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joelsgreys · 17 days

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Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Pregnant! Female Reader

snapshots masterlist

summary: When you finally start to show, Joel has a tough time with it as the reality sinks in—he’s going to be a father again.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. (TW) PREGNANCY. established relationship. no mention of reader’s age, however in other works for this universe, it is implied she is younger than Joel, her specific age will never be stated so do with that what you will. brief descriptions of a pregnant woman’s changing body, brief mention of morning sickness, mention of breastfeeding (it only comes up in a conversation very briefly) these subjects can possibly be triggering, especially mentions of a changing body, so while i try to handle everything with the utmost care, i still ask that you proceed with caution. domesticity, reader enjoys taking care of her family, ellie is a little shit, grumpy joel, he’s sort of a dick at first? but only because he’s working through some feelings so let’s forgive him, okay?

word count: 3.5k

a/n: this is part of the snapshots universe, but it could absolutely be read as a standalone too. minimal editing, this has been sitting in my drafts and i did a quick edit during my lunch hour, so please excuse any mistakes.

“Shit.”

You almost can’t believe your own two eyes. Staring at your reflection in the large, oval shaped mirror hanging over the porcelain bathroom sink, your gaze widens in complete surprise. “Jesus Christ,” you mutter, turning to the side. It takes your brain about a good minute or two to process, really process, the way that your belly strains against the thin, white cotton of your camisole. It had seemingly swollen overnight—because it hadn’t been this prominent the day before, had it?

Over the last few months, there’d been changes.

Some subtle and some not so subtle.

“Ellie! Stop fucking staring at them,” you’d scolded the teenager late one evening during yours and hers weekly game night. For as hard as you tried focusing on what move you should make next, it was hard to concentrate on the chessboard in front of you when you could feel the way her eyes were fixed on your breasts. “I mean it! Quit staring at my boobs, you little shit.”

She held up her hands, her mouth full of popcorn.

“Hey, in my defense, they’re just fucking there, man. If anything, they’re fucking staring at me, okay?”

During your chess rematch the following week, you had accidentally knocked one of your pawn pieces off of the table. When you’d stood up and bent over to pick it up, she had made the observation that your butt seemed to have gotten a little bigger too.

“Bet Joel’s liking these changes,” Ellie had smirked. “It sure as hell explains why the headboard’s been banging against the wall more than usual lately.”

You threw the pawn at her, smiling in satisfaction when it bounced off her forehead and landed into her glass of lemonade.

One part of your body, however, hadn’t changed.

Not until now.

“Hon, trust me, you have nothing to be worried about,” Maria had assured you with confidence when you had brought up your concerns about your stomach. “Every woman, and every pregnancy, is different. I didn’t start showing until I was around six months, remember?”

“I guess you’re right.” You’d been around four months, then. “Doesn’t help that I haven’t felt the baby move.”

“You will,” Maria had promised. “Just be patient”

Biting your lip, you place a hand on your belly.

It’s always been one of the softer parts of you, but now, it’s firmed into a perfect, round bump.

“Maybe soon I’ll feel you move,” you murmur, giving it a gentle pat. You tug the lace hem of your camisole down as far as it can go and then pull at the elastic waistband of your blue, terry cloth shorts.

Shutting off the lights in the bathroom, you slip out into the bedroom where you find that Joel’s still tangled up in the sheets, fast asleep. He had been assigned to the afternoon patrol route today—normally an early riser, if he was still snoozing, it meant that he really needed the rest. Deciding it was best to let him keep sleeping for a little while longer, you quietly tiptoe out of your shared bedroom and head downstairs into the kitchen.

After making yourself a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice, and one for the kid as well, you prepare the coffee maker for Joel. You spoon dark roast grounds into the filter and set the timer for the coffee to start brewing in thirty minutes.

He should be up by then, you think, pulling a basket of eggs out of the refrigerator.

You’re starting to get used to this. Domesticity.

Despite your protests, Maria had made the decision to pull you off patrol that same afternoon you had shared the news of your pregnancy. “I’m putting you on leave,” she’d told you. “Effective immediately. I don’t want to see you outside of these walls. Got it?”

“That’s not fair, Maria. You were out on patrol until—”

One stern glare from her had shut you right up.

“Fine.”

Sure, you missed it and looked forward to the day when you’d be able to get back into the saddle with your rifle in hand, but this way of life had grown on you. Certainly a lot more than you thought it would.

You enjoyed taking care of the house. Packing Ellie her lunch for school and checking her homework. Having a nice a meal on the table for the three of you to enjoy in the comfort of your own home instead of having to go down to the crowded mess hall for supper because you and Joel were both always much, much too tired after a long day out on patrol to bother with cooking.

With the baby due to arrive in the winter, looking after your little family had become your purpose, and you did not mind it one bit.

As strips of bacon sizzle in one pan on the gas powered stove, you crack a couple of eggs into another, knowing the kid is already on her way downstairs. You can hear the sound of her old, tattered low top sneakers that you have been trying to throw away for almost a year now squeaking on the kitchen tiles just as you finish plating her breakfast.

“Morning!” Ellie pipes, the loud plop of her backpack into a chair prompting you to turn around. “What’s for brea—whoa! Holy shit!” Her brown eyes widen in shock when she sees you and her jaw drops. “Dude.”

“Ellie,” you say her name warningly as you walk over to the table. “Don’t.”

“You’re bigger!”

With a playful glare, you set her plate down, along with her glass of orange juice. “Thanks a lot, you little jerk.” You feign offense. “You’re making your own eggs from now on.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Ellie’s cheeks flush a shade of red and she squirms, sputtering apologetically, “I swear, I don’t mean it like that at all. It’s just, your stomach, it didn’t—you didn’t look like this last night, you know?”

She’s fucking lucky that your raging hormones decided to take the morning off duty.

“You look different. I mean, you look great—”

“Ellie?”

“Yeah?”

“Just shut up and eat.”

“Deal.”

She shoots you a sheepish grin and sits down, scarfing down her food in her usual manner.

“You get your fractions homework done?”

“Yeah.” Ellie huffs, rolling her eyes. “Took me forever. I was up until fucking midnight.”

Amused, you offer, “Want me to check your work?”

“Sure.”

As Ellie inhales the rest of her breakfast, you pull out a green, single subject notebook from her backpack and look over her homework for miscalculations.

“So, uh, how are you feeling?” she asks after a minute.

“I’m feeling alright. I think the morning sickness finally stopped, so can’t complain.” Shrugging, you close the notebook and stick it into her backpack. “You did good, kid. Only got two problems wrong.”

“Man, I really wish we knew whether it’s a boy or girl,” Ellie mumbles through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “What do you want to have, anyway?”

“It doesn’t matter to me, Ellie,” you answer, honestly. Clocking the skepticism on her face, you laugh and say, “It’s true. As long as the baby’s healthy, that’s all I care about.” And you mean it. As an expectant mother in the post outbreak world where medicine is scarce, supplies are limited, and the closest thing you have to a hospital is the town’s old clinic, the only thing you can hope for is the smooth, safe delivery of a healthy child.

Before she can say anything, you both catch the sound of Joel’s heavy boots as he descends the staircase.

She quirks an eyebrow. “Uh, has Joel seen you yet?”

Grimacing, you shake your head. “No.”

“Well, I don’t wanna be here for all that awkward,” Ellie says, chugging the rest of her orange juice. She stands up and snatches up her backpack, along with her lunch bag, which you’d packed for her earlier that morning. Just as she’s about to whirl around on the heel of her sneaker and make a run for the front door, she pauses, watching as you make your way back over to the stove to light another flame. “Unless you want me to be?”

“I’ll be fine, Ellie,” you assure her. “Go on, get to school. Maybe you’ll be on time to class for once.”

“If you say so.” She wishes you luck and then bolts out of the kitchen, throwing a quick goodbye at Joel on the way out. “See ya later, old man!”

Nervously, you turn around and start cracking another two eggs into the pan. There’s no telling how he’s going to react.

Joel’s been fairly supportive since you’d found out you were pregnant, considering how unplanned it was. But you know him like the back of your own hand, and you know, despite the numerous times he’s denied it, that it has been weighing heavily on him. Each time you’d try to sit down to talk to him about it, he would brush you off and insist he was fine. But he wasn’t fine.

And you wish he would spit it out and tell you why.

In your periphery, you notice the stained glass butterfly he had hung in front of the window above the sink, the ornament catching and refracting the sunlight. Flecks of color dance across the walls in captivating patterns, brightening the space. You think of the sweet little girl he’d hung it for, the little girl he rarely talks about, that he keeps tucked away safely in his memory.

You bite back a small sigh.

By now, you’ve learned not to push him. Especially not about what he was feeling. He would tell you when he was ready.

“Who the hell lit a fire under her ass this mornin’?” Joel asks gruffly as he walks into the kitchen. “She ain’t ever this fuckin’ eager to go to school.”

“Not sure,” you reply in the most nonchalant tone you can muster as you use a spatula to scramble the eggs. Transferring them onto a plate, you add three strips of bacon, and then pour his coffee. “I have your breakfast ready, Joel. Have a seat.”

You hear a chair scrape against the tile.

“I keep tellin’ you I can make my own breakfast, darlin’.”

“And I keep telling you I don’t mind making it for you,” you quip, and you hear him grumble something under his breath.

Inhaling a deep, calming breath through your nose, you take the plate of eggs and bacon in one hand, and his cup of coffee in the other. Your fingers grasp the handle of his ceramic, owl mug in a near death grip. You exhale slowly, and then turn around to face him.

He sees your swollen middle and stiffens in his chair.

The tension is instantaneous. Palpable.

Uncomfortable.

Awkwardly, you shift from one foot to the other.

“Your belly,” Joel murmurs, a visible tick in his jaw as his gaze drags over your midsection. “S’bigger.”

“Yeah. It is. Guess I’m going to have to start trading for maternity clothes soon,” you remark, shuffling over to the table. Setting down the plate and mug of coffee in front of him, you take a seat across the table. Your eyes try desperately to meet his, but they refuse. There’s no way for you to decipher what he’s thinking. You let out a small, nervous laugh. “Can you please say something?”

He lightly clears his throat. “I’ll take you to Main Street on Saturday,” he tells you, picking up his mug. “I’ve got the day off from patrol. I’ll, uh, pick through some of my own things and see what I don’t need so we can make a trade for some clothes.” He pauses, then offers quietly, “In the meantime, you can wear my shirts. They might be more comfortable for you.”

You flash him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Joel.”

Sipping his coffee, he continues to avoid your gaze.

“Mhm,” is all he says.

Your smile falters.

It’s the middle of August.

The afternoon heat is sweltering. Unforgiving.

“Jesus, it’s a fuckin’ scorcher,” Tommy sighs, glancing over towards the lake where his mare, Maxine, is taking a drink beside his brother’s stallion, Phoenix. His raven curls are damp with sweat, plastered to his forehead. “Hotter than the devil’s fuckin’ balls out here, ain’t it?”

He’s met with silence.

Looking over his shoulder, he sees Joel leaning against a tree, his rifle in hand as he stares at the Grand Tetons in the distance almost like he’s in a trance. “Joel?”

Blinking furiously, Joel shakes his head. “Sorry, you say somethin’ to me just now?” He asks in a daze, pushing away from the lodgepole pine. “We headin’ out?”

“You’ve been actin’ real strange all afternoon,” Tommy observes, walking towards him with his own gun slung over his shoulder. “Either the heat is startin’ to get to you, or you’ve got somethin’ on your mind, big brother.”

Joel hesitates. His dark eyes flit to the other side of the lake where the other members of their afternoon patrol group are refilling their canteens with water.

“S’alright,” his younger brother says. “Don’t worry ‘bout them. Can’t hear us.”

Joel’s chest heaves with a heavy sigh. “She popped.”

“Huh?”

“Her belly finally popped. She’s showin’ now.”

Amused, Tommy lightly shakes his head. “Y’shouldn’t be so surprised, Joel. Was ‘bout time,” he remarks with a shrug. “What is she—like six months along now?”

“She’ll be six months in a couple weeks.” Joel wipes the perspiration off his brow with the back of his hand and sighs once more. “Look, I ain’t stupid, Tommy. I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later, but it still caught me by surprise. When I saw her, it became real for me. She’s got my kid in there. I’m gonna be a dad again.”

“You’re scared.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement.

“Shitless,” Joel confesses, feeling his chest tighten.

“What are you afraid of?”

Joel almost laughs.

He doesn’t know where to start.

He’s afraid of everything.

“All of it, Tommy. I’m afraid for her, havin’ to give birth with no medicine,” he tells him, his voice breaking. “I’m afraid I won’t remember what to do with a newborn or that I won’t know how to help her durin’ those first few months—”

“This ain’t your first rodeo,” Tommy reminds him. “You did it once, and you did just fine, Joel.”

“That was over three fuckin’ decades ago. And it was a different world. If Sarah—” He stops, taking a second to catch his breath. The image of his daughter’s little face flashing in his mind feels like a violent punch to the gut. Even after all this time, it still knocks all of the wind out of his lungs. “When her mom had trouble breastfeedin’ her, I could head to the grocery store and buy her baby formula. If she got a real bad fever, I could load her up in the truck and drive her to the emergency room.” He glances down at his broken watch. “Besides, I was a lot younger, then. And I wasn’t half fuckin’ deaf like I am now. When Sarah would wake up cryin’ in the middle of the night because she needed a diaper change, I’d hear her. What if I can’t hear my own kid cryin’?”

“Joel—”

“I’m in my fifties. What if I can’t keep up because I’m too fuckin’ old?”

Tommy reaches out, clapping a hand onto his shoulder.

“Brother, I need you to take a fuckin’ breath,” he says, chuckling softly. “You’re puttin’ the weight of the world of your shoulders right now—you need to put some of it down. Look, we might not have everythin’ we used to before the world ended, but we make do with what we do have. Considerin’ just how many growin’ families we have and how many little ones we’ve got runnin’ around our town, I’d say it’s workin’ out pretty fuckin well.” He gives his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “And as far as your ability to be a good dad, you’ve still got it, Joel. You know what to do, and so does she. I’ve seen her in action with my little boy, and it seems like she’s already got those maternal instincts, y’know?”

“Yeah, she does,” Joels agrees quietly, thinking of how you had stepped up to help him care for Ellie.

“Trust me, between the two of you, it’ll be alright.”

He peers at him. “You really believe I still got it in me?”

“I do.” Tommy smiles. “You never stopped knowin’ how to be a father, Joel. You’re gonna be just fine.”

Their patrol shift extends into the evening, turning into a double, and it’s late when he gets home.

“What the hell are you still doin’ up?” Joel asks when he finds Ellie sitting at the kitchen table, cursing to herself as she flips through the stale, yellowing pages of an old life science text book.

“What does it fucking look like, man?”

“Shouldn’t have waited until the last minute, kiddo—”

Ellie holds up a hand and cuts him off.

“Save the lecture for another time, dude. I’m busy.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Finish up and get to bed. S’late.”

Without waiting for some smartass response, he turns on the heel of his boot and then heads upstairs to your shared bedroom. He flips on the lights only to find that you’re already in bed, fast asleep, wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties. He toes off his boots and leaves them by the door, being as quiet as he possibly can as he rummages through his top drawer for some clean boxers to sleep in.

He slips into the bathroom where he takes a quick, hot shower, scrubbing off that day’s sweat, dirt, and grime. After he’s dressed and his sopping wet, salt and pepper curls are haphazardly towel dried, Joel walks back out into the bedroom where he switches off the lights and climbs into bed next to you.

He lays on his side and he’s just about to close his eyes when he feels a light shift beside him. You roll over and curl into him, your belly pressing up against his curve of his spine.

He stiffens, freezing as if someone had just placed the barrel of their pistol against his back, their finger over the trigger.

Christ, get a damn grip, he thinks silently to himself.

Joel thinks about that morning in the kitchen.

He knows his reaction had hurt you. Or rather, his lack of a reaction. His shitty ways of coping aren’t your fault, and his struggle to come to terms with your pregnancy sure as hell isn’t your fault, either. He owed it to you to try harder to be the man you needed.

The man you both needed.

Joel’s train of thought comes to a screeching halt when he feels a soft flutter against his middle of his back, the spot right where your tummy is nestled—did the baby just move?

He lies still, waiting to see if he feels it again, and when he doesn’t, he rolls over to face you, causing you to stir.

“Joel?” you mumble his name, sleepily. “What time—?”

“Shh,” Joel soothes, pulling you into his bare chest. He kisses your temple. “S’okay, baby. Go back to sleep.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice.

Within seconds, you’re asleep again, snuggled into him and snoring softly.

Lifting a hand, he hesitates, then rests it on your belly.

He waits.

And waits.

Until the minutes turn into hours.

Until dawn’s light filters in through the lace curtains.

Until he finally feels that little flutter again.

He feels it against the palm of his hand. Faint, nothing more than a brief whisper against his skin, but there is no mistaking it.

He’d just felt the baby’s movement.

There’s a sudden shift.

Tense muscles that had been painfully wound up since the moment you’d mentioned to him your period was a week late back in the spring loosen slightly—the breath he had been holding since he’d picked up that positive pregnancy test from the bathroom counter finally falls from his lips, fanning over yours.

His fears, his worries, his uncertainties about what lies ahead, they’re all still there, of course, but he finds they are now accompanied by a glimmer of hope, a sliver of optimism that maybe, just maybe, Joel doesn’t have to be as afraid as he is.

Joel’s eyes glaze over your face, warmth radiating in his chest when you breathe a little a sigh of content in your sleep as he gently rubs your stomach through his shirt.

With his hand still splayed over your belly, he closes his eyes and begins to drift off, falling into the most decent sleep he’s had in the last few months.

Maybe his brother’s right.

Maybe he will be just fine.

divider credit to @saradika 🤍

#tw pregnancy #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x pregnant reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller drabble #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #fic: snapshots

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justauthoring · 8 months

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Just to be Enough [1]

a series of snapshots of your life with geto and gojo -> this part: what if geto had called you that night?

a/n: this will more or less just be a collection of different one shots of potential moments of a relationship with geto and gojo. sometimes the plotline might change :)

pairing: satosugu x f!reader, shoko x f!reader

read the other parts here: one - two - three

His hands were shaking.

Part of you thought yours were as well.

You weren’t sure what to say – what was there to say? Being awoken by a call from Geto at three in the morning certainly wasn’t how you’d expected your day off to start; nor was the shakiness of Geto’s voice something you’d ever expected to hear. He was always confident, in your many years of knowing him that was something you’d come to expect – the unwavering confidence that both him and Gojo displayed no matter where they were, what they were talking about or what was happening.

He’d sounded afraid and distressed and on the brink of… you weren’t even sure what. Your heart pounded with fear of just exactly what.

Two girls. That’s all he’d manage to utter. Something about two little girls, locked and beaten and… his voice was twisted with something terribly painful and he was breathing heavily, words mixing together with his panic. You swear you’ve never called for Ijichi so quickly, now in a state yourself; enough that you hadn’t even had the politeness to feel sorry for waking the poor man up so early and abruptly.

It was when you were in the back seat of the car that you called Gojo.

“Something’s wrong with Suguru.”

“...what’s wrong?”

He’s away on a mission of his own. Just like he always was nowadays. It had been hard on your relationship, always missing one piece to make you all whole; but you understood, just like you understood that Geto was called on just as many missions. It was something you’d long ago come to terms with if you were going to be with the two strongest sorcerers, and you had no doubt about what that meant in terms of being physically with them.

Perhaps he’d answered, despite being on a mission, so quickly because, like you, he’d noticed the steady decline of Geto over the past few months like you had. Noticed but deflected every time you’d tried to ask. You’re a sorcerer yourself, and while you might not be as strong as them or sent on as many missions, you know the strain it puts on one's well being. You see it in yourself, in them, in your friends.

It seems Gojo did as well.

And, if truth be told, not a single one of you had made it out of that mission last year the same.

It had taken you a second to reply, mainly because you weren’t sure how to. “I don’t know,” you confessed with a choked breath, “he just called me, said he found two girls. Satoru, they’d been locked in a cage, starving and with bruises all over them. I tried to get him to calm down enough to tell me where he was. But he sounded…. wrong.”

There’s an echoing pause, then; “you’re on your way now?”

You nod, even though he can’t see. “Yeah.”

“Okay, I'll be there.”

You hear the sound of him pulling away, as if to hang up; you can’t stop yourself from crying; “Toru!”

There’s a moment of silence before you hear him respond, rather softly; “yeah?”

“I’ve never heard him sound like that, Toru. I’m scared about what I’ll find when I get there.”

It feels wrong to admit – why would you be scared to see Geto? A boy you’ve loved since you’d first walked into class on your first day at Jujutsu Tech and laid eyes on him? But you are, terribly so; your hearts racing and it feels like you can’t breathe the closer and closer you get. You don’t know how to help – that was the whole issue of it all; how? How can you help him? How can you make it better?

What if you didn’t?

“I’m gonna be home soon, okay, Y/N/N?” Gojo whispers, gently; so opposite of how he normally sounds. “We’ll figure it out together, yeah? Just get him home.”

You nod, once again, “okay,” you whisper.

“I love you.”

“Love you too, Toru.”

You’re pulled up next to Geto ten minutes after that.

He’s standing there, the jacket of his uniform taken off, left bare in his white button up and slacks. When your eyes flicker lower, to the two little girls standing beside him, you find his jacket wrapped around the two of them; big enough to envelop them fully, huddled together. As you pull up beside him, stopping just in front, you first notice the girls; bruises and scuffs marked all over their skin, what little clothing they have on them ripped, dirty and clearly old, and then you see their big, wide, afraid eyes staring back at your own and your heart breaks.

When you raise your gaze, you meet Geto’s. He’s already staring at you, but his expression is blank; like he’s staring right through you.

You send a nod Ijichi’s way before opening the door, slipping out into the cool night air.

The girls are watching you carefully, shuffling closer to Geto, clearly scared of you, and as you stand fully, letting the door shut gently behind you not to scare them, you glance at Geto just briefly before crouching, so you’re at eye-level with the girls.

“My name’s Y/N,” you introduce softly, voice extra quiet so as not to spook them. “I’m Suguru’s friend. What are your names?”

They glance at each other, slowly, unsure, before looking up at Geto. He nods, a simple, silent gesture and then, as if relaxing, their tensed bodies ease and the lighter haired one speaks up first; “i’m Nanako and this is Mimiko,” she introduces her sister for her, and when you glance at the twins, it’s clear who protects who. The thought brings a smile to your lips, thinking back fondly to memories of your past, and nod.

“Those are such pretty names,” you smile, eyes crinkling with warmth. “Are you both cold?”

Nanako nods slowly, and you watch as Mimiko’s lips tremble.

“It’s nice and warm in the car, and there’s a nice man named Ijichi who’ll give you some snacks, okay?”

They look to Geto for guidance once more, and all it takes is one more simple nod before Nanako is eagerly grabbing Mimiko’s hand, pulling her sister forward just as you open the car door. They clamber in, and you adjust Geto’s jacket around them better as they huddle to the middle of the back seat, still holding tightly onto one another, before you let the door shut gently.

Left with Geto, silence echoes as you slowly push yourself up.

Then, with a shaky breath, Geto whispers; “I wanted to slaughter them all.”

His words scare you, but you force yourself to swallow down the fear, reminding yourself who this is and where you are. So, with a small step forward, you close the gap that had existed between both you and Geto, licking your lips. “The village?”

He nods.

“They did that to them?”

Once again, a nod.

“They would’ve deserved it.”

Geto blinks at that, shocked you’d agree with him. “...what?”

“I’m not going to tell you that you’re wrong, because… you’re not,” you confess with a shuddering breath. The worlds feel wrong even if you believe them. There was a time that the simple thought of death upon anyone, even the worst of scum, would’ve made you feel ill. But now, it didn’t always feel so wrong — at least not in thought. Not in the deepest, darkest parts of your mind.

“But you didn’t,” you add, closing the gap completely between the both of you. You take a leap, ignoring your uncertainty and fear and everything in between and take his hand in your own, squeezing. “That’s what’s important.”

“But I wanted to.”

You meet his eyes and finally see something in it — a glimpse of hope, maybe. There’s something other then empty in those eyes, even for just a second, and you grab onto it, tightly, knuckles white as hope floods you because that was all you needed.

Geto wasn’t gone.

“I’ve wanted to,” you confess, and it isn’t hard to know who and what you mean. “But I didn’t either. Do you think I’m a bad person?”

And his answer is instant; “no.”

“You aren’t either.”

His gaze lowers, and you think that’s all that can be said. At least now. Right now, those two little girls are important. Shoko’ll need to see them and when you get back to the school, Gojo will be there and he’ll help. You’re sure of it.

“Let’s go home,” you whisper, threading your fingers through his own. “Okay, Suguru?”

Gojo almost looks mad.

But one look at you, and his features soften, tense shoulders fading and he’s forced to remind himself of something maybe he just doesn’t quite understand.

He’s never been good with words, at least not when it came to comforting. Not when it came to things like this.

So he doesn’t say anything.

After Shoko had checked the girls, and assured bith you and Geto that despite bruising, they were okay. They’d need water and food, but most importantly, sleep.

You tuck them into your bed.

Geto is silent the entire time. He doesn’t say anything, just stands behind you, his presence is always there. There’s moments you catch, just faintly, where one of the girls will look at him and he’ll smile with a softness you’ve only ever seen directed at you or Gojo.

It fills you with a warmth, and that glimmer of hope you don’t want to lose.

The second he’s sure they’re okay and fast asleep, he slips out of your dorm and heads straight to his. A moment passes before you follow him, and when you finally reach him, he’s in his bed, back turned with the covers pulled up, as if hiding himself from everyone.

You stand there, watching, for ten minutes before Gojo arrives.

It takes him only one minute, after your look and after his acceptance to step forward, slipping into Getos much too small bed to carry two six feet tall men. But it doesn’t stop Gojo. He pulls the covers, slips underneath and presses his face into Getos back. It’s oddly soft for Gojo, caring in a way that words aren’t needed and comforting in a way only possible for him.

You feel distant from them in that moment.

You didn’t know how to help. What to say, what to do. You did what you thought was right, but it still hadn’t felt enough. Sure, you’d gotten Geto home, but he’d still been distant, cold and that look in his eyes still remained strikingly blank and gone.

Yet, you watch as the simple touch of Gojo relaxes Geto’s shoulders and he seems to ease, as if some, if not all, of the anxiety just washes away.

It hurts while comforts you.

You turn to leave, even if it’s your bed; maybe Shokos still up and—

“Y/N.”

Your body freezes, head slowly turning at the sound of Geto’s voice. He’s not spoken one word to you since you’d found him.

He’s looking at you, meeting your eyes directly and one of his arms is stretched out towards you, as if inviting you.

Lips parting, you hesitate.

“Please.”

That’s all it takes. Your feet are moving before your mind can process, rushing towards the bed with an unfamiliar urgency. You’re desperate for acceptance. Desperate to help and comfort and be there for Geto — because that’s all you want. All you ask for. You just want to help.

He’s grabbing onto your arm the second he can, tugging you to the other side of him, back pressing against the wall your bed is pushed up against and your chest pressed against Geto’s own as he wraps his arms around your waist. You lay there for a moment, before Geto’s pulling you closer, a hand pressing to the back of your head so you’re leaning into the crook of his neck.

Everything washes away then, the warmth of Geto soothing you.

And the words he utters next could make you cry;

“Thank you.”

His words echo in the silence, and then, your eyes flicker upwards, meeting Gojo’s. His gaze is already on your own, soft, warm and there’s a smile on his face.

Everything’s okay then, you realize.

Geto’s home and so is Gojo, and you did help.

You did.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk #jjk x reader #satosugu #satosugu x reader #satosugu imagine #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #geto suguru #shoko ieiri

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woso-dreamzzz · 3 months

Text

Day In The Life

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Natalia offers the fans a snapshot of your life

"Hola," Natalia says, beaming at her phone," I'm going to take you all on a little journey today." She grabs some of her skincare from the bathroom cabinet. "It's my day off today and my girlfriend and I are planning to spend the day together."

She winks at the camera as she finishes her skincare routine.

"It's pretty early for her. Nine in the morning. She likes to sleep in."

There's scuffing at the bathroom door and Natalia rolls her eyes and opens it. She picks up her phone and angles the camera downwards.

"This is the lovely Prins. He came with my girlfriend."

Prins' tail wags at the mention of his name and walks around in circles.

"He speaks Danish," Natalia continues," And Swedish when he's being nice so I've no idea how to tell him how to do anything." She laughs from behind the camera. "Sometimes, I think he only tolerates me because I live with him and his mami."

Prins barks once before scampering further into the apartment.

"So, my skincare is done, I've already showered so all I've got to do is change into my day clothes and-"

The screen cuts for a moment.

"There. This is my fit for today. We're not doing much so I've gone very casual."

The camera cuts again and it's set up on what must be a bedside table. The angle is slightly slanted and the sun streaming in through the curtains is just light enough to see it reflect across your face.

You're still sleeping and the camera picks up Natalia creeping up from behind you, pulling you closer to her by the waist.

It's with great ease that she holds you there. Her hand is splayed over your hip and your previously frowning face relaxes even though you're still fast asleep.

"Amor," Natalia says, her nose nudging at your sensitive neck," Mi vida, it's time to get up."

You fidget a little, trying to escape the touching of your neck. You shift your shoulders too and one of your hands moves to rest on the one that's holding you.

"Talia?" You ask, voice thick with sleep. You refuse to open your eyes. "It's early."

"We have plans, amor," She reminds you," You have to get up now if you still want to take Prins out this morning."

You pry your eyes open after Natalia lays several feather light kisses to your cheeks. You notice the camera instantly and the tiniest of smiles pokes at your lips.

"I look a mess, Talia," You say as you stare at the camera in amusement.

"You look beautiful," Natalia replies," My beautiful, beautiful girlfriend."

You laugh. "I hope you keep that in when you post this. It'll get my moster Frido off my back about being the sappy one in this relationship."

The camera cuts off just as Natalia rolls you over onto your back again.

"Look at my girlfriend," Natalia says from behind the camera," Taking our son out for a walk."

You're sitting on the ground, pulling on your shoes. You smile at the camera.

"Prins," You say, shaking his leash," Kom her (come here)!"

Prins approaches, his tail wagging furiously when he finally notices what you're holding.

"She's leaving me," Natalia whines jokingly," My beautiful girlfriend, leaving me here, all alone."

You roll your eyes. "She's so dramatic!"

"You love me for it."

"Of course I do. I'll see you in a bit."

The camera flips to Natalia's joking pout. "I miss her already."

When the camera cuts in again, it's a shot of your joined hands, swinging. It cuts again and Natalia's behind you, pressing a kiss to your sensitive neck as you try to squirm away.

The video captures a few more things. A little hole-in-the-wall coffee shop and a table with two coffees. A shot of you recording in the mirror, giving Natalia heart eyes that has the whole internet going feral as she browses through clothes at a store.

There's a romantic meal too. The camera cuts in on you with your hand lying on the table, reaching across it to hold Natalia's. It's dark out now and the restaurant looks like one of those fancy, upscale ones that people spend months on a waiting list to even book a meal at.

You're smiling, not at the camera but just behind it where the viewers know Natalia is. The actual video is suddenly muted and you're saying something that people can't quite lip-read.

The camera shakes like Natalia's been caught off guard and starts laughing.

You smile even wider.

When the camera cuts again and the audio returns, you're both curled up on the sofa together.

Reina is stretched out along the back and Prins lies mostly in Natalia's lap with his head resting in yours. The tv is on low in the background as Talia drops a quick peck on your lips.

"And that was our day," She says to the camera as you rest your head against her shoulder," Did you have fun today, mi vida?"

You nod, closing your eyes as her fingers gently scratch at your scalp.

"She's sleepy," Natalia says," She's a homebody so she doesn't go out much but she did it for me today because she loves me."

"Love you," You murmur, just audible enough for the microphone to pick up.

"Love you too," Talia whispers back before raising her tone again," We're probably going to watch a movie now. There's-"

She cuts off when the front door opens and the viewers are treated to the image of her eyebrows shooting all the way up to her hairline and a look of pure terror.

"Surprise!" The recognisable voice of Pernille is audible.

"Natalia Guijarro!" The equally recognisable voice of Magda snaps," Get your hands off her! There'll be no funny business where I can see it!"

It's like Natalia hasn't even realised the camera is still running because she puffs out her cheeks in annoyance and says back," You don't even live here! How did you get a key?"

You sleepily push off from Talia's shoulders and rub your eyes.

"Momma? Morsa? Did I forget you were coming?"

"It wouldn't be much of a surprise if you knew we were coming," Pernille says. Her hands come into frame as she cups your face and presses a kiss in greeting to your forehead.

"I mean it, Natalia!" Magda continues after giving you your own soft greeting," Hands where I can see them! You will not defile my daughter in my presence."

Natalia splutters. "I-I don't defile her! I...We..."

"Morsa," You groan, your cheeks flushing red," You're embarrassing me."

The last shot captured is off Magda's fingers reaching out to pinch your cheek.

"Good," She says," One of has to."

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #The Big Adventures Universe

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 3 months

Text

His Forever Valentine.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

authors note - happy valentines day you sexy people, mwah !!

word count - 4.3k

in which, you and harry have been each others valentines for what seems like forever, it all started back in 2014, and now, in 2024, your love story is still going strong, so when you look back on memories from over the years, the two of you realise just how far you’ve really come.

February 14th, 2024.

You let out a soft huff.

Last night, you and your husband had taken part in some secret little rendezvous and that had meant that clothes were discarded all over the floor, which you had left until this morning to be cleaned up.

So now, here you were.

As you tidy up the bedroom, picking up clothes strewn across the floor, your foot suddenly collides with something solid.

You glance down and notice a shoebox with "Valentine's Day" scrawled across the lid. Curiosity piqued, you bend down to pick it up, recognizing it as the container for your cherished Polaroid camera and the collection of snapshots you and your husband have taken on Valentine's Days past.

With a gentle tug, you open the lid, revealing a treasure trove of memories captured in instant film. Each photograph tells a story of love, laughter, and shared moments over the years.

You smile as you sift through the images, remembering the joy of each Valentine's Day celebration spent together.

The camera nestled among the Polaroids brings back memories of spontaneous snapshots, impromptu poses, and candid shots captured in the heat of the moment. It's a tangible reminder of the love that has grown and deepened between you and your husband since you first embarked on this journey together.

As you hold the camera in your hands, you're transported back to those special moments frozen in time. From romantic dinners to adventurous outings, each Polaroid is a testament to the bond you share and the memories you've created together.

You can't help but laugh softly as you descend the stairs, the shoebox cradled carefully in your arms. Entering the living room, you find your husband seated, still clad in his workout attire from his early morning gym session.

As you approach him, you place the box gently on his lap, causing him to look up at you with a puzzled expression, a crease forming in his eyebrows as he registers the unexpected gift.

"It was tucked away in the bedroom," you explain, intertwining your fingers with his. "I thought it would be nice to take a trip down memory lane together."

Feeling his warm lips pressing against the top of your head, you lean into his affectionate gesture, savoring the moment of closeness. As he opens up the box and pulls out the first Polaroid, a wave of nostalgia washes over you.

The image captures him back in 2013, a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he holds a rose between his teeth.

You remember that day vividly, as if it were yesterday. It was your first Valentine's Day together, and he had surprised you with a romantic gesture that had left you speechless.

Seeing the Polaroid now, you can't help but smile at the memory of his playful antics and the joy it had brought you.

As he gazes at the photograph, a fond smile tugs at his lips.

"M’remember this," he murmurs, his voice laced with affection. "That was such a fun day."

The memory floods back, enveloping you in a cascade of emotions as you revisit that magical Valentine's Day four months into your relationship with Harry. You can still feel the nervous excitement fluttering in your chest as you try to persuade him to play along with your whimsical idea.

"Come on, H," you urge, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you hold out the single red rose. "It'll be hilarious! You'll look so macho with the rose between your teeth."

Harry's expression is a mixture of amusement and reluctance as he eyes the flower skeptically.

"I don't know, babe," he says, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. "It feels a bit silly."

But you're determined to coax him into indulging your playful whim. Fluttering your eyelashes at him, you pout exaggeratedly, knowing full well the effect it has on him.

"Please, H," you plead, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes. "It'll be our little Valentine's Day joke."

Unable to resist your charms, Harry finally relents with a chuckle, a reluctant smile playing on his lips.

"Alright, fine," he concedes, taking the rose from your hand and tentatively placing it between his teeth. "But if anyone sees us, I'm blaming you."

You can't help but giggle at his mock seriousness, feeling a rush of affection for the man who's willing to go along with your whimsical antics just to see you smile.

/ /

Back in the present moment, Harry reaches for another Polaroid from the box, his fingers delicately tracing the edges of the photograph. As he pulls it out, you feel a surge of anticipation, eager to revisit another cherished memory captured on Valentine's Day.

This time, the image transports you back to 2015, seated in a cozy restaurant with Harry across the table, his hand clasping yours tenderly.

You remember that evening vividly, the soft glow of candlelight casting a warm ambiance as you savored each other's company over a romantic dinner. Harry's gaze, filled with love and adoration, never wavered from yours as you shared laughter, conversation, and stolen glances throughout the night.

As you study the Polaroid, the memory comes flooding back, enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth and affection. It's moments like these, captured in snapshots of time, that remind you of the depth of your connection and the beauty of your love story.

With a soft smile, Harry leans over and presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, his touch a silent affirmation of the love that continues to blossom between you.

As you sit across from Harry in the cozy restaurant, the air thick with anticipation and love, you notice a hint of nervousness flickering in his eyes.

Suddenly, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box, causing your heart to skip a beat.

Your eyes widen in surprise as Harry's words hang in the air, his hesitant demeanor only adding to the gravity of the moment.

"I have something for you," he says softly, his voice tinged with a mixture of apprehension and excitement.

With trembling hands, he opens the box, revealing a delicate piece of jewelry with what appears to have a key nestled within. Your breath catches in your throat as you realize the significance of his gesture, your heart pounding with anticipation.

But before you can fully process the contents of the box, Harry clears his throat nervously, his gaze locking with yours.

"I... I have something else to ask you," he begins, his voice slightly shaky. "Would you... would you like to move in with me?"

Tears shimmer in your eyes as you reach for Harry's hand across the table, squeezing it tightly in a silent affirmation of your love and devotion.

"Yes," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. "Yes, Harry, I would love to move in with you."

/ /

Harry's laughter fills the room once more as he reminisces about that special evening. With a fond smile, he looks up at you, his eyes sparkling with affection.

"That was one of the nicest evenings we've shared together," he muses, his voice tinged with nostalgia.

You nod in agreement, feeling a rush of warmth flood your heart as you recall the joy and love that had enveloped you both on that unforgettable Valentine's Day.

It was a moment of pure bliss, a testament to the strength of your bond and the depth of your connection.

As you gaze at Harry, his laughter echoing in the room, you can't help but marvel at the journey you've embarked on together. Through the ups and downs, the laughter and tears, you've remained by each other's side, growing stronger with each passing day.

Harry reaches for another Polaroid from the box, his fingers brushing against the edges of the photograph with a tender reverence. As he pulls it out, you feel a rush of excitement, knowing that this snapshot holds yet another cherished memory from your shared Valentine's Day celebrations.

This time, the image transports you back to 2017, a year filled with love, laughter, and a furry addition to your family.

You remember the joyous moment vividly, the surprise etched on Harry's face as he laid eyes on the adorable puppy you had carefully chosen for him. It was a breed he had always admired, and seeing his eyes light up with delight was a gift in itself.

In the Polaroid, Harry's face is aglow with happiness as he lets the puppy kiss his cheek, his smile radiant and infectious. The bond between them is palpable, a testament to the love and companionship that would come to define their relationship over the years.

As Harry sat on the couch, oblivious to the surprise in store, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves in your stomach. Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you walked into the room, a mischievous grin playing on your lips as you held the squirming puppy in your arms.

"Hey, babe," you greeted Harry with a smile, trying to mask your excitement. "I have something for you."

Harry looked up from his book, curiosity flickering in his eyes as he watched you approach.

"What's that?" he asked, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion.

With a dramatic flourish, you revealed the wriggling bundle of fur in your arms, watching as Harry's eyes widened in surprise.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" you exclaimed, unable to contain your excitement any longer.

Harry's expression shifted from confusion to sheer delight as he took in the sight of the puppy, its tail wagging furiously as it sniffed the air in excitement.

"No way!" he exclaimed, his face breaking into a wide grin. "S’this for me?"

You nodded eagerly, your heart swelling with happiness at his reaction.

"Yes, it's for you," you confirmed, gently placing the puppy in his arms. "I know how much you've always wanted a dog, so I thought it was time we added a furry friend to our family."

Tears welled up in Harry's eyes as he held the puppy close, his heart overflowing with gratitude and love.

"I can't believe you did this," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "This is the best Valentine's Day gift ever."

As you watched the scene unfold before you, the room filled with laughter and the sound of happy barks, you knew that this moment would be etched in your memory forever. It was a testament to the power of love and the joy of sharing life's precious moments with the ones you hold dear.

/ /

Harry's fingers gently stroke the fur of the large, but still beloved, dog nestled next to him. Pancake, now fully grown but forever a puppy at heart, looks up at Harry with adoring eyes, a silent reminder of the bond they share.

With a nostalgic smile, Harry recalls the early days when Pancake was just a tiny ball of fur, bounding around the house with endless energy and mischief.

"Remember when he was small enough to fit in the palm of my hand?" Harry muses, his voice tinged with fondness.

You nod, your own heart swelling with affection as you watch the pair interact.

"Those were some unforgettable times," you agree, your voice soft with reminiscence. "He's grown so much since then, but he'll always be our little Pancake."

With a sense of anticipation, Harry reaches for another Polaroid from the box, his movements deliberate as he carefully selects the next snapshot to relive. As he pulls it out, your breath catches in your throat, anticipation building as you recognize the significance of the photograph.

This time, the image transports you back to a breathtaking sunset in Italy, a moment forever etched in your memory as the day Harry asked you to be his forever.

In the Polaroid, the radiant glow of the Italian sunset provides the perfect backdrop to the centerpiece of the image: your sparkling engagement ring, glimmering in the fading light. Memories flood back as you recall the magic of that evening, the air thick with anticipation as Harry led you to the terrace of your shared villa.

The setting sun cast a golden hue over the landscape, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink as you stood hand in hand with Harry, the world seemingly frozen in time. With trembling hands and a heart full of love, Harry dropped to one knee, his eyes shining with emotion as he poured his heart out to you in a heartfelt proposal.

The air is alive with the scent of Mediterranean flowers and the soft murmur of the evening breeze. Harry's hand clasps yours tightly, his gaze fixed on yours with unwavering intensity as he leads you to the edge of the terrace, where the sun dips below the horizon in a fiery display of color.

"Close your eyes," Harry whispers, his voice tinged with excitement as he guides you to a spot overlooking the rolling hills and the sparkling sea below. You comply, a smile playing on your lips as you anticipate the surprise Harry has in store.

A moment later, you feel his warm breath against your ear as he murmurs softly, "Okay, now open them."

As you open your eyes, the breathtaking sight before you takes your breath away. The sky is ablaze with hues of orange and pink, casting a warm glow over the landscape as the sun sets in a magnificent display of natural beauty. Candlelit lanterns twinkle along the terrace, creating a romantic ambiance that sets your heart aflutter.

"It's beautiful," you breathe, turning to Harry with a look of wonder on your face.

Harry smiles, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he takes your hand in his leading you further onto the terrace until you're bathed in the soft, golden light of the setting sun.

And then, with a suddenness that catches you off guard, Harry drops to one knee, his hand reaching into his pocket as he pulls out a small velvet box. Your heart leaps into your throat as you realize what's happening, your breath catching as Harry's eyes meet yours, filled with love and determination.

"From the moment I met you, I knew you were the one," Harry begins, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "You've brought so much joy and love into my life, and I can't imagine spending another day without you by my side."

As he speaks, Harry opens the box to reveal the dazzling engagement ring nestled within, its sparkle reflecting the light of the setting sun.

"Will you marry me?" he asks, his voice soft but resolute, his eyes never leaving yours as he waits for your answer.

/ /

Harry's voice breaks through your reverie, his words a tender reminder of the significance of that day.

"I still can't believe you said yes," he murmurs, his eyes reflecting the love and wonder he felt in that moment.

You reach for Harry's hand, squeezing it gently as you relive the joy and excitement of your engagement.

"It was the easiest 'yes' I've ever said," you reply, your voice filled with warmth and affection.

Harry reaches for another Polaroid from the box, his fingers tracing the edges of the photograph with a gentle reverence. As he pulls it out, his breath catches in his throat, a small gasp escaping his lips as he realizes the significance of the snapshot.

In the Polaroid, you and Harry stand side by side, radiant in your wedding attire, surrounded by the lush greenery of the church garden. The joy and love that radiate from the photograph are palpable, a testament to the happiness you both felt in that momentous occasion.

Harry's eyes linger on the image, a soft smile playing on his lips as he recalls the whirlwind of emotions that swept over him on your wedding day. It was a day filled with love, laughter, and promises of forever, a day you had both chosen to celebrate your love on Valentine's Day, the most romantic day of the year.

Little did you know at the time that Harry's best friend, Niall, had snapped the photograph, capturing the tender moment without either of you realizing it.

"M’can't believe it," Harry murmured, his voice filled with wonder as he gazed into your eyes, his own sparkling with love and adoration. "We're finally husband and wife."

You couldn't help but smile, feeling a rush of happiness wash over you as you took in the sight of your new husband, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the setting sun.

"I know," you replied, your voice tinged with excitement. "It still feels like a dream."

As you walked hand in hand through the garden, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in a cocoon of love and happiness. Each step felt like a dance, a celebration of your newfound union and the beginning of your shared journey as husband and wife.

"I love you," Harry whispered, his words a tender declaration of his devotion as he pulled you closer into his embrace. "I've never been happier than I am in this moment, with you by my side."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you leaned into Harry's chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours.

"I love you too," you whispered back, your voice filled with emotion. "More than words can say."

/ /

With a tender smile, Harry reaches for another Polaroid from the box, his fingers tracing the edges of the photograph with a sense of reverence. As he pulls it out, he holds it close to his chest, his eyes shining with emotion as he gazes at the image. This, he declares, is one of his favorites so far.

In the Polaroid, Harry is fast asleep, his features softened in slumber as he lies peacefully in bed, unaware of the momentous news about to unfold. In the foreground, a pregnancy test rests on the bedside table, its result displayed prominently for the camera to capture.

You remember the moment vividly, the mix of nerves and excitement coursing through your veins as you prepared to share the life-changing news with Harry. With a trembling hand, you had set up the camera, carefully framing the shot to include both Harry and the pregnancy test, capturing the raw emotion of the moment for posterity.

You and Harry sat side by side under a blanket of stars, the soft glow of moonlight casting a romantic ambiance over the scene. With the night sky twinkling above you, you knew it was the perfect moment to share the life-changing news you had been keeping a secret.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you turned to Harry, your heart pounding in your chest as you mustered the courage to speak.

"Harry, there's something I need to tell you," you began, your voice barely above a whisper.

Harry turned to you, his eyes shining with curiosity and affection.

"What is it, love?" he asked, his hand reaching out to gently caress yours.

With a nervous flutter in your stomach, you took a deep breath before blurting out the words you had been rehearsing in your mind.

"I'm pregnant," you confessed, your voice trembling with emotion.

At first, Harry's expression registered disbelief, his eyes widening in shock as he processed your words.

"Really?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with a mixture of surprise and disbelief.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips as you reached into your pocket to retrieve the pregnancy test. Holding it out to Harry, you watched as his eyes flickered from the test to your face and back again, the realization slowly sinking in.

Tears welled up in Harry's eyes as he took the test from you, his hands trembling slightly as he examined the result. And then, as the truth of the moment washed over him, he broke into tears, his emotions overflowing as he pulled you into a tight embrace.

"M’going to be a daddy," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I can't believe it."

/ /

As Harry studies the photograph, a myriad of emotions flicker across his face, from surprise to joy to overwhelming love.

"I remember this," he murmurs, his voice soft with emotion. "I had no idea what was coming."

You reach out to grasp his hand, squeezing it gently as you relive the anticipation and excitement of that unforgettable moment.

"It was one of the happiest moments of my life," you confess, your heart swelling with love for the man beside you.

With a tender smile, Harry leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace.

"And it was the beginning of the greatest adventure of our lives," he whispers, his voice filled with love and gratitude.

And just like that your almost two year old made his presence known.

As Sebastian toddles into the room, his chubby cheeks flushed with excitement from his playtime adventures in the toy room, a delighted squeal escapes his lips at the sight of his father. With a burst of energy, he throws himself onto Harry's lap, his tiny arms wrapping around his father's neck as he snuggles in close.

Harry chuckles warmly at Sebastian's exuberance, his heart swelling with love as he wraps his arms around his son in a tight embrace.

"Hey there, little buddy," he greets, his voice filled with affection as he ruffles Sebastian's curly hair, the same curls that match his own.

Sebastian giggles gleefully, his eyes sparkling with joy as he gazes up at his father. His attention is quickly drawn to the cross necklace dangling around Harry's neck, the delicate chain catching the light as it sways gently with his movements.

"Dada," Sebastian babbles, reaching out to touch the necklace with chubby fingers, his curiosity piqued by the shiny object.

Harry smiles down at his son, his heart swelling with pride at the sight of Sebastian's innocent fascination.

Sebastian's eyes widen with wonder as he continues to examine the necklace, his tiny fingers tracing the outline of the cross with gentle fascination.

"Pretty," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe.

Harry nods, a fond smile playing on his lips as he gazes down at his son.

"Yes, it is," he agrees, his heart overflowing with love for the precious little boy nestled in his arms.

As Sebastian sits in Harry's lap, giggling and playing with his father's necklace, you feel a pang of bittersweet nostalgia wash over you. Your little boy is growing up before your eyes, each day bringing new discoveries and adventures. You can't help but marvel at how quickly time seems to be slipping through your fingers.

Determined to capture this precious moment, you reach for the Polaroid camera resting on the nearby table. With a sense of urgency, you snap a photo of Harry and Sebastian, their smiles bright and their bond palpable. The sound of the camera's shutter clicking fills the room, freezing the moment in time for eternity.

As the photo develops before your eyes, you can't help but feel a swell of gratitude wash over you. This, you realize, is what life is all about—cherishing the fleeting moments of joy and love that make it all worthwhile.

With a gentle smile playing on your lips, you reach for the pen that lays on the coffee table, its sleek design catching the light as you pick it up. Gripping it firmly in your hand, you carefully write a special little message on the underneath of the Polaroid, a message of love and gratitude that you know will warm Harry's heart when he discovers it.

Once the message is complete, you place the Polaroid neatly back in the box, its presence a tangible reminder of the love and memories you've shared together on Valentine's Day. With a sense of satisfaction, you close the lid, knowing that this small gesture will hold a special place in Harry's heart for years to come.

Turning to Harry, who sits beside you with Sebastian in his lap, you snuggle into his warm embrace, reveling in the comfort and love that surrounds you.

"I love you," you whisper, your voice filled with emotion as you press a kiss to his cheek.

Harry's arms tighten around you, pulling you close as he murmurs softly,

"I love you both so much." His words are a tender declaration of his love, a reminder of the bond that binds you together as a family.

With another Polaroid security added to the box, your reloaded just how much you can’t wait to add even more photos as the years progress.

343 notes · View notes

s-uwu-binie · 1 year

Text

❥ bf!txt's reaction to you falling asleep on another member's shoulder ੈ♡˳

➻ txt x gn!reader

➻ genre: all things fluffy <3

➻ the one where they get pouty and clingy over who gets to be your headrest, just really really whipped boys again

➻ requested by @mywonie, i hope you like it bubs ^^

𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗜 𝗬𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗝𝗨𝗡

mans is a tad bit possessive of you (in the healthy way ofc, baes), which is something you already knew early on in the relationship. but it wasn’t your fault you were so sleepy to not notice the difference on which shoulders was your boyfriend’s. in the end, you ended up laying your head on soobin’s stiff shoulder, him already giving nervous side glances to yeonjun’s hooded gaze. he nearly jumped out of his seat from the eldest’s unrelenting stare.

safe to say yeonjun’s hand is draped on your thigh the whole time, only budging when he notices the immense stiffness in soobin’s poor shoulders. yeonjun takes it upon himself to carefully transfer your position from soobin to his. the smirk he tries to hold back becomes even more difficult to suppress once you snuggle into his firm chest, searching for his familiar warmth with an incoherent murmur.

his hand would reach up to stroke your hair, his lips naturally curled to a pouty smile, “did you sleep well, baby?”

the first thing he’d do when you open your eyes is to either tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear if it’s long enough or to childishly boop your nose, finding you absolutely adorable.

𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗜 𝗦𝗢𝗢𝗕𝗜𝗡

with soobin, i feel as though he would be fine with it. he trusts his members with you, and vice versa. there would be a twinge of jealousy slowly brewing inside him, but it’s barely even there when he notices your peaceful form slumped over beomgyu. the whole ride would be filled with beomgyu teasing soobin, as expected from choi beomgyu himself. the trickster pulls out his phone and opens the group chat immediately, texting soobin how he’s missing out on being your personal headrest.

let’s just say soobin is not impressed in the duration of the whole ride. i can imagine he’d be sporting a slight pout on his face, dimples making an appearance. his arms are crossed and eyes staring holes at beomgyu’s head. the others take this moment to take snapshots of his mini sulking session, all sending it to you when you wake up later on (all which you save in an album dedicated to soobin <3).

trust that soobin won’t let you go once you all reach your destination, his massive hands cupping your cheeks to gently wake you up from your nap.

“you can rest on my shoulder on the way back, angel.” he says, sending the other choi a nasty look as he does so, fingers intertwined with yours.

𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗜 𝗕𝗘𝗢𝗠𝗚𝗬𝗨

whiney. let me tell you that. he’d complain so much to the point of almost waking you up from your sleep, earning him a pointed look from taehyun (telling him to shut up to avoid disturbing your rest), whose shoulder you were leaning on. beomgyu effectively quiets down for the next few hours because of this. but don’t get it wrong, he’s still plenty whiney about it, albeit silently. beomgyu would play with the hem on his shirt, wiggle his feet in boredom as he waits impatiently for you to rouse from your nap.

i bet he would be dying on the inside tho, like?? he was right there, yet you still managed to sleep on taehyun. you better prepare for the endless rambling you will face by the time you wake up, because he will not shut up i swear. he would be clinging to your arm, chin resting on your shoulder with him talking your ear out about how much he wanted to cuddle with you the whole time.

he definitely would poke fun at you tho. he’d softly trace your lips with his thumb, “you got some drool here, baby.”

beomgyu’s clearly bluffing, but he’d really do just about anything just to see you scramble your hands up to your face as he stares at you with a boyish smile on his handsome face.

𝗞𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗔𝗘𝗛𝗬𝗨𝗡

now this man right here, this guy is soft and tender when it comes to you. yep, he may be pretty rough with the others but never with you. taehyun would be totally chill about it actually. the moment your head rested on kai’s shoulder, he did nothing but smile at the two of you. all he cares about is you’re getting the sleep you need. plus, he trusts the members with you a whole lot, and vice versa. and the fact that you’re comfortable enough to sleep around them brings genuine joy in taehyun's heart, only proving that you are already a part of their little family.

i imagine taehyun wearing a cute grin on his face, observing how kai gently adjusts your position on his stature. just a couple of best friends ensuring that you’re comfortable and all. i also feel like taehyun would sneak photos of you, then set it as his wallpaper. he’s that chill about it.

you would be surprised when taehyun wakes you up by kissing your forehead, lips pecking in a feather-like motion.

“did you have a good sleep?” he’d keep pecking you on your crown, “i bet you did.”

𝗛𝗨𝗘𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗞𝗔𝗜

gentle giant. that’s what he is to you. i feel he is another one who is chill about it, but he is slightly more clingy than taehyun. he’d pull a pout when you snuggle into yeonjun’s warmth, but he doesn’t say anything about it. he just stares lovingly at your sleepy face, when he’s supposed to be putting on a pouty front. what i can see happening is that kai would surely bring one of his precious plushies. he’d place them in your lap, just so you can have something to hold onto or cuddle with while you slept on yeonjun’s broad shoulder.

hyuka would be so cute about this too :((( he’d be all smiley and giggly about it, completely disregarding the fact that you’re resting on yeonjun the entire time. his undivided attention is all on you now, eyes trailing on how adorable your scrunched brows and squished cheeks are at this moment.

“you’re so cute like this,” he’d coo at you. “i could just kiss you right now.”

you’d be left hiding behind the fluffy plushie in your hands by the end of it.

𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱 © 𝘀-𝘂𝘄𝘂-𝗯𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗲

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tkwrites · 1 month

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Let the Cleaners Deal With It - Quinn Hughes x Sarah (ofc)

Photo from Pinterest

Title: Let the Cleaners Deal With It

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (OFC)

Warnings: Periods, Menstruation, talks of blood, and embarrassment. If I missed something, please let me know.

Summary: When Quinn wakes to Sarah frantically cleaning after unexpectedly getting her period, he insists she let the cleaners deal with it.

Word Count: 750

Comments: Thank you to the Lovely Anon who requested this. Your request came in, and my mind immediately started whirring.

I saw you like fancfic ideas. for the Quinn and Sarah series: Maybe Sarah gets her period at an inconvenient place and Quinn helps her deal with it. Or maybe she bleeds through while she’s sleeping and he’s super sweet about it. Major fluff

Let the Cleaners Deal with it

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

It was too early for either of them to be up. The city lights were still visible through the windows, the inky night sky spilling out behind their artificial glow. Even still, Sarah was up and rustling around. From her movement, she sounded almost frantic.

“What are you doing?” Quinn asked. His voice was groggier than he expected and he cleared his throat.

“I'm just - cleaning up.”

“What?” he asked, sitting up.

She blew a harsh breath out of her nose, “I got my period.”

With an ice cube in one hand and paper towels in the other, she was trying to work the blood out of his soft, expensive sheets.

Now that his eyes had adjusted to the dim Quinn could see the small spot on the gray-blue material. Scooting closer, he reached for her hand, stopping the frenzied way she was attacking it with the ice. “You don't need to do that. The cleaners can get it out.”

She made a noise in her throat, pulled her wrist out of his grasp, and continued on. “Quinn I got blood on your sheets. It's better to get it out now while it's fresh so it won't stain,” she said, pressing the paper towel down to soak up the blood and water.

This time, he reached out and took the ice cube from her hand. He regretted it immediately. Even though it forced her to stop, he didn’t have anywhere to put it. Now it was melting, cold water trickling between his fingers

She finally looked up and met his eyes, embarrassment all over her pretty face.

He knew he was still partially asleep, but he didn’t know why she was making such a big deal of this. It’s not like she could help it. “Why are you so worried?”

“I'm twenty seven years old. I've been getting a period for thirteen fucking years. I should have a handle on this by now,” she said, arms crossing over her chest as her shoulders shrugged almost to her ears as if she were trying to hide.

Quinn rubbed his eyes, willing his mind to wake. “Didn’t you tell me last week that your IUD makes it so your cycle is hard to predict?”

“Yeah.”

“So how would you know it was coming?”

“I don't know,” she said, exasperated, throwing her hands up.

“Do you need anything? Tampons or whatever?”

“No, I had a disc in my bag.”

“Do you have cramps? Do you need me to get you some Tylenol or get you off?”

She arched an eyebrow.

“What? Isn't having an orgasm supposed to help with period cramps?”

“Yeah, but why do you know that?”

“I've had other girlfriends, Sar,” he reminded gently. “I know because they told me.”

She wrinkled her nose, not liking to think about his past girlfriends.

“So no cramps? Or yes, cramps?”

“No. I don't really get them anymore with the IUD. I'm just really fucking embarrassed,” she said, her free hand covering her eyes.

“This is just your body doing what it does, except it didn't give you any warning,” Quinn said. “I promise the cleaners can get it out. They’ve gotten all kinds of stains out of my clothes before.”

Her shoulders dropped, almost defeated.

“Come back to bed,” he said, scooting back to his side, and wiping his hand on the duvet cover.

“The sheets are all wet now,” she said, pressing the paper towels in again, attempting to soak up the moisture.

He tsked. “Guess you’ll have to sleep on top of me then,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.

She laughed and threw the paper towels in the trash can.

Slipping under the covers, she didn’t get on top of him, but she did crowd into his half of the bed.

“Thank you for being so understanding about this,” she said, her voice quiet and chagrined.

“It’s not like you can help it,” he said, rolling onto his side so he could pull her against him and tuck his nose into her hair.

She tried to fall back to sleep, but it didn’t come. She couldn’t get his casual invitation to get her off out of her mind.

“Quinn,” she whispered a little later, trailing her fingers up his arm.

“Hmm?” His voice was low and sleepy.

“Does that offer to get me off still stand?”

He huffed a laugh into her hair, even as his hand inched down her stomach. “Did those cramps set in?”

“Something like that.”

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out my Fanfiction Masterlist

#quinn & sarah snapshots #asks #answered #quinn hughes #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes x ofc #quinn hughes oneshot #qh43 #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey fic #hockey romance #hockey fanfiction #tw periods #tw blood

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hslllot · 1 year

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Birthday Week

rated m (smut) | 7k words | harry x reader

Snapshots of your week with Harry.

Monday

You weren’t sure what woke you up before your alarm went off: The May sunshine seeping through the blinds and flooding your bedroom, or the unusual sounds of clanging pots and pans coming from the kitchen downstairs.

Not yet ready to open your eyes and commit to waking up for the day, you rolled over and blindly reached out to find the other side of your bed empty. It was no surprise, given that Harry was typically an early riser. You rolled over again, this time sinking deeper into your pillow and pulling up your comforter to get yourself back into a cozy state of sleep.

Of course, your boyfriend of two years had other plans for you.

The bedroom door creaked open and you could hear his bare feet softly padding across the floor to your side of the bed. Without opening your eyes, you heard him place something on the bedside table.

“Babe,” he whispered.

You were half-awake and half-asleep. Still refusing to open your eyes, the sound that came out of your mouth was somewhere between a whine and a groan.

Again, your boyfriend whispered, “babe,” but this time, he gently rested his fingers on the side of your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “I’ve made your favourite.”

His soft touch is what willed your eyes open. When your vision finally adjusted to the sunlight, you found him standing next to the bed in his white robe, his hair still tousled on the side of his head he usually slept on. On the table next to him was a wooden tray with breakfast and a small vase filled with your favourite flowers.

You realized he hadn’t been up for his regular early morning run. No, he’d been busy in the kitchen.

“What’s all this, H?” Your voice still groggy and filled with sleep. The smile on his face grew as he moved his hand from your face to your hair.

“Happy birthday week, my love.”

Your tired mind tried to figure out what day of the week it was, and the expression on Harry’s face went from soft and doting to amused.

“Happy birthd- what? Harry, my birthday’s not till Thursday.”

“I know,” he giggled. “But I’d like to celebrate you all week, that alright?”

And how could you be annoyed that he woke you up earlier than usual when he was so sweet?

“Okay,” you chirped.

You never made a big deal out of your birthday because being the center of attention made you a bit anxious. You didn’t like when people sang happy birthday or watched as you opened gifts. You felt self-conscious about the way you reacted, worried that you wouldn’t look happy enough, or couldn’t hide the disappointment of receiving something you didn’t want or need. You never wanted to appear ungrateful so you always took it with a smile on your face. Sat through the discomfort and awkwardness of it all. But as you got older, you became more selective about how and with whom you spent your birthday.

Your last two birthdays had been quiet affairs, as per your request. Last year, you were on the road with Harry. The two of you ate a nice breakfast together and he had your favourite cake and some champagne backstage for everyone to enjoy. The year before that, he was also on the road, but since it was earlier in your relationship you opted to stay home. You went for dinner and drinks with a couple of your best friends and afterward enjoyed a tipsy (and slightly R-rated) FaceTime with Harry.

This year, with a stroke of luck, he had two weeks off from touring. Your birthday happened to fall during those two weeks.

About a week ago, he asked what you wanted to do for the occasion and you just suggested going for dinner on Thursday night.

“Nothing too elaborate.”

He seemed unimpressed by that.

“I’m finally here and not working on your birthday and can give you 100% of my attention. Please, please, please,” he begged. “Let me throw you a small party.”

It was hard to say no when you knew how happy it would make him. Harry had several love languages, but acts of service was the one he enjoyed speaking the most, followed closely by giving gifts.

So you caved, agreeing to let him hold a very small gathering on Saturday at his house, your house (seeing as you moved in right before the most recent leg of his tour).

“Scooch up,” he instructed. And you sat up in bed while he grabbed the tray and placed it in front of you.

There were two sets of your favourite breakfast, eggs benedict, with some fresh fruit and two-coffee-filled mugs.

“Harry, this looks amazing. You didn’t have to do this.”

He walked around to his side of the bed, sitting next to you. He placed a gentle kiss on your temple before cozying up and tilting his head to rest on top of yours.

“I wanted to, and ‘s nothing,” he answered. But you didn’t think it was nothing, you thought it was sweet and thoughtful.

Turning your face up toward his, you pouted your lips and urged him to kiss you. He obliged with a soft peck and you grabbed a hold of his face and kissed him again. And again. And again. The two of you giggled and you murmured quiet ‘thank yous’ as you showered him with small kisses all over his face.

“Thank. You.” you said, smacking a final kiss on his lips before reaching for a set of cutlery. “How did I get so lucky?”

You didn’t miss the smitten look in his eye, or the way his two front teeth sunk into his bottom lip.

“Love you too…” he reciprocated. “Oh, and it’s your tits, you’ve got great tits,” he cackled.

“Shut up.”

Tuesday

Your day was shit.

Your job was shit.

You felt like shit.

This morning, you’d slept through your alarm and woke to find that Harry was gone. It wasn’t that you expected breakfast in bed again… But you thought after he went on and on yesterday about your birthday week, that he’d at least be around for a cuddle this morning.

Instead, all you had was a text message and fifteen minutes to get yourself up and out the door.

Harry: Baaaabe I forgot I had a meeting with the team this morning. I’ll see you after work x

You weren’t actually mad at him for that, moreso annoyed at yourself for sleeping in and having to rush. You hated being late and feeling flustered. Foregoing your regular morning routine had you out of sorts.

When you got downstairs and were ready to fly out the door without breakfast, you realized Harry had left a croissant and your usual smoothie waiting on the counter. Next to it was a note that read: Birthday week x

The worried creases in your forehead smoothed themselves out, and a warmth permeated your chest, but you didn’t have time to dwell on the feeling. You grabbed your breakfast, thoughtfully prepared by your partner, and decided you’d call him and say thanks when you got to your office.

Once you’d finally arrived at work (15 minutes late), your coworkers made a point to get on every single one of your last nerves.

When you walked out of the elevator and into your workplace, you were feeling a bit flustered because you hated being late. Of course, an intern who wasn’t paying attention walked right into you, spilling your smoothie all over the floor and on to your clothes.

You resisted the urge to have a meltdown. Instead, you accepted their apology and calmly walked to your office. A spare shirt was kept in your office for this exact situation.

Then, Kerri from finance came into your office to let you know (somewhat passive aggressively) that the end-of-month reports that were filed last week were all input incorrectly. You were not the person who filed the reports, but apparently you were the person who had to fix them.

Maybe you were just in an irritable mood, but your day was hectic and filled with fixing everyone’s mistakes. You never got the chance to call Harry until your lunch break, and when you did he was in a meeting and couldn’t answer. So you just texted him and told him you’d see him after work.

When you got home, you hoped that he would be okay with a relaxing evening that didn’t involve anything requiring any brain power. You were exhausted.

“Harry, you home?” You called out.

“In the kitchen!”

You followed the sound of his voice through the house, leaving a trail of belongings, your bag, your coat, your shoes, discarding the weight of a stressful and mundane work day behind you.

“Have you eaten?” You asked as you moved through the halls of your home. “I can’t be arsed to cook something right now, thinking we should takeout? Kerri from finance is an absolute turd of a huma-”

You were interrupted by the sight of your boyfriend sitting at your dining table. The lights in the room were all dimmed. The table was set with food, flowers, and wine, all illuminated by candlelight.

“Happy Tuesday-before-your-birthday!” He exclaimed with arms outstretched, fingers wiggling, and the biggest smile plastered across his face. He stood up from the table, his expression warping into a pout, “I’m sorry about Kerri from finance.”

The sight of him was enough to short circuit your memory, all thoughts of your work day went out the window.

“H… This is… So lovely.” You scanned the table and saw your favourite dishes laid out.

He walked toward you and wrapped you in his arms. You held onto him tightly while he placed a kiss on the side of your head.

“Sit down and tell me about your shit day.” He murmured into your hair.

Airing out your frustrations felt silly now. But you sat and vented about your coworkers while Harry poured you a glass of red wine. You indulged in your favourite meal, that he proudly cooked himself, and the conversation shifted from your work, to asking how his meeting went and what he’d been up to all day. The longer you sat with him the more relaxed you became. And the more wine you drank, the more tired you felt.

When you let out a yawn, you apologized, “It’s not you, I swear. Just a long day.”

He squeezed your knee under the table and when you looked up at him he had the cheekiest smirk plastered across his face. A smirk you’d seen many times before. You reached out and stuck your finger in his dimple.

“I’ve got a surprise for you actually. In the bedroom.” He grabbed your finger and pretended to chew on it.

You were torn, wanting to show the man next to you all kinds of appreciation in the bedroom, but at the same time feeling like you could fall asleep on top of the dining table if you let yourself.

“Babe… I’m sorry. I want to… you know. But I’m just so tired. Maybe we can -”

He interrupted you again, “No, ‘s not that.” He let go of your finger but took your whole hand in his. He noticed the way you were concerned over all the dishes and leftover food on the table. “I’ll take care of this later, come with me.”

With your fingers entwined, you followed him up the stairs and into the bedroom. Before you reached the room, you could hear quiet, soothing music playing. When you finally saw what he had prepared, you let out an audible gasp.

The lights in the large master bedroom were dimmed, save for the aromatic candles that were lit and dispersed around the room. Red and white rose petals were scattered across the floor. In the middle of the room was a massage table, set up with clean white sheets, and a cart filled with different oils, lotions, and scents. You approached the table and found a beautiful white, silk robe, with your initials monogrammed on the chest.

“Harry…” You traced your finger over the delicately embroidered initials.

“I know ’m not a professional,” he grabbed the robe and urged you to take it. “But you’ve said before that I give really good massages.”

You took it from him and he continued, “Wait… You weren’t lying, right? Like you actually think I give good massages? You’re not pulling a Chandler?”

“Don’t worry, you do,” you barely managed to form a sentence, in awe of the man next to you.

“K, good. Though I suppose I could’ve hired someo-”

It was your turn to interrupt him. You dropped the robe and threw your arms around his neck, capturing his lips in a kiss that had your head spinning. He reciprocated, deepening the kiss with his tongue against yours. The firm grip he had on your waist slid down your curves and without breaking away from your kiss, he hoisted you up onto the massage table.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and stayed like that for a while, indulging in one another. Feeling, groping, pulling kiss after kiss, basically making out like a couple of teenagers. Your hands were everywhere, frenzied, in his hair, digging into his shoulders, pressed against his chest.

It was when you started subconsciously rutting against him that Harry broke away. “Swear this was just meant to be an innocent massage,” he whispered, breathless.

“It’s okay,” you choked out, still holding onto him while his arms caged you on the edge of the massage table.

“I know you’re tired… Let me take care of you.”

All you could do was nod.

He started carefully removing your work clothes, button by button, piece by piece, until you were left in nothing but your underwear. He stood there for a moment, just taking in the sight. It was overwhelming the way he looked at you, like he might devour you at any moment. While he stared, you reached around your back and unclasped your bra, letting it fall to the floor.

You could tell he was resisting the urge to touch you when he leaned in and whispered, “get on your stomach.”

The feeling of his hot breath against your ear sent a delicious shiver down your spine.

Doing as he requested, you positioned yourself on the massage table so that you were face down with your head resting on the pillow. You wondered if he would put the sheet over you, how they did for professional massages. Instead, you felt him place his hands on the backs of your ankles, moving each hand slowly up your calves, then your thighs, and stopping when he reached the bottom of your lace underwear. He gave your bum a quick squeeze, and used his thumbs to spread your cheeks apart, grazing up and over your most sensitive parts before dragging your underwear down and removing them completely. You were bare to him, and you willed yourself not to squirm under his gaze.

Despite your earlier feelings of being “too tired”, you could feel the desire building in the pit of your stomach. Between your makeout session and the way his hands felt on you, your body was practically begging for him.

He chose an oil from the cart and began to rub it into your lower back, smoothing his hands up toward your neck. The light citrus scent of the oil invaded your senses and clouded your thoughts.

The way his strong hands rubbed circles into your body had the stress of the day melting away. You didn’t realize how much tension you were carrying until his fingertips pressed into a knot at the base of your neck and a small moan escaped your lips. You heard him mutter “fuck” under his breath, and you wondered if having you sprawled out naked under his touch was affecting him the way it was affecting you.

You were still very tired and the combination of the soothing music, the candles, the oil, the dim lights, and his relaxing touch all had you on the edge of consciousness. But every time Harry’s hands dropped to your lower back, your heart rate began to pick up.

When he brought his hands to the backs of your thighs, your stomach clenched in arousal. He rubbed and squeezed and pinched up and down your thighs, every time stopping just before he reached the apex. He was inches from your core and he had to know that you were aching for him.

You gasped when you felt his mouth against your lower back, gently nipping at the skin while his fingers continued to knead your thighs.

“Need to touch you…” He breathed against your skin. “Can I- please?”

You answered him by raising your hips, just slightly, offering yourself to him.

He started by lightly grazing your inner thighs, trailing around where you wanted him most. It was maddening.

“Harry…” you urged him.

Finally, his daring fingertips made their way through your folds, gathering your wetness.

“Fuck”, he muttered again. You tried to crane your next to the side to catch a glimpse of him, and you noticed the way he rutted himself against the side of the table.

You wanted to reach back, to touch him, and relieve his ache the way he was relieving yours, but you felt dizzy, each stroke of his fingers against your clit sending you into a spiral.

When he finally slipped one of his long fingers into you, you gasped, and when he worked his second finger in, the gasp turned into a moan. The sensation of his fingers stretching you, easing in and out, had you clutching the massage table beneath you.

Your core tightened as he thrust his fingers, deeply and slowly inside of you.

“You feel so good, so wet,” he groaned.

When he removed his fingers, you were embarrassed by your frustrated reaction.

“Harry - please…”

He responded by gripping the backs of your knees and pulling them further apart, giving himself more access. Then, he concentrated his efforts on dragging your wetness up toward your clit. You buried your face deeper into the pillow as pleasure coursed through you.

He sunk his fingers back in with a steady rhythm and your body started to coil tighter, gripping him. While he worked you over relentlessly, he left wet, hot kisses on your back and shoulders. Your body was overwhelmed with a hot sensation and you couldn’t hold back your moans.

When you felt his fingers curl inside you, that’s when you started coming apart.

“H…” you were breathless, needy, and losing control of your body. Convulsions took over and a white heat washed over you.

When you were finished, Harry removed his fingers and moved to the head of the massage table. He leaned down and you turned your head so he could capture your lips in a dizzying kiss. You turned over for him and felt the weight of his stare on your entire body. You were on fire. Had your limbs not turned to jelly post-orgasm, you might’ve tried to pull him on top of you or tried to reach for his zipper where his erection was straining against his trousers. But you felt weak. Relaxed, and utterly completely satisfied. But weak.

Harry helped pull you up so you were sitting on the table. He grabbed your new silk robe, wrapping it around you and helping your arms through the sleeves. The robe was luxurious, like butter on your warm skin.

Harry stood tall in front of you now, his gaze seering into you. You willed yourself back to earth, back to consciousness.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he said, lifting your chin to leave a quick peck on your lips.

“It’s not my birthday.” You huffed, chuckling, knowing he didn’t care about the technicalities. “But thank you.”

He gave you another quick kiss. “Stay here while I start us a bath, okay?”

Wednesday

For the second day in a row, your morning routine had been interrupted.

Today, however, was under much better circumstances.

You woke up to the sound of your alarm, and almost immediately Harry latched on to you. You were still in a haze when he buried his face into the base of your throat, leaving a string of wet kisses and greedy licks. In a haze, your hand rested in his chocolate curls while he sucked bruises into the sensitive skin of your neck.

After the events of last night, you fully intended on making this morning about him. You were about to reach down toward his straining briefs. But he had other plans in mind, diving under the blankets and scaling down your body before you even had a chance to lay a finger on him.

He made quick work of you. First, placing a gentle open-mouth kiss on your clit, sending an awakening jolt through your tired body.

Then he went for a full taste, sucking and laving up every bit of you that he could. He alternated between diving inside of you and stroking over your swollen button with his soft, warm tongue. Occasionally he scraped his teeth across your sensitive nerves and your hips jolted in pleasure.

The heat that ran through you was intense. You searched for something to grab on to. One hand tangled itself in his soft curls, the other reached for his hand and grasped his fingers.

When you came, he rode it out with repeated flicks of his tongue and you pressed your hungry flesh to his face, grinding and smothering him until you couldn’t take it anymore.

Eventually, he pulled away and dragged himself up the bed to meet you at eye level. On your back, you were still trying to catch your breath and compose yourself. His hot breath fanned over your ear as he chuckled, “good morning.”

And a good morning it was.

----------

You walked into work feeling as refreshed as ever. Nothing and nobody could bring you down after the relaxing evening, and delicious morning, you had.

Around mid-afternoon, while you were plugging away on some paperwork, you were interrupted by a stranger in your office doorway.

“Delivery.”

The man held a basket filled with flowers and an assortment of treats. He confirmed your name and had you sign off on the delivery before leaving it on your desk.

The flowers were pink and purple tulips accompanied with a plain glass vase. Simple and elegant. A perfect fit for your desk. In the basket were some snacks you liked to indulge in throughout the day. Percy pigs, some pretzels, a pack of crisps. And notably there was a small, but long, rectangular box that quite obviously held a piece of jewelry.

Of course you didn’t have to look at the card to know who the gift was from, but you snickered to yourself when you opened it and read the message inside.

Fuck Kerri from finance. Happy birthday. H x

Although you felt your boyfriend was doing way too much for your birthday, you couldn’t deny how excited you were to see what was inside the box.

When you opened it, you were in disbelief.

The piece of jewelry was an Effy necklace you’d had your eye on for ages. It was a delicate chain made up of strands of 14 karat gold and adorned with various stones, amethyst, madeira citrine, and peridot, arranged into the shape of small flowers along the chain. You didn’t even remember telling Harry about the necklace, thinking it was too expensive and never wanting him to spend that kind of money on you. You wondered which of your friends or family told him about it.

Either way, you could feel the tears beginning to form in your eyes. You were overwhelmed with love.

A part of you thought he was insane for 1) spending this kind of money on you, and 2) trusting this gift with a random delivery person. Nonetheless, you tucked away the annoying side of you that thought about making a teasing remark, and opted for gratitude instead.

Knowing that Harry was at pilates at this time, you sent him a text message.

THIS IS TOO MUCH 🔪 but thank you and i love you so much. X

“Oooh, is it your birthday?”

You looked up to see Kerri from the finance department at your door. You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself while she eyed your flowers and gift basket.

“Yeah, it’s tomorrow actually.”

“Nice. Happy birthday!”

Thursday

“Good morning, baby.” Harry buried his face into your neck and pulled your hips back into his. “Do you feel wiser than you did yesterday?” He whispered against your skin.

“Hardly…”

“You know what wasn’t very wise?” He asked, trailing his lips across your jawline.

“Hmmm…”

His breath fanned over your ear, “Not taking the day off work.” He chuckled.

You let out a groan before checking the time. 7:16 AM.

“I can give you fifteen minutes.”

“Think I can make that work...” He nipped gently at your neck and rocked his hips forward, making you aware of his firmness prodding against you.

Your limbs weakened as he smoothed his hand under your shirt, over your stomach, and up towards your breast. His thumb brushed against your nipple, sending a burst of heat right to your core.

His other hand drifted downward, sliding between your thighs, and you felt your desire grow. He palmed you where you were most sensitive, and the heat of his touch spread through the cotton of your underwear.

“Harry…” you choked out.

He unlatched himself from your neck.

“Tell me what you want,” he rasped, sending shivers down your spine. His fingers traced the edge of your panties.

You arched your hips against his hand. “I want you. Please.”

He pushed your underwear aside and trailed the pads of his fingers between your lips. “Happy. Fucking. Birthday.” He emphasized each word with pressured strokes over your clit. You trembled, already feeling like you were on the edge.

You grabbed his wrist.

“No, I want you,” reaching behind yourself to search for his waistband. To get your point across, you turned around to face him and started to stroke him over the material of his briefs. “Please - let me.”

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, nodding. He gulped when you reached your hand into his briefs and wrapped your fingers around his cock. “I won’t last long though.”

“Good.”

----------

Later that night, Harry took you to your favourite restaurant to celebrate your actual birthday.

Your favourite restaurant was a small taco joint that had shrimp tacos you claimed were “the best you ever had”. And although it wasn’t the fancy birthday dinner he had in mind, the excitement written across your face over these damn tacos was an indication that it was exactly what you wanted.

Plus, they had a vegan mushroom taco and a killer margarita that he really enjoyed.

As he saw the server make his way toward your table with your order, he decided it was the right time to give you your gift. He felt around his coat pockets, searching for the envelope that held your surprise.

When he found it, he held it out to you, and you looked like you might kill him. He loved that look. The way your eyebrows furrowed and your lips parted slightly in disbelief. He’d take that look every day for the rest of his life if you let him.

“Harry, what is this?” You asked, taking the envelope while your server placed your tacos in front of you.

“Birthday gift.” He nodded to the server in gratitude and took a sip of his margarita. “Ooh, that’s a bit strong,” he winced.

“Harry.”

“If yours is this strong you might not make it to work in the morning.”

“Harry!”

“What!” He held his hands up, feigning innocence. He loved seeing you riled up like this. The way you got a bit flustered and your voice got a bit higher. He imagined that if he were to feel your face, your cheeks would be hot.

“Hasn’t there been enough gifts? You’ve been spoiling me all week… There can't possibly be more.”

“Well there is.” He watched while you examined the envelope with trepidation.

He was conscious about not making you uncomfortable, so he picked up one of his tacos and preoccupied himself while you opened the envelope.

“Are you kidding me?”

When he looked up at you, your face had softened. No longer looking like you wanted to kill him, instead you looked at him with nothing but admiration.

He changed his mind: That was the look he wanted to see for the rest of his life.

“Think you could take the time off work?” He asked, resting his hand on the back of your neck.

“I think so.” You nodded, turning your attention back to the contents of the envelope.

Although he traveled a lot with you on tour, he never felt like the two of you were really on vacation. You were always bouncing around from city to city. He spent his days at the venues and working out and then went to bed early every night after a show. He never got to show you his favourite places, or be with you while you discovered yours. He never got to take you out for late-night dinner and dancing or indulge in too many drinks and stumble down foreign streets hand-in-hand.

When he told you about his time in Japan and how much he loved it, you told him how badly you wanted to visit there one day.

As soon as you said that, he started building this fantasy, a daydream, in his mind of what it would be like to spend time with you in Japan. He knew you wouldn’t accept a free trip from him without some kind of reason or occasion. So your birthday was the perfect opportunity.

He watched as you continued to look over the plane tickets and AirBnB itinerary, no longer hiding your excitement. When you looked up, your eyes were glossy and he felt his heart grow twice its size.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I feel like I’ve been saying thank you so much all week but I really do mean it.”

You grabbed his hand and leaned in for a kiss.

“No, thank you. I would give you more if you let me,” he responded, meeting your mouth halfway. “You deserve it.”

Friday

“Harry Edward Styles, my birthday is OVER!”

“What ‘re you on about? We do this every Friday night.”

“We do NOT do it like this.”

“Well I’ve got to make it a bit more special haven't I? Since it’s birthday week?”

You huffed in frustration and marched yourself up the stairs. Annoyed, you removed your work clothes and swapped them for a pair of sweatpants and one of Harry’s t-shirts.

“What would you like to drink?” He called out from downstairs.

“Nothing!” You yelled back.

“That’s not very fun!”

You were afraid that if you rolled your eyes any harder they might stay that way permanently.

Soon after, he appeared in the doorway of your bedroom. He approached you from behind cautiously, wrapping his arms around your waist while you removed your makeup with a washcloth.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “It’s just a movie.”

You turned around to face him, and let out a sigh when you saw the look of concern on his face. You felt terrible.

“You must think I’m the most ungrateful hag you’ve ever met.”

He buried his face into your neck. “I don’t. I know it’s been a lot. Maybe a bit much.”

“My boyfriend is literally the sweetest man on the planet and I’m complaining.”

“You’re hardly complaining.”

“You defending me right now is just proving how awful I am and how wonderful you are.” You tried to pull away but he tightened his grip on you.

“Let’s say it’s just a regular Friday movie night. No more birthday week.” You eyed him suspiciously. “The stuff I set up down there was just ‘cause I was bored.”

You scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m being serious! I don’t want you to be upset.”

“Harry.”

“Darling.”

You wondered why you couldn’t just say thank you. Why was it so hard for you to just accept the kind gesture?

“I’m not upset,” you reached up to cradle his face in your hands. “I’m just terrible at accepting gifts, apparently.”

He leaned into your touch and placed a small kiss in the palm of your hand.

You sighed, “C’mon, let’s go.”

He trailed behind you as you headed down the stairs and into the cozy oasis he’d built in your living room. Blankets and pillows were all carefully arranged on the floor, bed sheets were draped between the furniture to form makeshift walls and ceilings, with strings of fairy lights scattered around the room. There were bowls filled with your favourite candies and salty snacks, and the title of your favourite movie was queued up on the television, waiting for you to press play.

“Can we fool around a bit too?” Harry asked cheekily, poking at your sides like a pest. There was a giddiness and almost childish delight in the way he was excited to play in the blanket fort he’d built.

“Yes-” You turned and pointed a finger at him. “But you have to promise me that after the party tomorrow night you won’t mention my birthday again till next year. Or maybe even the year after.”

He chuckled, pulling you down into a mountain of pillows with him.

“I promise.”

Saturday

It was absurd to you that on a morning when you didn’t have to go to work, Harry was nowhere to be found.

Of course, you slept in a little later than usual. Your body and mind needed to recover after a long week. But of all the days, logically, today would have been the best day to spend wrapped around each other in bed.

You knew he must have gone out because you didn’t hear him puttering around downstairs. It was a chance to have a slow and easy morning. You took your time getting out of bed and stayed in your pajamas while you lazily brewed yourself a coffee.

The sun was shining so you spent the morning outside on the deck with your coffee and some fruit. You were relaxed and happy, reading a novel you’d been dying to read, and enjoying the quiet sounds of your neighbourhood. A niggling part of your brain thought that maybe Harry had planned all this too. Perhaps he knew you needed a moment to chill with yourself and took off for the morning.

It wouldn’t have surprised you if he did.

Shortly before lunch time, Harry walked through the doors with arms full of grocery bags.

“Hiya babe.” He kissed you on the cheek and set his bags on the kitchen counter. “How’s your mornin’?”

“It was very nice, actually. Missed you though.” You observed him while he pulled all sorts of random food items, bottles of wine, and decorations out of his bags. “What’s all this, H?”

“‘It’s just stuff for tonight.” For some reason you’d woken up this morning and forgot a party was being thrown in your honour.

“Oh right… Do you need me to help with anything?”

“Hmm,” he shook his head. “Nope. Jeff’’ll be over shortly to help set up.”

“Set up? Harry, this is going to be a small party, right?”

He rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance. “Yes, don't worry - it will be small in size. But big in fun.”

You snorted. “You are such a loser.”

“A sexy loser though, right?” It was your turn to roll your eyes.

“So… You really don’t need me to do anything?”

“Nope. You should just go watch netflix, or read a book or something.” He shooed you away.

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

He just shrugged.

“Fine,” you walked out of the kitchen, amused. But not before he swatted your bum on the way out.

----------

Your friends started showing up around dinner time.

As much as you resisted the birthday celebrations, you were actually quite excited to have them over. What with your job and the touring you’d been doing with Harry, you hadn’t seen a lot of your friends lately.

“So, did H get you anything good for your birthday?” Your best friend asked.

“He spoiled me the entire week.” You signaled to the necklace on your neck and told her about your upcoming trip to Japan. “He was really sweet. A thoughtful gesture or gift every day.”

The group you were standing with swooned over the piece of jewelry and pride swelled in your chest when you told them about everything Harry did throughout the week.

He was also the perfect host. He made burgers (meat and vegetarian options) on the barbecue, kept everyone’s drinks refreshed and made sure the snacks were fully stocked. Of course he did some mingling himself, both with his own friends he invited, but with yours too. You loved the way he always got along with everyone, he was a ray of sunshine in every room he walked into.

Harry was also mindful of giving you space to mingle with all your guests, only checking on you every so often to make sure you had a drink in your hand.

While the conversation among your group pivoted to other things, your eyes scanned the expanse of the yard in search of him. You found him standing near the barbecue engrossed in a conversation with Jeff and one of your close friends from college. He looked handsome as ever, dressed casually in a pair of brown corduroy shorts, his ‘apollo eleven’ tee, and a light orange cardigan.

Jeff was babbling on about something when Harry’s attention drifted in your direction. The two of you made eye contact, a dimple appearing in his left cheek.

“Hi,” he mouthed from a distance. “Alright?”

You nodded with a silent “I love you”, before turning your attention back to your friends.

Later, the party was starting to wind down and you were at the front door, bidding goodbye to some folks. As your best friend was preparing to leave, she hugged you tightly and whispered in your ear, “call me tomorrow with all the details.” You were both rather tipsy, but you assumed she wanted the dirty details of your birthday week.

Afterward, you headed back outside to find Harry and the remaining guests seated around the patio table playing a card game. You climbed onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Y’alright?” He asked.

“Mmhmm. Thank you for the party.”

“Tipsy?”

“And tired.”

“Want me to kick everyone out?” He said quietly, so no one else could hear.

You looked around the table to see some of your friends looking tired as well. One looked like she was passed out with her head rested on her boyfriends shoulder. Glenne was sat beside them and you caught her yawning.

When you looked at your watch it read, 1:30 AM. At this age, none of you could party like you used to.

“Nah, I think we’re old enough that everyone here will be leaving on their own shortly. ‘S past all our bed times.”

And you were right, less than a couple minutes later, you heard the first “Well, I think it’s time to call it a night.” And everyone else followed suit.

Once the last guest was out the door, you turned to Harry and wrapped your arms around him. His hand went straight to your hair, soothing the back of your head.

“Can we clean up in the morning?” You asked, your words muffled against his chest.

“Good idea, let’s get to bed.”

Sunday

Now that “birthday week” was over, you were determined to turn things around and be as giving and thoughtful toward Harry as he was with you this past week.

Despite the slight hangover after last night's festivities, you made sure to wake up before him to prepare breakfast in bed.

Just as you sat up, Harry flung his arm around you and pulled you back into him.

“Where d’you think you’re goin’?” He muttered into your shoulder. You squirmed in his hold and he tightened his grip. “Stay in bed w’ me.”

You relaxed, with your back pressed against his chest. His arms were wrapped around you, and he grabbed your left hand with his and intertwined your fingers.

“Do you know how much I love you?” He asked, and you nodded. You craned your head back, silently asking him to meet your lips with his.

“You did an amazing job at showing me this week. “

“What I did this week is only a fraction of the love I have for you… Want to celebrate you forever.”

As much as birthdays made you anxious, the thought of always spending them with him had a special feeling blooming in your chest.

“Mmmm, only if you give me a chance to celebrate you too.”

He rested his chin on the top of your head and you closed your eyes, basking in the bliss of the sunshine radiating from the window and the warmth of the body wrapped around yours.

“Don’t be upset, but I have something else for you…”

“Harry…” You whined. “I thought birthday week was over.”

He chuckled, “It is, I promise.”

Keeping your left hands tangled together, he reached with his right arm toward the bedside table, opening the drawer and pulling something out.

“I know this week was a bit much -”

You interrupted him, “No, it was perfect, H. You’re perfect.” He squeezed your hand.

“I want to spend all your birthdays with you. All of ‘em. Will you let me?” he whispered. That’s when he held a small box in front of you. You were in shock when he opened the box and inside sat an intricate gold banded diamond ring that glinted in the sunlight.

“Marry me.”

----------

LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK :)

#my writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff

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brother-emperors · 4 months

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for enjoyers of rome and comics:

Les Aigles de Rome (The Eagles of Rome) by Enrico Marini is set in first century CE Rome and it’s a fucking visual and narrative delight. It’s like taking a bite of a delicious meal, the story arc and interpersonal character drama combined with the density of life in the backgrounds makes each page a fantastic time.

Dead Romans by Fred Kennedy & Nick Marinkovich. Also set in the early Roman Empire! My feelings for this one are a little more complicated, but it there’s a sort of Hollywood movie appeal to the plot, and the illustrative work of the comic is stunning, a visual feast for the eyes and worth checking out for that alone.

Cléopâtre, la reine fatale by Thierry Gloris & Joël Mouclier. Dramatic spectacle, drama, delicious visuals, and I'm kind of obsessed with the visual tone of it. The character interactions and snapshot glimpses into the interlocking relationships everyone has are honestly a high point for me with this one.

#i meant to do this like. oof. last year. anyway! comics. behold. there you go #mark antony in the cleopatra comic is fun. brutus is having an existential crisis and antony's like cool. i could blow you if you'd like #rec tag #book club tag #i may or may not lock this post from reblogs so if i do. the tag is book club tag for recs. as a future reference

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spicerackofblorbos · 2 months

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Chasing Waterfalls | Toge Inumaki x gn!Reader

☾ summary ➼ Toge takes you out on a surprise date.

☾ content/warnings ➼ fluff, canon world, toge talking in his specific language, established relationship

☾ wc ➼ 1.4k

☾ a/n ➼ this was a little fic I wrote for my friend Eri (as well as the 9 panel moodboard) a while back and she has given me permission to share it with y'all!! Toge is so baby :3

The wet mud underneath your boots squelches as you try your best to keep up with Toge. He's a good yard away, his back turned to you so that all you see is his backpack and blonde hair. You can't blame him though, it's not his fault that you're lagging. The scenery was just too stunning to not take your time.

Late morning sun rays filter through the green leaves above offering just the perfect touch of warmth that balances out the cool floor of the forest. You pull out your phone to take a snapshot of the leafy canopy and when you're satisfied, you look over to see purple eyes watching you curiously.

“I'm sorry, it's just really pretty out here. How much farther do you think we have till your mysterious destination?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Tsunamayo onigiri.” He responds, pointing behind him.

“Oh, that's not bad. I'm right behind you.” You smile up at him as you adjust the backpack on your shoulders.

Toge woke you up early today with wide eyes and an even wider smile. For once, you both had an off day, and he was adamant that you two take advantage of it. He didn't tell you where he was taking you, only that you needed to pack a bag and wear clothes appropriate for a hike. What you didn't expect was to be taken a few hours from the city and up to some forest hiking trails. Not like you were complaining though, you loved being out in the crisp air.

Eventually, Toge stops at a clearing surrounded by tall trees. The sounds of rushing water and birdsong continue as you stare over at him with furrowed brows. There wasn't much here in the empty space and based on the information he gave; this wasn't meant to be a camping trip.

“Toge? Are we here?”

“Shake.” He nods.

Your eyes scan the area in case you missed something. The only thing you see are the same trees and leave speckled ground.

“Um.”

He turns back around and marches to the back of the clearing before using an arm and pulling some branches up to show a little dirt path. You can't see anything past that as the sunshine peeks through, obscuring everything.

“Sujiko.” He beckons you with a hand, a small smile on his lips as he calls you forward.

With a nervous sigh, you step forward and walk through the leafy archway. Instantly, your breath is taken away as your eyes adjust to the change in scenery. The two-hour hike was absolutely worth it.

The sound of rushing water makes sense now as you watch crystal clear water cascade from rocks high above. The water splashes into a pool that is just as clear, the mist from the impact rising into the air and creating beautiful rainbows as the sun hits just right. Surrounding you are dense trees, ensuring maximum privacy for whoever stumbles upon this little oasis.

“Toge Inumaki, how the hell did you find this?” You twist around to see your blushy boyfriend rub the back of his neck.

“Tsunamayo. Takana?”

“It's great, I love it. Are we having lunch here?” You point to the ground, a smile gracing your lips. He only nods back as he pulls his backpack off and starts digging around in it. Despite how small it looks on the outside, he takes out more than you expected.

A large blanket comes out first, then a container of what you suspect must be onigiri – stuffed with the best fillings you can only assume. A smaller container stuffed full of gyoza follows. Then comes a bottle of clear soda and two cups. You wonder when he had time to get all of this made.

It doesn't take long for the both of you to demolish the delicious lunch Toge provided and before you know it, you're resting your head on his lap as you stare over at the waterfall in a daze. The sun had moved quite a bit since you both settled down, but the same birds chirping above remained the same. You swear you could fall asleep right here, but you know you'd have to leave soon if you were to make it back to campus on time.

“Sujiko? Takana?” His long fingers brush down your cheek before nudging your face to look up at him. Concern laces his violet eyes as he stares down at you, a small frown directed at you.

“I'm wonderful. This whole thing has been wonderful, silly. I could stay here forever with you if I could.” You reach up to poke his face as you give him a reassuring smile.

“Tsuna tsuna mayo.” he says as he gently pushes you off to stand up. It's your turn to frown as you stare up at him from his feet. He reaches down to help you up which you do so hesitantly.

“Do we have to go now?” It comes out whinier than you hoped, but he laughs anyways.

“Okaka. Tsuna.” There's a slight blush across his cheeks. And you watch as he carefully pulls his shoes off before tugging his shirt off, showing his bare chest. Instantly, a flood of heat goes straight to your face.

“Here? Toge, I don't know about that.” Your eyes scan the muddy ground, anxiety bubbling in your chest.

“Kastuobushi! Onigiri sujiko.” Despite the red that tints his pallid skin, he laughs as he points to the water. You sigh in relief, only to be filled with nervousness yet again.

“Toge, no that's too cold!” You wrap your arms around you in a show of how even in the clothes you're in, you're still chilled.

“Tsuna mayo.” He says as he shrugs before pushing down his pants. He's only in his boxers at this point but you don't have time to focus on it as long as you’d like because he rushes past you and dives straight into the cool water.

For the next minute, all you hear is the rustling of leaves above and water hitting the surface of the pool. You start to get worried if he went into shock at how cold it was and before you know it, you're stripping down to your undershirt and underwear.

When your feet hit the water first, you can't stop the loud gasp that escapes your lips. It is indeed cold. Not freezing of course, but cold enough that you want to scream. But your boyfriend was more important and with him in your mind, you dive straight in after him.

You don't stay under for long as the air is instantly pulled out of your lungs and the iciness that surrounds you. The moment you break the surface, you do your best to take deep, slow breaths – a technique you saw on the internet that helps your body not go into shock. When you're able to get a feel of your body, you look around. Toge isn't anywhere to be seen and a different kind of panic surges through you.

“Toge?! Toge!” You whip around to scan your surroundings. You almost miss it, the boy with blonde hair and bright eyes watching you in amusement from the veil of the waterfall. He's laughing.

“You asshole, you scared the shit out of me!” You frown as you wade over to him. You feel cold water raining on you as you get closer, having to shield your eyes from the projectiles with your hand.

“Tsuna.” He chuckles as he makes his way down to you, making the shield you made with your hand all but worthless. Before you’re able to lower your arm, you feel Toge's hands grasp your waist and pull you into him. His warmth is inviting so you don't hesitate to cling onto him.

You must admit that the water is extremely refreshing after such a long hike. The cold has woken you up as well, though you suspect it's more from the adrenaline. As your feet kick below the surface, you finally feel your body temperature level out.

“Takana?”

“Yeah, I'll be fine. Just don't scare me like that again, dummy.”

“Tsunamayo.” His fingers make their way to your chin, and he tips it up so you're looking him in the eye. “Tsuna.”

“Yeah, yeah. I forgive you.” He squeezes your chin gently, pursing his lips. “Yes, I love you too.”

He pulls you closer until his soft and warm lips meet yours. His kisses are ever so sweet, just as he is. Your thoughts from earlier don't change, you wish you could stay here with him forever.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #toge inumaki #toge inumaki x reader #toge x reader #x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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aaizawashouta · 9 months

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Welcome Home

pairing: jiraiya x fem!reader

word count: 2.3k

summary: you're there every time to welcome him home, until the one time you're not.

warnings: smut (18+ minors dni) fingering, p in v, cream pie

Touch and go is how your relationship has always been. You’ve never complained. Always welcoming him home with open arms, ears eager to hear of his travels. The closer he gets back to Konoha the more he can taste your perfume—hints of honey and coconut twirling on his tongue. He’s been gone longer than usual this time. It’s made him antsy. His hands twitch at his side as he walks through the village. He feels almost desperate to get home, something that’s never happened before.

He’s never taken advantage of you, never sought you out for only pleasure. He’s never talked about his feelings, so sure that you understood. Given, you’ve never talked about your feelings either. Jiraiya, the fool that he is, thought all was well. Except for the fact that you aren’t there when he gets home. From the looks of it, you haven’t been there for a while. It’s okay. It’s okay. Everything is fine. He’ll find you eventually.

Everything is not fine. It’s not okay. He’s losing his damned mind trying to find you. It’s been two days. Where could you possibly be? That’s when he sees him. Jiraiya’s eyes narrow as he tracks him, walking along the village without a care in the world, nose shoved deep into the book he’s emerged himself in. It’s not long before he’s caught up with Kakashi. They walk along in silence for a while, Jiraiya’s hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, impatience washing over him.

Finally, Kakashi sighs, dropping his arm. One eye lifting to meet the agitated gaze of the sannin. “Good to see you, Jiraiya.”

“Kakashi,”

“You haven’t talked to her?”

Jiraiya’s eye twitches. “I can’t find her.”

Kakashi hums. “She’s not back from the mission, then.”

It was like a bomb had been dropped on him. Everything he thought he knew about you was wrong. But he’s to blame. He’s the one constantly leaving. He’s the one who keeps you at arms length. If he wanted to know, he’d ask. A lump of uncertainty forms in Jiraiya’s throat. He’s not a fan of the feeling. He doesn’t like you being gone. A shinobi? You’re more amazing than he’d thought, and it irks him. He’s an idiot. The two of you have been at this for, well, years, and he honestly thought that you were a civilian whose whole world revolved around him. He doesn’t say anything to Kakashi. He’s defeated by you and you aren’t even here to witness it.

“You really don’t have a clue, do you?” Jiraiya stares at him, making Kakashi sigh. “Follow me.”

Kakashi isn’t sure why he has the photo to begin with, but he’s glad he has it. Probably something of Naruto’s that he has for safe keeping. He finds it in a stack next to his bedroom dresser. He smiles at the photo before handing it over to the older man.

The two of you are standing together, Jiraiya’s arm thrown over your shoulders holding you tightly to him. His head is tossed back in a boisterous laugh, you can almost hear it echoing from the memory. You’ve got your arm around his waist, body completely molded to him as you watch him. Doe eyes looking up, lips parted in a small lovestruck smile. It’s a snapshot of the pure adoration and love you hold for him.

It’s not something you hide. It’s not a secret by any means. But gods, is Jiraiya seeing it for the very first time.

It’s early when you get home. Eyes burning from lack of sleep, dirt under your nails and in your hair. A nice hot shower is calling your name. It takes you three tries to unlock the door. So set on getting to the shower, you miss the hints of another presence in your home completely. Tearing off your vest while pulling your shoes off along the way, leaving the clothes scattered on the floor on your way to the bathroom. You come to a stop when you see your bedroom door open.

Now you’ve been gone for a month or so, but you do the same routine every time. Every door is shut when you leave. Every time. But the bedroom door is open. Biting your cheek, you move down the hallway to see that the bathroom door is open as well. Why? Who's been in your house? Are they still here? You freeze, senses running wild. If they were still here, they wouldn’t make it far.

The faintest sound of scratching reaches your ears. What, is there a rat in your house? As silent as you can, you follow the sounds. Leading to your bedroom, you slightly push the door open, a flurry of emotions overcoming you. Sitting at the desk is Jiraiya, bent over slightly as he pen scratches at the paper. No doubt furiously writing away for the next installment of his books. Stepping into the room you make your way to him, throwing your arms around his shoulders. He’s solid against you, the warmth of him seeping into you. You nuzzle your face in between his shoulders, more than happy to be home. Happy to finally have him home.

“Hey, kid,” he says with a laugh.

“Hey yourself. Missed you.”

His whole body relaxes at your words. Silently he turns, pulling you in closer until you’re seated on his lap. Thick fingers tangle up into the roots of your hair, angling you just so. You can’t help the moan when his lips meet yours. You aren’t sure how long he had been gone this time around. Only that it was too long and you didn’t like it. Normally you could get missions completed between the times he comes and goes. This had been rough.

“Missed your old man, did ya?”

You can’t help but snicker. “My old man?”

“Well I don’t belong to anyone else do I?” His lips trail up your neck, teasing at your ear. “I missed you too, kid.”

His hands release your hair, only to grip your face, thumbs running softly against your cheekbones. You’re doe eyed as you stare up at him. He hums as he stares back, so lovestruck it blindsides you.

“I love you.”

“Jiraiya,” The words make your heart stop. You never thought you’d hear them, and you’ve always been okay with that.

He doesn’t give you a moment to respond. “Let me show you.”

He stands, your legs instantly wrapping around his waist as he walks over to your shared bed. Your hands roam his body as he pulls off his own clothes. His tongue drags across your fluttering pulse, and when he sucks your skin hard enough to leave a bruise, your fingers splayed open on his broad shoulders, digging into the taut muscle that flexes as he draws you closer. Calloused hands pull at your shirt, the cool morning air drawing your nipples taunt.

His hands slide down your back, holding you close as he leans forward and lays you down on the sea of blankets. You’ve been together too long for you to be embarrassed by the whimper of a moan that escapes you when his teeth tug harder on your nipple before laving the ache with his tongue while his hand palms your other breast, playing mercilessly with the nipple until your back is arching off the mattress, eyes rolling back.

His hand falls away from your breast, and you nearly squeak in indignation until the feel of his calloused fingers slides between your thighs. Fingers dig into the stretchy material of your shorts, your own hands trailing down to free your body of the material. Jiraiya groans, watching you.

“I knew you weren’t wearing any panties.”

“Never do.”

You’ve never given it much thought, but if you had to imagine heaven, this would be it. A sunlit morning, tangled sheets, gentle words, rough hands. An endless loop of intimate moments, of vulnerable confessions, of whispered promises, of sex so intense your mind fractures and pieces itself back together. Your souls touch, they echo across countless lifetimes.

Jiraiya’s thumb teases your clit, rubbing slow, torturous circles that make your legs spasm every time the callous on the side of his thumb grazes the bud of nerves, lighting up every nerve ending in your body like a firework show.

You attempt to tug him closer, to shift your hips forward, to add more pressure, to silently ask him to go faster. Gods, please go faster. But he doesn't oblige. Rather, he pulls your hands off his body and locks them into an inescapable hold above your head, pinned against the pillows — a silent demand to not rush him, to let him take his time. A silent promise to make it worth your while.

When his thumb finds your clit again it's an even softer touch — a whisper rather than steady contact. And somehow, somehow that barely there touch, that torturously reserved brush of his thumb has your eyes flying wide and your back arching off the bed so intensely your breath lodges in your throat.

You tug, trying to get your wrists free, the demand to pull him closer nearly short-circuiting your brain, but his hold on them doesn't budge.

"Mmm, how do you want to come, pretty?" He hums against your skin, biting down on the hickey he's leaving on the swell of your breast before moving his attention to the other one. His thumb keeps a teasing pace on your clit, giving you more pressure and easing off just when the pressure in your lower belly begins to build.

Up, up, up and then gone.

So close, so so close, and then poof.

Gone.

His tongue drags across your nipple before he pulls back and blows a cool breath of air across the glistening nerves, sending a rush of goosebumps across your entire body.

His thumb adds a little more pressure, a little more friction, and you’re sure you might cry. You might actually cry. It feels so good.

Your entire body is tense, nearly about to hit that peak when he pulls his thumb away again.

Your head slams back against the bed, frustration flooding your veins. Your orgasm is trying to break free, to claw its way out of you. Like water receding from the shore before a tsunami, the air in your lungs is gone, the control over your shaking legs, your shaking arms, your shaking hands — towed away from you.

He sucks on your nipple hard enough to fling white dots over your vision like confetti, and even now, you can feel the haughty smile tugging at his lips as he pulls back to watch you writhe under him because he knows, he knows you're too far gone to answer him.

"Like this?" he slides a finger into you and you nearly shatter. Nearly, nearly, nearly. Please.

You can't breathe. You can't think. You can't respond. You shake your head and tug your wrists feebly. You want him. You want him.

He adds another finger and you moan so loud it echoes back to you.

He curses, pulls his fingers away, and as you nearly break into hysterics at the loss of contact, at the loss of the climax that was so close you could nearly taste the endorphins on your tongue, he releases your wrists and wraps your legs around his hips.

"No. No sweet girl, you're going to come with my cock buried deep in your pretty pussy." His words are a promise against your ear and finally, finally he thrusts into you as he murmurs against your lips. "Come on my cock, kid. Let me see how fucking gorgeous you are when you come on my cock. Let me know how much you really missed me."

It's instantaneous. The tsunami hits with the first thrust of his hips and your throat burns with the scream that rips through your room. It's nearly a sob — a sob of relief, a sob of ecstasy, a sob of pure pleasure.

Every nerve in your body is a live wire, lighting up with the kind of mind numbing sensation that pulls you down so deep you can't process anything other than the feel of the waves. Like you’re just under the surface of the ocean, being pulled along with each rise and crash of the tide.

And then you blink and see the brilliant sunlight coaxing you back toward the surface, back to the air, back to reality. And it's only when you break the surface and your lungs unfreeze, helplessly tasting your first breath of air since they froze in your chest, that you realize the sun has been shrouded by a passing storm cloud, and the light, that brilliant light that brought you back is still here, radiating from the man on top of you. His face is nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his hips reaching a crescendo that sends another aftershock of pleasure flooding up your spine and he buries himself deep inside of you and stills, the heat of his climax pulsing inside of you, sliding down your thighs.

The room is silent other than your heavy breathing. Your fingers card through his hair, his lips grazing your collarbones. It’s only when your breathing steadies and your body completely relaxes that Jiraiya scoops you up and heads into the shower.

I love you. He whispers the words again and again as he washes you. Lips pressed against your skin as if he can force his love into you. Your heart soars. Tucked into bed, eyes droopy from exhaustion, Jiraiya hands over the photo. You can feel his gaze taking you in as you run your finger lightly over his laughing face, not even concerned about yourself. He presses a kiss against your temple, mouthing the words with a ghost of a smile.

“I love you too.”

And you don’t know where you’ll go from here. If your path will continue to entwine with his. You do know your heart will never belong to another. He’s opening himself up, learning, and he’s doing it all for you.

#jiraiya x reader #Jiraiya x you #jiraiya one shot #jiraiya smut #jiraiya fanfiction #Naruto fanfiction

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onathinker · 3 months

Text

masterlist 🔞🤍

*note: i only write player x player. no player x reader here, sorry!*

find me on ao3

published works:

a note heard in heaven (ona/lucy, teasing & dry humping smut, 2.7k words)

starry eyes sparking up my darkest night (ona/lucy, jersey wearing smut & slight hurt/comfort, 5.6k words)

don't turn away, i'm still awake (ona/lucy, fluffy facetime sex & praise kink, 3.2k words)

bittersweet sixteen suddenly (ona/lucy, getting together fluff, 1.4k words)

carve your name into my bedpost (ona/lucy, foreplay & dirty talk, 1.3k words)

fic recs

wip snippets

requests *note: i won't be churning out fics for every single request, but if you rq something that i've already been working on/if inspiration really strikes, i will move it up on my list of priorities*

wips: (*these will go out very slowly so feel free to ask questions*):

ona/lucy:

untitled 30k~ fic - fwb to lovers. smut, fluff, angst, anything you can think of. timeline spans first half of 2023 with flashbacks to dec 2022. due: april at the earliest -- no promises!

change me at all costs / dom/top ona smut - ona straps up. getting my whipped bottom lucy agenda underway

born for loving you / domestic bliss fluff - lucy finally comes home to ona after a trip. inspired by lucy's breakfast ig story

all i get is wild thoughts / "tank top fic" - smut. bit of clothes sharing. tw brief discussion of body image (*might take out*)

surprise visit hurt/comfort - lucy surprises ona in manchester when she’s having a tough week. early relationship vibes

me pone cachonda, me pone mal / "papi fic" - smut smut smut

she likes a boy - solo ona coming of age/coming out character study

necklace fic - london trip gift giving fluff (*not the smiley face necklace sorry*)

untitled hurt/comfort - post-benfica draw hurt/comfort

untitled pool sex - short & sweet vacation smut. pretty much written but will come out when the weather is warmer to set the ~atmosphere~ lol

you should find another guiding light - snapshots from euros through lucy stan’s wedding ft. lucy/keira & feli/ona (includes hen party hookup) (*may be split into two fics/parts*)

i can only love you more - smut. jealous lucy after barca xmas dinner

eternal sunshine of the spotless mind au - post-breakup future angst

others:

jenni/alexia angst with background ona/lucy

patri/pina/cata throuple fic - slice of life/fluff

[last updated may 13]

#mine #woso smut #woso fanfics #masterlist #lucy bronze x ona batlle

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sin-djarin · 5 months

Text

in reality

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x gn!reader

Rating: Explicit. MDNI. This blog and its contents are 18+.

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: Dieter comes home for Christmas.

Warnings: Established relationship, masturbation (M), Dieter's self deprecation, no physical description of reader, no use of y/n.

A/N: Written on a phone with c*v*d brain. Please excuse brevity and typos.

in fiction for context.

Delayed.

Again.

Dieter’s fingers rake back and forth through the patchy whiskers on his chin as he stares up at the departure board with aching, dry eyes. The terminal is swarming with irritable and restless passengers trying to get home in time for the holidays. The collective tension has completely eradicated any festive cheer that should be filling the air.

He closed the front door behind him to leave on a two week long press junket and he’s itched to get back home since he turned his key in the lock. All of it has fucked up his sleep pattern. Between waking up at stupid hours of the morning to give interviews for breakfast TV in far away continents and travelling, he doesn’t know if the darkness outside means that it's early or late anymore.

Dieter ran out of original things to say on day two. “I’m so excited.” he lied to reporters. By day seven he couldn’t fake enthusiasm any longer. And how could he? He was contacted to promote his film that was slated for release in January - the beginning of the Hollywood dump months.

He glances down at his phone. No one has answered his prayer for a miracle that would breathe life back into it. Its black screen is unresponsive still, leaving him disconnected from the world. And from you.

As his thumbnail absentmindedly picks at the oily mayonnaise stain on his patterned linen pants, he thinks of your face and the disappointment that he believes will be painted all over it when - if he arrives home.

All the stores in the airport have closed around him for the night. He can’t even buy you a shitty overpriced magnet or a phone charger. But maybe it’s for the best. He can’t be tempted into reading about his career that has been reduced to inches in the columns of glossy magazines. The ones that can never seem to decide to label him insane or the most charming man in the world.

A growing anxiety courses through his veins and his leg bounces uncontrollably. The dark sunglasses he wears indoors and the sleeves covering his tattoos have kept him mostly incognito. But he’s all too aware of the covert glances and attempted snapshots by people suddenly feigning interest in the mediocre artwork on the walls behind him. He imagines another clickbait headline if a photo of him in an airport makes the press: Dieter Bravo flies economy.

An announcement reverberates over the tannoy. The tinny voice tells him that the flight is overbooked on top of being delayed. The air steward offers a night at a chain hotel and a giftcard if someone will give up their seat. There’s no way that he’ll surrender his and he instantly dismisses the proposition. He needs to get home. He can’t spend another night by himself. Not for Christmas. He doesn’t want to fuck his fist again. He’s grown to dislike the feeling of it. He hates wishing that it was your tongue or your hand until his thighs quiver and he drives his shoulder blades deeper into the foreign mattress as he comes hot over his stomach and knuckles.

Hours pass and for the majority of them, he’s been berating himself that he should have charged his phone. That he shouldn’t have left his charger behind in the hotel. If he hadn’t done those things, he’d be able to hear your voice and reassure you that his flight is delayed. And not for the first time.

As he waits in torment, he toys with an empty KitKat wrapper, trying to distract himself from the fact that the delay is due to part of the plane needing to be repaired. He can't take a picture of it to send to you and tell you that they've started to put peanut butter in them and how it stuck to the roof of his mouth - the same spot where your name usually rests, ready to roll off his tongue. Instead, he runs his tongue over the sugary coating it's left on the enamel of his teeth and imagines the smile on your face at receiving another Dieter Bravo-esque message.

Finally, he boards the plane, grateful to be off the uncomfortable metal chair that made his lower back burn and into a cushioned aisle seat. The other passengers are as pissed off and exhausted as he is. Their muttering and sighing fill the cramped cabin as they poke at the small screens in front of them. Their fatigued faces contort with indecision as they rifle through the lackluster selection of films and TV shows. He silently hopes they don’t choose to indulge in a celebrity gossip programme - the last thing he needs is another segment of Bravo self-annihilation broadcasted for all to see.

Most passengers opt for Christmas movies to lift their waning spirits; The Grinch, Deck the Halls, Die Hard. If he makes it home on time, it’ll still be Christmas and maybe you can watch one together. It’ll be a respite from questioning why he’s never taken a role in one soaring 30,000 miles above ground. A small grin plays on his lips for the first time since in nearly 24 hours as he imagines himself as a modern day Hans Gruber, wreaking havoc in a remake.

The flight itself is turbulent. It causes the complimentary pretzels to churn in his gut. The sickly sweet smell of orange soda the hair hostess spilled in his hair and wooly sweater intensifies his nausea. Dieter has never been the world's best flier and his fingers dig into the spongy armrest as the DIY-ed aircraft rattles again, pleading for it to just get him to you safely.

Five wretched hours later and he’s inching closer to you. As he waits for his luggage to appear on the belt, he notices the bustling crowd carry out their usual “Will I? Won’t I?” routine as they contemplate approaching him for a selfie. He pushes the sunglasses further up his nose and hopes that he fades into the grumbling sea of people around him.

After enduring a queue for a cab, he’s closer still. The early morning traffic in the city seems to stretch the journey into eternity. His fingernails have almost rubbed the skin of his jawline raw. The car crawls past billboards advertising all things Christmas; food, gifts, discounts and then it hits him like a punch in the throat.

Dieter hasn’t gotten you a goddamn thing. Too absorbed in his self pity that he forgot. He didn't even take anything from the hotel that he could pass it off as a gift. He briefly considers asking the cab driver to make a detour to the mall but that would mean waiting for it to open.

Then his tired eyes settle on a roll of metallic snowflake patterned wrapping paper in the front passenger seat.

“Hey, buddy. Can I borrow that?” he asks, desperation dripping from his voice.

The driver laughs at him through the rearview mirror, shaking his head. “You gonna give it back?”

“I’ll give you a hundred dollars. You can buy fifty of them.” Dieter bargains.

“It’s all yours.”

Dieter pulls the roll into the back seat and starts tearing and folding the paper.

–

You’re woken with a start to the house alarm roaring. The sun has just begun to rise as you run down the hall to the top of the stairs with your heart slamming against your ribcage.

Your body shuts off your fight or flight response when your eyes land on him at the hall door, surrounded by his luggage and suit bags. A smile tugs at the corners of your lips. Dieter always has to make a grand entrance.

Before you fell asleep last night, you checked his flight details and saw that it was delayed. When your last message to him failed to deliver, you figured something happened to his phone. Usually he couldn’t go an hour without sending you an out of context photo of some random object or a dog in a sweater that he passed on the street.

The peachy morning sky behind him reflects off his bejeweled fingers that frantically bash the buttons to input the alarm code. The passport clenched between his teeth is suffering his frustration.

Eventually he gets it right and the high pitched shrieking of the alarm stops, leaving only your own racing heartbeat and his cursing audible. You tread down a few steps and his head whips around at the movement out of his peripheral.

The passport drops to his feet when his mouth falls open - like he can’t quite believe he’s made it home. Then he’s sprinting towards you, the rubber soles of his Crocs screech on the tiled marble floor under his feet. He climbs the carpeted stairs, almost on all fours to stop a few steps below you.

Dieter studies your face, his wide brown eyes search for the scowl he thinks he deserves - for a dead phone battery, endless delays, and a rude awakening. He doesn’t find it. Instead he’s met with relief and a gentle touch as you cup his cheeks. The pads of your thumbs smooth over the wiry mustache hairs that have grown too long over his upper lip.

Underneath the dark lenses of his glasses, his way of living has been etched onto his face but his eyes are still bright as they gaze back at you. His heavy head falls against your belly while your hands move to his unruly hair and your fingers catch in the sticky strands. A little groan of annoyance escapes him at the tugging but he sighs and melts further into you as your fingers massage his scalp and the heat of his breath warms your stomach in the cool morning air.

His tension dissipates underneath your fingertips, ridding his mind of any residual thoughts. You could ask him why his curls are clumped together but you don’t. He’ll tell you about it soon. In fact, he’ll act out the whole scene for you. He'll include all its fantastical twists and turns with sleep deprived enthusiasm and you’ll fill your lungs with his words.

Reluctantly pulling away from you, he rummages through the pockets of his pants. The jingle of his rings hitting off the loose change brings that welcome noise back into your life.

“Here.” Dieter says nervously, his Adam’s Apple bouncing in his throat as he presents you with a thick, rectangular piece of paper that’s a little torn at the edges. “For your books, you know?” You look down at your handmade bookmark and grin at his efforts, brushing your fingers over the glittery snowflake details. “And so we can pick up where we left off.” he says hopefully, shooting you that familiar crooked smile.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x gn!reader #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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fanficdelulus · 7 months

Text

New Beginnings

Fate (Gojo x Fem! Reader)

————————————————

Your heart raced as you put the final touches on your makeup, a mixture of excitement and confidence flooding your senses. You couldn't help but smirk as you glanced at your reflection in the mirror. Feeling undeniably sexy in your attire, you were ready for the night.

Ever since you made that heartfelt promise to Satoru, the two of you had grown closer than ever. It felt like you were practically attached at the hip, spending nearly every moment you could together. However, there was a subtle change in the air. Satoru was taking on more dangerous missions, his determination to keep you and those he cared about safe evident in his actions, adding an extra layer of tension to your already complex relationship.

In recent times, the hours you and Satoru could spend together had become increasingly rare. His growing involvement in more special grade missions seemed to leave little room for the moments that once filled your daily life.

Surprisingly, he showed up at your dorm one early morning. As you opened the door, your eyes half-closed from sleep, you were met with the sight of Satoru Gojo standing there, radiating his usual energy. You yawned, your disheveled hair a testament to your exhaustion. This was your first full weekend off in a long time, and you had been looking forward to catching up on much-needed rest.

"Mornin', [Name]," he greeted, his voice full of enthusiasm. With a half-smile, you nodded sleepily in response, silently wondering what brought him here. Satoru breezed into your room as if he owned the place, taking in the surroundings as he began to speak.

"What are your plans for this weekend?" Satoru's cheerful question filled the room. His gaze settled on one of his favorite pictures in your room, capturing a moment from a past summer festival. It was a picture of you wearing a traditional yukata alongside Shoko. You looked absolutely radiant in that photo, and it was on days like that you had a way of unknowingly stealing his heart. The intensity of his feelings welled up, although he didn't let it show on his charismatic smile.

Plopping back down on your bed with a long yawn, sleepy tears streamed down your cheeks. You tried to dry your eyes with the backs of your hands before grabbing the large teddy bear he'd won for you at said festival. You snuggled into its softness, momentarily forgetting about his question as your body relaxed into it. Satoru watched you with a mixture of affection and concern, realizing just how tired you were and wanting to make your weekend special.

As the weariness of your recent schedule finally took its toll, you couldn't fight off the lure of sleep any longer. Your eyelids drooped, and before you knew it, you had fallen asleep, your teddy bear cradled in your arms.

Satoru watched you for a moment, a fond and affectionate smile gracing his lips as he gazed at you. He took a mental snapshot of this moment, knowing that your well-deserved rest was essential. Just before leaving past the school gates he quickly sent you a reminder text for later that night, knowing that your hunger would wake you long before then.

Your lips puckered as you expertly applied the final coat of lip gloss, the subtle shimmer enhancing your natural beauty. Your golden hoops dangled, glistening in the light as you brushed a stray piece of hair behind your ear. You couldn't help but smile when you noticed the soft, familiar knocking at your door.

As you opened the door, your eyes immediately locked onto Satoru, who stood there in his casual yet undeniably attractive attire. Adorning a plain white tee, snug jeans, and a sleek leather jacket, he exuded a magnetic charm. Your gaze couldn't help but linger on his well-defined chest and shoulders, heart racing as you took in his appearance.

As you gazed at him, Satoru couldn't help but feel a rush of emotions. "Hey, [Name], tonight, it's not just about dinner. It's about... us. What do you say?" He winked playfully.

Your cheeks warmed, and you chuckled softly at Satoru's flirtatious nature. You knew him well, understanding that his playful side was part of his charm. As much as your feelings for him ran deep, you also treasured the friendship that had grown between you over the years. It was too precious to risk.

With a teasing smile, you replied, "Satoru, don't make it more than it is. We're just having dinner, right?" You hoped to keep things light, but your heart couldn't help but race a little at the thought of where this might lead.

Satoru flashed you a mischievous grin. "Dinner, dessert, AND a surprise," he emphasized, causing your curiosity to pique as you both headed toward the exit. You playfully nudged his side, teasing him, "Ohhh, you got it like that tonight, huh?" Your eyes held a glint of amusement as you watched him closely. His actions were definitely intriguing.

As the two of you approached a dark red Lexus coupe parked nearby, you couldn't help but make a playful comment, "Whose car did you steal?" Your surprise grew as he opened the car door for you. With a hint of pride, he responded, "No one's, it's mine." Your brows shot up in disbelief. "You're kidding, we're eighteen, how can you afford it?"

Satoru chuckled and slid into the driver's seat, then turned to you with a smug grin. "I am the head of the Gojo clan, remember." His tone held a mix of confidence and amusement, as if to say that being the head of such a prestigious clan had its perks.

You chuckled and continued, "I always forget, Satoru. It's because you don't act like some pompous jerk." Your eyes danced with amusement as you watched the world go by outside the car window. Satoru grinned, his signature playful glint in his eyes.

"Well, what's the fun in that? Life's too short to be serious all the time." He revved the car's engine, and you could feel the power beneath you as you sped down the highway. The anticipation of the evening ahead was mixed with the exhilaration of the fast ride, and it was shaping up to be a memorable night.

You couldn't resist the soothing rhythm of the car ride, and soon, the gentle sway of the vehicle lulled you into a peaceful nap. It was a testament to your trust in Satoru that you could sleep so soundly in his presence.

"Wake up, [Name]," Satoru's voice gently pulled you from your dreams. As you blinked awake, you were met with the most astonishing sight. The car had stopped at a secluded beach, softly illuminated by candles that danced with the sea breeze. A picnic dinner, arranged with professional elegance, was waiting for both of you.

The selection was a testament to his thoughtfulness, featuring your favorite dishes from around the world, including some from the United States. It was a tangible expression of how well he knew you, and your heart overflowed with gratitude and appreciation for the effort he had put into making this evening special.

The ocean waves whispered in the background, the sound soothing and serene as you both sat on the beach. Satoru's eyes danced with a warm, familiar affection as he watched you enjoy the meal he had arranged. Your healthy appetite only endeared you to him further.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the sands, Satoru's expression shifted to one of earnestness. He set aside his plate, turning to you with a soft smile. "You know, [Name], there are some things I've been meaning to tell you."

Your heart quickened, curiosity mingled with a touch of anxiety. "What is it, Satoru?" you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper.

He leaned in closer, his voice a gentle caress. "I've cherished our friendship for a long time. You mean a lot to me, more than I can express. I love you [Name] [Surname].” His eyes held yours, filled with sincerity and a depth of emotion that left your heart racing, the ocean's gentle lullaby echoing your feelings.

Your heart raced as Satoru's heartfelt confession hung in the air, the waves crashing in the background now harmonizing with the rhythm of your pulse. The connection you shared was precious, and his words had just revealed the depth of his emotions, igniting your own feelings.

"I... Satoru, I- I," you stammered, at a loss for words, your heart pounding against your chest, craving to reveal what was in your heart.

Satoru, ever understanding, reached out to take your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. "You don't have to say anything right now. I just needed you to know how I feel."

You continued your meal in a somewhat dazed state, the atmosphere between you subtly changed, charged with unspoken emotions. As the sun dipped lower in the sky, you couldn't resist your curiosity any longer.

"Satoru," you began, your voice soft and tentative, "you mentioned there was something else you wanted to talk about. What is it?"

The ocean seemed to hold its breath, as if it, too, awaited Satoru's answer to this unspoken question.

He hesitated for a moment, his expression more serious now. "It's about Toji's child."

As the sun dipped beneath the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, Satoru's words hung heavily in the dimming twilight, casting a weighty shadow over both of you.

"He had a child?" you inquired, your voice laced with surprise as the gravity of the situation settled upon you. Satoru nodded solemnly, his eyes reflecting a complex blend of sorrow, resolve, and responsibility. "Yes, a son. Toji confided in me that the child might be sold within the next two to three years. I can't stand by and let that happen. I feel a deep sense of responsibility for his well-being."

The revelation struck a chord within you, and the image of an innocent child being consigned to such a grim fate tugged at your heart, prompting tears to well up in your eyes.

His unwavering determination and resolute mission resonated deeply with you. It was more than a sense of duty; it was a calling born of empathy and compassion.

With your voice quivering yet resolute, you made a heartfelt offer. "Let's get married." The words carried the weight of your affection and your unyielding commitment to both Satoru and the cause he held so dear.

Satoru turned to you, his wide-eyed gaze reflecting a mix of astonishment, gratitude, and a hint of disbelief. "What?"

In the soft, fading light of the evening, your gaze bore into Satoru's, your eyes shimmering with an earnestness that mirrored the depth of your emotions. Your voice quivered with the sincerity of your feelings, and the words you spoke resonated with a profound truth.

"I love you, Satoru," you whispered, your voice a testament to the depth of your emotions. "More than anything in this world. Our lives as Jujutsu Sorcerers are unpredictable and fraught with danger, but I want to face that uncertainty with you, to live a life with no regrets, a life alongside you."

Tears welled up in your eyes, glistening with the unspoken weight of your affection. "I've always been ready to stand by your side," you continued, your voice unwavering, "to share in your burdens, and now, this. I can only imagine what that child has been through so far."

Your heartfelt confession hung in the air, creating a profound silence that enveloped the two of you. In that suspended moment, it was as if the rest of the world had faded into insignificance, leaving behind only the two of you and the profound connection that bound your hearts together.

Satoru's eyes locked onto yours, the weight of your love and determination reflected in that intense gaze. In this silent exchange of emotions, it was as if the world held its breath.

With a soft, sincere smile, he finally gave a nod. "Alright, then. Let's do this. Let's give that child a chance at a brighter future. And let's face whatever comes our way, together, with no regrets."

In that profound moment, the unspoken bond between you solidified, and you both knew that your lives were about to venture into uncharted territories. Challenges would come, but with the love and unwavering commitment you shared, you were ready to meet them head-on, hand in hand.

As the night deepened, you found yourselves wrapped in each other's arms, the world around you fading into obscurity. The tranquility of the beach, the gentle whisper of the ocean, and the warmth of Satoru's embrace created a cocoon of solace.

With each whispered promise, each tender touch, you felt the love between you grow stronger. The weight of Satoru's confession, the burden of caring for Toji's child, seemed less daunting in the glow of your love.

The world held its breath, as if honoring the connection you two shared on that serene beach. You whispered sweet nothings into the night, a symphony of love notes that would carry you into an uncertain but promising future.

Under the enchanting moonlit sky, with the gentle sound of the waves as your backdrop, Satoru leaned in, capturing your lips in a lingering kiss. It was a kiss filled with tenderness and deep affection, a promise of all the love that had grown between you. As your lips met, it felt as if the entire world had fallen away, leaving just the two of you in this serene, perfect moment.

The soft, warm touch of his lips sent shivers down your spine, igniting a passionate fire within your heart. You responded with equal fervor, savoring the exquisite taste of his kiss. It was a kiss that held all the unspoken words, all the emotions you'd ever felt for each other.

When you finally pulled away, your eyes locked in a loving gaze. In the depths of those eyes, you found the reassurance of a love that was as boundless as the sea and as eternal as the stars.

"I love you," Satoru whispered, his voice a gentle, cherished melody in the night.

Tears of joy welled up in your eyes as you replied, "I love you too." In that moment, under the vast canvas of the universe, you realized that your love was a force of nature, enduring and infinite, stronger than any challenge life could throw your way.

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Your eyes fluttered open to find Satoru's bare chest, his warmth and the memories of the passionate night before surrounding you like a cozy cocoon. As you stirred from your sleep, a contented sigh escaped your lips. The weight of last night's emotions and desires hung in the air, creating an electrifying tension between you.

The night had been filled with confessions of love, passion, and an overwhelming desire for each other. After Satoru had driven you to a luxurious hotel in Ginza, the room had become a sanctuary where your love for each other had bloomed in the most intimate of ways.

You couldn't help but trace your fingers gently across his skin, reliving the sensations of the night, when your love had reached new heights. In the soft morning light, you found yourself smiling, feeling grateful for the depth of connection you shared with the man whose arms held you so lovingly. It was a night that would forever bind you two together in a profound and passionate bond

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow on your soon-to-be husband's bright white locks. Satoru Gojo lay there, peacefully asleep, looking more serene than anyone could imagine, especially with his infinity turned off. In that quiet moment, a profound sense of gratitude welled up within you.

Before you was not just the legendary sorcerer, the strongest of them all, but the man you had fallen in love with, the one who had swept you off your feet with his cocky and playful demeanor. He was the reason you had found a new home in Japan, and the man you couldn't imagine living without.

His features softened in slumber, and you couldn't resist reaching out to trace your finger along his jawline, just to savor the intimacy of the moment. With a loving smile, you whispered, "I love you, Satoru," knowing that this was just the beginning of your journey together, as partners in life and love.

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Satoru's refined tastes were on full display as the two of you strolled through the upscale streets of Ginza, known for its high-end retailers. Eventually, you arrived at the first jewelry shop that had caught his discerning eye, and you were cordially ushered into a private showroom.

A gracious sales assistant handed you a glass of champagne, and as you hesitated, you whispered to Satoru, "I'm only eighteen, I can't drink this." He chuckled in amusement, his voice a warm caress. "Live a little and relax. Remember, life is too short." His fingers gently nudged you, reassuringly pulling you closer to his side.

With the glass in hand, you took a cautious sip of the champagne. Its taste was a delightful blend of fruity and tart flavors, and you savored it. As the sales associate began showcasing a dazzling array of diamonds, each more exquisite than the last, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. The exquisite jewelry seemed a world away from your life as a Jujutsu sorcerer. "Satoru," you chuckled sheepishly, "this isn't necessary."

He responded with that irresistible smile of his, a hint of mischief in his eyes. His fingers danced gracefully over the polished glass that held a particularly rare cut diamond. He brought it closer for your examination, the jewel catching the soft lighting of the showroom. "I know it might seem extravagant," he began, his voice low and soothing, "but I want you to have the best. I may not be able to change your past, but I can change your future, and you deserve it."

Your heart swelled at his words, and the diamonds before you seemed to pale in comparison to the sparkle in his eyes. It was a reminder of the profound love and care he held for you, beyond the grand gestures and lavish gifts.

Amidst the dazzling array of diamonds, your gaze was drawn to a simple 1.5-carat princess-cut gem. Its timeless elegance called out to you, and you couldn't resist trying on a similar ring. As it slid onto your finger, a wave of emotions washed over you.

You looked at your hand, marveling at the contrast between the cool, smooth gold band and the fiery brilliance of the diamond. It was more than just a piece of jewelry; it felt like a promise, a symbol of love, commitment, and the future you were eager to embrace with Satoru.

Satoru, too, admired the ring on your finger. "You've got great taste, [Name]," he said, his voice laced with affection. Then, he turned to the sales assistant. "She'll wear this one out of the store, and please show us some matching wedding bands."

The sales assistant nodded, a knowing smile on her face. As she fetched the matching wedding bands, you and Satoru looked at each other, and the significance of that simple piece of jewelry sunk in, bonding you together in a way that transcended the material itself.

The sales assistant nodded and brought forth a splendid selection of wedding bands, each a work of art in its own right. You tried on various options, each more exquisite than the last, and it felt surreal. Raised in a life marked by financial struggles, this level of luxury was a striking departure from your past.

As you held up each ring, Satoru's fingers gently brushed against yours, creating a subtle yet profound connection between you both. It filled you with a complex mix of emotions, from sheer amazement to profound gratitude.

After a thoughtful selection process, you both settled on the perfect wedding bands. The private showroom felt like a cocoon of love and joy, where you not only chose rings but also painted the canvas of your future as a married couple. This moment symbolized the journey from your challenging past to the opulent and joyful present, a path you'd walked together, and the path you were now forging toward a promising future.

As you walked out of the showroom with those rings in a luxurious bag, you couldn't help but glance at Satoru with a heart full of gratitude, love, and excitement for the adventures that awaited you both.

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As you and Satoru celebrated your intimate wedding ceremony in a beautifully decorated garden, surrounded by the vibrant colors of blooming flowers and the warm smiles of your closest friends, Shoko couldn't help but add her own vibrant presence to the occasion.

She walked over, her face lighting up with a teasing grin as she approached the newlyweds. "Holy shit, Satoru, you really got [Name] to marry you?" Her words were filled with playful awe as she wrapped both of you in her embrace.

The atmosphere was one of joy and celebration. A gentle breeze played with your hair, the sun painted everything in a golden hue, and the sweet scent of flowers filled the air. The camaraderie between you, Shoko, and the other guests created a warm, welcoming ambiance. Your wedding day was turning out to be a beautiful and memorable celebration of love, friendship, and new beginnings.

With a good-natured laugh, Satoru replied, "Can you believe it, Shoko? I finally convinced her." His arm was wrapped around your waist as he held you close, and you leaned into his comforting presence.

Shoko playfully rolled her eyes. "Oh, I can believe it. [Name], you must have seen something special in this guy to tie the knot."

You nodded, your gaze filled with affection as you looked at Satoru. "I definitely did, Shoko. He's the only one who could've won over my heart."

Shoko's expression softened, and she gave a genuine smile. "Well, I'm happy for both of you. May your journey together be as incredible as the adventures you've faced as Jujutsu Sorcerers."

The three of you shared a warm, congratulatory embrace, surrounded by the love and support of your friends on this special day.

"[Name]," you turned around at the soft call of your name, and your eyes lit up with joy at the sight of Yaga. He stood there with tears in his eyes, gazing at you in your stunning wedding dress. Without hesitation, you swiftly hugged him, feeling the warmth of his embrace.

"Papa, none of this would've been possible if it weren't for you looking for me. I've never told you, but I'm so grateful that you adopted me," you softly confessed as happy tears trickled down your cheeks.

"[Name], I know I may not be your real father, but you will always be my daughter," Yaga proclaimed, his voice filled with love and pride, and he hugged you tightly.

Satoru watched this heartfelt exchange, a deep appreciation in his eyes. If it weren't for Yaga's kindness and the twist of fate that brought you into his life, he would've missed out on knowing the beautiful soul that you are.

As you left to speak amongst the other attendees, Satoru headed towards his old-time principal. The two men stood side by side, their attention fixed on you as you mingled with the other guests.

With a sense of heartfelt gratitude, Satoru broke the silence. "I want to thank you. If it weren't for your guidance, I might never have found the love of my life." His words carried a profound weight, reflecting the depths of his appreciation.

Yaga watched you with fondness, a paternal smile gracing his lips as he spoke to Satoru. "Treat her well, Satoru. She's seen the horrors of life, both in the normal world and the Jujutsu world. Protect her."

Satoru let out a soft chuckle, exuding a confidence that matched his words. "Old man, you don't need to worry. I'll protect her with my life. After all, I am the strongest." His tone held both playfulness and sincerity, expressing his unwavering commitment to you.

Yaga affectionately smacked the back of his long-time student's head, the love and concern evident in his actions. He followed the gentle smack by ruffling Satoru's signature white locks. "You know, the higher-ups aren't too happy about this, especially since she's a foreigner."

Satoru's response was laced with his typical nonchalant attitude, a hint of defiance in his words. "When have I ever cared about their opinions? She's a Gojo now."

Yaga's gaze turned serious as he imparted a word of caution. "I know, but keep your guard up. Old traditions die hard." With those words, he left to rejoin the festivities, leaving Satoru to reflect on the challenges that might lie ahead as a married Jujutsu Sorcerer.

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“Satoru, why are all the apartments you've found so expensive? A million yen a month? Are you serious?" you questioned, your brows furrowed as you peered at the listings he had provided.

Satoru chuckled softly, looking over your shoulder at the screen. "Well, I do have expensive tastes. And my lovely wife deserves nothing but the best,” he concluded with a wink and a playful smile, swiftly planting a sweet kiss on your cheek before making his way around the couch to sit beside you.

"Would you rather us buy a home instead? I can have that arranged," Satoru explained, his arm gently pulling you closer as he spoke. You turned to look at him, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. "I appreciate your generosity, Satoru, but buying a home is a big step. Let's find a balance, somewhere comfortable but not too extravagant, where we can create our own little world together."

His smile grew even wider as he embraced you. "You're absolutely right, my love. We'll find the perfect place, a home that's just right for us, where we can build our life together."

As you continued your search, your eyes widened in surprise as you stumbled upon a perfect three-bedroom apartment. Its charm lay in the blend of modern elegance with a cozy, homey feel. The location was ideal, with easy access to shopping, restaurants, and public transit, making it a promising place to start your life together.

"Want to check it out?" Satoru inquired, leaning in closer, his warm breath tickling your ear.

You took a moment to consider it, peering at the listings on your laptop screen. "Well, it's getting quite late, they've probably left for the day," you replied, continuing to scroll through the listing gallery on your laptop.

Satoru shifted closer, wrapping an arm around your waist, making you feel both protected and loved. "My love, I can make anything happen. Just you watch. While I call my agent, why don't you find a good dessert shop nearby?" he suggested, planting a soft kiss on your neck.

A soft, involuntary moan escaped your lips, your cheeks blushing with warmth. As you prepared to get dressed and ready, you teased Satoru playfully. "If we're going out this late, you're taking me to dinner too, rich boy.”

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You soon found yourselves seated in a cozy ramen shop, savoring your favorite type of ramen. The neon lights from the street outside illuminated your new house keys, now resting on the table, a silent promise of your shared future together.

With your new shared home secured, your mind began to gravitate toward the child you'd be searching for in the coming days.

As you and Satoru prepared to embark on this new journey, you couldn't help but reflect on the child's future. The busy lives you led as Jujutsu Sorcerers loomed before you, and you pondered how to provide the care and support this child would need.

Your heart ached at the thought. Your own experiences growing up in the foster care system had instilled in you a profound understanding of loneliness, and you couldn't bear the idea of this child feeling the same way.

Turning to Satoru, you softly posed a question that had been weighing on your mind, "Satoru, what do you think about me staying at home with the kid?"

A tender smile graced Satoru's lips as he gently took your hand into his own, his eyes filled with warmth. "Whatever you want to do, you know money isn't a problem," he softly assured.

You sighed, your brow furrowing with concern. "I know, it's just..." You hesitated, struggling to put your thoughts into words. "I don't think the higher-ups will allow me to take leave. They were wary of Yaga adopting me, but they only allowed me to come here on the condition that I get properly trained and work for them."

Satoru locked his gaze with yours, his eyes filled with unwavering resolve. "Don't worry so much," he declared, "I will arrange a meeting with them, and I'll go to great lengths if necessary. Remember, you're not just any sorcerer; you're my wife now, and they'll have to answer to me."

Your laughter filled the room as you playfully teased him. "Well, you are the almighty Satoru Gojo, aren't you? Nothing's ever been able to stand in your way," you said, your tone filled with affection and admiration, a tender smile gracing your lips.

Deep within your heart, you had unwavering faith in Satoru's determination to fulfill any request you made, but despite that, an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of your stomach.

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As you and Gojo walked hand in hand through the dimly lit, run-down alleyway, he led the way with purpose, determined to find the child. Arriving at the address provided by his informants, Gojo immediately spotted a young boy, no older than six, standing there, looking lost and forlorn.

"Who are you? And why are you looking at me like that?" Megumi began, his small face contorted with a mixture of curiosity and caution as he gazed up at Gojo's rather disgusted expression.

Gojo hesitated for a moment, then attempted to explain, "Well, it's just that you look exactly like..."

You swiftly elbowed him in the ribs, interrupting him. "Satoru, what's wrong with you?" you said, a bit exasperated. You knelt down to Megumi's eye level, offering a more compassionate and friendly presence.

You decided to take the lead, starting with polite introductions. "Let me reintroduce ourselves. I'm [Name] Gojo, and this here is my husband, Satoru Gojo. He's kind, just a bit... unusual at times," you said with a gentle smile. A small giggle escaped from Megumi as Satoru knelt next to you.

Satoru continued the conversation, addressing the crucial matter. "Your dad is from the Zen'in clan, a family of powerful sorcerers. I assume you have powers and can see them too, right? At your age, it's a ripe time to sell especially based on your abilities. Your dad kept you a secret from the clan as his trump card."

He began to mention something about Megumi's father, but Megumi swiftly cut him off with a response that showed surprising maturity for his age. "Who cares? I haven't seen him in years, and I don't remember what he looks like."

The boy's gaze shifted to a girl who waved at him from above. "Tsumiki's mom hasn't come back either, so that means they're done taking care of us and living happily now," Megumi finished, his voice tinged with an innocence that left you and Satoru lost for words.

You softened your gaze as you continued the conversation with Megumi. "Is Tsumiki your older sister?" You directed your gentle question to Megumi, your eyes locked onto his emerald gaze. He gave a slight nod before responding, "She takes care of the both of us, but we're not related."

Your warm response held the wisdom of your own experiences. "You don't have to be related to be siblings. If she's the one who's been taking care of you, then you're siblings." You looked up at Tsumiki, her long brown hair softly blowing in the wind as she observed the situation from above.

Tsumiki appeared to be around Megumi's age, perhaps a year older or so, and her maturity tugged at your heart. You understood the difficulties of taking on a parental role for your siblings, but she was far too young to be in such a situation. In that moment, you made up your mind; you wouldn't dare separate the two.

With a sense of empathy and responsibility, Gojo stood up, stretching his legs. "Alrighty then, let's get down to business. What do you want to do? Do you want to go to the Zen'in family?" he posed, while you remained crouched down beside Megumi

Megumi's serious gaze lingered on you, his emerald eyes sharp and discerning. He seemed to sense your momentary fear, your [e/c] eyes reflecting a flicker of concern. "What'll happen to Tsumiki? Will she be happy if we go there? My answer depends on that," he explained, his voice reflecting a sense of responsibility and protectiveness that reminded you of your own experiences.

"No," you and Satoru responded simultaneously.

"There's absolutely no way she'll be happy if she goes there. I can guarantee that," Satoru declared, his tone filled with gravity.

Megumi's face transformed from serious consideration to a familiar anger, an emotion driven by the desire to protect his sibling. It resonated with your own determination to shield those you cared about from harm.

Gojo chuckled, a lightness returning to the situation. "Heh heh, that settles it. You two are coming with us," he declared, playfully ruffling Megumi's obsidian locks.

With your heart brimming with resolve and love, you gently held his shoulder. "Megumi, I promise to give you and Tsumiki all the love and joy I possibly can," you softly professed. You extended your pinky finger, a symbol of your unbreakable vow, wrapping it around his smaller one as your eyes shined with unwavering determination.

Megumi's small smile mirrored your own as he wrapped his pinky finger around yours. The soft, gentle contact felt like a promise of security and affection, rekindling a sense of maternal warmth in his heart. In this heartfelt gesture, it was as if a new chapter was beginning, filled with the hope and reassurance that you would provide for both him and Tsumiki. It was a small yet profound moment of connection, signifying the start of a new family.

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In the near-empty apartment, you gently addressed Tsumiki and Megumi, your concern for them evident in your soft-spoken words. "Is this everything?" you asked, casting a caring gaze around the room.

The siblings nodded in agreement, their young faces reflecting the stark simplicity of their surroundings. Your heart ached, seeing their lives echoing your own challenging childhood.

"Are you two hungry?" you continued, and they exchanged glances before responding with a quiet "yes." You couldn't help but smile, your heart brimming with warmth at the thought of caring for these children. "Alrighty then," you said, standing up. "We can go out for dinner on our way home. Would you like to hold my hand?" Your gentle inquiry conveyed your sincerity and your readiness to provide them with the support they deserved.

As you reached out, both Tsumiki and Megumi took your hands with an earnest nod. The bond forming between you felt stronger with every passing moment, and you couldn't help but feel that, even with the challenges ahead, you were on the right path.

Satoru watched the three of you with pride and affection, knowing that this journey you were embarking on was filled with uncertainty, but it was also marked by love, commitment, and the promise of a brighter future for these two young souls who had endured so much.

With Tsumiki and Megumi in tow, you left the apartment behind, the doors closing on a chapter of your life and opening to the next, where love, family, and the responsibilities that came with them awaited you.

“Aren’t you two a little young to be married and let alone adopting children?” Megumi blankly stated before slurping up his udon, gazing at both of you with an unblinking stare, his inquisitive eyes betraying the maturity beyond his years. Tsumiki, sitting beside him, was caught off guard and her cheeks turned a shade of pink as she elbowed her brother playfully, a silent signal to remind him of their manners.

Your soft laughter filled the air, a warm sound that dissolved any tension his question might have caused. "Well, yes, we're young, but sometimes life takes unexpected turns," you replied with a knowing smile. "We want to make sure you two have a safe and happy home."

Megumi didn't say much more but gave a small nod, and both of them continued to eat their udon, occasionally glancing at each other and sharing unspoken thoughts. In this moment, you realized the challenges that lay ahead, not only in raising them but also in helping them adapt to their new lives. Yet, you were determined to face it all with love and understanding.

As the dinner continued, you found yourself engaging in more casual conversation with the two children. You learned about their likes, dislikes, and interests, all while sharing stories from your own childhood. Despite their initial apprehension, it was clear that they were beginning to feel more at ease in your presence.

Tsumiki talked about her love for drawing, especially the beautiful sunsets she had seen from their apartment window. You encouraged her to keep drawing and promised to help her get art supplies. Megumi, on the other hand, was a bit more reserved, but he opened up about his fascination with animals, particularly dogs. You and Satoru exchanged knowing glances; it was a conversation that hinted at possible future discussions about getting a pet.

The meal ended with smiles, and as you walked back home, the children held your hands tightly, their trust in you growing with every step.

Once home, they settled into their new rooms, a bit apprehensive but also curious. You tucked them into bed, and as you kissed their foreheads goodnight, Tsumiki smiled sleepily, "I think we'll be happy here."

You whispered back, "We'll do our best to make sure of it."

The bonds of your new family were beginning to form, and the challenges ahead seemed less daunting as you faced them together.

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Two weeks had passed quicker than you anticipated. The clock on the wall read well past midnight as you and Satoru sat at the small dinner table. The air around you felt tense and heavy with the implications of the contract spread out before you. The kids were sound asleep, unaware of the decisions being made on their behalf.

Your finger traced the sentences of the contract, and Satoru's furrowed brows mirrored your concern. Every word felt like a heavy weight, but what worried you most was the glaring omission in the document concerning Tsumiki.

You anxiously noted the missing information, concern etched across your face. "[Name] Gojo will relinquish her sorcerer duties to raise Megumi Fushiguro. Once he’s deemed fit to begin training and studying full time, [Name] Gojo will be required to take any mission the special counsel gives her. But why isn't there anything in here about Tsumiki?"

Satoru shared your unease. "They probably overlooked it. I'll sort this out with them. We're taking responsibility for both of them, and they need to know that."

You let out a sigh, comforted by his resolve. Despite the tension in the air, you knew that Satoru was unwavering in his commitment to the children's well-being.

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In a dimly lit, austere room, Satoru sat across from the special counsel. The atmosphere was thick with tension as they explained why they had omitted Tsumiki from the contract.

"Miss Tsumiki has no value to us as she's not a curse user," one of the council members stated, their tone unyielding.

Satoru leaned forward, his voice cold with determination. "That's irrelevant. Both Megumi and Tsumiki are under the care of myself and my wife. As the head of the Gojo clan, I refuse to come to an agreement until their status is clear."

The special counsel members exchanged glances but eventually gave in to his demand. "Fine, both children will be recognized under the care of [Name] Gojo. However, there is one condition. Once Tsumiki is older, [Name] Gojo must return to her duties part-time."

Satoru began to object, but the special counsel silenced him with a stern look. "Remember, Satoru, the only reason your wife was granted status in Japan and Yaga was funded to find good homes for her younger siblings was due to our sponsorship. She has a duty to fulfill."

Satoru gritted his teeth, his frustration evident. They had him cornered, and he knew he couldn't argue further. "Very well, but once she's old enough, and only part-time," he agreed, albeit reluctantly.

The special counsel nodded in approval, and the matter seemed settled, but he couldn't help but feel uneasy about the consequences this condition might have on you.

Satoru's body tensed as he contemplated the implications of the special counsel's conditions. In the dimly lit room, beads of sweat formed on his forehead, and his jaw clenched so hard it hurt. The anxiety in the air was palpable, thick and suffocating.

With clenched fists and gritted teeth, he imagined the counsel's sinister influence seeping into every corner of your lives. The thought of you working under their watchful eyes filled him with dread. He had witnessed firsthand how they manipulated situations, and he couldn't bear the idea of you becoming another pawn in their dangerous game.

The city's lights outside the window seemed to taunt him, each one representing a different threat, a different move by this shadowy adversary. He knew this battle was far from over, and the tense atmosphere in the room mirrored the battle raging in his mind.

As Satoru entered the cozy living room, the weight of the meeting still pressing on his shoulders, he was met with your warm embrace. Your arms wrapped around him, and the softness of your hug offered a moment of respite.

"Everything will be okay," you whispered reassuringly, your voice a soothing balm to his tired soul. It was as if your words carried the power to dispel the darkness that clung to him. The laundry you had been folding lay forgotten, replaced by the comfort of this embrace.

Laying in bed, you both found solace in the soft, silvery embrace of moonlight filtering through the blinds. The gentle glow bathed Satoru's pure white locks, giving him an almost ethereal appearance.

"They agreed to let us care for both of them," Satoru began, his voice a calming presence in the stillness of the night, "but there's a condition. When Tsumiki gets older, you'll have to go back to working part-time."

As he spoke, his fingers traced soothing circles on your hips, their warmth and tenderness filling the room with a sense of shared vulnerability and understanding. "That's all?" You chuckled nervously, but the tension in the room couldn't be ignored.

"[Name], you have to understand," Satoru's voice was heavy with gravity, "the higher-ups, they're just as ruthless as those who sent Toji after your family."

As the words hung in the air, the weight of the dangerous world you both inhabited pressed upon you, a reminder that even in your quest to provide a loving home for the children, you couldn't escape the shadows of your past.

You nestled into the warmth of your husband's body, his embrace a comforting shield against the uncertainties that loomed. A heavy sigh escaped your lips, and you planted a tender kiss on his chest.

"I know," you murmured, your voice filled with the weight of your past. "It's not every day that someone contacts the head of a gang to find a sixteen-year-old with healing powers."

Your ring barring hand moved to caress his flawless cheek as you continued, your words brimming with the depth of your emotions. "Back then, all I wanted was for my siblings to live safe, happy lives. I had to let them go for that to happen. And then I met you. I fell in love, and now we're married, with two kids under our care. The dream I'd long forgotten had come true before I even realized it."

You paused, gazing into his eyes with sincerity. "There will always be a give and take, but if it's for you and the kids, I'm more than happy to oblige. We've come this far together, and we'll face whatever comes our way together too."

In the quiet of your shared bedroom, where only the soft moonlight bore witness to your conversation, Satoru felt a renewed sense of admiration for your strength and devotion. Your willingness to make sacrifices for the family you had come to cherish moved him deeply. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, and as he held you close, his heart swelled with love for the incredible woman who had become his partner in life.

It was in moments like this, in the stillness of the night, that he realized how fortunate he was to have you by his side, facing both the challenges and joys of the future together.

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Hello my loves! So I wanted to say I will be updating less often as I’m dealing with some health concerns at the moment. I will continue to work hard bc all the the love and support this story has gotten gives me strength :,)

As always, much love xoxo

ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ

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