Tumgik
#bottle spirit society
bottlespiritsociety · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
Oh hello there! I’m Cait, one of the members of the Society for the Safekeeping and Study of Bottle Spirits, or SSBS for short! Though, I suppose most folks know us as The Bottle Spirit Society.
I’ve been recently elected to be the head of our Adoptions Department, so I’ll be letting you fine folks know about all bottle spirits we come across that are looking for new homes, as well as facts and observations about these amazing little creatures!
For instance, this little fellow here is what's known as a Kerchief Spirit- they are avid little collectors and are quite fond of hiding in Big Folk's homes! If you have a bookshelf that's gathering dust, or a junk drawer full of odds and ends, chances are you might have a Kerchief Spirit residing in there!
Oh but I could go on for days- I'm so excited to help these little creatures find loving homes!
2 notes · View notes
conjuremanj · 9 months
Text
Pics From New Orleans Voodoo House's & Shops.
Hey guys I went back home to check out some voodoo / hoodoo altars and to get some ideas for myself, I even ended up making a spirit bottle for my self enjoy.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
(left) A bottle I made of St. Michael aka Papa Ogou wit Ogun Statue. (Right) Other spirit bottles.
Tumblr media
Papa Legba altar. ☝️
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Ogou/ Ogun altars.
Tumblr media
La Syrenn altar (below) & Yemaya Orisha altar (above)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Muilty purpose New Orleans voodoo altar (left) Gede Painting (right)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pics I took of a Gede altar
Tumblr media Tumblr media
More pics I took of the Gede altar wit Papa Gede & Gran Brigitte.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Another Gede altar pic I took (left)
4 notes · View notes
occultwaters · 2 months
Text
Painful placements in astrology I
💜 Sun square/conjunct/opposite/inconjunct (quincunx) Pluto. Inconjunctions should be maximum 2/3 degrees. If I see this in a natal chart it would indicate to me that the native has had issues with their father or figures with authority in general. Could also be men in their family. I have also noticed the fathers side of the family were absent, early on they could have been separated. The separation could be due to many threats. If not cultivated well, this aspect is common amongst serial killers and people notorious for being bullies.
💙 Moon square/conjunct/opposite/inconjunct (quincunx) Pluto. Inconjunctions should be maximum 2/3 degrees. Now this would indicate a person who has issues with the mother figure in their family. This could also indicate issues with the women figures in their life. These people are also very distant with their mother’s side of the family. Like harsh Pluto and Sun, they were separated early on. Which again potentially could’ve been due to threats to their safety in general. If not cultivated well, this can lead to mental health issues, especially those relating to Pluto. Dark obsessions and desires etc.
💜 Having square placements to personal planets, this alone is very hard to deal with as there is strong friction no matter which side you look at. These people need to work on the aspect and appropriately release the energy, depending on the house, sign, and degree.
💙 Pluto in 12th. These individuals harbour a lot of their trauma in the subconscious. They have probably also seen some crazy things in the spirit world. It’s like they attract that sort of attention without really meaning to aswell. These individuals may also have very disturbing dreams and sleep paralysis.
💜 Saturn/Uranus/Chiron in 11th. This is a constant cycle of feeling alienated from society. These people may feel like they never found their group of friends. They crave for a home they’ve never had. These are also the type of people who have had friends make secret group chats behind their back and never include them. Just because Uranus is at home here, doesn’t make it any easier. This is also true if these placements are in Aquarius.
Tumblr media
💙 Harsh Venus and Saturn aspect (square, opposition, inconjunction). Or Venus in Capricorn/aquarius. These people were made to feel unworthy of love and care when they were younger. There’s a constant battle between loving oneself and self destructive behaviours. There is an imbalance with their feminine side, due to masculine/ figures of authority, making them feel like they weren’t good enough.
💜 Harsh Moon and Venus aspects (square, opposition, inconjunction). Again made to feel like they weren’t pretty enough and probably dealt with a lot of toxicity from maternal figures. There is also an imbalance with their feminine side due to issues with women, and maternal figures. These people also a lot of the times refuse to acknowledge their emotions and bottle things up a lot.
💙 Having inconjunctions/quincunx aspects. They need to be at a maximum 2/3 degree orb. This is similar to opposition. But the difference here is that two signs that have no similarity are making a harsh aspect. There’s bound to be heat and constant internal conflict. This one is about learning to balance the scale of energies from both areas.
💜 8th house placements. These people are constantly undergoing transformations in their life. They can easily leave everyone on delivered for months and when they return, they are no longer the same person. Then the cycle repeats. There’s a lot of trauma in these people’s lives, and a lot of it comes from family. But they’re also naturally talented when it comes to things like the occult. This aspect is powerful for astrologers as it gives the native the talent to deeply study and observe people for long periods of time. This also includes psychology.
💙 Saturn opposite/square/inconjunct Pluto. Again inconjunctions should be maximum 2/3 degrees to be truly felt. This is more of a generational aspect (may reflect the society more so). These individuals dad could carry some sort of deep trauma. This is a pretty heavy energy so will require a lot of work for the generation that has this. In addition, the themes of the abuse they dealt with surround feeling restricted from expressing oneself in regards to what Pluto represents. They seem like the sheep or the scape goat of the family. Also if they have siblings that don’t have a similar aspect, if they make a mistake, the punishment they receive can be harsher than if their sibling was to make the same mistake. Their dad/ authority figures in their family can also be/ may have been involved in the dark side of structured systems and have a lot of experience and knowledge regarding the world from that.
© 2024 occultwaters. All rights reserved.
💜💙💜💙💜💙💜💙💜💙💜💙
Tumblr media
735 notes · View notes
16woodsequ · 8 months
Text
100 Asexual Books Rec List
For this list the goal is fiction books with a main character or significant secondary character that is on the Asexual spectrum, or non-fiction books about being Aspec.
Junior Novels
1. Rick by Alex Gino An eleven year old boy starting middle school begins discovering his asexuality admist the school's rainbow spectrum club. Also features transgender and crossdressing side characters, as well as a LGBTQIAP+ supporting cast.
2. Sal & Gabi Break the Universe by Carlos Alberto Pablo Hernandez In order to heal after his mother's death, Sal learned how to meditate. But no one expected him to be able to take it further and 'relax' things into existence. Turns out he can reach into time and space to retrieve things from other universes. Asexual Sal.
3. Hazel's Theory of Evolution by Lisa Jenn Bigelow Hazel knows a lot about the world. But even Hazel doesn't have answers for the questions awaiting her as she enters eighth grade. What if no one at her new school gets her, and she doesn't make any friends? What's going to happen to one of her moms, who's pregnant again after having two miscarriages? Why does everything have to change when life was already perfectly fine? Hazel (main character) is asexual and aromantic (it isn't said in the book, but it is specified in the author's note at the back of the book).
4. The Trouble with Robots by Michelle Mohrweis Evelyn strives for excellence. Allie couldn't care less. Together, these polar opposites must work together if they have any hope of saving their school's robotics program. Allie is asexual and/or aromantic. Junior graphic novel.
5. This is Our Rainbow by Editors Katherine Locke and Nicole Melleby Featuring contributions from Eric Bell, Katherine Locke and A.J. Sass, this first LGBTQA+ anthology for middle-grade readers presents stories of queer fantasy, historical and contemporary stories for every letter of the acronym.
6. Every Bird a Prince by Jenn Reese After she saves the life of a bird prince and becomes their champion, seventh grader Eren Evers must defend a forest kingdom, save her mom, and keep the friendships she holds dear--if she is brave enough to embrace her inner truths. Eren is aromantic (and I'm guessing asexual, though that isn't discussed).
YA Fiction
7. When Villains Rise by Rebecca Schaeffer With her best friend, Kovit's, life in danger, Nita is determined to take down the black market once and for all. Latina asexual and aromantic main character (Nita).
8. The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue by Mackenzi Lee Henry "Monty" Montague was bred to be a gentleman. His passions for gambling halls, late nights spent with a bottle of spirits, or waking up in the arms of women or men, have earned the disapproval of his father. His quest for pleasures and vices have led to one last hedonistic hurrah as Monty, his best friend and crush Percy, and Monty's sister Felicity begin a Grand Tour of Europe. When a reckless decision turns their trip abroad into a harrowing manhunt, it calls into question everything Monty knows, including his relationship with the boy he adores. Aro/ace secondary character (prequel to a Lady's Guide to Petticoats and Piracy).
9. The Lady's Guide to Petticoats and Piracy by Mackenzi Lee A year after an accidentally whirlwind grand tour with her brother Monty, Felicity Montague has returned to England with two goals in mind—avoid the marriage proposal of a lovestruck suitor from Edinburgh and enroll in medical school. A highly loved book in regards to asexual portrayal, Felicity’s journey does a fantastic job of exploring the struggle of navigating a world where marriage is expected of women in order to function in society. Even more refreshing is Felicity isn’t just avoiding getting married out of a sole rebellion against the patriarchy (though those themes are also present), but simply because she doesn’t have an interest in sexual or romantic relationships at all.
10. Silver in the Mist by Emily Victoria Asexual Devlin has grown up in the shadow of her mother’s impressive spy network—and the shadow of the kingdom, too. A magical mist is eating away at their borders, weakening their magic and making them vulnerable to attacks. Devlin is tasked with infiltrating the royal court of the wealthier neighboring kingdom, but when she befriends their most powerful magic wielder, she discovers an ancient mystery that may hold the key to defeating the mists for good. Victoria prioritizes strong friendships between queer characters and an examination of wealth disparity in this fantasy full of twists and turns.
11. Not Good for Maidens by Tori Bovalino Beneath the streets of York, the goblin market calls to the Wickett women-the family of witches that tends to its victims. For generations, they have defended the old cobblestone streets with their magic. Knowing the dangers, they never entered the market-until May Wickett fell for a goblin girl, accepted her invitation, and became inextricably tied to the world her family tried to protect her from. Told through dual narratives in different timelines, the book essentially has two protagonists: Lou and May. Between these two characters, we have some great queer representation for both asexuality and bisexuality.
12. A Snake Falls to Earth by Darcie Little Badger Themes of magic, family, asexuality, and traditional storytelling dominate in Lipan Apache author Darcie Little Badger's delightful and uplifting second YA novel. A Lipan girl named Nina collides with Oli who is from the land of spirits and monsters. But some people will do anything to keep them apart. This is a wholesome, elegantly written read guaranteed to warm your heart! 
13. Arden Grey by Ray Stoeve Arden Grey is a novel about different kinds of abusive relationships, as well as the strength of family and friendships. Following her parents' separation, Arden is depressed and coming to accept herself as being on the asexual spectrum.
14. It Sounds Like This by Anna Meriano Yasm Trevi didn't have much of a freshman year thanks to Hurricane Humphrey, but she's ready to take sophomore year by storm. That means mastering the marching side of marching band--fast!--so she can outshine her BFF Sofia as top of the flute section, earn first chair, and impress both her future college admission boards and her comfortably unattainable drum major crush Gilberto Reyes. But Yasm steps off on the wrong foot when she reports an anonymous gossip Instagram account harassing new band members and accidentally gets the entire low brass section suspended from extracurriculars. Rep: Biracial Latina fat asexual-questioning cis female MC, Jewish gray-aromantic gray-asexual male side character with ADHD and APD.
15. One for All by Lillie Lainoff In 1655 sixteen-year-old Tania is the daughter of a retired musketeer, but she is afflicted with extreme vertigo and subject to frequent falls; when her father is murdered she finds that he has arranged for her to attend Madame de Treville's newly formed Acadaemie des Mariées in Paris, which, it turns out, is less a school for would-be wives, than a fencing academy for girls--and so Tania begins her training to be a new kind of musketeer, and to get revenge for her father. Rep: disability, asexuality, sapphic side characters, POTS and PTSD.
16. The State of Us by Shaun David Hutchinson When Dean Arnault’s mother decided to run for president, it wasn’t a surprise to anyone, least of all her son. But still that doesn’t mean Dean wants to be part of the public spectacle that is the race for the White House—at least not until he meets Dre. The only problem is that Dre Rosario’s on the opposition; he’s the son of the Democratic nominee. In a moment of solidarity and high emotions, Dean tells Dre that he has been questioning his sexual orientation. He isn’t sure if he’s asexual or demisexual. Dre puts a messaging app on Dean’s phone so they can stay in touch.
17. Scavenge the Stars by Tara Sim When Amaya rescues a mysterious stranger from drowning, she fears her rash actions have earned her a longer sentence on the debtor ship where she’s been held captive for years. Instead, the man she saved offers her unimaginable riches and a new identity, setting Amaya on a perilous course through the coastal city-state of Moray, where old-world opulence and desperate gamblers collide. Amaya wants one thing: revenge against the man who ruined her family and stole the life she once had. Desi, demisexual female protagonist. 
18. Camp by Lev AC Rosen It’s Randy’s fifth year at Camp Outland, a camp where queer teens get a chance to be themselves. Hoping to win over Hudson’s heart—who’s masc and straight passing and only seems to date other guys like himself—Randy has spent the past year reinventing himself: workout regimen, new haircut, new carefully curated wardrobe. His friends and camp counsellor all think it’s a terrible idea, but what can they do but support him anyways?
19. Little Thieves by Margaret Owen Once upon a time, the daughter of death and fortune was a teenage girl and she was the worst. Little Thieves is, as the dedication says, for the gremlin girls, never has there been a more gremlin girl than Vanja Schmidt. A brilliant and brazen swindler, Vanja could give Kaz Brekker a run for his money. But Vanja has bigger fish to fry. As her body rapidly turns into the gemstones she craves, Vanja must put things right and face her greed head on all while juggling her engagement to a terrible margrave, an investigator with his own magic, and the princess whose face she stole. Vanja’s relationship with junior prefect Emeric could not be more demisexual if it tried, with both sides of the romance experiencing asexual spectrum existence in different and complimentary ways. One part Germanic fairytale, one part ensemble heist, Little Thieves is an unhinged romp of a book.
20. Everyone Hates Kelsie Miller by Meredith Ireland Rom-coms and the asexuality spectrum...two great things that go great together. Kelsie and Eric have been competing against each other their whole lives. But desperation forces them to work together. Kelsie’s best friend stopped talking to her and Eric wants to rekindle his relationship with his ex-girlfriend, and since both will be at UPenn at the same time, Eric and Kelsie decide to go on a road trip together. Sparks fly.
21. You Don't Have a Shot by Racquel Marie Valentina "Vale" Castillo-Green's life revolves around soccer. Her friends, her future, and her father's intense expectations are all wrapped up in the beautiful game. But after she incites a fight during playoffs with her long-time rival, Leticia Ortiz, everything she's been working toward seems to disappear. Queer asexual biracial (Colombian, Irish) protagonist.
22. Foul Lady Fortune by Chloe Gong In 1931 Shanghai, two Nationalist spies pose as a married couple to investigate a series of brutal murders causing unrest in the city. Rep: demisexual Chinese protagonist, bisexual Chinese protagonist, bisexual Chinese main character, Chinese trans woman main character, aromantic asexual side character; (Chinese-Kiwi author).
23. The Spy with the Red Ballon by Katherine Locke Siblings Ilse and Wolf hide a deep secret in their blood: with it, they can work magic. And the government just found out. Blackmailed into service during World War II, Ilse lends her magic to America’s newest weapon, the atom bomb, while Wolf goes behind enemy lines to sabotage Germany’s nuclear program. It’s a dangerous mission, but if Hitler were to create the bomb first, the results would be catastrophic. Gay demisexual Jewish protagonist.
24. Beneath the Citadel by Destiny Soria Cassa, the orphaned daughter of rebels, and friends Alys, Evander, and Newt, fight back against the high council of Eldra, which has ruled for centuries based solely on ancient prophesies. Alys, an apothecary-in-training and the level-headed one of the crew. She identifies as asexual.
25. Eliza and Her Monsters by Francesca Zappia Eighteen-year-old Eliza Mirk is the anonymous creator of the wildly popular webcomic Monstrous Sea, but when a new boy at school tempts her to live a life offline, everything she's worked for begins to crumble. Asexual main character, not explicitly stated in the book.
26. Technically, You Started It by Lana Wood Johnson When a guy named Martin Nathaniel Munroe II texts you, it should be obvious who you're talking to. Except there's two of them (it's a long story), and Haley thinks she's talking to the one she doesn't hate. Demisexual main character.
27. Now Entering Addamsville by Francesca Zappia Zora Novak is framed for a crime she didn't commit--in a town obsessed with ghosts, will she be able to find the culprit and clear her name before it's too late? It's a brief mention, but Zora is ace.
28. Fully Disclosure by Camryn Garrett In a community that isn’t always understanding, an HIV-positive teen must navigate fear, disclosure, and radical self-acceptance when she falls in love–and lust–for the first time. One of Simone’s best friends in the book, Claudia, is an asexual lesbian. The unwavering support she gives to Simone is heartwarming, and she is also openly sex-positive—which flips the script on its head regarding what most people would assume of asexual people.
30. The Art of Saving the World by Corinne Duyvis When Hazel Stanczak was born, an interdimensional rift tore open near her family’s home, which prompted immediate government attention. They soon learned that if Hazel strayed too far, the rift would become volatile and fling things from other dimensions onto their front lawn—or it could swallow up their whole town. Hazel Stanczak identifies as asexual, though she spends time in the book questioning it. The book presents a unique way to show that there is not one single way to be asexual—that it exists on a spectrum and can look different for each person.
31. Let's Talk About Love by Claire Kann Alice had her whole summer planned. Non-stop all-you-can-eat buffets while marathoning her favorite TV shows (best friends totally included) with the smallest dash of adulting–working at the library to pay her share of the rent. The only thing missing from her perfect plan? Her girlfriend (who ended things when Alice confessed she’s asexual). Alice is done with dating–no thank you, do not pass go, stick a fork in her, done. Alice is a biromantic and asexual black woman who starts off very confident in her identity as asexual, yet has experiences that have her questioning her orientation and how to talk about it.
32. In the Ravenous Dark by AdriAnne Strickland A pansexual blood mage reluctantly teams up with an undead spirit to start a rebellion among the living and the dead. This book features Japha, an asexual nonbinary character who serves as the best friend to the MC.
33. Seven Ways We Lie by Riley Redgate Life at Paloma High School is much like any other high school, with petty drama, judgmental assholes, and mind-numbing schoolwork. Until it isn’t. A scandal emerges: a student and teacher had an illicit affair. At the center of the scandal are seven teenagers, each with their own secrets, whose lives are transformed as a result of this scandal. One of the characters can be read as asexual (and possibly neurodiverse). He never explicitly labels himself as such, but the way he describes his experiences of [non-]attraction strongly point to him being on the ace spectrum.
34. Quicksilver by R. J. Anderson Tori thought she had left her past behind when she and her family started a new life in a new city. But then Sebastian Faraday reappears in her life to tell her that she’s not quite as safe as she thinks: the relay is still operating and a genetics lab is trying to track her down to figure out the secret behind her unusual biology. Tori is going to have to use all of her considerable technical expertise to escape her past and live the normal human life she’s always wanted to have. Asexual main character.
35. Hullmetal Girls by Emily Skrutskie Aisha Un-Haad, seventeen, and Key Tanaka, eighteen, have risked everything for new lives as mechanically enhanced soldiers, and when an insurrection forces dark secrets to surface, the fate of humanity is in their hands. In Hullmetal Girls, Aisha is not only ace/aro but she is also happy with her identity. Crucially, so is everyone else.
36. Not Even Bones by Rebecca Schaeffer Nita's mother hunts monsters and, after Nita dissects and packages them, sells them online, but when Nita follows her conscience to help a live monster escape, she is sold on the black market in his place. Aro/Ace main character
37. Before I Let Go by Marieke Nijkamp When Corey moves away from Lost Creek, Alaska, she makes her friend Kyra promise to stay strong during the long, dark winter, and wait for her return. Just days before Corey is to return home to visit, Kyra dies. The entire Lost community speaks in hushed tones, saying her death was meant to be. And they push Corey away like she's a stranger. With every hour, Corey's suspicion grows. Lost is keeping secrets-- but piecing together the truth about what happened to her best friend may prove as difficult as lighting the sky in an Alaskan winter. Aro/Ace main character.
38. If It Makes You Happy by Claire Kann Winnie is living her best fat girl life and is on her way to the best place on earth. No, not Disneyland–her Granny’s diner, Goldeen’s, in the small town of Misty Haven. While there, she works in her fabulous 50’s inspired uniform, twirling around the diner floor and earning an obscene amount of tips. With her family and ungirlfriend at her side, she has everything she needs for one last perfect summer before starting college in the fall. …until she becomes Misty Haven’s Summer Queen in a highly anticipated matchmaking tradition that she wants absolutely nothing to do with. Aro/ace secondary character.
39. Dread Nation by Justina Ireland An alternate history where the Civil War was put on hold when zombies started to rise. Almost finished with her education at Miss Preston's School of Combat in Baltimore, Jane is set on returning to her Kentucky home and doesn't pay much mind to the politics of the eastern cities, with their talk of returning America to the glory of its days before the dead rose.But when families around Baltimore County begin to go missing, Jane is caught in the middle of a conspiracy, one that finds her in a desperate fight for her life against some powerful enemies. And the restless dead, it would seem, are the least of her problems. The word asexual is not used, but that fits with the setting, and the explanation goes into a fair amount of detail, also ruling out that she likes women instead.
40. Vespertine by Margaret Rogerson When her convent is attacked by possessed soldiers, Artemisia defends the Gray Sisters by awakening the revenant bound to a saint's relic, even though she runs the risk of being possessed permanently by the powerful ancient spirit. Non-explicit romantic asexual main character. Fantasy.
41. Archivist Wasp by Nicole Kornher-Stace A postapocalyptic ghosthunter escapes her dire fate by joining the ghost of a supersoldier on his quest to the underworld Aromantic asexual main character. Dark fantasy/dystopian.
42. Summer of Salt by Katrina Leno While anyone would love to have a bit of magic, what happens when magic turns dark? Georgina Fernweh will come into her magic someday soon. Before she does, Georgina faces a tragedy that tests the islanders' trust. In this book, Georgina’s best friend Vira is aroace, and it’s addressed somewhat in the story at different points. There is a sweet strength between Georgina and Vira, full of loyalty and support that is lovely to see.
43. The Summer of Bitter and Sweet by Jen Ferguson In this moving and complex narrative, Lou learns to draw boundaries, stand up for herself, all while coming to terms with her demisexuality.
44. The Sound of Stars by Alechia Dow One-third of the human population has died and now the world is about to end. Ellie, a fat, Black, disabled, demisexual girl with access to an illegal library teams up with a music-loving alien to risk their lives to save the world.
45. The Grimrose Girls by Laura Pohl Pohl serves up a veritable smorgasbord of queer fairytale goodies in Grimrose Girls. This tale as old as time follows four students at the prestigious boarding school Grimrose Academy—Ella, Yuki, Rory, and newcomer Nani. When the former three’s best friend dies, all four girls are swept up in a dark and twisted mystery full of old fairytale magic. They must work together to unravel the secrets between them and break an ancient curse that dooms them to a fairytale ending (and not the fun kind). Yuki’s aromantic asexual identity is explored in her relationship to expectations, beauty, and friendship throughout the novel.
46. Radio Silence by Alice Oseman Frances has been a study machine with one goal. Nothing will stand in her way; not friends, not a guilty secret – not even the person she is on the inside. Then Frances meets Aled, and for the first time, she’s unafraid to be herself. So when the fragile trust between them is broken, Frances is caught between who she was and who she longs to be. In this book, Aled identifies as demisexual while Frances identifies as bisexual. The story really pays homage to the importance of friendship, and romantic storylines move to the background in a way we don’t often get in YA literature.
47. This Golden Flame by Emily Victoria Forced to serve her country’s ruling group, Karis wants nothing more than to find her brother. But family bonds don’t matter to the sole focus of unlocking the magic of an ancient automaton army. Karis is ace and other LGBTQ+ characters are introduced throughout.
48. Sawkill Girls by Claire Legrand A horror novel centered around three girls facing off against an unseen monster that preys upon the young women of the island of Sawkill Rock. Features a black asexual girl fresh out of a romantic relationship, as well as a f/f relationship.
49. Love Letters for Joy by Melissa See Less than a year away from graduation, seventeen-year-old Joy is too busy overachieving to be worried about relationships. She’s determined to be Caldwell Prep’s first disabled valedictorian. And she only has one person to beat, her academic rival Nathaniel. But it’s senior year and everyone seems to be obsessed with pairing up. One of her best friends may be developing feelings for her and the other uses Caldwell’s anonymous love-letter writer to snag the girl of her dreams. Joy starts to wonder if she has missed out on a quintessential high school experience. She is asexual, but that’s no reason she can’t experience first love, right?
50. Not Your Backup by C. B. Lee Part 3 in the Sidekick Squad series by C.B. Lee. Follows a questioning aromantic asexual latinx superhero sidekick fighting to prove her worth on the team despite her lack of superpowers, all admist the team's battle against the corrupt League of Heroes.
51. Belle Révolte by Linsey Miller Noble-born Emilie des Marais, 16, wants to become a physician, a role usually forbidden women of her class because of the corruptive toll the magical "noonday arts" exact. Common-born Annette Boucher wants to escape her domineering parents and master the less physically costly "midnight arts" of illusions, divination, and scrying, normally reserved for those who can afford the expensive education. At Emilie's urging, each girl takes the other's place. Miller (Ruin of Stars) writes in lush, dense prose that can require a careful read, but her protagonists' awareness of privilege and desire to challenge the status quo shines through. LGBTQ representation--including gay, trans, and nonbinary characters (Annette identifies as asexual biromantic)--further widens this tale's appeal.
52. Tarnished Are the Stars by Rosiee Thor A secret beats inside Anna Thatcher's chest: an illegal clockwork heart. Anna works cog by cog -- donning the moniker Technician -- to supply black market medical technology to the sick and injured, against the Commissioner's tyrannical laws. Determined to earn his father's respect, Nathaniel sets out to capture the Technician. But the more he learns about the outlaw, the more he questions whether his father's elusive affection is worth chasing at all. This YA novel features an aroace character gradually coming to accept his orientation in the midst of everything else that is happening in his life. Perfect for older teens who also enjoy WLW representation and dark themes.
53. Aces Wild: A Heist by Amanda DeWitt An all-asexual online friend group attempts to break into a high-stakes gambling club and commit a heist together. Includes a male asexual character navigating what love looks like for him, an aromantic asexual Latinx gender-nonconforming boy, a Vietnamese American and German asexual nonbinary teen, and a black asexual girl.
54. Planning Perfect by Haley Neil Summer vacation quickly becomes complicated for Felicity Becker as she tries to plan a perfect wedding for her mom, figure out her feelings for her friend Nancy, and wonder what dating will look like for her as an asexual person.
55. Ace of Hearts by Myriad Augustine Everyone around Alvin seems to be obsessed with one thing-- sex. Alvin finds it uncomfortable to think and talk about it and he knows he isn't ready and may never be. His friends, however, think that all Alvin needs is to hook up with the right guy. But the closer Alvin gets to being physical with someone, the more he's uncertain that this is for him and he begins to wonder if he's asexual. Can Alvin find the love that's right for him?
56. Beyond the Black Door by AdriAnne Strickland Everyone has a soul. Some are beautiful gardens, others are frightening dungeons. Kamia comes to know more about her identity as she decides to battle the forces of evil, no matter the cost... Asexual and demi-romantic main characters. Dark fantasy. Kamai is asexual, but isn’t aromantic—she has an interest in relationships that isn’t always depicted for those who are ace.
57. Loveless by Alice Oseman A queer coming of age story featuring a romance obsessed aromantic asexual main character discovering her sexuality and coming to terms with what that means, and a variety of other queer characters that support her on her journey.
58. Summer Bird Blue by Akemi Dawn Bowman Rumi Seto spends a lot of time worrying she doesn’t have the answers to everything. What to eat, where to go, whom to love. But there is one thing she is absolutely sure of—she wants to spend the rest of her life writing music with her younger sister, Lea. Then Lea dies in a car accident, and her mother sends her away to live with her aunt in Hawaii while she deals with her own grief. While not the main focal point of the book, Rumi does grapple throughout the story about where exactly she lands on the ace and aro spectrum—and whether she has to label herself at all.
59. Meet Cute Diary by Emery Lee In this queer rom-com, a transgender teen must decide if he's dedicated to romantic formulas or open to unpredictable love after an internet troll attack on his blog compels him and a fan to start fake-dating. Through an unlikely friendship with sweet, grounded Devin, who is Cuban American, asexual, and experimenting with pronouns, Noah--initially self-centered and standoffish--learns to value communication and empathy.
60. The Reckless Kind by Carly Heath In 1904 Norway, Asta runs away from her horrible fiancé to live with her two best friends. The three misfits set out to win the annual Christmas sleigh race to prove that they belong together. Queer asexual hard of hearing protagonist with heterochromia of Norwegian descent.
61. Forward March by Skye Quinlan How can band geek Harper have the chance of becoming the First Daughter with a fake dating profile? However, Harper does know that the drumline leader swiped right. Come along with Harper as she explores her truth during her last year of high school. Asexual-questioning cis female MC with anxiety and asthma.
62. Elatsoe by Darcie Little Badger What if America had monsters, magic, and interdimensional beings? For Elatsoe, this is real, and she has to uncover her cousin's murder! She can do this with the help of her ghost dog, Kirby, but has to remember not to wake human ghosts. Aromantic ace main character. Paranormal mystery. Casual representation which extends to Ellie’s identity as Lipan Apache. This identity is asserted more often and firmly than her asexuality, and Little Badger drops in nuggets of education for us settlers about what Indigenous people, and the Lipan Apache in particular, suffered at the hands of settlers.
63. All Out: The No-Longer-Secret Stories of Queer Teens Throughout the Ages by Editor Robin Talley A collection of short fantasy stories, featuring a variety of queer characters across multiple sexualities and genders. Features an asexual roller-skating girl from the 70s struggling to explain her identity to her crush.
64. Black Wings Beating by Alex London Twins Brysen and Kylee live in a world that revers the power of the falconers, but in a world where war approaches, they aren’t safe. Hunted for their power, they work together to trap the Ghost Eagle. Kylee is an ace character, focused on protecting her brother.
Graphic Novels
65. A-okay by Jarad Greene Eight grade can be tough, especially if you have acne and bullies, and lose friends. But our relatable asexual and aromantic protagonist, Jay, pulls through. This is a relatable memoir with colorful artwork.
66. How to Be Ace: A Memoir of Growing up Asexual by Rebecca Burgess A comic memoir detailing the author Rebecca Burgess's experience with growing up asexual in a world obsessed with sex. Also talks about her experiences with her own mental health and OCD.
67. Jughead, Volume 1 by Chip Zdarsky A comic book reboot of the Archie comics centered around Jughead Jones. Follows an aromantic asexual main character in typical Archie-style shenanigans. Part 1 of a 3 part series.
68. A Quick & Easy Guide to Asexuality by Molly Muldoon A charming introduction to asexuality, created to shed light on the misconceptions surrounding sex and being asexual. Told by writer Molly Muldoon and cartoonist Will Hernandez, both on the asexual spectrum.
69. Is Love the Answer? by Isaki Uta A poignant coming-of-age story about a young woman coming into her own as she discovers her identity as aromantic asexual. A complete story in a single volume, from the creator of "Mine-kun is Asexual."
Domestic Fiction
70. Have You Seen Luis Velez by Catherine Ryan Hyde Raymond Jaffe feels like he doesn't belong. Not with his mother's new family. Not as a weekend guest with his father and his father's wife. Not at school, where he's an outcast. After his best friend moves away, Raymond has only two real connections: to the feral cat he's tamed and to a blind ninety-two-year-old woman in his building who's introduced herself with a curious question: Have you seen Luis Velez? Mildred Gutermann, a German Jew who narrowly escaped the Holocaust, has been alone since her caretaker disappeared. She turns to Raymond for help, and as he tries to track Luis down, a deep and unexpected friendship blossoms between the two. Raymond is asexual (to be precise, he is aroace) And he is depicted as kind, loving, sensitive and realistic.
Fantasy
71. In the Lives of the Puppets by TJ Klune In a strange little home built into the branches of a grove of trees, live three robots--fatherly inventor android Giovanni Lawson, a pleasantly sadistic nurse machine, and a small vacuum desperate for love and attention. Victor Lawson, a human, lives there too. They're a family, hidden and safe. Protagonist: Vic, A curious, loving, & asexual human.
72. The Bone Season by Samantha Shannon In the mid-21st century major world cities are controlled by a formidable security force and clairvoyant underworld cell member Paige commits acts of psychic treason before being captured by an otherworldly race that would make her a part of their supernatural army. Demisexual main character.
73. The Perfect Assassin by K.A. Doore Divine justice is written in blood. Or so Amastan has been taught. As a new assassin in the Basbowen family, he's already having second thoughts about taking a life. A scarcity of contracts ends up being just what he needs. Until, unexpectedly, Amastan finds the body of a very important drum chief. Until, inevitably, Amastan is ordered to solve these murders, before the family gets blamed. Amastan is asexual and, as it turns out, homoromantic.
74. The Bruising of Quilwa by Naseem Jamnia Firuz-e Jafari was able to escape the slaughter of traditional blood magic practitioners by immigrating to the city-state of Qilwa. But now a terrible disease is spreading through the city, and Firuz believes it comes from ineptly performed blood magic. Now they must find a way to break a cycle of prejudice in order to survive. From the author: it's about an aroace nonbinary refugee healer who is trying to cure a magical plague in their new home while hiding their blood magic.
75. The Midnight Bargain by C. L. Polk The Midnight Bargain is a story "set in a world reminiscent of Regency England, where women's magic is taken from them when they marry. A sorceress must balance her desire to become the first great female magician against her duty to her family. Ysbeta has a clear goal for her life: to discover and share magic. Besides loving learning for its own sake, Ysbeta is asexual, and wealthy in her own right, so the bargaining season offers her literally nothing.
76. Every Heart A Doorway by Seanan McGuire Set in a world where a group of children have the ability to find and enter doorways into magical worlds, and now must find who's targetting them for this ability. Lead by an female asexual main character, with a trans love interest. First book in a series of novellas.
Science Fiction
77. The First Sister by Linden A. Lewis She's a priestess of the Sisterhood, traveling the stars alongside the soldiers of Earth who own the rights to her body and soul. When her former captain abandons her, First Sister's hopes for freedom are dashed and she is forced to stay on her ship with no friends, no status, and a new captain she knows nothing about. When the Mother, leader of her order, asks her to spy on Captain Saito Ren, First Sister discovers that sacrificing for the war effort is so much harder to do when your loyalties are split. He climbed his way out of the slums to become an elite soldier of Venus, but now he's haunted by his failures and the loss of his partner Hiro. But when Lito learns that Hiro is alive, but a traitor, and he's assigned to hunt Hiro down, and kill them, Lito must decide what he is actually fighting for - the society that raised him, or himself. As the battle to control Ceres reaches a head, Lito and First Sister must decide what - and whom - they are willing to sacrifice in the name of duty, or for love. Hispanic panromantic asexual protagonist (Lito).
78. Firebreak by Nicole Kornher-Stace Mal is one of many war survivors in the old town working multiple jobs to scrimp by, one of which is her team's streaming video game play. The team lives with several other roommates in a converted hotel room run by Stellaxis, the company that owns half of town, and is the only legal provider of drinkable water. When Mal catches sight of an elusive SecOps character, special non-player characters (NPCs) modeled after Stellaxis' twelve bioengineered operatives, the team pursues her inside the game to catch her on video for two seconds before their power curfew kicks in. By the time Mal heads down for her daily ration of water, they've secured a lucrative contract, involving an in-person meeting and a conspiracy theory, paying them to capture images of the three living SecOps characters. When Mal returns to find out why the next payment failed, she becomes involved in a fracas that will endanger everyone she knows. Aroace main character.
79. To be Taught, If Fortunate by Becky Chambers Four astronauts set out to explore the galaxy. This journey spans centuries and many worlds. A thought provoking read that explores the themes of loneliness and sense of purpose. Excellent cast of diverse characters and vivid world building. Chikondi is asexual and the text is careful to note that his relationship to the protagonist is no less emotional or vital than those she shares with people she is sexually involved with.
80. The Circus Infinite by Khan Wong What better person to take down a crime boss than a mixed-species fugitive! Join Jes on this exciting tale of espionage, torture, demolition. Sex-averse panromantic asexual lead character
Historical Fiction
81. Kaikeyi by Vasihnavi Patel The only daughter of the kingdom of Kekaya, she is raised on grand stories about the might and benevolence of the gods. Yet she watches as her father unceremoniously banishes her mother, her own worth measured by how great a marriage alliance she can secure. And when she calls upon the gods for help, they never seem to hear. Desperate for some measure of independence, she turns to the ancient texts she once read with her mother and discovers a magic that is hers alone. Kaikeyi is asexual and aromantic. Although the words "asexual" and "aromantic" aren't used in the book.
Western
82. The Complete Lady Ruth Constance Chapelstone Chronicles by L. C. Mawson If you’re looking for steampunk magic, the Lady Ruth Constance Chapelstone novellas are the place for you. Read them individually or all together in this compendium. Chapelstone is interested in her inventions, not love and romance.
Paranormal
83. The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Your Homes by Joseph Fink Told in a series of eerie flashbacks, the story of The Faceless Old Woman goes back centuries to reveal an initially blissful and then tragic childhood on a Mediterranean Estate in the early nineteenth century, her rise in the criminal underworld of Europe, a nautical adventure with a mysterious organization of smugglers, her plot for revenge on the ones who betrayed her, and ultimately her death and its aftermath, as her spirit travels the world for decades until settling in modern-day Night Vale. Asexual secondary character.
Romance  
84. All the Wrong Places by Ann Gallagher After his three ex-girlfriends in a row leave Brennan because he's not fulfilling their sexual needs, he seeks out advice from Zafir, the owner of a sex shop. Zafir introduces Brennan to the concept of asexuality and slowly something more blossoms between them.
85. That Kind of Guy by Talia Hibbert Rae needs a fake date to take to her ex's wedding and convinces Zach, a close friend who has recently discovered that he is demisexual, to play along.
86. The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood In an attempt to convince her best friend that she really is over her ex-boyfriend, grad-student Olive panic kisses stern associate professor Adam in the hallway. (Olive is coded as demisexual/graysexual, but that label is never used in the book).
87. Far From Home by Lorelie Brown The oddest of odd couples finds unexpected joy in Brown’s warm, sweet contemporary romance. American citizen Rachel, a not-quite-asexual assistant film producer struggling to make a living in L.A., is drowning in student debt; Indian immigrant Pari Sadashiv, a lesbian logistics manager, needs a U.S. green card to advance her career. When Rachel offers to marry Pari in exchange for funds, it’s just party banter at first—but what’s to stop them from crafting a friendship with legal and financial benefits? Their platonic plans quickly go awry as Pari’s mother moves in to help plan the wedding, forcing them to live their lie. As Rachel feels herself awakening to an attraction she didn’t even know was possible, Pari has to decide whether she can live with the possible fallout of Rachel’s tentative first foray into same-sex love.
88. Kiss Her Once for Me by Alison Cochrun Last Christmas, Ellie met Jack in Powell’s when they both went for a copy of Alison Bechdel’s Fun Home, and over a cute argument over “shared custody”, and Jack poking gentle fun at Ellie (who had been crying alone and talking to a footstool as if it were her friend) they start to bond. Jack asks Ellie for coffee, and then they end up spending the whole day together. This is a big deal for Ellie, who is demisexual, and rarely develops attractions to anyone. And then Jack breaks her heart. Fast-forward to this Christmas when Andrew, the landlord who owns the building she works in, asks her to fake-marry him so he can access his inheritance, and shenanigans lead to her agreeing to this and to going home with him for Christmas, and surprise! Jack is Andrew’s sister.
89. The Charm Offensive by Alison Cochrun Tech wunderkind Charlie has never really been interested in dating, but agrees to join the cast of reality show 'Ever After.' While there he finds himself charmed by his producer, Dev, and questioning his sexuality. The Charm Offensive includes a conversation discussing asexuality and its spectrum.
90. Never Been Kissed by Timothy Janovsky Wren Roland has never been kissed, but he wants that movie-perfect ending more than anything. Thanks to Mateo’s boyfriend, he learns about demisexuality and realizes that when he came out as gay, he had not finished realizing truths about himself and intimate relationships.
91. How to be a Normal Person by TJ Klune Before The House on the Cerulean Sea blew up, Klune wrote this quirky and delightful story of two asexual people finding each other and their happily ever after.
92. Soft on Soft by Mina Waheed This super sweet, low-angst romance centers on two fat, queer women of colour (one Black and one Persian-Arab) who fall in love and find their happy ending with hardly any drama. There’s also anxiety representation. It’s just pure fluffy romance goodness. Demisexual protagonist.
Non-Fiction
93. Ace and Aro Journeys: A Guide to Embracing your Asexual or Aromantic Identity by The Ace and Aro Advocacy Project What does it mean to be ace or aro? How should I approach the challenges that come with being ace or aro? How can I best support the ace and aro people in my life? Join the The Ace and Aro Advocacy Project (TAAAP) for a deep dive into the process of discovering and embracing your ace and aro identities. Empower yourself to explore the nuances of your identity, find and develop support networks, explore different kinds of partnership, come out to your communities and find real joy within. Combining a rigorous exploration of identity and sexuality models with hundreds of candid and poignant testimonials -- this companion vouches for your personal truth, wherever you lie on the aspec spectrum. You are not invisible! You are among friends.
94. Being Ace: An Anthology of Queer, Trans, Femme, and Disabled Stories of Asexual Love and Connection by Editor Madeline Dyer Discover the infinite realms of asexual love across sci-fi, fantasy, and contemporary stories From a wheelchair user racing to save her kidnapped girlfriend and a little mermaid who loves her sisters more than suitors, to a slayer whose virgin blood keeps attracting monsters, the stories of this anthology are anything but conventional. Whether adventuring through space, outsmarting a vengeful water spirit, or surviving haunted cemeteries, no two aces are the same in these 14 unique works that highlight asexual romance, aromantic love, and identities across the asexual spectrum
95. Ace: What Asexuality Reveals About Desire, Society, and the Meaning of Sex by Angela Chen A non-fiction research book about the asexual perspective on society's facinations with love and sex, and the misconceptions about what being asexual really is and what it means to a person.
96. The Invisible Orientation: an Introduction to Asexuality by Julia Sondra Decker An introduction to what asexuality is, both for people who don't know what that means and for people that may be questioning their own sexuality. It aims to puts asexual people's experiences in context, as they move through a very sexualized world.
97. Gender Queer: A Memoir by Maia Kobabe A graphic memoir about author Kobabe's growing from adolescence to adulthood, as e explores eir gender identity and sexuality. Features a gender queer and asexual main character that uses e/eir pronouns.
98. Ace Voices What it Means to Be Asexual, Aromantic, Demi or Grey-Ace by Eris Young This is the ace community in their own words. Drawing upon interviews with a wide range of people across the asexual spectrum, Eris Young is here to take you on an empowering, enriching journey through the rich multitudes of asexual life.
99. I Am Ace: Adice on Living Your Best Asexual Life by Cody Daigle-Orians Tackling everything from what asexuality is, the asexual spectrum and tips on coming out, to intimacy, relationships, acephobia and finding joy, this guide will help you better understand your asexual identity alongside deeply relatable anecdotes drawn from Cody's personal experience.
100. Sounds Fake But Okay: An Asexual and Aromantic Perspective on Love, Relationships, Sex, and Pretty Much Anything Else by Sarah Costello and Kayla Kaszyca Drawing on their personal stories, and those of aspec friends all over the world, prepare to explore your microlabels, investigate different models of partnership, delve into the intersection of gender norms and compulsory sexuality and reconsider the meaning of sex - when allosexual attraction is out of the equation.
I haven't read all of these books, so I can't guarantee all of them. But I did my best researching all of them. I was making this list on my own and I was amazed that I could find over 100 books with asexual characters and I wanted to share it!
The Aromantic Book List is now out!
Tagging some people who were excited about this list: @sweetspiderstew @majorgenerally @shayberri789 @53rdcenturyhero @knightoflodis @neonghost39 @rosaazulina
1K notes · View notes
stupidlittlespirit · 3 months
Text
Just For Tonight (Valentines Special)
Tumblr media
Rating: NSFW, mdni Type: Longform Tags: Fake dating, no use of pronouns for reader, messy kissing, pretending to be in a relationship, making out, Reigen being a cheapskate, flirting, riding, fingering, PIV sex, glasses!reigen Word count: 9630 My other works: here on tumblr and here on Ao3!
There's a nice new sushi place in town. It's a shame they're only offering discounts for couples....
“Valentine's day is a total scam,” declares Reigen, feet kicked up on his desk and lounging in his desk chair. “It’s so lame.”
It’s 5PM on a Wednesday afternoon and work is drawing steadily to a close. You’re filing the last few pieces of paperwork for today, tidying up your things before you head home for the evening, and all you’ve done is ask if any of your colleagues are doing something nice tonight for the lauded day.
In his typical fashion, however, Reigen has seized the opportunity to launch into a pointless spiel about his one-sided beef with made-up events and how much he doesn’t buy into them.
“It’s a capitalistic concept invented to sell cheap, poor quality products marked up by like, five hundred percent, to dumb idiots that are so blinded by love that they’ll part with cash hand over fist just to prove how much they allegedly care about someone,” Reigen yaps away. “Don’t people care about the integrity of love? People should show how they feel every day, not just when society tells them they have to. It’s a dumb holiday. It’s stupid. Totally ridiculous.”
“I heard that fancy new sushi place is doing half off for couples,” says Ekubo, floating aimlessly past your head.
“Half off?” says Reigen without missing a beat. “For real?”
You roll your eyes from behind your laptop and click it shut. Trust him to only care when he can save a few Yen.
“Yeah,” Ekubo yawns. “I was gonna go down there and haunt a few couples. Y’know, spoil their day or whatever.”
“Nice,” you snort, wafting the spirit away from your face. “That doesn’t scream bitter at all.”
Ekubo grins. “Gotta make entertainment somehow, honey. You have no idea how boring it is to be dead.”
It’s hard to look disapproving when you’re laughing but you shoot him a look anyway.
Reigen snatches his feet off of the desk and sits up straight, his chair creaking with the abrupt motion. He taps away on his PC, lightning fast, and makes a sound of interest. “Holy shit,” he says. “Looks like you’re right. Half off food and drink.”
Ekubo ignores him and turns his attention to you. “Any plans?”
You shake your head. While you’d rather not give him the satisfaction, you partly agree with Reigen. The holiday is a made up scam; almost every restaurant and bar in the city ups its prices under the guise of special dinners and intimate drinks, filling their windows with hearts and flowers and corny banners about love.
Being single on Valentine’s is even worse. No one wants to go out alone and the commiseration prize for being so is a condescending offering of dating events and pathetic ‘self love’ bullshit. It's unbearably sad and you'd rather drink a bottle of wine alone in the bath than be seen to engage in any of that shit.
Still, the thought of spending it with someone you have feelings for is, in theory, very attractive. It's just a shame the only person you want is sat two meters away and very much not interested in doing anything of the sort.
Bottle of wine in the bath it is, you think.
Once everything is packed up, you wish them both good nights and make your excuses to leave. Reigen lets you go without even looking up from his laptop and you decide that tonight, more than one bottle might be needed.
At six thirty, just as you pour your first glass, your phone buzzes on the coffee table. You pick it up and flip it open, hoping this isn't going to be a late night call to come in to work even earlier tomorrow morning.
[Reigen] - are you free?
You stare at the message and another one comes in straight afterwards.
[Reigen] - obviously you are.
That’s a little hurtful but it’s not like he’s wrong. Why? you message back.
Three dots show up as he types, then they disappear, then return, and after a few minutes another message buzzes through.
[Reigen] - Emergency, meet me ASAP.
He pings through an address in the City and briefly, you're worried that he might be in trouble. The office diary hadn't listed any out of hours clients for tonight and it would be unlike Reigen to take a job that he couldn't handle alone; Serizawa is at night school this week to cram for exams and Mob is busy with his friends, so nothing is due to come up.
Another text comes through.
[Reigen] - and wear something nice.
You have absolutely no idea what he means by that, however if Reigen says it's an emergency then you'll never forgive yourself if you leave him high and dry. The last thing you want is for him to get hurt.
Must be a posh client, you think. Last minute demands for your presence are usually related to a high paying job, so it isn’t beyond the realm of possibility that he needs you to butter up a stuffy customer and show off some leg to make a sale. It wouldn’t be the first time and you usually get a good commission for your troubles. It’s easy money.
Sighing, you screw the cap back on your wine bottle and down the half-full glass in record speed.
It’s better than moping about alone.
You make it there in thirty minutes, give or take. The short notice gives you just enough time to make yourself presentable, pick out an outfit and make it into the city, yet by some stroke of luck you manage to catch the last train into central.
The address isn’t far from the office and with a brisk pace, you make it in good time. It’s busy out here tonight. It’s hardly unexpected. You’re in the food district on a major holiday, throngs of people are wandering through here at the best of times.
What is, however, is the sight that greets you when you arrive at the map’s marked location.
Reigen is standing outside a dimly lit restaurant, browsing his phone in one hand and clutching a lush looking bouquet of roses in the other. You almost walk right past him, he's unrecognisable without his usual suit and tie; he's dressed in navy slacks and a perfectly white dress shirt, silver glasses on the end of his nose and hair styled nicely. He looks good.
“Reigen?” You ask, approaching him warily.
At the sound of his name, he glances up from his phone briefly to see who’s asking and double takes. He looks a little surprised to see you and you have to admit that you feel similarly.
“Oh,” he says, looking you up and down. “You made it.”
“Where’s the emergency?” You frown, looking past him to search for awaiting clients.
Reigen clears his throat and jerks his thumb over his shoulder, towards the restaurant. “Here.”
There are no concerned looking people waiting around behind him. In fact, the entire place looks to be filled with couples who are anything but. You glance between him and the shop front again, and wait for him to expand on why you’re here.
Reigen stares back at you for a moment and then proffers the bouquet. “Here,” he says, a little flushed in the face. “You like flowers, right?”
You stare at him, clearly confused, but you take them from him all the same. They’re roses, deep red and freshly cut, tied together in layers of pink paper that rival the colour on his cheeks. You have to admit, they're lovely.
“What are these for?” You ask, laughing. “Where are the clients? You said there was an emergency.”
Reigen looks slightly guilty and you realise, after a moment, that there isn’t any client. No one needs your help and there doesn't appear to be any spirit floating around to cause bother. Now that you think about it, the front of this place seems vaguely familiar and when you look again, you realise he’s totally played you.
“This is that fucking sushi place, isn’t it?” you sigh, shifting the flowers into the crook of your arm. If what Ekubo had said is true, it’s not like you’re going to get to take advantage of the discount he so desperately wants. “Reigen, we're not exactly….” You gesture between you both and the words that go unsaid are obvious: ‘a couple’.
“Look, they’re doing fifty percent off the whole menu!” Reigen launches into his reasoning and you can tell he’s practised it. “It’s just for tonight, and we don’t have to do anything except look like we are, right? They won't know any different!” He pouts slightly for good measure and you hate that it works so well on you. It always does. “Plus, they sell that swanky shrimp shit and I really wanna try it…. Please?”
The flowers suddenly make sense.
“Are you asking me to date you for the night?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. The concept is hardly unappealing. Reigen is cute and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it. Well, thinking about it and dreaming about it are two very different things and the little candle you hold for him has only been getting bigger over time.
You’ve kept it quiet for the most part; the only person in the office that has any vague idea is Ekubo. He’s perceptive enough to have caught you looking when no one else is and although he's sworn to keep it a secret, you suppose if he isn't around then you can get away with playing things off as pretending.
He shrugs, unabashed in his request.
“Ugh,” is all you say and it's the vague confirmation he needs.
Reigen grins.
He drags you into the restaurant, hand wrapped around your wrist, and announces to the waiter that's taking stock of the visitors that he's booked a table for two. The waiter looks from Reigen, to you, to where he's holding you tightly by your arm.
“Tonight's dinner is for couple's, sir….” He says, looking unconvinced.
Reigen wilts slightly, letting go out of you and gesturing towards the flowers in your arms. “Uh,” he clears his throat. “We are.”
The waiter regards you both with suspicion and Reigen visibly prepares himself to argue with the guy. If you're honest, you'd really rather not cause a scene in an establishment like this by allowing him to fight with the first member of staff he comes into contact with.
The restaurant is clearly not made for people like the two of you: it's modern and luxurious, filled with mahogany and crystalline chandeliers, and all the staff look like they've smelled something unsavoury. It's clearly an upper-class joint.
Still, you think it might be nice to take advantage of an opportunity like this and you don't really want to spend tonight by yourself. Besides, you'll never hear the end of it if this gets screwed up and frankly, pretending to be on a date with him is probably as close to the real thing as you're going to get.
Reigen opens his mouth and you take his hand before he can get himself in trouble, slipping his arm around your waist and leaning into his side. He stiffens, looking at you in surprise, but you ignore him in favour of giving the waiter your best loving smile and lean into him.
Reigen smells like musky aftershave and something that’s distinctly him, and it makes your mouth water. “He's just shy,” you laugh, laying it on thick. “Of course we're a couple.”
It's important that you sell the idea first, Reigen had told you after you'd floundered a sales pitch once. Convince them even a little bit and the rest of it sells itself.
The advice is sound enough and you decide that the situation calls for a little more manipulation in order to close the sale and get the fucking stupid shrimp your boss wants. If nothing else, this'll teach him a lesson for tricking you into things. You press a chaste, but decent, kiss to the corner of his mouth and shoot the waiter a look that you hope conveys how much a couple in love would definitely do something like that.
You can feel your body warm up and you will yourself to stay relaxed, hoping your face doesn’t show how silly you really feel.
Reigen isn’t doing as good a job at running with things and he laughs, a little manic and high pitched. He mumbles something about you being right and gingerly squeezes your waist.
The waiter sighs and gestures for you to follow, apparently adequately persuaded.
When you risk a glance at Reigen, he's alarmingly red and slightly sweaty. All of the argumentative energy has left his sails and he seems rooted to the spot, unable to meet your eyes.
It's more than a little entertaining. You slip out of his half embrace and take his hand, having to drag him along in the wake of the waiter when it becomes clear that he’s forgotten how to move independently. “This better be the best fucking sushi I've ever had,” you warn him, but it's hard not to smile when he almost trips over his own feet on the way to the table.
The meal is otherworldly.
It's a testament to how the other half live. You've never had seafood like this before and knowing you probably won't have it again seems to make it all the sweeter. Everything is ten times better than the usual places you go.
Reigen lets you order whatever you want, provided it’s on the discount menu, obviously, and he even shares some of his fancy shrimp with you. Not much, but some.
The atmosphere is nice, too. Admittedly it's very romantic, candle lit and dark, and you suppose that is rather the point of it all. The lights stay low, the music is soft, and even the sushi arrives arranged into cute little hearts.
Your company is even better. Reigen has taken you out to eat before but usually he drags you to a cheap ramen place on the way home from work, and he always makes for entertaining companionship. This, though, is new. You've never actually gone out with him for a proper dinner and the entire time you sit across from him, you can't stop the way your stomach flutters at the thought of spending time like this together. It's silly, really.
It's not like this is a real date, after all. You don’t want to push the boat too far. There’s no sign that he actually feels any way about you beyond needing your compliance for his plan and you don’t want to make an idiot of yourself by getting too into it all.
You're halfway through sharing a round of nigiri when you realise Reigen is holding your hand. You're not sure how you missed him do it to begin with. After you'd sat down to eat, Reigen had been quick to keep himself to himself. The rosy tint to his face had stayed for a long time after your little over the top display and you had assumed he’d been too embarrassed to try something similar again.
Except halfway through dinner, you realise that his fingers are laced with yours as he laughs about a comment Mob had made the day before and he seems completely oblivious to the way his thumb is stroking over your knuckles.
You don't intend to mention it. It feels nice and you can't deny how enjoyable it is to play pretend like this with him, except he must catch your line of sight because he hums into his water glass, starting like it's also the first time he's noticed it, and starts to untangle himself.
“Shit,” he mumbles. “Sorry, I didn't-”
“I don't mind,” you say immediately. You're not sure what makes you blurt it out, but you tighten your grip to prevent him from backing off and surprisingly he gives in with no resistance.
He glances up at you, taken aback, and you try to clarify your meaning with only the tiniest of white lies. “The waiter already thinks we're making it up,” you say hurriedly. “We should probably keep it up until we leave, right? I’m not getting stuck with the full bill.”
Reigen raises his brows, seemingly astounded that you're not horrified by the concept of holding his hand, and he nods quickly to hide the expression. “Good idea,” he says, tangling his fingers with yours again. “Just for a bit longer.”
The hand holding lasts for more than just a bit. Even when you eat, neither of you let go of one another and no one mentions it. Sushi is easy to eat with one hand anyway, so it’s unobtrusive and easily forgotten. In fact, it’s oddly natural.
As the evening ticks on, you both relax enough that you start to forget that you’re supposed to be acting like you’re totally in love. It’s easy to get on with Reigen. You’ve always played off of each other well and this doesn’t feel any different to how you always behave around each other.
Beyond the handholding and the way his knees bump against yours under the table, you could be anywhere with him right now and you’re not sure you’d notice the change.
You’re not sure if that makes you feel better or worse about the situation.
The menu extends to several good wines and some specialty cocktails too, and in spite of the fact that you’re both scheduled to work tomorrow, you’re not shy about indulging. A single glass for you becomes another and even Reigen takes a risk on a second cocktail once he realises they’re serving something with citrus and fizz in it.
By the end of dinner you’re both getting on for being tipsy. Reigen begs off halfway through, a lightweight as usual, and relinquishes his for you to finish instead. It's probably for the best. His face is turning a pretty pink as he leans forward on the table, the alcohol bleeding into his system nicely, and dinner has been far too nice to puke up on the way home.
The alcohol settles in quickly and as mixing drinks tends to do, it goes to your head. You're not quite drunk, but you're not stone cold sober either. You think it might be why you stop paying attention to whatever Reigen is saying and start to let your thoughts wander a bit.
He's busy explaining a job from a few weeks ago, one that according to Mob had been fairly dicey, yet as you polish off the remainder of your glass, you’re not really listening to him brag about how he’d definitely been the one to save the day anymore.
You’re far too busy admiring the view to care about his stories. The fine wine feels like it cushions your mind in velvet, warming you up from the inside out and blurring everything around you except from him.
The chatter of the restaurant has faded away and the intimate lighting makes it feel like it’s just the two of you in here, trading stories and laughing with each other.
Reigen talks with his hands a lot, especially when he's had a drink, and while he expresses how close he’d come to death for the fifth time that day, he rocks your joined hands back and forth in time with his free one.
Reigen has nice hands: they’re wide and square, strong from all of his massages, with thick, long fingers you can’t help but imagine in places entirely unsuited to a public restaurant.
You’re enjoying a mental movie of said fingers on your body when he waves his hand in front of your face. Obviously you’re not doing a good enough job at showing him the attention he so craves.
“You're drunk,” he says, amused at your embarrassed look.
“No, I'm not,” you protest weakly. The stupid smile on your face belays your dishonesty and Reigen is clearly entertained. He blatantly doesn't believe you and you hide a laugh behind your hand. “Anyway, if I am, it's your fault.”
Reigen pretends to look aghast at the suggestion. “I'm your boss, I'd never get my employee drunk,” he scoffs.
“You don't remember having to scrape me off the floor of that bar at the Christmas party last year?” That one had been a particularly messy night out, even for you. You’re still all banned from the place for being idiots.
He smirks and you can see he's recalling it in real time. “That was your fault, not mine.”
“No way, you practically plied me with alcohol,” you say, laughing. “Very irresponsible of you.”
“Shut up,” Reigen grins and nods to the bouquet that’s propped up on the chair beside you. “I’m a great boss! I got you flowers, didn’t I?”
“Only so I’d date you under duress!” You say.
“I mean, sure, but also because you never get anything for Valentine’s.”
You stare at him, totally caught off guard by the confession. For what it's worth, Reigen looks even more surprised that he's said it. “I…. How did you-”
“Uh,” Reigen rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “I… heard you talking to Serizawa about it last week.”
You can barely remember the conversation yourself. Serizawa had been talking about seeing flower arranging classes at his school and you'd made a comment whilst Reigen had been in the other room making tea, off the cuff and totally meaningless, about how you'd never gotten them before, not even for Valentine's day. It hadn't been said for any reason other than conversation, but it had been true. Up until now, anyway.
“Reigen, I-” You don't know if you should be over the moon that he cares so much or humiliated that the object of your affection knows about your shitty dating history. “Thank you.” You say finally, giving his hand a squeeze. “I think that's the nicest thing someone has done for me for a long time.”
Reigen shrugs it off like it's nothing and you're reminded of how much you really, really fucking like this guy. He's so sweet and kind and thoughtful, and no matter how frustrating he can be, he makes up for it so easily that you can never hold it against him.
Your head swims and ridiculously, your eyes start to burn a little.
You’d really rather not cry in front of him and very graciously, Reigen pretends not to notice. Instead, he reaches for the desert menu and this time, he tells you to pick whatever you like.
For the last stretch of the night, the two of you share mochi and a couple more cocktails. The wine is a little heavy for dessert and Reigen talks you into splitting drinks so neither of you get completely wasted.
You're using them and his accidental confession over your flowers as an excuse to show a little more affection than you ought to, and he doesn't give the impression that it's a problem for him. He does start a little when you press your ankle to his under the table at one point, but at your apology and attempt to move it back, he catches your foot between his and holds it there without comment.
The casual touch becomes a subtle form of footsie without either of you consciously meaning it to and by the time dinner is done, you're sitting with your legs slotted together. Despite the fact you've let go of each other's hands to eat, everything feels much more intimate than it had at the start of tonight.
On the last few pieces of mochi, Reigen pauses his chewing. “You've got-” He gestures to his lower lip and you realise he's signifying that there's something on your mouth. “S'not much.”
Your hand flies up to seek out whatever he's talking about and you're mortified momentarily, expecting something obvious and gross clinging to your teeth, but your fingers come away clean with only a little powdered sugar on the tips.
“Oh,” you say, with a relieved laugh. “I guess I've had worse on them.” It isn't supposed to sound suggestive and the hidden meaning bypasses you until Reigen opens his smart mouth.
“Yeah,” he mutters, smirking to himself. “I bet.”
His comment comes out of nowhere and you almost choke on air, blindsided by the double entendre.
Reigen realises you've heard him and he turns so red you're sure he could light the entire way home. He panics a little, holding his hands up and starting to stammer out an apology until he realises you're laughing.
It's more than a little funny and you really don't don't mind. In fact, you suddenly wonder how far you can get him to take things. If he's making jokes like that, you're intrigued to see if you can coax out a different side to him. Just because he's your boss, that doesn't mean you both have to be uptight and on your best behaviour all of the time.
And anyway, it's all in good fun tonight. Couples are supposed to flirt, aren't they?
“Are you trying to push my buttons?” You ask, sucking the sugar from your fingertips and smiling over at him.
Reigen's eyes follow the motion and he clears his throat. “No, I-” He glances up at you, eyes searching yours, and you can almost hear the bell go off in his head when he realises he's safe to mess around a little.
A slow grin begins to bloom on his face and, slipping comfortably back into a playful attitude that you always enjoy being around, he shrugs. Reigen sits forward to lean on the table and props his chin up on his fist. “What are you gonna do if I am?” he asks, smirking. “Report me?”
You mirror him, leaning on the table too, and feint innocence. “No idea,” you say, layering on the helplessness. “Maybe. Maybe I’ll have to call HR and tell them my superior is bullying me….”
“Oh yeah?” Reigen's grin grows, cocky and lopsided. “Unfortunately,” he says, taking your hand again without acknowledging it. “I run that department too.”
Biting your lip to hold back a laugh, you duck your head and take the bait he's so clearly dangling in front of you. “Then I have a complaint to make about my boss….”
“Your boss?” Reigen says, tilting his head and pretending to recall who you might mean. He's extraordinarily good at committing to the bit. “Oh, you mean that really good looking, powerful psychic guy?”
“Uh huh,” you laugh softly and you run your toes up his ankle under the table. “Super powerful, very handsome.”
Reigen's eyes dart down toward where you're touching him, unseen, and he clears his throat again. “Handsome, huh?” He says, playing it as cool as he can. “How handsome are we talking?”
“Oh,” You smirk, shrugging one shoulder. It's hard not to break into giggles, not least because he's so cute when he thinks he's being subtle about fishing for compliments. “Enough that I don't mind him pushing a few of those buttons, I suppose.”
You know you're supposed to be joking around. All of this is a joke, a game, and yet…. The way he's allowing your touch, letting you do it back to him, it's impossible not to keep pushing.
Reigen's brow twitches and he grins. “And what if he pushed them harder?”
“I don't think I'd say no,” you sigh happily. “I like my buttons pushed pretty hard.”
“Careful,” Reigen warns playfully. “I heard he's bad news.”
You laugh under your breath. “He's not that bad once you get to know him.”
“You think so?” Reigen asks, eyes searching yours. Nonchalant, he takes your hand again and turns it over until your palm is facing upwards so he can draw slow circles on the soft skin
The sensation makes you shiver. Distractedly, you chew on your lower lip and nod. “Don't tell him, but I think he secretly likes being nicer than he gives himself credit for….”
Transfixed by your mouth, Reigen bites down on a grin. “How do you know what he likes in secret?” he says quietly. “I bet you've never even asked….”
“D'you think he'd tell me?” You say, toeing off your shoe to push your foot past his trouser leg and curl it around his calf. It's risky and stupid, and you can't even play it off as part of tonight's front, but Reigen doesn't seem to mind at all. “If I did.”
Something has changed in his gaze and all of a sudden, it doesn't feel like you're acting the part anymore. The two of you are very, very close together now and the air feels charged, like it's full of static that's pulling you towards him. He's only a few inches away from your face and you can smell the sweet scent of lemon on his breath.
Reigen is still trying to play it cool, working hard to maintain his composure as though he isn't sweating nervously. “Maybe if you show him yours, he'll show you his.”
“Yeah?” The din of the restaurant is distant and muted, like your head is full of cotton wool, and all you can concentrate on is the way he keeps licking his lips.
Reigen meets your eyes again and there's a tiny glimmer of hopeful interest in them. He doesn't appear to be joking anymore. “Go ahead,” he mutters. “Run it by me first.”
You're practically touching noses by now, leant across the table in each other's space, and if you were to tilt your head only a tiny bit, to pull on his hand, to drag him down onto you, you think you might be able to finally get the real kiss you've been dreaming of since you-
“Are you ready for the bill?”
A voice cuts through the woolly atmosphere, loud and abrasive, and both of you almost fall off of your chairs in sheer surprise, jerking away and righting yourselves in your chairs. You whip your foot back, Reigen stops touching your hand, and the intimate air abruptly feels broken and ruined.
“Apologies,” says the waiter, not looking very sorry at all. “But we do need the table.”
You can barely look up at the guy, face burning hot. It feels like you’ve been caught in the broom closet with your boss, doing something far worse than winding each other up, and Reigen seems just as embarrassed. Awkwardly, he takes the small, folded piece of paper from the waiter and reaches into his back pocket for his card.
Reigen pays the whole bill and when you attempt to offer your half, he looks at you like you're insane. Typically, you split the bill with him whenever you go out to eat. He's a cheap bastard and you know better than to expect anything less, but he refuses your offer the second you hold out your own card.
He doesn't even complain about it, either, apparently just happy to have achieved his goal of qualifying for the discount he's been aiming for all night.
Once everything is settled, Reigen calls a cab for you both to share and the whole time you wait for it, you stand arm in arm with him, grinning like idiots and laughing together about cheating the system.
The taxi arrives quickly and in it, you sit closer to him than necessary, warm and toasty against his side.
The journey is quiet to begin with. You're sated and full, and still a little tipsy, so the silence isn't unpleasant. Slumped down in your seat, hiding your face from him, you can't stop turning over the memories of the dinner. He'd been so close to you, so within kissing distance, and you're too nervous to say anything about it in case he laughs you off.
What if he was just playing along? you think silently. What if I'm reading into it? The thought is nauseating. Perhaps you've sold the idea of dating him a bit too hard….
At your side, Reigen clears his throat softly and you shift so that you can see him properly. He’s sitting so close to you that your head is practically on his shoulder, and he looks down at you with a small, soft smile.
“Thanks,” he says quietly. “For coming. And for, y'know, going along with it. I hope it wasn't too weird.”
“I had a lot of fun, Reigen.” You laugh quietly. “Thank you. It was totally worth it.”
Reigen snorts. “I think we sold it pretty well, too,” he says. “Especially, y’know, on the way in.”
Oh, you think. The kiss.
“Sorry,” you duck your head and laugh, awkward. “I didn’t think he was gonna let us in and, well, you told me to make it work, so….”
He doesn't say anything and risking a look back up, you see that Reigen is watching you closely again, just as he had in the restaurant. Reigen smiles slightly, so warm and soft that your stomach feels like it might climb up your throat, and he looks down at your mouth again.
“Maybe I need to call HR,” he says with a half-laugh. “Kissing a subordinate is probably against some kinda law or something.”
There’s a playfulness in tone, like he's joking and simultaneously trying to see what your reaction to such a comment will be.
You decide to test the water. “Depends on whether the subordinate is into it, I guess….”
Reigen smirks, teasing, and a little bit relieved that you're not backing off. “I dunno, they didn’t get the chance to tell me.”
You realise he’s talking about the conversation you’d had before you had been so rudely interrupted, and your nerves flutter. Tonight has been full of flirting and teasing, and if you're still playing stupid games, you suppose you might as well go all in and see what happens.
You're both tipsy enough that you can play it off if he doesn't go for it. “Well,” you say, biting your lip. “I guess I'm pretty partial to a redhead. Especially if they’re in charge of me.”
“Yeah?” he says quietly, smile growing.
“And men with big mouths that they can't keep shut, too,” you smirk, glancing down at his.
“Noted,” he chuckles, his breath ghosting over your face. “Anything else you like?”
You look back up at his smug expression and decide you can't let him get too ahead of himself. “And swallowing.”
Reigen makes a funny noise, strangled and hoarse, and closes his eyes for a moment. “Fuck,” he murmurs. You can see his throat bob up and down as he tries to compose himself, and when he finally opens them again, he looks like he's struggling to keep it together. A blush crawls up his throat and the look in his eyes is so hungry it makes your knees go weak.
“Fuck HR,” Reigen says, and then sways forward slightly with the motion of the car and, leaning the rest of the way into your space, he ducks his head and kisses you.
Your eyes flutter shut and he cradles the side of your face, turning your head so he can get you exactly where he wants you.
It’s soft and nervous at first, like he's still not sure if he's making the right move and he pulls away almost as soon as he makes contact, only to return without hesitation for a second and a third at your insistent sounds. The chaste kisses become deeper as he lingers, slow and unhurried, and you can taste the sweetness from your desserts and drinks.
It’s so unbelievably fucking perfect.
You press your tongue against his and he gives a low groan, his hand finding your thigh to pull you closer. The kisses keep coming, his fingers trail upwards, crawling closer and closer to your lap, and you drag your teeth over his lower lip when he pulls away to breathe.
Reigen looks like he's had more than just a couple of cocktails to drink now; his face is redder than ever, his gaze glassy, and he's panting against your mouth like he's run a mile. You press another kiss to the corner of his lips and you shift in your seat, encouraging his hand to explore even higher.
He does as he’s asked, thick fingers slipping up between your legs and he leans down again to keep kissing you while he teases you through the fabric of your clothes.
You sigh into his mouth. His touch doesn’t feel like it’s anywhere near enough, the sensation dulled by your stupid fucking outfit, and you try to press up into him to seek out more.
Reigen laughs at your desperation, mumbling a stupid comment about being needy, and you bite his lip again in warning. “Careful,” You whisper, reaching over to palm him through his slacks with a smirk. “Don’t get smart.”
Reigen chokes out a grunt and his hips buck up of their own accord. He’s already hard, tenting his slacks, and you're not about to let him think he's in charge of the show. “HR won’t be happy if they find out I didn’t get my way,” you tut, rubbing his cock up and down slowly. “Then you will be in trouble.... And we don't want that, do we?”
Reigen hisses, eyes dark and pupils blown wide. He stares you down, challenging your gaze, and he smirks at your unwillingness to let him get away with being an asshole. He goes to kiss you again, surging forward, and then the taxi driver clears his throat very loudly.
You're yanked back into your surroundings. The car is parked up outside your apartment, engine running, and the driver is watching you in the mirror. He doesn't look very impressed. “You kids mind taking this somewhere else?”
You cover your mouth with your hand to stop yourself from laughing and grab your bouquet of flowers, flinging open the door while Reigen grabs whatever cash he has in pocket and flings it into the driver's tray.
He scrambles out of the car, darts around the back and grabs you by the hand, dragging you away and ignoring the guy's shouts of how much he's overpaid.
You only live on the first floor. Your apartment is small and simple, so much so that it hardly qualifies as much more than a shoebox with a kitchen attached, and you have to shuffle around in the hallway in order to let Reigen get inside.
He passes down the hall and makes his way into the main room, and once you’ve locked the front door you go after him. He's hovering about in the tiny living area, hands in his pockets as he inspects your room, and you drop the flowers on your coffee table whilst he’s busy.
This is the first time he’s been in here. On a proper night out, you tend to crash at his if you can’t make it home; it’s marginally bigger than yours and the cab is cheaper, which means his place always wins out. It’s a new experience to have him in your space like this.
“This is nice,” Reigen says awkwardly, gesturing to the apartment at large. “Cozy.” He seems a little stiff, unsure what to do now that he’s here.
You snort, coming to stand in front of him. “What are you, an estate agent?” You put your hands on his chest and guide him backwards until his legs hit the edge of your bed, and he falls back with a soft thump!
Willing and able, Reigen makes room for you between his legs. He pushes himself up on his elbows and looks on as you begin to undress. Your movements are slow and deliberate, never once looking away from him, and you can see his breathing pick up in pace.
He’s hypnotised by every move you make. You shed your clothes until you're in just your underwear, exposed to him, and climb carefully into his lap. You take off his glasses and lean over to deposit them on the bedside table before going back to him.
Reigen's hands come up to hold your waist and he boosts himself upward to restart his feverish kisses. He's ungainly and needy, licking and biting his way back into your mouth while you start to strip him of his dress shirt. You make quick work of the buttons, slipping them out with deft fingers and peeling the fabric away.
You tug at the back of his shirt until it slips free of his slacks, hands wandering over his lower back as you explore his soft skin. Much to your delight, the muddy freckles on his face continue down his shoulders, cascading onto his upper arms and spattering the pale skin like paintbrush flecks.
Reigen's body is slight. Narrow and slim, yet soft at the edges. He isn't very muscular; you know he runs on the weekends and you suppose he stays reasonably fit in order to chase after the others at work, so there's a subtle hint of strength hidden underneath the puppy fat of his stomach.
It's more attractive than it has any right to be.
Without breaking away from his kisses, you slip your hands down his chest and work your fingers under his belt until you reach the buckle, blindly undoing it with practiced skill.
The metal gives way and you slide the leather from the pin quickly to give yourself easier access. You're about to do the same to the buttons when he pulls away from you panting hard and clinging to your hips.
You try to chase his mouth, still pressing open mouthed kisses there while he tries to speak.
“Wait, wait,” Reigen says, voice hoarse. “Hang on.”
“Are you alright?” You ask, leaning back to make sure he's okay.
Reigen looks bashful, eyes searching yours. He goes to say something and then stops himself, visibly nervous about whatever he intends to say. "I…" He sighs, closing his eyes to steel himself. Whatever is wrong, it’s enough for him to reconsider what he's doing.
He doesn't move you off of him, but he suddenly looks like he wants to hide away somewhere. His flirty confidence from earlier is gone, replaced with the same shyness he'd shown when you had kissed him at the restaurant.
You take his face in his hands and force him to look up at you again. “Reigen, what is it? If you're uncomfortable, we can-”
“No!” He shakes his head, wrapping his arms around your middle to keep you still. “It's not that, I just…. I'm-” Reigen groans, not out of pleasure but embarrassment, and he buries his face in your shoulder. “I haven't really…. Done this. Before”
“What, fuck an employee?” you say, laughing quietly. “It's alright, I was just kidding about making a complaint, I-”
“No, I mean this,” he mumbles into your shoulder. “Sex.”
You push at his chest until he has to sit up, revealing his cherry red face. He's uncharacteristically out of his depth and you're confused as to what he's saying . “You mean, like, it's been a while?” You ask.
Reigen grimaces, shaking his head. “Like, ever.”
“What?” You don't mean for the shock to show so obviously. He’s clearly already struggling and you gaping down at him like he’s mad won’t help the situation, however the idea that he’s never had sex before is utterly insane to you.
“I’m sorry,” Reigen apologises, avoiding meeting your eyes. He shuffles like he means to get up, jostling you about. “I didn’t wanna say anything, I know it’s stupid I can just go-”
“Reigen, stop,“ you put your hands on his shoulders and he stills, nervously glancing up at you through his lashes. He looks like he expects you to laugh at him, to kick him out now that you know his secret. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I didn’t think it’d be a good topic over dinner,” Reigen huffs, rolling his eyes. “It’s embarrassing, obviously.” He’s very obviously humiliated by his admission and it makes your chest ache to see him so uncharacteristically vulnerable.
His point is valid enough; tonight was supposed to be fake, it’s not like there had been any need for him to tell you anything of the sort. Still, you feel a little bad for pushing him so much now. Admittedly it’s a surprise. He always seems to know what to say and being able to talk the talk usually gets you pretty far when it comes to sex, but the more you think about it, the more it starts to make sense.
All throughout dinner, he’d been happy to shoot the shit with you when he’d thought it was just a game, however the moment you’d done anything that even bordered on actual affection, he’d been decidedly less confident. Even in the car, his touches were hesitant and his kisses were unskilled.
You run a hand up his chest to soothe him, watching his tense shoulders relax. “Idiot,” you say, fond. “I don’t care.”
Reigen raises his eyebrows. “You don’t?”
“Not even a little bit,” you smile, leaning down to kiss him again.
Reigen doesn’t stop you. He breathes out heavily through his nose, gradually beginning to calm down, and you decide that things will have to go a little differently than you’d originally intended. “Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” You murmur.
He nods quickly and you trail kisses from the side of his mouth down to his jaw line, open mouthed and hot, and he tips his head back with a groan. His skin tastes slightly salty, probably from sweating so much around you, and you drag your teeth over his pulse point.
Reigen sighs happily. He squeezes your hips, grabbing them gently and digging his blunt nails into the skin.
You slip out of your bra and toss it across the room. You stop bothering his neck in order to sit up, and you guide his hands up from your hips to caress your chest.
His big hands grope at you, squeezing experimentally as he explores the new sights, enjoying himself immensely. It makes you keen under his touch and he grins, his bravery growing at your enjoyment.
You unbutton his slacks whilst he's busy touching you up and slip a hand into them to palm at him through his underwear. Reigen grunts and presses his hips up into you, seeking friction to rut against, and you push down to meet him.
He gasps at the contact, his hold on your hips tightening, and before he can get carried away with dry humping you, you tug at his slacks and force him to stop. “Take these off,” you instruct, climbing off of his lap to give him room.
Reigen scrambles to shove off his trousers, kicking them away with his underwear and shuffling back into place, lightning fast. His eagerness is horribly endearing and it makes you grin. You slip out of your underwear and push him back against the pillows. “Lay back,” you smile.
Reigen does as he's told and with him flat on his back, you can finally see him as exactly as you've imagined. A trail of deep red hair leads down to a small patch that surrounds his thick cock, well kept and neat.
His thighs are curved nicely, long legs stretching down to hang off of your bed, and they show far more evidence of his exercise than his upper body. Regardless, he's gorgeous from head to toe. It drives you insane and you drink in the view for a second.
Reigen begins to look a little self-conscious at your attention. He squirms under your scrutiny and you're quick to settle his fear, straddling his waist and kissing him again until he forgets all about his worry.
You trade touches with him, hands roaming over one another as you make out for a while and Reigen's bravery begins to grow. He's encouraged by your soft sighs and casual exploration of his own body, and quite bravely he walks his fingers down from your hip to your bare pussy.
Your breath catches and you look down to him, giving him the silent go ahead.
Reigen bites his lower lip. He looks excited and shy all at the same time. Very carefully, he runs his fingers along the soft folds of you and studies your face to see how you react to his touches.
You gasp and tilt your body towards him, opening your legs to give him better access to you. His fingertips meet wetness and he makes a soft sound, both interested and surprised, and he trails them through your arousal.
Reigen is so busy investigating the feeling that he seems to forget that you're attached to the other end. He toys with your pussy, listening to you gasp and moan, grinning to himself greedily.
“Reigen,” you whine, reaching down to cover his hand with your own. “Put your fucking fingers in me before I-!”
He does as you ask, pushing one into your cunt and silencing your command. You moan loudly and push down onto his hand, desperately seeking more.
“Should I just….” Reigen looks a little awkward, unsure how to proceed, and with your hand that holds his wrist, you guide his finger in and out slowly.
“Keep doing that,” you sigh. “That's perfect.” The motion makes you shudder and you grab at his shoulder with your other hand. Reigen works his hand up and down, slow and steady as though he has all the time in the world.
You’re so wet that he hardly has to wait to add a second finger and you encourage him along to keep him calm.
Reigen appears to be enjoying the praise you give. His cock is hard against your hip, precum smearing against the skin when you shift, and he rocks into you in time with his fingers.
As he moves his digits within you, you lean back to take hold of his cock, squeezing him gently. Reigen practically mewls when you do so, cock twitching in your grip.
You bring your hand back to spit in it and gently, you coat his cock until it's wet enough to glide your hand along smoothly, starting to stroke him.
Reigen gasps and bucks upward into your hold, desperate for more as he grips the sheets with his free hand. He adds another finger into you carefully, watching your face with barely concealed awe. His fingers inside you burn in the best way, and Reigen's digits curl perfectly to hit your sweetest spot, making you cry out.
He pauses for a second, frightened he might have done something wrong, and you shake your head at his silent query. “Don’t stop,” you say, breathless.
Reigen nods and moves in time with you for a minute, unable to look away from where you sit above him. His hand speeds up as yours does and within minutes, Reigen is falling apart under your touch.
Worried he'll get carried away, you lift up off of his hand and guide his fingers out. At first, he protests with an annoyed grunt, trying to snatch you back down, and you shove him back by his chest, grinning.
Reigen looks confused until you shift backward to hover over his cock and he catches on quickly.
“Ready?” You ask, making sure he's okay.
Reigen nods quickly and takes hold of your waist. “Fuck, yes, please.”
You can't help but tease him a little, rubbing the head of his erection over your cunt for a moment and watching how easily he works himself up with unrestrained glee.
He goes to say something smart and you seize the chance to catch him off guard. You ease your weight down onto him until finally, you're completely filled by him. It feels so good you cry out and pitch forward, bracing your hands on his chest.
Reigen chokes out a moan, grip on your waist tightening, and he screws his eyes shut. He tenses for a moment, trying to calm himself before he can manage to go on. As much as you'd like to let loose, you force yourself to be patient. If he's never done this before then you can't ride him too hard to begin with. He'll come in five seconds flat and you're desperate to feel him for as long as possible.
“Relax,” you coo, covering his hands with your own. “Look at me.”
Reigen manages to open his eyes and you smile, reassuring. “Take a deep breath, don't panic.” You say, running your thumbs over his hands. “You're doing so well.”
Reigen blushes and manages a sheepish smile, breathing in and out slowly.
After a long minute, Reigen nods for you to go on, and you lift yourself up and down slowly, thighs straining as you move. He watches you in disbelief for a second, like he's committing the sight of you to memory, and a big grin crawls onto his face. “Fuck,” he gasps. “You're so fucking hot.”
The compliment is unexpected and you feel your face warm up. Having his fingers in you feels like nothing in comparison to the way he's looking at you right now, hungry for more and leering at the sight of you on his cock.
You can't stop yourself from smiling and you roll your hips forward, slow to begin with. Each move has you both moaning and sighing, encouraging each other to give more and more until you're not sure who's fucking who anymore.
Reigen's eyes roll back when you speed up, eyes fluttering to stay open. His fingers are digging into your skin and the thrill of being bruised by him runs straight to your pussy.
The room fills with only tiny moans and sounds of fucking; No smart come backs, no more faking, just pure pleasure and excitement.
With a good pace set, you run your fingers over your clit, sighing happily as you circle your touch. It feels so good that you can't even focus on keeping rhythm, your hips stuttering a little.
Reigen seizes the moment to take charge of the moment instead of letting you control the movements, and he fucks up into you. His confidence is unexpected so you barely have time to process what happens, falling forward and leaning on his chest for support. His gaze moves from your face to where your tits bounce, and back up again. He meets your eyes and the sight of one another is enough to make both of you laugh.
He sits up a bit and presses your foreheads together, kissing you over and over, messy and uncoordinated as he gets closer. You both make soft little sounds, panting into each others space like you're desperate for air, and as your fingers work furiously over your clit, you begin to feel a coil build in your stomach; you're so close you feel like you might explode, and you cry out when Reigen snaps his hips particularly hard.
It's enough to force you over the edge and you tighten around him, body shuddering as your climax hits you. You moan his name loudly as the waves wash over you and the sensation is obviously too much for Reigen, because he buries his face in your neck and makes the most obscene noise you've ever heard.
It's somewhere between a sob and a moan, but his voice breaks halfway through and he bites down hard on your neck to stifle himself.
You can feel him cum inside you, cock twitching, and you collapse forward onto him the second he's done. Both of you go limp, lying pressed up against each other as you try to catch your breath again. Neither of you move for a while and it isn’t until you feel your thighs begin to cramp that you decide you’re going to have to get off. You lift up off of him carefully and you both groan at the loss as he slips out from you, cum trailing after his soft cock, and you flop beside him on the bed.
Reigen looks thoroughly fucked. His hair is astray and his mouth is red, lips bitten and slightly swollen from all the attention you’ve given them throughout tonight. You know you probably don’t look much better, but you’re so exhausted you can’t bring yourself to care.
You shuffle up into his side and Reigen tucks an arm under you, pulling you in close. Your eyes are growing heavy against your will and Reigen drags your leg up over his hips to make you more comfortable.
He draws circles on your skin with his thumb, breathing slowing to a normal pace. The silence is comfortable and calming, and you’re almost drifting off by the time you manage to speak again.
“You okay?" you whisper, peering up at him.
Reigen hums, a ghost of a smile on his face. “Yeah,” he says, sounding entertained. “Very.”
You laugh quietly to yourself at his smug face and snuggle closer to his side. He squeezes your upper arm gently and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.
"Are you?” He asks.
“Definitely,” you sigh happily and close your eyes. “I think we went above and beyond to convince that place tonight, don’t you?”
Reigen smiles into your hair. “Eh, maybe we should go out a few more times. Just to make sure.”
You grin into the crook of his neck. “Sure, if you’re paying.”
Reigen chuckles and gives your ass a gentle slap. “Only if you show me how much you really like swallowing.”
“Deal.”
430 notes · View notes
starcursedluvrs · 26 days
Text
"TALK"
I suguru x pregnant!reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“And I’d be the immediate  Forgiveness  In Eurydice.  Imagine being loved by me.” 
Tumblr media
part I of suguru x pregnant!reader (this isn’t completely canon compliant, and will probs be 3 or 4 parts and will go up to December 24th, 2017 on the current JJK timeline).  
summary: you loved suguru more than anything in this world. and you could argue he felt the same for you. actually, he would end the world for you. so, he took you with him the night he defected, and you happily obliged. however, in the midst of the chaos of leaving your life behind, two little lines appear on a certain test causing you to rethink your entire plan. 
A/N: heyyy!! i'm arden!! this is my first try at ever posting the fanfic I’ve written so please enjoy! I started this specific fic as a hobby back in December, and I finished it a little over a month ago (I’ve just been kinda nervy to post hehe) so here goes nothing! likes, reblogs, and comments are highly appreciated <3
MINORS / AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED. 
warnings!: SPOILERS FOR GOJO’S PAST ARC. THIS IS A PREGNANCY FIC! 18+. nsfw. f!reader. suguru and reader are over the age of 18. explicit sexual content. unprotected sex/oral (f!receiving). breeding kink. fingering. creampie. pregnancy. unplanned pregnancy. lactation kink. mentions of child abuse. cute domestic fluff hehe. 
wc: 14.5k
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
September 2007 
4:27 PM (16:27)
“Wait…so what are we doing again?” you asked, riding atop one of Suguru’s many curses. You were straddling the pink alien-looking curse, legs dangling off either  side. One of Suguru’s large hands held your waist steady while the other controlled the motion of the cursed spirit. His chin was buried in the crook of your neck, so that he had easy access to press kisses into your skin. 
Suguru left a line of sweet pecks down your shoulder before answering. 
“This village in the sticks was reported to have kidnappings and abnormal deaths. Shouldn’t be anything unusual,” he said nonchalantly. 
You leaned back against him so that you could look up into his honey irises, pouting. His hand left your waist, moving comfortably behind him to support both of your weight. 
“Then why did you ask me to come along? Seems like you could handle it yourself, you’re a special grade. I’m only a semi grade-one,” you reasoned, reaching up to play with his stray bangs. He grabbed your hand before you could reach his neat, inky bun, pressing light kisses into your knuckles. 
“Well, if all goes well, maybe we can find a hotel or do something nice. Charge it to the school and say it took longer than we expected, so we get to stay somewhere overnight without waking Satoru,” Suguru replied, smirking a bit on the last line of his speech. 
“I like the way you think, my love,” you beamed, melting into his touch. 
… 
January 2007 
You and Suguru had been in a committed relationship for the past nine months, and friends for even longer.  You started secretly fucking around at the beginning of your third year at Jujutsu High. You had always been attracted to him, but given your tiny class size and the complexity of Jujutsu Society, you didn’t want to cause any drama or make things weird between you two. 
Well, life doesn’t always go to plan. 
Especially that one night at the beginning of your third year when you, Shoko, Satoru, and Suguru broke into Yaga’s liquor cabinet, stole two bottles of sake, and got a little handsy. With your judgment impaired, you might have let it slip that you thought Suguru was very attractive and often wondered how his sculpted body would feel beneath his Bontan pants and uniform shirt. The thought was reciprocated by the raven head. 
One thing led to another, and the next morning, you woke up in a tangled mess of inky black hair and bedsheets. Suguru just held you, keeping your body close to his, whispering sweet nothings into your ears. It was nice, you did not have to say anything to fill the comfortable silence that had fallen upon you two. 
Eventually, he placed a kiss on your forehead and started to pull his clothes on from the previous night. 
Last night. Was last night a mistake? 
Should you have let Suguru taken you out to dinner or something before he fucked you into tomorrow? 
“Wait…Sug hold on.
What does this mean? 
For us? Our friendship?” you asked in a panic before Suguru reached the door. 
“It doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to,” he replied in his calm, collected tone, looking at the floor with his back to you. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you sat up, still covered by the soft sheets, pulling your knees into your chest, slightly offended. 
“Just that we don’t have to make a big deal out of this if we don’t want to. We also don’t have to do this again if you don’t want to. I know this could complicate things if we keep at it,” he paced around to face you again, the distance still rather daunting.
“Okay.” 
“Cool.”
The comfortable silence from before slowly turned awkward. 
“Um…thanks,” you offer. 
“…for…what?” Suguru inquired. 
“Last night. It was…fun,” you flashed him an unsure smile. 
A deep rumble came from his chest as he chuckled, “Yeah, let’s see how much fun you have walking today. See ya in class,” before leaving the room.
“SUG-“ you called after him, blushing at the cheesy line as he left the room, disappearing back into the cocoon of sheets. 
March, 2007 
You tried to keep your distance from him. Being a child of the Kamo clan, you were probably destined to be forced into some relationship that benefitted Jujutsu society, and not your happiness. This was just one of the many things that you hated about Jujutsu Society. Therefore, Suguru was all that more enticing to you. 
You found yourself perched on Suguru’s desk the next week. Your legs were spread wide, held apart by his large hands to assure you didn’t squirm around too much and get away from him. Suguru was lapping at your folds like a man starved. He dragged his tongue up and down your slit, and worked his way up to your clit, giving it a little kiss and suck. 
“Ngh Suguru. More.” You moaned, bucking your hips up to his face. 
“That’s not how we ask,” he replied, pulling away. 
“Suguru. Please.”
“What happened to complete sentences?” Suguru pressed one of his large thumbs to your nub, holding pressure, but refrained from moving it. 
“Fuck YOU Suguru I-“ 
“That’s what I’m trying to do, doll. You’re just not behaving.” 
He started to swirl his thumb around gently. It wasn’t enough to make you cum, but the pleasure was still intense. 
“Suguru please, I need som-something inside. Fingers. Yours. Please.” You croaked out, your head going dizzy with pleasure. 
“Awww, what’s wrong? Can’t think straight?” He said, plunging his slickened digits, adorned with a few silver rings, right into your core. 
“At least you said please, so I guess I’ll let you cum this time,” Suguru voiced in that smooth, sultry voice of his. 
He started moving those two digits back and forth in a “come here” motion, not giving you a chance to adjust to their circumference. A lewd squelching noise filled the room as he continued his ministrations. “You’re being such a good girl for me, taking my rings and fingers so well. Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” 
You let out a loud moan, and Suguru immediately pushed his thumb in your mouth for you to suck on. That way, you wouldn’t draw attention to any unwelcome visitors who might be walking the halls of the school. 
“You don’t even have to answer with that pretty mouth, your body is answering for you. You’re so tight. Gods, you’re gorgeous.” he whispered into your ear. 
He put his mouth back on your clit to suck, and added a third finger. He kept thrusting it in and out, hitting that sweet spot that had you seeing stars, as if he had your g-spot memorized. 
If Sugru ended up drowning in your juices, he would die a happy man. He absolutely loved lapping up at your sweet pussy, the earthy scent intoxicating to him. 
Soon, you felt the familiar coil in the depths of your belly start to come undone, and your cunt fluttered around Suguru’s fingers, the stimulation becoming too much.
“Come apart f’me. I got you love. I got you. Cum f’me,” Suguru commanded in his pussy-drunk haze. 
You let go as your orgasm washed over you, relishing in the pure bliss as Suguru helped you through the aftershocks. When you came to, he captured your lips in a hungry kiss. You could still taste your essence on his tongue. 
The next night, you were folded over the same desk as he pounded into you with his fat length. The bathroom stalls. The pantry. Behind the bleachers at the field. You could not get enough of each other. 
You and Suguru both fell hard and fast for each other. His unwavering sense of morality, intelligence, and kindness towards others drew you even further into his grasp. The way he spoke, his scent of freshly done laundry, his loyalty to his friends; these were all things that you loved about Suguru Geto. He was one of a kind. 
As Jujutsu Sorcerers, you were well aware that your tomorrow was not guaranteed. Suguru made you feel alive, which, to you, was worth more than any amount of fame or glory that your clan could bestow upon you. He truly wanted to make the world a better place for you, and any future you might have together. On the third month of your official relationship, you confessed your love: 
“Suguruuuu,” you giggled as he kissed up your neck. 
You had been laying in Suguru’s bed, in the midst of a heated makeout session. Your back was pressed flat into the mattress, knees at an angle, and feet flat against the soft duvet. Suguru was positioned right on top of you, in between your knees. He held your face in both of his hands, and your arms clung to the back of his head, getting lost in the inky strands. 
“I love you.” He whispered, as if he was telling a secret. 
In lieu of an answer, you brought his head down into a deep, passionate kiss. Your tongues danced together for what seemed like forever and no time at all, until you broke the kiss and said, “I think I may love you more.” 
“Unfortunately, doll, that’s simply not true. I’d end the world for you.” 
You were hopelessly in love with Suguru Geto.    
May 2007 
“You have a list of baby names picked out? Dude you’ve been together for like a few months.” Shoko taunted, a cigarette tucked between her lips, clicking away on her silver flip phone. 
“Oh, come on Ieiri, I think every person has a baby name list.”
“I don’t.” Shoko deadpanned. 
“You’re a lesbian who has no desire for kids,” you shot back.
“Touché. I do have a cat name list, though, if that counts,” Shoko added.
“I think it does.” you replied. 
“Ugh, fineee, gimme the list,” said Shoko, already grabbing the journal out of your hand. After scanning through the list of names, Shoko looked up at you and burst into laughter.
“Ok, you cannot name your kid Shigure. Or Kyo. Or any character from Fruits Bask-“
“Yo, WHO’S having a kid” interrupted the lanky, white-haired person with blacked-out sunglasses and a mischievous smile. Suguru appeared next to Satoru, holding a basketball, running to kiss you hello. 
“NO ONE’S having a kid,” you replied. 
“Ok, wait I need to know, do either of you have baby name lists? I feel like every person has them.” 
Satoru sighed, and thought about the question for a second. Suguru sat on the ground and started rolling the basketball in the dirt. 
“I haven’t even thought about baby names. To be honest, kids are kinda hard to have when you’re a sorcerer. You have to go on missions and then come home and change diapers, no thanks. Like, what if it poops on you? Also, I kinda wanna spite the old geezers in my clan.” Satoru added.
“You raise an excellent point, Gojo. This is one of the reasons why I love being a lesbian. Less of a risk for accidents,” Shoko took a drag from her cigarette.
“I can’t be the ONLY person here who has a list,” you sighed. 
“Lemme see that-“ Satoru said as he grabbed your journal from Shoko’s grasp. 
“…These are just Fruits Basket and One Piece charact-” Satoru snickered. 
“Wait Satoru, have you read the new One Piece chapter yet? I heard it’s crazy.” Suguru cut in. 
“Oh, no not yet, I haven’t had a chance to get the new volume,” Satoru whined. 
“What are you doing right now? Wanna go pick up some coke from the vending machine, then get to that bookstore in Shinjuku and grab a copy?” Suguru explained with excitement. 
“Honestly, a coke sounds amazing right now. Either of you wanna come?” Satoru gestured to you and Shoko. 
“Nah, I think we’re gonna go steal some of Yaga’s booze,” Shoko informed. 
“Yeah, he’s on a mission for the next day or so. Might as well take advantage of it,” You said, a little defeated and disinterested. 
“…’kay see you guys later then.” Satoru said in a sing-songy voice. 
Suguru walked up to you, pressed a quick peck on your lips, and said, “I’ll be back. Love you.” 
But that wasn’t all.
Under his breath, so that no one else could hear, he whispered, “Don’t think this conversation is over yet, doll,” and walked away as if he hadn’t uttered anything. Your stomach was filled with butterflies and you felt your cheeks go hot as he walked away. 
… 
Later the same day, May, 2007
You were sitting on Suguru’s lap as he twiddled on his PS3 controller playing one of his games. Suguru was sitting on the floor, his legs criss-crossed while you leaned against his back, feeling his warmth though his clothing. You were sporting one of his large white t-shirts, wearing only your favorite pair of panties underneath. 
“Sug?” You question softly, turning around to face him. 
“Yeah, doll?” He replied not looking down from his game. 
“So…about that comment earlier. Why did you say the conversation wasn’t finished yet? And which one? About the One Piece chapter? Or the baby names? I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable asking that question, I was ju-“
Suguru paused his game and looked at you, a smirk on his face. 
“It did the opposite of making me uncomfortable, actually. It made me feel a little more normal, or as normal as we can be given our lifestyle. I have a baby name list too.” 
Your heart fluttered. Of course he did. 
“I saw the list over Satoru’s shoulder. And we actually had one name in common.”
“Which name?” 
“Riko.” He replied softly.
His answer made you happy and sad all at once. You wish you didn’t have that name on your list. Riko Amanai had meant so much to the both of you. She represented the freedom that you could have from Jujutsu Society, as well as everything that was broken and corrupt about it. Riko’s death is what radicalized the both of you. She set you both on a path to work towards a better world. 
For a moment, you thought about what your life would be with Suguru had you not been Jujutsu Sorcerers. You would probably get married as soon as you graduated, get a job somewhere. Buy a cozy house in the countryside. Make home cooked meals, have children, adopt some dogs. You would grow old together and not have to constantly worry about the fact that you could die a gruesome death in the morning. 
You were lying down on your side now, your back against Suguru’s chest. Suguru moved a hand under your shirt, to your stomach, slowly rubbing circles, drawing you out of your trance. 
“I love your tummy, it’s so cute” Suguru sighed into your ear. 
You giggled.
“What’s so funny about that, love?”
“I’m sorry that just sounded so funny in the moment.” 
“I don’t think it’s that funny, especially when my baby’s gonna be in there one day.”
He said it so nonchalantly and matter-of-factly that you thought you had misheard him. You blushed, hoping you didn’t mishear. 
“SUG-“ you turned around and gave a playful slap to his arm. 
After a pause of giggling from the both of you, Suguru just couldn’t let the topic get away from you. 
“Ya know, I think about it a lot,” he continued. 
“Think about what,” you questioned.
“Think about what our future would be like. A house that is actually full of love. And little feet running around.” 
“Tell me more,” you said against his lips. 
“Maybe we’d live in a really remote village away from everything Jujutsu related. We could get a little farm, raise some sheep, horses, chickens, crops. We could add to the world instead of just taking.” 
“Why do we have to wait for the future to do that? Money isn’t the issue here,” You answered, referring to the handsome compensation you receive for such a risky career path. 
“True, I could just fuck a baby into you right now.” 
“I was talking about the house, and you knew that.” You shot back, a laugh escaping your chest at an attempt to be serious. 
“That’s another thing I think about.” 
“What?” You were taunting him now. You wanted to see where this was going.
“You, your tummy all round with my baby. God, you look so good when you’re stuffed full f’me,” Suguru slurred. From the dim light of his paused video game, you could see that his pupils were blown with lust. He kissed you hard and messily, tongue intertwining with yours.
Suguru removed your (his) shirt and started to kiss down your body, landing at your breasts, hovering right over a nipple. 
“These would look so good with milk. So pretty and soft,” he purred, taking a nipple into his mouth. 
The warmth of his mouth felt so good against your pebbled nipples, you couldn’t help but let out a moan. He licked and sucked until you were a drooling, wet mess underneath him. 
“You like this, huh. Baby, I’ve barely touched you. And you’re already this worked up?” He taunted, moving to give attention to the neglected nipple. 
“What else?” you slurred, ignoring his question. He still hadn’t admitted it.
“Everyone would know who you belonged to. All because of me.” He continued, releasing the nipple from his mouth. 
His words sent shivers down your spine, and you felt your arousal start to pool uncomfortably in your underwear. You needed them off. 
“Suguru, what do you want?” you asked the obvious question, just wanting to hear him speak more on the topic. 
“I wanna stuff your pretty cunt full of cum ‘till you can’t take any more, doll,” he grumbled, grinding his impressive erection on your clothed cunt. 
“Wanna get you pregnant so bad,” he continued pressing feverish kisses down the length of your body. “You’ve been asking a lot of questions about what I want.” He made his way to your panties, “But, before I take these off, I need to know what you want.”
Your hole was clenching around nothing at his words, you were getting rather impatient. 
“Please touch me.” You whined. 
“Hmm, I have been touching you my love,” 
“Sugu- stop t-teasin-nghhh.” you moaned as one of his thick fingers started moving in a circular motion on your bud. Soon, one finger became two, and he moved them from your clit to your slick folds, swirling the juices around, occasionally ghosting your eager cunt. 
“Suguru gimme your dick,” you begged. 
“Baby, one, you can ask nicer than that, where are your manners? And two, I have to get you ready to take me first. Gotta make sure I can fit the most amount of cum in there as possible,” he let out a small moan on the last word. 
“Open your mouth, doll,” he commanded. 
You complied, opening your mouth as he stuck his two slickened fingers in, pushing them as far back as they could go. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see a dark stain forming on his gray sweatpants. He must have been impossibly hard. 
Your moans and gasps vibrated against his digits, and when he thought you had been teased enough, he finally offered you the sweet relief of his fingers filling you. Definitely not as large as his cock, but they reached the parts of you that you could not with your own hands. Suguru started thrusting in and out, curling his fingers along the way, hitting your g-spot with brutal precision.
“Sug-nghhh, I’m gonna-” 
“Shhh baby, you can let go for me, I got you. So good f’me.” 
With the thumb of his hand, he lightly stroked your clit, and you felt the familiar heat bubbling in your core. After a few more thrusts, and praises from Suguru, you were cumming all over his fingers. He helped you through your orgasm, your head full of wool as you came down from your high. Suguru brought his drenched appendages to his mouth and sucked, cleaning your fluids from his fingers.
“If only curses tasted this good. I can’t get enough of you.”
In your post-orgasm clarity, you realized that your boyfriend was still clothed. That wouldn’t do. You sit up, rummaging through sticky sweats and underwear to pull his dick out. A long strand of precum dripped from his tip, breaking away as you pulled him out of his boxers. His penis would never fail to surprise you; he was of average length, but so thick, you could barely close your hand around him. You wrapped two hands around his cock as your mouth watered at the beautiful sight before you. But, just as you were about to taste him, two of his strong hands pushed you back against the bed, forcing you off of his dick. 
“What was that for? I wanna suck you off,” you pouted.
“Sorry, doll. We can’t waste any cum,” he said as his nose ghosted against yours. 
“But I just wanted to make sure, you never said it out loud. Do you actually want this? Can I actually get you pregnant? Don’t wanna pressure you if it was just a kink.” He looked into your eyes with concern, needing your verbal confirmation to continue. 
“Suguru. Put a baby in me.” 
You think you broke your boyfriend after saying that. He let out a grunt from deep within his chest and grabbed a pillow from the pile that fell off the bed in during your earlier activities. He placed the pillow underneath your lower back and whispered choruses of “I love you,” on your skin. Suguru’s fingertips traced over your skin, eventually grasping your legs, throwing them over his shoulders. 
“I don’t deserve you, doll.” He pressed a quick kiss to your nose. 
“This is called a mating press,” Suguru explained as he grabbed his cock and lined up with your twitching hole. “I did some research as to what position would get you pregnant the fastest, and I think this one has a good success rate.”  He sounded so methodical in his explanation, which was so in character for him. Of course your Suguru would do research into this. He would do anything for you to make you happy. And you would do the same for him. 
When he pushes the head in, you both gasp at the contact. He kept sliding in until his balls slapped against your ass and your pelvic bones met. There was such little resistance, and you let out a sob as he bottomed out. 
“You ok, baby? You’re taking me like such a-a, nghhh- good girl. Feels like heaven in your pussy. My pussy.” It was so attractive when he got possessive over you, your ovaries felt like they were about to burst in more ways than one. 
“Sugu- ngh- move-“ 
Instead of moving, he licked the inside of your upper thigh, dragging his tongue impossibly slow to tease you. 
“NGH- plea-ahhh please,” you could feel tears pricking in the corner of your eyes. He made it so easy for you to fall apart. 
“Good girl, look at you using your words,” he sounded wrecked, his voice gravely with arousal. And with that, he began moving. At first, his thrusts were slow and deep; you could feel every vein and ridge on his dick. His balls slapped against the fat of your ass, creating an embarrassingly loud clapping sound that bounced off of the walls. It felt delicious. 
You weren’t just having sex - he was making love to you. It was emotional and sensual. The tears you felt earlier spilled over on to your cheeks as Suguru picked up the pace, his cock pistoning in and out. He kissed your tears away as you muttered broken moans of both his name and explicits. 
Suguru’s grip was surely going to leave bruises in the morning. One hand was holding your body in place around your waist, while the other kept your leg over his shoulder. He let go of your leg for a moment as he grabbed another pillow that was somewhere in reach, and gently slid it under your hips so that he could reach you at a deeper angle. Your vision went blurry. He was impossibly deep, you thought you could feel him rearranging your intestines. 
Finally, his thrusts started getting sloppier. You knew Suguru was close. 
“Gonna fuck my baby into you,” he half moaned. “Fuck, love, I’m close. Want ya to let go first,” and with that, he moved his possessive, bruising touch to rub your clit. After a few rotations around your nub, you let go, your vision going white as you came hard, your cunt clamping down on his cock.
The vice grip of your pussy is what finally sent him over the edge, and Suguru began to fill you up with his thick load. 
“Thank you, baby, thank you,” Suguru chanted, like it was a prayer, and you were the goddess who was receiving his offering. You laid like that for a while, him still inside, your hips tilted up to keep his cum inside of you. He left a trail of kisses down your sweat-drenched neck as his cock softened in your walls. 
After about fifteen minutes, you felt Suguru starting to fill out again, his body gearing up for round two. 
And then three.
And then four. 
You lost count of how many times you had cum that night. Your tummy sported a small bump with the amount of Suguru’s seed trapped in your womb. You were so full that you couldn’t possibly take any more. And Suguru loved you like that. 
Of course, he loved you always, but this was different. He took one of his large hands and gently massaged your sore, slightly swollen belly, pressing wet kisses all around. 
“I hope our baby looks like you,” you whispered into the crown of his head. 
“I was just thinking the same thing. I hope our baby at least has your eyes. I get lost in them sometimes,” he responded. “Ya know, your eyes are probably my favorite part of you, besides your tummy. And your beautiful brain. And every other part of you.” 
“I love you so much, Suguru. I don’t think I can put it into words. You’re such a good man, so good to me. You’re gonna be the best dad one day,” you confessed.
“Hopefully, that day will be soon,” he smirked, “I’m gonna go get you water and a hot washcloth to clean you up. Want anything to eat?” 
You smiled back at him and shook your head, blowing a kiss to him before he left. 
You expected yourself to be more freaked out by his comment, “hopefully, that day will be soon,” but you couldn’t help but feel excited. Life as a Jujutsu Sorcerer was so unexpected, you never knew when a mission was going to be your last. You decided it wouldn’t be a bad thing to have a little mini Suguru running around, allowing the three of you to finally have the family that neither you nor Suguru ever did. 
… 
August 2007
It was a disgustingly hot day outside. You were so sweaty, you felt your clothes sticking to you, and the humidity felt as if you were walking through a sauna. 
Since it was so unbearably hot outside, you and Suguru decided it would be a nice day to go to a water park. Of course, that meant Satoru and Shoko had to tag along. 
You and Suguru were in charge of packing, as the other two would not have chosen enough food or towels for your journey. They would probably also forget things like sunscreen and umbrellas, opting to fill your beach bags with bottles of booze and sweets. You and Suguru were practically the parents of the friend group at this point; sometimes the other two would even refer to you as “mom and dad.” Suguru would give you a smirk any time this happened, reminding you of the conversation you had back in May. 
After you fought Satoru on the fact that he could not in fact take an entire box of ice cream mochi to the water park, you were set to leave on your adventure. The four of you and your bags all piled in the car of an assistant director. Excitement and easy conversation flowed through the vehicle, as all of you relished in the relief of the cool air conditioning. 
Shoko sat in the front, smoking a cigarette, choosing which CDs to play, while you sat in the back with Satoru and Suguru. Suguru, being the gentleman that he is, gave you the seat behind the driver’s side. You tried to resist, explaining that he and Satoru would have more leg room if you just sat in the middle, but Suguru insisted. 
The four of you finally arrived at the water park about an hour and a half later. 
Maybe this was a bad idea. 
As you walked through the wooden gates, the park was swarmed with families, teenagers, and college students. There were colorful slides entangled in each other at the center of the park, with a lazy river surrounding it. To the left, there was a wave pool with people attempting to surf, and to the right, there was another large pool with buckets of water that would dump on patrons randomly. The lounge chairs were spread throughout the park, and it seemed like the entirety of Japan had come to this one water park to beat the summer heat. 
“Ok guys let’s stay together and try to find some lounge chai-” 
“Shoko! I’m gonna beat you down those slides, ready?” Satoru screamed with glee, like a young child. 
“Hold on, lemme finish this,” Shoko replied, motioning to her cigarette. 
“NO! We. Are. Going. To. Sit. Down. Let’s just stay together, it’s a madhouse here,” You put your foot down. 
“If I wanted to be mothered, mother, I would have gone home for the summer,” Shoko rolled her eyes at you. You just ignored her, too bothered by the heat to even come up with a good comeback.
“I sent out a curse to go find us a spot - wait. Where’s Satoru?” Suguru chimed in.
“Let’s be logical about this. Where is the nearest ice cream stand?” You asked. 
“Ha, there he is,” Shoko nodded her head towards the nearest ice cream stand. In the line of children, there was one with white hair who was almost as tall as the stand itself. Bingo. 
You marched over to the line, and went to tug Satoru by his ear back to the group. Alas, his Infinity was on, and you could not touch him. 
“Oof, I would not wanna be him right now, that one has a temper,” Shoko joked, as she put her cigarette out over the trash can next to them, watching you and Satoru argue. In that moment, Suguru couldn’t help but stare at you, taking in how beautiful you looked against the summer sun. You were glowing, radiant, even as you berated his best friend. 
“I haven’t seen you look at someone the way you look at her.” Shoko broke Suguru’s thoughts, pulling him out of his trance. 
“Yeah.” Suguru responded, smiling. 
“Wow, you didn’t even try to deny it,” Shoko smirked back. “OOooo someone’s in looovee,” Shoko teased. 
“I am. And I’m so lucky. I love her more than anything in the world,” Suguru said with a content sigh. 
“Ok, now you’re just gonna make me vomit, that’s so sappy,” Shoko stuck out her tongue, making a fake gagging sound. 
“It’s true,” Suguru responded, still in his trance.
“What if I can treat her better than you,” Shoko teased. 
“Maybe,” he said, the slightest flicker of insecurity in his eyes. “I don’t think I deserve her sometimes. She’s not as tainted by curses and cursed energy as I am. She’s not the one who absorbs curses day after day.” He looked tired. Shoko noticed the bags under his eyes, but just as she was about to say something, you came running with Satoru’s wrist in your hand, pulling him with an ice cream cone in his hand. The ice cream was beginning to drip everywhere.
“I can’t believe they only had vanilla. What a ripoff,” Satoru sighed, annoyed. 
“You dumbass, you didn’t even get napkins!? How am I supposed to call you a functioning adult, you’re literally about to turn 19, and you didn’t even get napkins?!” You berated him again.
“Oh, looks like the curse found a place for us to sit. It’s keeping the area clear so non-sorcerers aren’t determined to sit there,” Suguru interrupted. 
You all walked towards a little spot in the shade with three lounge chairs and a table. You figured you would just share your lounge chair with Suguru and sit in his lap. Or he could use your lap as a pillow and you could braid his hair. Either worked. 
Just as you were setting out your towels on the chairs, you heard a PLOP and crying following after. A little kid had slipped and fallen down on the concrete. He used his hands to break the fall, and the skin of his palms were broken a little bit, blood splintering through the cracks. He started hysterically crying.
“Oh no, sweetie! Are you okay? Where is your grown up?” you rushed over to the kid. 
“I think I packed a first aid kit in the bag, let me get it,” Suguru added.
Of course he did, that man was prepared for the end of the world.
Suguru took an antiseptic wipe from the kit, and bent down so that he was at eye level with the kid. 
“This is probably going to sting, but it will feel better I promise. Your bathing suit is dope by the way, I love the colors,” Suguru cooed at the kid, trying to calm him down. 
“You remind me a lot of my little brother, his name is Noritoshi. He’s really brave. Are you brave like him?” you added. 
The child stopped his hysterics and let Suguru clean him up, listening to both of your kind words. He nodded his little head of pink hair at your question and pointed towards an elderly man slowly, but frantically making his way over to the kid.
“Yuji! What happened?” the old man asked.
“I falled and getted a boo-boo,” the kid, called Yuji, sniffled. 
“He slipped and hurt his hand, we have some antiseptic disinfectant and bandaids though, so we fixed him right up,” you told the man as he got closer.
“He was really brave,” Suguru added, smiling down at Yuji. 
“Thank you, so much. You two are very kind,” the man said in a monotone voice. Though his voice showed no emotion, his eyes did. His eyes looked tired, but definitely grateful to the kindness of you and Suguru. 
“Feel better, dude!” Suguru yelled to Yuji as his grandfather led him away. 
After about an hour of tanning on the lounges with Shoko, you looked to see where the boys went. It wasn’t very hard to spot the two best friends, as they were acting like children, making big waves in the lazy river. On Suguru’s shoulders, you noticed something: the kid with the pink hair from earlier. 
Suguru and Satoru were having some sort of chicken fight with him, all three of them laughing and having the time of their lives. 
“You are hopeless,” Shoko rolled her eyes, a new cigarette in between her lips. 
“What do you mean?” You replied. 
“Don’t play dumb, I know what you’re thinking,” she smirked back.
September 2007 
“Suguru, you look like you’ve lost weight, are you okay?” Satoru asked, as he twirled a pencil in midair with his Infinity technique. 
“Just tired,” Suguru responded. 
Over the past few weeks, Suguru had developed dark circles and bags under his eyes. He looked pale, and was often exhausted. Not too exhausted for you though, apparently. 
It seemed the two of you spent more and more time together holed up in one of your rooms when you weren’t on missions. It was just so nice in your own little world, away from everything. You didn’t have to care about who lived and who died. You only had to focus on each other. 
Satoru attempted to carry on the conversation. 
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.” 
“You probably won’t see me for a while again.” 
“Yo, what’s that supposed to mean?” 
“I need to get out of here. Both of us do. We’re not fit for Jujutsu Society.” Suguru said, referring to the two of you. 
“Ha, ha, so funny.” Satoru sarcastically added. 
“It’s not a joke.” 
“What do you mean? Dude, you’re a special grade, you seriously think they’re gonna let you quit?” 
It was true. The elders wouldn’t just let Suguru run away and walk free. If he was not with Jujutsu society, he was probably against it. And letting a special grade sorcerer and his grade one partner roam free would pose a threat to the stability of the elder’s iron grip on the status quo of Jujutsu society. 
He’d have to get the elders to denounce and force you out. 
So, here you were, flying with the man who was your boyfriend, your one and only, on the back of a curse, headed out for a mission, and hopefully, some much needed seclusion with Suguru. 
… 
7:03 PM (19:03)
You and Suguru decided to split up for the mission. It had been reported that there was a sighting of two possible curse users and a separate cursed spirit. Thus, Suguru wanted to deal with the curse users, and you to deal with the curse itself. 
You exorcized the curse with ease, using piercing blood to slice the monster in half. There were a few other lower level curses, which you could have eliminated with your eyes closed. It seemed too easy. If Suguru was sent on this mission, there had to be something else, another factor. After a few minutes of patrolling for any other cursed energy residue, you decided to find your way back to Suguru. 
You found him standing outside of a small house on the outskirts of the village. He seemed out of it; he was staring right at the door, but did not enter. As you approached, you saw the strong cursed energy residue leading from the door. 
“Sug, I exorcized those curses. I know you hate the taste of swallowing them, I didn’t want to make you do that if you didn’t have to.” If Suguru heard you, he showed no acknowledgement. 
“Suguru?” You pinched the sleeve of his white collared shirt.
“Dude? Did you hear me?” You squeezed his thick bicep, pushing your manicured nails into his skin, effectively bringing him back from whatever plane of reality he was on. 
“The locals in the village told me this is the home of two little girls, twins. Their descriptions match the ones for the curse users. So…” He insinuated, leaving the rest for you to figure out. His amber eyes were dark and cold. 
“Oh.” You said. You and Suguru had both been through a lot and hated Jujutsu Society. You and Suguru had your incident with Amanai a little over a year earlier, and your uppity clan kept you from your mother, a heartbreaking decision by the family head in order to give you the best possible chance of becoming the leader of the clan. A position which you despised.
Over the past few months, in the afterglow of sex, you two would lay there, embraced in each other's arms, dreaming of a world without curses, without clans, without people to produce those curses. “Monkeys,” as Suguru referred to non-sorcerers, from which curses were created. In your and Suguru’s fantasy world, you wouldn’t even have a reason to use curse techniques. You could get married, have children, live a peaceful life without fear of a curse coming to take that happiness away.
The bottom line is you knew Jujutsu Society was unfair, but never would you think you would be asked to harm a child. What was wrong with these people? You thought of your little brother, Norotoshi, who was also six years old. He was supposed to be your “competition” for the title of family head, but you never really wanted to fight him. He was just your sweet little brother. 
How could you harm someone that is the same age as your little brother? 
A wave of nausea ran through your body as the reality of the situation dawned upon you. Suguru kneeled down on the floor with you, rubbing your back and holding your hair back as you vomited. 
“Shhh, I got you.” He wrapped you in an awkward embrace on the floor, and pressed a kiss to your sweat-sheened forehead. “It’s going to be okay. I have a plan.” Suguru’s entire demeanor changed in an instant. He smiled, but there was no emotion behind his eyes, and his voice sounded like it was coated in honey. 
His behavior was strange, but helped you to feel more at ease. Suguru gave you some hope to cling on to. 
… 
8:46 PM (20:46) 
You were both sitting on the stairs leading up to the front of the house. You were leaning on Suguru as he brushed a hand over your hair, occasionally placing a kiss on the top of your head. You had finally finished sobbing into Suguru’s chest after an hour, the teardrops staining through his white collared shirt. You felt so many emotions. Anger at the broken system. Hatred, for the Jujutsu Society elders. Confusion, for what would happen once you committed to your plan. Grief, for the people in your life that you would lose. Betrayal, from the society that was supposed to protect people. Suguru sat with you and validated your feelings, making you feel like you and your emotions were the only things in this world that matter. 
The plan was simple. You were both going to defect. 
Both you and Suguru were sick and tired of the way the world functioned. You were sick of watching comrades, comrades who were teenagers, who were children, die. 
During one of your late night conversations, Suguru once said, 
“If being a Jujutsu Sorcerer is like running a marathon…
What if what’s at the end of that road…
Is a mountain of our fellow sorcerers’ dead corpses.”
In that moment, Suguru had played it off as some dark joke, but part of you knew that he was right. 
As for the plan, you two were to wait until some of the elders of the village led you into the small house, as they apparently kept multiple locks on it to keep the supposed dangerous young girls at bay. Then, you were going to take the young sorcerers on the back of one of Suguru’s curses and run to Kyoto and find somewhere to stay for the night. Suguru said he would “take care of the rest.” You trusted him with your whole being, even if that meant him ending the lives of a few non-sorcerers. It would serve them right for causing the very existence of curses. 
9:01 PM (21:01)
The two elders from the village arrived shortly after. You took Suguru’s hand and shared a reassuring glance, his thumb rubbing gently over your hand as if to say, it’s going to be okay. Shaking with exhaustion, anxiety, and some of the nausea from earlier,  you slowly made your way up the stairs as the elders parted the shoji doors. The building seemed to be one long room with some sort of wooden cage at the end, almost like the house was made to hold animals at some point. 
The building was dimly lit, but you could see the outline of two small figures huddled together in the center of the wooden cage. Your stomach turned once again, and you tightly squeezed Suguru’s hand.
“What is this?” Suguru firmly questioned, his free hand going up to brush his bangs away. 
The two of you stepped closer to the makeshift prison, and the two small figures were shaking. As you made your way towards the children, they had obviously been beaten. They were covered in dry blood, scratches and bruises. They both had one black eye. 
How could these children, these SIX year olds, legally be kept like this? THESE were the scary curse users that were terrorizing this village? It was disgusting. 
“My grandchild was on the verge of death because of these two,” spit the woman who led you in.
“These two use strange powers and often attack the villagers.” defended the other man in your presence.
Suguru dropped your hand and squatted down to be at eye level with the girls, pinching his nose bridge between his pointer finger and thumb. 
“So you mean to tell me that you monkeys think that these little girls, these children are responsible for the incidents that have been occuring, is that correct?” Suguru grumbled, his voice icy and dangerous. 
“I already dealt with the cause of the incidents, they’re innocent children, what is wrong with you people,” you cried. You were full of rage, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. 
One of the young girls, clutching a well-loved stuffed animal, bravely spoke up and declared, “We didn’t mean to hurt anyone on purpose, they were trying to-”
“SHUT UP YOU MONSTERS!” The elder woman screamed. 
“Your parents were the same. I knew we should have killed you when you were born,” the man added. 
“Exactly, twins are bad luck. We should have known better,” the elder woman snorted. 
Suguru looked down at the girls and whispered something that would not have been obvious to someone who did not know him as well as you did, “It’ll be okay.”
He started drawing a curse from his arsenal of cursed spirits, and gave you a nod. The signal to go ahead with the plan. 
That same silky smooth, almost frighteningly nice, voice that Suguru only used when he was especially angry. 
“Let’s step outside for a second, shall we?” Suguru tutted, producing the same pink cursed spirit you flew on to get to the village. He walked out the door with the two older adults and shot you a glance. 
I’d end the world for you. 
It was the same expression he bore when you confessed your love for each other, all of those months ago. 
The girls immediately stood up when they sighted the curse. They were terrified, understandably so. You moved towards the thick metal lock of the wooden cage and knelt down.
“Hey girls, I’m not going to hurt you, I’m here to help. You’re safe. I know it must seem so scary right now, but me and the other man you saw me with are going to get you out of here.”
You told them your name, and assured them that you were like them. Using your piercing blood to cut through the thick lock, you explained to them about your technique and talked to them about your little brother to keep them (and yourself) calm. 
As soon as the lock broke, the girls ran to you and hugged you tightly. They were shaking, crying, and clinging to your body. A series of thank you’s flooded from their mouths, and you kissed the top of their heads, attempting to dry their tears away. 
“The pink curse over here is going to take us to safety. Suguru, that man who’s talking to them, is also a sorcerer, and he’ll meet us wherever we get to.” you explained. 
You sat the girls on the curse side by side, and then climbed in back of them to make sure they did not fall. Using Supernova, you blasted a hole through the roof, and the cursed spirit started to levitate off of the ground. Quickly, you gained altitude and left the village behind. You covered the girls eyes as you looked back, just to see what was happening. The entrance to the house was ablaze and you could make out Suguru’s cursed spirits crawling throughout the village. 
Shit. Well, there wasn’t any turning back now. 
… 
The Next Morning
Overnight, you had flown the girls to a small hostel on the outskirts of Osaka. You purchased a small, private room for the three of you to stay in. 
As the sky turned from a deep purple to a ombré of orange and blue, nausea from the previous evening returned in full force. You held yourself over the toilet as you threw up what felt like your entire gut. You stayed like that until you heard four small feet walk into the bathroom behind you. 
With the light properly shining on them, you got to see how truly filthy they were. The girl, who called herself Mimiko, had short brown hair that was knotted, matted, and crinkled with dry blood. Her sister, Nanako, was not faring much better. Her blonde curls were also matted, and there was crusted blood left on her forehead. They both were covered from head to toe in bruises, had dark circles around their eyes, and seemed to be alarmingly skinny. 
“Um… are you okay?” Nanako asked. You took a deep breath, happy to focus on something other than your churning stomach for a moment. 
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I think it’s just nerves.” You answered. 
“Let’s worry about you two, I’ll run you a bath, then we can go to the 7/11 across the way and pick up some food. Sound good?” You declared. 
Mimiko’s stomach rumbled. “I think your belly answered for you, Mimiko,” you chuckled softly. 
… 
While the girls bathed, you went down to the Lost and Found of the hostel and grabbed a few items that looked like they would fit the twins: some hoodies, leggings, and a skirt. You also fixed yourself up, washing the vomit out of your mouth and splashing your face with hot water from the sink. 
Once the girls looked decent enough to go outside without raising suspicion, the three of you ventured out to the 7/11 across the street. 
The smell of food was a welcome scent as you walked up and down the rows of food, snacks, and other items. You grabbed whatever you thought a few six year olds would like, and on your way to the cashier, something caught your eye. A row of 100 yen pregnancy tests and other feminine care products. Whether it be a metaphorical gut feeling or the actual nausea that had persisted for the last few days, something told you to purchase a stick to pee on, just in case.You snuck the test into the pile of items you and the girls were purchasing. 
When the three of you got to the hostel, the girls scarfed their food down, and you tried to take little nibbles and sips of water. You put the twins down for a nap. 
You tried your best not to think about Suguru. You didn’t know what to think of him anymore. The man you spoke to the previous night could not have been your boyfriend. The Suguru you knew would never kill without a point. He would never just murder an entire village of people. 
You hoped and prayed that you were wrong. That he didn’t actually harm anyone and just showed off his curses to teach the people of the village a lesson.
Wait.
What if he was killed? 
It was all so confusing. You loved Suguru. He’s the one person who seemed to have love for you, besides your younger brother. 
Noritoshi. A pang of guilt wracked through your frame, heightening the gurgling of your stomach. 
If he murdered those non-sorcerers…you would have been deemed an accomplice. 
 So…
What would he think? 
Your baby brother?
Would he be okay? 
He’s a boy with an inherited technique in the Kamo clan. But would people look out for him? Would they keep him from your mother as well? 
In your spiral of thoughts, you noticed the 7/11 bag on the counter and remembered the supplies you bought earlier that day. You grabbed it as quietly as possible, as to not wake the girls, and stepped into the bathroom, clutching the goods inside. Your hands were shaking from lack of food over the past day and a half, but as carefully as you could, you retrieved the pregnancy test from the bag. 
The box was small, but felt so heavy in your hand. 
Why not? It probably won’t be positive, you told yourself. 
Why do I have to convince myself it won’t be positive, you thought. 
You know what, it will get my brain off of Noritoshi and Suguru for a bit, you reasoned, pulling apart the tucked in top of the box. 
After you fully unwrapped it, you read the directions, and followed suit. You put the test in the cup on the sink of the bathroom, and walked out to see the clock in the room. You waited five minutes until the results developed. 
Wait…this was probably a bad idea.
What were you thinking? 
This was so stupid why would you go and do this in the first place? 
You needed to get some air, your chest felt tight. You felt the nausea creeping back again. 
Suguru, where are you? 
You grabbed a room key off of the counter and slowly walked out into the hallway, desperately trying to keep yourself from waking the girls. One of the first things that caught your eye in the hallway was a vending machine. 
Maybe some soda would help settle your stomach? 
You walked over to the machine and plucked a few coins from your pocket, listening to them clink through the slot. You selected a Ginger Ale and Coke, reasoning that if you didn’t drink it, Suguru would when he got back.
If he got back. 
No. You can’t think like that. 
You took as long as you could getting back to the room, stepping on every other square of the carpeted floors, trying to ground yourself back to reality somehow. You arrived at the door a few minutes later and opened the door. 
The windows in your room were wide open, allowing a little breeze to blow the curtains. You dropped both bottles of soda. 
You had locked the windows before leaving the room. You made sure of it. 
You panicked, running for the girls to make sure they were okay. Alas, they were sleeping soundly, no new scratches or blood on them. 
You turned your attention to the bathroom, where the door was closed and you heard some rustling. 
Slowly making your way towards the door, you lined up your piercing blood technique, in case you were about to be attacked. 
“Baby, is that you?” you heard from the other side of the door. 
“Suguru.” You didn’t know if you should be more frightened or relieved. 
Part of you wanted nothing more than to run into his arms and kiss the scratches and dried blood away from him. Other than that, he looked relatively unharmed. His usual neat bun was not apparent on the top of his head, instead he let his hair hang loose, his bangs tied up in a messy half-up-half-down. He was dressed in all black, a dark oversized crew neck and baggy black sweats. As insinuated by the dark bags under his eyes, he didn’t look like he had eaten or slept in the past day or two. 
“Whose blood is that? Yours? Or someone else’s.” 
“That’s one way to say hello.”
“Answer.” 
“Doll, what’s wrong?”
“Suguru, are you okay?”
“My love, I took care of everything. We’ll be safe for the next few days, alright. We just have to lay low for a little while.” 
“Suguru, answer me.” 
“Shhh, everything is okay, doll. Your body's working overtime right now, and the pregnancy hormones can’t be helping.”
What? 
You stared at him. No way. 
“That test is your’s, right?” he questioned, his face filled with concern. “It’s positive.” 
You stared at him, then at the test. It was. 
“I- I’m gonna be a dad,” Suguru’s face cracked into a sincere smile. 
He picked you up and spun you around, planting kisses all over your head and face. 
“And you’re gonna be a mom! To my baby. Our baby. You’re gonna be the best mommy, you're so good with kids.” 
You stayed silent; you were still processing everything that just happened. 
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he cradled your face gently in his hands. 
You stood frozen, thinking of words to say, but they never made it out of your mouth. Your vision went blurry with water, and the churning feeling you had been trying too hard to suppress returned to your stomach. You gagged, running over to the toilet. 
As you held yourself over the bowl, your body felt like it was trying to expel all of your organs out through your mouth. Suguru leapt to your side and held your hair back as you threw up, rubbing soothing circles into your back. 
“Shhh, baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out, this is just one of the best things that’s ever happened.” Suguru cooed. 
You took a deep breath and wiped any stray vomit from your lips with the back of your hand. 
As you hurled your guts out, you felt his large, warm hand, rubbing circles on the small of your back. The other of his hands went to hold your hair out of your face. 
You stayed like that for about an hour, just sitting there, pondering your impending motherhood. 
Mother. 
You were going to be a mother. 
It simultaneously freaked you out and surprised you. Suguru, the person you loved most in this world, actually got you pregnant. Of course he did. He always stuck to his word.
When that man was committed to something, he was going to have it. He was possessive, territorial even. That made him all the more dangerous, but it wasn’t him you were afraid of or for. You were afraid for the rest of the world. 
I’d end the world for you. 
His promise echoed in the back of your mind. 
“Sweetheart, it is going to be okay. I think I may have gotten too overexcited and freaked you out. You don’t have to keep it if you don’t want to, I’m here for whatever you need. But, thank you. Thank you for this precious gift.” 
It was a gift that forever linked the two of you together. 
… 
September 2007
You found her waiting on a bench in the center of Shinjuku, trying to find something in her pockets, probably a lighter for her cigarette. 
“Hey, need a light?” Suguru asked, offering out a lighter. 
“Hi,” you waved shyly. 
“If it isn’t the criminals, trolling girls who smoke?” Shoko replied
“Just testing our luck I guess, '' Suguru joked. 
“Mmhmm, well, I’ll go ahead and ask. Any chance the charges are fake?” 
“No, unfortunately not
“Then I’ll ask another question, why?” 
“To create a world of only Jujutsu Sorcerers,” 
“We don’t want anymore of our comrades to die,” you doubled down on Suguru’s point. 
“Ha, that doesn’t make sense, but whatever,” Shoko said, picking up her phone and dialing a number. Someone on the other line answered. 
“Hey, Gojo? 
Yeah, found ‘em. 
Shinjuku. 
No way, I don’t wanna get killed.” She said before quickly hanging up.
“Do you have the thing we talked about?” Suguru asked before walking towards the area his best friend was said to be.
“Yes, I’ve got her,” Shoko looked into his eyes, 
“Okay, I love you,” Suguru said, placing a kiss on your forehead and walking off. 
Shoko put her cigarette out. 
“Shoko I’m okay, just, um, okay how do I put this…” 
“Dude, spit it out, you're scaring me.” 
“I’m pregnant.” you blurted out. 
“Shit.” the mousy brunette replied. 
 “No, it’s okay, really, I’m happy, we’re happy, just…scared - ” 
“Did you not use protection? You of all people? The mom friend? Well, now, I guess literal mom friend,” Shoko put her hands in her hair, scrunching it out of stress, “And you’re a fugitive! Both you and Geto have been sentenced to death by the elders. Jesus Christ Y/N, how the fuck are you going to raise a child as a fucking criminal.” 
“I’m sorry Shoko, I-I couldn’t,” your last word was muffled by the huge lump in your throat. You knew Shoko of all people would rip you a new one, but you didn’t expect it to hurt this much. Tears clouded your vision, and you were sobbing so violently, that you started to choke on the snot and water running down your face. People were staring. 
“Woah, dude. Shhh, it’s okay, I’m here now,” Shoko reached down to wipe some of the snot off of your face with the sleeve of her uniform. “Come on, let’s go get you cleaned up, I have some supplies that I brought in my bag.” 
Shoko grabbed your hand and led you into the nearby metro station. You rushed past the crowds of people, until you made your way into the gate. Shoko kept leading you further underground until you reached a room that was sectioned off for mothers and infants. 
“Get inside, we shouldn’t be bothered in here for a while,” Shoko stated, her tone gentle. You walked in, and she locked the door behind you. 
The room was small, but cozy. There was an infant changing table to the right, and to the left, there was a small blue couch with a table next to it. There were a few blankets packaged in sanitary wrappers laying on the side of the couch, and the room was decorated with pastel flowers all around. You felt completely safe for the first time in a while. 
“Sit,” Shoko commanded. You complied and took a seat on the couch. 
“I got one of those portable ultrasound things from the infirmary. I don’t know why we have these things but, hey, it’s coming in handy.” 
“How did you know to bring an ultrasound kit with you?” you asked suspiciously. 
“Oh, Geto told me to bring one. So, I kind of already figured you were pregnant, or you had some kind of internal bleeding. But with the way he was being so secretive, I figured the former.” Shoko replied, fiddling with the machine. It looked like a tiny foldable computer, the probe attached to a wire that fed into the screen. 
She KNEW???
“If you knew, then why the fuck did you make me say it out loud?” you demanded. 
“Because I needed to be sure this wasn’t a trick or something to kill me,” she shot back, “If ya didn’t know, your boyfriend -” 
“Fiancé -” 
“Fiancé, whatever, killed an entire village of people.” 
“I know, but he did what he had to do. We’re trying to make the world a better place, a place without curses, so you don’t have to keep seeing people die.” You refuted. 
“I’m not talking to you about this right now, I’m here to make sure you and the fetus inside of you are okay. You chose your path, and I chose mine. I’m not trying to change your mind, what’s done is done. I don’t support what you two did, but you’re still my best friend. I’m here for you,” Shoko finished and scooched on the couch to give you a hug. You were crying again, fat tears streaming down your cheeks. 
After five minutes, you two finally parted, and Shoko reached into her bag to produce some supplies. She pulled out sanitizer, a bottle of gel, a pair of gloves, and a little blue cloth. Shoko sanitized her hands, and gave some to you as well. She then put the pair of gloves on and asked you to pull up your shirt to reveal your abdomen. Finally, she tucked the blue cloth into your pants, so that the gel would not get on it. 
“This might feel cold. I also don’t really know if I’m doing this 100% right, so, you should probably find someone with a medical degree and not just reverse curse technique to look at you,” Shoko added, the usual banter reappearing between you two. 
She squeezed some of the cold jelly-like substance on your abdomen. You winced at the uncomfortable feeling. Shoko took the end of the probe and started gently pushing it around on your stomach. After about a minute, something appeared on the little screen. 
Woah. 
That’s your kid. Your and Suguru’s baby. You started crying again. 
You loved them already, and only wished Suguru could have been here to see this. 
“Yeah, there’s a whole-ass kid in there,” Shoko confirmed.
“As opposed to a half-ass kid?” You joked. Shoko laughed. 
Next, Shoko reached into her bag, producing a thick textbook. She turned to a page that was marked by brightly-colored post-it notes. 
“Okay, based on this development textbook, you’re probably about 9 to 10 weeks along. Can you use your technique and give me a blood sample fast?” 
9 to 10 weeks. 
That’s a lot farther along than you thought. 
You took a deep breath. “Okay,” and slowly produced a handful of blood from your palm, dropping it with a PLOP into the test tube Shoko held out for you. 
“I’ll run a test on this once I get back to the infirmary at school, I just wanna check your hGC levels to make sure they’re good. But in the meantime, start taking these,” she produced yet another item from her bag. “They’re prenatal vitamins. Also, I know Geto has to have some connections somewhere with doctors. Have him find one for you. I can check on you once in a while, but not all the time or it will get suspicious. I love you, but I’m also an eighteen-year-old who doesn’t have a medical degree yet. I’ll leave first with Satoru to make sure there aren’t any sorcerers around so that you and Geto can escape. Stay safe and healthy, please,” 
“Safe and healthy, coming from the chainsmoker?” You joked. 
Shoko rolled her eyes as she gave you a final hug, exiting the room, leaving you alone with the bag of medical supplies and textbook. 
… 
Mid January, 2008 
As the months passed, you did not think it possible, yet you fell deeper in love with Suguru. He doted on you and the twins constantly, spoiling you with gifts, having his followers help construct a lavish living space for you in the back of the monastery. Mimiko and Nanako shared a large room, their western-style four poster beds were adorned with silks and all of the stuffed animals they could desire. They had large walk-in closets full of dress-up gowns and expensive designer brands.
“Only the best for my girls,” Suguru would say. 
As for you, he had a beautiful master suite built, the double walk-in closet filled with comfortable, yet elegant, maternity clothing and a California king bed dwarfing the rest of the room. The walls were painted white with navy and gold accents throughout the room. 
When he was not tending to his cult, Suguru also kept you close to him as much as possible. Sometimes, he would even have you sit with him as you both tended to his followers throughout the day, him consuming their curses and you collecting their money. 
Though he saw you as an equal, he was still overly protective and territorial of you now that you were carrying his child. He would sit you down on his lap in front of your followers, his hands caressing your now-evident baby bump, proclaiming to both you and the people in the cult that you were a goddess among mere mortals. When the monastery was empty, sometimes he would just sit and hold you, breathing in your scent. You would sit like that for an hour sometimes, him feeling the baby kick against his large palms, trailing kisses up and down your nape. You would curl yourself up as much as you could to put your ear to his chest, his heartbeat drumming with excitement.  
When you weren’t helping Suguru, you were with the twins. Playing with them, going on walks, teaching them little things about the world that they missed while living in that cursed village. They were really excited to have a new sibling and talked about all of the clothes they would dress the new baby in. You had to remind them, of course, that the baby was not a doll. They also threw out name suggestions, but you had to tell them that unfortunately, “Princess,” and “Hello Kitty,” were not appropriate names to call their soon to be baby sibling. 
At the end of your long days tending to the needs of non-sorcerers that were actually useful to your cause, Suguru would have you both change out of your robes and start to cook dinner while you played with the girls. True, he could have hired someone to cook for your little family, but he wanted to take it upon himself to make sure that you were getting all of the nutrients and rest you and the twins possibly could. 
You somehow succeeded in carving out a nice life for yourself under the harshest of circumstances. Sure, it wasn’t the utopia you and Suguru had always imagined all of those nights back at Jujutsu High, but you had a little family of your own and were working towards a better, safer world. 
… 
After he finished tucking the girls into bed one night, you curled up with Suguru on the couch, your head tucked against his chest, and knees in between his hips, using him as a body pillow. One of his hands was around you and the other was used to cradle his head on the arm of the couch as you both laid there. 
None of your pre-maternity pants fit you anymore, so you threw on a pair of Suguru’s gray sweats and a white t-shirt. You practically lived in his clothes at this point. 
He started rubbing small, gentle circles on your swollen belly, seemingly in awe of your changing body. If you ever got insecure about your stretch marks, or how much weight you gained, he would make you stand in front of the mirror in your shared chambers, kissing every inch of your body. In the shower, he would take the time to wash your hair and help you shave. He wanted to let you know that you weren’t alone. Suguru was right there the whole time. 
You felt a fluttering in your stomach where he was rubbing your belly, and Suguru gasped, breaking the serene silence. 
“Hi, baby,” he whispered to your bump. Joy flashed through his tired eyes as his lips curved into a dopey smile. Then, he leaned up to press sweet, wet kisses into your neck. 
“The most beautiful woman in the world. How did I get so lucky?” Suguru cooed. 
“You’re stunning,” he continued, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. 
Since falling pregnant, you were sensitive to the slightest touch. Your fiancé was sensitive to the slightest glance from you. Your sexual appetites had grown increasingly insatiable. 
From his words and kisses, you could feel yourself drenching your underwear. As Suguru’s tongue continued to slither into your mouth, you absentmindedly started grinding against his muscled thigh, the friction feeling delicious on your clit. 
“Ngh- Sugu- p-please touch me. No teasing. Need you,” you moaned. 
“Do you need my fingers? I bet I can take you right now from how soaked you are,” he purred. 
“Don’t care. Want something inside,” you whined. 
“Lemme check you first. Don’t wanna hurt you.” And with that, he felt your soaked, clothed cunt through your pants and underwear. You were so wet, that a dark, sticky patch was starting to form on your sweatpants. You nearly ripped the pants off of you in the midst of your carnal need to have some part of him, any part of him, filling you. 
Suguru got right to work, stripping you of the layers concealing you from him. After a few circles on your clit, he sunk his middle finger into your cunt. There was no resistance; he was able to sink his finger all the way down to his knuckle. So, he added a second finger, which you took just as easily. 
You felt relieved to finally have something for your fluttering hole to suck on, but you needed more. You needed to be stuffed to the brim, completely full of him. 
“Suguru I need you inside,” you gasped, your cunt continuing to clench on his thick fingers. 
“Whatever you want, my love,” he replied, slipping his fingers out. You almost cried at the loss of contact, but you knew you were about to be rewarded tenfold. Suguru pushed his sticky fingers into your mouth as he rearranged the two of you. You licked his fingers clean, and he let out an unrestrained moan at the way you deepthroated his digits. 
Suguru sat you up, and scooted himself against the back of the sofa. He took his length out from his underwear, letting it smack his stomach, the tip weeping precum. Suguru removed his fingers from your mouth and used the remaining spit to cover his cock; a makeshift lube for the two of you. While he stroked himself, you climbed up on his lap and attacked his mouth with fiery, desperate kisses. 
He helped you remove your top, and then shed his remaining clothing articles. When he took your top off, you could tell that Suguru’s thoughts about the day had gone out the window. Suguru always had a fascination with your tits, now even more so that your tits had grown at least 2 cup sizes since pregnancy. He took one of your pert nipples into his mouth, sucking softly and grinding up into your wet heat, letting a grunt rumble through his chest.  
“Love, please,” you cried out, tears threatening to spill down your face.
With your pleading, he helped you to climb on top of him and lined his cock up with your greedy cunt. You slowly sunk down on his dick, feeling every ridge and vein inside of you. You both hissed as he breached your tight hole. 
Finally, you thought. 
Suguru resumed his sucking on your nipple, moaning around your soft mound, sending vibrations through your body. You were so overstimulated and sensitive that you felt like you were about to cum right there and then. 
He could feel that you were close by the death grip you had on his cock. So, he reached one of his large hands down from your waist and found your clit. You sunk your nails into his wide shoulders in response. 
“Give it to me,” Suguru growled on his way to give your other nipple the same treatment. 
The coil in your tummy snapped, the sensations driving you hard into your climax. Suguru moved to nibble on your earlobe, whispering what a good girl you were. 
As you came down from your high, Suguru’s hands moved down to your bump, staring in awe. 
“I told you I love this tummy,” he commented, his large hand splaying across your bellybutton. He pressed his forehead against yours. “I think it’s so beautiful, that your body submitted to mine.” 
“Mr. Geto,” you said with a fake gasp, sarcasm dripping from your voice, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re getting off on my predicament, you pervert.” 
“Touché,” he smirked. “I think it’s hot your body is going through all of these changes, just because of me. You’re mine,” he growled out the last words. 
“I’m yours,” you confirmed. 
“Suguru, I’m tired, I don’t know if I have the energy to ride you like this.” You realized he still hadn’t cum yet, he was probably in pain with the deep arousal he felt. 
“Okay, I’ll carry you to bed and we can finish there,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead and slipped out of you, your juices trailing behind in a sticky string where you were formerly connected 
He then picked you up, bridal style, and started the short walk towards your room. The cool air felt sensitive against your hot pussy and swollen clit, your arousal and cum now rolling in small beads down the back of your thighs. 
He set you on your side on top of your California king mattress, covered in fine fabric sheets. Then, he took one of the large decorative pillows and pushed it in between your knees to allow him easy access to your cunt. This position would also allow some relief to your aching lower back. Suguru knew you loved it when he massaged your back, so he started there, pushing circles into the sore muscle and kissing up your spine. 
His erection rubbed up against the back of your thighs, rendering the both of you delirious. 
When you both couldn’t take it anymore, he finally slipped into your warm, wet heat again. 
“How would you like me to fuck you, love?” Suguru questioned. 
“Slow and deep. Wanna feel all of you,” you drooled.
“Mmm, sounds perfect,” he responded, pressing wet kisses into your neck. With that, Suguru started a long, deep thrust into the depths of your pussy. You felt every part of him; every ridge, every vein. You made a sound that you didn’t even know could come out of you. 
Suguru picked up the pace a little bit, leaving little whimpers and groans in your ear as he rutted into you. Suguru was usually pretty reserved during sex, but he recently started to be more vocal for you. It spurred you on even more, made you even more aroused, which felt impossible at this point. 
“I love it when you whimper-nGHH,” you moaned, as Suguru punctuated the end of your sentence with a particularly harsh thrust. The sex started to feel desperate, animalistic almost. Suguru felt something primal within him snap. He needed to fill you, to stuff you so full, he would watch his cum leak out of your pussy. 
“Suugguuhh-“ you felt your second orgasm of the night closing in on you. 
“Cum with me, doll, lemme fill you, ngh, u-up,” he grunted, moving a hand down to toy with your clit. “You look s-so good, full of me. Ngh- your tummy all round, tits all plump, making milk for my m-my baby,”
For some reason, that sent you over the edge, clamping down on his cock and coming hard. Your cunt sucked him in with a firm grip, and you could feel that he was close too. As he continued to fuck you through your climax, his heavy balls slapped once more against your thighs, and he came with a gasp, a series of, “I love you’s” and “Thank you’s” flooding from his mouth. 
He fucked himself through his orgasm, and finally collapsed into the mattress. After a few minutes, Suguru pulled out, watching in awe as his release dripped out of your hole. His fingers traveled down to the mess the two of you made and swiped his pointer and middle fingers through your folds. 
“I probably sound like a broken record, but I don’t know what I did in my past life to deserve you,” he said, kissing the top of your head, moving both of his hands to rest on your bump again. 
“C'mon, let’s clean you up, doll,” he said, trying to drag you out of bed. But you were already fast asleep. 
Suguru smiled to himself, running to the bathroom to get some warm compresses and clean towels. When he finished cleaning you up as best he could, he made his way to his closet, where he fetched his favorite graphic t-shirt. He handled you with more care than he would a butterfly or a flower as he dressed you, and headed to the bathroom to clean himself up. 
After he deemed himself decent enough, Suguru walked over to your sleeping form and bent down to the level where your belly was. He criss crossed his hands and rested his chin on them. 
“I love you and your mommy so much, little one. You’re so loved already,” he whispered, reaching one of his hands towards your belly. 
Suddenly, he felt a small fluttering beneath his hand. Suguru smiled, his eyes alive with pride and wonder.
… 
The next morning, you awoke to the smell of something delicious. 
And four little feet running across the floor.
“Shhh, Nanako, you’re gonna wake up Kamo-san,” Mimiko warned her sister. 
“It’s okay girls, I’m already up,” you sighed, yawning. “You girls sleep good?” 
“Yeah. Can we get crepes today?” Nanako asked, changing topics rather quickly. 
“It depends on what time me and Suguru get done at the monastery, but there should be enough time. The baby has been craving some chocolate,” you chuckled.
“I have a new name for the baby,” Mimiko declared, starting to climb on your bed.
“Oh, yeah? What?” You scoop her up and bring her into your lap somewhat successfully. 
“Peach. Like the princess,” Mimiko said, matter of factly. She looked down right proud of herself. 
“Mimiko, that’s a fruit. I think it should be Sparkles,” Nanako responded back to her sister. 
“Well, we’ll have time to think about what the baby’s name should be, but for right now…I think we should eat some breakfast and see who can get dressed the fastest,” 
“Geto-san made some breakfast,” Mimiko stated. 
“And I helped,” Nanako exclaimed, attempting to have her voice heard in the conversation.
“I helped too,” Mimiko scolded with jealousy. 
“Why don’t you girls go help set the table too and I’ll be there in a minute,” you said, pressing kisses to their foreheads. 
“Fineee,” Mimiko rolled her eyes playfully. 
You freshened up, brushing your teeth and wrapping your body in a luxurious silk robe Suguru had purchased for you. 
As you made your way down the long corridor and into the kitchen, you could hear the sizzle of something cooking. You turned the corner to find Suguru, shirtless, standing over the stove of your enormous kitchen. You decide to sneak up on him, letting your finger creep around his waist as you pulled him back into a hug. You couldn’t press yourself flush against him, as your stomach got in the way. 
“There’s my girl,” Suguru cooed. 
“You’re making breakfast?” You beamed with tears in your eyes at the stack of American-style pancakes next to the stove. For some reason, this small gesture was making you really emotional. 
“Of course, baby. I let the chef take off this morning to spend some time with my beautiful girls before I have to head over,” he replied, snaking his arm back to grab on to yours and place a kiss on your palm.
It was so domestic. It was so normal. 
“Okay, order’s up. Mimi, Nana, will you help me put these on the table?” Suguru asked.
“Yes Geto-san,” Mimiko sang as she skipped towards the tower of the fluffy, golden deliciousness. 
“Thank you, sweetie,” Suguru whispered, giving her hair a ruffle. 
After the pancakes were eaten, and the syrup had ended up on the faces of the twins and Suguru, you pried the girls out of their seats to get dressed for the day. You and Suguru headed back to your quarters to change into your robes. 
As you let the luscious silk fabric cascade off of your body as down to the floor of your shared closet space, you felt the presence of your fiancé behind you. 
“Hi,” he smirked into your shoulder, starting to press kisses up your neck. 
“Hi,” you whispered back. 
One of his large hands reached down to your bump, caressing it with the lightest of touches. 
“Can I listen to her?” He asked like a giddy child. 
“My love, you never have to ask, you’re always welcome to,” you beam as he excitedly makes his way towards your protruding bump. “Baby’s been hanging out towards the bottom today if you want to feel them move,” you added. 
“Hi baby girl, this is your da-” 
“Baby girl? What makes you think the baby's a girl?”
“What makes you think she’s not?” he quipped, his usual banter-like tone making you giggle. 
“As a wise man once said to me; touché.” The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, soaking in each other’s presence. After all, slow moments like this would be rare when the baby arrived. 
Your peace was disrupted by a loud knock at the door. 
“Geto-sama, Kamo-san, there is someone here to see you, he says it is urgent” you heard Suguru’s assistant shout through the door. 
“Tell whoever it is that they have no right to request my presence. I will meet with them when I am in my proper attire,” Suguru snapped. 
“Of course, master. It’s just… this kid…” 
“No exceptions, I don’t care if it’s Satoru fucking Gojo himself, whoever it is can wait,” Suguru pressed, getting annoyed now. 
“Yes, of course, I wi-AHHHHHH,” a blood curdling scream erupted from the other side of the door, followed by a loud thump. 
Sensing danger, Suguru leapt into action, putting himself in front of you and summoning a curse. “Who’s. There,” he demanded. 
Blood started to leak under the door and into the marble tiles of your room. 
Suddenly, the door flew open to reveal the collapsed assistant on the floor, covered in her own blood. Next to the body, there was the figure of a small boy drenched in the scarlet substance. 
“Noritoshi?” you questioned, tears filling your eyes.
END OF PART I
Tumblr media
dividers by @bunnysrph
204 notes · View notes
angel-of-the-moons · 8 months
Note
I haven’t stopped thinking about that Hobie baby fever fic ever since you posted it. Many thoughts. Many thoughts many many thoughts and ideas many many little ideas.
You have people saying ‘Oh good luck lol kids are SO hard!’ ‘He’s definitely gonna regret it you’re gonna be a single parent’. But Hobie’s probably been WISHING from a young age he could be a parent, the only thing he didn’t prep for is your little one grabbing his wicks and him nervously calling out “Luv, luv help me LUV-”. He learnt very quickly to tie his hair back when he’s holding them. If you have a little girl, everyone always thinks it’s you who’s done her hair for the day or for school. NOPE. Hobie’s been with her in the bathroom since 6 in the morning putting her in braids and buns. Your baby is his whole world and he’ll be DAMNED if he won’t be the absolute best dad EVER ‼️
Oh my godddddddddd my ovaries went 💥💥
The Pitter Patter of Little Feet Pt. 2
Dad!Hobie x Wife!Reader
TW/CW: A lil angst at the start, Fluff. So much fluff.
A/N: I'm basing all my baby prep off of the things I had to do for my nephew. I am unsure the proper care that goes into textured hair but I hope I can do it justice!
Tumblr media
🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸
You remember what people told you, how "someone like him" wouldn't be able to handle being a dad, how he'd leave you. The words said by your mother hurt the worst, the things she said about Hobie. Your father was no better, especially when they found out you two agreed to get pregnant before anything else.
Especially after you put the positive pregnancy tests, the test results from blood work with your doctor, and some baby booties on the table as a surprise.
It was supposed to go like you imagined, right? Happy jubilant crying, hugs, congratulations...
You got the exact opposite, with your parents criticizing everything about your boyfriend, the father of your unborn baby. The man you loved.
"What kind of father would he be? A bad one, just look at how he's dressed! You think he can help dress your child?" Your mother scoffed. "And those awful piercings! I bet your baby will be running around with holes in their face by the time they're six!"
"And what about a job? You can't be the only one to support your family. He's a man, he needs to step up and quit it with that "punk lifestyle". It's not suitable to raise my grandchild in!" Your father grunted.
After your baby was born, you cut them off and had a courthouse wedding, and a little get-together with his friends from the Spider Society. A mix of a reception and baby shower.
Joke's on them! Hobie was an amazing father, and an amazing husband. The moment he found out you two were having a little girl?
Pink. And. Purple. Her style would be all punkish of course.
He got stuffed instruments that crinkled for when she would teethe, some guitar-shaped rattles...
And he would never admit it, but Hobie actually cried, when he got to hold your baby girl for the first time. You guys named her Selena. Selena Brown.
She came out angry, wailing, as if she was pissed off at the world she had only been in for a few moments.
"Already got the spirit! Make a big noise, a big statement. That's my girl!" Hobie laughed, playing with her tiny feet.
After that, Hobie was very attentive. From you working from home, he would help. He'd fetch the breast pump when you needed it, would prep the bottles, and keep Selena occupied while you worked. He would even take the late shifts at night to make sure you got your rest.
As Selena got bigger, her hair became a bit unruly, and at times you had no idea what to do with it. Hobie? He came in clutch. The proper ties, hair masks, grease (if needed), oils, brushes...
The trick was getting the rambunctious one year old to hold still while her father attempted to tame the poofy mass.
It was one day, you got up from your computer only to hear Hobie shout your name.
"Babe! Babe!" He cried out, grunting.
Of course, you made a dash for the living room, only to see your husband with your toddler. Apparently she had moved behind him, her hands clinging to his shirt to help keep her balanced as she bounced on her little chubby feet.
Her big brown eyes gleamed as she giggled, her bottom teeth poking out in the most adorable way.
Well... it wasn't from where Hobie sat.
Selena's little fist had a tight hold over one of his wicks, tugging his head back sharp.
"A lil' help, luv?!" He winced, hissing at you as you covered your face to try and keep from laughing.
"Come on, Bug, give daddy's poor head a rest. He's got enough problems with that mess he calls hair." You tease, scooping up your little girl.
But... even though her grip loosened, Hobie's wick stayed attached to her hand.
"Oh... ohhhhh..." You said, clicking your tongue.
"What! What!" Hobie groaned, trying to tug his head free.
"You made me have a spider baby."
577 notes · View notes
desb3ar · 1 month
Text
You’re Not Helping
Summary: Being funny at the wrong time.
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara and Co. x Spidervariant!Reader
A/N: PLATONIC READER!! You’re pretty much the life of the party <3. This is gonna be stupidly goofy because im in that mood LMFAO. This is veeeeeery low effort because it was a simple idea
——————
There had always been a dangerous flaw that seems to be unchecked. A problematic talent that will always leave your fellow colleagues in harms way with the commotion you’d cause with the insufferable antics you presented on the table. The thing that always happens during any mission, especially when things are quiet and dull. It was your way of keeping the energy and spirits high. What am I trying to say?
You are funny as FUCK.
You always had your way of making quips, like any other spider-being could, but something about your comedy always left people with hurting abs from the constant barrage of funny jokes you’d gunned them down with. It was a relentless attack, friendly fire if you will, because it always ended up with someone laughing too loud and compromising their position. As self-sabotaging as that may be, you wouldn’t do what you did if you couldn’t handle what came next.
Often times, you’ve received heavy critiques from the society’s leader, Miguel O’Hara, for putting people in danger because of your lack of professionalism. Jessica Drew would back him up, sometimes. However, she had never been happier when you joined, your jokes being a highlight of her day. You remembered when Jess and you were supposed to be doing a stakeout, scoping out for an anomaly. You had the villain’s file on hand and started to make the most ab shredding roasts that had Jess shed a tear.
“Lookin’ like a whole bottle of what the fuck.” You’d say.
Jess cuts you a lot of slack because of your high skill in the spider-arts. She takes great pleasure in being paired with you on missions because she always knew it was gonna be a successful and absolutely hilarious one.
You loved working with Jess too, because you yourself are a fan of her sense of humor. You hoped you’d be able to work with her more and more because of the amazing chemistry you two had.
Another person you love to hang out with was Peter B. You and him had busted each other’s guts before when you ate lunch together. Spoke about silly stories that had your food run cold from how engaged you two were. Which was absolutely crazy since Peter chows down given the chance.
Today is different. You were on a mission with Miguel. Before you both went to the dimension where the anomaly was located, he made it abundantly clear he didn’t want the jokes and quips today.
“This is a serious matter and I don’t want you to twist it around to be some joke.” He lectured.
You gave him a thumbs up and complied. However, like the snake you are, fingers had been crossed.
The two of you were in the middle of searching for the anomaly, staking out to be sure that nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Miguel had told Lyla to scan the area, in which she did. She wouldn’t come back till it was done, which was odd for her. It never takes her long to do scans with how technically advanced she is.
So now, you and Miguel are practically playing hide and seek to dig up anything about where the anomaly could be. This dimension was a strange one, it was filled with tunnels… Very echoey… Not good. You two were spilt up to cover more ground, but no luck.
“Damn.” You whined, arms crossed as you kicked a rock. “Where the fffu-. Bro oughta be a D1 camouflager. Where’s Lyla?”
“Dunno’. It doesn’t take Lyla this long to make a scan.” He grumbled with slight annoyance. “Gotta run another test…”
The two of you continued to look endlessly for the villain, but as expected, yet again, no luck. This was frustrating Miguel, everything he planned didn’t fall into line like it was supposed to and he hated that.
It was then that the two of you decided to regroup. Reunited, you took five and leaned against the wall.
“I’m getting the suspicion that the signal is messing with Lyla’s functions… How though…” Miguel muttered to himself trying to figure the dilemma out.
Then, in the silence, you blew a raspberry. The noise bounced off the walls.
This earned you a peeved look from Miguel.
“What?” You asked innocently, holding back a grin.
Miguel somehow managed to roll his eyes despite his mask being up, and turned away from you.
Your comedic side began to surface… This mission is just too stale.
“… Hey.” You spoke up, grabbing his attention with him slightly turning his head to you. “… Knock, knock.”
“Don’t.”
“C’mon… Knock knock…” You pressed. Miguel sighed.
“…. Who’s there.”
“To.”
“… To who.“
“No,” You snickered, “to whom.”
Miguel had the most disappointed head shake known to man when you were trying not to laugh. You gain composure, only by the slightest.
“Okay that was wack- Uh- Oo Oo- What do you-”
“No no- No more.” He said in a hushed yet loud tone.
“What do you call a spider with 10 eyes?” You asked blatantly.
“What-” He said annoyed.
“A spi-i-i-i-i-i-der.”
Okay, that was good.
Miguel sighed heavily… He sounds like he’s smiling, but you didn’t wanna believe it. “Alright alright.”
“One more one more.” You said quickly as you thought up another one. “What… Do you call two Mexicans that play basketball?”
Oh BROTHER.
“… WhAt…” Miguel had to look away.
“Juan on Juan.”
Miguel had to take a deeeeep breath with that one.
“… Okay.” There was a hint of laughter. “You done?”
“How does the moon cut his hair? Eclipse it!” You couldn’t help but laugh. Miguel snickered slightly…
“I… Stop stop we-“ He takes another deep breath, not wanting to laugh. “We need to focus and figure out-“
“Aye aye- I asked how much a roof cost… He said it was on the house-”
“(Y/N). Shut UP.” Miguel was trying to be serious but you were weakening his ability to keep composure, so he demanded with a slight laugh. “We can’t- We gotta mission and you’re-”
“Why was Mrs. Clause unsatisfied with Santa Clause? Because he only comes once a year.”
Miguel nearly lost it, he quietly shouted. “YOU’RE NOT HELPING.”
“ONE MORE… PROMISE….”
“Fine go go go.”
“How do you get a Mexican uncle’s attention?”
Miguel has a feeling he knows where this is going… “How?”
“Tapatio on the shoulder.”
Got him.
He nearly yelled before he covered his mouth. He gave you a playful punch on the arm and it caused the both of you to laugh together.
Hearing him laugh was something you’ve never thought you needed. He had the most goofy laugh you heard, he even snorted, which caused an echo in the tunnels.
“I can’t take you no where.” Miguel said as he was trying to calm down.
It was then Lyla FINALLY comes back with a scan. However, she was holding her oversized phone. She had recorded the whole exchange. You and Miguel looked at her with shocked faces.
“Saving that for memories.” Lyla said as she did just that.
“Lyla? Where have you been? What took you so long?” Miguel said with a clear smile on his face because he hasn’t winded down yet.
“It didn’t take me long to do the scan, I was just wanting to see if they could get you to crack.”
“… LYLA-“
“You got a cute snort too, like a lil piglet-“
“LY-“
“Also the guy is headed this way.” Lyla explained, pointing down the tunnel, causing the both of you to get yourselves together so you can take the anomaly down.
———————
an extension of the goofy head cannons? yes.
118 notes · View notes
vonev · 11 months
Text
The Strings Of Webs (and the ones you’ve woven)
Tumblr media
Miguel O’Hara x reader
Chapter 1: The Beginning Of Something New (and something unknown)
Words: 3.7k
Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, angst, hurt/comfort.
Summary: So—just imagine, one day you’re sitting in your home, enjoying your day off of the usual stressful work you had, only for a mysterious asshole to appear and snatch you away from your home, your safe space. 
Not only that, but he decided to put you in his sick version of a jail and start demeaning your entire existence in front of other strangers that, for some reason, are replicas of each other. Something something Spider-men and the Spider Society, the entire safety and security of the multiverse on your hands, and that you were the cause of everyone’s downfall.
 Yeah, that’s your life now.
Part I Part II 
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“—be wary of glitches around you, contact your local hospital immediately if you or your family encounter symptoms or signs of glitching—“
“—whoever decided we should allow kids to have free lunches in school doesn’t realize that the school needs to be fed too! This is why—“
“—and I said, boom! Spider-man, I caught you red-handed!”
“Spider-man spotted running around the city terrorizing civilians with whipped cream, but witnesses said it was a hoax by some random troll—“
“—on tonight’s news of Daily Bugle, Spider-man has been found dead—“
You halted.
The notion of mindlessly clicking next on the different channels paused when you heard the key words, ‘Spider-man’ and ‘found dead’.
To say you were shocked was an understatement of the century, Spider-man out of all the people in the entire universe was declared deceased should not simply gloss over everyone’s mind.
Your jaw hung open, the words still dancing in your mind like lovers on a weekend honeymoon trip, holding onto each other yet under the surface, something else was brewing.
Fuck.
You wanted to seek out Spider-man, so how are you supposed to, now, if he is dead?
You gritted your teeth out of pure frustration, you had hoped you’d catch him in his act of swinging around your part of the city, just being the friendly neighborhood Spider-man as he always usually does.
You are desperate for an answer to a question, nervously biting down on the skin around your nail as you stood up and paced around your living room for a solution.
Bring him back from the dead? No.
Frankenstein him and pray he would have a sliver of his memory left? No.
Pray? No, God never answers, anyway.
You scratched the itchy spot where the spider bit you earlier, pondering over the chances of you being able to summon his spirit through a summoning ritual in the book called ‘Satanism for beginners: dummies edition’ you found at a random thrift shop earlier.
You weren’t in a rush per se, but then again, Spider-man not being alive meant you would never be able to satiate your raging curiosity.
You shrugged, and mourned for Spider-man in your special little way: making yourself a bomb ass dinner and popping a brand new champagne bottle in his honor, as a salute to his service and him as a whole.
After all, Spider-man would’ve wanted this. You doubt he would want people to gather around and shed tears on his grave rather than share happy encounters together with each other in his memories.
You were only assuming, but he did seem like a sweet kid from the handful of run-ins you had with him.
Letting out a deep sigh, you let your feet carry you to your kitchen, rummaging through the fridge in search of the barely expired package of steak shoved into the far back. You inspected the meat sitting inside the packaging, noting how it was starting to turn a grey-greenish hue. You debated on even cooking it and risking your health, but your stomach grumbled the moment you did and you decided against the better of it and made the meal anyway.
You let the well-seasoned steak sit in the pan with melted butter and rosemary, casually basking it in melted butter once in a while with a spoon with the garlic clove sitting on the side, your other hand holding a glass of champagne from the bottle you popped, taking leisure sips in-between your cooking.
Despite its flaws, the smell of the steak was heavenly.
You give yourself a pat on the back and proceed to nicely decorate your plate with the cut-up steak, bringing it to the living room along with the bottle of champagne for more of it later.
“—Spider-man’s identity has been revealed upon his death—“
On the screen, it showed a picture of a promising, rather young looking man, with messy blonde streaks of hair adorning his face and a nice smile with a glint of joy in his eyes.
He looked like he could’ve been anyone’s kid, and that thought saddened you. You decided to switch to Netflix and brought the blanket over your lap as you leisurely browse the catalogue for what seemed like eternity, your steak slowly going cold.
“Holy fuck, nothing at all.”
You settled for watching a 4-hour video essay on YouTube instead, slowly munching your steak away and huddled up in your comfy blanket.
As if the universe had it out for you, a bright orange glow suddenly took over your tiny apartment space in mere seconds, you snapped your head toward the source and immediately shot an arm up to cover your eyes, the lights were borderline blinding. You tried to sneak glances toward what could’ve caused the commotion, and your heart almost popped out of your chest at the sight of a random portal-looking hole in the middle of your apartment.
And out came the hole was possibly one of the biggest men you’ve seen, standing at a staggering 6 '8 stature you would think he had been an otherworldly entity. You could’ve sworn you saw him tore through the fabric of space and time with what seemed to be blades built into his elbow.
And his suit…
He looked like a Spider-man, with the obvious spider symbol embedded into the front of his skin-tight suit. He was a tall wall of pure muscles, looking nothing like the Spider-man your city has grown to know and love, but how could he be Spider-man—
—if Spider-man is dead?  
You looked into his gaze, a fit of pure rage, disdain and disgust could be felt from where you assumed would be his eyes. After all, they say eyes are the windows to one’s soul. His gaze held onto yours as he slowly approached where you sat, you felt a shiver down your spine that spoke to your soul. And it wasn’t as though he had a face to gauge his emotions by—his posture and the big, intimidating steps he took said it all.
This was terrifying, he was terrifying.
Your breath hitched once he got close enough to see the hair standing at the back of your neck like a frightened cat.
Was it hot in here, or was it just you? Or maybe him?
You had no clue, but you could feel yourself starting to sweat as though you had just run a marathon, and your senses were on high alert with how close the man was to you, your flight or fight alarm blaring like a thousand horns in your head.
He was not good news.
But you couldn’t move.
You felt yourself frozen up, and you wish you had been better at responding because you could’ve, and are probably about to be murdered. You took a gulp of breath, suddenly the feeling of your saliva going down your throat felt more vivid than ever in the small confined space of you and him.
You could see the way he scrunched up his nose with the moving wrinkles of his mask, pulling back from staring you down.
He diverted his attention to the watch on his wrist, fiddling with it before a hologram appeared in mid-air like some sort of Sci-Fi freak show, and a small lady appeared on the screen.
“What is it you want now, Miguel?” She groaned, seemingly annoyed at his advance of calling her out to do whatever he wanted at the time.
“Don’t give me that attitude, Lyla, pull out the files from yesterday,” he wasted no time biting back at her, almost as though he would start a fight with her right then and there if he wanted to.
From where you sat, with your legs tightly close to your chest and your blanket now on the floor, you still held dear to the plate of steak you were enjoying half a minute ago before everything conspired, your grip like a super-glue on the fork you held. You noted the rather adorable appearance of the girl, Lyla, was it?
She had a full body fur coat on with what you were certain was a pair of large, heart shaped glasses sitting on her tiny nose bridge.
“Nuh-uh,” she quipped, staring at her nails like she was bored of what Miguel had to say.
“Lyla.”
“Nope.”
“I swear to God—“
“Good luck with that, Miguel.”
You found it comical how they went back and forth with each other, you couldn’t tell if Miguel was joining in on the fun or he had been genuinely annoyed—and for all you know (and for what you couldn’t) he seemed to lean in on the latter. To be fair, he didn’t strike you as the type to bring fun into the party with what he had shown so far.
“Lyla, could you please show me the files from yesterday,” he paused for a few seconds, as if the next words out of his mouth hurt him physically to say out loud, “with a cherry on top.”
Lyla seemed satisfied with that, you could hear her giggle. “Already on it,” and swiped her hand across the air as multiple screens appeared, some with more content than the others, but amongst all the mumbo-jumbo of information you saw one thing that struck curiosity further into you—
—it was a profile of your face, and from what you saw, you looked absolutely amazing in the picture.
You let out a sigh of relief, at least they had the decency to pick a nice picture of you.
At least when you die, you’ll die looking pretty.
Miguel snapped his head to you when he heard your sigh, the pretend-eyes on his mask narrowed to a dangerous slit.
“Don’t think you’re getting away with this, criminal.”
You don’t know what you were supposed to feel with the way he bit his words at you, hissing, almost. But you felt quite offended—and you had a backbone unlike anyone else that would’ve been in your situation.
“You—you did not just threaten me,” You fought his gaze with the determination and anger in yours, and for a flash of a second, you saw the way his eyes widened—almost as though he was surprised you would rebut him. “You come into my home, ruin my nice dinner, and now you act like I just annihilated your entire family!”
You had placed your dinner and glass of champagne onto the IKEA coffee table in front of you, choosing to cross your arms over your chest as you scoffed in his direction, staring him down (or up?) like a disappointed parent at a teacher-parent meeting conference.
His lips pulled back in a snarl, and if he hadn’t had any ounce of self-restraint; he would’ve been pouncing on you with force you never even knew were possible. But to him, you only sound like a child whining about not getting their favorite toy—which greatly amused him, considering what you have done.
“Funny coming from someone who terrorized multiple dimensions,” he scoffed, inching his face closer to yours by towering his massive figure over you, an act of intimidation meant to catch you off-guard and make you fear him.
But what he didn't know was that you worked at Starbucks—so nothing, and you mean nothing could scare you like the ladies did when they’re on their fifth run of Starbucks of the day, irritated from their job and demanding custom drinks that made you cry on your lunch break. You merely glanced at him, your face stoic and devoid of any signs of fear.
“Listen here, big guy,” you jabbed a finger at his chest, caught off guard by how unexpectedly soft the fabric of his suit was—you could vividly feel the tensed muscles beneath them. “You don’t get to strut into my home via some strange portal and tell me what I did wrong, and for your information, you sound like a massive idiot going on about your ‘multidimensional threat’ bullcrap.”
By the end of your rant, he had already concluded that you were going to be a pain in his ass; and for that, he reached his arm out to grab the wrist you pointed at him with, squeezing it, serving as a silent threat.
The kind that wouldn’t end well if you don’t listen.
And to his dismay, you showed no signs of discomfort, only an increased amount of annoyance he could spot in your eyes as you tried to snatch your wrist away from his steel grip but ultimately failed.
“Listen here, cariño,” he said, sarcasm dripping off of him like honey. “You don’t get to dictate who’s in control after all that you’ve done,” his hold on your wrist now tightened tenfold, and he relished in the discomfort he could see when your face contorted, hearing your hiss of pain.
“Dickhead,” you grumbled underneath your breath, the frustration, annoyance and anger boiling in the pit of your stomach at the sight of him—you held back your tongue from hurling more insults his way. And to your dismay, he caught what slipped between your lips, his face getting closer than ever and you could feel the fan of his breath on the tip of your nose.
“Wanna repeat that?”
“I said—“ you prepared yourself for an attack, a foot to his abdomen would do it, just one quick move and he would be out of your hair as you flee from the perpetrator. “Fucking,” …anytime now—
—“Dickhead!”
In an instant, your foot connected with his abdomen, and you kicked. The next few seconds were a blur—his eyes widening at the feeling of your foot on his torso and the actual impact it had. You were frightened at the way he was pushed off of you and into the wall behind him, the strength of your kick causing the wall to give in from the sudden pressure. You could’ve sworn you saw the massive dent in the walls when he slid down—but you wasted zero milliseconds pondering any thoughts you may have.
As he slowly gathered his senses, you were already out of the apartment, bolting.
The adrenaline started to kick in as you practically ran for your life like you’ve never had before—that was because you didn’t have to until now.
You didn’t have to turn around to hear how Miguel had busted through your apartment window, the way the ground shook (or was it just you?) as you felt the weight of his limbs and how they carried him fast.
He was approaching.
And God, for once in your life did you wish you dead.
You would figure out how to explain to your landlord about the broken window and crumbled walls later—for now, survive.
But somehow, you outran him—choosing to swerve your way past the innocent bystanders in a zigzag manner as you yelled ‘sorry’ and ‘forgive me’, if you had learn anything from watching animal documentaries, it was to escape predators by confusing it thus your zigzag marathon.
You were frantically praying to something out there that your strategy was working, because if you paid attention, you would feel the way he was borderline breathing down your neck, toying with you. Your heartbeat thumped in your ears, edging the thin thread of going deaf with how loud it was.
The people you rushed past all collectively gasped and ogled, some even cheered, and you could just tell he was on your tail.
That’s no good.
Your eyes noted the sight of an entry to an alleyway, it was your only chance to survive his borderline murderous attempt at capturing you as you skillfully took a swift turn into the alleyway, your back immediately met the wall as you tried to calm your haggard breaths—you did not want to be spotted by him.
A flash of blue and red rushed past the corridor where you hid, and after a few seconds of no signs of activity of him being near you—you let out a small sigh, one that you had been holding on to dear life.
If you had known any better, you would’ve spotted the sight of his feet above you at the top of the building, crouched as he watched your every move—the way your body suggested your relaxed state and how you strut deeper into the alleyway; big mistake, in his humble opinion.
With the thought in mind that you had effectively avoided Miguel, you slowly caught your breath, your chest heaving as you wiped away the huge amount of sweat that gathered on your forehead. You started chuckling, in your adrenaline high, you weren’t able to hear the way Miguel stealthily fell on a balcony closer to you, how he dropped behind you without as much as a ‘thud’ coming from his soft landing.
To you, you just had the chase of your life—and to your utter surprise, you managed to swerve off a man of a stature and agility like his; it was enough to warren yourself a pat on the back as you felt a smile tug at your lips.
“Having fun?”
Shit. Shit. Double shit.
You were a goner.
Your senses were off the charts now, tingling like a spider crawling all over the back of your neck, sending a shockwave of shivers down your spine. You could smell him, that or your senses were starting to betray you. For a flash of a second what felt like claws tugged at your ankle, causing you to tumble over onto your stomach as you let out a loud yelp in pain.
He had caught up to you, to your unfortunate self, evident by the weight of his foot pressed against the small of your back, applying an immense amount of pressure that caused you to cry out in pain.
“Fucking—how?!” You shouted, your throat hoarse from all the yelling and screaming activities you had been conducting, your high slowly wearing off as your mind instantly jumped into a new stage of emotions you’ve never truly felt before: the utter fear that sent chills down your very core, the burning fire running amok in your nerves, and the loud banging headache you felt when you were knocked down.
“You let your guards down,” Miguel found utmost amusement in the way you squirm underneath his foot, your arms struggling to catch a hold onto something, anything. To him, it was just an ordinary chase on the daily he would frequently experience, running off of the high that it gave him as he bent over to look into your gaze; filled with so much hatred and disdain—and all for him.
It excited him, almost.
But to you, having led the most normal life ever of an average person, being chased by a multidimensional superhero who could traverse the universe within a flick of his wrist was never part of your scheduled programs. And at this moment, you had no idea what to believe in anymore.
The universe was playing a cruel joke on you, and they are laughing.
You caught his gaze and could note the way his pretend-eyes glistened with a bundle of emotions: rage, annoyance, a murderous intent, and excitement. All seething and hissing underneath that stupid mask of his. If he was honest to himself, the situation was the most fun he had in a while.
“Next time,” as he got closer to you, his voice turned into a mere whisper, “Try not breathing so hard, cariño.”
With what you would assume was your death approaching in the figure of a bear for a man—his mask dissipated within an instance in pixels, his face now bare to you as he only got closer and closer, your eyes blown wide open with fear and the pace of your breathing picking back up into a brutal pace as anxiety swelled in your chest.
He had lifted his foot off of your back only to engulf you in his pair of strong, tree trunks for arms. You watched the way his jaw hung open, the light bounced off his fangs, the glint almost blinding you as you merely laid there, spent and mentally exhausted in his arms.
This was it.
This was how you would die.
In a game of predator and prey—and you were the prey that thought they got away.
And for the last few seconds of what you assumed to be the end of your life—you struggled against his hold, yet no attempts of yours were successful at feigning him off of you. He had the audacity to chuckle at your effort, like they meant nothing to him.
Because they didn’t.
To him, you were just an average, unfortunate prey becoming the meal he would treat himself to every night as a reward for his hard work having slaughtered you for his satiations; that being hunger and self-fulfillment.
And because he eyed you like one.
It was hard to miss the red glow in his iris, dominating the ring with his pupils blown out, looking like a crazed man with an addiction—and he had found his drug.
“Relax, you’re only making it harder for yourself.”
He brushed aside your hair, exposing the vulnerable spot of your neck—you could feel the way the tip of his fangs teased the bare skin on the back of where your neck and shoulder connected in a junction, taking his sweet time as his fingers traced up the sides of your arms, you could feel the bruises starting to blossom on your skin in response to his iron-like grip.
And before you knew it, he sunk his fangs into you, breaking your skin as you could only struggle even more so in his hold in pathetic attempts at escaping.
It burnt.
Oh God it burnt so fucking bad.
If you had thought your nerves were on fire before, they were quite literally bathing in a pool of lava by now. The venom has slowly integrated itself into your blood flow, inviting itself in like that annoying neighbor’s kid you never liked barging into your home.
You felt downright violated.
But you were helpless.
And for what felt like the last moment of your life, you could only sob, feeling the bubble of tears bursting and swimming down your reddened yet ghastly-looking cheeks like fish in the ocean. Consciousness slowly started to seep away like grasping at sands—little by little, they would be gone. Your vision gradually declined on you every second.
And along was what little dignity you had left as you slumped in Miguel’s arms, lifeless.
255 notes · View notes
acourtofthought · 8 months
Text
SJM didn't even realize she was setting up Elucien to be the Regency couple of the year when she wrote ACOTAR
"A rake is a particular type of romance hero—a loveable scoundrel whose goal in life is to enjoy being single"
“Ah.” Lucien chuckled. “Well, Tam’s not the only one who gets to perform the rite tonight. Once he makes his choice, we’re free to mingle. Though it’s not the Great Rite, our own dalliances tonight will help the land, too.”
A cork popped, followed by the sounds of Lucien chugging the bottle’s contents and chuckling with a muttered “Brushed.”
“I’ll have you know that while you two were dancing with the spirits, I was stuck on border patrol.” Tamlin gave a pointed cough, and Lucien added, “With some company.”
"Many a Regency heroine has gone to London to have a ‘season’ in the hope of finding a husband.
“We can’t afford a dowry,” I continued, and though my tone was firm, my voice quieted. “For either of you."
But we had nothing—absolutely nothing—to entice any suitor to take my sisters off my hands.
“Isn’t that right in the middle of the season?” The socialite season, which had ended a few weeks ago, apparently, full of parties and balls and luncheons and gossip, gossip, gossip. Elain had told me all about it at dinner the night before" / “And I’m surprised you don’t have a line of suitors out the door, begging for your hand.”
The ball my father was throwing in my honor was in two days, and the house was already a flurry of activity. Such money being thrown away on things we’d never dreamed of having again, even for a moment. I would have begged him not to host it, but Elain had taken charge of planning and finding me a last-minute dress,
Elain, who flitted about the room, personally greeting each guest and dancing with all their important sons.
"Known as the “Ton,” they were comprised of a few hundred wealthy families whose strict codes of conduct, fashion, and social customs dictated who and what was socially acceptable"
—a faint gleam in Tamlin’s eyes at that—“and being with females who were a far cry from the nobility of the Autumn Court.
“Lucien fell in love with a faerie whom his father considered to be grossly inappropriate for someone of his bloodline.
Though the tunic isn’t as pretty as a dress.”
Though she was bundled in a threadbare blanket, her gold-brown hair—the hair all three of us had—was coiled perfectly about her head. Eight years of poverty hadn’t stripped from her the desire to look lovely.
But once she did, she let that snowball roll down the hill.
"The idea that rakes are redeemable is their most attractive quality."
“You know it’s … hard for him, where females are involved,” I said neutrally. “He has been with many females since the death of his lover.” “Perhaps it’s different with you—perhaps it’d mean something he’s not ready for.” I shrugged, searching for the right words. “Perhaps he stays away because of it.” She considered, and I prayed she bought my half lie.
He’d always had a casual grace about him, but here, tonight, with his hair tied back and jacket buttoned to his neck, he truly looked the part of a High Lord’s son. Handsome, powerful, a bit rakish—but well-mannered and elegant.
I asked Lucien to escort me, and he’d been more than happy to do so, given that his own status as a mated male made him uninterested in any sort of female company these days.
“I’m a mated male now.”
"Clothing and shoes served as necessary survival tools in the 18th century as well as powerful ways to communicate status, ideas, and a person's role in society. Fashion was a very important way that people expressed their ideas and economic status during the 18th century."
He had to give Lucien credit: the male was somehow able to move between his three roles—an emissary for the Night Court, ally to Jurian and Vassa, and liaison to Tamlin—and still dress immaculately.
Elain … She’d taken one look at us in the swaying grasses outside that wagon, the legs and assets on display, and turned crimson
"I'll be right back," she murmured and hurried down the hall before I could explain that no one care if she showed up to dinner covered in flour.
Elain had let her golden-brown hair down tonight, and pinned it back with twin combs of pearl.
Gone was the ill-suited black dress from the ball, replaced by a gown of amethyst velvet, her hair half-up and curling down to her waist.
It wasn’t a formal dinner by any means—though Lucien, standing near the windows and watching the sun set over Velaris, was wearing a fine green jacket embroidered with gold, his cream-colored pants showing off muscled thighs, and his knee-high black boots polished enough that the chandeliers of faelight reflected off them.
"By the 17th Century (and beyond), ribbon usage was vast. It showed purpose in extravagant garments, hair accessorizing, and ornamenting furniture and linens. With the demand for the material rising, Coventry, England and Lyons, France became capitals for ribbon production and design."
Even during their squabbles in the cottage, fighting over who got clothes or boots or ribbons, it had never been like this.
"Regency's formal décor has recently made headlines and piqued interior designers' interest thanks to the series "Bridgerton." / The Regency period was one of elegance and opulence, luxuriousness and grandeur" / “The Regency is loud, glamorous, colorful, and much less stuffy "
Elain cut her a look. “This house has needed a woman’s touch for years.”
He tried to sound casual—comfortable. Even as his heart raced and raced, so swift he thought he might vomit on the very expensive, very old carpet. From Sangravah, if the patterns and rich dyes were any indication. Rhysand was many things, but he certainly had good taste. This entire place had been decorated with thought and elegance, with a penchant for comfort over stuffiness.
"Neither a lady nor a gentleman discussed private business in the presence of servants."
Possibly a factor in why we don't see Elain and Lucien interact when EVERYONE AROUND THEM US EAVESDROPPING! 😂
"A well-bred person maintained an elegance of manners and deportment."
Elain flinched again, her face coloring. Nesta snorted. “You’re living amongst beings who have none of our human primness, you know.”
Elain had blushed muttering about the impropriety of such things
He wasn’t sure if she truly meant to address him, but he said, “No, lady. I cannot.”
“I’m going to assume that one of those cups belongs to your sister.” “Do you mind if I help myself to the other?”
“There’s a plate of biscuits. Would you like one?”
The sound seemed to startle Elain, who swiftly set down her teacup. She rose to her feet, and Lucien shot to his. “I’m sorry,” he blurted.
“I’m sorry—if that unsettled you.”
"A lady did not engage in any activity that might give rise to gossip."
No wonder nobody knows what the hell Elain does or thinks 😂
"It was unacceptable to owe money to a stranger."
"I can't stand to be in this court and have your mate pay for the very clothes on my back"
"A well-bred person walked upright, stood and moved with grace and ease."
“I’ll do it,” Elain said, taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders. She didn’t wait for either of us before she strode out, graceful as a doe.
He’d always had a casual grace about him,
"A well-bred person was never awkward in either manner or behaviour and could respond to any social situation with calm assurance."
“Nesta, please,” Elain murmured.
She put a hand on Nesta’s knee, the purple of my sister’s gown nearly swallowing up the ivory hand. “Feyre gave and gave—for years. Let us now help her. Help … others.”
Elain crossed her arms and said calmly, sadly, “Feyre warned me this might happen.”
“I still wanted to come,” Elain went on with that focused calm, the quiet steel building in her voice. “I wanted to see you, to explain.”
The male had grown up alongside Eris. Had dealt with Eris’s and Beron’s cruelty. Had his lover slaughtered by his own father. But Lucien had learned to keep his cool.
Lucien threw him a withering look. “I’m not your enemy, you know. You can drop the aggressive brute act.” Cassian gave him a grin that didn’t meet his eyes. “Who says it’s an act?” Lucien let out a long sigh. “Very well, then.”
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
102 notes · View notes
hiveworks · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
June is winding down, but our recommendations are never ending. Now is also a great time to remind you that our creators are supported by ad rev. When you read these comics, be sure to white list their websites and support your favorite creators!⁠
Ghost Junk Sickness by @studiocartridge
Trigger Elliot is a bounty hunter who travels around the galaxy with his not-so-fully-licensed-and-technically-illegal-hunting-partner Vahn Gavotte. They're lousy at what they do and often resort to petty tactic just to get a bounty. This is their life. Their home planet, June 7, is a world rebuilding itself form an inexplicable catastrophic phenomenon that destroyed 75% of the planet's surface. It has been 5 years since the destruction of June 7 and the planet now thrives on the transient and growing population of bounty hunters. Trigger and Vahn's routine changes when an ambiguous huge bounty surfaces; an alleged bounty hunter killer named "the Ghost" with frightening abilities and an unknown motive. When Trigger's past catches up with him, there begins a strain on his and Vahn's hunting dynamic, forcing them to become further involved in chasing the elusive and unpredictable ghost. Ghost Junk Sickness is an action packed sci-fi LGBTQ+ comic created by CARTRIDGE.
Kochab by Sarah Webb
Kochab is a YA wlw fantasy comic about two girls lost in a pile of ruins under the woods, inspired by various myths and fairytales. A lost skier trying to survive a snowy wilderness and find her way back to her village stumbles across and awakens a fire spirit trying to fix the home that she’s let fall apart around her.
Shaderunners by Alex Assan & Lin Darrow
A thousand years ago, the last colour in the world faded to grey. Now, after the great archaeological discovery of Queen Sorizahana’s shade-stocked tomb, it stands ready to enter the world again. Ironwell City will become the birthplace of the burgeoning colour industry, where colour is pumped out of factories, poured into perfumed bottles and sold at exorbitant prices to those wealthy enough to afford the luxury. At least, that’s the plan according to the Five Financiers of the Sorizahana excavation. One part Prohibition fantasy, one part Robin Hood, and a whole lot of epic heist, Shaderunners follows a group of ragtag bootleggers and bohemians who band together in an effort to steal colour from the wealthy echelons of Ironwell’s high society. Among them: a philosopher, a puppeteer, a gutter rat, an opera singer, a naval officer and a hopeless romantic. Together, they run The Glass Dial, former watch shop and future night club, where all the house drinks run red. Speak easy, pal, ‘cause the road to ruin is paved with good intentions.
Augustine by @windywallflower
Augustine follows the adventure of August and her friends: Brick, Heti and Ande as they survive in the perilous region known as the Crater. You can call them all Trouble (with the capital T) as they wrack up bounties for their rowdiness, most especially from the local head honcho Tanto the Bull. During these escapades, however, the group stumbles into an ancient artifact, a possible piece of an old myth surrounding the Crater. This discovery soon leads them down a path of chaos, chased by bounty hunters and old forgotten gods. This comic uses aspects of Greek Mythology, and delves into concepts of ancient relics and the deities they represent and what it means to find your own family.
183 notes · View notes
bottlespiritsociety · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
Bottle spirits are small, curious supernatural creatures that reside all across our natural world. From the forest to the coast, deserts to swamps, even within large cities, you will find bottle spirits scurrying in lost corners and forgotten places.
1 note · View note
aphroditeslover11 · 7 months
Note
Hiii! Loved the last fic and wanted to send another request :). What about a Tommy x Reader where Reader is wild and also she loves partying, drinking ect. :)
For some reason this just came out as semi-extended headcanons, I was feeling a bit hopeless and couldn’t come up with a decent storyline to fit. I hope this was still ok 🩷
Party Animal
Tumblr media
Warnings: alcohol consumption
Tommy himself enjoyed a drink, but it was always quite sedate with him. He would share a bottle of whiskey with his brothers at the Garrison on a regular basis, but it never turned into a raucous party, usually just being accompanied by a business discussion before the boys would head off home.
You, on the other hand, seemed to live for partying. Tommy had met you in London, in a nightclub that the Peaky Blinders had just taken over. You mixed in circles of young artists, writers, philosophers etc. who wanted desperately to push society into the future, for them wild parties were a part of this.
When the Blinders had taken over your favourite club everything had changed, gone were your favoured cocktails, the Birmingham boys simply selling beer and hard spirits, not understanding how to cater to the young metropolitan audience. You had been the one to have the balls to corner Tommy, who you knew was the new owner, and insist that things were put back to how they were. He was impressed with your gall, asking you to dinner, which you agreed to on the pretext that he agreed to your demands. The next evening you arrived to find that he had employed a new staff of bartenders, you didn’t know that he had tempted them away from the best establishments in London with a huge pay increase, wanting to impress you with only the best.
After you got to know Tommy better he’d start to come to the odd party with you, these being the first times that he saw you properly drunk. He wouldn’t know how to react initially, you would be chatty with everyone and insisted on introducing him to everybody, which his introverted self hated, and he was far more reticent to dance with you than you would have liked. Alcohol certainly had very different effects on the pair of you, it seemed to buoy you up whilst it weighed Tommy down.
In a bizarre way though, even though he came to dislike your parties intensely, he liked being there for you and knowing that he was the thing standing between you and any possible disasters. It made him feel important to be the person who be responsible for getting you home in one piece.
There were still occasions though when you would take things a little too far, sure he would make fun of you when you were left barely able to stand up straight but he would always be there to hold your hair back if things hit their worst. The morning after you would always be given a lecture about being more careful, but it never made much of a difference. His worst ever revenge on you would occur one day when you had been out with a friend to celebrate her recent engagement, leaving Tommy behind at home only to return in an absolute state at 4:00 am. He proceeded to make you go on a 6 hour horse ride with him and his brothers, practically daring your hungover self to throw up over the side of your mount.
Overall, though Tommy was far from a party animal himself he loved seeing this trait in you. He felt as if you brought a bit of friendly chaos back into his life, reminding him that there was an existence beyond the guns and the mud of Small Heath.
112 notes · View notes
tanith-rhea · 1 year
Text
Only Pretending #9
Word count: 2.2k Author's note: Ok, so that's it! My first ever long(ish) fic for the Larissa Weems cult fandom! @anti-bright-places, thank you so much for this wonderful request. I had a lot of fun writing this one and it was all for you. I hope you enjoyed the ride.
Tumblr media
“Glad to see you back alive,” Vlad drawled as he sat beside you at the table. Chatter once again filled Nevermore as the students used their lunch time to update their friends on all the break gossip.
You smiled at him. By his cheeky grin and upturned nose, you guessed he had received the blood you and Larissa got on the way back for him. You didn’t know much about outcast society, but Larissa looked far too adorably excited when you asked if she knew a place that sold beverages for vampires and diverged a bit from your original route to take you to “my favourite winery around these parts. I’ll buy some more cherry for you and maybe a bottle of scotch.”
“Do you understand me now?” he asked, surprising you since you were expecting an “I told you so” or “Got into her skirt, then?”
With a fondness only Vlad managed to ignite in you, you replied, “Yes. I know behind all the shenanigans and scheming there’s wisdom, which is frankly irritating. And you were right… we were very blind, weren’t we?”
“Frustratingly so, yes,” he said with a deadpan, “But also very amusing. I’m only a bit sad that I don’t have free entertainment anymore.”
“Hey!” you shoulder-bumped him, but you were both chuckling.
“I’m proud of you.”
“Shush, stop being nice and call me an idiot child for taking so long,” he laughed at that, earning the attention of a few other staff in the room.
“Oh, I will. I just thought you’d appreciate recognition before weeks of berating,” he chuckled a bit more, kissed your cheek and puffed into a bat, flying away.
Classes went as productively as one might expect after a break, but you didn’t mind too much since you were also in high spirits. Listening to some students talk, you even discovered that there were some normie communities in which outcasts could go trick or treating safely and enjoy the date with other kids and made a mental note of mentioning it to Larissa. You knew it would make her smile.
On Larissa’s note, Enid seemed to have kept her word, for no one looked at you any differently and you heard no whispering teens when you walked through the corridors. You and Larissa weren’t the talk of the school, even if, for some reason, you’d wished Enid would have said something and everyone would have known by now.
Of course, you trusted the girl, but at the same time, it meant that you would have to make the decision. Maybe Larissa would want to wait for Christmas break, and you could understand that, but it also meant keeping away from her in public. No handholding, no longing looks. It would be torture, but you’d endure.
You wouldn’t have to behind closed doors though, and that’s why as soon as classes had ended, you went to your quarters to shower and wear something comfortable before hurrying to her office, where you knew she was still working.
You knocked, and a curt “Come in” sounded from within. You could bet and win that she hadn’t taken a break the entire day.
She was, as predicted, typing on her laptop when you entered. When she glanced up to see it was you, she stopped and gave you a small smile.
“Let me guess, you drank no water and ate nothing the entire day.”
She arched a brow with and smiled smugly, “I made sandwiches and tea this morning.”
“How much tea?”
“A cup?”
“For an entire day?” it was your turn to look smug as you walked around her desk to recline against it in front of her, successfully blocking her view of her arm extension of a laptop.
She didn’t stop you when you leant forward to leave a chaste kiss on her lips, just held your face to keep you close a little more.
“Your mouth is dry,” you whispered, dropping the smug act, “I think you’ve worked enough for the day.”
Larissa’s office led to her private quarters. You had to chuckle at the paralleled to her work and life balance, that her office and bedroom were separated by a simple oak door.
“That’s how you always know where people are when you send for them?” you mused, looking through the windows at the other end of the room. Combined with her office, Larissa had a good view of two of the three sides of the school that weren’t surrounded closely by the forest.
“I think the ones who lived here before the school liked to have an idea of where the house staff were at.”
“And it doesn’t hurt now when you want to spy on your own staff,” you arched an eyebrow, looking back at her, Larissa’s indignant face was priceless.
“I’ll have you know I have much more important things to do than spying on you, you little-“
“I never said me…”
She was stunned silent for a beat too long, “Anyone, for that matter!”
You tsked, enjoying too much riling her up, “I don’t think Wednesday would agree with you on that front.”
“Oh, the girl had trouble written all over her and you are starting to seem the same. Should I keep an eye on you?” she approached, more comfortable having earned a blush from you.
“I don’t remember complaining…” you breathed, and her hand circled your waist, bringing you closer.
“Imbalance of power, stalker behaviour, any other red flags that turn you on?” you snorted very unprettily, hiding your face on her chest.
“Fuck you. You know damn well it’s because it’s you,” one of her hands came up to your back, encasing you in her warmth.
Her voice was soft when she spoke. “I’m honoured you trust me,” then she distanced herself a bit, only to come back for your lips.
She kissed you slowly as if savouring the taste of your mouth like good wine, deeply and focused, committed to cataloguing every inch of it to memory, every movement and your response; how your hands fisted her dress when she sucked on your lower lip, the way your breath faltered when she bit down on it, and how you melted when her fingers wove themselves into your hair and kept your head in place.
You were completely at her mercy and all she did was kiss you for a few minutes. It was impressive how you could disregard your need for air, but in your defence, you had something far more important to focus on.
Her hand on your waist brought you with her to the large bed in the middle of the room. You had a faint memory of how tastefully decorated her chambers were, but the soft-looking duvet atop the enormous mattress was clear in your mind’s eye as if burnt behind your lids.
She turned to sit you on it without ever breaking the kiss, kneeling in front of you. When her hands descended to the waistband of your trousers you scolded yourself for wearing simple black cotton panties. She would probably be wearing lace, looking divine with desire burning in her mesmerizing eyes, although you could argue that she looked breathtaking in anything, anyhow.
She unceremoniously hooked her fingers in the waistband and pulled your trousers down, with efficiency and grace you had only ever seen her sport. Her fingertips travelled from your ankles, through your calves and to your thighs; you were struggling to breathe more than ever, and she noticed, leaving your lips with a small smile.
“Let me take care of you,” she whispered, and her hoarse tone betrayed how affected she was by the little you had done so far.
In a titillating show of strength, she laid you on the bed and straddled you. You had barely any time to recover before she descended onto your jaw and neck, sucking extendedly where one met the other; you could feel your pulse against her tongue accelerate more and more.
“Larissa…” your white-knuckled fingers held her shoulder and nape desperately as you whined her name, asking for what you weren’t sure since what she was doing could (ashamedly) very well finish you.
“Shh, darling. Be patient.”
You wanted to say you would love to, but your body wasn’t interested in being so. You almost did, but then one of Larissa’s hands slid underneath your sweatshirt, leaving a path of goosebumps in its wake, and you weren’t able to concentrate enough to vocalize any previous thoughts.
Her fingers found your breasts, and she circled and pinched your nipples while continuing her exploration of your neck, slowly making her way to the little of your collarbones she had access to.
Her weight on your legs kept you from moving too much, but it didn’t stop you from writhing and rising your back from the bad, muscles tightening under her expert attention. You took deep breaths in and held them for as long as possible in the hope of some sense of relief but to no avail.
Interrupting her torture for a few seconds, Larissa occupied herself with pulling off your top. You weren’t given too much time to recover, though, because she would lavish every new expanse of uncovered skin with loving kisses.
Once you had only your underwear on, Larissa sat back, appraising you with deep breaths and hungry eyes.
“You are perfect,” she murmured as her gaze came from your body straight to your eyes, “Absolutely exquisite,” she breathed and, in a second, she was at your mouth again, fiery and demanding.
Her hands gripped the back of your thighs, bringing your legs over her shoulders. You tried to grind against her, and you almost thought she didn’t let you on purpose, but soon enough you felt fingers pressing on your drenched panties.
Larissa’s small laugh on your mouth had your hips jerking, throwing yourself against her fingers. She swallowed your loud mewl with a hum, massaging your clit over the fabric with her thumb.
“See?” she muttered, “Such a perfect, good little girl.”
You whined in protest, and electricity ran through your body at her arched brow and rumbling words.
“Oh? You’re not a good girl?” she asked, innocently, and you shook your head desperately, unable to form words and dying for her to read you, “So you’re what? My plaything?”
“Fuck…” you breathed pathetically as her index and middle fingers started tracing up and down your entrance.
“I didn’t know I had found myself a whore,” she grumbled close to your ear and sucked into your lobe.
You felt like a teenager again. The power she had over you was unparallel to any other person you’d ever been with. She rendered you into a pitiful mess of hormones.
“Let’s see if you can take me like one, then,” she growled and knelt back on the bed, your legs falling from her shoulders as she took off your underwear and threw it somewhere on the floor.
You had half a moment to brace yourself for what was to come, and then you felt it; Larissa’s tongue deepening into your entrance, making its wait to your clit, her lips closing around your hardened bud and sucking.
You screamed. Your thighs clenched in her grasp, threatening to close around her head. She let you, you knew she could keep you from it, she was stronger than you, but she hummed as your trembling legs encircled her, heels pressing onto her back and shoulder blades.
One of her hands traced the inside of your thigh as it made its way between your legs and soon enough you felt a finger pressing inside you, almost immediately finding its goal. Your eyes watered and even tightly shut tears escaped them and ran down your temple.
You were too lost in sensation to think about anything. You gripped Larissa’s hair, shrieking and panting, so close it almost drove you mad. She sucked and circled your clit with her tongue, fingering you faster and faster, how wanted to yell for more, demand release, and then you didn’t have to.
With your grip on her hair, Larissa moaned languidly, vibration and her sharp intake of breath against your heated flesh sent you over the edge with a scream.
Your entire body trembled with aftershocks, Larissa licked and kissed you til it was almost too much. Unabashedly revelling on your pleasure. When your legs started to relax, she planted small kisses on them and finally came up to you.
With all the energy you could muster, you brought a hand to her face, guiding her down to kiss you. You tasted yourself in her mouth and hummed, a satisfied smile twisting your lips. The fondness in her eyes as you parted made your heart hurt.
“Give me a minute,” you breathed, “I want you to sit on my face.”
You didn’t know how long you were laying together. Larissa absentmindedly stroked your hair behind your ears and away from your shoulders, leaving your back bare.
Tucked on her neck, you could smell her; the scent of sex and Larissa should be forbidden, the risk of it driving someone to madness way too high to afford; you in particular.
“Now that we’re back… will you… want to keep us secret?” you had told yourself you would understand her, but you couldn’t keep your voice from sounding small and insecure.
Larissa shifted underneath you, her hand travelling down from your shoulder to your back as she laid you in the bed and hovered over you.
“Pretending to date you was hard enough. I don’t think I’d be able to pretend not to date you now,” she whispered and leant down to kiss you again.
Tags are as follows: @anti-bright-places, @pro-weems-places, @the-bagel24, @regalbootie, @tundra1029, @thoroughly-confused-kiwi-blog, @lilsmeaux, @poorwritingandstalecoffee, @alder-saan, @jelly-frogss, @enchantressb, @imean-its-just-me, @lvinhs, @iloveyall-18, @kimiinou, @jeweleegrey, @a-queen-and-her-throne, @one-pining-queer, @paulsonwifey, @winterfireblond and @bobia13
For the lovelies who stuck around until the end, I have a little surprise. I edited the fic into an EPUB, and will be linking it here, as well as in the Archive of Our Own version. Thank you so much for all the love, you made all the difference.
337 notes · View notes
tepkunset · 1 year
Text
A little bit of history of the Mi’kmaq in Newfoundland
My name is Lydia-Isaac. I was born in Ktaqmkuk, but have spent most of my life in Sipekne'katik and Kespukwitk. As far as most people are concerned, that means I’m a Newfie raised Nova Scotian, but Newfoundland and Nova Scotia are simply built on top of the same territory known as Mi’kma’ki. As far as I’m concerned, despite moving around a lot growing up, I can at least say I’ve never had to leave my people’s homeland.
Pre-Colonization Travel
Evidence says that the Mi’kmaq of Unama’ki (Cape Breton) travelled across the Gulf of Saint Lawrence to Ktaqmkuk (Newfoundland) for seasonal hunting and fishing at least as early as the 16th century. Oral history says this goes back even further.
Relationship with the Beothuk
There are mixed historical analyses on what the relationship between the Beothuk and the Mi’kmaq was like. There is a common myth among settlers that the Mi’kmaq are responsible for the Beothuk genocide, pushing in on their territory and killing them on behalf of French settlers, whom the Mi’kmaq were allied to. This should be highly scrutinized and criticized for what it truly is: Displacement of blame onto another Indigenous Nation as a scapegoat. Most tales of hostilities between the Mi’kmaq and Beothuk come from English accounts. The one explanation we have from a Beothuk source, the captured woman known as Shanawdithit, said to one Bishop Inglis: “Originally they [the Beothuk] had intercourse with the Mi'kmaq and they could partially understand each other, and that the Mi'kmaq who have been visitors here for centuries were formerly on friendly terms but their enmity has been implacable and of the deadliest character for about 150 years.” According to this, hostilities only began after outside colonial pressures were in place. Make no mistake that those responsible for the Beothuk genocide are the settlers who hunted them and their resources, and spread deadly diseases.
Colonial Changes
The relationship between the Mi’kmaq and the land/its other living beings is not just one of harvesting resources, but a spiritual connection and responsibility. The principles of this relationship is known as Netukulimk, which guides the Mi’kmaw way of life. One of the core understandings of Netukulimk is the concept of Msit No’kmaq; the understanding that all spirits are related. (It is also worth mentioning that everything that casts a shadow has a spirit.) Therefore, a person is responsible to respect the life around them—that of the land, of the flora, of the fauna—just as you would respect another family member. When you harvest, you only harvest what you need. When you hunt/fish, you only hunt/fish what you need. And you offer thanks to that which you have taken from, every time. This way of life is one of sustainability!
Unfortunately, that sustainability was catastrophically interrupted by colonizers when Newfoundland came under British control. The caribou herds for example, which were a staple reliance for the Mi’kmaq and originally numbered up to 300,000, went near extinct. With this, so too came the astronomical death of the Mi’kmaq. John G. Millais wrote of Steve Bernard, a Mi’kmaw hunter and wilderness guide: “Steve is the sole survivor of eleven children born to old Joe Bernard, late chief of the Newfoundland Micmacs, all of whom have died from the bottle, consumption, or strains, the three principal causes which decimate the red men.” One survivor in a family of eleven children.
Those that survived this period of death were forced to largely assimilate into the settler’s society, but this too the settlers made a challenge. Getting a job as a Native person was near impossible, save for ill-paid work on the docks and boats. This is where the Newfinese slur jackatar/jack-o-tar comes from, the insinuation being that you are a poor grunt worker because of your race. (Employers denying work to Natives is still a problem today by the way, and the very reason that my family moved to NS.) It was not uncommon for communities of congregated Mi’kmaq to be forcefully relocated and then destroyed, such as Crow Gulch. In the 1870’s, Newfoundland established five reserves to try and control congregation: Conne River, Codroy Valley (Grand River), Halls Bay, St. George’s, and Gambo. But the only one still considered reserve land today is Conne River (Samiajij Miawpukek).
Joseph Fucking Smallwood
Tumblr media
In 1949, Newfoundland joined Canada. When asked about the island’s Native population, Premier Joseph Smallwood falsely claimed there were no Indians in Newfoundland. This meant that the Mi’kmaq living on the island were not registered under the Indian Act, enabling the new province to ignore the People’s existence and rights. It also meant settlers were taught in schools the myth that all Indigenous peoples of Newfoundland were killed off, for a very long time.
Miawpukek First Nation
It wasn’t until 1987 that Miawpukek First Nation (Conne River) was federally recognized, after a long-time campaign from Indigenous activists on the island insisting they were not, in fact, ghosts.
But Samiajij Miawpukek is just one of many traditional Mi’kmaw communities, and that’s not even counting those living in urban areas. What about them?
Qalipu First Nation
Qalipu First Nation was established in 2011 by the federal government as an “easy” solution to catch all the rest of the Mi’kmaq in Newfoundland. The problem is, they were not expecting very many applicants—because of that old Joseph Smallwood-sourced myth—so they decided that the checks for applying for Status and membership were not required. This was a huge mistake, as it opened up doors for over 100,000 people to apply. Naturally, the Mi’kmaq of other provinces were rightfully cross with the government for this, and questioned the legitimacy of the Band.
It took nearly a decade for Qalipu leadership to sort out membership, limiting the number of members down to those actually involved with the Band, and making cultural participation a requirement. In 2019, the First Nation was recognized by the Mi’kmaw Santé Mawio’mi (Grand Council).
Today
Thanks to revitalization efforts, the Mi’kmaw language is making a come-back on the island after many decades of near extinction. With this comes the revival of practicing traditional songs, dances, artwork, and other expressions of cultural identity. To paraphrase from my uncle: it’s about relearning what was taken from us for so long.
What should come next, in my opinion, is the restoration of Netukulimk on a large scale. There are many who agree and are working on just that, so we’ll see what comes in the future of the island.
167 notes · View notes
heartshapedbubble · 9 months
Note
Hi, i'm so glad to see you here again! I hope you are doing well after your winter break
You may not believe it, but as soon as I thought about you, it turned out that you opened requests again!
Actually, I don't have a specific request, just an idea: Dreamwalker interacting with the reader acting as a "sleeping beauty". Maybe it could be a very very short oneshot with scene where Luchino wakes up the reader with a kiss or few hcs where Luchino sends the sleeping reader good dreams, warding off nightmares or smth like that
I guess my thoughts look very messy, so it's okay if you reject the request. This idea came to me right before going to bed, but it seemed so interesting to me that I couldn't help but share it with you
No matter what you decide, thank you for attention and have a nice day! ♡
oh god i had so much ideas/concepts with this but compiling them into something... comprehensible was quite the challenge. i love dream walker to death one of my favourite a tiers
this went more in the general hc direction but i made sure not to forget the romance🫡🫡🫡
shout out to you nehvas you're one of the people carrying both my account and the luchino fan society ong 🙏 luchino fans are in for a treat with this one i fear i didn't expect to write this much but here we are
dream walker luchino with a sleeping reader/general hcs🦎🌠
Tumblr media
cut for length !
one of the first things that came to mind here were the notsnitsa (nochnitsa), evil spirits from slavic mythology that torment the sleeper by sitting on their chest, drawing out their life energy
i'd consider dream walker an anti-hero, maybe not even a hero at all. all he does is roam people's dreams, be they nightmares or heavens, that's why he's armed in the first place!
the exact reason why he roams the dream sphere is unknown to him. at one unspecified point in his (now) immortal life he sensed a calling to slay the horrors concocted by the human consciousness when it's off the leash of sanity, and for him, that's when his actual life started
once he finishes exploring, he bottles up the dream inside a glass container, ridding the person of it and their memories of it for the night, adding them to his already big collection. during his free time, he rewinds the dreams and watches the unique dream world unfold inside the container like an ecosystem, bursting with life that, sadly, isn't real nor logical
the way he enters a dream is quite simple. since he's not active nor visible to mortals in the daylight, the moment the clock strikes for midnight he enters the chosen one's bedroom through the window, crawls to their bed and inches his own face closer and closer to the victim's, merging their minds, perceptions and senses together
he, in fact, never considered the act to be something possibly intimate or even loving, and he hardly paid any attention at what the person he's possessing looks like anyway. for him, the beauty does not lie in the shell of the human body, but rather in the roamings of their stray mind, their deepest and darkest desires unveiling when their owner is already asleep
but maybe, just maybe... there's something more beyond the boundaries that he's familiar with.
however, he can't say that he lacks empathy. maybe just doesn't lack it completely. when he feels them squirming or beads of sweat forming on somebody's forehead under his coarse palms he sighs and something in him just clicks, and without thinking he wipes their sweat and pressed his cheek to theirs instead, gently holding them until the threat subsides enough for him to deal with it
you found yourself directly facing - or not - the dream walker once. or twice. or was it maybe thrice? every single time it felt new, the eyes under the cap shining in a new, unknown way to you and that bioluminescence of his illuminating his face from a different direction during every encounter.
it felt like you were paralyzed, unable to move, unable to dream, completely aware of the layout of your dark room, although you knew your eyelids were tightly shut. in the blink of an eye your window flung open and, barely making a sound, a monster at first sight entered your room, anchoring itself on the footboard of your bed. it was like thousands of fireflies clustered around his body, his eyes shining brightly like two beams, directed right at your sweating face.
despite it's appearance, it did not talk, it did not roar, not even hiss. from its mouth only an occassional deep breath was heard, and motionlessly it sat there - looking at you for what seemed to be tens of minutes. it - or he - had a seemingly puzzled expression on his face, trying to get at something. after rubbing his face a few times and averting his gaze in embarrassment, you figured he wasn't sure why he was doing so, either.
it got off the bed, creeping to the side of your bed, crouching down so he was face-to-face with you. he even tilted his head, maybe out of curiosity, maybe to mimic the position of your head. your heart was beating so hard you swore you could end up breathless, and cold sweat showered you, but at the same time you felt no fear. as if you have already gotten over the shock of this stranger in your room. it stemmed from something else, which for now you couldn't feel, your body reacting to it automatically
by now you could feel his breath on your forehead. his claw went for your soaked cheeks, brushing the sweat off with as much care as possible. before you could even think it through, he grasped your face with his hands, one hand below your chin, the other on the top of your head, and brought it closer to his. his scaly face was cold to the touch, like pressing your face against a frostbitten hand. your mind slowly went foggy afterwards. what you saw before your eyes were spots of gray and white, clustered like clouds. with a guilty look on his face, he moved away after a while - your vision now back to normal - as if he was contemplating if he should stay or not.
for a moment he returned - reaching for your face with his own again, but this time, quickly pressing his closed mouth on the spot where your nose meets the forehead, seemingly trying to give you some sort of a blessing. retracting away as if had committed a crime, a glass bottle in his firmly clenched hand, he backed out of your room - the window perfectly shut as if nothing happened.
he became a frequent guest, leaving with a differently colored bottle every time you saw him, and when you weren't able to see, you sensed his presence around you, that magical aura of his. the scent of rainy forests with a soft hint of blackcurrant, always unleashing a pleasant cold feeling beneath your skin under all those heavy blankets. sometimes his lips rested longer on your temples, and a few times he even unbuttoned the first button of your shirt, letting you cool down faster after what you discovered was a reaction to a nightmare. and when you didn't hear him pacing around your bed, you could sense his gaze hyperfocused on your face from the usual spot he was perched on.
the following mornings were always odd, your limbs numb and mysterious marks scattered across your arms and sides. nevermind the effects on your body, your head never hurt and your mind was clear, not a single nightmare or problem troubling you upon waking up.
you weren't sure why or what exactly was he doing - but you found yourself excitedly waiting for his return, wandering to sleep without any troubles.
the next time i see him, you thought to yourself, i'm going to be the one reaching for his face. and every time it was him going in first, and every time, it seemed like he stayed an hour longer than before, looking out for you in the dead of night. troubled with what he didn't know were potention feelings, puzzled by questions with no answers, he looked back at your serene state, and swore he'll find out as soon as possible. and until then... he might as well make you his.
this last sentence was a bit corny im sorry guys im writing thus half asleep
54 notes · View notes