacket around you nonetheless.
Eren scoffs. “I’m too sexy to get cold.”
“So you’re saying I’m not sexy?”
“Eh.” He shrugs. “You’re alright.”
You playfully slap his chest but he grabs your hand before you can pull it away. “Hey.” He says seriously as he curls his fingers around yours.
“What?”
“I’m sorry.” He kisses the tips of your fingers. “For… For being weird earlier.” He kisses you again.
“...It’s okay.” You mumble.
“No, it’s not. I was being distant for no reason and it was probably really shitty for you.”
You curl your fingers around his and squeeze his hand as you look down into your lap. “It-… yeah it kinda sucked.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Eren reassures you.
“Then… what happened?”
He opens his mouth to say something, but just as quickly closes it again. “It’s-... It’s not something that's easy to talk about.”
He thinks about the promise he made to himself earlier. The promise to tell you one day. To tell you the entire story, not leaving out a single detail, starting the moment he woke up from a weird dream in Shiganshina and ending when Mikasa’s blade met his neck.
He needs time though.
Time to think about how to say it. To tell it. To put it in a way that he can convey how wrong he was in his last life and how much better he wants to be in this one.
Time.
One of the two major things he was missing in his first life.
Time and…
“It’s okay, Eren.” Your words cut through his thoughts. “Just tell me when you’re ready.”
The way you look at him, with so much trust in your eyes, makes Eren smile.
So he promises it to himself again. He promises that he’ll tell you, one day, after a little bit of time.
Eren reaches over to cup your cheek in his hands and pull you in for a kiss.
You sigh against his lips as your eyes slide closed and the comforting familiarity of his kiss makes everything in the world seem right.
It makes everything seem perfect, once again.
And you don’t want to change a single thing-
Crisp hospital sheets. The afternoon light against his bandaged face. Brightly coloured pills in a paper cup.
You freeze as Eren pulls away from the kiss.
“Are you okay?” He asks.
“I snuck you an extra apple, don’t tell anyone or they’ll accuse me of picking favourites.”
“Hey,” he brushes his fingers across your forehead.
“Why would I skip out on the festival, it sounds like fun!”
“What’s going on?”
Fire. Rubble. Screaming.
He calls your name.
A grip. A squeeze. A pop.
“Can you hear me?”
The deafening sound of complete silence. Followed by the terrifying sight of pitch black.
Your eyes flutter open.
You don’t recognize where you are. You don’t recognize the sounds, or the smells, or the loud voice that comes from nowhere saying: “next train arriving, please stand behind the yellow line”.
But you do recognize something.
Someone.
And the sight of him, freshly shaved, hair cut and styled, free of bandages with no crutches to make up for a missing leg- it makes your heart flutter, just like it always did in that hospital room.
You smile, because what other reaction could you possibly have when you’re looking at the man you were forbidden to love, but loved so deeply despite it.
You say the only thing that makes sense, given the miracle before you:
“Are we in heaven, Mr. Kruger?”
Suddenly Eren knows exactly who you are.
Suddenly, he remembers why he’d tried so hard to forget.
“She’s distracting you, Eren,” Zeke said, his baseball on the bench between them. “She’s not,” was Eren’s only reply.
But now Eren knew he could never forget again. Not the longing. Not the guilt. Not the feeling of bones breaking, the smell of fresh blood, or the bursting of flesh between his fingers.
“Then kill her,” Zeke said casually like the words didn’t mean a single thing.
No. Eren would never forget again.
He’d never forget how it felt when he, the attack titan, crushed you in his hands and discarded your lifeless body against the battered streets of Liberio...
i just love tumblr…it’s like my little fanfic library 😞
pairing: poly!geto suguru x fem!reader x gojo satoru [jjk au]
warnings: jjk au! geto doesn't defect and everything is happy :)) cursing, periods, severe cramps, painkillers and mentions of taking more than you're supposed to (three instead of two), lots of talk of pain, mentions of vomiting, passing out, panic, mentions of death, mentions of burning yourself, probably ooc megumi but he's a kid here (probably gojo too but I can't not write him soft), family au!, megumi tsumiki and the twins are here!, probably taking liberties on how gojo's technique works but oops, this is for the girlies with severe period symptoms :'), major hurt/comfort
word count: 12.5k
a/n: drops this and yells "scatter!" and disappears back into seclusion. I did not proofread this :)
Gojo Satoru has never woken up so terrified in his life.
It’s a horrifying thing; to wake up lurching from your sheets as the love of your life cries out in panic just a few hours past midnight. For a moment, Satoru thinks he’s dying – or that he should be – because as he rips his sheets away from his legs, racing to his feet with his pulse already roaring in his eardrums, he turns to find Geto Suguru crumbling to his knees. The dark-haired man is the one who shouted, his hands fumbling to grasp another figure, their body limp and hanging useless in Suguru’s arms.
It’s your frame, clutched tight in Suguru’s big hands, that steals the breath from Satoru’s lungs. Ripping any semblance of oxygen right from his chest, the Six Eyes user is left stumbling on his feet to reach his spouses as they crumble to the floor – you limp in Suguru’s grip as you fall unconscious.
Suguru shouts, a desperate cry of your name as he finally sinks to the bathroom floor, urgently scrambling to cradle your weight against him and support your figure. When he’s settled on the ground, a hand carefully cradling your face, Suguru looks up at Satoru, panic in his features and his heart in his throat. For a tense second, neither man speaks, too terrified to properly ascertain the situation. Then, Satoru chokes out a desperate question as he stumbles into the doorframe, clutching the wood until he swears it could splinter beneath his hands.
“What happened?”
But let’s rewind a moment, shall we?
It starts two hours after midnight – well, it starts long before that, but it’s that moment you finally decide to pull yourself from the sheets and stumble into the bathroom. That moment, the one of shortened breaths and a weak whimper, is the one to incite the inferno that will wake Gojo Satoru in an hour or so.
You’ve been awake for hours. Sleep was a stubborn thing; an obstinate, pig-headed bastard that wouldn’t allow you the mercy of relief even hours after you’ve been awake clutching your stomach and trying desperately not to cry.
It’s agony. Beginning in your left side and rippling through the entirety of your stomach and down your legs, the cramping sensation seizes you with another tight fist and squeezes. It’s agony, and it’s been keeping you awake for hours.
Your period is merciless.
You’ve always had terrible cramps. That was a notion you had grown used to when you were young. Painkillers could only do so much, and you hated to have to take as many as you did just to function near normally. The first day of shark week was always terrible, but this? This was pure agony, and you were nearing your breaking point.
It festered for hours in your stomach, sending cramps through your form in catastrophic waves and pushing against your belly until you thought you were truly going to die. The urge to use the restroom is horrible, but each time you drag yourself to the ensuite bathroom, you sit there as another wave of agony nearly pulls you to your knees. You’re sweaty and tired, figure quivering as another rippling cramp seizes your legs, and you’ve never wanted anything more than the sweet relief of slumber.
Nothing seems to help.
A hot water bottle is pressed against your stomach, the liquid inside near boiling as you clutch it against your bare skin – a bad idea, you know, but the sensation of the burn is nowhere near as terrible as the cramps. You’ve downed three painkillers a few hours ago, probably another bad idea, but you’re desperate now.
You don’t want to wake Suguru or Satoru. It’s a Sunday night, and you know they both have work early tomorrow morning. They have to get the kids to school too. The four of your children always pile into one of your husband’s nice cars just a few hours past dawn. The kids get dropped off at primary school on their way to work, since it’s just around the corner from Jujutsu High.
You can’t tear their few precious hours of sleep away from them.
Not for this.
There’s nothing they can do – nothing you can do but sit and try to ride out the waves of crippling agony until they finally stop.
You’ve done this before. These cramps aren’t new. You can deal with them on your own.
Can’t you?
But as you repress a broken sob, pulling yourself away from the silk of your sheets and into the bathroom once more, you’re not quite sure.
When you reach the ensuite bathroom, another cramp surges through you and the tears you’ve been desperately withholding finally burst forth. Pressing your weight into the wall as the door slides shut, you click the lock and finally allow yourself to crumple. Your head pushes into your knees as you sob, trying to keep your cries quiet and muffled against your hand as the other clutches the hot water bottle against the throb of your stomach.
You’re tired. You’re tired and you’re in so much pain that your fingers tremble and your legs shake. It’s awful, and you just want to sleep.
But your uterus must hate you, because your stomach lurches and you scramble to lean over the toilet as you dry heave. You’ve never vomited on your period, but it sure does feel like you will.
Your skin itches. From the sweat or the general grime, you don’t know, but you hate it. Your chest shakes with another sob and your fists squeeze tight as you whine out a horrible sound of agony. It’s too much and you wish it would just stop. Leaning back against the wall, you sigh out a choked sound as you curl into yourself.
“Stop,” you whine brokenly, too defeated to even understand who you’re pleading to. “Please stop.”
Geto Suguru wakes up a few moments later.
He doesn’t know what pulls him from slumber at first. His brow furrows as consciousness returns, a deep breath leaving his nose as he sighs and takes in the feeling of body weight pressed into his chest. It’s a muscular figure, long and tall, so it must be Satoru. He’s pressed into Suguru’s stomach, body curled small in a near comical way as he attempts to tuck himself beneath Suguru’s chin. The long-haired man nearly huffs a chuckle as he pries open his tired eyes to see his partner.
Suguru runs a loving hand over the mess of pale white strands that fall into Satoru’s eyes, his lips quirking upwards softly as he smiles. Satoru nuzzles closer in his sleep, letting out a happy sigh as Suguru runs his nails through the other’s undercut. Then Suguru shifts, turning over his shoulder slowly to find you as his hand reaches out to pull you closer.
But you’re not there.
Suguru startles. Jolting silently as his heart skips a frightened beat, the sorcerer’s eyes rip open as they dilate. His hand finds an empty bed, the sheets cold and the imprint of your figure long lost. Suguru carefully untangles himself from his lover’s long limbs, his long, dark hair falling into his eyes as he sits upright.
“Baby?” his deep, tired voice rumbles in question. Where are you? He nearly asks, heart pounding in his chest. Are the kids okay?
Suguru knew it was weird you had chosen to sleep on the edge of the bed tonight. You’re usually more than happy to bury yourself in between them, cuddling close and nuzzling into their chests as you try to pull yourself even tighter into their embrace.
But last night, you gently pushed Suguru into your place, offering him a wave of your hand and a lame excuse as to why you wanted to sleep on the outside. Something about not wanting to sleep yet, he remembers.
He waits a moment, hoping you’ve just gotten up to use the restroom and you’ll return to them soon. The sound of Satoru’s quiet breaths echo through the space, and has to fill the long seconds by tracing his fingers over his lover’s back. Tracing gentle lines over the defined muscles, Suguru sighs softly and tries to calm his racing pulse.
A minute passes. Then another. And one more – until Suguru isn’t sure how long he’s been waiting.
Then Suguru cannot resist the swell of panic that ripples through his stomach.
His heart lurches in his chest as he swings his legs over the side of the bed, too panicked to offer Satoru more than a hushed sound and a stroke over his back when he tiredly mumbles in protest.
“‘M just gettin’ up for a sec,’” he mumbles quietly, swallowing back the lump in his throat when he sees the light in the bathroom on. “I’ll be back, love.”
Satoru grumbles something else, but is soothed when Suguru presses a gentle kiss to his brow.
“M’kay,” Satoru sighs, easily falling back asleep as he snuggles into the warmth Suguru left behind on the bed. If he wasn’t so worried, Suguru would smile, his heart clenching tight in his chest as he watches Satoru curl into his spot with a soft sound.
When Suguru stands, adjusting his sweats as he quietly makes his way to the bathroom, he pulls his hair from his eyes. Brushing the strands over his bare shoulder, he sighs as he fiddles for a hair tie in his pocket. He doesn't find one, so he simply pushes the dark strands back from his brow, letting them fall behind him and settle against his bare back.
You’ve always liked it when his hair is loose anyway.
Suguru knocks on the bathroom door first. It’s quiet, but you should be able to hear it. When you don’t respond, Suguru frowns and tries again. Knocking gently once more, he swallows as another wave of panic curls in his stomach.
“Sweetheart?” he tries quietly, voice still rumbling deeply from the slumber he was pulled from. “You’ve been in there a while, honey. Are you alright?”
Still, you don’t respond.
You want to. Of course you want to. It’s Suguru, and you don’t want to worry him.
But the waves of agonizing cramps have stolen your voice. All you can do is sit still and breathe. You feel utterly useless. There’s nothing you can do but control the slow pace of your breaths in a desperate attempt to distract yourself from the crippling sensation radiating from your stomach.
You want to respond – tell him you’re alright, tell him something, but the agony seals your lips shut. It’s horrible and another wave of tears spill from your tired eyes. You hate it. You wish you would stop crying; it’s not helping and it only makes you feel weak.
“Baby? I’m gettin’ worried.”
All you can manage is a sad, weak sound in response. It leaves your lips in more a sob than a hum, and you muffle the tears that shiver through you after.
“Honey!” Suguru murmurs worriedly, trying to twist the handle of the door, only to curse when he discovers it’s locked. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”
He shifts on his feet, lifting a hand to pull on the strands on his hair to soothe some of his panic. The sound you manage in response is another broken hum, and it only worsens the thundering pulse of Suguru’s heart. His gut twists as he tries the knob again, as if a few seconds will have changed the status of the lock.
You whine and Suguru swears his heart cracks. His head presses against the door as his eyes squeeze shut, fist still closed around the handle.
“Can you open the door f’me, sweetheart?” he murmurs desperately. “‘M really worried about you.”
Your eyes close, the watery burn rendering them useless as you sniffle. You huff around another breath of pain, pushing your head further into your knees. Trembling softly as your skin flushes, you battle against the waves of agony and the flash of heat that makes you feel sickly. Another wave of nausea ripples in your gut, and you remember how awful you must look.
Your hair is plastered against your head and your neck and you must look a mess. Wearing a pair of oversized sweats and one of Suguru’s shirts, you feel utterly gross. More than anything you want to open the door and let Suguru take you in his arms. Cuddling into his firm chest and feeling his big arms wrap around you would probably feel nice, but you’re all too aware of how sickly you must look.
You don’t want him to see you like this: sweaty, messy and sick as you curl in on yourself as you weep through another terrible cramp. You just want to sleep – you want it to stop, everything needs to stop.
Suguru hums out another question, but you don’t really hear it. It’s not until you hear the lilt of panic in his voice and his voice fiddling with the handle of the door do you manage to find your voice.
“Sugu…”
He startles. Head darting up to the door in front of him, Suguru breathes a sigh of relief and chokes out your name.
“Open the door, darling,” he whispers softly. “Please…”
You shake your head even though you know he can’t see it. Frowning as you sniffle, you lick your lips to taste salt and the disgusting hint of snot. You’re a mess, and you don’t want him to see you.
“No, Sugu,” you manage to mutter, head knocking back to rest against the wall as you continue to focus on breathing through your mouth. You visibly shiver through another cramp, this time seizing and whining as it echoes through your legs.
Suguru bites down on his lip, feeling another sliver of his heart crack at the broken sound of your voice. It pains him, your defeated sigh. He desperately wants to comfort you, to bring you into his chest and kiss your tears away. His hands ache to touch your skin, to feel the warmth he knows by heart. Closing his eyes as he rests his forehead against the wood of the door, Suguru sighs and swallows as he speaks again.
“Why not?” he murmurs worriedly, voice clipping words from fatigue pulling at his figure. “I need t’know you’re alright, my love.”
“Don’t wan’ you t’see me.”
Suguru’s head tilts and the lump in his throat swells. Heart clenching sadly, one of his hands lifts to rest on the door, as if he can reach you on the other side if he tries hard enough. He knows he can get through this door if he really wanted. It would be too easy for him to splinter the frame with his strength alone, and he has more than one curse at his disposal that could pick a lock smoothly.
It’s the sound of your voice that holds him back.
You’re so… tired. You’re broken whisper echoes through the wooden door with a sad coo, and it makes Suguru’s chest ache.
“My sweet girl…” Suguru whispers, fingers trailing across the wood like they’re desperate to stroke across your cheek. “Why don’t you want me to see you?”
You frustratedly sigh, cursing the tears that continue to track down your cheeks. No matter what you do, they keep dripping over your skin in tiny rivulets, staining your face with tracks of dried salt. You wipe them away but they’re quickly replaced by another stream.
You just want to sleep.
“I don’t feel good, Sugu,” you sigh tiredly, voice quivering around tears. It’s pathetic – how watery you sound. You wish you were stronger. “I look bad and I don’t want wan’ t’keep you an’ Toru awake.”
You don’t feel good? He nearly questions. Why didn’t you wake me?
But all he does is sigh softly, fists clenching against the door. For a moment he contemplates waking Satoru, knowing you probably won’t be able to resist them both. Though, when he turns over his shoulder, Suguru sees the bags beneath his lover’s eyes and the tired slump of his form in their sheets.
Satoru needs his sleep. It’s difficult enough for him to find slumber when the Six Eyes strains him dry.
Suguru lets him rest.
He murmurs your name again, his eyes closing as he continues to rest against the door.
“I’m in love with you, you know?” Suguru sighs sweetly, his lips lifting slightly to reveal a fond smile. “You could never ‘look bad’ to me, my darling.”
Shifting on his feet and looking up at the ceiling, his shoulders sag as he worries. What if you don’t open the door? He’s considering settling on the floor with his back against the door when he whispers again.
“And you don’t need t’worry about keepin’ me awake, alright? I want you t’come to me when you’re not feeling good.”
He pauses once, dropping his hand from the knob as he breathes.
“I worry about you, honey,” he finishes. “I just need to know you’re okay.”
You sniffle, feeling the cramp finally seep away to nothing. They’re not over, you can feel another wave rising from beneath the last, but at least they offer you a single moment to reach up and twist the lock.
It’s too much for you to handle alone.
You want to bury yourself in Suguru’s strong arms and weep as the pain shivers through you. If there’s nothing you can do to soothe the agony, then at least you won’t be alone.
“Okay.”
Suguru hears the lock click.
Gasping softly, he pulls himself upright and reaches down to grip the handle of the door with a skip of his heart. He was pondering waiting outside the door in the fading light of the moon when you whispered the tired word. His chest aches when he twists the knob, pulling the door open to reveal your figure.
You’re curled on the floor, calves crossed and legs pulled into your chest as you bury your head into your knees. Your arms wrap around yourself, one hand clutching the hot water bottle pressed tightly to your stomach.
Suguru frowns, his heart thumping sadly as you weep out another broken sound. His entire body aches in a way he cannot describe, physically pained at the choked sounds of agony leaving your lips. He’s already on his knees at your side when you lift your head, looking up at him through your tears and your lip quivering in a way he knows you cannot control.
He’s never seen you look so hurt.
“Oh, sweetheart…” he coos quietly, putting the pieces together as you shiver through another wave of crippling cramps, hand squeezing tight around your leg – your period. “You’re not alright.”
“No,” you weep, shaking your head with watery eyes leaking salty droplets down your cheeks, and you suck in a shaking breath as your fists clench. Your brow furrows as your eyelids squeeze shut, unable to mask the pain as it ripples through you. Suguru’s face softens into an expression of pain, frowning sadly. You have a high pain tolerance for your period cramps – he knows that. You’ve had painful periods your whole life, and he and Satoru have seen you conceal the agony in your features for years.
This is a knife to his heart.
You can’t conceal the sweat on your brow, nor the tremble of your fingers and the painful gasp of breath you suck in when the pain returns tenfold.
“It hurts, Sugu…”
“I know, I’m sorry,” he whispers sadly, desperately wishing there’s something he can do to stall the agony. “C’mere, honey.”
Suguru’s mouth twists into an expression of pain, and he carefully wraps an arm around your shoulders. Pulling you away from the wall, the dark-haired man maneuvers you into his chest as he sits onto the floor. You twist into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his frame as you weep softly into his bare chest, caring little for the tears that stain his skin. Suguru could care less. He’s far too worried about the expression plastered onto your features and the shiver that trembles through you.
“How long have you been up?” he whispers as he cradles you in his lap, hand stroking over your hair and strong arm wrapping around you.
You shake your head and Suguru’s frown deepens – if it’s even possible.
“Haven’t slept yet.”
Suguru’s hair falls into his eyes as he leans down to press a gentle kiss between your brows. He stays there, breathing through his noses as he continues to lay tiny kisses to your forehead. His eyes screw shut, hand stroking over your cheek as you bury yourself deeper into his embrace.
Your skin is warm, flushed with heat and your hair sticks to your forehead in a way Suguru knows must make you feel sickly. He carefully strokes the strands away and kisses the skin beneath with a soft sigh.
“Have you been awake all night?” he finally whispers, voice deep and quietly sad. “With cramps like this?”
You nod into his chest, wincing again and closing your eyes as you sob through another agonizing cramp. Your legs shake as you tuck them into yourself together, trying desperately to push the hot water bottle deeper into your skin.
“Oh, baby…” he sighs, leaning back to rest against the wall and pull you back into him. He strokes another hand across your face, thumbing the space between your brows when he sees the way they’re scrunched. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
You sigh and breathe a few times to steady yourself, slowly loosening your fists when Suguru pries your fingers open to intertwine his own around yours. He pulls your hands into his chest, tucking them by his heart so you can feel the pulse of his heart. He hopes you don’t notice how quick it’s beating. He’s still worried. Suguru cannot help the way his heart lurches when you wince. As if each throb of agony is his own, Suguru buries his face closer to your own, clutching onto your hand and not faltering when you tighten your grip to counter the waves of pain echoing through you.
“You’ve got work in the morning,” you pant quietly, voice still watery and weak. “And you an’ Toru gotta’ take the kids.”
“Honey…” he sighs sweetly. “You’re in pain… I want you t’wake me if you’re in pain, sweetheart. No amount of sleep could soothe me if you’re hurt and alone.”
You manage a hum in response, face still screwed shut and Suguru frowns when you muffle another sob as a cramp seizes you once more.
“Okay, baby… Okay,” he whispers, rocking you into him a little in an attempt to distract you. Now is not the time for a lecture, he supposes.“You’re alright, darling. You’re gonna be alright.”
He hates the sound of your tears.
When you shudder through another agonizing sound, Suguru’s face crumples. He’s never felt so useless. You’re in agony, and he can do nothing to fix it.
“You took your painkillers?”
You nod again, weeping into his chest and squeezing his hand tight.
“Three,” you mumble tiredly, focusing on the feeling of Suguru’s warm, bare chest pressed against your skin. It’s grounding and you don’t want to move. “They aren’t working.”
“How long ago?”
He doesn't want to pester you with questions, but he’s desperately pulling at strings, hoping one will grant him the solution to your pain.
“Midnight,” you manage. You wince again, and Suguru peppers kisses along your hairline, gently hushing you. You curl tighter into yourself, desperately huffing as the pain continues to swell higher. It feels like it will break at any moment, but it just… doesn’t. The agony continues to rise, as if there is no limit to its torment. The cramping sensation just comes back again and again, until you’re sure that there’s something wrong. How can a period be so painful?
“It hurts so bad, Sugu,” you cry, reaching the end of your tether. You’re desperate for the ache to stop, but it feels like there’s no point of end in sight. “I just want it to stop…”
Suguru feels his stomach twist, heart crying out in a pattern of your name. He pulls you tighter, a wave of his own tears swelling behind his eyes. Your cries chip at his heart, pieces of his soul falling apart in your agony. He wishes he could do something – use some kind of technique to null the pain, to soothe you, anything.
“I know, honey,” he soothes, cradling you closer and rubbing his finger over your cheek as he murmurs into your hairline. “I’m sorry I can’t do anything more. I’m sorry I can’t take this from you.”
You shake your head, clutching him tight as you attempt to focus on your breaths again. Hand wrapped tightly around his own, you try to use his touch as a grounding sensation. Eventually, the lulling motion of his finger over your cheek and his lips at your hairline soothe some of the tension beneath your skin. You relax into his touch despite the continuous waves of cramps still panging through your stomach.
“Just stay,” you weep, lifting your other hand from your stomach to clutch behind Suguru’s head. You hold onto his neck, burying your fingers in his soft hair and desperately inhale his familiar scent. Suguru is familiar – he’s safe. “Please…”
You don’t have to worry about anything as long as Suguru and Satoru are around.
“Always, sweetheart,” he whispers against you, dropping the hand at your cheek to press your hot water bottle into your stomach for you. “Always. You don’t have t’ask.”
His large hand keeps your bottle in place, spreading across your stomach and rubbing soothing circles into your waist with his thumb. His hand is big enough to settle on your stomach and the fabric of your hot water bottle.
Suguru hates this. He hates seeing you in pain. He hates that all he can do is sit and press delicate kisses to your hairline as you writhe in agony. It physically pains him to be unable to help – to have to watch as one of the loves of his life suffers.
Suguru buries his nose into your hair and kisses you once more, whispering sweet words of encouragement and humming in an attempt to distract you. He loves you so much, and he hopes you know that.
“You’re doing so well, my darling.”
Eventually, the wave passes, and you limply release your intense grip on his fingers and relax into his hold. It’s a slow process. Finally succumbing to some brief glimpse of exhaustion, you slip loosely into Suguru’s hold and trust him to catch you. There will be another cramp soon, but at least this one is over. You breathe out a sigh and look up at Suguru with tears on your lashes.
Strands of his dark hair fall into his eyes, and Suguru has never looked more beautiful to you. Sitting on the bathroom floor with you three hours past midnight, no shirt and a loose pair of sweats on his hips (ones he’s not sure are his own), and Suguru has never looked so endearing. The way he looks down at you, bangs dangling in front of his dark eyes and full lips leaning down to kiss your face gently; he’s princely.
Your heart finally slows to an acceptable pace as Suguru leans down, and you close your eyes as he lays a soft kiss to one of your eyelids. His full lips peck sweetly against one, then he leans away to kiss the other. Your eyes well with tears again, but this time you think they’re for a different reason.
“Hi,” he whispers sweetly, lips lifting to show you that tiny smile of his that makes your heart do funny things. You’re too tired to offer much more than a sigh and a quirk of your lips, but Suguru is grateful for the expression all the same.
“Hi, Sugu.”
“Are you feeling any better?”
You shake your head, sighing quietly as you shift.
“Not really.”
Suguru frowns again, and you’re tempted to lift your thumbs to pull his lips upwards again. Suguru looks so much prettier when he smiles.
“I’m sorry, honey,” he whispers. “Do you wanna get off the floor, at least? The bed’s much more comfortable and Toru’s gonna start worrying soon.”
You figure now is the best time to try moving, so you nod. There’s probably only a few minutes between these waves of terrible cramps, so you’ll take the moment you have to get back into bed.
“M’kay,” you sigh tiredly. Suguru's expression softens for a reason you don’t understand, but the sorcerer fondly smiles as he thinks of the same sound Satoru had made just minutes before.
“Alright, love. Let’s get you up, alright?”
You nod again, allowing Suguru to unwind his limbs from yours. He softly chuckles when you whine as his fingers unlace from your own, but readjusts his grip to carefully pull you to stand. He holds his other hand out, tenderly helping you stand.
“Careful…” he whispers. “Go slow, baby.”
Your head spins as you stand and you lift a hand to press against your temple. The rolling tide of nausea in your stomach had quelled for the time being, but the tremble of your legs is still too apparent. You step forward shakily, reaching out to grasp Suguru’s outstretched hand with a grateful smile. He returns the look with soft eyes and nods sweetly as he allows you to step out of the bathroom first.
When he’s certain you can stand on your own, Suguru turns over his shoulder to turn off the bathroom light and shut the door.
But he only gets so far.
Suddenly, you inhale sharply. Freezing in place, your body curls inwards on itself as a blinding swell of cramps overtakes your form. This one is sharp and crippling, radiating down your legs until even your calves feel weak. Your body is suddenly too hot, and the air is far too cold. Shivers trickle down your spine and you feel that all too familiar bolt of stifling panic strike through your chest. It runs through the entirety of your figure, sizzling beneath your skin and striking each nerve it passes. You feel that terrible curl of your stomach and the waves of oncoming panic filter through you.
You sway on your feet.
Something’s wrong. And it’s making you panic.
You open your mouth, lip quivering as you attempt to croak out a plea of Suguru’s name, but nothing comes. Some tired, broken whine leaves your lips instead – a desperate cry for help, for Suguru.
When Suguru turns around, head whipping over his shoulder sharply, he expects to see you headed towards his side of the bed. Instead, he’s met with your body swaying slightly as you pant and shiver. Suguru thinks his heart stops.
Then your body stills, and you crumple.
“Baby!”
Suguru throws himself forward, just managing to grab your figure as it goes limp. He sways, shifting your weight into his arms and panicking as you continue to sink into the floor. Your body is dead weight in his hands, still shivering but cold and unmoving.
He’s going to be sick.
His stomach curls as bile spills onto the back of his tongue, and Suguru can hear his heart pound in his ears. The lump is back in his throat, swelling until he can barely suck in a desperate breath to calm his panicked heart. Fuck, he’s never been so scared.
“Baby, oh fuck!” he cries, voice no longer quiet and delicate. Suguru openly shouts, desperately trying to carefully maneuver you to the floor, but his mind is screaming thousands of things at him at once. All he can hear is the roaring in his eardrums. His eyes scan over your limp figure and Suguru swears his heart cracks. He can feel it; deep within his chest, a splinter finally cleaves open.
“Oh my god, okay,” Suguru chokes out, carefully cradling you as he sinks to his knees. “You’re alright, okay? I’ve got you, honey.”
He doesn’t know what to do. His heart is pounding and his soul is openly weeping. There are tears welling in his eyes and dragging down the pristine skin of his cheeks.
Suguru doesn't know what to do.
“Okay,” he whispers frightfully. “Okay…”
You’re laying on your back, facing the ceiling, and the way your blank expression stares back at him makes him nauseous.
“Sweetheart?” he calls carefully, brushing a hand over your cheek to push hair away from your face. “Baby, c’mon…”
You don’t respond. There’s not even a twitch in your brow or a flick of your fingers. You’re unconscious. Suguru’s heart accelerates again, pounding until he thinks it might burst from his bony rib cage. He turns over his shoulder with a broken cry, calling for the one person he so urgently needs.
“Satoru!”
His voice is panicked, shouted with a guttural cry and he thinks it might echo through the house, but Suguru vaguely hopes he doesn't wake the kids.
“Satoru, wake up!”
But Satoru is already awake.
Lurching forward in the bed, the Six Eyes user is already throwing the sheets away from his legs as he scans the room. His technique is activated, and Suguru can feel the familiar curtain of Infinity wrap around his body.
“Suguru?” Satoru calls as he stands, his body tense and prepared to fight. “What happened? Are you alright?”
Suguru doesn’t have the chance to respond, because Satoru steps forward and his crystalline eyes find his lover’s hunched figure crouched in the doorway of the bathroom, bent over the body of their wife. You’re limp on the floor, hair sprawled out beneath you as Suguru cradles your head and glances up at his partner with desperate, fearful eyes.
Satoru thinks he’s dying.
It’s the only possible explanation for the lack of oxygen in his lungs and the stuttered pulse of his heart. His legs wane at his knees, nearly propelling him into the floor, but Satoru manages to keep himself upright as he throws his hands forward to brace himself on the bathroom doorway.
“What…?” Satoru whispers breathily, voice uncharacteristically quiet – uncharacteristically weak. “What happened?”
His Six Eyes are activated, flickering over every crevice of your form. They’re urgent, desperate to find the source of your pain. When they find nothing, Satoru swallows back a sound of desperation.
“She passed out,” Suguru whispers plainly, panic evident in the quiver of his voice. “She started her period early, Toru. She’s in so much pain…”
Satoru feels his knees wane again. His heart can’t take much more of this. She’s in pain? His soul cries.
“She’s been laying on the bathroom floor crying,” his lover mumbles, stroking a hand over your cheekbone as a tear drips into his mouth. “I shouldn’t have asked her t’get up – she was weak and I didn’t think –”
“Suguru.”
The dark-haired sorcerer stops. Lifting his head to stare up at Satoru, Suguru frowns.
“This isn’t your fault, Suguru,” Satoru whispers, trying desperately to keep himself calm. His heart is in his throat and his pulse roars, but he cannot allow himself to weaken. Suguru needs him – you need him.
“She’s not waking up…”
Satoru sucks in a breath, his hands curling into the doorframe and gripping the wood until he thinks it will splinter beneath his grip. And it might. Satoru has to be mindful of the strength he uses.
‘She’s not waking up.’ The phrase echoes through his head until it’s the only thing he can process. You’re not waking up. His wife isn’t waking up.
“Is she…” Satoru doesn't even know if he can say what he wants to know – what he needs to know. The words make him ill. “Is she breathing?”
Suguru chokes out a desperate sound. He hadn’t even considered…
And he doesn't want to.
His hand seizes one of yours, wrapping tightly around your fingers as he pulls it into his chest as he did before. He pleads for you to wake up and feel his heart pulse against your fingers again, just as you had minutes ago. He delicately thumbs over your pulse point, hand sliding down your neck where he cradles your cheek.
Suguru openly weeps when the thumping beat of your heart races beneath his fingers in greeting.
“Yeah…” he sobs out weakly, pushing his forehead into your chest. “Yeah, she’s breathing.”
Satoru sags in relief.
“Okay,” he covers his mouth with one of his palms, trying to suppress the broken sound that nearly leaves him. “Okay, that’s good.”
Before either man can ascertain what to do, there's rustling at the doorway. It’s a quiet sound, just a soft coo and the creak of the door as it slides open. Satoru’s head whips around, his fingers twitching to activate his technique when he falters.
Because seven year old Fushiguro Megumi stands in the doorway: his son.
Megumi’s clutching a plush dog, one that looks remarkably familiar to his Divine Dogs. The soft, dark fur is cradled in his hands as he hugs the stuffed animal to his chest. The plush nearly conceals him entirely, and his dark, spiky hair pokes out over the red mark on the dog’s forehead. It’s a matching toy – the dark one was a gift from Suguru while the white counterpart came from Satoru. They were presents (custom-made plushies) ordered by his fathers when Megumi successfully summoned his Divine Dogs for the first time.
Satoru still whines when Megumi prefers the dark stuffed animal to the white one. But Satoru doesn't know that Megumi snuggles the alabaster-coated dog when he’s gone on long missions. The boy barely goes anywhere without it until his father comes home.
“What’s goin’ on?” Megumi tiredly mumbles, one of his hands lifting to rub at his eyes as he yawns. His too big shirt, one of Satoru’s shirts from their youth, hangs over his frame and covers his knees. You were the one to tuck your son into bed last night, and Satoru doesn’t have the moment to fondly think of his boy asking to wear one of his dad’s shirts to bed.
Satoru sucks in a quiet breath, quickly glancing over his shoulder at Suguru. His husband is still on the bathroom floor, bent over your unconscious figure, but he looks up at Satoru with a silent nod. He’s alright. You’re alright.
Satoru sighs and turns back to Megumi, suddenly glad the ensuite bathroom is hidden from the doorway to their bedroom. He doesn't want Megumi to see his mother unconscious, or his fathers’ panic. He doesn’t want Megumi to see him scared. Satoru is his father – he needs to show his son that everything is going to be alright.
Swallowing down his tempered fear, Satoru tries to conceal the quiver of his voice when he responds to his son.
“It’s –” Satoru stops. He can’t say ‘it’s nothing.’ Because it’s not nothing; and he won’t lie to his son. “It’s alright, Megumi.”
That’s what he decides to say instead. Satoru breathes through his nose deeply as he tries not to turn back over his shoulder to check on you again.
“Mama’s just having some cramps, she’ll be okay.”
Megumi nods. He knows what Satoru means, because Geto Suguru would be damned before he raised a son that thinks menstruation was ‘gross.’ Megumi doesn’t know everything – he’s still a kid, afterall. He does know, however, that his mother is plagued with terrible pain once a month, and that it’s completely natural to talk about it.
Megumi toddles on his feet, the fatigue of the early morning hour making him uncharacteristically soft. He’s usually quite stoic for a kid, exhibiting the same, blank sort of look impassively. But no matter how quiet, you and the boys are well-adept at deciphering your kid’s feelings by now.
With sleep tugging at his eyes, Megumi paws at his tired lids and yawns sweetly. Shifting his balance again, the boy looks up at Satoru with a tiny, sweet frown.
“Mama’s hurting?” he pouts, bottom lip sticking out slightly. His fists tighten around his stuffed dog, eyes shifting around Satoru to try to get a glimpse of you. Fortunately, Suguru has already readjusted you in his arms and you’re both hidden in the ensuite bathroom.
“Yeah…” Satoru coughs to conceal the tremor of his voice. “Yeah, Mama’s hurting a little. But she’s strong, remember? She’ll be alright, her cramps will go away soon.”
He doesn’t know if his words are an attempt to convince Megumi or himself.
From behind Satoru, Suguru strokes another thumb over your cheekbone. He inhales a shaking breath as he feels the frightful warmth of your skin.
“C’mon…” he whispers in the tiny space that separates you. “Wake up, sweetheart. Let me see those pretty eyes again.”
Swallowing thickly, Suguru’s throat bobs as a tear begins to leak down his cheek.
“Please.”
He’s lost. Suguru doesn’t know what to do other than count the seconds since you’ve gone still in his arms. Each one feels longer than the last, but Suguru continues to count them. He doesn’t know why he does it. Perhaps some part of him thinks there is a certain point at which he’ll need to call for help. Is there a distinct period of time that has to pass before you need medical attention?
Suguru curses himself for not paying enough attention to Shoko’s basic first-aid lessons.
Satoru’s head flicks over his shoulder, crystalline-blue eyes finding your face as his heart clenches again. He’s conflicted. More than anything, he wants to drop to his knees at your side, just as Suguru has. He wants to clutch your remaining hand and feel the pulse of your heart as a reminder that you’re still there – still breathing. His heart hurts; torn between lingering at your side and comforting his son.
But then Satoru remembers the way you look at your kids. He recalls the fond crease of your eyes when you beam down at them, smiles shining and hands drawing them into you for an embrace. You love your kids more than anything, even though you’ve only had them for a few years now. Even though they’re not your biological kids, even though they’re not babies, and despite not even wanting children before them; they’re your pride and joy.
Satoru finds the strength within him to smile fondly. He knows you would be pushing him in Megumi’s direction if you had any semblance of consciousness right now.
Satoru tries not to frown at the reminder of your state.
Turning on his feet, Satoru steps away from the door, even as his heart cries out for him to return to your side. The remainder of his heart calls for his son – his boy, who is beginning to worry about his mother. It’s evident in the way Megumi shifts on his feet, fiddling with the soft fur of his stuffed pup.
When Satoru drops to his knees in front of Megumi, he spreads his arms wide in an invitation. He doesn’t expect Megumi to accept; he rarely does. Satoru is affectionate, it’s a sentiment clear as day, and Megumi usually prefers to avoid physical touch. He’s shy that way.
So Satoru is fondly surprised when Megumi toddles tiredly on his feet as he leans into his father’s embrace. Wrapping his arms tight around his son, Satoru stands from the floor with his heart beginning to return to a normal pace. Having Megumi in his arms is a comfort that soothes some of his rampaging nerves. The knowledge that the rest of his family is safe is a notion that eases some of the tension in his shoulders. Satoru knows he won’t find sleep for the rest of the night if he doesn’t peek into the girl’s room later to ensure they’re sleeping peacefully.
“It’s alright, Gumi,” Satoru whispers softly, stroking a hand through the spiky strands of the boy’s hair. Megumi rests his head on Satoru’s shoulder with a sigh. “Why did you wake up so early, bud?”
Megumi wraps an arm around Satoru’s neck, the other still cradling his pup between them. He closes his eyes and sighs sleepily once more as he mumbles in response.
“Heard Dad yell,” he tiredly whispers. He fiddles with a strand of Satoru’s white hair before he sheepishly continues. “I was scared…”
Satoru tries his hardest not to tease the boy. He knows it’s in his nature to make light of situations with humor, but Satoru also understands that this, perhaps, is not the time. Despite wanting to make Megumi feel better by laughing off the problem, Satoru also remembers the horrible strike of panic that had bolted through him when he heard Suguru yell.
Waking up to Suguru crying out for you as you collapsed was horrifying, and Satoru can only imagine how frightening it was for Megumi.
“Oh Gumi, I’m sorry,” Satoru whispers, rocking on his feet in an attempt to comfort the boy. Even though Megumi isn’t a baby, Satoru cannot help the instinctive sway of his feet as he runs a hand through his hair. “Dad didn’t mean to shout, pup. He was just worried about Mom.”
Megumi nods softly, snuggling closer to Satoru’s chest in a way that makes the father’s heart ache.
“Can I… Can I help?” Megumi quietly questions, words spoken only for his father to hear. “Mom always makes me feel better when I’m sick.”
Megumi mumbles something else; something that sounds like ‘don’t wan’ mom t’feel bad,’ but it’s muffled into Satoru’s neck and he barely catches it.
Satoru smiles despite the panic still roaring in his chest. The way Megumi calls you ‘mom’ and Suguru ‘dad’ has always made him a little emotional. It took more than a year for Megumi to truly grow comfortable in your makeshift family, but eventually the boy’s cautious exterior melted away into what he really was: a kid looking for a home – a family. He was abandoned for God’s sake, Satoru knows the kid was guarded when he found him. And he had every right to be.
But in just a few short years, Megumi has begun to call Tsumiki and the twins his sisters and on rare occasions, he’ll call Satoru his father. However, he knows those nights will always end in Satoru smothering him with affections and playful teases so he refrains from doing it often. Satoru does not take offense; he knows Megumi is shy.
“Yeah, she takes good care of us, huh?” Satoru murmurs fondly as he rubs a hand over his son’s back.
Before Satoru can reassure Megumi further, he’s interrupted when Suguru lets out a relieved sound over his shoulder. It’s a strange sort of combination of a sob and a gasp, but Satoru hears it all the same.
“Sweetheart…?” Satoru hears Suguru call, voice brighter but still wavering through the short syllables.
There’s a muffled sound of shuffling, then a groan and a cough before Suguru is concealing his tears in your neck.
Satoru exhales with relief, shoulders sagging as his eyes slide shut. He rubs a hand over Megumi’s back in the hopes the boy doesn’t see the fear slowly seeping from his father.
Inside the bathroom, Suguru clutches your hand tight to his chest, squeezing it thankfully and burying his face in your neck as he bends over you. Blinking slowly, you huff a choked breath and shakily reach upwards to lay your palm over Suguru’s head. Tangling your fingers in the mess of loose, dark hair you sigh deeply through your mouth. It’s a relief to feel Suguru bent over you; his weight presses into your chest and grounds you as you come back to consciousness. Though you’re still dizzy and a bit panicked, the feeling is beginning to leech from your limbs like poison from a wound.
Waking up was startling, and there’s a lingering sense of fear buzzing beneath your skin. It frightens you, and you clutch tightly onto Suguru with a tremble. The pain still twists in your stomach, but it’s nothing compared to how you felt before you passed out.
“Suguru…”
His name comes out in a sort of pleading cry, not unlike a frightened child, but you cannot help the way you long for his comfort. Tears leak from your eyes, another wave of salt that you find you cannot control.
Suguru responds to your call with a sweet coo, pressing a wet kiss to the skin of your throat and rumbling deep within his chest to reassure you that he’s still there. Brushing your hair from your eyes, Suguru leans away to peck your temple and stare down at you with relief painted across his features.
“You’re alright, honey. ‘S okay,” he whispers warmly, soothing the tension in your brow and brushing your tears away. When your eyes crack open, staring up at him with waning fear and confusion, Suguru huffs a laugh and smiles widely. “Hey, pretty girl.”
Your lips quiver upwards into a sort of sad smile, but Suguru is happy to see it despite the exhaustion in your features. Squeezing his hand, you look up at the dark-haired sorcerer as his hair falls into his eyes.
“Wha’ happened?”
Suguru looks over his shoulder, mouthing something you can’t hear, but you know he must be talking to Satoru. The muffled sound of his voice barely reaches your ears as you wade through the stream of your consciousness. You fight to keep Suguru in focus, and fortunately manage to cling to the waking world as sounds finally return to your senses. Something that sounds like “she’s alright, Toru,” rings through the bathroom, and then there’s the sound of Satoru replying but you can’t hear it. Your heart calls out for your other husband, and you squeeze Suguru’s hand in question.
“You passed out, darling,” Suguru looks back down at you with a sad smile. He hushes you when you wiggle, trying to sit upright. “Careful, love, careful. You scared the shit out of me, you know?”
Shooting him a sorry glance, you allow Suguru to gently lift you to a seated position every so slowly. He leans you against him, his thick thighs on either side of your hips as he lets you rest against his chest. You nod slowly as he delicately pulls your hair from your face and wraps his arms around you.
“Sorry.”
Suguru shakes his head with a hum.
“Don’t apologize, baby,” he whispers. “I’m just glad you’re awake. Are you feeling alright? How’s the pain?”
You slouch into his chest, wrapping your arms around your waist and nodding as your eyes slide shut.
“‘S not so bad. Where’s Toru?”
Suguru’s heart clenches sweetly, feeling warmed by your desire for Satoru. He adores the two of you with his entire being, and watching both of you always strikes a fond chord within his chest.
“He’s taking care of Gumi,” Suguru murmurs, looking down at you with a lovesick expression you cannot see. When you sit up straighter, Suguru accommodates your position with a scooch of his hips and his arm falling into your lap.
“Gumi’s awake?”
“Yeah,” your husband responds quietly. “I think he heard me shout when you fell. He came in a few minutes ago, and Satoru’s comforting him.”
Suguru sounds a little guilty when he mentions his outburst. He’s not embarrassed by any means; it was a cry shouted in overwhelming fear, so he feels no bashfulness for the tone of his voice. He does, however, feel guilty that he managed to wake his son in the process.
“He’s worried about you, I think.”
We all are, he almost finishes.
You sag into Suguru’s chest, weight sinking into the warmth of his bare skin as you slide your hand over the arm that is wrapped around you. Just as you begin to speak, Satoru peeks his head through the doorway. His body is twisted, obscuring Megumi’s view inside the bathroom. When he finds your gaze, Satoru visibly softens.
“Hey, sweet girl,” Satoru rumbles, a fond smile spreading across his features. “You feeling alright?”
You nod tiredly, resting your head against Suguru’s clavicle.
“That’s good. We were really worried, honey.”
Your sigh through your nose, trying to give him an apologetic look, but the fatigue is beginning to pull your eyelids downwards. Satoru’s gaze softens even further, if at all possible, and he continues.
“Can Megumi come in? He’s worried about you,” Satoru reiterates his partner’s words, clearly holding the boy against his chest as he speaks.
You’re about to nod, more than happy to cuddle with your son, when Suguru interrupts. Stroking a hand over your hip, the long-haired sorcerer hums.
“Let us come out, love,” he responds, already beginning to shift you in his lap. “We can talk about this in bed. I think everyone’s a little tired right now.”
You nod in agreement, feeling the ache of your muscles cry out for rest. Your arm trembles weakly when you lift your hand, and you frown at the lack of strength in your limbs. Suguru hushes you sweetly as he shifts you to sit upright as he stands.
“You’re exhausted, baby. It’s normal.”
Satoru murmurs his agreement on the other side of the doorway, already beginning to step away to set Megumi in the middle of your massive bed. He ensures the boy is comfortable as he stands upright, stretching his shoulders and turning to watch as Suguru hoists you up onto his hips slowly. Satoru figured he wasn’t going to let you walk after what happened the first time you tried.
Suguru’s hand is carefully cradling your head and the other wraps beneath your hips, keeping you stable and pressed against his big frame. The sorcerer is incredibly strong from the years of exorcizing curses and teaching students, so carrying you to the bed, despite your muffled protests, is an easy venture.
Setting you on the bed gently, you shift quickly to face Megumi as you lay back against the sheets. You nestle quickly into Suguru’s previous place in bed, already reaching out for your son as he nuzzles forward to latch onto your front.
“Hey, hun,” you whisper kindly, brushing dark strands from Megumi’s eyes. “What’s going on, Gumi?”
The boy looks up at you, still clutching his Divine Dog plush, and frowns. Your head tilts in confusion, and you watch as Megumi makes himself comfortable in your arms, cuddling close to your stomach and closing his eyes. You don’t protest, heart warming sweetly as the boy snuggles close. He doesn’t usually cuddle like this, so you’ll take every opportunity to hug him as you can.
“Dad said you’re feeling bad,” he mumbles into the stuffed dog now pressed between you. “‘M gonna make you feel better. Like you do when I’m sick.”
You smile. Heart full, your eyes slide shut as you lean forward to press a gentle kiss to the tired boy’s forehead. He mumbles something else, but he’s fading fast. Soon he’s lost to slumber, and he snoozes peacefully in your embrace.
“Thank you, Megumi,” you whisper as you press another soft kiss to your son’s forehead. Looking up at Satoru with tears brimming in your eyes, you find the white-haired sorcerer is already looking at you. There’s fondness spilling from his smile and a sweet gentleness in his expression, and he looks utterly lovesick.
“Hey,” Satoru murmurs.
“Hi.”
The Six Eyes user steps away for a moment, nodding at Suguru who whispers that he’s going to step out to get you water and your medicine. Satoru knows he’s also going to check in on the girls, so he gives Suguru a smile and a peck on the cheek as he slides around the bed to your back.
When Satoru climbs into the silken sheets, he immediately presses his bare chest into your back and wraps his strong arms around you and his son. Pressing his soft lips to the nape of your neck, he pulls you and Megumi into his chest as he relaxes. You feel the familiar tingle of Infinity wrap around you and smile tiredly. Satoru is always protecting you and your family. The technique easily wraps around you and Megumi in addition to Satoru, and you know the sorcerer will easily adapt it to cover Suguru soon too.
That’s just Satoru; he’s always looking out for his family.
When you sigh deeply and snuggle back into your husband, Satoru presses another gentle kiss to your neck and you feel him shake.
“Toru?”
The man shivers again, and when you shift, turning slightly to see his face, your face crumples as you find tears leaking from Satoru’s eyes. He looks utterly relieved, but his mouth still twitches in a sad sort of way and his sky-blue eyes shimmer with salty tears. For all his silly teasing and childlike humor, Satoru rarely looks so… scared. He’s always so strong – the strongest. But there are truly rare circumstances in which Gojo Satoru is confronted with true fear.
Circumstances in which he remembers how vulnerable his family can be.
“Oh, Satoru…”
Satoru buries his face in your neck again, concealing his tears as he calms down.
“I was so worried, baby. Oh my God,” he mutters into your skin. “I woke up and you were on the floor and Sugu was crying…”
You pull his hands tighter around you, careful not to wake Megumi. Stroking gentle circles into the muscle of his forearms, you coo a soft sound to soothe him.
“‘M alright now. Just a little bit of pain, it’s mostly gone.”
Satoru nods, clinging to your back as he finally grounds himself through the gentle touch of your fingers on his skin. He pulls you closer, seeming as though he’s trying to fuse his body to yours with how tight he binds himself to you. It’s the soft contact of your skin against his that soothes the beat of his heart and loosens the tension of his muscles. The tingly feeling that lingers on his skin where you press into him leaves trails of prickled nerves in their wake, as if physical contact between your bare skin incites a biological reaction beneath his flesh.
With you in his arms, tightly wrapped in his embrace where he can feel the pulse of your heart against his chest, Satoru finds serenity.
You’re here. And you’re safe.
Satoru chews on his lip as he sighs.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers, tucking his chin into your neck and dropping a hand to rub his palm over the side of your stomach. It’s uncanny, you think, that he already knows exactly where it hurts without you mentioning it. Satoru pays far more attention than people give him credit for. “I’m sorry I can’t do anything more to take it away.”
You shake your head, fatigued eyes closing as you focus on the feeling of Satoru’s big hands and the gentle circles he massages into you.
Satoru continues in a voice uncharacteristically weak for the Strongest.
“You were… alone and in pain,” he mumbles, guilt seeping into his tone as he frowns. “And I didn’t even know – we didn’t.”
Satoru carefully pulls your hair away from your neck to press a kiss to your bare shoulder and then one more against the skin of your throat. He inhales a wave of your familiar scent and flutters his eyes closed as he sinks into your back.
“I don’t want you to suffer alone, my love.”
You stroke a contemplative finger over his arm, humming quietly as you shift Megumi in your arms.
“Okay, Toru,” you whisper as you find the mirth in your exhausted figure to tease him. “You want me to wake you up at the ass crack of dawn when I’ve got cramps?”
Satoru muffles a small chuckle into your neck and you enjoy the feeling of his chest shaking with the feeling.
“Yeah, baby. Even then. Especially then.”
You huff a breath of laughter through your nose, only stopping when you swiftly inhale as another cramp seizes your abdomen. It’s strong, but nothing like the ones you were having earlier. You can manage these. Satoru leans up on his elbow when you stiffen, lifting his other hand to check the hot water bottle Suguru had returned to your stomach.
When Satoru pulls the bottle away, his brow furrows and he hisses when he finds faint hints of inflamed skin where you’ve pressed it too tight to your belly. It’s too hot and too close, he realizes. It’s burning you.
Satoru nearly sits upright quickly, his frame leaning over yours as he gasps faintly.
“Honey…” He’s on the verge of scolding you, but he sees the way you wince through another cramp and decides against it. Satoru looks back down at the hot water bottle and the way you clutch it tightly to combat the waves of throbbing in your belly.
“This is burning you,” he states it obviously.
“Hmm,” you respond in agreement. “Feels nice.”
Satory looks down at you with pain in his features, face twisted into a frown and his crystalline eyes a shade duller.
“Baby, it’s hurting you – How can…?”
Satoru trails off. He thinks about how terribly you must have been aching to continue pressing something that was burning you into your skin. How agonizing were your cramps that the pain of the burn was comforting?
Satoru lays back down, a frown on his lips as he wraps his arm back around you and lays his palm over the hot water bottle. If you’re going to keep it pressed into your skin, then he can make sure it doesn’t get too warm by leaving his hand against it.
“My god, baby… I’m so sorry,” he whispers. He can’t even comprehend how agonizing this must be for you. Satoru kisses your nape again. He apologizes again, and you almost miss the silly Satoru who would typically be teasing you right now. “I’m sorry I can’t do anything.”
You yawn, finally feeling exhaustion begin to drag you beneath the slow, rocking waves of slumber. Pushing yourself deeper into your husband’s embrace and squeezing your son tight once more, you sigh out a few more words before you finally sink into sleep’s warm hands.
“You are doing something,” you murmur, pulling his hand up to your mouth to kiss it tiredly. “You’re here, Satoru. I don’t think I can do this alone anymore.”
When Suguru climbs back into bed on Megumi’s other side, he kisses the fond smile on Satoru’s lips and teases his partner about the stars in his eyes. The crystalline-eyed sorcerer refutes Suguru’s quip by reaching out to gently slap his bicep, but it’s all in mirthful adoration. Suguru leans over to press a tender kiss to your sleeping brow and then one to his son’s, before he settles behind Megumi and sighs contentedly.
“She’s sleeping?” Suguru whispers, voice barely carried through the quiet night. He stares down at your face, the peaceful expression on your lips far more comforting than the limp, placid look of unconsciousness he remembers. Satoru watches his husband watch you, adoration swelling in his heart like an ebbing tide. Unbound by all but the moon, Satoru swears his heart only grows fonder each time he truly takes in his partners.
“She’s sleeping,” he confirms sleepily, still staring up at Suguru with warmth in his chest.
“Good.”
Suguru’s response is sighed out thankfully, his shoulders deflating with the tension easing away from his muscle. He wraps his arms around Megumi and pulls himself closer to the boy, smiling when he easily cuddles into his father. Not often does Suguru have the opportunity to snuggle his son, so he eagerly grins as Megumi’s sleeping form curls near.
“She’s early,” Satoru mentions plainly from across Suguru. “She wasn’t supposed to start until next week.”
The dark-haired sorcerer nods, recalling the date he marked in his phone. He and Satoru both kept track; it was easier that way. At this point, though, Suguru is certain he doesn't need his calendar to know these things. Your anniversary is ingrained in his memory, as is every one of your important dates. The three of you have spent more than a decade together, this kind of instinct was certain to develop at some point or another.
“Yeah,” Suguru sighs. He twists slowly to glance tiredly at the clock on his bedside. “She took some painkillers at midnight, can you write that down? If she wakes again she can take some more.”
Satoru nods, a hand already reaching for his phone on the nightstand behind him. It was second-nature to jot down the time you took medication. You always tried to keep track yourself, but sometimes noting the time slipped your mind, and you were left trying to recall the last time you took them. Satoru easily adds the time to his notes, and marks the date in his calendar to adjust your future schedule later. He checks that there’s still a bottle of your preferred painkiller in his nightstand drawer and a granola bar to eat when you take them.
When he sets the phone down, he looks back over at Suguru, who sleepily stares down at your sleeping face. Nothing seems out of the ordinary, but Satoru can see where Suguru has slid his around yours, pressing two of his fingers into the pulse point of your wrist.
He’s counting your heartbeats – making sure you’re still breathing. Because Suguru remembers the way you crumpled all too clearly.
Sighing a shaking breath as he familiarizes himself with the gentle thump of your lifeline, Satoru slides a hand around you and his son, and he lays it across his lover with a sad smile. Suguru looks up with tired eyes, the dark bags beneath his lashes barely visible in the night hour. They match the ones beneath your eyes and probably Satoru’s too.
“Hey,” Satoru mumbles. “She’s alright, Sugu.”
Suguru nods, finally sinking into the mattress and pressing a final kiss to Megumi’s hair as he makes himself comfortable. Satoru does the same, delicately squeezing the hand still wrapped around yours and cradled sweetly at your chest.
“We’re alright,” Suguru confirms, eyes finally sinking closed as he falls back asleep with part of his family in his embrace. “We’re alright.”
In the morning, you awake to two Divine Dogs guarding the foot of your bed. The white one sits with its side pressed against the dark one, and both face the bedroom door. You awake alone in bed, but you can hear distant voices quietly chatting in the hall. The little pups’ ears are perked upwards, diligently listening to the conversation outside.
When you sit up, the white one flips his head over his shoulder, happily sticking his tongue out in a joyful expression. He pants and his tail thumps against the floor as you beckon him closer.
“Good morning, pup,” you laugh as it wiggles excitedly when you scratch behind his ears. The dark-coated one quickly follows soon after, eagerly joining his brother for scratches. “What are you two doin’ here?”
The pups tilt their heads with that silly, tongue-out expression, as if communicating their eagerness. You stifle your laughter and carefully stand from the sheets, making your way into the kitchen with the dogs on your heels.
When you enter the living space, you find Suguru on the couch with the twins on either side of his lap. They’re eagerly leaning over one of Suguru’s books, excitedly murmuring amongst themselves as their father reads aloud. It’s one of his novels, and you chuckle knowing that the girls were probably the ones to pick it out for him to read.
Tsumiki is at the table, leaning over some kind of puzzle, and her brother is at her side. She looks up as you come in, offering you a gentle smile and a nod before she goes back to her puzzle. Megumi sits on his knees in the chair, spiky hair unkempt as always and a look of concentration on his face.
Before you can speak, Satoru is pressed against your back, greeting you with a gentle hum.
“G’morning, sweetheart,” he coos, pecking your cheek and sliding a croissant into your hands and holding a glass of water in his other. “Eat up. You can take some medicine when you’re done.”
He always makes sure you eat before you take your medicine. Your heart thumps happily beneath your ribs, and you smile in return, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips and thanking him.
“Thanks, love.”
Satoru hums and slides his free hand over your waist to squeeze your hip. He opens his mouth to say something, but the twins interrupt him. They gasp, standing from Suguru’s lap and eagerly racing over to greet you.
Suguru chuckles, but still gently chides them as they race into the kitchen.
“Careful!”
Nanako and Mimiko crash into your hips with eager sounds, each grabbing you around the waist and crying out.
“Mama!” They cry worriedly, scrambling to hug you as they bury their faces in your legs. They start pushing you towards the couch with little hands, earnestly murmuring things you cannot make out. You look up at Satoru with a confused furrow of your brow, and your husband only chuckles and holds his hands up in a gesture of ‘i’ve got nothing to do with this.’
When you reach the couch, the girls scramble to make you sit beside Suguru, who is all too eager to wrap an arm around your shoulders to accommodate your arrival.
“Good morning,” he hums as he pecks your temple.
Nanako is already sliding a blanket into your lap as Mimiko climbs onto the couch, depositing herself at your side and snuggling into you.
“Good morning,” you respond, watching with a fond smile as the girls make themselves comfortable in your lap. “What’s all this?”
Suguru chuckles, reaching out to gently ruffle Nanako’s hair as she smiles. The girl looks up at her father with a beaming grin and snuggles closer to you when you wrap an arm around her to keep her stable. Your husband leans closer with a smile, murmuring quietly for only you to hear.
“Megumi told them you were sick last night,” he fondly whispers. “I think it worried them.”
Your head tilts in an expression of tenderness, and you give Suguru a knowing look before you lean down to kiss both your girls on the forehead.
“Good morning, girls,” you rumble happily. “I’m alright, sweethearts. Megumi and your dads took very good care of me.”
Mimiko wiggles closer, snuggling into you and her sister with big, worried eyes.
“Really?” her tiny voice murmurs. “Megumi-nii said you were hurting.”
You can almost hear the pout in her voice without looking down at her. Giggling happily, you stroke a hand over her head and squeeze her close.
“He even brought out his puppies!” Nanako quickly adds, squirming as he attempts to find the two Divine Dogs. “He said we couldn’t come in to see you because you needed to rest.”
The two Shikigami have already returned to their owner, sitting on either side of Megumi’s chair with wagging tails and their tongues still sticking out. The boy is absentmindedly petting one while he focuses on the puzzle, shyly avoiding your gaze as if embarrassed.
Your heart clenches sweetly again, and you turn to look at Satoru with a knowing smile. The sorcerer returns the look as he steps into the kitchen for your painkillers, ruffling Megumi’s hair as he goes. The boy lets out a muffled sound of discontent, but he doesn’t fix his messy strands.
“Did he? That’s very sweet of him.”
You and Suguru do not mention the faint pinkness of Megumi’s round cheeks.
When you lean into Suguru’s side, the croissant in your hand warm like your lover’s body heat, you sigh happily. The cramps are a faint memory now, even though you know they’ll return soon. For now, you can savor the warmth of your family.
“You’re taking the day off then, I suppose,” you look up at Suguru with an arched brow. Suguru smiles, leaning his head into yours to rest there.
“Yeah,” he sighs, cuddling close to you and the twins. “We all are.”
You suppose you can deal with the consequences of their unscheduled departure from work and school later… You’re far too warm and content now. When Satoru returns, sliding a glass of water into your empty hand and two painkillers into your other, he patiently waits as you take the pills. Then he sets the glass on the side table beside the mug of raspberry leaf tea he brewed for your cramps, and then he eagerly dives into the limited space left on the couch.
Scrambling into the twins’ space, Nanako and Mimiko giggle happily as Satoru presses kisses over their faces and squirms onto the couch. He plops Mimiko into his lap so he can sit at your side, laughing when the girls squeal happily. As you settle, you see Megumi look up from the table, shyly glancing away from his sister. Tsumiki gives him a knowing look as she climbs from her chair and eagerly walks over to Suguru.
Suguru is too happy to allow her the tiny portion of space on his other side, and Tsumiki slides onto the couch, her side pressed tight to Suguru’s. She offers you a good morning and laughs when the twins attempt to squirm away from Satoru’s tickling fingers.
Eventually Megumi stands from his place at the table, looking over at the couch as he debates something internally. A moment later, he stands in front of Suguru, shyly shifting on his feet as he looks at the only empty space on the couch.
Megumi doesn’t need to say anything, because Suguru is already lifting the boy into his lap with a smile. Saving his son the embarrassment of shyly asking for the affection he usually avoids, Suguru chuckles as he deposits the last member of his family into his lap.
“We could all use a day off,” he murmurs into your temple as he kisses you sweetly.
You sigh happily, soaking in the warmth of the morning sun and the laughter of your family.
“Yeah, that sounds nice.”
The moment is only interrupted when Megumi’s Divine Dogs, only pups at this age, launch themselves onto the couch, eager to join the snuggles. The seven of you dissolve into laughter as you try to maneuver the excited puppies, and you can’t ask for anything else.
“Megumi!” You laugh, trying to brush white dog hair from your face. “Control your summons!”
The boy only laughs happily as the dark-coated puppy wiggles into his lap.
No, he doesn’t think he will.
bonus:
gojo, looking down at reader and geto: you're so cute and pretty
reader, sleepily: I could beat the shit out of you
geto, nodding along: she could
gojo, lovingly: I know
a/n: no I am not back to writing just yet :')) I wrote this in a pain induced haze while having some terrible cramps so if you have terrible periods like me, this one is for you! this is purely based on my experience with cramps, and everyone is different, but I just wanted to write something for me :") I've never passed out but I've felt like it and I know it's super scary so I hope this can provide some comfort for you if you need it <3
ALSO this was written as comfort for jjk 236 :'))) bc everyone in this fic deserved better and I refuse to acknowledge canon
-Art in the banner from nek0zuu_ on X-
Pairings- Former Nerd! Gojo and popular F! reader
Summary - Satoru Gojo was the biggest nerd EVER in high school with you, next door neighbors, study buddies, you were the best friends in the world. Never having the courage to ask you -the 'popular girl' out- you never knew he felt for you. He ended up leaving town, moving to the big city of LA- getting famous with a modeling career, and lost touch with everyone from his old life. While you're working the family pub to help out your parents, years later, he finally comes back to visit, just to have you making his drink. Everything about him is different, aside from those pretty blue eyes and the sweet grin. You feel he's so accomplished now, and you're just a small town girl, but little do you know, you've never left his mind.
Warnings - Will be explicit and smutty (it's me!?) Nerdjo turned famous and cocky, but he's still just a Nerdjo deep down hehe- his chap, mentions of sex/getting turned on, Gojo being an ass tbh, welcome back Jock Sukuna and say hi to bitchy model Samantha lol, some angst and mutual pining, lots of feelings
Based HEAVILY on the 2005 Rom com Just Friends - part of my amazinggg moot @indiewritesxoxo's Friday night flicks! 🌙
<<<Part One - Masterlist
Part Two
Your POV
It was odd, being back in your hometown after years of living on your own, but when your family needed help with their bar, and with student loans piling up - teaching did not pay very well - you couldn’t help but come back home for a bit. The shifts at the hometown bar helped, and staying with your parents for just a few months was definitely a life saver.
It’s not exactly where you saw yourself, teaching lay offs all over, now you have a preschool class here and you love it, but it’s definitely not enough to cover everything. You feel so… just upset, that you’re back here at your first job, grabbing beers for familiar faces, people who never left their hometown, and some that have, but came back like you did.
Despite it being Spring, it was freezing where you lived, some cold spurt that brought on snow in March, so many of the town were curling up by the roaring fire, bundled up laughing and drinking to stay warm. The bar had quite a cozy atmosphere, it reminded you of home, truly, you grew up here, from bussing tables and cleaning to serving drinks.
“Hey love, you look amazing.” You see Suguru and Shoko then, Shoko has a cigarette between her fingers, a familiar smile that makes you beam, as you come out from behind the bar, hugging them both.
“I missed you two oh goodness!” You receive a kiss on each cheek from them, as you hug them together.
“We heard you were back in town, how have you been?” Suguru asks softly, you sigh a bit, peering up at the tall man.
“I can’t believe I’m back here. Layoffs.” They frown then. “I heard you all run a whole dentist office!?”
“Sugu is a hot dentist.” Shoko teases, and he smirks a bit.
“Shoko runs the clinic attached to it. She outranks me.”
“Always.” You laugh with the two of them, hands on their shoulders now.
“I’m so proud of you two, what? Doctors, I can't believe that.”
“Hey now, teaching is important.” Shoko brushes your hair back softly, earning your flushed cheeks at her praise.
“They definitely don’t make enough.” Suguru says, earning your sigh.
“You’re telling me. Let me get you all drinks!” You eagerly bounce back, mixing them up drinks, Shoko loves a lemon drop from what you remember, and Suguru always enjoyed a rum and coke.
“You remember!” Shoko winks as you hand her the pretty drink, garnishing it with a little lemon swirl and grinning. The noise of the bar fills your ears, as you lean across the polished bar table, glinting under the soft lights overhead.
“Of course I remember. Gosh, it’s been four years since I’ve seen you all I think.” You all start catching up, but of course it starts to get busier, and you begin to take care of all the customers as Suguru and Shoko start tossing darts at the black and red circled board.
You smile at them, they’d always been the perfect couple, making that longing fill you too much. You fully expected to be married with kids by now, sure it was quite a homey little dream, that white picket fence, maybe two kids and some cute golden retriever, but that’s what you always dreamed of. Unfortunately, your bad taste and men did not end in high school.
“Speak of the devil…” You murmur nervously, when you see him, Ryomen Sukuna looking just as good if not better than high school, he still wears his damn letterman’s jacket from college, where he’d become an all star player, you hear now he’s even going pro.
What’s he doing back home?
He grins over now, red eyes sharp as ever, and you fully anticipate him bothering you, saying something pervy, as he walks across the crowded bar, stopping to talk to almost everyone, he was quite a name here. The only person more famous from your little town - there is a population of fourteen thousand and perhaps four stop lights- was Satoru Gojo.
You’d seen him on the damn cat walk, recently he was on the cover of Vogue, him and some other really famous model, this little smirk on his face that just doesn’t fit the boy you knew. If you thought he was cut before, his body was damn near godly, so perfect it was intimidating, and he’d only gotten prettier, not that Satoru wasn’t always so pretty.
He just didn’t know it then.
You think of him sometimes, hurt initially back when summer break hit after high school, and he refused all your calls, he refused to see or talk to anyone when you all lived so fucking close. You tried everything you could, feeling awful because it was your party and you didn’t know, could you have done more? Could you have shoved everyone out?
You were fully planning to if he’d just given you a moment. Your yearbook to this day is something you cherish, and reading his sweet words over and over, he’d taken over an entire page, with words of love you’ve never felt before. But to say it was all ‘a joke’ and leaving, never accepting a friend request, shit he didn’t even talk to Suguru or Shoko, his other best friends.
Satoru never spoke of his hometown in interviews, and when you saw his mom recently, you learned he’s never come home. You know things were hard on him, brutal even, but you wish he knew just how much you loved him, cared for him, sure it was more of a beautiful friendship, but you also were attracted to him, though you were scared to ruin that friendship.
If he just gave you a damn moment.
A friendship you built your entire life demolished, and you miss him even now, you miss the quiet mornings you two would study at the library, you miss the cup of coffee he’d have for you every morning. You missed the little sleepovers, playing pokemon games together, battling it out on the Wii, the amount of things the two of you shared, gone in a moment.
Sukuna leans across the bar, shaking you out of your reverie, his familiar, arrogant smirk just a little softer as his ruby eyes drape down your body, you’re just in some jeans and a polo, nothing too sexy for the family bar here. But he seems to take pleasure in every slow inch, murmuring your name.
“Look at you, even hotter than high school, shit.” You heat up a bit under his gaze, tilting your head and running your hand across your neck.
“Thank you, Sukuna. You look good too.” You earn his wide grin, as he swipes a hand through his pink hair, snowflakes melting just a bit as he leans his hip against the bar now.
“I’ve wondered how you were doing, aren’t you a teacher?”
“I am, but… layoffs.” Sukuna frowns a bit. “I’m teaching preschool here for now, but it’s…”
“They don’t pay shit.” On this, everyone agrees,
“Mmhmm, but it’s my passion. So here I am, working the student loans off.” You wink at him, and he softens then, resting his elbow on the bar, a hand in his chin.
“So pretty you shouldn’t be working.”
“Oh… no. Not at all.” You clear your throat, something is so different about him, he’s not the asshole you remember, or so it seems. “But just temporary, I’m finishing up a couple classes to teach higher education.”
“You always were smart, you’ll do well.”
“Oh… thank you, Sukuna.”
“Used to call me Kuna you know.” You giggle now, easing a bit, even under his gaze, which keeps darting down your body. “God you haven’t changed a bit.”
“Say that to the freshman fifteen that never left.” Sukuna chuckles then, when you turn and bend over, grabbing a beer.
“Went to your nice ass-”
“Sukuna!” You glare behind yourself, and he’s chuckling. “Here I was thinking you were all sweet.”
“I am sweet, thank you. Shit I’d love to catch up sometime?” You hand him his beer, sighing then.
“I don’t know…”
“Lunch or something?”
Satoru’s POV
Satoru’s stepping into the bustling bar with the most annoying model ever, cock hungry too, who’s clinging to his arm, looking at the little bar in disgust, while he eyes the familiar surroundings. He scoffs as he sees Sukuna’s letterman jacket, so pretentious really, and eyes everyone around, surely… your parents still run this place, he wonders, do you ever come visit?
“It’s so… quaint.” Comes Samantha’s voice next to him, running her fingers along the dusty bar, grimacing, she’s as tall as Satoru in her heels, perhaps one of the few women who he doesn’t tower over. All models were pretty tall, but typically he still had a couple inches, but Samantha was the best in her field, and maybe longer legs than Satoru Gojo himself.
“Yeah, I guess compared to LA.” He murmurs, the surroundings oddly comforting, despite how much he thought he’d hate it here. Something about shivering in the cold and then coming to this warm, bustling bar was…
Homey.
It gnaws at him, as people recognize him, and they begin to all come up, many who used to pick on him. He clings to that pretty model of his tighter, putting on a bright grin and lowering his black Gucci shades, the two of them are decked out in Saint Laurent and looking like a million bucks. Even in public, you had to make sure you were dressed to kill.
“Holy shit…” Satoru sees Suguru and Shoko then, their mouths drop as they come up to him. He's spoken to them a little here and there, but overwhelmingly has not said much since college was over. “Look at you two!”
“Look at you, all preening like a peacock.” Shoko rolls her dark eyes, sipping on a drink as she assesses him and his ‘girl’ who is clinging to him, laughing far too fake to ever be taken for as genuine, grating on his nerves.
“How cute, townies!” Samantha says, tossing blonde hair back, and Satoru scowls over at her.
“Who’s the snob?” Suguru asks boldly, making her gasp as Satoru’s muffling his laughter.
“Be nice.” Satoru warns, hands in the pockets of his red dress pants, a ruby so bright and bold it’s ridiculous for a place where people wear jeans and flannels.
“They’re not nice, Gojo. I don’t like it here!” She’s stomping her feet, and Satoru sighs, shaking his head.
“Go get a drink, hmm?” He turns her and smacks her ass, she cringes then.
“Myself!?”
“Become immersed in the small town, it’ll be good publicity, sweets.” He winks as she pouts and saunters off, ignoring the men and at one point hissing at one.
“She’s on drugs or…” Suguru trails off, and Satoru snorts.
“She’s definitely on a good Adderall / Xani combo. Shit… I missed you guys.” He ruffles Shoko’s hair, and shoves at Suguru good naturedly, Suguru smiles a bit, dark hair even longer than Satoru remembers.
“Sure you did. Come back to visit?”
“Uh… no.” He peers at his phone, sighing now. “Our suite for whatever reason isn’t available, I was stopping here and going to call Mom, since I have no reception whatsoever.”
“Why would you bring her to your mom’s, doesn’t she suffer enough with you as her kid?” Shoko earns Satoru sticking his tongue out, picking up the phone and dialing.
“Toru, sweetie!” Satoru sighs, he loves his mom, but to this day she really treats him like a child, even now.
“Hey mom, cool if I stay a few nights? I have a modeling-”
“You’re coming home!?” Satoru winces, pulling back the phone as Suguru and Shoko laugh.
“Yeah, if it’s-”
“I’ll make your favorite, baby, triple stack pancakes with sundae-”
“No, no, too many carbs.” He hears his mom’s sigh of disappointment, and clenches his jaw just a bit, looking over to see Samantha taking pictures of herself on her fancy phone, throwing up a pose now. “I guess yeah, I’ll eat pancakes.”
“My baby, oh I can’t wait, let me get started now!” His mom hangs up, and he can’t help but feel that fondness, the emptiness he’s had for so long just the tiniest bit filled by her voice.
“She’s excited.” He muses, sighing then. “I need a drink.”
Suguru and Shoko eye each other, and Satoru’s blue eyes narrow, studying their odd expressions. “Yes, you should, bartender she’s amazing.” Shoko’s smiling, and Satoru’s lips purse a bit.
“Hmm, guess I’ll see. I’ll be back.” He pats their shoulders again, heading over and passing more and more familiar faces, gosh none of them left, huh?
He leans against the bar, poking around on his phone as he hears Sukuna, asking then -
“Lunch sometime?”
He snorts, eyeing the tall, big man who used to torment him, now eye to eye with him, and damn near his size. Sukuna blinks in surprise a bit when Satoru eyes him with humor.
“Lunch is friendzone territory, ouch.” Sukuna glares now, fists clenching on the bar, and that’s when…
You see him.
Satoru Gojo.
“Maybe I like lunch.” Your voice shocks him then, he eyes you, wide blue eyes going to the face of the girl he loved.
Your face.
You’re so pretty it makes his heart thud out of his fucking chest, you’re just like you were, maybe a bit more mature looking now, but god it was like a blast from his past, the ultimate memory of you couldn’t compare. You’re so beautiful, this fucking glow around you still, that comfort he has been craving hitting him in one instant, as he just stands there.
Satoru Gojo, who got whatever girl he wanted, was just standing there, staring at you, with his lips parted, you are heating up under his scrutiny, unsure of just what he was thinking, biting that lower lip a bit and shifting. He notices now, that you’re not fawning over him, drooling, like women did, if anything you’re glaring just a bit, your jaw set.
“I… you… here…” He can’t compute a fucking word - stupid, stupid - why did you reduce him to pathetic again, after all these years!?
“Yes, I work here again. I know, it’s not what I imagined either.” Your soft, devastated words attack him, making him feel like you punched him right in the gut, as Sukuna raises a brow at Satoru.
“Friend zone, did you just say that?” Satoru’s sputtering now, before clearing his throat, shutting his eyes and taking a breath.
He’s not some ‘nerd’ anymore.
He’s Satoru Fucking Gojo.
He smirks and leans against the bar, eyeing you slowly, pulling off pretentious shades that make you miss his tortoiseshell glasses. But when those piercing, swirling blue eyes hit you, trailing like Sukuna’s had, you feel so shy suddenly, so nervous around him, after so long. Surely he was looking down at you, surely he was so high and mighty that your life seemed sad to him.
You stand a little straighter now, while the two men, who have changed so much, both eye you, a blast from fucking high school if you ever saw one. “Look at you…” He murmurs your name softly, like a caress- shit his voice is deeper, it’s so sure, so cocky and conceited, not the sweet boy you miss. “You look great.”
“Thanks, so do you.” You manage softly, he’s in some suit worth as much as your year of work you’re sure, open with a vest showing of chest muscles, fuck he has red silk gloves, it’s so ridiculous you almost laugh.
He’s gorgeous but…
Who is he really?
“Working here again, huh?” He means it to be casual, but the way it comes off makes you straighten your shoulders, as Sukuna winces.
“All that money, all those women and you never learned.” Satoru scowls at Sukuna now, while you turn away, giving him a view of a body he’s dreamed of, fuck you’re even sexier now, those jeans sitting just right, is none of you not perfect, not beautiful?
“What can I get you, Gojo?” You ask after grabbing another beer for Sukuna, who takes it with a smile, and he tenses at that.
Gojo.
When did you ever call him anything but ‘Toru’?
But, you all are literally strangers now.
“Martini.” He says, earning Sukuna’s snort, Satoru’s scowl heads his direction once again as you start to get the ingredients together, shaking it up in the gold shaker like a pro.
“Little bitch drink.”
“Beer is disgusting, fuck that.”
Sukuna glares as he sips the drink, and you pour Satoru his martini, garnishing it and giving a small smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “One martini.”
“Thanks, sweetheart.” You falter, at his soft voice, at the way he says everything as if it were some caress.
“You’re welcome.” He hands you far too much money then, making you blink. “It’s only ten bucks.”
“Keep the rest, love.” He winks now, and you feel your face heating up, did he think you needed it so badly? Does he pity you?
Does he care?
“Thanks… um, sure on lunch, Sukuna.” Satoru’s teeth clench, like watching history repeat itself. “Even if it’s ‘friend zone’ I’m fine with meeting up.”
“Perfect, here’s my number…” He writes it right on one of the pretty white napkins, and you take it carefully. “I’ll be in town all week.”
“Alright, sounds good.” Sukuna tips you, not the exorbitant fifty dollars Satoru just handed you, but a twenty, with a little nod of his head, as he passes Satoru now, and Samantha comes right up to him.
“Oh look at you, all star for the-” She’s flirting but Sukuna ignores her, winking at you and making you want to giggle, but you barely hold it in. “So rude! Gojo, can we please leave this shitty little bar?”
You scowl right up at the tall, beautiful model who pouts over at Satoru, clinging to his arm, he stiffens, but you see it, clearly they’re… together. “The ‘shitty little bar’ is owned by my family. And you are more than welcome to leave.”
“Oooh, you’re feisty.” She’s giggling psychotically, using her hand to make a clawing motion. “Rawr!”
“The fuck…” You shake your head, sighing as you set back to work, Samantha’s hands running down Satoru’s chest, irritating him to no end.
All he can see is you, and you’re just turning away, the girl he…
He left.
He left you.
No word, no goodbye, and he thought maybe it wouldn’t feel like this, maybe after eight years and endless women in his bed, he could stop feeling like this, stop the love he had. He tried to chalk it up to puppy love, you were the nicest person to him, of course he developed feelings, right?
Wrong.
He watches as you head out from behind the bar as Samantha’s going on and on about some Instagram post, downing the rest of his martini. “We’ll leave in a minute, go wait in the car.”
“I can’t believe we don’t even have a driver, ugh!” Satoru blinks at her, turning her now, watching as you stop and talk to Suguru and Shoko, smiling so sweet, lighting up the whole fucking room.
“I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Oh fine but…” She drags him down by his tie, whispering in his ear then- “I can suck you while you drive.”
What would once excite him doesn’t compute, he just nods and pushes the crazy woman to the entrance of the bar. “Sure whatever.”
“No pictures, please.” She throws on her sunglasses, as curious people wonder just what this woman is talking about, and Satoru feels your eyes on him then, his catch yours across the room. He watches you tense, as he steps closer, and Shoko and Suguru depart, giving you both one moment.
“Hi.” He manages to say, and for once, the pretentious rich model reminds you of him, the boy you grew up with, the one you miss so badly it feels like he’s a dream.
“Hi.” Your soft voice ends him, you’re shifting side to side, Satoru towers over you, making you feel so small then, as he presses a hand against the wall over your head, tilting your chin up with his other hand. Your eyes go wide then, breath catching, heart hammering.
“I’d love to catch up, I am here for a few days, I’ll be at mom’s.” You blink a bit then, looking down, gently taking his hand off your chin by his wrist, the contact making you both pause. For a moment he pictures it, kissing you, making every move he failed at in high school, taking your lips over.
He pictures so much, up to and including you under him, shit maybe now he’d have a chance with a girl like you, maybe he could taste your sweetness, could inhale that vanilla body spray you somehow wear eight years later. Could show you pleasure he bets you never got before, cock aching just being in your presence, he has to will it to go down.
“Your mom, I just saw her.” You ease his hand down, back resting against the wall just a bit, hair falling across your shoulders, you gasp when he brushes it back, another move he had tried and failed at back then.
That night should have been his first kiss.
You should have been his first everything, fuck.
“Could we do dinner or drinks?” His tone reminds you of what he said earlier, so you smile, a little mean glint in your eye.
“Maybe lunch.”
“Lunch!?” He’s glaring, thin white brows lowered, and you giggle.
“Coffee?”
Shit.
“Or is that too ‘friend zone’ for you, Gojo.” Satoru blinks a bit, hand falling, barely brushing your shoulder when it falls, you try to ignore how good it feels, he tries to act nonchalant, not like the fucking world is faded, aside from you. That the entire bar is just an echo, it’s just you.
And you’re furious, he can feel it. “No, no I mean it’s fine. If you want… coffee we can do coffee.” He can’t believe he’s saying this, he brushes his white locks back, winking down then. “We can do whatever you want.”
“Uh huh. Well, coffee then, if you want to catch up I’m surprised, considering it all though.” Satoru’s jaw clenches just a bit.
“I’d like to catch up.” You soften at his first vulnerable statement, the first thing that feels real. “How about in the morning, are you staying nearby?”
“I’m living with my parents for a couple months.” He frowns at that, you suddenly feel so insecure, a rich model right in front of you, just as he said that day- that he’d make it, and you all…
Would just burn out.
Maybe you did.
“Oh, you are, is something wrong?”
“Helping them a bit, big teacher layoffs nationwide.”
“You teach?” His smile is finally genuine, as you nod, so shyly, his shoulders relax, as his hands slip in his pockets once more. “You always wanted to.” Your eyes shoot up to his now, swirling beautiful blue, a hint of the sweet boy you adored.
“You remember?”
“How couldn’t I…”
“I figured you forgot us all.” Satoru gulps down the guilt, as you manage to pull yourself together, sighing. “Come by my parents in the morning, if you remember where they are.”
“How can I forget, it’s across the street.”
“All right then… I look forward to it.” He awkwardly leans down, as you wrap a friendly arm around his waist, inhaling his cologne, much different than the boy who wore axe body spray and always sucked on lifesavers. His hard body against your much softer one feels a little too good, when he rests his chin on your head.
Nothing has ever felt better than holding you in his arms.
Memories swirl for the both of you, but it’s different, Satoru seems like some bold and pretentious stranger, but for a moment you remember. You remember crying in his arms, over this breakup or that, you remember his sweet hugs during study sessions, you remember laughing and watching the dumbest movies. You exhale just a bit, as a big hand presses the small of your back.
Satoru missed you.
He doesn’t say it, he can’t say anything, pulling back and looking at you then, hand coming to cup your face, opening his mouth to speak when Samantha starts shouting “I’m bored Gojo! I’m so bored!”
The entire bar turns her direction, you fall back a bit, as Gojo internally curses, seeing the brat that is his partner crossing her arms in that fur coat. “I’m coming okay, shit!”
“Your girlfriend is bored.” You’re giggling then, you can’t help it, covering your face as Samantha glares.
“Not my girlfriend, jesus. Um… okay, the morning.” You nod, walking off now, past Samantha, who hisses at you like the psychotic bitch she is, making Satoru grimace with Suguru and Shoko walk up to Satoru.
“You fucked that intro up.” Suguru says, snorting as he puts his arm around Shoko’s waist, and she’s laughing.
“Fucked it up bad.”
“Oh like you’re any help.” They just shake their head, eyeing Satoru’s screaming model bestie.
“See you in eight more years.” Suguru’s words sting, as Satoru feels it then, the guilt eating away at him, but Samantha won’t shut up long enough for him to process, he drags her out into the cold, chilled air, seeing you climbing up into what appears to be your SUV, your eyes flicker to him for just a moment, before you shut the door.
“You like townies hmm? Can’t stop eye fucking girl next door.” Satoru’s eyes make even Samantha falter then.
“Who I like is none of your fucking concern. In.” He plops down in the rental, an audi of course, god forbid Satoru Gojo or Samantha would be seen in anything less, on that they are the same.
“You’re so cranky, she’s hot, just… gives those girl next door vibes.”
“Yeah well, she was the girl next door for me. Almost.” He feels her hand now, trailing over his thigh, she leans over and laughs in his ear, making him cringe. “How’d I get stuck with-”
“Let me make you feel so good, should I suck little Gojo?”
“Little Gojo!? It’s not little, Samantha.” He shoves her off, and she pouts again, crossing her arms.
“How’d I get stuck with you is the question, no fun. Now we have to go stay in poorville.”
“It’s the fucking suberbs.”
“Poor. Poor. Poor. Boring, boring.” Satoru almost pushes her out of the goddamn car, no blow job would be worth it, even if it would shut her up for a moment, even if his cock twitches thinking of you.
He pulls up to his home, his mother already has it opened when he walks up, hugging him tightly, kissing his face all over and making him wince. “Mom…”
“My baby, I never thought you’d come home.” She’s got tears in her pretty blue eyes, she visits LA once a year or more, but now the way tears fall from eyes that match his wracks him with guilt.
He could have come back at least once, right?
No, no he couldn’t.
“And this is…”
“Samantha.” She shakes his mom’s hand, tossing back long blonde locks and smiling. “You have such a quaint little home.”
Satoru’s mom blinks rapidly, brows together, this wasn’t a small home, it was four stories and lovely, left to them from Satoru’s dad, but he supposes to a rich, spoiled brat like Samantha, it’s ‘quaint’. “Um, thank you, and you’re staying too?”
“Unfortunately.” Satoru’s mom raises her brows, as Samantha clings to Satoru once again, grinning.
“I get to meet the mom, huh? I’m so special-”
“Let’s eat.”
Satoru finally leaves a snoring, annoying model brat Samantha alone in the guest room, when he walks inside his childhood room, frozen. Time has been frozen, his mother hasn’t changed a single fucking thing, up to and including pictures of you and him all over the walls. He gulps down his emotions, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click, undressing carefully.
He sees his old nerdy ass sweater, one you’d gotten him, still folded on his desk, like he never left. His fingers brush the fabric, as he stares at his reflection, feeling like he’s a ghost in his own room. The connections start to build, the mirror he kissed that night, the endless photos and mementos he kept. He eyes that box now, opening a letter carefully, crumbled and faded ink.
My Toru, I hope you have the best day, I can’t wait for the movies!
Toru, can you believe how the year has flown by!?
Do you want to go bowling Y or N
Your new glasses are so cute I love them!
Bad day today, sorry I’m quiet.
Tears fall down his cheeks, he only notices when the blotches form on the ink, all the times you’d write to him every day, passing little notes in class with hearts all over them, brightening his day. He’d kept every single fucking one, and there were so, so many in this tin box, stuffed inside like all of his fucking feelings.
He wipes his eyes quickly, shaking it off, pulling out his luggage with his own clothes and getting dressed in sweats for the night, curiously pushing on the cd left in the player, sighing then. Your favorite song, it’s that mixed CD he was making you, the one he never gave you. Satoru quickly turns it off, the button a resounding click, walking to the corkboard littered with you.
Knock knock knock.
“Come in, mom.” She does just that, peeking her pretty face, still so young looking, so sweet as she smiles at him. “You didn’t change any of it.”
“No, I always hoped you’d come back, at least for a day.” She walks up to Satoru now, seeing the photos he’s staring at now, Satoru and you sipping a milkshake together with two straws, in the middle of a diner. “You two were so sweet, she’s back in town you know.”
“I know… I’m seeing her in the morning.” His mom’s eyes light up, and he laughs a bit. “Don’t get excited, my life isn’t here mom.”
“Part of it will always be.” She cups his face, smiling up at him. “I hope you have fun with her, she has kept in touch all these years you know.”
“She has?”
“Yes, she… misses you. She asks about you when she visits town.” Satoru blinks back emotion, turning away now, clearing his throat.
You asked about him after all this? After he'd gone out of your life for good? What if he just heard you out, what if he…
“I’m tired, mom.” Mrs. Gojo nods, a hand on his back for a moment.
“Good night, Toru.”
“Night.” He lays in his bed, phone blowing up, his agent with details, a coordinator for the show, friends from LA teasing him on having to come back home, but he quickly turns it off, holding a photo of you, the only one he brought.
He gently touches it, sighing, wondering…
Will you like him now, could he be good enough?
While you lay in bed, tossing, turning, fuming damn near at Satoru Gojo’s audacity, sitting up finally, putting on Satoru’s favorite song, on that mixed CD you had been making him, before he disappeared. Your childhood room is the same as it always was, littered with photos of you and Satoru, your best friend that just disappeared, and came back a different person.
You touch a photo, one where he’s grinning so big with his cute little braces, holding up a science award, and you’re so overcome with emotion you have to hold back your tears, touching the polaroid gently. Was that boy in there somewhere, the boy you knew, the one who deserved the world - he seemingly got it of course.
Would he find you so boring? He hung out with celebrities, he walked runways, he’s clearly got a beautiful - batshit insane but- girl on his arm. Was it some pity, did he feel bad you were in a little bar? Your mind can’t handle it all, as you plop down in your childhood bed, mind racing.
Who was Satoru Gojo now?
Ah why'd I tear up when Satoru goes home? Next part we see just how coffee goes lol
taglist #1- @pinkyvomit @saitamaswifey @kachowness @vraiao @artbligh @psychoartiste @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @bsenpai @simp-for-wanderer @rjreins @emonaculate @myahfig4 @casua11ycrying @psycren @blushedcheri @ureuphoriasworld @frozenmallows @kanaojacksonofc @rcveriees @xlilycoco @yukimaniac @sypnasis @tokina @sharkubi @tztuoo @hyori2 @yesdere @gradmacoco @gamerhere @seikamuzu @xinsonyax @vvaoo @angie420 @ria54sworld @blue-musingss @mysticmyth @asimpinamillion @arabellasolstice @ilovebeansyay @notme000 @emochosoluvr @iv-vee @heh123321 @fushikamo @danilovesboba @spookyy-gracee @satorusleftnut @clqxuds @femaholicc