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The first time Kento Nanami walked into your bakery, it was because of a child.
Specifically, because said child had stared at the display case through the window like his soul was leaving his body.
“Nanamin” Yuji said dramatically, palms pressed against the glass, “pleaseee.”
Nanami adjusted the grocery bags digging into his palms.
“It’s seven in the evening.”
“And?”
“You already had dessert.”
“That was forever ago.”
“You’re ten.”
“I’m a growing boy.”
Nanami sighed heavily through his nose. Fostering Yuji Itadori had taught him many things in the past six months. Children were loud. Children ate alarming amounts of food. And apparently children could look so hopeful over pastries that even Nanami found it difficult to refuse.
“You can get one thing,” he said finally.
Yuji gasped like he’d just been granted a dying wish.
“You’re the best dad ever.”
“I’m not your dad.”
“You bought me new sneakers yesterday.”
“Because yours had holes in them.”
“Exactly.”
Before Nanami could respond, Yuji was already dragging the bakery door open. Warmth hit them immediately. Soft lights glowed against the windows while the smell of fresh bread and espresso wrapped through the small shop.
Then Nanami heard shouting.
“This coffee tastes burnt.”
A man stood at the counter glaring at you while you held the cup carefully in both hands.
“I’m really sorry, sir.” You said patiently. “I can remake it lighter for you if you’d prefer?”
“I asked for dark coffee.”
“Yes, sir, but dark roast naturally has a stronger bitterness—”
“So you admit it tastes bad?”
Yuji frowned instantly beside Nanami.
“That guy sucks,” he whispered loudly.
Nanami silently agreed. You still tried to stay polite despite the customer’s increasingly irritated tone. Nanami noticed the way your smile strained slightly around the edges. The exhaustion beneath your patience. And still, you kept trying.
“I can also refund you if that would help,” you offered gently.
“I want your manager.”
You hesitated briefly.
“I actually own the bakery so—”
“Then maybe you should learn how to make coffee properly.”
“She already offered you several reasonable solutions.”
The man turned sharply. Nanami stood near the entrance, grocery bags still in one hand while Yuji peeked out from behind him curiously.
“You asked for dark coffee” Nanami continued flatly. “You received dark coffee. Berating her because you dislike your own order is irrational.”
The bakery quieted.
The man scoffed. “Mind your business.”
“You made it everyone’s business once you started yelling.”
Yuji nodded enthusiastically beside him.
“Yeah.”
The man looked around at the uncomfortable stares from other customers before muttering angrily under his breath and storming out. The bell above the door rattled violently behind him. Silence lingered. Then the bakery slowly relaxed again. You exhaled softly.
“Thank you.”
Nanami shrugged once. “He was being unreasonable.”
Yuji immediately stepped forward.
“You stayed nice to that mean guy even after he yelled at you. That was so cool”
You blinked. Then smiled warmly at him.
“Well thank you, sweetheart.”
Nanami noticed your expression soften instantly around children. Something about that lodged itself annoyingly in his chest. Yuji wandered immediately toward the display case.
“Oh my god.”
“You may pick one,” Nanami reminded him.
“One?” Yuji looked personally betrayed. “Nanamin look at this place.”
You laughed quietly.
“I like him already.”
“He’s dramatic.”
“Actually my teacher told me that i’m passionate.” Yuji corrected seriously.
You leaned slightly over the counter toward him conspiratorially.
“I love that.”
Yuji beamed at you instantly. Nanami already sensed this was going to become a problem.
“What can I get for you two?” You asked.
Yuji pointed rapidly.
“That strawberry one. And that chocolate thing. Wait no—”
“One thing,” Nanami repeated.
Yuji groaned. You tried unsuccessfully to hide your smile.
“What about for you?” You asked Nanami.
“Black coffee.”
You stared at him for a moment.
“Wow.”
“…What?”
“Just predictable.”
“I work in finance.”
“That explains everything.”
Yuji burst into laughter.
Nanami looked mildly offended. You moved around behind the counter preparing the coffee while Yuji pressed both hands against the display glass dramatically. Nanami found himself watching you instead. You hummed quietly while working. Not loudly—just soft little absentminded hums under your breath as you moved between trays and machines. It was strangely calming. There was a streak of flour on your cheek. You clearly hadn’t noticed. You glanced up suddenly and caught him staring.
“What?”
“There’s flour on your face.”
Your hand immediately went to the wrong side.
“The other side.”
You wiped again.
“Still there.”
You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. “Are you messing with me?”
Yuji leaned over the counter.
“No, it’s actually there.”
“Oh my god.”
You laughed at yourself while trying again unsuccessfully. Nanami stepped forward before really thinking about it. His fingers brushed lightly against your cheek as he wiped the flour away carefully with his thumb. The movement was brief. Gentle. Your breath caught slightly. So did his.
Yuji looked between both of you immediately with the sharp instincts only children possessed.
“Hmm,” he hums quietly.
Nanami stepped back.
“There.”
You blinked once before smiling softly.
“Thanks.”
Nanami cleared his throat. Yuji grinned like he’d just discovered a big secret. A few minutes later you handed over the order.
“That’ll be free today.”
Nanami frowned immediately. “That’s unnecessary.”
“I’m rewarding good behavior.”
“You’re rewarding public confrontation.”
You leaned against the counter slightly.
“I’m rewarding someone for defending me.”
Then you crouched slightly to Yuji’s level.
“And for bringing in your adorable kid.”
“I’m not adorable,” Yuji informed you seriously.
“You definitely are.”
Yuji immediately looked pleased. Nanami already knew he was losing this battle.
ii.
They came back three days later. Then again the next week. Then suddenly it became routine. At first Nanami told himself it was because Yuji liked the pastries. Which was true. Dangerously true. Every afternoon after school, Yuji practically dragged Nanami through the bakery doors.
“The usual?” You asked brightly one afternoon.
Yuji pointed immediately. “The custard one!”
“And for Mr. Serious?”
“Black coffee.”
You sighed dramatically. “One day I’m getting you sugar.”
“One day you’ll stop trying.”
“Never.”
Yuji leaned toward you while Nanami paid.
“He actually likes sweet stuff.”
Nanami looked down immediately. “Yuji.”
“What? You ate my pancakes.”
“You left them unattended.”
“That's robbery.”
You laughed so hard you nearly dropped the pastry bag. Nanami felt something warm settle while hearing it.
Eventually, you started setting aside extra sweets “by accident.”
“This got slightly overbaked.”
“It’s perfectly fine,” Nanami said.
“Guess Yuji will have to eat it then.”
“Oh no,” Yuji said sarcastically while accepting the pastry immediately.
Another day
“I made too many cream buns.”
“You absolutely did not,” Nanami replied.
You ignored him completely while sliding the box toward Yuji. Nanami noticed the way you always packed an extra one specifically for him too. You never said anything about it. But you always did.
Slowly and terrifyingly, the bakery stopped feeling like just a bakery. It became routine. Warmth. Even something to look forward to. Yuji doing homework at the corner table while you baked. Nanami sitting nearby with loosened sleeves after work while you hummed quietly in the kitchen. Sometimes Yuji would fall asleep against Nanami’s arm after too many sweets. Sometimes Nanami caught himself staring at you longer than he should. Watching flour dust your face and clothes while you worked. Watching the way you smiled at Yuji like he was easy to look after. Watching the way you smiled at him softer.
One evening after closing, Yuji slept curled up across two chairs near the window, hoodie half slipping off his shoulder. Rain tapped gently outside. You stood behind the counter kneading dough while humming again. Nanami watched silently.
“You’re staring,” you murmured without looking up.
“You have flour all over your hair.”
You sighed dramatically. “Maybe i did it on purpose”
A faint smile pulled briefly at Nanami’s mouth.
You caught it instantly.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“You smiled.”
“I’m not smiling.”
“You totally are.”
You walked closer, stopping across from him. For a moment neither of you spoke. The bakery lights glowed warm around you while rain softened against the windows. Then quietly, you asked—
“Why do you keep coming back here, Nanami?”
The honest answer terrified him a little. Because somewhere along the way, this place had started feeling more like home than his little apartment did. Because Yuji laughed more here. Because you looked at both of them like you genuinely wanted them around. Because after years of exhaustion and numb routine, Nanami had somehow stumbled into warmth again. His eyes drifted toward sleeping Yuji briefly. Then back to you.
“You’re good to him,” he said softly.
Your expression gentled immediately.
“He’s easy to care about.”
“Yes” Nanami replied quietly. “He is.”
Then after a pause-
“So are you.”
iii.
Yuji became part of your bakery routine embarrassingly fast. By the third week, you already had his favorite pastry waiting whenever the bell above the door chimed.
“Custard?” you’d ask.
“Yes please.”
“And vegetables later?”
Yuji groaned dramatically every single time. Nanami found himself watching the exchange from behind him more often than he should. Watching the way you leaned against the counter while talking to Yuji like he was important. Like he wasn’t a burden. Like caring for him was second nature to you. It did something strange to Nanami’s chest every time. Especially because fostering Yuji hadn’t been easy. Nothing about it had been easy.
At first, Nanami had told himself it was temporary. A few weeks at most. Just until paperwork got sorted out. Just until someone else stepped in. But then Yuji started leaving his shoes by the front door. Started falling asleep on the couch waiting for Nanami to get home from work. Started looking up every evening the second he heard keys in the lock. And somewhere between grocery lists and school forms and making sure there was enough food in the apartment, Nanami stopped feeling like he was just “helping.”
It scared him a little. Because attachment meant loss eventually. Nanami knew that better than most. Yet every afternoon despite himself, he found his feet carrying him toward your bakery. Toward warmth. Toward soft music and the smell of fresh bread and your quiet humming from behind the counter. Toward you.
One particularly exhausting evening, Nanami arrived nearly an hour later than usual. His shoulders ached. His tie felt suffocating. And he’d spent the last twelve hours dealing with people he was becoming convinced lacked functional brains. The bell chimed softly when he entered. Yuji looked up from his homework immediately.
“Nanamin!”
You glanced over from behind the register too. Your expression softened instantly.
“You look awful.”
“Thank you.”
“I mean more than usual.”
Yuji nodded seriously. “You’ve got the scary eye bags today.”
Nanami sighed heavily.
“I’m surrounded by bullies.”
You laughed quietly under your breath.
God. That sound was becoming dangerous for him. It had him imagining a future-which isn’t something he does often. He loosened his tie slightly before sitting beside Yuji at the corner table. Without asking, you appeared a minute later with a coffee and a plate holding a small slice of strawberry shortcake. Nanami frowned immediately.
“I didn’t order this.”
“You looked like you got beat up by your paperwork.”
“That’s not possible.”
“It should be.”
You slid the plate closer anyway. Nanami stared at the cake.
“…I don’t really eat sweets.”
Yuji looked at him like he’d admitted to a crime.
“That’s crazy.”
“You’re both judging me now?”
“Yes” you and Yuji answered simultaneously.
You blinked. Then both of you burst into laughter. Nanami felt warmth bloom unexpectedly in his chest at the sound. The scene felt so domestic it almost unnerved him. Yuji doing homework. You dusting flour from your hands nearby. Coffee growing cold beside him while rain tapped softly against the windows outside. It felt peaceful. Dangerously peaceful. The kind of peace that made a person forget to keep their guard up. Nanami took one bite of the cake mostly to stop Yuji from staring at him like a disappointed puppy. Then paused. You looked entirely too pleased with yourself.
“…Good?”
“It’s acceptable.”
“That means yes” you told Yuji knowingly.
Yuji grinned triumphantly.
“Get him another one.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
You slid another pastry onto the plate anyway. Nanami realized with growing horror that the two of you had started teaming up against him regularly.
iv.
Another afternoon, Nanami arrived to find Yuji behind the counter wearing one of your spare aprons. Flour coated nearly every visible surface. Including Yuji himself.
Nanami stopped in the doorway.
“…What happened?”
Yuji looked delighted.
“We’re making bread.”
“You’re making a mess.”
“I’m helping.”
You stood nearby laughing while trying to move your hair off your cheek with the back of your wrist.
“It was my idea” you admitted. “In my defense, he was very persuasive.”
Yuji held up a lopsided piece of dough proudly.
Nanami stared at it.
“It looks diseased.”
“It’s a turtle!”
“No, it looks more like a tortoise.”
You laughed so hard you had to lean against the counter. Nanami’s gaze drifted toward you automatically. There was jelly all over your apron. A bit near your jaw this time too. You started humming absentmindedly again while reshaping dough on the counter. Soft. Mindless. Comfortable. Nanami didn’t realize he’d been staring until Yuji suddenly grinned.
“You’re doing the thing again.”
Nanami looked down immediately. “What thing?”
“The staring thing.”
“I’m not staring.”
“You so are.”
You blinked between them curiously. Yuji pointed directly at Nanami.
“He looks at you like you’re the sun.”
Silence.
Nanami felt his soul briefly leave his body.
“Yuji” he said flatly.
“What?”
You looked equally caught off guard. Then slowly—very slowly a smile spread across your face. Nanami immediately reached for the bridge of his nose.
“This is why children shouldn’t speak.”
Yuji looked deeply offended.
“You’re just embarrassed because I’m right.”
“You are not right.”
“You brought her flowers last week.”
“They were leftover from a client meeting.”
“You hate flowers.”
Nanami opened his mouth.
Closed it.
You were trying very hard not to laugh now.
“I was wondering about that” you admitted softly.
Nanami looked at you. Your expression had gentled completely.
Warm.
Something shifted quietly in the air. Yuji looked between both of you before dramatically gasping.
“Oh my god.”
“Yuji.”
“You guys are in love.”
“We are not,” Nanami answered immediately.
Too quickly. Your eyebrows lifted.
“Not even a little?”
Nanami looked at you across the counter.
Jelly on your face. Warm light catching in your eyes. That familiar soft humming under your breath while you smiled at him like he was someone worth waiting for. Then his gaze drifted briefly toward Yuji happily ruining dough beside you. Toward the life he somehow kept finding himself pulled back into every day. Something tender twisted in his chest. Because the truth was horrifyingly simple. He was already attached. To both of you. Completely. And Kento Nanami had never done anything halfway. Yuji narrowed his eyes knowingly.
“You’re making the face again.”
“What face?”
“The one where you look like you wanna say something nice”
Nanami stood slowly.
“I’m leaving.”
“You literally just got here,” you laughed.
Yuji pointed dramatically.
“See? He’s running away!”
Nanami picked up a dish towel and threw it directly at him. Yuji dodged it while laughing loudly. And for the first time in years, Nanami realized something terrifying. When he pictured home now—He no longer pictured an apartment. He pictured this bakery instead.
When he finally told you how he felt It wasn’t dramatic. That was probably the strangest part. No huge confession in the rain. No dramatic realization.
No moment where one of you suddenly blurted out I’m in love with you. It happened so slowly and so naturally that by the time either of you realized what this was becoming, it already felt inevitable.
It started with little things. Nanami staying later after closing. At first he’d only linger long enough for Yuji to finish homework at the corner table. Then somehow he started helping stack chairs. Wiping counters. Carrying flour bags into the back room before you could ask.
“You don’t work here” you told him one night.
“You were lifting improperly.”
“That’s not a thing.”
But he kept doing it anyway.
And you kept pretending not to notice how tired he looked after twelve-hour shifts. So instead, you started leaving food beside him while he helped clean. Nothing fancy. Just—
“Eat this.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“That wasn’t a question.”
Nanami learned quickly that you were strangely scary when concerned.
Then came habits. Dangerous little habits. You texting him when Yuji forgot his lunch at school because somehow you were now his emergency contact too. Nanami walking you to your station after late supply runs because “it’s unsafe this late.” You falling asleep briefly against his shoulder one night after closing while waiting for the last train. Neither of you mentioning it afterward. Except after that Nanami started standing slightly closer to you naturally. Like his body had quietly decided something before his mind caught up.
The actual moment things changed happened on an ordinary Tuesday. Which felt fitting. The bakery had closed early because of heavy snow. Yuji was at a sleepover for the first time in weeks after begging Nanami relentlessly to let him go. So for the first time in months It was just the two of you.
The bakery was quiet. Soft jazz played from the old speaker near the kitchen while snow drifted outside the windows in slow white sheets. You stood near the counter boxing leftover pastries while humming the song softly under your breath. Nanami sat at his usual table loosening his tie slightly after work. He was watching you again. He did that often now. The weird thing was he’d stopped trying not to.
“You’re staring,” you murmured without looking up.
“You have flour on your cheek.”
You laughed quietly.
“At this point I think it lives there.”
Nanami stood before really thinking about it. You looked up as he walked over. There was flour near your jaw again. And without hesitation now, without awkwardness—he brushed it away gently with his thumb. But this time neither of you moved afterward. Your eyes stayed on his. Warm bakery lights. Snow outside. Your breath caught slightly. And Nanami realized something terrifying--these past few months had been the first taste of normalcy he’d ever allowed himself to have. This felt natural. Not overwhelming. Not frightening. Just… right.
You smiled first. Soft and sleepy and fond.
“You know,” you said quietly, “you touch me like you already know you’re allowed to.”
Nanami went still. You were right. Somewhere along the way, you’d become part of him so naturally that he’d stopped questioning whether he could reach for you. Stopped questioning whether you’d pull away. His hand was still resting lightly against your cheek.
“You never seem upset when I do,” he admitted quietly.
Your expression softened immediately.
“I’m never upset when it’s you.”
God. You said things so gently sometimes it completely ruined him. The bakery suddenly felt very small. Very warm. Very dangerous. Nanami exhaled softly through his nose.
“You should be more careful saying things like that.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m trying very hard to behave appropriately.”
You blinked once. Then laughed softly under your breath.
“Kento.”
The use of his first name nearly killed him on the spot. You noticed immediately too because your smile faltered into something softer. More vulnerable. And then very carefully, you stepped closer. Not enough to touch fully. Just enough that Nanami could feel your warmth.
“You know,” you murmured, “most people would’ve figured out we liked each other months ago.”
“I was aware.”
“You were?”
“I was choosing to ignore it.”
You smiled. “Why?”
Nanami looked at you quietly for a long moment. Then finally answered honestly.
“Because the last time I cared about people this much, I lost them.”
The words settled heavily between you. You looked at him with that same gentle expression that always made him feel painfully seen. Then you reached up carefully and straightened his loosened tie. A tiny habit you’d developed recently.
“You know what I think?” you asked softly.
“What?”
“I think you’ve spent so long preparing yourself for loss that you forgot some things are worth keeping anyway.”
Nanami felt his stomach churn. Because you said it so simply. Like loving someone wasn’t terrifying. Like staying wasn’t terrifying. Your fingers lingered briefly against his tie. Neither of you moved.
Then quietly—very quietly. Nanami leaned down and kissed you. Slow. Careful. Like he was still giving you time to change your mind. You kissed him back immediately. Warm hands sliding lightly against his sleeves while he held you gently like something precious. And suddenly Nanami understood why people wrote poetry. Because nothing in his life had ever felt this soft before. When you finally pulled apart, both of you stayed close enough that your foreheads nearly touched. You smiled first again.
“You know,” you whispered “that was way less stiff and robotic than I expected.”
Nanami closed his eyes briefly.
“Oh my god.”
You laughed softly against him.
And then, because apparently the universe enjoyed humiliating him, the bakery door burst open.
“Guys, I forgot my—” Yuji froze mid-sentence.
Silence.
You immediately stepped back, startled. Nanami looked exhausted instantly. Yuji stared between both of you slowly.
The first time Kento Nanami walked into your bakery, it was because of a child.
Specifically, because said child had stared at the display case through the window like his soul was leaving his body.
“Nanamin” Yuji said dramatically, palms pressed against the glass, “pleaseee.”
Nanami adjusted the grocery bags digging into his palms.
“It’s seven in the evening.”
“And?”
“You already had dessert.”
“That was forever ago.”
“You’re ten.”
“I’m a growing boy.”
Nanami sighed heavily through his nose. Fostering Yuji Itadori had taught him many things in the past six months. Children were loud. Children ate alarming amounts of food. And apparently children could look so hopeful over pastries that even Nanami found it difficult to refuse.
“You can get one thing,” he said finally.
Yuji gasped like he’d just been granted a dying wish.
“You’re the best dad ever.”
“I’m not your dad.”
“You bought me new sneakers yesterday.”
“Because yours had holes in them.”
“Exactly.”
Before Nanami could respond, Yuji was already dragging the bakery door open. Warmth hit them immediately. Soft lights glowed against the windows while the smell of fresh bread and espresso wrapped through the small shop.
Then Nanami heard shouting.
“This coffee tastes burnt.”
A man stood at the counter glaring at you while you held the cup carefully in both hands.
“I’m really sorry, sir.” You said patiently. “I can remake it lighter for you if you’d prefer?”
“I asked for dark coffee.”
“Yes, sir, but dark roast naturally has a stronger bitterness—”
“So you admit it tastes bad?”
Yuji frowned instantly beside Nanami.
“That guy sucks,” he whispered loudly.
Nanami silently agreed. You still tried to stay polite despite the customer’s increasingly irritated tone. Nanami noticed the way your smile strained slightly around the edges. The exhaustion beneath your patience. And still, you kept trying.
“I can also refund you if that would help,” you offered gently.
“I want your manager.”
You hesitated briefly.
“I actually own the bakery so—”
“Then maybe you should learn how to make coffee properly.”
“She already offered you several reasonable solutions.”
The man turned sharply. Nanami stood near the entrance, grocery bags still in one hand while Yuji peeked out from behind him curiously.
“You asked for dark coffee” Nanami continued flatly. “You received dark coffee. Berating her because you dislike your own order is irrational.”
The bakery quieted.
The man scoffed. “Mind your business.”
“You made it everyone’s business once you started yelling.”
Yuji nodded enthusiastically beside him.
“Yeah.”
The man looked around at the uncomfortable stares from other customers before muttering angrily under his breath and storming out. The bell above the door rattled violently behind him. Silence lingered. Then the bakery slowly relaxed again. You exhaled softly.
“Thank you.”
Nanami shrugged once. “He was being unreasonable.”
Yuji immediately stepped forward.
“You stayed nice to that mean guy even after he yelled at you. That was so cool”
You blinked. Then smiled warmly at him.
“Well thank you, sweetheart.”
Nanami noticed your expression soften instantly around children. Something about that lodged itself annoyingly in his chest. Yuji wandered immediately toward the display case.
“Oh my god.”
“You may pick one,” Nanami reminded him.
“One?” Yuji looked personally betrayed. “Nanamin look at this place.”
You laughed quietly.
“I like him already.”
“He’s dramatic.”
“Actually my teacher told me that i’m passionate.” Yuji corrected seriously.
You leaned slightly over the counter toward him conspiratorially.
“I love that.”
Yuji beamed at you instantly. Nanami already sensed this was going to become a problem.
“What can I get for you two?” You asked.
Yuji pointed rapidly.
“That strawberry one. And that chocolate thing. Wait no—”
“One thing,” Nanami repeated.
Yuji groaned. You tried unsuccessfully to hide your smile.
“What about for you?” You asked Nanami.
“Black coffee.”
You stared at him for a moment.
“Wow.”
“…What?”
“Just predictable.”
“I work in finance.”
“That explains everything.”
Yuji burst into laughter.
Nanami looked mildly offended. You moved around behind the counter preparing the coffee while Yuji pressed both hands against the display glass dramatically. Nanami found himself watching you instead. You hummed quietly while working. Not loudly—just soft little absentminded hums under your breath as you moved between trays and machines. It was strangely calming. There was a streak of flour on your cheek. You clearly hadn’t noticed. You glanced up suddenly and caught him staring.
“What?”
“There’s flour on your face.”
Your hand immediately went to the wrong side.
“The other side.”
You wiped again.
“Still there.”
You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. “Are you messing with me?”
Yuji leaned over the counter.
“No, it’s actually there.”
“Oh my god.”
You laughed at yourself while trying again unsuccessfully. Nanami stepped forward before really thinking about it. His fingers brushed lightly against your cheek as he wiped the flour away carefully with his thumb. The movement was brief. Gentle. Your breath caught slightly. So did his.
Yuji looked between both of you immediately with the sharp instincts only children possessed.
“Hmm,” he hums quietly.
Nanami stepped back.
“There.”
You blinked once before smiling softly.
“Thanks.”
Nanami cleared his throat. Yuji grinned like he’d just discovered a big secret. A few minutes later you handed over the order.
“That’ll be free today.”
Nanami frowned immediately. “That’s unnecessary.”
“I’m rewarding good behavior.”
“You’re rewarding public confrontation.”
You leaned against the counter slightly.
“I’m rewarding someone for defending me.”
Then you crouched slightly to Yuji’s level.
“And for bringing in your adorable kid.”
“I’m not adorable,” Yuji informed you seriously.
“You definitely are.”
Yuji immediately looked pleased. Nanami already knew he was losing this battle.
ii.
They came back three days later. Then again the next week. Then suddenly it became routine. At first Nanami told himself it was because Yuji liked the pastries. Which was true. Dangerously true. Every afternoon after school, Yuji practically dragged Nanami through the bakery doors.
“The usual?” You asked brightly one afternoon.
Yuji pointed immediately. “The custard one!”
“And for Mr. Serious?”
“Black coffee.”
You sighed dramatically. “One day I’m getting you sugar.”
“One day you’ll stop trying.”
“Never.”
Yuji leaned toward you while Nanami paid.
“He actually likes sweet stuff.”
Nanami looked down immediately. “Yuji.”
“What? You ate my pancakes.”
“You left them unattended.”
“That's robbery.”
You laughed so hard you nearly dropped the pastry bag. Nanami felt something warm settle while hearing it.
Eventually, you started setting aside extra sweets “by accident.”
“This got slightly overbaked.”
“It’s perfectly fine,” Nanami said.
“Guess Yuji will have to eat it then.”
“Oh no,” Yuji said sarcastically while accepting the pastry immediately.
Another day
“I made too many cream buns.”
“You absolutely did not,” Nanami replied.
You ignored him completely while sliding the box toward Yuji. Nanami noticed the way you always packed an extra one specifically for him too. You never said anything about it. But you always did.
Slowly and terrifyingly, the bakery stopped feeling like just a bakery. It became routine. Warmth. Even something to look forward to. Yuji doing homework at the corner table while you baked. Nanami sitting nearby with loosened sleeves after work while you hummed quietly in the kitchen. Sometimes Yuji would fall asleep against Nanami’s arm after too many sweets. Sometimes Nanami caught himself staring at you longer than he should. Watching flour dust your face and clothes while you worked. Watching the way you smiled at Yuji like he was easy to look after. Watching the way you smiled at him softer.
One evening after closing, Yuji slept curled up across two chairs near the window, hoodie half slipping off his shoulder. Rain tapped gently outside. You stood behind the counter kneading dough while humming again. Nanami watched silently.
“You’re staring,” you murmured without looking up.
“You have flour all over your hair.”
You sighed dramatically. “Maybe i did it on purpose”
A faint smile pulled briefly at Nanami’s mouth.
You caught it instantly.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“You smiled.”
“I’m not smiling.”
“You totally are.”
You walked closer, stopping across from him. For a moment neither of you spoke. The bakery lights glowed warm around you while rain softened against the windows. Then quietly, you asked—
“Why do you keep coming back here, Nanami?”
The honest answer terrified him a little. Because somewhere along the way, this place had started feeling more like home than his little apartment did. Because Yuji laughed more here. Because you looked at both of them like you genuinely wanted them around. Because after years of exhaustion and numb routine, Nanami had somehow stumbled into warmth again. His eyes drifted toward sleeping Yuji briefly. Then back to you.
“You’re good to him,” he said softly.
Your expression gentled immediately.
“He’s easy to care about.”
“Yes” Nanami replied quietly. “He is.”
Then after a pause-
“So are you.”
iii.
Yuji became part of your bakery routine embarrassingly fast. By the third week, you already had his favorite pastry waiting whenever the bell above the door chimed.
“Custard?” you’d ask.
“Yes please.”
“And vegetables later?”
Yuji groaned dramatically every single time. Nanami found himself watching the exchange from behind him more often than he should. Watching the way you leaned against the counter while talking to Yuji like he was important. Like he wasn’t a burden. Like caring for him was second nature to you. It did something strange to Nanami’s chest every time. Especially because fostering Yuji hadn’t been easy. Nothing about it had been easy.
At first, Nanami had told himself it was temporary. A few weeks at most. Just until paperwork got sorted out. Just until someone else stepped in. But then Yuji started leaving his shoes by the front door. Started falling asleep on the couch waiting for Nanami to get home from work. Started looking up every evening the second he heard keys in the lock. And somewhere between grocery lists and school forms and making sure there was enough food in the apartment, Nanami stopped feeling like he was just “helping.”
It scared him a little. Because attachment meant loss eventually. Nanami knew that better than most. Yet every afternoon despite himself, he found his feet carrying him toward your bakery. Toward warmth. Toward soft music and the smell of fresh bread and your quiet humming from behind the counter. Toward you.
One particularly exhausting evening, Nanami arrived nearly an hour later than usual. His shoulders ached. His tie felt suffocating. And he’d spent the last twelve hours dealing with people he was becoming convinced lacked functional brains. The bell chimed softly when he entered. Yuji looked up from his homework immediately.
“Nanamin!”
You glanced over from behind the register too. Your expression softened instantly.
“You look awful.”
“Thank you.”
“I mean more than usual.”
Yuji nodded seriously. “You’ve got the scary eye bags today.”
Nanami sighed heavily.
“I’m surrounded by bullies.”
You laughed quietly under your breath.
God. That sound was becoming dangerous for him. It had him imagining a future-which isn’t something he does often. He loosened his tie slightly before sitting beside Yuji at the corner table. Without asking, you appeared a minute later with a coffee and a plate holding a small slice of strawberry shortcake. Nanami frowned immediately.
“I didn’t order this.”
“You looked like you got beat up by your paperwork.”
“That’s not possible.”
“It should be.”
You slid the plate closer anyway. Nanami stared at the cake.
“…I don’t really eat sweets.”
Yuji looked at him like he’d admitted to a crime.
“That’s crazy.”
“You’re both judging me now?”
“Yes” you and Yuji answered simultaneously.
You blinked. Then both of you burst into laughter. Nanami felt warmth bloom unexpectedly in his chest at the sound. The scene felt so domestic it almost unnerved him. Yuji doing homework. You dusting flour from your hands nearby. Coffee growing cold beside him while rain tapped softly against the windows outside. It felt peaceful. Dangerously peaceful. The kind of peace that made a person forget to keep their guard up. Nanami took one bite of the cake mostly to stop Yuji from staring at him like a disappointed puppy. Then paused. You looked entirely too pleased with yourself.
“…Good?”
“It’s acceptable.”
“That means yes” you told Yuji knowingly.
Yuji grinned triumphantly.
“Get him another one.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
You slid another pastry onto the plate anyway. Nanami realized with growing horror that the two of you had started teaming up against him regularly.
iv.
Another afternoon, Nanami arrived to find Yuji behind the counter wearing one of your spare aprons. Flour coated nearly every visible surface. Including Yuji himself.
Nanami stopped in the doorway.
“…What happened?”
Yuji looked delighted.
“We’re making bread.”
“You’re making a mess.”
“I’m helping.”
You stood nearby laughing while trying to move your hair off your cheek with the back of your wrist.
“It was my idea” you admitted. “In my defense, he was very persuasive.”
Yuji held up a lopsided piece of dough proudly.
Nanami stared at it.
“It looks diseased.”
“It’s a turtle!”
“No, it looks more like a tortoise.”
You laughed so hard you had to lean against the counter. Nanami’s gaze drifted toward you automatically. There was jelly all over your apron. A bit near your jaw this time too. You started humming absentmindedly again while reshaping dough on the counter. Soft. Mindless. Comfortable. Nanami didn’t realize he’d been staring until Yuji suddenly grinned.
“You’re doing the thing again.”
Nanami looked down immediately. “What thing?”
“The staring thing.”
“I’m not staring.”
“You so are.”
You blinked between them curiously. Yuji pointed directly at Nanami.
“He looks at you like you’re the sun.”
Silence.
Nanami felt his soul briefly leave his body.
“Yuji” he said flatly.
“What?”
You looked equally caught off guard. Then slowly—very slowly a smile spread across your face. Nanami immediately reached for the bridge of his nose.
“This is why children shouldn’t speak.”
Yuji looked deeply offended.
“You’re just embarrassed because I’m right.”
“You are not right.”
“You brought her flowers last week.”
“They were leftover from a client meeting.”
“You hate flowers.”
Nanami opened his mouth.
Closed it.
You were trying very hard not to laugh now.
“I was wondering about that” you admitted softly.
Nanami looked at you. Your expression had gentled completely.
Warm.
Something shifted quietly in the air. Yuji looked between both of you before dramatically gasping.
“Oh my god.”
“Yuji.”
“You guys are in love.”
“We are not,” Nanami answered immediately.
Too quickly. Your eyebrows lifted.
“Not even a little?”
Nanami looked at you across the counter.
Jelly on your face. Warm light catching in your eyes. That familiar soft humming under your breath while you smiled at him like he was someone worth waiting for. Then his gaze drifted briefly toward Yuji happily ruining dough beside you. Toward the life he somehow kept finding himself pulled back into every day. Something tender twisted in his chest. Because the truth was horrifyingly simple. He was already attached. To both of you. Completely. And Kento Nanami had never done anything halfway. Yuji narrowed his eyes knowingly.
“You’re making the face again.”
“What face?”
“The one where you look like you wanna say something nice”
Nanami stood slowly.
“I’m leaving.”
“You literally just got here,” you laughed.
Yuji pointed dramatically.
“See? He’s running away!”
Nanami picked up a dish towel and threw it directly at him. Yuji dodged it while laughing loudly. And for the first time in years, Nanami realized something terrifying. When he pictured home now—He no longer pictured an apartment. He pictured this bakery instead.
When he finally told you how he felt It wasn’t dramatic. That was probably the strangest part. No huge confession in the rain. No dramatic realization.
No moment where one of you suddenly blurted out I’m in love with you. It happened so slowly and so naturally that by the time either of you realized what this was becoming, it already felt inevitable.
It started with little things. Nanami staying later after closing. At first he’d only linger long enough for Yuji to finish homework at the corner table. Then somehow he started helping stack chairs. Wiping counters. Carrying flour bags into the back room before you could ask.
“You don’t work here” you told him one night.
“You were lifting improperly.”
“That’s not a thing.”
But he kept doing it anyway.
And you kept pretending not to notice how tired he looked after twelve-hour shifts. So instead, you started leaving food beside him while he helped clean. Nothing fancy. Just—
“Eat this.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“That wasn’t a question.”
Nanami learned quickly that you were strangely scary when concerned.
Then came habits. Dangerous little habits. You texting him when Yuji forgot his lunch at school because somehow you were now his emergency contact too. Nanami walking you to your station after late supply runs because “it’s unsafe this late.” You falling asleep briefly against his shoulder one night after closing while waiting for the last train. Neither of you mentioning it afterward. Except after that Nanami started standing slightly closer to you naturally. Like his body had quietly decided something before his mind caught up.
The actual moment things changed happened on an ordinary Tuesday. Which felt fitting. The bakery had closed early because of heavy snow. Yuji was at a sleepover for the first time in weeks after begging Nanami relentlessly to let him go. So for the first time in months It was just the two of you.
The bakery was quiet. Soft jazz played from the old speaker near the kitchen while snow drifted outside the windows in slow white sheets. You stood near the counter boxing leftover pastries while humming the song softly under your breath. Nanami sat at his usual table loosening his tie slightly after work. He was watching you again. He did that often now. The weird thing was he’d stopped trying not to.
“You’re staring,” you murmured without looking up.
“You have flour on your cheek.”
You laughed quietly.
“At this point I think it lives there.”
Nanami stood before really thinking about it. You looked up as he walked over. There was flour near your jaw again. And without hesitation now, without awkwardness—he brushed it away gently with his thumb. But this time neither of you moved afterward. Your eyes stayed on his. Warm bakery lights. Snow outside. Your breath caught slightly. And Nanami realized something terrifying--these past few months had been the first taste of normalcy he’d ever allowed himself to have. This felt natural. Not overwhelming. Not frightening. Just… right.
You smiled first. Soft and sleepy and fond.
“You know,” you said quietly, “you touch me like you already know you’re allowed to.”
Nanami went still. You were right. Somewhere along the way, you’d become part of him so naturally that he’d stopped questioning whether he could reach for you. Stopped questioning whether you’d pull away. His hand was still resting lightly against your cheek.
“You never seem upset when I do,” he admitted quietly.
Your expression softened immediately.
“I’m never upset when it’s you.”
God. You said things so gently sometimes it completely ruined him. The bakery suddenly felt very small. Very warm. Very dangerous. Nanami exhaled softly through his nose.
“You should be more careful saying things like that.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m trying very hard to behave appropriately.”
You blinked once. Then laughed softly under your breath.
“Kento.”
The use of his first name nearly killed him on the spot. You noticed immediately too because your smile faltered into something softer. More vulnerable. And then very carefully, you stepped closer. Not enough to touch fully. Just enough that Nanami could feel your warmth.
“You know,” you murmured, “most people would’ve figured out we liked each other months ago.”
“I was aware.”
“You were?”
“I was choosing to ignore it.”
You smiled. “Why?”
Nanami looked at you quietly for a long moment. Then finally answered honestly.
“Because the last time I cared about people this much, I lost them.”
The words settled heavily between you. You looked at him with that same gentle expression that always made him feel painfully seen. Then you reached up carefully and straightened his loosened tie. A tiny habit you’d developed recently.
“You know what I think?” you asked softly.
“What?”
“I think you’ve spent so long preparing yourself for loss that you forgot some things are worth keeping anyway.”
Nanami felt his stomach churn. Because you said it so simply. Like loving someone wasn’t terrifying. Like staying wasn’t terrifying. Your fingers lingered briefly against his tie. Neither of you moved.
Then quietly—very quietly. Nanami leaned down and kissed you. Slow. Careful. Like he was still giving you time to change your mind. You kissed him back immediately. Warm hands sliding lightly against his sleeves while he held you gently like something precious. And suddenly Nanami understood why people wrote poetry. Because nothing in his life had ever felt this soft before. When you finally pulled apart, both of you stayed close enough that your foreheads nearly touched. You smiled first again.
“You know,” you whispered “that was way less stiff and robotic than I expected.”
Nanami closed his eyes briefly.
“Oh my god.”
You laughed softly against him.
And then, because apparently the universe enjoyed humiliating him, the bakery door burst open.
“Guys, I forgot my—” Yuji froze mid-sentence.
Silence.
You immediately stepped back, startled. Nanami looked exhausted instantly. Yuji stared between both of you slowly.
You always know when Satoru’s home before he even opens the door.
It starts with sugar.
Sweet cream drifting through the hallway outside your apartment. Chocolate, strawberries and powdered sugar sneaking beneath the crack of the door before he’s even unlocked it properly.
Then comes the sound.
Keys jingling. A bag rustling. Satoru cursing quietly because he’s trying to unlock the door while holding too many things at once.
And finally
“I’m homeeee!”
Too loud. Always too loud.
You grin before you even look up from the couch.
“In the future,” you call back, “you should come in like a normal person.”
The door swings open.
Satoru stands there with sunglasses slipping down his nose, hair messy from the wind, and at least four convenience store bags hanging from his arms.
“No,” he says seriously. “This is part of the experience.”
“You look ridiculous.”
“And yet,” he says while kicking the door shut behind him, “you’re smiling.”
You hate when he’s right.
The apartment immediately smells sweeter when he walks in. Tonight it’s warm custard and caramel popcorn. Last week it was strawberry mochi. Before that, cinnamon pastries from a bakery two stations away because Satoru heard someone mention them during a mission and decided you needed to try them immediately.
“You know,” you laughed, taking the bag from his hands, “normal people bring flowers.”
Satoru dropped dramatically onto the couch, long legs hanging over the armrest. “Flowers die. Snacks are forever.”
“They literally get eaten.”
“Shhh snacks are just better and you know it.”
You rolled your eyes, but you were already rummaging through the bag.
He watched you like he always did when you tried something for the first time, chin resting in his palm, blue eyes bright behind those ridiculous sunglasses he rarely took off.
His grin turns unbearably smug. “See? I know you.”
“Your plan is to fatten me up so I can't leave you.”
He goes completely silent.
You glance up just in time to catch the exact moment his brain short circuits.
Then a loud, offended gasp.
“Woah first of all,” he says, grasping his chest dramatically,"I would never. Second of all, are you trying to say I need to bribe you to stay with me.”
“You literally bought me ice cream so I could go to that work event with you last week.”
“And it worked.”
“Obviously it worked.”
Satoru beams instantly, completely unashamed. Then he leans casually against the counter, sunglasses slipping down his nose while he watches you steal a bite straight from one of the boxes.
“You’re never leaving me,” he says confidently.
“Thats creepy”
“But am I wrong?”
You open your mouth.
Pause.
Then narrow your eyes.
“I don’t like how cocky you just sounded”
“Its only because,” Satoru says while stealing the pastry directly out of your hand, “I’m the strongest.”
What a cornball
“You’re the annoyingest.”
“And yet,” he says around a mouthful of stolen dessert, “you loooove me.”
“Whatever”
And maybe that was the thing you loved most.
No matter how late the mission. No matter how exhausted he looked walking through the door. No matter how much blood stained the collar of his uniform.
He always came back to you.
And he always brought you something sweet.
“Okay,” you say seriously one night, spreading wrappers across the coffee table. “We need rankings.”
Satoru looks up from where he’s half upside down on the couch. “Rankings?”
“Yes. Your mission snacks.”
His expression lights up instantly.
“Oh, this is important.”
“It’s very important.”
For the next twenty minutes, the strongest sorcerer alive argues passionately about dessert placement.
“The strawberry daifuku deserves top three.”
“It was too sweet.”
“You’re wrong.”
You snort.
Satoru tilts his head just enough to look up at you over the edge of his sunglasses.
There’s something soft in his expression suddenly.
Quiet.
The kind of look he only gets when the apartment is dark and peaceful and it’s just the two of you existing together.
“What?” you ask.
“Nothing.”
Which means it’s definitely something.
But before you can push, he reaches into another bag dramatically.
“I also brought cupcakes.”
Your entire train of thought disappears instantly.
“Satoru.”
“I know.”
“From the bakery we met at?”
“I know.”
You lean down and kiss him immediately.
Satoru grins against your mouth like he planned this.
“You’re unbelievably easy to please.”
“You weaponized dessert.”
“You say that like it’s unethical.”
“It is unethical.”
Sometimes he comes home exhausted.
Those are your favorite nights.
Not because you like seeing him tired, but because those are the only times Satoru stops performing.
No dramatics. No exaggerated whining. No endless talking.
Just quiet.
One rainy evening he walks through the door absolutely soaked, uniform damp, hair dripping water onto the floor.
And still
He lifts a paper bag triumphantly.
“I protected them.”
You stare at him.
“You got caught in a storm and your first concern was pastries?”
“The croissants almost died.”
“You’re insane.”
“But look.”
He opens the bag carefully.
Perfectly intact dubai chocolate croissants.
He could see the excitement on your face.
Satoru watches you with that same soft expression again. Like this alone was worth it.
Later that night, after showers and dry clothes and shared dessert at the kitchen counter, you find him half asleep against your shoulder.
“You know,” you murmur, “you don’t actually have to bring me something every mission.”
Satoru doesn’t even open his eyes.
“I know.”
“Then why do you?”
A long pause.
“Because I like coming home to you.”
Your chest aches in the warmest way possible.
So you kiss the top of his head and pretend not to notice how pink his ears turn.
Over time, the routine becomes automatic.
You know what kind of sweets he’ll bring based on where he was assigned.
You know expensive bakery boxes mean the mission went smoothly.
Convenience store candy means he remembered at the last second.
Crushed packaging means he got into a fight midway through carrying it.
And maybe that’s why you never let yourself worry too much when he leaves for missions.
Because no matter what happens, no matter how dangerous things get he always comes back.
So when he leaves for Shibuya, you force yourself to believe this time won’t be any different.
He lingers by the door before leaving, one hand in his pocket.
“You’re staring again,” he says.
“You’re acting weird again.”
“I thought I always act weird.”
“Satoru.”
A small smile tugs at his mouth.
Then he pulls a bag from behind his back and tosses it toward you.
You catch it instinctively.
banana bread from your favorite café.
“You bought goodbye bread?” you ask flatly.
“It’s not goodbye bread.”
“It feels like goodbye bread.”
Satoru walks over before you can say anything else and presses a quick kiss against your forehead.
“I’ll be home later. They just need alot of us down there right now i dont know how long it'll be till you get your next treat” he says softly.
If you weren't worried before you definitely are now
“Promise me you'll be safe” you say with tears already starting to form
“I promise”
Days pass.
Your apartment feels wrong without him in it.
Too quiet.
No loud complaints from the kitchen. No half-opened bags of candy left on the counter. No long limbs taking up too much space on the couch. You keep checking your phone anyway.
Waiting.
Because eventually the mission will end. Eventually the lock will click. Eventually the apartment will smell like sugar again.
Satoru will come home.
He always does.
So when you finally hear keys at the door late one evening, relief floods your chest so fast it almost hurts.
You stand immediately. Already smiling.
Already waiting for the familiar rush of sweetness that always arrives before him.
But the scent that reaches you first isn’t sugar.
It’s rain.
Cold air.
Something heavy beneath it that you can’t name.
Your smile falters.
The door opens slowly. And for one horrible second, you still expect it to be him.
White hair.
A stupid grin.
Paper bags swinging from one hand.
Instead, it’s Yuji. His uniform is wrinkled. His eyes are red like he hasn’t slept properly in days. In his hands is a brown paper bag.
Your stomach drops instantly.
Because Yuji looks at you the same way people look at broken things.
“Hey,” he says quietly.
And that’s when you know.
Not from his expression. Not from the silence. Not even from the fact that Satoru isn’t standing behind him.
You know because the apartment doesn’t smell sweet enough. It doesn’t smell like him.
Yuji steps inside carefully, like he isn’t sure he belongs there without him.
“I, uh…” His voice catches. “Gojo bought these before…”
He lifts the bag slightly.
Inside are coffee cakes from your favorite bakery.
The exact ones Satoru always brings home after long missions.
Something in your chest caves.
“No,” you whisper immediately.
Yuji’s face crumples.
“He told us about it,” he says softly. “How you always waited for him. How he always brings you new sweets”
Your vision blurs instantly.
The bag rustles quietly in Yuji’s shaking hands.
Satoru had bought them before he got sealed
Before the Shinjuku
Before Sukuna
Your knees nearly give out.
Because he really meant to come back. Even then knowing what he was walking into. He still stopped to bring you something sweet.
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You always know when Satoru’s home before he even opens the door.
It starts with sugar.
Sweet cream drifting through the hallway outside your apartment. Chocolate, strawberries and powdered sugar sneaking beneath the crack of the door before he’s even unlocked it properly.
Then comes the sound.
Keys jingling. A bag rustling. Satoru cursing quietly because he’s trying to unlock the door while holding too many things at once.
And finally
“I’m homeeee!”
Too loud. Always too loud.
You grin before you even look up from the couch.
“In the future,” you call back, “you should come in like a normal person.”
The door swings open.
Satoru stands there with sunglasses slipping down his nose, hair messy from the wind, and at least four convenience store bags hanging from his arms.
“No,” he says seriously. “This is part of the experience.”
“You look ridiculous.”
“And yet,” he says while kicking the door shut behind him, “you’re smiling.”
You hate when he’s right.
The apartment immediately smells sweeter when he walks in. Tonight it’s warm custard and caramel popcorn. Last week it was strawberry mochi. Before that, cinnamon pastries from a bakery two stations away because Satoru heard someone mention them during a mission and decided you needed to try them immediately.
“You know,” you laughed, taking the bag from his hands, “normal people bring flowers.”
Satoru dropped dramatically onto the couch, long legs hanging over the armrest. “Flowers die. Snacks are forever.”
“They literally get eaten.”
“Shhh snacks are just better and you know it.”
You rolled your eyes, but you were already rummaging through the bag.
He watched you like he always did when you tried something for the first time, chin resting in his palm, blue eyes bright behind those ridiculous sunglasses he rarely took off.
His grin turns unbearably smug. “See? I know you.”
“Your plan is to fatten me up so I can't leave you.”
He goes completely silent.
You glance up just in time to catch the exact moment his brain short circuits.
Then a loud, offended gasp.
“Woah first of all,” he says, grasping his chest dramatically,"I would never. Second of all, are you trying to say I need to bribe you to stay with me.”
“You literally bought me ice cream so I could go to that work event with you last week.”
“And it worked.”
“Obviously it worked.”
Satoru beams instantly, completely unashamed. Then he leans casually against the counter, sunglasses slipping down his nose while he watches you steal a bite straight from one of the boxes.
“You’re never leaving me,” he says confidently.
“Thats creepy”
“But am I wrong?”
You open your mouth.
Pause.
Then narrow your eyes.
“I don’t like how cocky you just sounded”
“Its only because,” Satoru says while stealing the pastry directly out of your hand, “I’m the strongest.”
What a cornball
“You’re the annoyingest.”
“And yet,” he says around a mouthful of stolen dessert, “you loooove me.”
“Whatever”
And maybe that was the thing you loved most.
No matter how late the mission. No matter how exhausted he looked walking through the door. No matter how much blood stained the collar of his uniform.
He always came back to you.
And he always brought you something sweet.
“Okay,” you say seriously one night, spreading wrappers across the coffee table. “We need rankings.”
Satoru looks up from where he’s half upside down on the couch. “Rankings?”
“Yes. Your mission snacks.”
His expression lights up instantly.
“Oh, this is important.”
“It’s very important.”
For the next twenty minutes, the strongest sorcerer alive argues passionately about dessert placement.
“The strawberry daifuku deserves top three.”
“It was too sweet.”
“You’re wrong.”
You snort.
Satoru tilts his head just enough to look up at you over the edge of his sunglasses.
There’s something soft in his expression suddenly.
Quiet.
The kind of look he only gets when the apartment is dark and peaceful and it’s just the two of you existing together.
“What?” you ask.
“Nothing.”
Which means it’s definitely something.
But before you can push, he reaches into another bag dramatically.
“I also brought cupcakes.”
Your entire train of thought disappears instantly.
“Satoru.”
“I know.”
“From the bakery we met at?”
“I know.”
You lean down and kiss him immediately.
Satoru grins against your mouth like he planned this.
“You’re unbelievably easy to please.”
“You weaponized dessert.”
“You say that like it’s unethical.”
“It is unethical.”
Sometimes he comes home exhausted.
Those are your favorite nights.
Not because you like seeing him tired, but because those are the only times Satoru stops performing.
No dramatics. No exaggerated whining. No endless talking.
Just quiet.
One rainy evening he walks through the door absolutely soaked, uniform damp, hair dripping water onto the floor.
And still
He lifts a paper bag triumphantly.
“I protected them.”
You stare at him.
“You got caught in a storm and your first concern was pastries?”
“The croissants almost died.”
“You’re insane.”
“But look.”
He opens the bag carefully.
Perfectly intact dubai chocolate croissants.
He could see the excitement on your face.
Satoru watches you with that same soft expression again. Like this alone was worth it.
Later that night, after showers and dry clothes and shared dessert at the kitchen counter, you find him half asleep against your shoulder.
“You know,” you murmur, “you don’t actually have to bring me something every mission.”
Satoru doesn’t even open his eyes.
“I know.”
“Then why do you?”
A long pause.
“Because I like coming home to you.”
Your chest aches in the warmest way possible.
So you kiss the top of his head and pretend not to notice how pink his ears turn.
Over time, the routine becomes automatic.
You know what kind of sweets he’ll bring based on where he was assigned.
You know expensive bakery boxes mean the mission went smoothly.
Convenience store candy means he remembered at the last second.
Crushed packaging means he got into a fight midway through carrying it.
And maybe that’s why you never let yourself worry too much when he leaves for missions.
Because no matter what happens, no matter how dangerous things get he always comes back.
So when he leaves for Shibuya, you force yourself to believe this time won’t be any different.
He lingers by the door before leaving, one hand in his pocket.
“You’re staring again,” he says.
“You’re acting weird again.”
“I thought I always act weird.”
“Satoru.”
A small smile tugs at his mouth.
Then he pulls a bag from behind his back and tosses it toward you.
You catch it instinctively.
banana bread from your favorite café.
“You bought goodbye bread?” you ask flatly.
“It’s not goodbye bread.”
“It feels like goodbye bread.”
Satoru walks over before you can say anything else and presses a quick kiss against your forehead.
“I’ll be home later. They just need alot of us down there right now i dont know how long it'll be till you get your next treat” he says softly.
If you weren't worried before you definitely are now
“Promise me you'll be safe” you say with tears already starting to form
“I promise”
Days pass.
Your apartment feels wrong without him in it.
Too quiet.
No loud complaints from the kitchen. No half-opened bags of candy left on the counter. No long limbs taking up too much space on the couch. You keep checking your phone anyway.
Waiting.
Because eventually the mission will end. Eventually the lock will click. Eventually the apartment will smell like sugar again.
Satoru will come home.
He always does.
So when you finally hear keys at the door late one evening, relief floods your chest so fast it almost hurts.
You stand immediately. Already smiling.
Already waiting for the familiar rush of sweetness that always arrives before him.
But the scent that reaches you first isn’t sugar.
It’s rain.
Cold air.
Something heavy beneath it that you can’t name.
Your smile falters.
The door opens slowly. And for one horrible second, you still expect it to be him.
White hair.
A stupid grin.
Paper bags swinging from one hand.
Instead, it’s Yuji. His uniform is wrinkled. His eyes are red like he hasn’t slept properly in days. In his hands is a brown paper bag.
Your stomach drops instantly.
Because Yuji looks at you the same way people look at broken things.
“Hey,” he says quietly.
And that’s when you know.
Not from his expression. Not from the silence. Not even from the fact that Satoru isn’t standing behind him.
You know because the apartment doesn’t smell sweet enough. It doesn’t smell like him.
Yuji steps inside carefully, like he isn’t sure he belongs there without him.
“I, uh…” His voice catches. “Gojo bought these before…”
He lifts the bag slightly.
Inside are coffee cakes from your favorite bakery.
The exact ones Satoru always brings home after long missions.
Something in your chest caves.
“No,” you whisper immediately.
Yuji’s face crumples.
“He told us about it,” he says softly. “How you always waited for him. How he always brings you new sweets”
Your vision blurs instantly.
The bag rustles quietly in Yuji’s shaking hands.
Satoru had bought them before he got sealed
Before the Shinjuku
Before Sukuna
Your knees nearly give out.
Because he really meant to come back. Even then knowing what he was walking into. He still stopped to bring you something sweet.
you had just come back from your long shift at the hospital. after many surgeries, family members and patients crying, sneezes, coughs, and even bodily fluids—you were absolutely beat and done for the day.
toeing off your shoes at the entrance, you notice jinshi’s shoes. ‘he must’ve gotten off of work early’ you think.
your suspicions are immediately confirmed once you hear a voice. a very sweet, yet too loud for your current mood one.
your sweet, loving, and clingy husband jinshi.
“hooonnneeyyyy? is that you?” he calls out sweetly—how he usually would. yet, you’re not in the mood for it. “mhm,” you hum tiredly. “it’s me, jin.”
jinshi had been feeling needy ever since you left for work that morning. he even had to rub a quick one off before heading to work.
jinshi peeks his head out from the corner, and his gaze falls to your tired face—but of course that doesn’t stop jinshi. “aww,” he coos. “is my baby all tired?”
he stops in front of you, cupping your face to smother kisses all over it. “i’ll take it all away so we can—” he cuts himself off once he feels your hands around his wrists.
pulling them off your face.
“i’m so exhausted, ji. i want to be alone.” you walk past him, putting your jacket and bag in the closet as he stand there frozen. shocked.
sure, you had gotten into your moods here and there. but you’d never push him away so harshly. jinshi turns to look at you, looking like some sort of kicked puppy.
“i… i’m sorry, honey. do you need anything? i’ll start a bath—or make dinner?” you shake your head, already moving towards the bathroom to take a shower.
about 30 minutes later, you emerge from the shower—feeling all clean and satisfied. jinshi glances up from the bed once you enter the room, his signature puppy pout on his face. of course you feel bad for being rude towards him, but today had not been your day.
“feeling better, sweetie?” he asks, his voice much quieter and softer than before. you nod and change into some more comfortable clothes, then head out to start on some dinner.
after a while of cheffing it up in the kitchen, jinshi eventually exits the room and drags himself over to you. despite knowing you’re not in the mood—he still takes his chance to wrap his arms loosely around your waist and place my chin on your shoulder.
he hopes that maybe your shower had calmed you down.
and it did.
you just still felt nonverbal and wanted to be alone.
“what are you making, hon?” he sniffs in the delicious scent of dinner.
“pesto pasta,” you reply. it was probably the easiest yet still tasty thing you could make after such a long day. “s’there enough for me?” he asks and you nod. you normally tend to relax under jinshi’s embrace, but you still weren’t feeling like it.
jinshi on the other hand had been growing pretty antsy. with a big huff, he nips at your bare shoulder—soothing it with his tongue. “mm—jinshi!” you exclaimed.
“what? you’re being quite annoying tonight.” he bites back, regretting his words but doesn’t back down. “annoying? jinshi, i—” you’re cut off once his mouth finds your neck, placing sloppy wet kisses all over it.
“j—jinshi—quit that!” the wooden spoon that you were holding drops onto the pan. you hold yourself against the oven handle, feeling your knees go slightly weak.
“i’ve been wanting you before i even left the house this morning. then you just come in all tired,” he pauses marking up your neck—the heat of anger slowly dissipating. “i know i’m acting like a jackass. i’m sorry. i just really want you right now.” his fingers move to your chin to lift your head so you meet his gaze.
“please, baby?”
your entire body softens when you look at his eyes. fuck, he always looked so good when he’s needy. knowing you and how you react, jinshi latches onto your neck again.
you turn the stove off and turn in his arms, tilting your head back just enough to give him more access. “jinshi, fuck—feels so good…” you softly gasp when his warm tongue settles on your cold neck.
“you taste so perfect, baby. god, i love you so much.” jinshi pulls away just enough so his lips meet yours. he kisses you just like how he did with your neck.
nipping at your bottom lip, letting his tongue swim against yours. he groans against your mouth, sending vibrations through you which make you feel like your seeing stars.
you pull back after a while, but jinshi chases after your lips—yet he falls short after realizing how much he needs a breather as well.
“you’re so perfect, honey. i’ll do anything you want.” he states, suddenly realizing that he might be kind of selfish for fulfilling his needs and not making sure this is exactly what you want.
cause who knows? maybe you just wanted to have a chill night with him and vent about your day. but after all of that? there’s no way you’re stopping there.
it had been a boring afternoon in your dorm. you had just finished making up missing work, cleaning up your room, and making lunch.
your boyfriend, satoru, had come over a while ago to study—but you’d rather doomscroll. you’d been doing it for quite a while, scrolling between brainrot and actual relatable videos.
you had just scrolled past a triple t video when you landed on a couple. the caption read: ‘calling my bf “my friend” to see his reaction.’
watching through the video, you thought that this would be a perfect thing to prank satoru with. so, you had gotten up, walking over to stand behind satoru as he studied.
you wrapped your arms loosely around his shoulders, placing your chin on his head. “toruu, can you take a minute please?” satoru peeks up enough to look at you before moving his gaze back to his work.
“hmm? what is it, baby?” he asks, settling one of his hands over yours. “can we do a quick little video? i saw this trend on tiktok, and i wanted to try it with you.”
satoru tears his gaze away from his seller evolution notes, and turns slightly in the chair to meet your face. “a trend? what kind of trend—cause i swear, if i have to make another tung tung—”
“it’s not a triple t video. i promise, toru. just scoot a bit.” satoru scoots over slightly so you can sit half on the chair and half on his lap.
you prop up your phone, putting it up against a water bottle that’s been sitting on your desk for who knows how long. “alright, so basically i’m just gonna ask you questions about me, and i wanna see how much you get correct, kay?”
satoru nods and looks ahead at the camera, his head laying on your shoulder. “ok, perfect.” you press record to begin the video. “hey guys, so today i’m here with my friend to see how well he knows me!
satoru lifts his head up from your shoulder immediately, turning his head towards you. you feign confusion, raising your eyebrows. “what? anyway, let’s begin.”
satoru decides to ignore it despite feeling a slight gnaw at his chest. “so, friend, what is my favorite color?” you question, meeting his eyes.
“amaranth pink,” he says quickly, glancing at the camera and saying: “i’m her boyfriend by the way.” you let out a startled laugh at how specific and quickly he answered.
“that’s correct, but let’s now ask my friend a more hard—” you cut yourself off when satoru suddenly puts down your phone to face the desk.
“wha—what was that for, toru?” you feign innocence despite giggling like an evil person on the inside. “you keep calling me your friend. i’m your boyfriend.” he says, his arms around your waist tightening.
“but you are my friend? i don’t see the problem, silly.” satoru pouts at your words. “but i’m a special kind of friend. do friends really make you cu—”
“toru!”
“what? it’s a valid question.” before you can say anything else, satoru picks up your still recording phone and cups your face.
“do friends do this?” satoru leans in to press his lips against yours. since when did he get so petty like this? satoru moved his lips against yours passionately, just enough to prove to anyone that you were his just as much as he was yours.
your tongue slides into his mouth with ease, causing his ears to flush just enough so the camera catches it. he pulls back after a while, lying his forehead on yours to catch his breath.
he turns his head just enough to stop the video, meeting your gaze after. “i didn’t like that, baby. please don’t do that again.” he says with a slight sulky pout.
your face softens, filled with slight guilt. “i’m sorry, toru. i won’t do it again, promise.” you say with a gentle smile, placing a soft kiss to the corner of his lips.
“good,” his pout turning into a small grin. “i’d rather make stupid videos with you that rot my chatgpt brain.” you softly giggle, pulling back enough to see his face fully. “your chatgpt brain? that’s a new one, baby.”
“i think it suits me well, don’t ya think?” he asks with feigned seriousness. “i think it suits you perfectly, my sweet nerd.”
“f—fuckk, baby. you feel s’damn good right now.” reiner says, his hands resting on your ass as you move your hips in circles on his.
“you fill me up s—sooo good, reiner.” your pussy flutters when his cock hits your cervix so perfectly. his hips buck up to yours, moans spilling from both of your guys’ lips.
“gonna fill you up so good, baby. gonna make you all mine.” reiner whimpers out. your hips move so good against his, your clit rubbing sooo well against his pubic bone.
your hands settle on his chest to stabilize yourself as you ride him, but the impact makes reiner feel extremely warm down south.
“mmh—godddd, that feels so good, baby.” you continue to grind down on him, thinking your hip movements are what he’s enjoying. your slick mixes with his cum, smearing all over his thighs, yours, and the sheets.
“baby, please do that again. fuuuck, it felt so good.” you tilt your head in confusion since you are still grinding down on him. what else could he be talking about?
“what—mmh! what are you talking about?” you question him, switching from grinding to soft bouncing. reiner practically whimpers under you, “that thing when your hands hit my chest. it felt so good, baby. just please do it again, please please—”
your movements slow down as you think about his words. did he want you to hit him? “baby, do you want me to hit you?” reiner nods, his eyes rolling back just at the thought of it.
“baby, i don’t wanna hurt you though.” you say with a small pout, hips stilling. reiner groans as you stop, guiding you with his hands on your ass.
“you won’t hurt me, baby. i can take it, promise.” he reassures you. you nod, picking up your movements and your hand—ready to slap him straight in the face.
once your hips meet his with a rough thrust, your hand lands on his face—earning a pathetic whimper escape from his lips.
“mm—! please do it again, felt s’fucking good, baby.” reiner pleads once more, earning another sharp slap from you.
reiner can feel another fresh load readying to shoot through your tight and warm pussy—the sounds and slaps between the two of you, shlick shlick shlick—sends stars to his brain.
“fuck, baby—! gonna fill you up so fucking much—shit!” he lets out the fresh load, letting it flood through you. you cum quickly after, the feeling of his warm cum inside you sending you over.
you collapse on top of him, your legs absolutely spent and wet with cum. “i love you, baby. you’re so good for me.” reiner murmurs against your forehead, placing a sweet kiss to it.
“love you too, my little masochist.” you tease with a small and tired grin on your face, which earns a slap to your ass.
summary: You’re a baker with some pretty freaky instincts and get pulled into a string of mysterious pet disappearances by your chaotic, but amazing, handsome, and kind detective best friend, Joseph. Which is how he’d say it. As you guys chase the truth, your long-hidden feelings finally surface, and threaten to change your partnership forever.
contains: smut (p in v, oral sex for reader, dry humping), yearning joseph?, fattie joseph, fluff, light angst
wc: 11.36k
a/n: this is my first fanfic ever and took embarrassingly long. I hope you guys enjoy, and I would love to get some constructive criticism! Enjoy :) 🤍
8:26 PM Wednesday
The bell above your bakery door rings as you put the cinnamon rolls in the fridge to sit overnight. Confused, since you clearly turned the sign over to ‘closed’, you turn and lay your eyes on Joseph. Oh great.
“Yo, have any of those pistachio cinnamon rolls? Oh, and coffee.” He asks unapologetically as he enters and closes the door behind him. You start to wonder why you haven’t started locking the door after closing.
You glance at him with a deadpan expression, already exhausted from the 4 PM rush today.
“Not even a ‘hello’ or ‘hi, how are you?’ Guess that’s how it is when you’re a fat chud.” He feigns an offended expression, hand flying to his chest dramatically. “But to answer your question, there’s no cinnamon rolls but there is coffee.”
“First of all, I am no chud. Just a tired and overworked detective. Difference.” Or so he claims.
He sits at the table nearest to the counter as you begin to brew the vanilla coffee, his favorite. As the coffee brews you grab a few macarons from the display case, placing them on a plate. He glances over at you as you do. You sidelong glance at him, already knowing what’s about to come.
“So, what’s the rant for today, Jojo?” I ask, walking around the counter and placing the plate in front of him.
Joseph, the oh so fattie that he is, pulls the plate closer to him and grabs two macarons, raspberry and chocolate.
“How’d you know I was gonna rant?”
“When are you not?”
“Touché.”
“Well anyway,” he starts, practically consuming the chocolate macaron whole. “I had the most annoying day today, dude!” He begins, eyes following you around as you fill up two mugs with coffee. “I was out checking out this case, the one about the missing cat, remember?”
“Remi?” You ask, recalling the little kitty’s name. You place his mug in front of him, sitting across from him. He nods, taking a sip of the coffee.
“Yup. So, I went to the crazy cat lady’s place to check it out once again. And, dude… I was so close to killing myself.” A small chuckle escapes from your lips. “Why? Did she offer to give you one of those ‘kitty massages’ again?” “Yes, but that’s not the point.” You raise an eyebrow, even more curious now. You nod for him to continue.
“We’ve already established that she has like ten thousand cats in that house, so we can move past that.” He adds, finishing the last of his chocolate macaron. “I’m literally sitting on her couch, kay? Asking questions as I’d usually do, and tell me why this lady totally ignores the fact that like fifty of her cats are crawling all over me.”
You roll your eyes, expecting something more serious as you smack your teeth. “Mmcht, my lobster is too juicy and buttery,” you mock his dramatics. “Like dude, who doesn’t want kitties crawling all over them?”
“Nobody! Not when they smell like piss all the time.”
“Oh. Valid.”
He sighs before taking another sip of his coffee. “I don’t know how much longer I’m gonna have to deal with this. I mean, she probably didn’t even really lose the cat. It’s gotta be hidden among the other thousand cats she has.” When he says that, you think back to his other rants about this case.
“Didn’t you say that Remi was the really freaked out cat?” He nods, thinking back on what the over sharing cat lady mentioned previously. “Yeah, but awww. You remember what I tell you! You literally love me, there’s no denying it now.” He teases, completely oblivious to the very teensy crush you’ve kept hidden under everything.
You’ve been friends with Joseph ever since your freshman year in college, and have been finding him strangely more attractive and funnier than usual (cough cough, liking him but refuse to admit) ever since he had protected you from a creep a few months ago.
Your breath slightly hitches, yet completely going past his attention. Defending yourself, you blurt out quickly: “Ew don’t say stuff like that. You’re nasty.” He grins, letting out a hearty laugh—one that doesn’t deny his exhaustion from work. “The more you deny it, the more it becomes true…” He wiggles those beautifully thick eyebrows at you, teasing once more. You take one last sip of your coffee, ignoring his remarks as you continue.
“Doesn’t the crazy cat lady have a neighbor with a male cat? And didn’t she mention that Remi was always looking out the window, towards the neighbors house?” Joseph nods, placing both elbows on the table—more intrigued and focusing on your words.
“Well, what if Remi escaped over to that house? Considering she’s freaked out and all. Probably wanted a baddie.” You shrug. “I mean can you really blame a girl for wanting some fun?” Joseph’s brows furrow, considering that your theory might not actually be too terrible.
“Wait. I swear—if you’re right all along, I’ll treat you to something.” You blink, clearly not expecting that. “Yeah, like what?”
“Anything you want, I promise. I cannot deal with that lady and her cats anymore.” He groans in his hands, thinking back on the memories with her from the past two weeks. “I mean it’s only a thought, you shouldn’t take it so—” You’re cut off with a hearty sigh escaping Joseph’s lips as he takes the last sip of his coffee. Joseph stands up abruptly, the chair screeching slightly against the floor.
“You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met, dude.” Joseph walks over to your side, gripping your shoulders. “I owe you one, alright?” He winks, those fluttering long lashes brushing against his cheek as he grins.
“I’ll catch ya later! Oh—and save me some of those pistachio cinnamon rolls.” He states over his shoulder as he walks to the door. He pauses at the door, gazing over your hair—eyes pausing on a cupcake clip in it. “That’s cute. You should wear more things like that.” And just like that, he exits and waltzes off as if he didn’t just leave your heart hammering like crazy.
2:17 PM, Thursday
You’re passing a customer’s caramel apple pie slice when Joseph practically barges in as if he owns the place—cheeky grin and all. He pushes past the line to get to you, muttering ‘excuse me’s’ and apologies. You glare at him, apologizing to the customer who was about to order before he cut them off.
“Joseph, what the heck are you doing?” He ignores your glare, clearly about to start ranting. Before he can start, you cut him off with a hand to his face. “Dude, if you’re going to start—at least come to this side. You’re blocking up the line.” You state with a roll of your eyes.
“Fineee, so bossy.” He relents, walking over to where you stand. You apologize for Josephs’ behavior once again when he starts ranting in a hushed tone while you work. “So, remember what you told me yesterday?”
“What? That you’re a fat chud?”
“That is not what I meant, asshole.” He rolls his eyes, but continues nonetheless. “I meant about the cat. Remember that?” You nod, handing the customer their order and receipt. “What about it?”
“You were right.”
You pause slightly, taking a quick glance to his face before continuing your work. “Actually? Say you swear.” He leans against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. “Swear, dude. You’re literally magic.” You try to ignore how he has your neck heating up from his sweet words. “So the cat was genuinely freaked out?”
“Mhm, and pregnant.”
A surprised laugh escapes you before you quickly stifle it, attempting to act professional at your work place. “Seriously?” He nods and you shake your head, tending to the last customer that’s in the line. “Damn, kitty’s got more game than me.” He leans closer to you, “Do you not understand what this means? You should totally become a detective like me! We’d be the best partners out there.” You wipe your hands on your apron, leaning against the counter like he is.
“You’re serious aren’t you?”
“Uhh, obviously?” He answers as if it was obvious.
“You’re crazy, Jojo. I’m supposed to be baking until I’m a little old granny baking for my grandkids. I have a whole mood board. You know this.” You’ve always been baking. Ever since you met Joseph, and practically since you were born. It’d be crazy to just let it go.
“Well, it was worth a shot I guess. You’re still a psychic though. Won’t change my mind on that.”
“Oh, please. What’s next? I’m a psychic alien?”
“Maybe.”
“If I’m an alien, I hope I’m Yoda.”
“No, you’re E.T.”
You give a sidelong glance, handing him his long awaited pistachio cinnamon roll. “I shouldn’t even be giving you this for free after that comment.”
“You love me, so you’ll always give me free things.” Your heart stutters, eyes darting around the room before calming down. “It’s Opposite Day,” You defend.
“Well, if it was Opposite Day, wouldn’t you say it isn’t Opposite Day?” He says smugly, that charming little smile on his face. “Just shut up.”
He sighs dramatically, “Can’t believe I’m stuck in such a toxic relationship. Caesar wouldn’t treat me like this. He’d treat me with TLC.” His eyes glint with amusement as he takes in your exasperated expression.
“I’m totally telling Caesar that you’re spreading propaganda.
“Whatever,” he swallows the last bit of his dessert. (Did you not just give him that…?) “I still believe that you’re some psychic. So, I’ll be coming to you when I need help.” He states, sliding the plate across the counter to you. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be your own personal psychic partner.” You answer, not taking this seriously at all, because—c’mon.
Until, it happened again.
‘Conincidence, right?’ You think.
Wrong, it’s already happened four times.
10:48 PM, Tuesday
You walk out of your bakery to close up, when you notice Joseph waiting for you. “What are you doing here?” You ask, locking up the shop before turning to him. He looks good—awfully good. Hair disheveled, probably from running his beautifully thick fingers through it, and sweat on his neck and biceps—looking like he ran over here. You swallow, the sight of him makes your heart feel funny—but also your gut?
He asks, taking a few steps closer to you. “You really thought I’d let you walk alone so late again? Don’t you remember what happened last time?” Of course you do. That’s when you started feeling strangely pulled toward him. “Alright, no need to be a smartass. Thanks though.” You’ve always walked to your bakery since you live pretty close to it, but ever since that creep happened—you’ve been driving to it instead.
Unfortunately for you though, your car had to go to the shop because it had been acting up. But at least you have an amazing friend who will walk you home when you need it, although he won’t shut the fuck up until you get to your place.
10:59 PM, Tuesday
The two of you have been walking for a few minutes now, his yapping hasn’t stopped either. “So, yeah. That’s how my coworker found out he was cracking his ex step sister.” He finishes one of his rants, leaving you completely dumbfounded.
“Uhh, wow? Also don’t say ‘crack.’ You really sound like a man.” You say, lightly scolding him. He lifts his hands in surrender, “Yes, ma’am.” He says casually like it’s not turning you on. You both pause in front of your apartment once you reach it, standing right in front of each other. You’re about to say something—thank him for walking you or say some stupid insult. But you falter when Joseph leans his face closer to yours.
‘Wait, what the fuck? No way—it can’t happen like this!’ You think, internally freaking out over the fact that your friend is about to kiss you. But also… you kinda don’t mind. You close your eyes, thinking he’s going in for the kill, but he isn’t.
Suddenly, you feel a random breeze on your forehead, confused, you open your eyes—finding that Joseph had blown air on your forehead. “What the? What was that for?” You ask, attempting to hide the tremble in your voice. “Flour,” he says, wiping the excess off. “You had some on your forehead.” He notices your flustered expression and of course decides to tease you.
“What, thought I was gonna kiss you? Cute.” His smug smile isn’t small at all—nope, it’s reaching all the way to his eyes. “But seriously. I need to ask you something.” He states, seeming more serious for once. “Mm, what’s up?”
“I need you to work on a case with me.”
“What?”
You stare up at him like he’s totally crazy (kinda is). “Look, there’s this really crazy case we’ve been working on and I need your help.” He states seriously. Like serious. No stupid grin or glint of mischief in his eyes. “You’re insane, Jojo. I can’t help you on a case. Is that even allowed?!” You ramble slightly, but he cuts you off lightly, placing his hands on your shoulders to calm you down.
“You don’t have to if you don’t wanna, but I just wanted to see. You’ve helped me on a few cases already, and this one has really been a pain in everybody’s asses back at the station.” He begins to reason, but you’re a tough cookie to crack. “Joseph, you have to be kidding. How can a baker like me help you on a case?” You say, doubting yourself.
“Remember how that psychic brain of yours helped me out?” He jogs your memory, trying to convince you. “There’s this case about missing pets. And no—it’s nothing like Remi. At first, we thought it was just them running away, or careless owners. But we’ve noticed some patterns. We think it’s much bigger than that, and we’d like your help.” He explains, proposing his idea also. “I know it’s a lot, but you’d be a great help. Please?” He pleads, looking down at you with those big, hopeful eyes. How could you say no to him?
“…Promise I won’t get into any trouble?” You ask, already knowing the answer. He looks down at you with that cheeky grin of his, “Of course not. I promise I’ll be there to protect you.” His words cause your ears to flush slightly, yet he doesn’t notice because of your hair. “Okay then. I’ll do it.” He smiles widely, almost tempted to hug you but holds it back. “You’re the best, you know? I’ll make sure this’ll be your most bizarre memory yet!”
“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t expect me to start drinking coffee and eating donuts like you guys.” He feigns offense, a hand flying to his chest. “Well, in my defense—cops are the ones who usually do that. And I’m no ordinary cop, kay?” He notices how silly he sounds and cuts himself off with a hearty chuckle. “I’ll catch ya later. Night and don’t let the bed bugs bite.” He takes a few steps back, you wave. “Night, Jojo… thanks for walking me.” He dramatically bows, “It’s my pleasure! See ya.”
1:37 AM Wednesday
You’re tossing around your bed, unable to sleep. You think it’s because of Josephs’ crazy proposal, but no. It’s Joseph. You can’t seem to get him out of your head, and the thought of him has you feeling hot and bothered. It’s like you have an itch to scratch, but have no idea where it’s coming from. But you do, you’re just trying to ignore it.
Between your legs.
You try hard to ignore the fact that you want to masturbate to the thought of your friend. But the latter wins, so you get up from your bed—looking for your vibrator. You walk over to your dresser, looking for it in your panty drawer, but can’t seem to find it. You groan, walking over to the bathroom to check if it’s there, and spoiler alert: it's not. Walking back to your room, you remember about the pink dildos you and your friends bought back in high school.
Giggling to yourself at the thought, you find yourself looking for it through your closet. You find a bunch of things as you rummage around your closet. Old exes' hoodies, random storage containers, a taser?? After a while of searching, you finally find it, holding it up like it hung the moon.
“Am I really doing this?” Yup. Yes, you are.
After washing it many times, you finally lay back down on your bed, dildo in hand. Lube wasn’t necessary, considering how wet you had already gotten from the thought of him.
Pathetic. Filthy. Disgusting. Shame. Is what you feel, but the need to touch yourself is too strong.
You open your legs, so you’re in a frog-like position. Rubbing the cold tip from your clit to your folds has you jolting slightly. You imagine it’s Joseph.
“Fuck…” You prod the toy at your entrance, trying to get it in after not using it for so long. Your breath hitches slightly once you get the tip in, then two more inches. “Mm—! Fuck…” Your thighs clench over your hand once you finally get the whole thing in. You begin to move the toy in and out, feeling the veins of it drag along your sensitive walls.
“Mmh—! Fuck, it’s so good, Joseph.” You pick up the pace, the filthy sounds of sloshing and slapping fills up your room. “S’good… o—oh my god!” Your breathing fastens, head falls back onto your pillow as your eyes close. You continue to drag the toy cock along your walls, but something is missing. Him.
You imagine it’s Joseph slamming his hips against yours, balls against your ass—fucking you absolutely dumb. “You’re being so good for me, baby. You like it when I fuck you stupid, huh? Taking my cock soooo… fuckin’ good.” You imagine him saying, and the thought makes you clench even more. You quicken your pace, whimpering his name and rubbing your clit at the same time.
The combo makes you feel like you’re in heaven. As you chase your edge, the tip of it prods perfectly against that spongy spot inside you, making you fall over the edge and your cum down your legs. “Hnngh—! S’good, damn it…” You lie there like a ragdoll, still and breathless. You glance down at the mess between your legs, the slick and cum running down your thighs and ass. The imagination of it being a mix of yours and Josephs’ mess—makes you clench around nothing.
11:13 AM, Wednesday
Joseph had a day off today, and so did you. So, he had texted you earlier to come by his place to talk about the case. You’re practically fidgeting with anything that you can find as you walk over to his apartment. I mean—how are you supposed to face your friend when you literally came to the thought of him.
Once you walk up to his place, you lift your finger, pressing the button and call for his place. “Hello?” His voice rings through the intercom. “It’s me, Jojo. Open up.” You respond, and the second your voice hits his ears—you hear a buzzing sound, indicating that he has unlocked the door for you.
Opening the door, you’re hit with a scent of cigarettes and vanilla. Cigarettes make sense for a New York apartment, but vanilla? Probably teenage girls spraying their perfume before school. You shake the thought from your head, focusing on what’s ahead. Which are flights of stairs. Joseph had told you he lived on the top floor. There are 10 floors.
Ten. Floors.
No elevator.
He had said earlier that the elevator broke down, so you could mentally and physically prepare yourself before. And you did. You were pretty confident before coming here. Easy peasy, right?
Wrong.
You’re already on the third floor and felt like you had run a ten mile marathon. “There’s no way I’m doing this without passing out.” You say to yourself, sweat beading on your forehead. I’m a woman, I can do this. You think to yourself, never wanting to give men the satisfaction of victory.
You go girl!
After seven more floors, you finally make it to Joseph’s apartment door. You knock on his door with a trembling fist, already imagining how you’re going to kill him. He opens the door, dressed casually and hair less styled. “Oh, hey! You made it.” He greets you happily as if you didn’t just climb Mount Everest. You’re about to lightly snap at him for making you climb so many stairs, but you can’t even form a thought because he looks so good.
“Hellooo? Earth to—” he calls, but you interrupt him. “Shut up. I’m just trying to regain my consciousness after climbing so many damn stairs. Did we really have to do this at your place?” You ask, partly because of the stairs, but also because of the thought of being in his place with him. Alone. Makes you feel warm and tingly.
“Sorry, I didn’t think the stairs would be such a huge issue. Come in, I’ll get you something to drink.” He offers, opening the door more to let you in. You step inside, toeing off your shoes at the entrance. He closes the door behind you, leading you to the kitchen.
“What do you want? Name your poison and I can guarantee I’ve got it.” He says proudly like he’s some type of drink plug. “Let me get a Baja blast Mountain Dew.” You say in an attempt to mess with him. There’s no way he’d have a drink so specific like that, right?
He pulls a can from his fridge, sliding it across the counter to you. You catch it, reading the label—and it’s in fact, a Baja blast Mountain Dew. He smirks at you confidently as usual, “What? Thought I didn’t have it?” He chuckles, gesturing for you to follow him to the couch.
You both settle on the couch and Joseph notices your legs… they look extra shiny and soft—he’s so tempted to touch them, hitch them around his waist and fuck you nasty. He coughs, turning his focus to the folders on the coffee table rather than your legs. “So, uhh let me tell you about this crazy pet case.” He says, trying to change the subject in his mind.
“So,” he begins, grabbing one of the folders from the table and opening it. “We had this report from a few weeks ago. Missing dog on Mason Street at around 1 AM. At first we all thought it was your ordinary missing animal case.” He says while looking at the folder, but picks up his gaze to meet yours. “But we’ve been getting more reports around the same area and time, and we don’t think it’s a coincidence anymore.”
He places the folder back down on the table, turning to you with a seriousness in his eyes. “That’s why I recommend your help to the station. They said it was alright as long as I don’t tell you too much.” You nod, “So… you really trust me with this?” You ask, feeling quite small and doubtful.
His hand moves to your leg to bring you support, noticing your small voice. Yet, he falters and places the hand on your shoulder, not fully trusting himself. “Look, you’re the smartest person I know. I wouldn’t have told you if I didn’t really believe in you.” He gives you that dashing smile that he knows always works on you. “Trust me, kay?”
You find yourself melting under his touch and believing his words. “Alright then. Let’s do this.” He squeezes your shoulder briefly, giving you his signature smirk. “There she is. Now that’s what I’m talking about.”
1:26 PM Wednesday
The two of you work on the case for a while, making theories and tossing out possibilities that sound ridiculous. You sigh, throwing yourself back onto the cushion of the couch. “How do detectives do this all the time? I literally wanna rip my hair out.” He chuckles at your annoyed attitude, plopping down on the couch next to you.
“You’re exactly how I was at the beginning. It’s a canon event.” He recalls old memories, thinking back on how he struggled on his first case. “If you wanna take a break, we totally can. Remember, you’re only helping out because you want to. Not because you have to.” He reassures you gently, making you feel slightly better. “Thanks, Jojo. You’re really nice when you want to be.”
“Only to my favorite girl.” It rips out like a confession. Like he truly meant it.
Because he did. Joseph never really believed in love. He always thought it was a ridiculous thing. Sure he fucked around here and there, girls confessed to him—hell even dated a bit. But those girls never meant anything—not until he met you at least.
Six years ago
It was his freshman year of college, and he had been walking to the TA’s desk to ask them a simple question. Unbeknownst to Joseph since he was literally paying attention to his phone and nothing else, he bumped into a girl—you.
You stumbled backwards a bit, but he caught you—placing his hand at the small of your back to stabilize you. “Shit—my bad. That was on me.” He apologized, removing his hand from your back once you were stable. You lift your head to get a better look at him. He's got broad shoulders, a toned body, messy brown hair, and an apologetic grin on his face.
“You’re fine… it was a simple mistake.” You reassured him.
His normal grin returns to his face as he realizes you aren’t some annoying, stuck-up, smart student. That isn’t the only thing that he realizes though. He realizes how beautiful you are, making his heart feel strange—a feeling he’s never felt.
‘Is this what love feels like?’ He thinks to himself.
After that, he always stuck by you. He did practically everything with you. Studied, ranted, laughed, loved. All of that was only for you. He obviously did nothing about it though because his pride was too high, and also because he thought you’d never see him like that and he was scared to lose you. And you didn’t, not until recently that is.
1:28 PM Wednesday
“Only to my favorite girl.”
“What?” You ask, feeling your cheeks flush. That sight doesn’t go unnoticed by Joseph either. He leans in closer, his shoulder slightly touching yours and his breath tickling your face. “You feel it too, right?” He whispers, leaning in a bit more.
“Look—” he starts, but is cut off by a phone call. “Fuck… gimme a second.” He pulls back, picking up his phone and walking to the kitchen to answer the call—leaving you completely dumbfounded and fuzzy on his couch.
‘What the absolute fuck was that? Did he just—? What is happening?! He’s gotta be messing with me. There’s no way.’ You ramble in your head not noticing that Joseph is walking back to the couch. “So… I actually gotta head into the station.” He says casually like what happened 5 minutes ago didn’t happen. “But I thought you had the day off?”
“I did, but it’s about the missing pets case. They need my help.” He answers your confusion, pulling on his jacket and his shoes. “You can leave whenever you wanna, but I should go now. See ya.” He gives a halfhearted wave before closing the front door. ‘Seriously? He just left as if he didn’t have my heart racing like crazy! What is his issue?’
After a while of just sitting there with your heart and mind racing, you decide to finally get up and head back home.
8:49 PM Friday
It had already been two days since that day and you haven’t seen Joseph at all. Sure, you heard from him here and there—not like he totally ghosted you. But with Josephs’ wild and loud personality, he might as well be.
You had just begun cleaning the tables in your bakery when Joseph walked in. “Yo, got anything left for me?” He asks, referring to any desserts or drinks. “I still gotta do the dishes, mop the floor, prep my foods, and count money. Pick your choice.” You say sarcastically, unable to hide the bitterness in your tone. Of course it doesn’t go unnoticed by Joseph, but he chooses to ignore it. “Ha ha, very funny. Seriously though, got anything left?”
“Just go in the back and grab whatever.” You say, resuming your cleaning. He gives you a small grin and walks over to the back to grab whatever dessert his heart desires.
He comes back with a plateful of diabetes, but it doesn’t even phase you anymore. He’s practically a vacuum. “So… you've been busy or something? You haven’t really stopped by lately.” You question him, seeing what story he’ll pull out of his ass. “Yup, been pretty busy.” He says, sitting down at the table you’re currently cleaning.
“Especially with this case and all.” He talks around the bite of his pumpkin roll. “That’s actually what I came here to talk to you about. I’ve got some new information and wanted to see what you had to say about it.” Of course he did. Of course that’s the only thing he came here for. Not to ease your mind or anything.
“So, what’s new?” You ask as you finish wiping down the last table, sitting across from him. “We’ve gotten reports on how the suspect looks. It’s an old lady, looks like she’s in her 50s. Not many of the reports were able to describe her too well except for two.” He shifts in his seat, taking a sip of his coffee before continuing.
“Both say she’s got light ginger hair to about her shoulders and small lips—also said she’s got paw prints on her shoes. Left footprints on someone’s step before.” He describes the lady’s features and appearance. “So, what do you think?” He asks, awaiting your response. “I think it’s kind of ridiculous that a few detectives can’t figure out a simple missing pets case.” You say sarcastically, earning a small huff from his lips. “C’mon, just take this seriously, yeah?”
Surprised by his sudden serious nature, you decide to just give in. “Fine, you wanna know what I think? If these cases are all happening around the same area and time… I think she’s gotta live around the area as well. Some old lady can’t walk around at night if she lives far away.” You catch your breath before beginning again.
“I think she’s gotta be connected to all of these people somehow. She seems to be around the same age as all of the victims as well. Maybe it’s revenge or something.” You say, wondering if maybe this lady might know her victims personally.
“That’s… actually not too bad, considering some of them saying she looked familiar.” He swallows the last bit of whatever he was eating, sipping the last bit of his drink. He stands up, pushing his chair in. You look up, wondering where he’s going. “What are you doing?”
“I’m heading back to the station?” He states like it’s no big deal. “Really? You’re not gonna stay a while?” He shrugs, “No… what’s the point?”
What’s the point?
He walks over to the door, giving a half-assed wave. “I’ll see ya later. Be safe walking home.” And just like that—he leaves you dumbfounded once more.
10:27 PM Friday
Closing the door behind you, you toe off your shoes and walk over to your couch, plopping down on it and closing your eyes. You think back on how Joseph acted back at your bakery. He was so… irritating.
Why was he acting as if I did something wrong?
He just acted like there’s nothing happening between us.
Or am I the only one feeling this way? Confused and… heartbroken??
11:17 PM Friday
Joseph is currently sitting at his desk, working on another case. He actually seems… focused for once. His fellow detectives glance at him like he’s wearing some clown costume. His gaze falls over to them briefly before turning back to his work.
“What are you guys staring at?”
“You’re actually working for once…” One of them speaks up, a knowing smirk on their face. “Let me guess—your girl broke up with you?” That makes Joseph falter slightly. “She’s not my girl.” He says defensively. “Ohh, so there is one.”
Shit.
“Even if there was one, I wouldn’t have to tell you guys. Mind your own.” He says, sassily, might they add. “Whatever, man. Just don’t miss your shot, yeah?” That person pats him on the shoulder, walking back to their desk.
Just don’t miss your shot, yeah?
He shakes off the thought while his gaze falls to the other two who are still standing there with knowing smiles. “Shoo. Leave me alone—I’m working.” And they do, just not without giggling of course.
9:18 PM Thursday
It had been a week since Joseph had been acting more strangely than usual. You’re growing absolutely sick of it. Surprisingly though, he had invited you over to his place—but only to talk about the case.
Of course.
You knock on his door, fidgeting with the strap of your bag. After a few seconds of standing there, Joseph opens the door. He looks annoyingly sexy with the way his sweatpants hang low on his hips, and how his biceps are basically ripping through his shirt.
“Hey.”
“Hi, come in…”
Talk about awkward
You walk in normally, toeing off your shoes at the entryway per usual. “Want anything to drink?” He asks in an attempt to fill the awkward tension. “Nope,” you answer. “I’m all good.” He simply nods stiffly and gestures for you to follow him to the couch. You sit down close to him, his knee brushing against yours.
“So, what do you have to tell me?” You say, and it sounds like there’s a double meaning. “Nothing much. Just got a few more reports about the pet thief looking familiar—wanted to let you know.” You nod, gesturing for him to continue.
He tells you more about the case and the lady, yet your focus seems to be on something else. He notices and pauses, turning his gaze to you. “Yo, are you listening?” He asks, slightly annoyed. “If you don’t wanna do this you can just go home.”
“Go home? So then you can keep acting weird?” You finally snap, his behavior from the past week setting you off. He blinks, clearly caught off guard by your words. “Tch, acting weird? What on earth are you talking about?” He 100% knows what you mean, but we already know his pride is too high or he’s just ashamed.
“What am I talking about? Don’t bullshit me, Joseph. You’ve been acting weird ever since you said that… thing.” He drops the folder onto the table, turning to you more. “Thing? What thing?” He asks, although he might already have an idea.
“When you called me your favorite girl, damn it!” You’re now sitting on the edge of his couch, the frustration from the week getting to you. “Then after that, you leaned in like you were going to kiss me—but then brushed it off like nothing happened! Like it was nothing…” You snap, your expression seems annoyed and frustrated—yet the glint of hurt in your eyes doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Like it was nothing?” He repeats your words. “That’s where you’re wrong. It never meant nothing to me. You never meant nothing.” He confesses, his gaze on the floor before picking it up to yours. He notices the hitch in your breath, your expression softening.
‘Fuck it.’ He thinks.
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to not think of you every single second of my damn day? I thought if I could just throw myself into work, it’d help me forget about my crazy crush for you.” He confesses but doesn’t stop.
“I’ve been practically obsessed with you ever since we met. I’ve—god! I’ve imagined how amazing it would be to have you. I already have my goddamn life planned out. I—I love you! And not just like a friend. I want to marry you, and I of course haven’t planned it out yet because I know how much you’d love to plan your own wedding!”
He chokes up on his words a bit. “The only request I make is that we take pictures on the Brooklyn Bridge—you wearing an apron while I’m in a full stereotypical detective outfit, representing your love for baking and mine for mysteries. I wanna have children with you. And yeah—no set number on how many because you’d be the woman of the house. I’d follow whatever you’d say—because I love you, damn it…”
“You consume me. You’ve been consuming me for the damn six years I’ve known you!” He states with a small tremble in his voice, jaw tightening. “I know I was wrong for how I acted this week. But I was scared. Scared if I had taken it too far and feared you would hate me.” He says, voice softer now.
“I love you so goddamn much it’s killing me inside.” He notices the way you’re just sitting there. Mouth agape and eyes misty from his words. “What? Just gonna stare at me like I’m craz—”
You cut him off with your lips to his—it’s sudden and messy. You’re pulling him in by his collar, he’s hands on the small of your back and the couch to stabilize himself. It starts off slow at first—more soft and gentle rather than sloppy. But that doesn’t last long the second Joseph pulls you to straddle his hips.
His hands fly to your waist while your arms wrap loosely around his neck. He nips on your bottom lip, tongue soothing over it. Fingers ghosting around the exposed skin where your shirt rides up a bit, yours in his hair. He groans against your lips at the feeling of your soft fingers in his hair.
“Fuck—keep doing that. Feels good.” He murmurs against your lips, tongue darting out to swipe across your bottom lip, a silent plea. You easily oblige, opening your mouth slightly—and he wastes no time. He practically shoots his tongue into your mouth, and feeling your warmness against his makes him want to cum on the spot.
Your teeth are clashing together, the desire to feel each other is too strong. “Fuck, c—can I move?” You ask to grind against him hesitantly, and god it feels pathetic. “Mmf—of course, I’m all yours.” You press your lips to his jaw, moving down to his neck as you grind helplessly on his hard and clothed cock.
He leans his head back onto the couch to give you more access, although it was already on its way there by the feeling of you moving on top of him. “F—Fuck… don’t stop. You feel so good, baby…”
“Baby?”
“What, don’t like it?” He asks with a small huff of a chuckle.
You shake your head with a small smile on your face, continuing your work of art. And by work of art—it’s the marks that your lips have been making across his neck. His hips meet yours as you grind, his boner hitting your clit juuusst right. “O—Oh my god…” you gasp against his neck. His hands drop to your ass as he notices the way you squirm.
He guides you as you grind down on him—slow and filthy, the friction between you two making you feel all buzzed up. “J—Joseph…” you arch up against him. “C’mon, cutie. You got this… cum for me.” Your orgasm hits hard, soaking through your pants which seep down to his—making a dark grey spot on his sweatpants.
He looks down at the mess and chuckles, “Fuuckk… that’s really hot, you know.” Your cheeks flush, hiding them in the crook of his neck. “Shut up, idiot…” He simply leans in to whisper in your ear. “We’re not done, you know?” And just like that—he’s picking you up and walking over to his bedroom. You wrap your legs around his waist, slightly nervous for what’s to come (you and him).
“Wait, you’re serious about this?” You ask as he lays you down on his bed which smells like mahogany and teakwood. He crawls on top of you, “I’ve been serious about this ever since we met.” His expression softens, the desire and hunger leaving for just a second. “We can always stop if you don’t wanna though. There’s no pressure.”
“No.” You say quickly, revealing how much you really want this. “I want you, Joseph. I need you.”
“You have me. Always had.” He kisses from your neck down to your abdomen, kneeling between your thighs. He moves lower, looking up at you. “Can I?” You nod, despite your heart pounding like crazy. He pulls down your pants and takes them off fully, revealing your cute and soft pink panties. He pushes your legs apart as his nose digs into your clothed pussy, making your hips jolt to his face.
“Fuuck, jus’ seeing you like this makes me wanna fuck you like crazy.” He confesses so casually. He looks up with a silent question and you nod. He pulls down your panties, and the second they’re off his face is buried in your pussy. “Fuck, baby… you’re all I’ve ever dreamed of.”
“Joseph… quit teasing and just do it already…” You plead and he’s gentle—but messy. His tongue finally settles on you, dragging through your folds messily and hungry. Your hands fly to his hair, tugging slightly. “Mm, fuck yeah.. keep pulling on me like that. You taste so good—mmh.”
And you do every time his tongue plunges inside you and curls perfectly or when he nips at your clit. “Fuck—! Joseph, feels s’fucking good…” You can’t see his smirk, but you can feel it against your pussy. His tongue slides from your clit to your entrance, plunging it inside you to meet that spongy spot.
“Shit! Don’t stop, Jojo. Fuck—m’gonna cum just like this…” He’s tasting every inch of you and absolutely savoring it. “You taste so fucking good, baby. Gonna make you cum all over my fucking face, then my cock. Mm? How does that sound?”
“Joseph—fuck! It sounds perfect, god. Please make me cum, Joseph… I need it.” Your hips grind against his face, chasing that high. “Mmh—that’s it, baby. Use me like I’m your goddamn toy.” He notices the way you're trembling, indicating that the finishing line is right there. “Cum for me, sweets. Make a mess all over my tongue.” You do the second the tip of his tongue dances perfectly around your clit.
Your back is arched off of the bed, thighs clenched tight around his head as your juices flood into his mouth. He groans, the vibrations making you tremble just a bit more, but not as much as the way he slurps up your mess. He pulls back once you’ve relaxed, your slick over his mouth and chin.
“You’re so fucking messy, you know that? My messy girl.” He declares, hints of possessiveness in his words. He moves his head from in between your legs, crawling up to you so you’re now face to face. He leans in to kiss you again, this one more precise and gentle—softer.
He pulls back just enough to look at you and the way you look absolutely stunning. Hair sticking to your sweaty forehead, flushed cheeks, and that damn glint in your eyes. “What?” You ask with a soft smile.
“You’re just so beautiful. That’s all.” Your smile falters, not expecting his sweet words. You’re about to say something back, maybe witty or something to make him laugh—but you notice how his breathing is still faster than usual, and his large boner prodding against your thigh.
“Joseph?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you wanna fuck me?”
His eyes shoot open in surprise at your blunt words. “Wha—? I mean—uhh, yeah? Only if you really want to though.” He says, looking way more awkward than usual.
“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want it, Jojo.” He nods, “Right… I’ll go see if I have any condom—” He’s already on the move when you stop him short, grabbing him by his arm. “There’s no need for those. I’m on birth control.”
He drags a hand down his face. “Are you serious?” When you nod, he chuckles against the crook of your neck. “You’re absolutely crazy, you know that?” He pulls back just enough to catch your gaze.
“You really trust me with this?” He asks, his tone slightly doubtful. You simply look up at him with a soft glint of affection in your eyes, cupping his cheek. “I’d trust you with my life,” saying with a soft laugh. You don’t realize how hard it hits Joseph though.
“Damn it… you’re ruining me.” Your soft and trusting words hit the target perfectly on his heart. “I won’t disappoint you. Promise.” He says with his dashing smile, one you couldn’t stop thinking of for weeks.
He pulls his sweatpants off in a swift motion, grinding his boxer-covered cock against your bare pussy briefly. “Fuck… you’re perfect, baby.” He leans back just enough to pull off his boxers as well.
Oh. My. God.
You’d imagine he was packing, but this is just another level. He was like eight inches or ten?? You couldn’t tell by the way you were so prepared to get fucked out. It was beautiful. Then with how fat and girthy it looked? You were fucked. Literally.
He notices the way you gaze falls down to his long and fat cock. He chuckles, “Liking the view?”
“Who wouldn’t? God…” You say, never seeing such a cock this amazing in person before. He leans down to whisper in your ear. “Just trust me, alright?” And of course you do, cause the second he rubs his fat cock between your soaking folds—making slosh noises fill up the room? You melt in his arms.
“Mmh—Joseph…” You squirm under his touch. Your slick soaking his shaft, “Fuck—you feel so good…” Joseph gasps out. His precum spills over your clit, the warm sensation sets your nerves tingling like fireworks through your body.
“You ready?” Joseph asks. You nod, breathing heavier than a damn dog. “Y—Yeah, I’m ready.” With that, he prods the mushroom head against your entrance, feeling how you tense up.
He slowly fills you up, two inches in already. “Fuck.. it’s like you were made for me. You good?” You nod, eyes closed from the absolute ecstasy flowing through your bones. “Look at me, sweets. I wanna see you as I fill you up all nice.”
You open your eyes, meeting his pretty blue ones. “Keep going, Joseph. F—Fuck!” You squeal, feeling him fill you up even more. He keeps going, filling you up inch by inch. Joseph feels you squirming slightly under his touch, so he intertwines your fingers together to avoid that.
He hitches your right leg around his waist, ready to pound into the perfect angle. He pulls out just so the tip is right at your entrance, then pushes in deeply at the right pace. “Mm—! Oh my god, fuck. Keep going..”
“Wasn’t planning on stopping, cutie.” He continues that same pace, his balls slapping against your ass and your slick arousal. schlick! schlick! schlick! “Fuuuckk, you’re so warm and tight, gonna milk me dry.”
“Ngh—s’too deep..” Joseph muffles your erotic noises by leaning down to kiss you, dancing his warm tongue against yours. You gasp into his mouth, tasting your orgasm and a hint of raspberry.
A mix of whimpering and soft groans fill your ears. “Fuuck, I’m so close, sweets. So warm and squishy.. squeezing me so perfect. Gonna paint your insides all nice and white.”
“Josephhh—!” You’re cut off by a sharp thrust and Joseph spilling inside you. You follow after with a sharp gasp, coating his long shaft. “Shit—s’fucking good. You’re amazing..” He caresses your cheek, looking down at you lovingly.
Your cheeks flush slightly, ‘Why the heck is he looking at me like that?’ You thought to yourself. “What are you looking at?” You had meant to sound more sharp, but it came out soft and uncertain. “Sorry… you’re just really pretty.” He says, placing a sweet kiss to your forehead.
“You okay? I didn’t go too far, right?” You nod quietly, feeling a small bliss in your chest. “That’s good…” He says quietly, finally pulling out of you with a soft whimper. He lies next to you, suddenly feeling everything rush in at once.
‘I can’t believe that just happened. I’ve liked her for so long—but we’ve been friends for so long too. What if things go bad—or awkward?!’ You turn towards him, lifting yourself up on your elbow.
You notice how he’s turned quieter, a vast difference to his usual self. After a while of thinking, you lean in and place a soft kiss to his cheek. “You were good too, Joseph. All I’ve ever… wanted.” You say softly, meeting his gaze.
His eyes slightly widen, but soften quickly. “I’m glad… really glad.” He grins, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you in so you rest on his chest.
“Jo—?”
“Shh… just be quiet. Can’t believe I’m having this now.” He tugs you just a bit closer, loving the feel of you in his arms. “We can wash up later. Just let me have this.” And you do, allowing yourself to relax in his arms.
TWO WEEKS LATER
11:28 AM Wednesday
It had been about two weeks since that night, and it hasn’t left your mind since. You and Joseph had gone onto two dates ever since you guys got together, so you guys can get into that flow of dating and not just being friends.
The first few days were weird. Joseph tried to be more romantic and touchy, yet you were still getting used to everything. It still feels kinda odd, but you’re determined to figure it out for yourself.
“Thank you and have a great day!” You say, sending off one of your customers. You notice how everything has slowed down, so you start to prepare for some things. You go into the back and grab a halfway filled packet of flour.
You’re about to put the packet down onto the counter when someone calls out for you. With a sigh, you keep the packet in your arms—thinking it’ll be something quick and walk over to whoever called you.
You see a lady around your age, gesturing for you to come over, so you do. “Hi, what can I help you with?” You ask, hoping this won’t take too long. “Oh, I was just wondering how you made this walnut pie. It’s so delicious, and I would love to find out the recipe.”
You sigh internally, knowing that this walnut pie is a piece of shit to make, considering how you do almost everything from scratch. “Well, of course I could tell you. Maybe just find something to put this all down on.” You softly smiled, but wanting to go back in time and leave this packet of flour in the back.
11:53 AM Wednesday
You had been talking to this woman for 25 minutes. Twenty-five. While also holding a pretty hefty packet of flour, this woman just won’t stop asking questions. Your arms felt like jelly, sweat prickled at your forehead, while your foot tapped against the ground uncontrollably.
You were about to hitch the packet back up against your chest since it kept falling, but due to your flimsy arms—you ended up spilling the flour on the floor.
Shit.
You first look around, checking if anyone has gotten dirty with the flour. “Shoot, I’m so sorry. I’ll be back with a broom.” You excuse yourself and head to the back so you can grab some things to clean the mess.
Once you exit the back, you notice a customer has come in. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’ll get to you once this is all cleaned up.”
“Oh, honey… let me help you.” The old lady offers, but you shake your head. “No, it’s okay. I’ve got it.” The lady insists and holds onto the broom. “Please, let me help you.” With a soft sigh, you nod and dust off some remaining flour off of your apron.
As she sweeps, you grab her order. Once her order is all ready, you place it onto the table and take the broom from her once she’s all ready. “Here you go. It’s on the house, so don’t worry.” She gives you a kind smile and thanks you.
You put the broom back, and head back to the register. You notice how well the lady swept your floor. It probably hasn’t looked this good since you bought the place. You build up the courage to go up to the lady and ask how she cleans so well.
“Excuse me, ma’am, but how are you so good at sweeping? I don’t think I’ve seen it this clean in ages.” You confess with slight sheepishness as she politely chuckles. “I’ve got a lot of pets back in my house. There’s always fur somewhere.” Your eyebrows shoot up slightly in recognition, nodding as you realize where her skills come from.
“You must have a bunch. It seriously looks amazing.”
8:47 PM Wednesday
You had just closed up the bakery and began to prepare for the next day, wiping down tables and grabbing ingredients for the croissants that needed to be prepared. You were washing your hands in the back when you heard a knock on the door.
Wiping your hands on your apron, you go to check and your eyes fall onto Joseph’s charming grin—gesturing for you to open the door.
You walk over to the door, unlocking it and opening it up. It almost resembles a lion’s den opening up to pounds of meat, the way Joseph immediately clings to you.
“Well, if it isn’t my amazing, sweet, and beautiful girlfriend. How is she feeling on this fine evening?” He questions, his hands immediately finding your waist and pulling you to press your body against his.
Your hands lie on his chest as you look down at your nails, suddenly feeling shy. “I’m doing fine… and you?” He chuckles softly, removing one hand from your waist to lift up your head. With a quiet sigh you meet his eyes, expecting for him to tease you—but his eyes are soft and understanding.
“Look… I know this is new, but you don't gotta be shy with me. If you want me to back off, I can.” You immediately shake your head, focusing your gaze on his. “No, no it’s fine. I can’t lie and say that it doesn’t feel weird, but it’s not like I don’t want it.”
“Good,” he says, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “I probably wasn’t going to stop anyway.” You let out a small chuckle, feeling slightly relaxed.
“Of course you wouldn’t. You’re too clingy for that.” His nose immediately scrunches up with feigned offense. “I am not clingy. Take that back.” He says, shaking your body softly as if he’s trying to shake the words out of you.
“Mm-mm, I’m not taking back what’s true.” You say with a cheeky grin. He looks like he’s about to either tickle you or bombard you with kisses, but you both hear a ding from the back.
“Oh, c’mon. Those should be the egg tarts.” Strangely, you grab his hand and lead him towards the back, and he of course follows with no issue.
Joseph stands near the counter as you grab the oven mitts to grab the egg tarts. You open the oven, a wave of heat falling over your face. You grab the tarts and place them over a rag to cool off on the counter.
As they cool, you tweak a few things—making them look picture perfect. While you do that, a cheeky little thing called Joseph, walks up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist—resting his chin on your shoulder.
“Mm… smells delicious. Can I get one?” He asks, despite already moving his hand to grab one. You softly swat his hand away, “It’s gotta cool off, idiot. Just wait a second.” He huffs and nuzzles into the crook of your neck. “My girlfriend is so cruel to me. My heart is breaking…”
You ignore his dramatics and continue to work on the egg tarts. He huffs even louder, then presses open mouthed kisses on your neck. Your breath hitches slightly, the feeling of his tongue on your neck making your knees feel weak.
“Jojo, quit it…” you say despite your head tilting slightly to the side to give him more access. “I don’t wanna though,” he murmurs against your neck. “I’m trying to work…” you try to reason, but feel your resolve slipping.
“You can handle both. It’s called multitasking.” You roll your eyes at his cheeky tone, but a small gasp leaves your lips once his land onto the sensitive part of your neck. Despite wanting to let go right here and let him fuck you against the wall, you know you have bigger things to deal with than his cock.
“I’m serious, Jojo. Let’s… do it later, yeah?” You boldly say, and that grabs Joseph’s attention in an instant. “Later, hmm? I’m holding you to that.” He says, pinching your hip lightly just to make you squirm.
9:34 PM Wednesday
Joseph stayed near you as you finished up your work. You put your apron to hang near your little locker, then pull on your jacket and grab your bag. “Ready to go? I’ll walk you home.” You nod and walk up to him so the two of you can head out.
Joseph is about to grab your hand when he notices some footprints on the floor. “Dude, do you never clean up? It’s so messy.” Confused, you look down to where his eyes are and find some light floury footprints. You think back on the day and realize they were probably the old lady’s.
“Oh, some lady helped me clean up earlier. Probably didn’t realize she had some flour on her shoes. Gimme a second, I’ll clean it—”
“Wait.”
“Hm? What’s wrong?” You look at Joseph with a furrowed brow. Why the heck wasn’t he letting you clean it up? He crouches down and looks at the footprint closely. “Hey uhh, do you remember what the lady looked like?”
You find his demeanor odd, but comply anyway. You think back on your day and the lady’s look. “She had pretty short, ginger hair, uhh green eyes, and some small lips. Why do you ask?”
Everything clicks for Joseph once you describe her. “I think that might’ve been the suspect. Look at these prints,” he points. “They have a sorta paw print shape, and remember how said that’s what the witnesses said they saw?”
You think back to a few weeks ago: “Both say she’s got light ginger hair to about her shoulders and small lips—also said she’s got paw prints on her shoes. Left footprints on someone’s step before.”
‘Shit. She was literally in my bakery, and I just let her go. What the fuck is wrong with me?’ You think to yourself. You were mad with Joseph at the time, so his words didn’t fully settle until now.
“You have cameras, right? Do they work?” You nod, already leading him towards the back to check the cameras. Joseph checks everything out, asking you questions about when she came in, and if she said anything suspicious.
You answer everything clearly, feeling absolutely guilty for letting the lady go. Joseph takes everything he needs and turns back to you. He places his hands on your shoulders, coaxing you to meet his gaze.
“C’mon, baby… look at me.” You meet his eyes, and his eyes fall over your drooped eyes and that small pout. “You don’t need to feel responsible for this, okay? There was nothing you could have done, so don’t worry.”
“But I could’ve called for—”
“Shh… it’s not your problem to deal with.” He tugs you closer, holding you close to his chest and letting his chin sit on the crown of your head. “I’m sorry… I could’ve made your job way easier if I had called.”
“None of that… you’re still helping regardless, you know? Who knows how much longer we could’ve been stuck on this if you didn’t drop that flour.” He teases lightly, trying to lift your mood.
A huff of laughter escapes your lips, then you pull back enough to look at him. “I guess you’re right…”
“I always am.”
You roll your eyes at his smugness, despite a smile creeping onto your face. “You’re such a loser.”
“Your loser,” and he seals it in with a soft peck.
3:29 PM Saturday
Joseph had turned in the evidence and questioned many of the previous witnesses and victims. Many of them recognized the lady as someone they went to school with. They described her as someone who was constantly fighting for animals, and some strict vegan.
Apparently she always babbled about how animals are always treated cruelly, and needed to be the rulers of the world like how they used to.
In other words, a total cuckoo.
He had gotten the lady’s address and prepared to take her in. He gathered a few of his colleagues just in case he needed backup and animal control.
5:23 PM Saturday
Joseph knocked on the lady’s door, seemingly all innocent. The lady opens the door with a kind smile, the total opposite of a cuckoo. “Hi, what can I help you with?” She asks, looking at Joseph carefully.
“Afternoon, ma’am. I have a warrant to check your house.” The lady tilts her head, looking confused. “A warrant? Why would you need to look at my house?”
“There’s a case that I’m working on, and I believe your house could be connected. Please step aside.” Joseph steps in, causing her to stumble slightly.
He looks around as the lady tries to reason with him.
Too many bowls.
Fur everywhere.
But no animals in sight.
He looks over at the basement door, and the lady freezes. “Detective, I have some very personal things down there, so I’d rather you not go.”
“Personal or not, this is a very serious case and I have a warrant.” The lady tries to stop him, but since she’s slightly old she’s unable to catch up. Joseph speeds down the stairs and his eyes lie on many cages.
They were all stacked up on each other, three cats smushed into one while two medium sized dogs in another. There had to have been at least 30 pets in here. The living space was horrible, but at least they looked well cared for.
But you couldn’t have cats, dogs, bunnies, hamsters, and surprisingly, bearded dragons all together in one place. It looked like a nightmare.
“I—I, sir, you shouldn’t be down here.” She attempts to usher him upstairs, but it’s too late. Joseph pins the lady against the wall, grabbing his cuffs. “Ms. Lynn, you are under arrest for the theft of animals.” He reads out all of her rights to her and calls for backup to collect all of these animals.
“You can’t put me in jail! My babies need their mother! They need a home!” She freaks as Joseph leads her to the car. “Those animals aren’t your pets, ma’am. You took them from their home.”
She attempts to wriggle from his grasp, absolutely causing a scene in the neighborhood. “Those shitheads don’t deserve them! T—They’re just people who keep their pets as decorations! They don’t really care about them! Give me my babies!”
“That’s enough, ma’am. You’re causing a scene.”
Joseph puts her into the car and closes the door. ‘What a psycho..’ he thinks and turns to the officers, directing them to grab the animals and take them back to their rightful owners.
A MONTH LATER
11:13 PM Sunday
Joseph had told you everything about the lady, and why she did what she did. Apparently, back in her school days many of the victims had made fun of her because she seemed like some animal freak. She had always been an activist for animals, but clearly didn’t know how to handle it.
When she saw that they had pets, she believed that they didn’t truly love them and treated them like decor. But she was truly wrong and selfish. She had gotten about a year and two months in jail for neglect of animals.
“Did I ever tell you how it smelled like a farm show in there? It was like the house was made of shit.” Joseph says casually as you bite into your pistachio cinnamon roll. “Ew, Joseph. Don’t talk about shit while I’m eating. That’s nasty.” You lightly scold him with a roll of your eyes.
“Sorry, baby. I just had to let it out, you know.” Of course he did, he was always talking about something.
He gazes at you as you eat, feeling absolutely grateful for finally having you. “You’re always looking at me, Jojo. Stop…” you say, feeling your cheeks flush just a bit. “I’m just really happy to have such an amazing and pretty woman as my girlfriend.”
“You’re always being cheesy.” You say, not noticing the crumbs on your lips.
“And you’re messy.” He leans in enough to place an open mouthed kiss on your lips, causing you to gasp into the kiss but quickly melt. His lips move against yours like they were meant to be there. It felt like dancing in the rain.
Joseph pulls back enough and licks his lips, tasting the pistachio crumbs.
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