Part one: Infinite Rewind
Synopsis: A decade later, Gojo has finally caught up with you. Weddings take a lot of planning.
Word Count: 8.6k
(Warnings: flashbacks to gore, not healthy trauma coping, thats all tho! pretty wholesome compared to last time)
Some things about him had changed within a decade, while others stayed the same.
Even taller than you last saw him. His hair has been styled, no longer ivory chaos. You can't see a single blemish or mark despite the decade of fighting curses. He's as flawless as the first day you met him. No glasses; the entirety of his blue keeps you still.
You've seen this Satoru before: Suguru's memories, with glassy eyes, ruffled ivory hair, and an empty expression. Seeing such beauty yourself when you're standing right in front of him, it's breathtaking.
Even the lights of Tokyo couldn't compare to him.
You say nothing. You can't. Your mouth is dry and pointless. You're not even sure where to even begin. In front of a God, your insecurities pile up all over again. Is he disappointed by you? How could you explain everything that you put him through? Your mouth opens, you think you're about to speak: an apology, a plea, anything-
"—You're late!"
His hands reach up to squish your cheeks together. It was so unexpected, you squeak.
And Gojo Satoru is pouting.
It's a wave. The ocean of anxiety, guilt, and fear crashes into the shore. You feel nothing but indignant rage at the brat who clearly hadn't matured one damn bit.
"I'm not late!" You hiss back. "If anything, you're the one who's late. I was—"
You're cut off by his laugh, light and happy.
He isn't offended by your outburst; he's overjoyed about it. His cheeks are dabbed with pink, and his lips are so wide that he's showing his teeth. Your anger wanes when he pulls you into his chest, arms circling around you. You can smell his cologne when he buries his face into your hair.
"There you are. Finally." He melts into you like butter. "I missed you, Greeny."
His voice is soft, quiet, and sincere. You can't do anything but hug him back, allowing him to sink.
"I missed you, too." You whisper.
He hums. Apart from the wind, it's quiet. He's clinging onto you as though he's afraid once he lets go, you'll disappear forever. His behavior is justified. You were constantly meddling with his life before whisking away. Just this once, you allow him to keep you within his reach, letting the cat catch the canary.
"This is sweet 'n all. But we're actually getting late." He mutters. "Also, we gotta do something about your clothes."
"Hm?"
One moment, you're atop the Tokyo Skybridge; the next, you're standing in an upscale boutique.
Satoru skips away from you. Meanwhile, you're frozen, brain scrambling to catch up with what happened. Teleport. He can teleport now.
"Mr. Gojo, sir." A voice calls. An older woman smiles at him.
He gives her a casual wave before gesturing over to you. "Mind giving this one a dress? It's a black-tie event. We don't have a budget."
The woman turns to you with a smile. "Of course, sir."
What?
Dazed, you pliantly follow the woman into the back of the boutique. Her hold on you is gentle as she ushers you through the hall with one hand on either side of your shoulders. When you look back, Satoru is waving with a wide grin. The door shuts behind you.
"Do you have any preferences?"
You turn back to the woman. She's still smiling. You can't tell if it's genuine or customer service. Perhaps both.
Did Satoru not like what you're wearing? When you look down, it makes sense. Your time on the tower wasn't kind to your hair, not to mention your clothes. This morning, you'd just thrown on the first thing you saw.
This morning. That felt like centuries ago.
She's still waiting. You give a trepid smile.
"Anything," you say, "anything as long as it's cheap. I'm not exactly swimming in cash."
She gives a confused look. "Oh, but Mr. Gojo is paying, isn't he?"
Was he? You had no idea what was happening, much less what he had just said. She returns to her usual smile.
"If you have nothing in mind, let's see here..."
Some time later, your usual clothing was removed and replaced by something satin and long. It was a pretty dress that fell right to your feet. A set of women also flitted in and worked on your hair and face, putting everything back in your face so that you looked more human and less cryptid.
"What do you think?" She asks, looking at you through that mirror.
Pretty, you looked pretty. But when you looked closer, no amount of make-up could remove that look in your eyes.
When you step back out, Satoru is waiting with a tapping foot.
"Finally!" He exclaims, standing up. He doesn't acknowledge the dress, probably because he's seen himself in better. "Thanks, Hana. Okay, let's go."
"Go?" You prod. "Go where? You—you still haven't told me what you're even doing—"
It's no use. He grabs your hand, instantly warping you away from the boutique.
You're outside. There's people everywhere. In the distance, you can see a crystal glass dome. The sun was still in the sky, which was strange because you remembered watching a sunset not too long ago, unless you weren't in Japan anymore. To prove it to yourself, you check your phone location. Yakima, Washington. What the fuck.
Was this some type of torture, him flitting you from continent to continent, all in a ploy to punish you for something? You give him a pleading look.
"Just tell me what's going on—"
"Nuh-uh." He grins. "It's a surprise! Besides, you'll figure it out soon enough. Now, I gotta' go. Stay here, be good, and find the panda!"
And then he's gone.
You always knew he was insane, but this is ridiculous, even for him. To leave you in the middle of nowhere, that asshole.
There is no one you recognize in the crowd, but they are all walking towards the dome, so you meekly follow. What did he say? Find the panda? It had to be a metaphor of some kind, or perhaps there was a panda statue you needed to wait under.
And then you see a panda on two legs walking and talking with a group of teenagers.
Seriously, what else did you expect?
Feeling like you've just aged five years, you approach the group. Including the animal, there's five. They all look like 14-16 years old. You feel like you're in high school all over again when they glance over at you. The girl looks particularly unimpressed.
"Hi." You look at the panda. Maybe it's a really good costume because no one else looks shocked. "Satoru said I should find you...?"
One of them seems to get the code. The one with black hair and puppy eyes perks up.
"Ah! Are you 'Greeny'?" Did he tell everyone about that nickname? Didn't you tell him it was supposed to be a secret? Though, it doesn't really matter anymore.
"It's not my actual name." You say before introducing yourself.
He gives a nod. "Okkutso Yuta." He bows. What a polite kid. "This is my friend, Inumaki Toge."
The kid with half his face under his scarf gives a wave. You smile.
"Just Maki." The girl steps in before she gives you a once-over. "I like your dress."
"Oh, thank you!" You say happily, "I love yours as well!"
She looks away, but you have a feeling she has a hard time taking compliments.
"I'm Panda." The panda fucking says, and no, it isn't a costume, but you're too tired to ask at this point. "Nice to finally meet you."
When the final kid says nothing, Panda reaches over and wraps a furry hand around his shoulder.
"And this is Fushiguro Megumi! He's shy." Panda says cheerily. The boy flusters under his weight.
"Get off." Fushiguro gripes.
"Don't mind him." Maki rolls her eyes. "He's just throwing a tantrum because his sister couldn't make it, and he's gonna have to socialize with people instead of hiding behind her."
Fushiguro glares, but he doesn't respond to that. He just gives you a nod, and you decide these are good kids. At the very least, they're all way better than that brat Satoru.
"So, why are we waiting out here?" You ask, peering around.
"The doors haven't opened, yet," Okkutso kindly relays, "we're just waiting out here until everything is set up."
"If they're taking this long, then they should at least ask for help." Maki crosses her arms. "We've been waiting out here for at least thirty minutes."
"At least there's food." Panda tries to assuage.
"Salmon," says Inumaki.
"They're serving salmon out here?" You give him an incredulous look and he waves his arms around.
"Bonito flakes." Inumaki says. Okkutso tries to come to his rescue.
"Inumaki can't speak anything but food items because of his curse-" Maki quickly yanks him down by his collar frantically. Fushiguro is whispering something in his ear. You watch them go back and forth before it clicks.
"Does it have something to do with his technique?" You ask, curiously.
They stop squabbling.
"Oh, our bad. Sorry 'bout that." Panda gives a sheepish grin. "We didn't think you'd know about jujutsu sorcery 'cause...well. Your cursed energy is really low."
"Super low." Maki agrees.
"Salmon."
"Even lower than Maki's." That earns Panda a punch from her.
"Thank you," you dryly say, before you turn back to the building.
"What's going on in that place anyway?"
They all give you an odd look before they look at each other. Did you say something wrong?
"Did Gojo-sensei not tell you anything?" Okkotsu asks.
You allow yourself to leak some bitterness. "Satoru just dropped me on the sidewalk before teleporting away. He never tells me anything.
"That sounds like him." Panda nods.
"Idiot," Maki says.
"Such an idiot," Fushiguro says, and now you feel bad for Satoru.
"Our sensei's getting married today." Okkutso supplies. He points at the dome.
You don't get why you didn't realize it sooner. You knew these kids, at least Okkutso, Maki, Panda, and Inumaki. They all showed up on the very last day Geto Suguru died. Okkutso, in particular, had fought and defeated Suguru.
These were Gojo Satoru's students.
You think back to the last time you saw Satoru. He didn't look like a groom, but he's an eccentric guy. You wondered what kind of person would put up with him for the rest of their lives. You pitied them.
"Oh." You frown. "His wedding? I—I would have at least brought a gift."
"I don't think he'd mind," Panda said, "besides, you didn't even know!"
You still felt a bit guilty.
"We didn't bring anything either," Fushiguro states, and it helps just a tiny bit.
"When the ceremony begins, you can sit with us," Okkutso tells you, "we're supposed to keep an eye on you, anyway."
"You're not talking to a dog." Maki grunts.
"Oh no I—I didn't mean to be offensive!" Okkutso backtracks. "It's just—well, Gojo-sensei's been talking about you for a while, and we want to make sure everything goes smoothly and we were all really excited to meet you so—"
He keeps rambling like that until Inumaki pats his shoulder. You laugh, amused.
"I wasn't offended or anything." You tell him before his words sink in. "Wait, Satoru talks about me?"
"All the time." Maki responds, an edge to her voice. "'Greeny this', 'Greeny that'."
"We usually tune him out when he gets like that," Panda says, "honestly, we didn't even think you were real until just now."
"I always thought 'Greeny' was an inside joke Gojo-sensei and Haibara-sensei had," Okkotsu admits.
Something warm bubbles in your stomach.
"So," Fushiguro speaks, "how do you know Gojo, anyway?"
You didn't know the story Gojo told them so you simply keep it vague.
"I knew him as a kid."
It's Panda who gets the most excited about this.
"Really? What was he like as a teenager?"
"A brat." You instantly respond, and then you think a little more. "But I don't think that ever changed."
They ask you a couple more questions about Gojo's high school days. You oblige, thinking this as payback for how Satoru dropped you here without saying anything. You don't know how long you spend out there, airing out Gojo's younger days while his students get increasingly giggly.
Okkotsu is the one who notices the crowd is moving.
"I think they opened the doors." He smiles. "Let's go, everyone."
You follow behind Maki, admiring the architecture. It's a grand building. Sparkling crystal glass lets the sunlight bleed in. The decoration was something else entirely. Small white flowers adorn the chandelier, and they cascade down the edges. Ice sculptures of angels greeted the guests. Live music was already playing. Satoru knows how to plan a wedding.
Maki finds you all seats. You sit next to her. Fushiguro follows you. Okkutso, Inumaki, and Panda take the seats behind you. While you wait for the guests to settle down, you pass your time, waiting for the students to bicker with one another. From your assumption, it looked as though Maki, Panda, and occasionally Inumaki butted heads with each other. Okkutso often served as the timid referee, trying to get everyone to calm down, which almost always made things worse. Fushiguro just elected to ignore everything.
"Are they always like this?" You lean over to whisper to him. Fushiguro gives a tired nod.
"Every. Single. Day." He's saying this from experience, but at least you get a show.
Everyone settles down eventually. The kids grow quiet when the music starts to swell. The indoor lights dim. It's starting.
You've never been to a wedding this grand before. There was a live orchestra. Women and men were dressed in baby blue, gently strumming away their cellos, violins, and violas.
It's how you miss Satoru's entrance. He's already standing on the altar by the time you look back. He's changed into something more formal. The suit and green tie fit him. A perfectly put-together beauty. As though he can sense your stare, he catches your eye and winks.
But why was he already up there? Shouldn't he be—
"Sensei's coming!" Okkotsu whisper-yells. Inumaki hushes him.
Everyone turns to face the door. You do, too.
Your heart stops when you see him.
It's all there. Black hair, but it's longer this time around. Of course it is, he's had years to grow it out. He's tall, he must've grown since highschool.
You don't think you're breathing when you watch him walk down the aisle. The music is low, barely loud enough to hide the click of his heels. He takes his rightful place beside Satoru, his best man. Satoru gives him a nudge, and Suguru shakes his head fondly.
Everyone turns to see Shoko's entrance. You should too, but you keep staring at him. How much he's changed since high school. How much he's changed since he waltzed onstage wearing a priest's outfit, filled with nothing but empty hatred for those he viewed as weak.
But he's not wearing that twisted monk costume. His eyes aren't dull and dead and bitter. There's no sickly faux smile on his lips.
Today, Suguru looks like the happiest man on Earth.
His eyes are wide and eager and sparkling purple beauties. He's 27, but he looks younger. The lines of exhaustion and heartbreak aren't so prominent. And you—and you—
You just sit there, watching as Shoko walks up to the altar, watching as they stand as bride and groom. His daughters, adorned in pretty blue dresses, stand right behind him, smiling so hard you're sure it hurts. The priest speaks. They say their vows. You can't hear a single word. It's like you're behind a glass wall, and you can see him, but you can't feel him.
When they kiss, everything comes back. The crowd celebrates. Satoru ruffles Himeno's hair. Nanako smiles wider. Behind you, Inumaki and Panda sniffles. Okkotsu hands them a tissue.
"It’s pretty." Maki comments. Fushiguro gives a hum of agreement.
ⴵ
Satoru finds you and the kids when you're waiting for the reception to start.
He appears behind you with a cheery, "And how are my lovely students holding up?" You almost spill your drink in shock.
"Sensei!" Okkotsu chirps. "Where's Geto-sensei and Ieiri-sensei?"
"Shoko's around; Suguru's taking a break," Gojo answers with a grin. "If you don't mind me, I'll be stealing this one for a sec."
He doesn't wait for an answer, steering you away by your shoulders. You look behind you. Panda waves. Fushiguro just looks even more upset. You wave back at them regardless.
"I can't believe you put your students out on babysitting duty." You tell him. "And what's with this wedding? There's no alcohol anywhere." To make your point, you take another sip of your apple juice.
"We have kids here. Kinda' have to make it alcohol-free," Satoru says.
"The bartender could ID them." You suggest.
"You think teens who fight curses daily wouldn't figure out how to get around that?" He grins. You frown at his frustratingly good response.
“What’d you think of them?”
“Hm?”
“The kids.” He urges. “What’d you think?”
Your brows scrunch. You have no idea what he means by that. Eventually, you take a breath.
“I like how...close they are.” You eventually say. “The bond they share. They care. I think each one of them will be good sorcerers.”
He’s silent, and you think you might have misunderstood his question.
“I learned that from you,” Satoru says, “keeping them together, making sure they can grow, get stronger, together. You were always so insistent on that, back then. I’m glad you were. It was one of the best things about you.”
You stare at him. Really stare. You’ve never heard him sound so genuine, so sincere before. You look into his crystal-blue eyes, wide and earnest. Part of you wants to take a picture, so you could keep it forever.
Eventually, Gojo successfully drags you to a less crowded area of the party. He looks around.
"Hm, he should be around here somewhere...?" Satoru hums to himself.
"Who?" You ask. That question answers itself.
Haibara Yu is waiting a little ways ahead. By now, the sun was starting to set. His brown hair turned gold. Gojo eagerly hurries you forward as he calls out to him. You stumble, still lost at what you're seeing.
"Guess who I brought?" Gojo sweetly sings, Yu-Haibara, he hasn't let you call him Yu yet-tilts his head.
He smiles, confused. "Oh? Hello!" He says cheerily. "Who's this?" He asks to Gojo.
"Guess," Gojo says.
Haibara stares at you, and you decide to give him a hint.
"Brocolli head?"
He gapes. It's almost the same reaction he had last time. Last time, when you had to convince him to kill you so you could go back in time to save Satoru.
"No way." He gasps. "Greeny?"
He doesn't remember. He wouldn't, why would he? Still, it's nice to see the innocence on his face, rather than the pain you saw last time. Right before he snapped your neck.
You think he was crying the last time you two saw each other.
In this timeline, Haibara is hugging you so tightly you think your head's about to explode.
"It's really you?" Haibara says, but his bear hug muffles his words. "“—I—I can’t believe it? It’s actually you! I thought I’d never see you again even though Satoru said we'd see you again one day, and—and then suddenly you pop up outta’ nowhere—not that I’m complaining— but—”
"Haibara." You plead. "You're suffocating me."
"Oh! Oh, I'm so sorry." He lets you go, and your lungs inflate again. "I—I'm just so happy! And—and you're a girl!" He says it like it's the most surprising thing about this whole revelation. Maybe it is.
Satoru is always needy for attention and whines as always.
"Wait, you two came up with a code word?" He complains. "That's not fair. We never did that."
"I mean, it was Haibara's idea." You point out. "You should be smarter next time."
That makes him frown even more. You laugh.
"Yu." Haibara suddenly says.
You turn to him.
"My friends call me Yu."
It's nice to know that no matter what timeline you're in, Yu will always remain stagnant.
"Okay, lover boy," Gojo says with a not-so playful bite, "keep your eye on this one for me, okay? Gotta' go do more best man shit."
Satoru's gone once again. You look at Yu.
"He's been running around since I got here." You tell him. "Does that man ever rest?"
"Nope." Haibara grins, before taking your arm. "Follow me; you should meet a couple of people."
He leads you through the crowd. You spot the teens moping about out of the corner of your eye. Panda and Inumaki seem to be in a push-up competition. Maki is egging them on. You wisely decide not to disturb them.
Yu drops your hand to wave to someone. There's no need for any kind of introduction for these people.
Riko and Misato Kuroi smile at you first. Miss Kuroi's aged beautifully since you last saw her. Wispy silver hair knitted seamlessly into brown strands. She never got that chance to grow gray hairs last time. You're staring so much it might be rude.
"Yu?" Riko asks and you think you're about to break because they know each other. "Who's this?"
"Uh, this-" Haibara chokes before looking at your awkwardly. Right, he doesn't know your actual name.
Come to think of it, Satoru doesn't know either. He never bothered to ask too. Probably on purpose. Ass.
You smile and politely introduce yourself. It takes everything within you not to scream and hug them both because in this timeline, they don't know you. They never did.
But you can change that now.
"Hello!" Riko beams. "I'm Kuroi Riko, but just Riko is fine! And this is my mom: Kuroi Misato."
She says that so plainly, like that had always been her name, like Miss Kuroi had always been her mother. You wonder how long it took for those two realities to become her norm. Or maybe it hardly took time at all.
"It's wonderful to meet you." Miss Kuroi states before she tilts her head. "May I ask how you know the couple?"
Haibara jumps in for you. "Um—actually, this is Satoru's date!" He fumbles.
You do a double-take. No, you technically weren't Satoru's date. But you technically entered the wedding with him. And he was the one who 'invited' you. Fuck, you were the brat's date. Damn it.
"Ah." Nanami cuts in for the first time. "So, you're the one Gojo won't shut up about."
His accusation sounds like Maki's, but less harsh. You wonder if he has a favorite student.
Nanami looks the most different from his high school counterpart. A new haircut, less slouchy, more tall and refined. He blinks at you, slow and calculating.
Sheepishly, you laugh. "Yeah...that's me....sorry."
"Don't be rude, Kento."
Ieiri arrives with a soft smile and painted features. She's changed out of her glowing gown, sticking to something small yet perfectly elegant: a short white dress that curls ever so slightly at the ends. Riko's the first to hug her, ecstatic. Ieiri hugs her back, too, because they've become friends in this timeline. The circles under her eyes are less prominent. Her smile looks more real. This isn't the timeline where she's had to bury her friend; it's the timeline she's allowed to marry him.
"Congratulations," you say politely once everyone is done cooing over her. She smiles at you, the way a stranger would.
Then, her head tilts.
"Sorry," she hesitates, "do we know each other? You...feel familiar somehow."
Ieiri was the first person you met when you activated your technique and returned to the past for the first time. She was the one who calmed you down, kept you grounded. In a way, you owed a lot to her.
Looking at her, you can see why Suguru kept her cigarettes in his pocket.
You shrug. "I must have one of those faces."
The attention turns back to her, her beautiful dress, pure and white and beautiful. You feel Haibara stare at you. You shake your head at him. It wasn't the time. Maybe it never will be.
"This really is a beautiful wedding," Mistato says when the conversation reaches a pleasant lull, "I can't imagine how much it cost."
She shrugged.
"Probably a fortune, but I let Satoru deal with the numbers."
Misato looks confused, and Ieiri laughs.
"He paid for everything." She gestures to the venue. "Suguru and I didn't have to fork over a single cent. It's the least he could do for being a pain in the ass for 12 years."
Damn, you knew he was rich, but you didn't know he was rich rich. Maybe you should consider being nicer to him. If you ask politely, perhaps you could get him to pay off your car loans.
"I'll get him to pay for my wedding too." Riko proudly says.
"He'd probably do it, too." Ieiri nodded along. "He offered, just like that. The only thing he was hellbent on was the date."
"The date?" You echo. Ieiri shrugs, messing with her laced sleeves.
"Said it absolutely needed to be on December 24th. Something about spirituality. I never listened to that guy's rants."
It comes to you immediately, but you're pushing it away. No way. Satoru wouldn't. There isn't a chance in Hell he would have convinced his friends to have the biggest day of their lives on the same day you were supposed to meet him.
No, of course, he would do that. Ass.
"So, how do you know Satoru?" Riko asks you. When she realized how rude it sounded, she backtracked. "I—I didn't mean anything by it! It's just...the guy only knows five people. When he spoke about bringing someone along, I thought he was joking."
"Same here," Nanami says. Haibara stifles a laugh, and you realize all of Satoru's friends think he's a loser.
Friends. Back then, he only had one of those.
"Um." You toss Haibara look. He shrugs. "We met a few years ago! But we just recently reconnected." That's close enough to the truth. Good enough.
You remember your blunder. You sympathetically look at Shoko.
"I'm so sorry I wasn't able to bring a gift," you say, "I was blindsided. Satoru barely gave me enough time to get ready."
You laugh, and you're hoping they laugh it off too. They don't, instead Shoko, Nanami, Riko, and Misato look at you. Then, they look at each other.
Nanami speaks first. He clears his throat.
"Did Satoru....abduct you?"
"What?"
"That sounds like him." Misato sighs, more exasperated than anything else.
Riko nods along with her. "We tried to teach him. Where did we go wrong?" she laments.
Haibara and Shoko laugh as you desperately try to defend your not-date date because he didn't actually kidnap you, but he did bring you here against your will and started dragging you along like some toy, but it's the context about that that matters. You wished they could've had a bit more faith in him. Poor Satoru.
It ends eventually. Ieiri excuses herself. Riko and Misato go too. You stay with Yu and Nanami, watching as they get into increasingly petty arguments. It’s hilarious how quickly Yu is able to bring the usually staunch and serious Nanami down to his level.
Sometime later, you find yourself roaming the balcony. The party roars on indoors, laughing, talking, cheering. It was chilly outside, you should go back in within a few minutes. You just needed a break from the action.
The sun had already gone down, by then. You were somewhere out in the country. The buildings sparsely dotted the horizon. There were no artificial lights. It meant the stars could shine as brightly as they wanted to, with no one to stop them.
You hadn’t seen Satoru in a while. You had no idea where he’d run off to. It didn’t matter; you knew he’d eventually pop out of a box to harass you again.
But now that you had space for yourself, you needed to think.
You rest your hands over the rail, looking up at the stars. There were so many out tonight.
You fixed the future. You changed everything. Does that mean you still needed to tell Satoru about the past timeline?
You promised him answers the next time you two met. You promised him an explanation. He waited ten years for that. You pinch at the fabric of the dress.
This future that you carefully built, crafted with your own hands. It’s delicate, a glass castle.
It’s justice, but did that make it right?
“Want one?”
The voice makes you jump.
He stares at you, leaning against the rail. Purple eyes, mirroring the starry sky.
You knew these eyes, for a while, they used to be yours.
You stare at him. Then, you stare at the cigarette in his inviting fingers.
Your fingers twitch.
“No—no, I’m fine.” You smile. “Actually, I’m trying to quit.”
“Ah.” Suguru says, lighting it up before bringing it to his lips. “Shouldn’t tempt you, then. Pardon, what’s your name?”
You can hear your heartbeat. It’s loud, right in your ear. You wonder if he can hear it too. Are his curses around? Can they smell it? Your blood? Are they still as ravenous as the last time, eager to tear and fester and eat—
“It’s Greeny,” you say, “you can call me Greeny. ”
He hums in approval.
“Geto Suguru,” he says, “though I’m pretty sure you already know that.” You both share a huff of laughter.
“My fiancé quit a few years ago.” Suguru starts, mentioning the cherry-red cigarette. “Thought I’d follow in her footsteps, but here I am.” He shrugs before he winces.
“Wife, sorry.” He corrects. “I still can’t believe it.”
The monsters come out to play their song. You close your eyes, forgive Suguru, and you die once more.
You smile at his tone. He sounded like that 12 years ago, when he was still just a kid. Full of soft wonder.
“I’m guessing you’ve been planning this for a long time?” You ask.
He shrugs. “Shoko did most of the work. This is all thanks to her, really. Unfortunately, I was too busy managing the school.”
“I heard you were a principal?” You prod.
Suguru nods, “Our current one recently retired. I’m trying to follow in his footsteps.”
You think of Principal Yaga, the one with sunglasses and a stern expression. He looks a lot like Nanami in some areas. But he acts more like Suguru than anyone you ever knew.
And you knew Suguru; you knew him as well as yourself.
The screams start up again, and you forgive Suguru.
“I can tell you’re already making him proud,” you say, “I met your students. They’re good kids.”
He smiles, soft, gentle. Those used to be your smiles.
“They are, aren’t they?” He repeats back, “some of them had a rough beginning, but it all worked out somehow.” He hums. “I’m glad.”
His daughters, the ones standing beside him as he kissed his wife, wide eyes and even wider grins. They didn’t have the darkness in their faces. The bitterness. Like they did in the last timeline.
You were glad, too.
This death is a lot more painful than the others.
The curse that's holding you is more intelligent than its predecessors. It keeps you alive, tearing at your skin, feasting on your flesh. Blood is everywhere. You scream until it rips out your vocal cords. It's almost a mercy to just die.
You forgive Suguru.
“It sounds like you’ve had personal experience with that sort of thing.” When he looks at you, you quickly say. “Your eyes. I—I can see it. I’ve always been good at that sort of thing.” You knew Suguru. His eyes matched yours.
He doesn’t look offended. Suguru takes a minute, reaching up to his black locks. He removes the elastic, pretty black hair falls down his shoulders He’s grown it out since high school. It reaches his waist.
He eases himself back onto the rail, looking up at the stars. You follow.
“Yeah, I do,” he’s saying, “I think I know what it’s like being them at that age. Alone, isolated, slipping down a rock. Drowning, but no one can see it.” Ingested. Exorcised. Ingested. Exorcised.
“When I was younger...it was really hard. Some days, I was so full of hate and anger. The pain was a lot. Sometimes, I had this despicable idea that it was someone else’s fault I was like this. Someone innocent.” He laughs, bitter.
“And, on those days, I would often feel something.”
You look at him. Suguru doesn’t stare back, eyes lost in the stars.
“Sometimes, it’d be a voice. Other times a small nudge on my shoulders, pushing me in the right direction. Once, it was a hug, keeping me from doing something that would’ve changed my life forever. And it would be just a bit more bearable, like I wasn’t so alone.”
You can feel your heart in your throat. Your fingers grip the railing.
“What did you think it was?” You expect hate, disgust. You want to give yourself a reason.
You forgive Suguru.
He takes a moment, coming back from heaven. His eyes find yours.
“I’m not sure.” He admits. “I’m not religious, but I always liked to think of it as—”
An angel. A hand of God. A higher power. It doesn’t matter what Suguru said, you knew what he meant.
A part of you always wondered why Suguru would return to Jujutsu society, when he wanted nothing more than to run from it. You expected him to retire. Instead, he took the reins of the beast, wrangling it down. Now, you get why.
“That’s why you’re a teacher now,” you say, “so you could be the same thing for your students.”
He nods, and you think of Maki. You think of Okkutso. You think of Panda. You think of Fushiguro. You think of Inumaki. Suguru must have been there for Maki, even when her own family wasn’t. Suguru must have helped Okkutso control his technique, being the only one who could. Suguru, must have made these kids better than they ever possibly could’ve been. Fighting for them instead of against them.
“Sorry.” He blinks. “I—I didn’t mean to get so sentimental. It’s been years since I thought about my own highschool years.” He laughs, voice full.
“You’re just...really nice to talk to.” He hums. “I don’t think I can explain it but it’s...familiar somehow.”
You look at him. He’s older, but in some ways, he hasn’t really changed. Even now, when you look at him, you see a reflection of yourself.
“I can see why he likes you.”
“Who?” You ask when he brings you back from your thoughts.
“The idiot.” But he says it so affectionately, so lovingly, you can’t help but smile. “I saw him dragging you around earlier. Sorry about that. I would’ve stepped in but...” He trails off, thinking.
“It’s been a while since I saw him like that.”
You hadn’t noticed anything about Satoru. He smiled just as brightly as he did in highschool. Now, you wonder if this was the first time in a while Suguru had seen that side of him: carefree, no longer The Strongest.
It hurts. It hurts so much. Blood seeps into the pavement. You can hear the curse laughing. It sounds like him.
You forgive Suguru.
“Are you and him…” he trails off.
“No.” You laugh. “No, I’m his….childhood friend. We just haven’t seen each other in a while.”
“Oh?” He tilts his head. “How long has it been?”
You decide to be honest. “Ten or so years, give or take?”
He whistles.
“No wonder he’s bouncing around like a yipping puppy,” He says, and you can’t help but agree with the analogy.
“In any case.” He leans over the railing. His cigarette is down to its last embers. “I hope you stick around. A friend…I think he needs more of those more than anything.”
You stare at him. Those purple eyes. You can see what Shoko sees. You can see what Satoru saw all those timelines ago. They only ever saw the light, the gentleness, of Geto Suguru.
You are the only person in the world who knows him.
He’s killed people. He’s killed you. No matter how much logic or justification or pain was involved, the blood of the innocent is still sticky. It still drips across the pavement, scarring the sidewalk in red. It still hurts.
When Suguru would kill you, you’d force yourself to forgive him. You needed to die without regrets, because the pain of hatred builds up, you’ve seen it happen firsthand.
But now that you’re free, what Suguru did to you wasn't fair. Just because his innocence was taken away doesn’t give him the right to take the lives of others. It never gives anyone the right to murder. You keep telling yourself that this Suguru and that Suguru were different…but they weren’t. Not really. The look in their eyes matched perfectly.
He’d do it again, in the right conditions.
And yet.
You forgive Suguru.
You can’t judge him. If there is a God, maybe Suguru will have to pay for the crimes he committed all those timelines ago. You can’t save Suguru from that. But to you, the debt is paid.
Besides, you’re too tired to hate him. And you won’t allow yourself to fall into the same cycle he struggled to break free from.
You look into his eyes. Then, at his ring. You smile.
And that's enough.
“I will,” you say, “I will.”
Then, as two parts of a whole, the two of you stare at the stars for a little while longer.
ⴵ
The reception was nice. A fancy dinner, you can’t remember the last time you ate something. The speeches were beautiful, especially Shoko’s. You swore you saw Nanami shed a tear, but you never said anything about it.
You saw a glimpse of white hair in the crowd before the first dance began. Stunning music. The couple must have practiced for months. Bride and Groom, husband and wife, held hands and looked at each other like they were the only ones in the room.
Megumi stood beside you, watching Ieiri and Geto sway to the music. As though the kid could sense him, Megumi’s serene face sours. You’re about to ask him what’s wrong when there’s a tap on your shoulder.
“Cute, huh?” Satoru starts, mentioning at the dance. “It didn’t look this put-together in the beginning. Shoko gave him a ton of bruises,” he says with a shit-eating grin.
You frown. “Shouldn’t you be doing something else than gossiping about your friends?”
“I am! I’m checking up on my son!” And then he turns to Fushiguru. “Megumi!”
“No.” Fushiguro instantly rebukes.
“Don’t mind him.” Satoru chides. “He’s going through an angst phase.” Fushiguro rolls his eyes, but he shifts just a tiny bit.
“Y’know, he was actually supposed to be the flower boy, but he refused. Such a shame, the pictures would’ve been something else.” Gojo sighed and now you’re convinced they aren’t father and son.
“That was never going to happen.” Fushiguro says, and as if he thinks you’re naive enough to believe Satoru, he glances at you. “Never.”
“Of course not.” You crack a smile.
You watch as Ieiri descends into a graceful spin, Geto taking the lead. When he tips her over, your eyes soften.
Gojo leans over; you can feel his breath in your ear.
“Next year.” He whispers. “For us, it’ll definetly be next year.”
You jerk away but he’s already skipping off, having the audacity to call out a cheerful ‘toodles’.
“What did he say?” Fushiguro questions.
That’s what you wanted to know, too, but you were so tired, and the night was so long, and you couldn’t bother to get out your Gojo translator and figure it out.
“The same stuff he always says. Nonsense.” You decide on. Fushiguro takes the answer.
“I don’t understand how he has all that energy.” You mutter, watching Satoru disappear through the crowd.
“I thought he’d get better with age, turns out I was wrong,” Fushiguro says.
“I wanted to ask,” you start, your eyes still on Ieiri and Geto, “how do you know Gojo? Aren’t you still in middle school?”
“Everyone knows Gojo. He’s pretty famous in the jujutsu world.” Fushiguro shrugs. “But personally...he’s my benefactor. Took me and my sister in when my parents left.”
You look at him. And you feel like an idiot.
He’s the spitting image of his father. Sharp cobalt eyes. Black hair. Fushiguro Toji is all over the young man.
Gojo Satoru, the one who killed the sorcerer killer, took care of his enemy’s children.
“What?” Fushiguro asks when you’re smiling
You shake your head. “No, no it’s nothing.”
Satoru told you that you’re the one who taught him about the importance of bonds. But you think he should take some of the credit too.
ⴵ
Eventually, everyone gets on the dancefloor.
It’s a mess. Absolute chaos. Panda and Inumaki are trying and failing to do the waltz. Maki and Okkuttso are lightly swaying to the music. They’ve managed to get Fushiguro up there too. Though, he doesn’t look extremely happy.
The adults are even worse. Apparently, the retired principal Yaga is a pretty good dancer. You think one of them found alcohol, because Haibara looks absolutely wasted. He’s swinging his arms around, almost hitting the other guests. Nanami is trying to get his attention, but the guy wants none of it. When Haibara catches your eye, he wildly waves in clear invitation.
You smile back, but you shake your head. You think he’s about to come up to you, but something else catches his eye, and he’s grinning at a very irrated-looking Iori.
You were sitting on a chair, just people-watching. It was a nice break from everything. To listen to the music, lightly tap your feet, play with the frill of your dress. You weren’t really in the mood to dance.
Besides, you weren’t technically invited here anyway. It’d be rude to just burst on the scene.
“There you are! Been looking all over for you!”
You don’t have to look over to see who it is. Satoru slumps down in a chair next to you.
“Greeny, you gotta’ do something about your cursed energy. It’s so weak. Like finding a needle in a haystack.”
“Thanks,” you say dryly.
“Always happy to help.” Satoru beams, and then he glances over at the floor.
“We’re dancing after this song, by the way.”
“Absolutely not.”
“It’s so cute you think you have a choice, Greeny.”
You frown. “There’s no point in calling me Greeny anymore. Unless you still don’t know my name.”
“I do, but it doesn’t matter,” Satoru says arrogantly. “You’ll always be my Greeny to me.”
You roll your eyes. Even now, he’s a brat. You thought all these years would mellow him down just a tiny bit.
“So,” you start, “are you done with your ‘best man shit’?”
“Yup.” He announces. “Now, I can sit back and enjoy the show.”
You smile, but you can still feel the butterflies in your stomach. He’s been running around so far and it’s given you time. Now, that he’s free, it means you two have to talk.
And you aren’t sure if you truly want to.
You flex your fingers.
“Um, how have you—”
“Stop.” Satoru interrupts. “Let’s not make this awful, Greeny.”
You nod immediately, relaxing. His voice gets softer, after that.
“I’m glad you chose that color,” he says, “I was sorta’ hoping you would.”
You look down at the dress. A deep green. You hadn’t even thought about the color, the boutique lady had basically thrown it at you.
The shade of Satoru’s green tie matches your dress. You can feel your smile again. Typical.
“I’m glad I did too,” you honestly say. And then, you continue to fiddle with your fingers. Ultimately, you decide to just bite the bullet.
“I thought you’d be mad.” You finally say, words jittery and unfocused. “Angry at me for...for what I did.”
He’s silent, and you feared that it was all true. The laughs and the jabs were all a facade.
"I don’t think I was ever mad." He responds, staring into the crowd. "Hurt, yeah. Then, it faded into something that stung everytime I thought about it, and then...something else. And now, I know it's a waste to get mad because you're finally here now. With me."
His tone pitches upwards as he reaches over to painfully pinch your cheek.
"'Sides, I know you can't escape me anymore, Greeny," Satoru cheerfully says, "Now, I know your face, your name, and with little effort, I could probably find your address, your social security-"
"Okay! Okay!" You pull away, rubbing your cheek. Damn, he's scary. "Threat acknowledged."
"Good!" He straightens himself back up, and you find yourself slumping again.
“I am sorry, though,” you say, “for leaving like that. I...I always wished I could do that a bit differently. You deserved better.”
“Don’t do that.” He shakes his head. “Don’t blame yourself for only doing what you could. It eats at you, Greeny. It really does.” He sighs, leaning forward in his chair.
“You deserved better too,” he says back, voice barely above the music, “I always had some regrets about those years. I thought I could’ve done more to help you, back then.”
There it was again: selfishness, the urge to do good to others while retaining that greed. You supposed you taught him that.
You put your face in your hands.
“Even though, you dragged me here against my will, I feel so guilty being here.” You complain, hoping it’ll lighten the mood. “You should apologize to everyone because I crashed the party.”
Satoru scoffs. “What are you talking about? Everyone loves you!” He exclaims. “Look, Yu’s ecstatic. Riko won’t stop gushing about you; you even have Nanami’s approval! I don’t even have that!” You roll your eyes, sinking back in your seat.
“Besides, you needed to come. You needed to see it.”
“See what?” You ask.
“This.” He points to the venue, the ballroom full of glittery whites and sparkles.
“Look around, Greeny. Look at all the people you saved.”
Haibara and Riko are dancing together. Two dead children finally had the chance to grow up. Misato speaks to Nanami. Beautiful gray hair, eyes that aren’t so tired. Shoko sparkling in her dress, and Geto—
The same day he was supposed to die, Suguru was getting married.
“Thank you.” When you look at him, Satoru is staring right at you. His sea eyes give everything and more.
“Thank you for saving all of us.”
Your heart skips, then just stops completely. You can’t cry, you won’t not here, not on such a happy day. But your eyes are stinging. And Satoru is turning blurry.
And then, like Satoru always does, he ruins the moment.
"Did you just fall for me a little?"
His head tilts. That same mischievous, irritating smile lights up on his face.
You relax, laughing out of disbelief. When you speak, your voice is barely scratchy. "You're so full of yourself; it's actually a little cute."
"You think I'm cute?"
"Did you hear anything else that I just said?"
"I heard you think I'm cute,” Satoru responds proudly, and you doubt he’d ever let you hear the end of it.
“And besides! Today is supposed to be a celebration for you too!” He exclaims.
“Oh really?”
“Yes,” Satoru says proudly, “you did it! You became a fully-fledged sorcerer. Considering your low CE, you might pass as grade four, but when I talk to our new principal, I’m sure he’ll make things right. Get ready to join be and him in the big leagues.”
You could read between the lines. Satoru wanted to tell everyone. You think a while ago, you might have agreed, but...
“Can...Can I quit being a sorcerer?” You ask. “I’m tired.”
He takes a second. Some of you wonders if he’ll try to talk you out of this. It’s more beneficial for him if you stay as an asset to the jujutsu world. How many people’s lives will be saved by a technique like yours? To be able to go back in time again and again and again. To die again and again and again.
“Someone once told me that it’s okay to be selfish every once in a while.” Satoru looks at you, eyes like lilies once again. “I won’t fault you for it. I don’t think anyone will.”
When you try to smile, it feels wobbly.
“That person sounds smart.”
“Nah.” He grins. “An idiot, actually. Way too oblivious.”
You laugh, despite the insult.
“Quit,” Satoru says when it’s quiet again, “do whatever you want. But...you can’t run away, okay? I won’t let you.”
It’s barely a touch. His hand reaches for your fingers. You’re the one who grabs it.
“I won’t.” You promise. “I won’t.”
He’s satisfied with that. You can tell when he squeezes your hand back.
You look at him, and you decide you won't tell Satoru what happened in the last timeline.
There's no point. It wouldn't do anything but shatter everything he worked so hard to make. Why would you break the glass when you could just add concrete, make it stronger? You saved everyone. A few white lies here and there just keep this future safe.
And you know this Satoru. If you told him, he'd carry that burden with you like the soldier he was. You don't want him to do that. You don't want him to have the same look you see in your own face. One last sacrifice.
When you come back, Satoru is shifting in his seat, uncrossing his legs.
“So...about that dance?”
“Ugh, fine.” You stand up. “One dance. And if you do anything embarrassing, I’m leaving.”
“Clearly, you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” He grins, standing up himself.
He doesn’t release your hand for the rest of the night.
You don’t mind.
(When you disappear again, Maki’s the one who finds you.
By then, it’d been long into the night. Shoko and Suguru were already gone, off to their honeymoon in the Maldives. Riko, Misato, and most of the students were sleeping off the night. Maki, his most diligent student, was helping the remaining adults pack up the venue.
She’s dragging chairs away when she grunts in Satoru’ direction.
“By the way, your date’s sleeping outside.”
Ah, you were on the balcony. No wonder he couldn’t find you. Satoru needed to do something about your cursed energy. What’s the point of having six eyes when he can’t even find the one person who’s evaded him for a decade?
You’ve completely passed out. Slumped over on a chair, head bent at an angle that could not be comfortable. Satoru knows he should feel bad. He dragged you around the entire night like a ragdoll. This was partially his fault.
He can’t really blame himself, not when you were finally here.
It still feels like a dream. Being able to hear your voice, not Suguru’s, not Yu’s. Your touch. Your eyes. Your face. Your laugh. For years, he’s wondered what it sounded like.
Reality beat even his perfect daydreams.
Seeing you up there on the Tokyo Skytree. The wind pushing your hair back and forth. It was breathtaking.
Even the lights of Tokyo, couldn’t compare to you.
He leans down, lips at your ear, voice low because he’s too prideful to let anyone else hear, not even you.
“I know it’s too late, but you looked really pretty tonight.”
You say nothing, but you shift, murmur something in your sleep. It’s all he needs.
He ditches the clean up party, taking you within his arms. He thinks he says something to Yu, but Satoru doesn’t really care if he heard. Right now, he only has one priority.
Tonight, he’ll sleep on the hotel’s pull-out sofa while you snooze in the luxurious queen-sized bed. You’ll probably be mad in the morning, something about how you should’ve taken the couch, but he doesn’t mind your mindless acts of selflessness.
He’s waited a decade. He deserves to keep you.
And he knows you won’t fault him for being selfish one more time.)
love that trend of “your boyfriend takes away your ability to walk and then goes off and does whatever” and that’s toji
you’re face down in the sheets, covered in sweat and ecstasy with your legs still shaking and your head still in the clouds. you don’t even notice him leave the room and come back until he pats you on the leg.
“hey”
you hear and feel him, but you can’t bring your body to move or react yet.
“hey! hey baby, wake up.”
you lowly hum and he huffs, turning your head to face him and he sees your eyes blinking in an attempt to wake up.
he pats your cheek, getting rougher in each hit to get you to wake up.
“hey baby come on, i’m hungry and we don’t have shit here to eat.”
he finally pulls your head up and that’s when you’re able to fully open your eyes, blinking at him and then pouting.
“toji…tired…”
he laughs and pats your cheek again when your eyes try to blink closed again.
“nah come on, get up and i’ll treat you to some tacos.”
you smile at the promise of food and then whine.
“can’t move my legs, pick me up?”
he huffs again before picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist for you.
“i spoil you way too much, baby”
“well, if someone didn’t fuck me hard enough to take away my ability to walk, you wouldn’t have to carry me now would you?”
he smirks before smacking your ass, making you whine again.
“well, if someone wasn’t actin like a fuckin brat, they wouldn’t have gotten what they deserved.”
₊˚ʚ 🌱 little sunshines au. masterlist
a jjk au where domestic fluff and parenthood are the main tropes.
fluff‐parents au. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ non sorcerer/curse au, domesticity, use of nicknames for the babies (nugget, mochi, squirt), mom!reader, mentions of pregnancy
all kids remain unnamed, apart from the already existing ones
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ ‐ɢᴏᴊᴏ sᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ
head of the gojo clan. after marrying his wife, he locked her in his estate with him. she ended up popping three healthy babies in the span of five years.
notes:
his precious mochi consist of two boys, aged 5 and 2 years old, and an eight month old baby girl—the three of them look like satoru
your two boys are huge fans of 'fishies'
kiss it better
something's fishy
mama's day
crybaby
—
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ ‐ɢᴇᴛᴏ sᴜɢᴜʀᴜ
the geto residence had been nothing but a girly sanctuary for the past few years. suguru, as the only man, faced a harsh reality check when the latest addition to his family, a baby boy, stole the hearts of every girl in his home.
notes:
suguru is so used to handling girls that he's still a bit lost with his little boy
the baby wants you all the time, and suguru is a little sad that he's not being favored
joyride
—
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ ‐ғᴜsʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ ᴛᴏᴊɪ
his biggest nightmare came true once his baby girl began to talk. she keeps him on his toes, a little princess that easily empties her daddy's wallet by asking for toys—expensive ones.
notes:
your baby girl wants to do everything you do: hair, makeup, nails. toji grows a gray hair each time she demands to get her tiny toes painted like mama
tsumiki (6) likes to say that the baby (2) is her doll, and little megumi (4) makes sure his puppies watch over his baby sister while she naps
!! technically speaking, toji's still a zenin + megumi and tsumiki are yours. so they'll be referenced as the zenin's/zenin kids !!
strawberry shortcake
copycat
—
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ ‐ʀʏᴏᴍᴇɴ sᴜᴋᴜɴᴀ
his home has not known peace ever since his wife gave birth to their twins, a boy and a girl. he barely made it out of the 'terrible twos' unscathed, but now that they're three and way more talkative, he's starting to reconsider his life decisions.
notes:
the boy is a menace, always play fighting with his dad, while the girl is shy and cries around him
both toddlers get pretty calm and soft around you. sukuna says you hexed them
!! for the sake of the plot, sukuna is jin's brother, making him an itadori. choso and yuuji are step brothers (choso is kaori's son) !!
uncle yuuji
ugly mornings
mall santa
—
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ ‐ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ ᴋᴇɴᴛᴏ
preschool teacher with a concerning amount of patience. all of the kids know him because he's their art and crafts teacher, a very popular class among the children.
notes:
first grade (2-3 year olds): itadori twins, gojo's youngest son, and zenin's youngest daughter.
second grade (4-5 year olds): gojo's eldest son, megumi, and yuuji.
third grade (6 year olds): tsumiki, nanako, and mimiko.
first day
summary you and jason's casual hook ups grew into three tiny humans that look a hell of a lot like him.
word count 2.9k
the first time you told jason you were pregnant, it was in the dim glow of your bathroom, hands trembling as you held out the test. the stark + on the stick felt like it was branding itself into your brain, your breath coming shallow as you tried to process what this meant—what this changed.
jason had been standing in the doorway, shirtless, sweatpants slung low on his hips, hair a mess from sleep. you had woken him up when you bolted out of bed to take the test, too anxious to wait another second. he had followed, rubbing his eyes, muttering a groggy, “babe, what the hell—?” but when he saw you frozen there, test in hand, he didn’t need to ask. his whole body went still, the teasing dying on his lips as his eyes flickered between your face and the test.
neither of you had planned for jude. hell, you weren’t even technically together. what you had was easy—casual. a thing with no strings, no expectations. but now?
now there was no ignoring the weight in the air.
jason’s throat bobbed as he stepped forward, his hand brushing against yours before carefully taking the test from your fingers. he stared down at it, a muscle in his jaw twitching, and you braced yourself for—what, exactly? for him to freak out? for him to leave? for him to do the only thing he’d ever been taught to do and run?
but then he looked up at you—really looked at you. and what you saw in his eyes wasn’t panic, wasn’t regret. it was raw and unspoken, something deep and certain. and in that moment, you knew—neither of you would run from this.
somewhere along the way, between the nerves and the chaos, between doctor’s appointments where jason held your hand and whispered snarky commentary about the ultrasound tech (“babe, i’m pretty sure they’re just making up measurements at this point—no way her head’s that big”), between late nights where he passed out on your couch after spending hours assembling baby furniture (“if i have to put together one more goddamn crib rail, i swear to—”), between shopping for tiny onesies that made him laugh—daddy’s little sidekick, future vigilante, property of the batfamily—and bickering over baby names (“we’re not naming her that, jason.” “sofia is a good name, babe.” “sofia falcone, jason.” “...fair point.”), the two of you became something more.
it wasn’t something either of you sat down and talked about. there was no defining moment where jason said, i love you or where you asked him to stay. but he did stay. more and more often. he was there every step of the way—hands steady on your waist when your balance wobbled, lips pressed against your stomach in the middle of the night when he thought you were asleep.
by the time jude was born, there was no more pretending.
she came wailing into the world at 2:37 am, her tiny fists curled tight, her face scrunched in protest at the audacity of being born. you were exhausted, barely able to keep your eyes open, but jason—jason looked at her like she was the most incredible thing he had ever seen.
"she’s perfect," he murmured, voice thick, eyes shining in the dim hospital light. his hand, rough and scarred from a lifetime of fighting, cradled her impossibly gently as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.
and in that moment, as he gazed down at your daughter, his daughter, you knew— you were his. and he was yours.
a year later, you found yourself in almost the exact same spot—bathroom light buzzing faintly, pregnancy test clutched in your hands. only this time, the panic wasn’t there. this time, you knew.
jason walked in, still toweling off from his shower, his hair damp and messy. he barely got a glance at your face before his gaze dropped to the test in your hands. his lips parted slightly, processing. then, slowly, a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"no shit."
your only response was a breathless laugh, nodding as you turned the test toward him. positive.
jason ran a hand through his wet hair, exhaling sharply before he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. then, without another word, he left the bathroom.
"jason—?" you blinked, confused, before chasing after him—only to find him already scooping up jude from her playpen.
"c’mere, sweetheart," he murmured, settling the one-year-old easily onto his hip as she clapped her chubby hands against his cheeks. he turned back to you then, mischief dancing in his eyes as he lifted jude higher.
"guess someone’s getting a sibling, huh, jude?" his voice was soft, warm, and he booped her tiny nose with the tip of his finger.
jude squealed in delight, kicking her feet excitedly, oblivious to the weight of the moment. jason laughed, a full, genuine laugh that filled the apartment, and all you could do was shake your head, the emotion in your chest bubbling over into laughter of your own.
this time, there was no fear—just excitement.
colby was born nine months later, red-faced and screaming, but jason swore up and down that she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
"she’s so damn tiny," he marveled, cradling her carefully in his arms, as if she might shatter.
you, exhausted but exhilarated, watched as he gently ran a thumb over the wisps of dark hair on her head. he looked different this time—less shocked than he had been with jude, more sure of himself. comfortable.
he had been a good dad with jude, but with colby, he was something else entirely.
the first time he held both of them together, jude pressing sloppy kisses to colby’s soft forehead while jason kept a steady hand on her back, something in your chest clenched. you had fallen for jason during your first pregnancy, but now, watching him with your girls, you realized something deeper—he was meant for this. for fatherhood. for this life with you.
and when he caught you staring, one arm wrapped around jude and the other securely holding colby, he only smirked.
"what? you wanna go for three?"
you had rolled your eyes, laughing, "let’s survive two first, todd."
the third time, it wasn’t planned—not really.
you and jason had settled into parenthood in a way neither of you had expected. it had been messy, chaotic, and full of sleepless nights, but it had also been good. damn good. jason, despite his gruff exterior, had turned out to be the kind of dad who let the girls paint his nails, who read them stories in funny voices, who carried them on his shoulders like they were royalty. he loved being a dad—he loved them.
but three? a third baby? you hadn’t seen that coming.
jason had been too busy wrestling a three-year-old jude and a two-year-old colby into their clothes for a trip to grandpa bruce’s house to notice how quiet you’d been.
"c’mon, guys, work with me here—jude, put your arm through the hole, not your head—colby, stop wiggling!" he groaned, exasperated as the girls shrieked with laughter, making a game out of escaping him.
jude was giggling so hard she nearly toppled over, using her half-put-on sweater as a cape as she ran circles around the living room. colby, ever her partner in crime, had already ditched her pants, throwing them over her head like some kind of victorious gladiator.
jason sighed, shaking his head as he rubbed a hand down his face. "they get this from you, y’know!"
he barely managed to get colby’s shirt over her head before they both took off, giggling as they ran toward your shared bedroom.
"hey—where do you think you little gremlins are going?!" jason called after them, but they were already gone, their tiny feet thudding against the hardwood. he groaned, pushing himself up from his crouched position, rolling his shoulders as he followed after them. "babe, i need backup—these two are insane today."
but when he stepped into the room after them, ready to tag you in, he froze.
you were sitting on the edge of the bed, hands gripping something so tightly your knuckles were white. your face was pale, like you’d just seen a ghost.
jude and colby, still shrieking with laughter, clambered onto the bed, bouncing excitedly. but jason barely registered them.
"hey… what’s wrong?" his voice had lost its teasing edge, turning careful, concerned.
you finally looked up at him, and the moment your eyes met his, his stomach dropped.
you held out the pregnancy test with shaky fingers.
positive.
jason blinked, lips parting as his brain caught up. his chest felt tight, his pulse thudding in his ears. you were pregnant. again.
for a moment, neither of you spoke. the only sounds in the room were the distant hum of the city outside and the occasional giggle from the two tiny troublemakers on the bed. a thousand things must have been running through your mind, but jason—jason just looked at you.
then, out of nowhere, he let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head.
"jesus, babe—" he ran a hand over his face, then down to his mouth, like he was trying to hold back a grin.
before you could react, he stepped forward, grabbed you by the waist, and lifted you clean off the bed, spinning you around.
"jason!" you yelped, gripping onto his shoulders, heart hammering.
"guess we're just a little too good at baby making, huh?" he teased, laughter bubbling up in his chest.
jude and colby, not understanding what was happening but thrilled at the excitement, started clapping and cheering, tiny fists pumping in the air.
"do it again, daddy!" jude giggled.
colby, eyes wide with mischief, added, "spin me next!"
jason only laughed harder, finally setting you back down, his hands lingering at your waist. his face was flushed, eyes bright—not with fear, not with doubt, but with something softer. something real.
he pressed his forehead against yours, breath warm against your lips as his voice dropped, just for you.
"three, huh?" he exhaled, grinning, voice softer now. "looks like we’re really doing this."
your hands were still trembling, but the way he was looking at you—like he already loved this baby just as much as the other two—settled something deep in your chest.
"yeah," you whispered. "we are."
when mia came into the world 9 months later, she was loud, stubborn, and determined to make an entrance—just like her dad.
your pregnancy with her had been different from the start. harder. more exhausting. you’d brushed it off at first, thinking it was just because you were chasing around a three-year-old and a two-year-old while growing another tiny human. but as the months passed, it became clear that this time, things weren’t going to be as smooth as they had been with jude and colby.
you were further along than you should’ve been when the contractions started. too early. too soon.
jason had been the one to notice something was off first. you’d been brushing off the discomfort all day, pretending the tightness in your belly wasn’t getting worse, that the nagging ache in your lower back wasn’t making it harder to move. but jason knew you—he knew when you were in pain, even when you tried to hide it.
"babe." his voice had that sharp edge of concern when he found you gripping the kitchen counter, your breathing just a little too uneven. his hands were on you in an instant, steady and firm. "what’s going on?"
"it’s fine," you lied, wincing as another wave of pain rolled through you. "i think i just overdid it today."
jason didn’t believe that for a second. his jaw clenched, and without another word, he grabbed the keys.
"we’re going to the hospital."
by the time you got there, everything happened fast. too fast.
the nurses barely had time to get you settled before things took a turn. the pain sharpened, and suddenly, the steady rhythm of the baby's heartbeat on the monitor wasn’t so steady anymore. there were voices, urgent but calm, doctors moving around you in a blur. you barely had time to register what was happening before a nurse leaned down, her voice gentle but firm.
"we need to get your baby out now."
jason’s grip on your hand tightened, his thumb brushing frantically over your knuckles as you looked up at him, fear creeping into your chest.
"it’s gonna be okay," he promised, his voice steady even though you could see the panic in his eyes. he leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. "i swear, baby, it’s gonna be okay."
you barely got the chance to nod before they were wheeling you away.
jason wasn’t allowed into the operating room at first, and that nearly sent him into a rage. he fought it, argued, cussed out more than one doctor, but in the end, he was forced to stand just outside as they prepped you for the emergency c-section. the longest minutes of his goddamn life.
when they finally let him in, you were already on the table, barely able to keep your eyes open. jason sat beside you, one hand gripping yours, the other stroking your hair back as he whispered, "you’re doing so good, baby. i’m right here. i’m not going anywhere."
and then—finally—after what felt like a lifetime, a sharp, furious cry filled the room.
mia.
jason let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his head dropping against your shoulder as a shaky laugh escaped him. "that’s our girl," he murmured, voice thick with relief.
you barely had the strength to lift your head, but when they placed her against your chest, tiny and red-faced and still wailing, tears slipped down your cheeks.
jason had never looked at anyone the way he looked at you in that moment. like you were his whole world. like he had never loved you more than he did right then.
"you scared the shit outta me," he muttered, voice rough, pressing a kiss against your temple. "but you did it. you did so good, baby."
mia settled against you, her cries softening as she nuzzled into your warmth. jason reached out, brushing a fingertip over her tiny, delicate hand. she grabbed onto him instantly, her little fingers curling tight around his.
that was it. jason was done for.
"yeah, okay," he whispered, voice cracking as he smiled down at her. "i guess you were worth the heart attack, kid."
now, your home is chaos—but the kind of chaos you wouldn’t trade for anything.
laughter bounces off the kitchen walls, mixing with the smell of vanilla and the distant hum of the radio playing some old rock song jason swears he’s not singing along to. flour dusts the counter, smudged across tiny hands and jason’s cheek, and the entire room looks like a sugar-fueled war zone.
jason stands in the middle of it all, colby perched proudly on his shoulders with her little fingers tangled in his hair, directing him like she’s remy from ratatouille. her giggles ring out as she yanks at his dark strands, her feet drumming lightly against his chest.
"mix faster, daddy! like this!" she tugs his head forward, making his hands jerk as he stirs the batter, and jason barks out a laugh, nearly dropping the bowl.
"i swear, you’re gonna make me bald before i hit forty," he grumbles, but there’s nothing but love in his voice, his grin wide and unbothered.
below him, mia is practically vibrating with excitement, bouncing on her toes so hard she might launch herself into orbit.
"my turn next!" she shouts, little fists clenched in determination.
jason groans, feigning exhaustion. "one tiny dictator at a time, kid—"
but then, his eyes dart to the side, and his expression shifts.
"jude, do not—"
too late.
jude, standing at the counter with an air of absolute authority, dumps a heaping handful of funfetti straight into the bowl. the colors scatter like confetti over a parade, sinking into the batter as she watches with a critical eye.
"it didn’t look like enough," she defends, completely serious, like she’s just saved the entire operation from disaster.
jason lets out a dramatic sigh, tipping his head back against colby’s hold. "of course it didn’t."
and then he looks over at you, catching your eye with that soft, love-struck expression that still makes your heart stutter after all these years.
that look—the one he’s given you since the moment you told him about jude. the one that never faded, not through three pregnancies, sleepless nights, or the absolute circus of raising three daughters together. it’s the same as it’s always been.
you shake your head, unable to fight your own smile as you cross the room, scooping mia up into your arms before tossing her onto your shoulders. her delighted squeal echoes through the kitchen as she clings to your head, fingers gripping at your hair.
"alright, chef mia, you’re up next."
jason watches you, still smiling, still in love, and the warmth in his gaze is enough to make your chest ache.
the four of you stand there—him with colby in his hair, you with mia on your shoulders, and jude taking her role as funfetti overlord way too seriously. the mess, the noise, the laughter—it’s everything.
and as jason leans over, pressing a batter-dusted kiss to your cheek, you know—this is exactly where you’re meant to be.
breezy's notes: everyone is getting babies bc i have HORRENDOUS baby fever and refuse to procreate with the roaches in the world today. instead i give jason 3 daughters bc he's a girl dad in my head 🙂↕️ this took so long not bc i couldn't write, no bc i am a pain in the ass about the graphics and couldn't figure out a title.
tags ⋆·˚ ༘ *🔭: @deansbeer @daylighted @bluemerakis @ultravi0lence14 @beausling @jensenacklesballsack @starzify @cowboysandcigarettes @honeyryewhiskey @bejeweledinterludes @unfortunate-brat @deanswidow @novarosewood @cosmicfireheart @theendofthematerialgworl @wassup-summer @cowboysandcigarettes @arkhamsbrat @stereotypicalbarbie @buckturd @bookdaddysworld @treeteaofversailles
18+ MDNI, fem!reader
having this really specific — and kind of goofy — thought about getting a tiny rubber duck as like a joke gift for your boyfriend yuuji, and him making sure it’s turned around whenever you guys fuck in the shower.
you’re having a full blown make out session and the water is hot as it runs down you both — yes, you’re squeezed together that tightly. his pink hair is dripping wet, it sticks to his forehead, and his mouth has formed into this adorable ‘o’ shape as he pants and stammers and grunts from how good your touch feels as you stroke him.
he’s got one palm pressed against the tiles that you’re leaning against, the other one is cupping your pussy. his fingers lazily circle your clit as his tongue tangles with yours; the tips nudging your warm entrance every so often and gathering the sticky arousal there before it can be washed away by the water because he knows he won’t be able to push that fat cock of his into you otherwise when the time comes for it.
however, when that time does indeed come and you hint at getting slammed, yuuji is pulling back, his honey-coloured eyes suddenly open wide. he’s still breathing like he’s just ran a marathon instead of standing in the shower and his broad chest heaves up and down as he turns his head to the side in one sharp movement; right in the direction of the spot where you both keep your shampoo bottles.
“yuuji…? what’s wrong?” you ask, eyelids still heavy with lust. it makes your vision somewhat blurry.
“just a sec,” he rasps, searching amongst the bottles. “gotta make sure we don’t have an audience.”
“an audience?” you repeat.
“yep!” he says, popping the p. “i meant this little sucker right… here.”
after a little rummaging, he finds the thing he’s been looking for: a small rubber ducky that you’d gotten him months ago as a means to cheer him up after he’d had a particularly bad day.
you watch, brow quirked in quiet amusement, as he carefully flips it around then, making sure it remains in the same exact spot, but this time with its little beak turned towards the shower wall instead of you.
he treats it with such care, like it’s made out of gold instead of plain vinyl. knowing him, he probably does see it that way and it makes you huff a laugh.
he’s just so goddamn endearing, isn’t he?
seemingly pleased with his actions, yuuji swiftly focuses his attention back to you. he smiles that beaming lover boy grin that you feel weak in the knees for, and his hands are loving but firm as he grabs you by the hips, silently urging you to press your front against the tiles instead of your back.
“okay, your turn now.”
with how hard he is, something tells you he won’t treat you as gently as he did his present.
hear me out, what if odysseus and penelope instead of getting married of love they did it because it was their duty and they trusted each other as friends, they made an heir, telemachus, and that was it. of course they loved each other but not in a romantic way.
when the war starts one of the soldiers going with him is yn, a childhood friend who he still loves but never told her.
what would happen with their friendship/growing relationship? across the years.
I believe that after 'monster' he would become really overprotective of yn, and in 'love in paradise' he would ascend into another level of codependency with her.
YESSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!
WARNINGS: FLUFF, NEEDINESS, ALMOST UNHEALTHY CODEPENDENCY ON BOTH PARTS, LIGHT ALLUSION TO SMUT,
Y/n pov
~Morning, sleepyhead You've been resting for a while I swore that you were dead When you washed up on my isle Did you know you talk in your sleep? Tell me, though, who's she?~
"She's y/n, she's my... she's mine."
My eyes fluttered open, and I coughed up bit of seawater.
"Odysseus..." I mumbled softly. Immediately, he was by my side, pulling me into his side. I poked my head over his shoulder and found a jealous looking woman who came over and grabbed Odysseus, pulling him away.
~Anyways, I've got all you could want here All you could need here Just you and me, my dear, my love for life Soon, into bed we'll climb and spend our time~
"I'm not your man." Ody shook her off and started walking back to me.
~I'm what you want here I'm what you need here Just you and me, my love in paradise Now 'til the end of time From here on out, you're mine, all mine~ She purred swinging in front of him, blocking me out as she practically drapped herself over him. My captain shoved her off in a fury.
"Hell no, I could kill you where you stand
I'm no pet, I'm a taken man!"
~Oh handsome, you may try But last I checked, goddesses can't die.~
"I don't care! I can try! I don't want you, I want her!" Odysseus growled, grabbing my arm and practically dragging me off to a more secluded part of the island.
After everything that had happened, it was no surprise that Odysseus clung to the last reminder of home, but he certainly went through hell and back to make sure it was me, even sacrificing Eurylochus, his brother-in-law, to keep me. He had always been protective of me, but after the Underworld, he had changed, ruthless, cruel, but not with me, never with me. I, on he other hand, had been dependant on him since we were children. My father was the young prince's teacher and had allowed me to sit in on some of the lessons. we'd been inseparable ever since, but neither of us had realized just how deep that bond went until after we went to war. Since then, it had gotten worse... better... I wasn't sure. But we spent every night together, some nights it was just to hold each other, other nights we needed more, more intimacy, more physical comfort... more.
So here, on this island, with a desperate goddess, his neediness increased tenfold. As soon as we were out of sight, Odysseus buried his face against my neck, holding me against his chest with a strength that no mortal should possess.
"Ody..." I whisper, carding my fingers through his hair. He nudged against the crook of my neck.
"We're gonna get off this island." He purred, kissing my shoulder. I nodded. "And in the meantime... you're all I need. Mine, all mine."
Hi! New anon here (🦠). Won’t ask how you’re feeling because we’re all in mourning and in shambles, but what do you think Lottie would be like with a reader who’s an Antler Queen? Lowkey LottieNat-leaning, but reader was the one who got chosen, and now they’re in the spring, and Lottie is THE prophet while reader is THE queen.
Thank you!
Her queen
A/N: Hello my dears, I am back! (I think). This isn't the best of my works and my writing has some improvment to do after my hiatus, but I tried to make it make sense.
Also, let's all welcome dear🦠anon eveyone! I require a round of applause please. Enjoy!
Oh Lottie, the workshipper that you are.
That winter day, when the snow was raging outside and the cold seeped inside the wooden cabin, she consulted with It, asked It what they could do to survive the winter.
When she heard Its voice echo inside her ears, cold as the icy wind and hoarse as a murder of crows and as billions of ghosts’ whispers, she couldn't believe what It was asking, no, demanding of her. You, out of everyone?
That day, she questioned herself whether the Wilderness was real, or a figment of her own imagination. But an order it’s an order, and like the true devotee she is, she compiled.
When she came into the room, everyone’s faces looked harsh, distant, barely holding it together. The dance of light and shadows the fire projected into the room and onto their faces only added more depth to the seriousness of the situation. Had she been good at art history, Lottie could have confidently said that she had been transported into a baroque’s painting world. Or Victorian gothic, or whatever.
She couldn’t see you at first, not behind the bloody pulp of meat that was left in place of her left eye, not with you away from the center of the room, hidden in the dark, protecting yourself from what was happening. From what was about to happen.
You always looked so precious to her.
Natalie was always It's favorite, but you were always hers.
You were too busy drawing imaginary doodles on the floor, trying to do anything to forget this place to see her walking towards you. Her and your friends’ faces morphed into confusion, anger and jealousy as she arrived at your feet. Only when the fireplace’s lights were gone from your eyes, did you look up. Standing above you, the light shone around her, creating a halo around her figure. She looked almost holy to you, had her face not been shrouded in darkness.
“It chose”.
Adorned with an antler crown, you order, help and try your best to hold the group together.
You are a beacon of light, a hope inside the darkness. Someone she can count on, someone she knows will lead all of you to safety.
Lottie is utterly obsessed with you, even more so after you became the Antler Queen. She treats you like a god.
She gives you her share of the food, stuff your clothes with fresh medicinal herbs, kisses you goodnight every day, when the sun goes down, right in the middle of camp, in front of everybody. She looks up at you with love in her eyes, as if you were a gift the Wilderness sent her, for how good of a devotee she was.
Speaking of kisses. Charlotte, previous to the crash, had never been too much into public displays of affection. And, more than that, she never confessed anything about her little crush for you. But after everything went to shit, it’s like a cloud obscures her judgment. She had always felt this need to tell you, to come and sit down next to you and whisper in your ear “I like you”, but never had the courage.
That’s until the Wilderness itself made you their queen, and from then on, all her fears and doubts melted away.
On one of those afternoons when the air gets warmer and the light shines longer, she comes to you. You were sitting down on a log, letting time pass while you carved a figure out of wood. It’s something that always made her smile, how you could still cling to humanity in a place like this. She couldn’t. They couldn’t.
Since the evening was nearing, everyone was finishing up their tasks, sitting by the fire or losing track of time. You looked up to see Lottie’s gaze fixated down on you. “Oh, Lottie. Wha-” you couldn’t finish your words, because the moment you stood up, she took your face in her hands and leaned down to kiss you.
The more time passed, the rougher she had become with you. Her teeth pulled at your bottom lip, her tongue exploring your mouth, her breath heavy against your skin. All of that, in front of every one of your friends.
You couldn’t let yourself be seen by anyone for a while, especially because Lottie had followed you to your tent.
She follows you; no matter where you go, you've always got her eyes on you.
Resting inside your tent? Lottie peeks at you.
Hunting with Natalie? She gives you a protection token and prays for you while you are away.
Eating meat by the fire? She watches as your teeth sink into it.
You think it’s a little weird sometimes, but you know she means well.
And don’t get me started on the rituals.
They are divided into two categories: the ones that are performed in front of everyone, and the ones that only you two share. Despite the height of the experience of a group ritual, it's the private ones that are her favorite.
She wakes you in the middle of the night, when everyone is asleep and the air is cool. You follow her into the woods, away from the camp. She tells you that the Wilderness has asked her for a sacrifice tonight, and that that sacrifice is you. She tells you that It wants to hear you scream into the night, wants to feel you writhe above the ground it rules over.
So you sit on an old tree stump, big enough to let you sit comfy on it. Lottie slowly descends down your body, until her face is nestled right where you need her the most. Thanks to her height, she has no problems in placing your legs on her shoulders; hell, you are even slightly curved upwards because of it.
She dives right down, taking you between her lips, workships you until her name echoes between the trees. Under the spring’s moon and stars only you and her exist.
Only with you she can still be human.
You are her god, and she’ll be your servant until she dies.
When you get back to camp, you’re greeted by a tired Taissa sitting by the fire, with deep eyebags, looking at you as if she could kill you with her gaze.
“You should really keep your voice down…”.
Gwayne Hightower x wife!reader
Summary: the reader is approached by Criston Cole. Gwayne doesn't like the look in Cole's eyes.
A/n: this is a drabble to keep the writer's block away 😅 I'm still sick, but it's getting better slowly
Masterlist
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"Lady Hightower," Criston Cole approached the woman.
Y/n turned, her 6 month son in her arms. Her brows furrowed, "Yes?"
He stepped to her, and only then did he realize he wasn't sure why he did it.
She noted his hesitance and a worried expression came over her face, "Is my husband alright?"
"Yes," he quickly reassured. "He is fine. Just fine."
She nodded and let out a relieved sigh, "That's wonderful. Thank you."
He nodded too, an awkward silence overtaking them.
She shifted the baby in her arms. "I thank you," she finally said, "For your service to the crown."
Criston moved a step closer to her, "It is worth fighting for."
Her brows furrowed as she noticed his movements. "You've recently been promoted to the Hand of the King, I've overheard."
A smile came across his face, "Indeed. His grace truly blesses me."
Her patience began to turn to annoyance. "My father-by-law should be in Old Town by now. Hopefully with Daeron."
"Lord Hightower is a wise man. The crown shall miss his guidance."
Her head tilted as she studied him, "Indeed, it will." She forced herself to calm down, adjusting the baby against her shoulder once again.
As she did so, Criston took a breath, beginning to enter close proximity to her.
She looked up, his face closer to Criston's than she would've liked. "Ser Criston?"
"My lady."
"You're a loyal man, aren't you, Lord Hand?"
His eyes flickered over her face, "Yes."
She took a large step back and let out an annoyed sigh, "Quite loyal indeed." She looked around, "Where is my husband?"
Criston released a sigh of his own at his failure, "He should be coming back from the stables."
Gwayne did indeed step into the courtyard, a curious look coming to his eyes at the sight of his wife with the knight. The curiosity turned to worry when his wife immediately approached him when he came into her line of sight.
"Dear husband!"
He reached out and took his son from her arms, wrapping an arm around her waist. He leaned down to her ear, "What did he say to you?"
"I'm glad to see you is all."
He looked past his wife to glare at Cole. "You're sure?"
She reached up and caressed his face, pushing his messy red hair from his forehead and speaking with a soft voice, "Gwayne."
He forced himself to take a breath and calm himself. The baby in his arms let out a soft whine. He looked down at his son, gently rocking him back and forth. "Did you scare the bad man away, my son?"
Y/n smiled, "Well, having him surely helps."
"Not enough," Gwayne smiles. He leans down and kisses her cheek. "Perhaps I need to give you another."
Her cheeks flushed. "Gwayne," she scolded.
A bright smile came over his face. He continued his teasing behavior, "Shall I?"
"This is improper to discuss here."
"I am not offended," he said with his infamous smirk.
She feigned offense, "Give me my son."
She reached out to take him, but Gwayne turned away from her, keeping the baby close.
His wife giggled lightly, reaching out further, "Gwayne, give me my son."
"He is my son as well."
She playfully huffed. "Then we shall both pray to the Seven that he does not become as teasing as his father."
"Keeping a son from his mother, Lord Hightower?"
Gwayne lifted his head up, seeing Criston Cole walking to them. He cursed under his breath, "Lord Hand."
"You didn't answer my question."
Y/n sighed, stepping next to her husband and resting a hand on the baby in his arms.
Gwayne shook his head with a clenched jaw, "I wouldn't dare, Lord Hand." A satisfied smirk came over his face, "She knows I would never break apart a family."
Criston smiled in slight offense as he tried to laugh off the man's digs. "Yes, you're a perfect man. Aren't you, Lord Hightower?"
The two stared at one another for a while as the tension grew.
"Excuse us, Lord Hand," Y/n finally interrupted, "But I'd like to welcome my husband back properly."
Criston forced a fake smile to his face, "Of course, my lady. How rude of me." He looked at the two, then the babe, his eyes studying the child longingly. He let his smile drop as he began to step away.
They watched him leave, a bold smile coming across Gwayne's face at his wive's boldness. He leans down again, "Welcome me properly?"
She grins, "Perhaps after the sun sets."
A shiver of lust ran down his spine, "Why only then?"
"We must wait until our son sleeps, Gwayne."
He wraps his free arm around her waist, placing a soft kiss on her lips, "Perhaps he can find sleep before the sun does."
She giggled lightly, "How so?"
"In the arms of his father," he stated as if obvious, "How else?"
She shook her head, "He wouldn't possibly-"
She froze, seeing that the baby in her husband's arm was already asleep, slumbering peacefully.
He looked up at her with a smirk. "Let us lay him down. I have a reunion to enjoy."
His wife grinned, dragging the man indoors.
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So glad everyone has come to the collective conclusion that Mark is a munch no matter whatever reality it is that boy FEASTS !!!! (ofc some better than others)
can see him being so into it he does it in the morning, maybe he wants to wake you up and give him some….. attention ;) and this is the best wake up he can think of. or it’s a nice and quiet morning in and you just wake up to him lazily eating you out bc he’s clearly hungry and “eating breakfast”
randomly throughout the day if he’s not working ofc and he gets in a mood while spending time with you or just starts thinking about you bro is on you immediately!! apologizing as he goes down bc he just can’t help himself and you taste so good and he loves you so much and he gets soooo into it
Can totally see him grinding himself into whatever hes laying on or he’s got one hand on himself but he can and will give you his full undivided attention to make it so good for you dw he’s really good at multi-tasking
he wants you for breakfast, lunch, AND dinner bby nothin is stopping that man
Mark has a long and horrible day where he’s just exhausted and comes home to you, the love of his life, just doing somethin hella domestic and you turn to see him come in looking battered as hell and ofc you rush over to check on him and take care of him and he’s so overwhelmed with his love for you at that moment the only thing he can think of to take the ache of stress off his back is to go down on his beautiful and amazing s/o until she’s incoherent and sobbing in pleasure
Mark has also totally come home maybe super keyed up or pissed off and pounces on you the second he sees you. just gets aggressive and sloppy and it’s wet and messy. only time he’s rough with you is if he’s feeling like this or you ask for it. but bro is goin FERAL over you and he’s gripping your thighs so hard and speaking literal FILTH as he practically makes out with your cunt. he acts like a man starved until he’s done then it’s back to being usual goofy and chill Mark who’s ready to have an actual conversation with you LOL. sometimes you just gotta let the man eat till he’s ready ya know ??
he also definitely uses it as a method to relax you. maybe you’re the one hella stressed out or can’t sleep, thoughts erratic and all over the place so Mark takes it upon himself to eat you out until you’re boneless on the sheets. head empty with the only thoughts being of him. he’s pretty gentle and slow when doing it like this, more focused on making you feel good and you enjoy yourself. massaging at your thighs and whispering praise, you don’t last long at all.
def takes what he has ever watched in porn and tries it out with you btw <3
his fav sex position is also 69 btw no I will not be told otherwise 🫶 (unless it’s the one position where he can watch himself go in and out of you bc it’s so hot LOL)
Yuji Itadori
Yuji was OBSESSED with you, you couldn't deny that you loved all the attention he gave you and all the attention he needed, he was like a puppy.
His hand was always on you, there was no time of the day when he wasn't touching you, this guy is desperate for your attention and if he feels like you're not giving him enough he's going to take you in his big, strong arms and squeeze you against him until he feels like he has 100% of your attention all to himself again. Oh! And you won't have to worry, Yuji only has eyes for you.
dating a civilian
The meeting had been dragging on for too long, and Mark was already exhausted. Missions, responsibilities, the weight of being Invincible—it was all piling up. But when Eve made her comment, all of that faded into the background.
"Mark, I just don’t get it," Eve said, crossing her arms. "You’re risking too much by being with a civilian. You know that, right? She can’t keep up with you. She can’t fight. She’s vulnerable."
Mark’s jaw clenched. He slowly turned to face her, his usual easygoing expression hardening into something unreadable.
"You think I don’t know that?" His voice was quieter than usual, but firm. The room went still.
Eve hesitated. "I just mean… You live in different worlds. What happens if she gets hurt because of you? Or worse? You should be with someone who understands what it means to be a hero."
Mark let out a sharp breath, his fists clenching at his sides. "You don’t get to decide that for me, Eve. I love her. And yeah, she doesn’t have powers, but that doesn’t mean she’s weak. She’s stronger than you think."
"Mark—"
"No," he cut her off. "She takes care of me. After every fight, every mission, every time I come home half-dead, she’s the one who patches me up. She’s the one who holds me when I feel like I’m falling apart. She makes me want to be better, not just as Invincible, but as a person. And you think she’s not enough just because she doesn’t have powers? That’s bullshit."
Eve frowned, clearly taken aback by the force behind his words. "I just… I worry about you."
"Then trust me to make my own choices," Mark said, his voice softer but no less determined. "I know what I’m doing. And I’m not going to let anyone make me doubt that."
The room was silent. No one else dared to speak. Mark exhaled slowly, shaking his head before turning away, ready to leave. "I’m done here."
When he got home that night, he didn’t say anything at first—he just wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, breathing you in. You could feel the tension in his body, the weight of the conversation still lingering on his shoulders.
"Mark? What’s wrong?"
He buried his face in your neck, his voice a little rough. "Nothing. Just… I love you."
You smiled softly, running your fingers through his hair. "I love you too. Always."
He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his gaze full of determination and something fiercer—something protective. "No one gets to tell me that I shouldn’t be with you. No one."
And you knew, without a doubt, that he meant every word.