Satoru stands before you, his gaze ever searching through yours, embedding it in a way you wish he wouldn't. Within his deep-set blue eyes, something feels amiss. They don't look manipulative — no mischief you could have detected right away. There is obviously no trace of the certain way his eyes bring about in him.
This one watches you softly, almost carefully. Not meekly though; rather, it holds a kind of innocent trait that is nearly impossible for Satoru to possess.
"Don't fuck with me right now . . ." You hear yourself say. There is a hint of a humorless laugh attempting to break away.
"I —" his voice cracks. It's unlike him.
"What have you done?" You start. "Hm?"
Satoru remains rigidly quiet.
"Say something," you push his chest harshly, "you always get the last comment, so say something."
He closes his eyes.
You shake your head. There is something you can't quite control trying to flow out of your eyes, yet you force it to stop.
"Satoru," you call with that sweet voice he loves most, "why do you have stitches on your head? Hm? Couldn't you have gone to Shōko for that? Why mar your perfect forehead?"
Clearing his throat, he says, "I-I had to do it . . ."
"Do what?" Your head tilts, questioningly. "Is there something you didn't tell me?"
His lips tremble faintly. Anyone might have missed it. But the thing about you is that you know Satoru most. That little quirk of his lip will never go unnoticed by you — even if it's unlike him to do so.
You ram your fist against his chest again. He only takes one step back.
"Satoru. I am waiting."
Deep down in your heart, you know what is true. This isn't Satoru. This isn't the man who promised you absolution. This, who stands before you, is shaking, even if his eyes refuse to look anywhere else but your presence.
However, your mind conjures the easiest plausible escape first.
Denial.
Denial. Denial. Denial. That's what it is.
Then this Satoru calls out your name, and that's when you know you can't run away from the truth forever.
"Gojō Sensei —"
The scream tears through you in the most unthinkable sound to have ever graced your lips, effectively cutting Yūta off. It's the combination of all there never would be anymore: the longing, the love, the loss, the anguish, the teasing, and the knowing of never having to see him again.
Yūta looks at you through Satoru's eyes — through those eyes that you loved most, that you've watched open and close many, many times — as his fingers shake uncontrollably, not knowing how even to begin rectifying this.
"I have to —" his voice cracks brokenly, "— please understand, I had to. I'd never wanted this. I'm sorry."
You scream louder, like some sort of possessed being wailing across the souls of those alive. You pull your hair; strands fall on the ground. And you do just about anything to try and withdraw from this horrible pain.
"I only have a minute left . . . I have to return to my body. But, I couldn't leave him out there . . ." Yūta weeps openly. "I can't leave Gojō Sensei alone. I wanted to bring him back to you. Somehow. Someway. I'm sorry. I should've —"
Perhaps it's Yūta, being ever the kindest kid you have met, or maybe it's the muscle memory of your lover; whoever took control, they enveloped you into his arms. You can feel the warmth of his body encasing you in its last burst of energy, and you cling onto that, onto him who's nothing but a carcass already.
And you finally collapse.
"How could you do this to me!" You hear yourself scream. Yūta doesn't let you go. He holds you tighter. You can still smell the faint scent of Satoru. "How could you! This wasn't part of the plan! You told me you'd win! You said you would! How dare you! How could you do this to me! SATORU!"
For that whole minute Yūta gives you, he holds you like how his sensei would've. He whispers things to your ear, deluding you into believing it was Satoru. Until his body convulses, and with one last apology, both from the man you loved and the student you care for most, Yūta finally returns to his own body, and you are left with the real Satoru — hollow and empty and still.
Your hands fumble up in the air, your mouth hangs wide open for a scream that never comes, your eyes well with so many tears, wide and unblinking, and you look at nowhere else but to your own lover who stares at you. The blues have dimmed to grays.
"Don't do this to me, please." You beg, shaking his body desperately. "Please. Please, please, please, Satoru, please, please, please, please."
You continue to shake him. Maybe if you shake him a bit harder, he'd jump start and return. He'd make a teasing remark that he got you good this time. You wouldn't get angry. You wouldn't even smack the hell out of him. In fact, you'd laugh with him. You'd kiss him, and kiss him, and never let go.
"Please, Satoru. Please. Please."
Yūta kneels in front of you. "Gojō Sensei has to rest his eyes. Let me . . . p-please."
You don't remember whether or not you've agreed; all you remember is that Satoru's eyes close for the final time when Yūta's bloodied fingers decide to force them to rest. You are too numb to do it, and he is too selfless to let you.
Then that's when you begin to bargain. You beg, scream, and demand that there might be some curse technique out there that can bring him back. When the only breathing person in the infirmary tells you that there isn't any curse he knows of, you try another way.
You manage to crawl on your knees towards Yūta, begging him to curse Satoru the way he did to Rika for her.
That you would take care of him, that you would set him free eventually, that it would be okay — just, just, just please, bring him back.
But Yūta can only force himself to hold your hand, crying with you in hiccups and ragged breathing because he can't, above all else, comply with your wishes. "Gojō Sensei told me not to."
And you scream again. "That isn't fair! He left me! How could he have done this, when he knows I can't do this without him! I can't do this! Yūta, I can't. Please! Please! Bring him back! To me! Please!"
Someone tries to enter the room. You throw the nearby thing you can hold onto, which is a chair.
"GET OUT!"
Yūta pushes the other objects away from your grasp, and immediately orders the people outside not to enter under any circumstances. Then, he crouches to your level and holds you tightly. Yūta says nothing, despite your nails digging against his back, despite you pulling the front of his hair and shirt, despite everything you're putting him through.
Things wouldn't stop moving, breathing, and living. And yet, Yūta continues to hold you.
"Yūta," you beg once more, in a whisper no less broken than the others you've implored, "kill me. Please. I can't do this without him. Please."
"I won't."
"W-Why?"
Yūta sobs. "Because G-Gojō Sensei told me not to."
pancakes, music and crack
s. gojo, s. geto, i. shoko and you
warnings: mentions of magic powder, mentions of su*cide, poor use of memes, cursing, lmk if there's more
a/n: based on that one comment on suguru making binding vows about pancakes
a/n: ts jus pmo sb dont judge its so cringe
taglist: @starobsessions, @megumisrighttoe, @stqrgumi (comment to be added!)
summary: the crew (plus todo) is on summer vacay for two weeks (funded by gojo) and yujis wingmen (megumi and todo) have to help him score not oblivious you while you and nobara are trying to do the exact same thing!
content warning : suggestive probably, aged up, first smau bear with me here,
i don’t own any of the pictures, all are from pinterest!
tw: canon compliant (I think?), ooc, character death mentioned, suguru geto was is reader’s parental figure (they are strictly platonic), toji’s pet worm is in this haha, depictions of a panic attack (?), depictions of grief, jjk0 spoilers, non-established relationship, megumi has a fat crush on you
next part..
Going on a mission with your team wouldn’t have been your first choice. Actually, it was never a thing that you even considered when you became a first year at jujutsu tech.
You had always ran solo. When you were stuck babysitting three large babies put on a team, it stressed you out more than anything. Because now you not only had to look out for yourself, you had to look out for them as well.
You were originally supposed to go on your mission alone, but you had just returned injured from another mission (fuck the higher ups), and it was deemed ‘too unsafe for you to go alone’.
Well, you had never heard of that excuse before. You had gone on at least a bajillion missions with a limb or two half ripped off, and that was apparently fine, but not a couple bruises and scratches here and there?
Probably Gojo’s doing. Again.
He had always been a uh… watcher, to say the least. He cared for his students, sure, that’s nice.
For some reason, you always had a sneaking suspicion he was watching you a little closer than the others. Even without the six eyes directly on you, you always felt a tingle trickle up your spine whenever you’d catch him staring.
Like he was waiting for you to do something.
Maybe that’s why he pulled some strings to get you to go in this team mission. To ensure that you’d be kept in check for whatever you were about to do.
They were annoying, but you still cared about them nonetheless. They were your family, really.
Except for when you were running from a bunch of curses.
You’d usually take them down yourself quickly, but you really weren’t in the mood to explain to your friends how you were able to take down a bunch of slimy monsters down in under ten minutes.
Come to think of it, your friends had never seen you used your cursed technique at all. Gojo only told them that ‘you were not a force to be dealt with’ and ‘please stay on her good side or you will die’.
So when they spotted a fat, purple noodle hurl one of your weapons from its mouth, it’s safe to say they were more than concerned. Even Megumi had never seen that… thing around you before.
Nobara cringed. Why was it.. damp? “Oh god, what is that?”
“It looks like chewed up gum.” Megumi flat out stated.
You gasped in offense. “He does not!”
“It’s a he?”
“I am going to kill all of you.” They took that threat very seriously.
The worm seemed to tolerate Yuji (probably because he was the only one who didn’t insult the poor thing) The purple worm curled itself- himself, around your leg, letting out a squeal that made all of them recoil.
“Does it normally spew out weapons or was that a one time thing?…” Megumi stuck a finger towards the worm and pulled it back when his mouth got too close.
“It stores all my weapons. Hey, wait- I haven’t seen some of them in months. Did you eat some of my weapons?” You glanced at the centipede looking being, which only earned you a wriggle in response.
You were getting ready to settle down for the night, the four of you deciding to rest and return to jujutsu high in the morning. You hated going into rural areas for missions, cause that just meant you’d have to spend your night in a tent in the middle of nowhere with two idiots and a grouch.
After you had completed your mission, Yuji spent almost thirty minutes asking you random questions about the worm. ‘How old is it?’ ‘Does it have a name?’ ‘Does it eat people?’
Megumi and Nobara groaned many times that night. Nobara would’ve thrown him into the campfire if Megumi didn’t complain about how long it took for him to set up.
Despite the constant whining in your ear, you answered every single questioned that he dished out. You didn’t know why Yuji was so interested in your pet worm, but you were too nice to say no to the sunshine boy.
Except for one question you physically couldn’t answer.
Yuji had the tiny cursed spirit in his lap when he asked the question everyone had been wondering from the beginning.
“Where’d you get the little guy?”
You had your back turned from your friends, but they still felt the mood shift drastically. You whipped around a little too fast for their liking, forcing a smile that didn’t reach your eyes.
“It’s getting late now, okay? Let’s just go to bed.”
He knew better than to push further. The three scurried off into their tents for the night, assuming you did too.
But you didn’t. How could you? You sat outside in front of the fire for hours, starting into the flames like it did you wrong. Like it would start talking, and tell you that you did nothing wrong.
That was what people had been telling you for the past year. That it wasn’t your fault. It was driving you insane. The more people said it, it started sounding less convincing. It was like people just said it cause they felt obligated to, to make sure you didn’t drive yourself up a wall blaming yourself for the events that happened so long ago.
It didn’t feel like a long time ago to you. You hadn’t even been a first year yet when it happened.
You had began training at jujutsu high somewhere between the age of six to seven, alongside Megumi. It just meant that you two would just have to work on your cursed techniques without being official jujutsu sorcerers yet.
The two of you often hid in Megumi’s room to avoid training at times. Gojo always knew, but he gave you guys the benefit of the doubt when you lied about where you were.
He only revealed the tiny secret once. And sometimes you truly wished he hadn’t. You wish he had just kept it to himself so you could go on with your life believing whatever lie he had made up.
“[Name]?” Megumi’s dorm door slid open, which made the two of you flinch. You and Megumi would’ve been embarrassed to be caught playing pokemon sun and moon (that megumi got for his 13th birthday) on the ground at midnight, but it was gojo, and he already teased you guys enough about it for you two to be used to it.
“Hi gojo sensei.” You grinned stupidly, pushing your pink Nintendo 3ds towards Megumi. Traitor.
“I need to talk to you. Privately.” Both you and Megumi had never seen him so serious before, it shook you to your core.
You had stepped out for just a minute. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the news that was about to be dropped on you.
“Uhm…” Gojo was struggling. How do you tell a child that someone they loved so deeply was… not on earth anymore? “It’s about your dad.”
You rolled your eyes. “Don’t call Geto-sama my dad... Is he here? Goddamit, he literally said I could stay the night today. Why does he always do this…”
“No, it’s not that..” He was praying you’d get the hint so he wouldn’t have to say it himself. It would’ve been so much easier if I was anybody else. Annoys but him.
You definitely did. You felt your lips part as you eyed the blood staining his clothes, hands gripping the hem of your shirt. “Gojo sensei. Where’s geto-sama?”
He sighed, biting the bullet.
“He’s gone, kid”
You pushed your hair back, dragging yourself out of the memory.
If you had tried harder, would he had never gone after rika? The guilt was swallowing you whole, when in reality everyone who was there knew you could’ve done nothing to stop him. You were just a kid, after all.
But you were his kid, right? As much as you hated saying it, you were his daughter. He had found you when you were a child, and took you in despite being a child himself. It wasn’t like you knew who your real parents were, so he was practically all you knew.
You felt your breathing start to pick up, you had to claw at your chest to even convince yourself it was slowing back down when it wasn’t.
You could hear your heart hammering in your ears. Were you dying? Yeah, you were probably dying. You needed to get out of there. But you couldn’t. Why couldn’t you? Just get up. Get up.
Your hands were cold, freezing even. The pounding in your chest was almost painful against your chest. Your eyes flickered back and forth, desperately searching for something to focus on, anything else to get your mind off of him.
He was gone.
And you’d never see him again.
“[Name], hey. Oh shit, you’re-”
Your vision was blurry, but somehow, you could still make out the faint silhouette of your childhood friend. You felt him take your hands into his, and you blinked several more times, with everything coming back into focus.
“Hey, hey. You’re safe.”
You were still shaken up, breathing still faster than normal.
“Just breathe for me, okay?”
You were able to nod in response. Megumi had done this a million times before, so it all felt natural. He was careful to not be too loud, so he wouldn’t accidentally wake up Yuji and Nobara.
After thirty minutes, the two of you ended up sitting side by side infront of the still lit campfire.
“I don’t mean to ask but… it’s about geto-sama, isn’t it?”
You snort. “No shit. He thought the cursed spirit was ‘too ugly’, but I literally loved that thing so much he just gave it up to me. He never admitted it, but I think it was cause it called him mommy at some point.”
That enticed a rare smile from Megumi. He sat and listened as you reminisced, sharing stories even he didn’t know about, despite knowing you for so many years.
“You… miss him a lot, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. He’s my dad, for godsake. Fuck- that sounds weird. A year ago I wouldn’t have called him my dad if you killed me.” You tucked your knees against your chest.
You slapped his arm gently. “You’d react the same gojo sensei, I don’t know… got chopped up or whatever.”
“That’ll never happen, alright? He’s the strongest, and I don’t think we’ll lose anybody else with him around.” He reassured, leaning his head against yours.
“You really think we’ll be okay? You know with, how we’re running around, throwing ourselves into danger. Especially with sukuna now using Yuji as a vessel, who knows what’s gonna happen?”
“I know so. He’s going to stay inside Yuji for good.”
“Heh. That’s what she said.”
“[Name]!” He huffed, shoving you as you laugh through your apology. He glared, watching you burst into another fit of giggles. His gaze eventually softened, glad that he was able to calm you down.
He would do anything to make sure you’d never have to go through what you did ever again. It hurt him seeing you that way, if only he could tell you what would be on his mind every time he saw your smile.
He brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, making you pause as you tried to catch your breath from all the laughing. The act made your cheeks flush, and he tugged his hand back when he noticed.
“Hey, Megs?”
“… yeah?”
“I-”
Squeak!
Your heads snapped down to the source of the noise. Your pet worm had made its way out of your tent, and now sat snugly between the two of you. You raised an unamused brow at it while Megumi turned away to curse under his breath.
Way to ruin the moment dude.
a/n: i daydream abt geto giving daughter!reader a pet cursed spirit almost everyday brah im glad i got to execute it
Saw your account and curious to see who for DC you write for and your rules if it's not too much to ask!
I also love the jjk gif stuff on your account!
I’m not really writing for DC right now, but i would write for the Batboys (not including Duke yet bc i need to read more of his runs), Wally, Kyle, Hal, Babs, Roy, platonic batfam stuff (i.g. batsis!reader), Clark, Diana, Kara, Platonic!Hal and Kyle, (i adore the trope), i’ll add on more bc this is off the top of my head 😭
BUT! i will be making a rules page soon, after the fic i’m working on!
alright, i'll be the one to say it. ao3 and tumblr becoming "mainstream" did so much damage to the community and the writers. i have seen loads of videos and posts about:
1. people hating on writers and fics. writing is something we do for free and for fun. if you stumble upon a fanfic that isn't necessarily your cup of tea or you just don't like, scroll. dont read it. literally leave their page. you don't know if this could be the author's first work that they're so excited about, you dont know if the language they're writing in isn't their first language, you dont know that the writer could be a literal teen and loads of other reasons. fanfictions don't HAVE to be perfect. you write what you want to write because we do it for fun and enjoyment and we want to share that to the world. seriously, what is the wrong with that?..
2. x reader consumers getting WAY too entitled. the number of tiktoks i've seen that say "i run a strict program when it comes to reading fanfics." girl you aint running shit. this is FAN FICTION you're reading. F A N F I C T I O N. there is no denying that most fanfiction writes are beyond talented but just because you read one fanfic that exceeds your expectations doesn't give you the right to talk down on others that don't. people have their own personal writing style, their way of doing things and you talking shit on that isn't right.
at the end of the day, we are all humans, reading and writing is what we do and what we're meant to do. and for you to talk shit about a person WRITING is so insane. we are humans. not some robots that you can tell what to do so you can consume it.
i've seen so so many authors take down their fanfics and losing all motivation to write because of a hate comment. DONT LIKE DONT READ‼️
and to every author reading this, this community values your work and your contribution. we love u and, please, never let anyone's negative words have an effect on you.
your thumb gently brushed over the bridge of megumi’s nose as you smiled down at him.
the two of you were laying in bed together, moonlight filtering through the window and illuminating a sliver of his face.
he was shirtless, neck and collarbone littered with soft purple marks, left by you earlier that night. his hair was mussed from you tugging at it. but he looked so beautiful.
“what’re you doing…?” he grumbled, one eye opening to peek up at you.
“you look so pretty, baby.” you whispered, the pad of your thumb brushing his sharp jawline now, tracing it gently.
“shut up..” he murmured, but there was no real conviction to his words. the faint blush on his cheeks betrayed his stubborn attitude.
“i’m serious. how is your face so perfect?” you asked, eyes fixed on his long lashes. he opened his mouth to protest, but you cut him off.
“i’m jealous of you. your nose is so cute and small,” you traced the bridge of his nose again.
“and your skin is so smooth, and clear.” you continued, fingers brushing his cheeks.
his eyebrows furrowed, and he avoided your gaze, clearly flustered.
“and your lashes genuinely piss me off. why are they so long and perfect.” you mutter, leaning so close to him that your lashes practically brushed against his.
“they piss you off…?” he repeated, voice soft and a little confused. he never understood you when you got like this.
“yeah. like, you don’t even need serums or extensions or anything. they’re just… like that.” you murmur, pulling away and looking down at him, your gaze tracing his features and falling to his lips.
without another word, you leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his pink lips.
yeah.
his lips were perfect too.
||a/n: oh my sweet sweet megumi. save me megumi fluff…
i feel like writing a jjk actors x reader AU where they’re all in a show together and the main interest is yuta and he’s fun and outgoing but private abt his life and reader is also an actor on the show and the two are dating but it’s not public and they’re just teasing the public before at some premiere for a movie reader js shows up with a wedding ring and surprises everyone, and lo and behold who has the other ring?? yuta ofc!
The kitchen was cast in a soft glow of warm lighting –a stark contrast to the blindingly white fluorescents you were greeted with the second you stepped into your brother’s apartment.
Instead, you turned on a sole lamp in the kitchen along with a few candles before putting on some music to keep you company while you fixed yourself a sandwich.
You had come home from uni for the weekend (home in case being your brother’s two bedroom apartment), hoping to surprise said brother, forgetting momentarily that he wasn’t a normal brother and had his vigilante duties to take care of at night.
So you were greeted with an empty house and an even emptier kitchen, forcing you to cook for yourself. So much for a warm home cooked meal.
You were about to tear some lettuce when you heard it. The creaky living room window opening –the sound as familiar to you as your own voice. A faint thud followed after, immediately putting you on guard.
You immediately stood up straight, grabbing the nearest thing you could find –which was a wooden spatula– and prepared for the worst.
Roy would use the front door and not the window if he was coming home, meaning someone must have found where he lived and decided to break in while he was away. Which meant you were probably about to die very soon.
You held the spatula up and tip-toed outside, turning the corner to see a tall figure in the darkness of the apartment, wearing a black leather jacket and fitted pants with a holster around his waist –no doubt holding guns. His back was turned to you so you couldn’t see his face as you walked towards him with the stealth of a cat.
Unfortunately for you, he was quicker as he turned around when you were a mere step away and grabbed your arm with one hand, making you smack him on the head with the spatula with your free hand.
“Ow what the hell!” Said the mystery man, loosening his grip on you and bringing his hand up to the side of his face.
You shrieked and dropped the wooden spoon, turning around to run to the front door but the man was faster than you. He closed the distance between you both in one single stride and grabbed you from behind, picking you up so you couldn’t walk away.
“Let me go!” You protested, hitting his arms and kicking your feet out.
“Can you stop fucking screaming for a second!” The man yelled, walking you towards the wall where he flicked the light switch on and set you down, turning you around to face him.
“Jason?” You exclaimed, confused.
“Yes! You hit me in the face,” he hissed.
“I thought you were an intruder!”
“And your choice of weapon was a spoon,” he echoed.
“Use the damn door next time,” you snapped, eyes running over his handsomely bruised face and the blood staining the side of his shirt. “Oh my god are you bleeding?” You gasped, stepping closer to his side.
He looked down and cursed lightly, sucking in a breath. “My stitches probably tore open.”
“Your what-”
“Roy patched me up and told me to come here and wait.”
“That doesn’t look okay oh my god,” you repeated.
“It’s fine,” he said in a shaky voice.
“Come here,” you rushed towards him and grabbed his arm, walking him to the bathroom.
“I can walk,” he muttered, snatching his arm away from you.
Okay well you deserved that.
Once in the bathroom, you gently pushed him down on the closed toilet lid, despite his grumbling protests, saying he didn’t need your help or you for that matter but one harsh glare from you had him shutting up.
“Take off your shirt,” you ordered, grabbing the antiseptic liquid from the cabinet.
“Funny how you were adamant that I don't take off my shirt last time I saw you,” he quipped but did as you asked.
“Shut up Jason,” you rolled your eyes, taking the liquid in a cotton ball before leaning down to look at his sweaty abs, currently slightly red with new blood trickling from his ripped stitches.
“This might hurt,” you informed, pressing the cotton ball to the wound.
Jason hissed through his teeth in response and gripped the counter next to him, eyes squeezed shut.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, rubbing the blood away.
“Just… be quick.”
You nodded and continued working in silence, giving him fresh stitches with practiced ease just as you had given to Roy countless times when he came home bleeding whenever you were around. You covered the stitches with gauze, securing multiple medical tapes around it so it could protect the stitches a bit better.
After you were done, you raised to your full height and grabbed a fresh cotton. You poured more antiseptic liquid on it before leaning down to press it against the bruises on Jason’s face.
“What are you doing?” He murmured, giving you a puzzled look when you grabbed his chin to look closely.
“You have cuts on your face too,” you informed, inspecting the cuts on his lip and cheekbone.
“It’s fine,” he retreated, shifting back.
“Don’t move,” you ordered again, hands coming up to hold his face again.
“Didn’t think you cared about what happened to my face,” Jason chided.
“It’s a very pretty face,” you whispered, dabbing the cotton on his cheekbone, making him suck in a harsh breath in pain –or something else.
“You can flirt with me, you can call me when you can’t fall asleep, you can kiss me when you have one too many drinks but you can’t go out with me. Got it,” Jason chuckled without any humour.
“Jason,” you sighed, hands dropping from his face.
You had been going back and forth with this. You and Jason have always had the type of relationship where you could flirtatiously banter with each other but it never went further than that because he was your brother’s best friend.
And Roy had said all his vigilante friends, especially the Wayne family vigilante friends, especially, especially Jason Todd, were off limits. Jason knew that too so he never crossed that boundary with you.
Except for that one drunken kiss you had shared with him two weeks ago when Roy had sent him to walk you home after a night of bar hopping with your girlfriends.
That kiss had only made your want, need for him worse.
Because you knew now how soft his lips felt against yours, how his hands rubbed up and down your back, how he nibbled on your bottom lip, how he whimpered against your mouth when you accidentally bit his lip a little too hard, how he leaned his face down to reach you because he was just that damn tall.
That night had shifted something in your relationship because you two began talking to each other more. He began calling you at late hours when he came home from patrol and you began sending him texts throughout the day about the most mundane things.
So you couldn’t really blame Jason for wanting something more with you.
But everything had come back to the fact you were Roy’s sister and he was his best friend, they were practically brothers. He was at your house every day for years before you finally left for college and stopped seeing him.
With a sigh, you tidied up the bathroom and went back out in the living room, helping Jason sit down on the couch. You handed him Roy’s clothes and eyed him as he contorted his face in a scowl because it hurt to raise his arms to put the hoodie on but of course Jason being Jason refused your help.
“Do you want a sandwich?” You asked, fidgeting with your fingers.
“Sure,” he mumbled and followed you into the kitchen.
You began working on another sandwich while Jason took perch leaning back on the counter next to you. His presence in the small kitchen made it look even smaller with how intensely he was looking at your every move.
“M’sorry,” he sighed, breaking the silence between you.
“For what?” You smiled, grabbing a knife to cut the crusts off your sandwich.
“What I said earlier,” he shook his head. “What are you doing?” he frowned watching the crust coming off your sandwich.
“I don’t like the crust,” you replied with a little shrug.
“You’re a grown adult, you know that right?”
“I just don’t like it,” you pouted. “My mom used to always cut them off, I still hate it. I can’t eat toast or sandwiches if they have a crust.”
“Huh,” Jason noted like he was saving the information and hopped on the counter completely, sitting back and grabbing the sandwich that you handed to him.
You sat down on the island opposite of him and nudged his bare foot with yours playfully.
“I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have kissed you,” you apologised earnestly, taking a bite out of your sandwich.
“I’m not, I’d have done it if you didn’t,” he shrugged, taking a bite out of the sandwich so casually like he hadn’t just made your breath get caught in your throat.
“Oh.”
Silence fell over you after that but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one like before. You cleaned up the kitchen and washed the dishes while Jason sat on the counter, looking at you with those painfully blue-green eyes that could practically melt you on the spot.
Roy came home soon after that and was pleasantly surprised to see you. He told Jason to crash on his couch for the night despite Jason’s protests and chants of “I’m fine.”
Roy ushered you in the spare bedroom –where you always stayed when you came over. He stood outside your door until you got settled inside and turned your lights off before he made his way to the living room to give Jason a warning glare.
Sister. Off limits. He mouthed to Jason, tossing a spare blanket and pillow at him before retreating into his bedroom. Jason’s response was a middle finger to him.
-
For the next hour, you stayed in bed tossing and turning. Your mind clogged with the thoughts of a certain black haired sea colour eyed boy with the prettiest freckles that got darker every time he got flustered.
You thought about how defeated he had looked when you were patching him up and he had made that comment.
It was almost painful because you wanted more with him too. Of course you did, you didn’t know exactly when it happened but for years now, you were hiding your crush on Jason Todd from everyone, especially yourself.
And the fact that he made no effort to hide his attraction towards you just made you feel worse.
But you knew you couldn’t do that to your brother. He hadn’t even told you that he himself was a vigilante until you were about to leave for college just to keep you away from this lifestyle so even the thought of you and Jason being together would make him blow a blood vessel.
You couldn’t do that to him. You only had each other and if he wanted this one thing from you, you could sacrifice a little crush for that.
You let out a deep breath and got up from the bed, making your way to the kitchen.
You told yourself that it was because you were thirsty and NOT because you wanted to make sure Jason was sleeping comfortably on the couch.
In the dark hallway, you padded over to the living room. The only light coming in was from the little crack under the front door from the corridor outside. You glanced over to the couch for a beat just to see if Jason was in any discomfort but the way he was flopped on his stomach reassured you that he wasn’t.
So you made your way to the kitchen instead. Filling a glass of water, you leaned back on the counter, taking small sips.
When you turned around, Jason was standing in the doorway.
You jumped at his sudden appearance and put your hand to your chest. “God you scared me!” You whisper yelled.
“Why are you awake?” He asked, ignoring you.
“Couldn’t sleep,” you shrugged.
“Yeah? Me either,” he sighed, stepping closer to you.
“Are you in pain? Do you need a painkiller?” You asked, already on your way to the bathroom but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back, making you stand inches away from him.
“I’m fine,” he smiled, popping those impossibly cute dimples. “You’re cute when you’re worried about me.”
“Is that why you showed up bleeding and bruised?” You narrowed your eyes.
“It was worth it,” he shrugged.
You slapped his chest lightly and rolled your eyes, pretending to humour him when your mind was still fixated on the grip he had on your wrist.
“You should’ve gone to the batcave or something. I doubt my stitches will hold,” you said quickly, trying to change the subject.
“Maybe,” he nodded. “But Alfred doesn’t look nearly as hot as you do in shorts.”
“Jason,” you scowled, stepping away from him and pulling your shorts down.
“Relax,” he chuckled, reaching for you again.
You closed your eyes as you felt his knuckles brush your cheekbones, palm still lingering. You sighed and nuzzled into his warm hand, thinking of nothing but you and Jason in the moment.
“He’s a door away,” you murmured, opening your eyes but not making any effort to pull away.
“Mhmm,” Jason hummed in agreement, bringing his face closer to yours so the tip of your nose touched his.
“We shouldn’t do this,” you whispered, eyes going down at his pink bitten lips.
“Mhmm,” he hummed again before finally pressing his lips against yours.
You let your body melt into his the second his plush lips touched yours, goosebumps rising on your bare shoulders. He hummed softly before wrapping both his arms around your waist and molding his lips against yours in a way like he was made to kiss you.
He rubbed circles on the exposed part of your waist as he continued kissing you like it was the last time he would get to do so.
You brought your hands in his hair, gripping the strands and trying desperately to ignore the warning ringing in your voice telling you that your brother was in the next room.
You whimpered against his mouth as he bit your bottom lip, smoothing it over with his tongue. But it was enough to make you snap out of your daze as you pulled away, resting your forehead against his chin.
“I’m sorry,” you apologised. “I’m gonna go to bed.”
“Yeah me too,” he gulped, rubbing your back one last time before straightening you up.
“Good night Jason,” you sighed and made your way inside your bedroom, not even waiting for his reply.
a/n: LAST TIME I PROMISE
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