Boyfriend Scenarios - HC - How they are as boyfriends. (Olf af. Trash warning.)
Shikamaru, Naruto, Sasuke, Kakashi, and Gaara.
How They Found Out - Part Two - HC - How your relationship ended up being revealed.
Sasuke, Naruto, Shikamaru, and Kakashi.
Children - HC - How many kids they have and how they are with them.
Naruto Uzumaki, Sasuke Uchiha, Shikamaru Nara, Kakashi Hatake, and Madara Uchiha.
Iâll Take You In - HC - They bring home a baby.
Kakashi Hatake, Sasuke Uchiha, Shikamaru Nara, Naruto Uzumaki, and Gaara.
Blind - HC - How they handle their partner losing their sight due to the effects of the Mangekyo Sharingan.
Kakashi Hatake, Shikamaru Nara, Sasuke Uchiha, Naruto Uzumaki, Madara Uchiha, and Hashirama Senju.
How Theyâd Do You - HC - How they are in bed.
Sasuke Uchiha, Kakashi Hatake, Shikamaru Nara, Madara Uchiha, and Naruto Uzumaki.
One Bed - HC - Classic one bed trope.
Sasuke Uchiha, Kakashi Hatake, and Shikamaru Nara.
Hate - HC - Hate is a strong word, but it's also a very fragile one.
Kakashi Hatake, Shikamaru Nara, and Sasuke Uchiha.
Unplanned - HC - Pregnancy scenarios 'cause I can.
Sasuke Uchiha, Naruto Uzumaki, Shikamaru Nara, and Kakashi Hatake
Preferences - HC - Body type preferences
Sasuke Uchiha, Shikamaru Nara, Naruto Uzumaki, and Kakashi Hatake.
Sasuke Uchiha
Iâm Ready Now - HC - You and Sasuke are long-term friends. He's finally decided he's ready to be with you, but you had no idea what had been motivating him all along.
Kakashi Hatake
Shock - Part Two - Two Shot - An uninvited guest on Kakashiâs doorstep might be a little trouble, but it's worth it in the end.
So..? - HC - Kakashi finally musters up the courage to ask you out.
Retire - HC - You need some convincing to leave ANBU.
Madara Uchiha
Get Over It - HC - You're the Hokage's assistant just trying to do your job.
Avatar The Last Airbender
Zuko
Arranged Marriage - HC - Caught up in his personal conflict, Zuko completely neglects his marriage.
Robes - HC - Your relationship with Zuko and how your friends found out.
My Hero Academia
And Suddenly - HC - They proposition you for a baby.
Shouta Aizawa, Touya Todoroki / Dabi, and Katsuki Bakugou
Aizawa Shouta
There For You - HC - Aizawa steps up after Oboroâs death, but panics when things get a bit too real.
Bakugou Katsuki
Dream Girl - Drabble - If you were to ask what his dream girl was like.
And Suddenly - HC - They proposition you for a baby.
Sukuna Ryomen, Gojo Satoru, and Geto Suguru
First Love - Drabble - You meet your first love again after so much time apart.
Non-specified character
Satoru Gojo
Haunted - HC - Yuuji swears he's being haunted by the ghost of a little girl.
âNewâ Best friend! Satoru - HC - Sometimes kissing can lead to a little something more.
SatoSugo
Remember - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - HC - You get a second chance to save him, but for right now you can only enjoy the fact that he's still here.
Suguru Geto
Yours - One Shot - One bed trope with Geto
Ryomen Sukuna
Mary On A Cross - Blurb - Idol! Sukuna HC
Soul - HC - Sukuna meets the reincarnation of the only person he's ever loved.
⧠PAIRING: wolf!toji fushiguro x f!reader | 6.4k words
⧠SUMMARY: hybrid au!, oookay apologies in advance for the angst im about to subject you to, shit ton of pining, lots of cameos yay, scenting, more talks of rut/heat cycles, lowkey mc is as obsessed as toji :>
⧠RHEYA'S NOTE: ough i am so sorry for once again dipping for months <///3 i was trying to be responsible and prioritize my studies oops .. anyways we are approaching the end of the wolf!toji series, so i hope you guys enjoy this chapter ! thank you for being so patient :33
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when you wake up, your first thought is to tell toji about the weird dream you just had. it's all hazy, bits and pieces and images that don't really make sense put together, but you want to tell him that he was in it and doing something stupid.
you're snickering at the thought while you brush your teeth, and the tease is on the tip of your tongue when you head out to the living room⊠only to be met with pin drop silence. you blink a few times, before turning to pad down the hall and knocking lightly on his door.
"hey toji?" you call out quietly, yawning. "you still asleep?"
you strain your ears for the familiar sounds of the sheets ruffling or his huffy sighs, but nothing comes, so you push the door open a smidge. surprisingly, your grumpy wolf hybrid isn't in bed. even more confusing⊠his fucking bed was madeâneatly, tucked into the corners and everything.
you step inside with a frown, noticing that the space is tidy. no sweats tossed on the floor, no pile of laundry, no empty chips bags. cleaned out and pristine.
something in your stomach twists nervously, but you brush it off to head into the main room and call out for him again. but your apartment isn't that big and toji isn't small enough to hide anywhere soâŠ
he's not home.
that twisting in your stomach becomes stronger, and you immediately pull out your phone, finding toji's contact and dialing it fast. you press the phone to your ear, feeling a bit nervous as it rings and rings. it's fine, it's fine. he's probably out or went to wâ
your spine stiffens when you hear the ring from the coffee table. toji's basic ass ringtone you've begged him to change a million times before.
his phone's there on the table, and something in your gut tells you that he didn't forget it on accident. you cut the call on your phone, picking up his and turning the screen on. his lockscreen is a picture of your small potted succulentâthe one that's currently sitting on your windowsill. why he made it his lockscreen, you never bothered to ask.
but you don't have time to dwell on any of that, because there's a note on the table, set deliberately under the phone.
even before you read it, you can feel your stomach plummet.
"thanks. for all of it. don't wait up for me."
for a second you don't believe it, and you try to convince yourself it's a hallucination of some sort by reading it over and over again. ten short words scrawled across a half ripped slip of paper. it's cold, almost like a business transaction, and you can't quite describe what runs through your mind.
on the table he's not only left his phone, but also his last paycheck and his set of keys to the apartment. it's icy, and cruel, and you try to tell your brain that it is inherently tojiâthe same toji who bared his teeth and snipped at you that night in the alleyway by your house.
you huff out a disbelieving laugh, one that has zero mirth, and stand there like a fool. your mind jumps from place to place, trying to think of a solution as it takes over in frenzied panic.
you're out the door without shoes on, feet cold against the pavement as your gaze darts down both sides of the street like you're expecting to see his hulking figure and tail. when that's unsuccessful, you stumble back into your house and stupidly try calling him again, only to curse loudly when his phone buzzes mockingly on the table once more.
it takes you a good thirty minutes to actually process that he's left no way to contact him. no second notes, no hints around your apartment. it's like he's completely erased his presence from your life. you feel hysterical running around your home trying to figure out what he's done and why he's gone.
a part of you is trying to calm your brain by saying he wouldn't go just like that, coming up with all sorts of excuses that don't hold enough weight by the end of your spiraling. but after a couple of hours of radio silence, it becomes clear that toji isn't just gonna walk through the front door.
there's no way he would just leave without saying anything to you. and even if he did, it's not like he could've gone far⊠right?
and that's how you find yourself standing at a bustling construction site, the sounds of barked orders and clanging steel in your ears. you feel oddly out place surrounded by these hulking workers hefting materials around.
"can i help you, miss?"
the man is older, graying hair at the temples and crow's feet pronounced. he's looking at you inquisitively, clipboard balanced in his calloused palm. you clear your throat awkwardly.
"yes, hi. i was just wondering if you've seen toji recently? i'm hisâuh, we're friends and he hasn't been home in a few days so i was wonderingâŠ"
the old man frowns thoughtfully. "no ma'am. toji came by a week ago and requested a site transfer form. he hasn't come back here in a few days. i assumed he was moving, so i didn't really question it much. that bastard was always so secretive."
your stomach sinks with each word, panic curling around your lungs. there's no way he actually just left. the old man pauses to study you, before grinning good naturedly as realization flicks over his face. "hey whaddya know? that asshole really did have a girl he liked back home!"
and hearing that just makes you feel sicker.
the next couple days, you go anywhere you can think toji might be. nanami pats your shoulder with a comforting frown, telling you he hasn't seen toji but he'll keep an eye out and call if he does. the old man at the convenience store asks you where your grumpy dog friend is when you go in to buy a snack, to which you can't even think up answer.
and now âŠ
you're trying hard not to cry as you stand in front of shoko's apartment door. it's honestly the last place you can think ofâjust because you remember telling toji that shoko had offered her place as a hiding spot in case things ever went south.
as soon as she opens the door, you're babbling to her, tears stinging at your lashes as you tell her he's gone and you have no idea where. she's trying to shush you, holding your hands tight and the dip in her brows deepening further at your distraught expression.
you're briefly distracted by the sight of a head popping up behind herâwhite hair that easily masks the white spotted ears atop his head. you pause your rambling awkwardly, gaze trained on the striking cerulean gaze and otherworldly gorgeous features contorted in a defensive scowl. he presses close against shoko's back, ears pinned out in a way that you recognize as threateningâtoji used to do the same.
"what are you doingâ?" shoko glances behind her, her own dark ears flicking at the sound of him.
the hybridâa snow leopard, you realize nowâwrinkles his nose pointedly, intense blue eyes trained on you. "smells like pure distress," he huffs, glancing at her. "just wanted to make sure you're good."
"i'm good, idiot." shoko rolls her eyes, nudging him back and drawing you into her apartment. the snow leopard watches you warily, thick spotted tail thrashing behind him. "this is my friend from work. the one with the wolf i told you guys about?"
the hybrid's eyes flicker with recognition, and shoko introduces the two of you quickly. satoru, you learn, is the snow leopard hybrid who was previously owned by flashy rich socialites who kept him for displayâthe same one shoko had allowed into her home a few months ago.
she guides you into her place, and in that time the other hybrid she spoke of joins the groupâthe panther. suguru, his name was, with his beautiful, dark features and slowly flicking tail. they both sit next to shoko on the couch, and you can tell they're wary of you. you can't blame themâafter all, their pasts weren't that far off from toji's.
shoko does her best to shut them up and lets you explain, and you do so to the best of your ability, trying hard not to cry. you trust her enough to tell her about the murders, about the cops, about toji's fear of being thrown back in that cursed place, and about his disappearance. the three cat hybrids listen carefully, silent.
finally shoko heaves a heavy sigh. "jeez⊠that'sâŠ" she shakes her head sadly. "sorry babe. he hasn't come by here. and i haven't seen him lurking around or anything."
you put your face in your palms, shoulders drawn tight. "my god⊠what was he thinking, running away like that� he didn't even tell me anything."
suguru clears his throat, before murmuring, "i mean i don't⊠really blame him."
you glance up, and the panther continues with a sympathetic frown. "the guy had a lot to be scared of. it's one thing to escape that placeâ" he rubs a palm over his neck absentmindedly. there you can see his numbers branded in dark ink: 0203. "âbut coming out and then having to hide because you murdered some pretty famous people must've stressed him out. plus i doubt he wanted to, you know, get you in trouble."
your heart splinters at the thoughtâthe thought that toji might've ran away because of you. "i⊠never wanted him to feel like he had to constantly live in fear," you say miserably.
"i doubt that's something he could avoid." suguru leans back into the couch, arms crossing over his chest. "he ran away from undergroundâhe was always gonna be looking over his shoulder."
"is that how it is for you?" you ask him with a rueful frown. the panther's face goes carefully neutral, eyes flicking over to shoko, who nods reassuringly. he looks back at you and heaves a sigh.
"i'm⊠a little bit different." suguru admits, scratching one of his dark ears tensely. "i didn't exactly run awayâwell i did but⊠they actually sent me to be put down."
you can't keep the surprise out of your expression as he continues explaining.
"i'd been down there for years, and after one of my fights i just⊠lost it." his expression goes chillingly dark. "i hated the imbalance, hated that the humans who were so scared of hybrids were also there to watch us killing each other. i wanted them to know what it felt like. i wanted to get rid of the problem at its sourceâhumans. so i killed about 15 guards."
your jaw slackens, but shoko and satoru just remain quietly resigned as suguru speaks.
"i'm sure your wolf friend has told you, but the penalty down there for killing even a single human is to put us down." suguru tongues his cheek as he recollects. "i managed to escape when they were taking me to the facility to be put down. i laid low for a while, but i never heard that they were looking for me. i suppose they figured i'd die on the streetsâto them i was dead anyway. so they didn't put much effort into finding me."
the panther watches your reactions with strict attention. "your friend toji is different. from what you say, he was a big money maker. no wonder he was so freaked about getting caught and sent back thereâthey'd actually want him back."
you mentally try to sort through the information, and the panther smirks wryly. "what? you scared now that you know i killed humans?"
despite yourself, you laugh, but it comes out pained and disheartened. "no not reallyâit sounds like they deserved it so i'm not really scared of you per se âŠ" you huff out another scoff. "but who knows? toji always said i had shit survival instincts âŠ"
shoko laughs quietly, sympathetically reaching forward to touch your knee. "i'm sure he'll be back. maybe he just wanted to leave until the heat dies down to keep you safe. and i doubt he went far. i have a feeling we'll find him. plus, from whatever you told me, it sounds like you both are pretty close."
"i'll say," satoru snorts, rolling his eyes. it's the first time he's spoken since you all sat down. "he's so obvious about it, and i haven't even met the guy."
shoko shoots him a warning glare, but you quirk a brow in confusion. "what do you mean?"
"you smell of him," satoru mutters, crossing his arms. his ears twitch in mild agitation, and your confusion doesn't wane.
"mhm, it looks like he's scented you," suguru comments lightly, tilting his head.
"yeah." satoru wrinkles his nose, ears flicking irritably. "reeks of dog."
you blink owlishly. you'd heard of scenting before but not in much detail. shoko seems to catch your hesitation and interjects quickly. "it's not bad! it's just a thing most hybrids do to people they're close to or care aboutâlike family or really close friends orâ"
"âa mate," satoru interrupts pointedly. shoko glares at him, and then smacks his head hard enough that he yowls at her. "what?! it's fucking trueâ!"
"point being ⊠he clearly thought you were important enough to leave his scent on you," suguru placates, shrugging. "whatever it is, hybrids don't just scent random people. they do it when they wanna either protect or stake a claim."
your heart stutters embarrassingly, but you manage a nod, looking between the three cat hybrids. "well, thank you guys ⊠i know you said you haven't seen him but if you doâ"
"i'll call you asap." shoko smiles comfortingly, reaching out to squeeze your hand. "and the three of us will look around nearby too."
"thanks sho," you smile back, but it feels weak and forced. she seems to see the sadness in your expression as you stand up, because she gives you a side hug even though she's not the biggest fan of touch. you thank the three of them at the door, and shoko tells you she'll keep checking in on you, before letting you leave.
it feels like crap, for lack of better word, to leave unsuccessful in your endeavors. a part of you is so irritated at the stupid wolf hybrid. after all you did to bring him into your home, into your life, he fucking runs away. sure, you could understand his anxiousness, but that's something the two of you could have faced together⊠right?!
(it's almost embarrassing when you realize you'd be willing to throw everything away if it meant keeping toji at your side. you think that maybe that's far too selfish to be acceptable.)
a week passes, then two, then three. you spend your time searching, bugging your friends, hoping and praying that the grumpy wolf you've come to love shows his face again.
but he doesn't.
you're not prideful enough to hide the fact that it makes you miserable. even now, a month and a half later, it feels like you've barely smiled. you feel annoyed, upset, a little cheated, and far too worried about him.
but it seems like no matter how hard you search, toji doesn't want to be found.
a few weeks later, you head into a small cafe you and toji have frequented together beforeârun by a sweet elderly koala hybrid. not that you expected to see toji or anything, but a distraction from rotting in your apartment and feeling its emptiness was welcome.
you peruse the menu, order something decent, and chat with the old lady. when she notices toji's absence, you can only stammer out a flimsy excuse ("oh haha! he just went to visit his family for a few weeks!").
when you leave with your drink, you pass by one of her staff members who's sweeping the street outside. the only reason he catches your eye at first is because of his sheer sizeâit was hard to believe the sweet little lady you had just spoken to employed someone so dangerous looking at her quaint little coffee shop.
not that there was anything wrong with that. it was just an observation because⊠well, he was dangerous looking.
massive, hulking in a way that reminded you of toji, vibrant pink hair, and markings on his face that matched the black tiger stripes on his ears and tail.
you're about to look away when you catch sight of the numbers branded on his neckâ1101. oh. so he's from underground too.
you don't mean to stare, but when he catches you looking, his temper seems to flare within a millisecond.
"what the fuck are you lookin' at?!" he snaps, claws extending and tightening around the broom he's holding. you take a step back warily as his tail puffs up. you were the last person to assume hybrids were scary, but this dude just seemed to not have the greatest temperament.
"sorry," you mumble, catching yourself and looking away. "you just remind me of someone i knew."
the tiger snorts, rolling his eyes. "whatever the fuck that means," he mutters, before going back to his work without giving you another glance. you clear your throat awkwardly, and start moving again.
but as you walk by him, he freezes. his scarlet eyes go wide, then narrow, and then a firm claw is snaking around your arm.
"heyâ!" you start to protest, but he whirls you around to face him, a heated scowl on his face as his nostrils flare.
"where the fuck is he?"
"what?!" you balk, startled and more than a little freaked out. "what are youâ?"
"that dumb shithead toji. i need to beat his ass for just taking off and leaving me to deal with that bastard shiuâ"
but the rest of his words are lost on you. you hear the name toji and immediately lock in, grabbing the tiger's shoulders without any set of proper survival instincts. he snarls at the sudden intensity of your gaze, more confused than angered, and starts to curse, but you interrupt him resolutely.
"you know toji?!"
he curls his lip at you. "know him? that fucker has been annoying the shit out of me for years! i should kill him for fucking taking off without a wordâ"
"you came from there too?" you interrupt him, feeling a bit hysterical. "underground? have you seen him?"
your barrage of questions and the no doubt crazed look in your eyes seems to piss him off further.
"hold the fuck up, lady." the tiger tears you off of him with an irritated growl. "who the fuck are you anyway?"
you huff, irked at the lack of information, and he quirks a brow dangerouslyâhalf angry and half judgemental at your clear disregard for your own safety. you spend the next three minutes giving the tigerâsukuna, he called himselfâa rundown of your time with toji. he mocks and laughs at your utter stupidity when you mention you just took toji in off the streets, but you're too eager for information or a connection to the damn wolf that you don't even care.
"well damn ..." sukuna smirks after you finish speaking, a sharp feline thing that would make anyone shit themselves. "that bastard really settled down with someone."
"oh noâ" your cheeks warm unwittingly. "not like that, but you know, i do care about him. and now he's run off âŠ"
sukuna's smirk drops into something more neutral, and he drags a rough palm over his chin. "well it's not like i've seen him. and the dick didn't leave any way to get in contact with him after he ran from that shithole."
you don't put much effort into keeping the disappointment out of your face, exhaling heavily. sukuna studies your face with something that looks like disinterest, but his eyes are focused and assessing. "⊠the guy's always been paranoidâalways wanted to run."
"yeah i get it âŠ" you rub your eyes wearily, changing the subject. "did you just escape?"
"few weeks ago," he grunts, smacking the end of the broom against the ground absentmindedly. "that fuckass dog ran, and a few of us decided to try the same thing."
he smiles sharply, thinking back. "after one of my regular fights, i killed a few human guards, which immediately got me sent to the slaughterhouse. ran from thereâwasn't too hard. fuckin' idiots."
oh, you think back. the same way suguru had escaped.
"made it out and then didn't know what the fuck to do with myself. by the third night i was fucking starving, but then i bumped into that old hag." he juts his chin towards the sweet old koala padding around her coffee shop. "fed me, let me sleep inside. then said if i wanted a job, she needed someone to help her with heavy shit and all that âŠ"
sukuna rolls his eyes, but there's no malice to it. "figured it's free cash until i can find a place âŠ"
"makes sense. toji only waited a few weeks to let his wounds heal before he started working too âŠ" you trail off at the thought, lips twisting sadlyâgods above, you missed him so bad.
sukuna's lip curls, and he shifts a bit. "yeah well it's not like they treat us like royalty down there."
you glance up at him, gaze calculating as it drags over his faceâhis ears raise in a show of wary threat. "what?" he snaps.
"⊠are you? injured i mean �"
he sneers at you, sharp teeth flashing irritatingly. "none of your goddamn business."
at this point you've dealt with toji's meanness, and on top of that you're pissed he leftâso right now the angry scowl on this tiger's face isn't setting off any warning bells, so you continue speaking without a care. "scratches from your fights, maybe? toji had a bunch of those ⊠took a few weeks to get better."
"fuck off," he grumbles, arm subconsciously tensingâguarding, you realizeâand you sigh.
"it'll probably get infected, y'know? and then you'll suffer and die a horrible death," you say matter-of-factly, and he throws you an incredulous glare.
"dramatic much? don't you have places to fucking be?"
"just admit it and i'll leave you alone."
"fuckingâ!" he cuts himself off and yanks his sleeve up with a snarl, exposing a couple of deep gashes, still struggling to heal on their own. "you happy now? god, you're fucking annoying as shit!"
you're sure he has many more wounds across his body, and his anger isn't really phasing you for some reason (no survival instincts, toji had said to you), so you cross your arms and begin speaking.
"i have a doctor friend. he's a bear hybrid named kento nanamiâi can give you the address. he helps out hybrids, especially strays and runaways. but specifically, he has a human assistant who can help yâ"
"you're crazy. i'm not asking for help from a damn human," sukuna growls, lip curling angrily. but you roll your eyes, fed up with the stubbornness of hybrids.
"oh please. would you rather die of infection? no. so shut up and listen to me." you huff at him before continuing on. "one of nanami's workers is really skilled with stitches and wounds. and they're pretty well versed with injuries like that."
you point at his arm. "they can patch you up, give you any meds, and help you slowly regain function in that arm. plus nanami's clinic keeps your identity secret, so it's safe."
sukuna's staring at you with open distrust, but his ears flick, hanging onto every word as you talk. "you should go visit. ask for that humanâtheir name's uraume. they're really good. and nanami will be happy to help. i took toji there, too. you mention his name or mine, and nanami will know who we are."
sukuna's eyes are narrowed, but he studies you with a new sort of interestâlike you're a small animal on display at the zoo which he finds somewhat entertaining. he spends the next few minutes grumbling as you give him your contact information and nanami's number, but he doesn't hesitate to take both. you tell him, no matter how pointless, to give you a call if he happens upon any mention of toji anywhere, and you get a semi-convinced grunt in return.
he seems about done talking to you, turning back to his sweeping duties with a roll of his eyes and the contact information tucked in his pocket. you can't help but smile wrylyâhe was mean, but still just another distrustful hybrid. so much like toji.
you wondered if they got along.
satisfied with your outing even without much progress on the toji front, you turn to leave⊠but pause when something hits you.
"⊠how'd you know?" you call out to sukuna's back curiously, watching his gaze land on you once he turns. "that i knew toji?"
"you kidding?" he grunts, gesturing to you with a heavy hand as he rolls his scarlet eyes. "the idiot scented you. you reek of him all over. fuckin' possessive bastard, so damn obvious âŠ"
you stare at his back as he turns away to continue sweeping, swallowing tightly. it's only slightly sick, but for a solid second, all your sadness at toji's abrupt departure takes a back seat just so you can feel strangely pleased about yourself. shoko's hybrid friends had said the same thingâscentingâand while you don't know exactly why he did that before he left you, the implications aren't making you feel anything but sickly thrilled.
"whatever it is, hybrids don't just scent random people," suguru had said. "they do it when they wanna either protect or stake a claim."
(what a thought.)
****
you⊠are pathetic.
you feel pathetic, anyway. because toji's been gone for almost three months, and you're still moping. going to work and coming back to an empty house feels like crap. picking up your phone to text him about groceries only to catch yourself feels like crap. passing by his bedroom where everything looks too neat and pristine and unlived in feels like crap.
essentially, you've forgotten what it was like to live without toji. a part of you truly wonders how you ever got on without him. it baffles you how quiet your apartment is when you're by yourself, how boring watching tv is without an influx of snarky comments, how uneasy it feels to not constantly be bickering or laughing with someone.
it's your patheticness that keeps you stupidly hopeful that he'll come back. sure, the hope's been dwindling as more time passes, but still you hang onto it with desperationâbecause you don't wanna think about having to move on without knowing where he is and how he's doing.
which is why you've gone back to the beginning. it's like clockwork, the way you come home from work, take out the meat pieces you've cut up from the fridge, and dump them in toji's designated plate. everyday without fail, you slip your shoes on, head into the alleyway beside your apartment, and wordlessly put his plate on the floorâjust as you did for him all those months ago.
the only difference this time is that the plate remains untouched.
with each passing day, that still full plate hurts less and less. not because you aren't saddened that he hasn't come back, but because you're losing hope that he ever will.
and that thought aches like nothing else has before.
month 1, month 2, month 3⊠and no sign of him.
your mind has started settling on the idea that toji is lost to you forever, only tucked within the deepest recesses of your mind.
(perhaps that was the place he was always meant to be from the start.)
****
toji comes back because he can't tell himself no.
it's a mixture of things, really. his new tiny room is above a takeout place that always seems to have the faint smell of burnt oil and old cabbage. the entire spaceâthe bed, the little desk, the small stupid thing that passes for a kitchenetteâwas barely wider than his outstretched arms. it's not like he hasn't lived in worse conditions, but after your sweet apartment, soft couch, and warm shower, toji feels spoiled and a bit too miserable.
he misses your place.
it wasn't like you lived the most luxurious life, but toji had been blessed by the comfort that your space provided him after so many years of torture. and now that he didn't have it anymore, he fucking missed it.
he misses your worn welcome mat, misses the expired bag of pita chips in the back of your cupboard, misses the stack of old mail you've opened but always forget to throw out. he misses your tv remote that has the plastic back missing, misses your one too slow faucet, misses your ladybug toothbrush holder. he misses his bedsheets, misses his place at the foot of your couch, misses the way your doorbell sounded just to rile him up. he misses his damn dinner plate.
unfortunately, no matter how much he wanted to deny it, your place was home for him.
more than anything though⊠he misses you. he misses your dumb voice, your cute laugh, your ridiculous work gossip. he misses your fuzzy pajamas pants and your complaining and your occasional snark. he misses seeing you pretend you don't get teary eyed at dog movies, misses watching you get mad when he put things on higher shelves, misses feeling you drag him to eat ice cream when he swears he doesn't like sweet things.
it's stupid really, but he kinda wishes he took the phone he'd been using with him. there are pictures of you on thereâstupid selfies you'd send from work or screenshots he'd taken when you facetimed from the grocery store to ask what he wanted. you'd probably call them unflattering and yell at him for doing you dirty, but they were you and⊠toji was lacking in you right now.
so it was inevitable that he'd go back. he's been this embarrassing mixture of curious and worried about you. curious if you're holding up okay, if you're taking care of yourself, if you've started hating him for leaving you behind. worried that his crimes have caught up to you, that you're not living on without him, that you're still hoping he comes back.
(but that selfish, sick part of him does hope that last part is true. that you're aching for him the same way he's aching for you.)
toji knows that he's dying to go back because he let his stupid feelings pull the wool over his eyes. he knows that he's gone crazy about you even when he promised himself he wouldn't.
as utterly ridiculous as it sounds, his stupid fucking heart got in the way.
but⊠his biological brain wasn't helping matters.
toji knew that it was only a matter of time before the lack of suppressants that had been shoved down his throat during his time underground would start catching up with him.
it's a weird feeling. a month after he leaves you and he's quietly munching on a piece of fried chicken in his small roomâtired after a heavy workdayâhe starts feeling the first tinges of something different. a dull ache behind his fangs, the smell of the chicken more pronounced to his nose, the subtle warmth to his skin.
it was strange⊠awkward. he hadn't felt anything resembling a free natural rut since his first one at eighteen years old. after that, it was just the muted dull horniness that came once a year while locked up in that fucking cellâno relief, no companion, nothing at all. what's worse is that those suppressants truly lived up to their name and compressed the normally longer rut cycle into a few measly days of heated discomfort.
but because those pills were effective in dulling down the intensity of his ruts and shortened the length of them, toji had forgotten just how they truly felt. the languid descent into the pre-rut haze, the slow build of agitation, the increased temperatures.
he'd find himself prowling the short length of his little rented room, teeth bared in a perpetual snarl as he let his mind race and settle on youâyour voice, your pretty face, your scent.
and then he'd find himself pissed off for no reason at all.
it took a week for him to realize the anger and tension was because he was slowly entering his rut after so many long years without a real one, and the idea of it had sent him into such a deep panic he spent three days locked in his place out of fear of doing something crazy.
like going back to you.
toji holds out for another week before a combination of all these factorsâthe rut, the curiosity, the worry, and the sheer longing he has for youâwins out.
it's really easy for him to find his way back to your neighborhood, your apartment, you.
(something so easy for a dog to find its way home.)
by the time he's there, hiding across the street like some kind of sick stalker, he's internally kicking himself for coming back. you probably hated him for leaving in the first place, and who's to say you even wanted him back? he couldn't blame youâhe'd left like a jackass. he wishes that he'd left a nicer note, maybe a gift to remember him by, maybe a way to keep in contact even though he had left to keep you safe.
toji fully intends to just check that you're doing okay and then leave again. that's all âŠ
except he's underestimated how much you seem to care about him.
because his jaw clicks when he sees you come out of your apartment, fuzzy pajama pants and his plate filled with meat in your hands. he thinks he might vomit. he watches you head into the alleyway, set it down in that spot he first met you all those months ago, and then head back into your apartment looking like you wanted the sky to crash down on your head.
even looking utterly depressed, you look like some kind of sweet angel. toji knows that's his own personal bias, but as he's always said, he doesn't think there's a more beautiful human out there than you. your hair's a bit longer than he remembers, eyes a bit duller. but your pjs are the same, your slippers are the same, your walk is the same.
he'd been gone for three whole months. but also, he'd only been gone for three months.
toji feels like crap. but ⊠he also feels really fucking pleased. not with himself, but at the thought of you missing him. missing him enough to spend every day hoping that he'd come back for that plate of food. it's a sick joyâbut it's there all the same.
he stands there in hiding for a long time. for a second he thinks about boltingâkeeping you safe and away from all his messed up behavior. but then the responsible part of his mind takes a back seat for the more reckless part, and he makes a bad decision.
****
it's another dull friday evening when you set down toji's plate in the alleyway with a sigh, before heading back inside. despite the days all feeling like they were blending together, you are glad it's the weekend. maybe you can sleep through most of it, or mindlessly watch some crap on netflixâanything that would help take your mind off the very significant absence in your apartment.
you heat up your dinner and eat it listlessly, trying not to look at the empty chair where toji would sit across from you. you can still picture the way he'd tear into his food, drag his tongue over his scarred lips as his pointed ears twitched with satisfaction.
(thinking about him this much couldn't be considered healthy for you.)
you dejectedly head out into the alleyway before bed, totally expecting to see another untouched plate as usual. but you freeze in your tracks when you realize that it has been licked clean.
you stare at it for a second, mind trying to catch up with the thought that the plate is empty. at first you think that it might've really been some stray cat, the same thing you assumed when toji first started eating the portions you left out. your mind tries to come up with all sorts of excuses as you head back to your door, frowning dazedly at the plate.
but then a mild shiver travels up the length of your body. your hair stands on end, your spine stiffens âŠ
and then you just know.
when you turn around, you're not even surprised or happy or anything really. you just look at toji with a frownâa bit of anger, a bit of relief, and a lot of hesitation. he's standing in the street without a single expression on his face, perfectly blank and crisp.
he looks good at leastânot underfed or feral or hurt. nothing like the wolf hybrid you first met in your alleyway months prior. his ears flick, and you think there might be a hint of awkwardness in the movement, but you're not quite sure.
(you're doubting you really ever knew how to read toji in the first place.)
when he stays silent, hands shoved deep in his hoodie pockets, your brow twitches. irritation starts creeping up your spine, hands curling tighter around his empty plate. for a second, you're struck by the fact that he left. and not only did he leave, he had the gall to come back and stare at you without a word. no apology for going so suddenly, for all the stress he put you through, for being a fucking coward who left you in the dust and took the deepest parts of you with him.
so, as much as you try, you can't keep the strained anger out of your tone when you push the door open and pin him with an intense stare.
"get inside, toji."
and without a moment's hesitation, he does just that.
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Summary: Your relationship with Zuko and how your friends found out.
Warnings: Implied intamacy???? Bed sharing. Kissing.
Masterlist Ko-fi
- - - - -
You were well acquainted with the Gaang. You'd served as a sort of double agent for them during the war once Zuko had teamed up with them. He knew they'd need some inside information, so he contacted you, knowing full well your ideals did not align with the fire nation.
You're the daughter of the prestigious Admiral Zhou, a ruthless military head who wouldn't hesitate to turn you in if he found out you were leaking information to the enemy.
It was easy to keep them updated. Your father had an ego the size of the moon, always going on and on about his achievements and new findings and whatnot. He was never home for long, leaving you in your mother's care and making it easy to sneak away. You mostly sent messenger Hawks, but once they'd infiltrated the fire nation you met in person.
You mostly met with Zuko, but occasionally, Sokka or Aang would take his place. You didn't mind. It was nice seeing more of the people you were risking your life for.
After the war, once Zuko took over as Fire Lord, he invited you to be a part of his cabinet. You weren't sure why, seeing as how the other members have some sort of military or consulting experience, and you're just a teenager who sent letters.
Strategy meetings were weekly, so you saw Zuko more often than any of the others. They visited when they could, but with the long list of air temple repairs, it was difficult to make time.
Not that you minded. You loved spending time with him, with or without the rest of the entourage.
Zuko was always accommodating to you, even going as far as to offer you a room in the palace 'if you ever need it.' He'd had the room fully furnished and closet stocked with spare outfits.
Occasionally, if meetings ran long, you'd stay in said room. It was a luxury the other members weren't granted, and honestly, it made you feel special.
When all the immediate post-war issues finally calmed down and Zuko had more free time, he always asked you to stick around or come keep him company.
He's the fire lord. He can't easily leave the palace, especially to do regular teenager things like laze around the shops or sneak into theaters, so you were limited to what the palace could offer.
You'd taken to gardening with him, something Zuko found very alluring. You played board games, baked pastries, and anything else you two could come up with.
Before long, you found yourself spending most of your time with him on the property. Occasional sleepovers quickly become several times a week. It wasn't long before you basically lived there, so you bit the bullet and brought the rest of your stuff to the palace.
Within a few months, you shared a kiss near the pond in the garden. Things slowly escalated over the next year or so. That first nervous kiss became the norm. You shared dinners and late night talks, often going so far into the night you'd just crash in his bed.
Before long, your room became obsolete. Your bed was hardly ever touched, your clothes were in his closet, items in his drawers, and toiletries in his restroom.
You'd heard the staff gossip from time to time, which you didn't necessarily mind, but it definitely made you blush. It felt like getting caught despite doing nothing wrong.
For a while, Katara would tease you mercilessly. She didn't know anything, or at least didn't lead you to believe she did. She just liked the idea of everyone finding someone, and you were the only girl Zuko ever talked to.
You went out of your way to cover up the obvious aspects of your relationship when your friends were around. You agreed early on to keep things under wraps, not wanting to harm the groups dynamic if things didn't work out.
But that was almost a year and half ago, and now it felt wrong to say anything. Like you had betrayed their trust somehow. You felt bad for lying to your friends about what was going on, but honestly, neither of you could bring yourself to admit the two of you had been dishonest for so long.
You woke up and patted the bed beside you. It was still warm, but Zuko wasn't there. You got up and picked up a robe off the floor to cover your nightwear. It was unlike him to leave without even waking you, so you'd go see what he was up to.
You exited his quarters and immediately saw the entire Gaang. They just stared at you in shock, having a hard time piecing things together.
"Did you just come out of Zuko's room?" Sokka asked.
"You saw me, didn't you?"
"Are those his clothes?" Katara asked.
You glanced down. They were, in fact, his clothes. You just stared at her, refusing to answer. Of course, Katara would notice they were his specifically and not just standard robes.
Zuko dragged his hand down his face. Of course, this is how they'd find out. Not after a long, thought-out conversation over a planned dinner or outing. They had to see you walk out of his room compromised after an impromptu visit.
They hastled you two for the rest of the day, asking horrifically personal questions and guilt tripping you into answering them. They bothered you for information about your intimate lives and dating preferences.
Late into the night, when the fire and excitement died down, Katara and Toph cornered you about the secrecy. You were huddled up in your room for a girls only sleepover when they decided to attack, giving you no choice but to be completely honest.
"We kept it quiet in case things didn't work out. Then some time passed... and we started feeling guilty about hiding it, and we just never found the right time."
"There didn't have to be a right time. Were your friends, not your subjects."
"I know. There's just a lot of pressure when you're with a friend who also happens to be the Fire Lord."
Luckily, you have amazing friends who understand people make mistakes. They squashed your anxiety about the whole thing, making sure you knew they weren't mad or disappointed.
But that absolutely did not stop them from holding over your heads for the unforeseeable future.
Summary: Your relationship with Zuko and how your friends found out.
Warnings: Implied intamacy???? Bed sharing. Kissing.
Masterlist Ko-fi
- - - - -
You were well acquainted with the Gaang. You'd served as a sort of double agent for them during the war once Zuko had teamed up with them. He knew they'd need some inside information, so he contacted you, knowing full well your ideals did not align with the fire nation.
You're the daughter of the prestigious Admiral Zhou, a ruthless military head who wouldn't hesitate to turn you in if he found out you were leaking information to the enemy.
It was easy to keep them updated. Your father had an ego the size of the moon, always going on and on about his achievements and new findings and whatnot. He was never home for long, leaving you in your mother's care and making it easy to sneak away. You mostly sent messenger Hawks, but once they'd infiltrated the fire nation you met in person.
You mostly met with Zuko, but occasionally, Sokka or Aang would take his place. You didn't mind. It was nice seeing more of the people you were risking your life for.
After the war, once Zuko took over as Fire Lord, he invited you to be a part of his cabinet. You weren't sure why, seeing as how the other members have some sort of military or consulting experience, and you're just a teenager who sent letters.
Strategy meetings were weekly, so you saw Zuko more often than any of the others. They visited when they could, but with the long list of air temple repairs, it was difficult to make time.
Not that you minded. You loved spending time with him, with or without the rest of the entourage.
Zuko was always accommodating to you, even going as far as to offer you a room in the palace 'if you ever need it.' He'd had the room fully furnished and closet stocked with spare outfits.
Occasionally, if meetings ran long, you'd stay in said room. It was a luxury the other members weren't granted, and honestly, it made you feel special.
When all the immediate post-war issues finally calmed down and Zuko had more free time, he always asked you to stick around or come keep him company.
He's the fire lord. He can't easily leave the palace, especially to do regular teenager things like laze around the shops or sneak into theaters, so you were limited to what the palace could offer.
You'd taken to gardening with him, something Zuko found very alluring. You played board games, baked pastries, and anything else you two could come up with.
Before long, you found yourself spending most of your time with him on the property. Occasional sleepovers quickly become several times a week. It wasn't long before you basically lived there, so you bit the bullet and brought the rest of your stuff to the palace.
Within a few months, you shared a kiss near the pond in the garden. Things slowly escalated over the next year or so. That first nervous kiss became the norm. You shared dinners and late night talks, often going so far into the night you'd just crash in his bed.
Before long, your room became obsolete. Your bed was hardly ever touched, your clothes were in his closet, items in his drawers, and toiletries in his restroom.
You'd heard the staff gossip from time to time, which you didn't necessarily mind, but it definitely made you blush. It felt like getting caught despite doing nothing wrong.
For a while, Katara would tease you mercilessly. She didn't know anything, or at least didn't lead you to believe she did. She just liked the idea of everyone finding someone, and you were the only girl Zuko ever talked to.
You went out of your way to cover up the obvious aspects of your relationship when your friends were around. You agreed early on to keep things under wraps, not wanting to harm the groups dynamic if things didn't work out.
But that was almost a year and half ago, and now it felt wrong to say anything. Like you had betrayed their trust somehow. You felt bad for lying to your friends about what was going on, but honestly, neither of you could bring yourself to admit the two of you had been dishonest for so long.
You woke up and patted the bed beside you. It was still warm, but Zuko wasn't there. You got up and picked up a robe off the floor to cover your nightwear. It was unlike him to leave without even waking you, so you'd go see what he was up to.
You exited his quarters and immediately saw the entire Gaang. They just stared at you in shock, having a hard time piecing things together.
"Did you just come out of Zuko's room?" Sokka asked.
"You saw me, didn't you?"
"Are those his clothes?" Katara asked.
You glanced down. They were, in fact, his clothes. You just stared at her, refusing to answer. Of course, Katara would notice they were his specifically and not just standard robes.
Zuko dragged his hand down his face. Of course, this is how they'd find out. Not after a long, thought-out conversation over a planned dinner or outing. They had to see you walk out of his room compromised after an impromptu visit.
They hastled you two for the rest of the day, asking horrifically personal questions and guilt tripping you into answering them. They bothered you for information about your intimate lives and dating preferences.
Late into the night, when the fire and excitement died down, Katara and Toph cornered you about the secrecy. You were huddled up in your room for a girls only sleepover when they decided to attack, giving you no choice but to be completely honest.
"We kept it quiet in case things didn't work out. Then some time passed... and we started feeling guilty about hiding it, and we just never found the right time."
"There didn't have to be a right time. Were your friends, not your subjects."
"I know. There's just a lot of pressure when you're with a friend who also happens to be the Fire Lord."
Luckily, you have amazing friends who understand people make mistakes. They squashed your anxiety about the whole thing, making sure you knew they weren't mad or disappointed.
But that absolutely did not stop them from holding over your heads for the unforeseeable future.
Summary: Caught up in his personal conflict, Zuko completely neglects his marriage.
Warnings: Arranged marriage, forced marriage, whatever. Mentions of violence. Angsty Zuko and reader. Fem pronouns.
Masterlist Ko-fi
- - - - -
You'd married Zuko a little over a year into his reign as Fire Lord. You're the oldest daughter from a noble family, and the council decided it was best if Zuko married someone well liked by the community.
He didn't take it well. He was still hoping Mai would come back to him, and you being there completely obliterated those chances.
Not that there was a shot to begin with. Mai had made it abundantly clear that she wanted nothing to do with Zuko, even if she admitted to still having feelings for him.
Your relationship was staged to be perfect in the eyes of the people. Young love against all odds sort of thing.
The marriage ceremony was beautiful. Your robes were elegant, the flowers were perfect, and even your soon-to-be husband was handsome.
Zuko was charming towards the guests, really selling the story and gaining a lot of trust with his people. He was awkward but personable, something everyone ate up.
But he wasn't like that with you.
As soon as the two of you were away from public eyes, he didn't so much as look your way.
You slept in different rooms and ate at opposite ends of the table. He excluded you from as many duties as he could, stating something about him not wanting to concern you.
Life in a palace was pretty isolating. The only people you could talk to were servants, and even then, your topics were extremely limited.
You'd taken to the gardens as much as possible. It felt nice to be outside and even better to see the plants and animals.
Tending to the flowers was one of the few things you were allowed to do without constant eyes on you. The lonely atmosphere felt intentional instead of forced.
But after a year of this, not even the newly budding flowers could heal your disdain. Your once bubbly exterior had been chipped away by the dread and disappointment that lingered in your heart.
You were truly just a shell of your former self by this point.
There was no change with Zuko. He'd made no effort to get to know you or even just not hate you. Any attempt you'd made in the beginning to soften the relationship had been put out the moment it left your lips. It seemed like public pleasantries would be the extent of your marriage.
You'd long given up on trying to befriend the older women who waited on you. They had no desire to be anything more than the people who got you through the day.
You'd given up on trying to sneak away with the kitchen staff to the market. They feared being held responsible for you, even if you claimed to be plenty capable of taking care of yourself.
All that was really left to do was to just stay quiet and look pretty. The sad fate of the Fire Lord's wife.
You'd been laying in bed all morning. It was one of the few days where nothing was planned. No meetings, no guests, no events- nothing.
Well, at least you thought.
"Miss Y/N, Lord Zuko has requested your presence. We must get you ready immediately."
They'd dragged you out of bed and stuffed you into a pair of your nicest robes. They're doing your hair up and rushing to cover your face in makeup.
"Why am I being summoned?"
"The Avatar and his friends have arrived. They were the ones to request you."
"I see."
It made sense. You had met the Gaang at your wedding, and they were everything you'd expected; kind, loud, and passionate. Just like Zuko was said to be.
At the time, they'd promised to come by often, but you hadn't seen them since. You'd heard something about the rebuilding of the air temple and having some unexpected issues arise, so they just hadn't had time until now.
You met Zuko at the front gates. His friends arrived just after, allowing the servants to take their things to their rooms. Without a word, Katara grabbed your arm and dragged you away with the other girls. You turned back to see the same happening with Zuko and the boys.
They pulled you all around the surrounding area. For the first time in a long time, the dread started to fade away.
You'd bought some new incense, hair pins, and seeds for the flower beds. They were small purchases in comparison to the others, who had gone all out with new clothes, trinkets, and a heap of spicy snacks for Sokka.
You'd suggested several times over the last few hours that it was time to head back to the palace, but only now that it was growing dark did the trio actually listen.
Just as you had begun packing up, a string of explosions started on the next block and made its way towards the plaza you were in.
Toph was quick to make a stone barrier, but that didn't stop the cloud of soot from staining your skin and clothes.
A group of men had emerged from the smoke and revealed themselves to be Ozai supporters. Not everyone was pleased with the fundamentals Zuko was running the country on, so rebels had started causing a bit of an uproar.
Katara, Toph, and Suki did their best to take the men down swiftly, but that didn't stop you from getting injured in the process.
Your forearms had been severely burned when you'd covered your face from an attack. Katara offered to heal you, but it'd have to wait until you got back to the palace where her spirit water was.
The trip back was uneventful. Some of the local guards stationed in the city had insisted on escorting you guys back, which at this point you couldn't deny.
Apparently, word had already gotten back to Fire Lord Zuko, who was waiting at the front doors of the palace for your arrival.
He immediately stepped forward and picked up your hand, letting the scorched fabric fall and reveal your burn. He did the same with the other and sighed.
"Please give us the room."
You watched as everyone filed out of the room, the guards towards the exit and your friends towards the south wing.
"These are severe,"
He cupped your face in his hands and tilted your head so he could get a good look. His thumb swiped over some of the soot on your face.
You were confused by his actions, but the pain from your burns created a bit of a blur in your mind, keeping you from thinking too hard about it.
"The others couldn't protect you?"
"They did what they could. I apologize for the hassle-"
"Why are you apologizing? None of this is your fault."
You opted to stay silent. You weren't sure what to say. This is the longest conversation you'd had in private since you'd met, and you were finding it hard to navigate.
It was silent for a minute. The vibe was awkward, and you desperately wanted to hide away from all of it.
His face contorted slightly, like he wanted to say something but couldn't. You didn't pry. It didn't feel like your place to ask.
"Why don't you head to your room for a bath, and I'll have Katara meet you in there once you're done."
You nodded and made your way down the corridor. You stripped down and opted to just toss your clothes in the trash. Between the ash and scorch marks, there was no saving anything.
The second the water touched your wounds, you winced. Tears pricked your eyes as you watched small bits of charred skin go down the drain. The pain quickly went from a sharp sting to almost mind-numbing. You sat down and let the water just run down your body while you waited for the brunt of the discomfort to pass.
In your hazy state of mind, you hadn't heard the knock on the door, so you were surprised when Zuko entered in much more casual clothing.
When he saw you hunched over on the shower floor, he didn't say anything. He moved to the side of the tub and went to touch you, but you weakly swatted his hands away.
"I'm not comfortable with you being in here whole I'm naked."
"I'm your husband-"
"You're a stranger."
Ouch. Harsh but fair, and he knew it.
"Look, I know I haven't been good to you over the past year, and I'm sorry. We can talk about it more when you're feeling better, but for now just let me take care of you."
Satisfied with his response, you stopped resisting his help. You let him wash your hair and scrub your skin. His touch was gentle despite how rough his hands were.
He never once made you feel uncomfortable. He was thourough but never lingered. It was almost as if this was a normal occurrence.
When he was done, he offered you a towel and left you alone in the bathroom to get dressed. When you entered your bedroom, Katara was on your bed, but Zuko was nowhere in sight.
"Just me. Sorry to disappoint."
"No, no. I'm glad you're here."
You sat in front of her on the bed and let her examine your burns. She positioned your arms for easy access and opened her canister. You watched the water glow and the skin slowly heal itself. It was amazing, nothing like anything youd seem before.
"So," she broke the silence, "Has he warmed up to you at all?"
You were surprised by her words. You weren't sure how much they knew or what all you should say. Last thing you wanted to do was incriminate him.
Sensing your hesitation to respond, Katara clarified her question.
"I know everything, at least, from his side. You can be honest with me."
"Honest?"
"Honest."
A small smile crept onto your face.
"I think you're friend is an ass."
"I couldn't agree more."
You told her everything; the loneliness, the isolation, the lack of, well, everything in your relationship and life. She listened, something you're eternally grateful for. It felt nice just to get it off your chest instead of suffering silently.
"Today was the greatest day I've had in a long time. I got to leave the palace and talk to people and for once it felt like my husband didn't hate me."
"Zuko doesn't hate you."
"Could've fooled me."
"He doesn't hate you. Just talk to him. I know he has a lot to say, and it seems you do as well."
Once your arms were healed good as new, Katara left your quarters and returned to her own. You'd crawled under the covers and passed out, completely exhausted from the day.
The next day, you took Katara's advice and decided to speak with Zuko. You woke up early, before the sun had risen and made your way to his room.
He was surprised to see you, much less in your nightwear at such an hour. He invited you in nonetheless, where you then entered and decided to sit on his bed. You patted the spot in front of you, and he hesitantly sat.
"Katara said we should talk."
"Okay."
Sensing that he wasn't going to be the one to initiate anything, you decided to get the ball rolling.
It was a long conversation. Zuko confessed a lot of things, mostly about bitter feelings towards life and guilt over his actions. He apologized for everything and listened to everything you had to say. He made a lot of promises to be better.
He stuck to his word. He began including you in anything you were welcome to. Dinners became more personal, and eventually, you started sleeping in his room like a proper married couple.
By the time team Avatar had visited again, things had visibly changed. You were both happier, and your once fake marriage had become real. You meshed into the group just fine, making the pseudo family that much bigger.
when avatar aangâs letter accidentally outs firelord zukoâs feelings for his royal advisor. oh my gosh iâve been so obsessed with that^^ picture itâs insane i need him to look at me like that. oh and! flirty!reader kinda
pt.2 here <3 ->
âYour Highness, the Royal Advisor isââ
âSend her in, please.â The guard doesnât even get to finish his sentence before Zuko interrupts him. Itâs practically routine now, he doesnât understand why they need to ask him repeatedly, youâre there practically every night!
Not for nefarious reasons, Zuko would never do that. No, it was your duty as his advisor to talk to him and give him advice pertaining to anything he wishes to discuss, be it the weather, your favourite meals for some reason, submarine formations, or just talking, about nothing in particular, your voice always just had a calming effect on him.
âYour Highness.â You greet him as you enter his chambers, a lavish room fit for the Fire Lord indeed. This wasnât the same chambers that previous Fire Lords had resided in, when Zuko took the throne, he had the Princely palace wing that he grew up in converted to his chambers. The place is beautiful regardless, endless sea of different shades of red that come together just perfectly.
Zuko doesnât look up from his paperwork as you also greet and then dismiss the guard. âZuko.â You call out softly after the door closes, leaving you two alone during this beautiful night. There were several lamps lit across the room, illuminating the entire space in a warm glow, but the moonlight tonight is strong too.
Zuko finally glances up at you at the beckoning of his name, the tip of his lips quirking up in the faintest smile. He has disregarded his royal regalia for the day, the crown and heavy robes resting on the other side of the room. Now heâs in simple, comfortable sleepwear, which does nothing to hide his well-built muscular form underneath.
It was no surprise the friendship between you and Zuko. Youâve known eachother since you were children, you werenât particularly friends, you were just his fatherâs advisorâs daughter that he interacted with occasionally. The only reason he picked you to be his advisor very early into his reign was the fact that you were critical of his fatherâs practices since a young age, privately of course, words only Zuko would hear.
It was only after then that a friendship blossomed. You were around him so much that it was inescapable, you were his closest confidant. You knew everything this about him, you were the only person he felt truly open and comfortable around in the Fire Nation, so it also wasnât quite the shock when Zuko realised the ache in his chest when he saw you was not only platonic or professional but romantic too.
He greets you back with a soft whisper of your name, going back to skimming through whatever the document in front of him was. Zuko cherished moments like this. When it is just the two of you alone, when you could too let your guard down with no watchful eyes and just call him âZukoâ.
You were too dressed in casual wear, robes and the pins and medals that are usually decorated on them missing, simple red dress with a hem that kissed the ground and you walked, like you always were during these meetings with him.
âAvatar Aang sent a letter through.â You announced as you walked across his room, one hand holding up your dress so you donât trip on it and the other waving a piece of parchment around. Zuko is situated in the floor, on a cushion with his legs crossed, a small, short table in front of him with ink, documents and a lamp rested on it.
âRead it out for me?â Zuko asks in a low voice, sleep infecting it and making it gravelly, enough to send a chill down your spine. You feel a slight rush of heat to your cheeks, feeling lucky that he wasnât looking at you. Is it really your fault? Has anyone taken a look at this man? Itâs unfair!
The way the light from the lamp was illuminating his side profile, in the way you could see every contor of his face and scar. He grew up, losing his childish features, replaced with sharp contours of his cheeks, nose and jaw. Zuko glances up at you again, wondering why youâve suddenly gone silent, with you looking away before he caught you staring.
âFlameo Hotman. How goes running the Fire Nation?â You begin to narrate dramatically as you sink into the floor, tucking your legs under the table on the opposite side to Zuko so that you sat facing him. You continue reading, the two issues that the Avatar requires help with, something in Republic City and something related to food. You converse with Zuko, talking through the problems, his sassy remarks extracting chuckles and giggles from you occasionally.
âAnd lastly I am curious, did you tellâOh.â
The documents he was examining earlier is now left abandoned as Zuko was solely focused on you, and now your reaction has his eyebrows scrunching. You were smiling till a moment ago, but whatever you read at the end had the joy leave your face andâŠa smirk stretching across your lips.
You glance up at Zuko from behind the piece of parchment, an odd glint in your eyes, maybe evenâŠheat? Your teeth bite into your lower lip as you glance back at the letter and then back at Zuko. âWhat is it? What does it say?â Zuko questions, the furrow between his eyebrows deepening.
A soft huff of amusement leaves between your bitten lips, trying your best to keep your composure. Zuko watches as you fail and burst out into a giggle, your face reddening slightly. You look back at him, the same glint still in your eyes.
âLastly I am curious.â You start and pause dramatically, the look in your eyes darkening a little. Agni, Zuko swears in his head, this is not helping the ache in his chest, the way you were looking at him, the smile stretched across your lips.
âDid you tell your royal advisor of your romantic feelingsâŠfor her?â You read out, voice dipping by an octave.
Oh.
Oh.
Oh, Zuko is fucked.
âAnd asked if she is a bachelor or not? Seize the opportunity before it slips out of your fingers, my friend!â You finish reading, silently folding it before pressing the letter into the table, looking up at Zukoâs expression of being caught off guard.
The silence is very loud as you two just look at eachother, all color drained from his face and pure amusement on yours. Zukoâs eyes bare into yours and you can almost see the way heâs not only registering what you said but also working out on what to say, clearly unable to think of anything to say.
âDo you have other Royal Advisors I am not aware ofâŠor?â You start, smirk still stretched across your lips. Zuko just blinks at you, his hetrochromatic eyes shining, his adamâs apple bopping as he swallows nervously. âHe was simplyâŠjesting.â Is somehow the only thing he can come up with currently, the usual sassiness you see in him completely disappeared.
âSo youâre not in love with me?â
You say, a little too quickly causing Zukoâs eyes to widen, his scar stretching because of his surprise. âUhâŠâ Zuko quirks, but you smile smirk at him sweetly. âIâŠIts notâŠThatâs, itâs. Um.â His hand comes up to scratch at the back of his neck as you look at him expectantly.
You can see him buffering in real time, the machinery in his brain short circuiting as itâs unable to process whatâs happening. You stay smiling at the Fire Lord as he just stares at you, probably praying for the earth to open up and swallow him whole.
You roll your eyes at his stupor, taking it into yourself to make a move, you prep yourself up into your knees, pressing you palms flat onto the mahogany wood as you lean cross the table as Zuko sits as still as a statue. You lean close enough for your nose to hover right over his cheek and partially his scar.
âI am a bachelor, Your Highness. Veeeery lonely.â You whisper as his face reddens even more before you rush forward to press a kiss his cheek, his skin soft beneath your lips. You feel Zuko let out a harsh exhale as you pull away, standing up to your full height, looking down at him a moment before turning to walk away.
âGoodnight, Zukoâ You wave as you leave.
first time writing for him and i hate this cause itâs like 4am and i need to sleepđđ yeah no i just hate this BUT I MADE THE MISTAKE OF SNEAK PEAKING IT SO NOW I HAVE TO POST IT- anyway. adult zuko has me KSKSKKDKDKDJDJDK
SUMMARY: for better or for worse, the two of you always find your way back to each other. sometimes, itâs kicking and screaming; other times, itâs willingly and quietly. most of the time, itâs done while trading a variety of colorful insults. still, you wouldnât have it any other way.
WARNINGS: fem!reader. canon compliant (MCD accordingly). eventual smut (switch!reader, switch!naoyaâmore warnings will be added in the parts with smut). i took some liberty with 1) zenin clan relationships and 2) cursed energy lore for readerâs technique. naoya is his own warningâheâs gonna give you a lot of whiplash. heavily implied abuse (naobito->naoya). toxic relationship (i stress, toxic relationship). misogyny (obviously). moments of misandry from reader. reader & naoya are quick to turn to violence when theyâre kids đ they fight a lot. liberal use of bitch (naoya to reader). asshole 4 asshole (naoya sucks, so does readerâthe crux of their relationship is that theyâre both so intolerable they can only tolerate each other). reader smokes when sheâs older. depictions of grief in part 2. as always with my fics, reader has personality & background. I think Iâm missing some warnings, pls tell me if you catch anything I missed, there are a lot LOL (WC: 103k)
AUTHORâS NOTE: my LORD someone free me from this man. This was supposed to be a sub5k one shot to get him out of my system, and here we are 50k+ words and 3 parts later âŠâŠâŠ. The day I can be casual about anything will be the day I can be at peace UGH. Anyway!!! I hope you guys enjoy. I plan to have the 2nd part up on Tuesday, and the third part (if all goes well) the Tuesday after. We will see!! MWAH MWAH hope you enjoy!! All comments & reblogs appreciated ehehe, and if you want me to tag you when posted, leave a comment here on the masterlist! Also â iannaâs dividers thank you Ianna mwah mwah
having lots of friends is honestly buns when im trying to read and i cant bc ive somehow been texting non stop for AN HOUR AND A HALF ARE YOU JOKING I-
Warnings: college au. smut. dubcon??? fronting. mentions of alcohol.
Best friend! Satoru, who you tend to make out with after a few too many drinks at his frat's parties. It's not something you put too much thought into. He's a good kisser- a tidbit you found out in high school after confiding in him that you had never been kissed. He, oh so selflessly, offered to fix your little problem, and it's become somewhat of a common occurrence ever since. Consider it a little kick to your otherwise platonic relationship.
Best friend! Satoru, who you somehow ended up kissing stone-cold sober after a grueling night of studying (well, you were studying while he was talking your ear off). Your current course list was intense, to say the least. You'd stupidly put off the hardest classes until your last semester and were now paying the price. After getting the same practice question incorrect four times in a row with varying levels of wrongness, his passive flirting became more and more of an enticing distraction. Before you knew it, you'd been shifted into his lap and pulled into a heated kiss.
Best friend! Satoru, who- not so surprisingly- tastes like candy when his tongue isn't coated with liquor. The kiss isn't nearly as messy as it usually is, undoubtedly due to the lack of impairment. Your fingers glide through his soft hair and tug at the routes. His hands are warm and his grip is gentle. He's fighting himself not to push this too far. It was already a wonder how he'd finally managed to get to this far and he sure as Hell wasn't going to risk ruining it by letting his dick do all the talking.
Best friend! Satoru, who is all too happy to be his pretty best friend's stress relief. Once that initial boundary was crossed, it felt like all the rest were only a wish away. One moment you're just kissing, the next you're in his lap, letting his hands grip the fat of your ass to guide your grinding against his thigh. He's thankful for the body soccer has given him, the taught muscles obviously providing some sort of relief for your aching cunt.
Best friend! Satoru, who uses the image of you cumming on his jeans to fuel his fantasies.
Best friend! Satoru, who finally gets you to agree to fronting- hey, he needs some release, too :( He eagerly pushes down his jeans and boxers, letting his cock come up and slap against his toned stomach. After a few routine pumps, he wastes no time in sliding his pretty dick across your cute little panties, the friction making both of you groan with want. What starts as a respectful motion quickly dissolves into a wicked clashing of teeth and tongue as his length roughly brushes over your swollen clit.
Best friend! Satoru, who almost cums when his dick not-so-accidentally makes its way beneath the silky barrier. You're so soft, so warm, and so responsive to the way his angry red tip glides through your folds. You want to yell at him, cuss him out for breaking your perfectly clear rules, but how can you when you can finally feel him in his entirety?
Best friend! Satoru, who stops caring about any possible repercussions the second his tip catches ever so slightly on your pleading hole. He anchors his knees into your mattress, grabs hold of your waist, and distracts you with a searing kiss as he slides in. Any complaints you may have fall on deaf ears. He's too consumed by how good you feel- how your velvety walls were clearly made for him and him only. You're not fairing any better. Any irritation you may have felt is quickly snuffed out by languid, forceful thrusts. The fog coating your brain only seems to thicken when he pushes your legs a little closer to your chest, his dick finally hitting that spongey spot deep inside.
Best friend! Satoru, who's struggling to bite back his orgasm until you reach yours. He knows you're close. Quiet curses fall from your lips just as he reaches down to rub fast circles on your clit. He fastens his pace when he starts to feel your walls flutter around his cock. It only takes a few seconds before you're gushing around him. Finally, he allows himself to spill inside, the pearly mix of liquids mixing and dribbling out around his cock.
Best friend! Satoru, who pulls out and carefully begins stuffing everything back inside with his long fingers. His refractory period is short, so short in fact that you don't have time to come to your senses before he's pushing back inside of you.
Best friend! Satoru, who is a changed man, and you aren't quite sure if it's for better or worse.
Characters: Sukuna Ryomen, Gojo Satoru, and Geto Suguru
Summary: They proposition you for a baby.
Warnings: Cult Leader!Geto, Heian Era!Sukuna, Canon Gojo. A little smutty, but nothing specific.
Masterlist Ko-fi
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Ryomen Sukuna
Sukuna swears he doesn't play favorites.
He always gives the same response when prompted by Uraume- that he hated everyone equally and that if anything, they were the only person he could tolerate. That specific line of questioning always riled him up, oftentimes making him irrationally angry and defensive.
Despite what he says, everyone on the estate knows he's full of shit. No one else is dumb enough to call him on it out of fear of being brutally murdered, but it's clear he does have a favorite. That fact is only further cemented when he approaches you in the middle of the garden and publicly demands that you give him a child.
"... what?"
"Are you deaf? I need an heir and you're going to give me one. Let's go."
Just like that, you're being slung over his shoulder and carried off. You only manage a peak at Uraume before the door closes, but even they seem surprised by the sudden declaration.
When you finally reach his chambers, he sets you down on his bed and drops his robes to the floor. When you don't move to do the same, he shoots you an impatient look, but you only offer him a confused one back.
"My Lord, I apologize if this is out of line, but what brought this on?"
"I want an heir."
"Yes, but why now? And why me?"
"Are you denying me, woman?"
"No, of course not, My Lord, I'm just- this is all very sudden."
After the initial spark of anger that flashes through him, he does genuinely think about it for a moment. Requesting a baby was quite the ask, and it would be in his best interest to keep you happy. Perhaps he could at the very least answer your questions...
"You are fertile."
"Is that really the only requirement you look for when considering the potential mother of your children?"
"Of course not."
He hates that little look you give him. It's pointed in a way that makes his nerves flair. It's not direct enough for him to ever call you on, but it screams defiance nonetheless.
"I don't have to explain myself to you. You should feel honored to have been chosen. Be grateful, brat."
Your face doesn't change. You only cross your arms and wait for his little tantrum to pass in hopes that he'll be a more willing participant in the conversation.
"What do you want from me?"
"Honesty, My Lord. That's all."
He bares his teeth at you. It's an empty threat- that much you learned long ago. You're well aware of his soft spot for you, and while you typically don't use that against him, you really did just want answers.
In the three years you'd served him, he had never once mentioned wanting children. He'd go as far as to kill any concubine who fell pregnant or even brought the topic up. Something was most definitely amiss, and you weren't one to cave into his ridiculous demands so easily.
After a momentary standoff, he sighs and stands a bit straighter in front of you.
"You are well aware why I have chosen you."
"Am I?"
Oh, if looks could kill you'd be six feet under already. He seems almost... embarrassed? It's not something you've ever seen on him, the red tint to his cheeks and ears are undeniably different from when he's angry. His lower right hand twitches ever so slightly and you can nearly hear his teeth grinding together.
"It is possible, that I may not entirely hate you."
"Careful, My Lord, that almost sounds like a confession."
"If that is what it takes for you to agree, then so be it."
You won't get anything more out of him, at least, not today. You'd been fully expecting him to choose an easy way out, something about biology or hierarchy or whatever, but this? No, this was a thousand times better than anything you could've imagined.
"Now, as to why, My Lord?"
"Is it really so surprising to want a child with you?"
You... don't know how to answer that. His response both does and does not answer your question. You were initially looking for something more, concrete? Something like him needing a successor or maybe needing to prove himself in some way.
Whether he intended to or not, he had given you a very intimate response that you were not in the last bit prepared for.
You were very aware that he treated you differently, not just from the other concubines, but from everyone in general. You had certain privileges that others did not, like joining him for dinners and baths or sleeping in his chambers. He indulges you with little acts of affection, things like kissing and brief touches. You spoke out of turn without consequence and could get away with doing things without his explicit permission.
But all of that was a whole Hell of a lot different than wanting a family. The man would sooner die than admit to liking you, but here he was admitting to wanting children with you. Not wanting an heir, not allowing you the privilege, no- wanting children with you.
"I accept."
"You say that as if you had a choice."
"We're alone, My Lord, there's no need for the tough guy facade."
"It's not a facade. Don't forget I can kill you, woman."
"Mhm, if you say so, My Lord."
Satoru Gojo
"You know,"
He slowly slides his hands up your sides, slipping them underneath the hem of your shirt.
"With the kids being so busy nowadays, I can't help but feel like our nest is a little empty."
He moves his head from its resting position on your head to trail kisses down your face. He pauses at your lips for a moment before continuing down your neck.
"Lucky for us, I know just the thing to fix such a problem."
You're only half paying mind to the attention he's giving you, the majority of your thoughts running over his recent behavior, trying to piece together anything that could've prepared you for the current situation.
He was a little upset when Tsumiki had gone full swing into high school last year. She had lots of friends, joined a few extracurriculars, and took her classes seriously. It didn't leave her much free time for family. You understood, and so did Satoru (albeit reluctantly), but that didn't make it any less bittersweet.
With the new school year starting, Megumi had begun drifting as well, and it didn't help that he was living on campus now. Of course, Satoru was one of his mentors, but that only meant their time together was spent working.
Both kids had always been independent, most likely a side effect of their shitty unconventional upbringing, but it seemed time was only making that fact more apparent.
You'd noticed he'd been a little deflated lately, but you'd chalked it up to extra stress from the council. You never thought it would be over something like this- not that you doubted how much he loved his pseudo-family or anything, he's just never shown any particular interest in expanding at all.
Even now, aside from a few stray comments about missing the kids and prioritizing family dinners, nothing he did really popped out.
"Satoru-"
He pulled away and took your hands in his, bending down a bit to make the height difference less obvious.
"Just hear me out,"
He swallowed hard and squeezed your hands a bit tighter.
"I know it's not something we've really talked about, but I can't stop thinking about it. I love raising kids with you and I don't want it to end."
"Babies and toddlers are a lot different than kids, Satoru."
"I know."
"It's a lot of work. We'd be starting over just as they've become self sufficient."
"I know."
"There's also significant risk associated with having Satoru Gojo's biological baby."
"All the reason to work harder."
Usually, when he wants something, he gives you this sappy, wide eyed, puppy dog stare and tries to bargain wit you. This, however, is starkly different. His gaze is intense, like he's peering straight into your soul, but it's also desperate, like he wants you to say yes but for once in his life, he's not going to pressure you.
Not that he'd have to, honestly.
He's right. You have enjoyed raising kids with him. He's dorky and definitely on the irresponsible side, but he cares for Tsumiki and Megs more than anything else in the world. He'd take them to the park, engage in whatever board games they wanted to play, and always did his best to make it to school events. He's a good dad, and you aren't eager to see the end of the peak quite yet.
The house is also very quiet as of late. There's no bickering, no loud music, and no one pestering you to make snacks. There's no more homework to help out with and no more rides to give. It's rather lonely.
So you put on your best poker face, just to spook him a bit, and focus your gaze on his pretty blue eyes. He looks hopeful. He knows you well enough by now to know you're going to say yes, but that little bit of fear overshadows any certainty he has.
"I think, maybe, possibly, that our family doesn't quite feel complete just yet, and might have room for one more."
That's all the confirmation he needs before he's scooping you up, pressing sloppy kisses against any surface of your skin he can reach, and taking you straight into your shared bedroom.
Suguru Geto
He had truly never thought about the prospect of having kids before. He was seventeen when he took in the twins and life had been pretty hectic since then, not leaving much room for additional personal affairs.
But he couldn't get the girls' words out of his head.
They'd come home from school last week and told him about one of their classmates who had just received a baby brother. He wasn't sure if they knew the scope of what they were asking when they started begging for a little sibling, but it did get him thinking. So he told them he'd consider the idea and sent them off to do their homework.
He wasn't... completely against the idea. He's at a point where he has the means to provide for one more. He loves Nanako and Mimiko more than anything and he's sure he can love another kid all the same, but that wasn't the issue.
It was having another kid that was difficult. He'd essentially kidnapped the twins, and while the deed was justified, he wasn't eager to do it again. Anything formal was off the table, being a mass murderer slash cult leader, and all.
That's when you entered his field of vision. Like an answer to his prayers, you walked past him with a bright smile on your face and a quick 'Good morning Geto-sama' before running off to wherever the girls currently were.
The answer seemed a bit too obvious. You'd joined not too long after he'd taken over, offering support in any way you could. At the time, he was having a hard time adjusting to everything. Raising children was a lot harder than he'd anticipated, mostly due to the trauma they'd endured. You took some of the load off of him. You watched them while he was in meetings, cooked them meals, and made sure they got to and from school when he couldn't.
You're around his age, smart and pretty, and essentially already a mother to his kids. You loved them as much as he did, so surely, you'd be more than happy to help him out with this, right?
"You... want me to give you a baby?"
He wasn't sure what to make of that response. It was ambiguous, and your blank expression didn't lean any one way the other.
"Yes. Nanako and Mimiko would like a sibling, and I've decided to indulge them. Would you be so kind as to help me?"
"I'm not pregnant, Geto-sama."
"I'd hope not."
Your confusion only grew. There was no precursor to this conversation. Just yesterday you were discussing the week's itinerary and what all was expected of you. He hadn't looked at you any differently, hadn't dropped any hints, or asked any strange questions. This was truly out of the blue.
You must've taken too long to continue the conversation because there's suddenly a hand grabbing yours. It's warm and rough, and despite the newness of it, it's grounding.
"Please don't feel pressured to say yes. I'd like an honest answer. This will only work if both parties are consenting."
You hesitate for a moment. It's not like you haven't thought about it before. Not this specifically, but being more of a permanent fixture in Geto household. It's usually a fleeting feeling, a fantasy of sorts. You'd never allowed yourself to mull over it, assuming that it was a lost cause.
"Why me?"
A perfectly reasonable question.
"You're already a mother to my children, what's one more, hm?"
"And this baby..."
"Would be ours, if you're willing if course."
Suguru is actually pleased by your hesitation. A fair number of his followers would jump at the invitation without much thought. He finds it rather pathetic that some would follow him so blindly, so your reluctance only further cements his confidence in his decision.
"And what would all of this mean for me?"
"I suppose you'd be a wife of sorts. 'Nanny' seems a little degrading for someone bearing my child."
He laughs and it immediately cuts through any tension in the air.
While the offer is certainly jarring, denying it had yet to cross your mind. Geto is a harsh leader, sure, but he's incredibly kind to those close to him, and that extends to you. He's a great dad and loves his children, and you're sure any baby of yours would meet the same fate.
"Yeah, okay."
"Good. Why don't you meet me in my quarters after you put the girls to bed."
Summary: Your relationship with Zuko and how your friends found out.
Warnings: Implied intamacy???? Bed sharing. Kissing.
Masterlist Ko-fi
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You were well acquainted with the Gaang. You'd served as a sort of double agent for them during the war once Zuko had teamed up with them. He knew they'd need some inside information, so he contacted you, knowing full well your ideals did not align with the fire nation.
You're the daughter of the prestigious Admiral Zhou, a ruthless military head who wouldn't hesitate to turn you in if he found out you were leaking information to the enemy.
It was easy to keep them updated. Your father had an ego the size of the moon, always going on and on about his achievements and new findings and whatnot. He was never home for long, leaving you in your mother's care and making it easy to sneak away. You mostly sent messenger Hawks, but once they'd infiltrated the fire nation you met in person.
You mostly met with Zuko, but occasionally, Sokka or Aang would take his place. You didn't mind. It was nice seeing more of the people you were risking your life for.
After the war, once Zuko took over as Fire Lord, he invited you to be a part of his cabinet. You weren't sure why, seeing as how the other members have some sort of military or consulting experience, and you're just a teenager who sent letters.
Strategy meetings were weekly, so you saw Zuko more often than any of the others. They visited when they could, but with the long list of air temple repairs, it was difficult to make time.
Not that you minded. You loved spending time with him, with or without the rest of the entourage.
Zuko was always accommodating to you, even going as far as to offer you a room in the palace 'if you ever need it.' He'd had the room fully furnished and closet stocked with spare outfits.
Occasionally, if meetings ran long, you'd stay in said room. It was a luxury the other members weren't granted, and honestly, it made you feel special.
When all the immediate post-war issues finally calmed down and Zuko had more free time, he always asked you to stick around or come keep him company.
He's the fire lord. He can't easily leave the palace, especially to do regular teenager things like laze around the shops or sneak into theaters, so you were limited to what the palace could offer.
You'd taken to gardening with him, something Zuko found very alluring. You played board games, baked pastries, and anything else you two could come up with.
Before long, you found yourself spending most of your time with him on the property. Occasional sleepovers quickly become several times a week. It wasn't long before you basically lived there, so you bit the bullet and brought the rest of your stuff to the palace.
Within a few months, you shared a kiss near the pond in the garden. Things slowly escalated over the next year or so. That first nervous kiss became the norm. You shared dinners and late night talks, often going so far into the night you'd just crash in his bed.
Before long, your room became obsolete. Your bed was hardly ever touched, your clothes were in his closet, items in his drawers, and toiletries in his restroom.
You'd heard the staff gossip from time to time, which you didn't necessarily mind, but it definitely made you blush. It felt like getting caught despite doing nothing wrong.
For a while, Katara would tease you mercilessly. She didn't know anything, or at least didn't lead you to believe she did. She just liked the idea of everyone finding someone, and you were the only girl Zuko ever talked to.
You went out of your way to cover up the obvious aspects of your relationship when your friends were around. You agreed early on to keep things under wraps, not wanting to harm the groups dynamic if things didn't work out.
But that was almost a year and half ago, and now it felt wrong to say anything. Like you had betrayed their trust somehow. You felt bad for lying to your friends about what was going on, but honestly, neither of you could bring yourself to admit the two of you had been dishonest for so long.
You woke up and patted the bed beside you. It was still warm, but Zuko wasn't there. You got up and picked up a robe off the floor to cover your nightwear. It was unlike him to leave without even waking you, so you'd go see what he was up to.
You exited his quarters and immediately saw the entire Gaang. They just stared at you in shock, having a hard time piecing things together.
"Did you just come out of Zuko's room?" Sokka asked.
"You saw me, didn't you?"
"Are those his clothes?" Katara asked.
You glanced down. They were, in fact, his clothes. You just stared at her, refusing to answer. Of course, Katara would notice they were his specifically and not just standard robes.
Zuko dragged his hand down his face. Of course, this is how they'd find out. Not after a long, thought-out conversation over a planned dinner or outing. They had to see you walk out of his room compromised after an impromptu visit.
They hastled you two for the rest of the day, asking horrifically personal questions and guilt tripping you into answering them. They bothered you for information about your intimate lives and dating preferences.
Late into the night, when the fire and excitement died down, Katara and Toph cornered you about the secrecy. You were huddled up in your room for a girls only sleepover when they decided to attack, giving you no choice but to be completely honest.
"We kept it quiet in case things didn't work out. Then some time passed... and we started feeling guilty about hiding it, and we just never found the right time."
"There didn't have to be a right time. Were your friends, not your subjects."
"I know. There's just a lot of pressure when you're with a friend who also happens to be the Fire Lord."
Luckily, you have amazing friends who understand people make mistakes. They squashed your anxiety about the whole thing, making sure you knew they weren't mad or disappointed.
But that absolutely did not stop them from holding over your heads for the unforeseeable future.
Summary: Caught up in his personal conflict, Zuko completely neglects his marriage.
Warnings: Arranged marriage, forced marriage, whatever. Mentions of violence. Angsty Zuko and reader. Fem pronouns.
Masterlist Ko-fi
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You'd married Zuko a little over a year into his reign as Fire Lord. You're the oldest daughter from a noble family, and the council decided it was best if Zuko married someone well liked by the community.
He didn't take it well. He was still hoping Mai would come back to him, and you being there completely obliterated those chances.
Not that there was a shot to begin with. Mai had made it abundantly clear that she wanted nothing to do with Zuko, even if she admitted to still having feelings for him.
Your relationship was staged to be perfect in the eyes of the people. Young love against all odds sort of thing.
The marriage ceremony was beautiful. Your robes were elegant, the flowers were perfect, and even your soon-to-be husband was handsome.
Zuko was charming towards the guests, really selling the story and gaining a lot of trust with his people. He was awkward but personable, something everyone ate up.
But he wasn't like that with you.
As soon as the two of you were away from public eyes, he didn't so much as look your way.
You slept in different rooms and ate at opposite ends of the table. He excluded you from as many duties as he could, stating something about him not wanting to concern you.
Life in a palace was pretty isolating. The only people you could talk to were servants, and even then, your topics were extremely limited.
You'd taken to the gardens as much as possible. It felt nice to be outside and even better to see the plants and animals.
Tending to the flowers was one of the few things you were allowed to do without constant eyes on you. The lonely atmosphere felt intentional instead of forced.
But after a year of this, not even the newly budding flowers could heal your disdain. Your once bubbly exterior had been chipped away by the dread and disappointment that lingered in your heart.
You were truly just a shell of your former self by this point.
There was no change with Zuko. He'd made no effort to get to know you or even just not hate you. Any attempt you'd made in the beginning to soften the relationship had been put out the moment it left your lips. It seemed like public pleasantries would be the extent of your marriage.
You'd long given up on trying to befriend the older women who waited on you. They had no desire to be anything more than the people who got you through the day.
You'd given up on trying to sneak away with the kitchen staff to the market. They feared being held responsible for you, even if you claimed to be plenty capable of taking care of yourself.
All that was really left to do was to just stay quiet and look pretty. The sad fate of the Fire Lord's wife.
You'd been laying in bed all morning. It was one of the few days where nothing was planned. No meetings, no guests, no events- nothing.
Well, at least you thought.
"Miss Y/N, Lord Zuko has requested your presence. We must get you ready immediately."
They'd dragged you out of bed and stuffed you into a pair of your nicest robes. They're doing your hair up and rushing to cover your face in makeup.
"Why am I being summoned?"
"The Avatar and his friends have arrived. They were the ones to request you."
"I see."
It made sense. You had met the Gaang at your wedding, and they were everything you'd expected; kind, loud, and passionate. Just like Zuko was said to be.
At the time, they'd promised to come by often, but you hadn't seen them since. You'd heard something about the rebuilding of the air temple and having some unexpected issues arise, so they just hadn't had time until now.
You met Zuko at the front gates. His friends arrived just after, allowing the servants to take their things to their rooms. Without a word, Katara grabbed your arm and dragged you away with the other girls. You turned back to see the same happening with Zuko and the boys.
They pulled you all around the surrounding area. For the first time in a long time, the dread started to fade away.
You'd bought some new incense, hair pins, and seeds for the flower beds. They were small purchases in comparison to the others, who had gone all out with new clothes, trinkets, and a heap of spicy snacks for Sokka.
You'd suggested several times over the last few hours that it was time to head back to the palace, but only now that it was growing dark did the trio actually listen.
Just as you had begun packing up, a string of explosions started on the next block and made its way towards the plaza you were in.
Toph was quick to make a stone barrier, but that didn't stop the cloud of soot from staining your skin and clothes.
A group of men had emerged from the smoke and revealed themselves to be Ozai supporters. Not everyone was pleased with the fundamentals Zuko was running the country on, so rebels had started causing a bit of an uproar.
Katara, Toph, and Suki did their best to take the men down swiftly, but that didn't stop you from getting injured in the process.
Your forearms had been severely burned when you'd covered your face from an attack. Katara offered to heal you, but it'd have to wait until you got back to the palace where her spirit water was.
The trip back was uneventful. Some of the local guards stationed in the city had insisted on escorting you guys back, which at this point you couldn't deny.
Apparently, word had already gotten back to Fire Lord Zuko, who was waiting at the front doors of the palace for your arrival.
He immediately stepped forward and picked up your hand, letting the scorched fabric fall and reveal your burn. He did the same with the other and sighed.
"Please give us the room."
You watched as everyone filed out of the room, the guards towards the exit and your friends towards the south wing.
"These are severe,"
He cupped your face in his hands and tilted your head so he could get a good look. His thumb swiped over some of the soot on your face.
You were confused by his actions, but the pain from your burns created a bit of a blur in your mind, keeping you from thinking too hard about it.
"The others couldn't protect you?"
"They did what they could. I apologize for the hassle-"
"Why are you apologizing? None of this is your fault."
You opted to stay silent. You weren't sure what to say. This is the longest conversation you'd had in private since you'd met, and you were finding it hard to navigate.
It was silent for a minute. The vibe was awkward, and you desperately wanted to hide away from all of it.
His face contorted slightly, like he wanted to say something but couldn't. You didn't pry. It didn't feel like your place to ask.
"Why don't you head to your room for a bath, and I'll have Katara meet you in there once you're done."
You nodded and made your way down the corridor. You stripped down and opted to just toss your clothes in the trash. Between the ash and scorch marks, there was no saving anything.
The second the water touched your wounds, you winced. Tears pricked your eyes as you watched small bits of charred skin go down the drain. The pain quickly went from a sharp sting to almost mind-numbing. You sat down and let the water just run down your body while you waited for the brunt of the discomfort to pass.
In your hazy state of mind, you hadn't heard the knock on the door, so you were surprised when Zuko entered in much more casual clothing.
When he saw you hunched over on the shower floor, he didn't say anything. He moved to the side of the tub and went to touch you, but you weakly swatted his hands away.
"I'm not comfortable with you being in here whole I'm naked."
"I'm your husband-"
"You're a stranger."
Ouch. Harsh but fair, and he knew it.
"Look, I know I haven't been good to you over the past year, and I'm sorry. We can talk about it more when you're feeling better, but for now just let me take care of you."
Satisfied with his response, you stopped resisting his help. You let him wash your hair and scrub your skin. His touch was gentle despite how rough his hands were.
He never once made you feel uncomfortable. He was thourough but never lingered. It was almost as if this was a normal occurrence.
When he was done, he offered you a towel and left you alone in the bathroom to get dressed. When you entered your bedroom, Katara was on your bed, but Zuko was nowhere in sight.
"Just me. Sorry to disappoint."
"No, no. I'm glad you're here."
You sat in front of her on the bed and let her examine your burns. She positioned your arms for easy access and opened her canister. You watched the water glow and the skin slowly heal itself. It was amazing, nothing like anything youd seem before.
"So," she broke the silence, "Has he warmed up to you at all?"
You were surprised by her words. You weren't sure how much they knew or what all you should say. Last thing you wanted to do was incriminate him.
Sensing your hesitation to respond, Katara clarified her question.
"I know everything, at least, from his side. You can be honest with me."
"Honest?"
"Honest."
A small smile crept onto your face.
"I think you're friend is an ass."
"I couldn't agree more."
You told her everything; the loneliness, the isolation, the lack of, well, everything in your relationship and life. She listened, something you're eternally grateful for. It felt nice just to get it off your chest instead of suffering silently.
"Today was the greatest day I've had in a long time. I got to leave the palace and talk to people and for once it felt like my husband didn't hate me."
"Zuko doesn't hate you."
"Could've fooled me."
"He doesn't hate you. Just talk to him. I know he has a lot to say, and it seems you do as well."
Once your arms were healed good as new, Katara left your quarters and returned to her own. You'd crawled under the covers and passed out, completely exhausted from the day.
The next day, you took Katara's advice and decided to speak with Zuko. You woke up early, before the sun had risen and made your way to his room.
He was surprised to see you, much less in your nightwear at such an hour. He invited you in nonetheless, where you then entered and decided to sit on his bed. You patted the spot in front of you, and he hesitantly sat.
"Katara said we should talk."
"Okay."
Sensing that he wasn't going to be the one to initiate anything, you decided to get the ball rolling.
It was a long conversation. Zuko confessed a lot of things, mostly about bitter feelings towards life and guilt over his actions. He apologized for everything and listened to everything you had to say. He made a lot of promises to be better.
He stuck to his word. He began including you in anything you were welcome to. Dinners became more personal, and eventually, you started sleeping in his room like a proper married couple.
By the time team Avatar had visited again, things had visibly changed. You were both happier, and your once fake marriage had become real. You meshed into the group just fine, making the pseudo family that much bigger.
Summary: Yuuji swears he's being haunted by the ghost of a little girl.
Warnings: Eh, it's mostly Yuuji content. Found family comfort dort of thing. All fluff, all Itadori being stupid.
Masterlist Ko-fi
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Yuuji harshly rubbed his eyes, trying to get the blur to recede as quickly as possible. His other hand reached across his nightstand, knocking over a few figures as he tries to switch on his lamp. When his vision clears and his room is well lit, he's finally able to focus his sight on the doorway.
He swears he could feel someone staring at him. While the room and corridor were pitch black and he couldn't make out any details, the small silhouette made it clear that it was a child. Unfortunately, by the time he had caught his bearings, the figure was gone and there was nothing left in the dark hallway.
He got up peaked out into the hall. When nothing caught his eye, he pulled his door shut, clicking the lock into place and giving it a tug just to ease his nerves. It's probably best that he start making sure to do that every night.
The scare had left him on edge and he found himself tossing and turning the rest of the night. Maybe Megumi was right about watching scary movies before bed... not that he'd admit that to him.
He decided to keep the odd encounter (if it could even be called that) to himself out of fear of being ridiculed by his friends. They already gave him a lot of shit as is. Telling them about the ghost child who visited him last night was sure to end poorly for him, especially since he had no proof.
While the daylight had mostly kept the anxiety at bay, the dread of night brought it all back full force. That night, in a desperate attempt to lessen his paranoia, Yuuji made his way to the kitchen for some tea. The kettle was set, chamomile ready to be steeped, and now all that was left to do was lose himself in his thoughts while he waited.
The rational part of his brain was trying to convince him that he was being stupid- that there were no spooky ghost kids running around Jujutsu High, but he couldn't shake it off that easily. He'd had his fair share of nightmares, and this felt starkly different than any of those. It was far more real than anything he'd experienced before.
Just as the water began to steam, he felt that same eerie change in the air.
He peered around the open entryway, raking his eyes over everything he could make out in the darkness. Just as he was about to chalk the whole thing up to his shot nerves, he saw it- a flash of white moving towards the first year's dorms.
With no plan in mind or any regard for his own safety, he bolted after the cause of his anxiety, chasing it down a maze of hallways before the lead eventually ran cold. It's like the entity had vanished into thin air, not a single sound or residual left behind.
Though he was spooked to his core, he at least knew that he had, in fact, seen something last night.
As he made his way back towards the kitchen, he debated what to do with this newfound information. While he was entirely sure that he was being haunted, he still couldn't take this issue to Megumi or Nobara. They were nonbelievers and would use the opportunity to pick on him even more than they already did.
He had no choice but to deal with the situation himself.
That's how he found himself crouched next to his open bedroom door at two am the next day. He'd stayed up all night in preparation for what he dubbed as 'The Hunt' and he was now in the height of it all.
It wasn't long before he heard the pitter-patter of small feet, further confirming that this ghost must be a child. He fixed his posture and moved to a more suitable angle as the steps grew closer. When he saw the faintest bit of white hair illuminated by moonlight, he darted out, grabbing the creature by its calf and hoisting it into the air.
"Gotcha!"
Before he could reach the light switch in his room, it let out a loud, ear piercing scream. He had half a mind not to immediately drop it in an attempt to protect his hearing.
Alerted by the commotion, Megumi's door slid open and two Hell Hounds tumbled out. They raced towards him, only stopping just short of the pair. The brunette wasn't too far behind, his hands fixed in a bird-like position in preparation for whatever could be going on.
In the newfound light from his room, Yuuji finally got a good look at what had been following him all this time. Long white hair, fair skin, and pale blue eyes. The little girl was ghostly for sure.
"Itadori? What the Hell are you doing?"
"I caught the ghost that's been haunting me!"
"... what?"
Megumi, realizing that there was no actual threat, lowered his hands and released his dogs. While his posture became less rigid as the adrenaline slowly left his body, Yuuji's only seemed to increase, the stupid look on his becoming more dramatic.
He shook her back and forth like a freshly caught fish, completely oblivious to the panicked tears gathering in her eyes.
"A ghost, Fushiguro! I caught it!"
"That's my sister, idiot."
"Your sister is a ghost?!"
Megumi resisted the urge to punch him, opting to free the poor kid from his monstrous grip instead. He took a firm hold of her and gently flipped her into a more comfortable position. She didn't hesitate to cling to him, hugging him tight and burying her face into his neck.
"No, she isn't a ghost."
"But, she was staring into my room the other night!"
"It's a big school. She probably got confused on the way to my room and couldn't see."
"She was running through the halls in the middle of the night! She totally disappeared when I chased her!"
"She's scared of the dark, probably wanted to get out of it as fast as possible. And she didn't disappear, she just came into my room."
"She's so, so... pale!"
"Yeah, it's a clan thing."
Yuuji stared between the visible portion of the girl's face and Megumi's. He brought his thumb and forefinger to his chin and narrowed his eyes.
"I thought the Zen'in were all dark hair and brooding? And you said Tsumiki was older than you!"
"Are you being serious right now?"
Yuuji had the gall to look offended. Megumi, while typically mild-mannered, is actually close to snapping. It's the middle of the night, his sister is upset, and Itadori's brain is running even slower than usual.
He sighs and grips the little girl tighter. His face must portray how irritated he is, because Yuuji starting to visibly sweat. He looks nervous, if not a little ashamed. It must be dawning on him how absolutely ridiculous this whole ordeal is.
"First of all, you've only met me and Maki. Zen'in don't have a standard look. Second, Tsumiki is older. This is Saori. I have two sisters. Third, she's very obviously Gojo's kid."
"Gojo has a kid?"
If looks could kill, Itadori Yuuji would be a dead man right now.
"Yes. She's staying on the grounds while Gojo and Y/N are away on business. Were you not paying attention when Yaga was explaining this last week?"
Heat flooded Yuuji's face. No, he hadn't been listening. Megan Thee Stallion's new album had just dropped and he had his headphones in throughout the entire meeting. He shifted on his feet, not knowing how to answer without further infuriating his friend.
Megumi let out the most exhausted sigh he could manage and glared at the pink haired boy.
"Go to bed, Itadori."
He turned around a took a single step forward before pausing. He swiveled his body just enough to side-eye Yuuji. The look was different than the one from a moment ago. It was more pointed, damn near threatening.
"And Itadori?"
"Y-yes?"
"If you ever scare my sister like this again, I'll be sitting front row of your execution with popcorn."
And with that, he went straight into his dorm, gently sliding the door shut behind him and leaving Yuuji in the dark.
He couldn't help but think that, while Fushiguro's threat was still heavy in the air, at least he didn't have to worry about the ghost anymore.
- - - - -
"Yuuji!"
Said teenager whipped around, his smile growing even bigger at the sight of his favorite teacher. For just a moment, the recent slipped his mind. He was too caught up in the crushing hug Gojo had caught him in.
"I heard Saori gave you quite the scare, kid."
As predicted, he'd been teased relentlessly over the past few days. Word about the supposed ghost and its not-so-heroic capture spread pretty quickly (small school and all). By lunch, everyone had made more than their fair share of jokes at his expense.
"Please don't tell me you're going to make fun of me too, Gojo-sensei,"
The older man laughed at the pouty face Yuuji sported. He set the boy on the ground and let one his big hands come down on top of his head to ruffle the pink locks.
"Wouldn't dream of it!"
Relief drowned out any lingering worry, but it was quickly washed away when Gojo leaned in a little too close to his face, a sinister smile stretching across his face. He used his index finger to pull his blindfold up just enough to make eye contact.
"No, see, I came here to tell you that Saori is my baby girl, and if you ever manhandle her like that again,"
He paused, a bone-chilling chuckle falling from his lips.
"Let's just say I'll make sure you have a closed casket at your funeral."
Before the words could even process in his mind, Gojo was already securing the cloth back into place. His typical grin had returned and stepped back to greet the incoming second years.
Yuuji visibly gulped. What was it with people threatening him? It was an honest mistake!
Summary: An uninvited guest on Kakashiâs doorstep might be a little trouble, but it's worth it in the end.
Warnings: canon compliant violence, mentions of blood and death, reader is in shock, medical equipment.
Word Count: 5.2k
Masterlist Ko-fi
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"I'm sorry, I um- I don't know why I'm here."
Out of curiosity, Kakashi cracks his front door open just a bit wider so he can get a better look at you. You're in your anbu attire, blood coating your clothes and splattered on your face. Your hands are shaking and you're shifting on your feet. You look manic- pupils blown and an unreadable expression on your face.
"It's kinda funny that I am, though, right? Knocking on your door in the middle of the night, covered in blood like a lunatic."
He peeks out into the hall, but there's no one else. No secondary footprints or chakra residuals. It's just you, like you said, covered in blood like a lunatic.
"You don't even like me and yet I still came here. I could've gone, well, anywhere else. I probably should've gone home... or the Hokage's office."
In your senseless muttering, you had gotten it right- you should've gone somewhere- anywhere- else. Why come here? While he's never been unnecessarily mean, he'd also never been kind to you, and yet here you are, waking him up at three in the morning, talking his ear off in some sort of haze.
"He'll probably want an update on my mission. He has to send a recovery team for the others, too. I think I need a medic before that, though. I hope he doesn't mind waiting."
He furrows his eyebrows at your rambling. You've always been a talker, but never like this. Never this unorganized and rushed, like your only goal was to fill the silence the night brought-
Wait.
"Recovery team?"
"It's kinda cold out don't you think? Usually, we have a few more weeks until it snows, but I think it's coming sooner this year. I've been trying to knit a blanket between missions, but I don't think I'll finish it before-"
You don't answer. You don't even acknowledge that he's said anything at all. You just keep talking. He's not sure what possessed him to do so (maybe it's his trauma responding to your off handed comment about a recovery team), but against better judgement, Kakashi sets his hand on your back and guides you inside his apartment. He locks the door before sitting you at his dining room table and searching around his cupboards for a cloth. He wets it, rings it out, and turns towards you.
"I found some really pretty yarn in Suna last year. Forest green and dandelion yellow and the most beautiful shade of blue I've ever seen. The woman who makes it gave me a pattern for an Afghan, said it's perfect for winter."
He wipes the cloth across your face, folding it over a few times to get as much blood as possible (why was there so much?) before returning to the sink to rinse it out and start again. He notices how you continue to stare straight ahead, completely unbothered by anything he's doing. Your words never falter, not even when he takes a firm hold of your face to make his task easier.
"I have four chakra natures... never really picked up lightning if I'm being honest. Did you know that? Nevermind, you're Kakashi, of course, you know that."
He tosses the rag into the sink and slowly moves to undo your weapon holster. It's light, and a quick peak in the pocket confirms that there's nothing left in there. He sets it aside, not really caring about the red puddle it's creating on the floor. He removes your gloves and kneels to untie your shoes.
"I copied that mudslide you use, by the way. It's crazy... changes the entire course of a battle in a split second. I'd say I hope you won't mind, but I know you will. You always mind when it comes to me."
He had you stand up and ushered you towards his bathroom. He turned on the faucet and tested the water to make sure it was warm. He grabbed the hem of your shirt and tapped your side, hoping that somewhere in your spaced out mind you'd get the hint and undress yourself. Lucky for him, you did, but not without falter.
"Your apartment's nice by the way. Very clean and organized and looks like someone actually lives here. All I have is a bed and a dresser. I don't have much time to appreciate anything else."
The motion was less than graceful. You used one hand to slip the tight fabric over your head and down your left arm, which stayed at your side despite the obstacle it caused. You expertly unclipped your bra and let it fall forward off your shoulders and to the ground, and had your pants and underwear there a second after. He doesn't stare, partially because he's already seen you naked before in the locker room from time to time, and partially because even in his perverted mind, he knows it's not the time.
"When I retire one day like you, I want my apartment to be just as homey. I'll be able to enjoy it since I'll be home longer than a day at a time."
He isn't too sure what to make of the current situation. He's pushing you under the showerhead, absently listening to you drone on, but all he can think about is how off-putting the whole thing is. You'd been in ops for a long time- long enough to not warrant a reaction like this after just any mission. Despite any sort of way he may have felt about you in the past, you've never been one to be affected by the carnage, a quality he's always appreciative of in his teammates. So what the Hell happened?
"My fifteenth anbu anniversary is coming up in December. Owl said he'd throw me a party, but I guess that's not happening anymore."
Your eyes fall from the wall in front of you to the drain on the ground. The water is muddy- the blood, sweat, and tears acquired from a month-long mission being washed away like nothing.
"I don't think I even like parties. I've never had one, which is why he offered in the first place. He wanted to celebrate my birthday, but I wouldn't tell him when it was. Drove him crazy."
Why is he even doing this? He must be losing it, honestly. Standing behind you, washing your hair as his clothes get completely soaked. This isn't something he's ever done, and even now, it's something he could never imagine doing for anyone else. You used to annoy the shit out of him, following him around in your youth and trying to be overly friendly when he clearly wasn't interested. If sixteen-year-old him had seen him in this moment, he'd surely have a fit.
"It's June 2nd, by the way. I don't think I've ever told anyone that. I don't even know why I told you. It's fine. You probably won't remember and even if you do, you aren't much of a gossip."
When the bulk of the debris is cleared away, he finally gets a good look at what's causing you to favor one arm. A gash curves around your shoulder blade and wraps around your torso, going all the way down to your pubic bone. It's deep and jagged, most likely from a dull kunai.
"I bet I'll get a few days off after this. Gai has been pestering me for a while now to try that new cold soba place. I think I'll go. He'll probably ask you to go, which would be nice, especially if Kurenai and Asuma come."
He hands you a soapy washcloth and watches as you diligently clean your hands. It's interesting, the way you scrub under your fingernails and between your fingers. It's probably muscle memory from years of trying to get the image of blood off your hands. He thinks, for only a moment, that maybe you aren't so different from him, you just put up a different front.
"I can't wait to have a nice meal. I'm so fucking sick of the MREs. It's a dumb thing to care about, but I think it's the smaller stuff that matters in this line of work."
He dries your hair before handing you the towel, leaving you to finish it off so he can grab you some clothes, changing his own while he's in there. Just sweats and a tee, and a pair of briefs if you'll take them. He hands you the bottoms first, withholding the top until he can get a better look at the wound.
"We were gone an extra week. My neighbor's gonna lecture me for sure this time. She always worries that I won't come back."
He thought for a moment, debating on whether or not he should outsource your injury. Honestly, even with immediate medical ninjutsu, this severe of an injury, not to mention how old it seems to be, is sure to leave a pretty nasty scar. Jostling you around to get across the village to the hospital may do more harm than good at this point in time.
"She's got three kids. All super loud, but they're really sweet. They think I'm the coolest person in the world, always saying they wanna be like me when they grow up. God, I hope they realize they should want more."
He grabs the first aid kit from the closet in the restroom and pulls up a chair next to his bed. He pushes you face down onto the mattress, your words becoming slightly muffled by his pillow. He's only ever stitched himself, and even then it was just a few here and there, not a hundred.
Your skin is soft compared to his rough hands. You seem like the kind of person to take care of yourself whenever possible, so he supposes it's not too surprising. He almost feels bad, being an accomplice to the desecration of your otherwise flawless body, but there's nothing to be done. All he can do is try and be as precise and delicate as possible and hope the wound heals nicely.
"Kumo is really nice this time of year. They don't have a lot of greenery but their flowers bloom around this time, just before the first snow falls- AH!"
It was like someone woke you up with a bucket of ice water to the face. You flinch hard when he sticks the needle through your skin. The area is tender, obviously, and the not-so-gentle tug of your flesh is enough to knock you out of your shock.
"Ah, there she is."
In the onslaught of your panic, you don't register, well, anything. You start to get up and the fact that you're half naked on his bed goes over your head. Before you can even prop yourself up onto your elbows, he's pushing your body down, large hands taking up the majority of your uninjured back.
"Relax. You're gonna fuck up the clotting if you keep squirming like that."
You lower yourself, but can't seem to loosen up at all. The blood loss and adrenaline crash are making your head spin. You feel sick and disoriented, and can't seem to to get a grip.
"Seriously, relax. Can't do what I need to if you keep freaking out."
You try to focus on his hands. They're rough from years of training, calloused, and strong as any other man would be, but the way he rubs his thumb back and forth over your spine is soft and doting. Years of unfamiliarity and pushback have left you hardly knowing him at all, but even you can tell this is his way of saying he's calm, and you should be too. Kakashi is a reasonable man, and it's safe to lower your guard around him.
When your breathing evens, he continues with the sutures as if it were nothing, emitting the same energy someone would put towards sudoku. Without the cushion of shock and adrenaline, you can feel how serious the wound really is. You push the unsettling feeling of the cool air against your exposed muscle to the back of your brain, preferring to instead lean into the warmth of his comforter. It has a more natural, woodsy, type of scent, similar to the shampoo he'd washed your hair with.
Kakashi is completely immersed in his work. He still has a ways to go, but he's rather pleased with his progress. Even spacing and perfectly taught, Rin would surely be proud.
"You're different."
He's caught off guard when you speak. If he's being honest, he assumed you'd somehow managed to fall asleep.
"Retirement has mellowed me out."
You don't respond and he doesn't bother to continue the conversation. The silence is comfortable. You hadn't talked to him in over a year, and even before that you were never on friendly terms, but the warmth in the air would lead an outsider to believe you were close.
It isn't long before he's offering you a hand and guiding you into a sitting position. He tugs a black shirt over your head and you pull your arms through, wincing at the stretch of your stitches. Your eyes go to the smear of red on your stomach, and subsequently the bedding. You absentmindedly thumb over the stain on his dark blue duvet cover.
"Don't worry about it. Just lie back down so I can finish the front."
You're too tired to argue with him, so you comply. He's leaning over you now that the injured side isn't directly facing him. His arms are warm against your skin and you have a better view of his face. Of course, he's still wearing that stupid mask, but you can easily make out the contours of his nose and lips. He's entirely focused, eyebrows pulled together and eyes fixed in front of him.
You hiss when he gets to the indent of your hip, knicking the bone. Your hand reaches to stop his, carelessly ignoring the fact that there's a needle sticking out of your skin. He looks up at you- your eyes are squeezed shut and your breathing is heavy.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"'s fine. Just need a second."
He sets the needle driver down and splays his now free hand against your midriff. He's concerned for your comfort, a quality he wasn't aware he had, but that he apparently holds for you. He isn't even sure what he's doing with all of these subtle touches and acts of affection. Yesterday, you were just an annoying girl from his past, not too unlike Gai, and now he's finding himself losing his aloofness in favor of a more intimate moment.
Your hand eventually slides down his, gripping the juncture between his thumb and forefinger, a subtle sign that you're ready, before you fold your arms above your head.
He squeezes your side and resumes his previous position. He's more careful this time, not that he wasn't before. He's done within ten minutes, finishing it off with some dressings and tugging down your his shirt. He tugs the blanket out from under you and goes to grab the spare. It's a quick swap, the dirty one getting tossed in the general vicinity of his washer and the clean one is lazily thrown over you.
He starts to say something, but shuts his mouth when he notices you sleeping. You finally look peaceful. Your lips are chapped, your hair's a mess, and you're paler than usual, but peaceful nonetheless.
He sways his head side to side to side as he contemplates his next move. He could certainly just wait it out and situate himself on the couch with a book until you woke up. Or, he could do what Kurenai would call 'the chivalrous thing to do' and continue to care for you.
With a sigh, he summons Pakkun, who appears in a puff of smoke.
"You think you can keep an eye on her while I take care of some business?"
"You got it boss."
- - - - -
Your eyes felt heavy. It took more willpower than you'd care to admit to force them open, and even more to lift your hands to rub the sleep away. The soreness that spread across your shoulder and hip quickly reminded you where you were and what had happened.
You sat up and swung your feet over the side of Kakashiâs bed, planting them on the floor and setting your face in your hands. You hear footsteps, but don't bother to look up. Your head is swimming, your stomach is in knots, and your body is fighting to not collapse.
"Dinner is almost ready if you're up to it."
"I have to give my report before I can even think of anything else-"
"No need. It's already been handled."
You lift your head to give him a confused look, and that's when you see it. He's a bit uneasy, shuffling awkwardly until he's leaning against the door frame. He won't meet your gaze and you can see his Adam's apple bob up and down.
"Handled?"
"I informed Lord Third of your return. He said not to bother with your full report until tomorrow morning at the earliest."
You turned your gaze back to the floor and sighed in relief, but the feeling didn't last as you began a rather fast paced descent into madness. You mulled over all the events of the day and couldn't help but think of all the things you should've done differently. You should've taken first watch. You should've forced an opening to send someone, or even a summoning, to get back up. You should've said no when the others wanted to camp for the night and insisted on moving forward.
But you didn't, and now the people you spent nearly every day of the past three years with paid the price, slaughtered in the blink of an eye.
While you had never been one to grow unnecessarily fond of your teammates in the past, you couldn't deny the personal affection you'd acquired for your team over the years. It was stupid to get so attached to people who signed up for a job that damn near guarantees death, but you couldn't help it. Not when Sato was convinced that the person responsible for his meal rations had it out for him by giving him all the worst options. Not when Kaito was complaining about another failed date that he definitely ruined by being, well, himself. Not when Yue always made the time to nicely braid your hair after an impromptu bath in the lake.
Especially not when they all went out of their way to ensure you that you were valued and loved.
Kakashi can't see your face, but he doesn't need to. The slight tremble of your frame and the shakiness of your breath tell him all he needs to know. Despite how uncharacteristically nice and patient he's been today, he's still not used to actually caring for people outside of just making sure they don't die. So he does the only thing he can think of and sets his heavy, uncoordinated dog paw of a hand on your head and ruffles your hair, much like he'd do for his ninken.
"Relax."
You can't help but snicker at the action. It's awkward, so much so that you can feel it radiating through his skin. Unlike him, though, you are very well versed in this area. You rub your hands down your face, drying any tears that may have fallen, and pull him closer, wrapping your arms around his waist and laying your head on his firm stomach. He tenses but doesn't make any effort to move. Eventually, you feel his rigid hold on your head loosen, his fingers grazing across your scalp and then running through your hair.
"You suck at comforting people, you know?"
"It worked in the end, didn't it?"
You can't argue with him, not after he had so easily shut down your rapid spiral. Instead, you choose to focus on the moment and can't help but notice how intimate it feels. You're no stranger to physical affection, oftentimes using it to get out of difficult or uncomfortable questions, but never before has it felt like this. It could be that you're wearing his clothes and smell like his soap, or maybe it's the way one of his hands is cupped around the back of your head and pressing you further into his abdomen, but this feeling is definitely different from anything you've experienced up until this point.
Unbeknownst to you, Kakashi is having similar thoughts. His mind is going a thousand miles a minute, trying to push away his avoidant instincts. This past year has given him the opportunity to rewire his brain to be less... guarded, and he's hardly done anything with the newfound sense of freedom. Sure, he's managed to salvage his friendships, but even that much was due to other people's persistence, and not his own doing.
Maybe, just maybe, there's something specific about you. This entire experience has been ridiculously natural. You look like you belong in his apartment, in his clothes. Talking to you doesn't feel forced and there's not that weight he usually associates with social interaction. It's almost like you belong-
"Kakashi?"
Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts. He shifts his gaze down to see you peering up at him. He gives a slight hum to acknowledge you.
"Weren't you cooking?"
Cursing himself under his breath, he pulls back, his hands sliding out of your hair and along the underside of your jaw. He quickly makes his way back into the kitchen, shutting off the stove and removing the pan from the burner. You follow after him and sit at his table. It's funny, really, the way he haphazardly moves around the kitchen like he's never touched a pan before. You shouldn't laugh at him, not after he's been so good to you, and especially because you probably wouldn't fare much better.
He set a plate in front of you and your face instantly lights up. You clap your hands together and thank him profusely for the food. It's quiet for a while. You're enjoying your first real meal in weeks and he's giving you the space to do so.
It's hard to ignore the looks he keeps sending your way. You avoid looking directly at him to preserve the bits of his face that his cupped hand doesn't cover, but you can still feel the holes burning into your skull. You know what he wants, and to be honest, you're surprised. It seems Kurenai was right with that off-handed comment a few months ago- Kakashi had become rather nosey in recent times. Or, maybe, he's always been keen to information, but due to his particular place in the ranks, he's never had to ask for it before.
Growing more uncomfortable under his gaze and sensing he won't be the one to break the ice, you take the initiative.
"Why'd you let me in?"
"I'm trying to be more receptive to people's efforts at friendship."
You nod. You were once on the receiving end of his less-than-amicable approach, and you were glad he was actually allowing people in after everything that happened in his youth.
"Why come here?"
You sigh, nervously running your hands up and down your thighs. Honestly, you hadn't been very present-minded when you knocked on his door last night. The journey back to the village was hard to recall. Even the few hours you spent awake with Kakashi earlier were blurry.
Every other time you've needed someone in the past, you've turned to Kurenai. It was easy to unwind around her. You didn't have to think about anything, just letting her force feed you snacks from a variety of vendors and drag you around to different shops.
That's not always enough, though, and even if you pretend it is, there's always a part of you that seeks out something more. Apparently, last night you had sought out that something.
"Sometimes... it's nice to be around people who understand,"
Kakashi nods. He's been on the receiving end of said behavior, and he knows exactly how exhausting it can be.
"Don't get me wrong, Kurenai and Gai are great, but... they ask so many questions. There's a big difference between regular Shinobi work and ANBU, especially with what I do, and it's just, I don't know. I just don't usually want to talk about the details."
"I get it."
Even though Kakashi is obviously curious, he doesn't pry. He really does get it. Constantly being asked if you're okay, if you wanna talk about it, being offered a shoulder to cry on- it's kind, but it gets old after a while. Especially when you're just trying to spend the limited free time you have as a person and not just an off duty shinobi.
"Can I ask you personal questions? Or are you gonna get all angsty on me?"
"Angsty? I'm not angsty,"
One pointed look from you is all it takes for him to cave.
"Yeah, yeah, just ask your damn questions."
"How's retirement?"
It's kind of complicated. He should be training genin right now, but he sank that ship before it even left the dock. Poor kids didn't even make it a day before they were right back in the academy. Or wait, could you mean personally? That's probably at least a little complicated, too. There's been a lot of change for him this past year, but that doesn't really mean much compared to others when you're practically crawling at the ripe age of twenty-four.
"I'm only asking how you've been doing, Kakashi, there's no need to fret."
He must've taken too long to answer. That's why you're filling in the blanks for him. He should feel embarrassed, but he doesn't. Your teasing tone is enough to subdue any negative connotations your interruption may have offered. Honestly, he's more so just confused as to how you knew exactly what he was thinking.
"... I have a lot of free time."
Man, you really do have to walk him through everything, huh?
"Is that a good thing?"
He shrugs and mulls over it for a moment.
"I'm used to being busy. It's just difficult to get used to. I imagine you'll have an even harder time adjusting once you retire."
"Why's that?"
"You've spent nearly your entire life in ANBU. The cool down from that is gonna be hard after it's been ingrained so deeply."
He's right about that. You'd joined at just seven years old, hadn't even been a genin a year.
"Do personal questions go both ways?"
"I don't see why not."
"Why'd they recruit you so early?"
Damn, he really went right for it. You swallowed hard. Your fingers drummed lightly on the pair of pants he'd lent you.
"It was the only way Lord Third could keep me out of root."
Oh God. Root. Kakashi knew all about Danzo and his followers, courtesy of Tenzo, of course. That place was disgusting and cruel. It was a wonder why it hadn't been shut down already.
"I'm not very smart, so I didn't stick out in the academy, but once I got onto the field and found my calling... let's just say Danzo had taken an interest in me."
Oh, Kakashi knows exactly what you're talking about. It's true. You couldn't do a henge or substitution jutsu to save you're life, but you made up for it tenfold. It's only fitting that the person dubbed 'Calamity' in bingo books be a force of nature, right? You had an abundance of chakra and raw strength that only Tsunade could parallel. All the jutsu you knew were hard hitters- mudslides, tornadoes, tsunamis- anything massive that didn't require a lot of concentration, you could pull off.
"It's fine, though. My fighting style isn't exactly useful on standard missions. Too much collateral damage."
You manage a laugh. It's a little awkward, but genuine nonetheless. Most people get a bit stiff when talking about your unorthodox recruitment, but you don't hold the same sentiment. You'd lucked out with an amazing team right off the bat. They were all men in their late teens and early twenties, eager to take you in as their little sister and raise you into a fine shinobi.
"Whyâd you get recruited?"
"Me? Minato-sensei had some personal tasks for me."
"Oh yeah? Is that your mysterious way of saying you were solely recruited for baby duty?"
Now that had taken him aback.
"How did you-"
You, apparently, knew the couple very well. How that fact got past Kakashi all this time is beyond him. You told him about the first time you met Kushina- how she cried because the chest plate on your uniform was too big for little seven-year-old you. You told him about how Minato tried desperately to free you from ANBU during his reign, but couldn't find any loopholes that'd keep you away from Danzo. How they'd sometimes run into you on the street and offer to take you to dinner.
Kakashi shared his own stories of his sensei and his wife, which, in extension, got him to talk about Rin and Obito. Before either of you knew it, it'd been several hours. The last rays of sunshine had disappeared in the midst of your discussion some time ago. The pain of your injuries had dulled and were pushed to the back of your mind, buried in the new found connection.
He hadn't felt that stress-free in decades. There was no pressure when he was talking to you, even when it came to the people he lost. You were just... talking. No prying, no judging, no eggshells- just talking.
It was easy to admit that Kakashi was different from the others. The conversation had revived memories you hadn't even realized existed. This is what was lacking in all of your other encounters- depth. Screw mission details and gossip. These were the kinds of things you wanted to spend your time mulling over.
"Kakashi?"
"Hm?
You smiled at him and he swears his heart might be failing him. It's so soft and genuine, the kind of smile that soul mates share with one another.
"Thank you... for everything."
He doesn't respond. Actually, no more words are spoken between you two as you ready yourself to leave his apartment. There's a peaceful silence as you gather your belongings and head to the door.
When you're finally standing on his welcome mat, you decide that it's now or never with him. Maybe you're being a bit bold, but the Copy Nin is exclusively difficult to connect with and you aren't about to take any chances.
"When Gai inevitably invited you out to dinner-"
"I'll go."
That was surprisingly easy.
Another one of those beautiful smiles lights up your face at his response. He knows that whatever is going to come of this is sure to be troublesome, but he can't find it in himself to care.
after all the fights, the losses, the endless cursed energyâhe just wanted quiet. a big house on the outskirts of tokyo, no missions, no students to worry about. he was in his forties now, white hair starting to show darker grey strands. wrinkles crinkled around his blue eyes when he smiled, which wasnât as often these days.
he spent mornings drinking coffee, afternoons reading books he never had time for before. peaceful. boring, maybe, but safe.
then you showed up. it was an accident, really. he was at a small cafe in the city, grabbing takeout, when you bumped into him. your coffee spilled all over his shirt. you apologized a hundred times, young thing in your early twenties. he laughed it off, said it was no big deal, but those eyes of yours stuck with him. bright, full of life he hadnât felt in years. he offered to buy you another drink, and somehow, that turned into dinner. then more dinners. then nights at his place.
now, you keep him up all night. not in a bad way. god, no. he loves it. loves the way you straddle him in his bed, sheets tangled around your legs, your young body moving like itâs made for this. heâs propped up on pillows, hands on your hips, watching you ride him slow at first. youâre so wet, he can hear it, the slick sounds as you take him deep.
âfuck, baby,â he groans, voice rough. his cock throbs inside you, thick and veined, filling you up just right. âjust like that.â his thumbs dig into the soft skin just above your ass, guiding you faster.
you lean forward, hands on his chest. thereâs grey hair there too, scattered across his pecs. wrinkles crease deeper around his eyes as he groans, head tipping back for a second before snapping forward againâhe canât stop watching.
you roll your hips harder, grinding your clit against him on every downstroke. your thighs burn, but you donât slow down. âsatoru... feels so good.â he sits up suddenly, chest pressing to yours, one arm locking around your lower back. the shift drives him deeper, punching a sharp cry out of you.
âyeah? you want it harder, baby?â he growls against your ear, then bites the lobeâhard. his other hand slides up to fist your hair, yanking your head back so your throatâs exposed. he drags his mouth down it, teeth scraping, sucking bruises thatâll show tomorrow.
he knows itâs not forever. youâre young, full of energy, could have any guy your age. but he spoils you rotten anyway. buys you pretty thingsâlingerie that hugs your curves, dresses that show off your legs, anything you want really.
he takes you shopping, arm around your waist, pulling you close when younger boys stare. they do, all the time. eyes lingering on your ass, your smile. it pisses him off. he wants to blast them into nothing for even looking. but he just tightens his grip, kisses your temple, whispers, âyouâre so pretty.â you lean into him, and it eases the jealousy a bit.
at home heâd eat you out like a man starved, making you forget about all the other boys youâve seen that day, staring at you. satoruâs hands slide up your thighs, pushing them wider apart as he settles between, grey in his hair catching the low light when he glances up at you.
he never thought heâd love this so much. back in his twenties, eating a girl out was just something you did to get her ready, polite foreplay before the main event. but now, in his forties, with youâheâs obsessed. canât get enough of the way you taste, the way you shake when his tongue finds the right spot.
âlook at you.â he drags his mouth up slow, lips brushing slick skin, teasing. âsoaked already. this all for me?â
you nod, breath hitching. he smirks, then licks a long, flat stripe up your center, groaning low in his chest like heâs the one getting pleasured. your hips jerk. he pins them down with one forearm across your stomach, the other hand spreading you open.
âfuck, youâre pretty,â he mutters, almost to himself. then he dives in. his mouth closes over your clit, sucking gently at first, tongue flicking fast and precise. you cry out, back arching off the bed. he doesnât let upâjust keeps that steady pressure, that perfect rhythm heâs learned from watching you fall apart on his face night after night.
he pulls back just enough to speak. âlove this pussy. love how you get so fucking wet for me.â then heâs back, tongue pushing inside you, curling, tasting deep before sliding up to circle your clit again. two fingers slip in easy and he curls them just right, pressing that spot that makes your legs tremble over his shoulders.
your hands fly to his hair, gripping tight, pulling him closer. he growls into you. âsatoruâpleaseââ
he knows what you need. speeds up, fingers pumping steady. sucks harder, tongue lashing side to side until your thighs clamp around his head. he doesnât care if he canât breatheâjust keeps going, lost in it, in you. loves the way your hips grind against his face, desperate, chasing it.
heâs always been careful when he was younger. too aware of cameras, reputations, the weight of being the strongest. sex was good, sure, but it was controlled. in bedrooms, hotel rooms, never anywhere he could get caught. he told himself it was maturity, responsibility. really it was just fear of losing control.
with you, that fear is gone. burned out of him the first time you slid your hand under the table at dinner and squeezed him through his pants while smiling sweetly at the waiter.
later you pull him sideways to a photo booth behind the train station and he knows what youâre doing the second the curtain closes. youâre in his lap before the first flash even goes off, kissing him slow and deep, tongue sliding against his like youâve got all night. your hands are in his hair, pulling just hard enough to make him groan into your mouth.
he tries to keep it tame for the first two photosâsmiles, bunny ears, whateverâbut by the third youâre grinding down on him, feeling him get hard under you, and he snaps. his hands shove your skirt up to your waist, fingers hooking in your panties and yanking them to the side. he frees himself, cock heavy and aching, and pulls you down onto him in one rough motion.
you both choke on the sound you make. itâs tight, cramped, but he doesnât stop. he grips your hips and fucks up into you hard, fast, desperate. your hands slap against the wall for balance, forehead pressed to his, mouths barely apart so every moan goes straight into each other. the camera keeps flashingâfour, five, sixâcatching your faces twisted in pleasure, his jaw clenched, your eyes rolled back.
the booth spits out the strip of photos a minute later. youâre both flushed, hair messed up, pure lust on both your faces.
he keeps that strip in his wallet. pulls it out sometimes when heâs alone, thumb tracing the edge, remembering how insane you make him. how he never wouldâve done that at twenty-five, too paranoid, too careful. now heâll fuck you anywhereâphoto booths, the back of his car in a parking garage, once even in the restroom of a fancy restaurant because you whispered you werenât wearing anything under your dress and he almost lost his mind.
heâs too old to care about getting caught. all he cares about is you, how you sound when you come, how you look at him.
nanami brings it up every time they meet for drinks. same quiet bar, same corner booth, same tired lecture. âsheâs twenty-three, gojo. twenty-three.â nanamiâs voice is flat, measured, the way it always is when heâs trying not to judge too hard. âyouâre old enough to be her father. find someone your age.â
satoru just smirks into his whiskey. âcanât.â simple as that. he doesnât explain the way his chest tightens when you laugh at his stupid jokes, or how he wakes up hard just from you shifting in your sleep against him.
he doesnât say that the thought of you with some college boyâhands on your waist, mouth on your neck, some punk whoâd make you split the dinner bill 50/50, expect you to drive yourself home, and wouldnât spend half the day with his face buried between your thighsâmakes him want to hollow purple the entire campus. those boys wouldnât know how to treat you right, wouldnât worship you like he does.
wouldnât spoil you rottenâbuy you whatever you want, drive you everywhere, let you be his passenger princess with your feet up on the dash while he handles everything. theyâd fumble, selfish and rushed, leaving you wanting. heâd rather burn the world than let you settle for that.
satoru just smirks deeper, swirling the glass. he doesnât tell nanami about the quiet things. how he pays your rent three months ahead without you knowing, just in case your part-time job ever falls through. how he swapped out your old laptop for a new one while you were in the shower, left it on the desk like it had always been there.
how he noticed the tiny crease between your brows last week when you checked your bank app, and by morning the student loan payment you were stressing over was gone, marked paid in full from some anonymous scholarship fund he set up.
he sees everything. the way you bite your lip when youâre anxious about exams, the way you pretend youâre not cold so you donât have to ask for his jacket. he fixes it all before you even say a word. books the spa day when you mention your back hurts in passing. fills the fridge with the weird yogurt you like thatâs always sold out. drives an hour out of his way to get the dumplings from that one place because you felt sad the other day.
satoru knows. he knows because he watches you closer than anyone ever has. if that little worry line ever shows up on your forehead again, heâd burn the world down to smooth it away. buy whatever you need, cancel whateverâs stressing you, hold you until the crease disappears and youâre soft and warm and laughing against his chest.
and yeah, sometimes late at night he looks in the mirror and wonders what the hell youâre doing with him. youâre so pretty it hurtsâsmooth skin, bright eyes, body that makes people stare on the street. and heâs got grey in his hair, lines around his eyes, and that ugly scar slicing across his torso from sukuna, pale and raised and impossible to ignore when heâs shirtless.
but then you crawl into bed and push him onto his back, kissing him slow until heâs breathing hard. you trail your mouth down his neck, over his collarbone, lower. when you reach the scar you trace it with your tongue, pressing kisses along every rough inch of the mark that used to remind him of almost dying. then you keep going, further down, lips brushing his abs, his hips, until you wrap your hand around him and take him in your mouth.
he doesnât say any of that out loud, of course. just downs the rest of his drink and shrugs. âsheâs fine,â he says. âbetter than fine.â
because you are. he makes sure of it every single day, quietly, obsessively, without you ever having to ask. and if that makes him the villain in nanamiâs story, heâll wear it. heâs not giving you up. not when he can take care of you like thisâlike no one else ever could or ever will.
one night, after you come hard on his cock, clenching around him until he follows, spilling deep inside you with a grunt, he pulls you into his chest. your head tucked under his chin, one of your legs thrown over his, his cum leaking out between your thighs. his heart is still pounding hard against your ear, sweat cooling on both of you. his fingers trace slow patterns on your back, up and down your spine.
he stares at the ceiling, feeling the weight of you on him, warm and real and here. heâs always told himself this canât lastâtoo big an age gap, youâll want someone younger eventually, someone who doesnât have grey creeping in, who doesnât wake up with new aches. heâs prepared for it, or he thought he was.
but right now, with you breathing slow against his skin, your fingers curled over his chest like you never want to let go, something shifts. he thinks about waking up to you tomorrow, and the day after, and years of it.
he thinks about how much he fucking loves youâhow itâs been sitting in his chest for months, never said out loud because it felt too big, too risky. he loves the way you laugh at his dumb jokes, the way you steal his shirts, the way you fit against him.
maybe it wonât end. maybe this is it. maybe he gets to keep you.
he presses his lips to your hair, holds you a little tighter, and lets himself believe it, just for tonight.
