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chuluoyi · 2 months

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yours, indefinitely

- geto suguru x reader

each memorable and meaningful moment shared by the two of you during your journey to parenthood ♡

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact! (yes i can't resist it) pregnancy, a lot of comfort and love, insecurities, hurt/comfort, a dash of crack, soft!geto, massive and absolute fluff !!

note: based on this and this. this... is an idea i got after writing drabbles about soft dad gojo :') you all know this is my first time writing geto and the first time in a while i'm writing a longer fic so i'm having a lot of doubts but i hope you'll enjoy it!! wc. 3k !

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

When you found out that you were five weeks pregnant, you were genuinely conflicted for two reasons— one, it was unexpected as you weren't even married yet, and two, you were anxious about your boyfriend's reaction to the news.

But contrary to your worries and fears, doubts and tears... Geto Suguru marries you. He led you to the city hall almost immediately— and just like that, in the eyes of the law, you were officially husband and wife.

Because he has always known that he wants to share his life with you, and with this newfound responsibility, it only reinforces his conviction that he wants that kind of forever with you.

MONTH TWO

Your pregnancy wasn't a breeze—no pregnancy is, to be exact—and you had resigned yourself to mornings of throwing up, but you definitely didn't expect that you would get so sick to the point of almost passing out in the bathroom.

You never wanted Suguru to see you like this, but when a strong arm got a hold of you and pulled back your hair, your heart soared regardless.

"Hey, you okay?" Suguru asked, clear worry lined in his eyes. It was five in the morning—he must've been awoken by the ruckus you caused in the bathroom.

When you heaved a breath and nodded, his frown deepened. "Why didn't you call me?"

"N-no, Sugu—" the words barely left your lips before the overwhelming urge to retch hit you again and you doubled over the toilet bowl.

Suguru maintained a steady hold on your body, and not once did he waver even when you puked your guts out. His grip only loosened when you were done, supporting you up and assisting you in rinsing your mouth at the sink.

"Do you feel better?" he asked gently, dabbing your mouth with a tissue. "Do you want me to get you some water?"

"Suguru, you don't have to—" you untangled yourself from him feebly, still feeling faint. "It stinks here—"

"I have to," he reinforced, gaze boring straight at you. "Do you really think a smelly bathroom will stop me?"

“I d-don't want to trouble you...”

Suguru sighed and the next thing you knew, you found yourself being lifted in a princess carry, his hands securely under your knees. Surprised, you let out a yelp. "Suguru! P-put me down!"

"I'm telling you, you should trouble me," he pursed his lips together, face inching closer to yours, his dark eyes captivating, almost drawing you in. "We're in this together, remember?"

And in that very second, the sound of your heartbeat echoed in your ears, and with it a renewed sense of love you had for this man, once just a figure you admired from afar and now, wholly your husband.

"Yeah..." you responded with a soft smile, completely unaware that Suguru cherished seeing that expression on your face more than anything else.

MONTH THREE

When you reached the third month, you thank all heavenly deities out there that your nausea was getting much better.

But in its place was your outrageous craving requests that more often than not sent Suguru into a daze.

"Wha? Say that again?" he looked at you with twitching eyes, mostly in disbelief. "You can't seriously ask me to... get what?"

"Ice cream with lemon toothpaste flavor," you looked at him with sad puppy eyes, almost resembling that glassy-eyed emoji. "It seemed tasty, Suguru... I want it."

His immediate response was clear this time. "No. Love, that... I doubt that combination even exists."

"Hmph... but baby wants it."

"But—!"

"Or I'll just get the toothpaste and—"

"No! Absolutely no!" okay, this was crazy, but Suguru would figure it out, somehow. "You can't eat toothpaste! I'll get it for you, okay!"

"Teehee~" your small giggle actually made his head spin even further, but if it meant you and your baby's wellbeing, Geto Suguru would cross the roads and did something to get you that non-existent ice cream.

In the end, he settled for mint and orange (because the parlor ran out of lemon) to recreate the nonsense of lemon toothpaste flavor. But when you tasted it, your eyes welled up with tears though.

“This... doesn't taste like toothpaste or lemon,” you sniffled, feeling betrayed. “Suguru, you liar.”

. . . oh, and here goes round two of wild goose chase of recreating edible ice cream for you and the baby. Sigh.

MONTH FOUR

With each passing day, your belly swelled, becoming increasingly prominent and rounder. And you wouldn’t believe it but the pregnancy glow was there—through your husband’s eyes, you looked most radiant, carrying his baby.

And it multiplied more when he saw you interact with his two girls.

"Miss Y/N, is it a boy or a girl?" Nanako inquired, touching your bump, her voice filled with excitement.

"Ah, we haven't found out yet..." you patted her in the head, quite touched that now she cared for you this much too. "What do you think it's going to be, Nanako-chan?"

"Ooh, it has to be a boy! If it's a boy, surely he'll be as handsome as Master Geto!"

Mimiko, ever the calmer of the two, hummed. "Hmm, personally I think it's going to be a girl."

"Ehh? If it's a girl... I guess, yeah— at least she's going to be cute!"

Maybe it was your hormones at play, but your spirits dampened somewhat when you noticed how Nanako leaned more towards the prospect of baby brother. The thought lingered in your mind even later that night on your marital bed, as Suguru spooned you from behind.

“Come to think about it, I think we can find out the gender right about now…” you mused, stroking your belly absentmindedly. “Suguru, do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”

Suguru chuckled, placing his warm, bigger hand over yours on your growing tummy. “Hmm, you first. What do you think?”

"Honestly... a girl. At least, if it were up to me, I want a girl though."

"Ah, cute." Suguru felt his smile broaden at the very idea. "Mimiko and Nanako will get an adorable sister to play dress up with."

You nibbled your lower lip. "But you'd want a boy, wouldn't you?"

"Hm? No," he responded almost immediately. "Quite the opposite, actually. I'm with you on this one. A girl would be nice."

"Even when you already have the twins?"

"Another baby girl— what's so bad with that?" Suguru sighed against your neck, his palm still tenderly caressing your belly. "One who will look like you—the woman whom I love the most... what are you worried about?"

One thing you loved about Suguru was his eloquence. His words had the power to persuade you, even when they seemed at odds with your own beliefs. And more often than not, his words were always aimed to make you feel safe.

And right now, you couldn't have loved him more.

. . .

In your next checkup, as if the gods were all granting your wish all this time— you're having a girl.

MONTH FIVE

“Why won’t she kick?” Suguru pressed his ears on your tummy on the bed, brows knitting together.

You grinned. “She was quite lively a little while ago. She's probably resting now.”

Suguru pursed his lips into a pout, snuggling closer to your round belly. “Hmm, little one, can you hear me? Just one kick for papa, please?”

Moments like this were ones you cherished the most. Your husband's love for your unborn child always filled your heart with warmth.

“She’s not responding.” Suguru sat up with a gentle sigh, a hint of disappointment shadowing his expression. Yet, he quickly mustered a warm smile for you. “Tired after bothering mama, huh?”

Suddenly, you let out a hearty chuckle. “You know, Suguru… I think our baby resembles you.”

He blinked in puzzlement. “Eh? How so?”

“She’s so peaceful, hardly causes me any discomfort lately—she’s idyllic, just like you.” You could feel your face getting warm but you just had to say this to your husband.

Suguru was visibly taken aback, but then the hints of pink tinted his face as he smiled. “Well… I’m glad that it’s been a smooth experience for you so far.”

Your heart swelled at his tender, genuine smile. Then, as if on cue, you felt the familiar stirrings and flutter inside—

“Suguru!”

You caught his hand and placed it on your tummy, just in time for your daughter to kick.

Suguru’s eyes sparkled with awe. "Did she just—?"

It was a profound moment for him, feeling the tangible sign of the new life you both had created. And as your laughter filled the room, light and joyful, Suguru knew with unwavering certainty—

He would do everything in his power to protect you and this baby. Who had become his whole world now.

MONTH SIX

It began as one ordinary day— before came the most horrific incident Suguru never thought would happen to you.

He got a call that you had passed out in the train station. Suguru had never truly known fear until then, feeling every hair on his body stand on end. The details he was provided were frustratingly vague, and he desperately tried not to think the worst.

He was teetering on the edge of a panic attack as he made his way towards the hospital you were brought to. The mere possibility of anything harmful happening to either you or the baby was unbearable. He didn't allow himself to consider any negative outcomes, driven by the need to be by your side.

By the time he arrived, you had regained consciousness, though you were still drifting in and out, clinging onto your swimming consciousness.

"Are you okay? Love, talk to me." Suguru got a hold of your hand as soon as he arrived, voice trembling. "What happened?"

"Suguru..." you managed to reply in feeble voice, still feeling the dull pounding in your temples. You could feel him squeeze your hand tighter. "I-I'm sorry... to m-make you worry..."

"Why are you saying sorry?" Suguru gritted his teeth in frustration. Always putting others first, he loved and sometimes hated that trait of yours. He stroked your hair. "Tell me how you feel. Do you feel better? Or should I call the doctor?"

Seeing how deeply concerned he was for both you and your baby brought a tear to your eyes. "I'm f-fine... just a little dizzy is all."

Once the doctor examined you and determined that you needed to stay in the hospital for a day due to low blood pressure, Suguru was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief.

"You really, really scared me," he said in a raspy voice. "So many things could've gone wrong. What if you fell into the tracks instead? You would— I —" his voice actually hitched. "I could've lost both of you today."

At his words, a new flood of tears threatened to spill from your eyes, and you couldn't help but sniffle. Suguru immediately comforted you.

“You’re okay, you’re okay… Don’t cry, please.” He cradled your face gently, thinking he had spooked you. “Just rest. I’m here,” and his other hand rubbed your belly for reassurance. “You and the baby are safe.”

Through this, you realized once again just how secure you were, with him.

MONTH SEVEN

You had been taking the prenatal classes lately—Suguru insisted on it because there was nothing he wouldn't spare for you— and the reality once again sank into you that you were going to have a little human to love and care soon.

"You need to hold her like this..." the friendly instructor guided, positioning her hand on the back of the doll's head. "Be gentle when washing the head, and make sure not to scratch her—"

Now you were once again learning how to bathe the baby. It felt complicated at first, but after the fifth session, you were getting the hang of it.

Not the case with Suguru though. He seemed to be genuinely struggling.

"No, sir! You're going to drown her like that!" the instructor gasped in horror, pulling the baby doll out of your husband's grasp. "I'm sorry, but the way you're holding her is too risky! You have to lower her slowly—"

It brought a wide smile on your face. It was a rare sight to see him not being good at what he was doing, so seeing him totally confused like this was refreshing.

"This is... not quite as easy as it looks," he let out a long sigh, still trying to wash the doll's head as gently as he was instructed. "And I can't really tell when I'm being too rough or not."

"Just imagine it's a real baby, how soft you think you can be?" you advised, almost giggling. "Babies are delicate, sort of like... oh! You can think of them as sensitive as Gojo!"

Suguru gave you a look. "If it were a baby with Satoru's face... I might just flip and toss him away."

And yet despite having a hard time for it, Suguru was persistent in this practice. Because no way was he going to miss out bathing his baby.

MONTH EIGHT

"Suguru... we—" you said in one intake of breath, but unable to continue as he crashed his lips into yours.

With skilled hands, Suguru deftly maneuvered the inside of your maternity sleepwear, unclasping your bra and your breasts—now heavy and full of milk—spilling out.

You didn’t mean to drag him into this. You just made one comment about how you thought that he no longer seemed to desire you as much now and Suguru responded by pulling you into a searing kiss, as if to show you that he, in fact, very much still does.

He groped your left breast and your body spasmed as you let out a hitched moan, writhing under him.

“What part of you—” he drawled, eyes blazing with certain electricity, voice deep and low—and you couldn’t help getting even wetter down there. “—that you said I’m not interested in anymore, mama?”

You mewled, feeling so small under him. You could only whine as he stripped you out of your silken undergarments and let you lay there bare, ready for the taking.

In Suguru’s eyes, you were the most divine. The mother of his child couldn't be less than heavenly. Seeing you so swollen and so full, with everything that was his—made him harder than ever possible.

You would learn it the fast way as his lips latched on your neck, nimble fingers worked through your breasts, and then your pussy—

“Ride me,” he commanded, right after turning you into a wet mush three times and tasting your cum—which was still as sweet as ever. He helped you get up and sat on his hardened member, that slid so easily inside you as you let out a whimper.

Gone was your gentle husband—he always turned into another beast entirely in bed.

“Look at you, sitting so pretty for me like this,” Suguru remarked with a meaningful grin as he placed his hands on both sides of your enormous belly.

“Mmnghh!” you scrunched your eyes shut. The sounds you made were completely beyond your will by now. Everything was just overwhelming you. The way his thick cock sheathed itself inside you and made you feel full, and the way your baby twisted and turned inside you at the same time was mind-blowing— and you haven't even started moving yet.

You could already see it already, how much of a mess you were going to be in once this ended.

Suguru noticed the baby’s rambunctious movement too and lightly tapped the skin of your belly, maintaining his sly smile.

“Oh, baby… forgive your papa and mama and buckle up, yeah? It’s going to be a rough ride for a bit.”

And soon, on one fateful morning, you were awoken by signs of labor, followed by your water breaking and full-blown contractions.

Suguru was beside you the entire time, worriedly hovering over you for support. He held you tight, providing comfort as you curled inwards each time intense contraction gripped your womb like a vice, hardening it into a rock-hard mass. Now is the real deal, he thought. Suddenly he was having doubts himself— he was going to become a parent. Both of you are.

Seeing you subjected to that much pain was almost unbearable, and even more so when your pained cries and screams echoed through the room as you brought your baby into the world, but then, then, suddenly—

His baby girl is here. She fit perfectly in his arms, round and snug in her blanket, with the softest black tufts of hair that she inherited from him. She cooed and mewled in her sleep—

—and Geto Suguru thought, nothing—absolutely nothing else mattered the very moment he laid eyes on his beautiful daughter.

"She is so tiny, so precious," Suguru whispered, his finger gently tracing the soft cheeks of the sleeping baby. Leaning on his shoulder, you could only sigh in awe, marveling at the sight of your husband and your new baby.

"Thank you," he turned to you then, eyes brimming with unshed tears and emotions. For giving me a another person to care for and love.

And you were at your happiest, finding yourself falling in love with your husband all over again, knowing well that he would cherish you with everything he had.

Days and months following the birth of your daughter was hectic and eventful.

Nanako and Mimiko had been a really great help around the house, and they adored your baby daughter more than anything, always taking turns to entertain her and make her all giggly, which brought you to another level of happiness.

And most of all, Suguru had taken his new role as a dad very seriously. You remembered him visibly struggling at baby care classes, but now he was a master of diaper changing and baby bathing— and you wouldn't be surprised if he was even better than you by now.

"Suguru, how are you so great at this all of a sudden?" you genuinely wondered with a literal question mark as you watched him washing your daughter in a bubble bath, her laughter filling the room.

"Hard work and perseverance, love," he replied, his tone light but proud. And you snorted when he gave you a wink.

Your daughter had never been shy to cry her heart out at 3 in the morning too, and each time she did, whenever you were about to leave the bed, Suguru would gently hold you back with a raspy voice, murmuring, "I'll get her. Go back to sleep."

He was the best husband a woman could ask for. Throughout the five months of your postpartum, he always made sure that you stayed hydrated, had a lot of rest and consumed nutritious food to replenish your strength. He always took over the baby-rearing duties whenever possible. You were treated no less than a princess, and honestly you were ever so grateful.

And so this time, despite his willingness, you got up from the bed and went to the baby's room. And the sight there caught your heart—

"There, there..." Suguru's voice was thick with sleep, yet he rocked your daughter back and forth with gentle patience. "Do you want to change your blanket? Is it not comfy for you?"

Your heart softened, melted—perhaps even fluttered away with the wind, turning into mush. When you first discovered a year ago that you were going to have a baby, you could never have anticipated that this was the life you would find yourself in.

Suguru opted to switch the blanket for a new one, but as you watched him fold and unfold it several times, confusion evident on his face, you decided it was time to step in.

"Here, you do it like this," your sudden appearance startled him, as you gently took the fabric away from him and wrapped your fussy daughter in it. "Looks like I finally found something you're still not great at," you teased, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

He was about to usher you back to the bedroom until you said that. "Heh."

You loved this life, and he too wouldn't trade it for the world. In the quiet tranquility of dawn, after both of you had successfully put your baby back to sleep, you spoke, "Thank you... and I love you, Suguru."

But he thought— you shouldn't have to thank him for anything, because after all, Geto Suguru lives for two princesses in his life; you and his baby daughter.

And after this, all that was left was giving you the wedding celebration of your dreams, one that both of you had been setting aside for a while now.

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shadow4-1 · 21 days

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I'm just imagining using a secluded space on base to do some yoga away from the 141, only to realize Ghost's been watching disapprovingly the whole time.

Like, what you lack in raw strength compared to the boys, you have in agility. You're not nearly as rigid. You're flexible, and it's only because you take the time to work on it. You have several methods but dancing and yoga are by far your favorite.

Neither hobby you can enjoy on base much, because well...you always get stared at. So, you take it upon yourself to clear out part of old studio space used for storage. It's kind of crappy, with cracked tile and dust bunnies galore, but it'll do. You play some music in your earbuds and do your beginning stretches on your mat.

When you're in the zone you're in the zone. You end up in a place far away and yet still within yourself. The burning stretch from some of your maneuvers feels so good you nearly groan. You get lost in the personal meditation. One certain position uses a specific pair of muscles in your lower back. It takes you a moment to realize why it makes you gasp. You bite your lip and decide to take a short break.

As you untangle your body you feel something's off. You're physically fine, but your heart starts to race. Your stomach lurches. You move to stand, suddenly startled by seemingly nothing.

"Yer doing it wrong."

And just like that Ghost makes himself known from behind a shelf. He's in his workout clothes, which isn't much but some slinky basketball shorts and a tank top. Black of course. His mask is the soft one he uses when he's not on the field.

You scoff at him, still feeling on edge but also relieved at no immediate threat.

"You do yoga?" You ask incredulously. "Fine, big guy. Show me how it's done."

He rolls out a mat and gestures for you to copy him. It's a simple move, one you've perfected. And yet he still shakes his head at your form. You try it again. Wrong. Again. Wrong.

"Where am I going wrong?"

You don't expect him to reach over and grab your back leg. He pulls it out further. You stumble and he rights you with the same arm. He tuts at you, but he's the reason you're off balance.

"Lift your back. No. Higher. Your hip should be down."

Next thing you know he's behind you, his large hands making your body twist and bend. You end up in the same position as you'd been in earlier, but this time you can really feel the stretch. Maybe he was right, you were doing it wrong.

You tilt your back up and feel the familiar stretch. It's better than you've ever been able to get it on your own. You can't help the soft groan that leaves your lips. The last time those muscles had been used was before you joined the 141, when you'd still had a boyfrie-

Two hands grab at those spots. Large thumbs work circles into the areas. Despite yourself, you moan. This was going a bit too far but...

The more he kneads the more you fall to your knees. You can't hold the position with your back up anymore. You practically collapse onto the mat, ass up, Ghost knelt over you.

He still doesn't let up. His thumbs dig into those circles hard enough it should hurt but instead you only feel bliss. You bite your lip, it feels so fucking good. Eventually he relents, and stops digging into you. You whine at the absence.

"That feels so good." You groan, voice sounding way too needy for what just occurred.

"M' glad." Ghost huffs amusement evident in his tone.

Ghost grabs you and flips you over onto your back. He grabs one of your legs and pushes it as far forward towards your head as he can without hurting you. He does the same to the other. It's a weird position, but it's not far off from some of the other ones you're used to. It burns but it also feels good. Considering you're flat on your back, you feel supported.

You smile up at him, a little breathless but also happy that he's willing to help you out. Yoga did not seem like something any where near his wheelhouse.

"I didn't know you liked yoga. How did you learn about this stuff?" You ask, using your own arms to hold your legs in position as Ghost gets up higher on his knees.

Ghost huffs behind his mask as he looks down at you. He narrows his eyes, his head blocking out the white light of the overhead flourescents. You feel a hand slide between the material of your shorts and the curve of your ass.

"The Kama Sutra."

#cod imagines #mw2 #call of duty #mw2 headcanons #simon ghost riley #cod mwii #simon riley x reader

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literaila · 3 months

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one in the morning

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary:

"satoru. where did you get these kids?"

warnings: slight angst, awkward child rearing, a bit of arguing, and pining (of course), slightly ooc gojo

a/n: because i am a sucker for little megumi

year zero. year one.

it's not that you're not expecting the call. except that you're not.

like not even a little bit. an asteroid coming down and destroying only you and your apartment building is slightly more likely than satoru gojo calling you in the middle of the night, like he hasn't done in the last six months.

the last year, really.

a year ago you would've known who it was immediately and probably would've cursed satoru out for calling you at three in the morning to see if you wanted to go get ice cream with him (and then you would've gotten up and put on your shoes to find him outside of your room, already grinning).

but now you have to check the caller id.

you blink around in the dark--struggling through the dregs of dream you're still waking through--and sigh.

unfortunately, you've never had quite enough willpower to ignore this phone call. shoko has called you an idiot many times--too many times, actually--telling you that satoru's attention-seeking habits are not your responsibility. not that she's had to say that in a while, though... and it's not like you're going to sneak out in the middle of the night with him anymore--you can't sneak out. you have your own house. there’s no yaga to look down on you disapprovingly here.

and he hasn't called you in six months. you haven't even heard about him beyond some irritated remarks from yaga, and shoko's knowing glances when you try to nonchalantly bring him up.

and still.

it takes you a moment to pick up the phone, your thumb hitting the answer button before your mind can stop you.

"satoru?" you whisper, listening to the breathing on the other end.

there's some muffled moving around, and then a breath, and then someone in the background speaking, and then--

"i need your help." his voice is quiet like he doesn't want anyone to hear what he's saying.

what time is it? have you ever heard satoru say those words before?

your first thought is that he's on another mission. that there's a cursed spirit and he needs some assistance. but when has satoru gojo asked anyone for help with a cursed spirit? when has he ever needed it? suguru was typically there to keep him from--

you pause, sitting up in bed. this might be a nightmare, but usually, you're more accustomed to them. "where are you?" you ask him, speaking in the same soft voice.

you expect him to name off some city, some house, some country that you couldn't possibly get to. you expect him to crack a joke, say something to you about being lost without him, or laugh at how serious your voice sounds. but he only murmurs, "at your door."

like it isn't a completely crazy thing to say. how does he even know where you live?

"it's one in the morning," you say, frowning. some small part of you wants him to actually be there, expecting a knock to come from the void of your hallway. and the other, much bigger part, thank you, wants him to be joking.

"i know," he sighs, and the receiver is muffled again, and then, "can you open it?"

"what's going on?"

"please," he repeats. there's no joke to this. this is not satoru asking you if you want to go get donuts at six in the morning, or milkshakes at midnight. "i'll explain. i just need your help."

you bite back some remark about how he hasn't needed your help for the past year. about how he hasn't called, hasn't texted, and hasn't even asked about you since--

but you stand up, trying to untangle a knot in your hair. you hang up on him without answering. your heart gets a bit of satisfaction from that.

and go to your door, giving yourself two seconds to prepare for the real-life satoru in front of your face. blue-everything eyes, you think, wall white hair, and a stupid smile.

but when you open it, your eyes drift to his (sort of) like they're already sure of where exactly he might be, it isn't just him.

there's a little boy--as tall as satoru's waist, with dark hair and furrowed brows to match--standing in front of another little girl--the same dark hair, but blank face--glaring up at satoru like he's kidnapped both of them.

your eyes widen as you realize that he probably has.

"this is basically every kid's dream," he's telling this boy, his playful voice like they’ve known each other for years. "i got you candy and i'm letting you stay up late. why aren't you normal?"

"why aren't you?" this boy retorts, and his voice is hard. unreasonably sarcastic for such a small person. it might make you giggle, the obvious tension between the two of them, if you weren't so worried about these kids' poor parents, freaking out at their disappearance.

the little girl is the first to notice you there, and she waves, her face much softer, much more exhausted than the boys in front of her. but she doesn't look frightened; not concerned with wherever this strange man has taken the two of them.

and satoru looks up at the motion, his mouth turning as he looks at you.

the little boy frowns, but his eyes settle. there's a brief moment where he watches you and you think that he's about to start begging for your help, but then it's gone. and his eyes trail back to satoru, still angry.

you blink, swallowing at the three of them. this is not ice cream.

"satoru," you get out, eventually. "where did you get these kids?"

"okay," you set a glass of water on the coffee table, trying to put on a normal smile. your hands are shaking, so you tuck them under your sleeves. "i'm sorry i don't have a lot of extra blankets, but if you get cold i'll go look through some boxes and see what i can find."

it's been ten minutes with them inside your apartment, and you already feel like you're doing something wrong. satoru, obviously, just briefly introduced the two of them to you, before you grabbed his arm and dragged him--along with the kids that trailed behind--into your apartment.

you'd hissed at him about how it was cold, and one in the morning, and they needed to be asleep. he only smiled and asked how you were.

so now they're cuddled up on your couch, with your only spare blanket, both of them with dreary eyes. you're trying not to look too closely--to check if they've been crying, or if they're harmed in any sort of way.

the little boy--megumi--nods and tsumiki smiles at you.

how four little eyes can look so appreciative, you're not sure.

satoru is leaning against the wall behind you, watching you move around these children like it's normal, and you have to bite your tongue to keep from screaming at him.

"is there anything else you need?" you ask them, trying to be softer than you are. you should’ve taken that babysitting job when you were twelve; you’re completely out of your depth here.

megumi shakes his head.

"no, we're good," tsumiki says.

and you seriously want to get them to a hospital. where did they come from? why does satoru have them? is he insane? are they insane? have you just dreamt this all up?

"okay, satoru and i are just going to go talk in the kitchen for a bit. come get me if you need anything." and you smile again, taking a couple of hesitant steps as they both look away from you to the show that tsumiki put on when you handed her the remote.

at least they're not outside anymore.

you drag satoru into the kitchen, thinking about knocking the wind right out of him. he's always been particularly punchable, but right now he's even more so.

and he's smiling adoringly at you.

“satoru," you grind out, trying to keep your voice down. he leans against your countertop, crossing his legs.

and he hums inquisitively. “you know, i don’t think megumi likes me very much.”

“satoru.”

“not sure…" he scratches his head, white hair falling over his sunglasses. "i mean he’s kind of a weird kid but still. i took them to the store to pick out anything they wanted and neither of them got anything. even when i showed them the different cakes they had in the bakery. there were matcha rolls today, too. do you think they’re robots or something?”

“satoru. where did you get those children?” your voice is a step away from furious.

why is he here right now? why does he just barge into your life at unprecedented moments, acting like nothing has changed between the two of you?

acting like you haven't missed the sound of his voice or the way he speaks with his hands, or how he's standing right next to you, warmth radiating off of him like a toxin.

“is that important right now?” he asks. “we’re talking about their spending habits.”

“i’m talking about you. tell me that you didn’t steal them from the park and that i’m not obligated to report you.”

“are you serious?" he shakes his head at you, his voice still teasing, calm as ever. "you think i’d just take some random kids home with me?”

“i don’t know!" you tell him, finally breaking--your voice is raised, and you almost don't notice. "i don’t even know how you got here, or where you’ve been in the past six months, or whose children those are because they are certainly not yours.”

he pouts. “you don’t think they look like me?”

“you’re too pale.”

“that’s rude, you—“

“whose kids are they? now, satoru.”

you hope your face looks intimidating, but honestly, your demand is more like a suggestion when it comes to satoru. he can listen or he can leave.

you don't know which one you want more.

there’s a beat of silence where he rubs his foot on the ground, messing up your tiled floors probably. and then he sighs, relenting. “…toji zenin’s.”

he could’ve said anything else and you wouldn’t even care. oh, he found those kids abandoned in a warehouse on a mission? cool. oh, he found some long-lost cousins? great. if it were anything else, you would've waved him off and told him that he needed to get them new clothes, or something.

but this?

“what?!”

“shh. you’re the one who said they need to sleep," he tries to look around the corner of your hallway, even though you both know he doesn't need to.

you’re gawking at him, but, really, can it be helped?

“toji zenin?!”

“well technically fushiguro according to the records i dug up. but zenin nonetheless...”

“you stole his kids?!”

“i didn’t steal—“

“he tries to kill you so you kill him instead and take his children hostage?!”

this would be a wonderful moment to wake up.

satoru waves this statement off, frowning. “you’re really brushing over the ‘tried to kill me’ part. what? you don’t care about me?”

“why do you have them, satoru? what are you planning to do? torture them for information?" your eyes are wide and your heart is panicked. "they’re kids—“

he scowls. “of course not.”

“then what? tell me everything, starting from when toji tried to kill you.”

“why do you automatically think i did something?" he complains. "it’s not like i asked zenin to kill me first. i didn’t bait him into slicing my throat open.”

“because you always start the problems.”

“not true. sometimes i solve them, and sometimes i—“

“how did you find out about them?”

he sighs. “he told me about megumi, before he, ya know,” and then he makes a motion across his neck. and a terrible noise that supposedly indicates death.

you don't even mock him for it “why?” you ask.

“megumi might inherit the zenin technique. he’s worth a lot to the zenin clan, and i guess that toji made a deal with them.”

“you guess?”

“well, it’s not like i had a whole lot of time between the resurrection and murdering thing to ask him. i didn’t invite the guy out for tea so he could tell me about his pride and joy," his voice is riddled with sarcasm, so you can't decide if he's joking or not.

he is the most infuriating person you've ever met.

“so what? he asked you to keep megumi away from them?”

“no, he didn’t seem the sentimental type. maybe he told me cause he didn’t want megumi to grow up there, or maybe he told me so i could claim the prize money for myself.” he shrugs. “it doesn’t matter.”

you glare at him. “oh, it doesn’t?”

“no. i asked megumi what he wanted and this was it. he doesn’t want to live there and leave tsumiki behind, or have her live in that misogynistic shithole.”

“how old is he?”

satoru almost winces. "uh, six?”

“you don’t even know how old he is?” you close your eyes, shaking your head.

“he’s in first grade! we haven’t gone through all of the basics yet.”

“and tsumiki?”

“…nine.”

“satoru.”

“i’ll figure it out. megumi acts like he’s fifty years old anyway, so what do i care?”

you can practically see him rolling his eyes.

“what do you care?" you repeat, mocking. "you just told me that megumi made this decision for himself. he's a kid. he probably doesn’t understand—“

“he understands that if he goes to the zenin clan his sister will suffer in whatever way they deem fit. i mean, you know what it’s like for girls there—especially without any cursed energy.”

“you cant just make this decision for them on a whim, satoru. have you thought any of it through? where are they going to stay? who’s going to watch them when you’re sent away? where are they going to go to school? what if megumi does inherit his cursed technique?”

“all of that doesn’t matter. i'll figure it out," he waves off the topic of their lives like it's a mere suggestion, "what matters is that i keep those kids from being subjected to a life of servitude and competition. that they get to be kids while they can.”

you swallow. is there a way not to be frightened by this? “i know—i know where you’re coming from," you give him a weak smile, trying not to yell, or fight, or question this so much that satoru shuts down. "it’s nice of you to be… worried about them. but this isn’t like taking in a lost kitten, satoru. these are children.”

“do you really feel the need to point that out?”

“yes. what do you know about kids?”

he smiles, wide. “nothing!” he exclaims. “that’s why i came here. and you’re already doing a great job.”

you frown. “what do i know about kids?”

“well, you like them, don’t you?”

“what?”

“when we went to that daycare center during second year you played with all of the kids. you like them," he nods as if affirming it himself.

you went to a daycare with satoru once to take care of a grade three curse and apparently, it's led him to insanity.

“you’re comparing my hide-and-seek skills to taking care of those two kids on my own?"

“i mean, i’ll be here too...”

“taking care of three children on my own?” you correct.

satoru pouts.

you think about what suguru told you after riko amanai died; about satoru and the shift within him. some sort of manic strength he hasn't uttered a word about since.

but you continue, swallowing. "what's this really about?" you ask, softly, trying not to be mad, or worried, or concerned about why he came here to you. "it's not like you to... take responsibility for something you're not responsible for."

his pout turns into a frown. you can see his brows furrow. "you don't think i'm capable of helping people?"

"i know you're capable. but why? why now? i mean, it's been a year since toji died, and you're just getting them now? you suddenly remembered what he said to you?"

"i had to figure out the logistics of toji's deal."

"okay," you shake your head, "but still. why not have a family take them in? find someone who can give them a relatively normal life before they're pushed into all of this?"

satoru's face is blank. "no. what happens when megumi is eight and his new 'parents' put him in a hospital because he's seeing things that they can't?"

for the first time since he's walked through your front door, he sounds almost serious.

"i--"

"what happens when they're afraid of him because he draws in cursed energy? when his 'family' rejects him like yours did? like suguru's did?"

"satoru."

"honestly, do you think that's any better?" he gestures to your living room, to the kids he's proclaimed responsibility for. "if he does inherit his technique then the zenin clan will go looking for him anyway, and he won't be able to protect himself because there was no one to teach him how. no matter where he goes he's going to be ripped away from tsumiki, who seems to be the only thing he actually cares about. he didn't even want to know--"

"is this about suguru?" you ask him, the words falling before you can catch them.

satoru stills. you can see every one of his muscles tense. preparing for a fight. "what?"

"are you trying to... make up for his decisions? do you feel guilty? is megumi supposed to replace him?"

"replace him?"

"i know you think that you can take care of everything on your own, satoru, but you can't. it's not your fault that toji died. and it's not your fault that suguru left--"

"it is my fault." he says, so softly the words are almost caught before they can reach you. "it is."

you shake your head. you should've had this conversation months ago. a year ago, before any of this could happen.

"c'mon, y/n," he continues, no laughter, no smile, no swagger. "i saw what was happening. everyone did. but i was his best friend. i was supposed to be there for him."

"suguru didn't want you there. he didn't want you to be a part of it."

"well i could've stopped him. even if i couldn't save suguru--" his voice cracks on his name. "i could've saved everyone else. but i didn't."

"that's... that's a ridiculous suggestion. how are you supposed to kill your best friend? why should you have to save everyone? why would you even--"

"megumi isn't some replacement. he's a little boy, and if i'm not there for him then he's going to be stuck with his family. just like i was. he's going to be used for his cursed energy and who knows how he'll turn out? if he'll kill people recklessly like toji, or die trying to do the right thing?"

you're silent.

"i'm the only one who can protect him from this," satoru says, and you realize that he's been thinking about this for the past year. that every second since he almost died, this has been on his mind. "they're not going to touch him if i make it clear that i won't let them. i won't--i'm not going to let him become someone he doesn't want to be."

you sigh. "satoru..."

his body moves at your voice and he smiles again, shaking off whatever anger you drew out. it's almost a complete shift in who you're talking to. like the stakes no longer matter to him; these kids are just another obstacle to face, a power to control.

like he's remembered the role he's supposed to play.

"besides, someone's going to need to take over for me eventually. i might as well train him myself."

you cant see his eyes, and that’s probably good. you wish someone else were here to take your side, explain to satoru that he’s just a kid himself. that he shouldn't have to take care of everything on his own.

because when it’s just you, he always has the upper hand. he always gets his way.

"okay," you say, eventually, after you realize that you'll never win this fight. that you don’t want to fight with him at all.

"okay?" he repeats. "so you'll help me?"

"help you?"

"yeah. why do you think i brought them over here?"

you pause. "you want me... to what? raise them?"

"with me, yes."

"are you kidding?"

"no. you're probably the only person i trust to help."

the words do something almost indescribable to your body. the person you were a year ago would've cried out in relief, would've clung to him like glue to paper.

but you frown instead. "seriously?"

"you've already taken care of them better than i could. look." he drags you around the corner to where tsumiki has her head on megumi's, both of them snoring softly, folded into the blanket you gave them.

the tv flickers in the background, bothering neither of them. how they've managed to fall asleep with all of the yelling that's been going on, you don't know.

"see? they already feel safe around you."

"they're exhausted," you correct, but feel yourself soften at the sight of them. they are kinda cute without the scowl or concern plaguing their faces.

"we're going to be great parents," satoru coos, slinging an arm around your shoulder.

you push him away. "we are not their parents. we are... permanent babysitters. nannies."

satoru fixes you with an amused look. "okay."

"and you still owe me an explanation. i want a complete narrative about what you've been doing for the past six months. and how you found the two of them."

"okay," he steps closer to you again like you won't notice.

"and--" you don't have anything else. it's one in the morning. how clear is your mind supposed to be? "and you're paying for anything they need."

"uh huh."

eventually, you sigh. it's a surprise that you've lasted this long. "fine. i'll help you. but only because they'd probably die if they spent more than twenty-four consecutive hours with you."

satoru doesn't say anything--not to whine or roll his eyes--and it's a small acknowledgment, a thank you he doesn't have to say out loud. he'll take this win, at least.

the two of you watch them, relaxing into the wall.

after a minute satoru whispers. "by the way..."

"what?"

"i didn't tell megumi that i killed toji."

you turn to him. your eye might as well start twitching.

"what? he said he didn't want to know--"

you're sneaking into the kitchen when you notice him sitting at the table. his hands are crossed in front of him, his eyes focused on a stain you haven't been able to get off of the wood.

he's very small, you realize, watching him. his hair is messier than it was the night before, sticking to his head like he slept slumped against it.

he's not doing anything, really. just sitting there. you can see his legs swinging in the air.

and before you can prepare for what to say to this little boy who you're probably going to be spending a lot of time with, your mouth is open. "hey," you say to him, just whispering.

tsumiki must be sleeping.

megumi looks up, quickly, like he wasn't expecting you to be there. his eyes are wide like he's been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. but then he slumps down again and gives you a brief nod in acknowledgment. then looks back down, because the table is very interesting.

you wonder how many mornings he's woken up alone, with no one to tuck him back in.

"can't sleep?" you ask him, standing across from him and leaning against the table.

"this is when i usually wake up," you recall his voice the night before when satoru was teasing him, rougher than a boy's should be. but it's soft now, quiet.

it's probably seven if the clock on your bedside table is to be believed.

"you were up pretty late, though."

he almost rolls his eyes, remembering the events of the night before.

and you can tell that he doesn't really want to talk to you. he doesn't know anything about you, or what you want with him. why should he trust you?

you clear your throat. "how old are you?"

he looks up again. "six. why?"

"satoru wasn't sure."

this time, megumi actually rolls his eyes. you're familiar with this sort of annoyance directed at satoru, so you smile, just a little bit. at least there's something you can relate to.

"and tsumiki?"

"seven."

you nod, stepping away.

what do you say to a boy who has been dragged into your home by a maniac?

you sigh, clearing your throat again. "are you hungry?"

megumi's eyes narrow. there's a brief second between the two of you, where some sort of understanding passes through his eyes. who was the last person to make him breakfast?

and then he nods, slowly.

you smile. "okay. c'mon, let's see if i have anything you like."

next part.

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finalgirllx · 3 months

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mattheo riddle hair headcanons

as a self-identified curly hair enjoyer, i can confirm that mattheo's hair is a big part of what lured me in at first. so i wanted to do a little spotlight for it.

nsfw content | minors dni

mattheo riddle has delightfully unruly, curly black hair that transforms into a warm chocolate brown when exposed to the sunlight.

most often, mattheo couldn't care less about how it's styled. he finds himself in so many chaotic situations that it's no wonder he doesn't take the time to pay attention to how his hair looks.

usually, this nonexistent hair routine works like magic. his fluffy curls fall effortlessly into place which only adds to his attractiveness. even when it does run more on the wild side, it fits his energy much better.

whenever it gets too rampant, you relish the opportunity to fix it, meaning you get to run your hands through and internally geek out over how effortlessly soft it is as you untangle his locks.

mattheo doesn't like being touched. that is, by anyone besides you. as repelled as he may be by physical contact with others, the way he relaxes and finds it soothing when you take over and style his hair reveals that physical touch is, indeed, his love language when it comes from the right person.

despite initial attempts to blow off your help to 'seem cool', insisting that you need not mess with his hair, he always relents and secretly loves the sensation of you adusting the 'out of place' pieces.

mattheo is also aware of much you enjoy doing it, sometimes tousling it before you come over. he can't wipe the triumphant smirk off his face fast enough when you question how he managed to mess it up so quickly, just waiting for you to seat yourself behind him and fall into what has become a routine.

yes, you still like him when he gets his hair cut- a measure of true love indeed. but it is when it gets longer that it hits that sweet spot for you, and the struggle not to constantly pounce on mattheo while at that sexy length takes your every ounce of willpower.

he does not like the mullet look on himself, but you absolutely love it. he will endure it when it gets to that point for a few days just to see you happy.

mattheo lets you grasp his hair during sex, especially to hold on for dear life when he goes down on you.

however, mattheo hates when you tug it. more often than not, if you take it too far, he will let out a low growl and warn you that he won't let you finish if you pull a stunt like that again.

he has never followed through before; he loves going down on you too much. but the fear it strikes in you works as a fun little tease that helps you both make it over the edge.

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle headcanons #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #slytherin #slytherin boys

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oftidheard · 6 months

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heyyy im not sure what qualify’s as a request but I would love if you wrote a snow x reader about like early mornings with him.

dont worry this counts! this is short and sweet, i tried my best not to make it too short but i couldnt think of a way to make it longer without adding unnecessary plot, but i hope you like it nonetheless ♡

❄ little red bird come to my windowsill ㅤ⠀coriolanus snow x reader ㅤ⠀↳ 0.6k ↳ fluff ↳ gender neutral

you wake up softly, like you'd been asleep atop a cloud that had been gently rocked by the fresh winter wind.

a sigh leaves your lips as you unconsciously shuffle slightly, wrenching your arm from where it had been wedged beneath your side all night, and tilting your chest further from the mattress until you fall back quietly.

you pry open your eyes to see coriolanus still twisted in his sleep, tilted to interlock with where your body had been laying just a moment ago.

his breath is warm where it reaches your shoulder, and you take notice of each place your bodies meet, from your twisted legs to where your chests still barely touch; counting and smiling at each one as if it's the only thing in the world you'll ever need to worry about.

you've always appreciated how the world slows down in the morning, how the rising sun takes her time to give her people a moment to rest their heads just a little bit longer, and to truly appreciate their lovers bathed in the approaching rays of warmth.

the curtains are barely open, but as the day grows brighter sunlight has started to peak through the gaps, running across the blankets and through coriolanus's soft hair.

he hasn't woken up yet, and you argue to yourself that it's just early enough that he shouldn't have to be up just yet. he doesn't like sleeping in, but you can't bring yourself to wake him when he looks so peaceful like this.

his eyebrows aren't pinched together like they usually are, just as his ever-present frown is gone; it's place taken by a calm expression that reminds you of the gentle boy he tries so hard not to be. it almost hurts you to see him this calm, only to then face the days where he hides everything that makes him vulnerable. it makes you want to hold him in times like these and beg the world for the cocoon of peace to never pass.

your hand predictably drifts to trace along his jaw until your fingers curl with the coils of his hair deftly, twirling the strands idly as you lovingly examine every inch of his softest state.

you're laying on your back with your head tilted to watch coriolanus beside you when a bird chirps somewhere outside, and you feel the slightest twitch of his hand against where it's still half-wrapped around your waist. his eyes don't open immediately, but when they do they meet yours in a sleep-ridden look you can't begin to describe, but venture as far as to call it love.

he shifts under the covers, untangling from you almost entirely — save for his hand that now falls conveniently into your own, which neither of you address — to lie on his back beside you.

mornings like these are always silent, just lying together and pretending all that exists in the world is the breaths of the person beside you floating through the air.

there'd been a time when you'd told coriolanus what you think about early in the morning, and asked him what he finds himself thinking about. he hadn't immediately replied, in that moment he'd found he struggled to find the right words, until he'd replied — to your confession of gazing at your lover in the wee hours of the morning and thinking simple little thoughts of devotion — a quiet, "the same as you."

you think of this as you catch his gaze out of the corner of each other's eyes, and hold his hand just that little bit closer.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #tbosas x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes x reader #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games x you #the hunger games x y/n #thg x reader #❤︎ — the mockingjay sings

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ghouljams · 4 months

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Missing (part 2) Tags: Ghost x f!reader/f!oc, 1870s cowboy au, kidnapping, guns, violence, damsel not exactly in distress Summary: Ghost finds the men that took his wife, and is reminded exactly why he fell for her in the first place. Part 1

The gag is overkill.

Although you suppose after hours of your swearing and threats, the multiple people you've bitten, and all the spitting in your captor's faces, it's reasonable. They've had to change your bindings at least three times, your hands bound in front, then moved to being bound behind your back, now your legs roped together as well. Fuckers can barely tie a decent knot, it's their fault you keep getting loose. The fact that they've confidently left you without a blindfold is a wonder. You can't imagine what they have to be so sure of themselves over.

You rub your wrists against one of the rocks poking you in the back, working the rope over the rough surface. It's not the sharpest thing around, but then again neither is the asshole "watching" you. He learned to keep his hands to himself after the second time you headbutted him. Even dogs know what "no" means.

You narrow your eyes at him, glare as he levels his pistol on you and makes a faux firing noise. When you get your hands on him...

A commotion further up in the cave draws your attention. Gunshots and shouting are never a good sign. You turn your head to listen, eyeing the opening to your little prison area. You watcher looks confident, or at least looks like he's trying to be confident. Moron. You work your ropes a little faster and feel the knot come loose. A last tug and you have to hold back a sigh feeling the rope untangle and fall to the ground.

You make a noise to try and get your watch's attention, he glances at you before fixing his eyes back on the entrance. You let out an exasperated breath and try again, louder, and really glare at him to make your point. "Shut up," He tells you. You give your best impression of fear and scream behind your gag. You don't particularly care if whoever's outside hears you, but it makes your watch crouch in front of you and wave his gun for you to see. "If you don't shut up, I'll give you somethin' to scream about," He threatens, just long enough for you to smash your head into his nose.

When he reels back to clutch his nose you make a grab for his pistol. It's enough of a surprise to keep his grip loose, and you're quick to clock him with the butt of the gun as soon as it's in your hands. You hit his temple square on and the man crumbles to the side. Asshole. You tug your gag down around your neck and debate shooting the guy as you untie the knots holding your ankles together. You suppose you have more important problems, you concede grabbing the rifle leaned next to his chair.

You check that it's loaded and holster the pistol in your skirt as best you can. "You just stay there, I'm gonna go find a ride." You tell the, you think he's unconscious, man on the ground. He doesn't object.

The commotion at the mouth of the cave seems to have drawn most of the outlaws hiding out in it, but that doesn't stop you from running into the few cowards that are still in the back. You dispatch them quickly, your rifle raised as you move through the cave's tunnel. It's too bad cowards are slow shots, smart of them to carry extra ammunition though. You swipe one of their hats, since they so rudely tossed yours.

You reload as you move, eyes darting between your hands and your way out. It's not a big cave, but you're happy to know the way out. Not a big crew either you decide, shooting the first man to see you as you find yourself in the open air of the main cavern. You're happy to see a familiar silhouette in the midst of the chaos near the mouth of the cave. The setting sun gives your husband a nice unearthly glow to him. You smash your rifle into the gut of the man that tries to come up behind you, and shoot another just to clear your path. You're not particularly in the mood for being grabbed again.

"What took you so long?" You yell, watching Ghost shoot a man twice between the eyes.

"Was picking up your wedding gift," He yells back, voice rough from a lack of sleep. At least he still has the energy to make jokes and shoot straight. He stalks over to you, flipping his pistol to bash the butt into the temple of the first man to try and stop him.

"Hell of a honeymoon," You grumble, shaking your head. Ghost stops in front of you his eyes fixed on your growing smile. "Hey there pretty boy," You grin, he snorts.

"Darlin'," He greets you with a quick tip of his head, "got a horse waitin' if you're ready."

"Any of these fools have a bounty on 'em?" You ask, glancing around your husband to eye the corpses littering the cave.

"Couple," He tells you, holding your chin to turn your head, inspecting you for injuries, "You look good."

You hum, "Better than the guys who were watching me." Ghost's eyes crinkle behind his mask, brown and warmly affectionate. Your heart clenches in your chest, he looks so proud of you.

"Good." He tugs his mask up and you catch the quirk of his smile, the tug of the scars around his mouth, just before he kisses you.

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #x oc #cod x oc #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley cod #simon ghost riley x oc #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #cowboy!ghost #oc: goose #1870s!cowboy au #cowboy au #get their asses Goose

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nemosopenletters-blog · 21 days

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It finally clicked in my brain, that the reason you don't treat me like you treat others in your life, is because you love the others in your life. You love having them in your life. I've simply become the obligation you can't untangle yourself from.

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wheeboo · 24 days

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glowing | choi seungcheol

SYNOPSIS. in which waking up with your husband in the mornings is still something you will never get used to. PAIRING. husband!choi seungcheol x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, established relationship, suggestive undertones WARNINGS. vague mentions of sex, kissing, terms of endearment, cheol is shirtless sorry not sorry :') WORD COUNT. 1.02k

requested from anon: Congratulations on reaching 2k followers rania!! for the event I’d like to request a scoups 42 & 49 from the 1st list!! - #42: "You just have this glow about you." - #49: "Come back to bed."

notes: first fic of the event!! anon knew what they were doing selecting these prompts istg hehe i hope u all enjoy <3

join the 2k celebration!

The rays of the late morning cower over your eyelids, slowly but surely nudging you out of your slumber. Somehow, you manage to peek open one reluctant eye, a sliver at first, then wider as you take in the sight around you. The bedroom is bathed in a beautiful golden glow. Shadows of the trees outside dance playfully across the ceiling and walls. All of this is enough to coax the smallest of smiles on your face𑁋the first of many today, you think.

You attempt to move, but you don't get very far. And instead, your eyes trail over to the body right next to you, taking sight of your sleepy husband buried in deep within the sheets, an arm draped loosely over your body underneath the duvet. He's still shirtless. You notice from the way the morning light gently kisses the bare skin of his shoulders where the blanket has ridden down.

The room is quiet, except for the soft rhythm of Seungcheol's deep breathing and quiet snores, and it grants you all the opportunity to be able to admire how peaceful he looks right now. It gives you the urge to fall back to sleep as well, but honestly, you're really damn hungry, and someone needs to make breakfast, or brunch, or whatever time it is right now.

With a reluctant sigh, you carefully untangle yourself from the comfort of the covers and Seungcheol's warmth, the cool air of the room sending a shiver down your spine when you sit up in bed. You take a minute to stretch out the certain soreness to your limbs, a small tug at your lips when a remnant of the night before flashes through your mind, but you try to brush it off as you stand up to walk out of the bedroom.

"Where do you think you're going?"

The voice is deep and thick with sleep, and you freeze up just before reaching for the door. You turn to see Seungcheol propping himself up on one elbow, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips, peering at you with half-lidded, sleepy eyes. His hair falls across his forehead both messily and endearingly, and you feel a particular warmth bloom in your chest.

"I was just, uh..." You don't know why you suddenly feel so self-conscious under his gaze, even after he kissed, touched, and whispered praises against every inch of you last night. "...going to make some breakfast for us."

Seungcheol just chuckles, and you can't seem to tear your eyes away from the way the covers slip down a little more. "I'm not letting you get away so easily, you know."

"But Cheol𑁋"

"Come back to bed," he pleads calmly, simply, softly. "Please."

There's something about the way he's looking at you right now that makes your heart stammer in your chest. It's a look you know well. A look of fondness. A look that holds itself comfortably in the space between your ribs.

You wake up together literally every single day, but you don't know if you could ever get used to this overwhelming feeling of being adored. It's like being wrapped in a warm, secure, fuzzy blanket, yet it's not just around your body; it's around your heart too.

"Okay," You finally relent quietly, and you let out a hearty squeal the second you walk back to the bed and he tugs you by the hands to pull you back into bed, back into his arms. It feels like coming home, every time.

You find yourself on top of him when his lips meet yours in a soft, slow kiss that has those flutters erupting wildly in your stomach once again. You feel the way his hand comes to cradle the base of your neck to pull you closer as the kiss deepens ever so slightly.

Even when you pull away, he doesn't hesitate to litter a few small, appreciative kisses down to your neck and exposed collarbones, the low hums leaving his lips caressing over your skin so tenderly and affectionately. You sigh out his name again, and Seungcheol draws back to look at you.

He's staring at you again. Not that you don't mind, of course, but the heat growing in your face is practically impossible to ignore.

You let out a breathless exhale, biting down at your bottom lip sheepishly. "What?"

Seungcheol lets his eyes flicker over you once more, before a small smile spreads across his features. His hands trail down to plant themselves firmly at your waist, letting his thumbs gently tracing shapes at the skin there.

"You just have this glow about you," he points out. "It's ridiculously attractive."

You glance down at yourself for a second as if you're actually glowing, before back up at him even more shyly than before. "Stop it."

"I'm serious, sweetheart," Seungcheol just insists and leans in back close to your face, his words melting away the last of your defenses. "You're absolutely beautiful, and it's an honour to be able to tell you that every single morning for as long as I breathe. It's an honour to love you."

His words momentarily snap you back to all the times he's whispered those same words to you during the moments between the sheets, or in the light of day when you're out on a date or basking in the familiarity of staying home, and the world seems to brighten a little more each time.

And maybe, yes, it's just the sunlight shining on you that has you 'glowing', but that's not exactly the case in Seungcheol's eyes, and it's hard to put to words.

Everything about you𑁋from the tiniest hint of a lift to your lips, to the dilation and sparkle in your pupils, to just you and your presence altogether𑁋just seems to radiate across every corner and crevice of the room. And Seungcheol can feel it seep within his own bones and warm him from the inside out. It's a feeling he finds himself wanting to chase after every single day; just a feeling he finds only in you.

You're glowing because you're in love, to simply put.

I'm in love. You're in love.

This is love.

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ajortga · 26 days

Text

bear hugs

pairing: tara carpenter x pouty reader

summary: you can't fall asleep until your nestled in your girlfriends arms and kisses.

word count: 600+ (drabble)

It's been 30 minutes, and you can't sleep without feeling your girlfriend by your side.

"Y/N, I still have homework sunshine, I promise we can cuddle when I finish, it'll only take me 15 minutes."

A whine pasts your lips as you kick your feet on your bed, the only light from the salt lamps, fairy lights, and night light.

"Pleeeeaseeee"

She giggles, pressing her lips to your forehead, "Soon baby."

"Nooooo," you groan, sleepily as you twist and turn in bed, "Whyyy can't youuuu?"

"I just need to finish this baby, I'll almost be done," she coaxes, opening her laptop and clicking away.

You grunt putting on your most innocent look as your curled up into bed and watching her every move, "Pleaseeee? For me??.."

Tara doesn't even turn around, making you angry, well from this angle you just looked even cuter.

"It's not due till Wednesday, it's Monday. Tara baby pleasee it's not fairrrr.."

She hums, typing.

"You hate me," you say, getting out of bed and wrapping the blanket around you. You look like a grumpy child that got rejected from getting a stuffy at the toy store. You murmur angrily, making a small stomp before leaving the door. Tara hums.

Tara waited 5 small moments before she heard your footsteps and opened the door again, to see your tiny figure trod back to the bed, "Too cold, changed my mind." You say, voice a tiny as you don't look at Tara. Obviously mad.

A soft giggle past her lips, shaking her head as you flop into bed, groaning and complaining.

"I just want to cuddle with my girlfriend," you pout, stomping your leg and turning off your salt lamp. You turn away from her and cover yourself with a blanket, huffing. "Hmph, see if I care."

You care, too much. You had a bad day and you want your girlfriend who currently is not paying attention to you. You face the wall, arms crossed, "No fair."

You hear a sigh come out from her, her laptop immediately closing, "You know I can't say no to that," Tara whispers softly to herself. She slips on her t-shirt and some shorts as she crawls into bed, seeing the way your small figure wrapped in a blankety burrito. She untangles yourself from the blanket, seeing your tiny figure in a laced tank top and the fluffy heart pajama pants she gifted to you. Tara shuffles into the warmth of the blanket, seeing the way you shifted slightly.

"I'll cuddle with you," she whispers, pressing her lips to your ear and seeing the way you immediately turned around and scooted into her embrace, exhaling in happiness.

"Do that stupid assignment tomorrow, I can't sleep without you here," you say, looking sad as she plays with your hair and scratches your scalp, making you coo.

"Okay okay," she laughs breathily, "I'll ask Mindy to finish it, I know she took answers from Anika, but hush, you haven't been able to sleep for the past hour."

You murmur, breathing in her scent that immediately comforts you. A soft yawn passes your lips, "Because..." yawn "I can't fall asleep without my girlfriend.." your voice trails off, slowly growing sleepy.

"I know, but I'm here now, go to sleep," she whispers, kissing your lips softly before spooning you, you turn back around and nuzzle into her chest. She rubs circles behind your back, knowing the way it makes you fall asleep much quicker.

No longer than 3 minutes later does a soft snore sound throughout the room, making Tara smile and turn off the light before wrapping her arms around you and pulling you closer.

#vada cavell x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem!reader #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna marie ortega #vada cavell x y/n #jenna ortega imagine

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mitsies · 1 year

Text

-;, panda bear ; nagi seishiro > nagi can't help but be jealous of your stuffed toy.

nagi seishiro frowns at his phone. his teammates move and chatter around him, getting ready to go home after practice but he remains slouched against a wall with his shirt off and towel thrown haphazardly over his shoulder as he stares at your message.

it's a picture of you, and you look as pretty as ever. you're sitting on the couch of your shared living room with your laptop on your thighs, with what seems to be an essay displayed on the screen. the jumper you're wearing is big and evidently one of his.

yeah, yeah, you're gorgeous- that's not what's upsetting him. what really pisses nagi off is the stupid stuffed animal snuggled into your side.

it's a stuffed panda, the one nagi got you 2 years ago on your very first valentine's day together. he'd never really expected it to last as one of your favourite items in the world- and it didn't. only a few months later, you'd sadly reported that you could no longer find the plush toy. actually, this was much to nagi's benefit- it meant that you'd have more physical affections reserved for him, anyways.

but then, just recently, the both of you had moved in together, and in packing up your items the stuffed panda had resurfaced. at first, nagi didn't care. you were elated, good for you- it didn't bother him too much.

until the pictures started.

whenever nagi was gone for an extended period of time, you'd shoot him a selfie, or a .5 picture of you in the stuffed animal's company. sometimes you were working. others cooking, or about to fall asleep. and nagi couldn't understand why it made him so bitter.

"ay, nagi!" he looks up from his screen at reo's voice. "you gonna keep standing there like you're in an emo magazine shoot or are we going?"

"i'm coming," he replies, shoving his phone in his back pocket. as much as he dislikes that stupid stuffed panda, who was the recipient of your attentions much more than nagi was, it seemed, he'd much rather be home with you than anything else. that, and he had just concocted a plan.

you look up at the sound of the keys jingling outside the apartment door, and a grin grows on your face subconsciously. turning the heat off on the stove, you depart from your position in the kitchen and move to open it.

"hi, sei," you smile as your boyfriend steps into the doorway, "how was practice?"

his black duffle bag plops to the floor and his arms wrap around your waist. he smells like earth and salt but you don't mind too much, simply humming and moving your hands around his neck to run through his overgrown hair. his face finds its way to the crook of your neck and you feel him exhale.

"boring. i'm glad i'm here now."

"you always say it's boring."

"because it is."

with a light laugh, you untangle yourself from him, much to his discretion. "i've got dinner on the stove. go shower, you're gross."

he huffs and picks his bag back up before making his way to the bedroom. opening the door, nagi is greeted by none other than his sworn enemy- the panda bear.

he stares at it. its buttoned eyes look back. nagi thinks he sees demons swirling behind it. dropping the bag, he closes the bedroom door. this was going to get messy.

you're only slightly startled when you hear a thump coming from your bedroom. nagi was 20000 centimeters tall- he was prone to clumsiness at times. but then it happens again, and again, and again, and you think it would be really irresponsible for you to not check.

pushing aside the cutting board, you travel up the hallway to your shared bedroom. the door is closed, and when you push it open, you're greeted with the sight of nagi holding your large stuffed panda bear in a headlock.

his gaze snaps to you. you stare at him. "seishiro," you start slowly, "what the fuck?"

nagi makes no moves to explain himself, simply slowly shifting away from the stuffed bear. "um."

"why are you beating the shit out of a stuffed animal?"

he's plaintive in his response, putting a crack in your stern facade. "it deserved it."

"and why is that?"

"looked at me funny."

"i'm sure it did, with its button eyes. the ones that, y'know, can't move."

nagi edges his way to a standing position, before he picks up his bag again and begins removing his dirty clothes and putting them in the laundry bin as if nothing had happened.

you stand with your arms crossed over your chest in the doorway for a few beats, before a resigned sigh leaves you. "dinner will be ready in 5. please leave my stuffed animal alone."

"'kay."

you make your way back to the kitchen, and nagi locks eyes with the pair of buttons once more. now, it was really game on.

#nagi seishiro x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock #seishiro nagi x reader #seishiro nagi #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro #bllk x reader #reader insert

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adiluv · 1 month

Text

✦ : ❝ 𝐥'𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐨 !

꒰synopsis—wc꒱ in which you're dear to him. 415 words.

꒰warnings꒱ reader is a professor of the armed archeologists, self-indulgent fluff.

꒰adi moment꒱ honestly felt like that one stock image of the person breaking their chains while i was writing this—thank you dr. ratio for helping me actually break through my writer's block! ♡ anyway, hope you enjoy! ໒꒰ྀི ˆ ˘ ˆ꒱ྀི১

Despite the assumptions that one might make upon learning of your relationship with the self-declared "Mundanite," let it be known that Veritas Ratio is not a subtle lover. Far from it, really, at least when you get to know him.

And, for both better and worse, there doesn't exist another being within the universe that knows him just as intimately as you.

Undeniably arrogant, yet painstakingly obvious. Sharp-witted, with seemingly no care for the feelings of those around him, yet, in his own way, surprisingly caring of those plagued with misfortune. He says what he means and means what he says, if only because he cannot bear the inefficacy of beating around the bush, yet it means little when most find themselves in desperate need of a dictionary while attempting to converse with him.

It's contradictory, to say the least. Hypocritical, even, given just how misaligned these traits are. But such is the nature of the man you call yours, a decision that elicits both confusion and envy from students and staff alike.

Admittingly, however, it's rather difficult to bring yourself to care.

You can't, really, as the depths of his adoration become increasingly transparent over the course of your unlikely romance. As the walls he'd devotedly built come crashing down before your bright eyes, alabaster head all but abandoned as he embraces your presence, almost akin to a flower that turns to embrace the Sun's warmth.

No, you can't when he rushes to seek you out the moment his classes come to an end, muscular arms wrapped firmly around your waist as while you grade exams, chin resting atop your shoulder as he scolds the never-ending idiocy of his students. When he comes to dub you as his third panacea, mind and soul wholly entranced by your love, leaving him uncharacteristically tense whenever you're called away for an expedition.

Because it's practically impossible to care when you visit his home after returning, chatting with the man while he works on his latest sculpture only to find that its features come to resemble your own as the evening progresses. When he awakens the next morning, long before dawn, carefully untangling your bodies as he prepares to depart for his daily workout.

When, right before leaving, he presses a chaste kiss to your temple, half-asleep mind barely cognizant enough to understand the words he whispers against your skin.

"Σημαίνεις τόσα πολλά για μένα."

... He's not subtle. Not at all. ♡

꒰𝟏.꒱ "Σημαίνεις τόσα πολλά για μένα." — "You mean so much to me."

i have a taglist, which you can sign up for here!

#꒰📍꒱﹕my writing ⋆#gn reader #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail dr ratio #honkai star rail veritas ratio #dr ratio hsr #veritas ratio hsr #dr ratio #veritas ratio #dr ratio x reader #veritas ratio x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail drabbles #hsr drabbles #honkai star rail fanfic #hsr fanfic

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churipu · 4 months

Note

FIRST EVER REQUEST. WOOHOO!!

Id like to request jjk men with a reader that has atrociously long hair, like super duper long hair please.

(eg. do some get mad becuz the hair is everywhere. Do some help you make your hair)

I hope your taking care of yourself and staying healthy and hydrated <3 mwah mwah

JJK MEN + PARTNER WHO HAS LONG HAIR

featuring. gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, choso kamo x reader

warnings. cursing (toji)

note. hi nonnieee, congrats on your first request mwah mwah. as a person who used to have ATROCIOUSLY long hair — some people weren't happy, including me (which is why i decided to chop it off >:() and nonnie baby, i hope you're also taking care of yourself <33 also, i'm gonna be closing the requests as of now while i try to finish the other requests, and it will be opened back if everything is done! thank you.

GOJO SATORU. loves your hair, no questions asked. he loves playing with your hair if you both are just chilling in the house, the male always tries to look up easy hairstyles to do for beginners — which never ends up good.

gojo once got your hair stuck in a brush because he was too focused in watching the tutorial, and he contemplated chopping your hair off. but you threatened him, and so he spent approximately one and a half hour to untangle your hair.

after that day, he never tried a new hairstyle in fear of doing something wrong again. but he still and does play with your hair, twirling it around his slender fingers and caressing it — sometimes he helps you with drying your hair after a shower, and he helps on your hair care routine.

"so i just put the tonic on? how much should i put? four dose of pipettes?" he asks you, looking at the small pipette in confusion.

"baby, no— just four squeezes are enough." you informed, a bit worried about your hair now; but the male did extremely well, even giving your scalp a quick massage.

"did i do good? can i do it again next time, please please?" he asks you, pulling you into his chest, "it's fun, i'm like your personal hairdresser."

you rolled your eyes, "sure, sure. free of charge, right?"

the male rolled his eyes, "of course not, there's a price to it. i get a kiss after, one for the tonic, one for the massage. deal?" he proposed, planting a sloppy kiss on your lips.

"i like that deal. deal."

TOJI FUSHIGURO. he hates it. on certain occasions — absolutely despises your hair when you're both cuddling, it gets into his face, his eyes, his mouth, everywhere where he doesn't want it to be. but out of that, he's perfectly fine with it.

"ah, fuck— doll, 'm going to cut your hair one of these days and make it look like an accident," he groans out, gently brushing your hair aside as your back was pressed onto his chest.

"cut my hair, and i'll cut this relationship short."

toji chuckles, pressing a light kiss on the area between your neck and shoulder, "you're mean," he mumbles into your skin.

as much as he said he'd cut it (as a joke), he'd find your hair really fun to play with sometimes; and his fingers would reach out to the edges of your hair, playing with it while his eyes are focused elsewhere. during movie nights, he'd be unaware of his lingering fingers in your hair as he watches; you didn't mind though, letting his hand just roam in your hair until the movie ends.

the male looks intrigued by your hair care routine, toji would always be there to watch you put care into your hair. sometimes offering to do it, and when he messes up he asks you to take over because he was scared of ruining your beautiful hair.

"ah, shit. i can't do it baby, you take over." he mutters out in annoyance, sliding the hair tonic over to you after failing to pump in the right amount of liquid into the pipette from his strong grip.

the male looks up hairstyles and sends the link to you, asking: "can you try this hairstyle, wanna see you in it." and is never disappointed with the result.

he makes himself the small spoon so your hair wouldn't get in his face — not that he's complaining, he likes being held by you.

"what're you doing, toji?" you asked in confusion, seeing the male curled up in bed.

"being the small spoon," he mumbles out.

and from then on, he is now the small spoon (he loves it, but would never admit it, telling you that it's just because of your hair).

CHOSO KAMO. he is the best at doing hairstyles, especially pig tails. choso is so delicate with your hair, treating every strand like they're his own. and he was the first one to offer to do your hair when he sees you slightly struggling with trying out a new hairstyle.

he would be independent to look up new hairstyles and come to you, asking if he could try doing your hair.

"hi y/n," he appears behind the bedroom door, peeking slightly with a small smile, "can i do your hair?"

when you tell him yes, he gets so happy and skips on the bed. telling you to sit down in front of him while he follows the tutorial patiently — and when he's done, he's always giddy to hear your reaction to his work. such a cutie.

"cho, this looks really pretty, thank you," you kissed his forehead, and the male shyly smiles at you.

choso sees you putting on a lot of things on your hair after a shower and he began looking up hair care routines on the internet, how to do them step by step, remembering everything so he could be the one doing your hair care routine for you.

"baby, baby! i wanna do your hair care routine," he tells you, tugging your hand with a smile on his face.

you, of course, let him. trusting him with it — and choso delivers perfectly, doing the steps you usually do with the right amount of things. it makes him really happy when you tell him thank you and awarded him with a kiss or two.

choso loves and adores your hair, he treats it like his own.

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