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#i was a bit worried about the wrapping
good-beanswrites · 2 months
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Just wanted to plant an idea if you wanted a bit of fuel: Mahiru asking Yuno to come to her cell before everything goes down.
Edit: I forgot the ask didn't say it but this is part of Kyanako's incredible Order Of Attack AU!
Didn't mean for this to become a mini Mappi study but here we are ✨ Thank you for the request! I fully intended to write them hanging out, but it's more right before they hang out lol. Went a bit on-the-nose with foreshadowing, but isn't that the fun part? It has become Emotional Over Mahiru Hour...
I kept things vague, but TW for mentioning her boyfriend's state of potential self-harm
Mahiru tried not to act superstitious, she really did. As much as she loved the idea of little luck charms, or avoided easy signs of misfortune, it was easier to keep quiet about such ridiculous things.
Maybe catching a bride’s bouquet meant no guarantees; maybe there was no real harm in stepping underneath ladders, maybe a coin tossed into a fountain had no real magic to its wish. However, the one thing she knew for sure held power was a lucky presence. Being in the right place at the right time could alter everything. And today was the right time for something. There was this waiting in the air. The prison had been holding its breath. Mahiru knew it was time to release it all.
“You must be so lonely, why don’t you let big sis Mahiru keep you company?” She beamed at Amane.
She often recalled the good fortune that she and a certain young man had crossed paths on the university terrace. She used to laugh with him about the wonderful coincidence of bumping into each other outside of the bakery, then the convenience store. 
Though she’d never spoken about it to him, she was also grateful for many occasions where she walked in on him at the precise moment to talk him out of something reckless. She always told him that they’d do everything together. He didn’t need to be alone anymore. 
“I wish to be alone. I need peace of mind to think.” Amane turned away from the cell door.
It was a good thing, too. Mahiru’s smile wasn’t as convincing as she said, “o-oh. Of course.”
She made her way around the panopticon, hearing Fuuta pace his cell in anticipation. He must have felt it too, this holding of breath. 
Or perhaps not. He turned down her offer for a bit of company, including a few more colorful words than Amane had. Mahiru just apologized for bothering him and headed back to her cell. She wasn’t sure where Mikoto was at this hour, but she didn’t feel like smiling through a third rejection.
She shook her head back and forth. She wished the motion could rattle the voices inside, she wished she could shake them all away. With her arms secured in place she could no longer cover her ears. She used to hum to keep them at bay, but lately they’d been too loud to stifle. They just kept on talking.
Their words told her the two were right. Nobody needed her company. No – nobody wanted it. Being together hadn’t helped her boyfriend. In fact, being together had been the very thing that got him killed. No wonder Amane and Fuuta wanted to avoid her. 
So then, this was for the best. She would rather deal with the brief sting of refusal than stumble in one day to find them hurt… or worse. As much as she tried to avoid the superstition of it all, the voices reminded her that her very presence could mean life or death. 
“Mappi, are you alright?” Mahiru hadn’t realized a tear had slipped down her cheek until she hurried to swipe it away in front of Yuno. 
“Hah, I’m fine! Just fine.” It was impossible to fool her, Mahiru had learned, but that never stopped her from trying. 
At least she always spoke tactfully. “Rough morning?”
Mahiru shifted her arms in her uniform, making a small sound of agreement.
“Can I do anything to help? What if I stay with you for a bit? I can do your hair, and…”
The voices were right. Amane and Fuuta knew it, too. Presences did hold power, and Mahiru’s was cursed.
But she would sound foolish admitting such a fear to Yuno. She'd heard plenty from the voices about how stupid and airheaded she was, there was no use in getting the same lecture from someone as grounded as her.
Mahiru managed a weak protest, unable to explain her real reasoning. Yuno was insistent. She didn’t give much of a choice. Could she feel the strangeness of the prison, as well? 
At last, Mahiru allowed her shoulders to sag. Yuno was lucky. And kind. Having her nearby would do her good. Amane and Fuuta would be alright. Mahiru had tried spending more time with them after verdicts were announced. Now, she made a mental note to pull back. If her love couldn’t save anyone, at least she could spare them from her curse. They would be safe. 
“Yes. Please stay. The truth is... I don't want to be alone.”
#milgram#mahiru shiina#yuno kashiki#amane and fuuta mentioned#i dont know how well this all fits in with your vision of the au but i had a ton of fun with this lmao sorry 😂#oh hey if anyone knows any japanese superstitions like those in the beginning lmk#i was trying to research them but i kept getting lucky symbols/words - not necessarily actions like that#anyway thank you so much for this!! it was a really interesting moment to capture >:0#drabbles that take me way too long to combine my three brain cells but im really pleased with the end result#i had a lot of Mahiru Thoughts but it took a bit of fiddling to make them fit together#the superstitiousness - the focus on one's presence - the parallels with his bf - what she's dealing with from the voices#im glad it came together semi-smoothly in the end asdfsd#i didnt mean for mahiru t break the fourth wall or anything --#i always saw her as a master at picking up on social changes/cues so she can tell when things are most tense/kotoko is fully prepared#but she doesnt consciously know it -- she just knows that things feel Off#not only do the attacks confirm mahirus fear that shes cursed - but yunos involvement confirms her belief that shes extra lucky#i wonder if shed still end up spending all her time with yuno now that she thought she was such a protective person...#i couldnt articulate it right since the end was wrapping up so nicely - but mahiru starts to wonder if most people are fine being left alon#and *shes* the odd one out for craving company#then she feels isolated because by getting what she wants shes dooming someone else#i mean... if everyone you try to get close to starts getting hurt... wouldnt you worry about the same...?#AHAHAHAHA hope you enjoyed 🙃#*posts this then retreats back into the void for a bit*#drabbles
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wildflowercryptid · 1 month
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honestly, i've broken down and need to romance sam again so i'm starting a remake of my switch sdv file on my computer.
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thedreadvampy · 5 months
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stressed 🥲
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littlejazzy · 2 years
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I made my first moodboard! Featuring CG!Dan and CG!Herbert!!!
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arklay · 2 years
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did not just think about diana finding al just sitting on their bed holding their wedding photo in his hands after she brings him back, and he's just looking at it, visibly distressed, and the moment she touches his shoulder he starts crying and buries his face against her chest because he thinks he really ruined their relationship. good lord
#leah.txt#pair: ewskers#baby boy she would not have spent years regenerating your body if she hated you i am going to disintegrate i can't do this#i think when his viruses are stable his emotions are very much Not. i think the mutant strain changed specific brain chemistry and he lost#a lot of empathy and just the ability to really feel emotions. he was very numb. he knew he should feel a certain way and emulated that but#he didn't really *feel* and after everything is stable he's feeling things he hasn't in over 10 years and he's also in a very bad state of#mind from everything that's happened so oh boy things aren't going great for them#also numb except like anger. and hatred. he was being turned into a literal killing machine after all. notice how blood thirsty he got?#i have so much post volcano lore for them i can't do this i need to just. explodes. and like they are still working through things ofc (it#takes years) when diana is alerted of activity with the company and even though they go and do all of that like he is still trying to find#himself again and decondition everything spencer and umbrella drilled into his head. they are still evil and scheming don't worry there#besties. and they still think they are better than everyone else. this is fact in their minds. but like. there's a lot going on for him#i put him through a lot of pain and as much as i joke that i want to put him through a blender it actually makes me really sad. he doesn't#need more trauma lmao. yeah he is evil and fucked up but no child deserves what spencer did to him#fictional man making me really sad. i need to wrap him in a blanket#sir why did you have to go and try and kill everyone on the planet whadda hell is wrong with you i'm holding your hand#maybe if your wife was there kissing you then you'd calm down a little bit and not throw yourself into a volcano#not unfolding time coming on shuffle as i type this what is wrong with you spotify i can't go through this right now#i like to see powerful men weak and cry but also he is a ball of trauma and it hurts me#i have Many thoughts about why he did what he did in 5 cause yeah it's out of character for him to follow through with spencer's vision#but i don't think that's what he was doing. kinda hinted a bit at this with that one fight fic but also i have a whole essay somewhere
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mimicteruyo · 1 year
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Yesterday: “I will literally never reach the end of this draft.”
Today: “...Hold on. I’m down to the final 10k.”
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somekindafairy · 1 year
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thinking about how much of the perception of gender feels like a performance. wondering what it means to be a man once you strip away biological essentialism and the performance of masculinity.
maybe i would be less dysphoric if i put more effort into my performance. thinking about the idea of it "coming naturally" like men and women "naturally" behave differently and how that maps on to how people perceive trans people. or what it means to "feel" like a man or a woman to others, as if that isn't intimately connected to cultural gender preformance. or that your ability to master said performance proves something innate about you.
thinking about being autistic and having to learn a new script whole cloth when i barely (read: not at all) managed the first one, wondering if this one would come more naturally if i let it, and if it doesn't what does that mean.
thinking about the performance of gender as a different culture, like learning a new dialect. idk
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misskamelie · 2 years
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On a nice side note, I'm still going well with my German streak on Duolingo and I think now I know how the accusative and dative work <3
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saetoru · 7 months
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imagine being fwbs with gojo n in the middle of folding you like a lawn chair he noses at your cheek n goes “hey do u wanna be my girlfriend?”
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ BEST OF THE BEST — GOJO SATORU.
contents. fwb! satoru, fem! reader, minors do not interact, unprotected sex, mating press, creampie, non canon compliant (suguru and shoko are ur friend group >:( tyvm), very cheesy ending my b, yes i made a reference to this is where you’re weak, right? sue me, petnames (sweetheart, sweet girl, princess, baby)
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“bet you were waitin’ for this all day, huh sweetheart?” satoru always has a way with words—a very unique, special, and irritating way with words that routinely manages to get under your skin.
you would scoff—in fact, you would call him quite a colorful variation of words if his thick cock wasn’t pressing comfortably against your sweet spot.
so instead, you gasp a quiet, “f-fuck—right there.”
“yeah, i know,” he chuckles, “this is where you need me, huh? where you’re weak?”
you can’t do anything but whimper at that, hands wrapped tightly around him as they claw into his shoulder. he always wears the marks you leave like a good sport too—shows up to the gym in a tank top that shows them off good and well, right for suguru to see them clear as day. you almost block satoru right on the spot when he sends you a selfie in the mirror, showing off the angry marks with a wink following.
it’s a bit of a predicament, fucking your high school friend and not letting anyone know. the idea of shoko and suguru finding out that every other night, satoru is in your bed as his cum leaks out of your abused cunt is enough to make you nauseous—but never nauseous enough not to open the door for him.
the most unfortunate fact you’ve learned in your life is that satoru knows how to fuck—in fact, he knows how to fuck you well enough that you let him come back. it’s a bit shameful, really, the way you let him knock on your door, the way you open it and let him in, the way you actually fuck him and let him sleep in your bed until the morning.
and then (because he’s an asshole) he wakes up, gives you a sly wink, and murmurs i’ll be back soon, yeah? keep that bed warm for me, sweetheart.
“c-close, toru—‘m gonna….gonna—”
“gonna what? cum? already? barely even fucked you yet,” he hums, hooking your leg over his shoulder before all but pressing you in half. you mewl at the way his tip brushes past your folds and splits you in half—deeper this time with the new position. “look at that,” he coos, staring down at the way his cock slips in and out of you, “takin’ me so well, sweet girl. i think you can go a bit longer, don’t you?”
“m-more, more—need—”
“i know, i know,” he grins, “need me to fuck you dumb, don’t you? don’t worry, princess. i’ll give you more.”
his hips snap into you, pelvis rocking against yours as his pre cum and your slick mix, making a mess between your bodies as it coats your skin. you gasp, pulling satoru closer as his head falls to tuck into your shoulder, his labored breaths fanning against the shell of your ear.
“‘s good,” you whine, “f-feels good, toru.”
“yeah? feel that? squeezin’ me so tight, i can barely move,” he groans, letting out a sweet, low sound into your ear that has your spine shivering—you think you could come undone from that, from the sounds he makes as your walls flutter around him.
you think everything about satoru is enough to send you over the edge, from the sound of his voice to that pretty face of his when he spills into you.
you know he’s close—you can feel the slight twitch of his cock as his pace gets sloppier, as his thumb finds your clit and rubs desperate circles into the sensitive nerves, as he practically presses your knees to your shoulders and bullies his throbbing cock deep into your dripping cunt. and you’re close too, head spinning as your eyes flutter shut and your lips part with a broken wail.
“c-close—‘gonna cum, toru,” you gasp, voice coming in labored pants as his breath hitches.
you look perfect like this—like you’re his, like your body was made for him to touch in sinful ways, like it was his cock that was always supposed to fit into you and make you fall apart. his hand grabs yours, and without thinking, both of your fingers interlace.
“baby,” he hums, his nose pressing into your cheek as he kisses the skin softly, “‘m gonna make you mine, yeah? wanna be my girlfriend? my sweet girl? you want it, right?”
you should be shocked—you should stop and ask him what he means, what he’s playing at, what he thinks he’s doing toying with your mind.
instead, you gasp, pulling him closer as your walls spasm around him, back arching and eyes rolling back as the coil in your belly snaps and you cum. hard. harder than he’s ever made you before. does the idea of being his really do that to you? does the idea of being his sweet, precious girl outside of your bed at night really send you hurdling over the edge like that?
evidently, it does—and your high sends him right into his own. like he needs you to fall apart so he can too, like the way he knows you feel good makes him feel good too. maybe he does want you, maybe it’s not a sick joke. the way his voice cracks with a strained call of your name certainly says as much—the way his hand tightens its grip on yours, the way his hips rut desperately as he presses impossibly closer, the way he presses hot, scattered kisses along your cheek and jaw as he groans through his release.
it’s messy. it’s filthy. it’s downright dirty the way satoru fucks his cum into you, letting it drip down your thighs and mark your skin—but it feels like being his.
you think you might want that.
he’s gentle when he finishes—carefully unhooks your legs from his shoulders before running a hand along your thigh and squeezing as he observes the cum dripping between your legs. you huff when he collapses over you, glaring at him as his weight presses onto your form.
“you’re heavy,” you grunt, smacking at his shoulder.
he hums, nose pressing to your jaw as he kisses it. “not moving till you answer me.”
“satoru, don’t joke about—”
“how rude,” he gasps, “you think i would joke while i’m balls deep in—”
“oh my god,” you groan, covering your face with your hands, “please stop talking.”
he grins, chuckling as he shuffles up to bury his face into your neck, pressing a gentle kiss to the skin. “you don’t wanna be my girlfriend? that’s gonna hurt my feelings, y’know.”
satoru has always been like that, wearing an easy grin and plastering that playfulness on like a second skin. you can hear it though—the slight unease in his voice. you can’t fathom letting everyone know that sometimes, you let satoru fuck you…but maybe knowing that sometimes, you hold hands, and maybe kiss, and perhaps snuggle on the couch, and potentially even share a bed to sleep, not just fuck, but sleep—maybe they can know that. 
that doesn’t sound so bad. 
“that depends,” you hum, pretending to think, “how good at being a boyfriend are you?”
“excellent,” he plays along, “best of the best.”
“that’s just big talk. you could be lying for all i know,” you point out—but your fingers slip into his hair, twirling the sweaty strands along your fingers. 
“well, you’ll just have to let me prove i’m a good boyfriend—so that means i have to be your boyfriend. sorry, it’s the only way.”
if satoru hears the giggle you try to hide as you sigh exaggeratedly, he doesn’t mention it, lips pulling into a giddy smile as he pulls his head out of your neck and presses his forehead to yours. your hands cup his cheeks, squeezing gently.
“i guess if this is the only way,” you shake your head theatrically, “you can be my boyfriend. for now.”
“i’m grateful,” he snorts—and then there’s a peck to your lips. one, two, three gentle kisses before he presses a lingering one. it’s sweet, and slow, and just a bit needy as he presses deeper into you. “now i can tell suguru the scratches on my back are yours. he’s been asking a lot.”
leave it to satoru to speak and ruin the moment just by opening his mouth.
“satoru,” you hiss, throwing him a sharp look, “i think you’d be a better boyfriend when your mouth is shut.”
“then i can’t kiss you,” he gasps, “that’s the best part of being my girlfriend.”
and just to prove it, he kisses you again—and maybe, although you hate to admit it, he’s right. it is the best part. 
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i wanna be his girlfriend :(
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expectopaatronum · 5 months
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this christmas just isn’t christmas-ing like other christmases ://
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yes7erdays · 5 months
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tag drop
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niennanir · 10 months
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Listen to your elders
So last week I posted abut the importance of downloading your fic. And then three days later AO3 went down for 24 hours. No one was more weirded out by this than I was. But while y’all were acting like the library at Alexandria was on fire I was reading my download fic and editing chapter eight of Buck, Rogers, and the 21st Century. And also thinking about what I could do to be helpful when the crisis was actually over.
So first off, I’m going to repeat that if you’re going to bookmark a fic, you really need to also download the fic and back it up in a safe place. I just do it automatically now and it’s a good habit to get into.
But let’s talk about some other scenarios. Last October I lost power for over a week after hurricane Ian. Apart from not having internet or A/C I did find plenty to do, I collect books so I had plenty to read, but maybe, unlike me, your favorite comfort reads aren’t sitting on a bookshelf. So let’s do something about that, shall we?
In olden times many long years ago around 1995 we printed off a lot of fic. It was mostly SOP to print a fic you planned to reread and stick it in a three ring binder. And that’s totally valid today too, but you can also make a very nice paperback with a minimum amount of skill and materials.
Let’s start with the download; Go to Ao3 and select your fic, we’ll be working with one of mine. This method works best with one shots, long fic tends to need a more complicated approach. Get yourself an HTML download
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Open up the HTML download and select all then copy paste into any word processor. Set the page to landscape and two columns, then change the font to something you find easy to read, this is your book, no judgement. This is all you have to do for layout but I like to play a little bit. I move all the meta, summary, notes to the end and pick out a fun font for the title: 
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No time like the present to do a quick proofread. Congratulations, you’ve just created your first typeset. On to the fun part.
Now you’re going to need some materials:  8.5x11in paper ruler one sheet of 12x12 medium card stock (60-80lb) scissors pencil pen or fine tip marker sheet of wax paper white glue two binder clips 2 heavy books or 1 brick butter knife
You’ll also need a printer, if you’re in the US there is almost a 100% chance your local library has a printer you can use if you don’t have your own. None of these materials are expensive and you can literally use cheap copy paper and Elmers glue.
Print your text block, one page per side. Fold the first page in half so that the blank side is inside and the printed side out:
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use the butter knife to crease the edge. Repeat on all the sheets. When you’ve finished, stack them up with the raw edge on the left and the folded edge on the right. I used standard copy paper, because you’re only printing on one side there’s no bleed to worry about. Take the text block and line everything up. Use the binder clips to hold the raw edge in place.
Wrap the text block in the wax paper so that the raw edge and binder clips are facing out. I’m going to use my home built book press but you don’t need one, a brick or a couple of books or anything else heavy will work fine.
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Once the text block is anchored down, take off he binder clips and get out the glue.
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You can use a brush but you don’t need one, smear some glue on that raw edge.
Go make a margarita, watch The Mandalorian, call your mother. Don’t come back for at least an hour
In an hour smear some more glue on there and shift your brick forward so that the whole book is covered. This keeps the paper from warping. While glue part 2 is drying we’ll do the cover. Get out your 12x12 cardstock
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Mark the cardstock off at 8.5 inches and cut it. Measure in 5.5 inches from the left and put in a score line with the butter knife (the back edge not the sharp edge)
Carefully fold the score line, this is your front cover. You have some options for the cover title, you can use a cutting machine like a cricut if you have one, you can print out a title on the computer and use carbon paper to transfer the text to the cardstock. I was in a mood so I just freehanded that beoch. Pencil first then in pen.
Take your text block out from under your brick. Line it up against the score mark and mark the second score on the other side of the spine
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Fold the score and glue the textblock into the cover at the spine. Once the glue dries up mark the back cover with the pencil and then trim the back cover to fit with your scissors.
Voila:
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I’m going to put this baby on the shelf next to the Silmarillion.
The whole process, not counting drying time, took less than an hour.
If you want to make a book of a longer fic, I recommend Renegade Publishing, they have a ton of resources for fan-binders. 
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slttygeto · 7 months
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SWEAR IT’S JUST RIGHT FOR YOU. | NANAMI. K
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જ⁀➴ synopsis: when you and nanami are equally as obsessed with each other, it creates this perfect balance. you cook for him, and he treats your pussy like it’s a blessing.
જ⁀➴word count: 3,3k
જ⁀➴ c.w: pure filth with a bit of fluff, soft dom! nanami, he turns a bit rough towards the end, rough facefucking, cunnilingus + fingering, dirty talk + praise, riding, multiple orgasms + squirting.
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When Nanami praises you, it’s soft, gentle and endearing. His rough palm gently collides with the soft skin of your jaw and his thumb traces your cheek. He is reminding you of how much you mean to him, how he would burn the entire world if it meant keeping you safe and protected. You are his fairy, his delicate girl whom he could never imagine even raising his voice at. When he scolds you, his voice is stern and filled with worry despite the displeased tone, his hand grabs at your shoulder not to hurt you, and you want to caress your thumb over his forehead and get him to stop furrowing his eyebrows so deeply.
“You’ll get wrinkles, Ken.” Your voice pulls him out of his displeased state for a moment, and Kento hears birds chirping outside of the window and the sunbeam caresses your skin—It hits your beautiful eyes and he takes in every detail; your eyebrows, the slight discoloration the bottom of your jaw, the mole that seems to bring out the beauty in you even more, your eyelashes that aren’t curled but naturally have a pretty shape to them and he heaves out a sigh. He is consumed by love wherever you are near.
Heaven knows how much the man craved domesticity. He found comfort in it—a routine, a promise that when he comes home, he gets to take off his brown shoes at the front door, put his keys in the small bowl that has a mirror hanging right above it. He would then look at his reflection in the mirror and look away immediately when he notices the sweat stains as he removes his jacket. He hears your footsteps as you rush out of the kitchen with a pretty apron around your waist. You made bread, and Nanami isn’t sure whether to be infatuated by the smell of it, or the smell of your hair that hits his nostrils as you wrap your arms around his waist.
He wouldn’t care that your hair is slightly damp, but he would breathe out how the tank top you were wearing was going to get you sick if you don’t watch out. And Kento cares a lot about your comfort, he respects you a lot, so when you hug his sweaty self, his hands would gently try to remove your arms from around him and protest that he was dirty.
“It’s all hard work, Ken. I like it.” To which he wouldn’t say much but give in and let you hold him. He understands that to an extent, having a natural smell like this was attractive, he’s always told you that he likes it when you come home complaining about sweating too much and all he says is that it makes you even more attractive. Your flushed cheeks, your hair sticking up in small antennas, your nose scrunching up at how disgusting it feels to have your shirt cling onto your skin—
“Can I join you in the shower?” Which always catches you off guard, but you accept of course and Nanami sets his book down, he removes his glass and folds them neatly on top of the book before following right behind you in the bathroom. You giggle nervously when you see him close the door and lock it before leaning against it, and you let out a small and timid ‘what?’ when he keeps eyeing with the same intense eyes.
“You are beautiful.” He never denies that he is looking at you—admiring you, but instead reminds you every time that nothing in the world can change his mind about his infatuation with you.
And somewhere in between that comforting thought of coming home to you, a show playing on TV in the living room, bread baking in the oven and the smell of a clean home—Nanami dreams of fucking you stupid on the couch. He wouldn’t remove your apron, he wouldn’t let you wash your hands off of the flour—he would simply drop his pants, push your shorts down and spread your legs only to find out that you weren’t wearing any panties.
He feels sick to his stomach at thought, sighs and rubs his forehead at the fact that he was imagining such dirty things to do with you. If it were a normal fantasy like coming home and fucking you on the bed, he wouldn’t feel that bad. But that was the thing about fantasies, they existed in our head without our control, and it was up to us to act out on them or not. Kento cherished you too much to scare you off with his oh-so-called sick and twisted fantasy of his.
He comes home after a long day at work, and it’s a few minutes past seven. The house isn’t quiet, there is a show playing in the background and that was the first thing that had Kento stop dead in his tracks. He chooses to brush it off and simply rids himself of his jacket and shoes, sets his keys on the bowl before the smell of bread hits his nostrils and his lips part in confusion.
Was he dreaming? Did he somehow astral project into another dimension where his fantasy was a reality? It only confuses him further when you come out of the kitchen wearing an apron—in this reality though, you’ve chosen to wear one of his shirts instead, and Nanami doesn’t know if it’s better or worse. He tries to hide it, the way he can feel his cock hardening in his pants as you approach him with his shirt, fuzzy socks and hands that had traces of flour on them.
“You’re home.” Is how you greet him, your cheek resting on his chest and melting against his body as you breathe in his scent, a constant reminder that you get to be greeted with this sight five times a week around the same time. You boyfriend’s hand travels up to the back of your head and his fingers comb through your hair as he hums a tired response.
“Did you miss me?” Obviously, is what you want to say. But instead, when you look up at him and notice his hooded eyes, you feel his other rest on the small of your back and your heart leaps in your chest. All of a sudden, you feel hot and you feel something poking at you and you’re just surprised.
It was normal for your boyfriend to have needs, you were used to the sexual frustration that comes with having such a stressful job—but normally, Kento would avoid initiating anything with you until he’s showered and made sure he was clean. For him to insinuate that he wanted you, and so loudly with those eyes—you could feel your panties getting ruined.
“Pretty girl,” he calls out for you again when he notices your silence and the hand resting on your waist holds your chin whilst the other firmly grabs your hair. “Did you miss me?” He asks again, stern and you nod. You missed him too much, you realize. Because the lack of conversation beside greeting him and telling him he’s home—all of it was intensifying the sexual tension. It was almost like your body was warning you that Kento wasn’t going to go easy on you this time and you felt jittery.
“I missed you, Kento. Did you miss me?” You say as your hands grab onto his blouse in fists. You bring him closer to you, and gasp when you feel his hand travel down to hold your neck. He isn’t trying to cut your air, but when you make eye contact with him and see that his face has darkened, you let out a small noise.
“Let me show you instead.”
On the couch, Nanami wastes no time to attach his lips to yours and kiss you breathless. He was such a good kisser, always so passionate, always making sure to tease the corner of your lips before biting nibbling here and there—and fuck, did he lose his mind every time you tried to suck on his tongue. He would just push you on your back and cage you between his strong arms.
Nanami feels like he is constantly losing his breath whenever you are near, but when you grab onto his forearms and moan, he goes feral. Suddenly, he is reminded of how much weaker you are compared to him—frail, delicate, soft and sensitive to his touch. He is lucky, he is blessed and he makes sure to spoil you and that pretty pussy.
His kisses trail all the way down from your neck to your collarbones, his takes a whiff of your perfume and hums.
“You smell so sweet,” he mumbles against your skin. Instead of removing your apron and shirt, he pushes them up to reveal the cute panties that you were wearing and his finger traces the wet patch that’s already formed.
“Kento,” you call out to your boyfriend breathless, desperate—as though you were on a deserted island and he was the water to quench your thirst. Your legs spread on instinct for the man to settle between them and you feel his hot breath right against your panties.
“But you smell even better here… Right here,” he says and he pushes your panties to the side to reveal the wet mess hiding behind the fabric. You prop yourself up a bit higher to be able to look at Nanami while he eats you out, and you blush when you notice that he’s already staring at you.
“Up.” He pats your ass and you lift up your hips to allow him to remove your panties for you, but instead of throwing them on the floor, you see him take a whiff of the fabric and sigh and your blush darkens.
“Can I keep these, my love?” He asks sweetly, voice so deep you felt like your pussy was embarrassing you with how wet it was and you mindlessly nod. “Is that so?” He knew you wouldn’t say no, but he still wanted to thank you for trusting him with his perverted intentions.
“You’re too good for me.” Is the last thing that you hear from him before he dives between your legs and fuck—he is too good. You know Nanami is good, you don’t doubt that he can make you cum as many times as he wants before reaching his own high, but something about him eating your pussy like a treat, enjoying every drop and sucking on your clit with the intention of making you lose your mind—that was too much.
You feel his lips wrap around your clit and he sucks before smothering his face in your pussy. His nose nudges at your clit while his tongue licks at your folds and you think that for a moment, maybe he is enjoying this more than you do. His hands grip your thighs to keep them in place, and when he notices that your legs are starting to shake and your hips are bucking up, he takes one look at you and his dick almost bursts.
Flushed chest, swollen lips and a fucked out face. If Nanami wasn’t already in love with your beauty, then he feels himself falling deeper for you. You fall apart on his tongue a couple of seconds later, he enjoys the way you gasp, moan and cry as he keeps his lips attached to your clit and you try to push his head away.
“Too much,” you gasp. “Kento!” you cry out when you feel his two fingers nudge at your folds and by this point, you are breathing too hard. You feel his thick finger prod at that one spongy spot almost immediately and your eyes roll to the back of your head.
He presses a hand to your stomach and praises are spilling from his lips like a chant, watching as your soul almost escaped your body with every thrust of his thick fingers perfectly against your spot.
“That’s right baby, you’re doing so good,” “this pussy takes me so well,” “you make me so proud, look at this pussy—fucking filthy,”
The mixture of praise and him losing his composure and cursing has you reaching your orgasm again faster than expected. But this time, you make a bit of a mess and you try to apologize for ruining the couch and his clothes but he is quick to shut you up with his lips.
“You’ve just squirted on me, and you want to apologize?” he mumbles against your cheek, fingers still buried inside you and you whine.
“I made a mess,” you try to reason with your beast of a boyfriend but he quickly retreats his fingers back and delivers a harsh smack to your pussy.
“It’s never been a problem when it’s our bed, has it?”
“Kento,” you call out softly when your boyfriend starts to kiss at your neck again. “Kento, fuck my mouth.” Nanami’s brain short circuits at this and the shock is evident on his features. He doesn’t have time to stop you or protest because you are quick to get off the couch and on your knees for him.
“You’ve been so good to me, keeping me satisfied and happy—I bet you want to fuck my mouth sometimes, don’t you?” Your hands are quickly unbuckling his belt. You don’t remove his pants completely, only enough to free his painfully hard cock from his boxers. Your hand wraps around the base of his cock and you watch as he throws his head back on the couch with each slow stroke.
“You don’t know what you are asking for,” is what he says as he tries to get you to back out of this, but you are determined to let him ruin your life. Him, the only man on this planet whom you would blindly trust with your life.
“I know what I am asking for.”
“I could hurt you,”
“I will tap your thigh if you do,” and then there’s a few moments of silence where Kento just stares deeply into your eyes. When you see him lean down towards you, your breath catches in your throat and your lips part in shock when his hand goes to the back of your head and the other one grips your jaw open.
“Open up.” And when you do, he rests the fat tip of his cock on your tongue. The pre-cum is a bit salty but you don’t say anything as you let Kento handle your mouth to his liking. He tells you to open up a bit more and breathe before he starts to thrust his dick in and out of your mouth at a slow pace.
You’re taking it well at first, but when you notice your boyfriend’s thighs shaking, indicating that he is holding back on you, you decide to take matters into your own hands. Quite literally.
Your hand wraps around the base of his cock and you push his dick down your throat, nose nuzzling against his pubes and he curses out loud.
“Fuck--!” You repeat the same motion over and over again, and by the third time, your boyfriend finally breaks and starts fucking your mouth like a starved man. Your knees burn, and so do your lungs—the couch is moving every time Kento brings your head back on his cock and you’ve braced yourself on his thighs for support.
“Sorry—fuck, I’m sorry baby,” he says between gritted teeth. However, when his eyes catch that you’re rubbing your swollen clit to the same rhythm of your head on his cock, something in him snaps.
He pushes you off of his cock, and any complaint you head is drowned out when he stands up and his cock stands proud. You look up at him from your spot on the floor and brace yourself on his thighs again when you feel him grab your face and push his cock inside your mouth.
“Filthy fucking girl,” he breathes out. “Can’t even let me be sweet to you—shit,” based on how difficult it is to even talk properly, you guess that he is close and so you sneak a hand between his legs and starts fondling with his balls—you squeeze them, and that’s when Nanami finally breaks and cums down your throat with a broken moan.
Even while trying to catch his breath, Nanami’s hands caress your face and neck as he takes a seat and pulls you closer to him. He then helps you get back up on your feet and pulls you on his lap to kiss you. He can taste himself on your tongue even after you’ve swallowed everything.
“Was I good?” You ask when he pulls away from your lips to kiss your cheek and down your neck once again, a pattern that he’s learned always turns you into putty.
“Perfect, my love. You are perfect for me.”
You are surprised at how fast he gets hard again, but you supposed it’s also because you were literally grinding your bare pussy against his dick. Your hands hold onto his shoulders for support as you try to slip his dick past your folds, but you let out a surprised noise when he easily lifts you up and aligns the tip of his cock with your pussy.
“Noticed that you like my arms a lot,” he says and you are obliged to stare at his forearms and good lord—the way they flex as they hold you above his cock, Nanami lets out an amused chuckle when he sees a string of arousal drip directly on top of his cock. “You do like them, huh?”
“Baby,” you whimper and Kento cannot find it in him to tease you any longer. He gently drops you down on his cock and he immediately gets to work. His hand rests on the small of your back and pushes you towards him to press your chest flush against his, his hands then grip your ass cheeks and he starts to slam you up and down on his cock with so much ease.
You sound like a mess. The combination of your boyfriend’s strong arms and the tip of his thick cock abusing your spot turns you into a blabbering mess on top of him.
“So good, so good—fuck, oh fuck,” sounded like music to his ears. Your whines your moans, your fucked out look and your eyes begging him to ruin you—Nanami was addicted to every part of you.
And it only takes a few more messy and sloppy thrusts from him and you cum around him with a loud cry.
“There you go,” he says breathlessly, feeling his own orgasm creeping up on him. “Make a mess on me, baby,”
You shake like a leaf on top of him, hands gripping onto his shirt for dear life and lips pressed against his neck.
“Think you can take a bit more for me? I’m really close, darling,”
“Hurry up,” you say desperately and as promised, Kento thrusts a few more times before he is cumming inside you with a loud groan. He buries his face in your neck, taking in your scent that has now been mixed with his own and a hint of sweat. He relaxes in your hold, hand tracing the small of your back as a way to get you to come down from your orgasm and perhaps even apologize for being a bit rough with you earlier.
All of his worries are brushed off when you pull away from him to press a kiss to his forehead, his nose then down to lips.
“I love you, Ken. I love you too much,” you announce, a hint of sleepiness to your voice and a smile finds its way to his face.
“I love you too, darling. I love you too much.”
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2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.
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whateveriwant · 23 days
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SFW Size Difference HCs with Simon
F!Reader, NSFW version
He loves to use your head/shoulders as a resting spot. All the time you’ll be cooking, sorting through the mail, etc. and he’ll come up behind you, wrap his arms around your waist, and place his chin on the top of your head to watch what you’re doing
After you drive his car, you always have to remind yourself to adjust the seat back for him. You can tell when you’ve forgotten because the next day his knee is all bruised after having bashed it against the steering wheel
You’ve discovered kissing him is easiest when you’re elevated somehow (e.g., sitting on the kitchen counter). Otherwise you have to work around tippy toes and neck strains
Of course, you’re no stranger to using step stools/ladders to grab something that’s high up. But now that you’re dating a literal giant of a man, he’s become your personal slave that you make fetch things that are out of your reach
That being said, don’t get on Simon’s bad side because he will use his height to his advantage. You mouth off at him? Have a bit of an attitude with him? Yeah, he’s hiding your favorite snacks on the top of the fridge
Because his hands are so much bigger than yours, you can never interlock your fingers together when holding hands. You just have to settle for palm against palm :(
Don’t even worry about your feet potentially getting tired around him. The moment you start to complain about your sore feet, he’s immediately picking you up and carrying you either bridal style or piggy back (I wanna be his lil backpack)
“His” jumper? Nay nay. Our jumper, because you’re constantly raiding his closet to wear his shirts/sweaters like dresses
His size makes him like a human furnace, so whenever it’s cold, you just need to shiver a little and he’s unzipping his coat to let you nuzzle against him
Every time you go to a restaurant that has high tables, he jokes about getting you a booster seat like a little kid (but he secretly finds it adorable when you kick your feet back and forth when they don’t reach the ground)
99% of the time, he’s the big spoon when you cuddle. And though he would never admit it, that 1% of the time when the roles are reversed are actually his favorite 🥺
Concerts are a blast for you because you get a great view from your perch on his shoulders. As for the people standing behind you, well… Let’s just say it’s a good thing your boyfriend knows how to fight
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reiderwriter · 29 days
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Isn't She Pretty, Daddy?
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Teacher f!Reader
Summary: You're a little bit worried about one of your brightest students recently, so you call her Dad to come in for a meeting. Her absolutely adorable - and single - Dad.
Warnings: the birds and the bees as explained by a kindergardener. Some angst about being a single parent.
A/N: Here's another entry for @imagining-in-the-margins Kid Fic Challenge! Dad Spencer has my heart, and I've been in a really fluff forward mood this weekend, evidently! I think I have one more Kid Fic left to go before the end of the challenge, but we'll see what the will of the fanfiction gods is...
Masterlist
If you were to be asked what the hardest part of being a teacher was, you would, without question or even a second to think, have an answer. Parents. The worst part of teaching is talking to parents. 
Little kids were easy to talk to. They asked questions if they didn't understand things clearly, and they didn't typically say things they didn't mean. Adults were the opposite, and it just so happened that all of your kids' parents were adults. 
Including your most recent problem  child. 
You were used to the kids in your class having some behavior issues - for one, they were kids, it was to be expected that their little bodies couldn't quite handle all of the emotions they were feeling at once. But you were doubly struck by your school area being close to Quantico, meaning half the kids in your care had families with law enforcement backgrounds. 
Absent parents plus growing bodies plus normal kid stress equalled attachment issues, and your problem child Harper Reid was one of your more worrying cases. 
You really hoped everything was okay in the Reid household, so you'd called the little girls parents. She was lovely - honest to god - one of the sweetest little kids you'd ever met. 
Every day she came to school with some older kids and their mom, carpooling on the way in, so you had yet to meet her parents, but you thought that anyone who could produce something that sweet and cute and brilliant couldn't possibly be a bad person. 
You didn't know what to expect, so when her little pigtails peaked around the corner and she came running in, you were momentarily filled with anxiety. 
“MOMMY!” The little girl yelled, launching herself into your arms as soon as she spotted you behind your desk. 
“Hi, Harper! Hi, you must be, Mr. Reid-”
“Doctor, actually, um, but that doesn't really matter. I'm so sorry about this, Harper doesn't usually tackle people.” 
The 3ft tall ball of energy had managed to crawl into your lap and wrap her arms around your neck, so you had to pick her up when you stood to greet her dad. 
“Will your wife be joining us for the meeting today?” You asked, already used to Harper's hugs and general closeness. 
“Oh, no. No, she's not coming. She, uh, doesn't exist. Single father.” 
“Oh my god, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to assume, it's just not on my files-” 
“It's okay, it's a …bit complicated.” 
You took your seat at the desk and gestured to the man to do the same. Finally, looking at him for the first time now that some of your anxiety had died down, you couldn't help but think that Doctor Reid was incredibly attractive. It wasn't one part of his face that stuck out to you as being particularly pretty, just the entire ensemble of it together that took your breath away. Either that of Harper was gripping you so tight she was restricting your ability to breathe, and considering a five year old is not a boa constrictor, this was all dad's fault. 
“So, you said on the phone Harper's been having some problems at school?” 
You snapped your attention back to the issue at hand, searching for the relevant files and pictures you wanted to show the man. Harper turned herself around in your lap and looped her arms around your arm, pulling it in close to use as a pillow. 
“Isn't Miss Y/N so pretty, Daddy?” You froze and flushed in an instant, suddenly so aware of the man's eyes on you. You weren't sure if you were thankful or even more embarrassed that Harper's dad seemed to be even more flushed than you. 
“Daddy? Isn't she pretty?” Harper insisted, and you realized that you both weren't going to get out of this without him answering. 
“Yes, angel. Miss Y/N is very pretty.” The little girl smiled in triumph and nuzzled into your arm even more, happily curled up into your lap like a cat. 
“Hey, Harper. We got a new puzzle delivered yesterday. It's got My Melody and Cinnamaroll on it. They're your favorites, right?” 
The little girl nodded in glee, eyes shining as she hung on your every word. 
“How about you go over to the play area and get it started, and then me and your daddy will come over and help you finish it?” 
In a flash, she'd hopped up out of your lap and wriggled away, shouting a quick “You promised, right?” behind her as she went. 
“I'm so sorry about that, I don't know what's gotten into her, she's usually very shy and-”
“Doctor Reid, it's fine. That's just why I called you in today. Teachers and parents are a team, right, we work together to make sure the kids grow up well, you don't need to apologize to me for that.” 
The man seemed to take a deep breath and nod, to regain his wits about him for a second. 
“Is she… this attached in her regular classes?” 
“Well honestly, she was a bit like that at the beginning of the semester, but she grew out of it after a while. In the last week or so, she fell back into it, and now she's calling me ‘Mommy,’ too. I was wondering if anything happened recently at home that could've led her in this direction, or…”
The man looked a little bashful, but there was a twinge of sadness in his expression that you recognised all too well. 
“Harper, uh, doesn't have a Mom. I adopted her, and it's a long story, but... She's been asking me to get her one recently, because she doesn't really understand all that well? I'm sorry, I didn't know she'd do something like this. I should've done a better job at home-” 
“Doctor Reid, raising a child is hard. It's so hard that humans usually do it in communities, or at least in couples. You're doing it alone, and Harper is already one of the smartest and most empathetic little girls I know. You're doing your job as Dad just fine.” 
The man smiled at you and looked down, quickly wiping away a tear as you gave him a moment of privacy. 
“So. If nothing at home set Harper off, we should probably go and ask her why she's calling me mommy, right?” 
You stood, and he stood with you, leaving his satchel next to his chair and unbuttoning his jacket. 
“Great. Sure, let's go see.”
Walking to the back of the room, you both smiled quietly, looking at the small girl. The 100 piece puzzle you'd guided her to was neatly arranged on the desk, pieces split into edges and centre pieces as she slowly looked at each one with a quietly focused face. Each time she found the piece she was looking for, her smile was bright as she connected it to the small part she was working on. 
“Mommy! Daddy! I can't find the melody's face, can you help me?” 
“Sure, Harper, we'll help you.” You moved to sit beside her at the tiny desks, giggling when the older Reid on Harper's other side struggled to fit himself in the toddler sized chairs. 
Harper assigned you roles, and you all started quietly doing your jobs, waiting for Harper to focus again so you could ask her questions without agitating her. 
“Harper, can you tell your Daddy why you call me Mommy?” 
“Sure! You're Mommy because I want you to marry with Daddy.” 
If you weren't already still flushed from her earlier comments, you certainly were lightheaded with embarrassment now. 
“Harper, that's not how it works-” 
“Yes, it is, Daddy! Henry said so. He said his mommy and daddy were sad one day, but then they were together again and they had a big party called a wedding and now they're happy, and that's why we have Michael.” You didn't quite follow from all the names and the story events, but it was evident that Reid did, so you waited quietly for his explanation. 
“My friend. Her son was at her wedding a few years back. They have another son who is a couple years older than Harper, they come to school together?” 
Your mouth made a small ‘o’ as you slowly filled in the blanks. 
“Harper, you want daddy to have a wedding so he isn't sad anymore?” 
The little girl gave a big nod and a smile, like she was so happy that she was finally being understood. 
“Miss Y/N should marry daddy because he thinks she's pretty. Henry said that was important for a wedding, your mommy has to look beautiful.” You made eye contact with Doctor Reid awkwardly as she spoke, both of you looking away for fear of seeing the embarrassment on each others faces. 
“And Miss Y/N wants a baby. So I will be Miss Y/N's baby, so everyone can be happy!” Harper's kid logic was a little hard to find fault with, but you still had to push back a little. 
“Harper, why do you think I want a baby?” 
“Angie asked you, and you said," the girl pouted, almost frustrated woth habing to answer all these silly questions.
"She asked you why you don't have a baby, and you said that you can only have a baby if you're married and that you wanted to have a baby when you were married. So marry my dad, and I'll be your baby!” 
Harper's smile was so happy and content that you really didn't want to spoil her dream just yet. You continued putting the puzzle together for a few minutes in silence, the full picture nearly being complete now. Harper seemed to fidget a little in her seat next to you, pushing closer and closer to you before tugging on your sleeve. 
You leaned down and she whispered in your ear - though you didn't doubt that her dad heard every word. 
“If you really want, I'm sure we can get another baby like Henry got Michael. I'll ask my dad, but I think it's allowed.” 
The poor man on the other side of the desk had to cover his face with his hands to stop the blush from showing, devolving to just straight up resting his head on the desk when his daughter kept going. 
“A boy is okay, but my dad doesn't really know about boy stuff. Uncle Derek says that my daddy is just a pretty boy with a book brain. We should get another girl, so daddy can be not worry.” 
The more you listened to Harper's adorable family plan, the more you just wanted to squeeze her tight and say yes and give her everything she wanted. 
“Miss Y/N, once again, I'm so sorry for everything, I'll talk with Harper at home about this.” 
“It's okay, I actually find it all very sweet,” you laughed a little and smiled back at him. 
“No, I'm sure your boyfriend would be so uncomfortable if he knew that she was trying to marry you off-” 
“Doctor Reid, are you trying to ask me if I'm single?” 
The small grin that quirked his lips up was nothing if not unfair. He really was a very pretty boy. 
“It was that obvious?” 
“Yep.” You made sure the ‘p’ popped a lot as you both shared a small laugh. Harper looked up between you and smiled, too. 
“So, can you get married now? Henry said you can do it really quickly, like in Grandpa Rossi's garden, and then you can go and do the secret part at home while Auntie Penny looks after me.” 
“Secret part?” 
“To make the other baby, silly!” 
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chuluoyi · 1 month
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࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 11:07 P.M 」
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divorce scare apology fic🤞🏻 yes people, in the spirit of april 1, it’s gojo who is having dreams :)) and i promise you it’s straight up comfort fic~
a part of gojo's love entries
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you’ve known something is bugging satoru as he hasn’t been teasing the heck out of you for these past three days.
and you were proven true when tonight, on your marital bed, he said—
“so… i’ve been thinking…” he started, seemingly deep in thought, playing with your hair. “oh, more like it’s because of this one bad dream…”
“what are you on about?” you raised an eyebrow. okay, you knew something was up with him, but him being a bit skittish made you a bit worried.
“umm, yeah. so, the other day i had this dream about us in tokyo district court—”
“district court—?”
“—getting a divorce, yeah.”
your eyes rounded, and satoru could feel himself almost regretting his words seeing your stunned expression, so he added a band-aid—
“no, it was just a dream! i’m not divorcing you, okay?!”
however, your expression had soured, as you looked down, visibly heartbroken. alarmed, satoru immediately pulled you to his chest.
“oh, ooh— there, there,” he soothed you, stroking your hair. “sweets, no. never. okay? i’m just telling you, just like what you did the other day.”
you had a dream of him cheating on you once, but this was wholly different.
“you’re the worst,” you accused, and despite yourself, you felt an ache in your chest. “how could such thought even cross your mind— that you dream about it?”
“if i can pick my dream… i’ll pick the memory from our honeymoon— precisely when i ripped your black and pink lingerie off and made you scream my name, you know that.”
you huffed, burying your face in his chest. “hmph. explain.”
satoru smiled, finding you so incredibly precious. silly wifey.
he proceeded as he pat your back. “nothing really, i’m still bitter too! no way in hell! but then i started thinking… what would you do in 0.001% chance of us being divorced?”
you pulled away, growling. “…so there’s still a chance—!”
“noooo! that’s statistically impossible! aren’t we having a late night talk? we’re always talking about imaginary scenarios at night, aren’t we?!”
what was the point of this? it was only upsetting you with each second.
“how could you ask me that?” you glared at him resentfully. “if we’re divorced, then—” you grabbed his hand and placed it on your belly. “what about baby? do you not want to see him anymore?”
and in that moment it seemed like he just realized it too as he sheepishly scratched his head, mouth gaping. “ah—”
his response caused your hormones to stir, and combined by your disbelief, you spitefully threw his hand away and turned to your side, refusing to face him.
“if you dare to divorce me, i’ll move out japan at a moment’s notice,” you spat out, crossing your arms. “i won’t let you see my baby— and i’ll put a restraining order on you too, just so you see.”
“whoa, wait—”
“or i can also jump from yasohachi bridge and then become a curse—i’ll haunt you to your dying days!”
“—?! you can’t do that!”
“oh, i can also remarry! i’ll marry ichiji so fast and by the time the baby is born, your kid will have his name instead!”
“ichi— hey! that’s insulting! i would’ve forgiven if it was nanami, but ichiji?!”
“shut up! you’re— you’re annoying!”
in hindsight, this wasn’t something you should get this much worked up for. satoru was obviously just being his dense self and you knew it, but somehow the thought of him suddenly not by your side anymore hurt you— and perhaps your unstable hormones played a part too.
. . . but then his strong arms wrapped around you in that instant, enveloping you in his warm and reassuring embrace from behind. “hey… sweets, don’t be mad…”
“…”
“if you do, baby will also be—”
“you are making us mad.”
“okay, okay.” satoru sighed, his right palm reaching out to caress your five-month baby bump, and his voice was tinted with slight regret as he replied, “sorry…”
you melted a bit, but still gave him the cold shoulder, showing how cross you were that he brought it up in the first place.
and both of you stayed that way for a while, and you started to get sleepy, until you heard him muttering—
“still… whatever you do,” his voice sounded strained, and it made you awake again. “even when i’m not here… you can’t get yourself hurt, alright?”
“what does that mean?” you finally turned towards him, your eyes shone with slight panic. “what do you mean with you not being here?”
“nothing, sweetheart.” satoru grinned, pinching your cheek. “just saying—since i’m away often, don’t do anything reckless, you can get hurt.”
“don’t put it as if you’re going to go some place far away.” you didn’t know what you were spouting now, but you were tired and just didn’t want to pursue this conversation any longer.
you bit your lip, not looking at him. “or… i’ll get sad.”
seeing you so vulnerable and open like this made satoru realize that as much as he needed you to stay sane, you also needed him. the clarity stirred something within him, causing warmth to rapidly spread in his chest.
and he felt soft. so soft for you. and he adored you, more than anyone else in this wretched world.
“aw, look at my baby girl.” your husband cradled you close to him with a wide grin, patting you soothingly, his heart fluttering. “how can i leave you be a single mother? i’m here, yeah? always.”
and you believed him. otherwise, you were willing to risk it all just to get him home, by your side.
you smushed your face into his chest, ignoring your burning face. “hmph, being a single mother isn’t that bad. i can still drain your wealth.”
“huh?! wait, you just said you’ll be sad without me!”
and you thought, being in his embrace is the most comforting place of all.
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epilogue
“by the way, i just realized…” satoru fixed his frown on you accusingly in the next morning. “how is your taste in men so bad? why ichiji as your first pick?”
“uh,” you were at a loss of words, totally not expecting this discussion on a brand new morning. “because… he’s kind? he’s easiest to sway—”
“so you’re saying… you can seduce him easily?!”
“…sort of? but you’re right, i should go for nanami. he’s way good-looking. or his apprentice… what’s his name again? ino takuma—”
“nanami? ino?! wait a minute…! y-you’re my wife… but you’re also thinking about which man is easier to seduce and which is more attractive?!”
“uh— you’re the one asking first!”
“still! so you do think about them! about weaker, lesser men who are not me!”
“nanami is not—!”
“hoh?! so it’s nanami, huh!?”
“don’t you dare to start anything, gojo satoru,” you hissed. “you said my taste in men is bad. so that includes you too.”
“wha?!”
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