#twin faucet

[missroxelot]

Bathroom Master Bath San Francisco Inspiration for a mid-sized contemporary master double-sink bathroom remodel with flat-panel cabinets, brown cabinets, soapstone countertops, gray countertops and a built-in vanity

[thenightfallen]

Donnie is destroying the bathroom

[lowkeyremi]

"DADDY I THREW UP"

How they react when their little ones throw up ! (we all know gojo is gonna be overreacting) ft. gojo, geto, choso, toji, and nanami

content: TW: vomit, no curse!au fluff, established relationship (marriage), children, families. (divider by kim jiho) same kids from jjk men as dads

Gojo Satoru

Satoru's on daddy duty for the next week and a half while you're gone, and so far he's actually doing quite well. Currently, he's making dinner from a simple recipe in the recipe book you've been making throughout the last few years.

Two year old Kenji waddles into the kitchen and tugs on Satoru's sweatpants. His head whips around to look down at his little mini-me.

"Hey Kenji, what's up little guy?" He puts his attention back on the wok with noodles in it to make sure he doesn't burn dinner. As he's stirring the food around with chopsticks Kenji starts to form a sentence, "Um.. throw up."

Satoru freezes. "W-what?" He knows exactly what Kenji said but he's scared to turn around. Kenji whines a little bit, "Throw up. Kenji throw up." Usually Satoru would find his toddler's 3rd person speaking cute but right now he feels himself breaking out into a cold sweat.

"Oh... um.. It's okay? Where is it?" Kenji's little feet waddle away from the kitchen expecting his daddy to follow after him. Satoru turns the heat down to low so the food won't burn, and follows his little boy to the 'crime scene'.

Kenji sticks his thumb in his little mouth and points to the throw up on the carpet.

"O-oh god, I think I'm gonna-" He gags and runs into the bathroom. Nothing comes from his mouth so he shudders. He needs to calm down, it's just a little throw up from his own kin, he'll be alright. The faucet runs and he splashes some water on his face.

"I can do this. I can do this. I can-" He hears the telltale sign of someone throwing up. Kenji is definitely sick. The throw up is followed by loud crying. Satoru's dad instincts kick in and he runs back over to where his little boy is.

"Hey, hey, hey, little guy. It's gonna be okay. Let's get you a bath, then I'll call mommy, okay?" Kenji nods. It breaks Satoru's heart hearing those little sniffles that leave his baby boy.

Geto Suguru

"PAPAAAAA!!!! Hana threw up!!!" Suguru looks at you and you stare right back.

"Don't look at me, I cleaned Hana's vomit yesterday while you were working late." He fights the urge to roll his eyes at you, because you're being childish in his mind.

Suguru makes his way to the kitchen so he can get the carpet cleaning spray out of the cabinet. "Fucking hell." He mumbles without realizing his six year old daughter was near by.

She gasps dramatically before yelling, "OOOOOO PAPA SAID A BAD WORD!!!" He screws his eyes shut, agitation was slowly seeping in.

"I'll put a dollar in the jar, but please stop screaming, Kana. Your sister doesn't feel good and the screaming is hurting Papa's head." He has retrieved the spray and a damp rag to clean up the soiled spot on the carpet.

"Sorry Papa." Kana's voice is lowered drastically. Being a curious little thing she follows her father to go check up on her little twin sister.

"You alright, princess?" Suguru sits close to her little pink bed and poor little Hana shakes her head 'no'.

"I don't feel good, Papa." She whines quietly. Suguru can tell by the way her eyes water, the sweat beads grow on her forehead and the way she frowns deeply that she definitely is sick.

"Why don't you go brush your teeth for me, princess? Then Papa will get you some medicine." Suguru understands his daughter very well. He'd always get sick while eating curses, sometimes they were so bad he would vomit all over the place. LOLLL no curse au so he aint gotta suffer.

She nods hopping from her bed to go brush her teeth in the bathroom. Suguru gets to work cleaning up the carpet.

Kamo Choso

Ryuji's school had called you because your boy threw up in school, which he was very embarrassed about because elementary schoolers always know how to make a big deal out of something small. Many children were crowding your son where he threw up some gasped in horror others laughed. Luckily the teachers were able to get the students under control once more.

They sent him to the nurse and she dialed you, "I'm so sorry, baby. Mom's out of town, give the phone back to the nurse so I can give her dad's number, okay?" He utters a quiet response before handing the phone over.

You chat with the nurse for a little bit giving her the information she needed then you told your son goodbye and hung up.

The nurse is quick to dial Choso and he picks up after the fourth ring. "Good morning, Sir. I'm calling because your son Ryuji Kamo threw up and he isn't feeling too good. We called Mom but she said she won't be able to come pick him up. Do you think you could check him out or do you have another trusted family member who could pick him up?" She's got a pen and notepad ready to write down another number if Choso couldn't make it.

"Oh dear, yeah I'll be there in about twenty minutes. Is his stuff packed already or..." He trails phone pressed to his ear, he hadn't been doing anything too important since he'd already finished up his meeting.

"No Sir, we'll send him right up to pack up. He'll be waiting for you in the main office."

"Alright, thank you." Choso's starting to worry, does he need to take Ryuji to the doctor? Should he stop at the grocery store and get soup? Should he make soup? Do you have kids cold/flu medicine at home? Your husband can't remember the last time Ryuji had vomited and he's pretty sure you'd taken care of it anyway.

"Hey Siri, how do I take care of my sick son?" She responds with 'here's what I found' he quickly scans over an article and the main idea is comfort him, make him something light, make sure he's hydrated, and gets plenty of rest. He could do that. Choso's not the best at emotions but he'll do what he can for his boy.

Eventually the two make it home, and Choso is quick to act. "Change into your pjs and I'll get you some medicine. How do you feel?" He needs a basic idea of what he's dealing with.

"My stomach reallyyyyyyy hurts." He whines holding his abdomen area tightly.

"Like you need to go to the bathroom kind of hurt?" Choso thinks it might be a stomach bug because his so shakes his head 'no'.

"Nuh uh, feels like someone is stabbing me in the stomach." His brows knit and a frown covers his face. it hurts to see his son suffering.

"Alright, I've got you kiddo. I'll take care of you." He promises to his growing boy.

"Thanks dad."

Fushiguro Toji

"Dad come look! I threw up! It's so cool!" Four year old Yui says, which is odd, no normal little kid is happy after throwing up so Toji is suspicious.

"Tell your brother to clean it up." Yui crosses her little arms and pouts.

"I already told Megumi and Nami!! They told me to go tell you!!!" He doesn't want to clean it up. He already has his work cutting out for him changing his newborn's diapers, cleaning up vomit was not on his list of to dos.

He would have told her to go ask you to clean it up but it's sunday and you usually go out for brunch with your friends. So, unless he somehow coaxed his stubborn son, Megumi, he'd have to do it himself.

When he finally reaches the bathroom, he groans in annoyance at how she just barely missed the toilet had she run a little faster she would have made it. To make matters worse it looks like she tried to clean it up herself and just spread it all everywhere.

"Oh, Sprinkles threw up too! Cuz he ate some of mine."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" A deep unsettling groan rips from his throat. Yui finds the whole ordeal funny, she's giggling and cooing at her father.

Bonus: A few days later you're walking past Yui's room and you hear her yell, "Are you fucking kidding me?!"

You instantly stop, "Excuse you little girl, who did you hear say that?"

"Dad said it when he had to clean up my throw up!!" She smiles brightly at you. She's so innocent she doesn't fully understand the weight of what she's said.

"That's a bad word sweet girl. Don't say that anymore, got it?"

You're given a little nod to indicate she understands.

"TOJI WHERE ARE YOU?!" He's about to get an earful from you.

Nanami Kento:

"Hey guys, I came as soon as I could." You exhale deeply as you set your keys on the rack and slip off your shoes. Kento had picked up your son because the school called saying he'd thrown up.

Kento appears from the hallway with a finger on his lip telling you to "shh".

You lower your voice to a whisper, "Is Hiro alright?" Kento walks up to you and gives you a comforting hug which you really needed.

"Yeah he's resting right now. He threw up in the car. Twice. I was going to go clean it up right now. Emmie should be waking up from her nap soon, though." You're so grateful to have a husband you can rely on in a time of need.

When Hiro's school had called you, you were in the middle of a very important meeting so you couldn't leave. Nanami had left work early to go pick up your son.

His smile is so intoxicating. You pull him by his collar and make his lips meet yours. He immediately reciprocates by bringing his hands up to cup your cheeks and kiss you back.

"Thank you, baby." His eyes are so beautiful and if you didn't have to go make sure to be there for your baby girl you would have continued to stare at them.

"Of course my love. Parenting is a two person thing for a reason."

"I bet by next week we'll be sick too." You say chuckling dryly.

"Most likely, yeah." He says shaking his head. He begrudgingly walks out to his car to clean up the vomit in the backseat.

[wifeyoozi]

Ot13 Seventeen : bondage (because the center pic above was on my interest home page and I immediately think of this)

seungcheol : he likes to first buy you dior and Prada and Chanel and then use the ribbons that comes along to tie your hands up when he fucks you that night.

Jeonghan: prolly ties each limb to each corner of the bed guy. Occasionally does that and teases you with toys and edges you all night long, knowing you can't do anything accept submit to him. DW he'll let you come eventually on his dick tho.

Joshua : I said before and I'll say again, he's a shibari guy. Will tie you up and leave you hanging and make you come multiple times in air using his mouth hands and various toys. Will have you crying before he let's you down and have his dick (he ain't the evil twin for nothing)

Jun : the one who likes to be tied up instead. Wants his hands behind his back tied up tightly as you bounce on his dick like he is your boytoy (he is)

Hoshi : ties your wrists and ankles together in a way you're be bending in half and opening for him with no other choice. It can be a completely romantic night or a total hard dom night, depending on his level of tiger that night. you tied up is his yeogi ocean view

Wonwoo: likes to tie around your torso like a harness and then around your neck (comfortably for you) so you'd choke for him just the right amount. Loves the way your boobs pop out of the harness.

Woozi : I have a fantasy that he'll tie you up in his studio one day because of how needy you were being while he was working and then he'll leave a vibrator pressed right against your clit and he has the remote to it so he can randomly change the settings from high to low to max anytime he wants and you're just writhing there, wetting his floor with your squirt and he might even record the sounds you make. it goes on foe eons until he is finally free from his computer and he comes and fucks you with his cock before untying you and taking you home for more (he warned you to not come to his studio so needy again or he'll torture you like that again but that's also the exact reason you keep coming back to his studio with a leaking faucet in your panties)

Minghao : he ties you up with pretty ribbons, makes you his art. He's doing it for the aesthetics but it turns him on so much. Literally wants to drink in the sight of you tied up like that in red ropes. Might take a few photos to see when he's far from you on tours and stuff.

Mingyu : ties your hands to the headboard as he fucks you in doggy. Probably bought those hot pink furry handcuffs just for this purpose. would also find other different creative surfaces throughout the house to tie you up and fuck you on.

Seokmin : he's tying you so gently when you suggested bondage because he's so scared of accidentally hurting you but he'll make them tighter on your encouragement and if you say the right words to him he'll fuck you harder than he has ever before, putting all those beautiful muscles in right use.

Seungkwan : likes to tie up your hands behind your back, esp when he being a harder dom. might even add a gag but not for long because he also loves kissing you. would get worried if the ropes leave red marks and prolly kiss them better as compensation.

vernon : likes to tie your legs together so they are just tight enough for thigh fucking. he isn't big on punishment sex, but on the nights he is going for that (since you were being too bratty all day long, literally asking for it), he'll tie you up so you can't touch yourself and would literally fuck himself everywhere but your puss.

dino : also lowkey into getting tied up instead but he underestimated how eager and needy he could be. his patience cannot deal with your slow speed but now he cant even do anything because he's all tied up and just watches you tease him and eventually bounce on his cock and give him what he desperately needs

[sincerelyyuu]

"in the end, it's still you." p3. • gojo satoru & geto suguru

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ synopsis: after you made your decision to leave your jujutsu sorcerer life behind, you find yourself longing for what once was and risking more than what you bargained for. ➼ pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader, geto suguru x fem!reader ➼ content/warnings: sfw, endless amounts of angst, sprinkles of fluff, heavy jujutsu kaisen 0 film spoilers, heartbreak, regret, unrequited love, death, blood, pet names, sorcerer!reader ➼ wc: 5.4K words ➼ a/n: this is the final part of this little angst series of mine. thank you so much to everyone for the amount of love you've given these three. as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated ♡ ➼ part one, part two, part three

Today was the day.  Suguru had coined it as the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons where he intended on releasing thousands of curses across Japan, focusing the epicenters of the attack in Shinjuku and Kyoto.

To say that your life had drastically changed over the last few years would be an understatement. Finding refuge in a grand temple located far away from the eyes of Tokyo, Suguru built himself a cult following. He spent his days collecting money from his loyal followers while also exorcising curses from non-sorcerers who sought him out, deeming him as a god for his “cleansing” talents.

Within this time, your days were simpler. Instead of waking up to the dread of having to fight curse after curse, you spent your time focusing on the little things that brought you joy. You started a little garden that was lush with a variety of flowers and greenery. Thanks to the seclusion of your new home, it made stargazing look something straight out of a fantasy, the night sky always twinkling with millions of stars. With all the extra time, you had many opportunities to curl up with a good book without having to worry about another mission.

Since that fateful night in the village, Nanako and Mimiko became attached to your hip. You became the mother figure they’ve always dreamt of. You loved the girls like your own, spending the majority of your time nurturing them from toddlerhood into the beautiful teens they were now. You were living the simple life you envisioned back in your teen years. 

You knew when you left your old life behind that life would be different. Change was inevitable. You just didn’t expect for it to manifest in the man you ran away with.

Suguru took care of you exceptionally well. He made sure you were well fed and gifted you with the prettiest clothes, occasionally leaving small tokens of appreciation for you for embarking on this journey with him. Whatever you heart desired, it was in your hands no sooner than you can think of it. More importantly, no matter how busy he was, he always found time to keep you company. You, as well as the twins, remained his main priority. His beautiful girls.

You watched Suguru slowly become consumed with the idea of jujutsu sorcerers being the superior race. On the outside, he put up an amiable persona in front of normal humans who came to him for guidance in order to collect their curses. On the inside, he loathed their very existence, finding their presence alone to be unbearable and swearing they filled the air surrounding him with a disgusting stench. 

Monkeys, he would call them. You hated the term. 

He had come to you in the kitchen one day with the biggest grin on his face. It was the happiest you’ve ever seen him in your entire time of knowing him. Pouring yourself a glass of water from the faucet, you leaned your back against the edge of the sink in interest.

“The time has finally come!” he proclaimed as he walked up to you, hands behind his head in a relaxed manner.

“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow at him in curiosity. “And what time may that be?”

“My sources tell me that there is an interesting first year student by the name of Okkotsu Yuta at Tokyo High. He is cursed by a special grade spirit by the name of Orimoto Rika,” Suguru goes on to explain.

You felt an unsettling feeling in your stomach, not liking where this conversation was going. You hummed in response and raised the glass to your lips which he took as his cue to go on.

“I plan on retrieving her. The power she holds is the exact thing we need to put an end to every non-sorcerer in existence,” he sighed happily at what he believed was the light at the end of the tunnel.

Frowning, you replied, “...And how exactly do you plan to do that, Sugu?”

“By killing anyone that gets in my way starting with Tokyo Jujutsu High.”

The glass of water immediately slipped from your hands, seconds away from shattering onto the floor if not for Suguru’s incredible reflexes. Placing the still full cup on the counter, he observed the immense shock displayed in your eyes at his declaration. You wished that he was just pulling your leg and that he wasn’t really considering taking on such a risky and incredibly dangerous task. But a man of his word, you knew better than anyone that when Suguru said anything, he truly meant it.

“Geto Suguru,” his name leaving your lips in a slow drawl, “What in the actual fuck are you talking about?”

Leaning against the counter next to you, he crossed his arms and closed his eyes in thought. “It’s simple really. I will unleash the thousands of curses that I’ve meticulously collected over this past decade into the city. Two cities, in fact. While they send their forces to try and save as many pathetic monkeys as they can, I’ll go after the Okkotsu boy. If he decides not to join our side, that’s fine. I’ll just kill him for Rika instead.”

The more you listened to him explain in detail his plan, the more you found yourself looking at a complete stranger. This couldn’t possibly be the kind Suguru that you’ve known throughout your teens and entire twenties. 

Had you really known him at all?

The incredulous look of concern and flash of fear across your face must have been hard to take in because Suguru’s demeanor immediately took on a more serious stance. 

“(y/n),” he started to say your name and reached for your hand. This time, it was his turn to be shocked when you immediately yanked your hand away from his as if his touch burned you. 

“Don’t,” you demand, taking a step away from him as you felt your blood begin to boil. “What the hell, Suguru?”

The man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose at your hostile reaction, “I had a feeling you’d react like this.”

You scoffed at his reply, “Did you honestly expect for me to just be peachy about this idea? You’re talking about murdering millions of people! This isn’t what I agreed to when I decided to go on the run with you.”

“I was very upfront with you about my goals. I don’t know why you’re acting like this is something new,” Suguru argued, not liking the tone of your voice. “You made the big girl decision to come with me. Don’t tell me you’re regretting it now?”

You clenched your jaw at his audacity. “You didn’t give me a choice! I’m not the one who decided to go on a murderous killing spree at seventeen on a mission we were both assigned to,” you retorted in exasperation.

“But I stayed with you because I care about you, Suguru. If I didn’t, why would I leave my entire life behind to be here with you now?” you asked, feeling the anger in your veins shift to deep hurt. “You forget that I sacrificed a lot, too. Excuse me if I don’t agree with every choice you make along the way, especially this one.”

Running his hand through his dark locks, Suguru exhaled deeply. He rarely fought with you and he hated every minute you were anything less than happy with him. He angled his body to face you once more and placed his strong hands on your shoulders. When you didn’t instantly pull away from him, he tugged you closer to him and wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

“I’m sorry. I didn't forget how much you’ve sacrificed to be with me and I’m eternally grateful every day I see your face. I know this situation hasn’t been completely fair for you and I only have myself to blame for that,” he apologized sincerely.

“That being said, I’ve made my final decision. I won’t ask you to fight on the front lines nor do I expect you to do anything you don’t want to. You can stay here without needing to get involved or lift a finger. The decision is yours.”

Back to the present, you couldn’t shake the premonition that something really bad was going to happen. Your anxiety in your heart refused to dissipate with the uncertainty of what's to come looming over you. You hated this. You hated how this is what it all came down to. 

You made it clear to Suguru that you weren’t going to take any innocent lives. However, you refused to sit still and play the waiting game while everyone was out fighting for their lives. Naturally, you set your heart on protecting your girls.

“Nanako, Mimiko,” you said to your phone via video chat, “Are you girls doing okay?”

“Everything is good so far, (y/n)-sama,” Nanako replied back and adjusted her phone so that she and her sister fit into one frame. “Where are you? Geto-sama said you’d be here.”

You responded, “I’m here. Just standing out of sight but still keeping an eye on you.”

Standing atop of some miscellaneous office building, you observed the large curse that housed the twins safely inside its mouth. You focused on manipulating your cursed energy to lower it to extreme minute levels in order to hide your presence, blending it with the large amount of cursed energy permeating in the air. Doing so made it difficult to pinpoint your exact location. 

“How come you aren’t here directly with us?” Mimiko questioned, feeling slightly anxious but relieved to see your face even if it was through a screen.

You paused, taking a few seconds to think before answering carefully, “It’s complicated.”

How do you exactly tell them that the reason you were hiding to begin with was because you were hiding from the man of the hour?

Gojo Satoru.

You would be lying if you said a part of you didn’t long to see him. You did everything in your power to cut all ties with the strongest sorcerer a decade ago, although it hurt more than anything. You didn’t know if you could ever face him again, especially not now considering the circumstances with Suguru’s plot. 

Did he even want to see you?

A pair of sweet voices called out to you and snapped you out of your thoughts. Looking back at your phone, you saw the looks of anticipation on the twins’ faces.

“Sorry, what did you girls say?” you sheepishly asked.

Nanako pouted adorably, repeating their question, “We asked if we could go to that crepe shop on Takeshita Street with you. Geto-sama promised he’d take us last time but it was closed by the time we got there.”

Chuckling, you nodded to their request. “Of course. When this is all over, we’ll take a girls trip together.”

“Promise?” they said in unison, holding their pinkies up to the screen.

You held your own pinky up and lightly tapped it against your phone. “I promise.”

On the other end, you heard Nanako’s notification sound go off. “They said they’re stepping up the plan and telling us to engage,” she informed you.

Biting your lip in apprehension, you sighed. “Please be careful, you two. Do not hesitate to call me immediately if something happens. Do you understand? I'll catch up with you in a few.”

The pair nodded, holding up their pinkies for emphasis promising you of their safety. Just as you were about to hang up the call, their soft voices caught your ears.

“(y/n)-sama?”

“Yes, my loves?” you answered with concern in your eyes watching them fidget nervously.

“I love you.”

You felt your heart squeeze at the declaration, warmth spreading in your chest as you smiled fondly at the two. They looked at you shyly with pink cheeks looking slightly embarrassed after voicing their affection together. When did they grow up so fast from the little five year olds they once were when you first met them?

“I love you, too. Both of you. See you soon,” you reciprocated, blowing a kiss to the camera.

The twins mirrored the gesture before hanging up. Focusing your eyes back to the curse they were inside, its mouth opened to reveal your precious girls. You waved goodbye to them despite them not being able to see you. Just as you were about to trail them, that unsettling feeling increased tenfold in your stomach. Something was wrong. 

Suguru.

You dialed his number on your phone, pressing it to your ear only for the call to go straight to voicemail. This only made your anxiety worse. He never missed a call from you. Wracking your brain on where he could be, his previous words echoed in your mind.

“I’ll go after the Okkotsu boy. If he decides not to join our side, that’s fine. I’ll just kill him for Rika instead.”

Cursing under your breath, your legs began moving on their own.

Run faster.

You repeated the two words in your head like a mantra as you weaved through alleyways and every shortcut you could remember. Your lungs burned with the intensity of it demanding oxygen, but you refused to slow down the pace of your sprint. You were determined to make it back to Tokyo Jujutsu High.

You had to make it to Suguru.

Scanning the black veil that you knew Suguru had casted over the school, you managed to locate a hole that was made by something, or rather someone, else. Slipping through the opening, you finally stepped foot onto the grounds that you once called your home. You hurriedly followed the trails of blood and wreckage of what looked to be the after effects of a lethal fight. 

You nearly collapsed as you felt the ground quake beneath your feet, the force of it catching you off guard. The air felt electrified with the sheer amount of cursed energy surrounding you. It terrified you. Despite your fear, you steeled yourself and ran towards where you felt the cursed energy was strongest. 

Careening around another corner, you were relieved to see the backside of the man you were searching for. However, your relief was short-lived when you looked just beyond his figure down the path to see a young teenage boy. 

There was no mistaking him as Okkotsu Yuta with his special grade curse Rika suspended beside him protectively and looking every bit as deadly as you heard. He was exchanging words with her that you couldn’t hear from where you stood. You saw the way Yuta  intimately held her monstrous frame close to his face. The interaction was so full of tenderness and devotion, the kind that would risk it all in the name of love.

But that’s when you realized what was happening. He was sacrificing himself to Rika to release the limit on her cursed energy.

Hearing Rika passionately declare her love for Yuta, you looked in horror as she began gathering all of her raw cursed energy in full force. Flashes of purple and pink coalesced into one massive deadly black orb, a symbol of Rika’s eternal love for him.

And it was aimed directly at Suguru.

“SUGURU!”

You didn’t even hear yourself scream for him, your voice coming out in terror-stricken screech. It was like your body went into overdrive. In your moment of panic, you didn’t have time to think or feel, only running towards him with your heart beating loudly in your ears. 

For Suguru, it all happened so quickly. 

The moment he heard your voice, he whipped his head to you with eyes widened in alarm. You weren’t supposed to be here. He needed to figure out a way to get you as far away as possible from Rika. 

Time almost stopped for the next few seconds.

There was a flash and a strong hand that shoved Suguru’s body back from where he was positioned. A waft of a familiar perfume. The feeling of soft tresses tickling his cheek. A blinding blue glow. He realized too late that it was you moving at an supersonic speed to stand in front of him, safeguarding him as you channeled all of your cursed energy to brace and harden your body for impact.

Then, Rika charged.

Destruction. Suguru’s curses were no match to the power of Rika’s concentrated cursed energy beam. Her attack left devastation in its wake, buildings blown down to their bare infrastructures, dust and debris clouding the pinkened sky, and a deep crater of the battlefield permanently indented into the ground.

For a moment, all you felt was searing pain enveloping your body. You didn’t even register the way Suguru seized you by the waist, jerking you away as he made a narrow escape with you just a second away from death’s door. Your vision faded to black as you closed your eyes.

When you next opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was the back of Suguru’s head. He was carrying you on his back, your arms around his neck and your body swaying in small jerky motions as he limped down the pathway with growing difficulty.

Good. He had made it, you thought to yourself in ease.

‘Made it’ was an understatement. The man was officially missing his entire right arm, the same arm he used to safely pull you away from Rika. Long black hair haphazardly let down, black yukata torn in half to reveal his bare toned torso, right eye swollen shut. He was lucky to have gotten away with just this. 

He was only this lucky because of you. You had taken Rika’s attack head on. Even with you using your cursed energy as a shield, it wasn’t enough to stop the negative repercussions. Your injuries were severe. The strength of Rika’s blow left a gaping hole in the center of your chest a hair’s away from your heart, feeling sharp pains with every shallow breath you took. You could feel yourself bleeding out onto Suguru’s back, soaking his robe with crimson. Unable to feel any sensations in your legs, you suspected you were paralyzed from the waist down. 

“Suguru,” your raspy voice croaked out.

“You finally opened those eyes, pretty girl. You had me worried for a moment there,” Suguru chuckled quietly.

The two of you fell into a calm silence, only the sounds of Suguru’s footsteps and your ragged breathing to be heard. You wanted to ask him so many questions. Where did Yuta and Rika go? What happens now? No matter how hard you tried to focus on moving your mouth you simply couldn’t, not having the strength to do so. Suguru was the first to break the silence.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said tiredly. His haggard face looked absolutely spent with his voice coming out no louder than a murmur. Only loud enough just for you to hear the regret and guilt in his speech.

You chuckled weakly, “Can you really say you were surprised?”

Suguru sighed in defeat, “I suppose not. Although I would have preferred if you had stayed with our girls. Now look at you.”

“That’s not very ‘Thank you for saving my life’ of you, Sugu,” you huffed, gently pinching his cheek in retaliation causing him to laugh lightly.

You felt your heart swell seeing Suguru smile and banter with you so freely. It reminded you of your earlier days back in high school when it was just you, him, and Satoru.

Satoru.

As you leaned your head on Suguru’s good shoulder, your mind drifted to the snowy haired man. It always did. You often wondered if he had changed much since you last saw him. Was he still that confident man that would give his all for the world? The same man that would have burned the world for you? What would your life be like if you had decided to go back to him that day in Shinjuku? So many questions that you would never have answers for. You knew that when you left Satoru that day, you had left your heart with him too. 

If only you had the chance to tell him you loved him in person.

Feeling something rise in your chest, you were only able to squeeze Suguru’s shoulder in warning before you leaned to the side to vomit blood, the bodily fluid coming out in a viscous consistency. By the time you were done, you felt extremely weak. Your head felt fuzzy and the severe pain in your chest was beginning to subside the more you bled out. 

“I’m dying, Suguru.”

Suguru’s grip on you faltered for a quick second before hoisting you upright on his back once more. He already knew it. He knew you were dying by the faraway look in your eyes and the way you could barely keep them open. You were losing too much blood too quickly. He had exhausted his cursed energy supply on Rika, only having the physical energy to carry you through pure willpower.

“Do you regret running away with me now?” he asks solemnly, slowing his pace down to not rock you too much.

You shook your head, “I don’t. I promised you that I would be there for you until the end.”

“Thank you for keeping your promise,” he expressed genuinely.

When you didn’t say anything else, he turned his head slightly to see you with your eyes closed. He momentarily panicked before he was consoled by the rise and fall of your back that indicated you were still here.

“(y/n)?” he calls, looking straight ahead and walking with no real destination in mind. You hummed in response to let him know you were listening.

“I love you.”

Despite living the last ten years of his life with you, this was the first time he had verbally expressed those three words to you, opting to show his affections for you through actions. But in your dying moments, he needed you to hear just how much he loved you, even if he knew you would never say them back the same way he meant it.

“I know. I always knew,” You smiled guiltily. “I do love you, Suguru. You’re always going to be my best friend. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t reciprocate your feelings no matter how hard I tried.”

Suguru nudged his head against yours in a comforting manner. He whispered, “It’s okay. I still love you regardless.”

Feeling exhaustion settle in your bones, you could barely fight the growing heaviness of your eye lids and a sense of calm lulling your senses. Resting your chin on Suguru’s shoulder, he felt your faint breath fan against his neck.

“Sugu,” the nickname sounding so painfully loving on your lips, “I’m sleepy.”

Suguru couldn’t bring himself to watch you die, staring straight ahead so you wouldn’t see the tears pooling in his eyes.

“Sleep, baby. I got you.”

With that, your eyes closed as you took your last breath, your arms around his neck slipping to fall at his sides.

Trudging down the narrow alleyway, Suguru shifted your frame to his front in order to rest your head against his hard chest. Your body was still warm as Suguru held you tighter against him, albeit a bit awkwardly considering the effects of the battle left him with only one arm. You looked so peaceful. If anyone didn’t know any better, they would have assumed you were just in a deep sleep. Only, you were forever in a dream that you would never wake up from. 

Suguru felt like a failure. Despite his elaborate plan, he was unsuccessful in securing the special grade curse Rika from Okkotsu Yuta. Experiencing her power first hand, she was truly extraordinary. If he had gotten her, there would be no need to sneak around swallowing curses. He would have had the power to change the world like he wanted.

You wouldn’t have had to die for him.

If only he had a little more time. Hearing footsteps approaching him, Suguru smiled at the familiar presence. With great effort, Suguru carefully lowered you and himself against the wall and held you close.

“You’re late, Satoru,” he announced, his words devoid of any real malice. “To think you’d be the one here at my end. Is my family safe?

“Every last one of them managed to escape,” the special grade sorcerer replied in monotone.

Except you. Satoru took in your lifeless form that was brutally beaten and bloodied by what he assumed was the aftermath of Rika. Your hair was longer than when he last saw you in Shinjuku ten years ago. Your delicate hands that used to hold onto his so dearly were now battered. Bruises adorned your face, crimson from your wounds beginning to dry against your skin.  Even after all these years of not seeing you, even in this state, you were still beautiful to him.

“Unlike you, I’m a kind man. You sent those two assuming I’d defeat them, didn’t you? To set Okkotsu off?” Suguru questioned the male, referring to the panda and cursed speech user.

Satoru answered, “I trusted that a man as principled as you wouldn’t kill off young sorcerers without a reason.”

Suguru tiredly smiled at his words. “Trust, huh? I didn’t think I still had any of that left.”

Gaze hardening, Satoru coldly responded, “I also trusted you to keep her safe.”

He knew he was being hypocritical. He spent years trying to seek you out and to bring you home. Once he did, he even considered quitting the sorcerer life to give you the normal life you wanted. Yet you didn’t want to be found and made it incredibly difficult to track you (and naturally Suguru.) The fact you survived this far to begin with was with Suguru’s help, which is more than what he had done. At least Suguru was able to give you some form of happiness. Although he never gave up looking for you, Satoru knew he should have done more to protect you. 

And now he has to live with the fact that he couldn’t bring you back home anymore.

“It was always you, you know that?”

Tearing his eyes away from your lifeless form, Satoru wordlessly looked at his best friend who had a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“All of these years away, there wasn’t a day that she didn’t think about you. No matter how hard I tried to get her to reciprocate my love, to open her heart to me, her heart was always set on you,” Suguru admitted bittersweetly.

Satoru could only stand there stunned at the revelation. If Suguru was telling the truth, had you always loved him the way he loved you? Flashbacks of you played back in his mind like an old movie. 

The way you would tenderly treat his wounds after he went a little too hard after a mission…

“I swear to god, Toru, you better not come back looking like this again,” you sighed, lightly dabbing the soaked cotton ball of antibiotic on the small gash on his forehead.

“You mean looking this good~?” he smirks, flexing his bicep proudly. Only for his bottom lip to jut out into a pout at the way you playfully roll your eyes at him, not exactly denying his words but also not wanting to feed that big ego of his.

Turning around to grab a clean bandage for his wound, he misses the way a light pink hue blooms across your cheeks.

…making him a bento box of his favorite foods after scolding him for skipping meals…

“Oh?” Satoru chirps, “What do we have here?”

He watched you unravel the prettily wrapped package to reveal the lunch you had prepared for him. Based on the smell alone, he knew you had made his favorite. “A little birdie told me you skipped breakfast this morning,” you sighed.

“Did this birdie happen to be a six foot three tall man with a man bun? What a snitch,” he sighed dramatically.

Tsking, you pushed the bento closer to him. “Don’t be mean. Eat before the food gets cold or else the last hour and a half of me cooking would go to waste.”

Didn’t you just come back from a mission this morning? The thought crossed his mind as he considered how tired you must be but still mustered the energy to cook for him. The delusional side of him imagined if this was what it would be like if you were his pretty little wife.

Grinning, he takes a bite of the food and savors the delicious flavor that hits his taste buds. “Thank you, sweets.”

…and leaving little cute messages in his notebooks to read during class.

Hearing his sensei drone on about something related to cursed energy, Satoru leaned back in his chair with his head tilted back in a silent groan. He swore this boring class had a higher chance of killing him than dealing with a special grade curse. Feeling someone kick his shoe from under his desk, Satoru looked over next to him to see Suguru giving him a disapproving look, gesturing with a nod to the sensei to pay attention. Satoru merely stuck his tongue out at him causing his best friend to roll his eyes. To be fair, he was equally as bored but someone had to pay attention to take notes, right?

Leaning on his hand, he aimlessly flicked through the pages of his notebook, the pages mostly bare since he rarely took notes. Satoru’s interest quirked when his eyes landed on an adorable doodle of a kitty cat wearing black round glasses much like the ones he wore. Beside it was a little speech bubble written in your handwriting that said, “You got this, Toru! I’ll always be here to support you ^o^.”

Chuckling, Satoru turned his head to find you sitting a few desks away from him. Unlike him, you were completely engrossed in the lesson and taking notes like the good student you were. You had your hair tucked behind your ear as you gnawed on your lower lip in concentration. All Satoru could think was… ‘pretty.’

Feeling eyes on the back of your head, you scanned your surroundings before making direct eye contact with Satoru. Despite being caught red handed staring at you, Satoru shot you a flirty wink, snickering at the way you gaped at him in shock. He made a gesture of him pretending to be on the verge of falling asleep, feeling his heart palpitate at the way you couldn’t help but giggle at him.

The next class, he found another doodle in his notebook of that same little Gojo kitty along with the words, “All eyes up front instead of me, Mr. Gojo >.<.”

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. How could he have been so blind? 

Or, maybe, he did see all of the signs. Perhaps he chose to actively ignore them because he knew getting involved with you would only put you in danger. He was okay with admiring you from a distance if it meant keeping you safe.

But if he knew things would end up this way, he wished he spent all this time telling you he loved you instead.

“Do you have any last words?” Satoru offered, feeling his heart aching at what was next to come.

Looking to the sky in resignation, a peaceful look graced Suguru’s face. “I never held any hatred for those in Jujutsu High. I just couldn’t wear a heartfelt smile in this world.”

“But she made it worthwhile,” he continued, his voice lowering in remorse as he studied your tranquil face, ingraining every little detail that he loved about you in his mind. “I don’t regret taking her with me. My only regret is not being able to give her the life she deserved.”

Suguru cradled your face in his hand and leaned down to kiss your forehead tenderly, his lips lingering on your skin for the last time. He didn’t react when he heard heavy footsteps draw near.

Satoru brought himself closer to the two people he cherished most in his life. Crouching down so that he was eye level, he reached out to brush the hair away from your lids, wishing so desperately for you to open them so that he could look into those eyes that he first fell in love with. Just as Suguru did, he pressed his lips to your temple, feeling a tear slip from his eye.

Goodbye, my sweet girl. To the only girl I will ever love.

🏷️: @urcutetozier @sad-darksoul @alisoncdariel @paprikaquinn @jjk174 divider credit: @/saradika-graphics

[rememberwren]

Ghoap x Reader. Let's talk aftercare.

I said, how would aftercare work if the scene ends before it begins?

CW: Simon's history of non-con, safewording, not much aftercare for aftercare being my primary focus tbh, established ghoap, fem!reader.

-

Ghost safewords and disappears into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. 

Johnny hasn’t even kneeled up onto the bed yet. You’re still wearing your robe. The scene which the three of you had planned with near religious fanaticism for the last two weeks had barely even begun, and now it has already ended. 

You and Johnny stare at each other with twin expressions of confusion. Johnny, quick and long used to Ghost’s unpredictability, rushes the door. He knocks and then braces his hands against the doorframe, head down. 

“Simon? Can I come in?” he calls through the oak. 

“It’s unlocked,” Ghost says back, scathing. The water faucet has been turned on, muffling his voice a little but not his tone. He’s furious. You can take a guess as to at whom. 

It isn’t his fault, though, you think. You sit on the edge of the bed, toying anxiously with the hem of your robe, any and all arousal having sublimated into thin air with Ghost’s safeword. It’s hard to believe that only a few minutes ago, the three of you had been setting up with excitement, eager to play—or had you? Had there been signs that Simon wasn’t in the right headspace? Should you have been looking more closely? You draw your knees up toward your chest, wrapping your arms around them, feeling hollow. 

“Prefer if you opened the door instead of me,” Johnny says calmly, a pillar of strength, stone strong amongst the uncertain shifting sands. 

The door jerks open. Johnny disappears inside and gives you a sheepish glance before he shuts the door behind him. It’s fine. You can wait out here. The hollow feeling inside your chest seems to grow and swell, throbbing in time with your heart like an angry bruise. You wished you were inside the bathroom too, a part of their duo, more than just a temporary fixture in their bedroom. Should you get dressed? God, should you leave? No—you couldn’t do that, not before making sure that Simon was okay. 

After nearly ten minutes of heated whispers back and forth, the door opens and the two trudge out of the bathroom. Simon can’t meet your eye. 

“Well,” says Johnny, rubbing the back of his own neck. “This has been enlightening. Time for aftercare?” 

“Doesn’t aftercare usually come after something?” Simon asks waspishly. “Didn’t even manage to fucking do anything.” 

“Prepared to do something, didn’t we?” says Johnny, like it is a simple matter. “Can we get you anything? W—”

“You can get the hell out.” 

You slip off the bed. You don’t need to be told twice. You find where your clothes are piled carefully on top of the dresser and slip your underwear on beneath the robe, feeling too raw to just let the slinky, silky fabric fall to your feet and bare you to the room. 

“It’s important, Simon,” Johnny says, calm and resolute. “The way you’re acting tells me you need it.” 

“I need you to stop yapping for once in your goddamn life,” says Ghost, dressing himself with jerky movements on the other side of the room. 

“Then do it for her, aye?” Who? you wonder, looking over your shoulder. There is only you. You glance over your shoulder to see that Simon has stopped dressing himself, top half still bare, eyeing down Johnny like a dog who hasn’t decided yet if he intends to fight or find the threat beneath him. Johnny tips his head toward you. “She needs it too. Can’t you tell?” 

Simon’s brow furrows, mouth dipping into an even deeper scowl. His eyes flicker towards you, but you are determined to show him that whatever Johnny is saying is wrong. He doesn’t need to let you do anything; you’re fine. You hadn’t even been the one to safeword! But whatever he sees on your face has his eyes going a little soft, his mouth a little less harsh. 

“Water, I guess,” he mutters. “‘M thirsty.” 

“I’ll get it,” says Johnny. When he passes you, he lets his hand rest on your shoulder, dragging softly from one shoulder blade to the other. He asks: “Will you stay with him?”

You nod. Johnny isn’t giving you much of a choice. Not for the first time, you resent his meddling, the near-omniscient way he seems to know what everyone needs even when you couldn’t say for yourself  what that is. 

Simon has seated himself on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. With his back turned, you feel fine to drop the robe and tug a shirt on. Carefully toeing your way around the bed, you stand beside him, frowning, unsure what you’re doing here. Why you’re here. Johnny should be here. You should be fetching water like Lassie.

Simon glances up at you, a flash of irritation. He heaves a sigh. “Not angry at you.” 

“I know,” you say. You’re pretty sure that’s true. 

“I’m doing every fuckin’ thing right. Why’s it still going wrong?” he wonders, letting his hands down to hang loosely between his legs. 

You step there, until he has to put his hands on your hips, until he can bury his face in your chest. You stroke reach up tentatively, stroking at his hair the soft, easy way that he likes. You’re no good with words—are just as likely to stutter over the wrong words as you are the right ones. 

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “I just know I’m not finished trying. Not if you aren’t.” 

He huffs a breath against you, turning to place his cheek and ear against your sternum. Your heart must be beating out of your chest, but he doesn’t mention it. Each of his slow, even breaths seems to melt away the icy hollow feeling inside your ribs.

“Thanks for stopping us,” you say, in case Johnny hasn't already. 

He looks up at you, dark, endless sort of eyes. He says: “Thanks for letting me.” 

You scratch his scalp softly, unable to respond. Johnny reappears, waters in hand.

[getodrools]

hii !! i lovveeeee ur works esp how u write toji 🫶🫶🫶

was wondering if you could write toji w a reader that's lowk inexperienced but also kind of a freak !! like she asks for pussy slaps and/or wants to ride him while playing with his nipples >_< maybe even wanting to rub both of their nipples together while making out and riding him and she's just so cockdrunk !! <3333

໒꒰ྀི｡•̀ᴗ-꒱ྀི 🗞️ hellllooo ml ! thankuu sososo much ♡ ! this is honestly so hot and was vv fun to write gosssh ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝)

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 CURSORY | Toji Fushiguro.

warnings. mdni | f! reader | pwp, nipple playy ( ’cause he has massive yams that are hard to ignore ), riding, spanking + pussy spanks sob, he's so meeean n’ big, size difference, cunnilingus, fingering, clit biting, creampie, overstimulation, slight praising and degrading. ( wc. 1.2k+ )

A MEAN SWAT CURDLES at the sweet heat between your legs. Shifting in ache, your thighs tweeze together, only to be quickly pinched at,

“No no. keep em’ nice n’ wide f’me baby,” The man sitting splayed between you flickers a taut grin, “Werent you just begging for this pussy to be disciplined? So keep those fuckin’ legs open.” His grunt doesn't help but add to the tenstisty of his words.

But Toji was right.

Each tingle patting at your – now, puffy, swollen lips made your pussy warm with a slick web, practically drooling a faucet of water when he'd give your bundle of nerves a pinch too. Catching the pearly bud between teeth and latching on, giving a good lap around ‘till your thighs threatened to pop his head right off his shoulders…

Chewing at your bottom lip, “One more… please?—” You whine and he smirks.

Winding his palm back, he releases a harsh whack to your clit. It shoots a throb right up your spine and mushes your brain into frivolity. Just how you scoured for.

Not knowing much to begin with, but this felt damn good! And it surprises him too, watching his pretty girl ache for something he'd think you would try to crawl away from… but watching how your cute hips twitch and turn for more, he can't help but feel his cock stiffen up even harder! Bulbous tip even oozing like a gutted drain.

“Such a naughty girl.” Searching for that cruel intent flicking at your sweetest regions until you puddled beneath him, he finds it. Quickly.

Finding that slick webbing so lewdly between your legs once more and giving the soft flesh a good spank. You twist in his vice, even flashing down big doe eyes but your mouth waters in contrary. That scrutinizing ache glorying over pretty features reminded him one of a puppy too. Eyes innocent and larger – you were damn good at begging for what you wanted, and he'd ease you with a gentle rub, falling right into it; soothing the tight bundle of nerves throbbing at his mean persistence.

Shading into red, you didn't notice how limp you’ve gone either, thinking the numbing only tingled between your legs.

Body trembling above his now – his strong arms latch around your waist to help you steady into his naked lap, “We’ll get back to that– you just look mighty good right now and my dick is hurtin’.” And thick meat prods below you, teasing at the sappy entrance you wind with.

Like a magnet.

“Fuck baby…” His words draw out with a long drawl, watching carefully how his cock sinks into you – watching how you drop down to take him entirely.

Too much though! You still couldn't find space for him no matter how much you tried to shimmy into his lap, pussy still too tight for his might girth! and your chest falls right into his at the hefty packing.

… Oh.

Hard peaks press into each other and it catches you both. His body jolts slightly at the soft tease of your breast gliding across his; hard nipples catching each other in the entanglement.

Toji didn't think his toes would kick into the sheets, but as sensitive as he was, he catches his bottom lip between his teeth.

Beneath your palms are warm but his skin bumps with a trail, “Toji...” Creamy twins with faint blue veins running along them like cooling streams you could just wash your face in throb.

His pecs are strong and large enough to grab a good handful with.

Tempting.

His brow hooks in as your hand begins to glide up, a sneaky thumb covering the area that broke into a pinkish shade.

Toji groans again.

“What're you up to?” He still lets you explore. Not minding how you enjoyed to with his body… you give a breathless giggle, “They're hard like mine…” Was he blushing? “I like when you squeeze mine when mine are hard…” Your thumb swipes across him, watching how the pebbled peaks toing.

“… do you do too?” Your pointer and thumb tweak like wrench, before his gasp could fall to your ears, you catch his mouth with yours, eating up that moan he so rarely spews out. And you knew he was enjoying the sweet taste of nectarous lotion and salt as you played with him. Even feeling his cock throb deep inside of you; your fleshy barrier began to mold to his size, yet still unable to cope with a cock from beyond, you writhed around him, squeezing so tightly like you were trying to milk him from everywhere...

Toji latches firm hands around your two doughy globes, giving your ass a good squeeze before swatting the taut flesh in response.

You eat each other's mutterings.

Bodies slipping together, you let your tits bounce against his — too needy now, letting hard peaks prod every time you rolled your hips to feel more of him poke up inside of you.

But the motions were clumsy. Still needed to work on your knees, but he couldn't care, not one damn bit, it was god damn hot watching you explore like this. A damn freak he might say… the clouding thought wisped at the back of his head, you really were!

Tasting drool that left your lips as your mind was driven to the edge, unable to cope. The Fushiguro adored it.

… This turned him on fast – too fast! Now parts of him tingled and numbed as well…

He adored it so much, his cock pumped hard and then slammed his hips up to catch yours; stiff nth inch cock meat shot straight up into your fluttering warmth with finality, almost worming his way into your womb… you held still, gasping against his mouth as tits sloshed together messily…

Not only did your breast look freezing, but you also froze your movements to swallow up the pulse bulges of thick cum making its way in you.

Toji’s cock swells up almost an inch bigger as he directly splatters rope after rope of steaming, hot cum across your gummy walls… Your body contracted violently in response but also as your own high ripped through you, far stronger than was normal. Assuming all vulnerable parts of you were smothered with his added to the cries of bliss ringing out – all loud and long and clear, and it was all music to him.

Catching your tongue, “You're a little freak, you know that?” His smile was wide and shark-like, bearing his dagger-sharp incisors ‘till you caught your breath...

<– BACK: PINNED ꪆৎ NEXT: MORE TOJI –>

[cottonlemonade]

Strawberry Lotion

words: 546 || avg. reading time: 2 mins.

pairing: aged up Osamu x chubby!Reader (feat. the Inferior Twin (affectionate))

genre: suggestive fluff, established relationship

warnings: mdni, mild suggestiveness

You groaned when you slid the curtain to the side to find a brilliantly sunny day.

Your boyfriend Osamu, still sitting in bed, looked up from his phone with a questioning head tilt.

"It's a dress day. Ugh, I don't wanna shave my legs.", you pouted. Throwing your head back dramatically you shuffled to the bathroom.

Before closing the door, Osamu slipped in as well.

"Uhm.", you started tentatively, "This isn't usually a group activity, babe."

"Yeah I know, but I'm curious how girls shave. I've only had sneak peaks in razor ads, ya know?"

You sighed. "God, you hide it well, but you're an idiot."

Sitting on the corner of his bathtub, with your legs under the faucet you began the tedious process of removing the new stubble.

"Huh. That's a surprisin’ amount of acrobatics."

"It's just annoying cause it's not a 2 minute thing. It takes ages to get the whole leg and your skin gets all irritated and stuff. The only good thing is that my lotion smells like strawberries." (That and the feeling of rubbing your silky legs together like a cricket.)

Osamu perked up, knowing the one you‘re talking about. "Ya got it with ya?", he asked excitedly.

You nodded, resuming your task, feeling a little weird how he was staring at you. This wasn’t exactly the flattering image you wanted him to keep in his mind for a rainy day. When he didn‘t say anything else, you look up to find him with a wide smile of delighted anticipation.

"Guys.", an impatient knock and Atsumu‘s voice came through the door. "Sorry to interrupt, but will ya be done soon? There are other people livin’ here, too, Samu!"

"All done. One second, Tsumu!", you called.

Osamu wiggled his eyebrows suggestively when he passed his brother in the doorway heading back to his bedroom.

You rummaged in your bag for the lotion, taking out the small red tub.

"Can I do it?", Osamu offered, his voice filled with eagerness.

Swallowing a sarcastic reply, you just shrugged and sat back at the foot of the bed. Your boyfriend knelt down in front of you and set your foot on his thigh. Taking a generous dollop of lotion he began to massage your leg, setting kisses on the now smooth skin before covering it in the soothing light pink cream.

"Damn, ya smell so good." He winked and genuinely had to chew his lip to stop himself from parting your legs for him to dive between them, grabbing at your soft tummy. He was actually just about to ask if you wouldn‘t mind taking off your sleeping shorts so he “could get the whole leg“ when -

"What’re ya doin’?", Atsumu asked, confused, standing yet again in the open door, toothbrush hanging in his mouth.

"Makin’ a baby." Osamu deadpanned, not even looking at the blonde and resumed his work with great concentration.

"Wow, that smells real good."

"I know right, it even tastes like strawberry." The grey-haired twin held out the lotion tub and Atsumu stepped closer to sniff it quizzically.

“Really?“

“Sam-“

Your boyfriend gave your thigh a quick squeeze and winked as he watched with barely suppressed glee how his brother dipped a finger into the tub with the very non-edible lotion.

[stsgooo]

Love, Hate, Love.

✩࿐ summary: shoko reminisces.

warning(s): death, description of gore, angst, hurt no comfort, depression, bit of a character study(?), sad yuri. wc; 3.2k

pairing(s): ieiri shoko/fem!gojo!reader.

a/n: this is kinda messy, but i love shoko and wanted to write something for her so :3 excuse anything that just

SHOKO STARED DOWN AT THE BODY OF ITADORI YUJI AND SHE FELT AN ARRAY OF EMOTIONS.

Disdain. Anger. Frustration. Confusion. Exhaustion. Slight, slight sadness. Emptiness.

She didn’t know Itadori Yuji well. She had only met him for a few minutes when he was passed out and thrown onto one of the many medical bay beds by Gojo. Had patched up the rather small cuts and bruises, listened as the tall teacher described the King of Curses. Then sent him on his way.

Shoko hadn’t seen Itadori again until he was a corpse on her table.

It wasn’t that Shoko was sadden by this strange boy’s loss. Not entirely. She had no attachments or thoughts on the boy. Even when he had gotten everyone talking.

No, it was more about what Itadori Yuji represented in that moment.

Death was a common thing to happen within their world. Every day it was something new. Whether it be non-sorcerer, sorcerer, or a random animal, there was death to be following. Random at most, but there were few instances where it was intentional. Where the grapevine of gossip lead to something catastrophic. That it lead to the death of a young sorcerer with great potential.

Itadori hadn’t been the first to die. And he certainly wasn’t the last.

No. No, Shoko could recall her first vividly.

First, it had been Yomada Han in their first year. A third year that had been the last of his class. He’d run into a trouble, died messily. It’d been the first time she dissected a body. The first time she threw up over it too. It’d been the first time she had a cigarette too.

He’d been sent off to slaughter because of his hand in some clan mess. They thought it was justification enough for his murder death.

Dissecting and seeing death got a little easier from then. Shoko didn’t throw up anymore. She didn’t get angry or question why someone was on her slab. It was just what happened. She came to accept it.

The second had been… well, Gojo Y/N.

Shoko was still unclear on what exactly happened that day. She can just recall the dread and sickness that flushed over her when she saw her sprawled out on the cot. The way Gojo’s voice shook and pleaded with her— desperately trying to appease to Shoko’s good side as if she hadn’t wanted to save her. As if that’s the only thing Shoko wanted to do.

She’d seen a lot by then. Geto’s chest wide open, the insides of various students and curses, bloody limbs. But she had never seen something quite like that.

It was so surreal to have been speaking to someone a day before, smiling and laughing, sharing touches and secrets. Then have half of their brains scattered on your table the next.

Still and silent. The entire time she had been still and silent.

It was all so sickening.

Shoko hadn’t even been able to take a step towards her before she was throwing up the food she’d consumed in the last 24 hours. Tears flushing down her cheeks and bile rising in her throat. Brains trailed into the room and blood dripped from the end of the table onto the ground like a leaky faucet.

She was sick. She was sick. Shoko couldn’t stop being sick.

Then, she hadn’t been sure what to do as the white haired boy pleaded and cried. As his twin remained limp in his hold. Shoko had just watched with trembling lips, shaking hands pressed against her mouth.

She was dead before she was even found.

Shoko had concluded such during the autopsy. As she pushed tears away behind her protective goggles, cutting into her… her….(what? Her friend? Her friend.) As she cut into her friend’s bones and body. Gojo Y/N had been dead the moment the curse made contact and dealt the blow. The moment her skull cracked open and her brain turned to mush, she was gone.

At least, that’s what she reassured Gojo and Geto (and herself) with.

"They said it was a Grade Two," Gojo had said in a whisper, slumped in his seat, eyes uncharacteristically vacant as he stared at the ground. A hollowness that embraced them all was evident and clear. "They sent her with Nanami and Haibara because it was a Grade Two. So why are they both dead? Why is my sister dead? Why was it a fucking Local Deity? It was a Special Grade!"

Gojo had broken down then. A mess of rage full tears as he uttered on about how it was a mistake. One that costed his other half, since birth, to die. It was surreal to see the Strongest reduced to this. A bumbling mess. While he tried to piece together the puzzle of death. As he questioned the justification behind his sister’s death.

Shoko had wished she was afforded the same.

"Satoru," Geto had whispered, oddly blank and hollow himself. As he always had been back then. For a year he’d been a husk of who he once was. Body always tense, always frail and alert. Tired and withering. "You know how she is… was. She would’ve tried saving Haibara no matter the grade."

Haibara had been the third.

He held out longer than her. Given that she’d jumped in front of the curse to save him. Still, he’d been split in half. Nanami only retrieving his upper half with a pale face and hollow eyes. Still, he died.

What was the point of her dying if the one she saved died too?

Shoko wasn’t sure

And neither was Gojo.

"Yeah, and now there two dead sorcerers!" Gojo had shot from his chair. Fast enough that it bounced off the wall and made a horrible sound throughout the empty hallway. Shoko could recall the way she flinched back the moment she felt Gojo's technique fire up. A barrier between him and the people he cared about. An unrelenting and unchecked power that kept his rage contained. "W-Who even cares about Haibara—?"

"Satoru." Geto's tone had darkened considerably. His face shadowed under the flickering fluorescent lights. Any other time Shoko would've ran away. She would've made some comment about them being annoying trash, then stalk off with her in her shadow.

Not now. Not ever again.

Gojo's face crumbled, he grew desperate at Geto's call, "I... Why does it have to be her?" His eyes split to Shoko, narrowed and angry. "I thought you could do something."

Shoko, taken aback, had tensed. "Half of her brain—"

"You love her, right?" Gojo had continued, ruthlessly, "Right?"

A nod.

"Then you should've saved her!"

"Satoru!" Geto's hand wrapped around Gojo's arm, pulling him away. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"I'm wrong?"

"Yes!"

"What the fuck do you know, Suguru?"

"What do I know? I know that you're..."

Their voices had faded away as Shoko stared endlessly at Gojo's previous spot. A well of tears collecting in her eyes as her hands buried deep within her pockets, clenched and shaking. Her technique was great, it was amazing. She'd done a lot even before she was 18.

So why couldn't she save her?

It stuck around with her for a long time. Well after Gojo had stomped off with tears flowing down his face. Well after Geto had conjured up the last bits of his fake kindness and apologized, tried to comfort Shoko. Well after she was alone in her dorm, holding onto the pieces of her that were suddenly all Shoko had left.

Death was sudden. It was the last curtain call. In their line of work, there was usually no time for goodbyes or last words. Much like this situation. It was inevitable and everyone would meet their making sooner or later— it was only a matter of when. It was better to accept you wouldn't get nice little bows in at the end of your life instead of constantly thinking about it.

Still, Shoko had wondered if there was a possibility she could've saved her. Wondered what she would've said in her last moments if she had the chance to say goodbye.

It was a bad downward spiral to commit herself to. Especially when she was alone in the dark, laying in her bed, staring endlessly at the ceiling above.

It was flat-out dangerous to wonder when she was wrist deep in her chest cavity.

Shoko was best for it. Allegedly. She was the best bet to tell them all exactly what happened to her technique and body as she died.

Originally, Shoko had been tempted to just write that Gojo Y/N lost her brain. What else was there to report? What else could her family possibly want to know?

But then bitter curiosity got the best of her. She needed to know everything. She didn't even care about what the Gojo's wanted to know. Shoko herself had to know if her soul— if the technique just... vanished.

She wasn't really sure what she expected when she stood over her in the morgue. How she would possibly cut her open and scoop out her organs as if she hadn't been speaking to her two days ago. Had been engaged in conversations. Blushing when their hands brushed against one another. As if she hadn't—

"Shoko, what do you want while we're gone?" She had stopped by before they were to be sent off, lightly sprinkled white H/C hair. Expression light, but serious, as it usually was. "Treats, shirt, another body for you to pick around in? Ew, by the way."

Usually, a girl wouldn't think anything of it. But Shoko, elbow deep within a curse, blushed like she was an elementary girl. "Sorry"

She leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, smile small yet tender, "So? What does sweet, sweet Shoko-chan want as a souvenir?"

Shoko always had a hard time believing Y/N was a Gojo. Especially the same product line of Gojo Satoru, who was just... the opposite of her. This girl was intelligent and kind, beautiful and timid. Self-aware, selfless, and She wasn't anything like the boy she shared the womb with, or birthday, or name. A twin. Same blood, same name, everything them. But so distinctly different.

"I'm not really interested in anything." Shoko had replied with a tilt of her lips and a shrug of her shoulders, pulling away from the curse corpse to face her fully.

Y/N's eyebrows raised, "Really? You're not interested in a single thing?"

"Not really," She walked closer, "What did the others get?"

"Oh, uh, I'm not entirely sure—"

"Gojo-senpai!" Haibara had barreled around the corner, loud and grinning, his hair flopping as he bounced around. "Geto-senpai would like something sweet for himself and your brother!"

She had released a bitter sound, fond and amused, but bitter all the same, "Of course he'd be thinking about Satoru." She turned back to Shoko with a small tilt of her lips. "You sure you don't want anything, Shoko?"

Shoko wondered if things would be different if she said anything else than what she had. If she asked for some ridiculous sweet or a stupid shirt, would things have ended differently? If she kept her around for a little longer, would someone realize the misclassification of the curse? Could Shoko have done something?

Who knows. All she said was, "Just come back. That's enough for me."

Her face had scrunched up, a light laugh leaving her as she turned, waving a hand, "Just for you, Shoko! See you around."

It wasn't anything special. Her goodbye had been a teasing promise. A nonchalant wave. Nothing special. Another day. It wasn't anything special.

So why did it have to be the last?

The autopsy ended abruptly. As Shoko held onto a trash bin, sobbing and throwing up the little food she had in the past two days, Yaga put it in the hands of someone much older. Much more detatched.

Gojo Y/N had died almost instantly. Before she could even activate her technique.

That sparked up a chatter at her funeral.

If the affair wasn't sickening and horribly in the first place, the conversation that took place most certainly was.

The people that attended outside of Shoko and Geto where just some old clan members either from the "Big Three" or some lowly ones. They all kind of just loitered around as they ate food and conversated. Nothing exciting, nothing entirely too telling of their grief either.

She couldn't ever recall Gojo or Y/N talking much about the other clans. If only to drag them through the mud, express their great distaste, or general displeasure. Shoko just knew that an occasion like this, filled with old people and terribly traditional things, was something that the girl nor her brother wanted. She knew that they all like the Gojo's about as much as the Gojo's liked them. Which was not very much.

It was only as Shoko was using the bathroom that she overheard what they truly thought.

"I heard that she didn't even have the time to activate her technique before it killed her."

"It's not like her technique would've done much against a Special Grade anyway. The Six Eyes got all the potential. If anything, that boy that got killed alongside her had more skill."

"I thought she had some type of power?"

"That's just a lie the family put out to calm their egos. They gave birth to the Six Eyes while giving birth to a useless girl right after."

"Poor thing."

"I wouldn't worry. The girl was a bit airheaded, she probably didn't even know she was boring."

It took everything in Shoko not to snap. To not ruin their gossip with her petulant cries of anger. It was just wrong. What they thought of her. There's never been something so wrong.

Y/n was different and amazing, magnificent and interesting. She was strong in ways that Gojo wasn't. She could hold her own. She was intelligent on things outside of jujutsu just as much as she was in things regarding jujutsu. Shoko wasn't sure where they got their information but it was wrong. It'd always been wrong.

Seven days later, Geto killed an entire village.

Thought about her and Haibara the whole time. The mountain of bodies that came with being a sorcerer. Killed 112 people just because he was angry and sad. At least, that's what Geto had said to her.

Shoko wished she could've destroy a whole village in her grief.

Those are all the things Shoko thought as she slips on her gloves, glancing back at where Gojo and Ijichi were standing in the corner.

"Hey, you guys, I'm gonna get started," Shoko says flatly, with her usual detachment. It'd been years since she felt uncomfortable or disgusted with this job. Just a normal routine now. "You gonna just sit there and watch?"

She snaps her glove into place at the same time Ijichi's face visibly pales and his jaw drops, Gojo's own face screwing up into something akin to shock. She was about to ask what was wrong, but—

"Whoa! Full frontal!"

Shoko whirls around to look at Itadori Yuji who looks, shockingly, fine.

Well, Shoko's never had someone come back to life in her morgue before. (No matter how much she's begged.)

She tugs down her mask, staring at the boy with disappointment, "Well, this is too bad."

Itadori blinks, a faint blush on his cheeks, "Um... who are you?"

"Yuji!" Gojo stands, a beaming grin on his lips as he walks forward, hand extended. "Welcome back!"

The teen lets out a loud laugh, clapping his hand against his teacher's for a loud slap that almost makes Shoko wince.

"I'm back!" Itadori cheers, smiling back.

"You sure are!" Gojo then tucks his hands into his jacket, turning around to face Shoko and Ijichi. "Hey, can I speak to you outside for a minute? Ijichi, get Yuji something to change into."

"O-Of course, Gojo-san!"

Shoko doesn't even dignify Gojo a response, lazily making her way out of the room with bored eyes. There went an afternoon of digging through Sukuna's vessel's organs and finding out what made him so different from the others. What allowed him to inhabit the King of Curses while so many others had died trying. It would make for perfect research. Fun and interesting.

But the kid just had to wake up. From death.

(She tired to ignore how many times she'd imagined her waking up on her table too.)

"Ugh, now I have to go back and change the report." Shoko utters bitterly once the two adults are outside.

"No, leave it as is." Shoko snaps her eyes to Gojo, who keeps his carefree smile on his face. "Before he's targeted again, I'd like to at least give Yuji some basic training. Please leave him listed as deceased in the report."

Shoko frowns, tucking her hands into her pockets, "Then Yuji will have to go into hiding for good."

"Nah, I'll have him ready in time for the Goodwill Event."

The Goodwill Event. Now, that was something she wasn't entirely concerned with. Something she didn't think Gojo was either.

"Why?" Shoko utters.

"Easy. I refuse to keep that kid from losing the best years of his life. Not just him, but everyone."

The way he says it is tender and true. Said with his heart and his soul. Despite how childish Gojo has always been, he's been terribly aware of when kids should be kids. Something he'd been keenly aware of when he was a kid himself.

Gojo suddenly tilts his head, smile distant and incredibly sad, "Not to mention... he kind of reminds me of Y/N, y'know?"

Shoko's steps falter. They've never really engaged in a conversation about her before. Never really a chance or reason to. Shoko figured they always had their own thoughts and opinions about what happened. Their own grief pushed down to be ignored. Never addressed.

But he—

"Bit of an airhead, but he means well. Smart when it calls for it. Wants to do the right thing no matter if it's his life on the line." Gojo stops a few feet ahead of Shoko, back stiff and, unfortunately, unreadable to her. "I wonder what she'd think of all this."

Shoko draws in a breath, inching closer to lean on the railing overlooking the courtyard. "She'd be disgusted to learn you're a teacher."

"Disgusted?" Gojo repeats with a pout. Shoko just knows that his eyes are narrowed behind his blindfold. "And she wouldn't judge you for cheating your way through med school?"

"She would, but I wouldn't care." Shoko rolls her eyes.

Gojo presses his lips together, leaning on the railing next to her, "I don't think I would either... as long as she was here."

Shoko tenses and her eyes grow distant as she watches leaves twirl and fall in the distance. Her ears begin to ring and she thinks, for one single moment, that Gojo is right. If she just had her right next to her. Breathing, talking— living. Then Shoko might be one of the happiest people alive. She wouldn't care about any of this. She wouldn't worry about anyone leaving or dying. She would just—

What was the point of think about something not possible?

11 years. They needed to let go already.

"I'll make sure Itadori is, in all the official ways, dead." Shoko pushes away from the railing and begins to make her way back to her office (ignoring the soft snort Gojo gave). "Make sure he doesn't die again before you can train him."

"I'll do my absolute best."

11 years. What's a few more minutes with her memory.

[iwantedtoforgetyou]

A VARIETY OF IMAGINES

How the Gryffindor boys would react if you offer your help during difficult situations.

HARRY POTTER

Harry had maintained a quiet demeanor over the past couple of days. He exited the main room early and walked through the hallways with a downcast gaze.

Everyone seemed unaware, except for you.

On one evening, as you both made your way back to the Gryffindor dorms, Harry suddenly dropped to his knees.

Without hesitation, you were by his side, urgently asking, "Are you alright, Harry?" in a worried tone.

His head hung low, and he remained still except for his eyes, which darted back and forth.

Instinctively, you gently held his face with your hands, bringing your forehead to his. In that position, the two of you stayed pressed together for a while.

Gradually, your breaths synchronized, and his head began to move.

Summoning a smile, you delicately ran your fingers through his hair, drawing him closer.

He spoke only a few words for the remainder of the night, his voice so soft it was barely audible. "Thank you."

RON WEASLEY

Ron's stress-eating habits were hard to miss. His bed was a sea of wrappers, half-eaten candies, and scattered boxes, some of which had even found their way to the floor. With the owls less than a week away, the pressure was clearly taking its toll on him.

You cautiously pushed open the door to his dorm room, spotting him sprawled across his bed. His head faced the entrance, and his legs were propped up against the wall. A book rested on his face.

Stepping quietly, you moved further into the room, stopping just at the foot of his bed. It was evident he wasn't sleeping; the absence of snoring gave it away. Something was amiss.

Gently lifting the book from his face, you revealed flushed cheeks and reddened eyes. He had been crying.

Your expression faltered, and Ron hastily began offering explanations. "I've just been yawning, this material can be really exhausting, you know?!"

Rolling your eyes, you uttered his name, prompting him to gaze directly up at you.

"It's alright to feel worried," you whispered, leaning down and hovering over his face. "You'll excel, I'm sure."

Tenderly, you placed your lips on his, and in that moment, everything else faded away.

As you pulled back, Ron shot upright, grabbing textbooks and spreading them out. "I've got this!"

A smile tugged at your lips. "Yes, you absolutely do."

FRED WEASLEY

The first party of the year was a disaster. Shouts echoed through the air, discarded drinks cluttered the surroundings, and the crowd seemed to grow uncontrollably.

True to their nature, the Weasley twins had orchestrated something, and as expected, it had spiraled out of control. Amidst the chaos, George was conspicuously absent, while Fred sat before you with a split upper lip and emerging bruises on his cheeks.

You kept a watchful eye on him as you dampened a paper towel under the faucet, afraid he might bolt. Yet, he remained still, not even lifting his gaze.

Shutting off the water, you walked over to his side, clutching the wet paper towel in your hands.

"Look at me," you murmured, your fingers grazing just beneath his chin. "Please."

Reluctantly, he lifted his head, but his eyes avoided meeting yours.

In the quietness, you meticulously tended to his injuries, though he let out occasional groans of discomfort.

"It wasn't your fault," you interjected, shattering the silence. "Fred?"

His eyes shut, and you could swear you saw them glisten with tears.

Your heart clenched.

Setting aside the paper towel, you tenderly guided him closer, enfolding him in your arms and pressing him against your chest.

Almost instinctively, his arms wound around your back, and he buried his face in your embrace, tears soaking into your clothing.

For what seemed like an eternity, you held him there, both of you unmoving.

“I'm sorry," his voice quivered against your chest. "I'm so sorry."

GEORGE WEASLEY

George, though usually reserved in his emotional expression, held his pain within him.

He'd rather endure a bitten lip until it bled than reveal his feelings. However, his demeanor shifted entirely when he was with you. 

After your two-hour class, you returned to the Gryffindor dorms with treats from the commons. Upon entering your room, you were taken aback to find George lying on your bed.

While his presence in your room was a common occurrence, him skipping class was not. You approached the bed and set the bag of sweets on the bedside table.

It didn't take long to notice his tear-streaked face and reddened eyes. Without hesitation, you climbed into bed, cradling his head in your lap.

Neither of you spoke; instead, you shared a moment of silence as your fingers softly traced through his hair.

Eventually, he must have drifted off to sleep, as he became still. Just before you closed your own eyes, he whispered, "You're the best thing that has ever happened to me, Y/N."

A smile graced your lips, and that smile accompanied you through your slumber.

OLVER WOOD

Gryffindor's first match of the season ended in defeat, leading the entire school to turn against them.

Exiting the locker room, the team scattered down the hallway while you waited, overhearing the comments from others.

Amidst this, Oliver was absent.

Upon asking a passing teammate about his whereabouts, they nodded toward the locker room.

Acting on impulse, you opened the door and entered the locker room.

The atmosphere inside was both warm and quiet.

After wandering a bit, you discovered Oliver seated by himself on a bench, his head buried in his hands, still clad in his quidditch uniform.

Approaching cautiously, you knelt in front of him.

Despite his hands still covering his face, you gently took hold of his wrists. "Oliver," you spoke, coaxing his arms away from his face, "you performed admirably out there."

He glanced up briefly, offering a sorrowful smile. "Thank you," he replied.

You responded with a hum, soothingly rubbing your thumb across his arms. "Let's leave this place," you suggested, getting to your feet while still holding onto his arms. With a sigh, he rose as well and met your gaze. "I'd appreciate that," he said, a smile gracing his lips.

NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM

The greenhouse served as Neville's personal sanctuary.

Hours upon hours were spent there, immersed in plant-related activities that he had come to cherish and defend over time.

Besides you, he never shared the secret of the greenhouse with anyone.

One evening, when Neville was absent from the common room, you embarked on a search for him. Arriving at the greenhouse, you discovered the door slightly ajar and faint, muffled cries emanating from within.

Gently pushing the door open, you slipped inside and observed Neville, huddled over a garden pot, tears flowing silently.

Quietly approaching him, you stood by his side and placed your hand on his back, a gesture that seemed to intensify his tears.

Speaking softly, you asked, "What's wrong?" as you observed his tears dropping into the pot.

He took a deep breath and admitted, "I don't know," clutching his chest.

Tilting your head slightly, you covered his other hand with yours. "Just breathe," you whispered, resting your forehead on his shoulder.

“You're alright." Gradually, his breathing began to steady, and he shifted beneath your touch.

In a sudden and unanticipated move, he embraced you tightly. With genuine gratitude, he murmured, "Thank you... Thank you."

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Blurbs: Yogurt

————————————————————————-

Summary: You leave Joe unattended for five minutes, and he thinks that your newly mixed homemade lotion is yogurt…

(Part One to - Part 2)

Warnings: Fluff

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine Universe: Into The Mystic

————————————————————————-

*30 weeks pregnant*

Joe and I were at the beginning of getting ready for date night.

It was a pretty chill day at the house so far, we all slept in, had breakfast, and spent the day chilling on the couch.

Joe even tried to teach the twins how to play Super Smash Bros, but I intervened and shut that down pretty quickly.

Now, Joe and I were upstairs in our bathroom getting ready.

I just ironed Joe’s clothes, which I also picked out, and sent him to the bedroom to change while I used the bathroom.

In all honesty, I wasn't using the bathroom, I was setting up a prank.

After posting a couple of my pranks that I've done on Joe on TikTok as a Christmas present to his fangirls, a couple of the other WAGs have sent me ideas to try on him.

Tianna, Cody Ford’s GF, sent me this idea where the girl leaves an unmarked jar of seemingly yogurt out on the counter with a spoon inside of it, her boyfriend thinks it is yogurt and eats it.

Joe has always been one to steal a bite of my food when I wasn't watching, so I knew he'd take the bait.

After I was finished setting up the prank, I called Joe into the bathroom to see his outfit.

“Watcha think?” - Joe

“You look amazing. It's screaming dilf.” - you

“Yeah?” - Joe smirked

He reached out and grazed his fingertips over my bare bump.

It was a date night tradition for me to put my outfit on last. It would be revealed to Joe as he stood at the door, and I walked down the stairs to him.

So for now, I'd wear my undergarments and a robe, or when I'm pregnant, I'd opt for one of Joe’s t-shirts.

“Wait I need to go put some juice pouches in the fridge for the boys’ dinner later.” - you

My phone was already set up discretely in our heated towel rack, so when I left the room I hit the record button on my Apple Watch.

I actually did go downstairs and put juice pouches in the fridge like I said I would and came back upstairs to hear any reaction from Joe.

Just as I am striding into the bathroom, I hear a gagging sound.

Joe was under the faucet, frantically rinsing his mouth out.

“What happened?!” - you

He leaned up and wiped his mouth off with the towel above the toilet, giving me a stank face as he pointed to the jar of lotion.

“Whatever that is, is fucking disgusting.” - Joe

There was so much sassiness behind his tone that I couldn't help but bust out laughing.

“Probably because it's lotion, Joe.” - you

“Lotion?! I thought it was yogurt. It literally has a spoon in it!” - Joe

“That's because I just mixed it up.” - you

That's a lie, I squeezed it out of a bottle into a jar. 

“This is another prank, isn't it? Where's your phone at?!” - Joe

I pointed to the towel rack and Joe slowly rolled his head toward it.

When he saw it, his shoulders dropped defeatedly, and Joe let out a big sigh.

“I got you back.” - you singsonged

I poked him in the stomach repeatedly, and Joe didn't even move just shifted his eyes from the camera to me as he playfully glared.

“Bruh.” - Joe

Giggling as I hugged Joe against me, he patted my back dismissively. He was annoyed but wouldn't ignore my touch.

“You’re lucky I love you.” - Joe

“I know.” - you laughed

Joe ended up laughing with me before pressing a kiss on my forehead.

“Yay. More footage of me getting pranked my teammates are gonna shove in my face.” - Joe

“It’s okay, Joe, I'm sending their girls ideas to prank them too.” - you giggled

“That's my girl.” - Joe kissed your forehead again

————————————————————————-

Authors note: the last blurb of the night!

Requests for this fic;

Hope you enjoyed! 💕

[elvisabutler]

primal

fandom: elvis 2022 | elvis presley rating: m pairing: elvis presley ( big daddy flavor ) x female reader word count: 2650 warnings: p in v sex ( unprotected ). very brief implied breastfeeding kink. breeding kink. pregnancy kink. housewife kink-ish. masturbation ( male ). masturbating while someone is asleep while next to them. mention of ovulation? i am unsure if i have much more to warn for. author’s note: welcome to day 9 of ally’s wet hot smut summer, breeding kink with big daddy elvis presley x reader. this also has like a smattering of housewife kink but it's kind of blink and you miss it. but i had fun writing this and honestly it flowed out of me but we all know that's what happens with breeding kink fics. consider the timeframe like 76/77? and apologies that i'm behind on this smut summer. this summer's just been a hot mess.

It started out innocent enough, with you playing with one of the boy's kids. Elvis can't remember whose if he's being honest with himself but it was his first glimpse as you as a mother beyond the times had been with Lisa. There was something different about this time, maybe it's how young the yittle baby was or maybe it's how you cuddled them close or how when you gave them back to their mama that your hand grazed your stomach in the most subtle of ways. The two of you had offhandedly talked about having children but never anything concrete beyond whispers of how he wanted to give Lisa a sibling and how you wanted a baby to call your own.



That night as you lay sleeping next to him, worn out from the day he can't help the way his mind wanders and thinks about the possibility of you pregnant with his child. Your hips were just the right size to hold a baby even as they'd expand outward just that little bit. His vision has you swollen with twins, he thinks, your belly swollen under a dress that stretches against your skin. There'd be no doubt who you belonged to and who put those big strong children inside of you. He can feel his cock starting to rise to the occasion, feel his foreskin retracting just that little bit as his cock swells. You'd be a good mother, taking care of the yittle ones and traveling with him with them. Your breasts would fill with milk he could suckle from before they were born and even after when they'd have their fill. He can't help the way his mind wanders and paints that picture of you pregnant that has his cock pressing against the underside of his stomach. His precum's already leaking damn near like a faucet and he needs relief in the form of his hand at the very least. With a hiss he pulls back his foreskin and takes himself in hand. The vision his mind gives him is one he thinks he might want to make a reality. You deserve to be a mother, deserve to be the mother of his little ones.



It doesn't take him long, stroking his cock and playing with the tip of it for him to start breathing heavy. He knows he needs to be quiet, knows you're a lighter sleeper than he ever has been but he can't help it. He can't help how much this is effecting him. This sort of desire has never been inside him, he's never craved having someone pregnant with his child and yet here he was with his cock in hand at the mere idea of you swollen with them. You're already a good enough housewife— not that he ever forced you to do it— but if you were pregnant you'd be the quintessential barefoot and pregnant wife. You'd be at home here in Graceland, belly rounded out helping Mary cook dinner. Or maybe you'd be at the International or on tour with him, craving him as much as he'd crave you like this, bouncing on his cock as best you could. A groan leaves his mouth unbidden and he moves the hand not on his cock to his mouth to stifle the noises he can't hold back and allows his mind to go through the possibilities. If he looks at your stomach right now hard enough he swears he can see the swell and without even trying to stop himself the hand that he had been biting down on goes to your stomach and rubs against it, picturing a time next year where his child would kick at his hand and you'd glare at him for waking them up only to tell him to rub your aching feet.



You shift in your sleep and Elvis takes his hand away like he's been burned even as he feels his orgasm hit him not unlike a freight train, forcing him to bite his lip as his release covers his hand and his legs. His post orgasm exhaustion starts to pull him into the warm embrace of sleep but he fights it just long enough to heave himself out of bed and to clean himself up. He wasted the come tonight but perhaps tomorrow night he can tell you what he wants. Yeah, he'll tell you what he wants then.

Life is busy when you're Elvis Presley though and he has to push the idea of telling you back another week before he even gets a spare moment with you awake with him to be able to even touch you. He's not much for planning, but he thought bringing this up to you would go better if he did plan for it. If he took you out to dinner and wined and dined you like you weren't together already then telling you how he wanted to stuff that yittle cunt of yours so full of his cum that there was no way you wouldn't be pregnant would bring you as much pleasure as it does him. That was the plan- that dinner and a night to remember was the plan but that plan was squashed by the Colonel and some last minute meeting that had you waiting for Elvis for hours until he finally came upstairs long after your dress and heels were abandoned for your far more comfortable robe.



If you're being honest, you're pouting a bit with your face in a book with the lamp on your nightstand on. Elvis takes one look at you and knows very well he's cocked this all up. Had every intention of making you happy with him and making you see the vision he had for making you a mama and now he's wondering if he's even gonna get to touch you tonight. Any other night and he might poke the bear, might needle you just a little to get you to eventually smile but not tonight, not with how angry you look with your straight shoulders and pursed lips. Tonight calls for him being quiet and biting his tongue as he strips himself down to nothing except his own robe and climbs into bed next to you. It's almost without thinking that you hand him a pair of reading glasses, assuming that with the presence of the robe and the lack of talking that he's going to just sit next to you and read passages from whichever text he's decided to be engrossed in for the past two days. He takes them from you but doesn't bother to pick up his book. Instead he places the glasses on his own nightstand and moves to stroke your arm, his calloused fingers brushing practically feather light against your arm. A shiver passes through your body and you can almost feel him smirking.



"What are you doing?" You ask with a heavy sigh as you turn to look at him, your frustration lessening the more he touches your arm, the heat of him passing through the fabric easily setting your body ablaze.



"Touchin' my wife," Elvis answers as his hand moves off your arm and to your chest, taking special care to enjoy the soft skin your breasts before cupping them. A gasp leaves your lips. "Tender?"



His mind flashes to a vision of your breasts larger in his hand and tender for another reason even as you answer. "You know they're tender around this time."



This time of the month, not your period, no, he'd remember that, you never wear this robe during that time. No, this time of the month is when you're ovulating, when you can get pregnant the easiest. The time of the month where he could breed you and it could actually take. His breaths quicken and deepen all at once as he accidentally squeezes your breast earning a hiss from you.



"Sorry darlin'. Bit— forgot it was that time. Didn't realize it was. Felt like it snuck up on us, didn't it?"



You narrow your eyes for a moment in confusion before you shrug, licking your lips. "It did. Kind of like that meeting did, hm?"



Elvis rubs at his mouth, squeezing his double chin just a hair before he nods. "Trust me, didn't want that meetin' any more than you did. Had plans for us tonight. Nice dinner, nicer dessert, maybe a perfect midnight snack."



The only answer you manage is a hum before you frown. "Well, we didn't get any of that, did we?"



Elvis's hands move to make it so you turn fully to him as he shifts in the bed to fully turn to you. "Aw hell, don't be like that. I'm sorry. I mean it. I wanted to take my wife out to dinner, tell her how good of a wife she is to me. How she keeps this house and any house we're at in order and how I couldn't ask for a better housewife." He pauses and watches as you look like you're tearing up before cupping your cheek. "And I wanted to ask if ya— if ya thought 'bout havin' a baby."



His cock and his leg twitches at the idea as he says it and he knows from how your gaze moves downward that you've noticed at least the leg twitch. Your gaze slowly moves back up to his face, taking in the rise and fall of his hairy chest, the rise and fall of his stomach and you swallow. "Right now?"



Because asking if he's asking if you're willing to get pregnant right now feels as if you might be overstepping. You can't help the way the idea has you clenching your thighs and has your arousal slowly starting to work its way through you.



A pleased sort of growl rumbles through Elvis's chest as he takes in your clenched thighs. "Right now. Or nine months from now. Been thinkin' 'bout how pretty you'd look pregnant. Wanna see how—"



"You already tell me I'm pretty every day. You already think about how pretty I am." You murmur a little shakily as Elvis starts to move closer to you, his hand moving down your torso to between your legs.



"I do. But you're gonna look even better all swollen wit' our baby inside of ya," he whispers, his fingers slipping in between your folds and groaning as he feels how wet you are. "Ya like that? Like thinkin' 'bout how full you'd be? How your breasts would get heavy wit' milk for our yittle one? Or yittle ones? How everyone'd see what I did to ya? How I love ya 'nough to give ya my baby?"



The noise that leaves you isn't necessarily one you're proud of nor is the way your hands move to cling to his upper arms. You feel his thumb press against your clit and you keen. You've never thought about this in depth but the image he's painting has you practically panting. Your hands scramble to pull him closer and to lift up his stomach just a little bit to reveal his cock already standing at full attention. His precum makes it easier to pull back his foreskin without causing him pain and yet he can't help the way he hisses at the feel of your hand against his cock. He lets himself be guided to where he's on top of you, his full weight pressed up against you as he slides his cock between your folds.



It's hard to say which one of you groans louder at the feeling of his cock inside you but you both don't move for a moment, even as he feels himself twitching inside of you, almost as if his cock is begging him to move. This was it, this was when he was going to make his dream a reality, he could feel it. Everything about tonight might have gone wrong but this wouldn't. You wouldn't leave this bed without his baby growing inside of you. You wouldn't leave this bed without his cum taking root inside you and swelling out your midsection. You wouldn't leave this bed without a baby in you that would cause your body to grow and change and would leave both of you insatiable for each other.



"Move, Elvis. Please," you start to beg before your nails dig into his back and your legs try and wrap around his hips. "Give me what you want to give me."



Make me a mama.



The words stir something inside of him that makes him feel a decade and a head injury younger. You want him to give you a baby, you want him to breed you. He pulls you in for a kiss, rough and almost violent as if he wants to devour you for asking for it. Your tongue meets his in a fight for some control even as he moves to suck on it, only letting go when he pulls away to kiss and nip at your neck, marking it in the only way he can until you've got proof of who you belong to growing inside of you.



His words are slurred when he growls them out, punctuating most of them with a thrust. "Gonna make you a mama. Gonna give you a baby. Gonna watch your tits swell up with milk for our baby. Gonna— goddammit, quit clenchin' baby, gonna have me burstin' 'fore I make ya happy."



What he doesn’t know, or what’s lost in the obscene haze, is that the desperate clenching of your cunt is because you want him to. You want to feel his release inside you before you topple over the precipice of your orgasm. "No. Wanna— Need to feel it first. Give me our baby."



You've never been one to be very demanding or too dominant in the bedroom and Elvis has never responded to it from you but tonight it does something to him. His balls tighten and his arms pull you closer as he feels himself cumming inside of you, his cum filling you to try and do what you commanded of him. A shake runs through him when you kiss him, harsh at first but settling into something softer as he tries to steady himself on top of you. You're so engrossed in watchin him that you end up missing how one of his hands move down to your swollen clit until you feel the brush of his fingers rubbing against it. It's then that your own release hits you in soft waves that he coaxes you through, shushing you quietly as you start to whimper.



"That's it, darlin'. I gotcha." He coos in your ear even as his hand starts to pull away. He doesn't move beyond that, instead choosing to look at you underneath him, chest heaving as you catch your own breath. His hand wanders around your body, watching the goosebumps form on your skin. "Think ya got 'nother round in ya?"



If he's asking himself that more than you, he doesn't let on and you don't bother to point it out. Instead you push against his chest and nod. "I do, but I think I want to be on top of you. Let you play with my boobs. Feel how they are in your hands before you make them swell up."



Elvis doesn't need to be told twice and lays down before pulling you to be on top of him, hissing as you sink onto his cock. "Gonna watch 'em bounce first." His eyes dart to between your legs where he sees a bit of cum leaking out. "After this ya gonna lay back down. Can't be wastin' my cum, darlin'. Not if ya want our baby."



A smirk crosses your lips as you lean to whisper in his ear. "Elvis, daddy, I'm going to be leaking it when we're done."

taglist: @ab4eva , @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, @precious-little-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @prompted-wordsmith, @missmaywemeetagain, @lookingforrainbows, @araxw, @thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24, @austinbutlersgirl67, @heartbrake-hotel, @ccab, @18lkpeters, @slutforsomegoodlettuce, @dkayfixates, @kendralavon7 @chasingwildflowers, @notstefaniepresley, @wanderingelvis, @kxnnxy, @powerofelvis, @stylespresleyhearted, @be-my-ally, @mooodyblue, @pixiedustcosmos, @jessicarcates, @amydarcimarie, @flwrs4aust @myradiaz, @adaydreamaway08, @elirobin, @goldieharry. @arabellalightning505 guarantee i'm missing someone. i tried the end.

[lou-struck]

Girl Dinner?

Katsuki Bakugo x reader

~Your quiet night gets interrupted by the unexpected arrival of your boyfriend who disapproves of your dinner plans

WC: 1.2k

Warnings: Food, swearing, eating , slightly suggestive insinuations

A/n: Hopefully now I can get that damn Tik Tok Sound out of my head

Girl Dinner; ‘a dinner that consists of many different kinds of small snacks rather than just one entree’

There is nothing like a long, hot shower to steam off the effects of a long day. The water soothes your aching muscles and prunes your skin as you belt out show tunes until your voice becomes hoarse.

By the time you turn off the faucet and step onto the plush bath mat, the whole room is filled with steam despite the steady humming of your bathroom fan above you. A quick tug frees your fluffy towel from its hook on the wall, and you quickly pat the remaining water droplets from your skin and throw on the best set of pajamas you own, which includes one of Katsuki’s faded t-shirts and some light blue linen sleep shorts you got in a twin pack at Costco.

You, clean and comfortable, are hit with an emptiness in your stomach. It wines for you to feed it; the setting sun through the window tells you that dinner time has long since passed without you refueling.

Your hair is still damp as you pad through the house, the springy carpet warm against your feet as you make your way to the kitchen. It’s a short journey, but by the time your hand rests on the off-white handle of your noisy refrigerator, you realize that you do not have the energy to actually cook up a meal for yourself. 

Tonight will be a night for some sweet, sweet Girl Dinner for sure.

You tug open the door to see what you have ready to eat inside. Katsuki may not live with you, but he comes by and cooks for the two at least four nights a week. The first thing that catches your eye in the flickering fridge light is a lone butterscotch pudding cup that sits unevenly atop a half-finished bottle of wine.

Your brows furrow as you take the little snack pack off its pedestal. “When the hell did I buy this?” you say aloud, checking the expiration date just to be safe. To your satisfaction, the little snack is still safe to eat.

Placing the pudding on the countertop behind you, you search for a few more things to add to your plate. You see a black to-go container from last night’s dinner and open it up to find a small breaded chicken cutlet.

Protein?

Nice!

You add that to your plate and return to the fridge, opting to look in your pull-out produce drawers to find something else. It’s the bright red from a half-empty package of cherry tomatoes that catches your eye. You take the package and toss the rest of them on your plate chucking the empty container across the room onto your overflowing recycling pile.

You look between your plate and the fridge, trying to find one more thing to add to your plate to make your meal more filling but come up short. Your shoulders slump in defeat as you take your plate over to your dining table. 

Just as you are about to dig in, your door swings open aggressively. The sound makes you jolt as you stare at the entrance with wide eyes. A familiar mop of spiky blond hair steps through the entrance, and you immediately feel at ease.

“Hey Baku-babe, ever heard of knocking?” you sigh, getting up from your place at the table and meeting the crimson gaze of your Pro Hero boyfriend, who looks more than a bit irritated with you. 

“Lock your door next time, you idiot,” he scolds, kicking his shoes off. “It’s like you’re just asking for trouble.” His nostrils flare in annoyance, but he has a tenderness behind his eyes that tells you he is just worried about you.

“Noted,” you giggle, sending him a suggestive smile. “Lock the door, then shower.”

“Wh~, you little.” he tsks, The tips of his ears flushing pink at your playfulness. “God, you never quit with the teasing,”

“Only with you,” you beam, giving him your full attention now that you have had a better look at him; you notice there are a few scrapes on his face that weren’t there when he left this morning, and his eyes look tired. “How was patrol today?”

“Today was a pain in the ass, some extra with a porcupine quirk got locked on the roof of their office building, and I had to get ’em down.” he sighs, “They were so damn freaked out they ended up pricking me with those damn quills.”

“That sounds fun,” you giggle, imagining some poor guy squirming in Bakugo’s arms while the hero helps him off the roof.

” Not fun, just annoying. I’d rather just spend the day actually beating up some villains.” he replies, looking at you with a softness in his gaze. Which disappears when he glances at the plate behind you. “Huh? What the hell were you eating?” he shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down at your plate of food with disdain. 

“It’s Girl Dinner?” you giggle, wrapping your arms around him. He has such a cute look of confusion on his features as you reach around him for the cold chicken cutlet from last night’s leftovers. Before you reach it, he lightly stops your hand and slides the plate away from you.

“That’s not a real meal,” he grumbles, popping one of the little tomatoes into his mouth. 

“It’s real enough for me,” you say, leaning forward and reaching for the plate, “Now give it. I’m getting hangry.” 

He slides it further out of your reach with a look of smug satisfaction. “I can’t let you eat this shit. Hang tight; I’ll make you something better than that crap.”

“B-but my Girl Dinner.” you sigh, sinking into your seat, watching helplessly as he begins to walk your plate back towards the kitchen; your stomach grumbles again as if calling out for the food that has been so lovingly taken away from you.

“Pfft,” he laughs, letting his hyena-like cackles fill the room before looking at you with a spark of merriment in his eyes, “was that your stomach? It sounded like a bear.”

“So what if it is?” you pout, leaning back against your dining chair and crossing your arms over your chest. “I told you I was hungry, and you took away my food.”

He chuckles and walks over to you, sliding the butterscotch pudding in front of you and kissing you lightly on the forehead. “Here, just eat the damn pudding until I’m done. I don’t know what Girl Dinner is, but you deserve better than cold leftovers when you’re with me.”

“My pudding!” You cheer as he slides a spoon in front of you, his words uncharacteristically sweet as he washes his hands of today’s trials with a soft smile on his face. He’d be glad to get pricked by Weird Porcupine Guy one million times over if it meant he gets to come and see you at the end of the day and treat you to a proper meal.

“So what do you want for real dinner?” he asks, moving about your kitchen as if it is his own. “We need to use up that chicken before it goes bad.”

You peel off the lid to your pudding and dip your slightly bent metal spoon into the caramel-colored treat before looking up at him gratefully, “Surprise me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

[kykyonthemoon]

Cookies for the birthday boy

When MC bakes cookies for Zayne on his birthday.

── .✦ Zayne x MC (F.Reader)

With the appearance of other MLs and side characters.

── .✦ Tags: AU, childhood, fluff, sweet, birthday fic, MC and other characters are children, flashfic

── .✦ Word count: less than 500w

── .✦ Ky Ky's notes: This little piece is my entry to a LaD Hotel Discord event.

── .✦ Masterlist ♡ Request a fic - closed for the time being.

When MC and Caleb arrived at Zayne's house, all of their friends were present.

Rafayel was out in the garden, conversing excitedly with the fish. Sylus sat with the crows atop the tree, staring down and smirking at her. Xavier was cuddled up on the sofa, enjoying a nice nap. In a corner of the room, Yvonne was instructing Greyson on how to correctly hang the lovely banner. Thomas and Jeremiah were playing video games together. She also caught the twins Luke - Kieran trading hoods and masks, confusing everyone and making it impossible to tell the difference. All was present, just like at school. Only the birthday boy was yet to appear.

She anxiously fixed the bow on her head and gripped the cookie basket safely. Caleb saw this and softly patted her hand.

"I'm sure Zayne will like your present!"

She nodded. Since being adopted by Grandma and Caleb and moving to the area, she had made many new friends. Including Zayne. It was his birthday. She requested Grandma to help her make frosted sugar cookies for him. She was quite nervous to offer him the gift in person.

However, before Zayne showed up, her cookie basket was almost empty!

When Zayne's mom placed the cookies on the table, everyone wanted to try. One for each person. Everyone praised how delicious MC's baking was. In the blink of an eye, the plate was empty! 

“Huh? Where did the cookies go?” Xavier asked sadly.

“I whink Wywus aw em allllll!” Rafayel replied with his mouth full of cookies. (“I think Sylus ate them all!”)

"Boss has to eat a lot to grow quickly!" Luke and Kieran spoke at the same time.

Even though the party was still fun, she felt bad since she had not left any cookies for Zayne. Later, she caught him in the garden alone. She said:

“Sorry Zayne. I… I wanted to give you cookies…”

Zayne noticed her sadness and replied: "It's fine. I don't really like cookies.”

It was as if she had been struck by lightning. She exclaimed, gasping for air, and clutched the hem of her garment with both hands.

"Z-Zayne doesn't like… my cookies?…" 

Seeing that she was about to burst into tears, Zayne panicked.

“It's not like that. I mean… Please, don't cry… I'm sorry.”

It was too late. The faucet from her eyes had just been opened. She cried out, confusing Zayne even more. Regardless of what he said, she kept on weeping. Even if he made a snow seal for her, it would not be enough to fix the situation. At last, he took her into his arms and caressed her back.

“Be good… There there…”

Zayne's warmth caused her to stop sobbing. She snuggled into his arms. It was his birthday, but why did she feel like she was receiving a gift?

Fortunately, Zayne's mom had quietly kept some cookies just for her son that day.

[toppersbitch]

I'm Right Here // Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Summary: Sebastian helps you through your breakdown/burnout

Word Count: 700

Warnings: talk of giving up, burning out, mental breakdown, bullying, unedited work

Prompt: “I’m here, I’m right here” and “please open up” “you’re doing great”

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

The day was dragging on, classes were too much, and everything was too much. Hogwarts was the love of your school life, but sometimes it was too much. It was hard, the homework never seemed to end. You didn’t understand how anyone had time for good grades and extra circulars. 

The second you exited the doors to head to Beatsts, the rainy weather made you livid. You were splashed by some pesky 1st year. You didn’t think once more before turning and going back. You took a hot shower, tears colliding with the water from the faucet. You screamed into the shower head, turning it off abruptly. You trudged back to your dormitory, thanking Merlin that your roommates were out at their classes. 

You sat in your desk chair, pajamas on. You felt nothing, absolutely nothing. Your hands gripped the armrests, staring straight ahead. Slow tears escaped the corners of your eyes, falling and leaving wet marks on your shirt. 

“Hello?” It was a male voice knocking on your dorm door. You didn’t move from your chair.

“Y/n please let me in! Please talk to me!” It was Sebastian. You jumped up swinging the door open for him, he barged in. 

“Why weren’t you in beasts? I know it's your favorite class?” he was going through the trinkets on your nightstand. 

“I didn’t feel like it,” your voice was monotone, and you sat on the edge of your bed, “how did you get into the girls dorms?” 

“Don’t change the subject,” he turned to look at you finally. Your tear-stained cheeks and rubbed-raw nose. Concern hit him like a train, and he hurried to sit next to you, “what’s happened?” 

You shook your head, the lump in your throat growing, making it impossible to speak. Sebastian was your best friend, but the words couldn’t find themselves out of your mouth. You broke, tears streaming down. You hid your face in your hands, pressing your palms deep into your eyes. Sebastian grabbed at your hands, trying his hardest to remove them from your face.

“I’m here, talk to me,”  he put an arm around your shoulder, his face right close to yours, “I’ll wait here forever if I have to.”

“I don’t want to be here anymore,” you squeaked, your hands never leaving your face. 

“What do you mean?’

“I’m so tired, the work never stops, I don’t feel good enough,” it all came out, world vomit. You didn’t even know if it made sense. 

“Who told you that?” 

“No one,” you didn’t say anymore, you didn’t want to add that you’d heard your roommates talking about you when they thought you were asleep. You held your breath, trying to get yourself to stop sobbing, to no avail your body shook with pressure building up, finally letting out in a wailing noil. 

“Hey, I’m here, it's okay I’m right here,” he pulled you into his chest, the cool satin fabric providing relief to your swollen face. He held your head tight, his hand running through your hair, “for the record I think you’re doing great!”

You heard cackling in the hallway, classes must be out and it must be your roommates. 

“You need to hide,” Sebastian jumped up, jumping into your wardrobe. You wiped your eyes, moving to sit at your desk, pretending to do your work. 

“Why weren’t you in class today?” one of your roommates asked, “Couldn’t handle it?” this was a dig and you knew it. You didn’t reply, simply sat with you back to them, waiting for them to leave. 

When they finally did you let Sebastian out, he spent time popping his joints in exaggeration. You sat back on the bed, feeling as numb as before. 

“Do you need anything?’ Sebastian placed an arm on your shoulder.

“Could you just stay with me?” you looked up at him, your eyes bloodshot and sad. 

“Of course.”

You scooted over, finding a way for you to both fit on the small twin bed, grabbing his hand tightly you closed your eyes, 

“Tell me a story?” you steaded your breathing, matching Sebastians breaths. He began telling you about his winter break excursions, his hand squeezing yours every so often.

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

Not a request, but definitely something I'm needing rn

Find my other stuff HERE

[luveline]

Maybe this is a dumb request…but could you do a fic where Roan is having a really bad day (for no particular reason) and she is just kinda being fussy and behaving differently than normal and Eddie tries to figure out what’s wrong and make Roan feel better while reader falls more and more in love with the both of them. I literally think that would be the cutest ever🥰

i kind of made it so there was a reason but i hope this is still okay! ty for ur request ♥︎ fem!reader

You know it's going to be a difficult day as soon as you wake up, plagued by the absence of a small body between you and your partner. You turn on one side to slap off the alarm, and then the other to wake Eddie yourself. 

He's disturbed by the sound of the alarm but not quite there, and so you cup his face in your hand and rub a pattern into his stubbly cheek with your thumb. 

"My love," you mumble, careful not to breathe any morning breath on him. "Up and at 'em." 

"No." 

You laugh quietly and rub your forehead against his chin. "Yeah, baby. You need a shave, and Roan isn't awake." 

"I can see that. Got a distinct lack of knees in my chest." 

"And morning kisses." 

"Well, you can fix that." 

You climb onto your knees, cradle his face in both hands, and plant a perfect kiss on the tip of his nose. His hand finds your neck, and the two of you linger in place like twin statues for a stolen moment. 

"You shave, I'll get Roanie," you say. 

"Yeah." 

You make for Roan's bedroom. Sounds echo from the bathroom, the faucet running, Eddie shaking a can of shaving foam. You push open Roan's door and shut it behind you, hoping for another gentle wake up call. It can be the difference between a good day and a bad one, to be woken up sweetly. 

Picking carefully over a mess of toys and clothes, you remind yourself to clean up her explosions when you have the time, and lower yourself next to the small lump in her bed. She's still so small. 

"Macaroanie," you sing lightly, hand dropped onto her back. "It's time to get up, princess. I thought we'd have a special breakfast this morning, but we can only do that if we're quick." You rub her back, brush her hair out of her eyes. 

She shies away from your touch and hides her face in the pillow completely. 

"Come on," you say, patting her shoulder.

"No," she grumbles. 

"Come on, baby. I'll make pancakes, okay? But we have to get up now and pick your clothes." 

"No." She moves her shoulder, throwing your hand off. 

You pull your hand into your lap, feeling rather dejected, and totally unawares of what's affecting her. Thankfully, Eddie appears like a saviour, opening the door with a small piece of tissue paper stuck to his cheek. 

"Eddie," you sigh. 

"It's tiny. I was rushing." He finds his place at your side and assesses his still in bed daughter with a puzzled expression. "She sick?" 

"Don't think so." 

He cuts between you and encourages Roan's head to the side. She makes her indignation known, and Eddie says, "Let daddy feel your temperature," in his softest, kindest tone. 

He presses first the back of his hand and then the front to her skin. Practised movements. 

"You feel fine," he says, dropping his hand. "Come on, babe. I know you're tired, but we gotta get this show on the road."

She doesn't say anything, only curls in on herself.

Eddie looks at you unphased. Where you feel hopeless, unsure of what to do even though it's not the first time Roan's been in an unhappy mood, he's a pro. 

"Go do what you need to," he says to you, arms sliding under a grumbling body and hoisting her up into his chest. "I'm on Roan duty today." 

He smiles. You flash one back. 

After you're dressed and ready for work you meet them downstairs, where Eddie's somehow managed to dress himself and Roan, and is now trying to aeroplane cereal into her mouth.

"I'm not a baby," she protests. 

"You're my baby," he says, ignoring her grumpy attitude. 

She's scowling so hard she's gonna have a wrinkle between her eyebrows, and it gets worse as you leave the house. You try to smooth it away when you part, leaning down between Eddie's car and yours to give her your usual farewell kiss on the cheek. She allows it grudgingly.

"Have a good day. I love you." 

She mumbles. You pout and stand at full height, where Eddie offers an apologetic farewell all his own, squeezing your shoulder until it aches in the best way. 

"See you at six," he says. 

You nod. He kisses you, and you don't see them again until you're home. 

You worry about Roan all day. She's a happy kid, she's well-loved. She's loving. It's out of character for her to be so grumpy so you chalk it up to tiredness. 

When you get home, you plan on fulfilling your usual routine; track down Roan where she's watching cartoons on the couch, hug her within an inch of her life, find your boyfriend in the kitchen and hug him too. Eddie works less hours than you so he can be there for pick-up duty, and he's home first each day without fail. But today, there's no sign of him. 

No Roan on the couch. No cartoons. No dinner bubbling on the stove top. 

You check for his car in the driveway again and feel your lips tug down into an unabiding frown. 

"Guys?" you call.

"We're up here!" 

You toe off your shoes and bump up the stairs two at a time, more worried than anything. 

"What's going on in here?" you ask, pushing open Roan's door first. 

They're in her big princess bed, under princess silk sheets. Eddie's swapped his mechanic's coveralls for comfy clothes, and Roan is in one of her nighties. They're both on their backs, though Roan's face rests against Eddie's chest. 

"My sweethearts," you say, more to yourself than either of them. "What's wrong?" 

He runs a hand over Roan's hair. "Can I tell her?" 

She shakes her head and hides her eyes. 

Eddie gives you a sympathetic, sorry pout. "How was work?" 

"It was just fine." You feel behind you for the doorknob. "I'll make dinner, okay? You guys stay where you are." 

Roan pushes up so she can whisper in Eddie's ear. 

Eddie hums. "Okay." He smiles, eyes creased with fondness, and says to you, "Will you come and lie down with us. We- I missed you." 

You rush to get changed and climb into bed with them, crushing Roan in a big love sandwich. Your arm curls around her on impulse, as if you could shield her from whatever it is that's irking her. She doesn't respond in any way, but she's letting you cuddle, and it's enough. 

You listen to Eddie problem solve in awe. He talks slowly, quietly, careful questions that don't probe so much as guide Roan into the answers you want to hear. How was school? And what was for lunch today? Yeah, you like spaghetti, was it as nice as the one we make at home? Aw, that's too bad. We can have spaghetti ourselves this week if you want.

He talks for at least an hour until he gets to the very root of the problem. 

"You were sitting with Melissa again?" he asks. 

You toy with a baby curl, twisting and untwisting it around your finger. Hunger gnaws at your stomach but you refuse to move. 

"Yes… She had her hair in braids again." 

"Yeah?" 

You blink, interest piqued. It's the most she's said of her own volition all day. 

"And everybody said she looked pretty." 

He looks over Roan's head at you with a winning smile, but quickly tamps it down when Roan looks up and between you both. 

"I think you'd look so pretty with braids in, Ro," you say. 

Eddie nods appraisingly. "So pretty. Is that something you want?" 

She seizes up a little, like she hadn't expected to get caught. "I don't know," she mumbles. 

Eddie beams. "You know you look amazing every day, don't you? But, babe? With braids in? I think you'd look so beautiful." 

"Super pretty," you agree with a hurried nod. 

"But dad doesn't know how to do braids," she says, sounding at a crossroads between happy and let down. 

You hold her cheek in your hand and push up onto your elbow. "I know how to do them, princess. Remember, I did them for your costume day? And daddy can learn." 

"I can. You can have your hair whatever way you want, Ro. You could shave it all off-" He stops at your broken-hearted gawping. "Or, you know, something less drastic." 

Roan smiles like everythings been solved. Then, too soon, her tiny smile fades back into indifference, and she curls up like a pill bug. 

You're lost. 

Eddie, not so much. "You don't need different hair to be pretty." 

"Nobody at school calls me pretty," she says. 

You hold your breath. 

"Sweetheart…" He sits up and Roan hides in the space behind his back. He turns around, scoops her up, and kisses the top of her head. "Is your mom pretty?" 

Your heart literally soars, worse when Roan looks over his shoulder at you and says, "Yes," without hesitation. 

"Do you tell her that every day?" 

"...No." 

"No, we don't. We don't always remember to tell her, but that doesn't mean she isn't beautiful." He pulls her face away from his collar to smile at her. "Your friends don't always remember to tell you, but that doesn't mean you're not pretty. But I'm your dad, and I'm literally the smartest guy alive, and I say you look pretty every day." He tucks a curl behind her ear. "'Kay?" 

Your heart is a puddle in your chest, melted. 

"Okay." 

"Feel a little better?" 

She deliberately visually, eyes up to the ceiling. "Can we have spaghetti tonight? They don't make it nice like you, with the bread." 

"They don't, huh?" He smirks, charmed. 

"They really don't," you say.

They remember you're there, and both of them light up. Roan wiggles to be put down and makes her way on top of your chest, a weight you wouldn't trade for anything. "Oof," you say, wrapping your arms around her. "There's my girl." 

Eddie makes spaghetti. You get your after school cuddle. All's right with the world, until that night when Eddie keeps you up late for braiding lessons. 

"I'm a deadbeat," he says morosely, hair full of clumsy plaits of different lengths and tightness. 

You shake your head, head heavy with fatigue but entirely sincere. "You're the best dad in the world." 

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