#he likes to sit in my bathroom sink for some reason

[nomazee]

Hello, congratulations on your milestone! 🎉

May I have (for the mix-and-match 😚) Dr.Ratio and the word-concept "bathtub"? 🫢

Take your time! ❤️❤️

this one was fun to write too (as per usual with ratio) i've written for dr ratio so much in the last two weeks i think i am becoming him.... Im slowly morphing into veritas ratio please save me... THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING this was lovely :3

my 1k event!

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“No way. You take bubble baths with a rubber duck?” 

Veritas freezes for no longer than a millisecond before whipping his head around to see you in the doorway of the bathroom. He’d been relaxing just moments ago, sinking into the hot water with his eyes closed, and yes there was a rubber duck in the bath with him but that was not by choice. It just happened to be there when he ran the bath, and he opens his mouth to argue but is quickly cut off by your endless rambling. 

“Anyways, I came to wash your hair. One of your assistants told me you just left in the middle of your usual work hours, and I thought, ‘wow, how odd, the Ratio I know would never do that!’ And then I thought, what better way to cheer my dear friend up than keep him company and wash his hair! It did look a little greasy today.” 

“I am not your dear friend,” he argues mockingly, but the bite in his voice falls short when you circle around the bath and set down your paraphernalia on the tiles next to you (a microfiber hair towel, shampoo, conditioner, some miscellaneous hair foams and sprays that he really does not trust you with). “You are the most insufferable person I have ever had the displeasure of knowing. Get out of my bathroom.” 

“This is our bathroom now, Ratio. We’re a community, you and me.” 

“It’s ‘you and I.’”

“Exactly! You and I, a community. You’re getting the hang of it now.” 

Veritas sighs, surrendering any potential of a relaxing evening to your whims. This is, unfortunately, how it usually goes, and he has yet to make a real effort to stop it. A voice in the back of his head taunts him because at his core, he has zero desire to stop it at all. 

“Come on,” you keep babbling, threading your fingers roughly through his already-damp hair. It’s not a pleasant sensation at all, and he winces and holds back a pained yelp. “It’s kind of like going to a spa, or whatever. I’m trying to pamper you. Be grateful!” 

“There’s nothing to be grateful about when you’re trying to scalp me,” he could push your hands away easily, bat you off and make you leave. Instead, though, he gives you a minute to tame your inelegant movements into something gentler. He hears the sound of a bottle uncapping, and then your hands are back on his scalp, lathering honey-scented shampoo into the layers of his hair. 

“Is this better?” you ask cheekily, tracing circles in his hair, digging your fingertips in and scratching just a little bit, hard enough to feel it but light enough that it’s still soothing. Veritas sighs through his nose, deep and heavy and sinking back into the water. There’s no mocking retorts, no quips, no sarcastic tone, just the even cycle of his breathing and the rhythm of his heartbeat thudding in his ears. If he tries hard enough, focuses enough, he can hear yours too, but it makes his stomach twist with an uncomfortable, unnameable feeling. 

In your bundle of things that you brought, there’s an empty plastic cup, and you use it to scoop water from the tub and rinse the foam from his hair. Veritas feels wholly exposed, for obvious reasons among others, and the urge to kick you out still sits heavy in his chest. Right next to it is a warmth, though, something holding his sensibility hostage, something that finds this more comforting than it would be if he’d sat in the bath until the water went cold, all alone, without your hands washing his hair clean of oil and grime and the weight of his research. 

You break him of his reverie, but the sudden sound of your voice isn’t as intrusive as he anticipated. “You know, you should start using this oil thing for your hair, I got it from one of my coworkers,” by now, his hair is completely rid of any remaining shampoo, and your hands are rubbing a thin layer of conditioner into the ends of each strand, “and it’s supposed to help your hair grow. I think you’d look great with long hair, Veritas, don’t you agree?” 

“What, do you think about that often?” It’s supposed to be something snarky, something to shut you down before you dig too deep, but you never catch the hint—it’s your best and worst quality. 

“Maybe,” you admit, heft in your words, a density that needs to be cut open and examined. He’s good at that—good at looking and prying, but he’s the worst if he’s next to you. You’re nowhere near as thorough of a researcher as him, but he thinks (with a sense of embarrassment) that when the subject is him, you’re the most qualified person around. “Wouldn’t it be nice? With your hair all down to your shoulders, maybe. And if you really think it’s a hassle to take care of, I’ll just do it for you.” 

He’s perfectly capable of taking care of his own hair, thank you very much, but the idea of having you wash it for him, brush out the tangles in it every other day is appealing to a starving man like Veritas. He aches, and the skin at the nape of his neck itches. 

“You’re saying nonsense,” he says, and he can feel the way his brow has tightened and he instinctively goes to chew at the dead skin on his lips. “My hair is perfectly fine the way it is.” 

“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” you respond, “just giving you options.” Your hands finally leave his hair, and suddenly the water in the bathtub feels frigid and icy, and Veritas represses a shiver. “Your hair is squeaky clean. Now, get out of the bathroom! It’s my turn to hang out with the rubber duck.” 

“Would you—?!” Veritas turns to glare at you, but the impish grin on your face makes him falter. You’re incorrigible. “The duck isn’t mine! And you have your own bathroom. Stop invading my space.” 

“Sigh,” you say aloud, because you’re corny and theatrics are written into every part of your personality. “Oh, grandest Ratio, I really did think we were friends, but you wound me so deeply! All this time has meant nothing to you! All this new shampoo that I bought just for you, gone to waste…” 

“For gods’ sake,” he mutters, reaching for a set of pajamas that you’d so conveniently taken from his own dressers and brought with you while on your mission to wash his hair. “Turn around so I can get dressed and then you can use the bathroom. So annoying.” 

“Not annoying enough to kick me out, though,” you say, and you’re completely right, and Veritas will admit that one day, but certainly not today.

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gen taglist: @tragedy-of-commons @lasiancunin @hanyi-writes

#nora hits 1k #veritas ratio x reader #dr ratio x reader #ratio x reader #dr. ratio x reader #hsr x reader #honkai x reader #honkai star rail x reader #veritas x reader #oh veritas my beautiful annoying obnoxious scholarly man

[fieldofdaisiies]

Whispers of the Forgotten | pt. 7

pairing: azriel x reader | type: angst | words: 2k words | warnings: mentions of trauma | masterlist

Your neck is aching when you throw it back and release a loud groan. Your eyes are already burning from staring into books the whole day. Outside Velaris has already entered the night – many hours ago–, but you are still sitting here, your back sore from being bent over the books for hours. 

The orange candle on the table, the only light source in the living room of the house of wind at this point, has almost burnt down to nothing, but you need it just a few more minutes. 

You are so close, you know it. The solution is right there, you just need to grasp it.

Reaching forward, you place your hand on the onyx box, sharp nails piercing into it. With the index finger of your other hand you trail over some ancient spells written in lettering that is now longer used. The spells are most likely witches runes, you are not familiar with them, but with the help of Nesta and maybe also Amren, you will be able to open the box.

You can feel it. You can feel how the small casket reacts to your touch, to the idea of being opened. It is burning with emotion, so hot your palm heats. 

You are so close – so close to opening this damn box. And so close to freedom. You will be allowed to roam freely when this is over, no one will ever lock you away again. Once the box is open you will demand your amulet back. With it your powers will return and then you are gone. To the continent or wherever the wind takes you. 

Gone…involuntarily your thoughts wander to the shadowsinger. He is also gone. Has been gone for a few days now. Gone just like back then. When he left you behind, broken and bloody. He did not even check to see if you are alright. If your wounds are too deep. If you will survive. 

Rhysand’s words hollow in your mind, loud, strong, and you force your eyes closed, fighting against the tears. 

“My father…he threatened the other female in Azriel’s life. The only other female he would have given his life for. This was the only way to protect you both.”

All those years, you have wondered what Azriel’s reasons were. Why he betrayed you like this. Why he never came to see you. You don’t know if you will ever be able to forgive him, but what you know is that you want to give him another chance to talk. You want to hear it from him. Everything. Every little thing he has to say. You want him to talk about his mother, about how he locked you in the Prison, the moments after it, the moment when he found out what the Harp was capable of. He owes you all the explanations and you owe him your time to listen.

You shake your head, directing every thought that threatens to stray into Azriel’s direction at matter at hand again – Koschei’s onyx box. You need to open it and you are so close. You flip over to the next page, finding more cryptic lettering. Your eyes are closed when your fingers trail over the words, the runes, the pictures and you feel it. This is it. 

Jumping up, the chair scratches over the ground with a loud noise. You need to find Nesta, and you need to find her now. You really hope she is not currently otherwise occupied with a certain general of the Illyrian armies because you really need to talk to her.

Blowing out the candle, you turn swiftly and head for the corridor, running as fast as your feet can take you, your thin, silken gown swishing around your legs. You head up the stairs, towards Nesta and Cassian’s main bedroom, but stop dead in your tracks when your eyes land on him. When his moan of agony pierces through your mind. 

The door to his bathroom is open, his bloody chest exposed, large wings draped on the ground, his hands braced on the edges of the sink. 

You can’t tear your eyes away and fully on your own accord your feet start to walk, no longer moving you towards Nesta’s room, but to him. You can’t stop yourself, it is like something is pulling you to him. And you know what it is – the tug on your chest. Before his betrayal you had loved the idea of it. Then everything came crashing down, and you hated it. You have been clamping down on the feeling of it for centuries, pushing it away, but now seeing him bloody and wounded –seeing your mate bloody and wounded– fire ignites deep within your soul, the bond once more coming alive inside of you.

“Azriel.” Your voice trembles, heart squeezing at the gaping wounds marring his entire torso, dripping with blood and puss. It looks awful and painful. Your fingers curl towards your palms.

He whips his head into your direction, and with a crooked smile, he says, “It isn’t as bad as it looks.”

“Bullshit,” you answer and step into the bathroom. “You look like you have been attacked by a beast, those wounds are deep. You need a healer to look over them.” When your eyes lifts, they clash with his. 

“Don’t act like you care,” he mumbles, holding your gaze.

“You have no right to snap at me, Azriel,” you answer in a stern voice, “not after everything that has happened between us, not after everything you did to me.”

“I am sorry.”

“I know.” You close the door behind you and fully move into the room, reaching for the cloth on the sink that is no longer white, but has no a pinkish colour, stained from all the blood. You clasp it tightly in your hand, and without saying a word, attach the cloth to Azriel’s wounded skin. He sucks in a sharp intake of air, then holds his breath and lets you do your work. “I am ready to talk, Azriel.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his fingers curl around the edge of the sink, scarred knuckles turning white. “I needed time, I needed time to adapt, to understand, to progress, but I am ready to talk now.” You tip your head back and meet his hazel eyes, a flicker of hope within them now that you revealed that you are ready to talk to him. 

“Rhysand told me about your mother.”

“His father threatened to execute her. I needed to protect her, but I need you to know that I didn’t choose her over you. I was…torn. I only had a few people in my life that I loved, and risking one’s life for that of another…I only tried to–”

“Keep us both safe. I know this now.” Your hand moves lower, brushing over a wound on his lower belly that disappears behind the pants of his Illyrian leathers. 

“I was trying to get you out. I was looking for ways once all threats were gone, but…only when we found the Harp I had a solution on how to do it. I knew how I was going to get you.”

You nod slowly, and put the cloth aside. “Let’s patch you up and then we talk properly, yes?”

It is a big step you are taking, but you know you have to do it. You finally have to talk to him. Your heart is racing both with panic about being so close to the person that has hurt you most in your life, but also with relief that you can finally be near him without feeling like the air to breathe has been stolen from you. He still unnerves you, but now that you have learned more about why he acted like this, talking to him seems easier. 

You have to talk to him. For yourself. You need to know everything. Find out what really were his reasons.

“In my room?” Azriel asks in a calm voice. 

You nod again and set out to do exactly what you said – patching him up. 

───── ⋆⋅ ☽☾ ⋅⋆ ─────

“He showed me what he would do to her. All the cruel things. And all the cruel things he would do to you. He invaded my mind and showed it to me.” 

You find yourself nodding again, tears lining your eyes. You sit next to him on the bed, Azriel’s head resting on the pillow, close to your hips, his chest now bandaged, his body covered by the thin bed sheet. “I had no choice.”

You want to tell him that everyone always has a choice, but in this case, this was truly the only way to do it. You have been listening to him for the past hour or even longer, soft moonlight filtering in through the curtain-framed windows. It is the only lightsource, but you don’t need more. You close your eyes, your soul for the first time calm and at ease in his presence. Azriel has been talking the whole time, a rarity you think, because centuries ago when you were together he was always rather calm. 

“Did it really hurt you to put me in the Prison?”

You feel the bed shift next to you, and a moment later his scarred digits brush your hand. “What a question…” You can hear how he draws in a deep inhale and his hand closes tightly around yours. “It tore me apart. It felt like someone ripped out my heart, and tore it into pieces. Like my soul lost its life, like it was diminished and I could never ever feel happiness again. All the years, the centuries that passed, where I couldn’t free you, destroyed more parts of my soul.”

You slide down on the pillow, not letting go of his hand, until you are on eye-level with him. His head is turned to you, and he is already looking at you when you open your lids. 

“I knew the first moment I could find a way to free you, to get you out, I would do it. You were bound to the Prison by the High Lord’s magic, you couldn’t get out alone, not even if I had tried to. It was only possible through the Harp – the Dead Trove’s magic is stronger than any High Lord’s.”

You deep your chin, nodding slowly, the back of your mouth aching. “I thought you hated me, you loathed and feared me just like everyone else. That our whole relationship was a false-pretence.”

His throat bobs. “I didn’t fake a single thing – every I love you, every kiss, every hug, whenever we made love, I meant it all. And I meant when I said that I would protect you…I never meant to hurt you. To destroy you.”

You shift closer on the bed. “Do you know why your soul hurt after you put me into the Prison?”

“Because I lost the love of my life.” He pushes up on his elbows, groaning due to the wounds on his chest that have not yet healed. He shifts onto his side, now looking directly at you, but you shake your head. 

“No, Azriel,” you say, “your soul hurt because we were mates and the bond broke the moment you closed the gates to my cell.”

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @azrielsmate2 @callmeblaire @lilah-asteria

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar x reader #acotar #azriel

[stil-lindigo]

my love is mine all mine

#i got a cat at the start of september #and hes become my whole world i just love him #i know this comes across as a memorial post but no hes very much alive and happy #i just love him an exhorbitant amount and take lots of comfort in his fluffy body #his name is wizard but i call him a variety of other names like: #wiz #mister man #mister magic #mister magic man #bubba/bubby #he likes to bite at my feet when im late giving him breakfast #and he purrs so loud and snuggles up with me in bed #he likes to sit in my bathroom sink for some reason #and likes to lick my kitchen sink #he watches the washing machine while its on #and has a hammock he dozes in every day #i love him excessively #and spoil him very much

[hollandsangel]

voice | m. sturniolo

i had this idea a million years ago, please enjoy!!

summary: chris wonders if you can tell his and matt’s voice apart

warnings: super fluffy!! a bit suggestive at the very end, i’m questioning if it’s good or not

wc: 1.6k

gif by @mattsturnioloarchive !

“i call shower first!” you exclaim the second the garage door is open, sprinting past matt up the stairs to his bathroom.

“there’s three showers,” chris says matter-of-factly as you blow past him on the steps, holding a hand out in confusion.

matt sighs and follows behind you, passing chris as well, “yeah, but you don’t have to share,” 

you’re already on the mainfloor, running into matt’s bedroom to grab the change of clothes you’d left earlier.

“i’m so glad i don’t have a girlfriend,” chris mutters, earning a smack upside the head from nick, “jesus, fuck, what,”

“you’re just annoying,” nick says, deciding it’s a good enough explanation and getting a laugh out of matt.

“agreed,” matt’s still chuckling when they reach the kitchen table, setting down the take out the four of you had gotten on your way back to the house. he hears the water turn on in his bathroom, accompanied by the soft sound of your voice as you sing along to your music.

“oh she’s a nicki fan,” nick says to no one in particular, referencing the tik tok sound when he notices you’re listening to a nicki minaj song. 

matt looks up from the bag of food and laughs.

chris sinks into the couch but looks over at matt, arm slung over the cushions, “i wonder if she could tell our voices apart,” he says after a second. 

“what?” matt asks, thinking the question is mildy rediculous. 

“like do you think she could recognize your voice?” chris explains, wandering into the kitchen now. opening a pepsi and leaning up against the counter. 

nick chimes in now, having been fiddling with the vlog camera and battery, “like compared to you and me?” he asks chris, glancing back at matt as if to say ‘is this guy for real?’

“yeah,” chris nods.

“yeah, obviously she’d be able to tell my voice apart from yours,” matt is looking back at the food again, tone matter-of-fact, as if what he’d said was absolute common sense. 

chris is quiet for about half a second and matt thinks that’s the end of that absurd conversation. it isn’t, of course. 

“should we test it out?” chris asks through a sip of soda.

matt officially gives up on trying to set the food up, throwing his hands up in mock surrender before turning to chris, “and how are we gonna do that?”

chris shrugs, but nick has an idea, “chris, you could like, just go ask her for something, if you left something in the bathroom—“

“absolutely not,” matt shuts it down immediately with a shake of his head, “you're not going in the bathroom when my girlfriend is showering,”

“i won’t even go all the way in!! i’ll cover my eyes,” chris promises, but matt is still skeptical. “i’ll just like poke my head in the door and ask if i left like..a belt or some shit in there,” is chris’ next offer. 

matt sighs and thinks about it, weighing the pros and cons. of course you can tell his voice apart from his brothers…right? he’s making himself nervous, pysching himself out and worrying they all sound the same to you. it upsets him for some reason, he can’t quite decide why.

“fine,” he agrees after a beat of silence, convincing himself you know whis voice well enough to separate it from chris’, and if you can’t, he thinks he might actually feel a sick twinge of unjustified jealousy.

“yes,” chris mutters under his breath, always excited to pull a prank on anyone.

“this is definitely going in the vlog,” nick says, still messing with the camera and coming to sit at the kitchen table where matt is now.

“i can’t believe i agreed to this,” matt mumbles, rubbing his eyes and taking a deep breath. he stands from his seat and walks over to the wall where he can see the bathroom door, feeling some what protective, like he needs to supervise chris to make sure he doesn’t wander too far into the bathroom.

“what should i say?” chris turns back arms pulled in close to his body as if he’s nervous. he’s already grinning and trying to keep from laughing.

“ooh, call her sweetheart, matt always does that,” nick suggests, wiggling his brows in matt’s direction to tease him.

“oh my god,” matt groans softly, rubbing at his eyes, “i fucking hate you guys,”

“okay, i’m going in,” matt drops his hands at that, eyes on his brother immediately. chris puts a hand over his eyes, just as he said he said he would before knocking on the door. nick has the camera out to record and is trying to stifle his laugh in the collar of his hoodie.

at the sound of the knock matt hears your voice, calling out for him, no doubt thinking it’s him at the door. he has to cover his mouth, partly out of nerves but also to keep himself from saying anything.

“yeah,” chris starts, needing to take a second before continuing because he’s already making himself laugh. “yeah, sweetheart, did i leave my belt in here?” he asks, barely stood in the doorway of the bathroom.

“uhh, i think it’s in your bedroom?” you say after a slight pause, about to poke your head out from behind the shower curtain, but chris has already mumbled a ‘thanks’ and essentially sprinted out of the bathroom, closing the door and crumbling to the floor in giggles.

“you’re not fucking real,” matt shakes his head, laughing softly himself and pushing off the wall to go back to the kitchen table. he’s a bit bummed that you didn’t realize it wasn’t his voice, but he keeps that to himself.

nick pans the camera over to matt’s face, which seems expressionless, even with both his brothers cackling outside of the frame.

you come out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, heading into matt’s bedroom to drop the clothes you’d changed out of. matt is instantly sitting back up, the legs of his chair scraping along the hardwood floors.

“ooh, someone’s pissed,” nick turns the camera to himself, eyeing the now closed door.

“that was too fucking good,” chris says after a deep breath, still recovering from laughing so hard. he pulls a chair out next to nick and the two start to explain what had happened to the camera, eyes flicking up to matt’s door every few seconds.

in the bedroom you’re putting your dirty clothes back into your bag when matt comes in, looking a little bit pouty, “hey baby,” you turn towards him, laughing at the slightly pathetic look he gives you, “what’s up?” you wonder.

“m’ tired,” he tells you, slumping up against you for a hug. you wrap your arms around him and rub his back, letting him lay his weight into you.

“we’ll eat and go to bed, yeah?” you give his back another little pat when he nods against you, “mkay, let’s go,” you kiss his cheek quickly, only to have him turn his head in search of a real kiss. you oblige of course.

nick and chris have already started eating and updating the vlog on their day when you and matt come out of the bedroom. matt joins them at the table but you head for the fridge to grab a drink. “oh, did you find your belt?” you ask matt, still digging around.

“what?— oh yeah” he mumbles, gaze turned down to his fries.

“okay good. by the way you sounded so much like chris when you came in— it freaked me the fuck out” you say with your head in the fridge, still searching for the diet coke you know you left inside the door, “did one of you drink my coke–”

“wait what?” matt’s head snaps up, food forgotten.

“hmm?” you turn around to find all three boys looking at you. nick’s mouth open in a half smile and chris clearly trying not to burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. matt’s just staring at you with eyes a little bit too wide before he speaks up.

“what do you mean i sounded weird?” he asks, leaning forward. you notice nick’s shut up about whatever he was saying to the camera earlier, pointing the lens at you now.

“i dunno, when you said sweetheart it just sounded super fucking weird— why are you guys looking at me like that–” you have to ask, feeling slightly weirded out by the intensity of their gazes

“i knew it!!” matt cheers, punching the air and doing a silly little dance as nick doubles over and starts hitting the table.

chris’ jaw drops and he presses his fingers into his eyes as he laughs next to his brother, leaning on him.

matt bounds over to you with a grin, arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you off the ground slightly.

“whaaaat,” you giggle, clearly confused by their reaction. 

“it was me,” chris manages to say between bouts of laughter, “we– we were trying to see if you could tell our voices apart.”

“of course i can tell your voices apart, especially your voice,” you turn towards matt, saying it like it should be obvious, like it’s silly they doubted you for even a second. 

matt’s just grinning at you, feeling a strange sense of pride swelling in his chest, “i knew you could,” 

“bullshit!” chris exclaims, both him and nick still leaning against each other as they laugh.

“he’s right, you were freaked the fuck out,” nick manages to say between giggles, “you watched chris like a fucking hawk when he opened the bathroom door,” he looks over at you, his smile contagious, “he was definitely freaked the fuck out,”

matt groans and drops his head against your shoulder. you brush your fingers through his hair and chuckle to yourself, “awe matt,” you coo, “i definitely know your voice, i’ll probably be hearing lots of it later anyways.”

tags ! @st4rswrld @urfavvev3lyn @mattsturnioloarchive @averysbestyears @its-jennarose

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt struniolo x you #matt sturniolo blurb #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo

[luvelve]

˚ · . sweet blue - k. mingyu

summary: your husband’s not very good at asking for things, not even for a shave. but of course, he gets it either way.

pairing: husband!mingyu x afab!reader

genre: fluff, suggestive

warnings/tags: kissing, shaving, mentions of use of a blade

a/n: i took a long and unexpected break from writing and i’m happy to be back <3 this has been sitting in my drafts for sooooo long and i finally finished it today. the ending was kinda rushed but i wanted to publish it either way to kinda get myself out of this slump. as always, feedback & likes/reblogs are always welcome :)

the dark colored marble touches the front of your thighs as you inch closer, which surprises you but you try your best not to flinch because of the task at hand. at this moment, you feel like an artist, a sculptor if you will; carefully carving clay with utmost precision. except you’re not a sculptor, and you’re not carving clay. you’re in your bathroom giving your husband, mingyu, a shave.

this was new for the both of you, as mingyu always just shaved his incredibly slow growing mustache by himself. what started all this is him seeing you in your nightstand or in the bathroom doing your makeup and skincare, and he finds it all so amusing. he swears harps and violins play in the background when you’re in your own little world, dusting your cheeks with blush, taking your mascara off, or applying lip balm? lip… stick? lip…. whatever it is that you put on your lips, he thinks to himself. all he knows is that he can watch you do it all day. but he’s also left wondering, how it would feel to do what you do on him.

for some reason, mingyu isn’t able to muster up the courage to ask you straightforward to do his skincare, but he is able to ask you to be the one to shave him since he tells you its that time of the month where his mustache gotten too long for his liking. he comes up with the excuse of not doing the job well enough, and that his face gets all ‘itchy’ afterwards. which is all a lie of course, but it’s enough to convince you to do what he asks of you.

and so you find yourself in your shared bathroom at nine in the morning, standing in between your husband’s legs as he sits on the counter, both of your faces inches from each other. the room is silent but not eery, it’s a comfortable silence. mingyu had joyfully shown you the things he uses for his shaving routine: a cheap razor, shaving cream, some aftershave seokmin had recommended to him, and a towel.

“you really should get one of those good quality razors. not these disposable ones.” you scold mingyu softly, looking at him sternly with one hand resting on his head and the other holding the razor.

“but they’re expensive.” he extends the last syllable in protest, his reply a bit garbled as he tries his best not to move his mouth too much. you know mingyu well enough that he would be pouting at this moment, if only you weren’t shaving his upper lip.

you’re too focused on the task at hand that you don’t bother arguing with the giant sulky man in front of you. you continue making slow downward strokes using the razor, watching the hair slowly disappear. mingyu doesn’t have a lot of hair on his face like other guys but you take your time, making sure to get the job done right. it is, after all, your first time.

your husband watches as your lips contort out of focus; a habit of yours that he’s taken notice and grown fond of over the years. every now and then , you get rid of the hair and cream, swishing the razor in the sink that’s filled about halfway in water. mingyu feels nothing else but happiness and content in this very moment that he’s internally doing jumping jacks.

your resting hand shifts from his head and onto his cheek to get better leverage and mingyu just has to lean in to your touch. he relishes the feeling of your warm hand and then looks at you with adoration in his eyes.

“baby…” you raise your eyebrows at him, wondering what on earth he’s doing this for in the middle of a shave. mingyu doesn’t react to your words but instead shoots you a small derpy smile, and only you would know what he means.

if there’s one thing your husband is good at, it’s getting you to give him your love and attention without even saying anything. there are nights when mingyu comes home exhausted and all he has to do is stand there in your doorway, signalling to you that he wants to be in your embrace. or when you get up earlier than him and you find him just as he’s about to wake up; he’s buried in the sheets, hair all messy, just laying there, silently telling you that he wants a taste of your lips before his morning coffee.

and it’s the same thing he’s doing now. you let out a small sigh as you tilt your head a bit in fake annoyance before you lean in to connect your lips with his. it’s quick but it’s enough that mingyu lets out a hum of contentment. you pull back and he giggles as your lips catches some of the shaving cream, giving yourself a tiny little mustache.

“happy?” you quickly reply, and mingyu catches you to plant another kiss on your lips, placing his hand on your cheek to deepen the kiss a bit.

“very.” he says, as he swipes the pad of his thumb on your upper lip to get rid of the shaving cream he transferred onto you. his giggles bounce off the quiet walls of your bathroom.

“now can you sit still so i can finish this little bit that’s left?” you say to him, and he replies with a small nod and a sheepish smile, one that’s big enough that his canines show through. mingyu feels like a sixth grader who just kissed his crush. if the marble counter wasn’t in the way, he’d be kicking his feet.

you finish the small patch of hair that he has left and you proceed to put aftershave on him, assuming it is what you put after one shaves. you put a little bit on your hands and you’re thrown off by its strong musky scent. surely this can’t be good for his skin, you think to yourself.

“babe, you really use this stuff? i think this is way too strong for you.” you say with a worried look on your face. “well… seokmin told me it was good so i just used it too.” he replies.

“well yeah, it could be working for him but for you… i’m not too sure. i don’t know… i’m just worried.” you trail off, getting some tissue to rid your hands of the product and his eyes follow you around the bathroom while you do so. you shuffle back to stand in between mingyu’s legs, “i’ll go get something from my stuff instead.”

he watches as you momentarily leave the room to grab something from your vanity. he waits in the bathroom like a five year old waiting for his mom at the grocery counter. he hears the sound of your drawer open and close and it makes him chew at his lower lip in excitement.

“okay, this should do the job.” you say as you take the product onto your hands and pat it gently on your husband’s annoyingly smooth face. you make sure to cover all the parts that the blade has touched, and your head tilts left and right trying to make sure you didn’t miss any spot.

the way his eyes light up and follow your every move don’t go unnoticed by you. his hands make their way to rest on your hips again, squeezing every so gently as not to distract you.

“aaand, that’s the last bit of it.” you say, tightening the cap of your moisturizer and setting it down on the counter. mingyu internally pouts because the task is done, nonetheless he still props himself off the counter to take a look in the mirror.

“thank you, baby.” he says softly, shooting you a sweet smile as he turns to face you again. his arms snake around your waist to pull you in for a kiss and just when your noses touch, you pause. “you know… we still have a bit of time before we have to head out. why don’t we go back to bed for a little while?”

mingyu instantly picks up on what you’re trying to say and of course he jumps on the opportunity, “yeah?” he questions, and you nod as you wrap your arms around his neck. “well you know i can’t say not to that.” his smile reaching from one ear to the other. he leans down to attach his lips to yours as the both of you slowly walk backwards into your bedroom.

“oh, one more thing.” you mumble, momentarily breaking away from the kiss. “mhmm..” mingyu hums, and you feel it rumble in his chest. “i know you don’t get ‘itchy’ after you shave, it was just an excuse to get me to do it for you.” your tone is playful, and right then and there mingyu knows you’ve got him.

“what-huh? n-yes, i do!” your husband stutters, his ears turning red in embarrassment. “sweetheart, you really expect me to believe that? i know you like the back of my hand.” you reply. before mingyu is able to say anything else, you grab his arm and lead him out of your bedroom. “now let’s go, you owe me a yummy breakfast.”

#mingyu fluff #kim mingyu #seventeen x y/n #seventeen fluff #seventeen #mingyu x y/n #mingyu scenarios #seventeen scenarios #mingyu au #seventeen au #mingyu x reader #luvelve’s

[soap-ify]

can you do a smut to fluff comfort where simon is overstimulating them and being super degrading and they safeword? Then Simon takes care of them and is basically just super sweet.

this has been sitting in my inbox for so long :( so sorry anon i hope you like it!!

cw — smut at first, degradation, use of safeword, gentle aftercare and lots of comfort.

simon had been frustrated that day, very frustrated after coming back from work. and you felt like trying something new for him.

“fucking slag… look at you takin’ this cock so well.” he spat bitterly, his girthy cock mercilessly ploughing into your tight cunt, his hands gripping your hips in a hard and bruising manner. “too dumb to even speak now, eh? only good for takin’ some cock.”

he had asked you so sweetly at first, if he could take his frustrations out on you, and you had agreed because you wanted to please your boyfriend so badly. plus some crappy porno made you think that rough sex can be amazing. silly reason, yeah.

but right now, all those insults spewing out of his mouth seemed genuine and scary, messing up with your head while your body was all sensitive from already orgasming a few times before. it was overwhelming, too overwhelming — and you knew that if you don’t speak up now, you’ll break down horribly anytime soon.

but god, you felt so guilty. you were supposed to be relaxing him, not turning it onto yourself.

“r-red…!” you managed to choke out, tears sliding down your cheeks as your fingers digged into his shoulder blades, causing simon to halt almost immediately.

“what?” his voice was gruff, eyes still a bit glossy from fucking you, though his grip had loosened significantly and worry was soon blooming onto his face.

“red…” you repeated weekly, lips wobbling as you quickly looked away, not wanting him to look at you crying over something like this.

simon gently eased himself out of you and rolled by your side, his calloused hands cradling your face. “oh, love… did i hurt you? was it too much?” he may have been sounding concerned and still reserved though he was internally panicking inside, wanting to rip and beat some sense into himself.

“yes,” you sniffled and nodded, your hands trembling as you leaned into his embrace, soft pants leaving your lips. “too rough..”

“fuck, m’sorry. so sorry, love. got carried away for a second, i-” he paused, his heart aching terribly with guilt and concern as he saw your face all soaked with tears. it soon dawned on him how mean he was being, even if you had agreed to it. he should’ve known that you were probably not used to this, maybe not even into it.

he slowly got up from the bed and helped you off the bed, his burly arms supporting you. he took you over to the bathroom and soon ran a warm bath for you, helping you sit in the bathtub, your little winces making his heart sink.

“i didn’t mean any of those words, y’know…” he pressed a soft kiss on your forehead, his fingers gently caressing your head.

“i know…” you sniffled and smiled up at him sheepishly. “maybe i’m too soft for all that.”

simon sighed softly and sat by the edge of the bathtub, not caring about himself at all right now. all of his focus was solely on you, helping you clean yourself and dry up once you were done, dressing you in some comfortable pajamas.

once he came back after cleaning himself up, he sat down on the edge of the bed and looked over at you, his once stern brown eyes now soft with love and pain. “i’m so sorry, i mean it…”

“don’t apologise, si…” you gently wrapped your arms around his neck, his hands supporting your hips as he carefully propped you on top of him once he laid down, caressing your lower back.

“i love you… never wanna hurt you, y’know. m’so proud of you for speakin’ the safeword. so proud of you.” he smothered your head with chaste kisses, his breath caressing your skin.

“i love you too…” you mumbled softly, exhaustion soon taking over you. you let his heartbeat lull you into sleep alongside his soft murmurs, feeling safe once again.

#slowly getting back to answering reqs :3 #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #cod x reader #call of duty #rurufic #ruru mail

[slttygeto]

WHAT WAS I MADE FOR?

⤷ THINK I FORGOT, HOW TO BE HAPPY. | something i’m made for

જ⁀➴synopsis: your boyfriend was made to be the center of attention, to receive so much love--not to deal with your sadness like it was his.

જ⁀➴content warning: fem!reader, angst, reader is a little insecure, just v sad, satoru best boy.

જ⁀➴ word count: 0,8k.

⤷ comments and reblogs are much appreciated!

my boyfriend is so cool

that was always your thought when you went out with him for dinner. he’d invite a bunch of his friends along with their partners, and you’d spend the rest of the night chatting and laughing. you noticed how suguru was always the center of attention, even if he didn’t want to be. his best friend was equally magnetic. like a moth to a flame, they would both shine so bright.

and you’re suguru’s girlfriend. his pretty girl whom he met in college and has been with ever since. three years down the road, and many more to come, as he liked to say. you liked to believe that you and suguru were meant to be together, a match made in heaven. despite your different personalities and approach in life, you always managed to find a way to make it work.

always.

tonight, dinner tasted a little weird on your tongue. you’re sure it’s just you because everyone else seems to be enjoying their food just fine. no one seems to notice the way you scrunch up your face after the first bite, slowly setting the fork down and flashing suguru a polite smile, to which he immediately asks

“are you okay?”

am I okay? you’re not sure if you are, but you nod anyway. you squeeze his shoulder and motion at a friend who was talking to him, asking him to focus on the conversation.

you hated feeling like this. you could feel your stomach hurt, and your heart sinks a little as you try your best to fight back the insecurities. why were they resurfacing at such a time?

you weren’t supposed to feel this way. you’ve talked about this before with suguru, and he reassured you many times that he was dating you because he loved you. even three years later, you still can’t find it in you to tell him that it seems like he deserves better.

not someone who cries when they look in the mirror, or deflate throughout the day for no absolute reason. suguru deserved someone who takes care of him, not a person who is constantly so sad.

you excuse yourself from the table you’re sitting at, muttering to your boyfriend some lame excuse about how you need to fix your makeup. truth be told, if you had stayed at that table any longer, you would’ve thrown up the food and made a mess.

you walk inside the bathroom and as dramatic as it may seem, you lean against the door and let out a sob. it’s quiet, you don’t want anyone to hear you. but then it gets louder and louder until you turn on the faucet to try to drown out the sound of your cries.

this is so stupid.

you’re trying to wipe your makeup, even if it seems a little impossible to fix it right now (but you somehow manage). you’ve been in the bathroom for about 7 minutes now, and you know that if you stay there any longer, suguru would come looking for you.

you step out of the bathroom when you’re sure you look presentable and bump into a strong chest. your heart stills.

please don’t let it be—

“are you okay?” thank god, it was satoru.

you’ve known him ever since you met your boyfriend, and he’s been one of the most reliable friends ever. he was nice, kind, a little cocky but given his looks and fortune, he had a lot to brag about.

“oh, yeah. my stomach was a little upset, come on let’s go—“ you’re avoiding his eyes, but satoru can tell from your swollen lips that something else happened.

“you were crying, weren’t you?” his eyebrows are pinched, and you fight back tears when you look up at him and see the concerned look on his face.

“please, don’t tell suguru.” your voice cracks when you say his name, and satoru’s face morphs into one of confusion.

“but–“

“satoru, please. it’s not what he’s made for.”  

it’s not what he’s made for.

satoru’s lips part in shock, but he can feel his heart clenching a little at your words. he doesn’t know what to tell you, his mind is blank as he stares down at you with icy blue eyes.

“okay then, let’s go back,” he doesn’t press it, slowly leads the way back to your table and you’re immediately overflown with questions from suguru.

“are you okay? is it your stomach? we can get you meds–“

“I’m okay,” you try to reassure him with a warm hand on top of his, but the look on his face tells you that he doesn’t believe you. not one bit.

but suguru doesn’t have to know that you’re not okay. after all, he does deserve better and you’re getting in the way of that. 

⤷ the song absolutely destroyed me, so i had to write something.

2023 © all works belong to slttygeto. do not repost my work anywhere else.

#moon's works #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen angst #angst #geto x reader #jjk geto #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto #jjk getou #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru #geto x y/n #jujutsu geto #geto x you #jujutsu kaisen geto

[pseudowho]

Thinking about...

...long-term 'too comfortable' relationships with the JJK guys, when all the weird/gross/silly things creep in.

Pinning Gojo Satoru against a wall, having spotted an enormous pimple on his chin that you just have to get: "there's nothing wrong with m-- how dare you-- ow ow ow get off me--" "don't be such a melt, Satoru, keep still, that absolutely cannot stay on your face--"

Sitting on the toilet and chatting with Nanami Kento while he showers, and he wordlessly hands you a fresh toilet roll from the cabinet while he brushes his teeth; "thank you Kento" "mmmmmhm" and you continue chatting while you pee, leaving the bathroom door open. You forget to get off the toilet, so he brings you your tea there, while you continue to tell him about your day.

Laughing at Geto Suguru as he steps out of the bathroom after a bit of manscaping; "no no no-- go and get your razor, you're all patchy" "ah shit, really?" "yeah, you look like you've got a really bad gardener" "at least I try to trim the hedges..."

Plucking Fushiguro Toji's back hairs out one at a time; "OW-- dammit woman, stop doin' it like you hate me--" "--look, if you keep getting hairier, I'll just wax you instead, you're such a bear--" "--alright alright, I'll get your little witchy chin hair after--" "hey!"

Calling out to Okkotsu Yuuta while you're stuck on the toilet, blood over your hands and panties; "hey, Yuuta! Can you grab me some new underwear, and a pad?" "Sure!" Yuuta shuffles back to you, unfazed, as you hand him your bloodied panties to put in the laundry basket, "that bad, huh? You got enough stuff to last you?" "actually, I might need you to run to the shops..."

Creeping up behind Zenin Maki while she washes her bras in the sink, dropping a few of your own ones in, pressing a sloppy kiss to her cheek; "hey, hey, I'm not your washer woman" "yeah you are, such a beautiful washer woman" "psh...you're doing them next time"

Takuma Ino smiling as you curl on the sofa beside him in slummy old pyjamas full of holes (an ancient t-shirt of his, joggers you've had for at least ten years...), and you let out a fart; "sorry, sorry..." "don't be, I know you can do better than that" and Takuma lets one rip himself, sighing with relief.

Dropping your toothbrush down the toilet at Higuruma Hiromi's house; "ah, shit!" "oh, damn...just use mine" "eurgh, I'm not doing that!" "darling, be reasonable, I eat your pussy, we share much more--" "that's different--" "well by all means then, my love, enjoy your toilet toothbrush..."

Catching Todo Aoi taking a swig of milk out of the carton; "get a glass, jesus!" "whatever babe, it's just me and you here" "that is disgusting, unsanitary" "oh? I'll show you disgusting and unsanitary...c'mere"

When Kugisaki Nobara steps out of the bedroom, wearing your panties; "hey, they're my favourite!" "well they're my favourite too..." "yeah, on me! Get them off-- get back here--" and you dart after her, Nobara laughing as you try to pull your underwear off her, "help, help, I'm being assaulted!"

Catching Itadori Yuuji giving himself a scratch and sniff; "you absolute goblin-- go wash your hands!" Yuuji darts after you, laughing, his hand outstretched as you screech, ducking and running past him; "what, this hand? Come back baby! Where you goin'?"

Telling Fushiguro Megumi every single time you need to poop; "pause the movie! Gotta go poop," and he absolutely returns the favour, sitting on the toilet while you're taking a bath , "I'd wait...but I can't" "alright alright, just don't stink the place out" "I don't make promises I can't keep"

#jjk #jjk headcanons #kento nanami #kento nanami x you #jjk nanami #nanami fluff #higuruma hiromi #hiromi higuruma x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto #suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x you #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta okkotsu #yuuji x reader #itadori yuuji #itadori yuji x reader #maki zenin #maki zenin x reader #kugisaki nobara #nobara kugisaki #nobara kugisaki x reader #takuma ino x reader #takuma x reader #ino takuma fluff

[sassypossumm]

I Trust You....

A little bit of Coach!Miggy angst to mix it up (I'm so sorry!) CW: infidelity

Miguel's heart sank when he heard the sink running in the kitchen. 

He'd really been hoping you'd still be asleep. 

As quietly as possible, he eased the door shut, cursing when the hinges creaked. 

"Miguel?" 

He groaned inwardly and closed the door. 

"Yeah, it's me." He took a deep breath, and slowly walked into the kitchen. By the looks of how clean everything was, you'd been up for hours. Glancing over your shoulder you took in his disheveled appearance and turned back to turn off the water. 

"You're just getting in." 

"Yeah..." He scratched the back of his head and leaned against the door frame, hoping and praying you weren't wise to him yet. 

Wishful thinking. 

"Go take a shower, Miguel," You dried the last dish. "You still smell like her." His stomach dropped to his feet. 

You knew. 

"Okay." He said simply, shuffling to the bathroom with heavy steps. Of course you knew. He grumbled to himself as he stripped and threw his clothes in the hamper. Somehow you always knew what he was up to. There were times Miguel paused to ask himself who the covert spy really was, you or him? Sighing heavily, he turned the water on and stepped wearily into the shower, closing his eyes. Breathing in the steam, he ran his hand over his face. 

"What am I doing with my life?" He muttered, reaching for the body wash. The one you'd gotten him for Christmas. The one that you claimed made him smell woodsy. The first time he'd used it, you'd shown him just how enthusiastically you liked it. Miguel smiled faintly at the warm memory. You'd both needed a shower, something he hadn't complained about in the least. The smile slipped when he thought about the context of the shower he was currently taking. 

"The call sounded urgent, babe." Miguel had said as he pulled on his jacket. You'd folded your arms and snorted. 

"Oh, I'll bet it did." You'd said wryly. "She's probably urgently wanting you to bone her." Miguel couldn't argue with that logic, it wouldn't be the first time since the divorce Dana had called him under such pretenses. And before he'd met you, Miguel had happily indulged his ex, and on occasion it had been he who'd called her. 

"She was pretty insistent this was about some legal papers, the divorce or alimony." He shook his head. "I don't remember exactly." You'd sighed and wrapped your arms around his neck. 

"I trust you, Miggy." 

The shower head started squealing in protest from the water pressure. Miguel snapped back to the present and lathered his hair. It was a lame excuse he knew, but it just sort of happened. He hadn't had any intention of waking up in his ex-wife's bed. But one drink turned into four, and Dana had gotten handsy, going on about how lonely she was and how much she'd missed him. 

And he'd caved. Like the wuss he was, he'd caved. Scrubbing his scalp to the point of pain, Miguel cursed himself for what felt like the fiftieth time since he'd woken up two hours ago, wrapped up in a woman that clearly hadn't been you. He hated himself. He was a total dick, and he knew he wouldn't blame you if you left. After thoroughly scrubbing Dana's scent from his skin, he turned off the shower, and toweled dry, prolonging the inevitable. 

It wasn't a conversation he wanted to have, but he knew that you had the right to let him have it. And somewhere deep inside, Miguel hoped against hope that you wouldn't be calm and reasonable. He prayed that you'd yell at him, throw something, anything but that calculated stare you got when you shut down. Pulling a worn shirt over his head, Miguel sighed heavily and trudged back into the living room to find you sitting on the couch, reading a book. He cleared his throat. You didn't look up. 

He shuffled further into the room and perched tentatively on one of the armchairs and clasped his hands in front of him, waiting for you to deign to look at him. After a long agonizing silence, you did look up. And his heart jumped into his throat. Impassive and neutral would describe your features best. Not a sliver of anger in sight. 

"Y/N..." You held up a hand. 

"Please don't tell me it didn't mean anything, Miguel." He opened his mouth to respond, but quickly shut it when you gave him that firm look that told him he was in trouble. "It meant something. The question is, what did it mean to you, Miguel?" He drew a blank and stared at you. He tried to form an answer, but none came. 

What had it meant to him? 

"I didn't say no." He said woodenly. You hummed. 

"Yes, that much is evident. But why? You could've come home. You could've walking away, but you didn't. The question is why? Why did you break my trust?" A shiver ran down Miguel's spine at how unnervingly calm and levelheaded you were being. 

"Because I was thinking with my dick." He began. 

"And..." You raised a brow. 

"I didn't want to leave." He finished slowly, letting out a deep breath. You hummed and picked up the book again. Miguel looked at you expectantly, waiting for... he wasn't certain what he was waiting for. "I'm sorry." 

"I know." You flipped the page. Miguel sighed and looked down at his hands. 

"Are you going to say anything else?" He muttered, looking up at you. "I slept with another woman, Y/N." 

"I'm aware of that." You said casually. 

"You're aware, and you're acting like we're deciding where to order take out from!" He ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. 

"You broke my trust, Miguel." You closed the book and set it aside. "You put your dick in another woman." He winced at your candid description. "You fucked another woman. You pumped and sweat for another woman. A woman that wasn't me." You looked at him coldly. "What do you want me to say, Migs?" You slipped, using his nickname.

"I don't know." He slumped back in the chair, defeated. 

"You caved to a basal instinct. We're not frogs, Miguel. You made a conscious choice. And I'm dissapointed, and hurt." His heart twisted. Your calculated tone hurt more than any screaming or throwing vases ever could. "I love you dearly, but what you did was reprehensible." 

"I know. And I've got no excuse." He leaned forward, looking at you with desperate eyes. 

"You used each other like fleshlights. And that's disgusting." You spat. And Miguel took it. "Do you love her?" You looked at him, a brief sliver of vulnerability shining in your eyes. 

"Baby, no." He instinctively reached for you but pulled back when you flinched. "I love you." He kneeled in front of you. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me." 

"Then act like it." You paused and took a deep breath. "I need space." You grumbled, grabbing your coat and storming out of the apartment.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel imagine #angst #i'm sorry

[writemekpop]

Imperfect | Lee Jeno

Summary: You and Jeno make a list of everything you don’t like about each other. 

Genre: Established relationship AU, angst

Word count: 1k

“You don’t believe in soulmates?” Jeno says, as you lie with your head on his chest. His fingers freeze in your hair, showing his shock. 

“I mean, you’re not gonna like everything about your partner,” you say.

“You don’t like – things about me?” Jeno says. “Like what?” 

Your breath falls short. 

“Not big things!” you say, struggling to dig yourself out of this hole. “Your aftershave! It’s a little… intense.” You suppress a grin. “Like I’m drowning.”

Jeno flops back onto the pillow. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“You’ve gotta have things you don’t like about me too!” you insist.

“I can’t think of any,” Jeno groans. “I’m too busy trying to smell myself!” 

You hug Jeno tightly, savouring the feeling of his tight muscles beneath your hands. 

“Let’s just make a list, okay? Whenever something bothers us, we’ll write it down, then at the end of the week, we’ll share. No fights.” 

Jeno smiles. “Good idea.”

-- One week later --

Jeno tries to snatch the piece of paper from you. “Just show me! It’s been ages...”

You wrestle the paper out of his hands. Your heart is racing. “One sec! Just making some – last minute – edits.”

You are desperately scratching half of your list out with a pencil – because you realised that Jeno’s list was just a tiny post-it note, whereas you had a full sheet. 

Jeno snatches the paper from your fingers. “A-ha!” Jeno says. 

He clears his throat dramatically. “Mis-matching socks. Too afraid to talk to the people at the store.” He sits down on the bed, a frown growing on his face. “Kind of ugly… laugh.” The paper starts to shake in his hands. “Sort of – a – crybaby.”

Jeno tries to fling the paper on the floor, but it just wafts slowly down. His chest is rising and falling fast. He scrubs his eyes furiously. 

“Hey! Don’t be mad!” you say, sitting next to him. “You wrote a list about me too. Oh, Jeno, please don’t be upset.”

Jeno glares at you, his eyes red. “I’m not upset. Because that would make me a huge crybaby, and you hate that.”

He storms out of the room. 

You scramble to the floor and pick up Jeno’s list, on its yellow Post-it. You read what is written on it. 

You sink slowly to the floor. You feel like a horrible person. You wish you had never been born. You finally found a good guy, and you stamped on his heart like it was nothing. 

List of things wrong with Y/n:

Nothing 

You’re perfect 

---

You are crouched outside the bathroom door. Jeno has been in there for an hour. 

“Jeno, honey, please talk to me,” you say. 

“Get out!” Jeno yells. 

“You didn’t read the end of the list!” you say. “It says – none of this matters, because you’re the kindest, most passionate, most caring man I’ve ever met.”

You hear the lock clicking, and jump to your feet. 

Jeno opens the door, just a crack. “You don’t get it, do you?” His stare is ice-cold. “All my life, I was told that I wasn’t tough enough, brave enough, man enough. Until I met you, and you told me I was enough.” He shakes his head. “But you were lying.”  

He closes the door in your face. Through the door, you hear him say, “You know what hurts? The fact that I truly thought you were perfect. I was wrong. You’re mean, Y/n.”  

---

For the next two weeks, you spend every day reminding Jeno all the reasons that you love him - but he still gives you the silent treatment. 

One day, when you and Jeno are eating dinner in silence, Jeno slapped a piece of paper onto the table.

“What is that?” you say. 

“It’s my list.” Jeno says. “For you.” He picks it up and reads aloud. “Wears too much makeup. Judgemental. Mean. Can never take responsibility in arguments…”

Each word feels like a slap in the face. You thought that Jeno was too sweet to notice any of that stuff, but you were wrong. 

You clasp his hand, as tears start to fall. “I’m sorry, Jeno. I’m gonna treat you better, I promise.”

Jeno frowns. “Wait. You’re not… mad?”

You shake your head. 

Jeno’s eyebrows rise. “You’re not gonna deny it? Or fight back?”

You shake your head. “No. These past few weeks, I’ve realised that I – I don’t like looking at who I really am. Because who I am is… ugly. But I’m gonna change.”

Jeno clasps both your hands in his. “Oh, Y/n.” 

He comes round the table and pulls you into a tight, warm hug. You have been craving his touch for so long that that hug restores you to life. 

“I love you, you stupid idiot,” Jeno says. 

“I love you, too,” you squeak.

“Now who’s the crybaby?” Jeno says, chuckling. 

You laugh through your tears. “Shut up.” 

Jeno’s smile is warm, all signs of anger completely gone. But you have a niggling feeling you can't quite shake. 

“Do you really think I wear too much make up?” you ask, too embarrassed to meet his gaze. 

Jeno scratches his head. “Maybe… I dunno, I think I was just lashing out.” 

You stay silent. 

“Y/n, I think you’re gorgeous, inside and out. Smoking hot. Ten out of ten. Definitely would bang.” 

You snort. 

Jeno smiles, eyes crinkling. “I’m sorry, baby. I hate it when we fight.” 

You bury your head in Jeno’s neck, touching your lips against his soft skin. You can feel his soft sighs against your ear. Heaven. 

—

MAIN MASTERLIST

Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋

#nct dream #jeno #jeno smut #jeno imagines #nct imagines #nct dream smut #nct dream fluff #nct dream imagines #nct dream reactions #nct reactions #nct x reader #nct fanfiction #nct fluff #nct angst #jeno fluff #lee jeno smut #jeno angst #nct 00 line #nct 00 line smut #nct drabbles

[uch3na]

𝙛𝙪𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙙

| pairing - jann mardenborough x afab reader

| warnings - smut, cursing, jann taking out his anger on you??? mdom, blowjob, doggy, creampie (wrap it b4 u tap it chat), a bit of a make out sesh before the actual smut, slight aftercare

| synopsis - jann comes home after losing a race, and you make him feel better

| a/n - yo this cut is insane… shoutout to my barber dawg. anotha 1 for @ludicdoll xx. (i was thinking of this song the whole time while writing)

you were sitting on you and jann’s shared bed in a (his) t-shirt and some underwear reading when he suddenly walked stormed into the house. you could hear the door slam and his keys hit the coffee table by the TV.

when he walks into the bedroom he instantly walks over to the bottom of the bed and takes off his shoes. once they’re off he stands back up to leave to go to the bathroom. you immediately know why he’s mad; he had a race earlier today. you sadly couldn’t made it due to work but could have watched it on the TV, and you ended up watching him lose. but he wouldn’t get mad at that.

would he?

“jann?” you call out to him from the room. you slowly climb out of the bed and walk up to the closed bathroom door. you can hear the sink water running but jann is still silent. when you reach to open the bathroom door you freeze a bit at first. you think you should just leave him alone, but you just wanna make sure that he’s okay.

you open the door to find him drying off his face with a towel. when he looks up into the mirror his eyes are boring into yours. “wanna talk about what happened at the race?” you finally speak out after a few moments of stillness.

you swear you see his eyes go wide just the slightest bit. he turns around and you think he’s gonna finally talk to you but he just brushes right past.

you follow him out of the bathroom into the living room. when you get close enough you reach out to grab his arm. he turns around pretty quickly but not enough to make you flinch. when he finally looks at you, you walk up closer to him, causing him to look down at you with those eyes.

the hand that is on his arm moves to his hand instead, rubbing circles on the back of it with your thumb. “tell me about what happened today.” you say while reaching up to grab his one hand with the both of yours.

jann brings his hand up to pinch his nose bridge and let out a sigh that leads into a groan.

“it’s stupid.” he says, a slight annoyance in his voice. you freeze again. shit. is that why he’s mad? he notices how you don’t say anything, and how your eyebrows furrow slightly. he also notices how your thumb stops moving on his hand. he lets out another sigh as he removes his hand from the bridge of his nose and uses it to move your hair out of your face. “i-it’s nothing, really… it’s not that important.”

you remove your hand from his when he utters those last few words. what does he mean ‘not that important’? does he not think i care about his races?

“‘not that important’ jann? what the fuck do you mean it’s not that important?” you speak out quickly.

he chuckles lightly and looks down at the floor with a shitty smirk on his face. “what else would i mean? it’s a dumb reason to be mad about. the whole crew agreed it was.” he says while reaching up to rub his eyes. he obviously is stressed from the race and just wants to relieve himself.

you reach up to his face with one of your hands and cup his cheek. he leans into your hand and takes one of his hands and puts it on top of yours. and then you guys just sat there. you loved little moments like these. where he used you to calm down, like you knew you were his safe place. your hand moves a little more towards the back of his head, playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck to calm him down some more.

but then he lets out a deep exhale and when he opens his eyes he says; “i need you so bad…”

his words catch you a bit off guard but you almost immediately pull him down by the back of his neck to connect your lips with his. he lets out a soft moan of relief when he finally feels the plush of your soft lips against his. his hands go down to your hips almost instinctively to grab at your hips with his large hands. he pulls you into him, to make sure you feel his dick getting harder against your stomach.

jann slowly slips his tongue into your mouth and uses one of his hands to reach behind your head and grip your hair into a ponytail. he tilted your head back to be able to have access to your neck and jawline, leaving little kisses and licks on the skin.

he was sucking tiny hickeys into your neck, then soothing the bruises with his tongue right after.

your soft moans and whimpers at the pleasure cause him to twitch in his pants. jann was never really the type to just grab at you like that but he was just so fucking pent up right now. plus he knew if you didn’t like it, you would have made him stop by now. when he pulled away to take off his jacket you let out a whine from the loss of contact, but less than 5 seconds later his mouth was back on yours.

soon enough he carried you to the bed and sat you on his lap, groping your breasts through the fabric of your shirt. when you pulled away from his lips you could see a look of confusion mixed with lust on his face. but as soon as he saw you climbing off his lap onto your knees in front of him, his confusion turned into a more relaxed expression.

when you got to his pants you could already tell he was painfully hard just by looking at the tent in his pants. you cupped his clothed dick in your hand, rubbing it to give him a bit of relief but soon enough he got impatient. jann grabbed your chin to make you look up at him. “cmon… enough w the teasing. be good f’me baby.”

its almost like a trance. right after he utters those words, your fingers nimbly began to unbuckle his belt and unzip his fly. when you pull his pants down you can see a stain of precum on his underwear. you put your hand in his boxers, causing him to hiss out suddenly from the way your hand felt around him. god. he felt like he was gonna come undone already.

you look up at him with full eye contact as you slowly pull his hard cock out of his underwear fully. his eyes are low and his mouth is slightly parted, tiny groans escaping him. when you take him into your mouth he chokes out a moan and instantly reaches up to grab your hair in a fist. jann got lost in a daze watching you suck him off. he always thought you looked so pretty with your lips around his dick.

soon enough, he started to pant out and his groans began to get louder as you bobbed your head up and down on him. then all of a sudden he lifted your head up — grabbing you by the chin to bring you into a kiss. you two were sloppily eating at each others faces. almost like starved animals.

you were already soaked from everything that was happening so when jann pulled you into arms again just to flip you onto your hands and knees he could see the wet patch that stained your panties. “so fuckin’ wet… so damn greedy — just want me to fill this pretty pussy don’t you?” he leans down behind you to whisper in your ear.

jann reaches down between the both of you to pull your underwear to the side, revealing your sopping wet cunt to him. he then fisted his cock, stroking it a few times before lining himself up with your slick entrance. when he begins to push in inch by inch you swear you begin to tear up with how big and thick he is.

he was fully nestled inside of your warmth when he reached up to grab a fistful of your hair and setting his pace. jann’s hips started smacking against the plush of your ass with each thrust.

“jann… ple—ase,“ you whimper out.

“sh- shh sweetheart… don’t talk just lemme hear those little noises you make.” he said as he picked up the pace of each thrust. he was going fast and deep. he moved his hand from your hair and used it to grab your face, thick fingers digging into your soft cheeks.

he started peppering tiny, cute kisses across your face. he was doing such a sweet thing while breaking you.

when jann looked down between the both of you, he swore he was in heaven. he could see where he was sliding in and out of you perfectly and the white ring you left around his pretty cock. it was like a mark you left on him to show that he was yours and you were his.

you could feel his pattern faltering as his hips began to stutter. his groans turned into moans and they went higher in pitch each time your hips smacked back onto his. he leaned down to plant kisses along the small of your back as your voice began to crack from how loud you’ve been. “oh- oh fuck — im gonna cu-“ is all you hear before you can feel jann spill into you.

soon enough after, you let out a loud whine as you feel yourself cum on his cock.

the room smells like sex and the air is hot and heavy. the only thing you can hear is the sound of both of you panting, trying to catch your breath. when jann pulls out of your warmth, he hisses sharply though his teeth. he was still kissing from your neck to your jawline all the way down to your lower back.

a little while later, jann had cleaned the both of you up and gotten some new clothes for you to wear to bed. you were on top of him with your face buried in his neck while his hands were tangled in your hair. every so often he would lean down to plant a kiss onto your lips or cheek. his large hand went underneath your (his) shirt to trace small shapes on your back.

“was i too much?” he finally says to break the silence.

you stirred a bit in the position you were in but he could feel you shake your head ‘no.’ jann lets out a dry laugh at the way you responded to him. he reaches up with his free hand to grab your chin and gives you a sensual kiss on the lips.

“thank you for helping me love…”

#jann mardenborough #jann mardenborough smut #jann mardenborough x reader #archie madekwe #farleigh start smut #farleigh x you #farleigh catton #farleigh smut #farleigh x reader #farleigh saltburn #save me archie madekwe…

[dollfacefantasy]

Wash His Hair

pairing: leon kennedy x gn!reader

summary: you wash leon's hair and try to help him unwind (fluff) (also, a tad hurt/comfort)

word count: 1.5k

a/n: inspired by this post from @peachscentedcandle cause it made me laugh. this post does reference the movie good will hunting, if you haven't seen it you should watch it! (after you read this of course ;) it's really good. but anyways, thank you so much for the support on my last posts (kissing u thru the phone if you reblogged or commented). as before, comments and reblogs are appreciated :) also, the divider is from here!

Leon had been exhausted lately. He tried to play it off, but you could tell. He was so much quieter since coming home from his last mission. He didn’t say much about it, but you knew it had been rough. It stretched longer than expected, and while it was a success in the end, there were some complications along the way that you knew he blamed himself for.

He’d walk around the apartment slower than usual with distance in his eyes. You tried getting him to talk about it, but he’d deny anything was wrong at all. It wasn’t like he wanted space though. You asked him if he’d like to do something to maybe get his mind off it, but all he wanted to do was relax in bed with you. Normally, you’d never complain about that; however, when you knew he was hurting, you couldn’t just push it aside. His avoidant nature was a little frustrating after a while, and if it was anyone else, you’d probably be fed up. But you knew he didn’t do it to be malicious.

You lie in bed with him, softly running your fingers through his hair. His cheek is pressed to your shoulder, his eyes staring at your bedroom wall. You try to watch him without being too obvious with your staring. Your hand on his head slides down to rub his back. You just wanted to help. You try to think of literally anything that might help get him out of this slump. You sit up a little in bed and he looks up at you to see the reason for your movement.

“I’m going to take a shower. How about you join me?” you say, breaking the silence.

It’s like you can see the excuse rising in his throat. The way he tenses a little and his eyes flit away. You could hear the thoughts in his head telling him to pull away and close the walls. Before he can, you speak.

“Please,” you say softly, trying to avoid sounding demanding, “It’ll let you unwind, Baby. I just want to help you. It will be quick and painless, I promise.” You give him a small smile, hoping to lighten his mood if only a little bit.

He looks at you for a moment more, the excuse sinking back down and the anxiety in his mind receding, before he nods. “Yeah, okay,” he agrees quietly.

It wasn’t a completely enthusiastic reaction, but it was a step in the right direction. Your smile widens, and you give him a quick peck on the forehead before you both roll out of bed. The air felt cool after being enveloped by blankets and Leon for the last few hours. You walk into the bathroom, turning the lights and the shower on. You rummage in the cabinet beneath your sink for anything that could make this even more relaxing for your boyfriend who undresses to the side of you as the water heats up.

Finally, you see a bag of shower steamers in the back. After taking one of the chalky pellets and placing it beneath the pouring water, you peel your clothes off. Leon’s gaze is fixed on your body, but there’s no lust in it right now. It’s pure adoration. The love you feel from his eyes causes heat to rise in your cheeks. You extend your hand to him, feeling his firm grasp as he takes it. The two of you step into the shower. You take a deep breath and inhale the fresh scent of oranges rising with the steam. He uses some of the hot water to push his hair back and out of his face. It may have been wishful thinking, but you would have sworn you could see his features already relaxing a bit.

Your eyes are soft as you look into his. You reach up to stroke his cheek a little, and you can feel him leaning into your touch as the warm water sprays over the two of you.

“C’mere,” you whisper and pull him into a tight hug. Your head rests where his heart is as your arms lock around his torso. You plant a kiss on the slippery skin of his chest and slowly start rubbing his back. “It’s not your fault.”

He doesn’t say anything, and for a moment, you worry you may have upset him. But he doesn’t move. His arms stay wrapped around you with his chin propped on top of your head.

“Just have your Good Will Hunting moment, Babe. It’s not your fault,” you say again, trying to reassure him a bit without it being so much that he’d pull away.

He amusedly exhales and squeezes his arms around you tighter. He doesn’t say anything for a while, but that’s okay with you. The shower continues pouring down on you and the steam clouds the air further.

“I love you,” he says simply. His voice sounds less deflated. The subtle improvement in his tone makes your heart glow.

“I love you too,” you say, slowly nuzzling his chest. You kiss his collar bone a few times, trying to elevate his mood further. Even though the progress was small, you could feel the shower washing away the gloom that had been surrounding him since he came home. “Let me wash your hair now,” you offer.

You reach for his shampoo, but he stops you, gently grabbing your wrist. He pulls it across the shelf in the shower to where your things sit. “Use yours,” he says softly.

You beam at the request and kiss his cheek. His eyes were starting to lose the fog of exhaustion. He still looked tired but not beaten down. You grab your shampoo and squirt the liquid into your hand. He didn’t care if it wasn’t good for his hair type or anything like that, he just wanted your smell on him.

You rub the shampoo over your palms into a soapy lather. Leon tilts his head down to give you a better angle. You run your hands through his hair, lovingly scratching his scalp as you work the bubbles through his blonde locks. He shuts his eyes and nearly purrs while your fingers massage his head. You press tender kisses to both of his cheeks and nose before directing his head under the shower head to rinse.

The stress and guilt melt away under the hot water and your affection. You’re nearly petting him as you guide the soap out of his hair. He lets out a deep breath after inhaling the steam. He zones out as you start conditioning his hair. He only comes back as he feels you rubbing a wash cloth over the muscles of his chest and arms. His eyes slowly open and watch you spread the soap across his body.

You smile up at him as you move to his abdomen. “You still with me?” you say with a little teasing in your voice.

He hums in response and shuts his eyes again. You soothingly wash the rest of his body and then rinse him off. You quickly take care of yourself as he continues to relax under the flow of water. When you’re done, you give him a sweet kiss to bring him out of his stupor and shut the water off. The two of you step out of the shower hand in hand. You pass him a towel and you both dry off. He starts for the closet, but you take him by the arm and lead him to your bed.

“Don’t get dressed yet. Just sit back, take it easy, and let me help you really relax,” you say before kissing him yet again. He watches you as you get your lotion and begin rubbing it into your palms. You work the cream over his body, paying extra attention to the places you could feel his tension. The smell fills the air and puts him further at ease.

You glide around so you’re kneeling on the bed behind him, kneading the muscles of his shoulders and back. You kiss and nuzzle his neck. He lets out a soft noise of pleasure.

“There you go, Baby. Let it all go. There’s nothing to worry about right now,” you coo as you continue your soothing caresses. He’s like putty in your hands as you continue loving on him.

You finish your makeshift massage once you felt his skin couldn’t be any smoother. The two of you dress in fresh clothes before climbing into bed, getting comfy between the pillows and blankets. You tangle your limbs with Leon and kiss his head. “See, this feels even better than before, right?” you whisper.

He nods and shifts his position so that he’s nearly on top of you. He kisses your neck softly. He was so soft and smelled like you. “Thank you,” he murmurs.

“No thanks needed, my love,” you say and return the kiss to the side of his head.

“But I want you to hear it, need to make sure you know,” he whispers.

You run your hand through his clean hair and cradle his head in the crook of your neck. “I know. You don’t have to worry about that either. I like doing this,” you reassure, “Just try to get some real rest now.”

He hums and gives you one more kiss before shutting his eyes. You feel him drifting off above you, at peace for the moment.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil x reader #resident evil imagines #resident evil fluff

[cinnamoneve]

𝐟𝐞𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞.

feuillemorte \fə.jə.mɔɹt \ (adj.) - of the color of dead or dying leaves: dull yellowish or orangish brown.

❆ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: gojo satoru x gn!reader ❆ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: satoru falls into habits of sleepless nights when he worries ❆ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: reader gets picked up by gojo (he is the strongest btw and he can lift anyone w ease !!) ❆ 𝐰𝐜: 2k ❆ 𝐚/𝐧: there is angst if you squint. pls enjoy my loves ♡

the apartment always felt colder at night.

selfishly, you lazily searched for your boyfriend’s warmth to steal, afraid that opening your eyes would ruin the illusion of dreaming while you’re awake. patting around, the bed was unusually empty and lacked satoru’s body heat to keep you toasty.

you break your comfort to crack your eyes open and see that you are, in fact, all alone in bed.

“satoru?” you manage to call out, half in a whisper, to no response.

you peek at the clock on the bedside table. it’s 3:52am.

slowly, you sit up and prepare to get out of bed. all you’re wearing is one of satoru’s shirts, which probably explains why you’re freezing your ass off. you grab the blanket off the bed to shroud yourself before bracing for the cold; changing out of satoru’s shirt won’t be an option.

it was one of the first items of clothing he’d given you in your relationship. the two of you live together now–you have unlimited access to satoru’s extensive wardrobe, along with his blessing to take anything, anytime. 

the shirt was well-loved and very lived in; it had stains and holes in it, a burn mark from a night you tried to impress satoru with an expensive cut of flame-grilled steak. it was just a silly shirt, after all–some graphic tee he’s acquired one way or another that fit him like it was made for him.

he lied, actually, giving it to you. lying through his teeth when he remarked how it was too small on him, but he’d hate to get rid of it. he was really thinking about how you’d look wearing it, how the hem would float just around the middle of your thigh, the shirt covering you in an extension of him.

satoru would dream of you doing nearly anything in that shirt. laughing at a joke he told, brushing your teeth together, eating the breakfast he made for you, sleeping on the couch you two picked out together. you had other clothes he loved, but this was his favorite.

you didn’t know this, of course, you just loved him. a lot, actually. and that was reason enough to wear it.

you scrunch the blanket up so it doesn’t drag on the floor as you venture into the dark apartment.

“saaaaatoru~” you whisper around, checking if he went for a quick pee, or maybe if he was changing into different sweats. 

no sign of him in the bathroom, or poking around the laundry room.

maybe he was feeling restless and went for a run? 

mm, he would’ve told you first. his shoes are still by the door, along with his keys and everything. his phone was by the bedside table when you left the bedroom.

perhaps a midnight snack was in order. satoru was often hiding away in the kitchen, stealing himself a quick bite of something sugary to quell his sweet tooth before bed. and you’d always act surprised when you found him, and he’d always act like he was up to no good. 

nothing there either, but there was a suspiciously ice cream-covered spoon lying next to the sink: a telltale sign he’d be coming back for it.

seemed to be getting warmer.

the living room was quiet and dark, and he wasn’t curled up on the couch watching something he was barely even paying attention to. it was narrowed down to one place.

you put some shoes on before opening the door to the balcony. the crisp autumn hair hit your face before you even noticed satoru sitting on the ground. you had furniture out there. there was no reason for him to be doing that.

your voice was still groggy from your slumber.

“good morning, satoru,” you mumbled. he knew you were there, and he was already looking back up at you.

“hey, you,” he replies. his voice is abnormally mellow for the words he said. his eyes were a little puffy, and touches of pink dotted the tips of his nose and ears. maybe it was the weather doing this all to him.

you studied his face a little more, and he looked tired. the kind of tiredness that sleep won’t fix.

“i couldn’t sleep,” he dryly says.

“i know. it’s okay, love”

and you said that honestly, but you weren’t sure if you meant it.

satoru had bits of insomnia when work got particularly hard. he worried about not being able to protect you or his students, so he kept infinity working overtime. the means justified the end in his opinion, and his thick head wouldn’t change what’s not in need of a fix. you both were still safe, right? what’s a few days’ worth of sleep if it guaranteed he could protect you both?

you couldn’t fight him on it anymore, you knew this. the best you could do was support him and love him. but it was hard to watch.

the silence was occasionally broken up by the wind moving dried leaves on the street below. it seemed like the whole world was asleep at this hour. too early for the morning risers, too late for the night owls; just you, satoru, and the moon on the balcony together. satoru stared off into the distance, towards the city that seemed to be the only thing alive right now.

he looked up and snaked his hand up your thigh, settling gently on the hem of your shirt. his shirt, really, but it was soft enough that you barely felt the tug.

you went to sit on the ground with him, but he pulled you by the bottom of your t-shirt into his lap.

“don’t, it’s dirty,” he flatly mumbled into the crook of your neck.

you hummed in response as you settled onto him. he hugged your waist and leaned his head against your back, nestling just between your shoulder blades. 

“you’re gonna get sick if you sit out here any longer, y’know,”

“the fresh air feels nice,” his words tickle your back, which makes you giggle. 

you twist around to straddle him and see his face.

he gives you a tired smile when his eyes meet yours. you tilt your head to give him a sympathetic look. 

taking his face in your hands, you thumb his cheek and soothe him as best as you can.

“your face is freezing, stupid,”

he suppresses a smile, but his dimples are evidence of his feelings. he pulls the blanket to cover the both of you.

“come here then, lemme steal some of your body heat if you really care so much about me,”

you crawl into him as he holds you, keeping you both wrapped under the blanket with only your heads peeking out. he’s keeping you so snug to him that it’s hard to look up at him, or even move.

“thank you, satoru”

“you don’t have to do that”

“i absolutely do, don’t be crazy. you’re keeping us safe, right?”

“something like that, i think. or trying to,”

his confession makes you both go silent. the wind whistles again as the fallen leaves dance once more. he pulls you a bit closer as a chill settles in.

“i don’t know,” he sighs, “i don’t know what’s the right thing to do, i’ve realized”

“you don’t have to, baby, it’s okay,”

“i wish i could scream at the sky ‘til it shattered,”

you giggled at the thought of it, and snuggled more into the blanket cocoon satoru wrapped you both in.

“i bet it’d be cathartic,”

“do you think it’d reach whatever’s up there?”

aliens? god? the infinite he can’t get his hands on, maybe. it was all up in the air.

“maybe if you yell loud enough,”

satoru shrugged at your simple answer. he was thinking about this before you got here, you’ve gathered, but he tended to grasp at the harder solutions instead of the simple ones in reach. he was an overthinking and philosophical mess when he’d had no sleep.

“maybe,” he said, “we’ll have to try it,”

he began drifting his hand around your back. slowly drawing patterns, writing words, marking circles around your spine. you could find yourself ready to fall back asleep right then. best not rub it in though.

it was hard for the stars to shine brightly this close to the city. the light pollution seeping from tokyo battled the stars for dominance, and it always won.

satoru looked up at the night sky. for guidance, for a sign, for divine intervention. the wind carried the scent of dead leaves.

he’d hope that he’d go the same way. leaves were beautiful at every stage of their lives, he thought. stark, shiny green one moment and a deep myriad of autumnal colors the next. yellow for a bit, orange for just a breath, red maybe if it felt like it. it fell, plagued the ground, but was never considered litter or unkempt looking. it was beautiful, even when it was dead and served no purpose.

he’d wished father time would be as nice to him as he’d been to leaves. 

was it father time? death itself? or god, maybe. maybe it was nothing at all.

satoru hugged you closer, if that was even possible.

it all seemed so infinite. the infinite outcomes and the endlessness of it all seemed to haunt him greater than any curse could.

all he could focus on was the person in his lap. he’d hope you were together in every lifetime. in every timeline. 

you were matching stains on a graphic tee gifted by a lover. you were two ice-cream covered spoons on the edge of the sink. maybe you were two leaves dancing on the ground, waiting for the next time that the wind would bring you another adventure.

but for now, you were you. and satoru was himself. 

and there’s nothing wrong with that. it’s a beautiful thing to be painfully mundane sometimes. to not be the strongest, not have the power of infinity, and to not know the next move. the answer was in front of him all along, as usual, and obvious as well.

he exhaled deeply.

“c’mon, let’s get back to bed”

you were drifting off to sleep already, but the sudden vibration of his words pulled you out of it.

“mm? are you sure? we can sit outside as long as you want. i don’t mind,”

“i know,” he said, “it’s okay. i’ll carry you. don’t worry about getting up”

in one swift motion, satoru was up to his feet with you cradled in his arms. he stepped inside, locked the door, and made way for the bedroom. 

he carefully put you back in bed. when he reached down to place your head on the pillow, you pulled him in for a deep kiss.

he just seemed like he needed it. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling your lips away but keeping him close.

he leaned in and cupped your face in his hands with a smile. he knew what you were going to say before you could even open your mouth.

“i’m okay, i promise,”

“i believe you”

you didn’t.

but he meant it. everything you do for him brings him an immeasurable amount of comfort, and even if he didn’t want to talk about it, just having you there to sit with him was more than enough. 

“i love you,” he said.

and you answered, as you always do.

“i love you more,”

you didn’t. you couldn’t, he thought. it would be impossible to top the amount of adoration he holds for you. but he’d indulge you a little bit and let you think that. only silently he’d fight that fight, knowing you’d deny it if he ever voiced that.

satoru gave you a final kiss on the forehead before climbing into bed next to you. the lights were off, the house was cold, but underneath the covers was the perfect temperature. 

you shifted close to him to steal some of his body heat.

he made sure his infinity was off so he could hold you even closer. it was the first night in a while he was able to sleep so soundly.

all content © cinnamoneve 2023. do not repost, modify, steal, or copy without permission.

#★ jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru headcanons #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #gojo #♡ satoru

[apocalypse-shuffle]

HOBIE BROWN | SPIDER-PUNK (atsv)

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“Brand New Metal” (Hobie Brown & Fem!Reader)

| Hobie helps you pierce your nose.

| SFW, piercing description, needles

| Featuring almost the entirety of my own piercing experience. (Pic source: Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (2023) movie)

You pull away for what feels like the hundredth time in five minutes and Hobie’s hand moves outta the way even faster, barely a blur of movement before it’s back within his bubble of space.

“C’mon, Mama, I can’t do this if you keep jumpin’ away from me.”

You shift in place where your butt is planted beside the hard water stained sink. Shoulders dropping you rub your hands down your face.

“I know that,” you grumble.

Problem was, knowing barely qualified as a quarter of the issue, and whoever said knowing was half the battle clearly hadn’t been staring down the point of the thickest needle you’d ever seen in person.

You wave your hand to the metal rod with a grimace. “But look at the size of that thing, Hobes. That’s gotta be overkill.”

Hobie’s accent seems to get thicker as he hits you with a deadpan tone, full brows shading his eyes.

“This’s a twenty gauge needle. I’ve seen you ’old your guts inside you and still make time to bash in some fascists, this’s nothin’.”

In response you flip him off but Hobie - perfectly unfazed - only starts twirling the needle around two latex glad fingers.

His own piercings - of which there were plenty - glint off of the dim yellow lighting of his bathroom like a taunt. Or at least it feels like that to you.

“Look, I already told you piercings ain’t some crucial part of the scene, Mama. You don’t have ta do any of this. It’s all just boxes and labels, the lot of it,” Hobie points the blunt side of the needle at you. “And you know I hate labels.”

“Yeah, Hobes, the whole of Camden knows. Besides, I want it cause I think it looks nice not cause of capitalism’s agenda to make us buy shit instead of looking at whatever human right of the day they’re doing away with,” you shrug and Hobie’s mouth twists to the side for a second before he’s shrugging too.

“Great. Point’s been made then. Pick a struggle.”

“Fuck your struggle,” you frown. “It’ll hurt.”

“Hn,” he scoffs and shakes his head. He’s giving you this narrow look like he’d let you keep this back and forth up for the rest of the day without any complaints though. “Fake ones exist for a reason.”

“Fake ones won’t give me the satisfaction of a real piercing though.”

“The lie that we need to feel pain in order to be worthy of livin’ is also capitalistic propaganda, Luv.”

Now it’s your turn to give him a look; face dropping and one brow rising.

Hobie chuckles.

“Fine.” He grins, sharp. “We both know I know exactly what it is you’re sayin’. I just can’t tell if being an accomplice to yer masochism is fair to me.”

“You wouldn’t deny a woman her creative outlet, would you?”

“S’pose not,” Hobie agrees, taking another alcohol swab and disinfecting the needle again for extra measure.

He eyes you up and down and you smile, fluttering your lashes at him and kicking your heels into his cabinet doors. You needed Hobie to be the one to do this. For one, because you were not going to be able to do this yourself, and for two, because he was really the only person you trusted to puncture a literal hole in your body.

You take a deep breath, now if only you could chill the hell out.

Hobie shakes his head, wicks flopping around and knocking into each other languidly.

“Yer one ‘elluva reluctant participant to this for someone agreein’ they’re a masochist,” he nods to the needle while brandishing it like a knife. He knows you're full of shit, but he’s not about to make your decision for you. “You gotta stop flinching every time light just glints off the needle if you really want this.”

You lock eyes with him, sitting up to your full height and trying not to back away from the metal rod. “Maybe I’m just waiting for the adrenaline rush to kick in.”

“Pretty sure that happens after the pain, yeh?

A huff and your fingers curl over the edge of the counter and squeeze.

“Just…get it over with, Hobie.” You take a deep breath. “Please?”

“Alright alright, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Hobie eases a hand around your jaw and raises the needle. “You know I’ve got you. Now keep still.”

Another deep breath from you and Hobie meets your eye for a second time.

“On three,” he grunts. With your head in his grasp you can’t physically nod so you use your eyes to convey your agreement.

Hobie takes a breath to start the countdown and you inhale with him. You’ve gotten your ears pierced before, you could do this. It was fine. Plus you’ll have a few seconds to prep yourself before he gets to number three. You got this. You both exhale.

“Three,” he states.

Without a second to spare the needle pierces through the squishy cartilage of your nose and your breath catches in your throat. Instantly tears well in your eyes and your face heats up something fierce - like somebody’s holding a blow dryer on the highest setting up to it with zero mercy. Your joints pop, grasp on the counter growing tighter in your attempt to keep yourself from jerking out of Hobie’s hold. The sheer need to not garner an actual injury from the metal is almost solely what keeps you in place.

This wasn’t like an ear piercing at fucking all. Fuck this septum piercing and fuck Hobie too. What the fuck?

“Ow! You motherfucker!”

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!! I only wrote his accent clearly some of the time; you’ll have to forgive me. I was confusing my damn self, okay? I did my best.

Also what I said about how adrenaline works isn’t really correct so don’t take that as gospel.

Edit: Had this labeled gn!reader on accident at first y’all, that’s my bad. Sorry for any confusion.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.

#hobie brown #spider-punk #black!reader #black y/n #hobart brown #hobie brown x black!reader #hobie x black!reader #spider punk x black!reader #black female reader #platonic!black reader #hobie brown & black!reader #hobie x reader #spider punk x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown & reader #across the spiderverse #spider man across the spider verse #atsv imagines #x black!reader #spiderverse imagine

[miniwheat77]

Tipsy. (Captain Price x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW Smut, unprotected p in v sex, public sex, Price is being rough ;), alcohol, this is really short. Been sitting in my drafts for some time (sorry if I missed any.)

“I’m thinking we all go out. As a celebration.” Soap smiles.

“Oh please, you’re just looking for a reason to get your hands on some tequila.” John mumbles.

“Whaaaat? I would never.” He pretends to look offended. He shakes his head. “Alright fine. For just an hour though, nothing crazy.” John mumbles. Once they’ve arrived back at base they gather everyone up and they’re walking down the streets to get to the small club. It was nice being here, nobody knew who they were when they were dressed normally. It was peaceful. An hour later, you’re nowhere to be found.

“Is she still out on the dance floor?” Captain Price looks at his watch. “Yeah probably. You’ll have to drag her away Captain.” He rolls his eyes. “Christ in heaven, I didn’t sign up for this.” He grumbles, standing up from his spot at the bar.

They know exactly how you get when you drink, so sending their Captain out to get you is going to be funny. Your Captain hadn’t seen it yet. He was always so uptight, never wanted to go out. They knew you can be pretty persuasive, maybe it’d help him lighten up.

He’s shoving through the crowd to get to you and when he runs into you, you’ve got a grin on your face, grasping his hand and pulling him into you. He laughs awkwardly, you’re very pushy. “Uh.. it’s time to head back now.” He mumbles, you’re dancing in front of him. “Nooo. Come on. We just got here.” You grasp his hand, spinning around.

His eyes widen as you back your hips into him, moving with the beat of the song.

The rest of the task force is witnessing it, Soap is trying not to laugh. “He’s gonna kill us for sending him out there.”

“Oh absolutely, but it’s good for the old man.”

They can see how rigid he’s gone when you back your hips up into him. They can’t help but laugh.

“Y-Y/N. Stop.” He spins you around, you pull him into you. “Oh come on Captain. Live a little.” You smile. He swallows hard at how forward you’re being. You’re drunk. He’s drunk too, had a little more bourbon than he should’ve. He can feel himself getting hard in his jeans, something he hadn’t felt in ages. He growls when you back up into him again. “Y/N..” he grits his teeth, face near your neck.

“So. How many push ups do you think he’s going to make us do?” Gaz asks.

“Good question. I bet we’re up early for extra drills.” Soap laughs. Taking another drink of his Tequila.

You let out a gasp, tilting your head back to rest on his chest, feeling him hardening against your ass. “Captain..” you smile. Grinding back into him. “You’re in a lot of trouble for this.” He breathes, rocking his hips into yours. By now, the crowd around you has you buried between them and nobody is focused on the way you’re rocking into him. He grasps a handful of your hair, tilting your head back. His breath is hot against your ear. “Bathroom. Now.” He growls. You bite your lip, watching him disappear into the crowd of people. You can feel yourself sobering up, nervous as you make your way for the bathroom.

“She’s gonna keep him out there a while, I say we check out this pool table.” Soap nods. They all agree, standing up and making their way over to it.

You push open the door seeing your Captain standing in front of the sink. Luckily it was a small one person bathroom. He makes his way over to you, locking the door and pushing you up against it. “You’re a bad fucking girl, making a fool of me like that.” He growls. You look up at him, eyes wide and you appear intimidated until a smile creeps onto your lips. “I can make it up to you Captain.” You breath. “Oh you will baby.” He growls. He spins you around, pushing your face into the wall and forcing you to arch your back. Pushing your dress up over your hips. He pulls your panties to the side, rubbing his fingers over your bare pussy.

“Fucking soaked.. such a fucking slut.” He breathes. He unzips his cargo pants, tugging them down far enough to expose his aching cock. His tip is blushing red and leaking precum from being teased for so long. He spits in his hand rubbing it over the entrance of your pussy, feeling you mewl into him. He rubs his cock back and fourth over you until you’re whining.

When you don’t expect it, he’s thrusting into you. A gasp leaves your lips and your hands are resting against the wall, wishing you could hang onto something as he starts his aching hard thrusts into your pussy. Gripping your hair hard and pulling you back to kiss him, resting his hand on your throat as he fucks into you. “Such a bad fucking girl. You like teasing me? Hm?”

“Yes- yes Captain!” You moan. “Mhm. I bet you do.”

“W-wanted you so bad.” You cry. Choking on sobs and cries as they leave your throat. “Yeah. I guess you got what you wanted hm.” He smiles. He wraps his hands around your waist, fucking into you and holding you tight. He hisses as you clench down on him, only now realizing just how long it’s been, how good you feel on him. “Fuck- gotta be quick before we get caught.” He breathes.

He pulls you back into him more, moving his fingers down between your legs and rubbing fast circles into your clit, you know you won’t last long. “Oh fuck- I’m gonna cum!” You whine, tilting your head back as he tugs on your hair once more. “Cum on my cock baby, yeah that’s it.” He growls. He’s right on the edge of his own orgasm, ready to let you have every bit of it. You pull away from him, and he growls. “What are you-“ you turn around to face him. “Wanna see you.” You breathe. He laughs, shaking his head. He grasps your thighs, lifting you up and pinning you to the wall behind you, a gasp leaving your lips at him manhandling you. His cock is slick with your orgasm still, making it easy for him to slide back into you. Hearing you moan. He pins your legs up, pressing his forehead to yours and thrusting into you, fast and hard. He’s reaching deeper places than before, growling as you start to claw at him.

You wrap your arms around his neck, holding onto him tight as he cries out. “M’gonna cum.” He gasps. “Gonna fuckin cum baby- fuck.” He grits his teeth, hips stuttering to a stop as he finishes, crying out as he finishes. He holds you tight to him, panting as he comes down from his high.

He pants hard into your shoulder. “Fuck.. I’m sorry.” He breathes. Hearing you laugh. “For what?” You breath, pulling away. “I was rough.” He breathes. “I haven’t.. done anything like this in a long time, I couldn’t control myself.” He breathes. You say nothing, deciding to kiss him instead. When he lets you down off of him, he slides out of you with a groan. “Fuck..” he sighs. “We should get back out there, they’re probably wondering where we are.” He laughs awkwardly. “Probably.” You smile, sliding your dress back down.

The both of you emerge from the bathroom, thankful that nobody is waiting outside.

When the both of you approach the pool table, you’re getting glances. “Finally got her off the dance floor ah?”

“Yeah, she’s uh.. quite the party animal.” He laughs. Hearing you laugh. “Nah I think she just sobered up enough to be done.” He lies. “Right, we’re just about done with this game.” Soap laughs, turning back to the table. They don’t see the way your Captain squeezes your ass as he passes by, a quiet gasp leaving your lips.

#call of duty mw2 #cod mw2 #soap mw2 #captain john price #ghost mw2 #price mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut #alejandro mw2 #captain johnathan price #john price x reader #price x you #price x reader

[asdfghjklmals]

ACCIDENTS✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff, angst. no smut. mentions of pregnancy, sex, injury, blood, and abortion. suggestive comments. WORD COUNT: 4.5k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc, boyfriend!gojo, pregnant!oc, established couple.

SYNOPSIS: during oc gojo girlfriend's yearly check up with shoko, she finds out she's pregnant. how will satoru act when he finds out? AUTHOR'S NOTE: i did make some changes to the beginning compared to the preview that i posted! thank you @mdnxghtjj for staying up late with me to try to make up scenarios on how oc gojo girlfriend would be pregnant by accident lol my google search probably thinks i'm the pregnant one. here is the official start to my version of dad!gojo and the official start to the baby gojo chronicles 🥹 REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions, instead please do!

your least favorite time of the year was when shoko had everyone visit her office for a yearly check up. that was a full examination for everyone.

“here, pee on this.” shoko handed you a pregnancy test. you looked at her with confusion written all over your face.

shoko saw your facial expression and reassured you, “it’s just part of the protocol, (y/n). would you rather pee in a cup? last time you told me you hate peeing in cups because you don't want to accidentally pee on your hands.”

“fine... it’s gonna be negative anyways.” you said confidently. you took the test from her hand reluctantly and went to the bathroom.

as shoko gave you a thorough examination, you couldn’t help but peer at the white and blue pregnancy test sitting in the corner next to the sink. it wasn’t your first time using one, but it was always strange taking one. especially for no reason.

"alright, you're done. have you been feeling better since you caught that cold?" shoko asked as you hopped off the examination able. she went back to the sink to remove her gloves and wash her hands. you had caught some horrible cold or stomach bug over a month ago, and it left you with fever, chills, and non-stop vomitting for weeks. you were so sick that you told satoru you wanted to write a will to leave everything to megumi and tsumiki because you didn't think you were going to make it.

“yeah. i haven’t been that sick in so long. i was vomitting like every other hour. satoru thought he was going to die when i wouldn’t let him sleep in our bed. he slept in tsumiki's old room for two weeks, poor guy. i didn't want him to catch whatever it was,” you chuckled at the thought of your 6’3” boyfriend sleeping in a baby pink decorated room.

“(y/n)…”

“yeah?” you turned to face shoko.

shoko asked you cautiously, “are you on birth control?”

suspicion filled your eyes as you peered at the amber-eyed doctor, “yeah, i’ve been on birth control since i was 21… why?”

“your pregnancy test came back positive.”

you stared at the digital screen. the words “pregnant” screamed at you inside your head. were you really pregnant? this was something you never thought would happen, at least not right now.

“that’s not possible, shoko.” you laughed nervously in disbelief.

“according to the test, you are.” shoko looked confused. as a doctor, she was determined to figure out how one of her bestfriends, who was on birth control, got pregnant. she studied your charts and medical records as she chewed on the tip of her pen.

you tried to retrace your footsteps for the past month. you had a very specific routine, and you took your birth control every morning after brushing your teeth and washing your face. your package of pills sat in your bathroom drawer just below the sink as your daily reminder to take your birth control.

shoko folded her arms and cleared her throat, “uhm, i hate to ask you this because i truly don’t want to know, but when was the first time you and gojo had sex after you got sick?”

you thought it was a strange question because wouldn’t shoko want to know when the most recent time you were intimate with satoru was?

“well…” you looked at her sheepishly, a face full of embarrassment, “we had sex right when my cold symptoms went away.” it would’ve been uncomfortable for your aching body, so you made satoru wait. and yes, he complained about it for two weeks.

shoko massaged her temples as she realized what the problem was, “god, (y/n). remember you were literally throwing up all the time when you were sick?”

your jaw dropped, “does that mean i threw up my birth control…?”

“that could’ve been the case, but if you throw up 1-2 hours after taking your birth control, your body might not have the chance to absorb it. your body was technically missing dosages since you were vomiting almost every day for a week…” shoko explained.

you stared at the doctor. your heart was racing and your mind had a million thoughts running through your head. you couldn’t believe that you were pregnant. there was just no way. as much as you and satoru joked about having kids, you knew deep down that satoru wasn’t ready. and you didn’t think he’d ever be. but you were okay with that. you had spent most of your young adult life raising two kids, so you felt like you weren't missing out on much.

“please, don’t tell satoru.” you quietly pleaded with shoko.

“don’t tell gojo-sensei what?” megumi asked from the office door. he dropped his backpack and his gym bag on the floor, walking towards you and shoko.

your eyes widened as you discreetly shifted the pregnancy test under your thigh, “hi kiddo, don’t tell gojo-sensei that i bought him his favorite kikufuku as a surprise.” that was a horrible lie, you're usually better than that.

shoko cleared her throat to try and change the subject, “hi megumi! you’re early for your exam.”

“yeah, i finished jujutsu practice early.” he replied back to shoko as he reverted his gaze back at you, “(y/n), what’s going on?”

“nothing, i just finished my exam. shoko says i’m as healthy as a horse!” you laughed nervously.

“you’re pregnant, aren’t you?” megumi asked you straightforwardly, “you were complaining about your boobs hurting the other day, you felt sick yesterday morning at breakfast, and you complained about being bloated at lunch today. not to mention, you’re always throwing up in my bathroom at home.”

you stopped to think about the symptoms that megumi just listed. you didn’t even consider that being pregnant was the reason why you were experiencing those symptoms. you always thought you were in the clear with those stupid tiny birth control pills.

you sighed, lifting your thigh to grab the pregnancy test. you showed it to megumi. “satoru doesn’t know… and we’re going to keep it that way.”

“why don’t you want to tell him?” he asked you, “are you guys fighting?”

“no, we're not fighting. this whole thing was an accident because of my cold last month... and to be honest, i don't know if your sensei even wants kids.” you smiled halfheartedly at megumi.

“i won’t say anything.” megumi promised. he couldn't imagine satoru gojo not wanting to reproduce and to have mini-satorus running around to terrorize the jujutsu world.

you warned him, “that means you can’t tell tsumiki either, i don’t want her to rush back home from her study abroad program just because of this.” (read 'wherever you are' here)

megumi reached his pinky out to you and you locked yours with his, both of you kissing your thumbs to seal the seal. he wrapped his arms around you in a warm hug. you needed that comfort right now.

“if i do the math, you’re about 5 weeks pregnant, (y/n).” shoko said, “so stop taking your birth control if you want to keep your baby.” megumi’s green eyes peered over at you, interested in what you had to say about that.

“what if i want to get an abortion…?” you asked quietly. megumi’s eyes now wide in horror. 'how could you even think about abortion?' he thought.

shoko sighed, “i think that’s something you should have a serious talk with gojo about. it would be unfair for him not to know.”

you weren’t sure if you should feel excited, nervous, or scared. you were excited because who wouldn’t want to have a child with the love of their life? you were nervous (and scared) because you didn’t know how satoru would react if you told him. you were scared because your unborn baby would be a target to all rival clans, inheriting all of yours and satoru’s enemies. not only that, but also a target for all intelligent curses as well.

later that night: the gojo/(l/n) household

“how was your yearly check up?” satoru asked as you poked at your medium rare steak that you probably shouldn’t be eating now that you were pregnant. he watched you as you rolled a roasted baby potato around your plate with your fork.

“it was fine. healthy as a horse.” you recycled your joke from this afternoon. satoru furrowed his brows, he sensed something was wrong. you were fine this morning, so what happened between the time you went to work and the time you got home?

“are you sure…?” he started to pry.

annoyance starting to rise in your tone. you kissed the back of your teeth, “i just don’t feel well… and the steak is too rare.” you lied. you always ate your steak medium rare. rareness did not bother you, the cow could still be mooing and you’d eat it.

“i can always put it back on the grill, babe. want it medium?”

“well-done, please.” you mumbled, “thanks, sweetheart.”

satoru picked up your plate, extremely confused on why all of a sudden you would eat a well-done steak. it was very unlike you. he kissed you on the cheek to try to ease whatever it was that was bugging you. you wanted to tell him so badly that you were pregnant. you never kept secrets from each other. you watched him slide on his slippers, opening the door to the patio with catoru following behind him. he slapped your steak on the grill again while looking out at the tokyo skyline.

during this time, you wondered what kind of father satoru would be. you imagined he would be the carefree type of dad. he would be the fun, loving, lenient father while you were the one to lay down the rules. that’s how it was when you were both raising megumi and tsumiki. your eyes started to well up with tears at the thought of satoru possibly becoming a father. was this the pregnancy hormones getting to you?

you quickly wiped your tears as satoru made his way back into the apartment with your steak. he closed the door behind him and sat down next to you at the dining table.

“why were you crying just barely?” he asked softly. he could sense your cursed energy wavering from the patio. he knew every mood you were in just because of how your cursed energy looked to his six eyes.

“i wasn’t crying,” you said adamantly, “my eyes were itchy.”

satoru understood that whatever was bothering you, you didn’t want to talk about it. normally, he would pry and pry until you would finally tell him what was wrong, but tonight, he felt that he shouldn’t. he cut your steak into bite-sized cubes for you, just like how you always did before you started eating.

you caressed his cheek with your hand, giving him a soft smile in appreciation.

“should we go get some ice cream with the kids tomorrow? i promise i’ll treat.” he asked, knowing that ice cream always made you feel better after a shitty day.

“yeah. i need that dairy-free double scoop of chocolate ice cream right now.” (read ‘seeing red’ here)

the next day

you had taken half a day off to meet satoru, nobara, yuji, and megumi in shibuya to grab the ice cream that satoru promised you last night. you and satoru walked next to each together as your spirit birds flew overhead. the students were following behind you with their ice cream cones.

“i still can’t believe gojo-sensei has been dating (y/n)-sensei for over 10 years.” nobara hissed at her two partners as she watched you and satoru walking together in front of them.

“why is it hard to believe? sensei is a pretty good looking dude.” yuji said nonchalantly.

megumi sighed and explained, “that’s not the point, itadori. the point is that (y/n)-sensei is way out of his league.”

“you seem pretty close to her, fushiguro.” yuji pointed out, noticing that megumi always defended you no matter what the topic was.

“i kinda owe her and gojo-sensei my life.” megumi grumbled, “they took me in when i was five.”

nobara looked at him, wide-eyed, “you mean… they adopted you when they were 18?! and (y/n)-sensei is basically like your mom?! oh my god! he needs to put a ring on her immediately for all he puts her through!”

megumi knew the reason why you two weren’t married yet. it was for your safety, not because gojo-sensei didn’t want to. he would’ve married you right after high school graduation if that was the case.

you giggled to yourself as you scooped chocolate ice cream to feed to satoru. he grabbed the spoon from you, licking it clean.

“their conversation is so funny.” you said to him.

“are you listening to them with your shikigami? you’re so nosy.” satoru playfully chastised you.

you called back your birds with your hand signal as they flew closer to you and satoru. they seemed to be flying happily as no danger was around. “your students are wondering why we aren’t married yet.”

“you already know why.” satoru put the spoon back into your ice cream.

“you don’t want to make me a target.” you recited back to him. satoru gojo believed that if you were to marry him, you would be a target and gain all his and the gojo clan’s enemies. that would make you the achilles' heel to the strongest sorcerer known to man.

“it’s not like people don’t know that we’re together.” you rolled your eyes, “i can take care of myself, satoru. i'm pretty sure the kamo clan is out for my head as we speak.” (read ‘love at first fight’ here)

“i know you can take care of yourself. i just think it’s safer this way.” he shrugged.

“but i want to have kids too. i’m not getting any younger.” you inserted, hoping he’d take the bait to talk about having kids.

“what are you talking about? we have two kids, megumi and tsumiki.” satoru said nonchalantly, you wanted to face palm your forehead to how oblivious he was.

digging deeper, you added, “i want kids with white hair and blue eyes running around.”

“hate to break it to you sweetheart, but they won’t be getting blue eyes. there can only be one six eyes in a lifetime, you already know that.”

“what about your white hair?” you tip-toed to ruffle his hair as he laughed, grabbing your hand.

“what about your black hair and beautiful green eyes that i love so much?” satoru grinned at you, “if you want, we can practice reproducing later tonight?”

you threw an ice shard at him, hitting his infinity. “no inappropriate jokes around the students, please.” you chastised him as he winked at you. you scooped another bite of ice cream into your mouth as you frowned.

“so feisty… i’m in for a world of trouble if our future kids ever get your attitude.”

“if that’s the case… you better get ready.” you muttered under your breath.

satoru didn’t hear your comment. “hmmm? what’d you say?” he asked.

“nothing, eat your ice cream.” you replied, quickly shoving another spoonful in his mouth.

"ouch, brain freeze." satoru grimaced.

one week later

time was ticking as the baby in your stomach was growing. you had to tell satoru you were pregnant.

your morning sickness was horrible. you didn’t want satoru to catch onto anything, so whenever you felt sick, you ran to the bathroom near megumi’s room across the apartment instead of your master bathroom. (see the apartment layout here)

“babe?” satoru found you in the guest bathroom, hurled over the toilet, dry heaving. “are you okay?” he crouched down to pull your hair back, “do we need to go see shoko?”

“no, it’s fine.” you pushed him away, “leave me alone, please. i don't want to you see me like this.”

“and why would i leave you alone? there's clearly something going on with your health again.” he comforted you, rubbing firm circles on your upper back.

after your morning sickness session in the bathroom subsided, you miserably dragged your feet back to your bathroom to brush your teeth. satoru leaned against the bathroom door frame, arms folded. you turned to face him.

“don’t you have a mission today?” you asked him, hoping that he'd leave soon.

“yeah, i do. but don’t change the subject. what is going on? are you sick?” satoru asked. the past week you had unintentionally become distant and avoided having deep conversations with him. he felt the cold shoulder from you emotionally and he hated it. he was starting to get fed up.

“no. i’m not sick.”

“do you have some type of terminal illness or something that you’re not telling me about?”

“no, satoru!” you scoffed in disbelief. he was so smart and cunning in battle, how could he not put 2+2 together for something as simple as this?

“do you want to break up with me? is that it? are you tired of me?” he asked quietly.

how could he ask you that after 10 years of putting up with him?

“no!!!” you shouted at him.

“then what is it, (y/n)?!” he finally snapped after a week of trying to be patient, “what are you hiding from me?” satoru’s voice raised an octave as he got more frustrated as the conversation was going nowhere.

you couldn’t handle it anymore. you clenched your fists, water started pouring out of the apartment faucets and showers from your raging cursed energy.

“i’m pregnant!” you shouted back at him.

satoru lifted his blindfold, his blue eyes widened, jaw dropped. it was as if time stood still for him. the only thing he could hear was the sound of your angry breathing and all the faucets flowing throughout the apartment.

“what…?” satoru whispered, “that can’t happen. you’re on birth control.”

“that’s what i thought too. but shoko confirmed it.” you told him as tears started to form on your long dark lashes.

“damn it… damn it. damn it!” satoru hissed. he ran his fingers through his hair, pushing off his blindfold and throwing it at the bathroom counter. “why didn’t you tell me?”

his reaction hurt your feelings, “because i didn’t know what your reaction would be and clearly you’re not happy about it.”

“how far along are you?” he asked, ignoring your comment. he walked towards you to stand beside you, putting his hand on top of yours. you flinched as you took your hand back to wipe your tears away.

“6 weeks. it’s early enough that i can get an abortion.” you sniffled.

“just… don’t make any decisions right now.” he said. it sounded like he was begging you, “we can talk more when i get back from this damn mission.”

satoru leaned towards you. he grabbed the side of your head to kiss your temple, “i love you, (y/n). i'm not mad at you.” he whispered.

satoru’s mission

it took everything in satoru not to leave you behind at the apartment alone after the way he reacted. why did he have to be assigned such a lowly mission? any of the students could’ve handled it, so why did it have to be him out of all people and out of all the days?

he teleported to shinagawa where it was reported that a curse was terrorizing an elementary school. it looked deserted when he arrived at the front gate.

satoru raised two fingers to put up a veil, “emerge from darkness, blacker still. purify that which is impure.”

he walked into the school, his six eyes sensing the curse right away. it couldn’t have been more than a grade 2 or 3. he heard a bloodcurdling scream, leading him to the gymnasium.

“please help!” a woman’s voice screamed and begged as the curse towered over her. satoru teleported in front of the woman and swiftly blasted the curse away with sheer force, exorcising it immediately.

“are you alright?” satoru turned to ask the woman. he stopped dead in his tracks.

she was pregnant.

“please sir, save my baby.” she begged as she was bleeding from her abdomen. her hands and arms shielding her womb protectively. the curse must’ve already injured her before satoru arrived. he kicked himself for his late arrival. he could’ve prevented this if he came earlier.

he lifted the injured woman in his arms, “don’t worry. i’ll save you. nothing will happen to you or your baby.” he promised as he teleported to the closest hospital.

tokyo shinagawa hospital

“it looks like the patient and her baby will be fine. she was close to full term. if she lost any more blood, her and the baby would’ve died.” the doctor reported back to satoru as ijichi stood next to him, documenting everything for the report that he would have to fill out later.

satoru was deep in thought about how this woman begged him to save her baby and not herself. it was the fact that she so selflessly put her baby first that really got to him.

he thought about you and what you would’ve done if you were in that woman’s shoes. he knew that you would protect your baby with your life because he would do the exact same thing. satoru felt his protective instinct skyrocket now more than ever.

satoru’s heart felt heavy. he immediately felt guilty knowing that you thought he didn't want to have kids and how hard this must have been for you the past week. he wanted to be there for you, but he was terrified of the unknown. would he be a good father? would he be able to protect this baby? and were you even happy being pregnant with his child?

“ijichi, can you take care of the rest? i have somewhere i need to be.” satoru asked impatiently.

ijichi complained, “are you sure you’re not just trying to pawn off your work to me?”

“there are two people who need me right now.” satoru waved as he teleported back to the apartment. the two people in question? you and the baby that was growing in your belly.

back at the apartment

you felt satoru’s cursed energy appear as he teleported back into the living room. he walked towards you and hugged you tightly, surprising you.

“can’t. breathe.” you said as your face was squished into his firm chest.

he immediately let go of you, scared he hurt the baby by embracing you so tightly.

“i know what you're thinking, the baby is fine.” you said as you hugged him back even tighter in return, “did you know the baby is the size of a sweet pea according to my baby tracking app? so they wouldn't have even felt that hug.”

“that’s pretty small.” he said, chuckling softly. he paused to take a deep breath, he then looked down at you, “can we talk?”

you nodded as he guided you back to the couch, sitting down in the soft white cushions as he sat on the floor in front of you, holding your hands.

he looked you in the eyes, “don’t get an abortion, (y/n).”

you blinked twice, “well, that’s not what i was expecting. what changed your mind?”

“i never said i didn’t want kids, babe.” satoru said defensively.

you mumbled as you folded your arms, “you made it sound like you didn’t. and your reaction when i told you i was pregnant earlier today doesn’t support that statement.” avoiding eye contact with him.

he grabbed your hands again and explained his point of view, “i was upset that you hid it from me. and i was surprised because you were on birth control which is supposed to prevent pregnancy. and i was really fucking scared.”

“scared? the satoru gojo scared of a baby the size of a sweet pea?” you emphasized. he furrowed his eyebrows at you.

“i had a come-to-jesus moment during my mission.” he started to say, “(y/n), i’d do anything for you. just like you would for me. but now… we can’t put each other first anymore. we have to set our priorities elsewhere.”

“what do you mean by that?”

“we have to think of this baby and how this baby will always come first now.”

you were quiet, processing what satoru just said. yours and satoru's lives were going to drastically change. this baby would be your number one priority in life. you and satoru spent the last decade caring deeply for each other and being each other's prime concern, now this baby would come first.

you realized that he was terrified of having this baby be the center of his universe, knowing that the baby would be defenseless without you and him. satoru wanted to protect this baby with his life, just like the mother he saved today who wanted to save her baby's life.

being a parent meant that you would always have your heart living outside of your body, and that would make you vulnerable to extreme pain, but also let you experience indescribable love. and that was something you were willing to risk experiencing in life with satoru.

“you're right, babe. i agree.” you said softly, you held his cheek in your hand. “you really want to do this? you really want to be a dad?”

“hell yes i want this.” satoru said confidently, holding your hand against his cheek.

“how dare you get me pregnant, satoru gojo.” you jokingly reprimanded him.

he kneeled forward into you as he kissed you softly, “sorry, it was an accident.”

EXTRA:

“babe! show me this baby app you’ve been using this past week.” satoru demanded playfully as he pulled you into his lap. you grinned as you grabbed your phone to pull up the ‘what to expect’ app.

“so! baby gojo is the size of a sweet pea or a nail head. and they’re .25 inches small.”

"baby gojo... i like the sound of that." he smiled at the thought. he nodded, a signal for you to continue.

“it says that baby gojo’s face is forming and taking shape! i hope they don’t get your big head...” you laughed as satoru frowned.

“my head is not big!” he defended himself, “moving on.”

“it says that the heart starts to pulse around this time and we should be able to hear a heartbeat at my first pre-natal appointment…” you said with a smile.

“i’ll make sure i request that day off.”

“you better! or i’ll have a word with principal yaga.” you smacked his chest playfully with the back of your hand. “baby gojo supposedly looks like a tadpole with a tiny tail. and i won’t feel any movement for awhile.”

“so you can’t feel it move or anything?” satoru asked curiously.

“no, but i’m feeling these pregnancy symptoms.” you complained, “my boobs hurt, my heartburn is worse than usual, and the morning sickness is killing me.”

“okay, so basically, don’t touch your boobs anymore, carry extra tums for you, and hold your hair for you when you throw up in the morning. got it.” satoru noted.

you glared at him with your emerald green eyes, “please stop talking.”

wanna know how the rest of oc gojo girlfriend's pregnancy goes? read the next chapter, ‘milestones’ here.

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