𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓, 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 & 𝐓𝐄𝐍
“𝐒𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐘”
╰┈➤𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒: Where Suguru Geto ends up becoming enamored with Gojo’s Non-sorcerer sister to the point of obsession.
╰┈➤𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Unedited, Rushed, Cringe, Brief Cannibalism, Self Harm, Taiyohime Slander, Satoru pissing the bed, Dumbass Mc.
╰┈➤𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere! Suguru Geto x Fem! Gojo’s Sister! Non-sorcerer! Reader
╰┈➤𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: yeah... This is becoming more like a crackfic now, but dw pookies, i’m gonna make it a lot more darker once it reaches chapter 13, just enjoy the fluffy moments and comedies cause i’m gonna take it all away soon<3. Just decided to post it all in one go because I’m too lazy to post them one by one. Reblogs and Hearts are greatly appreciated<3
╰┈➤𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑.
╰┈➤𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
SUGURU'S JAW CLENCHED AS he felt a discomforting sensation as he tried to shift and readjust his position. The weight of [Name]’s knee pressing against his groin made him feel as if she was engaging in some sort of suggestive movement—It was as if she was humping him.
His gaze met hers, his face turning red with embarrassment. Each breath he took seemed to escape his lungs in small, visible puffs of air. The close proximity between them and the physical contact only intensified his embarrassment.
He wanted to push her away but his fucking body won’t move
Her attention seemed to have momentarily drifted away, resulting in her missing his earlier words about having a blistered skin in the same area.
“I’m really sorry! ‘m sorry, i didn’t meant to do that, i swear!” she sincerely apologized while tenderly touching the blistered skin on his forehead, touching it with her fingertips and as she did so, Suguru visibly shivered from the sensation.
Despite the pain he experienced from the scalding hot tea accidentally spilling on both of them, the discomfort seemed insignificant to him in comparison to where her fucking knee was, it hurts a lot yet it's somehow thrilling. His primary concern revolved around ensuring she moved her knee away, fearing the potential consequences of his body’s response.
In a desperate attempt to control his physical reaction, Suguru repeated the words “Don’t get hard” silently in his mind. However, unfortunately for him, his body reacted on its own as a surge of blood cascaded towards his nether regions, causing his face to flush a deeper shade of red resembling a ripe tomato.
Suguru felt like as if he was a horny hormonal teenager boy.
“gods, ’m so sorry, ‘m sorry,”
Suguru lamented, pressing his head against the nearest wall in frustration and remorse.
“I’m sorry, i’m sorry”
“Huh?” [Name] blinked in utter confusion, her eyes locking onto him as she struggled to make sense of his apology.
“Why are you apologizing? I'm the one at fault here!” she exclaimed, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. Although she could feel something poking and prodding her kneecaps, she chose not to mention it, as she had a tendency to ignore physical discomfort. To her dismay, she noticed blisters forming on her skin, causing immense pain and a reddening effect as if the skin was melting. However, she was too preoccupied with other matters to pay attention or address it. Besides, she has a high pain tolerance and this was nothing new to her, given the hardships she had endured in her own clan, the Gojo clan, where far worse things had occurred compared to being scalded by boiling water.
“I'm sorry,” Suguru repeated once more, genuinely remorseful for the situation unfolding before them.
“No, I should be the one apologizing!” [Name] interjected, her voice filled with guilt.
“No, I truly am sorry,” Suguru insisted,
“I am the most wretched and depraved individual to ever exist,” he chastised himself , berating his own actions for allowing such a trivial event to arouse him.
“I am the most filthiest degenerate to ever exist”
He couldn't believe that something as simple as this incident had caused such a reaction within him. Moreover, he couldn't comprehend how he just fucking got hard for someone he barely knew. Yes, they had met once and he had been drawn to her positive energy, but that was the extent of their relationship; nothing more, nothing less.
They are strangers.
The perplexed expression on [Name]'s face grew as she heard Suguru utter those words, her mind struggling to comprehend the reasoning behind his self-deprecating comments. She couldn't grasp why he would speak of himself in such a disparaging manner; after all, he had always shown himself to be a gentleman, far from any notions of degeneracy.
"But you're not!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine confusion.
“Don't say such things about yourself!”
“I am,” he responded, his gaze dropping downward, causing [Name] to follow his line of sight, she promptly moved her knee away from its position, now resting against Suguru’s thigh and suguru coulrn’t help but feel relieved. It was then that she noticed a noticeable bulge straining against Suguru’s pants in the groin area.
The room suddenly became quiet, filled with tension and awkwardness as [Name] turned just as red as suguru.
“Wait... Are you two fucking?” they heard a dumbfounded voice that belongs to satoru say.
“EXCUSE ME?!” The booming voice of taiyohime exclaimed.
•───癖好───•
Satoru wrapped the bandages around Suguru with an evident display of anger, ensuring a tight fit that caused Suguru to wince in pain.
“You're making my blood circulation constrict!”
Frustrated, Suguru snapped accusingly. In response, Satoru flicked Suguru's forehead, dangerously close to the already blistered skin.
“I trusted you! How could you do this to me?!”
Fat crocodile tears began to form on satoru’s crystal eyes as he placed his hands on suguru’s shoulder and began to shake the shit outta the black haired man.
Surprised, Suguru gazed at Satoru, unable to comprehend the words coming out of his mouth. “What the hell are you even saying?”
“You were trying to steal my sister!”
Satoru continued to accuse Suguru of attempting to steal his sister away from him, lamenting the perceived betrayal. Completely taken aback, Suguru was flabbergasted, not understanding where these accusations were coming from.
“What? No, i’m not” Trying to defend himself, he vehemently denied Satoru's claims, but Satoru remained firm in his belief, asserting that Suguru was indeed trying to steal his sister.
“Yes you are!”
Suguru's eyes widened with disbelief as he tried to reason with Satoru, who was still shaking him by the shoulders as if trying to shake some sense into him.
“I saw the way you looked at her, like she was a piece of juicy steak and you were a hungry wolf!” Satoru's voice trembled with intense emotions as he confronted Suguru, emphasizing his observation of the way Suguru looked at her. Satoru vividly described the intensity in Suguru's gaze, comparing it to that of a ravenous wolf fixated on a delectable piece of juicy steak. By using such strong imagery, Satoru made it evident that he firmly believed Suguru had sinister intentions of stealing his sister away from him.
“Dude, what are you talking about? Your sister literally just tripped and fell on top of me! It was a total accident, I swear!”
Suguru's eyebrows knitted in utter astonishment, clearly unable to comprehend the situation at hand, while he exerted the utmost effort to extricate himself from the firm grasp of Satoru. His mind clouded with perplexity.
Satoru's eyes flashed with a mixture of hurt and anger as he refused to be swayed.
“Oh, so now you're denying it? You were practically ogling her!”
“Satoru, I honestly think you have some serious misconceptions!” Suguru sighed heavily and felt his head spinning as Satoru persistently shook him.
“Stop being delusional!”
Suguru couldn't comprehend why on earth Satoru believed that he was trying to steal his own sister. While Suguru had encountered a few overprotective brothers before, none of them were as eccentric as Satoru.
“I assure you, I am not ogling on her,” Suguru groaned, desperately trying to reason with Satoru.
“But you are!” Satoru continued to insist, refusing to let the matter go and stubbornly clinging into his beliefs
“I'm not even interested, besides—” Suguru attempted to convince Satoru, but was abruptly interrupted.
“Are you implying that she's ugly and an eyesore?” Satoru's words hit Suguru like a ton of bricks, causing him to facepalm in frustration.
“So you think that she’s ugly and not worth looking at, huh?” Satoru snapped and suguru raised his hand and smacked satoru.
Meanwhile, [Name] and taiyohime found themselves in the bathroom, attending to their injuries. taiyohime was carefully applying bandages to her wounds, while [Name] was also tending to her own injuries. However, her face remained flushed with embarrassment from the earlier encounter with suguru. Now she was uncertain about how to face him after what had happened.
Meanwhile, taiyohime cast a suspicious glance at [Name], her eyes filled with doubt and mistrust. Her voice dripped with venom as she confronted [Name], her chest rising and falling heavily with each breath.
“Did you both actually fucked?” taiyohime spat out the question, her accusatory tone causing [Name]'s jaw to drop in shock. The latter was about to defend herself and deny the accusation, but taiyohime's next words stopped her in her tracks.
“Did he force himself on you? I know you would never willingly engage in such behavior. After all, you're a good girl,” taiyohime asserted, causing [Name]'s face to turn even redder with embarrassment.
“Why is it so quick?”
“No! Stop making assumptions!” [Name] practically shouted in frustration, her voice filled with embarrassment and irritation.
“We didn't have... or anything like that! It was just an accident and... and..!” [Name] trailed off, throwing her head back in exasperation as she buried her face in her hands. Despite her explanation, taiyohime continued to regard her with suspicion.
“I'm a minor, seriously!” [Name] said, frustrated and exasperated, emphasizing her point.
“So is Satoru and Geto,” Taiyohime responded, crossing her arms over her chest as she finished tending to her wounds. She added this detail to highlight that being a minor was not an excuse for the situations they were discussing.
“And they're no virgins anymore,” Taiyohime said, letting out a sigh that reflected a mixture of annoyance and disappointment. [Name] looked at her with disbelief, not expecting the conversation to take this turn.
“... why are you telling me this?” She eyed taiyohime suspiciously because she’s not interested in knowing someone’s sex life.
“Can we just drop the subject?” [Name] pleaded, feeling overwhelmed and not wanting to delve into the topic any further, because the memory of her father was still fresh in her mind and She hoped to redirect the conversation to something else.
“Fine.” Taiyohime acquiesced, her black eyes narrowing slightly, indicating some level of annoyance.
“But if geto really did, I wouldn't hesitate to throw hands,” Taiyohime grumbled, her frustration evident. She then reached into her pockets, searching for something. Eventually, she pulled out a cellphone and handed it to [Name].
“Take this, if Satoru ever tries to do something funny,” Taiyohime said seriously, her tone implying a sense of protectiveness towards [Name]. This made [Name] furrow her brows, confused about Taiyohime's insinuation. After all, Satoru was her brother and had always taken care of her, protecting her on multiple occasions.
“And also, you're going to start attending Jujutsu High,” Taiyohime explained, causing [Name]'s eyes to widen in surprise. This revelation was unexpected, as [Name] had heard about Jujutsu High before due to Satoru attending there. However, it also filled her with excitement to finally experience a normal teenage life by going to school.
“What? Really?” [Name] exclaimed, a mix of disbelief and anticipation in her voice. The notion of attending Jujutsu High made her feel a sense of belonging and normalcy.
“Yep,” Taiyohime confirmed with a nod before continuing.
“Since you haven't really had proper education before and never attended school, you weren’t accepted easily. But I already talked to some of the higher-ups, and they accepted you on two conditions because you’re a gojo.”
“One. You’ll attend summer school. And two, you’re going to train under a special grade since you’re a non-sorcerer.”
“What’s summer school...?”
[Name] blinked in puzzlement as she gazed up at taiyohime with big, questioning eyes, her head slightly tilted and her lips parted in curiosity. She absorbed every word from the older girl with keen interest, trying to understand.
“What do you mean by that..?” [Name] inquired, her tone filled with confusion, causing taiyohime to sigh heavily and cross her arms over her chest, her breathing deep and steady.
“Well...” taiyohime paused, avoiding direct eye contact as she struggled to explain. She seemed hesitant, perhaps reluctant to divulge certain information.
“A summer school are classes taken during the summer that replace classes that were missed or failed,” She explained gently, making [Name] nod.
“I see, what about the special grade?”
“A special grade refers to sorcerers possessing immense strength that can cause immeasurable destruction,” Taiyohime elaborated, her hands stuffed in her pockets as she observed [Name]'s reaction, noticing how her lips formed an 'O' of surprise.
“Hmm, like Satoru,” [Name] mused, recalling the unparalleled strength of her renowned brother, for his status as a special grade was indisputable. Taiyohime acknowledged this with a subtle nod, prompting [Name] to speculate whether it would indeed be Satoru who would undertake her training. She wouldn’t protest though for she was holding her brother in the highest esteem.
“So..” [Name] began.
“I will be training with 'Toru?”
[Name] questioned, a sense of excitement evident in her voice as she thought about the prospect of training alongside Satoru. However, her enthusiasm waned when she saw the disapproving expression on taiyohime's face.
“Possibly,” taiyohime responded with a hint of irritation in her tone, clearly frustrated by the idea of [Name] training with Satoru. She believed that [Name] needed a more physical approach to training, considering her strength, a fact taiyohime knew firsthand from secretly coaching her in the past.
After all, what could Satoru even teach her? Teach her the nuances of blue and red? Explain the essence of colors? Taiyohime acknowledged Satoru's prowess in hand-to-hand combat, but it was his reliance on limitless that gave her pause.
Because what the hell was [Name] supposed to do when she couldn't even make contact with him when limitless was active? Moreover, Taiyohime reckoned that [Name]'s physical strength matched her own, and because she doesn't have cursed energy, the training would likely focus heavily on physical combat and handling cursed weapons.
Thus, Taiyohime found herself torn between options on who's the more suitable special grade.
On one hand, there was Satoru, skilled in physical combat and super strong too because of limitless and six eyes, and on the other, Suguru, adept at both physical fighting, cursed spirits and cursed weaponry.
However, both men had earned a spot marked with an 'x' in Taiyohime's mind, as she hesitated to entrust [Name]'s training to them. Originally, Taiyohime had considered suggesting Suguru as a trainer for [Name], but after the recent incident, that idea had been swiftly discarded.
Satoru was no viable choice either. This left her with only one option: Yuki Tsukumo.
Yuki, another Special Grade, was probably the only special grade taiyohime respects.
Maybe it's better if yuki was [Name]'s trainer, because there's no testosterone and they're both women. But, the problem is, how the fuck is she supposed to reach out to yuki when she's at abroad?
Taiyohime let out an exasperated groan, her bandaged hand pressed against her throbbing forehead. In the periphery of her vision, she observed [Name] fumbling with the cellphone she has given her, holding it upside down. With a resigned sigh, she muttered, “That's not how it's done,” her voice laced with the weariness of a tired parent returning home from a long day at work.
Curious, [Name] queried, “Then how?”
Her eyes followed Taiyohime's swift actions as she deftly took the phone from her grip and effortlessly flipped it.
“Oh.. so that's how it's done then..” [Name] murmured, her gaze shifting to Taiyohime, who appeared lost in thought.
“Why is it black?” [Name] inquired, remembering that phones aren't supposed to be like this, because she has seen satoru use some phones sometimes. Gently tapping the phone's screen, [Name] accidentally brushed a button with her other hand caused the device to suddenly flash open, startling [Name] into a yelp, followed by a grimace of discomfort.
“What the hell was that?” [Name] was not okay with having a cellphone now, because she almost got blinded by that, and ofcourse, since she shares the same genes as satoru, she likes to exaggerate.
“That's normal” Taiyohime sighed, a hint of weariness in her voice.
“Is it really?” [Name] inquired, a puzzled expression causing furrows to appear on her brow.
“Yes,” Taiyohime affirmed, her shoulders drooping slightly in resignation.
“Well, that's weird”
Taiyohime sighed softly before composing herself and clearing her throat.
“Anyway, regarding your mentor,” she started, an obvious disdain on her voice.
“Would you... be amenable for geto to be your trainer instead of... satoru?” Taiyohime finally broached the topic after much inner debate. She had concluded that Suguru would be the ideal fit as [Name]'s trainer, especially considering that he has cursed spirit manipulation and that he could also show her how cursed spirits looks like. Unaware that [Name] was already acquainted with such creatures.
Though Taiyohime harbored disdain about Suguru mentoring [Name], she deemed it a better option than entrusting her to Satoru. While acknowledging Satoru's strength and love for his sibling, she doubted his ability to maintain a balanced approach, after all, satoru loved [Name] too much and Taiyohime was unwilling to gamble on such uncertainties.
“Just...” taiyohime began. “Just tell me if he ever tries to do something funny, okay?”
At the mention of Suguru, [Name]'s cheeks flushed crimson. How could she face him after their recent embarrassment? The lingering shame colored her cheeks. How the fuck is she supposed to face him? His dick probably hurts after that! And honestly? She can't blame him if he ever avoids her because not only did she fucking spilled scalding hot water on them, she also kneed him unintentionally!
“I.. [Name]...”
Taiyohime's voice trailed off as she hesitated, her eyes filled with uncertainty.
“I know that it's... I know you probably prefer Satoru, but...” She pondered whether to unveil the deep-rooted reason behind her discomfort whenever Satoru drew close to [Name].
Her gaze flickered away, avoiding the intensity of the conversation.
“Nevermind,” she murmured softly, sensing the weight of her unspoken words lingering in the air.
“Anyway... As you're likely to start tomorrow, I'll inform Geto about it, i just hope he agrees though...” Taiyohime's last words held a hint of reluctance, masking her true desire for the special grades not to agree on mentoring [Name] so that she could take on the task herself. Yet, the obstacle lay in Satoru, whose unwavering devotion to [Name] clouded Taiyohime's plans.
“And... Also”
“Nevermind, just... forget it,” she muttered, her jaw clenching slightly as she suppressed her inner turmoil, she took a deep breath before finally deciding on what to do next, give [Name] a cursed tool that she could use.
“And.. I'll also give you something..” Taiyohime revealed, causing [Name] to blink and shake off her flustered demeanor.
“Huh? What are you giving me?”
Taiyohime averted her gaze momentarily, raising her hand to conjure a black portal in the very air. From within the portal descended a weapon, leaving [Name] wide-eyed in astonishment as Taiyohime confidently seized the weapon.
It was an imposing sword, it was big, very big, it's on the level of taiyohime's collarbone, and tell you what, taiyohime is tall.
The sword was exceptionally crafted with an eerie and distinctive design: adorned with sharp, fang-like embellishments that lent it a menacing aura, as though the blade itself possessed a sinister vitality. The intricate details was dominated by dark hues with hints of crimson, and the blade itself seemed as if it's alive.
“What the hell is that?”
[Name] pointed at the sword, she was rather entranced by the weapon before her. The existence of such a peculiar sword left her both bewildered and intrigued.
There were teeth, and teeth, and [Name] thinks that it's interesting.
“Whoa, that's cool” [Name] exclaimed in awe, prompting a surprised blink from Taiyohime, followed by a smile.
“It is,” Taiyohime nodded in agreement, puffing her chest like a proud father and tightening her grip on the sword before offering it to [Name], realizing she needed to provide some context before handing over the remarkable weapon.
“So, this is my cursed tool,” Taiyohime began to elucidate. “A tool of specialized grade,” she continued, emphasizing its significance.
“It goes by the name amane no habakiri...” Taiyohime paused, knowing all too well the sword's sentience and its preference for being addressed by its true name to avoid unpleasant consequences, because the cursed tool in question was not the ordinary cursed tool. It feeds on blood, particularly the flesh of the cursed spirits and other stuff.
When it inflicted a slash, it also had a biting effect, creating a double threat. Furthermore, its bite had poisonous properties, adding to the danger it posed. Despite its preference for cursed spirits, it did not hesitate to consume humans as well. Taiyohime often found herself having to cut her own finger to satisfy the tool's hunger and prevent it from deteriorating. And as she knows how to do reversed cursed technique, Taiyohime viewed this gruesome ritual almost like a hobby. Because in the absence of cursed spirits for the tool to consume, she would willingly sacrifice a finger of her own to keep it satisfied.
But, is [Name] willing to do the same thing for habakiri too? That was her question.
“Do you want it?” inquired Taiyohime, observing as [Name] eagerly nodded in response. Curiously, [Name] asked,
“How does it function?” she asked.
Taiyohime proceeded to run her fingers along the sharp teeth of the sword, purposely nicking herself on the blade, causing the skin to split open like an egg and blood to flow out. The sword responded to taiyohime's blood, autonomously glowing to signify its readiness for use.
Shocked, [Name] exclaimed,
“What the fuck?” [Name] sputtered in disbelief. Concerned, [Name] winced upon noticing the cut on taiyohime's finger and asked,
“Taiyohime nee-san, are you alright?”
Recuperating, taiyohime reassured,
“don’t worry ‘bout me, I'm okay.” Taiyohime said while placing her finger to her lips to taste her own blood.
Explaining the sword's nature, Taiyohime revealed,
“It feeds on the cursed spirit's flesh, requiring sustenance to function properly. If not provided, it may seek out... alternate sources of nourishment.” she explained .
“And this is how you hide the sword,” She murmured.
“Conceal yourself,” she said, prompting the sword to retract its fangs and transform into a sheathed form, resembling a large regular sword.
“WHAT”
[Name] practically screamed, her jaw hitting the floor at the bizarre sight of the sword. Not only was it strange, but it could also be controlled? [Name] toyed with the idea of commanding the sword to take a nibble out of someone, but shook off the notion, still dumbfounded by what she was seeing.
“What the fuck?” She exclaimed, her eyebrows knitting together. Taiyohime was gifting her this thing? What if it decided to have her for dinner? [Name] shuddered at the thought and let out a squeak when Taiyohime thrust the sword into her hand, causing her to recoil at the icy touch.
“W-what?! Are you sure this won't mistake me for a snack?!” [Name] asked with uncertainty, to which Taiyohime just shrugged.
“As long as you keep it fed, you should be safe... Hopefully,” Taiyohime said, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, earning an annoyed huff from [Name]. Her heart raced and she nervously took a deep breath, careful not to drop the sword for fear of becoming its next meal. She secretly wished Taiyohime would take it back. Sure, it seemed cool at first, but the idea of it chomping on humans? No, thank you. She wasn't in the mood to be a snack.
“It might eat satoru though.” Taiyohime added.
—癖好—
[Name] sat onto the bed boredly. Fortunately for her, Satoru's dorm had two separate bedrooms, allowing her some privacy. She found herself in the spare room, grateful for the peace and quiet. The mysterious sword, Habakiri, lay on the table, its presence casting a sense of unease over her. Taiyohime had instructed her on how to wield the sword and avoid falling prey to its powers, and also teaching her how to command it or something.
With a hesitant hand, she reached out to touch the blade, flinching at the cold touch. To her relief, the sword remained still, offering no supernatural response. [Name] let out a frustrated sigh, uncertain of how to navigate her newfound responsibility of keeping the sword in check.
Restless, she found herself unable to sleep, prompting her to retrieve the phone gifted to her by Taiyohime from under the bed. While Taiyohime had provided guidance on using Habakiri, it was Satoru who had imparted the basics of using a phone. The device intrigued her, and she scrolled through the contacts list, contemplating reaching out to Taiyohime for guidance.
Though, she was probably asleep by now, cause it's currently midnight.
Intrigued, [Name] suddenly noticed a familiar name among the contacts: Suguru Geto. Confusion washed over her as she tried to make sense of why she had Suguru's number. Taiyohime's list of contacts also included names such as Masamichi Yaga, Ieri Shoko, Utahime Iori, and many more individuals she was not acquainted with.
Seeing that Suguru was online, [Name] found herself torn between the desire to send him a message and the lingering need to apologize for past events, but she ended up deciding to chat him.
With a sense of hesitance, she cautiously started composing a message addressed to him.
You: Good evening, This is [Name]. I want to apologize for what has happened earlier.
You: Geto-san... I'm sorry for spilling hot water on you and for also.. you know. I know how protective satoru is, do he probably scolded you and assumed some things huh? Is your skin okay by now? I hope it is, I'm really sorry, I didn't meant to do that. I hope you're okay, i hope you have a goodnight.
[Name] chewed nervously on her lower lip while staring at the message she sent on her phone, finding it slightly goofy. Suddenly, her expression changed as she blinked in surprise at the notification from suguru.
Suguru Geto: Hm? It's in the middle of the night right now, why are you still awake? And no, it's fine. shoko already treated the burns, don't worry about me. I'm sorry too, for.. i don't know.
Suguru Geto:
But still, Are you okay, Gojo? You should be asleep by now.
[Name] blinked in surprise as she read Suguru's message, which mentioned that Shoko had treated him. As she recognized the name Shoko from her contact list, she couldn't help but wonder who this person was.
However, a sense of relief washed over her as she realized that Suguru was not angry with her. She was also relieved to know that he didn't harbor any beed towards her though. With shaky hands, she started typing her response to him, but before she could finish typing her message, suguru had already gave her yet another message.
Suguru Geto:
Is something bothering you? Do you need someone to talk to? If yes, then I'm willing to listen.
Suguru Geto:
If you can't sleep then you can talk to me till you fall asleep.
Letting out a soft hum, [Name] adjusted her position on the bed, before finally settling onto her stomach. She gazed at the message on her phone, tilting her head slightly in curiosity.
The offer of companionship from Suguru made [Name] ponder on his thoughtfulness. She marveled at his considerate gesture, feeling grateful for his kindness.
Deep in contemplation, [Name] started composing her response to Suguru's offer, typing out her message.
You: If it's not a bother then, i could use some company. Really need ‘to get sleepy
You: can’t really sleep, supposed that i drank too many coffee
[Name] let out a heavy sigh, her chest rising and falling with the weight of each breath, as she recollected that she had consumed about four cups of coffee throughout the day. She gently rested a hand on her neck, running her fingers over the taut muscles while waiting for Suguru's response.
Suguru Geto: ah, so that's why.
Suguru Geto: Well, drinking coffee does make you alert and all, so i suppose that it's normal, huh?
You: it is, i suppose.
You: I mean... Caffeine is a substance that acts as a stimulant by boosting activity within the brain and nervous system after all. And it contains chemicals like cortisol.
Suguru Geto: Haha, that's cute.
[Name] glanced at the message from suguru, pondering about the reason on why on earth he finds it cute. As she stared at her screen momentarily, the unexpected compliment lingered in the air, making her feel a sense of discomfort. After a brief pause, she composed yourself and resumed typing her response to suguru.
You: i suppose it is.
Suguru Geto: Hm, say, do you like science?
You: Yeah, It's interesting and all. I love anatomy and astronomy, physiology, biology and many more. I hate physics though and chemistry.
You: Cause what the hell is the acceleration of motorcycle on top of the mountain gonna do if i got stabbed?
Suguru Geto: Haha, that's a shame, because i love physics. Satoru does too, he's really good at it.
Suguru Geto: And perhaps the motorcycle will come down the hill and run over the person that stabbed you?
[Name] scoffed in amusement at that quip.
Though, she knew that Satoru indeed excelled in physics. As she glanced at the screen, a smile played on her lips, indicating her genuine enjoyment of the conversation.
Satoru seemed to have a knack for mastery in various subjects, with the exception of cooking, ofcourse. Despite this, he proved to be an exceptional teacher though.
Essentially, he was like her primary educator and all, even teaching her physics, chemistry or something like the quadratic equations and calculus that she doesn't even know if it would help her if she got stabbed.
She heard a ding in her phone, indicating that suguru sent another message.
Suguru Geto: Speaking of Satoru... Don't i get a thank you for sacrificing my stomach for you? I think that we should thank Taiyohime senpai too, since she only left a little bit for me.. and none for you... She's so kind isn't she?
Suguru Geto: I think that you owe me a drink for that, you know? I got a stomach ache from all of it.
A laugh bubbles up on her throat as she remembered her petty argument with suguru earlier, and their debate being whether who shall give taiyohime the food and get saved by not eating satoru's cooking.
[Name] had a strong love for her brother, however, she couldn't deny the fact that his culinary abilities were lacking and just straight up horrible. She kept this opinion to herself though, hoping that he would not go into the kitchen again and straight up praying that he would abandon his cooking endeavors.
Despite her silent disapproval though, she had allowed satoru to prepare dessert earlier, and she regretted it deeply. The appearance of the dessert was deceivingly appetizing, but the taste was nothing short of repulsive. It was like a mixture of unsavory flavors, reminiscent of unwashed bitter gourd, oregano, and uncooked egg yolk. [Name] was relieved that she had not consumed any of it. On the other hand, suguru seemed to have a different reaction to satoru's creation, as he actually ate it and may have suffered from digestive issues as a result.
Taiyohime on the other hand...
Well, she had it worse because she ate almost all of it.
FLASHBACK: EARLIER
“Why does their food look so much better than mine?” Taiyohime questioned, black eyes narrowing to slits, slender fingers tightening their grip on the utensils, the metallic clinks echoing in the tense air.
Satoru leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest in a display of casual arrogance as he manspreads.
With a flip of his hand and a smirk playing at the corner of his lips, Satoru retorted sassily,
“Because this dessert is made with love, obviously.” A self-satisfied smirk danced on his face, clearly proud of his response, thinking that he ate with that shitty ass response.
“And I don't love you.”
“What kind of shitty response is that you—”
Before Taiyohime could bark back her insult at satoru, both [Name] and Suguru chimed in simultaneously, offering her their own portions.
“You can have mine—”
The two of them stared at each other dumbfounded, a silent struggle passing between them as they vied to be the more generous host.
“Oh, sure, thanks, I'll be taking it then..?” Taiyohime trailed off, eyeing the two.
“Senpai,”
Suguru mustered a smile, though beneath it lurked a sense of unease—It was tight lipped, and forced.
“Please take mine. she can have mine, you don't have to, Gojo.” The black haired man insisted, a tinge of apprehension in his gaze when he remembered Satoru's mention of love-infused food.
Typically, this would indicate that Satoru was the one who prepared the dessert. Even though Satoru did not explicitly state that he was responsible for making it, Suguru had a strong hunch that Satoru was behind it. Watching [Name] reject the dish and offer it to Taiyohime too confirmed Suguru's suspicions that Satoru was the chef. The idea of consuming something prepared by Satoru sent chills down his spine, as he realized that if Taiyohime refused his cooking or ended up with accepting [Name]'s dish, he would likely have to consume whatever Satoru had cooked.
“Senpai, have mine instead, it's really tasty.”
Suguru pushed his plate of food to Taiyohime.
“Don't mind if i do then, thanks geto” Taiyohime grinned.
Satoru was taken aback, his blue eyes growing wider in offense.
“Are you really going to give that void eyes woman the food that was made with so much care and love from both me and [Name]?” Satoru said, feeling offended by the idea. However, Suguru gave him a serious look, his eyes narrowing as he placed a finger on his lips, signaling for Satoru to remain silent. Satoru's lips formed a pout as he shot a glare at Suguru, he crossed his arms on his chest and huffed angrily.
Meanwhile, Taiyohime picked up her chopsticks, eagerly preparing to indulge in the meal set before her, but she noticed that, [Name]'s expression soured slightly at her gesture, so she paused and questioned.
“You okay, [Name]-Chan—”
Taiyohime blinked when [Name] swiftly pushed Suguru's plate back to him and offered her own plate to her instead.
“Eh? [Name]-chan? What's wrong?”
Taiyohime inquired with curiosity and concern reflected in her eyes as she glanced at [Name], noting the slightly disgruntled expression on the latter's face—The same Expressiom she would wear on her countenance whenever she witnessed other children receiving things they desired, while she remained at home doing chores and other tasks.
“Hime Nee-san,” [Name] drawled in particularly sweet voice, as if trying to convince taiyohime.
“Huh? Yeah?”
“Have mine instead,”
Making eye contact with Suguru, [Name] mustered a small, forced smile to convey her feelings.
“You're our guest Geto-san, just enjoy the food ’n relax, kay?”
[Name] displayed a forced and strained smile, with her eyes twitching and her fists clenching slightly in evident frustration. Her expression turned sour as she recalled that it was Satoru who had prepared the particular dish before her. They do say appearances can be deceiving, and she suspected that the seemingly appetizing food before her was just a devil in disguise, and she's speaking from experiences. Satoru was skilled at many things, and can master everything, but cooking was not one of them, a fact that [Name] was well aware of.
Consequently, [Name] was resolute in her decision to avoid consuming any of Satoru's culinary creations. She then looked at suguru.
“Sorry Geto-San but you have to make a sacrifice on this” She mouthed, noticing the way Suguru's eyes widened slightly for a split second, meaning that he understood what she meant. He gave her a slight shake of his head and remained adamant, a tight-lipped smile aimed at her.
“No, no, it's fine, I don't mind, Senpai can have mine.” Suguru said, his eye twitching slightly.
“Hey, you guys, don't argue in front of the food” Taiyohime scolded but her words went ignored, much to her annoyance.
“Besides,” Suguru drawled, a charming smile on his lips, trying to convince [Name].
“Wouldn't it be ungentlemanly of me if i were to let a lady give her food up?” he entreated, his eyes conveying a wordless plea for her to acquiesce.
“Worry not, that wouldn't make you less gallant, Geto-san. ”
[Name] said with a calm smile as she closed her eyes contentedly, thinking that she was gonna win this argument.
“Ladies first, just as they say, ain't that right? That means that i must give her mine first.”
Suguru chuckled in response.
“But Ladies first is only applied when entering or exiting a room though,” he stated, his eyes narrowing slightly.
“Well, new rules can be added, can't they? Now ladies first applies to this one too.”
[Name]'s lips curled into a sardonic smile.
“I'm afraid it's not as simple as that,” Suguru responded with a small smile, leisurely tilting his head, his chin resting languidly on his entwined fingers. He couldn't help but notice the way she furrowed her brows in concentration, trying to come up with a witty response.
Soon enough, the two of them were engaged in a debate over who would have the honor of giving Taiyohime their food.
Each time Suguru would slide his plate towards Taiyohime, [Name] would insist on pushing it back towards him while simultaneously offering her own dish to Taiyohime instead. However, Suguru would pick up [Name]'s plate and slide it back in front of her. It seemed that they were both determined to avoid eating Satoru's questionable cooking by any means necessary.
“—C’mon Gojo. Give u already. Satoru will cry if we kept on arguing, y’don’t want that, do you?” Suguru asked, eyeing satoru who immediately shot a glare at him.
[Name] wracked her brain for a suitable retort, a glimmer of an idea appeared. Yet, the solution demanded she swallow her pride whole, a bitter pill to swallow, which was a difficult task indeed. Mustering her courage, she took a deep breath and turned to face Suguru, blush dusting her cheeks.
“You know, Geto-san.. you really should just let me give Hime nee-san the food... Because you're a guest and uh..”
”I.. i spilled hot water on you and caused you to get an.. and..” [Name] said, the words stumbling awkwardly from her lips, a wave of humiliation crashing over her. Despite the overwhelming embarrassment, she resolved to prioritize not eating satoru's cooking over her own dignity.
“So.. it's only fair for me to let you enjoy the food instead and not.. bother you, i guess?”
Suguru's eyes grew wide, his throat tightening and his muscles tensing up.
It felt like someone had punched the air out of his lungs, leaving him gawking. And in that moment, his calm and composed demeanor crumbled, he suddenly became still and silent, the smile fading from his lips. His gaze bore into [Name], his face turning red.
His hands rose to brush aside some stray bangs that had fallen over his eyes as he forced a shaky grin, a faint blush on his cheeks as he decided to let go of his pride for a moment, risking his dignity just to not eat satoru's cooking.
END OF FLASHBACK
[Name] was smiling like an idiot as she stared at her screen as she began typing her message.
You: Well, i suppose that we really do need to thank hime nee-san, she's such a hero after all.
Suguru Geto: Mhm, she is.
Suguru Geto: can't believe that she was fooled by the appearance though
You: Right? I feel bad for doing that to her though.. but hey.. can't blame a desperate girl, now, can you?
Suguru Geto: Mhm, perhaps. I hope that she's okay though.
Suguru Geto: by the way is ur brother still awake?
[Name] blinked in confusion, her wide eyes staring at Suguru's message on the screen. Her brows knit together slightly as she tried to make sense of the cryptic abbreviation “ur”.
Did suguru meant “urine”, “uracil” or something? The uncertainty in her mind left her feeling perplexed and slightly worried. She wondered if Suguru was asking about urine, pondering the bizarre question of whether her brother, Satoru, was having trouble urinating.
The thought made her uneasy, as she cared deeply for her sibling. Could Satoru be suffering from a urinary tract infection, despite having a healthy lifestyle? The idea of such a common ailment affecting someone as strong as Satoru seemed unlikely, but the concern lingered in [Name]'s mind.
Suddenly, a more alarming scenario crossed her thoughts—had Satoru's bladder burst, or had he regressed to a childhood habit of wetting the bed?
...If satoru's bladder exploded, that would mean that his urine would go all over his body and he would eventually die because his urine was inside of his body!
[Name] was horrified at her own interpretation.
Panic rising, [Name] sprung from her bed, practically throwing her phone and rushing towards Satoru's room, nearly stumbling in her urgency. She flung open the door, shivering as the cold metal brushed against her skin, and hurriedly sought out her brother. However, her panic escalated when she found Satoru's door locked, prompting her to frantically pound on it with her hands while calling out for him in a voice tinged with fear.
“SATORUUU”
“OPEN THE DOOR, YOU'RE GONNA DIE!’
After a fleeting moment, [Name] detected a shuffle and low grumbles emanating from beyond the door. Satoru finally flung the door open, his visage cloaked in weariness and a hint of annoyance.
“Who the hell..”
“Ah, ‘s that you, [Name]?..” Satoru croaked, his voice raspy and rough.
“Nii-chan! Your bladder exploded!” she exclaimed, her gaze fixated on Satoru's pallid complexion.
“What? My bladder... exploded?” Satoru faltered, his features a canvas of disbelief and revulsion at his sister's alarming pronouncement.
“Yes! Geto-san himself confirmed it!” [Name] exclaimed, unaware that there had been a miscommunication causing this confusion.
“Suguru confirmed it?!” Satoru's mind raced with the news. His thoughts were clouded, likely due to just waking up and being fed this ridiculous information by his sister. His brain felt like it was operating at only a fraction of its usual capacity.
“Yes, he did!” [Name] reiterated, maintaining their belief in the misinformation.
Satoru was now beyond horrified. The idea that his bladder had exploded was almost too much to bear. His mind quickly spiraled into a panic, imagining the consequences of such a terrifying scenario. Just like his sister had imagined, he started to fear that his own body would be overwhelmed by his urine, leading to his death.
“WHATTT?!! WILL MY PEE CIRCULATE OVER MY BODY NOW?!” Satoru despaired, while [Name] tacitly confirmed and nodded, as she teared up.
“OH MY GOD, [NAME], AM I GONNA DIE?!”
“SATORUUU! DON'T LEAVE ME”
Satoru grasped [Name]'s shoulders tightly as fat crocodile tears welled up in his azure eyes and his lips quivered.
“WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO NOW?!” Satoru wailed.
“YOU PROMISED ME THAT WE'RE GOING TO BE TOGETHER FOREVERRR!”
The two of them then began to panic about satoru dying, and it went like that for 10 minutes before [Name] took a deep breath, and just decided to take satoru to either suguru or taiyohime for help.
[Name] took a deep breath to calm herself down.
[Name] then wrapped her arms around his back and behind his knees. With a gentle strength, she lifted him up, cradling him close to her chest with care and concern.
“...‘Toru.. ‘m not gonna let you die.” [Name] proclaimed, satoru's face was pressed onto her chest, before Satoru lifted his head up and nestled his head on the nape of her neck instead.
“I got you,” [Name] said as she practically carried the man with ease, it was as if she never found him heavy just months ago.
—癖好—
Suguru stood alone on the balcony, the dark strands of his hair dancing in the breeze, a cigarette dangling between his lips as he gazed up at the night sky, awaiting a response from [Name].
His eyes lingered on the moon for a moment, then he glanced down at his phone, disappointment creeping in as he realized that she still hadn't messaged him back. Maybe she had dozed off? Suguru couldn't blame her, since he had told her to keep talking to him until she fell asleep.
Though, Admittedly, he found her idiosyncrasies intriguing. She struck him as the type who was into science, it was weird and all, yet she had a certain charm about her. She was different, in a good way.
Comparing her to Satoru, who was already quite weird, just made her stand out even more. Despite her weirdness, Suguru found her ability to engage in debates impressive and imagined she would be a fun person to be around. Although her mood swings were a bit unpredictable, ranging from bashful to witty to chill, he couldn't help but be amused by her ever-changing demeanor.
Leaning against the railing, Suguru held his cigarette between his index and middle fingers, taking a drag and releasing a puff of smoke, all the while contemplating the idiosyncratic girl.
Out of nowhere, Suguru's ears picked up the unmistakable sound of someone knocking on his door. Curious and slightly puzzled, he cocked his head to listen intently to identify the visitor. It was late hour right now, so getting a visitor this time was weird.
With a weary sigh, Suguru raised his hand to massage the tense muscles on the nape of his neck, before carefully extinguishing his cigarette on the balcony railing. After a momentary stretch and a heartfelt yawn, he made his way to the door, unsure of what or who awaited on the other side.
As he swung the door open, his eyes widened in disbelief at the scene that greeted him.
[Name] had a determined look on her face as she held Satoru in a bridal embrace while satoru clings on her like there's no tomorrow. Both of them had tears streaming down their faces.
What the fuck.
Suguru gawked.
EXTRA:
—Shoko heard satoru and [Name] crying on tge other room and was pissed.
—Satoru pissed the bed.
—Taiyohime had to go to a doctor.
—Taiyohime is mad at [Name] and Suguru.
—Suguru got a stomach ache from eating just a crumb of the food satoru prepared.
—The sword can also transform into a shikigami
—The sword was known to eat it's previous owners and Taiyohime was just one of the people who it didn't ate.
—Suguru didn't agree on training [Name], unfortunately.
—Taiyohime, may, or may have not fed the sword another certain gojo that harassed her.
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"It's Cold Without You"
Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x reader
Word Count: 2,452
Summary: A perfect description of your psyche while your husband is gone, would be the color blue. When he leaves, he takes the warmth with him, dragging the color orange behind himself, only bringing it and the sunrise upon his return.
Warning(s): Angst and descriptive thoughts of anxiety and death
A/N: It's a little abrupt, but I really wanted to post something. And I also wanted to express a specific energy (my requests r still open)
I am an 18+ Blog.
The house is cold. Maybe it's the slow approach of Winter, or the fact that the heater was busted and you refused to call someone to fix it. But the house wasn't as warm as it usually was. You stopped using the lamps with yellow bulbs, instead opting for either the blinding overhead light, or no light at all. The curtains were perpetually drawn, closing your bedroom off from the world outside, closing you off from the world outside.
Everyday is the same thing on repeat, go to work only to return home. But no matter where you are, you're always miserable. When you're at work you want nothing more than to be at home, wrapped in a blanket of silence and warmth. Though, when you're at your house, you feel lonelier than ever, longing for the human connection of your job and coworkers.
It isn't always like this, the chill in the air. The chill that settles so deeply within your bones your teeth chatter, it isn't typically present. And you know why it's here, but admitting it feels colder than the wind that hits you harshly when you walk outside. Saying it out loud, or even thinking about it for too long makes you feel... shitty, for lack of a better word to describe yourself in your head.
You don't tell him the problems you're having. You especially would never tell him why you are having these issues. Because you know him, inside and out, and you know he'll feel guilty. But you also know yourself well enough to be aware of the fact he knows you just the same. He would so easily see through the facade you have created, look through the walls you've built up as if they were a window pane. This is why you've been dodging his calls, and why he currently thinks you are sick with the flu.
You simply wait, counting the days until he's home, begging time will move faster. And while you lay in bed alone, ponder on the idea that perhaps you're wasting your life. You know it's pathetic, the fact your existence is dependent on the presence of your husband. And you feel horrible, the codependency clawing its way up your throat. It's even worse when you remember you haven't always felt this way, and you don't know what's changed. You don't know why you can't seem to act like yourself when he's gone.
Well, perhaps you do know. You just don't want to admit it. You don't want to admit that you're terrified. You don't want to admit that every time he comes home complaining of a new ailment due to a painful ejection, you get nervous. That every call from one of his superiors, or even one of his colleagues, you have a shock of terror that has your heart beating out of your chest. That you only ever feel comfortable knowing he's alive when he's next to you.
When he's home, it's different. He doesn't realize he does it, but he chases the chill away. The nervousness that wraps itself around your ribs, squeezing until your heart constricts, it lessens. You find yourself distracted by the feeling of his hands on your hips, the pressure of his kisses against your skull, that it all disappears for a moment. But you know, as your ear presses against his chest at night, listening to him breathe, that the problem is still present.
"How do you feel about kids?" He asks one day, standing behind you as you analyze the paint samples for the bathroom after it's remodeling.
And your heart sinks, because you don't know. You don't know if you'd be able to handle a baby with him, let alone when he leaves. How would you be able to calm a crying baby when you consider yourself one when he's gone?
How would you be able to handle his death...?
You think about it a lot. The idea that he will fall to his demise the same way his father did, leaving the same trauma his dad left him, on the child you two have. But you don't know if you're as strong as Carole Bradshaw. You never considered yourself a weak person, but that's what he does. Bradley makes you weak, and you don't know if you'd survive his death. If you'd be able to go on with your life, go back to normal. You don't know if you'd be able to handle your own grief, not to mention teaching your child how to do so.
You don't give him an answer that day, and he lets it go. He's good at that; letting go. It was always something you admired about him, his ability to let things slide over him, continuing on easily. The only exception he had ever displayed, was his attitude towards Pete Mitchel, never letting that go. And you can't help but wonder if you'd do the same thing to your child. Would you hold them back? Perhaps beg Jake Seresin to pull your own sons papers because you'd be so blinded by the grief for Bradley, that you'd stop your own child from achieving his dream as well.
Today is a day like any other, the calendar is marked with a bright red heart exactly six days from now. You tell yourself the house will be clean three days prior to his arrival, and the Bronco will be washed the day before, and you will be presentable the day of. But for now, you hide within the comforter that his smell still lingers on. You've taken the week off, avoiding your job with a simple call that ends with a cough you and your manager know is fake.
Bradley is never early. He's a punctual man. He's never late either. He has a talent of showing up to things at the exact time as expected. And you adore this about him, because you're never nervous about when he'll show up. After ten years together, why would you ever think that would change?
He notices the house is darker and colder than normal. He softly drops his duffel by the door, removing his boots slowly before treading towards the lamp in the living room. And the home looks eerily different. He knows you're sick right now, but he questions the extent of it as he takes in the mess.
Almost all of the dishes are piled in the sink, definitely not the amount someone who has been sick for a little over a week would use in that time. His eyes move from the dishes to the rest of the counter, where mail is scattered. He removes himself from the room, drifting into the laundry room where what can only be your entire wardrobe laying haphazardly in front of the washing machine.
It's not that Bradley ever expected you to be the sole proprietor of the household chores, typically every task being traded between the two of you. But this was clearly out of character for you. He always came home to a spotless house, something he dearly appreciated. Internally he wonders if it's his fault, for coming home too early, but he can't help but be concerned.
His chest constricts when he walks into your shared bedroom to find you, curled into the fetal position sleeping. You look exhausted, even though you're sleeping. For a moment he forgets all about the fact that his back hurts, or the fact he's been wanting to sleep in his own bed for almost two months. All he can think of is you.
"Baby," He whispers, a hand softly against your shoulder. "Honey?"
You awake with a sharp intake of breath, heart beating out of your chest in a panic. Realizing it is your husband and not in fact a murderer, does little to quell your anxieties.
"Bradley?" You blurt, springing up. "What are you doing here? It's not the twelfth is it?" You go to reach for your phone, frustration leaking through your voice. "What are you doing home?"
"I came home early," He exhales, brows knitted in concern as you rush around the room. You're clearly distressed, pacing before you finally stop and run your hands down your face.
"Why?" You dare to ask, voice warbling against your will. "Why are you home early?"
"You sounded like you were really sick, and it was only six days-" He clenches his eyes shut before looking at you with his sad eyes. "What's wrong?"
"You aren't supposed to be home yet." You whisper, crossing your arms. Your face crumbles as you remember the state of the house, the state of yourself.
"Baby if you've been sick longer than you told me, we can go to the hospital," He stands up, stepping towards you. "Something can really be wrong-"
"You're not supposed to be home," You repeat, turning it into a mantra under your breath as you cover your eyes. You can feel the slow burn as tears erupt from your eyes, strong emotions wrapping themselves around you like an octopus around a crab. Faintly, you can feel Bradley's hands touch your shoulders, and the way he rubs up and down doesn't feel the way it normally does. His touch burns your skin, itchy and irritating in a way that makes you want to cry harder.
"Will you let me take you to the doctor?"
"Will you shut up about the hospital?" You hiss, your frustration coming to head as you explode. His hands pull away as you look at him with such venom on your tongue, you can taste it. "God! Why are you home?"
His face twists in confusion, then to his own form of irritation matching yours. He doesn't understand, and typically you'd feel bad because it isn't his fault. But he wasn't supposed to be home yet.
"I don't understand." His mouth is slightly agape as he exhales. "I thought you were sick, you weren't answering my calls, you haven't been to work in two weeks-"
"You called my job?"
"I was worried!" He shouts, and you feel itchy again. "I was worried about you! And evidently I needed to be because the house is a mess-"
This strikes a chord within you. The house is yours. Bradley and you share ownership of it, you bought it together, decorated it together, but it's your domain. Every detail is finalized by you, from the color of the floors to the oven you own. It's yours. And it hurts that he points out how you've mistreated it. It hurts on a deeper level that he thinks this. No matter how much you know it's true.
"Don't you dare talk to me about my house." You can hold yourself back, snapping back at him.
"It's a fucking mess!" He points out, and you know. You know it's true. "It's never like this so clearly something is wrong and I'm worried about you!" You don't know what to do, because you had everything planned out, you knew when things were going to be put back-
And he's home early.
You prided yourself on being able to hide this part of your life from him. Being able to disguise your pain behind a mask of stability, pretending nothing had changed. That you hadn't changed. But now that's all gone. He's taken a peak behind the curtain and now the entire illusion falls apart, like ashes between your fingers.
"I just want you to tell me what's wrong." His voice is lower now, and he knows you're avoiding eye contact. "You've been pulling away, and I'm worried."
You can't bring yourself to lift your eyes from the floor to his face, where you know his eyes are bright regardless of the hurt that paints them.
"Is it me?" He asks, bending slightly to try and put his eyes in your line of sight. "Do you not want me anymore? Us?"
"No-" You can see his heart break in his eyes as you look up. "It's not that. No, Bradley, it's not that." You step closer, harshly laughing at yourself. "It's the opposite."
"I don't understand, honey."
"I love you." You whisper, feeling warmer now as his hands slide to your hips. "I love you so much, there's no one else in the world I'd even consider replacing you with. And I can't imagine my life without you."
He watches you apprehensively, eyes darting to your hands and back up to your eyes.
"I'm scared." You finally let it slip, soft like a prayer, quiet like a secret. He tilts his head slightly, practically begging you to elaborate. "I'm scared, when you leave the house for work in the morning. I'm scared when you go on missions-" your voice cracks harshly. "My heart drops every time Mav calls me instead of you, and when someone knocks on the door."
"I don't..."
"I'm scared that you're going to die soon." You blurt, not missing the way his eyes widen.
"Baby, I'm not going to die-"
"Do you think Goose told Carole that?" You ask, knowing you're crossing a line. Tears blur your vision. "You can't tell me you aren't going to die because you are, and there's nothing I can do to stop it-"
The hug is abrupt, your face being pushed into his neck and your bodies close. You feel nothing other than Bradley, and you can't even bring yourself to apologize as your hot tears drip onto his skin and inevitably his shirt. Your fingers tighten around his back, desperate to have him closer because you don't think he'll ever be close enough unless you're beneath his skin.
You know this conversation isn't done, it's not tied neatly with a bow on top. You know there's an entire can of worms that inevitably will be opened. But for a moment you feel warm again. Heat bubbles beneath your skin, rumbling through your chest as you feel his heart beating against your chest. Reds and oranges fly behind your eyelids in a way that has you breathing easier.
As he silently pulls the both of you to the bed, he hugs you a bit tighter. The smell of him surrounds you in a thick layer, your skin buzzing beneath the feeling of his lips against your forehead. You whine as he pulls away, tucking you in like you're a child.
"We're not done talking about this." He whispers, looking down at you with his sorrowful eyes. "Not even close to being done talking about this."
"Okay," You say softly back, agreeing.
"But you should get some sleep," He advises with a crooked smile. "I'll be here when you wake up."
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