You and Satoru broke up for a reason, you keep reminding yourself.
But even months later and, ehm… other people later, you find yourself staring at his contact picture, typing and deleting the same message over and over again.
How are you even supposed to break no contact? Is there a good way of reaching out to your ex without coming across as desperate or delusional?
"I miss you" your fingers type.
Delete.
No way you're starting with that – even if it is the truth.
"Hope you're well" …you groan before you even finish typing that one, the little sound of each letter disappearing managing to piss you off even more.
You had heard it enough times already. A monotone soundtrack to every little memory of Satoru, both good and bad, that jumped to your mind without warning the longer you stared at his handsome picture.
It felt ridiculous to miss him that much. You had tried so hard to move on – maybe just to prove a point too. Because otherwise you’d have to admit what he knew all along.
You shouldn’t embarrass yourself like that, you decide with a long sigh, ready to lock the device.
But suddenly – three little dots appear on the screen.
satoru: just send it already i can't take it anymore
Your mouth falls open in a silent gasp, and it takes everything in you to not throw the phone across the room and hide from sheer embarrassment.
Then it pings again.
satoru: hellooo?
Fuck.
Was it too late to change your number and move to a different country?
You sigh, finally typing a message you actually send.
y/n: how long have you been watching the screen
Three dots.
satoru: like 10 minutes
You let out a silent scream, heart hammering in your chest.
This is the worst possible scenario – time to deflect.
y/n: why the hell did you have my chat open anyway
Three dots again…
satoru: princess I've been waiting for this moment for months
Your cheeks heat up with something other than embarrassment this time.
y/n: you're an idiot
You know he’d practically be able to hear your pout through that text. But then–
satoru: that guy you were dating finally fuck up?
You let out a small chuckle at his honesty. And yeah, fuck up was putting it lightly, but you didn't exactly want to get into how every man since Satoru had been a complete disappointment.
You sigh, biting the inside of your cheek to try and force back the smile that tried to form on your lips.
y/n: guess you could say that
Satoru was typing again, three dots appearing and disappearing. Maybe he was the one deleting the messages on the other side now.
You could almost picture him – that wide cheese eating grin, celebrating his prophecy coming true. You hated how right he was about the fact you wouldn't find anyone better than him.
The overly confident bastard he was.
But the message you received wasn't smug at all. If anything, it made your heart ache with that familiar comfort no one but him seemed able to give you.
satoru: did he hurt you?
You felt a tightness in your throat as you typed out a yes. It's not like you were ever in love with the guy – you hadn't really been in love with anyone since, well… since the man you were texting right now.
White haired, blue eyed, handsome Satoru Gojo, shining so bright he overshadowed everyone in his wake, including you.
But how could anyone else even compare?
satoru: are you ok?
You bite your lower lip, reading and rereading his text. Yes that guy proved to be an asshole, but what was really making your chest hurt wasn't that short lived situationship – it was how much you missed Satoru.
Missed his stupid jokes. Missed the way he'd easily pick you up and place kisses all over your face. Missed cuddling on cold nights, laughing at the dumb movie he chose, baking cookies for lunch when his adorable pout convinced you it was healthy.
What was the use of lying, anyway?
y/n: i just really miss you
There. You finally admitted the truth you had been trying to conceal for months now.
And his response came so fast you wondered how his thumbs could type so quickly.
satoru: ill be there in 10
You laugh – Satoru easily lives a half an hour away, but you fully believe him.
How did you ever think you’d get over Satoru Gojo?
(important) DO NOT MESSAGE YOUR EX – unless he is satoru gojo, of course
synopsis: Jason didn’t mean to keep your existence secret from his family—really! At first, it was for his and your own protection more than anything, his double life wasn’t just for any average person after all. But, even after the whole marriage and settling down thing, he may have just—honest to god—forgot to mention it?
includes: silly shenanigans, fluff, civilian wife!reader, + pregnant reader but it’s really only mentioned like twice, she/her pronouns used, oblivious & extremely confused batfam, jason & reader share a singular + 1/2 of a brain cell, domestic life, annoying siblings, jason being terrible at communicating, he’s also got a bit of a potty mouth, warning for my absolute horrible punctuation & run-on sentences + not beta-read
cast: jason todd, dick grayson, tim drake, damian wayne, cassandra cain, bruce wayne, alfred pennyworth, you!
a/n: I love Jason with a secret family trope >w< !!! thus I took it upon myself to write my own. sorry if anyone seems out of character or odd!! I tried to keep this as fun and lighthearted as possible <3 this is my first ever x reader fic! be kind to me world :3…
wc: 6.4k
09.28.25
In the beginning, Jason was apprehensive about you. You who approached him first, completely unprompted, at your favorite coffee shop. All red and fidgety with nerves when you asked him for his number.
At first he was sure it was a trap, someone sent sweet, unassuming you to catch him off guard. Try and trip him up then get him when he’s unprepared and vulnerable. After all, regular people didn’t just walk up to Jason on purpose to ask him anything, let alone on a date. Jason knew he didn’t really give off dinner and a movie vibes.
Still, something about you drew him in. Maybe it was the overwhelming normalcy of you. Your outfit was overly-casual, like one of those too-late-in-the-week-to-care outfits when it was only Tuesday. You had a kind of anxious, hurried jitteriness to you that screamed that late-for-everything-college-student vibe.
With your bag slung over your shoulder, bursting with notebooks, textbooks, and stray paper, and your iced-coffee order’s condensation beginning to soak your hands, you weren’t extraordinarily beautiful, or blindly radiant, or mysterious like you were hiding a million secrets from the world. You were just any other twenty-something year old running late for her morning classes.
You were also beginning to tense from Jason’s continued silence, embarrassment overwhelming your body language.
Just as you begin to open your mouth, laugh it off and go about your day pretending like you won’t be thinking about the most beautiful boy you’ve ever met’s hard rejection of you at your favorite coffee place (which you’d never be able to return to again) for the next thirty years of your life—he agreed.
With eyes narrowed in suspicion Jason gave you his number, telling himself it was only to figure out who’s ploy this was and what they wanted with him.
Well, Jason’s investigation lasted eight dates before becoming an official label. And somewhere between the meeting your family and the engagement to marriage pipeline, Jason had to admit you might have really just wanted his number.
Jason was unlike anyone you’d ever met, just like you’d known the second you laid eyes on him. He was rugged and rough around the edges in a charming way. Confident and unwavering at one minute, and then second guessing and completely stumbling over himself the next. When it came to you, he was so unsure about everything. Afraid his touch might break you into a million pieces, and his scars—literal and figurative—would scare you away. All he knew was he could not mess this up.
Jason was pretty closed off when you first started going out. He hid secrets you couldn’t begin to decipher and told lies like a priest spreads the gospel. It took a while to crack him open, but when you did the damage was irreparable.
You confronted him one night about his coming and goings at unholy hours of night and morning. It was not too long after the two of you moved in together. It was getting near impossible for him to hide the bruises from you now, and the anxiety of not knowing where your boyfriend was disappearing to kept you up all night.
You wanted to give Jason his privacy, just let the sickening feeling coiling in your stomach slowly eat away at you. Keep it locked up snug and tight. But, one too many sleepless nights and you broke like an old dam under distress.
Tears and flurried words and too many feelings for you to keep up with all came rushing out when he stumbled back into your shared apartment one night smelling of blood, sweat, and something feminine. You asked if he was in some kind of trouble, or if there was someone else—if he didn’t want to be around you anymore that was totally fine, but at least let you know before you get into this too deep—
Jason cut off your rambling with a bone-crushing hug, tripping over his own words in a hurry to reassure you. The thought of losing you enough of an adrenaline rush to have him forgetting about any injuries he may have procured and his heart feeling like it just might implode in his chest.
And then Jason broke too. He told you the truth—about everything. His nighttime activities moonlighting as Gotham’s vigilante slash crime lord, his history, his family. He spoke of the monsters he fought day in day out, the sacrifices he often had to make to keep a temporary peace in his city—often times those sacrifices having to be pieces of himself.
He told you about you, how you were his sanctuary. A reminder of what he fought for. Your innocence and light. You were no saint by any means, but you’d never be able to accumulate half the sin just he had on his hands in four lifetimes. You were there to remind him that there was still good worth fighting for in the world. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.
He then apologized profusely for lying to you, and you could never stay mad at him for long anyway. However, to make up for it (on his insistence) you did make him tell you the civilian identities of all your favorite heroes. A fair trade, you’d say.
Which now brings Jason here. Married, paying off a monthly mortgage, attending Thanksgiving and Christmas parties at your family’s house, waving to neighbors at ungodly hours of the morning as he walked your dog, and soon expecting a little one of his own.
Yeah, it definitely wasn’t what four-years-ago-Jason would’ve imagined himself as either, or even further back than that Jason. He wouldn’t trade a second of it for the world.
He’d like to say a part of him was reluctant to tell his family of your guys’ relationship because they’d disapprove, and that was why they didn’t know. Saying something like you two were rushing into things and that you had no business being in their line of work due to the dangers. But, in all reality, even after Jason had started to rekindle his relationship with his family and see them more often, he’d just…forgotten.
To tell anybody, really. His family, his friends, he just thought at some point he had told people and they just never mentioned it—there was no way the people he surrounded himself with wouldn’t be able to find out. So, they had to have just no interest in you two, right?
Wrong. Apparently. Jason found out this fact firsthand.
Jason didn’t wear his wedding ring while at work, for obvious reasons. Some of the most notable being, it wasn’t very practical nor was it anyone’s business what the Red Hood’s love life was like. Plus, he didn’t want it to get dirty or risk losing it. He often opted out of wearing it all together deciding the best course of action is to leave it at home, however that night had been different.
Patrol had ended early one night, something Jason was rather irked by considering he’d rushed here from out of town visiting your family due to a false alarm ‘emergency’. He’d had to leave you behind and wouldn’t be able to see you for another week, as the excuse he’d given your family was supposed to be long-term and he refused to let you cut your visit short.
He, along with the other assorted members of Gotham’s vigilantes, ended up back in the Batcave. Jason sat by himself, off to the side where he was not sulking, and—more importantly—where you were not answering his messages.
Dick waltzes up to Jason, who doesn’t even acknowledge his presence, and flops down on the couch next to him,throwing his legs over Jason’s body and making a show of getting comfortable.
Jason glares at him over the screen of his phone and roughly shoves Dick’s feet off of him, promptly turning his attention back to his phone.
Dick cocks a brow. Jason had been particularly quiet and prickly tonight—and he means even more than usual.
It wasn’t uncommon for Jason to be in a bad mood, especially around them, but in recent years he’d been better. He’d started to actually spend time with them—even outside patrol, reaching out first occasionally, and they could go several hours without him blowing up and storming off! All in all, Dick wouldn’t call Jason’s behavior unusual, just odd for it to be tonight of all nights.
“What’s so interesting?” Dick asks, nosiness curiosity getting the better of him. He switches his position, instead draping himself over Jason, who was still glued to his phone, and trying to peek at Jason’s screen.
“None of your business, dickhead!” Jason snaps, trying to push Dick away from him.
“What? What is it? Come on! I want to see!” Dick says insistently, chuckling as Jason gets more and more riled up. They wrestle for a moment, Jason outright childishly holding his phone up in the air, away from Dick, as Dick tries to grasp for it but is stopped by Jason’s hands and feet pushing him away.
“Is it something naughty?” Dick teases, mock gasping. “Is that why you won’t show me, Jason? Are you being a bad boy?”
“Shut up! You weirdo!”
Dick howls with laughter as Jason all but tackles him to the floor once Dick gets ahold of his phone. They continue their roughhousing, Dick trying to unlock Jason’s phone screen as Jason fights to get it back. However, Dick has rolled onto his stomach now, and hunches over the phone moving this way and that to prevent Jason from seizing it back. Their commotion draws over the other inhabitants of the cave.
Jason’s phone is snatched from Dick’s hands, Jason lunges after it but is held back by Dick.
“Don’t let him get it, Dami!” Dick says, a wild grin on his face and breathing harshly from laughing so hard.
Damian stands in front of them, Jason’s phone in his hand as he gives the phone a suspicious look. The lock screen is a picture of a woman, her back to the camera as she looks out at the setting sun across the ocean with her hand atop a dog’s head sitting obediently at her feet. Damian raises a brow slightly at this, but opts not to mention it. It wasn’t any of his business what Jason found aesthetically pleasing, after all.
He instead turns back to the real objective at hand: making Jason’s life miserable.
“What is that you’re hiding, Todd?” Damian demands, not asks. “Give it up now and save yourself the trouble. I will find out, one way or another.”
“I’m not hiding anything!” Jason says, irritated. He technically wasn’t lying. He wasn’t intentionally hiding anything from them. He was simply waiting for a very important message from you that he didn’t want to miss because of his annoying, asshole siblings.
Damian clicks his tongue, not believing Jason’s words. He crosses his arms and holds the phone out to his left, handing it over to Tim who starts examining it top to bottom.
Jason rolls his eyes, “You guys are making such an unbelievable deal out of this. It’s just a phone!”
“Nuh uh!” Dick ever-so-helpfully cuts in, his grin still having not left his face as he holds onto Jason even though Jason had stopped struggling. “It’s a phone you don’t want us to see! Which makes it much, much more than just a phone.”
Jason rolls his eyes harder, if that’s even possible, and attacks Dick again. This time just for Dick being obnoxious.
Tim continues to look over the phone with a critical eye. The case is a black otterbox, the lock screen the picture of a woman and a dog, and a basic numbered password locks the phone. Overall, nothing stands out to him. No secret mechanics or buttons. Well, nothing but the fact that this was definitely not the phone Jason used around them.
That was nothing too shocking though, they all had secret phones. Except the other fact that this one seemed to be the personal one, not the work one.
Okay—maybe Jason was hiding one little thing from them, but hiding his personal number from them was nothing egregious.
“A secret phone?” Cass says as she looks over Tim’s shoulder, a smirk on her face and a conspiring glint in her eyes.
“Seems like it.” Tim replies, ignoring Jason and Dick’s squabbling, a twin smirk on his mouth.
“Open it, Drake!” Damian says impatiently, smacking Tim’s arm repeatedly.
“Alright, alright! Stop it!” Tim shakes Damian’s hand off and tries to unlock the phone. He first tries numerous combinations of numbers he knows Jason would use to try and trip them up, but they don’t work. Tim frowns.
Of course they didn’t work, the password was your birthday. But Jason would never use something so simple as a birthday as a password, right? Not that they knew your birthday, anyway.
Jason made it easy for you. He never used his personal phone for anything other than you and the civilian side of his life, anyway.
Usually, he never carries his personal phone with him while he’s at work, much like his wedding ring, and he would never give you his work phone contact to potentially have your number compromised if his phone is ever stolen while he’s out at night. All he has installed on your phone while he’s out is a panic button, it’s made to alert him immediately on any of his devices of your location once it’s activated.
Tonight, though, in his rush he’d kept his personal phone on him—and thank god for it otherwise he’d be bored out of his mind, stuck in the batcave with only his family to keep him company. Well, up till you stopped replying of course.
Tim tries four more passwords before the phone shuts him out for a two minute cool-down. Tim grumbles deep in his throat, starting to get irritated himself.
“Jason, what is it?” Tim grumbles, tapping his foot insistently waiting for the two minutes to finish up. “What’s the password?” Jason doesn’t answer, too caught up with getting out of Dick’s headlock.
“Try one-two-three-four.” Cass suggests.
“Why would it be one-two-three-four?” Tim asks, exasperated. Cass shrugs. Tim sighs.
Jason’s phone suddenly dings with a notification, the sound drowned out by the surrounding chaos. Still, it cuts through the cacophony of noise to Jason like a siren.
“Message from ‘ba—’” Tim starts to read. Jason leaps off of Dick, his brother yelping as he’s trampled under Jason’s feet.
His heart soared when he saw your name on his screen. His shoulders loosens and his face softens, his heart beats a million miles an hour as he taps to open the message. However, his demeanor quickly sours once again once he sees he’s locked out for another forty-two seconds.
Cass’ brows rise imperceptibly as she watches Jason’s body language rapidly change, seemingly going unnoticed by their brothers. She grins and studies Jason closely, thoroughly intrigued now.
She cocks her head, that sly grin still splayed across her lips, and approaches Jason. She peeks over at his phone screen that he alternates from glaring at to Tim and back.
“Who is it?” She asks in a whisper, like they were trading secrets under a comforter way past their bedtime. She hangs over Jason’s arm, trying to get a look at the message as the timer ticks closer to zero, before she’s pushed out of the way by Damian.
“What? What is it?” Damian demands. “I want to see.” He tugs down at Jason’s arm, trying to move it out of the way and snatch the phone back.
Cass pushes Damian back and retakes her spot, Damian doesn’t take kindly to that and soon they’re having an all-out tug of war with Jason’s forearm.
Jason tries to push them both off, but he’s quickly bombarded by his plethora of siblings. Dick finally gets up off the floor with a groan and drapes himself over Jason’s back, and Tim takes a spot hanging over Jason’s other open arm. His siblings’ voices all overlap one another as they continuously get louder trying to speak over the others, making it nearly impossible to pinpoint what one is saying. However, if Jason had to guess, the gist of it all was them wanting to know what was on his phone.
“Would you idiots calm down?!” Jason shouts over them, though it does little to quell their mayhem. However, once he ever-so-casually drops that it’s just you messaging him, that gets them to freeze and the cave suddenly goes dead silent.
Jason rolls his eyes, finally squeezing out of his siblings’ grasps and walking back over to the couch he was previously sitting on. All the while, Dick, Cass, Tim, and Damian stare after him in utter confusion, Jason doesn’t even notice their puzzlement.
The four share looks with each other, looking to one another for answers but coming up short each time.
“Uh…” Tim finally speaks up, “Who?”
Jason repeats your name absentmindedly, like it’s one he says on a regular basis. Like it was one they were supposed to know.
This also catches the attention of Bruce, who’d previously been sitting at the batcomputer ignoring his children’s rambunctiousness. The four kids glance back at him for answers, but he has no answer for him.
“Right.” Dick says, walking over to Jason who was almost giddily tapping away at his phone, completely unaware of their odd behavior. “And…who is that again?”
Dick chuckles awkwardly, trying to gently coax an answer out of Jason. He leans over the back of the couch and peers at Jason’s phone with his siblings joining him, no resistance from the younger man this time.
However, that seemed to be the wrong thing to ask as Jason whirls around to glower at Dick, pure disbelief and outrage on his face like Dick had just committed the most heinous of crimes.
“Are you serious?” Jason asks, tone hard and deadly. “My wife, jackass?”
Jason scoffs and turns away from Dick, and Dick notices for the first time that night Jason’s fiddling with the necklace strung around his throat. The necklace with a wedding ring hung from it, the inside of the ring engraved with ‘Mr & Mrs’ followed by initials of two names, one he knew as Jason’s and the other hyphenated, and a date. A wedding date if Dick was so bold to assume.
The cave was now so quiet Dick could swear even the resident bats had stopped to settle into absolute shock. He could practically hear Tim’s jaw drop to the floor.
Also for the first time that night, Dick got a good view of Jason’s phone screen. Jason was scrolling through a chat on his messages app;
‘baby 💍💖’:
sorry!! I got caught up in a poker tournament (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞
but don’t worry you worry your pretty little head sugar, I won hehe (¬‿¬ )
no matter what that little tyrant cousin of mine tries to say
[6 attachments]
what do you think of these ones??
Dick watches in stunned silence as Jason replies to each message, taking time to reply to the person saved as ‘baby’ with a heart and ring in his phone that texts with emoticons, with care and attention.
Dick thinks he nearly falls to his knees with a heart attack when he sees the images sent to Jason were baby cribs—and he’s pretty sure Bruce actually does when he hears a strangled gasp to his left. He hadn’t even noticed when the man had come up and joined him and the others, but there he stands mouth agape and his skin a worrying pallor.
“Todd…” Damian is the first to break the silence. His voice barely above a whisper at first, though he might as well have just set off a hydrogen bomb.
“You have a wife?!” The boy screeches, voice raising an octave in disbelief.
“Since when?” Cass asks next, in complete disarray.
“Since how?” Tim chimes in, eyes nearly bulging out of his head trying to piece some puzzle together.
“Jason…” Bruce says breathlessly, the quietest among them sans Dick’s abstaining, the gears in his head working overtime trying to figure things out. His brow furrowed and his eyes rapidly blinking, he looks almost…hurt.
Jason looks at them all quizzically, almost appearing as confused as them though Dick is positive that is impossible.
“What? What are you morons talking about?” Jason asks, his demeanor truly lost.
“What are you talking about?” Dick can’t help but throw his question back at him. He feels his legs starting to get shaky and he has to sit down.
“I’ve been married.” Jason says as if he’s stating the sky is blue.
“Jason…I—why didn’t you—when did—“ Possibly for the first time ever Dick witnesses Bruce at a loss for words. No contingency plan existed for missing your son’s wedding, apparently.
Jason stares at them all strangely, seeming particularly unsettled by Bruce’s reaction. “Uh…yeah. I’ve been married for like two years now.” He says casually.
“Two—two years?!” Tim and Dick shout simultaneously, Dick shooting to his feet. Bruce releases another one of those dying animal sounds and sits down where Dick was before he could topple to the floor, rubbing his hand over his face.
“Yeah…” Jason is startled now, clarity slowly starting to creep into his features now. “Didn’t I…tell you guys?” He asks apprehensively.
“No!” They all shout back.
“Well, how did you not know?!” Jason replies defensively. “Aren’t you people supposed to be the ‘world’s greatest detectives’?”
“Jason, no offense, buddy, but you don’t exactly give off the whole loving husband vibe.” Tim says, looking Jason over as if seeing a whole new person.
Jason’s face screws up in definite offense. “Oh fu—”
“You are having a baby!” Cass interrupts, tone caught somewhere between bewilderment and excitement. She’d snagged Jason’s phone while he’d been distracted and now she and Damian scroll through the two of your messages.
Bruce really does collapse that time.
It’s the next day when they all gather together again. The night before, after Dick and Jason had deposited Bruce in his bedroom upstairs, they’d all agreed to get some sleep and resume their talk in the morning. Hopefully, some rest and preparation would help soothe the situation and their conversation can happen in a more civilized manner.
That was the plan, however, when Jason walked into the dining room the next morning for breakfast, he found his family already there looking as if they hadn’t slept a wink.
Jason sits down in his usual seat, ignoring the disappointed look Alfred gives him as he places a plate in front of him. They all sit in silence as Jason serves himself breakfast.
“Look…it was uh—an honest mistake.” Jason says sheepishly, breaking the silence. The sound of forks scraping porcelain halts at Jason’s words as his family all look up and stare at him incredulously.
“An honest mistake?” Dick asks, as if his lack of sleep was causing auditory hallucinations.
“To neglect to inform us that you’ve been in a relationship. The past four years.” Damian tags on—rather judgmentally might Jason add.
“And married. The last two.” Tim says. What was this, some kind of circus act?
“Also, you are expecting a baby.” Cass helpfully adds.
Jason shrugs, finding his food rather captivating. “Could happen to anybody.” That was that catalyst. All of a sudden everyone is shouting, trying to speak over each other.
“Right. That too. Is there anything else you’ve forgotten to tell us about, Jason?” Dick asks, overly sarcastic. “You know, besides your secret family.”
“Any more babies?” Cass—voice bright.
“Oh god, please, no.” Bruce moans.
“Why have you hidden this woman from us, Todd? Are you ashamed?” Damian narrows his eyes suspiciously.
“What—no—!”
“Is she a hero?” Tim.
“Who does she work with?” Bruce.
“Is she a criminal? That would explain your reluctance.” Damian, again.
“No, she’s not—”
“Who is she? What does she look like?“
“Are you going to invite her over?”
“Oh! Tell her to come to dinner tonight!”
Jason could hardly keep up anymore. Between his brothers’ rapid questions, Bruce’s hard scrutiny—as if he could figure out every answer to his questions if he stared at Jason long enough, and Cass making dinner plans with Alfred, Jason couldn’t even hear his own thoughts.
“Shut up! How am I supposed to answer anything if you don’t give me time to breathe?” Jason snaps, huffing and throwing his fork down. “Ruined my damn breakfast.” He mutters, crossing his arms across his chest.
“Oh, quit pouting, Todd—” Damian rolls his eyes.
“I am not pouting, you little—”
“That’s enough!” Bruce cuts in, his tone firm and commanding, quelling the cacophony of voices.
“Jason…” He says, trailing off like he wasn’t sure where he was originally going with his sentence. “Are you sure about this? Marriage is uh…a big decision—”
Jason snorts, cutting Bruce off before he could hurt something with how uncomfortable he was. “Little late for that, big guy.”
“When are you bringing her over?” Cass inquires again. She seemed to be the only one finding the positive in this situation. “Tonight? What should we make for dinner? Does she have any allergies? Alfred—”
Cass turns to Alfred and continues with her dinner plans, not waiting to consult with Jason.
“She can’t come tonight.” Jason rolls his eyes, sighing heavily. “She’s visiting her family in her hometown.”
A collective groan of disappointment resounds around the room, even Alfred and Bruce seem to huff a bit in despondency.
“So even your own wife can’t stand to be around you, huh?” Damian taunts.
“I swear to god—”
A week later, you and Jason stand out front the manor.
“We can leave, if you want.” Jason says, squeezing your hand reassuringly. Though, you think that was more for himself than you. “Really. No offense on either side, we’ll just say something came up with the baby. That you’re not feeling good, or—”
“Jason.” You interrupt, gently gripping his hand in both of yours. “It’s going to be fine. I promise.”
“I know. I know that. Of course it’s going to be fine.” Jason scoffs, seemingly thinking his casual attitude covered up the stiffness of his shoulders. Your sweet Jason, doesn’t he know you know him too well for that?
“Doesn’t mean I have to want to do it.” He mutters under his breath. You huff out a small breath of laughter, shaking your head.
You rub comforting circles on the back of Jason’s hand. “You ready?” You ask, hopping excitedly on the tips of your toes once you two stop in front of the large, double front doors.
Jason softens as he observes you. A smile slowly overtaking his face and his shoulders loosening, your presence calming and your smile infectious. He couldn’t help but almost share in your excitement—almost.
Before you could even finish knocking, the door swings open. Standing in the threshold was Jason’s sister. If you didn’t know any better you’d suspect she’d been standing there watching and waiting for you two to knock.
She looks over you critically, doing a full head to toe scan of you before looking you straight in the eyes.
You clear your throat, squeezing Jason’s hand for courage. However, before you can let nerves get the better of you, her face breaks out into a brilliant smile.
“Hi!” Cass says, her eagerness barely being restrained. “Welcome! I am Cassandra—but just call me Cass.”
Cass reaches out for your hand, pausing for a moment to see if you’re alright with her grabbing ahold of it. You meet her halfway—much to Jason’s dismay—and you swear the sun shines a little brighter as her face lightens.
She pulls you into the foyer, talking amicably with her entire body as if there weren’t enough words in the world to express her thoughts. “I’m so excited to meet you! I can’t believe Jason has tried to hide you from us.”
“I didn’t—” Jason tries to cut in.
“I asked Jason what you like so I hope everything is perfect for you.” Cass says excitedly, ignoring Jason’s grumbling. She pulls you along further and you have to pick up the pace to keep up with her.
“Hey, careful!” Jason growls. You swat at him and quietly tell him to ‘knock it off’. He looks at you with blatant offense, his eyes telling you he can’t believe you’re taking her side. You roll your eyes and continue following Cass.
Cass drags you into the dining room, Jason trailing in not far behind you. The atmosphere is warm with candles lit and the table all set, the air filled with the comforting smell of all your favorite foods.
An old man dressed in a butler’s suit appears through a swinging door, presumably from the kitchen the smells of food are wafting from.
“Good evening, Miss.” He smiles politely, warm and grandfatherly. “I am Alfred Pennyworth, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
You brighten at the familiar name. “Ah! Alfred, yes, Jason’s told me so much about you!” Alfred nods and pulls out a seat for you, you take it gratefully. You smile jubilantly at Jason as he takes the seat next to you, conveying an ‘I told you so!’, absolutely elated with the smooth meetings so far.
Jason shakes his head fondly. Cass pats your arm on her way out of the dining room, smiling reassuringly. Faintly, down the hall in the foyer you’d just arrived from, you hear her voice call out; “They’re here! Dinner!”
A moment of silence goes by. You and Jason were left alone in the dining room speaking quietly amongst yourselves, Jason’s hand never having left yours.
Then, you hear thundering footsteps approaching from the hallway. Jason groans and slumps down into his chair.
The dining room door bursts open, and a man you recognize as Dick Grayson, Jason’s older brother, stumbles in pushing through the crowd of his younger siblings also trying to fight their way in. You giggle and his eyes snap to you, his face brightening with a charming smile.
He calls out your name and approaches you with his arms spread like he was coming in for a hug. “It’s so great to finally meet you! I’d like to say Jason has told me a lot about you, but he really hasn’t.” He says, obviously still bitter over the fact Jason had kept your relationship a secret from him.
You chuckle sheepishly, glancing at Jason who was glaring at Dick. Jason told you about how it may have slipped his mind the least couple years to mention he was in a relationship to his family. You couldn’t even really be upset considering the fact it may have…slipped yours as well?
The thing was you had met his family before! Sort of. About a year into you two dating, Jason had dragged you to a gala hosted by Bruce Wayne, practically begging you to accompany him so he wouldn’t be ‘bored to death surrounded by a bunch of pompous assholes’ (his words, not yours). You’d clung to Jason’s arm the whole time as Jason skirted on the edges of the ballroom, and fifteen minutes in you two had elected to ditch the event as a whole instead having a date night in.
Throughout the evening, however, quite a couple of his family members had chased him down, and at the least greeted him before he could shake them off. Ok, you guess you can see how being seen walking beside Jason at a gala filled to the brim with people could be overlooked as a proper introduction.
But you knew of Jason’s unconventional relationship with his family, he’d only just started—slowly—integrating himself into their lives after all, so you never pushed for anything.
You felt a bit guilty now, though, after finding out how upset his family had been about not knowing of you.
Dick tries to take the seat next to you but Cass is quick and silent as she slips behind him, yanking the chair out from under Dick before he can properly sit down and sending him crashing to the floor. She maneuvers the chair around him and places the seat next to you again, sitting down with a victorious grin.
Jason bursts out laughing. You try to stifle your own laughter and ask Dick if he’s okay, but with the way Cass and Jason are looking at you with amusement you must be doing a terrible job.
The youngest of the bunch, that you know is Damian Wayne, clicks his tongue. “Get off the floor, Richard, you are embarrassing me.”
You nearly lose your composure again after hearing the words coming out of the young man’s mouth. You can’t help finding it incredibly endearing how prim and proper he presented himself. You really do laugh when the boy’s face turns bright red after you tell him that very notion.
Last to enter is Tim Drake, snickering at the sulking Dick who took the seat across from you instead, and the blushing Damian.
You’re pleasantly surprised how easily you all slip into comfortable conversation. Laughing and teasing, trading stories and silly secrets as if you’ve been doing it for years.
You were having an amazing time, any doubt or anxiety you previously had completely disappearing with your reverberating laughter. Even Jason had lightened up.
Bruce Wayne finally made his appearance once Alfred began bringing out the night’s dinner on trays.
You stiffen imperceptibly, that anxiety slowly creeping back into your stomach, but you don’t let it dampen your mood. Only sitting up straighter and keeping your carefree smile on your face.
Jason sets a reassuring hand on your thigh, heavy and warm and familiar. It soothes your nerves and you take his hand in yours, sending a smile his way.
Bruce sits down quietly, the other Wayne family members not bothering to briefly break in their conversations to acknowledge him. He seems content with this so you don’t say anything either, only waiting for him to look up and meet your eyes.
You greet him politely, and he says your name in return with a small nod. From what you’ve heard from Jason that is a wonderful sign and probably the most you’re going to get out of him, so you take it in stride and smile widely returning to the rest of the table.
It was nice being so included in their inner circle. You had a bit of a rocky relationship with your own family, but you’d all been working on it in recent years. However, the way you slipped so naturally into their dysfunctional quota was like a missing piece of a puzzle finally finding its home.
You could feel even through all the teasing and poking fun that this family would always have each other’s backs. Through the rough and hard times, or even when they’re at each other’s throats, they’d never give up on one another. Knowing Jason had something like that to look after him if anything ever happened to you comforted a piece of your soul.
Halfway through dinner, you glanced at Bruce Wayne, having almost forgotten he was there. Silently he sat, eating his dinner and observing the attendants at the table and your heart melts as you saw the contented warmth in his eyes. He met your eyes and gave you a slight, warm smile, you saw the way he watched Jason and you.
How open and easygoing Jason became with you around, his arm thrown over the back of your chair and him openly talking and laughing without a care. Your heart soared as he gave you an approving nod, almost thanking you for taking care of his son.
Wow. You totally got why people lost their mind’s for the Batman’s approval now.
“Hey.” You’re pulled away from Cass and answering her million questions about your pregnancy; ‘Did you know what it was yet?’ ‘How far along are you?’ ‘Have you picked out names?’ ‘What do you think about this nursery? Or this one?’ ‘Have you considered Kassandra if it’s a girl? With a K of course.’—when Tim whisper-yelled your name across the table.
You chuckled leaning in with the others as they all acquired a conspiring glints in their eyes.
“Be honest—did you totally kick Jason’s ass when you found out his incredible incompetence struck again?” Damian asks, almost excited to hear about your imagined wrath.
“Please tell me you did.” Tim chimed in, still whispering as if Jason wasn’t sitting directly to your left.
“Oh, don’t be too upset with him!” Dick says, though his wolfish grin betrayed his true thoughts. “He’s not the brightest person sometimes, but he means well! We all have our flaws.”
Jason scoffs and you could practically hear him roll his eyes. You respond before Jason can retort.
“Well actually…” You begin, tentatively. “I thought you all knew too.” You confess.
The table goes silent.
“I just thought none of you ever mentioned anything! So I didn’t either.” You chuckle bashfully.
Well, weren’t you two just a pair of peas in a pod.
“And technically!” You add quickly, trying to defend yourself. “We have met before! At a gala, three years ago, around Christmas time.”
“The Christmas Wayne Foundation gala…?” Dick mumbles.
“Mhm!” You nod, Jason holding a hand up to you as if you were proving some point of his.
“Three years ago…” Tim says, almost like he’s trying to make sure he heard you right.
“Where Jason avoided us the whole night and then disappeared before the event really even started?” Cass asks, this time. You’re sort of starting to get the feeling you’ve said the wrong thing.
You nod again, a little less assured now. “Well, yes. But I was there with him!”
“That counts as a meeting, right? I did see all of you.” You turn to Jason who nods in agreement.
“Not your fault they couldn’t put two and two together—” Jason tries to say.
“No!” They shout in unison.
“Are you people living in delusion?”
“You didn’t even invite us to the wedding! How’re we supposed to guess that you’re married?”
“Well it was small! There were only like—two other people there anyway!” Jason tries to defend.
“Not even a Facebook relationship status change?”
Lesson learned. Jason will never assume the ‘world’s greatest detectives’ (derogatory) knew everything ever again.
It also didn’t sail too smoothly when Jason got the bright idea to check if he maybe ever informed his friends of his relationship status. (Spoiler: he hadn’t.)
boyfriend toji fushiguro shows you how a real man takes care of his woman.
cw: toji loves your bush!! soft sweet toji but he’s also a freak.. mdni, oral f!receiving, praise, mentions of shitty exes. wc: 1.1k, art creds ruu_sugu on x
toji fushiguro is a filthy man, but he is a man in all the ways a man can be one, his fingers are calloused, dirt tucked beneath his nails after hours of labor, sweat clinging to his porcelain skin, a nasty scar cutting across his lip that catches the light whenever it tilts into a cruel smirk. he’s cocky, full of attitude, cruel and rough around the edges, but always soft where it matters, and always soft with you.
he’s a man in every sense, he takes you however you desire yourself to be, dolled up or all natural, he doesn’t give a damn, he loves you regardless, and that follows straight into the bedroom.
he doesn’t care if you haven’t showered that day, doesn’t care if you just got back from a run, he’ll peel your leggings off with rough fingers and drag you over his face without a second thought, letting you settle there, your cunt warm and soaked with want, coating him in it. the desire is evident when he pulls back for a breath, his face glistening with your juices.
he doesn’t even care if you’re on your period, he’ll eat you just the same, filthy and unbothered, spit mixing in as his tongue laps at your pussy, pushing into you like he’s starved. the first time he did it, went down on you like that, it shocked you, none of your past boyfriends ever would, they’d always made a face, called it gross, something to avoid, and toji had only scoffed at that, muttering that they were a bunch of fuckin boys, that a real man takes care of his woman no matter what.
toji is a man, but more than that, he’s your man, and despite the sharpness in his attitude, the bite in the way he speaks, he’s a hopeless romantic underneath it all, and when toji fushiguro falls in love, it’s all-consuming, unwavering devotion.
so when he walks through the door of your shared home, limbs heavy and tired, muscles aching, worn down and scuffed up, faint streaks of dirt along his skin and dried blood still clinging to his jaw and split lip, he barely pauses to shut the door behind him. he’s already moving, already looking for you, needing to bury himself in your warmth, to inhale your sweet scent and fall asleep with you tangled around him, limbs locked together tightly.
the bathroom door is cracked open, steam curling out, the steady sound of water hitting tile filling the space, his bruised knuckles tap against the wood, and your voice, soft as honey, drifts through it, warm and familiar, making his cock tighten in his pants from your words alone, “toji? come in, baby.”
“yeah, yeah… i’m comin, doll.” his voice is low, rough, dragging, the kind that settles deep in your chest and pulls heat low in your stomach every time.
his fingers hook around the shower curtain, pushing it aside, already expecting to strip down and pull you close under the hot water.
instead, he stops.
his eyes land on the razor in your hand, the way you’re about to drag it through your bush, and his expression twists, his hand shooting out to grab your wrist, stopping you mid-motion.
“the hell are you doin’?”
you blink at him, brows lifting slightly, “shaving..?”
his jaw tightens, something irritated flashing across his face as he yanks the razor from your hand. “yeah? well quit that shit.”
you huff a little, rolling your eyes, “why, it makes it easier for you, trust me, i know i let it go too long, it’s just annoying to deal with, don’t start, my dumbass ex used to bitch about it enough.”
that does it.
toji lets out a low, annoyed sound, snapping the razor clean in half before tossing it somewhere behind him, already stepping in, already stripping, clothes gone in seconds. his body is all hard lines and muscle, scars and strength, something you’ve traced a hundred times with your hands, and mouth.
his hands find you again, gripping your waist, pulling you into him, his face dropping into the crook of your shoulder, making himself just a little smaller to fit against you.
“you’re a real idiot, y’know that?” his voice is quieter now, still rough, but softer where it presses into your skin, his breath warm even under the spray of water.
his mouth moves after that, dragging down your body, slow and unhurried, savoring it, the feel of you, the way your eyes are laced with something dark as you watch him, it drives him crazy. his hands spread across your waist, holding you steady as he lowers himself, resting his forehead briefly against your stomach. water runs down his back in uneven trails, dark hair clinging, almost blue under the fluorescent light.
“those guys you dated before me,” he mutters, voice dipping lower, rougher, “they ain’t men. just a bunch of pathetic fucks who don’t know what to do with a woman.”
his grip tightens slightly, grounding you to his touch, bordering on something possessive.
“good thing you got me now.”
the words settle heavy as he drops further, pressing kisses along your soapy inner thighs, slow at first before his teeth catch lightly, a sharp nibble etched into your skin, making you jolt.
“should track ‘em down for even thinkin’ they had a right to you,” he adds under his breath, not quite joking, not quite serious either, before his focus shifts completely.
he moves in between your thighs, nudging closer, the bridge of his nose brushing against your folds, his breath warm against you.
“but right now…” his voice comes out rough, worn at the edges from whatever mission he just came back from, “i’ll show you how its supposed to be done.”
“t-toji…” your voice breaks into a small whine when his mouth finally closes around your clit, gentle at first, sucking just enough to pull a reaction from you.
he huffs out a quiet chuckle against you, low and pleased, his tongue sliding out to trace slow circles, dragging upward from your hole before dipping back down, a finger pressing inside you briefly, just to feel the heat of your cunt, spreading you open and teasing.
his actions aren’t rushed, his mouth working at your core, slow and unhurried, finding new ways to please you with his tongue, on his knees, face and mouth buried in your needy pussy, exactly where he wants to be.
it’s obscene, the way he buries himself between your thighs, hands keeping you open, mouth moving against you with intent, water running down his broad back while your nails press faintly into his skin, leaving crescent marks, soft mewls spilling from your lips, quiet at first, then less controlled as his tongue works you open.
“fuck… that’s it,” he murmurs against you, voice muffled but clear enough, “just like that… don’t need to change a damn thing.”
his mouth moves again, kisses scattered between slow licks, tongue pressing in, then dragging up through you and through the hair you were about to get rid of, like he’s proving a point, nearly making out with your bush.
your fingers tangle in his hair, gripping tight as your body reacts, your thighs shifting, your breath turning uneven as he keeps going, steady, focused, pulling everything out of you piece by piece.
by the time he finally looks up, you’re already wrecked, chest rising and falling, the bathroom thick with steam, his gaze heavy, pupils blown wide as he locks onto your desperate state, a crooked grin pulling at his mouth.
“only dumbasses worry about shit like hair,” he mutters, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes still on you, “so quit thinkin’ about it… i ain’t one of ‘em.”
note: this is lwk dookie but i have another toji fic in the works..
masterlist - kofi - emergency commissions
taglist: @xoxojisu @candiiee @seraphsmuse @cvnt4him @soldierboy420 @lotusstarr @cupkiki @3lenaatvt @the-faceless-bride @badslittlemuffin @dreamcastgirl99 @moonstonejpg @wonubby @dienamiight @sofi4dsam @kawaiiclubdaily @therefore-evermore @luckybibucky @sk1ppy-art @myths-and-ledgends @icanread-icantwrite @changkyunnnie @twoplayergaymers @socialobligation @calliopemanga @izutwos @doubelieveme @ivankinnieclatter @roronoafushiguroaratakahakari take a look at this post to be added, or removed!
Yandere!Merman didn't start off by pulling you under. Instead, he chose a slow, agonizingly patient courtship that took months to build. At first, he was just a mysterious silhouette swimming alongside your board out past the break. You’d catch flashes of shimmering teal scales under the water, or see a pale, webbed hand casually gripping the edge of your surfboard when you weren't looking. He wanted you to get used to his presence, turning himself into a regular part of your daily surf routine.
The gap finally closed when he realized you weren't afraid of him. he started popping his head completely out of the water right next to your board, his long, dark hair plastered to his face and his slitted, bioluminescent eyes blinking up at you. You’d just sit cross-legged on your surfboard, drifting on the gentle swells, completely mesmerized as this beautiful, dangerous creature rested his chin on the nose of your board like a curious seal, clicking and purring softly whenever you spoke to them.
Yandere!Merman became completely obsessed with "providing" for you, though his understanding of human logic was incredibly warped. he noticed that you spent hours out on the water without eating, so he decided it was his job to feed you. he would disappear beneath the waves with a powerful flick of his tail, leaving you waiting on your board, only to burst through the surface a few minutes later holding a completely raw, wriggling deep-sea fish in his claws, proudly offering it to you with a wide, fanged grin.
When you laughed and shook your head, trying to explain through gestures that you couldn't eat raw, moving fish, he didn't get discouraged. he just swam closer, floating on his back right next to your board, and began meticulously cleaning the fish with his sharp claws, trying to hand-feed you the raw pieces himself. He would pout, letting out a low, disappointed click from his throat whenever you gently pushed his hand away, utterly confused as to why his favorite human was refusing his hard-earned hunting trophies.
Yandere!Merman gift-giving got a lot more creative when he started raiding sunken trade ships and coastal orchards that dipped over the cliffs. One afternoon, he swam up to your board with his webbed hands overflowing with weirdly preserved, salty pears that had fallen into a nearby cove. He pushed them onto your lap, watching with absolute, unblinking intensity as you took a bite of one. The second he saw your jaw move and realized you were actually eating his gift, his gills flared with excitement, and he let out a loud, euphoric trill that vibrated right through the fiberglass of your board.
You became entirely addicted to this secret routine. You started spending less time actually catching waves and more time just sitting out past the breaker, staring down into the clear blue water, waiting for his shadow to appear. And he loved every second of it. He loved watching you watch him. Every time he dove back down into the reef, he would purposefully swim in elegant, showy loops right beneath your board, flaunting his massive, powerful tail just to keep your eyes locked entirely on him.
Yandere!Merman weaponized this sweet, domestic routine to slowly erode your attachment to the land. While you thought you were just making a unique marine friend, he was tracking your schedule, learning your scent, and making you entirely dependent on his daily visits for excitement. He’s currently letting you stay on top of your board, completely satisfied with hand-feeding you fruits and preening under your attention. Still, his possessive instinct is just waiting for the perfect, stormy day to permanently bring his favorite surfer down into his world for good.
SYNOPSIS - just when sukuna thinks it'll be another round of boring post race interviews, here you come practically calling him a loser on live national tv! wc 1.3k
AUTHOR'S NOTE - the poll winner as a bday gift from me :P ur girl's bday is tmr so i wanted to get this out ASAP thank you so much to everyone who voted :3 not proof read (i need a beta reader omg) enjoy!!
CREDITS - pictures from pinterest, sukuna fanart from @-to00fu, divider from @-cursed-carmine
even with the blinding, and rather unflattering, lighting and flashing cameras of the media pen, sukuna looked as cocky as ever. as a matter of fact, he looked like he thrived in the lime light.
a wave of reporters raised their hands and called for his attention but sukuna was drawn to you. the only one who wasn't hollering over others but there you were, front and center against the barricade. he struts over to your side, stopping just before the mic before he juts his chin in your direction as he spoke into the mic, "the pretty lady with the cute notepad in the front.'
you give him a bland smile that did not reach your eyes. “charming,” you say. “rather impressive drive today, from twelfth to p2. that overtake in lap 11 was impressive, but some are questioning whether it was truly necessary so early in the race."
"what can i say? my instincts told me to follow through, and it paid of," he shrugs.
"you nearly locked up and lost the rear," you challenge.
sukuna's eyes narrowed a fraction, unnoticed by others but not by you.
"that's racing," sukuna says, "if i don't take the gap, someone else will."
"so you believe it was worth dropping two seconds because your tires overheated? and of course, you ignored the recommended pit stop." your voice remained steady, your face seemed almost bored; as if you were lightly scolding a child for something so obvious. had it been anyone else, sukuna would've been annoyed and taken the fine just to cuss them out. but for some reason, he only grins at you in response.
"i still got podium though, now didn't i?"
you hum, as if in thought, "well, they do say second place is the first loser." reporters around you mutter in shock at your sharp words, the other drivers sweat dropped as they stared at sukuna to gauge his reaction, one of the drivers even scooting away from sukuna in a not-so-subtle way.
but instead of blowing up in anger, sukuna only laughs. the sound shocks everyone, it seemed so unnatural coming from him given the tense setting. he didn't seemed offended in the least, in fact, he seemed intrigued.
"you always this nice in your interviews?"
"only to the ones that ignore strat calls."
"i was right in my call."
"you were lucky."
the two of you keep your gaze on the other steady, never once breaking eye contact. sukuna's smirk was now permanently cemented on his face as he analyzed you. ever since he started racing, these interviews were always so bland to him. he enjoyed the fame it got him but that was about it. the questions were always the same and so were the reporters; just any other boring asshole asking the same damn questions. it felt like routine at this point. so it was only natural for him to be so interested in you, the first reporter to ever have the balls to call him the "first loser".
sukuna leans closer the mic as he offers you a question, "you saying im a bad driver?"
for the first time, you return a a coy look at him; almost as if you were silently saying your words not mine. "now, i never said that mr. sukuna."
the other reporters then took this as their chance to try and get his attention to ask their own questions. his team press officer comes up to him and ushers him to another section of the pen, trying to direct the attention away from the interaction the two of you just had on live tv in hopes of preventing a possible pr nightmare. even as he walked away, sukuna couldn't tear his eyes from you until you broke eye contact first and exited the pen, heading to interview another racer. the rest of the interviews were boring as always, but now even more so in comparison to the one he just had with you. he practically sped through the rest of the questions; offering short answers and even blatantly ignoring some reporters. his pr manager could chew him out for it later. for now, he was determined to find you.
by the time post race interviews were over, he was the first to slip away and evade his team in hopes of finding you. he eventually does find you and tries to appear as casual as possible as he watches you do your sign off in front of your camera man's rolling cam. by the time he reaches you, you signal for your camera man to cut it and he puts the camera down, almost shrinking at the sight of sukuna. you turn ever so slightly to look at him, barely even acknowledging him before telling your team to go ahead without you. leaving just you and sukuna.
"anything i can help you with?" you ask him, not angling your body to face him. and though you would never admit nor would you ever show it on your face, you were a little intimidated now that he was standing so close. and with his ridiculous height, he was practically leaning over you.
that snarky grin returns to his face like it was his nature. "y'know, most reporters try pretty damn hard not to insult me on live television."
"now when did i insult you?" you ask.
"i seem to remember you calling me 'the first loser'," sukuna repeats, even if he didn't seem the least bit insulted by your earlier jab.
"i don't believe i was calling you that directly," you justify. "merely referencing an old saying."
"eh semantics," sukuna shrugs. "besides, i'm not here to reprimand you for insulting me."
"then why do you seem like you're waiting for an apology?"
"i'm not, just.. interested," sukuna replies honestly. "not every day someone has the guts to say the stuff you did."
"would you have preferred i say it behind your back?" you offer, the corners of your lips pulling into a small smirk.
this pulls another chuckle from him as he steps even closer to you as he looks down at you with a calm expression-too calm. "you really don't care if the drivers like you, huh?"
"i don't get paid to make you like me."
"no, but wouldn't it make your job so much easier?"
"i wouldn't say that," you say. "you seem pretty intrigued by my methods so i'll take it as a job well done."
the grin on his face widens; this was refreshing to say the least. not only do you insult him, but the way you hold this banter with him was just so easy. perhaps he was still coming off the high from the race. that's what he'll blame it on should this go downhill from here.
"what do you say to a date then? to see how effective your methods really are. and ill show you mine," he suggests, his voice dropping into a low, sultry tone at the last word.
to no surprise, you don't back off. rather, you take a step forward and look up at him alluringly. "then i'm afraid ill have to decline. i don't go on dates with losers."
sukuna barks out a laugh, grinning proudly as he says, "is that so? well don't you worry your pretty little head. my next race is next weekend so clear your schedule for me, yeah?"
you pull away from and turn to walk away. but not before throwing a smile over your shoulder. "win first then we'll see, sukuna."
YAY i hope you guys liked thisss !! also sorry if any of the f1 terminology is off.... i had to larp for this fic :((( i will prob make a part two tbh (about how their date goes and MAYBE some smut if im up to it) lmk how we feel and if you wanna be added to the taglist :D
EDIT!! read part two hereeee
zayne who makes out with you to lull you to sleep.
he knows it’s not easy for you to fall asleep. he’s woken up to you wide awake at 3am, scrolling on your phone that’s way too close to your face. he’s tried every remedy out there—warm milk before bed, tea before bed, no gadgets before bed, reading before bed—yet not a single one has been effective. it always ends with you staying up until it’s time for him to wake up.
only one thing ever worked, though. kissing you until you pass out.
as soon as you finish your nighttime routine, zayne is already ushering you to his lap. he sets his book down on the bedside table, slips his glasses off, and lets his hands run up and down your sides in slow, soothing motions. in the summer, he even uses his evol, a gentle coolness settling over your skin just enough to make you relax.
once you’re on top of him, it starts with a kiss to your cheek. then another along your jaw, before he drags his lips down your neck. after that, he comes back up to meet your mouth, slotting his lips with yours. he doesn’t rush it. doesn’t deepen it more than necessary. just steady, unhurried kisses meant to calm your breathing rather than steal it away.
without breaking contact, he eases you down onto the bed, movements careful and practiced. one hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing softly against your skin while the other keeps you close. his kisses grow slower, softer, lingering just a second longer each time.
he murmurs quietly inbetween—nothing dramatic, just low reassurances, reminders that he’s here, you’re safe, that you don’t have to think about anything else. eventually, he turns the two of you onto your sides, pulling you flush against his chest.
his hand slips under your sleep shirt, meticulous fingertips tracing circles along your back. his nails scratch lightly, rhythmically, exactly the way he knows you like. your breathing eventually evens out without you realizing it, body melting into his.
there’s a small smile on his lips when he feels you go slack against him.
and as your eyes finally flutter closed, zayne doesn’t stop right away. he presses one last kiss to your lips, thumb brushing beneath your eye as if to make sure you’re really asleep. only then does he still, arm tightening around you just slightly.
you fall asleep to the sound of his steady breathing and the cool comfort of his presence—while zayne stays awake a little longer, making sure you don’t wake again.
the thing about your boyfriend, kirishima , is that he sleeps like he’s dead or doesnt sleep at all. better yet, he sleeps like a rock.
the type of sleeper that doesn’t budge — no matter how many times you poke his cheek, nudge his shoulder, or drape your body over him just to get a reaction.
the second kirishima lets his head hit the pillow, it’s like a switch flips. one minute he’s laughing, grinning wide, all sharp teeth and warmth, and then the next… he’s out cold, arm slung over you like it’s second nature.
kirishima is also the type to subconsciously cuddle you in your sleep. even if he falls asleep on his side of the bed, he will end up glued to you. arm around your waist, leg thrown over yours, face tucked into your shoulder or neck, mumbling in his sleep: “you’re… so pretty…” “my girl…”
on top of that, kirishima’s strength does NOT turn off... if he falls asleep holding you, whether it be your hand or your waist, you’re not escaping until he’s fully conscious. if he’s feeling nice that is…
but . . . on the nights kirishima doesn’t sleep, it’s the complete opposite.
he’ll lie there beside you, eyes open, staring at the ceiling as if tracing imaginary constellations. quieter than usual. yet his hand still always finds yours under the blanket, thumb brushing over your knuckles in slow, absent circles.
boyfriend kirishima is also equivalent to that of a heater. his body runs warm 24/7, so sleeping next to him is like having a built in heated blanket . . . just one that talks in his sleep.
so yeah, your boyfriend sleeps like a rock. but a warm rock of endless praise and affirmation. a heavy one at that. but you love it.
