#RIP x reader

[respawnjupiter]

tׁׅhׁׅ֮ꫀׁׅܻ ꯱ׁׅ֒ᨵׁׅꪀׁׅᧁׁ ᨵׁׅ⨍ tׁׅhׁׅ֮ꫀׁׅܻ ꯱ׁׅ֒ꫀׁׅܻɑׁׅ֮

᥅ꪗꪖꪀ ᥊ ᥅ꫀꪖᦔꫀ᥅

𝚁𝚘𝚝 𝙸𝚗 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚎

𝐍𝐨𝐧𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐲! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: "𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘎𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘱𝘢, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘳, 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮; 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥."

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹ ♡ ──────── ‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹ ♡

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐄: "ωнαт α уσυηg gιяℓ ѕнσυℓ∂ ησт кησω"

You were worried sick. Stomach twisting, and sick with distress and despondency as you sat in your Grandpa's old worn-out recliner wearing your pajamas, a mug of now-cold hot cocoa in your hands as you waited for your grandfather to come back inside the lighthouse. He had told you to keep an eye on the light for any ships lost out at sea as he went out to check something. You had noticed for the past few days that your Grandpa seemed sick, unnaturally dehydrated, and constantly muttering something under his breath about "she's coming" but whenever you'd ask about it, he'd always shut you down and tell you that it was nothing.

The storm raging on outside was getting worse and even though you were told to keep inside, you couldn't help but be worried for your Grandfather. Still, you had a job to do. Keeping the light on and helping ships get around was important and your grandpa would've wanted you to help others before going to check on him.

Making your way up the narrow steps of the old, rickety, wooden stairs; you set the mug of cocoa down on the desk next and get to work on looking for people with the big bright light that shined on top of the lighthouse for the ships out at night. . . And your grandpa, of course. No way were you going to just forget your Gramps.

────────────────────────────────────────────

As you walked along the shoreline of the beach next to your lighthouse home, it was early morning and the sun hadn't yet risen so you held a flashlight while you looked for any signs of life, still in your pajamas with no shoes on.

You caught sight of a man with dark hair and wearing a white tank top lying on the rocks of the shore, he looked unconscious, and without thinking you yelled out to the stranger. "HEY! You alright, man?!" You shout as you run over to him and check his pulse, silently praying that the man was still alive.

He lets out a quiet groan of pain, still out of it but that's enough to tell you he is alive and that's good enough, so you grab him and drag him over to the lighthouse while the storm worsens and the wind picks up, rain pouring down harder and you knew in that moment that you weren't going to find your grandpa tonight.

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╰┈➤ Taglist:

╰⪼ @zhvakinnn

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Thank you for reading and please keep in mind that this is the PROLOUGE so it's only just setting up the scene and plot. I will make a masterlist post and post all updates there with links. If you wish to be tagged just comment or dm me.

[soapcloth]

CW: 18+ MDNI, neighbour!price x reader - dividers -> @/cafekitsune

You find out John Price doesn’t play around when it comes to catching up on sleep while he’s on leave.

Struggling to bring in a heavy package one morning, you’re startled by your neighbour emerging from his unit huffing and puffing tiredly about noise in nothing but a simple pair of low hanging pyjama bottoms.

You’re concerned you’re going to get an earful when he wordlessly hoists the box up, uncaring about the way it tugs at his waistband to expose a dusting of hair and noticeable veins. Leaving your delivery just inside your door, he turns to look at you through squinted eyes, and your cheeks heat up when you realize you’ve been caught watching it bob under the loose fabric.

In your defence, he cuts quite the hypnotic figure from the side.

“Thank you, John-“ you try- only to be interrupted by a thick arm hooking around your neck; the other reaching behind him to close your door with just a tad too much force. His free hand lowers to scratch at his belly, prompting a loud yawn as a thick palm dips lower, giving himself a little squeeze. With a content hum rolling around in his chest, he pulls you into his apartment.

“Too early.” He grumbles as he flops onto his well-worn couch, half asleep and tugging you with him. Like a strangler fig, he rolls onto his side and cages you against the cushions, his legs tangling around yours and his cock unmistakably fattening against your belly.

[dante-mightdie]

soap dropping you off at your place after your first date, pointing out the weird guy very poorly hiding in the alleyway next to your building

it freaks you out to the point where you ask johnny to stay the night, your nerves running you ragged because what if this guy tries to break in after johnny leaves? it’s only natural that he calms you down with soft kisses and gentle sex

simon only leaves his place in the alley after he gets a text from johnny, a photo of your head on his chest, fast asleep and his fingers running through your hair

a few seconds later another picture comes through, a pair of frilly panties with a damp crotch

‘a bonus for your hard work :)’

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

katsuki is pissed the fuck off.

it doesn't take a rocket scientist to tell. whenever he's angry he makes it extremely obvious and most of the time it becomes everyone's problem. but it's weird to you because he was fine like, 5 seconds ago.

until 5 seconds ago he'd gotten back from buying groceries for the class and kissed you on the forehead as a greeting. he'd even brought the oranges you'd begged him to get last minute because you'd randomly been craving them, even after saying he wouldn't (but you both knew he would.)

but now he's pissed, and you have no idea why.

he's not saying anything either, but he keeps huffing and clicking his tongue every once in a while, fist pressed hard against his cheek and his jaw locked tightly chewing on the little piece of the own orange he'd been eating and finished a bit ago.

you keep munching on your piece of orange as you stare at him, and then you poke at his cheek. he grunts, shooing your hand away and leaning away from you.

"what's got you so grouchy ?" you tilt your head with a raised brow, he scoffs. readjusting his leg on the couch. you fight the urge to roll your eyes. he's ignoring you now ?

"katsuki."

silence.

"katsukiii-"

"it's nothin'." he growls, huffing through his nose.

this time you do roll your eyes "sure, that's why you're being all cranky." slowly, you inch towards his spot on the couch where he'd secluded himself away. he hasn't left the room and he doesn't react to you getting closer besides a slight side eye, so you know he's probably just being dramatic.

his nose scrunches up at your wording and he pretends he doesn't notice you lifting his arm up to lay in them. he doesn't comment on how he almost immediately changes his position to make you more comfortable.

"m'not cranky." he spits, eyebrows contorting and a pout settles onto his face "not a baby."

could've fooled me you think, but you decide against actually saying it. you're smile widens when his eyes narrow once he meets yours, he pinches your side "quit starin' at me."

"katsukiii. what's got your panties in a bunch ?" you coo and katsuki gives you the most repulsed look you've ever seen him make.

"don't ever say that ever again, i'm so fucking serious." he groans at your giggling, leaning his head away and shoving his palm in your face to get away from you like he couldn't just leave the room instead of actively pulling you closer to him. really, could've fooled you.

"ya didn't let me peel yer orange for you.." he mumbles grumpily.

you blink up at him "..what ?"

eyebrows furrowing just at the memory, he continues "was gone for three seconds to put away the damn groceries an' here you go, prancing around me, throwin' your peel away in the trash right in front of me."

oh, wow.

"katsuki. really ?"

"you know i always do it for you. yn." he sasses.

"that's why you were so mad at me ?" your giggles muffled by him pressing your head into his shoulder in a headlock.

"you were busy !" you fight weakly.

"so ? if you've got shit to do you come to me, i woulda done it in two seconds. peeling oranges doesn't take that long, dummy."

you keep giggling as you try to fight him off before you hear him snort and he releases you.

as stupid as it may sound, katsuki isn't the best when it comes to letting his affection be known through words, so you know how much acts of services, as small as they are, mean to him.

you sometimes forget how much he loves to do little things for you. throwing away your little candy wrappers, or already unwrapping your ice cream for you. or absentmindedly fixing up and sorting out your desk, or bookshelf when he sees your manga out of order or sticking out too much. the little ways he cares for you make your heart flutter. you smile up at him and offer him a piece of orange. he scowls at it.

"don't want your stupid orange." he mutters childishly, but you don't have enough time to pull away to eat it yourself before he grips your wrist. bringing it up to his mouth to eat it anyway. you roll your eyes with a fond smile.

"i'll be sure to leave the orange peeling to you from now on." you jest. he grunts in approval, softly chewing on the slice of juicy orange before patting your wrists, signalling he wants more. and you snort, but you still hand him another piece. his warm grip on your wrist remains even though he could very well just take it out of your hands. he hums again when the taste kicks in.

"you better, i mean it. otherwise it's your funeral."

thank my lovely lovely moot @kovu-bunnbunn for this lovely idea ! tysm twin ! :3

[jerru-chan]

Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley bringing you to the Military Ball as his plus one. Once at the venue, Simon offered his arm for you to hold to. The gesture made you giggle but you took it nonetheless. He guided you towards a table where three men wearing the same formal wear as your boyfriend sat. Everyone greeted each other including you, and you greeted back just as warmly.

After a few small talks, you told Simon that you're just going to the buffet table to get something to eat and drink. When you reached the buffet table picking up some desserts, a private walked towards you and started a conversation. After the private introduces himself, which you never paid attention to, you made him help you hold plates of food to bring back to the table.

When you were satisfied with your haul, you told the private to follow you to the table with the plates. The smug private, thinking he won a jackpot, slowly got pale the closer the two of you get to the table, where his superiors are sitting, chatting away, oblivious.

When you reached the table you placed the plates down and grabbed the ones on the private's hands and thank him for helping you. The four men looking at you then the private who visibly gulped and scared shitless at trying to flirt with one of his superior's woman, got even paler after finding out that you're Ghost's woman. The private gave them a salute and hurriedly fled the scene, making the men look at each other, bewildered.

"What was that about?" They asked. You just shrugged and said "He tried to flirt with me, so I just... rejected him without saying I rejected him...?" You explained with a sly grin.

The men shook their head as they chuckled, and you thought that's the end of it. But little did you know is that they all took a mental note of what the recruit looked like, as they were not letting flirting with their Lt's woman, or any other's woman slide.

[saeun]

ever since nanami met you, his personal space was always invaded. if he was soaking away in the bathtub, you'd be right there. if he fell asleep before you did, you'd snug yourself into his embrace when you're going to sleep.

he didn't mind it— after all, nanami was an enthusiast for physical touch and warmth from body heat instead of a blanket.

perhaps it's too much warmth now. the nights that he spent meticulously balancing cold and hot temperatures are now filled with hot and hot. on one side, there's you with a leg thrown over him. on the other side, there's a baby sleeping soundly on his torso.

it's now common for him to sweat a little, but who cares? there's now a baby in the picture, the euphoria he experiences is at its highest; his domestic family feelings have finally been met with reality. a little sweat is nothing.

again, the overpowering warmth keeps him awake— even when he's shirtless. nanami tries his best to not pay any mind to the drool that's settling on his chest from the baby's mouth. as long as it's peacefully quiet without cries that are louder than an alarm.

with his free hand, he cups your face, caressing the cheek with his fingers. he wants to lay a kiss on your forehead, but he can't risk unintentionally waking the infant. it saddens him, but the small, subconscious smile on your face from his touch is more than enough.

[generalsdiary]

Sunday mannerisms I noticed during the 2.7 livestream

when he finds something funny or amusing but doesn't laugh out loud - his right wing twitches

when he is happy or joyous - his left wing twitches

when he is flustered, shy or laughing out loud - both wings twitch

[krokusplays]

Imagine baking with Mydei.

Imagine him standing behind you, your back to his chest while he instructs and guides you through the process.

Imagine him stopping you when you're kneading the dough, even though he's fully aware you're doing a perfect job. He doesn't admit to you that he's just using an opportunity to get more involved, though that almost teasing smile on his face tells you enough already.

Imagine Mydei placing his hands above yours, guiding your hands and kneading the dough with slow movements and a gentleness that most people wouldn't deem him capable of.

It's so strangely intimate, especially with how close you already are. Your hands engulfed by his, fingers intertwined, his breath fanning over your hair, the warmth of his body at your back...

[shotmrmiller]

in which johnny gifts the love of his life a sex toy outta nowhere

when you mumble into the phone that you miss him, johnny, he pauses for a second, then tells you he's going to bring you a gift back home. "to keep ye company, hen." after, he locks himself in a bathroom stall and watches you play with yourself until you both come.

but you'd thought he'd bring you a pet. a live animal that needs a cage to be brought across the world, not a long, slim unmarked box.

it's a sex toy. and it's rather large, at that. your hand wraps around the base, fingertips still a good inch apart.

"and i'm supposed to be using that?" his arms wrap around your waist, his thick stubble grazing the sensitive skin of your neck, raising goose flesh.

"don't like it? only had ye in mind, hen." he presses a wet kiss on your fluttering pulse. you've never really talked about toys in your relationship. you don't need them, of course, and johnny more than makes up for the time lost between you two whenever he's home but this?

"i don't know," you mumble. "a bullet would've made more sense, i think. at most a rose." his hands run up your sides, to the swell of your breasts and give you a gentle squeeze. he doesn't believe the tripe of people valuing size over all else, does he? the thing is easily as thick as your forearm and it's corded with veins. and it's uncut. whoever is making these are going to extreme lengths to make it as realistic as possible.

he bucks his hips, prominent bulge in his jeans coming to rest in the small of your back. of course he'd get excited. menace.

"ye willnae have t'use it alone now tha' i'm here. 'sides, i think ye'd look perfect with my pretty kitty stretched thin around it." johnny grabs your hips firmly, creating small divots as his grip tightens. "maybe i'll watch ye fuck yerself on it, hm? lap at yer clit while ye do." liquid heat pools in your belly, pulsing hot between your legs.

he really wants you to use it, given by his ragged breathing and he rutting himself against you. fine. "okay. just, not right now, yeah? i want only you in me." his eyes burn fluorescent as he nods, his large hand cradling your head as he pulls you in for a kiss.

you missed this. the sweet sting of his cock sliding home in your aching cunt, the sharp pinch below your navel when his tip comes to sit snugly against the plug of your womb. you've missed this. missed him.

maybe he'll forget all about that monstrosity sitting in the box.

-

he doesn't. he's bringing it up hours later, his spend still dripping warm on your thighs. johnny cannot be serious.

"course i am, hen." his fingers sweep at the hair stuck to your sweat-slick forehead. "is it a crime to want to see ye split open on some- something else?"

you think nothing of his stutter. "alright," you groan. if that's what he wants. it'll be interesting to see just how much you can take. you'll never tell him that your pussy clenched around nothing at the thought, his cum trickling out faster, pooling on the sheets.

-

it's not warm. the tip of it presses against your swollen entrance, cold in contrast to your heated flesh. johnny watches you swallow a gasp, your trembling hands reaching for his as you slide down an inch, two, three. johnny's cum is wonderful lube, but the searing burn- the size of toy is overwhelming, your walls being wrenched apart as you glide down further. johnny presses a prickly kiss on your cheek, cooing in your ear all the while his clever fingers draw gentle circles on your clit. "focus on breathin', bonnie. yer tensin' up."

desire begins to bubble beneath your skin, pleasure causing your muscles to warm and slacken, and after a long couple of minutes, you find yourself at the base.

but then johnny grabs your hips from behind and pulls- oh. "that's it." if you'd thought the toy had originally been in your stomach, it's now in your throat. "pretty as a peach, hen. jus' wha' i wanted to see." a shiver dances up your spine, notches trembling as you get used to the unforgiving stretch of the toy. his breath warms the side of your neck. "on yer go."

you come around it no less than three times, leaving it milky and johnny cleans it up with his mouth before he cleans you up.

-

the girth of it is something you'll never get used to but it does get easier. when johnny goes back to work, he tells you that all he asks for are videos of you using it. for his collection, he greedily says.

you send him as many as you can, no matter the hours. just a quick nsfw text before getting his thumbs up and away it goes. it's incredibly fun. the relationship hadn't been dull by any means, but this just feels invigorating. you feel rejuvenated. that johnny is your biggest cheerleader while using it is such a bonus.

you oughta marry him. maybe you'll elope the next time he's home. but when the next time comes, johnny calls you instead of messaging you the usual be home soon text.

and it sends you reeling.

bonnie. the toy treat ye well while i was gone?

no better than you could me, but yeah. i'm still sore from using it in the last video i sent you.

that's great. if ye like the toy then ye'll love the real thing, i ken. we'll be there in 10.

[hexcii]

Crossover moment… part two!!

Guys go read Chasing Stars by @kaprisvn RIGHT NOW ITS SO GOOD AND AMAZING AND I LOVE IT AND— GAHHH I’m so excited for the future chapters <3333

Pushing our AUs together, they are all friends now <33

Hi Kapri I love you /p

[agender-wolfie]

I need to be put in a headlock and prone boned until I’m fucked dumb all while being called a “good baby”… pls 🥹

[jetblack4realz]

his little girl - yellowstone boys

how the yellowstone (+ 1923) boys react to you having their daughter

i think i might make this a series if y'all are interested. i think it'd be cute! i'll do kayce (obvs), rip (ofc), ryan (what a man), lee (we didn't get enough of him), jimmy (i haven't seen a single thing on here for him, not that there isn't but still), and spencer (he's iconic)!!

lmk if you want anything in particular for any or all of these guys! i think it could be fun :)

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kayce dutton:

when you first got pregnant, you were so certain it was going to be a little boy, and that's what you told kayce. he smiled over at you, hand on your stomach as he shook his head.

"and why's that, baby?" he wondered.

"he's been kicking like a boy, and i've got the skin to show it's a boy. i've always imagined that i'd be a boy mom," you answered with a shrug, leaning into his embrace comfortably. "and we've already got tate. i think it'll be another boy."

and he'd been alright with that. he let you have your dreams of what to name him and how you'd have him and tate match in little cowboy outfits. you even omitted the gender reveal in favor of it being a surprise, but also because you were so certain it was a boy.

but, when that little girl came out, you both were in instant happy tears.

kayce held her first due to some complications during birth, and he suddenly remembered the joy that came with being a father. as he stared down at his baby girl with eyes that matched his, he was flooded with a certain protectiveness that didn't come with tate. this was his little girl - nobody was going to mess with her.

to say she was spoiled by her daddy was an understatement. there wasn't a day that he didn't come home with a new handful of wildflowers, one for each of his girls, and sit on the floor having her explain all her little drawings to him. when tate would mess with her, teasing as a good older brother would, kayce would give him a stern shake of his head, holding her close to his chest as she sniffled.

"she ain't a boy, bud," he told him. "i know she's your sister and you wanna tease her, but you gotta treat her like a lady."

"i just wanna make her laugh," tate defended.

"find another way, okay pal? there's a million ways to make her laugh and only a few to make her cry. let's figure that out, alright?" he said, pulling the boy into his side for a hug. tate looked at his sister, thinking for a moment before making a funny face, sticking out his tongue and crossing his eyes as he pulled his mouth at a funny angle. she burst into a fit of giggles, kayce high-fiving him as she clambered out of his lap to go play with her older brother.

you had to be the one to teach her to rope and ride, ensuring she had the true makings of a cowgirl because kayce did not want that life for her. he hoped that she wouldn't ever end up with a cowboy. but, once she knew how to ride well enough, he'd take her on long rides with him and tate, explaining the beauties of montana to them both.

he first bought her a dress from a little boutique in town and a matching bow to go with it when she was five, beyond excited to dress her in it and take her out on a daddy daughter date. you took tate on a mommy son date that same night, smiling as you saw your husband and daughter eating ice cream through the store window as tate dragged you to the theater down the street.

kayce stayed protective, but supportive of what she wanted - except for when she started getting cutesy around the newest ranch hand rip had let stick around, a kid called carter. kayce nipped that one in the bud real fast.

he thrived as a father, it was his true calling, with both tate and your little girl. having both felt like his life had equalled out and he ensured they had a close bond as well. kayce isn't a girl dad or a boy dad, he's just a dad, and he loves it.

rip wheeler:

rip would never admit it, but whenever he imagined finding a girl, settling down, and starting a family, it was always filled with daughters. it was easy to assume that he'd want all boys - he was one of the most manly men montana had ever seen. but, with that, he felt a need to have girls to protect, to be strong for.

so when that first baby ended up a girl, he was silently ecstatic.

"baby, it's a girl," he mumbled to you, his smile the widest you'd seen it since your wedding day.

he was so supportive during labor, petting your hair out of your face as you squeezed his hand tightly. when your little girl finally started crying, he took her straight from the doctor and set her on your chest, one hand on your arm and the other on the baby's back.

he watched over the both of y'all carefully. it was obvious to everyone that you were his number one priorities, and if anyone so much as mentioned your names with the wrong tone he was ready to fight.

rip started taking her out on rides as soon as she was able to be strapped to his chest and sit on a horse without crying, which was actually awfully early. you told him it was only because she was his daughter that he was able to do this, but they both loved it. she was an expert rider by the time she was eight years old, and a good roper too.

you had two twin girls after her, both absolutely adored by rip and their older sister. you were able to go on family rides at that point, you and rip with each one of the littles in front of you and your oldest perched behind rip with wide wondering eyes.

"daddy, an eagle!" she cheered, pointing over his shoulder at a bald eagle flying over the trees.

"good eye, baby," rip said, smiling as he high-fived the little girl.

she quickly became his right hand man. even at four years old, she was grabbing him a banana for breakfast before he headed out the door or helping him clean his boots. the older she got, the more responsibility she got, which was fine by her. she was strong and determined and a total daddy's girl.

until she became a brother's girl.

carter showed up when she was seven and she fell in love with him quickly. he was sweet with her, carrying her on his back out to the barn as she helped him shovel stalls the best she could.

rip didn't know how to feel about it until you finally approached him about adopting carter.

"it wouldn't be anything official since neither of y'all have any documentation or anything," you told him, fiddling with your fingers. "but, that boy needs a home. and rip, i really love him, and so does she, and so do you. we've got one extra room and a place at the table. i want him here. you've seen him with our baby girl, he wants to be a part of this family too. please, rip."

and so that was that. after you sat the boy down and told him, he became even more dependable. he was an avid protector of your daughter and rip actually began smiling at the sight of the two of them walking around the ranch.

rip didn't love carter the same way he loved his baby girl, he was always meant to be a girl dad, but he appreciated him nonetheless. the way he was with rip's daughters helped secure him in the little wheeler family, and rip was happy about it.

ryan:

ryan was in no way prepared to be a father. when you told him you were pregnant he about shat himself.

"but we used protection," he said, eyes wide as he paced the bunkhouse.

"well, quite obviously it didn't work," you said. you grabbed his arms. "ryan, hun, it'll be okay. okay? it'll all work out, we'll figure it out."

"i don't have anything for you. i can't do anything for you. i don't have a house for myself, i barely have my own truck, i make enough to live but i don't know how to provide for you," he stressed.

"we'll figure it out," you emphasized again, wrapping your arms around his neck tightly.

and you did. with how long ryan had been working on the yellowstone ranch and how close your family was to the duttons (how you'd met ryan, actually), john gave you space in the main house to take care of you new little girl - heavens knew there was enough room, he barely even noticed you were there. he, himself, was kind of obsessed with the idea of having another pseudo grandchild, and ryan was convinced that was the only reason he worked it all out for y'all.

ryan was a nervous father. he was uber careful, keeping constant eyes on the baby or whoever was holding her. ninety percent of the time, that person was himself. he barely even let colby hold her and he cursed out jimmy when he asked, saying how he wasn't about to let that dumbass, brain-injured, bronco-riding klutz of a rodeo star hold his precious baby girl and drop her on her head just like his parents had done to him, obviously.

everyone had a good laugh about that one.

your little girl wasn't around the horses or cows, or even a damn rope for so much of her life, but what she was around was poker. ryan had her in his lap as they played cards since she was a month old and not sleeping through the night. somehow, impeccably, she went down without a fuss after sitting through a few games of cards with her father and his friends.

when she got a bit older, he taught her all his favorite childhood card games, but she got bored of them. when you first walked in on him explaining poker to her, you about smacked him upside the head, but when you saw her smiling and figuring out the order of the cards you let it slide.

"she'll be cheatin' out the rest of us in no time," ryan said, running a hand over her hair as he smiled up at you.

"whatever you say, cowboy," you sighed, sitting next to her and picking at the chips he'd laid out for her.

for her tenth birthday, he threw her a poker party with the rest of the wranglers, the duttons, tate, and carter, with ibc rootbeers in a cooler to make her feel just as cool as the rest of them. it was the first time she'd played with anyone but her parents, and she was stoked.

she smoked their asses.

they were freaking flabbergasted, even ryan. he pressed a kiss to her head, laughing as he congratulated her. "that's my kid, everybody."

lee dutton:

lee never wanted kids.

he knew it, you knew it, john knew it, hell, the whole family knew it. it was never in his plan.

but, you also weren't in his plan. he'd had a perfectly organized idea of being the forever bachelor of the yellowstone, hitting up bars for quick girls when he wanted a makeout or one night stand or whatever, and then returning to life on the ranch.

well, you showed up, a horse trainer from the sixes, travis wheatley's little sister, and he fell in love so fast he almost tripped over his feet. he rushed into dating you, proposing, and marrying you but no one in montana had any complaints, except for maybe your father, but he was in texas so it didn't matter in the long run. and he also, accidentally, rushed into getting you pregnant, which was not the goal at all.

"i know, and i'm sorry, but i'm keeping it, baby," you'd told him the night he found the test. you held his face in your hands, brows furrowed. "i want this. i hope you can understand that."

"i never wanted kids," he told you, shaking his head and breathing out a deep sigh. "but, uh, with you? with you, i'm not so opposed." he looked up at you, mustering a small, almost scared smile. "hell, we're already here, ain't we? let's fuckin do this thing, baby."

"language, lee," you laughed.

his mind was blown when you gave birth, absolutely scared and amazed out of his mind when the nurse handed over this perfect, slightly messy, bundle of pink blankets screaming bloody murder to him as they cleaned you up.

"holy shit," he muttered, staring down at his daughter with wide eyes.

"language, lee," you groaned, sitting up and reaching out for the baby. he handed her to you immediately, watching the both of you carefully.

his world changed that day.

as soon as you were ready to let her out of the house, he took her everywhere with him, and he was not ashamed about it. the strap-on baby carrier was his best friend as he walked around the house, grabbing her nursing bottles before heading out to the barn. john laughed when he saw him the first time.

"and what the hell are you doing? you can't cowboy with a baby, lee," he told his eldest.

"watch me," was his answer.

you didn't know he was doing all this, only being told that he'd take her out while you got some rest or did whatever you needed to get done. it was nice to have little breaks throughout the day, but you worried if she was hungry. well, until you saw the little bottle holster he'd made himself that he kept strapped to his side.

you almost thought it was ridiculous, but it was the best possible outcome you could've hoped for, so you let him take her out every few days.

that girl was practically a cowboy by the time she was five years old. she knew all the terms, had her own boots, was dressed in the same wranglers and carhartts as her dad and grandpa, and always was begging for a horse. she wasn't allowed quite yet, but lee promised her she'd get one eventually.

he took her out hunting with him basically her whole life, teaching her the sacredness and also the practicality of it. she became obsessed with guns when she was eight, something you became especially worried about. you made him put extra locks on each case and then on the safe, the fear of her getting into them eating you alive. she complained about not being able to get a tag until she was twelve, but you thanked the state for it.

lee, of course, found a workaround where she began shooting bucks as big as the bed of his truck when she was only ten because it was on the dutton property - who was going to know? if she could love him anymore than she already did, she definitely did after that.

you kept it to the one kid, knowing she was all lee could really handle. and you were both happy to have her be the center of your worlds. and as much as some traditional montanans might argue that dutton ranch's succession should be male, anyone who met your daughter knew that that little ten year old was as much a cowboy as anyone on the ranch, following in the large footsteps of her grandpa and father with exactness.

jimmy:

jimmy was ecstatic when he learned you were pregnant, as nervous as it made him too. everything in his life was starting to work out; he'd figured out his dream job - to be a horse trainer, he had a good job, y'all had just gotten married, and he bought his first house right by the sixes.

"this is perfect," he told you, kissing your forehead as he smile widely. "everything is so perfect now, darlin'."

when you learned it was a girl that day at the doctor's office, he was even more ecstatic.

"our little cowgirl," you told him as he pulled you into his side.

"our little cowgirl," he nodded, a certain proud smile on his lips as he thought about what it'd be like raising a little cowgirl as a real cowboy now himself.

now that he had money, and good money too, he let himself go out and buy the baby all sorts of things, from cow printed blankets to little stuffed horses. you laughed when he came home one day with tiny little baby boots.

he put them on her as soon as she'd grown enough to give him the chance. he held her hands as he walked her around the room, the small girl bouncing a bit as she situated in her boots.

"i know they're kinda funny, hun," he hummed to her as she walked with him. "but, they're actually the best sort of shoe. you're gonna love 'em."

his favorite part of the day had always been coming home to you, but it was even better now that he had two people to come home to. and she loved her daddy, babbling with that big baby smile as she crawled to him. he'd always scoop her up into his arms and give her a big kiss on the cheek before walking through the rest of the house to find you.

he told her stories about the yellowstone ranch when he tucked her into bed, her favorite black and white spotted stuffed horse in her arms as she gazed up at him with a smile and big hazel eyes that mirrored his own.

when she got older, you started bringing her down to the arena to show her what exactly her daddy did. at that point, he was on travis' main team of show horse trainers, and he was happy to show off for his wife and little girl. she was always excited to watch him, hanging off the fence with a wide grin as you stood behind her, waving at your husband just as travis yelled at him to get back to work. it was the first time jimmy had ever really talked back to him, yelling not to curse when his daughter was around. travis never did it again and began to show off for the eight year old when she was around too.

she was spunky, way spunkier than jimmy was ready for and sassier than he ever had been. "she gets this from you."

when she went to travis asking for her own horse and better lessons, her brows raised and arms crossed over her chest, jimmy nearly had a heart attack. he dismounted his horse, crossing to his daughter but not making it before travis responded.

"what do i get if i do? horses aren't free, you know."

"a new trainer," she answered, nodding at him firmly. "i've seen y'all do this my whole life. i've rode my whole life. just gimme a shot."

at the ripe age of ten, she'd managed to convince travis wheaton to give her a horse, let her dad teach her, and the opportunity to stay on as she trained. travis laughed when he passed jimmy, shaking his head. "i hate to break it to you, but she ain't your kid, jimmy."

jimmy breathed a sigh of relief before he pulled her up onto his horse, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

"you've really got to talk to me about things like that before you just do it," he said. "that's my boss, you know that?"

"he ain't my boss," she laughed, kissing her dad on the cheek.

spencer dutton:

spencer had always wanted kids. and ever since he met you he knew he wanted to have them with you. but, life as a hunter in africa was dangerous enough as it is that you both agreed to wait.

life had other plans.

well, you weren't exactly careful, for one, and for two birth control was iffy, so you should've seen it coming sooner or later. it probably should've been later, but what the hell.

he decided that was the right time to quit being a predator hunter then and did what he could to get you both back to montana, hopefully before you popped. you didn't argue - you wanted to be home when you had your baby too. he took excellent care of you on each ship, each town, and on the train west, ensuring you always had water and foods that didn't make you want to throw up, being a constant pillow for when your body decided it needed a nap, and paying for the most comfortable accommodations the different vessels had.

you didn't know the gender of the baby until after you had her. you were exhausted, but spencer had been right by your side the whole way through, smoothing your hair back and cooling you down with a wet cloth as cara coached you through it.

the look on his face when cara exclaimed it was a girl was one you would never forget; a mixture between love, adoration, and excitement, and fear, protectiveness, and anxiety.

he coddled that baby girl. every night, he spent hours cooing to her as he rocked in the rocking chair his father had built when he was just a baby. he told her stories about cowboying and africa, sang her lullabies cara used to sing to him, and never missed an opportunity to kiss her sweet chubby cheeks.

"you're so good with her," you mumbled to him one night as you sat on his lap in the chair, head tucked into his neck as he held you in one arm and the baby in the other. "how do you do it?"

"i don't know," he whispered, glancing at you with a gentle smile before you both returned your gazes to your daughter. "loving her comes as easily to me as loving you. it's as natural as anything i've ever felt."

"so it's just instinct that helps you calm her in any situation?" you asked.

"well, i can't calm her in every situation," he said with a quiet chuckle. "you've got the only solution sometimes. but, yeah. i guess in other ways it is."

then things got worse with whitfield and the ranch. she was older then, about six, and spencer made sure she knew to never go anywhere alone, to scream for help if she ever saw anyone she didn't know on the ranch (because she knew and adored literally every cowboy working for jacob), and to run. fast.

and she was fast. like, surprisingly fast. she took great pleasure in challenging spencer and jack and jacob to races. spencer and jack always pretended to let her win, and so did jacob, but after he got shot she actually did start to win. when he was told to walk around to get better, she thought she would be encouraging by walking right by his side a little faster than he was able to. it did actually get him moving quicker, but cara was constantly rolling her eyes as she did it.

when she got older, of course spencer taught her how to shoot and hunt.

"this is what daddy did before you were born, princess," he told her as he helped her line up the sight to the target.

"kill things?" she asked, raising her brows. you laughed as you sat to the side, watching in amusement.

he cleared his throat, his brows furrowing a bit. "well, i mean, yes, but i was protecting people from animals that wanted to hurt them. and other times getting food for the family."

"so, do i have to get food for the family now?" she asked, looking down at the gun. he laughed.

"you don't have to, no," he reassured. "i just wanted to show you. it's something i love to do, and something to protect you. that's why mama knows."

"mama knows?"

"yes, i do, baby," you chimed in with a smile. "he showed me back when we were just teenagers. he's a lot better than me though, so you listen to him."

"can we shoot something real next time?" she asked, glancing back at spencer.

"maybe not next time, but when you get enough practice in then yeah," he answered.

"when is that?"

she had a lot of questions. and she always asked them. but, spencer was as even kiln as ever, so patient when he responded to her and made sure her curious little mind found the answers it needed.

but, whenever you thought of spencer as a father, there was always one night that came to mind. she was probably four and it was way past her bedtime. y'all had put her to sleep maybe ten times before she finally stayed in her room and you left to hopefully get some rest.

except spencer turned on the radio. you'd just gotten it the day before and were so excited about it and when he flicked it on, some slow, country tune was playing through it. he took you in his arms then, holding you close to his chest with his lips on your temple, swaying you both gentle along to the tune.

you were smiling the whole time, letting him twirl you once before bringing you in close again. only a few minutes into your impromptu slow dancing, your door was pushed open and in walked your toddler.

there was no shouting or frustrated demand for her to go back to sleep, even though that was very tempting given your last hundred tries to have her do just that. instead, spencer pressed a kiss to your head and twirled you out of his arms as he moved to scoop her up instead. he held her up with one arm, his other holding her hand as he spun slowly in circles.

"if i let you dance with mommy and me will you stay in bed?" he said, raising his brows as he met the eyes that matched his. she giggled, nodding as he kissed her cheek. "okay, then let's dance baby."

you leaned up against the bed frame, watching them with crossed arms and a smile as the music played through the small radio. he met your eyes and his smile grew, slowly spinning his way over to you. releasing your daughter's hand, he took yours instead and pulled you in close. his hand moved to your waist and soon you had your arms wrapped around him and your baby girl as he held her between you, swaying slowly.

as the song ended, he twirled you and then spun himself to earn a giggle from the toddler before setting her down and taking her small hand to give her a twirl as well.

your heart was so full in that moment. when he returned from tucking her in for the (hopefully) last time, you kissed him slowly, pulling away with a soft smile.

"you're a good dad, spencer," you told him. he shrugged, pulling you back in to hold you in a gentle embrace.

"you're a good mom. you make it easy for me."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

thanks for reading! leave a request in the comments or message me privately! i love writing, so if you've got an idea you need fleshed out on paper i'd love to be the one to do that for you

masterlist!!

[emmyrosee]

Okay listen when sunas kid calls his mom the same pet name Suna is like “oops” but tell me why if it was Atsumu he’d be like “excuse you that’s my wife get in line buddy”

Like the guy is very comically threatened over anything and everything you could be commenting the cherry blossoms and he’s like “ok but what about me tho am I also pretty”

OENDIDDND NO YOU DONT UNDERSTANDDDDDDDD

Atsumu legit like. Your BEING is his entire world, there is no life without you, nor does he want one. You are his rock, his soul, his heart, his life, and he will be absolutely DAMNED if Hisako and Kousei DARE try to steal HIS pet names for you.

LIKE-

“Hey beautiful,” he whispers, sneaking up behind you. His hands slip on your waist, big hands splaying out lovingly against the bone, and he’s sponging kisses along the side of your neck and face. “What’re you making?” On the counter, Kousei watches with big, soft eyes, watching his father closely.

“The tiny humans wanted cookies,” you hum, tipping your head back to rest against his shoulder. “Kousei wanted to help. Should be done soon.”

He lets out a sigh of relief, “you know how to make me happy, sweet girl.”

You laugh and press a kiss to his jawline, and you watch in your peripheral as Kousei bounces in excitement.

“Seet giw.”

You giggle fondly at Kousei blinking up at his father just past your shoulder, and calling you (as best as he can) the pet name he just whispered, probably in hopes of also receiving such an affection from you. “Boo-ful.”

“Hey,” Atsumu hisses. “She’s mommy to you, got it? Back off.”

“Tsumu!” You giggle.

Kousei clearly doesn’t understand his father’s threat, laughing at his intensity, but when you turn to look at Atsumu properly, his eyes are blown in possession. “You don’t call her that. Only daddy.”

“Daddy does what?”

Hisako comes in at the commotion, her babydoll dangling from one of her fists as she tugs on your pant leg. “What do daddy do?”

“Daddy calls mommy names, and only he can,” he grumbles.

Hisako gasps, “you shouldn’t do that!! ‘Smean.”

“Not those kind of names, sweetheart,” you laugh, scooping her up and into your arms, where she rests her head on your shoulder. “You know how sometimes daddy calls mommy pretty?”

“You are pretty!” She squeals.

“You don’t get to say that!” He whines.

��Atsumu,” you titter.

“Why not?”

“I’ve earned the privilege, you haven’t.”

“But I wanna call mommy pretty,” she pouts, genuinely in distress. “What do I say in school when they ask what mommy looks like?”

“Not my problem,” he grunts.

You playfully roll your eyes and kiss Hisako on the head, “of course you can call me pretty, baby. I would like that very much.”

“Pit-tea!” Kousei chimes.

“I’m about to send them both to their rooms,” he hisses.

“You so are not,” you snicker, turning to face your husband. “Besides-“ you kiss his cheek before whispering in his ear, voice low to keep Hisako from listening, “there are some names only you get to call me.”

He grins, demeanor softening. His fingers gently dig into your hips, making you shiver.

“Damn right.”

[differenteagletragedy]

It’s not just the wanting that undoes Simon — it’s the shame in wanting. The overwhelming, all-consuming shame that makes his skin crawl and his muscles ache. Because he shouldn't want you like this. He shouldn't need it, but he does, and it nearly tears him clean in two.

He's too big to shove himself into such tiny boxes, but it's all he's ever known, so he tries anyway. The pliant son molded into the dutiful soldier. He's strong, capable and solid. Not weak, not anymore. Never weak.

But somehow you, with gentle, capable hands, find layers in him that he never knew he had -- he never wanted to have. You see parts of him that he's never even wanted to acknowledge, and it makes him feel vulnerable for the first time in a long time. And it stirs something in him that hurts.

A little boy with dark, sad eyes who wondered why no one seemed to love him. The same boy, a bit older, who told himself he didn't need the love anyway.

And he didn't, for so long. He knows he didn't. He survived just fine, behind his mask and his orders. When he got hurt, it was superficial -- a bloody wound he could watch heal.

Now, when he watches you run your fingers and lips over old scars, it feels like you're healing something deeper. But to feel that is to acknowledge those ancient aches, to know there is something inside him that's broken, and it's hell. It's a reckoning he didn't see coming, and he wasn't prepared for it at all.

You carry him through it. You encourage him to be more than the small, singular things he's always been, and you show him, through words and actions, that every last bit of him is worth loving. You see the beauty in the parts of himself he's always been so sure are bad and ugly, and he trusts you enough that he thinks someday he might start to see that beauty too.

[themindofachronicdaydreamer]

Sensei's in a Relationship?

floofy af plot: after overhearing their sensei on the phone, nobara and yuuji begin to conspire about who Satoru Gojo was calling sweetie - only to learn he's married? content: just typical lighthearted jujutsu high kinda things word count: 4.3k satoru gojo x fem!reader note: he's so husband

"Sensei!?" Nobara Kugisaki exclaims in disbelief. "He is in a relationship? Are you sure?"

"Positive!" Yuuji Itadori aggressively nods his head up and down in attempt to convince his classmate of what he saw, knowing she is doubting his integrity. "He was on the phone with someone talking about them coming home and called them sweetie. What else could that mean?"

"Um, a lot of things!" Nobara audibly rolled her eyes, sighing loudly and bringing her palm to her forehead in distress. "It could be, like, family. Maybe his mom, or his... sister? Does he have a sister? There is no way that man-child is in a relationship!"

"Sensei is not a man-child! He's very respectable!" Yuuji defends the honor of his teacher. "And I don't think he has a sister..."

"Respectable, my ass," Nobara quips under her breath, though she knows that as much as she may deny it, she respects her superior, Gojo, immensely; in all honesty, she looks up to him more than she'd like to admit to herself. He is obviously strong, titled The Strongest Sorcerer by the entirety of the Jujutsu society for a reason. Kugisaki has learned a lot from him and his untraditional teaching strategies - about both her own talents and about the world of jujutsu. However, his childish personality makes her second-guess trusting the authority, but it is a nice change from the intensity of the career path she has chosen.

To Nobara, Satoru Gojo is like a breath of fresh air from the pressure of her environment that suffocates her day after day. He brightens her days by buying his first-years sweet treats after missions he oversees and cracking lame jokes, teasing his students as he so loves to do. He endures her criticism and teenage attitude, even going as far as sassing her right back. Nonetheless, she keeps this information hidden from the outside world, opting instead for criticizing his immaturity.

"Hey, that's our sensei!" Itadori exclaims in anguish.

"Ugh. Seriously, who would willingly put up with... that?" the girl questions and motions in the direction of the school behind her, an attempt at pointing in their teacher's direction. Her nose is scrunched in scrutiny, her eyebrows furrowed in thought, and she is stuck in a neverending state of disbelief. "Right, Fushiguro?"

Megumi only hums in response, not bothering to articulate his opinion, as, soon enough, he is certain his classmates will learn for themselves who Gojo was talking to.

"Like, literally any person who respects themself would obviously steer very clear from him," she says, motivated by what she interpreted as Megumi agreeing with her. "Like Mr. Nanami!"

Yuuji stares at Nobara, his mind encapsulating him in an impossible mystery he hungers to solve. While there is always the possibility he heard wrong, he is almost one-hundred percent confident he in what he eavesdropped in on and reported back to his classmates. However, maybe he is assuming things and his teacher was just speaking to family - wait, does Gojo even have family? Obviously he has his clan which he is the main representative of, but nothing about parents or siblings has ever been spoken about by the man, nor has he ever mentioned a potential partner. If sensei was a private person with his relationships, then one would think he would not be such an open book all the time about every detail of his life.

"I dunno..." Yuuji contemplates, though he does not get the chance to continue his thoughts. Saving Yuuji from continuing down the spiral he is already racing down headfirst in, Nobara squeals a little before covering Yuuji's mouth with her hand.

"He's on his way over! Don't say a word," she warns.

Yuuji mumbles into her hand. His voice is muffled through her, but a confused what? can sort of be made out from it.

Megumi rolls his eyes at their antics, well aware of who his teacher was talking to on the phone call Itadori overheard, but not caring enough to confirm it to them. He kind of found it funny, actually. After all, you are the closest thing he has to a mom, raising him from when he was a child alongside Gojo, balancing his childlike mentality with your more maternal and serious one.

"Morning!" Gojo greets his students, chronically late as always.

"About time," Megumi groans.

"Sorry, buddy! Had some things I had to do. Y'know, places to be, people to talk to. But I'm here!" Gojo poses slightly as if to showcase himself to the teens in front of him. His hands are imitating jazz hands to emphasize his arrival.

Gojo pauses, sensing the heavy scrutiny from his students. His smile widens, curiosity twinkling mischievously behind his blindfold.

“Oh?” he hums lightly, leaning toward them with playful suspicion coloring his tone. “What’s with the faces? Did you all miss me that much? Kugisaki, I knew you secretly liked me!"

Nobara flushes a shade akin to outrage, sputtering indignantly, “You wish, sensei! Keep dreaming.”

Gojo laughs, carefree and vibrant. “You’re always so mean to me. You’re breaking my delicate heart here.”

Megumi rolls his eyes again, but there’s a barely noticeable upturn at the corner of his lips. He enjoys the familiarity of their banter, even if he’d never admit it aloud.

Yuuji, however, cannot keep silent. His eyes practically sparkle with the burning question. “Sensei, who were you talking to on the phone just now?”

Nobara shoots him a glare sharper than daggers, but Yuuji remains unfazed, his gaze intensely fixed on his teacher.

“Phone call?” Gojo tilts his head innocently, playing dumb as effortlessly as he uses his limitless technique. “I’ve talked to plenty of people today, Yuuji. You’ll have to be a bit more specific.”

“Uh,” Yuuji stammers, suddenly unsure how to phrase it. “You called someone sweetie-”

Nobara cuts in desperately, “Which is weird, because we all know you’re single. No one in their right mind would put up with you."

Gojo’s smile softens at the edges, something gentle and private easing into the lines of his face. It’s subtle enough that they might have missed it, but Megumi sees it clear as day. “Oh, that call,” Gojo finally sighs dramatically, lifting his chin proudly. “I suppose it was bound to come out eventually.”

Nobara’s eyes narrow, and her whole body stiffens, as though bracing herself for some kind of cosmic joke. “Bound to come out eventually?” she echoes. “Oh my god, you’re actually serious right now?”

Gojo straightens up, his hands dropping to his sides as a rare moment of honesty glimmers behind his usual antics. “Dead serious.”

Nobara makes a strangled sound. “No. Nope. Not buying it. Not until I see her with my own eyes.”

“You’ll get your chance,” Gojo says with a shrug, as if he’s announcing the weather forecast. “She’s stopping by soon to bring me lunch.”

Yuuji, meanwhile, is positively buzzing. “She’s coming here? Like, here-here? When? Is she nice? Is she pretty? Do we need to prepare? Nobara, do we need to prepare?!”

“I’m not preparing anything,” she bites out, crossing her arms. “In fact, I’m preparing to prove this is all some elaborate prank. Like a cursed illusion or some weird social experiment.”

“You’re right,” Gojo muses, tapping his chin with mock gravity. “Love is the most cursed thing of all.”

Megumi makes a noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan. “You’re all being ridiculous.”

Nobara rounds on him again, a gasp escaping her. “You knew?”

He shrugs, deadpan. “You didn’t ask.”

Yuuji’s jaw drops. “Traitor!”

Megumi only offers a faint smirk in response, folding his arms in a clear sign that he’s already lost interest in the theatrics of his classmates.

“I can’t believe Fushiguro knew this entire time and didn’t tell us!” Yuuji whines, his tone dramatically wounded.

Gojo places a hand over his heart, feigning deep offense. “Fushiguro, how could you betray their trust like that?”

Megumi meets Gojo’s dramatics with a flat stare. “I figured you’d embarrass yourself sooner or later.”

“Ouch!” Gojo laughs, clearly unbothered. “You kids wound me. Why am I being bullied by my own dear students?”

“Sensei,” Nobara interrupts sharply, eyes narrowed in challenge, “there’s still a chance this could all be a cruel prank. I’ll reserve my shock until I meet this mysterious... person of yours.”

As if summoned by Nobara’s skepticism, footsteps echo softly from around the corner, carrying a warmth and calm that instantly changes the atmosphere around the little group. You appear at the edge of the training grounds, a gentle smile lighting up your face when you spot Gojo. Immediately, he turns toward you, his expression melting into something softer, more tender.

“Ah, there she is,” Gojo says warmly, voice gentle enough to silence even Nobara’s pointed skepticism. He steps toward you, effortlessly accepting the lunch bag you hold out for him. Leaning down, he presses a swift, tender kiss to your forehead. “Thanks, sweetie.”

You smile up at him, affection etched delicately into your features as your fingers brush gently against his cheek. “You’re welcome. Figured you’d forget to eat if I didn’t.”

Gojo hums appreciatively, his smile wide and unguarded. “What would I ever do without you?”

“Probably starve,” you joke lightly, your eyes sparkling as your laughter mingles easily with his.

You smile up at him, affection etched delicately into your features as your fingers brush gently against his cheek. “You’re welcome. Figured you’d forget to eat if I didn’t.”

Gojo hums appreciatively, his smile wide and unguarded. “What would I ever do without you?”

“Probably starve,” you joke lightly, your eyes sparkling as your laughter mingles easily with his.

Behind you both, Yuuji is barely containing his excitement, practically bouncing on his heels as he elbows Nobara repeatedly. “Did you see that? They- she- he- ”

“Yeah, Itadori, I have eyes,” Nobara mutters, though she sounds far less sharp than usual, her disbelief rapidly dissolving into fascination.

Beside her, Megumi exhales through his nose, quiet but not dismissive. There’s a flicker of something softer in his eyes as they land on you. “I thought you were in Kyoto for an assignment.”

You nod, easy and calm. “I was, but I finished ahead of schedule. Surprise!”

Yuuji perks up, practically bouncing with interest. “Wait, what do you do exactly? Are you a sorcerer? I've never seen you around before...”

“Not exactly. I’m a jujutsu researcher,” you reply, tone steady but warm. “My focus is on understanding the emotional roots of curses. I was reviewing formation patterns at the archive in Kyoto and trying to trace how grief, fear, and trauma shape the energy that creates them.”

The courtyard falls quiet, the usual chaos of their group hushed by the weight of your words.

Nobara’s jaw drops, caught between awe and disbelief. “Wait. You study the psychology of curses?”

You nod again, offering a small, knowing smile. “We focus so much on exorcising curses that sometimes we forget to ask why they form in the first place. Not just where or how, but what kind of pain shapes them. What grief, what fear, what unresolved emotion manifests into something as malignant as a cursed spirit.”

Gojo, still chewing a mouthful of whatever you packed for him, raises a finger and adds with a mouthful, “She’s brilliant. Like, scary brilliant. Makes even me look like a loser.”

“You are a loser,” Megumi mutters under his breath, though there’s no heat behind it.

“But wait,” Yuuji says, eyes wide and burning with curiosity. “So you’re like, a curse therapist?”

You laugh, the sound light and unguarded. “In a way, I guess you could say that. I study how people’s emotional states affect the strength and shape of the curses they attract, or even create. Sometimes I work with sorcerers who’ve formed semi-conscious cursed techniques tied to past trauma. If we can untangle the memory, the technique stabilizes.”

“That’s insane,” Nobara says, her disbelief now tinged with respect. “I didn’t even know that was possible.”

“It’s still experimental,” you admit, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “But I think it’s worth trying. If we can find a way to understand the why, maybe fewer people will need to suffer through the what.”

Gojo watches you with a quiet sort of reverence, one hand still resting lightly on your back, grounding you there beside him. “Told you,” he murmurs. “Way out of my league.”

You shoot him a sideways glance. “You're the one who never did your homework.”

He gasps in mock offense. “Betrayed in front of my students? I’m wounded.”

“You’ll survive,” you reply sweetly, already used to his dramatics.

Yuuji, visibly starstruck, nudges Nobara again. “She’s like… cool and smart and nice. What the hell?”

“I know,” Nobara whispers back, still staring at you. “I was expecting, like, a cursed puppet or something. Not this.”

You laugh again, this time unable to help it. “You’re all very sweet. But really, I’m just trying to help where I can. My work takes me to a lot of places, but I always try to stop by when I’m back in Tokyo.”

“She also makes the best miso soup on Earth,” Gojo says proudly, lifting the thermos you packed like it’s a sacred relic. “And she listens to me complain about Nanami, which is honestly more than anyone should have to do.”

Nobara doesn’t respond immediately. Her arms are still crossed, but her posture has softened, her expression unreadable in a way that means her mind is sprinting miles ahead. “She’s way too good for him,” she mutters at last.

Gojo catches it instantly. “Hey! I heard that, Kugisaki!”

She glares at him. “You were meant to, sensei. Ugh! I still don’t get it,” How does someone like you end up with... him?”

You laugh aloud. "I ask myself that everyday."

Gojo groans, wrapping one of his long arms around your shoulders and pulling you tight against his side. "Hey! Rude. I met her the first day here at Jujutsu High and was immediately head over heels!"

You snort softly at the exaggeration, but Gojo only beams harder, chin tilted with theatrical pride.

“I’m serious!” he insists, tightening his hold around you. “I saw her standing in the courtyard, reading some dusty journal on cursed energy theory, and I thought: wow. That’s the woman who’s gonna bully me for the rest of my life.”

“And you were right,” you reply, patting his chest with mock sympathy. “I haven’t stopped since.”

Yuuji gasps like he’s watching a romance drama unfold in real time. “Wait, so you were classmates? You trained together?”

Gojo nods, clearly pleased with the attention. “We were in the same year. Dr Iieri, Mr. Geto, her, and me. Absolute dream team.”

Nobara’s brows furrow. “So you’ve known each other this whole time and just- what? Never told anyone?”

"I mean, our wedding was pretty big. Megumi was the ring bearer," Satoru points out.

You bite back a laugh, glancing sideways at your husband as you elbow him gently. “Satoru.”

“What?” he says, all faux innocence, lips twitching. “It was a beautiful ceremony. Cherry blossoms. Champagne. Nanami even cried.”

“Nanami did not cry,” you correct with a soft snort.

“He definitely teared up,” Gojo insists. “Ask Shoko. She made him hold the bouquet while we took photos.”

“Hold on, back up,” Nobara interrupts, voice high with disbelief. “You’re telling me you’re married to Gojo Satoru, and none of us knew?”

You lift a shoulder, casual. “We didn’t exactly hide it.”

“Yes you did!” Yuuji cries. “You’re literally hiding a whole spouse! That’s the definition of hiding!”

Gojo shrugs unrepentantly. “In my defense, I thought it would be obvious. I’m charming, she’s brilliant. It was fate.”

Megumi lets out a long-suffering sigh, clearly done with all of this. “You’re all loud. Can we go back to training now?”

“No,” Nobara says sharply, still stuck on the revelation. “I need at least ten minutes to mentally recover from the image of Gojo Satoru saying I do.”

Gojo grins. “You should’ve heard my vows. Very moving. I cried."

“And I,” you interject sweetly, “very nearly walked out.”

Gojo gasps in offense, hand to his chest like you’ve run him through with a cursed tool. “You didn’t!”

“I did,” you confirm, turning to Nobara and Yuuji with a stage whisper. “He quoted Titanic.”

“I said, ‘You jump, I jump,’ and meant it from the depths of my soul,” Gojo defends, now fully spiraling into theatrical despair. “And I ended it with ‘Even death cannot stop true love.’ That’s The Princess Bride, by the way. Which I also cried during.”

"I did too!" Yuuji agrees. "And then I was punched in the face..."

Megumi visibly recoils. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m romantic,” Gojo retorts.

“You’re dramatic,” you correct, eyes warm despite the dry tone.

“But it worked, didn’t it?” he grins, leaning into you. “Still locked in for life, baby.”

Yuuji clutches his face. “This is too much. My heart can’t take it.”

Nobara makes a strangled noise. “I need to lie down.”

Megumi exhales deeply, rubbing his temples like he’s already aged five years. “I’m begging you both to stop.”

But Yuuji’s nearly vibrating with excitement. “So you’re like… my teacher-in-law? Do I call you sensei, too? Or like... Gojo-sensei’s-sensei?”

“Please don’t,” you say quickly, laughing. “Just my name is fine. And get used to seeing me - I'm going to be around more frequently."

Yuuji gasps. “Wait, more frequently? Like, you’re gonna be here-here? Not just like, dropping off lunch but actually around?”

You nod, amused at his enthusiasm. “I’ve been asked to consult more closely with Jujutsu High’s faculty. There’s been increased interest in integrating psychological research into sorcerer support programs.”

“Which means,” Gojo cuts in, waggling his brows behind his blindfold, “you get the pleasure of my company every single day.”

“Oh no,” Nobara groans. “There’s going to be two of them now.”

“I’m not like him,” you promise, hand lifting in a mock oath. “I’m only insufferable on weekends.”

“That’s a lie,” Gojo snickers, leaning close. “She once made Nanami take a feelings quiz. You should’ve seen the look on his face when it told him he was a ‘sensitive hedgehog with trust issues.’”

“He needed to hear it,” you say matter-of-factly. "Most accurate test ever made."

Megumi, who’s been suspiciously quiet through all of this, finally speaks again. “You’re really staying here for good?”

You nod, meeting his gaze with quiet warmth. “For now. My home’s here. Always has been.”

And Megumi, though he doesn’t say it, feels that truth land somewhere deep. Because this is where you raised him, quietly, without fanfare, next to a man who taught him power, while you taught him peace. Your presence means stability, means comfort, means late-night tea in the kitchen when the weight of legacy bears down too heavy. It means help with homework he doesn't fully grasp, movie nights on a random Thursday, and random notes tucked into his backpack wishing him good luck for the day.

He looks away before the emotion shows, muttering a soft, “Okay.”

Yuuji, meanwhile, is still vibrating. “Wait! If you’re staying, does that mean you can help with training? Like, could you give me a mental strength seminar or something? I'm sure I have so much trauma I haven’t unpacked yet.”

“You’ve been possessed by the king of curses,” Nobara says flatly. “Of course you have trauma.”

“But think about it!” Yuuji flails his arms. “We could have like, therapy class! Emotional dodgeball or something!”

“Dodgeball is very much physical,” Megumi sighs.

“It’s metaphorical if you cry afterward,” Yuuji defends.

Gojo barks a laugh. “You’re going to love working with them. They’re so fun!”

“I think I already do,” you say softly, casting a glance over the students who, despite their wildness and noise, hold pieces of both your hearts.

Gojo slips an arm around your waist, his voice quiet but genuine now. “I'm glad you’re back.”

You lean into him. “Me too.”

There’s a pause. A warm, golden kind of stillness, broken only by Yuuji whispering to Nobara, “Do you think they have a pet? Like a cursed dog or something? What would its name be? Lovebug?”

Gojo hears, of course.

“Actually,” he grins, “we have a cat. Her name’s Mochi. She’s a menace.”

“She likes Megumi best,” you add.

“She’s a traitor,” Gojo pouts. “I feed her and everything.”

“Love recognizes restraint,” Megumi deadpans.

"And what do you know about love, Megumi?" your husband raises a brow at the raven-haired boy in front of you.

“Alright,” Nobara interrupts, rubbing her temples. “Everyone shut up. I’ve had enough wholesomeness and plot twists for one morning.”

Yuuji bounces beside her. “But isn’t it kinda awesome? Sensei’s married! Like, legally! He probably has paperwork and a joint bank account!”

“Why is that the part that excites you?” Nobara hisses.

"It's so domestic!" Yuuji responds.

Gojo beams, flinging a dramatic arm toward the sky like he’s in a musical. “That’s right, Itadori! Domestic bliss, baby! I do the grocery shopping, she yells at me for forgetting the soy sauce, and then we make up over dumplings.”

“You forgot it three weeks in a row,” you mutter under your breath.

“Tragedy builds character,” Gojo counters.

You sigh softly, pinching the bridge of your nose as Gojo continues rambling about how he once bravely fought off a “soy sauce demon” in aisle five. His voice crescendos with theatrical flair, hands painting invisible chaos in the air while the students blink at him, caught somewhere between horror and secondhand embarrassment.

“...and there I was, soy-sauce-less, surrounded by expired tofu, when-”

“That’s enough, Satoru.”

Your voice cuts cleanly through the chaos. It's soft, but unmistakably firm, and it lands like a pin drop in the middle of a warzone. Immediately, Gojo freezes mid-rant, one arm still half-raised in a reenactment of his imaginary grocery duel. His mouth opens, then shuts. Then opens again like he might try to wriggle his way out with charm-

“Nope,” you say before he can even begin. “Don’t try the puppy eyes. You know what you did.”

Gojo deflates with a whine, turning his head to pout in your direction like an overgrown toddler caught red-handed. “But baby-”

You give him the look. “Satoru Gojo.”

He sags further at the use of his full name. Then, sheepishly, he says, “...I’ll go write soy sauce on the list.”

“That’s what I thought.”

You say it with a small, satisfied smile and turn your attention back to the students as if nothing out of the ordinary just happened - like you didn’t just put the strongest sorcerer in the world in time-out using nothing but tone, context clues, and a glare.

The silence that follows is deafening.

Nobara blinks once. Twice.

And then slowly, so softly it’s barely audible, she mutters, “...Oh my god. I love her! They’re perfect for each other.”

Yuuji turns to her like she’s just cracked a cosmic code. “Right! I told you!”

Megumi simply exhales, muttering something that sounds a lot like finally, before walking toward the training field.

Gojo lingers beside you, head bowed just enough to rest his chin lightly on your shoulder with a dramatic little sigh. “Do you still love me even though I’m a soy-sauce-forsaking disappointment?”

You glance at him, then tilt your head so your cheek brushes against his. “More than anything.”

“Even more than Mochi?”

You pretend to think. “Well. Mochi doesn’t forget condiments.”

Gojo gasps in betrayal. “Et tu, sweetheart?”

You just pat his cheek. “Go join the others before I make you run laps.”

“I knew this marriage came with fine print,” he mumbles as he trudges after his students.

You watch the ridiculous, brilliant, utterly impossible man you married go, and then you turn back to Nobara, who’s still standing frozen, arms crossed and expression unreadable. Your eyes meet. There’s a beat of silence.

Then, wryly, you ask, “Still not convinced?”

Nobara’s lips twitch upward. “No. I am. He needs someone who keeps him in line.”

You grin. “And I enjoy doing it.”

With a final nod, she starts after the boys, shaking her head under her breath. “Honestly... you're iconic. I have a feeling we'll get along.”

"I think so too," you agree with a smile.

And just like that, the world resets itself. Students return to their training, chatter rises, curses await, but this time, there’s a new undercurrent to the routine chaos. It's a quiet kind of awe, a shared glance between students, a barely concealed grin here and there. They’ve seen behind the curtain now. The man they’d thought was an untouchable, untamable force of nature had someone who could rein him in with a single look. Someone who didn’t just handle their sensei, but matched him - even loved him with an ease that defied expectation.

As the students scatter across the training grounds, wooden swords clashing and laughter echoing under the sky, you settle on a bench at the edge of the field, a journal in your lap, pen tapping idly at the margin. Not taking notes yet, just watching. Gojo glances back once from where he’s guiding Yuuji through a sloppy stance, flashing you a wink so quick you might’ve missed it if you hadn’t been waiting for it. You roll your eyes affectionately and return the gesture with a two-fingered salute. He beams like he did when you were teenagers, with the same goofy grin and sparkle in his eye.

Beside him, Yuuji watches the exchange with starry-eyed awe. “That was so smooth,” he whispers to Megumi.

Megumi doesn't look up. “It was not.”

Nobara sighs beside them, hands on her hips. Dreamily, she says, “I hope someone loves me enough one day to yell at me over soy sauce.”

Yuuji raises a finger. “Um... you yell at us over soy sauce.”

“That’s different!” she huffs.

“Is it?”

Gojo laughs loud enough to interrupt the bickering, and you lean back, letting the sun kiss your skin, the page in your journal still blank but your heart full.

This is what home looks like: curse-worn and imperfect, loud and ridiculous, stubborn and strange.

You wouldn’t trade it for anything.

-----

i love these kind of stories and i've had this in my drafts since AUGUST 7th bro so here you go lovelies <3 enjoY!

[snail-day]

On the topic of weddings, Suguru is definitely the type to want so many photos. He’s already deleted half the apps on his phone before you even get there, anything to make room. You and Satoru are dressed to the nines, absolutely radiant. Suguru, well he wants to capture every second. Every soft smile. Every little glance between the three of you.

He doesn’t even need to be in the photos himself. As long as you two are there - his heart, his home - he’s happy. But if you so much as try to sneak away from the camera for even a moment, he’s already at your side, hand slipping onto your lower back, expression warm but firm. Quietly excuses you from your conversation, a glare in his eyes to some poor soul before turning towards you.

“Ah ah… not so fast, love,” he coos, brushing your cheek with his thumb. “I haven’t gotten the one where you're both laughing yet. You know I hate missing things.”

He says it with a smile, sweet as honey, but there’s something quietly burning in his eyes, like the idea of losing even a single moment of you is unbearable. He doesn't get to see you both dressed up and glowing like this very often, and he wants to keep it. Forever. Just for him and his little scrapbook.

Satoru, on the other hand, is glued to your side the entire night. He’s dragging you to the dance floor for every. single. song. Doesn't matter if your feet hurt - he’ll pick you up and sway with you in his arms if he has to. You’re his darling, and tonight you look too pretty not to keep all to himself.

And when the music slows, Suguru steps in, always so gentle. so suave. His warm hand finds your waist, warmth spreading to your cheeks under his gaze, and he leans in close like the world has narrowed down to just the three of you.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear, soft and low. “Ours." a warning of sorts, "Don’t forget that, alright?”

Satoru, ever the tease, slips in behind you with a cheeky grin, chin resting on your shoulder as he hums swaying to the music, “We’d be so sad if you ever tried to run off. But don’t worry - we’d find you.”

They laugh. It’s lighthearted. Sweet. It's not like they let you outside very much anyways. Might as well enjoy tonight like it's your last. <3