jamal127

[jamal127]

HSIUHIWF9UWQHPUOGSVHP9ERWUFHDC

HI MY FAVVVV <333333 :D

could I request a rockstar Carlos and his fem assistant trying to keep their relationship a secret please? :3

YESSSSS HHIIII !!! IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG

The sound of your heels clicking against the tiled the floor echoed throughout the hallway as you made your way through the building, carrying a little clipboard with you.

Another artist wanted to collaborate with Carlos, so here you were on your way to go and tell him. So many artists were jumping at the chance, though it was rare he'd accept.

It was no lie that Carlos was good looking, a real heart breaker. You saw how girls would eye his posters, or act at his concerts; like he was the best thing since sliced bread.

Too bad for them though, the position of being his girlfriend has already been filled. By none other than you.

Before you could blink you found yourself stood outside the door of the studio Carlos was practicing in,

'recording room 3'

Your knuckles rapped against the wooden door gently, three times as you waited for your boyfriend to open up.

The door swung open, revealing the tall, shaggy haired man that you loved, the bulky headphones resting around his neck.

"doll!" He exclaimed, his face lit up, enveloping his arms around you. Nearly making the clipboard slip out of your grasp in the process, he looks both ways to make sure no one was around before dragging you inside.

"was just thinkin' bout you" he teases, pressing a kiss to your soft lips before resting his forehead against yours. A dopey grin spread on his lips.

While dating Carlos was a dream come true, one down side was having to keep the relationship a secret.

Carlos knew that if anyone found out, it would be hell on earth for the both of you. The press would go wild, constantly pestering him for information about you.

His fangirls would go crazy, either swooning over how cute you were together or borderline obsessed with the idea that they were meant to have him. Not you.

"hi, love" you return with a warm smile, both hands planted on the bulk of his chest as you gazed up at him with such bright eyes. It made Carlos' heart hurt.

"what can I do for you, my little assistant?" He teased, plopping down on the sofa in the room and bringing you with him. Sat on his lap.

You snort in amusement, running your fingers through his shaggy hair before turning your attention to what you came here for.

"well, someone else wants to collab with you" you start, flipping through the papers quickly "His name is Leon, Leon Kennedy"

"Leon? I know him, he's the drummer of that one band. Remember him?"

You nodded, remembering the blonde haired man you'd once met. Carlos knew you were a fan and got you a backstage pass to meet him.

"yeah, I remember. He was nice" you remark, setting the clipboard aside on the small coffee table.

"You interested?" You ask, draping an arm over his shoulder.

"hmm, I think I'm more interested in loving my girlfriend right now" Carlos purrs before smothering your face in kisses.

He didn't leave an inch untouched, pecking your forehead, the apple of your cheeks, nose, chin,

Then planting a big, fat kiss to your lips.

You couldn't help but giggle in delight, your own hand making a home on the back of his head; fingers tangled in the dark locks of his hair.

"Carlos!" You call out, a big smile on your face as you relished in his warm affections. Your heart flipped, filled with warm and love for your boyfriend.

"let me love you" he huffed in enjoyment, finished his attack by stuffing his face in the crook of your neck. Inhaling your scent before letting out a deep sigh into your skin.

It became a calm, intimate moment between the two of you. It almost made you not care about the relationship with Carlos public. Almost.

It wasn't until you felt a hand wander near the hem of the pencil skirt you were wearing, big and warm.

"hey!" You exclaim, shooing his hand away "not in the studio." You scolded him, though there was no bite beneath your words.

Carlos barked out a laugh, finding amusement in your attempts to be stern with him.

"fine, fine. I apologise, miss"

You roll your eyes, unable to bite back the giddy grin you had spread on your lips.

You spend the next few minutes practically wrapped up in Carlos embrace. Though there was no safer place than his strong arms. This is where you were meant to be, assistant or not.

"so, how bout that collab? Mr. Oliveira"

You teased him with the last part, watching his shoulders shake in silent laughter.

"fine, I'll do somethin' with him." He answers, squeezing you momentarily. "I'll even score you backstage passes to his next concert"

Yeah, his fangirls can all kiss your ass, Carlos is yours.

[jamal127]

no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, experimental, logarithmic, while i gasp for air, scream and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cow girl, doggy, backwards, forwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, first clenching, ear rining, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling. teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy, moan inducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious, gushy, creamy, beastly, lip bitting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, cant walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eyelash removing, eye widening, pussy popping, nail stractching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell desolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magniticent, unique, extraordinary, slendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening, devils tangos, he could put a nuclear bomb inside me and i'd still ride it and I would give this man the sloppiest, wettest, creamiest, soul taking, slimy, life changing, death DROPPING, heaven sent, flabbergasting, hypnotising, ungodly, astonishing, leg trembling, back arched, hands desperately grabbing the sheets, legs stretching out again and again, toe curling, voice breaking, whimper causing, waist slowly moving up and down, small heavy breath " I can't take much more of this", breaths getting quicker, twitching, throbbing, eyes shut, lip biting, edging begging for relief, warm hot rush bubbling up, spit upon the tongue twisting ground tip-talking against the mouth, sideways spit from the end and lick from the bottom to the top then spit and lick to the bottom, deepthroating, thrusting slower then faster, faster, FASTER twisting mouth around each side, spiritually enlightening, chakra aligning, mangekyo sharigan unlocking, golden light like a halo, noise from the very edge of his throat for the final, hardest release ever....and THEN I'd let him pound me so FUCKING HARD UNTIL HE IMPREGNATES ME WITH HIS BABIES.

[jamal127]

Suguru is the hottest dad in the kindergarten pick up line. He has a charming personality and is always on time. His car is always first in line, blasting Black Sabbath and Metallica as he waits, leaning back against the car. His arms crossed and his sleeves riding up to show just a hint of ink on his upper arms.

It really is no surprise that all the Mothers (both single and not) flock to him like moths to a flame. They try not to be too obvious about it and make up little excuses to talk to him, like getting that cookie recipe he made for the school bake sale a few months ago and so on.

You are not completely oblivious to his magnetic pull but your position as the girl’s teacher puts you in a bind. You really don’t want to date one of the Dads of your kids. As much as you would love to give into his advances you want to keep it professional.

Sadly you are failing miserably at it.

His funny little quips and deep chuckles turn you into a blushing mess. He seems to enjoy that, pushing you as far as he can get. Suguru always has an innocent smile on his face as he shamelessly flirts with you as you hand over the twins. You feel like you may have a heart attack if this continues.

After a particularly hard week your car breaks down. You don’t exactly know what is wrong with it considering you only know how to change a tire and absolutely nothing else. Luckily you aren’t too far from a car shop.

You call the car shop and they send someone out to tow you in. The man sent out, who you can see from his name badge is Sukuna, is gruff and barely talks to you as he instructs you to put into neutral so he can hook up your car to the back of his truck.

You sigh in relief once you are at the car shop. Sukuna doesn’t say anything after his job is done, he just walks away. He is a little rude but at least you aren’t on the side of the road somewhere so you don’t mention it.

“Well-” Suguru’s teasing voice comes from behind you, “I never thought I would see you here.”

His grin is wide and shows off a pair of silver snake bites you have never seen before. He looks up and down horribly slow. You try to formulate a basic sentence but come up short.

“I- umm- I- broke down.” You offer to him and he chuckles.

“I see that. Let me take a look at it.”

You watch as he checks your car over. He knows what he is doing and you just hope that he can fix it so you don’t have to get a new car. Getting a new car on teacher’s salary would suck.

“It’s the battery-” Suguru wipes his hands off with a rag as he tells you his diagnosis, “the battery has also damaged the alternator so we will have to replace both to make sure that the alternator doesn’t damage a new battery.”

You nod with a dejected expression, at least you don’t have to get a new car.

“Also, I will need to keep it here for a few days while we wait for a new alternator.” He says and you try not to panic.

How will you get to work? You need your car!

“I know that it will be difficult to find a ride so do you want me to take you? We do go to the same place every day.” His offer is genuine and a little nervous if you look closely.

Maybe accepting his help won’t be so bad.

“Sure.”

[jamal127]

Jealous Carlos then make up sex

ᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇ

unread.

warnings - 18+ and cream pie :)

Carlos didn't really think of himself to be a jealous guy, but when it came to you, you who were able to crawl under his skin as if you planned to wear it, you who made him feel possessive when he didn't really think of himself to be possessive.

Yet when your fingers gently brushed against the body of one of his comrades, or you shared a smile to someone else, dark thoughts clouded his mind. A strange feeling of obsession crept into his veins like an incoming storm of a collapse of balance, his balance.

When you started avoiding him--well that's what Carlos called it. When you started speaking to him less, smiling to him less and barely laughing at his jokes. His mind jumped to a conclusion, the conclusion being:

"You're with someone else aren't you?" He questioned as he stepped forward, his hair tousled some of the curly locks curtained her eyes, but with a smooth adjustment they slipped away and crowned his head.

His jaws were clenched as if he held his breath, as if he gently prayed that the conclusion he leaped towards was just an outcome of one of his petty ideas.

You sneered at him. "You can't be that insecure can you?" You poked as you placed your hand against your hip, he pouted. His eyes doe yet hastily masked by a veil of superiority. Gently, he pointed his nose up.

"Think better of me." He commented, you searched for the humour in his tone. It was rarely there, which was uncommon. Carlos joked no matter what situation the both of you found yourselves in.

You responded with nothing, your silence annoyingly challenged him. No matter how many times he tried--no matter how times he attempted to work your pulling and enticing magic off him, his knees buckled. His heart buckled and now he bit the inside of his cheek.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he expressed.

“I have.” You confessed.

He clenched his jaw again and briefly, so birefly---almost like a glitch his fists almost balled. “Why?” He questioned his voice strong, straight as if he dared his speech to tremble. “What is it about me that had you avoid me? Would you have even spoken to me if I didn’t corner you like this?”

Partially, he was true. When Carlos was sure you’d be alone in the office he traced your footsteps and locked the entrance behind him. You weren’t surprised when you saw his figure step through the threshold, but a tug in your stomach did feel relatively guilty that you did not say anything to him.  

Your smug smile was no where to be seen, and you didn’t realise how low your eyes looked as well as you didn’t realise you paused until his voice ripped through the silence. “[Y/N].” He called, his tone stern, so piercing that it caused you to flick your head up at him and when he saw the emotions you carried in your eyes, his shoulders relaxed.

“You’ve always been so emotional,” you gently smiled and before he could curve his eyes at your audacity you spoke again. “That’s what I love about you.

Silent, Carlos’ eyebrows furrowed. As if he thought he had been told an awful joke. “Don’t lie,” he said. It almost sounded like a beg. “Don’t lie---how can you love me when you’ve been avoiding me?”

“You idiot!” You cried out. “I did not want to face the fact that I did, but seeing how it’s hurting you---” you gently dropped her shoulders. “I----I’m so sorry.”

“Prove it.” He commanded.

Stunned you stared at him, his eyes dark but glossy as if he forced them to not shake. Though his eyes challenged you, to prove it. Somehow prove that you ached for him the way he ached for you, and without second thought. You pulled your body closer to him and kissed him, your lips embraced the poutiness of his warm mouth that echoed a moan when he felt you press yourself harder.

Your thighs clenched, unsuprised that you fell into a lewd spiral by just being held. He normally did that to you, his big body, his warmth and the way he so easily become excited.

You felt it, rise against the crease of your thighs but he did nothing. Unsure if you’d want it, but the way he sucked on your lips and kissed you as if you would disappear tomorrow sent shivers through your body.

Carlos groaned against your mouth, eyes closed as he used his weight to push you against a collar while he slipped down your pants. “I missed this,” he whispered as he pulled his mouth away from yours, his lips then pecked the area of your face and lightly you giggled.

“Do you think you can take me here?” He challenged and softly you bit your lips as you felt his mouth press against the side of your head. Enticed, you pressed down your hand down his clothes, your warm fingers immediately met with his thickness it was stiff and his thickness throbbed like it urged to be sprung out.

Carlos’ mouth met with yours again and his breath feathered against your lips when he felt the gentless of your fingers meet with the opening of his slit. It pressured into a moan when he felt you grip him, his hands moved desperately to slipp of your clothing and when your legs were bare one hand met with the back of your head and the other slid between your thighs.

You were wet, slick as you could feel your pearl pulse for him. “She’s always ready for me.” He teased and you pressed yourself against him, your hands moved in a hasty motion as you felt him jerk his hips upwards. “Oh---God…right---like that---” he breathed whilst he circled your swell with his fingers. “Right fucking there Princess---” he stuttered as something quickly shifted in him, he snatched his digits away from your slick and moved his body towards your sex.

You opened your eyes, sight met with his hardness that oozed pre-cum with a vexxing red tip. He sighed in your scent, his face crooked between the dip of your neck as he lined himself under you. You felt the shadow of his dick ghost below your clit and you whimpered as slowly you looked up at him and saw how serious he looked.

His brown eyes stared with an intensity, and the lower lip trembled as he felt the open of his slit brush against your pearl and in sync the both of you had moaned at the brief friction. The touch minimal, yet the effect was piercing. He slowly pushed himself further, his pressure hardened every second and when you felt his length slowly sink into you, his knees buckled.

Your gasp was caught in your throat as your cunt fixed around him, for a moment he stood there. Trembled as he held himself from losing his control, but when he regained composure and pulled his hips backwards, his skin connected against your body once more once he commenced a slow rhythm.

He gritted his teeth, but you could hear the way he chanted your name like a prayer while he slowly lost himself inside of you. Whereas you, remained silent, but not out of displeasure but out of shocking bliss. Your eyes curved to the back of your head while your body was smooth and heated relaxed against him.

“That’s it---” he whispered as his pace picked up. His hands moved to the shape of your jaw, holding you as if you were his distinction. “That’s it, tight around me…” he muttered as he shadowed his lips above yours, you moaned in response, your noses gently pressed against each other fore he tilted his head to kiss you once more.

You groaned into his mouth, your body wobbled against his touch but Carlos held you tight as he continued to fuck himself into you, your body pressed against the shaking cold lockers arched. Your clothed chest pressed against his as you felt yourself near. You curved your eyes into the back of your head while you used your strength to curl your leg around his waist to push him harder against you.

Carlos gently cried into your mouth, his lips slipped from yours and his face returned to the corner of your neck. His hands now propped to your sides, caging you between his arms as he struggled to hold himself back. “[Y/N]---” he whined as he commenced to milk himself inside of you, your eyes fluttered just as you felt the warmth of his slick fill you.

You whined while your arms circled his shoulders. A smooth strength woke inside of you and you used the power to buck your hips forward as your cunt throbbed around him. “Carlos! Carlos!” You chanted during the time your nectar coated around him, creaming his shaft he resumed to thrust deeper and deeper.

The moment he pulled away you body shuddered to the lack of fullness, his hands left your skin and his brown eyes gazed into yours. “Don’t avoid me ever again.” He commanded and gently you nodded your head. “Promise me, say it. Say you’ll never avoid me again.”

Without hesitating you replied. “I promise.”

masterlist

[jamal127]

HSIUHIWF9UWQHPUOGSVHP9ERWUFHDC

HI MY FAVVVV <333333 :D

could I request a rockstar Carlos and his fem assistant trying to keep their relationship a secret please? :3

YESSSSS HHIIII !!! IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG

The sound of your heels clicking against the tiled the floor echoed throughout the hallway as you made your way through the building, carrying a little clipboard with you.

Another artist wanted to collaborate with Carlos, so here you were on your way to go and tell him. So many artists were jumping at the chance, though it was rare he'd accept.

It was no lie that Carlos was good looking, a real heart breaker. You saw how girls would eye his posters, or act at his concerts; like he was the best thing since sliced bread.

Too bad for them though, the position of being his girlfriend has already been filled. By none other than you.

Before you could blink you found yourself stood outside the door of the studio Carlos was practicing in,

'recording room 3'

Your knuckles rapped against the wooden door gently, three times as you waited for your boyfriend to open up.

The door swung open, revealing the tall, shaggy haired man that you loved, the bulky headphones resting around his neck.

"doll!" He exclaimed, his face lit up, enveloping his arms around you. Nearly making the clipboard slip out of your grasp in the process, he looks both ways to make sure no one was around before dragging you inside.

"was just thinkin' bout you" he teases, pressing a kiss to your soft lips before resting his forehead against yours. A dopey grin spread on his lips.

While dating Carlos was a dream come true, one down side was having to keep the relationship a secret.

Carlos knew that if anyone found out, it would be hell on earth for the both of you. The press would go wild, constantly pestering him for information about you.

His fangirls would go crazy, either swooning over how cute you were together or borderline obsessed with the idea that they were meant to have him. Not you.

"hi, love" you return with a warm smile, both hands planted on the bulk of his chest as you gazed up at him with such bright eyes. It made Carlos' heart hurt.

"what can I do for you, my little assistant?" He teased, plopping down on the sofa in the room and bringing you with him. Sat on his lap.

You snort in amusement, running your fingers through his shaggy hair before turning your attention to what you came here for.

"well, someone else wants to collab with you" you start, flipping through the papers quickly "His name is Leon, Leon Kennedy"

"Leon? I know him, he's the drummer of that one band. Remember him?"

You nodded, remembering the blonde haired man you'd once met. Carlos knew you were a fan and got you a backstage pass to meet him.

"yeah, I remember. He was nice" you remark, setting the clipboard aside on the small coffee table.

"You interested?" You ask, draping an arm over his shoulder.

"hmm, I think I'm more interested in loving my girlfriend right now" Carlos purrs before smothering your face in kisses.

He didn't leave an inch untouched, pecking your forehead, the apple of your cheeks, nose, chin,

Then planting a big, fat kiss to your lips.

You couldn't help but giggle in delight, your own hand making a home on the back of his head; fingers tangled in the dark locks of his hair.

"Carlos!" You call out, a big smile on your face as you relished in his warm affections. Your heart flipped, filled with warm and love for your boyfriend.

"let me love you" he huffed in enjoyment, finished his attack by stuffing his face in the crook of your neck. Inhaling your scent before letting out a deep sigh into your skin.

It became a calm, intimate moment between the two of you. It almost made you not care about the relationship with Carlos public. Almost.

It wasn't until you felt a hand wander near the hem of the pencil skirt you were wearing, big and warm.

"hey!" You exclaim, shooing his hand away "not in the studio." You scolded him, though there was no bite beneath your words.

Carlos barked out a laugh, finding amusement in your attempts to be stern with him.

"fine, fine. I apologise, miss"

You roll your eyes, unable to bite back the giddy grin you had spread on your lips.

You spend the next few minutes practically wrapped up in Carlos embrace. Though there was no safer place than his strong arms. This is where you were meant to be, assistant or not.

"so, how bout that collab? Mr. Oliveira"

You teased him with the last part, watching his shoulders shake in silent laughter.

"fine, I'll do somethin' with him." He answers, squeezing you momentarily. "I'll even score you backstage passes to his next concert"

Yeah, his fangirls can all kiss your ass, Carlos is yours.

[jamal127]

the drawing(s) that inspired the papamin au 🐅 series

[jamal127]

PLOT — Gojo wrote everyone letters before the Shinjuku Showdown, and it's time you finally opened yours.

CREW'S NOTES — disregarded working on a full fic rn in terms of some quick angst that actually did sober me up a bit 😁

You stare at it, the same letters sloped in scrawled, quick handwriting. Your name, scribbled on the front, and the paper is soft. What little choice do you have but to open it with careful fingers?

The moment the paper unfurls, you know.

He knew. Gojo must have known what the fight with Sukuna would entail. You look past his iteration of your name, the strokes heavy as if a hand had hesitated and allowed ink to pool underneath.

I thought about saying this in person. But you know me, always showing off when I should be serious, and being serious when I should be joking. Besides, if I looked you in the eye and said this, I think I'd lose my nerve.

I'm sorry.

I think I'm going to die.

Maybe not. Maybe, I'll win and we'll laugh about this, and you'll tease me for being overly dramatic. (Please go easy on me, I'm very fragile).

But if you're reading this, I guess I didn't make it and that bastard got the best of me, and I can only hope he didn't mess up my pretty face too bad. Sorry, I guess you're not laughing.

There's a lot I could say. A lot I should say. But none of it matters more than this: You made me so happy. God, you made me the happiest man on earth.

I don't know what it says about me that I was a sudden fool for Cupid, I fell in love with your quick, clever mouth and your eyes, and that spine made of steel that got into my bones so deep that I couldn't breathe sometimes.

You always looked at me like I was someone. Not just the strongest, not just a weapon. You touched me like I was worthy of love, and held me like I was yours. And I was, I am and I think I always will be. And when we next see each other again, I would still be yours.

If I could have built a world just for us, I would have. A stupidly big estate with ceiling windows for days, a dumb house that hates me, silk sheets you'd complain about, and a kitchen you would never use. I would love to introduce everyone to the new head of the Gojo clan, though you wouldn't have to take my name if you didn't want to. I wanted to see you, pretty in blue and silver silks, and I'd kiss your ring like a priest in love with his god, and scandalise all those fussy elders.

I wanted to grow old with you. Can you believe that? Me. Old.

White hair, back pain, stealing kisses from you like teenagers in love. I would have watched you glow in the sunlight, and watched you live besides me. And you would probably outlive me by a hundred years.

So, if I haven't come back, if this is truly it, then please remember me not for how I died (I'm actually a bit squeamish, so I hope it wasn't too messy), but for how I loved you. Because I did. I do.

And if there's any kind of after, I'll be there and I'll wait for you. Please don't forget to look for me, no matter how many years pass. Just remember to look for the smiling lovesick fool with snow in his hair, and hands in his pocket.

I love you.

Forever your idiot, Forever yours, Gojo Satoru

[jamal127]

Im gonna be so unoriginal and say save a horse ride a cowboy 🤠

[jamal127]

Some real close friends

[jamal127]

Seeing you in a desi outfit for the first time

♡ Suguru Geto version ♡

Authors note: This isn't really Suguru's "first time" seeing you in a desi fit, but it's exam season, and i'm such a slow writer so please take this humble offeriing😭🙏 Dedicated to this request

At first glance, Suguru would be stunned and surprised at the look of you all ready for Eid. But that look on his face would only last for a moment before he would start to tease you playfully, then drag you in for a kiss by pulling your waist.

It was the first Eid you were going to spend with Suguru since the two of you’s nikkah. You had gotten minimal sleep the night before, because who gets any sleep on chaand raat? (You know what I take that back, the male species sleeps like princesses the night before Eid 🙄). Both of you had looked forward to this day for weeks since Suguru and his family were coming over to yours.

You were upstairs in your room, almost ready. The new pink ghara suit was on, makeup and hair were done, and almost all the jewelry was put on too. You were putting on your last chooriyaan as the doorbell rang at almost 1 pm. The door opened, and you heard several voices, but as you were upstairs, you couldn't hear much.

“Y/N! Come downstairs,” your mother almost screamed in your native language. You hastily went downstairs to go to the living room where you could hear your and Suguru's family chatting in a light-hearted tone. That was until you heard a familiar voice clearing his throat. 

You turned around excitedly to go find the source of the sound. As you entered the hallway, you were met with a tall and handsome figure, whose hair fluttered from the early spring breeze coming through the open door. Your dark brown eyes locked with Suguru’s purple ones. The two of you smiled at each other, not daring to speak nor move, so the moment could last forever.

“Eid Mubarak,” Suguru wished, breaking the silence, keeping his eyes locked on yours. “Eid Mubarak to you too,” you replied.

You stepped closer to him, close enough to smell his signature perfume, which was an oud you had gifted him. His right hand was behind his back, hiding a bouquet of flowers that was peeking from behind his shoulder. They were light pink, matching your outfit. You smiled at the gesture that he had remembered that you were going to wear pink colored clothes.

“Is that for me?” you spoke as your eyes left his to peek at flowers behind his back. But his eyes never left; on the other hand, they followed yours. 

“Depends.” You looked back up at him, tilting your head, slightly scrunching your eyebrows. “If you give me a kiss, the flowers will be all yours, princess.” His mouth turned into the smirk you knew all too well, as if it were the back of your hand. You tried to keep your heart in check and not give in. Suguru knew how your lips longed for his. But two can play this witty game.

You turned your head around to make sure no one was watching the two of you. Then he leaned towards your face, lips first. You copied him and leaned in too. As he closed his eyes and your lips were mere inches away, you moved away and tried to take the flowers from behind his back.

“Your tricks are getting predictable, beautiful.” Suguru chuckled as you stepped back and saw that he had moved the flowers to the front. You rolled your eyes and let out an amused sigh. “Fine, I’ll let you have it your way then.” He placed the bouquet on the table by the door and caught you by surprise as he closed the distance between you by hooking his arm around your waist. Wasting no time, his lips fell on yours. You felt at home in his arms. When he felt you deepening the kiss, he brought you even closer, as a soldier returning to his lover after years of being away. 

You broke the kiss, not because you wanted to, but rationality caught up to you. “We should go before they start to wonder where we are,” you spoke as his thumb brushed over your lips. His other arm was still locked around your waist as if letting it go would mean losing you forever.

He nodded and kissed your forehead. “But first, let me get a good look at how beautiful you look in the gharara.” You stepped back, his arm leaving your waist but holding your hands instead. The sun was hitting you perfectly. “Seen enough?” you asked. “Never,” he answered. You let go of one of his hands as you turn around to walk to the living room, Suguru right behind you with one hand interlinked with yours and the other holding your pink bouquet.

©jamal127 ✧ all rights served. || 2025  (≖ᴗ≖✿)

@uzmacchiato for divider

[jamal127]

Is Two Really Better Than One?

Summary: in which Nanami's wife gets hit with a curse and he comes home to two wives, not one... Warnings: smut, married couple/established relationship, f!reader, threesome, dom!nanami, mention of being used as a sex toy, cunnilingus, penetrative sex, spanking, paizuri, spitting, doggy, dual ride/double cowgirl position, cum eating, fingering, dirty talk, degradation, praise kink, slight size kink, slight yuri action, voyeurism/exhibitionism?, totally inaccurate use of the curse science or whatever, not proofread - like literally not at all sowwy Word Count: 4.5k

Nanami is flabbergasted. 

When he came back home after a long hard day’s work, he was impatiently waiting for his wife’s loving embrace and reviving kiss. There’s a routine you two follow and he upholds it like a knight pledging allegiance to the crown – arrive home at 6pm, you greet him, he takes a shower and changes into comfortable clothes whilst you prepare dinner, and then you dine together. He expected you to be at the front door with an excited grin and open arms, just as you did yesterday and the day before that.

What he wasn’t expecting, however, was two wives waiting for him. 

“Ken! Make her go away,” you scream. 

The other you snarls, “No, you go away.”

Apparently, you’ve been hit by a spirit splitting curse – it fragmented your soul into perfect halves. There is no ‘original wife,’ just two different parts of the same woman he loves. At least, that was how Shoko explained it on the phone. How long the effects will last is indeterminable, though Nanami’s simply glad it’s a harmless consequence and not something more disastrous.

“I want her ugly ass gone, Kento,” you growl.

And other you shrieks. “Excuse me? I am literally you. If I’m ugly, so are you, idiot.”

“Yeah? Well, somehow, I’m just prettier, so suck it.”

Sitting in the living room, he loosens his tie and stares up at the ceiling. He supposes it really was just too much to ask to have peace and quiet in his life, to be able to catch up on some rest and sleep, and have dinner with his wife, his only wife. Right now, the two of you are smacking throw pillows at each other’s faces, exchanging limp blows over his body, and insulting one another.

This animosity is unfounded. She is you and you are her. You are both his wife, with the exact same body, personality, past, hopes and dreams. And yet you’re at each other’s throats like there is a long feud between your warring families. Nanami sighs again. “Please, stop fighting. Let’s just get on with our evening and wait for the effects to subside.”

Both of you press close to him, taking a side each. You cling to his arm, cradling his bicep between your breasts, seeping warmth into his skin through his work shirt. Nanami clears his throat. You smell nice – always do – but right now, the scent of you is engulfing him from all sides. Other you pokes his chest. 

With an accusatory tone, you question, “Why aren’t you pushing her away, Kento?”

He leaves a kiss on your head, hoping to soothe your irritation. “I could never push away my wife, darling. I’d sooner die.”

“But I’m your wife.”

“No, I’m his wife.”

Nanami wraps his arms around the both of you, rubbing comforting circles on your backs; if he doesn’t do something, he might just come out of this with no wife. “You are both my wives. Just as beautiful as the other and just as ferocious. So, there’s no need to fight, alright?”

“Oh my god, what if we’re stuck like this forever? I can’t share you, Ken! I won’t. And! What if you start to like her more than me? I’ll kill myself.”

Gaze softening, he holds you tight. “That won’t happen, my love. It just wouldn’t. I’m confident things will go back to normal soon enough and you’ll be whole again. That’s our biggest concern, not ‘who will I prefer.’ That’s a silly thought; I love you in all the possible shapes and forms you come in. I could never choose just one side of you to love, it’s simply impossible.”

A moment of silence passes. 

“He is such a sweet talker, isn’t he?” You ask yourself.

You reply with a chortle. “The absolute sweetest. Thank god we put up with his grumpy ass before he fell for us.”

His heart swells. To watch you two get along fills him with so much pride and he can’t quite explain it. Perhaps it’s because he loves your smile, the way your cheeks get so plump with the force of it. Maybe it’s because he knows how long you’ve struggled to reconcile with the need to love yourself, truly, and how you find it torturous to confront yourself and see all those flaws he thinks creates your perfect soul. 

Maybe it’s simply because he loves you so much; there’s no need to question it.

“Ugh, get your hands off my husband!”

“No, you get your hands off my husband.”

And Nanami sighs again.

On and off, you two keep bickering, momentarily being quieted by his hushed commands to behave before starting up again shortly after. Slowly losing the will to fight, he accepts his indefinite reality. His house might never know peace again and he might never truly clock off work even once he returns home. It seems, outside of the office, he also has to manage stubborn individuals and rising tension. 

Still, it’s not so bad, he thinks. Having two of you is a blessing; he’s always encouraging you to eat more with the rationale of wanting more of you to love, after all.

But, his reasoning at this moment isn’t so pure.

The feeling of your plush bodies in his grasp is distracting. Two sets of your breasts are bouncing against his sides and in his face with every move you both make. Hands rove all over his body, staking their claim, and teasing the skin underneath his clothes. Nails scrape against his thighs, digging in when you try to control your anger, using him as the punching bag. He needs to keep his cool, to maintain control so he can ease your worries and dispel trouble at any time. But damn it if it isn’t taking a lot of effort to stand his ground. 

“Ken,” one of you whispers in his ear, lips brushing the shell, “you’re hard…”

Looking down, he comes face to face with solid evidence of your observation. How embarrassing – his wife was hurt and is facing an indubitably anxiety-provoking situation whereby she might never recover as whole from again, and despite that, he’s aroused. What kind of man is he?

What kind of terrible husband would be so self-centred?

“We can help… if you’d like.”

The kind that’d be married to you, apparently. 

Speechless, Nanami can do nothing but sit back and let his wife unbuckle his belt whilst the other unzips his trousers. One has a look of complete glee when she finds his hard cock already leaking and the other sports a focused expression, working her hand up and down his length. You really are his wife, split or not. No one could ever touch him so seductively, so enticingly, already threatening to shake his entire foundation with simple grazes. 

He should stop you both, should establish boundaries and get on with dinner. Instead of giving into baser instincts, he should lead by example and ensure your safety and wellbeing by being patient. But…how can he when your velvety palms play with his balls, fascinated by the weight of them?

“Come here, sweetheart,” he mutters, losing all grip on reason. He discards his glasses. “Come give Kento a kiss.” 

Two heads rush to his face. They collide with a bang. Hissing, you throw aggravated looks at each other. “He meant me.”

“Uh, no, he meant me.”

Tutting, he cradles both of your faces and brings one up to his lips. He lays a kiss where you bumped your head and then another to your mouth. Slowly and gently, he indulges in your taste, swallowing your breathy moans and teasing your tongue with his. Then, parting ways, he pushes your head down, eager to feel those juicy lips wrap around his throbbing cock. 

He meets your gaze. “You too, love.”

Mirroring the ministrations, he loses himself in the steamy kiss, groaning into your mouth when the you that’s licking his cock from the base to the very tip slides her wet tongue on the slit. Fuck, he needs more. He needs to feel you. 

A hand of his slides down your body, groping a breast, tweaking the nipple, before it ventures further down to between your legs. You’re soaked. Pussy lips swollen, he wastes no time in working two calloused digits inside. Wet, tight, and hot, he can’t get enough of how your cunt clenches around him. 

“Ah, Ken! So good. Thank you!”

The wife that’s drooling on his balls pouts. “Me too, Ken. Make me feel good too, please.”

He smiles. “My sweet wives, always so polite. Tilt your hips this way, darling, show me your pretty pussy. That’s it. And you, sweetheart, let me kiss your beautiful breasts.”

Now, both of his hands are being thoroughly coated in your wetness, squelching their way inside your pulsing canals. Mouth full of your breast, sucking and flicking your hard nipple, he lets himself be consumed by your scent, your warmth, your softness, and the wondrous sounds of your barely subdued whimpers and squeals. 

Being weighed down by your body, the reminder of your love and need for him, of which reflects his own for you, is the purest form of bliss he never would have thought he was deserving of. There is nothing more rewarding than drawing out your pleasure, than curling his fingers in just right against that gummy spot inside you that pushes out even more sloppy juices, and washing away your fears and worries. 

In this moment, as both of your hips are grinding down onto his hands, he wishes there was another of him. He can meet all your needs at once, overwhelm you with his body and drive you crazy. Then, there’d be no need to be jealous or possessive. Though…Nanami has a dark realisation that perhaps the sight of a cock that isn’t really his pushing its way inside your body would drive him to madness and not the pleasurable kind.

“Fuck, Ken! I’m gonna–”

“Cum!”

You orgasm at the same time as your other half, juices flying and soaking the sofa underneath your bodies. Speckles land on his creased trousers, drowning his hands and dribbling juices down his wrists. Nanami throbs, cock jolting in the cold air.

Slumped over his body, one of your heads perks up. “Hey, uglier me, wanna give him a boob job together?”

“I’m ignoring that insult, bitch, but yeah, whatever.” You roll your eyes and then land a peck on Nanami’s cheek, giving him a wink.

Getting down onto your knees, you force his legs to spread wide to accommodate yourselves. A little frazzled at seeing you two collude and leave him out of the decision making process, no word of complaint can manifest before he throws his head back, unable to stand the sight of impish joy all over your irresistible eyes doubled as you watch his cock bob once and twice. 

“Ugh, isn’t his dick so pretty?”

The kitten licks you leave on his frenulum are your answer. Then, you both wrap your breasts around his cock, nipples kissing each other and his sharp intake of breath elicits giggles. Up and down, you rub his heated length with your supple breasts. His fingers thread through your hair, unable to keep his hands off you. 

“Is it good, Ken? Do you like it?”

Nanami groans. “Y-yes, it feels amazing, sweetheart. You’re so good to me…always so good to your husband, aren’t you?”

Giggling again, you two exchange grins, feeling mighty proud of yourself, he supposes. And he knows he can cum just like this, that his cum will spurt all over your faces and breasts. It’ll coat your plump lips and you’ll be able to taste his salty spend. Lightheaded, he gasps for air, intent to get his bearings, to not let you two have your way with him, but then you surprise him one more time. 

Lips locked, you two make a big show of moaning into each other’s mouths, tongue twisting together in an obscene display that has his heart thumping faster and faster until he’s sure he’s losing his mind. 

You might never stop surprising him no matter how long he’s loved you. 

He can’t take it anymore. The smell of your sweetness, the evidence of your euphoria coating his skin, the doughy blanket of your breasts around his cock is driving him insane. He needs you and he needs you now. In agile haste, he stands and takes his clothes off all while you both watch. 

“I-I need to be inside you, darlings.” There isn’t enough space on the sofa for what he wants. So, with a grunt, he lifts you two and carries your bodies up, biting back a smile when you squeal and giggle, into the bedroom. You both bounce into each other’s embrace when he drops you off on the mattress. “Strip.”

Clumsily, you remove every article of clothing. Your arms get caught in your shirt and your panties get tangled around your ankles. “Ugh, Ken, help.”

“I’m here. I’m here.” He helps you two out, wrangling your clothes off. “There we go, honey. Upsi-daisy.”

Though he might never admit how pleased he gets when he’s needed, he’s sure you know. There’s no way you don’t. You feel the evidence of it when he pins you to the kitchen counter to fetch the plate you’re reaching for and you surely see the way his eyes darken as you place a foot on his lap, wordlessly asking him to clasp your heels on for you.

As soon as your clothes are off, he pounces – sloppily swallowing your wet moans, he devours you and then the other you, swapping and switching till he gets frustrated and gasps for air. 

“Oh, sweetheart. I love you so much. All of you. In every life, in every time. Always.” You’re lying so prettily for him. Whatever he has done to deserve you today, he hopes he’ll do it again and again so he may never part from you, not even in death. His hands don’t know where to stay, exploring, groping and squeezing and pinching wherever they please. There’s so much of you he wants to feel at once and it’s like an urge he can’t fight. The need to be with you, to please you, to immerse himself in your essence wholeheartedly is choking him up, calling forth tears in his eyes. “God, if only you could see yourself from my eyes.”

“Ken, I love when you get all emotional, I swear, but please just fuck me already.”

He gulps. “Yes, love. I will.”

“No, wait, fuck me first.”

“Wait your fricking turn, oh my god.”

Another fight breaks out. 

Nails are out, hands are flying, hair is being pulled. Kento huffs. He’s trying to get in between you two without using force, without accidentally hurting you, and just as he’s about to pull you apart, a resounding SLAP!echoes. It’s a grating noise that steals his breath. In a flash, he’s got you behind him and you pinned to the bed. 

“No.” Nanami growls. Breathing hard, he shakes off the sudden anger coursing through his veins. Wide eyed, you just watch him release his punishing hold on your neck that he didn’t even realise he had on you. The scolding fire in him doesn't disappear. “No one hurts my wife. Not even you. Understand?”

You nod frantically. 

“Good. You know I hate to punish you but you won’t disagree when I say you need to be reminded of the rules, would you?” You shake your head. “Use your big girl words.”

“I need to be punished, Ken. I need to be reminded of the rules.”

Satisfied, he leans back on his haunches and beckons the other you to his front. There’s a mark on your cheek and it makes his chest squeeze painfully. “Oh, look what you’ve done to your pretty face. My darling wife and her penchant for violence. You’re going to give me more grey hairs.”

“I hope so; you’ll be a silver fox. Yum.”   

A fruitless frustration builds inside – it’s akin to that cuteness aggression you claim overcomes you often, he thinks. Well, he won’t deny himself any longer. He tugs your neck and kisses you. It’s rough, it’s messy, it’s sloppy. And he does it all while keeping his eyes on the you that’s in near tears. “Why don’t you -hah- show my wife how to be a good girl? Show her the reward you deserve.”

“Okay, Ken.”

Leaning back into his firm, sturdy body, you hiss as the threatening stretch of his fat cockhead pushes through the tight ring of muscles at your entrance. Slowly but surely, he’s worming his way into your pulsing cunt. Nanami grunts when he finally bottoms out, balls constricting with the labour of keeping his cum in his balls and not in your pussy prematurely. This is all far too much for him. To be thrusting into you, holding you upright by your arms as you watch his cock shine with your juices, is an insane fantasy he never even dreamed of, but it is his reality and he damn sure will make the most of it. 

“Ngh, tell my wife h-how you’re feeling, sweetheart.”

Breathless, you try to talk despite the delirium-inducing pleasure he’s ramming into your tight cunt. “G-good. I feel good. Ken’s so big a-and I’m feeling so full. Fuck, Ken, fuck me harder.”

The sound of skin slapping, the squelching of your pussy, and the heady moans and grunts are all going straight to his head. Overstimulated, he clutches your breast for a tether, grounded by the weight and the softness. His pace quickens. “Like this? Hmm? You like this, darling?”

“Yes, Ken! Fuck, I’m close. More, Kento. Fuck me more.”

Over your shoulder, he watches you writhe and squirm on the bed, a hand squeezing your breast the way he is and fingers pumping inside your needy cunt at the pace his cock is working its way into your other half. Impatient, you whine. “Hurry, Ken. I want your cock too.”

He licks his lip. Sweaty, eyesight ever so slightly blurry, and growing closer and closer to his climax, urged on by the tight pulsing of your pussy, he continues thrusting inside. “Behave. Can’t you see I’m -ah, fuck- p-pleasuring my wife? Bad girls don’t get to touch, do they? They don’t get to have their cake. And. Eat. It. Ngh. Too!”

To highlight his point, he lets you slip through his grasp. You fall on top of yourself, bouncing breasts pressed tightly against each other. Your face is buried into the crook of your neck, uncaring about how loud your moans are. Nanami finds purchase against your slippery ass and holds it still as he fucks his cock into you, using you as a glorified cock sleeve. 

“Give me something. Anything, Ken. Please. Pleasepleaseplease.”

Nanami grunts. “Open up.”

A fat drop of his spit lands with a plop onto your awaiting tongue. You gulp it down eagerly. Your fingers work themselves inside your cunt even faster, unperturbed by the weight of yourself pinning you to the bed, sweaty and shaking. Dare your husband say, you rather like it. His cock pulses.

“Soon, honey. Just be patient, a-alright? And then I’ll -hah- fill you up. Just have to -ngh- make my wife cum first.” 

Expert hips grind into your tight pussy, cockhead hissing your g-spot and stretching out your gooey walls again and again. If he had it his way, he’d never leave your cunt, but he has a responsibility to make you both cum. He can’t be selfish.

“Ugh, hurry up, you whore,” you mutter into your ear. Then, he sees your mischievous hand trail down your other’s spine until it descends between your legs. When the moans get louder and the clenching of your pussy steals Nanami’s breath, he can only assume you’ve taken matters into your own hands.

You cum around his cock with a scream. 

Hips stuttering, his orgasm soon follows. “Ah, f-fuck! So tight. So fucking good.”

His choked groans are all that can be heard as you lay limp. He too falls to the bed, lying beside your bodies. That had to have been one of the strongest orgasms he had ever had. Never a dull day with you. Just when he thinks he’s got you all figured out, you prove him wrong. What a privilege it is to learn all about you every day for the rest of his life.

“Hey, my turn!”

Brushing back his blond locks, he chuckles to himself as he watches his cock throb back to life. It seems his body has adapted to be sure he can attend to his wife’s needs. Both of them. “Get up here, sweetheart. Take what you want.”

Excited, you shove your other half off and rush to straddle your husband’s hips. You don’t wait; his cock slides inside with ease from your juices. “Oh, god, yessss. Fuck, Ken, I can feel you in my lungs.”

Bracing himself by holding onto your thighs, he can do nothing else against the desperate bouncing of your ass. The pleats inside of your perfect pussy are attempting to wring him dry all over again and Nanami’s abs flex with the building pressure. His cock is still recovering and it’s sensitive but you don’t care. Now, he’s the one being used like a mere toy. 

“S-slow down, honey.” He hisses. “Hah, slow -hngh!- d-down.”

“Hmm, shit, Kento. Y-you’ve gotten so big…” Ignoring his pleas, you must be referring to the layer of fat that’s grown on his body, thanks to the delicious food you’ve been cooking for him. Wholly embracing married life by skipping visits to the gym in lieu of staying longer in bed with you, he’s realised that his clothes no longer fit as they did. It’s embarrassing for a man who prided himself in being fit and put together but it gets you so wet and so needy, he doesn’t dare change a thing. “I want to -ah ah ah fuuuuck- drown in you.”

His chuckle is punctuated by the grunts that your incessant bouncing is forcing out of him. “If it’ll make you happy, my love.”

You clench down. 

“Ah, don’t -oh fuck- squeeze so tight.” He reaches for your clit, thumbing at it. You yelp, hips bouncing faster. Looking so absolutely beautiful, he can’t keep his eyes off the recoiling breasts in his line of vision. Suddenly, his mouth is suffocated with something hot, wet, and delicious. “Hmmph!”

You’ve sat on his face, leaning forward on his stomach, clearly keen to be involved once more in the fun. Submerged in your scent and taste, he doesn’t hesitate to slurrrrrrp! up your juices. He can taste his cum too and it dribbles down his chin. Cunt wrapped around his cock and another leaking wetness right into his mouth, Nanami swears he’s in heaven, delirious with the devastating gratification of pleasuring his wife. “Ride me faster…my face…my cock…that’s it, dear…doing so -ngh- great for me…my -hah hah- perfect wife.”

Lapping up your juices, he throbs when you squeal on his tongue.

“Is that how I really sound when you eat me out? Ew.”

Other you growls. “And is that what I really look like when I ride you?”

SMACK!

SMACK!

“Don’t t-talk badly about yourself. I won’t have it.”

Rubbing your sore ass, you mumble, “Mmm, sorry, Ken.”

“Yeah, s-sorry.”

Soon, you three work back into a punishing rhythm. Nanami hates to be so strict, but he can’t bear to hear you be so mean to yourself. It makes the hairs on his arms stand. If his eyes aren’t rolling to the back of his head, he’d lecture you about the importance of loving yourself. Again. But he can’t string full sentences together. Not right now. Now when you’re all so close. 

Your clit is bumping against his nose whilst his tongue pierces your cunt and he wonders if you can both feel the specific kind of bliss the other is – a cock kissing your g-spot, filling you up, and your pussy being thoroughly ravished by his greedy mouth. 

“Yes, Ken, suck my clit…hmm, just like that… yes yes yessss.”

“Fuck, Ken, your cock feels so good. I love it! More more more. I need it.”

Whatever his wife wants, he’ll oblige. Planting his feet, he fucks up into you, jostling your body. You shriek. His pace is relentless, merciless, and they push you further and further until your climax nears. Off balance, your face falls in between other you’s breasts. Whatever you’re doing to those tits he loves so much is making his wife’s eyes roll to the back of her head too. 

Nanami’s nearing his end. He needs you to get there first. Always. “Come on, sweetheart. Make me –ah make Kento– proud, won’t you? Let me h-hear, feel a-and taste my darling wife -hah- cum.”

“Yes, Ken!” You both screech.

And soon after, your husband finds himself covered in a flood of your juices. 

“FUCK!” 

“SHIT!”

“OH GOD!”

Nails dig into his skin, scratching and stinging. The grip you have on his cock tightens until he’s robbed of his breath and forced over, hips pumping up into your scalding cunt. Your moans are muffled between your breasts when his searing cum paints your walls white. 

Clinging to each other, the three of you black out. 

Minutes or hours later, Nanami is the first to wake. Finally, the sight that greets him is not anomalous or extraordinary – it’s just his wife, singular and whole, draped naked across his lap and snoring. He’s trying to catch his breath, staring down at your sleeping form. “I’ve -hah- tired you out, huh? Poor thing.”

Just as he wanted, he’s covered in sweat and your juices, owned by you in every way possible. This is how he’d like to spend the rest of his life if he could: attending to your needs and drawing out a smile even in your sleep. He pets your head, a shaky smile on his lips. Your eyes flutter open. 

“There’s my beautiful wife. Hi. I’ve missed you, darling.”

Groggily, you ask, “Am I fixed now, Kenny?”

Bringing up your face to his, he skims his nose against the tip of yours. “You were never broken to begin with, my love.”

“That’s sweet…can we go eat now? I’m hungry.”

Petting your pussy and seeking out your heat as if his fingers are magnetised to it, he whispers against your lips, “You can take one more round, can’t you, honey? For me? For Kento?”

You both know it won’t stop at just one round. 

It never does. 

And thank fuck.

[jamal127]

when the unwavered man breaks one-shot

pairing: suguru x f!reader

synopsis: a story in which suguru decided to call you after seeing what was going on in the village he was investigating and how the worst day of his life also became one of the best. a fix-it fic. /// sfw

It’s nearly midnight and Suguru’s just now coming through the door, closing it and locking it as gently as he can, not wanting to wake you or the girls.

Yet, the light from the kitchen is still on, meaning…

“You’re late,” you murmur, peeking your head through the archway. The little smile on your face is all he needs to know that you’re not angry, maybe even looking forward to what new story he has to share today.

“M’sorry, sweetheart,” he hums as he walks over to you, pulling you into his arms and greeting you with a soft kiss. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too,” you say before giving him another. And another. And another, because you missed him more. “Please tell me you didn’t stop by the convenience store to pick up dinner.”

“No,” he chuckles, “not this time.” The last time he did, you scolded him and reminded him there was food at home, food that was actually good for him. 

“Good,” you all but chirp out before leading him into the kitchen and warming up a plate for him. 

He’s quiet during those first ten minutes, not only savoring his meal but savoring the time he gets to spend with you. Not that he doesn’t, but he enjoys moments like this, the ones where it’s just the two of you and everything’s still for once. Ever since the girls came into your lives, the only times he’ll get to experience it is in the early mornings and late nights. 

It’s grounding, reassuring— he’ll ask if he’s doing enough and you’ll say yes, you tell him all the worries you have for the future and he smoothes them over by reminding you that you are enough. The words are usually shared over a hot cup of coffee or a glass of red wine, like tonight.

“What are you being so modest for honey?” he faintly smiles and begins to tease you all while patting his lap, “come here.”

With one last sip, you get up and settle yourself on his lap, soaking in the smell of fresh linen and a faint whiff of smoke. You don’t know how he does it— a career stressful than most yet he comes home seemingly untouched, like he never left the house to begin with.

He presses a soft kiss on your shoulder before resting his chin on it, taking one last deep breath that finally settles him as well. 

“A student almost defected today,” he breathes out, you don’t respond and let him speak at his own pace. “...It took 2 hours of me and Nanami trying to talk him out of it.”

Knowing he was that close at one point too was jarring, it was like looking at his 18 year old self in the eyes. 

“He broke down in the end, started saying he couldn’t go on like this, that he couldn’t imagine a future for himself.” 

He takes another deep breath and clears his throat. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, thinking about how close to home it must’ve hit. 

“That poor kid,” you murmur. It brings you back to the time when Suguru himself struggled— the weight loss, the dark circles that couldn’t just be fixed with a full night's rest. 

It’s still fresh in your mind— the day he called you sobbing.

You couldn’t make out what he was saying, all you heard were the words prisoners and that he couldn’t take it anymore. Two hours later, you found yourself kneeling before your boyfriend who was sitting just outside the village with his head in his hands. 

“...Suguru?” you reached for his wrists, pulling them down so he’d finally look at you. He didn’t put up much of a fight, soon you were met with red, strained eyes. “What happened?”

“I’m so fuckin’ sick of them,” he whispered through a clenched jaw— then his voice cracks, “I wish they'd all just die already.”

And then it all clicked. Suguru wasn’t talking about curses, he was talking about humans. The normal civilians he spent years taking pride in protecting. It made your stomach twist, how he had gone that long without saying anything, even after all the times you asked since the star plasma vessel incident. 

Watching the way the world crushed his soul in that moment tugged at yours. There was nothing you could say at the time, you knew that he meant it, every single word. All you could do was wrap your arms around him and feel his tears slowly stain your uniform, all while holding back your own because it was your turn to be strong that day.

After some time of just holding him in silence, you found yourself standing before what was almost Suguru’s final straw— two little girls, beaten and starved, locked in a cell. 

There was no getting through to those villagers. You insisted that the problem they had wasn’t their fault, just as the exhausted sorcerer had done, but they didn’t let up. They wouldn’t even let you take them at first, not until you lied and said you’d be taking them to a place where they’d be “properly handled.” 

It wasn’t until the three of you got back to the car, far away from the ears of those that lived in the village, when you told them they were finally safe— that the place you were talking about was a place where they’d have beds and warm food.

“Where’s Suguru?” you asked Principle Yaga, who was leaning against the car while waiting for you to get back. 

He nodded his head towards the backseat of the car. It was a relief, he wouldn’t let you go back there alone at first, it took a little bit of persuasion from you and the principal to get him to go in and calm down. 

“Are these the little troublemakers?” Yaga asked, smiling for once.

The girls stood beside you as they wearily looked up at the intimidating man. One held your hand tightly, the other one had her arms completely wrapped around your leg. 

“Mhm,” you couldn’t help but smile, “this is Mimiko and this is Nanako.”

Suguru didn’t even realize you were back until Yaga opened the door. At first he just stared in disbelief, mainly over the fact that you were able to get them out of there without a scratch. He also had a gut feeling that there’d be no prying you out of those girls' hands from the way they held on to you, which also meant he was going to be taking care of them from now on— he was going to be a dad, a very young one at that.

“Scoot over, babe,” you said, still smiling from ear to ear.

Despite still being in a slight state of shock, he did what he was told. Nanako, the one who was holding your hand, warmed up to Suguru pretty quick and ended up sitting on his lap during the ride back home. Mimiko continued to cling on to you like a koala, but ended up warming up to Suguru too during the car ride after watching her sister talk his ear off. It was the first time in a while he looked truly happy.

You two were still so young, but you knew what you wanted. 

A month after taking the girls in, the four of you had moved into a little apartment that was close to the school. Two years later, you moved into the home you’re in today— a spacious one that allowed the girls to run around and take back the years they missed as children.

“I told him about everything I went through,” he says, holding you a little tighter, “how I wouldn’t have you or the girls, or the rest of the students, if I gave in that day.”

“Is that what made him finally calm down?”

He suppresses a laugh, “no, he thought I didn’t get it. It wasn’t until after telling him about the failed mission when he finally realized I wasn’t just spouting some peace and love bullshit.”

“At least you guys did it,” you say, “I’m sorry you had to tell that story again, I know how much you hate having to remember it, let alone tell it.”

“It’s alright,” he mutters, taking another sip of wine, “didn’t hurt this time.”

You look at him and run your fingers across his jaw, “no?”

“No,” he repeats himself, as if he was shocked to hear the words coming out of his mouth too. “I still hate that it happened, but it ended up saving someone.”

“You did,” you hum, “who do you think was more stressed out, you and Nanami, or Yaga when we came to get you?”

“Yaga,” he chuckles at the memory of his younger self pacing back and forth, threatening to kill the whole village after you went to see the girls, rendering the stoic principal completely speechless for once in his life. “No amount of apologizing will make that man forget that day.”

“Oh, I know,” you laugh with him, before pausing for a moment— thinking about the last few years. They haven’t been perfect, but you’ve been happy throughout all of it, you and Suguru both. “Crazy to think one of your worst days also ended up being one of your best.”

“I know,” he sighs, “m’so glad I called you that day. I couldn’t even imagine a life without the three of you.” 

Just when he’s about to press a kiss on your head, you two hear shuffling and pause. Then there’s the long, drawn out sigh that Suguru swears she got from you. 

“Aren't you supposed to be asleep right now?” Suguru asks. 

Mimiko scoffs at him, “weren’t you supposed to be home hours ago?”

“You’re right princess, my bad,” he chuckles, she got the attitude from you too. 

“I’m serious dad,” she frowns, “you said you’d read us a bedtime story tonight.”

You get up from his lap and make your way to the fridge to grab some milk to warm up for her, all while she continues to scold him. 

“I know, I know,” he pulls her in for a hug, “I’m sorry I missed it. One of my students was having a really bad day, me and Uncle Nanami had to stay with him until he got better.”

“Is he okay now?”

“Yeah,” he hums, "sometimes all you need is to talk about what’s wrong and for someone to listen and care.”

“Here you go honey,” you hand the girl her cup. 

The rest of the night's spent on the couch talking about whatever comes to mind. The upcoming talent show at the girls’ school. The cookies that Suguru plans on baking with the girls this weekend. The cake they should probably bake as well since Satoru’s coming over with Megumi and Tsumiki next week.

Mimiko quietly leans against her father throughout all of it, slowly dozing off from the comfort your voices give off. The little snore that eventually escapes her makes you both grow quiet, appreciating that little moment of stillness once again.

All rights reserved © 2025 yenayaps. Do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works in any platform.

[jamal127]

THE ETHICS OF RELATIONSHIPS - 'THE PROF GETO SERIES'

INSTRUCTOR INFORMATION Professor Suguru Geto Level: Advanced (18+) Total Points: 91,264 / 91,264 (100% Complete) Extra Credit Earned: 3,603 Recommended Study Playlist

COURSE DESCRIPTION Professor Suguru Geto is a renown ethics professor, and you're a 4.0, straight A student whose GPA he's trying to ruin (or that's what you think). Instead of dropping the class, you're more intent on making him see your brilliance -- but you get more than you bargained for, when the two of you learn more about the other -- and what you owe to each other.

COURSE REQUIREMENTS

I. I NEED SOMEONE OLDER....................................10,376 POINTS

II. ILLICIT AFFAIRS......................................................16,821 POINTS

III. THE WRONG PLACE AT THE RIGHT TIME......12,010 POINTS

IV. YOU DREW STARS AROUND MY SCARS.........14,288 POINTS

V. WAIT FOR YOUR LOVE..........................................12,464 POINTS

VI. TEACH YOU HOW FOREVER FEELS…………….25,305 POINTS

EXTRA CREDIT

I. SUDDENLY, I HAVE A VALENTINE.......................1,208 POINTS

II. SAY YOU CAN'T SLEEP (BABY I KNOW).............2,395 POINTS

[jamal127]

Nightmares

Smau: in which the jjk men are your roommates in a modern au and you had a horrible dream Warnings: fluff, angsty, comfort, cursing, not proofread Featuring: Gojo, Geto, Choso, Toji, Nanami, Sukuna

[jamal127]

Lab Rat - Part 4 ~

Carlos Oliveira x GN!Reader

It finally is ready, but I think one more part is in order to complete it. And maybe an epilogue ? We'll see :3

Let's go !!

Word Count: 4.1k

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, angsty

Trigger Warnings: Canon typical violence, trauma/ coping mechanisms

Once the door is barricaded enough to keep the infected out, Carlos and you begin to make your way towards Dr. Bard's suspected location. The outlay of the Spencer Memorial Hospital thankfully didn't change much. Just for good measure, you still dedide to take a map off the ground, one of the many that are scattered about. Most of them are damaged, either by blood or fire, but you make out one of the less destroyed ones.

Sensing that Carlos is still apprehensive about you coming with him, you decide to take a more direct and tactical approach, and show him your found.

Walking towards him, you unfold the map on your way, skimming over it.

"Seems to me like most of the hospital is still the same. Bureaucracy wing was moved, but that shouldn't be of concern for our mission." You quip, trying to lighten the mood, as well as making Carlos see your returned fighting spirit.

Apparently, it works to your favor when he gives you a tiny smile.

"Excellent. Let's get going then."

Nodding, you wave him along with you.

"The labs should be right around the corner. Always thought that was a questionable choice, but here we are; now it plays in our hands." You explain as you lead the short way to your destination.

"Why is it questionable ?" Carlos asks while lloking around, trying to ease his mind, hoping to spot potential threats early enough.

"Well, You sure noticed that my workplace wasn't exactly poited out with neon lights ? There's a reason for that. We had some quite dangerous specimen laying around. For testing purposes only, obviously. But if someone with ill intend would have wanted those, it's better to not 'advertise' for it ?"

Your elaboration gets Carlos thinking about it. It makes sense. Only a handful of people would know of these potential weapons, and they shouldn't be able to find them easily. Hence the remote location of many laboratories, and why he was stationed at yours for extra security.

"Yeah, makes sense. So why did they build this one so close to the entrance ? Theories ?"

You chuckle "Once I'm inside that lab and had a talk with Dr. Bard, I'll tell you about some of my thoughts. We're here."

Pointing forwards, Carlos follows the line of your hand, and sets his eyes on a massive, most likely steel plated door.

"So much for the security aspect." He sighs. He reallyhoped this would be the easy part of his da now.

"They upgraded that since the last time I was here. This too." You assess, nodding your head to the electronic lock on the lefthand side of the door.

Carlos grunts in thought, sauntering over to the mechanism. Shrugging, he presses the only button available. The light flashes red now.

"Do you see any place for a key card ?" He asks.

"No voice match found."

What the hell was that ?

Unsure, you look at each other.

"Voice match ?" Carlos asks, jumping the fine line of being amused and not amused. "What kind of sci-fi bullshit is this ?" He groans, rubbing his free hand down his beard.

Meanwhile, you've taken a step closer, clearly fascinated by the state-of-the-art technology.

"That's so dope ! Our lab thought about getting these too, but decided against it, and hired you guys instead. A fair deal if you ask me." You attempt to flirt at the possibly worst time ever.

Carlos lays his head to the side, looking at you with affectionate puppy eyes, before reverting back to the actual problem.

"Any idea how to overwrite it then, Neo ?"

"Did you just Matrix me ?"

"Depends, Neo. Do I have to enter the Matrix to get behind the door ?"

"Did you even watch the movie yet ?"

"Nah, but we could later on." Carlos flirts back now.

Raising an eyebrow, you reply "Sure thing, Morpheus. But I can't get passed this, either."

The lighthearted atmosphere disperses as quickly as it came.

Carlos turns back the door.

"Dr. Bard, are you in there ? I'm here to rescue you ! Open the door !"

His yelling stays unanswered as you wreck your brain for a solution for your precadament.

"No voice match found ."

"Yes, thanks for the input." He mumbles, clearly annoyed, and rightfully so.

ever since everything went to hell, you didn't have the time or peace to take care of yourselves.

He must be just as tired and hungry as you were at least. There is nothing you can to against the tiredness part, but you spot something for the hunger.

Grabbing some snacks from a broken vending machine, you march back over to him, handing Carlos what you gathered.

"Did you get that on pupose ?" He wonders, biting he inside of his lips, awaiting your answer.

Confused, you take a closer look at what your slaping into his unawaiting hand mere moments ago. the same brand of snack bar he got the first tme you met.

"No, but I will call that fate !" You exclaim, waving your pointer finger in his face, while Carlos begins to devour the treat.

As you snack on your food, you storm your brain on a way to bypass the door lock, without destrying it. even though you had no run ins yet, you aren't stupid enough to believe you both to be aloe in this hospital, dead or alive; or maybe both.

"Oh my god !" an idea hits you.

"Back in the days, doctors recorded their lab findings on casette. you know, for a secretary to write down later on. Bard's old school, i'm sure there have to be some old recordings laying about, as they are required to keep those up to ten years!"

"That would be too good to be true !" Carlos hypes your idea up. "Where would they be now ?"

Brushing off your fingers on your trousers, you pull up the map again.

"Should be in the archives. They are next to the nurses station, second floor, east wing."

He stand up, extending on hand to you. Hoisting yourself with his help, you pack a few snack bars for later into your pockets.

"Alright, let's get this and hope it works."

Determined, you follow him towards the deeper parts of the hospital.

It still feels familiar from all those years ago, but the place looks wrecked. The floor length glass windows are broken, only sharp edges remaining in the frames, blood splattered about, but, scientifically speaking, there is much more blood, than bodies lying around.

The stench is overwhelming, but the broken windows at least help with air circulation. Still, the questions remains, where all that blood came from.

Carlos seems dead set on getting in and out as fast as possible, the smartest choice really. But the hospital makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up the further you advance to your goal.

You pass by a treatment room with one of the only intact windows. The door is locked, but the sight inside makes you stop dead in your tracks.

At least half a dozen soldiers, armed to their teeth, dead on the floor, along with a beast at least twice, maybe even three times your size.

"It killed them all, before succumbing to the gunshot wounds." You speak out the obvious, but more so to break yourself out of your stupor.

"Come on, we have to get going." Carlos urges you on, placing a hand on your shoulder.

We advanced further, the nurse station coming closer.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up straight, and you fearfully whip around. Carlos is spurred on by your fright, and follows in the same moment.

"Did you hear anything ?" He asks, as he frantically scans over the area your just passed only seconds prior.

Swallowing dry spit, you answer with a shaken "I don't know. I... 'felt' something ?"

Carlos hums in acknowledgement, but encourages you to move forwards with him.

"Come now, nurse's station is just up ahead."

"Hallelujah." You murmur into the silence, still not entirely convinced that there was nothing in the shadows.

The whole trip just felt too easy, not that you would say that out loud.

But seeing as they likely transported infected people here, and you have found maybe a dozen bodies on the way here; that just does not add up. Where is everyone ?

Meanwhile, Carlos approached the door to the nurses office. He signals you with a flat hand gesture to stay put, as he slowly creaks the door open that was left ajar.

He searches the room with the light intalled on his rifle, along with his handy flashlight on his headset.

You take a look around, but sadly can't find anything to help you out in the darkness. The electricity seems to be dead here completely.

As Carlos advances, you follow with light steps now.

He halts in front of a steel door, with a sign reading "Archive".

Too easy.

"There we go." He pushes down on the door handle, only to be met with resistance.

"Oh, for fuck's sake." Carlos curses now, clearly also meeting the end of his patience.

Jill only has so much time.

Sighing, you rub your eyes hard with the balls of your hands.

"Alright, let's try to think like a hospital." You offer.

Carlos looks at you expectantly. Trying and wrecking your brain, you think about possible whereabouts for a key to this door.

"There are about three people in my mind to have access to a key for the archives."

You start pacing the dumly lit sliver of the room.

Counting with your fingers "One, the hospital management."

Turning around to the other direction "Two, head of security, because they always have keys to everything."

You stop in the middle of the room, before concluding "And lastly, the on shift head nurse. Always gotta have someone at the ready to hand something out."

"Alright. Let me think like me then." Carlos takes up your stride. "First, management will most like have been evacuated asap. Second, head of security is fifty-fifty. Either dead because he fought on the front line when things got messy, or also evacuated."

"Which leaves us with the head nurse." You sum up.

"Most likely to have been here, and not having had the chance to evacuate. As brutal as that sounds, horror movies are right with that cliché." Carlos agrees glumly.

"We live in a horror movie right now. So maybe you are right."

Silence falls over you as no one wants to adress the elephant in the room. What are the odds of finding the head nurse in this entire hospital before time runs out. If Bard even cooperates that is.

Chances are slim as is, this does not help. Damn that modern technology sci-fi voice lock.

You groan as you remeber something you absolutely don't like.

"What is it, mi tesoro ?" Carlos eggs you on.

"Do you remember that treatment room we passed that was completely trashed ?"

He nods, but lays his head in a slight angle, signaling his confusion at what you are trying to play at.

"I... I think I saw a head nurse uniform in there between all the soldiers."

"How certain are you ?"

"I don't know. Maybe seventy percent-ish ?" You admit squeamishly.

Carlos lets out a huffed chuckle. "Better than fifty-fifty in my book. Let's check it out." He nods and leads the way back out the door.

It doesn't take long to find your way back to the 'crime scene' as you would call it under non-apocalyptic circumstances. The sight is no less gruesome than the first time, but now, you have a goal in mind.

You try to block out the horrifying sight of everything and concentrate on finding your target.

Carlos does the same, after you described what made the uniform of a head nurse different from the others.

Searching for a solid two minutes, you finally see what caught your eye the first time around.

"Over there !" You exclaim, pointing towards the mangled arm, complete with the arm band.

Carlos steps closer to you, locating the arm shortly after you.

Upon seeing the spot, you both share a look of desperation; the arm is stuck inside the dead beasts jaws.

The window is smeared with blood, but you swear you see something dangling from the marred hand. Or your mind is already playing tricks on you.

"Am I going crazy, or is she holding a key ring in her hand ?" You wonder, pressing your hand to the glass, getting so close your nose touches it to get a better look.

Squinting, Carlos leans in, then back and raises his rifle.

The laser visor pierces through the glass as he aims it at the arm, and it reflects the light.

Carlos laughs, dropping his weapon again and reaching up to stroke your cheek affecionately.

"Sharp eyes, mi amor."

You beam at him, finally feeling like you are gettin he upper hand of the situation.

Carlos tries to open the door, but to no avail; the soldiers blocked it from the inside with a patient bed.

"No worries, these treatment romms have to be connected in the back. For supplies and break rooms." You exlain and walk to the next door over.

To your relief, it actaully pushes open, and you step back to let Carlos get in first.

After he delared it safe, you enter after him.

Once again, you feel uneasy. It's simply too quiet. And there is this dead mutation next door. And while it is dead, you still feel terrible about the possibility of something like that even existing. There are a few people dead on the floor every once in a while, but other than that, you two are the only ones roaming the halls.

"Alright, this is it. I'll go first. Snatch the key and come back out. Why don't you take a look around here ? Maybe something to help patch Jill up later ?" Carlos suggests, and you are inclined to follow his order.

Nodding, you turn back to the lockers around you and open them one by one. Carlos will certainly have a look on the deceased soldiers, maybe check them for spare ammunition, if he's lucky.

You on the other hand find some disinfectant, bandages, plasters, pain killers, suture kits - everything your heart desires. Maybe that mandatory first aid course will come in handy today.

It is a lot of loot you got, and you dn't know how to transport it all.

There are some personal lockers in the back, and you decide to break them open with your knife.

Grunting, you actually manage to get one open, and your lucky stars are on your side. Inside is a leather bag, with a sturdy shoulder belt.

Inside there are a few paper, some make up; things you essentially don't need any longer.

Dumping it all out, you pack your survival kit. As you go to pack the suture kit in the little inside pocket, you find a lighter inside.

"Damn smokers." You mumble, considering throwing it out. But then you remember that fire is also a steriliation method, and decide to keep it in your back pocket.

You swing the back around your shoulder and hoist yourself on top of a bed in the corner.

"Carlos sure is taking his time..." You think out loud. "I wish I would have found a radio..."

You could have taken Jill's, but your both agreed to leave it with her, in case she wakes up and wants to contact Carlos.

You can't take it any longer, and push up from the matress and stalk over to the door. Gradually, you push the door open, finding Carlos standing over some documents.

He looks up upon haring the metal door moving.

"What'ya got there ?" You question him, making your way to him, trying to avoid the bodies on the floor.

"Take a look for yourself." He replies, taking a step to the side to make room for you.

Skimming over the notes, you recognize this as a time table of the first infected people here. "My god, they didn't stand a chance. They must have been so scared. i know I was. I can't imagine what it was like for the first responders."

"Yeah, when your train crashed, I was actually at the police department. It was even worse than here. Poor fella had his first day today, I reckon it was most likely his last too, sadly."

"Eh, you never know. I mean, I was absolutely certain would go down in the first five minutes of a crisis. But thanks to you, I didn't."

You gift him a rare smile, which he returns, but you can sense that Carlos might want to argue with your statement.

Shaking your head, you quickly change the topic "Did you find the keys ?"

"I was going there, but this caught my eyes first. Also, I checked for supplies too."

"Figured." You admit, and take a look around the room, spotting the creature in the far back.

Carlos, ever cautious, grips his gun tighter, before advancing towards the mangled arm dangling from the monster's mouth; or what is left of it.

You have seen enough horror movies to know that you can't trust the peace here.

Carlos reaches for the keys, snatches them at the speed of lightning and waits a breath for any reaction from the dead beast.

When nothing happens, he exhales slowly, standing up straight.

He shows the keys to you, and you open your satchel bag to store them safely.

Now back to the nursing station, open archives, pull a sound file from Bard and finally open the damn lab.

"Alright, let's get going." Carlos nudges you towards the entrance.

"Agreed."

But as you reach the metal door to the back of the treatment rooms, you hear a growl behind you.

Stunned, both of you turn your heads, only to be faced with the monstrum believed dead standing tall behind you, ready to strike.

With his fast trained reflexes, Carlos pushes you roughly against the door, which falls open, before dodging the oncoming claw attack himself.

"What the fuck !" You yell, as you scramble to open the door as Carlos opens fire on the creature.

It's skin is thick, and Carlos soon notices that his bullets hardly do any damage.

"Why can't the dead stay dead ?" He questions while trying to distract it.

Managing topush the door open, you stand in the doorway, waiting for Carlos to follow. The problem is, the monster keeps him caged to one side of the room.

You have to help, and fast !

Before you can rethink what you are about to do, you reach for one bottle of disinfectant, screw the cap open, put some gauze in it, and light it all on fire and throw it at the reeling creature.

"Run !" You yell over the screeching monster as it is stunned by the sudden fire attack.

Carlos wastes absolutely no moment and legs it to your voice.

As soon as he passes you, you shove the door shut, and Carlos leans against it.

Frantically, you look around for something to barricade the door, and remember the bed you were perched on mere minutes ago.

"Wait, I got something !" You instruct as you take off the retrieve hospital bed in the back.

Grunting, you push it with all your strength, probably fueled by the adrenaline that courses through your veins right now, and lodge it against the steel door as Carlos jumps aside.

"I'm not sure it holds."

"Doesn't matter" Carlos explains, grabbing your hand and dragging you along with him. "If it buys us time, I'm more than satisfied."

Breaking through the door again, you try and catch your breath, knowing you will have to pass the glass window with the now agitated monster in it.

"Should we like... crawl underneath the window so it doesn't see us ?" You suggest, adjusting the strap of your shoulder bag once more, even if just to calm your nerves.

"Yeah, good thinking. Also where did you get that Molotov from ?" He compliments while getting down to his knees and start crawling.

You follow suit "I don't know. I just took what I had and acted."

"Good thing you did. I would be dead otherwise."

You don't want to think about that right now.

Noticing your silene, he stands up straight again when he passed the window, extending his hand down to you to help you up.

"I told you, you would survive no matter what." Carlos concludes.

Smiling at him, you try and ban the last moments from your memory, but you are hyperaware of your surroundings.

"Let's just get back to the archives. I worry about Jill." You say, even though you know it's just an avoidance tactic.

Carlos nods curtly and follows you back to the nurses office silently. He wants to talk about what just ahppened, but he knows you need a little time to process that.

Thankfully, there are no interuptions on the way back, and you can unlock the door to the archives without further issues.

"Which ones are Bards ?" Carlos questions, having a look around.

"Don't know for sure, maybe check the 'B' labels ?" You suggest, staying outside for the lack of flashlight still on your person. Man, you really should scavenge for something like that. Maybe a better weapon too. You can't always rely on other to save your bacon.

"Hah ! Found one ! Let's go." Carlos announces, showing you the tape and castette player that was right next to the archives.

"Great, Let's hit the halls." You nod and turn to the direction JIll should be in, as well as the lab.

It takes a few tries to get the casette player to work, but once you get it going, you hold it in front of the voice activated lock.

With a green light, it grants you access at last.

As always, Carlos goes in first to secure the area, but you do get a good look inside from the entrance, and see something you absolutely don't want to be true.

"No..." You whisper, atching Carlos attention just as he is about to turn the chair to check if you are right.

And you were.

Bard is dead.

The only man who would have been able to help Jill and even the whole of Raccoon with a possible cure.

Whatever hope you had left is now vanished into thin air.

Sure, with your microbiology knowledge, you could cook up a cure, but the recipe has to be there, and that certainly is above your pay grade.

Carlos finds a computer still turned on, a chat log open on the desktop.

He plays the last video call with Bard and someone unknown, but most likely U.B.C.S.

You stand next to him as the call ends abruptly, and Carlos loses his cool.

"Jill knew it all along, and she trusted me anyways. Fuck !" He hisses and punches the display so hard it breaks to pieces.

You simple pat his arm in consolation, letting your hand wander up to his shoulder and through his hair. Sighing, you take a look around and spot something that makes your heartbeat pick up again.

Behind the glass slide door, you spot a secure vault, containing vials. You want to bet everything you own on an antidote.

Stepping through the door, you see the vaukt was broken into, but you couldn't care less. As the label reads "trail antidote G-virus", and that's better than nothing.

"Carlos ! I found something."

As soon as he reads the label, you hed back to Jill in hurried steps.

She is still asleep, and you waste to time to inject her with the antidote.

As soon as the syringe is empty, Carlos gazes upon Jill and then you, as if asking what happens now.

"Now we wait. We did what we could." You say, settling into a chair next to Jill to monitor her to the best of you abilities.

"Alright. I'll call it in."

You hum, and turn back to Jill. And while Carlos does as he says, he wonders just how much the horrors of this night have already scarred you, and if you both will be able to recover.

~~~

Please leave a like or reblog, Thank you A. \(^o^)/

[jamal127]

❀ In which husband!Nanami makes a big decision after your labour Tw: hard labour, difficult pregnancy, allusions to death, angst, not proofread

“Are you sure about this?” The doctor asks again.

Kento leans back in his chair, staring straight ahead at the older man before him. He notes, with a little humour, how concerned his doctor looks at the prospect of a younger, more virile man like him undergoing such an operation. There seems to be some stigma surrounding the quick and low-risk operation, almost as if the idea of any man willingly sacrificing an essential part of their identity, their manhood, is so abhorrent one must check again and again if they are certain this is what they want. 

And he is. 

If asked, and he’s sure when he discloses his decision to friends and family, they will ask, he’ll tell them it is the easiest choice he has ever made — second only, of course, to his decision to marry you. 

No matter how many times the doctor reminds him that contraceptives are satisfactory, that abortion is available up to twenty-two weeks gestation, and he might come to regret this later when the pain settles in, Nanami Kento will not change his mind. Not even when you, his beautiful wife, argued, pleaded, with him. 

You resented the thought of not being able to give him the big family he’s always dreamed of, but how could he possibly tell you, through your tears and the quiet suckling of the nursing baby in your arms, that you’ve already given him everything he could ever want?

That it isn’t a big family he wants but rather, simply, a family with you. 

Years of giving you everything you’ve ever wanted makes this one act extremely uncomfortable; defying you goes against his nature, after all. But he sees no other way to go about this. Perhaps it's just better to ask for forgiveness than approval on select occasions.

The pregnancy had been hard. The labour even harder. Lasting longer than twenty hours, the nurses and doctors rushed around, beelining in and out of your room with all sorts of expressions on their faces, ranging from professional sternness to mild worry to pure panic, all reflecting the emotions he wore on his own face as he waited outside. 

At first, things went smoothly — the overnight bag was ready by the door, your contractions were consistent and you were both able to get ahead of your water breakage. He was by your side throughout it all, holding your hand, brushing your hair back, going through breathing exercises, and giving you encouragements. 

You were anxious but excited, rattling off baby names as back-up plans in case the baby was 'giving off a different vibe,' worrying about the crib you both picked out, the colour of her room, and trying to remember every single advice you heard from your experienced friends. “What was it babies can’t have until much later? Ugh, I can’t remember now. It was something I really like and was super bummed I can’t let her taste until like centuries later. “

“Honey?”

“Yes, dear?” You grinned at him.

His lips twitched.

“That’s all I get? I thought that was hilarious.”

He wiped the sweat off your forehead. “It was very funny, my love. I hope our baby gets your sense of humour. She’ll make for a successful clown.”

The eye roll you gave him, for one happy moment, convinced him that this labour was going to be just as they said.

There was nothing to be concerned about. Your tests were clean, there’s no history of complications, you followed the recommended diet and have been diligent with the vitamins. It was just going to be your standard birth and they have years of experience.

You’re in safe hands.

So why were you straining for so long?

Why were you screaming through gritted teeth, threatening to break every bone in his hand?

Why was he growing dizzy at the sight of your shaking body?

“Just breathe, sweetheart, alright? Breathe for me.”

You tried. You tried so hard. “Yes, y-yes, I am. Oh, fuck, Kento, it hurts. It really hurts.”

“I know, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.” Mouth dry, face flushed, and voice broken, he could only mutter empty promises. A true failure of a husband, unable to do a single thing to alleviate your pain. “Hang in there, please. They’ll sort it out. It’s all going to be fine.”

The nurses began whispering among themselves, too hushed and hurried for him to understand. "Is everything alright? What's happening?"

More people came in, crowding the bed and pushing him away. He tried to tell them you needed him by your side, that you needed something to hold, someone to keep your hair out of your face. He was being escorted out, wordlessly.

"Ken? Wait, don't leave. I'm scared." Your hand was outstretched and he fought, against better judgement, to hold it just for a second to soothe your worries. They didn't let him.

"It's okay, sweetheart. T-they're going to take care of you."

Hours flew by. He paced the floor, and answered all the messages and calls he received from worried loved ones with responses he didn’t really believe in but knew he had to: ‘she’ll be fine,’ ‘she’s in good hands,’ and ‘it’s probably nothing.’

Sitting on a cold, hard bench, in a large waiting room with people he could only hope weren't in the same position as him, Kento couldn't sleep. Instead, he listened to the incessant ticking of the clock, the dull thrumming of the TV in the corner, and the monotone voices of nurses talking among themselves.

He wasn’t in the room when your baby was finally out, missing out on her first cry, on watching that instant connection you talk about form, on being able to thank you.

They only beckoned him in with relieved smiles some time later. Finally, he could see you, could hold you, tell you how amazing you are. And he did. He held the baby too, small, beautiful, unable to even open her eyes, but had a great set of lungs on her, just like her mother. 

“Oh, sweetheart. She looks just like you,” he breathed out. 

You didn’t reply, couldn’t look at him, couldn’t smile. You simply held his hand and gave him a reassuring squeeze. The feeling of your cold, clammy hand weak and quivering like you were holding onto a thin rope just so you could say goodbye will forever haunt him.

"Sweetheart? What's wrong, love?" He turned to the nurses, tried to meet their eyes. "What's happening to my wife?"

The events after that were hectic and Kento, try as he might, couldn’t piece together what happened. Rapid beating and beeping, sudden shouts, baby taken away, and he was pushed out of the room. The last glimpse he had of his wife, the last glimpse he thought he would have forever, was of her spasming on the bed, surrounded by strangers in masks and stained robes. 

Alone.

Terrified.

Failed by her husband. 

Never again, Kento swore. Never again will he put you through that, the pain, the suffering, the fear. He’ll never drive you to the edge of life and allow you to teeter on your own. If it’ll be anyone, it’ll be him. It has to be.

You survived this time and he’ll do everything in his power to make sure there isn’t a next time — he’s not sure he could step up and be the father your baby needs without you.

His hand still shakes.

In his sleep, at his absolute worst, he hears your screams, holds your limp body, and grieves your presence. He's ashamed to admit he couldn't pick his baby up for days after, that he had let dark circles grow, allowed darker thoughts to permeate his mind, consuming him.

How could he possibly look in his little girl's eyes and know she almost lost her mother? That in a split second, everything you two built together could have burned down in front of him? That when it mattered most, he was powerless as a man, as a husband, and as a father?

"You've been washing the same plate for five minutes, Ken. I think you need more sleep," you said, hugging him from behind.

He had wandered into his mind again, running on autopilot as he washed the dishes. Clearing his throat, he forced a smoothness into his voice. "Yes, you're probably right."

"Are you still thinking about going to the doctors?"

"Yes."

You sighed. "I'll be okay, Kento. You don't need to do that. We're going to be fine. Let's just live as we always did and let the universe take us where we need to."

Wet hands clutched your dry ones. There was a firmness to them, unyielding and tight. When he spoke, his tone commanded attention, rendering you as silent as the baby sleeping in her crib. He didn't turn around, likely couldn't, for he knew if he did, his resolve might just crumble.

"I won't leave your life in the hands of anyone else. I refuse. Your life holds more value to me than my own and I will not spend it so carelessly, leaving it in the hands of the universe or God or whomever else. I can't see you go through...that again. I can't. I w-wouldn't survive it. And I know you want more children because you think that's what I want, but sweetheart, I need you. I need you. You may never understand what I mean and that's alright. The life we have is good. It's perfect. I can't risk it. I won't. So, I'm sorry but I don't think there's anything you can say to change my mind."

Pressing a kiss in between his shoulder blades, you said, "I know."

Unending, your patience is commendable — you don't grouch when he wakes you up in the middle of the night just to make sure you’re still breathing or get irritated when he insists on carrying the heavy lifting around the house.

He took off more time out of work, desiring nothing more than staying at home so he can keep you fed, can take care of the baby whilst you catch up on sleep, and help you shower on unsteady legs.

Every moment, every kiss on his knuckles, every brush of your hand on his cheek, every admission of love bears a thousand times more weight now. The persistent crying in the middle of the night, the mess, the diaper-changes, the vomit on his clothes don't frustrate him; they're a mark of what you and him had fought so hard for.

This is the family he’s always wanted. The family he must protect. 

And damn it all if he lets it, you, slip away. 

So, he says, calmly and with the most certainty anyone can muster, “Yes, I’m sure.”

Jello! Had some time to make this since my exam was pushed later. Sorry for yet another angsty piece, I just couldn't get the idea out of my head. It's very rushed, as I'm sure you can tell. I think I'm a little out of practice cause it's been almost a week since I last wrote something

Well anyways, this is just a snack to keep you guys fed whilst you wait for me on the other side

Blessing and good tidings y'all

[jamal127]

satoru gojo left behind a wife and infant baby girl.

the day it happened, he promised he’d come back to you. you held onto him tightly, pleading with him not to go, not to leave you. but he had to, you both knew that. however your trust that he would return is what kept you going.

you almost didn’t even want to watch the livestream. you wish you hadn’t.

seeing your husband die right in front of your eyes, seeing him take his last breath, it broke you. nothing could prepare someone to lose the one they love. nothing could prepare you for the amount of grief you were suddenly pushed into, the darkness that overtook your once bright world.

you began to wish your daughter looked more like you instead of him. because that way, you wouldn’t have to wake up to his carbon copy crying for her mother while you yourself were on the verge of tears because they just looked so much alike.

how were you supposed to be strong and push through day by day when it felt like it was all for naught? how could you continue life without your other half?

the only thing you found yourself looking forward to everyday you woke up was your sweet baby girl’s laughs. the innocence it held, the way her eyes crinkled, the way it brought you a sense of warmth.

you’d always hear her laugh right next to your ear after visiting your husband for your weekly visit, leaving white roses by his gravestone. sometimes you wondered why she would laugh. maybe it’s just her being an adorable baby, maybe it’s at the airplane that flew above you two.

or maybe it’s the ghost of her father who stood beside his own grave, making silly faces at his daughter that he knew she loved, waving bye and with a promise he’ll see her again next week. her hand reaches out for him, and his towards his two favorite girls.