#this thing i can actually just press it down and melt it at the same time. so lovely

[starcursedluvrs]

"TALK"

I suguru x pregnant!reader

“And I’d be the immediate  Forgiveness  In Eurydice.  Imagine being loved by me.” 

part I of suguru x pregnant!reader (this isn’t completely canon compliant, and will probs be 3 or 4 parts and will go up to December 24th, 2017 on the current JJK timeline).  

summary: you loved suguru more than anything in this world. and you could argue he felt the same for you. actually, he would end the world for you. so, he took you with him the night he defected, and you happily obliged. however, in the midst of the chaos of leaving your life behind, two little lines appear on a certain test causing you to rethink your entire plan. 

A/N: heyyy!! i'm arden!! this is my first try at ever posting the fanfic I’ve written so please enjoy! I started this specific fic as a hobby back in December, and I finished it a little over a month ago (I’ve just been kinda nervy to post hehe) so here goes nothing! likes, reblogs, and comments are highly appreciated <3

MINORS / AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED. 

warnings!: SPOILERS FOR GOJO’S PAST ARC. THIS IS A PREGNANCY FIC! 18+. nsfw. f!reader. suguru and reader are over the age of 18. explicit sexual content. unprotected sex/oral (f!receiving). breeding kink. fingering. creampie. pregnancy. unplanned pregnancy. lactation kink. mentions of child abuse. cute domestic fluff hehe. 

wc: 14.5k

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September 2007 

4:27 PM (16:27)

“Wait…so what are we doing again?” you asked, riding atop one of Suguru’s many curses. You were straddling the pink alien-looking curse, legs dangling off either  side. One of Suguru’s large hands held your waist steady while the other controlled the motion of the cursed spirit. His chin was buried in the crook of your neck, so that he had easy access to press kisses into your skin. 

Suguru left a line of sweet pecks down your shoulder before answering. 

“This village in the sticks was reported to have kidnappings and abnormal deaths. Shouldn’t be anything unusual,” he said nonchalantly. 

You leaned back against him so that you could look up into his honey irises, pouting. His hand left your waist, moving comfortably behind him to support both of your weight. 

“Then why did you ask me to come along? Seems like you could handle it yourself, you’re a special grade. I’m only a semi grade-one,” you reasoned, reaching up to play with his stray bangs. He grabbed your hand before you could reach his neat, inky bun, pressing light kisses into your knuckles. 

“Well, if all goes well, maybe we can find a hotel or do something nice. Charge it to the school and say it took longer than we expected, so we get to stay somewhere overnight without waking Satoru,” Suguru replied, smirking a bit on the last line of his speech. 

“I like the way you think, my love,” you beamed, melting into his touch. 

… 

January 2007 

You and Suguru had been in a committed relationship for the past nine months, and friends for even longer.  You started secretly fucking around at the beginning of your third year at Jujutsu High. You had always been attracted to him, but given your tiny class size and the complexity of Jujutsu Society, you didn’t want to cause any drama or make things weird between you two. 

Well, life doesn’t always go to plan. 

Especially that one night at the beginning of your third year when you, Shoko, Satoru, and Suguru broke into Yaga’s liquor cabinet, stole two bottles of sake, and got a little handsy. With your judgment impaired, you might have let it slip that you thought Suguru was very attractive and often wondered how his sculpted body would feel beneath his Bontan pants and uniform shirt. The thought was reciprocated by the raven head. 

One thing led to another, and the next morning, you woke up in a tangled mess of inky black hair and bedsheets. Suguru just held you, keeping your body close to his, whispering sweet nothings into your ears. It was nice, you did not have to say anything to fill the comfortable silence that had fallen upon you two. 

Eventually, he placed a kiss on your forehead and started to pull his clothes on from the previous night. 

Last night. Was last night a mistake? 

Should you have let Suguru taken you out to dinner or something before he fucked you into tomorrow? 

“Wait…Sug hold on.

What does this mean? 

For us? Our friendship?” you asked in a panic before Suguru reached the door. 

“It doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to,” he replied in his calm, collected tone, looking at the floor with his back to you. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you sat up, still covered by the soft sheets, pulling your knees into your chest, slightly offended. 

“Just that we don’t have to make a big deal out of this if we don’t want to. We also don’t have to do this again if you don’t want to. I know this could complicate things if we keep at it,” he paced around to face you again, the distance still rather daunting.

“Okay.” 

“Cool.”

The comfortable silence from before slowly turned awkward. 

“Um…thanks,” you offer. 

“…for…what?” Suguru inquired. 

“Last night. It was…fun,” you flashed him an unsure smile. 

A deep rumble came from his chest as he chuckled, “Yeah, let’s see how much fun you have walking today. See ya in class,” before leaving the room.

“SUG-“ you called after him, blushing at the cheesy line as he left the room, disappearing back into the cocoon of sheets. 

…

March, 2007 

You tried to keep your distance from him. Being a child of the Kamo clan, you were probably destined to be forced into some relationship that benefitted Jujutsu society, and not your happiness. This was just one of the many things that you hated about Jujutsu Society. Therefore, Suguru was all that more enticing to you. 

You found yourself perched on Suguru’s desk the next week. Your legs were spread wide, held apart by his large hands to assure you didn’t squirm around too much and get away from him. Suguru was lapping at your folds like a man starved. He dragged his tongue up and down your slit, and worked his way up to your clit, giving it a little kiss and suck. 

“Ngh Suguru. More.” You moaned, bucking your hips up to his face. 

“That’s not how we ask,” he replied, pulling away. 

“Suguru. Please.”

“What happened to complete sentences?” Suguru pressed one of his large thumbs to your nub, holding pressure, but refrained from moving it. 

“Fuck YOU Suguru I-“ 

“That’s what I’m trying to do, doll. You’re just not behaving.” 

He started to swirl his thumb around gently. It wasn’t enough to make you cum, but the pleasure was still intense. 

“Suguru please, I need som-something inside. Fingers. Yours. Please.” You croaked out, your head going dizzy with pleasure. 

“Awww, what’s wrong? Can’t think straight?” He said, plunging his slickened digits, adorned with a few silver rings, right into your core. 

“At least you said please, so I guess I’ll let you cum this time,” Suguru voiced in that smooth, sultry voice of his. 

He started moving those two digits back and forth in a “come here” motion, not giving you a chance to adjust to their circumference. A lewd squelching noise filled the room as he continued his ministrations. “You’re being such a good girl for me, taking my rings and fingers so well. Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” 

You let out a loud moan, and Suguru immediately pushed his thumb in your mouth for you to suck on. That way, you wouldn’t draw attention to any unwelcome visitors who might be walking the halls of the school. 

“You don’t even have to answer with that pretty mouth, your body is answering for you. You’re so tight. Gods, you’re gorgeous.” he whispered into your ear. 

He put his mouth back on your clit to suck, and added a third finger. He kept thrusting it in and out, hitting that sweet spot that had you seeing stars, as if he had your g-spot memorized. 

If Sugru ended up drowning in your juices, he would die a happy man. He absolutely loved lapping up at your sweet pussy, the earthy scent intoxicating to him. 

Soon, you felt the familiar coil in the depths of your belly start to come undone, and your cunt fluttered around Suguru’s fingers, the stimulation becoming too much.

“Come apart f’me. I got you love. I got you. Cum f’me,” Suguru commanded in his pussy-drunk haze. 

You let go as your orgasm washed over you, relishing in the pure bliss as Suguru helped you through the aftershocks. When you came to, he captured your lips in a hungry kiss. You could still taste your essence on his tongue. 

The next night, you were folded over the same desk as he pounded into you with his fat length. The bathroom stalls. The pantry. Behind the bleachers at the field. You could not get enough of each other. 

You and Suguru both fell hard and fast for each other. His unwavering sense of morality, intelligence, and kindness towards others drew you even further into his grasp. The way he spoke, his scent of freshly done laundry, his loyalty to his friends; these were all things that you loved about Suguru Geto. He was one of a kind. 

As Jujutsu Sorcerers, you were well aware that your tomorrow was not guaranteed. Suguru made you feel alive, which, to you, was worth more than any amount of fame or glory that your clan could bestow upon you. He truly wanted to make the world a better place for you, and any future you might have together. On the third month of your official relationship, you confessed your love: 

“Suguruuuu,” you giggled as he kissed up your neck. 

You had been laying in Suguru’s bed, in the midst of a heated makeout session. Your back was pressed flat into the mattress, knees at an angle, and feet flat against the soft duvet. Suguru was positioned right on top of you, in between your knees. He held your face in both of his hands, and your arms clung to the back of his head, getting lost in the inky strands. 

“I love you.” He whispered, as if he was telling a secret. 

In lieu of an answer, you brought his head down into a deep, passionate kiss. Your tongues danced together for what seemed like forever and no time at all, until you broke the kiss and said, “I think I may love you more.” 

“Unfortunately, doll, that’s simply not true. I’d end the world for you.” 

You were hopelessly in love with Suguru Geto.    

…

May 2007 

“You have a list of baby names picked out? Dude you’ve been together for like a few months.” Shoko taunted, a cigarette tucked between her lips, clicking away on her silver flip phone. 

“Oh, come on Ieiri, I think every person has a baby name list.”

“I don’t.” Shoko deadpanned. 

“You’re a lesbian who has no desire for kids,” you shot back.

“Touché. I do have a cat name list, though, if that counts,” Shoko added.

“I think it does.” you replied. 

“Ugh, fineee, gimme the list,” said Shoko, already grabbing the journal out of your hand. After scanning through the list of names, Shoko looked up at you and burst into laughter.

“Ok, you cannot name your kid Shigure. Or Kyo. Or any character from Fruits Bask-“

“Yo, WHO’S having a kid” interrupted the lanky, white-haired person with blacked-out sunglasses and a mischievous smile. Suguru appeared next to Satoru, holding a basketball, running to kiss you hello. 

“NO ONE’S having a kid,” you replied. 

“Ok, wait I need to know, do either of you have baby name lists? I feel like every person has them.” 

Satoru sighed, and thought about the question for a second. Suguru sat on the ground and started rolling the basketball in the dirt. 

“I haven’t even thought about baby names. To be honest, kids are kinda hard to have when you’re a sorcerer. You have to go on missions and then come home and change diapers, no thanks. Like, what if it poops on you? Also, I kinda wanna spite the old geezers in my clan.” Satoru added.

“You raise an excellent point, Gojo. This is one of the reasons why I love being a lesbian. Less of a risk for accidents,” Shoko took a drag from her cigarette.

“I can’t be the ONLY person here who has a list,” you sighed. 

“Lemme see that-“ Satoru said as he grabbed your journal from Shoko’s grasp. 

“…These are just Fruits Basket and One Piece charact-” Satoru snickered. 

“Wait Satoru, have you read the new One Piece chapter yet? I heard it’s crazy.” Suguru cut in. 

“Oh, no not yet, I haven’t had a chance to get the new volume,” Satoru whined. 

“What are you doing right now? Wanna go pick up some coke from the vending machine, then get to that bookstore in Shinjuku and grab a copy?” Suguru explained with excitement. 

“Honestly, a coke sounds amazing right now. Either of you wanna come?” Satoru gestured to you and Shoko. 

“Nah, I think we’re gonna go steal some of Yaga’s booze,” Shoko informed. 

“Yeah, he’s on a mission for the next day or so. Might as well take advantage of it,” You said, a little defeated and disinterested. 

“…’kay see you guys later then.” Satoru said in a sing-songy voice. 

Suguru walked up to you, pressed a quick peck on your lips, and said, “I’ll be back. Love you.” 

But that wasn’t all.

Under his breath, so that no one else could hear, he whispered, “Don’t think this conversation is over yet, doll,” and walked away as if he hadn’t uttered anything. Your stomach was filled with butterflies and you felt your cheeks go hot as he walked away. 

… 

Later the same day, May, 2007

You were sitting on Suguru’s lap as he twiddled on his PS3 controller playing one of his games. Suguru was sitting on the floor, his legs criss-crossed while you leaned against his back, feeling his warmth though his clothing. You were sporting one of his large white t-shirts, wearing only your favorite pair of panties underneath. 

“Sug?” You question softly, turning around to face him. 

“Yeah, doll?” He replied not looking down from his game. 

“So…about that comment earlier. Why did you say the conversation wasn’t finished yet? And which one? About the One Piece chapter? Or the baby names? I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable asking that question, I was ju-“

Suguru paused his game and looked at you, a smirk on his face. 

“It did the opposite of making me uncomfortable, actually. It made me feel a little more normal, or as normal as we can be given our lifestyle. I have a baby name list too.” 

Your heart fluttered. Of course he did. 

“I saw the list over Satoru’s shoulder. And we actually had one name in common.”

“Which name?” 

“Riko.” He replied softly.

His answer made you happy and sad all at once. You wish you didn’t have that name on your list. Riko Amanai had meant so much to the both of you. She represented the freedom that you could have from Jujutsu Society, as well as everything that was broken and corrupt about it. Riko’s death is what radicalized the both of you. She set you both on a path to work towards a better world. 

For a moment, you thought about what your life would be with Suguru had you not been Jujutsu Sorcerers. You would probably get married as soon as you graduated, get a job somewhere. Buy a cozy house in the countryside. Make home cooked meals, have children, adopt some dogs. You would grow old together and not have to constantly worry about the fact that you could die a gruesome death in the morning. 

You were lying down on your side now, your back against Suguru’s chest. Suguru moved a hand under your shirt, to your stomach, slowly rubbing circles, drawing you out of your trance. 

“I love your tummy, it’s so cute” Suguru sighed into your ear. 

You giggled.

“What’s so funny about that, love?”

“I’m sorry that just sounded so funny in the moment.” 

“I don’t think it’s that funny, especially when my baby’s gonna be in there one day.”

He said it so nonchalantly and matter-of-factly that you thought you had misheard him. You blushed, hoping you didn’t mishear. 

“SUG-“ you turned around and gave a playful slap to his arm. 

After a pause of giggling from the both of you, Suguru just couldn’t let the topic get away from you. 

“Ya know, I think about it a lot,” he continued. 

“Think about what,” you questioned.

“Think about what our future would be like. A house that is actually full of love. And little feet running around.” 

“Tell me more,” you said against his lips. 

“Maybe we’d live in a really remote village away from everything Jujutsu related. We could get a little farm, raise some sheep, horses, chickens, crops. We could add to the world instead of just taking.” 

“Why do we have to wait for the future to do that? Money isn’t the issue here,” You answered, referring to the handsome compensation you receive for such a risky career path. 

“True, I could just fuck a baby into you right now.” 

“I was talking about the house, and you knew that.” You shot back, a laugh escaping your chest at an attempt to be serious. 

“That’s another thing I think about.” 

“What?” You were taunting him now. You wanted to see where this was going.

“You, your tummy all round with my baby. God, you look so good when you’re stuffed full f’me,” Suguru slurred. From the dim light of his paused video game, you could see that his pupils were blown with lust. He kissed you hard and messily, tongue intertwining with yours.

Suguru removed your (his) shirt and started to kiss down your body, landing at your breasts, hovering right over a nipple. 

“These would look so good with milk. So pretty and soft,” he purred, taking a nipple into his mouth. 

The warmth of his mouth felt so good against your pebbled nipples, you couldn’t help but let out a moan. He licked and sucked until you were a drooling, wet mess underneath him. 

“You like this, huh. Baby, I’ve barely touched you. And you’re already this worked up?” He taunted, moving to give attention to the neglected nipple. 

“What else?” you slurred, ignoring his question. He still hadn’t admitted it.

“Everyone would know who you belonged to. All because of me.” He continued, releasing the nipple from his mouth. 

His words sent shivers down your spine, and you felt your arousal start to pool uncomfortably in your underwear. You needed them off. 

“Suguru, what do you want?” you asked the obvious question, just wanting to hear him speak more on the topic. 

“I wanna stuff your pretty cunt full of cum ‘till you can’t take any more, doll,” he grumbled, grinding his impressive erection on your clothed cunt. 

“Wanna get you pregnant so bad,” he continued pressing feverish kisses down the length of your body. “You’ve been asking a lot of questions about what I want.” He made his way to your panties, “But, before I take these off, I need to know what you want.”

Your hole was clenching around nothing at his words, you were getting rather impatient. 

“Please touch me.” You whined. 

“Hmm, I have been touching you my love,” 

“Sugu- stop t-teasin-nghhh.” you moaned as one of his thick fingers started moving in a circular motion on your bud. Soon, one finger became two, and he moved them from your clit to your slick folds, swirling the juices around, occasionally ghosting your eager cunt. 

“Suguru gimme your dick,” you begged. 

“Baby, one, you can ask nicer than that, where are your manners? And two, I have to get you ready to take me first. Gotta make sure I can fit the most amount of cum in there as possible,” he let out a small moan on the last word. 

“Open your mouth, doll,” he commanded. 

You complied, opening your mouth as he stuck his two slickened fingers in, pushing them as far back as they could go. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see a dark stain forming on his gray sweatpants. He must have been impossibly hard. 

Your moans and gasps vibrated against his digits, and when he thought you had been teased enough, he finally offered you the sweet relief of his fingers filling you. Definitely not as large as his cock, but they reached the parts of you that you could not with your own hands. Suguru started thrusting in and out, curling his fingers along the way, hitting your g-spot with brutal precision.

“Sug-nghhh, I’m gonna-” 

“Shhh baby, you can let go for me, I got you. So good f’me.” 

With the thumb of his hand, he lightly stroked your clit, and you felt the familiar heat bubbling in your core. After a few more thrusts, and praises from Suguru, you were cumming all over his fingers. He helped you through your orgasm, your head full of wool as you came down from your high. Suguru brought his drenched appendages to his mouth and sucked, cleaning your fluids from his fingers.

“If only curses tasted this good. I can’t get enough of you.”

In your post-orgasm clarity, you realized that your boyfriend was still clothed. That wouldn’t do. You sit up, rummaging through sticky sweats and underwear to pull his dick out. A long strand of precum dripped from his tip, breaking away as you pulled him out of his boxers. His penis would never fail to surprise you; he was of average length, but so thick, you could barely close your hand around him. You wrapped two hands around his cock as your mouth watered at the beautiful sight before you. But, just as you were about to taste him, two of his strong hands pushed you back against the bed, forcing you off of his dick. 

“What was that for? I wanna suck you off,” you pouted.

“Sorry, doll. We can’t waste any cum,” he said as his nose ghosted against yours. 

“But I just wanted to make sure, you never said it out loud. Do you actually want this? Can I actually get you pregnant? Don’t wanna pressure you if it was just a kink.” He looked into your eyes with concern, needing your verbal confirmation to continue. 

“Suguru. Put a baby in me.” 

You think you broke your boyfriend after saying that. He let out a grunt from deep within his chest and grabbed a pillow from the pile that fell off the bed in during your earlier activities. He placed the pillow underneath your lower back and whispered choruses of “I love you,” on your skin. Suguru’s fingertips traced over your skin, eventually grasping your legs, throwing them over his shoulders. 

“I don’t deserve you, doll.” He pressed a quick kiss to your nose. 

“This is called a mating press,” Suguru explained as he grabbed his cock and lined up with your twitching hole. “I did some research as to what position would get you pregnant the fastest, and I think this one has a good success rate.”  He sounded so methodical in his explanation, which was so in character for him. Of course your Suguru would do research into this. He would do anything for you to make you happy. And you would do the same for him. 

When he pushes the head in, you both gasp at the contact. He kept sliding in until his balls slapped against your ass and your pelvic bones met. There was such little resistance, and you let out a sob as he bottomed out. 

“You ok, baby? You’re taking me like such a-a, nghhh- good girl. Feels like heaven in your pussy. My pussy.” It was so attractive when he got possessive over you, your ovaries felt like they were about to burst in more ways than one. 

“Sugu- ngh- move-“ 

Instead of moving, he licked the inside of your upper thigh, dragging his tongue impossibly slow to tease you. 

“NGH- plea-ahhh please,” you could feel tears pricking in the corner of your eyes. He made it so easy for you to fall apart. 

“Good girl, look at you using your words,” he sounded wrecked, his voice gravely with arousal. And with that, he began moving. At first, his thrusts were slow and deep; you could feel every vein and ridge on his dick. His balls slapped against the fat of your ass, creating an embarrassingly loud clapping sound that bounced off of the walls. It felt delicious. 

You weren’t just having sex - he was making love to you. It was emotional and sensual. The tears you felt earlier spilled over on to your cheeks as Suguru picked up the pace, his cock pistoning in and out. He kissed your tears away as you muttered broken moans of both his name and explicits. 

Suguru’s grip was surely going to leave bruises in the morning. One hand was holding your body in place around your waist, while the other kept your leg over his shoulder. He let go of your leg for a moment as he grabbed another pillow that was somewhere in reach, and gently slid it under your hips so that he could reach you at a deeper angle. Your vision went blurry. He was impossibly deep, you thought you could feel him rearranging your intestines. 

Finally, his thrusts started getting sloppier. You knew Suguru was close. 

“Gonna fuck my baby into you,” he half moaned. “Fuck, love, I’m close. Want ya to let go first,” and with that, he moved his possessive, bruising touch to rub your clit. After a few rotations around your nub, you let go, your vision going white as you came hard, your cunt clamping down on his cock.

The vice grip of your pussy is what finally sent him over the edge, and Suguru began to fill you up with his thick load. 

“Thank you, baby, thank you,” Suguru chanted, like it was a prayer, and you were the goddess who was receiving his offering. You laid like that for a while, him still inside, your hips tilted up to keep his cum inside of you. He left a trail of kisses down your sweat-drenched neck as his cock softened in your walls. 

After about fifteen minutes, you felt Suguru starting to fill out again, his body gearing up for round two. 

And then three.

And then four. 

You lost count of how many times you had cum that night. Your tummy sported a small bump with the amount of Suguru’s seed trapped in your womb. You were so full that you couldn’t possibly take any more. And Suguru loved you like that. 

Of course, he loved you always, but this was different. He took one of his large hands and gently massaged your sore, slightly swollen belly, pressing wet kisses all around. 

“I hope our baby looks like you,” you whispered into the crown of his head. 

“I was just thinking the same thing. I hope our baby at least has your eyes. I get lost in them sometimes,” he responded. “Ya know, your eyes are probably my favorite part of you, besides your tummy. And your beautiful brain. And every other part of you.” 

“I love you so much, Suguru. I don’t think I can put it into words. You’re such a good man, so good to me. You’re gonna be the best dad one day,” you confessed.

“Hopefully, that day will be soon,” he smirked, “I’m gonna go get you water and a hot washcloth to clean you up. Want anything to eat?” 

You smiled back at him and shook your head, blowing a kiss to him before he left. 

You expected yourself to be more freaked out by his comment, “hopefully, that day will be soon,” but you couldn’t help but feel excited. Life as a Jujutsu Sorcerer was so unexpected, you never knew when a mission was going to be your last. You decided it wouldn’t be a bad thing to have a little mini Suguru running around, allowing the three of you to finally have the family that neither you nor Suguru ever did. 

… 

August 2007

It was a disgustingly hot day outside. You were so sweaty, you felt your clothes sticking to you, and the humidity felt as if you were walking through a sauna. 

Since it was so unbearably hot outside, you and Suguru decided it would be a nice day to go to a water park. Of course, that meant Satoru and Shoko had to tag along. 

You and Suguru were in charge of packing, as the other two would not have chosen enough food or towels for your journey. They would probably also forget things like sunscreen and umbrellas, opting to fill your beach bags with bottles of booze and sweets. You and Suguru were practically the parents of the friend group at this point; sometimes the other two would even refer to you as “mom and dad.” Suguru would give you a smirk any time this happened, reminding you of the conversation you had back in May. 

After you fought Satoru on the fact that he could not in fact take an entire box of ice cream mochi to the water park, you were set to leave on your adventure. The four of you and your bags all piled in the car of an assistant director. Excitement and easy conversation flowed through the vehicle, as all of you relished in the relief of the cool air conditioning. 

Shoko sat in the front, smoking a cigarette, choosing which CDs to play, while you sat in the back with Satoru and Suguru. Suguru, being the gentleman that he is, gave you the seat behind the driver’s side. You tried to resist, explaining that he and Satoru would have more leg room if you just sat in the middle, but Suguru insisted. 

The four of you finally arrived at the water park about an hour and a half later. 

Maybe this was a bad idea. 

As you walked through the wooden gates, the park was swarmed with families, teenagers, and college students. There were colorful slides entangled in each other at the center of the park, with a lazy river surrounding it. To the left, there was a wave pool with people attempting to surf, and to the right, there was another large pool with buckets of water that would dump on patrons randomly. The lounge chairs were spread throughout the park, and it seemed like the entirety of Japan had come to this one water park to beat the summer heat. 

“Ok guys let’s stay together and try to find some lounge chai-” 

“Shoko! I’m gonna beat you down those slides, ready?” Satoru screamed with glee, like a young child. 

“Hold on, lemme finish this,” Shoko replied, motioning to her cigarette. 

“NO! We. Are. Going. To. Sit. Down. Let’s just stay together, it’s a madhouse here,” You put your foot down. 

“If I wanted to be mothered, mother, I would have gone home for the summer,” Shoko rolled her eyes at you. You just ignored her, too bothered by the heat to even come up with a good comeback.

“I sent out a curse to go find us a spot - wait. Where’s Satoru?” Suguru chimed in.

“Let’s be logical about this. Where is the nearest ice cream stand?” You asked. 

“Ha, there he is,” Shoko nodded her head towards the nearest ice cream stand. In the line of children, there was one with white hair who was almost as tall as the stand itself. Bingo. 

You marched over to the line, and went to tug Satoru by his ear back to the group. Alas, his Infinity was on, and you could not touch him. 

“Oof, I would not wanna be him right now, that one has a temper,” Shoko joked, as she put her cigarette out over the trash can next to them, watching you and Satoru argue. In that moment, Suguru couldn’t help but stare at you, taking in how beautiful you looked against the summer sun. You were glowing, radiant, even as you berated his best friend. 

“I haven’t seen you look at someone the way you look at her.” Shoko broke Suguru’s thoughts, pulling him out of his trance. 

“Yeah.” Suguru responded, smiling. 

“Wow, you didn’t even try to deny it,” Shoko smirked back. “OOooo someone’s in looovee,” Shoko teased. 

“I am. And I’m so lucky. I love her more than anything in the world,” Suguru said with a content sigh. 

“Ok, now you’re just gonna make me vomit, that’s so sappy,” Shoko stuck out her tongue, making a fake gagging sound. 

“It’s true,” Suguru responded, still in his trance.

“What if I can treat her better than you,” Shoko teased. 

“Maybe,” he said, the slightest flicker of insecurity in his eyes. “I don’t think I deserve her sometimes. She’s not as tainted by curses and cursed energy as I am. She’s not the one who absorbs curses day after day.” He looked tired. Shoko noticed the bags under his eyes, but just as she was about to say something, you came running with Satoru’s wrist in your hand, pulling him with an ice cream cone in his hand. The ice cream was beginning to drip everywhere.

“I can’t believe they only had vanilla. What a ripoff,” Satoru sighed, annoyed. 

“You dumbass, you didn’t even get napkins!? How am I supposed to call you a functioning adult, you’re literally about to turn 19, and you didn’t even get napkins?!” You berated him again.

“Oh, looks like the curse found a place for us to sit. It’s keeping the area clear so non-sorcerers aren’t determined to sit there,” Suguru interrupted. 

You all walked towards a little spot in the shade with three lounge chairs and a table. You figured you would just share your lounge chair with Suguru and sit in his lap. Or he could use your lap as a pillow and you could braid his hair. Either worked. 

Just as you were setting out your towels on the chairs, you heard a PLOP and crying following after. A little kid had slipped and fallen down on the concrete. He used his hands to break the fall, and the skin of his palms were broken a little bit, blood splintering through the cracks. He started hysterically crying.

“Oh no, sweetie! Are you okay? Where is your grown up?” you rushed over to the kid. 

“I think I packed a first aid kit in the bag, let me get it,” Suguru added.

Of course he did, that man was prepared for the end of the world.

Suguru took an antiseptic wipe from the kit, and bent down so that he was at eye level with the kid. 

“This is probably going to sting, but it will feel better I promise. Your bathing suit is dope by the way, I love the colors,” Suguru cooed at the kid, trying to calm him down. 

“You remind me a lot of my little brother, his name is Noritoshi. He’s really brave. Are you brave like him?” you added. 

The child stopped his hysterics and let Suguru clean him up, listening to both of your kind words. He nodded his little head of pink hair at your question and pointed towards an elderly man slowly, but frantically making his way over to the kid.

“Yuji! What happened?” the old man asked.

“I falled and getted a boo-boo,” the kid, called Yuji, sniffled. 

“He slipped and hurt his hand, we have some antiseptic disinfectant and bandaids though, so we fixed him right up,” you told the man as he got closer.

“He was really brave,” Suguru added, smiling down at Yuji. 

“Thank you, so much. You two are very kind,” the man said in a monotone voice. Though his voice showed no emotion, his eyes did. His eyes looked tired, but definitely grateful to the kindness of you and Suguru. 

“Feel better, dude!” Suguru yelled to Yuji as his grandfather led him away. 

After about an hour of tanning on the lounges with Shoko, you looked to see where the boys went. It wasn’t very hard to spot the two best friends, as they were acting like children, making big waves in the lazy river. On Suguru’s shoulders, you noticed something: the kid with the pink hair from earlier. 

Suguru and Satoru were having some sort of chicken fight with him, all three of them laughing and having the time of their lives. 

“You are hopeless,” Shoko rolled her eyes, a new cigarette in between her lips. 

“What do you mean?” You replied. 

“Don’t play dumb, I know what you’re thinking,” she smirked back.

…

September 2007 

“Suguru, you look like you’ve lost weight, are you okay?” Satoru asked, as he twirled a pencil in midair with his Infinity technique. 

“Just tired,” Suguru responded. 

Over the past few weeks, Suguru had developed dark circles and bags under his eyes. He looked pale, and was often exhausted. Not too exhausted for you though, apparently. 

It seemed the two of you spent more and more time together holed up in one of your rooms when you weren’t on missions. It was just so nice in your own little world, away from everything. You didn’t have to care about who lived and who died. You only had to focus on each other. 

Satoru attempted to carry on the conversation. 

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.” 

“You probably won’t see me for a while again.” 

“Yo, what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I need to get out of here. Both of us do. We’re not fit for Jujutsu Society.” Suguru said, referring to the two of you. 

“Ha, ha, so funny.” Satoru sarcastically added. 

“It’s not a joke.” 

“What do you mean? Dude, you’re a special grade, you seriously think they’re gonna let you quit?” 

It was true. The elders wouldn’t just let Suguru run away and walk free. If he was not with Jujutsu society, he was probably against it. And letting a special grade sorcerer and his grade one partner roam free would pose a threat to the stability of the elder’s iron grip on the status quo of Jujutsu society. 

He’d have to get the elders to denounce and force you out. 

So, here you were, flying with the man who was your boyfriend, your one and only, on the back of a curse, headed out for a mission, and hopefully, some much needed seclusion with Suguru. 

… 

7:03 PM (19:03)

You and Suguru decided to split up for the mission. It had been reported that there was a sighting of two possible curse users and a separate cursed spirit. Thus, Suguru wanted to deal with the curse users, and you to deal with the curse itself. 

You exorcized the curse with ease, using piercing blood to slice the monster in half. There were a few other lower level curses, which you could have eliminated with your eyes closed. It seemed too easy. If Suguru was sent on this mission, there had to be something else, another factor. After a few minutes of patrolling for any other cursed energy residue, you decided to find your way back to Suguru. 

You found him standing outside of a small house on the outskirts of the village. He seemed out of it; he was staring right at the door, but did not enter. As you approached, you saw the strong cursed energy residue leading from the door. 

“Sug, I exorcized those curses. I know you hate the taste of swallowing them, I didn’t want to make you do that if you didn’t have to.” If Suguru heard you, he showed no acknowledgement. 

“Suguru?” You pinched the sleeve of his white collared shirt.

“Dude? Did you hear me?” You squeezed his thick bicep, pushing your manicured nails into his skin, effectively bringing him back from whatever plane of reality he was on. 

“The locals in the village told me this is the home of two little girls, twins. Their descriptions match the ones for the curse users. So…” He insinuated, leaving the rest for you to figure out. His amber eyes were dark and cold. 

“Oh.” You said. You and Suguru had both been through a lot and hated Jujutsu Society. You and Suguru had your incident with Amanai a little over a year earlier, and your uppity clan kept you from your mother, a heartbreaking decision by the family head in order to give you the best possible chance of becoming the leader of the clan. A position which you despised.

Over the past few months, in the afterglow of sex, you two would lay there, embraced in each other's arms, dreaming of a world without curses, without clans, without people to produce those curses. “Monkeys,” as Suguru referred to non-sorcerers, from which curses were created. In your and Suguru’s fantasy world, you wouldn’t even have a reason to use curse techniques. You could get married, have children, live a peaceful life without fear of a curse coming to take that happiness away.

The bottom line is you knew Jujutsu Society was unfair, but never would you think you would be asked to harm a child. What was wrong with these people? You thought of your little brother, Norotoshi, who was also six years old. He was supposed to be your “competition” for the title of family head, but you never really wanted to fight him. He was just your sweet little brother. 

How could you harm someone that is the same age as your little brother? 

A wave of nausea ran through your body as the reality of the situation dawned upon you. Suguru kneeled down on the floor with you, rubbing your back and holding your hair back as you vomited. 

“Shhh, I got you.” He wrapped you in an awkward embrace on the floor, and pressed a kiss to your sweat-sheened forehead. “It’s going to be okay. I have a plan.” Suguru’s entire demeanor changed in an instant. He smiled, but there was no emotion behind his eyes, and his voice sounded like it was coated in honey. 

His behavior was strange, but helped you to feel more at ease. Suguru gave you some hope to cling on to. 

… 

8:46 PM (20:46) 

You were both sitting on the stairs leading up to the front of the house. You were leaning on Suguru as he brushed a hand over your hair, occasionally placing a kiss on the top of your head. You had finally finished sobbing into Suguru’s chest after an hour, the teardrops staining through his white collared shirt. You felt so many emotions. Anger at the broken system. Hatred, for the Jujutsu Society elders. Confusion, for what would happen once you committed to your plan. Grief, for the people in your life that you would lose. Betrayal, from the society that was supposed to protect people. Suguru sat with you and validated your feelings, making you feel like you and your emotions were the only things in this world that matter. 

The plan was simple. You were both going to defect. 

Both you and Suguru were sick and tired of the way the world functioned. You were sick of watching comrades, comrades who were teenagers, who were children, die. 

During one of your late night conversations, Suguru once said, 

“If being a Jujutsu Sorcerer is like running a marathon…

What if what’s at the end of that road…

Is a mountain of our fellow sorcerers’ dead corpses.”

In that moment, Suguru had played it off as some dark joke, but part of you knew that he was right. 

As for the plan, you two were to wait until some of the elders of the village led you into the small house, as they apparently kept multiple locks on it to keep the supposed dangerous young girls at bay. Then, you were going to take the young sorcerers on the back of one of Suguru’s curses and run to Kyoto and find somewhere to stay for the night. Suguru said he would “take care of the rest.” You trusted him with your whole being, even if that meant him ending the lives of a few non-sorcerers. It would serve them right for causing the very existence of curses. 

…

9:01 PM (21:01)

The two elders from the village arrived shortly after. You took Suguru’s hand and shared a reassuring glance, his thumb rubbing gently over your hand as if to say, it’s going to be okay. Shaking with exhaustion, anxiety, and some of the nausea from earlier,  you slowly made your way up the stairs as the elders parted the shoji doors. The building seemed to be one long room with some sort of wooden cage at the end, almost like the house was made to hold animals at some point. 

The building was dimly lit, but you could see the outline of two small figures huddled together in the center of the wooden cage. Your stomach turned once again, and you tightly squeezed Suguru’s hand.

“What is this?” Suguru firmly questioned, his free hand going up to brush his bangs away. 

The two of you stepped closer to the makeshift prison, and the two small figures were shaking. As you made your way towards the children, they had obviously been beaten. They were covered in dry blood, scratches and bruises. They both had one black eye. 

How could these children, these SIX year olds, legally be kept like this? THESE were the scary curse users that were terrorizing this village? It was disgusting. 

“My grandchild was on the verge of death because of these two,” spit the woman who led you in.

“These two use strange powers and often attack the villagers.” defended the other man in your presence.

Suguru dropped your hand and squatted down to be at eye level with the girls, pinching his nose bridge between his pointer finger and thumb. 

“So you mean to tell me that you monkeys think that these little girls, these children are responsible for the incidents that have been occuring, is that correct?” Suguru grumbled, his voice icy and dangerous. 

“I already dealt with the cause of the incidents, they’re innocent children, what is wrong with you people,” you cried. You were full of rage, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. 

One of the young girls, clutching a well-loved stuffed animal, bravely spoke up and declared, “We didn’t mean to hurt anyone on purpose, they were trying to-”

“SHUT UP YOU MONSTERS!” The elder woman screamed. 

“Your parents were the same. I knew we should have killed you when you were born,” the man added. 

“Exactly, twins are bad luck. We should have known better,” the elder woman snorted. 

Suguru looked down at the girls and whispered something that would not have been obvious to someone who did not know him as well as you did, “It’ll be okay.”

He started drawing a curse from his arsenal of cursed spirits, and gave you a nod. The signal to go ahead with the plan. 

That same silky smooth, almost frighteningly nice, voice that Suguru only used when he was especially angry. 

“Let’s step outside for a second, shall we?” Suguru tutted, producing the same pink cursed spirit you flew on to get to the village. He walked out the door with the two older adults and shot you a glance. 

I’d end the world for you. 

It was the same expression he bore when you confessed your love for each other, all of those months ago. 

The girls immediately stood up when they sighted the curse. They were terrified, understandably so. You moved towards the thick metal lock of the wooden cage and knelt down.

“Hey girls, I’m not going to hurt you, I’m here to help. You’re safe. I know it must seem so scary right now, but me and the other man you saw me with are going to get you out of here.”

You told them your name, and assured them that you were like them. Using your piercing blood to cut through the thick lock, you explained to them about your technique and talked to them about your little brother to keep them (and yourself) calm. 

As soon as the lock broke, the girls ran to you and hugged you tightly. They were shaking, crying, and clinging to your body. A series of thank you’s flooded from their mouths, and you kissed the top of their heads, attempting to dry their tears away. 

“The pink curse over here is going to take us to safety. Suguru, that man who’s talking to them, is also a sorcerer, and he’ll meet us wherever we get to.” you explained. 

You sat the girls on the curse side by side, and then climbed in back of them to make sure they did not fall. Using Supernova, you blasted a hole through the roof, and the cursed spirit started to levitate off of the ground. Quickly, you gained altitude and left the village behind. You covered the girls eyes as you looked back, just to see what was happening. The entrance to the house was ablaze and you could make out Suguru’s cursed spirits crawling throughout the village. 

Shit. Well, there wasn’t any turning back now. 

… 

The Next Morning

Overnight, you had flown the girls to a small hostel on the outskirts of Osaka. You purchased a small, private room for the three of you to stay in. 

As the sky turned from a deep purple to a ombré of orange and blue, nausea from the previous evening returned in full force. You held yourself over the toilet as you threw up what felt like your entire gut. You stayed like that until you heard four small feet walk into the bathroom behind you. 

With the light properly shining on them, you got to see how truly filthy they were. The girl, who called herself Mimiko, had short brown hair that was knotted, matted, and crinkled with dry blood. Her sister, Nanako, was not faring much better. Her blonde curls were also matted, and there was crusted blood left on her forehead. They both were covered from head to toe in bruises, had dark circles around their eyes, and seemed to be alarmingly skinny. 

“Um… are you okay?” Nanako asked. You took a deep breath, happy to focus on something other than your churning stomach for a moment. 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I think it’s just nerves.” You answered. 

“Let’s worry about you two, I’ll run you a bath, then we can go to the 7/11 across the way and pick up some food. Sound good?” You declared. 

Mimiko’s stomach rumbled. “I think your belly answered for you, Mimiko,” you chuckled softly. 

… 

While the girls bathed, you went down to the Lost and Found of the hostel and grabbed a few items that looked like they would fit the twins: some hoodies, leggings, and a skirt. You also fixed yourself up, washing the vomit out of your mouth and splashing your face with hot water from the sink. 

Once the girls looked decent enough to go outside without raising suspicion, the three of you ventured out to the 7/11 across the street. 

The smell of food was a welcome scent as you walked up and down the rows of food, snacks, and other items. You grabbed whatever you thought a few six year olds would like, and on your way to the cashier, something caught your eye. A row of 100 yen pregnancy tests and other feminine care products. Whether it be a metaphorical gut feeling or the actual nausea that had persisted for the last few days, something told you to purchase a stick to pee on, just in case.You snuck the test into the pile of items you and the girls were purchasing. 

When the three of you got to the hostel, the girls scarfed their food down, and you tried to take little nibbles and sips of water. You put the twins down for a nap. 

You tried your best not to think about Suguru. You didn’t know what to think of him anymore. The man you spoke to the previous night could not have been your boyfriend. The Suguru you knew would never kill without a point. He would never just murder an entire village of people. 

You hoped and prayed that you were wrong. That he didn’t actually harm anyone and just showed off his curses to teach the people of the village a lesson.

Wait.

What if he was killed? 

It was all so confusing. You loved Suguru. He’s the one person who seemed to have love for you, besides your younger brother. 

Noritoshi. A pang of guilt wracked through your frame, heightening the gurgling of your stomach. 

If he murdered those non-sorcerers…you would have been deemed an accomplice. 

 So…

What would he think? 

Your baby brother?

Would he be okay? 

He’s a boy with an inherited technique in the Kamo clan. But would people look out for him? Would they keep him from your mother as well? 

In your spiral of thoughts, you noticed the 7/11 bag on the counter and remembered the supplies you bought earlier that day. You grabbed it as quietly as possible, as to not wake the girls, and stepped into the bathroom, clutching the goods inside. Your hands were shaking from lack of food over the past day and a half, but as carefully as you could, you retrieved the pregnancy test from the bag. 

The box was small, but felt so heavy in your hand. 

Why not? It probably won’t be positive, you told yourself. 

Why do I have to convince myself it won’t be positive, you thought. 

You know what, it will get my brain off of Noritoshi and Suguru for a bit, you reasoned, pulling apart the tucked in top of the box. 

After you fully unwrapped it, you read the directions, and followed suit. You put the test in the cup on the sink of the bathroom, and walked out to see the clock in the room. You waited five minutes until the results developed. 

Wait…this was probably a bad idea.

What were you thinking? 

This was so stupid why would you go and do this in the first place? 

You needed to get some air, your chest felt tight. You felt the nausea creeping back again. 

Suguru, where are you? 

You grabbed a room key off of the counter and slowly walked out into the hallway, desperately trying to keep yourself from waking the girls. One of the first things that caught your eye in the hallway was a vending machine. 

Maybe some soda would help settle your stomach? 

You walked over to the machine and plucked a few coins from your pocket, listening to them clink through the slot. You selected a Ginger Ale and Coke, reasoning that if you didn’t drink it, Suguru would when he got back.

If he got back. 

No. You can’t think like that. 

You took as long as you could getting back to the room, stepping on every other square of the carpeted floors, trying to ground yourself back to reality somehow. You arrived at the door a few minutes later and opened the door. 

The windows in your room were wide open, allowing a little breeze to blow the curtains. You dropped both bottles of soda. 

You had locked the windows before leaving the room. You made sure of it. 

You panicked, running for the girls to make sure they were okay. Alas, they were sleeping soundly, no new scratches or blood on them. 

You turned your attention to the bathroom, where the door was closed and you heard some rustling. 

Slowly making your way towards the door, you lined up your piercing blood technique, in case you were about to be attacked. 

“Baby, is that you?” you heard from the other side of the door. 

“Suguru.” You didn’t know if you should be more frightened or relieved. 

Part of you wanted nothing more than to run into his arms and kiss the scratches and dried blood away from him. Other than that, he looked relatively unharmed. His usual neat bun was not apparent on the top of his head, instead he let his hair hang loose, his bangs tied up in a messy half-up-half-down. He was dressed in all black, a dark oversized crew neck and baggy black sweats. As insinuated by the dark bags under his eyes, he didn’t look like he had eaten or slept in the past day or two. 

“Whose blood is that? Yours? Or someone else’s.” 

“That’s one way to say hello.”

“Answer.” 

“Doll, what’s wrong?”

“Suguru, are you okay?”

“My love, I took care of everything. We’ll be safe for the next few days, alright. We just have to lay low for a little while.” 

“Suguru, answer me.” 

“Shhh, everything is okay, doll. Your body's working overtime right now, and the pregnancy hormones can’t be helping.”

What? 

You stared at him. No way. 

“That test is your’s, right?” he questioned, his face filled with concern. “It’s positive.” 

You stared at him, then at the test. It was. 

“I- I’m gonna be a dad,” Suguru’s face cracked into a sincere smile. 

He picked you up and spun you around, planting kisses all over your head and face. 

“And you’re gonna be a mom! To my baby. Our baby. You’re gonna be the best mommy, you're so good with kids.” 

You stayed silent; you were still processing everything that just happened. 

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he cradled your face gently in his hands. 

You stood frozen, thinking of words to say, but they never made it out of your mouth. Your vision went blurry with water, and the churning feeling you had been trying too hard to suppress returned to your stomach. You gagged, running over to the toilet. 

As you held yourself over the bowl, your body felt like it was trying to expel all of your organs out through your mouth. Suguru leapt to your side and held your hair back as you threw up, rubbing soothing circles into your back. 

“Shhh, baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out, this is just one of the best things that’s ever happened.” Suguru cooed. 

You took a deep breath and wiped any stray vomit from your lips with the back of your hand. 

As you hurled your guts out, you felt his large, warm hand, rubbing circles on the small of your back. The other of his hands went to hold your hair out of your face. 

You stayed like that for about an hour, just sitting there, pondering your impending motherhood. 

Mother. 

You were going to be a mother. 

It simultaneously freaked you out and surprised you. Suguru, the person you loved most in this world, actually got you pregnant. Of course he did. He always stuck to his word.

When that man was committed to something, he was going to have it. He was possessive, territorial even. That made him all the more dangerous, but it wasn’t him you were afraid of or for. You were afraid for the rest of the world. 

I’d end the world for you. 

His promise echoed in the back of your mind. 

“Sweetheart, it is going to be okay. I think I may have gotten too overexcited and freaked you out. You don’t have to keep it if you don’t want to, I’m here for whatever you need. But, thank you. Thank you for this precious gift.” 

It was a gift that forever linked the two of you together. 

… 

September 2007

You found her waiting on a bench in the center of Shinjuku, trying to find something in her pockets, probably a lighter for her cigarette. 

“Hey, need a light?” Suguru asked, offering out a lighter. 

“Hi,” you waved shyly. 

“If it isn’t the criminals, trolling girls who smoke?” Shoko replied

“Just testing our luck I guess, '' Suguru joked. 

“Mmhmm, well, I’ll go ahead and ask. Any chance the charges are fake?” 

“No, unfortunately not

“Then I’ll ask another question, why?” 

“To create a world of only Jujutsu Sorcerers,” 

“We don’t want anymore of our comrades to die,” you doubled down on Suguru’s point. 

“Ha, that doesn’t make sense, but whatever,” Shoko said, picking up her phone and dialing a number. Someone on the other line answered. 

“Hey, Gojo? 

Yeah, found ‘em. 

Shinjuku. 

No way, I don’t wanna get killed.” She said before quickly hanging up.

“Do you have the thing we talked about?” Suguru asked before walking towards the area his best friend was said to be.

“Yes, I’ve got her,” Shoko looked into his eyes, 

“Okay, I love you,” Suguru said, placing a kiss on your forehead and walking off. 

Shoko put her cigarette out. 

“Shoko I’m okay, just, um, okay how do I put this…” 

“Dude, spit it out, you're scaring me.” 

“I’m pregnant.” you blurted out. 

“Shit.” the mousy brunette replied. 

 “No, it’s okay, really, I’m happy, we’re happy, just…scared - ” 

“Did you not use protection? You of all people? The mom friend? Well, now, I guess literal mom friend,” Shoko put her hands in her hair, scrunching it out of stress, “And you’re a fugitive! Both you and Geto have been sentenced to death by the elders. Jesus Christ Y/N, how the fuck are you going to raise a child as a fucking criminal.” 

“I’m sorry Shoko, I-I couldn’t,” your last word was muffled by the huge lump in your throat. You knew Shoko of all people would rip you a new one, but you didn’t expect it to hurt this much. Tears clouded your vision, and you were sobbing so violently, that you started to choke on the snot and water running down your face. People were staring. 

“Woah, dude. Shhh, it’s okay, I’m here now,” Shoko reached down to wipe some of the snot off of your face with the sleeve of her uniform. “Come on, let’s go get you cleaned up, I have some supplies that I brought in my bag.” 

Shoko grabbed your hand and led you into the nearby metro station. You rushed past the crowds of people, until you made your way into the gate. Shoko kept leading you further underground until you reached a room that was sectioned off for mothers and infants. 

“Get inside, we shouldn’t be bothered in here for a while,” Shoko stated, her tone gentle. You walked in, and she locked the door behind you. 

The room was small, but cozy. There was an infant changing table to the right, and to the left, there was a small blue couch with a table next to it. There were a few blankets packaged in sanitary wrappers laying on the side of the couch, and the room was decorated with pastel flowers all around. You felt completely safe for the first time in a while. 

“Sit,” Shoko commanded. You complied and took a seat on the couch. 

“I got one of those portable ultrasound things from the infirmary. I don’t know why we have these things but, hey, it’s coming in handy.” 

“How did you know to bring an ultrasound kit with you?” you asked suspiciously. 

“Oh, Geto told me to bring one. So, I kind of already figured you were pregnant, or you had some kind of internal bleeding. But with the way he was being so secretive, I figured the former.” Shoko replied, fiddling with the machine. It looked like a tiny foldable computer, the probe attached to a wire that fed into the screen. 

She KNEW???

“If you knew, then why the fuck did you make me say it out loud?” you demanded. 

“Because I needed to be sure this wasn’t a trick or something to kill me,” she shot back, “If ya didn’t know, your boyfriend -” 

“Fiancé -” 

“Fiancé, whatever, killed an entire village of people.” 

“I know, but he did what he had to do. We’re trying to make the world a better place, a place without curses, so you don’t have to keep seeing people die.” You refuted. 

“I’m not talking to you about this right now, I’m here to make sure you and the fetus inside of you are okay. You chose your path, and I chose mine. I’m not trying to change your mind, what’s done is done. I don’t support what you two did, but you’re still my best friend. I’m here for you,” Shoko finished and scooched on the couch to give you a hug. You were crying again, fat tears streaming down your cheeks. 

After five minutes, you two finally parted, and Shoko reached into her bag to produce some supplies. She pulled out sanitizer, a bottle of gel, a pair of gloves, and a little blue cloth. Shoko sanitized her hands, and gave some to you as well. She then put the pair of gloves on and asked you to pull up your shirt to reveal your abdomen. Finally, she tucked the blue cloth into your pants, so that the gel would not get on it. 

“This might feel cold. I also don’t really know if I’m doing this 100% right, so, you should probably find someone with a medical degree and not just reverse curse technique to look at you,” Shoko added, the usual banter reappearing between you two. 

She squeezed some of the cold jelly-like substance on your abdomen. You winced at the uncomfortable feeling. Shoko took the end of the probe and started gently pushing it around on your stomach. After about a minute, something appeared on the little screen. 

Woah. 

That’s your kid. Your and Suguru’s baby. You started crying again. 

You loved them already, and only wished Suguru could have been here to see this. 

“Yeah, there’s a whole-ass kid in there,” Shoko confirmed.

“As opposed to a half-ass kid?” You joked. Shoko laughed. 

Next, Shoko reached into her bag, producing a thick textbook. She turned to a page that was marked by brightly-colored post-it notes. 

“Okay, based on this development textbook, you’re probably about 9 to 10 weeks along. Can you use your technique and give me a blood sample fast?” 

9 to 10 weeks. 

That’s a lot farther along than you thought. 

You took a deep breath. “Okay,” and slowly produced a handful of blood from your palm, dropping it with a PLOP into the test tube Shoko held out for you. 

“I’ll run a test on this once I get back to the infirmary at school, I just wanna check your hGC levels to make sure they’re good. But in the meantime, start taking these,” she produced yet another item from her bag. “They’re prenatal vitamins. Also, I know Geto has to have some connections somewhere with doctors. Have him find one for you. I can check on you once in a while, but not all the time or it will get suspicious. I love you, but I’m also an eighteen-year-old who doesn’t have a medical degree yet. I’ll leave first with Satoru to make sure there aren’t any sorcerers around so that you and Geto can escape. Stay safe and healthy, please,” 

“Safe and healthy, coming from the chainsmoker?” You joked. 

Shoko rolled her eyes as she gave you a final hug, exiting the room, leaving you alone with the bag of medical supplies and textbook. 

… 

Mid January, 2008 

As the months passed, you did not think it possible, yet you fell deeper in love with Suguru. He doted on you and the twins constantly, spoiling you with gifts, having his followers help construct a lavish living space for you in the back of the monastery. Mimiko and Nanako shared a large room, their western-style four poster beds were adorned with silks and all of the stuffed animals they could desire. They had large walk-in closets full of dress-up gowns and expensive designer brands.

“Only the best for my girls,” Suguru would say. 

As for you, he had a beautiful master suite built, the double walk-in closet filled with comfortable, yet elegant, maternity clothing and a California king bed dwarfing the rest of the room. The walls were painted white with navy and gold accents throughout the room. 

When he was not tending to his cult, Suguru also kept you close to him as much as possible. Sometimes, he would even have you sit with him as you both tended to his followers throughout the day, him consuming their curses and you collecting their money. 

Though he saw you as an equal, he was still overly protective and territorial of you now that you were carrying his child. He would sit you down on his lap in front of your followers, his hands caressing your now-evident baby bump, proclaiming to both you and the people in the cult that you were a goddess among mere mortals. When the monastery was empty, sometimes he would just sit and hold you, breathing in your scent. You would sit like that for an hour sometimes, him feeling the baby kick against his large palms, trailing kisses up and down your nape. You would curl yourself up as much as you could to put your ear to his chest, his heartbeat drumming with excitement.  

When you weren’t helping Suguru, you were with the twins. Playing with them, going on walks, teaching them little things about the world that they missed while living in that cursed village. They were really excited to have a new sibling and talked about all of the clothes they would dress the new baby in. You had to remind them, of course, that the baby was not a doll. They also threw out name suggestions, but you had to tell them that unfortunately, “Princess,” and “Hello Kitty,” were not appropriate names to call their soon to be baby sibling. 

At the end of your long days tending to the needs of non-sorcerers that were actually useful to your cause, Suguru would have you both change out of your robes and start to cook dinner while you played with the girls. True, he could have hired someone to cook for your little family, but he wanted to take it upon himself to make sure that you were getting all of the nutrients and rest you and the twins possibly could. 

You somehow succeeded in carving out a nice life for yourself under the harshest of circumstances. Sure, it wasn’t the utopia you and Suguru had always imagined all of those nights back at Jujutsu High, but you had a little family of your own and were working towards a better, safer world. 

… 

After he finished tucking the girls into bed one night, you curled up with Suguru on the couch, your head tucked against his chest, and knees in between his hips, using him as a body pillow. One of his hands was around you and the other was used to cradle his head on the arm of the couch as you both laid there. 

None of your pre-maternity pants fit you anymore, so you threw on a pair of Suguru’s gray sweats and a white t-shirt. You practically lived in his clothes at this point. 

He started rubbing small, gentle circles on your swollen belly, seemingly in awe of your changing body. If you ever got insecure about your stretch marks, or how much weight you gained, he would make you stand in front of the mirror in your shared chambers, kissing every inch of your body. In the shower, he would take the time to wash your hair and help you shave. He wanted to let you know that you weren’t alone. Suguru was right there the whole time. 

You felt a fluttering in your stomach where he was rubbing your belly, and Suguru gasped, breaking the serene silence. 

“Hi, baby,” he whispered to your bump. Joy flashed through his tired eyes as his lips curved into a dopey smile. Then, he leaned up to press sweet, wet kisses into your neck. 

“The most beautiful woman in the world. How did I get so lucky?” Suguru cooed. 

“You’re stunning,” he continued, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. 

Since falling pregnant, you were sensitive to the slightest touch. Your fiancé was sensitive to the slightest glance from you. Your sexual appetites had grown increasingly insatiable. 

From his words and kisses, you could feel yourself drenching your underwear. As Suguru’s tongue continued to slither into your mouth, you absentmindedly started grinding against his muscled thigh, the friction feeling delicious on your clit. 

“Ngh- Sugu- p-please touch me. No teasing. Need you,” you moaned. 

“Do you need my fingers? I bet I can take you right now from how soaked you are,” he purred. 

“Don’t care. Want something inside,” you whined. 

“Lemme check you first. Don’t wanna hurt you.” And with that, he felt your soaked, clothed cunt through your pants and underwear. You were so wet, that a dark, sticky patch was starting to form on your sweatpants. You nearly ripped the pants off of you in the midst of your carnal need to have some part of him, any part of him, filling you. 

Suguru got right to work, stripping you of the layers concealing you from him. After a few circles on your clit, he sunk his middle finger into your cunt. There was no resistance; he was able to sink his finger all the way down to his knuckle. So, he added a second finger, which you took just as easily. 

You felt relieved to finally have something for your fluttering hole to suck on, but you needed more. You needed to be stuffed to the brim, completely full of him. 

“Suguru I need you inside,” you gasped, your cunt continuing to clench on his thick fingers. 

“Whatever you want, my love,” he replied, slipping his fingers out. You almost cried at the loss of contact, but you knew you were about to be rewarded tenfold. Suguru pushed his sticky fingers into your mouth as he rearranged the two of you. You licked his fingers clean, and he let out an unrestrained moan at the way you deepthroated his digits. 

Suguru sat you up, and scooted himself against the back of the sofa. He took his length out from his underwear, letting it smack his stomach, the tip weeping precum. Suguru removed his fingers from your mouth and used the remaining spit to cover his cock; a makeshift lube for the two of you. While he stroked himself, you climbed up on his lap and attacked his mouth with fiery, desperate kisses. 

He helped you remove your top, and then shed his remaining clothing articles. When he took your top off, you could tell that Suguru’s thoughts about the day had gone out the window. Suguru always had a fascination with your tits, now even more so that your tits had grown at least 2 cup sizes since pregnancy. He took one of your pert nipples into his mouth, sucking softly and grinding up into your wet heat, letting a grunt rumble through his chest.  

“Love, please,” you cried out, tears threatening to spill down your face.

With your pleading, he helped you to climb on top of him and lined his cock up with your greedy cunt. You slowly sunk down on his dick, feeling every ridge and vein inside of you. You both hissed as he breached your tight hole. 

Finally, you thought. 

Suguru resumed his sucking on your nipple, moaning around your soft mound, sending vibrations through your body. You were so overstimulated and sensitive that you felt like you were about to cum right there and then. 

He could feel that you were close by the death grip you had on his cock. So, he reached one of his large hands down from your waist and found your clit. You sunk your nails into his wide shoulders in response. 

“Give it to me,” Suguru growled on his way to give your other nipple the same treatment. 

The coil in your tummy snapped, the sensations driving you hard into your climax. Suguru moved to nibble on your earlobe, whispering what a good girl you were. 

As you came down from your high, Suguru’s hands moved down to your bump, staring in awe. 

“I told you I love this tummy,” he commented, his large hand splaying across your bellybutton. He pressed his forehead against yours. “I think it’s so beautiful, that your body submitted to mine.” 

“Mr. Geto,” you said with a fake gasp, sarcasm dripping from your voice, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re getting off on my predicament, you pervert.” 

“Touché,” he smirked. “I think it’s hot your body is going through all of these changes, just because of me. You’re mine,” he growled out the last words. 

“I’m yours,” you confirmed. 

“Suguru, I’m tired, I don’t know if I have the energy to ride you like this.” You realized he still hadn’t cum yet, he was probably in pain with the deep arousal he felt. 

“Okay, I’ll carry you to bed and we can finish there,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead and slipped out of you, your juices trailing behind in a sticky string where you were formerly connected 

He then picked you up, bridal style, and started the short walk towards your room. The cool air felt sensitive against your hot pussy and swollen clit, your arousal and cum now rolling in small beads down the back of your thighs. 

He set you on your side on top of your California king mattress, covered in fine fabric sheets. Then, he took one of the large decorative pillows and pushed it in between your knees to allow him easy access to your cunt. This position would also allow some relief to your aching lower back. Suguru knew you loved it when he massaged your back, so he started there, pushing circles into the sore muscle and kissing up your spine. 

His erection rubbed up against the back of your thighs, rendering the both of you delirious. 

When you both couldn’t take it anymore, he finally slipped into your warm, wet heat again. 

“How would you like me to fuck you, love?” Suguru questioned. 

“Slow and deep. Wanna feel all of you,” you drooled.

“Mmm, sounds perfect,” he responded, pressing wet kisses into your neck. With that, Suguru started a long, deep thrust into the depths of your pussy. You felt every part of him; every ridge, every vein. You made a sound that you didn’t even know could come out of you. 

Suguru picked up the pace a little bit, leaving little whimpers and groans in your ear as he rutted into you. Suguru was usually pretty reserved during sex, but he recently started to be more vocal for you. It spurred you on even more, made you even more aroused, which felt impossible at this point. 

“I love it when you whimper-nGHH,” you moaned, as Suguru punctuated the end of your sentence with a particularly harsh thrust. The sex started to feel desperate, animalistic almost. Suguru felt something primal within him snap. He needed to fill you, to stuff you so full, he would watch his cum leak out of your pussy. 

“Suugguuhh-“ you felt your second orgasm of the night closing in on you. 

“Cum with me, doll, lemme fill you, ngh, u-up,” he grunted, moving a hand down to toy with your clit. “You look s-so good, full of me. Ngh- your tummy all round, tits all plump, making milk for my m-my baby,”

For some reason, that sent you over the edge, clamping down on his cock and coming hard. Your cunt sucked him in with a firm grip, and you could feel that he was close too. As he continued to fuck you through your climax, his heavy balls slapped once more against your thighs, and he came with a gasp, a series of, “I love you’s” and “Thank you’s” flooding from his mouth. 

He fucked himself through his orgasm, and finally collapsed into the mattress. After a few minutes, Suguru pulled out, watching in awe as his release dripped out of your hole. His fingers traveled down to the mess the two of you made and swiped his pointer and middle fingers through your folds. 

“I probably sound like a broken record, but I don’t know what I did in my past life to deserve you,” he said, kissing the top of your head, moving both of his hands to rest on your bump again. 

“C'mon, let’s clean you up, doll,” he said, trying to drag you out of bed. But you were already fast asleep. 

Suguru smiled to himself, running to the bathroom to get some warm compresses and clean towels. When he finished cleaning you up as best he could, he made his way to his closet, where he fetched his favorite graphic t-shirt. He handled you with more care than he would a butterfly or a flower as he dressed you, and headed to the bathroom to clean himself up. 

After he deemed himself decent enough, Suguru walked over to your sleeping form and bent down to the level where your belly was. He criss crossed his hands and rested his chin on them. 

“I love you and your mommy so much, little one. You’re so loved already,” he whispered, reaching one of his hands towards your belly. 

Suddenly, he felt a small fluttering beneath his hand. Suguru smiled, his eyes alive with pride and wonder.

… 

The next morning, you awoke to the smell of something delicious. 

And four little feet running across the floor.

“Shhh, Nanako, you’re gonna wake up Kamo-san,” Mimiko warned her sister. 

“It’s okay girls, I’m already up,” you sighed, yawning. “You girls sleep good?” 

“Yeah. Can we get crepes today?” Nanako asked, changing topics rather quickly. 

“It depends on what time me and Suguru get done at the monastery, but there should be enough time. The baby has been craving some chocolate,” you chuckled.

“I have a new name for the baby,” Mimiko declared, starting to climb on your bed.

“Oh, yeah? What?” You scoop her up and bring her into your lap somewhat successfully. 

“Peach. Like the princess,” Mimiko said, matter of factly. She looked down right proud of herself. 

“Mimiko, that’s a fruit. I think it should be Sparkles,” Nanako responded back to her sister. 

“Well, we’ll have time to think about what the baby’s name should be, but for right now…I think we should eat some breakfast and see who can get dressed the fastest,” 

“Geto-san made some breakfast,” Mimiko stated. 

“And I helped,” Nanako exclaimed, attempting to have her voice heard in the conversation.

“I helped too,” Mimiko scolded with jealousy. 

“Why don’t you girls go help set the table too and I’ll be there in a minute,” you said, pressing kisses to their foreheads. 

“Fineee,” Mimiko rolled her eyes playfully. 

You freshened up, brushing your teeth and wrapping your body in a luxurious silk robe Suguru had purchased for you. 

As you made your way down the long corridor and into the kitchen, you could hear the sizzle of something cooking. You turned the corner to find Suguru, shirtless, standing over the stove of your enormous kitchen. You decide to sneak up on him, letting your finger creep around his waist as you pulled him back into a hug. You couldn’t press yourself flush against him, as your stomach got in the way. 

“There’s my girl,” Suguru cooed. 

“You’re making breakfast?” You beamed with tears in your eyes at the stack of American-style pancakes next to the stove. For some reason, this small gesture was making you really emotional. 

“Of course, baby. I let the chef take off this morning to spend some time with my beautiful girls before I have to head over,” he replied, snaking his arm back to grab on to yours and place a kiss on your palm.

It was so domestic. It was so normal. 

“Okay, order’s up. Mimi, Nana, will you help me put these on the table?” Suguru asked.

“Yes Geto-san,” Mimiko sang as she skipped towards the tower of the fluffy, golden deliciousness. 

“Thank you, sweetie,” Suguru whispered, giving her hair a ruffle. 

…

After the pancakes were eaten, and the syrup had ended up on the faces of the twins and Suguru, you pried the girls out of their seats to get dressed for the day. You and Suguru headed back to your quarters to change into your robes. 

As you let the luscious silk fabric cascade off of your body as down to the floor of your shared closet space, you felt the presence of your fiancé behind you. 

“Hi,” he smirked into your shoulder, starting to press kisses up your neck. 

“Hi,” you whispered back. 

One of his large hands reached down to your bump, caressing it with the lightest of touches. 

“Can I listen to her?” He asked like a giddy child. 

“My love, you never have to ask, you’re always welcome to,” you beam as he excitedly makes his way towards your protruding bump. “Baby’s been hanging out towards the bottom today if you want to feel them move,” you added. 

“Hi baby girl, this is your da-” 

“Baby girl? What makes you think the baby's a girl?”

“What makes you think she’s not?” he quipped, his usual banter-like tone making you giggle. 

“As a wise man once said to me; touché.” The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, soaking in each other’s presence. After all, slow moments like this would be rare when the baby arrived. 

Your peace was disrupted by a loud knock at the door. 

“Geto-sama, Kamo-san, there is someone here to see you, he says it is urgent” you heard Suguru’s assistant shout through the door. 

“Tell whoever it is that they have no right to request my presence. I will meet with them when I am in my proper attire,” Suguru snapped. 

“Of course, master. It’s just… this kid…” 

“No exceptions, I don’t care if it’s Satoru fucking Gojo himself, whoever it is can wait,” Suguru pressed, getting annoyed now. 

“Yes, of course, I wi-AHHHHHH,” a blood curdling scream erupted from the other side of the door, followed by a loud thump. 

Sensing danger, Suguru leapt into action, putting himself in front of you and summoning a curse. “Who’s. There,” he demanded. 

Blood started to leak under the door and into the marble tiles of your room. 

Suddenly, the door flew open to reveal the collapsed assistant on the floor, covered in her own blood. Next to the body, there was the figure of a small boy drenched in the scarlet substance. 

“Noritoshi?” you questioned, tears filling your eyes.

…

END OF PART I

dividers by @bunnysrph

#geto #jjk #jjk geto #jjk suguru #jujutsu kaisen fic #suguru smut #suguru geto smut #suguru x you #jjk x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #jjk spoilers #gojo satoru #shoko ieiri #fem reader

[ladyveronikawrites]

Scar - Chapter Five

PAIRING: Jolly Karlsson x Sam (ofc)

What if your teenage daughter's fantasy became your reality?

Summary: Samantha surprises her daughter, Lyric, with tickets to see her favorite band for her sixteenth birthday. What's supposed to be one the best days of her daughter's life, also becomes hers.

CW: none, just dadomens trying to find momomens

happy bday jolly💛

Masterlist

word count: 2.3k

Sam’s chest tightens as Jolly’s carefree laughter fills her car. It feels like an eternity since someone other than Lyric was sharing the front seat with her, let alone another man. She tried the online dating thing– but with her crazy work schedule and Lyric’s after-school and weekend practices– it doesn’t leave her much time for dating.

“So how long have you lived here?” Jolly’s sudden and intriguing question softens the pressure in her chest. No other man has asked me that before.

“I grew up here, but left when I graduated high school,” she sucks in a shaky breath as she continues. “Fate would have it that I would come back when James did; we always knew we wanted to raise a family here.” 

“James sounds like a really great guy and a wonderful father to Lyric,” Jolly says softly as Sam pulls into the hotel parking lot. 

“He was the best at everything,” she confesses as she pulls her SUV into the nearest parking spot to park. “The best father, the best handyman around the house, a supportive husband…” Jolly watches as her green eyes shimmer bright before a tear wells and cascades down her cheek. 

Swiftly, he unbuckles slipping from the seat belt to lean closer to Sam. His hands hesitate as he ponders if she is comfortable with him touching her but when he catches the small nod he moves in to cup her face in his hands, wiping away her tears with a gentle brush of his thumbs. 

“Thank you,” her whisper fills the space between them. 

He would give anything to take away her pain and sorrow, but all he can muster is a small smile that he hopes conveys how he feels. As Jolly begins to pull away, he finds moist lips pressed against his. He tenses to the touch at first but when she parts her lips for him, he’s done for. He leans in, mouth hungry, tongue ready to explore more. He licks at her bottom lip, threading his fingers through her hair, pulling her in closer. And he stops. Shit, what if I went too fast? What if I misread the signs? Wait, did she actually kiss me?

Something stirs in Sam when Jolly touches her face. His hands are so warm and comforting that the tears she was holding back finally break. An unfamiliar emotion bubbles in her stomach as Jolly leans forward; the scent of him overwhelms her senses. Before her brain can stop her heart, she leans. His warm lips against hers sparks electricity down her spine. She can’t get enough. She melts into Jolly when he runs his fingers through her strands. His tongue is moist against her bottom lip and she is more than ready to let him in. Her lips still burn when he abruptly pulls away. When her eyes pop open she finds Jolly with a pained expression on his face. 

“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes quickly. “Did I overstep?” His thick accent accentuates the concern in his voice.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Sam reassures the Swede with a smile.

Suddenly, the tall guitarist yawns, stretching as best he can in the small space, causing Sam to do the same. “Wanna go up to my room?”  With a shy giggle and a playful punch to Jolly’s arm, Sam agrees. 

Jolly opens the door of his room with a sweeping gesture of his arm, “Welcome to my crib.” His husky tone turns into a snicker when Sam smacks him in the arm as she steps by.

“You’re a dork,” she huffs a laugh as she enters the room. 

“I know,” he winks at her before threading his fingers to hers and leading her further into the room. There’s a large white bed against a navy blue accent wall and across from it hangs a flat-screen TV. An L-shaped couch fills the space under the window next to the bed. 

“This is where the magic happens so make yourself comfy, Sam. There’s water and booze in the mini fridge and the TV remote is on the bedside table. I’m going to take a quick shower.” She makes a small noise in understanding but doesn’t move from the window as she takes in the view of her small hometown. The shrill of the tap turning on pulls her from her nostalgia so she makes her way to the bed. She steps out of her beloved Converse, settles into the covers, and starts to scroll through the TV guide. 

Loud knocking stirs Sam awake. Rolling to her side, something digs into her stomach. Her eyebrows scrunch together when she finds the remote strangled in a death grip. Way to go, Sam, you fell asleep clutching onto the remote, like an old grandpa. 

Groaning, she slides out of bed and stretches rubbing her neck. Fuck me. I’m going to need to see my chiro on Monday. I hope she can squeeze me in. God, I hope Jolly doesn’t think I’m lame. Wait, did we kiss-

“You’re awake!” Jolly’s bright voice breaks through Sam’s post-nap brain fog. When she turns her head following the sound she gets lightheaded. Swaying slightly, she grips the arm of the couch and settles herself onto the furniture, hoping Jolly didn’t notice. If he did, he was gracious enough not to say anything as he continued. “The guys are heading out to see a movie, want to come?” 

“Sure!” she says without hesitation, ecstatic to spend more time with Jolly. But soon insecurity takes its rightful place in the pit of her stomach. “But let me fix my hair real quick,” she rushes by him, nerves bubbling in her stomach– but when Jolly grips her wrist, it’s not forceful, but just enough that she stops dead in her tracks. The setting sun casts a warm glow on Jolly’s long brunette hair forming a halo of light around him. 

“You look beautiful, Samantha.” Jolly takes a step closer closing the space between them. He tucks in a lock of hair behind her ear before brushing the pad of his thumb over her cheek. Sam feels her cheeks warm to the delicate touch and finds herself leaning into him. Looking up at him, his expression is soft- the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles at her. She sneaks a glance at his lips and back at his eyes hoping he didn’t notice. She wants him to kiss her, wants to feel more of his touch, wants to feel love again– but her old heart is so scared. Her heartbeat pounds in her ears as Jolly leans down, willing her eyes shut she balls her shaking hands into fists. “Stay”, she tells herself “don’t run.” His hot breath is warm against her cheek. Her heart feels like it’s going to burst from her chest– suddenly she jumps when there’s a knock at the door.

“Hey lovebirds, you two ready?” Noah yells from the other side of the door. Sam’s cheeks flame red at the nickname and she curls into herself overcome with shyness. 

“He’s an ass, isn’t he,” Jolly chuckles squeezing Sam’s shoulders. Her small smile spreads into a wide grin, “yeah he is.” He pulls her into him and she unfurls her arms to hug him back. For a few breaths, they remain as her heartbeat steadies, the scent of him soothing her senses and her nerves. 

“Ready?” he hums as he twirls his fingers in her hair. 

“Yeah,” she says softly pulling from the embrace. This time she doesn’t stop herself from threading her fingers into his as they walk to the door. When the pair reach the lobby Sam finds the rest of the band lounging on various couches and chairs and Matt is pacing. 

“The Uber is late,” Matt groans pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“I’ll drive!” Sam chimes in as she squeezes Jolly’s hand despite her insecurity still looming in the back of her mind. 

Matt stops dead in his tracks, “Are you sure?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, I'm sure,” she lets go of Jolly’s hand to walk past Matt. “Come on.” She waves over her shoulder for the band boys to follow her. Jolly meets up with Sam to open the car door for her. Before he ducks out he pecks a kiss to her cheek. She giggles as she settles in the driver's seat. 

“Alright boys, buckle up please.” She grins, looking up at the rearview mirror as Matt, Noah, Nick, Nicholas, and Bryan pile In.  A mutual groan rumbles through the car. “Yes mom,” they grumble and groan in unison. 

There are a scattering of families and couples in the theater as the pair stroll in behind the rest of the guys. Sam is about to slide in beside Nicholas when Jolly grips the back of her elbow causing her to stop. 

“Come on,” he nods his head to the top dark corner row of seats which happen to be vacant. 

Butterflies dance in her stomach as they ascend the dimly lit staircase. It’s impossibly warm when she sits down and Jolly follows suit, their knees brushing together when he hands her, her drink. Sam takes a few sips hoping the soda will quench her thirst and give her some relief; unfortunately, it does not. 

As the opening credits start, Jolly’s heart pounds in his chest as the opening credits start. He’s been waiting anxiously for this movie for as long as Nicholas has been ranting and raving about it. The one show all of them seemed to like and a tour favorite, so when Noah mentioned the movie, he could only hope that Sam would want to come too. In the corner of his eye, he sees her start to fidget with the popcorn bag nervously. Absentmindedly, he places his hand on her thigh as the scene starts.

Sam busies her hands by eating some popcorn, almost too aware of how she chews, she grips the bag a little tighter when suddenly Jolly’s hand rests on her thigh. Her body tenses to the touch. She wants to say something, to ask him to move his hand, but instead, she goes against every fiber of her being when she sets down the popcorn and places her hand on his.

“Oh, sorry,” Jolly jumps slightly when their hands touch, pulling his hand away. When Sam looks up at him, concern furrows his brows and creases the corners of his eyes. His eyes look nothing like her late husband’s and at this moment Sam has come to terms with it. She finally gives in to what her heart has been telling her all along. The pads of her fingers graze his cheek and for a few heartbeats, they exist in the space between them where nothing else matters. Her gaze drifts to his plump lips and back to his eyes. 

She nods, silently saying Yes! Please! I want to kiss you! Before pulling him in closer, their lips just barely touching. Sam squeezes her eyes shut and presses her lips onto his. When Jolly kisses her back, it’s soft yet cautious. She tilts her head, clasping his head between her hands to pull him in. A giggle erupts from her throat when his stubble brushes against her cheek, making Jolly pull away slightly. He puts a finger to her lips just as a nearby shh echoes from a few seats away. 

Jolly leans in, “I have a way to keep you quiet,” he whispers in her ear, his hot breath and suggestive tone send a shiver spider crawling down her spine. His lips ghost her cheek before replacing the finger to her lip. She invites the heat of the kiss, her hands gripping the collar of his shirt as his tongue parts her lips. When the pair are both breathless, he places a chaste kiss on her cheek. He kisses the tops of her knuckles before they find their resting place on his thigh. The world melts away in their soft embrace, hands entwined and hearts beating as one. 

Sam blinks a few times as her eyes adjust to the theater lights flickering on. Sure she has no idea what happened in the movie, but she couldn’t care less as long as she was next to Jolly. She doesn’t know what will happen next between them and right now she’s okay with that. Jolly gathers their trash and she follows closely until she can slide her hand back into his. When they reach the other guys outside, she spots them climbing into their Uber. Her stomach drops when the reality hits her that Jolly will be leaving too. She can’t help when a lump forms in her throat and her eyes prick with tears. 

“It’s time-” Jolly stops dead in his tracks when he spots the tears cascading down her cheeks. Before his feet step off the curb he turns and pulls her in tight, arms wrapping around her waist. 

“I got you,” he says low and calm as she starts to shake. “I don’t want this night to end either, Samantha. These last few days have been some of the best days on tour and I can’t thank you enough. This is not goodbye, ok?” 

He pulls back to wipe away her tears, caressing her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “Smile, pretty girl,” he smiles when she giggles and pink washes over her cheeks. “We play only a few hours away tomorrow and I snagged you VIP if you want to come. I know it’s a school night but I still wanted to offer.”  

Sam doesn’t hesitate when she wraps her arms around his neck in excitement. She knows she will be dead tired come Monday morning-thankfully just an in-service day before the end of the school year- so she can show up a little late. 

“Yes, yes I’ll be there!” 

“I can’t wait!” Jolly leans down for one more kiss. “Good night, Sam.” 

“Good night, Jolly,” she says before kissing him back. She watches as the full moon illuminates his path to the others. She smiles to herself, smitten- a feeling she hasn’t felt in so long. 

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[oflgtfol]

bracelets as a christmas gift for michaels coworker #1

#i havent made bracelets in forevar. yippie #the adjustable bracelet im sooo proud of #i got one of the wood burning tools but instead of using it to. burn wood. im just using it to melt the edges of the cording #instead of using a lighter which is sooo imprecise #this thing i can actually just press it down and melt it at the same time. so lovely #brot posts #one coworker down 3 more to go. total of 4 more bracelets #i wanna do 1 fancy stretch and 1 lower key adjustable bracelet per person #i just gotta ask to see what their fave colors are #i made a blue stretch one already i know at least one of them enjoys blue so i just dont know which one its going to #and then the other one. is a guy. and i dont think the sparkly stretch bracelet matches his style #so im just gonna do a lowkey all black adjustable bracelet for him #his is already designed i just gotta restring it 😑 #anyway i got melted leather cord smoke in my eyes and i need to be awake in like 5 hours for a 12 hour shift tomorrow #after which i’ll need to make these last four bracelets tomorrow night #so erm well i should sleep now. arugh

[azullumi]

“his habits during it” ; genshin men

warning — nsfw content ahead but nothing that graphic or explicit (seriously i tried my best to not even mention the word sex and the genitals)

summary — there’s one thing he loves to do whenever the two of you get in bed together.

characters — diluc, kazuha, ayato, kaveh, alhaitham, tighnari, cyno, zhongli, and wanderer (w/gender-neutral reader) ; no specified anatomy nor even mentioned parts

tags — kind of fluff, nsfw, not proof-read (wrote this while i was irritated and needed something to pour my attention to) ; headcanons

words — 1265

note — hey siri, how do you say they’re fucking without saying they’re fucking

handholding

DILUC — (i have already said this before) diluc likes, no, he loves the intimacy the simple act of holding one’s hand has even when two of you are just walking together side by side or when his skin is pressed against yours, lips colliding against one another, and he’s whispering words of affection to your ears—a mere distraction and a sense of comfort, grounding you and keeping you with him. it’s just that effortless gesture of intertwining his hand with yours, locking fingers, as he indulges in the way you feel around him. he squeezes your hand in the middle of it all and oh, how he melts so much when you also squeeze his own in return. he could never tell you how much you make him so soft and weak with just the slightest hold.

eye contact

KAZUHA — “don’t look away now,” he coos at you, seeing how you shy yourself and avert your gaze away from him which he obviously didn’t like. he likes seeing you coming undone while you try to remain eye contact with him—it pleases him seeing your features contort into into what you are currently feeling—, likes teasing you every time you try to look away from him and hide your expression, likes saying such remarks that gets you embarrassed most times just so he could see and watch the change of your expressions every single time. he just loves looking at you, adoring you with his eyes, especially more so when you also do the same and keep contact, gaze nailed on each other.

praises and talking dirty

AYATO — he’s a talker, both outside the matters in the bedroom and inside the sheets, so it’s no wonder that he always shower you with praises in every chance that he gets even if you’re not in the right mind to respond or even comprehend what he’s saying. he conveys most of his affections through the words that falls out of his lips, finding it so easy to say such things and teasing you with it, he can’t help it, can he? how could he not when you look so pretty—not only outside the bedroom—or beautiful, or handsome, or lovely, or anything that he could think of right at that moment when he sees you naked? Even if he had held and seen you with nothing to cover your skin so many times, he still gets mesmerized by the sight of you like it was his first time.

playing with your hair

KAVEH — he plays with it, he tugs on it, pulls on it, and everything. and though it gives him some sense of control especially when he pulls on it, it also grounds him and helps him realize the affection and love being shared between you two in this intimate moment. sometimes he only dances his fingers on your head, treating you softly and tenderly with the delicate hold of his hand on your hair, which could often provide a huge contrast to what he’s actually doing, the rough treatment he’s giving you which makes you roll your eyes and see spots in your vision. “you look so pretty like this, my love,” he would say before tugging your hair back to take a good look at your face or to tilt your head in a way that gives him more access to your neck.

lots of kisses

TIGHNARI — gently laying you down the bed? kisses you while doing so. sliding your clothes off your body? presses his lips against yours before trailing down, tracing your jaw, his mouth making its way down your neck, and resting on your collarbone. asking you consent? he kisses you before he speaks. he presses gentle kisses of adoration all over you as he pushes himself into you, your bodies becoming one in the process, providing comfort and easing you as he could feel your nails digging deep into his skin and possibly, leaving marks and wounds but he didn’t mind. his fondness and desire murmuring into you, helping you breath and regain yourself. it was clear that his way of affection was simply just kissing you.

giving orders

CYNO — he doesn’t always take the dominant position but perhaps it was the sense of authority, the power whenever he does it. he has the habit of giving orders and commands whenever you two are spending a passionate moment and seeing you willing to follow him ignites something in him—however, if you disobey him, then that’s a different matter altogether (it’s not like he hates it however. deep in him, he likes it as it gives him the pass to do more things but with your consent, of course). you’re so vulnerable, so obedient to him and it fuels his excitement further when you follow what he says. it makes him wonder, a question pondering his head, how could he have someone like you, someone as lovely and sweet as you, so good to him?

restriction / holding your hands together

ZHONGLI — no, it is not the act of locking your fingers with his as he pushes himself into you just like diluc, this one is completely different. he has big hands, we all know that zhongli’s hands are big and one of it just enough to bind both of your wrists together—he is well-aware of that fact and abuses it. he likes seeing you struggle, tugging your hand against his but his hold wouldn’t budge, at all. although zhongli hasn't explicitly told or mentioned it, he absolutely loves the way you look so helpless and weak whenever he holds your hands together, whenever he restricts your movement. oftentimes, he would have a silk ribbon—it has to be a silk ribbon—tying you up just so he could rest his hands on your hips and hold you.

hands always touching and roaming around your body

ALHAITHAM — he just loves to feel you, in general. he loves the softness of your skin underneath the tip of his fingers as he glides his hand all across your body, the warmth of you seething into his touch and being buried in his bones, and he is obsessed on the way he could feel the sweet trembles of your body underneath his hand, could sense the small shiver when he finally touches you, and he adores it and he doesn’t hesitate in conveying his affections to you, often accompanying his caresses with his words of praises and compliments. perhaps it overwhelms you, not knowing where to focus yourself on, and he loves seeing you in such a state, pushing you more and more further to the edge with his hands and mouth alone.

biting and leaving marks

WANDERER — the line between pain and pleasure soon blurs into one as he bites into you while, and one could say it serves as a distraction but it isn’t, it’s not even close to being a distraction, it’s simply something that adds to the stimulation that you are feeling, overwhelming and effectively bringing you into some sort of space. he takes joy in the sounds that you make once he buries his neck on the curve of your neck, hard but not hard enough to draw blood; he takes pride in seeing the bruises and marks that he left on you, looking at you like you were a work of art carved and sculpted into something more than perfection with his own hands.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #genshin #genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader #kaveh x reader #ayato x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #cyno x reader #tighnari x reader #alhaitham x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin smut #genshin x you #genshin headcanons #azul.writes

[angelltheninth]

Hello, I was wondering if you could write something for jjk men and their love languages.

Thank you, you're awesome 😎

I can Anon! And you are awesome too! Thank you for the ask!

Pairing: Yuuji, Sukuna, Megumi, Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Toji, Choso x Reader

Tags: fluff, kissing, praise, cuddles, gift giving, chores, cooking, PDA, being protective

A/N: I love doing love language headcanons, I always melt inside when I write them.

YUUJI + WORDS OF AFFIRMTION

No one will talk your ear off with praise more than him. It doesn't matter what the situation, alone or in public, if he sees you're feeling down he always knows what to say to lift your spirits. And lift you up to if needed, spin you around while kissing you in front of everyone and telling you how great you are.

SUKUNA + PHISICAL TOUCH

It's hard to make him stop touching you when he has his mind set on it. Which for him is almost always. Having multiple sets of arms also helps, he can cup your face while he kisses you and lift you by your thighs at the same time, pressing you against a wall to ensure maximum body contact with you.

MEGUMI + ACTS OF SERVICE

He's not a man of that many words and actually gets embarrassed quite easily when you compliment him. Which is why he will do smaller things that only you notice, mostly around your shared home. Making food, cleaning, going shopping, picking you up from work are his way of showing he cares.

GOJO + WORDS OF AFFIRMTION

There's no end to the text messages you'll get through the day from him, reminding you of how amazing you are. Some of them are really cheesy and make you roll your eyes, doubly so when you're in public and he says the same things. But you still much prefer that then him not telling you he loves you.

NANAMI + QUALITY TIME

Time is important to him, everyone knows that about him. He does his best to manages it so that he always has time to cuddle with you before work, he has to wake up earlier but that's a small price to pay for him. Will not risk being late but when he's managing time really well there's no danger of it.

GETO + GIFT GIVING

Gives you the kinds of gifts that you can wear most of the time. He wants you to show that you're his without him coming off as possessive. What better way to do that then buying you gifts? No one would say anything when he's just being a caring, giving boyfriend and neither will you.

TOJI + PHISICAL TOUCH

If he wants to touch or kiss or cuddle with you there is no force on the planet that will stop him from doing so. Gets very grumpy when he can't get the affection he wants but his anger is never with you because he loves the way you smile when he kisses you. He will be casual with it too, holding your hand or hip when you're out.

CHOSO + ACTS OF SERVICE

There isn't anything he wouldn't do for you no matter how difficult or complicated it may seem. Will bend himself over backwards to do things for you if it will get him affection and praise from you. It's how he himself asks for affection, wordlessly, but surely getting it after his work is done. He'd get it anyway but he feels like he's earned it now.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #yuuji x reader #sukuna x reader #megumi x reader #gojo x reader #nanami x reader #geto x reader #toji x reader #choso x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff #x reader

[localplaguenurse]

Casper NSFW Headcanons

I am not immune to the grim reaper babygirl even a little bit. These are more "first time" headcanons.

Mentions of male and female anatomy for MC/reader/you, dom reader, oral (giving and receiving), a lot of teasing/praising, and inexperienced Casper, topping and bottoming. Also, this gets fucking LONG. REALLY LONG. Honestly should've just written actual smut but the voices told me to write headcanons...

NSFW CONTENT BELOW CUT, 18+ MINORS DNI, RESPECT THE HONOUR SYSTEM

Since Casper has never fallen for a mortal before and is/was a workaholic, he’s inexperienced in all matters of intimacy, especially physical.

Like, if you’re not his first kiss then you haven’t kissed him yet levels of inexperienced.

The first thing you two do, after you’ve pushed him down on your bed with glee, is kiss. And it’s okay! He has really soft lips, and it’s a simple peck, so not a lot to mess up there.

It’s when you try to do deeper, longer kisses that his inexperience shows.

Should he be tilting his head more? Should he push more against you- oh god there’s your tongue, in his mouth, feeling around, does he do the same? Where does he put his hands? 

You have to really walk him through it and be patient about it. His tongue work is going to be awkward and sloppy, and you’re gonna bump teeth the first couple times, but he’ll eventually get the hang of it. 

You’ll also have to remind him that he’s allowed to pull away so he can breathe. His face is cute when red, but you don’t wanna see if it’s just as cute when it’s blue. (I mean, it’s not like it’ll kill him, but still...)

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think his flushed face, wet lips, and panting were cute though. 

Hickies are fun. It’s super easy to leave teeth marks and suck bruises on his pale skin, and it’ll make him whimper as you do. Tease him about how flustered he is over a couple love bites, and he’ll get pouty and deny it. 

In fact, he’ll wanna mark you up as revenge, but he also just only learned how to kiss like ten minutes ago so he’s gotta learn how to give hickies too. He gets frustrated when he sucks on your skin but not enough to leave a lasting mark. That said, it is fun to do, and your skin is so soft against his tongue and lips, so he’ll keep trying. 

He sits back all smug over finally leaving a bruise, but his neck is covered in teeth marks and bruises. Please, please bully him about that. 

I need to stress this right now: you can tease and bully him as much as you want, do not degrade him.

The harshest name you can call him is a slut, but it has to be wrapped in praise (i.e. “such a good little slut…”). You could probably get away with calling him pathetic in the heat of the moment every now and again, but that is it. He will not react well to degradation. He wants and needs to be praised.

Play with his hair. Pull on it so you can tilt his head back and leave kisses all over his neck and jaw. Kiss up to his ear to tell him what a good boy he’s being, your sweet little reaper. He’ll melt right then and there. 

Constantly feeling you up, it’s both his attempt at teasing you (especially with his cold hands) but mostly just him trying to figure out what he’s doing. If you tell him he’s not allowed to touch you, then he’s gonna be white knuckling the sheets. 

Another easy way to get some really pretty noises out of him? Play with his chest and nipples, they’re very sensitive. 

He’s ashamed at how easy it is to get him hard. You don’t have to do that much. Just straddle him and make out with him for a bit, let him touch your body or play with his hair. You’ll feel him press against you in no time, and he’ll whine at the friction of his pants against his cock.

Just whatever you do, don’t touch it. Don’t feel it, don’t rub it, and absolutely do not grind against it. Not unless you want him to cream his pants immediately. (Let's be honest: you do.)

Actually, you won’t even need to touch him to make him cum. All your teasing, your kissing, touching, the warmth of your skin and smell of your shampoo and your hands running through his hair and the sound of your voice, it’s too much.

You’ll feel his hips jerk and back arch, and he’ll make the prettiest little noise you’ve ever heard. It’ll take you a moment to realize what’s happened, your eyes trailing down to see the wet spot where his cock is pressed up against his pants. 

When you do finally let his cock out, it’s rock hard, dripping precum, flushed a pretty shade of pink and has a patch of white hair at the base. He keeps it well maintained, which you shouldn’t be surprised by considering his thorough skincare routine. 

Any and all bravado is out the window the exact moment you touch his cock. Whatever insult or snarky comment he had on his mind or smug look on his face is immediately gone once he feels your fingers graze it. 

You can tease him as much as you want when he’s like this and he won’t do anything about it. Can’t do anything about it. He’ll be a whiny mess for you whether he wants to be or not, but in the moment, he doesn’t care as long as you touch him. 

It won’t take much to make him cum, just pump your hand up and down while you kiss and bite at his neck, and tell him about how cute he is right now, how good he is, how he can just relax because you’re gonna take such good care of him. 

The only reason he doesn’t immediately cum is because he’s masturbated to the thought of you before so he knows what it feels like, but his “self care” is nothing compared to you yourself actually touching him. 

He will immediately cum if you go down on him. With your hand it was one thing, but your mouth is so warm and wet and your tongue feels so good he can’t hold back. 

His hips will buck up reflexively, shoving himself deeper inside by accident as his cum shoots down your throat. He’ll babble apologies profusely for it but is immediately cut off by his own sobs when you keep going.

God it would be so fun to overstimulate him. He’d be crying, tears in his eyes, babbling about how it’s too much, it feels too good, and his body’s shivering and writhing because it doesn’t know if it wants to get away or if it wants more. 

Edging would also be fun, just to hear him whine and beg for you every time you brought him to the edge, only to slow down and pull back. He’s pleading with you to let him cum, please let him cum, he’ll be good, please. How can you say no to that face?

Since you’ve treated him so nicely, it’s only fair he returns the favour and goes down on you too, right? Right. 

You’ll have to talk him through it, how you like to be touched. Go ahead and grab his hair, use it to really guide him by pulling his face closer to your sex. If he’s not all mushy by that point, he’ll tease you about being needy for him (like he’s one to talk…).

Sucking cock is simple enough, though you can see in his eyes he’s a little nervous about it. He’ll slowly pump his hand up and down as a tester, gauging if you like what he’s doing and if he should go faster. He’ll then stick his tongue out and hesitantly lick the tip, and that surprised look on his face when you moan is to die for.

It’s enough of a push that he’ll take the tip in his mouth and lightly suck on it while stroking you, and every time you groan about how fucking good his mouth feels, it encourages him to take more of you in his mouth.

Be vocal with him, but most of all, be patient. Tell him what he’s doing right and what you want him to do, guide him by his hair if you wanna, but don’t expect him to be ready to deepthroat you yet. He’s still gotta work on that, so just savour the feelings he’s giving you now.

Let him know when you’re going to come, and more importantly, where, because otherwise he won’t know what to do. If you don’t wanna cum in his mouth, he’ll pull himself away and keep jerking you off until you cum. Try not to cum on his face, as tantalizing as the sight is. You can maybe get away with it once on purpose, or if it’s an accident.

Casper’s not a spitter, but he’s not a swallower? He actually doesn’t know what to do when you cum in his mouth. He’ll literally sit there with his mouth full and dick hard just staring at you until you either tell him to swallow or give him something to spit in. Call him a good boy when he swallows. Or if he doesn’t. Just call him a good boy either way.

It takes him some time to figure out how to eat you out right, but luckily for him it still feels really nice when he’s practicing. 

His fingering technique needs a little work, mostly because he’s very unsure of himself. One’s not enough, two looks and certainly sounds good on your end, does he need to add more, or will that hurt? He wants to make sure he’ll fit when he gets to the big finish, but three fingers feels excessive, unless you like that? Is he going too fast, too slow, too deep, not deep enough? Does he curl his fingers here? Oh, you squeezed his fingers just now, that means he’s doing something good, but what’s he doing?

Thank god for the clitoris. Finds it without you having to guide him because it’s literally at the top, it’d be harder not to find it. All you need to tell him is your preferred pace and he’ll rub at it with ease, taking immense pride at how quickly you fall apart with that dumb little smile. (Just ignore him grinding against the bedsheets or stroking his cock, he’s totally in control right now.)

Kinda like with giving head, he starts with little kitten licks to your clit before getting more confident as he listens to your moans and praises. He’ll especially love it if you push his face into you so he can suck and lick harder. He’ll groan against you unintentionally, but when he hears the sound you make at the vibrations of his mouth, he’ll latch onto your clit and start humming and sucking as hard as he can.

Loves the feeling of you cumming on his tongue. The way your hips buck up, the way you tighten your grip on his hair, grinding against his face, your juices slathered all over his lips and tongue, gods he’ll never get over it. He’ll clean you up with his tongue and sit up, trying to look smug, but he’s not fooling anyone with the flushed face, the hearts in his eyes, or the wet patch on the front of his pants.

He’ll think you’re weird if you wanna kiss him after he goes down on you, but quickly shuts up once you plant your lips on his. Your tongue in his mouth is a very compelling argument.

Now comes the part he’s been most excited and nervous for; actually being inside you.

You are taking the lead regardless, because he doesn’t know what to do. Well, he knows, but he’s not fully confident in his abilities.

Just lay him back, tell him all he has to do is relax. You’ll take such good care of him.

He is tense when he feels you straddling him, your bare sex rubbing up against his teasingly. He wants to tell you to get on with it already, but his mind is in a daze and the only thing he can focus on is telling himself not to cum yet, you haven’t even put it in.

He’s gripping your bed sheets or your hips as tight as he can when he feels you finally start to sink down on his cock. He can cover his mouth, grit his teeth, whatever, but you KNOW that boy is whimpering inch by inch.

It’s enough that once you actually make it to the base, he’s reduced to the most pitiful mess of a grim reaper, trying so hard to keep what little composure he has, and the two of you have hardly started?

He will not last long in this state. The feel of your tight warm walls hugging around him so tight, and the way you move up and down his length is too much for him to handle.

He’s sorta sensitive about how quickly he cums, so you have to be careful about how, when, and if you tease him about it. You can tease him when he creams his pants, so long as it’s along the lines of “you feel that good already?” 

When he cums prematurely inside you, be gentle with him, coo in his ear that it’s okay, it happens sometimes, you’re happy you make him feel so good, he’s being such a good boy for you.

And then you milk that poor boy for everything he’s worth. Watch his teary eyes roll back as his hips buck up to meet yours, shooting load after load until you’ve drained him of everything he’s got. He’ll be incoherent, sobbing and muttering “please please please” because it’s the only thing he’s able to say.

Hold his hand.

As if this google doc I’m writing in isn’t long enough, let’s talk pegging.

He’s going to be nervous about bottoming, he won’t even pretend he’s not. He doesn’t really know what he’s getting into, but he’s willing to try so long as you talk him through what you need to do.

In theory it’s all good, until he has your fingers thrusting into his hole, pressing into his sweet spot while you purr in his ear about all the things you’re going to do to him tonight. He really should have seen that coming considering it’s his Sunshine we’re talking about here, but he’s in too much pleasure to complain.

He’ll be too embarrassed to be face to face with you, so you suggest doing it from behind. Again, great in theory, until you have him face down ass up with your chest to his back. This position is arguably more embarrassing, but Casper is also stubborn and at least you can’t see his face.

Kiss all over his neck and shoulder blades and along his spine, it’ll make him shiver.

You have to take it really slow at first, of course. It’s his first time doing something like this, and you don’t wanna hurt him. Once you’ve slowly inched yourself to the base, give him a minute to get used to the fullness.

You’ll start slow and soft, but you don’t have to stay that way. In fact, he’ll love it if you start going faster, harder, deeper. He wants to feel you hit his prostate again and again, making him see stars every time you do.

You don’t even need to touch his cock, he’ll be falling apart anyways with the way you fuck him, but it’s so fun to overstimulate him anyways so go ahead, jerk him off while you do it.

He’ll try to muffle his sounds in the pillows. Sure, you can let him because it’s honestly really cute, but you can also pull him away by either tugging his hair or grabbing him by the jaw and lifting his head up. He’ll be a drooling, teary eyed mess, but he’s your teary eyed mess. Make sure you tell him that.

If you can, don’t be shy filling him up either. When he’s all fucked out, the feeling is absolutely addicting. Will probably get grumpy about the mess once he’s in a clearer headspace, but he’s also not gonna tell you to stop.

Oh, he’ll be nothing but mush when you two are done the deed. Not only is he too tired and blissed out to move, but he’ll be so cuddly and sweet, murmuring about how much he loves you and how good you are to him, for him. (He will vehemently deny he was that sappy once he’s snapped out of it though.)

Cuddles are absolutely mandatory post sex, he needs a little skin on skin time and to relish in the afterglow before the two of you get cleaned up.

It’s as you two are huddled together under the covers, about to fall asleep, that you hear Casper groggily mumble a little “thank you,” for treating him so well for his first time and showing him the ropes.

He’ll smirk at you and say that next time he’s going to use his knowledge against you, but both of you know that it doesn’t matter how experienced he is, it’s not gonna happen. 

You don’t get the chance to poke fun at him about it though, as he’s already fallen asleep. You kiss his forehead and cuddle up closer.

#a date with death #nsft #not safe for tumblr #nsft headcanon #casper a date with death #oooooo look at me being aesthetic now with the header #anyways enjoy your meal #this took too long

[stevebabey]

part one here. ze part two to touch-starved stevie that absolutely no one requested hehe <3 but i gots to let my boys have a wee kiss :")

So, hugs with Eddie become… well, a thing.

Not a thing. They’re not a thing, Steve and Eddie. It’s totally the same as when he gets hugs from Robin. Eddie’s doing him a favour as a friend. It’s got the 100% platonic energy of getting a hug from a friend — a hug that usually melts into some form of a cuddle, limbs all tangled together until they can’t tell whose are whose.

Except, Steve doesn’t really do that second part with Robin. Like he hasn’t done it ever with Robin.

So, it’s an Eddie thing.

But they’re not a thing. Not matter how much Steve would actually very much like for that happen. Okay, maybe Steve’s overthinking the whole thing a bit, but he just can’t tell.

Where’s the line? It’s infuriating not being able to discern between platonic and more, just because Steve wasn’t held enough as a fucking baby. Out of all the things he resents his parents for, Steve’s surprised that this is so near the top.

Because, sure, Steve’s had more than his fair share of hookups. He knows that sort of touch. He knows the shape of lust; the scrapes of fingernails down backs, the tight grips over skin, the push and pull of the heat of the moment.

And this thing with Eddie… is not that.

So, really, Steve knows that it’s all friendly. Eddie is just being nice. He’s being a decent dude and helping his friend out — by catapulting himself into Steve’s arms at every opportune moment.

(Steve’s only dropped 3 mugs of coffee because of this so far. It’s only because Eddie says good catch, big boy with a devilish grin every time that Steve manages to catch Eddie that Steve hasn’t completely told him to knock it off. Just yet, at least.)

And he’s different in other areas. He’ll always seem to choose the seat next to Steve on movie-nights now, content to snuggle right up to him. They get thigh to thigh, arm to arm — and Eddie only needs to get about 20 minutes in for him to do a big sigh, like an old dog, and slump over, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve notices though. He always notices.

It’s impossible not to— the skin, even if there’s 3 layers between them, burns blazing warm. Eddie’s hair drapes over his arm, a curl inevitably tickling along Steve’s collar. He can feel the rise and fall of Eddie’s breathing, the little shake of when he laughs.

It drives Steve a little insane— insane in the way that makes him think about burying his fingers in those curls again, about pressing his lips against Eddie’s pretty mouth just to feel the smile against his skin, about digging into his chest so he can climb into his chest and live there.

Yeah, it’s— well, it’s safe to say that the effect of Eddie’s touchiness has sent what was once a fleeting thought of a crush into mind-melting levels of affection.

But he can’t fucking tell.

-

To Steve’s credit, neither can Eddie.

Which is not surprisingly considering sometimes he catches himself wondering how the hell he ended up here; in a close-knit friendship with band-geek Robin Buckley, princess Nancy Wheeler, and King Steve Harrington.

Okay, the Robin one sort of makes sense. He thinks that if no matter when their paths crossed, he and Robin would’ve always even some sort of strange friends - her snark complimenting his bitchiness. Also, the whole super queer thing helps too. Even the friendship with Nancy works, in its own weird way.

Steve though? He’s the fucking curve ball.

It works though, the two of them. Surprisingly well, actually — the two of them get on like a house on fire, bitchy quips back and forth. Even better, is the quiet that they can share. Steve loves to come around and do… nothing. Do nothing with Eddie, though.

So, even though Eddie had noticed the tension in Steve with touch, little moments where he turned rigid when Eddie’s usual wandering hands got too comfortable — Eddie chalked it up to the usual. Guys bring too uncomfortable with him, too weird about another guy being touchy. It didn’t matter than Eddie wasn’t even out to Steve yet, he was still might be that type of guy.

Well, Eddie had certainly thought so. Sure, Steve might not be one of those jocks who smacked around boys who looked too long in the locker room, but if he knew a smidge of the truth, who really knows. It would explain the tenseness at least.

But then— ‘Can I… have a hug?’ There had been a dozen things Eddie was thinking that Steve could’ve asked for but that? Wasn’t even in the ballpark. It was so left-field it left Eddie speechless for a whole moment. And Steve had been staring at the ceiling, his hands curled up tight again like- like he thought Eddie might say no.

A ridiculous thought, honestly. Anyone who knew Eddie well enough knew he was touchy; loved giving it, loved getting it. Like an overly affectionate cat, Wayne had once called him, just 11 years old, because Eddie’s need for affection seem to never be sated.

After that night, Steve’s lack of touch became far more obvious. It’s always hair ruffles or high-fives, yet never hugs. Normally, Eddie would keep to that boundary; some people are less touchy other than others, he knows that.

But… “Sometimes I realise it’s been awhile, since I’ve had some touch.” That’s what Steve had said, his words. Eddie doesn’t even think he meant to say something so heartbreaking. In fact, the guy seemed embarrassed.

It had thrown Eddie for a loop— because Steve gets around. He’s nearly notorious for one-night stands and failed flings, as Robin loves to drone on about considering she’s subjected to all the flirting. What had originally been a point of envy for Eddie, just saturates the bleakness of Steve’s words. Sex but without a moment of intimacy.

So, while Eddie is miles away from being the person who gets into Steve’s pants — not for lack of want, mind you — he does try hike up the touchiness. Little things. Lingering when he taps him on the arm, hooking his chin over Steve’s shoulder to peer over it, leaning up against him when they’re side by side watching a film.

It’s good. It helps Eddie release the pressure of his stupid monumental god-awful crush he has. Yeah, yeah, it’s laughable, even to Eddie. It’s like Gay 101; don’t get crush on straight dudes, especially the ones you’re friends with. And yet…

Steve lets him. He lets Eddie give him touch, more than he lets anyone else. He still tenses; there’s still always a moment before he can remember to relax, like he’s trying to shake off bad thoughts but then he melts. He always melts into Eddie’s touch eventually — in a way Eddie knows Steve actually loves it, drinks it up as much as he can.

And maybe, Eddie is the biggest fool to grace the Earth to let that fact give him some hope. Sue his gooey heart, he’s a romantic. It’s a quiet hope but, it’s there.

Tonight, it seems relaxing for Steve is been harder than usual— several times has Eddie traced a quite long along Steve’s arms, a subtle point that they were far too tense for someone who was wrapped up in cuddles on the couch. ‘Cos that’s 100% what they are now. Eddie will still call them hugs, but usually, when it’s just the two of them, it becomes this.

Steve, tucked up into the corner of the couch, one leg flush along the back of the couch and one hanging off the edge. It’s the prime position for Eddie to crawl up, wind his arms around Steve’s middle and give him a good squeeze and then settle there. Head on Steve’s chest, lying in the cradle of his hips. Safe. Warm.

It makes him warm, oh very warm to know that he gets this. That Steve doesn’t give this amount of trust to many, if any, other people but Eddie — he trusts Eddie.

“Y’know,” Eddie says, cheeks smushed against the plain of Steve’s pec. It feels deliciously warm and Eddie’s fairly sure he can feel how toned it is just through his cheek. Hot bastard. “I’m actually real glad you asked for that hug all those weeks ago.”

He leaves it there ‘cos he knows Steve will ask. Eddie’s eyes stay on the buzzing tv-screen even as Steve’s head shifts, turning to peer down at the boy slumped on his chest. Eddie’s pretty sure he can see Steve’s mouth twitch up into a smile.

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” Eddie affirms, giving a nod and his eyes flick up to meet Steve’s for just a moment. “Think I’ve had some of the best hugs in the world.”

Okay, that was maybe more honest and sappy than Eddie was going for. He is just letting Steve know he isn’t just doing it for Steve — that he enjoys these moments just as much. He lays it on thick, tries for a smarmy angle.

“Swept up in these pillowy arms?” He croons, giving Steve’s bicep a quick squeeze, making the other chuckle softly. “Who wouldn’t think so? I’m a lucky guy.”

Despite the joking tone, there’s no quick comeback from Steve. That’s alright. Eddie’s quite happy if this is one of the times Steve just takes the compliment; let’s the word sink in and hopefully, believes them, even if it’s just a little bit. He watches the film and doesn’t read into the silence.

Not even when Steve says, “Eddie?” all soft. Nearly shy sounding. It doesn’t quite register to Eddie’s ears.

“Mm?”

“Eddie.” Steve says again, a little firmer and that catches Eddie’s attention. He turns his head and rests his chin on Steve’s chest, his brows drawn together in silent question.

But the moment he makes eye contact, Steve’s doing that scrunched up face again. Is studying the ceiling instead of facing Eddie. And just like all those weeks ago, his hands clench up tight. Twists up the fabric of Eddie’s sweater in between his fingers and uses it to ground himself.

Last time, he asked for a hug. Considering he’s currently just about squishing Steve beneath his body weight, Eddie can’t fathom what he might be worked up to ask for. Unless he was going to ask for something more than a hug— which, well, just wasn’t going to happen, even if Eddie really wanted it to.

“Can I-” Steve starts. He sucks in a breath, almost like he’s gathering courage. But he’s not, because he’s not about to ask for what Eddie hopes for, he’s not, he’s—

Unless…?

“Can I… have a kiss?” Steve asks, barely audible. The sentence is murmured, soft words that hit Eddie like a gentle kiss in itself — imprinting right onto his heart. Steve Harrington wants a kiss — from him!

“Oh.” Eddie says, in a breathy delightful way. He’s fairly certain the little monkey in his brain is clapping its cymbals at double-speed as the words process; or maybe it’s his heart, which feels like it’s leapt up his throat.

“Oh?” Steve echoes, a smile already playing at the edges of his mouth, because he can see Eddie’s want. Because he knows him.

“Yes.” Eddie says suddenly, with a frantic nod, pushing up closer so their faces are aligned. “Yes, absolutely, you can.” He affirms.

Steve huffs a quiet laugh at the eagerness and then his arm that had been slung around Eddie shifts. It moves up til his hand caresses along the line of Eddie’s jaw, tilting him just how he likes.

Eddie holds his breath. Counts the freckles he can see this close. Tries to feel Steve’s heartbeat through where they’re pressed so closely together; can Steve feel his? Thundering and hurried, beating so hard Eddie thinks he might bruise the inside of his ribs.

Then Steve kisses him. And shit, Steve’s lip are better by ten-fold than every daydream Eddie’s ever had about them. They’re warm and so soft — plush and pressing against his own and Eddie is freezing. Fuck, wait, how does this go again? Right, Eddie’s never… well, kissed anybody before.

Steve pulls back and Eddie screws his eyes up — not ready in the slightest for the disappointment of his own shoddy kissing skills. Fuck, did he really just freeze? Steve — Steve Harrington — asks for a kiss and Eddie decides to stab himself in the back by not figuring out how to fuck to kiss back.

“You call that a kiss?” Steve teases and Eddie’s well aware of the parallel — of the irony of Steve repeating his own words back at him. But he can’t make himself laugh even though it’s funny. Instead, a little groan wiggles out his throat.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, earnest. He forces his eyes opens — he needs to see what’s Steve’s thinking. Where he’s expecting disappointment or perhaps regret, is only patience. Maybe a touch of concern. Eddie continues, despite the humiliation that makes his throat sticky.

“I haven’t- I don’t do this often.” He coughs awkwardly clearing his throat and hoping it hides the next word. “Ever.”

There’s a jump in Steve’s eyebrows, a moment of surprise in his eyes that lets him know he did, indeed, hear that final word. It makes Eddie feel… well, it’s nice that Steve had expected him to have been kissed by now. Even if he hasn’t. He tries to take it as a compliment.

“That’s okay,” Steve assures. Absentmindedly, his thumb rubs soothing along Eddie’s jaw. It makes Eddie shiver, some outrageous amount of joy clawing into every nerve. Steve likes Eddie. He wants to kiss Eddie.

“Do you want to try again?”

Eddie nods before the questions even out of his mouth. Steve smiles, all sunshine. This time when he draws Eddie in, he notices the way Eddie holds his breath — the rigidness in his body.

Steve kisses him again, another short and soft one and then whispers against his lips, “Relax.”

‘Cos isn’t tonight just full of the parallels, Eddie thinks. He listens, tries to focus on how sweet Steve’s kiss is than his panicky heart, forcing out a breath between the kisses. His hands along Steve’s sides find a grip, grounding and good, and by the fourth kiss, he begins to feel a bit melty.

It’s good. It’s really good. Kissing Steve is top 5– nay, the top moment of his life so far. Somehow, it’s made all that much better knowing the build-up behind it. Knowing that Steve knows he isn’t just kissing him for a heat of the moment — that Eddie wants kisses here, kisses before bed, in the morning, on dates. Eddie wants Steve.

And with the way he kisses, Eddie’s pretty sure Steve wants him just as bad.

It doesn’t take long for Steve to reach what Eddie decides is an ultra pretty fuckin’ state; lips swollen from kisses, cheeks flushed, hair a little mussed up. He bets he looks no better. The thought makes him grin, enough they have to break the kiss ‘cos Eddie can’t stop his stupid happy grin ‘cos shit— he actually gets to have this Steve.

“What?” Steve asks, somehow half heart-eyed and half suspicious at the mischief in Eddie’s eyes.

“Can I... have a hickie?”

now with a part three !

#at this point call this the 'can i' series #sweet boys asking each other for things they most certainly would be given <3 #but don't think they will <3 #tried to flip it and make it so even tho eddie is used to touch. the romantic touch? he's got none! that's where he's touch-starved #ALSO EVERYONE'S TAGS WERE SO NICE ON THE LAST ONE #trust i am. not feelin so bad nowadays (me saying this like 4 days later lmao) #but <3 thank u all #gay ppl in my phone.... you know what to do #ruby writes steddie #steve x eddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #touch-starved steve harrington #not rlly anymore hehe #does anyone notice that it ends with yet another 'can i?" question? HEHE #yet again stib gets kisses where ruby doesn't but alas <3 dis is way fluffier this time #nearly went the angst route! and went hmmmm naur #ok ok i'll be quiet now

[devilfic]

part two to this because I can't stop thinking about them

you're actually really good at this.

miguel can count on one hand, maybe a few fingers less than that, the number of times he's met his match. not many could keep up with him, could take a blow from the full weight of his fist and stay standing, but you can. and you're relentless.

he could be shaking with rage and by the time he's spent sparring with you, you're still grinning with all the energy you had from when you first started. it's the thing that really excites you, he notices: the thrill of the chase, the struggle, the victory and defeat. because he never sees you get like that unless he's taking you. to the mat.

you get this feverish look in your eyes that he doesn't know how to satiate yet, but he likes testing your limits the same way you test his. he likes seeing that excitement on your face, it makes him keep coming back for more.

until he splits your cheek open.

you hadn't calculated correctly, hadn't considered how close his talon would come to your face until it had torn the skin beneath your eye in two. the blood dribbles down your cheek.

miguel's eyes go wild. when he first felt the resistance against his claw, he'd thought of much, much worse. he'd stood there, hand hovering between the two of you in a stunned silence waiting for something worse to happen. he watched the red pearl at the cut, so slim that had it been anyone else, he wouldn't have even hesitated, "shit."

you touch a finger to the blood, smearing it, "it's okay, it's nothing."

it is nothing. to anyone else in the spider society, it would be nothing. the super healing would kick in and wouldn't even scar. and he'd seen you heal before, had left bruises on you that mended themselves within hours.

he presses his thumb to the cut. a bead of your blood sits on the surface of his finger, a reminder that as strange and wonderful and powerful as you are, you bleed all the same. you watch him, curious, "you can have some. if you want."

his eyes flicker to you with that same shock from when you'd first caught him off guard, "what?"

you gesture to his thumb, "my blood. I don't mind it."

miguel stares, "I'm not a vampire."

"that's what gwen called you."

"I'm... spiders have fangs."

you frown, "then why-"

"are you sure you're okay?" miguel asks, even though he sees for himself that the blood has stopped. soon, your skin would sew itself back together. soon, this wouldn't even matter.

you soften. you melt. miguel doesn't know what to do with all the warmth in your expression... "of course. I can handle you, o'hara. no need to be gentle." and there you go again. you know exactly what you're doing when you say those words and look up at him like that. he feels hot under the collar. he presses his thumb into your cheek and smears the blood even more, but you just laugh, "I knew you had a soft spot for me."

his grumble is meant to be a growl—a warning—but he comes off sounding like a puppy who's bitten off more than he could chew, "not in this universe."

part three

taglist: @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @internal-soundtrack

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara scenarios #miguel o'hara imagines #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #marvel #mjwrites #rocking back and forth in a straight jacket: when it comes to a snack pack I can't lie I wanna ride (ride)

[lexirosewrites]

Steddie as rival lawyers who have very different careers.

Steve became a prosecuting attorney after graduating from a top school at his parents’ insistence. It pays well and makes them happy, even if it’s joyless for him to fight for things he doesn’t believe in.

Prosecuting innocent people and fighting for the sake of money without morals.

On the other end of the spectrum is free-spirited Eddie Munson. He’s a defense attorney who shows up in ill-fitting suits that show off his many neck and hand tattoos. Piercings in his ears and hair that’s not tidy or tamed in any way.

He’s a rebel who barely graduated from some lower tier law school with no prestige whatsoever.

Steve naturally assumed their first trial would be a breeze.

But somehow— sheer dumb luck, bad jury selection, or just stupid fate— Eddie wins. And he keeps winning.

Over and over for months.

Steve’s long uninterrupted winning streak becomes a losing one. If Eddie’s in the courtroom too, Steve knows he’s already lost his case.

It’s humbling.

Actually, it’s frankly embarrassing to lose to someone who’s so unprofessional and doesn’t take the law seriously like Steve.

Eddie is respectful of course, but he doesn’t use lawyer-speak unless he’s referencing a precedent of a law. Other than that, he’s overly casual and friendly. Everyone’s favorite lawyer.

He doesn’t lack passion though. No, the guy all but hops up on tables to make speeches about freedom or the American dream during every trial. Utterly ridiculous.

It works though. The juries fall for his bullshit about being down to earth and his clients walk free because of it.

Steve can’t stand it. He can’t stand Eddie and his mockery of his career.

This ultimately culminates in a confrontation in the parking lot one night after a particularly tense trial conclusion.

Once again, Eddie’s guy walked free and Steve knows he’s gonna hear about it from his boss (who also happens to be his dad).

So he might snap a bit when Eddie comes out whistling and looking happier than anything.

“Hey, jackass!”

Eddie looks around like Steve might be referring to some other jackass, despite the otherwise empty parking lot.

He points to himself in question and Steve rolls his eyes in answer.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Eddie finally greets him with a smirk. “Chinese takeout for tonight sound good?”

Steve’s stomach growls at the mere suggestion.

He’d accidentally skipped lunch earlier so he could make changes to his closing argument. Fat load of good that did him.

“Yeah, sure, whatever. You’re not off the hook that easily though. What the hell was that brutal cross examination on my witness, you dickhead?”

Eddie smiles extra sweetly and presses a quick but affectionate kiss to Steve’s forehead first.

“All’s fair in love, war, and court, baby. You can whine about it later when we’re home if you really want to. I happen to know some very nice pillows that would love to muffle your pretty little moans.”

Asshole.

He blushes, glancing around to make sure they’re still alone before he pulls Eddie into an embrace.

They’ve barely spent any time together this week because of the tense trial and he really missed his boyfriend (not to be mistaken for the jackass who argues with him daily in the courtroom).

As much as they can separate their personal and work lives, it’s hard to not be on the same side of things.

“What if I want you to hear me moan, Eddie? I think it’s only fair since you seem to get everyone else off and I’m the one always suffering for it,” he mumbles snarkily into Eddie’s shirt.

Eddie laughs at the pun. He knew that he would.

“Is that why you’re sulking, babylove? You want me to get you off too?” He nods with a pathetic whine. Not getting to cum for a few days can do that to a person. “I think that can be arranged. You’ve been such a good boy for me lately. You’ve earned a treat.”

Steve melts into his boyfriend’s arms, feeling loved.

“I missed you.”

Another kiss to the forehead, but this time Eddie’s lips linger there as he speaks.

“Missed you too, sweetheart. Not sorry for winning, but I am sorry that you lost.”

Steve knew the defendant was innocent. There wasn’t much of a case to be made anyway. It still stings though.

“Yeah... I’ve been thinking about that and it might be time to quit my dad’s firm. I’d much rather be on the same side as you,” Steve confesses.

Eddie pauses.

“Does that mean…”

Steve looks up smiling and confirms, “Yes. I’ll accept the job offer if it’s still on the table.”

The rival lawyer had offered him a job months ago, before they even got together.

By accepting the position, it means they’d finally be allowed to be a couple publicly and they’d be sitting on the same side of the court for once.

It would also free Steve from his dad’s control and disappointment.

“Stevie, I’d love nothing more than to have you as my partner. In both the court and life. I love you, sweetheart.”

He can’t resist.

“I love you too… jackass.”

Eddie makes good on his promise to get Steve off that night. He even brings out the handcuffs for accuracy sake.

#don’t ask me how we got here because I have no idea #enemies to lovers as rival lawyers makes sense maybe #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie ficlet

[dearhargrove]

Hi there! I have an eddie diaz request please. I don't know if you've seen the boyfriend door lean on tiktok but I was thinking eddie either comes across it and tries it on reader to see if it works (reader is a bookworm) or he does it without knowing what it is and reader melts (in either scenario) and she explains and shows it to him and he says he'll have to do it more often? All cute fluffy and adorable if you can please. Thank you!!

summary Eddie finds out about the 'door frame lean' thing on tiktok and tries it on you.

word count 950

tags fluffy and a bit spicy, Chris!!, Eddie's a menace

a/n hope I did this request justice because I absolutely adore that idea! Need someone to do this for me? Also Eddie would most definitely do this at any chance after realising how it had you going crazy 😭 I used this tiktok as a reference by the way!

masterlist

You're sitting up against the headboard with your book in your hands and a glass of wine on the nightstand next to you, simply passing time until your boyfriend comes home from his 24 hour shift.

You're almost done with it when you hear the front door open and close, a bag being dropped on the floor and shoes messily discarded next to the shoe rack (it seems no matter how many times you get mad at him for not putting his shoes away he forgets it and repeats the same mistake).

Moments later you see him walk along the hallway to your shared bedroom. His hair is messy instead of combed back like it was this morning when he'd made sure to ask you if it looked good, and the exhaustion is clear on his face.

You close your book after putting the bookmark between the pages you were reading and look at him with a smile that he easily reciprocates.

“Rough shift?” you move off the bed and walk to lean against the door frame as he approaches. “Yeah. People are stupid,” you chuckle and he stops in front of you, reaching his left hand up and placing it on the door frame and easily leaning his head down to look at you.

You're entirely caught off guard, not sure whether to look into his eyes or focus on the fact that this position was very flattering on his biceps. You swallow nervously which he catches and tilts his head with a small smirk.

“What? Why do you look nervous, amor?” He asks huskily and puts his other hand on your waist. That's just about your last straw and you fluster and look away, “Uh, no, just- how was your shift?”

He laughs and lets go of the door frame to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you closer until he can reach your neck and bury his face in it. You're pretty sure he can feel your pulse being abnormally high from where he'd placed his head, so in hopes of not making him aware of how crazy this entire situation had you going you bury your hands in his hair and gently scratch his scalp. Something you knew would make him melt any time you did it.

He grunts and his arms tighten around your waist, fingers pressing into the middle of your lower back. “Fuck,” he mumbles, “That feels good.”

Your whole ruse to distract him backfired because he just kept getting more sexy and you're pretty sure he either knew exactly what he was doing or was totally unaware of the effect this whole interaction was having on you.

“Dad, you're home!” Chris distracts both of you and Eddie kisses your pulse point and squeezes your waist again before crouching down to lift Chris into his arms and hug him tight. “Hey, buddy. Aren't you supposed to be asleep? It's almost nine thirty.”

You watch them and take the moment to gather your wits again because, oh my god. You'll never be able to read about the door frame lean in a book again without thinking about this.

Later that night when you're both in bed, his head placed on your chest as he patiently waits for you to finish reading the chapter so you could play with his hair, he looks up at you, “I didn't actually believe that door frame thing would work.”

Your jaw drops and you look at him with furrowed brows, “What do you mean?”

“That.. what's it called? Booktok. Buck was talking about it because he thought it was funny and mentioned how I should know what that is since you read so much. I didn't so I looked it up. Who knew you'd fold so easily?” He teases and you glare at him in slight embarrassment and take your hand from his hair.

“Stop teasing me about it.” He laughs and shakes his head, “Never. You looked way too cute, though I almost got worried with how high your pulse was getting…”

You gasp and flick his forehead with your index finger, about to throw some insult at him when the door opens and Christopher stands in the doorway.

Eddie sits up and you put your book on the nightstand, “Chris? Everything okay, love?” You ask and he pouts. “Nightmare. Can I sleep here tonight?”

You look at Eddie with a worried expression and he slightly shrugs but scoots to the side to make space for the ten year old. He crawls into the middle of you and you pull the blanket up to his shoulders. He looks at you with big eyes and you smile, knowing what he wanted, before carding your hand through his hair. He hums happily and Eddie looks at you slightly offended, “He's stealing your attention.”

You snort and roll your eyes, “You can wait until he's asleep.” Chris grins happily at his father and then at you. “I'm cuter anyway,” Eddie gasps and you laugh as the two banter.

One look at the clock though and you're shushing them both with a forehead kiss, “Alright now, time to sleep.” Eddie looks happy with himself, taking that as him getting all your attention now and you raise one eyebrow, “You too.”

Chris giggles and then settles down, same as Eddie after he scowls at you. You click off the small lamp on your nightstand and see Chris already snoozing with Eddie watching him fondly.

Placing your hand in Eddie's hair instead you whisper ‘I love you’ which he repeats and puts his arm over Chris to put his hand on your hip, falling asleep not long after.

#eddie diaz imagine #eddie x reader #eddie diaz fanfic #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz 911 #eddie diaz #ryan guzman x reader #ryan guzman #that door lean thing has me feral ngl

[mediumgayitalian]

Nico wakes up with a mouthful of hair.

“Are you serious.”

He sticks out his tongue, trying to get it out of his mouth without spitting on it, giving up after about four point three seconds of trying. He wriggles his arm out from where it’s pinned between his body and Will’s, flicking the last few strands off his tongue. For good measure, he kicks the first thing he can reach — his boyfriend’s thighs, go figure — in protest.

“Please, no,” Will mumbles tiredly, batting blindly under the cover until he slaps on big hand over Nico’s ankle, squeezing. “Please. I got in at three thirty last night. It’s barely seven. Please.”

Nico sighs, relaxing his muscles. Will presses a brief kiss to his shoulder in gratitude, face buried in his chest, sinking boneless into him.

“The whole knowing the time without a clock thing will never stop being weird,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to a freckled forehead. He rubs his hands over Will’s bare shoulders, digging his thumbs along the knotted muscles, and smiles as he groans, trying in vain to plaster somehow closer to Nico, practically melting into him. “Gracie keep you up all night?”

He shifts as he nods. “Harley, too. Poor things just want someone to hold their hair outta their face and rub their back, they’re so miserable.”

Nico hums in sympathy. It’s flu season — hitting the little kids, mostly. Will has been on his feet for days trying to mitigate symptoms, soothe aching bones and sore throats. There’s not too much he can do for the flu, but the kids are miserable and they trust him, so his presence is more of a cure and a comfort than anything.

“Kayla there now?”

“Austin and Lou. Kayla’s on after lunch; Piper’s with her.”

“Good.” He squeezes his shoulders again, leaning down to press a long, lingering kiss right between his eyes. He leans into it, sighing. “Sleep for a bit, okay? I’ll come check on you, but I don’t want you up before 2.”

“‘Kay,” Will sighs, unconscious again by the time Nico’s wiggled out of his hold. For a moment he stands, watching him: his bare, broad back, spattered with dark freckles and moles, dipping at the base of his spine and covered barely by the soft, white sheets; arms curled up all the way around his face in Nico’s absence, bicep squeezing his cheek, pursing his delicate Cupid’s bow; long, light eyelashes fanning over round cheeks; even, steady breathing, in and out, in and out.

Golden hair, of course, frizzy and messy and poofing out around his head; haloed in the early morning sun.

He’s barely able to tear himself away to go shower.

———

“They’re everywhere,” says Kayla in disgust, peeling a long, curly strand off her shirt. “I haven’t been in the same room as him in two days. This is a brand-new shirt. How am I still somehow covered in his hair?”

“He’s like a dog,” Austin explains. Nico snorts. “He sheds, and at first it’s subtle, here and there, you get used to it. The suddenly two years go by and people are complimenting the fur coat that was not fur before you bought it.”

Gracie sticks out her bottom lip, eyes watering. “Will is not a dog, he’s a boy!”

Austin groans, muttering something about favourites and annoying older brothers and where was this energy when I ate the last secret cabin twinkie and was accused of being a ratbag, huh, Gracie, where was my defense squad and annoying older brothers again. Gracie is unmoved by his whining, glaring at him with big green eyes — ever her oldest brother’s defender.

Nico hides a smile in his hand. No wonder, with how Will dotes on her. On all his siblings, really, but only Yan and Gracie are young enough that it doesn’t embarrass them.

Kayla and Austin, on the other hand. (At this point, Will enjoys embarrassing them in front of their friends as much as the actual doting.)

Kayla, weak to her sister’s pouting, pokes her playfully in the side. “I’m only teasing, Gracie-girl. Of course Will isn’t a dog.”

“Except the shedding, and the constant yapping, and the fact that if you don’t let him loose to run around for a while he goes batty, and of course the following Nico around like a lovesick pup—”

“Thank you, Austin,” Nico interrupts, clearing his throat. He sends a quick prayer of thanks to his father for hair genetics covering his flaming ears.

Austin snickers. “Anytime.”

After three years it’s futile, but sometimes Nico really considers rescinding his doctor’s note. Is sitting here during meals really worth his peace? Is it?

“He really does shed, though,” Kayla says after a moment of silence. She pinched yet another hair off her shirt, sighing. “Like, not to agree with Austin or anything —”

“Hey!”

“— but, like, damn. If he’s been there, you know it.”

Nico snorts. “Tell me about it. I keep finding hair on my pillows, it’s driving me insane.”

It does drive him insane. He finds it in the shower — although to his credit Will really does try to get them all there — and in his hairbrush, on his clothes, his sheets, his mattress. The floor. Once, notably, on the shrine in his cabin, after which Will had panicked and sprinted to the pavilion to scrape an entire pot roast and pray not to get smited, leaving Nico to laugh himself to tears at the base of it.

Too late, he notices the total silence at the Apollo table, the wide eyes boring holes into his head, the loose, dropped jaws.

“What?” he says, shoulders curled defensively.

As soon as the word leaves his mouth, realization dawns on him. He chokes on a grape.

“You two didn’t tell us?” Austin demands. “How long has this —” he gestures vaguely at Nico and at the infirmary, which, he assumes, is meant to represent Will — “been going on?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he wheezes. With his rapidly asphyxiating brain, he attempts to summon his boyfriend, still conked out, via sheer force of will. GET THE HELL UP AND COME RUN DAMAGE CONTROL, he screams silently.

Predictably, this does nothing.

Kayla shrieks. “Oh my gods, look at his face! They’ve been doing this forever!”

Nico bangs his hands on the table, trying at once to convey his protest and also hi, hello, children of the god of medicine, I am choking to death, fix please. Neither signal gets picked up, inhabitants of the table erupting an a screeching series of questions so loud that other campers notice, understand, and approach, equally as screechy.

“Will and Nico are together?”

“Holy shit! Since when?”

“I thought they’d never get out of the pining stage!”

“Don’t they hate each other?”

“Bro, are you stupid? Do you not know what bad flirting is?”

“Hey, is di Angelo turning purple, or is that just me?”

Throwing himself into the nearest shadow, Nico disappears.

———

“Get up, get up, I fucked up, I fucked up!”

Will shoots straight upright with a gasp, force of his own body sending him careening right over the side of the bed. He goes down in a tangled heap of cursing and yelping and ow, fuck, shit-damns.

“What happened?” he demands as soon as he’s free from his fabric prison. He rushes (stumbles) over to wear Nico is still wheezing, hands braced on his knees, for dizziness now as much as to catch his breath. “Neeks, woah, slow down for a sec. Deep breaths with me.”

He tries to follow along to Will’s exaggerated breathing, steady, long inhales and exhales. A calloused hand touches the curve of his neck, warmth blooming under it, and suddenly his airways are cleared.

“Thanks,” he manages hoarsely, breathing back somewhat under control.

Will squeezes his hand. “No problem.”

There are several pillow creases criss-crossing on his cheeks, making him look soft and sleepy, although his eyes are alert, crinkled in poorly-concealed amusement. His hair is somehow more mussed than when Nico left him this morning.

“What happened?”

“So I. Um.” Nico clears his throat. “Your bother was roasting you for shedding like a dog. I, of course, had to join —”

Will rolls his eyes, mouth twitching. “Of course.”

“— and I mentioned super casually that I get your hair all over my shit, right? And, well — well.”

“Well?” Will prods, when Nico cuts himself off. Chancing a glance, Nico finds he doesn’t look angry, or nervous, or disappointed — and of course he wouldn’t. Not for something as silly as this.

He is gonna laugh, though. Nico hates when he’s righteously clowned.

“Well, I.” He lowers his voice to a mumble. “May have said something about all of your hair that ends up on my pillows.”

For a moment it’s silent. Nico keeps his eyes trained away, although he leans into Will’s touch, his hands in his face, the side of his neck, the warmth thrown off his sleep-addled body.

He’s almost startled by the giggle.

Almost.

“…Oh, you dumbass.”

He tries very hard to look annoyed as Will cracks up. He taps his foot, crosses his arms, and tries very, very hard to frown, but Will’s laugh has always been the most musical thing about him, and he loves to serenade. And Nico is very weak to song.

“Stop laughing at me,” he snaps, without heat.

Will’s cheeks puff up from the force of him trying, face going red around the edges.

“I’m trying, Neeks, I am —”

“Not very hard.”

“I am, I am.” Valiantly, he draws in a deep breath, only breaking into giggles twice before managing to hold a somewhat straight face. “Nico,” he says, suddenly very close and very warm, “I love you.” He presses a kiss to his forehead. “And I love sneaking around with you —” the bridge of his nose — “and making out in dark closets —” his cheeks, both, quickly, one after the other — “and behind the Big House —” the base of his jaw — “and in the —”

“I get it,” Nico interrupts, flushing. He can feel the curve of Will’s smile against his skin.

“My cabin, if it’s empty,” Will murmurs, kissing the underside of his jaw, his neck. “Yours.” Slight nip of his teeth. Nico gasps.

“Will,” he whispers. His knees start to shake. “Will, c’mon, we gotta —”

Will presses a kiss square to his Adam’s apple, lingering. “We’re in yours quite a lot. I’ve gotten used to it, honestly, Neeks, I —”

The door bangs open, making both of them yelp. The matching screeches to not help the general air of panic and sitcom level foolishness.

“Oh my gods, you really are porking!”

“Get out, Kayla!” they both yell together.

“Jesus,” Will curses, forehead resting on Nico’s shoulder.

Nico bites his lip. Will shifts, turning to meet his eye.

They last two whole seconds before losing it.

“Three years of sneaking around without so much as a soul finding out,” Nico huffs as Will snickers. “Three whole years.”

Will pecks him loudly and exaggeratedly on the cheek. “And endless more in the open.”

“You’re such a goddamn cheeseball.”

“And yet you’re in deep, deep love with me.”

“…I am.” He cradles his face, pressing a kiss, finally, to his lips. Will presses back, smiling. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#i’m sorry i love secret relationship so so much #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo #will solace #solangelo #nico di angelo/will solace #nico/will #will/nico #established relationship #secret relationship #fluff and humour #apollo kids #my writing #fic #longpost

[mockerycrow]

Can I request just some comfort Fluff with soap? Maybe him just being at home with the reader and finally being about to fully relax

— love your writing 🤍

MINE, OH MINE (Soap x GN!Reader)

soap masterlist — 808 words

a/n: I had actually gotten two of this request, so 🐤 anon, this is for you, too!!! i apologize for my slowness lol this is also short </3

[WARNINGS: None, domestic fluff!]

Johnny has always loved the mornings after he arrives home to you. Of course, he loves that first near rib breaking hug you give each other—he loves the slow and thankful unsteady kiss you share at the front door with his duffel bag at your feet. Johnny loves the way you run your fingers through his messy mohawk during the sweet kiss, the way you lean and melt into him so naturally.

He loves the way you tremble; like you can’t believe he’s with you and he isn’t looking at you through a facetime call. Johnny adores the way you basically refuse to leave his side the rest of the night, barely giving him enough space for him to use the restroom by himself. He doesn’t mind though, because he knows he’s the exact same way. You are clingy the first two days whilst he is clingy all the way up until he has to leave again; neither of you mind.

Johnny loves the way you wear his clothes while he’s away, the way he sees more of his own laundry than yours in the laundry basket by the washing machine down the hall in the laundry room. Johnny loves the way it’s clear when he steps into the bedroom to put his bag away, you hog his side of the bed. He appreciates your insistence on helping him take a bath, his pajamas already in your arms. You know how to massage the knots out of his shoulders and back, you know the exact pattern on how to stroke his hair and tickle his neck to make him incredibly still. Johnny loves the way you’re concerned about his eyes when washing your hair, cupping right about his forehead to prevent any possible droplets of soap to drip down into his tear ducts. Johnny loves that you care enough to squeeze his hair at his hairline to keep it from dripping down his face.

Johnny loves the way you allow him to rub your back once he’s out of the bath and properly dressed; you’re sitting on the bed with the Scot sitting behind you, his legs crossed as his big and rough hands press against the tense muscles of your back through your his shirt. He loves the way you sigh with your lips closed from being content, the way you instinctually lean back into his touch, the way his thumbs press into your shoulder muscles and rub them in circles to relieve the tension that has most certainly built up, deep in your bones and tissue. He loves the way you tilt your head when he peppers soft kisses to your shoulder, leading up to your neck.

What Johnny loves the most, though, is waking up next to you after these nights together, after returning from deployment and missions. He loves waking up with his nose buried into your shoulder with an arm wrapped around you, the other under his own head for comfort. Johnny loves waking up with his head buried in your chest, or maybe your head is buried in his. He loves waking up to see you still sleeping, your lips parted ever so slightly in your sleep, your face devoid of stress and anxiety. If you snore, the man very much treasures every noise coming from you; it’s a sign of life, and he would fall asleep to the sound of it every night if he could.

Johnny likes to run his fingers against your brow ridge and then down your temple to your jaw, his fingertips sliding against your pulse for a moment, just feel your heart go ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum. Sometimes on a rare occasion, you’ll wake before him; which is how he found out you watch him sleep. Of course Johnny isn’t upset when his eyes flutter open and the first thing they do is lock onto yours. He finds out you wait for him to wake up like he waits for you, admiring his face, his chin scar, his hair. You look at him like there’s nothing else in the world and that makes his chest so tight and gooey.

He likes it when you mumble “I can’t understand you” in the mornings, the grogginess thickening his accent. Johnny likes your little smile when his voice rumbles in the morning, the sound penetrating deep into your chest and staying there. Johnny likes it when you kiss him in the morning, despite the fact that his morning breath has always been worse than yours. He likes it when you cup the back of his head in these morning kisses—all he can think about is you, you, you. Johnny likes it when you insist on staying in bed for a bit longer, despite your alarm for work having already gone and past.

Yeah, Johnny loves coming home to you, alright.

#call of duty #call of duty mwii #cod mw2 #cod #mw2022 #modern warfare ii #mw2 2022 #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x gn!reader #john mactavish x gn!reader #john soap mactavish x gn!reader #soap mw2 #soap #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #soap cod #soap call of duty #cod soap #soap mctavish #mw2 fanfic #mw2 x reader #modern warfare 2 x reader #soap modern warfare #mwii #mwii soap #cod mwii

[k2ntoss]

i feel like I've been MIA for too long lmao but hooo boyyy i have so many thoughts now because of that prompt list omg 🫠 i NEED -Fucking someone so good that they struggle to kiss you back.- and “Spread your legs baby, that’s it…Wider.” with Jason immediately please Mara, the brain rot demands it 😭

-🦊

JUST LOOK AT THIS, MY FAVORITE ANON !!! (as if it wasn't clear before) have i told you already how i love the way your mind brings the brain rot to work??? well, i do. let's get at it, babe

fucking someone so good they struggle to kiss you back + "spread your legs baby, that's it... wider"

movie nights are for two things, actually watching your movie selection while cuddling with your partner or to completely ignore whatever was playing on the screen while your partner fucked the life out of you. you go guess what was jason's plan for tonight's movie plan.

you're actually trying to focus on the movie, your eyes fixed on the screen as you lay on jason's chest and he holds you softly, his chin resting on your shoulder as he leans in to leave a soft peck on your skin. it's innocent and sweet at first but then one of his hands slides under your shirt, caressing your skin and drawing abstract lines on your stomach that made your attention drift away when he pressed a kiss on your jaw.

"jay... are you even watching the mo–" you were speaking, trying to scold him but your words caught on your throat when his hand moved further up and cupped one of your breasts at the same time he licked your neck.

"i'm not watching the movie, baby" he whispers against your skin, his lips gracing your neck right before he kisses that spot behind your ear "i want to get touchy with my pretty girl."

"oh, so you want to get touchy?" you ask, there's now a hint of amusement and mischief on your voice as you turn your face to look at him and jason can't help but chuckle and nod, like a kid that's been caught red handed doing something he wasn't supposed to "and who said i wanted to let you, jaybird?" you ask but deep down you knew you would let jason get his way with you anytime he wanted to.

"you... you're not doing a thing to stop me from touching you like this" he says, his voice is low and his hands are now both on your chest, he squeezes your tits firmly before lifting your bra "it is because you know you're all mine to enjoy or because you want me to actually feel you up completely?"

the way he speaks and touches you manage to drag a soft moan out of your lips and it makes him feel powerful because he knows how to make you melt. that's what he wants, jason wants to be the one to always make you feel good, he wants the reason you smile and moan, the only one to know every corner of your body so he could give back all the good things you gave him.

jason really enjoys the way it's so easy for him to shut your mind off with the smallest touch when mixed with the right words, he loves whispering into your ear and kissing your neck just to see how needy you can get from it but it was just the effect jason's touch had on you and he couldn't deny you could do the same to him. so now when he gets your shirt lifted and squeezes your breast while kissing your neck he has to hold back a moan when you move and push him to be able and sit on his lap.

"sometimes you should try to pay attention to a movie, you know?" you ask teasingly, leaning in to kiss him again and jason misses no time to let his hands snake under your shirt again just to feel those goosebumps on your skin. it's unthinkable to try and stop to resume your initial plans because your boyfriend is now sucking a subtle trail of small marks on your neck while he starts pulling your shirt off and when he is done your bra stands no chance against him.

"the movie can wait, we can watch it after i make you scream and beg for more..." jason whispers into your ear and he smirks when you tug at the neck of his hoodie, he knows he won and he takes it off and that's when the last strand of control you had vanishes at the sight of his toned body, the faint scars scattered over his skin around that one on his chest that ran all the way down to his stomach it only made him way more appealing.

he really loves the effect he has on you, it makes him feel like he really deserves the way you look at him and how you touch him as if he was your most valuable treasure and he was, his touch equals yours; needy but still lingering enough to make sure you know how he values the fact that you are with him, his grip firm but loving as he holds your hips to make you grind against him once he takes off those comfy sweatpants you wore to bed and that he loved because of how the hugged your figure.

clothes do not last on your bodies and it isn't so much until your body is completely pressed against his while he makes you put your hips up, jason lets his hand wander between your thighs until he has two fingers sneaking over your folds, flicking your clit as he smiles smugly at you.

"do you still want to watch the movie, ma?" he asks, voice now deeper while his finger traces a trail between your folds, teasing your aching pussy before he slips his digits into your entrance. jason looks at you, the hunger in his eyes only adds to your arousal as you grind your hips against his palm, the calloused skin brushing against your swollen clit.

you grunt something that sounds like a shut up and a please mixed up in a hushed moan, as your boyfriend keeps pumping his fingers in and out of you while he kisses and bites your neck, the smirk on his lips doesn't leaves when you struggle to beg him from how much he teases because his free arm is around your back and his hand is now groping your breast.

"already so desperate? i just started, sweetie" he coos you mockingly as he slowly lays you down under him, lips trailing down your neck until he is now kissing and biting on your nipple "just look at the pretty mess you are, all wet around my fingers and you could just cum like this... should i let you get off like this?"

"god, jason– don't do that, i need you" you moan breathlessly and for some reason his words only get you more needy, making jason feel a huge ego boost as he gives you that pretty shit eating grin before he switches to your other breast, sucking and teasing you more as his fingers leave your pussy, entrance now clenching around nothing.

there's a feeling of relief once you can see jason moving to be between your legs as he trails his kisses to your tummy, lovingly and devoted and his hands squeeze your legs softly to try and help your body to calm a little to no overstimulate you just yet.

"spread your legs baby," he says softly, his lips brushing against your skin and the sweetness on his touch and words makes you comply without thinking twice, your legs spreading almost on its own for him "that's it... wider" he says now smugly, seeing the way you open up just at his presence makes him feel so powerful.

he holds onto the back of your knees, pushing your legs until he makes them rest over his shoulder. his hand guides his hard dick until his tip is lined up with your pussy and he pushes in, slowly as a low growl escapes his throat, holding onto your hips to give a first stroke.

"so fucking thight and i had already stretched your pretty cunt before" he says, his body still until you nod for him to start moving and he doesn't hesitates to start with a quick pace "that's such a pretty toy i got myself, didn't i? i just have to touch you and you'll let me have my way with you..."

he makes it sound so good you can't help but moan, one of your hands reaching for his neck to pull him from his nape; fingers tangling on his hair as you bring his face close to yours and jason only makes his thrusts faster, hiting all the right spots as he holds you bent like this.

"jay– jay please" you whine as you try to really bring his lips to yours, it amuses him and you hear it on his rumbling chuckle, his hands gripping your hips in a way you knew your skin would be painted in finger-print-bruises by tomorrow but you just loved that, silky skin painted with his hickeys and bite marks, a sing of that ownership he had over you.

"use your words, princess," he whispers into your ear, the sound of the dominance on his voice making you moan loudly when his hands also squeeze your ass playfully "you're a big girl, you can use that pretty mouth of yours can't you?"

"please, kiss me jay" you beg, voice shaky as he pounds into you and the way jason is closer now on top of your body, his shoulders still holding your legs up just making the angle perfect for his tip to kiss your cervix.

jason does as you ask, leaning in a pressing a bruissing kiss on your lips and he seems pretty resolved to devour your mouth like that but instead he's met with you really struggling to kiss him back and he is lost in this discovering. it encourages him to move your body as if you were a pretty doll for him to use, placing your legs against your chest but this time only over one of his shoulders.

"feels like too much, pretty doll?" he asks, whispering into your ear almost in a growl and he changes his pace, slowing down to give you deep and slow strokes but still slamming his hips against yours.

"too good, jay... feels just so good" your voice slurred as you cry for him to move a bit faster but jason has just found out how to play with you a little more.

"yeah? you sound way too pretty for me to change the pace, crying like a desperate slut" the use of names sends a shiver down your spine, jason knows what buttons to push in order to get your pleasure to skyrocket and he is really proud of it as he keeps pumping into you, hissing in pleasure when he feels your walls clenching around him "god this feels so fucking good, i could cum into you so deep baby, you'll feel me right here"

one of his hands wanders from your hips to your belly and the thought of him reaching so deep inside of your body is enough to make your body tense, there's something new to all of this because you've felt way more sensitive than before and jason is feeling way too eager to find out how much he can do with that.

"jason please, fill me up like this" you say in between shaky moans, legs trembling already and the way you look at him through those teary cute doe eyes makes him throb into you.

"want me to breed you, baby? i want to see you dripping full of me" he says, his pace fastening again but it grows sloppier as his hand moves from your belly to one of your tits, squeezing it and toying with your nipple "you look so pretty like this, angel, so ready for me to use your body over and over again"

it's amazing the way jason manages to shut your brain off, making your words catch on your throat and turning you into a whimpering mess. rocking your hips to meet his movements until your orgasm hits you, pussy squeezing him like a vice, almost making it impossible for jason to keep thrusting inside of you.

the pleasure of your body washes over him, bringing his own climax to his as he releases into your throbbing pussy as he slows down, letting out a low stream of curses before he comes to a halt still holding your legs against his chest.

"i don't think we'll be watching that movie now, ma..."

#⭒ 📬 ⭒ #🦊 anon #jason todd smut #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd songfic #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd blurb #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood smut #red hood fanfiction #red hood x fem!reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #red hood blurb #red hood fluff #jason todd #red hood #dc comics #dc comics reader insert #dc comics imagine #reader insert

[redr0sewrites]

Aftercare Hcs with Lucifer <3

i wanted to write sum for him to start off my entrance into the hazbin fic writers fandom ajdjdjdj-

🥀 Cw: none, mentions of previous sex, fluff, lucifer being whipped and sleepy

lucifer is most definitely WHIPPED for you, no matter how long the two of you have been together he is the type to fall HARD

this transfers into aftercare, but also affection with him in general

he is especially clingy after sex, he wants all of your praise and attention~ who are u to refuse?

i feel like lucifer is the type to definitely prioritize cuddles and physical contact over cleaning up, he doesn't care how messy the bed is as long as he gets to be held by u!!

you often have to carry him to the bath while hes half asleep, he'll pout and whine about how hes "perfectly fine"

"do we haaavee to get up?"

"darling, do you want to sleep in your own cum?"

"...fine"

lucifer would absolutely feel bad about leaving the entire mess for u to clean up and will always offer to assist u

mind u, he can barely stand upright from exhaustion and hes covered in bites and bruises and soaked in sweat and... fluids

join him in the bath after cleaning up, you two have a giant bath that can fit the both of you (perks of being rich) that often leads to another softer round of sex or just sweet cuddles and massages

SPEAKING OF MASSAGES!!!!! HE WILL TOTALLY GIVE U MASSAGES WHEN YOU JOIN HIM, ALONG WITH WASHING YOUR BACK AND HAIR ETC

wash his wings, he will melt

praise him, tell him how good he was for you and how good he made you feel, it may not seem huge on your end but bc of how self conscious he is it definitely boosts his ego

once you both actually get to bed, his favorite cuddling position is either spooning, or just laying beside you with his arms (and wing) draped over you as your both pressed as close to eachother as possible. he loves when your faces are super close together too, so he can press soft kisses to your lips or boop your noses together

speaking of spooning, he will be little or big spoon! i hc him as a switch, so the same way he'll top or bottom in bed, lucifer is def down for being held and cuddled or holding you!!

lucifer is the type to enjoy soft chatter as you two drift to sleep, he loves getting to ramble to you about his latest rubber duck or his day or anything he wants, while you enjoy listening to him and admiring him while he slowly drifts off

he asks the weirdest questions after sex, especially when it was very intimate. hes def gonna ask u if u would still love him as a worm and then turn into a worm for good measure

"duckie, if you were an ant monarch, and you got to name your own ant hill, what would you name it?"

"...."

all the while, lucifer is just smiling this big goofy grin, watching you with lidded eyes and soaking in the warmth of getting to be with you

he just loves the fact that hes yours, that the two of you get to share these intimate moments together and that you both care for eachother so much

he falls asleep mid sentence too, it's actually really cute

"and then, *yawn*, i said.... like.... mhm... "

"goodnight luci~"

AUGHWHEHEEEHEHHEHEHEHEUEHEHEHEGEHESUAHAIEJEGEJEH

the soul ascending love i have for him and hazbin hotel is not normal i swear. expect more soon and please, for the love of all things good and holy, send in reqs im begging 👹

also sorry this is so shit i was gonna make this a full scenario but decided it was more fun as hcs bUUUUT i can do a scenario if yall want- i live to please

#lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer imagine #lucifer x reader #lucifer x mc #lucifer x you #lucifer morningstar #lucifer headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin spoilers #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer magne x reader #lucifer #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer morningstar hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar headcanon #wow this is a lot of tags

[de4dlyniightshade]

I’d really just like to request your most feral Spencer Reid headcanons. SFW, NSFW, raunchy, tame - whatever. Just your like “I will fight anyone who disagrees, they are fact” type headcanons.

(Because I reread all your headcanons and love every single one)

I BEEN WAITING ON SOMEONE ASKING THIS! i've also just been meaning to make a hc post.

i was gonna split them into nsfw and sfw but they just ended up all mixed together 0-0

submissive and breedable spencer truther til i fucking die i'll get him pregnant don't play with me.

loves messy kisses like spit running down his chin, tongues down each others throat, desperately gripping at each other type of kisses.

maybe just me projecting and taking what mgg said as gospel truth but i fully believe that spencer loves a curvy woman, not even just for sexual reasons he also loves to rest his head on a nice big pair of boobs or thighs.

speaking of, boob guy! shamefully, but still a boob guy! adores groping your boobs whenever he can and would have your boob in his mouth 24/7 if he could, has literally fallen asleep with his head under your shirt and your nipple in his mouth.

munch! like the biggest munch ever, loves nothing more than coming home from a long day and burying his face between your thighs or having you ride his face.

knows full well that toys are his teammate and not his competitors and has no insecurities about you using toys on yourself or owning any.

does not care how well groomed you are, if you asked him what he preferred he'd be like??? it's literally none of my business???

needs lots of reassurance during sex, he just likes to know that he's doing good and making you feel good throughout the whole thing.

doesn't like talking about his sex life, especially with derek, no matter how hard he pressed and pries spencer wont let anything but the bare minimum out.

i imagine he's more drawn to a commanding woman, someone who will take the lead and teach him because of his inexperience and finds that he actually loves being dominated and hardly has any desire to dominate you.

really vocal! even though i've already said it like twice he just is, i can feel it in my bones, he's just such a whiny little baby and can't help but moan loudly any time you're touching him.

is completely against the idea of road head until you do it while you're on a long drive and it both changes his life and almost ends it bcs he swerved into the other lane which was luckily empty.

still gets shy when you kiss him in front even the team even years down the line.

learns to cook so he can make you breakfast whenever you're staying at his apartment.

on the same lines, lovesss morning sex, just that feeling of not wanting to get out your warm bed into the cold air, savouring the warmth in the best way possible.

had no idea what queefing was real until it happened and he was like genuinely so fascinated rather than disgusted.

i feel like spencer would own a bird for sure, not just bcs of gideon but he did help him realise how cool birds are which made him get one, probably a cockatiel or parrotlet with some silly name like dave.

all bark, no bite. likes to act a big game in front of others but the second you're alone he's begging and calling you mommy.

loves nothing more than waking up before you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before carefully and quietly getting out of bed to make you breakfast with the intention of bringing it to you but when you wake up before him and sneak up behind him to wrap your arms around his waist he can't help but melt.

very open to experimenting further down the line, anything you want to try he'll try at least once, except for blindfolds on himself, would be completely open to blindfolding you though.

loves public touching, not outright sex but he'd love when you subtly brush your hand over his crotch or take a handful of his ass in a public place.

teaches you how to knit and cries when you actually make him something like a sweater or even just a hat bcs he realises that's why you wanted to learn in the first place.

can't ride a bike.(this is definitely me projecting bcs i can't but i just feel like he can't okay)

lana enjoyer!!! especially if you are, he just wants to understand all the things you love and if you love lana so does he, he'd love to hear you ramble about your favourite songs and would take note of them and listen to them asap and tell you he loves them even if he didn't like some that much bcs he loves how happy it makes you.

wouldn't want to introduce you to his mother too soon but if you ended up meeting her by chance he'd be sweating buckets in case you didn't get along but you two just bond over your adoration for him and he's just so happy about it.

probably took a while to warm up to physical touch in the beginning bcs of his germophobia but when he finally does he regrets not doing it sooner.

washes his hands every single time before touching you sexually, not even for his benefit, he just wants to be as safe as possible with you.

loves elvis and almost proposes on the spot when you offer to dance with him to can't help falling in love, secretly sheds a few tears while you waltz around his apartment in your pyjamas.

okay i've definitely left stuff out that i've thought of but this is long asf so i'll leave it there😭

#💌 headcanon segment!!!∩^ω^∩ #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fandom #mgg #dr spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fic

[softlyspector]

Care

Summary: Joel gets sick and has a hard time letting himself be taken care of.

This can be read on it's own but it is in the same universe as Grays in which, Joel likes to be read to and held and have his hair stroked.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Word count: ~3.2k

Warnings: sick fic, Joel being bad at being looked after, descriptions of illness, Joel’s bad attitude, reader is implied to be from the south/Appalachia (and has an accent), food as a love language, food mentions and eating, minor internal angst

A/N: I’m out here living in the comforting Joel Miller universe, how are you guys? Seriously, though, thank you all for always being so patient with me while I take a million years to write something new. I love you and I hope you like this. I actually have two more things partially written in this 'verse so let me know if that's something you'd like to see too. I don't want this fic to wear its welcome out, especially since the reader is so specific 💕

A half melted trail of snow and ice winds it’s way from the front door to the living room. The stamp of familiar boot treads pressed into each watery puddle, the hills and valleys of the dirty slush left behind. 

“Joel?” You call, unwinding your ice flecked scarf from around your neck before you toss your keys down on the little side table and let your backpack fall to the floor. 

For a moment, the only answer you receive is the creak of the house in the brutal wind, panes of window glass rattling in their frames. You hang your scarf on one of the hooks by the door, and brush melting ice away from your soaked winter coat. 

You open your mouth to call out again, when he answers you, voice graveled and strained. “In here, darlin’.” 

The knot of worry that has been tangled in your chest all day eases just a little. 

Joel’s been fighting off some kind of sickness for the better part of a week, reticent to admitting that he was feeling bad and even more adverse to letting anyone help him through—refusing to rest or let his shifts slide to someone else. 

That morning he’d woken in a particularly bad state but insisted on going on patrol anyway, and in a veritable snowstorm that has yet to let up. 

The storm had rolled in early that morning and the sheets of snow that had been falling all day have, even now, yet to taper off. 

The visibility had been so poor, you’d half expected Joel to walk back through the door minutes after he said goodbye, without a kiss as was usual because he knows he’s sick even if he won’t admit it. 

You hang up your coat and kick off your boots, carefully tiptoeing around the melted ice scattered all over the entryway. 

That, more than anything else, tells you how bad he’s feeling. 

Joel is good about taking his shoes off and hanging his coat up in the hall closet and keeping the ice and mud tracked into the house to a minimum. He’s particular and precise; mostly neat about things, aside from plates occasionally left out on the table, clothes left on the floor overnight, bed unmade for days.

When you round your way into the living room, you find him splayed out on the couch, booted feet on the floor to preserve the furniture at least, eyes closed, and still covered in a thin layer of mostly melted snow. His hair is damp from the elements, skin pale and flushed an uncomfortable shade of pink, an arm slung over his eyes as he breathes heavily. 

“Jesus, Joel,” you mutter and cross the room to take a seat at his hip. “You look like death warmed over, sweetheart.” 

He gives a weak chuckle and then swallows painfully, a cough catching wetly in his chest. “Mm.” He moves his arm and peels his eyes open, blinking lethargically at you. The circles beneath his eyes are a grayish purple, the skin puffy and dry with exhaustion. You make a sympathetic noise. “Go on,” he says, voice grating. “You can say I told ya so.” 

“Now why would I go and do somethin’ like that when I can do somethin’ much worse?” You fidget with his coat sleeve and then rake your fingers through his hair, the strands soft and gray and damp at the ends from the snow and the fever he clearly has. “You’re just gonna have to let me take care of ya.” 

He grunts and starts to sit up. “No,” he says, finality in his voice. “I’ll just get you sick—”

“Joel, if I was gonna get sick I’d be sick already, you’ve been fightin’ this thing for a week,” you push a hand against his shoulder to keep him in place. “And I don’t think you heard me right. I ain’t exactly askin’ here.”  

He shakes his head. “‘M fine. Been through worse.”

“I know. We all been through worse. I’m still not askin’.” You roll your eyes, unimpressed with him. “Now quit fussin’.”

“I don’t fuss,” he grumbles. 

“You sure don’t,” you coo, and reach for the zipper on his coat. “Sleepin’ on the couch in wet clothes ain’t gonna help anything, I can assure you a’ that.”

And he doesn’t fuss for once, maybe just slightly in defiance of your accusation, as you help him out of his coat and scarf and collect his gloves from the floor. 

His breathing is labored when he sinks back into the couch again, eyes closed, lips parted because he clearly can’t breathe through his nose anymore. 

“You need rest at the very least, Joel,” you murmur. “Please at least do that for me. I worry. I’ve been worried.” 

He blinks at you again, eyes slowly coming open, and you have to wonder at how close to sleep he’d been again so quickly. 

Maybe the key to getting him to ease into someone else taking care of him, is making it sound like it’s something to do with you, because he only nods. 

Warm hazel irises disappear again, eyes flickering closed. 

You touch his forehead and then turn to unlace his boots. “Sorry about the mess,” he says. 

You work one boot off and then the other, massaging his ankle and then the back of his calf, the hinge of his knee. The hem of his jeans are wet. “A little water never hurt much,” you dismiss, hooking your fingers into the backs of his boots, the burden of his coat, scarf, and worn leather gloves on your other arm, and stand.

He catches at your wrist before you can turn away, thumb rubbing slowly over the inside of your wrist. “You really don’t gotta do anything for me.” 

“I know it, Joel. I want to.”

“Mm.” 

“Why don’t you make yourself useful and go on upstairs? You need help?” 

He rolls his eyes and sits up slowly. “I ain’t that bad off.”

You’d like to disagree with him, since collapsing in a heap on the couch with his coat and shoes still on was a direct contradiction to that sentiment. It’s just like Joel to ignore the clear signals his body was sending him, and keep going until he couldn’t anymore, refusing help along the way. 

You’re probably lucky he didn’t get lost in the damn storm; or pass out, fall off his horse, and break his neck. 

“All right,” you pat his knee gently. “Get goin’ then. Be up in a minute.”

He groans when he stands and moves towards the steps, mindful of the puddles still dotting the path from the door to the living room. 

The stairs creak as he goes up and you listen for all the squeaks you know the places in the floor will make as he moves toward the bedroom, hanging his coat and lying out the scarf and gloves to dry, boots left in their usual place by the door. 

When you find him in the bedroom, he’s still in his clothes, breathing deep and even, on top of the comforter. 

He startles awake when you push your knee against his thigh, holding yourself above him on caged arms. “When’d you eat last?” 

“This mornin’.”

“You need to eat. If I run you a bath, will you be okay while I cook somethin’?”

He circles an arm around your back and pulls you down onto his chest. “Just lay here a minute.” 

“All right,” you murmur and pull to the side, so you can cradle his head in your hands, press your lips to his forehead and sweep back his hair, smoothing the damp ends behind his ears. “If you just listened to me you wouldn’t be this bad off.” 

“I know it.” 

He smells like ice and snow, leather and pine; skin and sweat. You’re hard pressed not to just bury yourself in him, let both of you fall asleep like that. 

Joel’s breath is hot, overly warm where it presses against your skin in shallow swell, breathing raspy and pained. 

It makes you ache with guilt. You should have put your foot down about him resting days ago. 

His face is slack when you pull back to look him over, asleep again, though his arm stays tight around you, thick muscle bound across your back in a comforting band, the flat of his palm cupped against your side. 

You shift until you can press your cheek to his shoulder and rub one hand over his chest, listening to the strained rattle of his breath in his lungs. Worry picks at your heart, the heat of his skin so potent you feel hot, though he keeps shivering as he sleeps. 

Still, you lie there with him for a long time, curled next to his sleeping body watching the snow whip past the window, evening encroaching and then blanketing the world in black, crystalized snowflakes still snaking through the air. His heart beats as steady and strong as it ever has, familiar and comforting against your ear. 

Eventually, you lift your head. “Joel,” you say softly, hand on his cheek. He jerks awake, looks up at you, eyes hazy and disoriented. “Bath? Then you can sleep a while longer and I’ll get ya somethin’ to eat.” 

Your mind is running through every home remedy you know, anything to ease the discomfort. 

There’s little to do but wait out the sickness, in this world. How easy you used to have it. Some part of you still feels the urge to get up and grab your car keys, venture out to your local pharmacy for cold medicine, a bottle of sprite, and vapor rub. 

You’ll have to settle for forcing water and tea made from local herbs on him, homemade chicken noodle soup with half the ingredients substituted for something else at the start of Wyoming’s long winter, warm bath water and your own hand rubbing his chest.

“All right,” he agrees. 

He follows you to the bathroom and waits patiently while you fuss over the temperature of the water, and then over him, fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt and pushing it off his shoulders. 

It’s hard not to look at him, the shape of strong shoulders barred naked to you, the twist of tendon that leads into his collarbone from his throat, the muscle in the back of his neck.

But there are the circles under his eyes, too, the exhaustion in his gaze. You don’t look away from him, and he doesn’t shy away from you as you undress him, something unspoken between you as he lets you manhandle him, fingers brushing his chest and belly and the curve of muscle in his bicep. 

Something burns in your chest, reaches desperate fingers out to him, though you can’t say what. 

“The steam will help,” you say when he’s in the tub, groaning as he sinks into the water, gritting his teeth against the temperature.  

“That’s an old wives tale,” he grumbles. 

“It is not and all you gotta do is sit there either way,” you tug on a lock of his hair. “Holler if you need somethin’, and try not to fall asleep and drown.” 

He huffs out a laugh that turns into a tired, phlegmy cough. “Yes ma’am. I’ll do my best.” 

“Y’always do,” you say and close the door behind you.   

Joel wakes with the memory of your lips pressed to his forehead fresh in his mind, and the promise of soup after a nap. He feels a little better with the sleep, though every joint in his body joins together to form a dull ache that extends from the top of his head to his toes. A heavy pressure rests behind his eyes, though his chest feels a little clearer if still sticky with sickness. 

Christ, the way he aches. 

This cold or flu or whatever is worse than he remembers it being. He could have shaken this, kept going and gotten over it, a couple years ago. 

Feeling his age maybe, becoming that old man he sees in the mirror. 

He’s shivering again and wishes he was back in that too hot bath water, sweating out a fever. 

You’d curled up with a blanket on the floor next to the tub and read from the book you normally only read to him aloud in the evenings, making sure he drank that cup of horrible tasting tea you’d bought him, watching him from the corner of your eye and fidgeting with your sweater sleeves until a thread came loose. 

He’d have to do better the next time. 

You might not ever admit it to him or yourself, but he’s given you cause to fret the last week or so, and really worry the last couple hours. It grates, but if it keeps you from worrying a hole through your favorite sweater, he’d just have to find some way to swallow the ache of embarrassment and trip of guilt that came with someone looking out for him. 

This winter he’s come to realize that taking care of people is important to you too. You do it in a different way than he does. Feeding folks mostly but it’s also—wrapping a scarf around his neck, mending Ellie’s jacket with needle and thread, making sure he and Ellie have eaten and rested, cooking things from your memories of home for him and his and no one else, sharing that very secret part of home and of yourself—so he’d better learn how to get on with it or risk running you off.

Even if it makes him feel useless and guilty, it’s important to you.

He gets to his feet and makes the trip downstairs where he can hear you singing lowly, the sound of some long forgotten song—sounds of mountains and coal mines and cooking and a particular kind of life that you’d never get to have.  

The kitchen is smeared with heat, fog stained and dripping; windows heavy with the dark of nighttime, wind and snow still howling past in a gray-white blur. He leans against the doorway, arms over his chest, and just listens for a minute, the pounding in his chest and head dying down. 

“Hey,” you stop singing as soon as you sense him behind you, smiling at him over your shoulder instead. “Sit down, baby.” 

And since he’s trying to be better about this and he likes it when you call him that, he does as you say and sits at the table. You push a bowl of hot soup in front of him and hand him a spoon. He can only faintly smell the salt of the chicken broth. 

You lean against him and wait for him to try it like you always do when you make him something good, nose pressed to his hair. “Go on,” you encourage. “You need somethin’ in you.” 

He takes the spoon you offer him, reaching back with the other hand to cover your fingers on his shoulder, squeezing tight as he takes a taste, hoping you hear what he always wants to tell you. 

“Y’know I’d tell you it’s good, but I can’t really taste anythin’, darlin’.” 

A kiss to his temple, hand on the back of his neck, brushing through hair that’s more silver than brown lately. It feels better than he’ll ever admit, like sunshine, something essential he’ll never know how to live without again.

You laugh, “Well, that’s real good to hear because I want you to drink somethin’ gross.” 

He pauses. “What?”

“Keep eatin’.” Your hand feathers affectionately through his hair again, then presses to the back of his neck and forehead. “Fever went down, I think.” 

“You’re gonna get yourself sick,” he says and tips his head gently away from your hand. 

You sit down and pull your chair close to his anyway. “Little late for that, I reckon,” you say and push a cup in front of him. “Drink up, cranky,” you direct, and then lay your head on his shoulder, heavy and warm and soft.

“Gonna tell me what it is?” 

“Poison. Puttin’ you outta your misery.” He can feel the movement of your jaw in his chest, like you’re one and not two. 

“Cute.” 

You hum and scrub your cheek against his shoulder. “My mom always gave it to me when I got sick. Honey and lemon.” 

He pauses. 

For all your cooking from your childhood, you never talk about home and he’s never pried about it. 

“Lemon, huh?” He asks instead. “Well, color me impressed.”

“Saved some of the juice from this summer,” you explain with just a touch of pride. “Anyway, she’d get that in me, and some kind of pop, and then, soup and crackers. I tried makin’ it how I remember but we ain’t got any of the right stuff,” you chatter and then abruptly stop, voice thick. 

“Anyway,” you clear your throat, though he wouldn’t complain if you went on. He’d like to know all that stuff about you, what your mother made when you were sick and what you were like as a kid and what exactly you think of when you think about home. “It’s supposed to open up your sinuses. Then maybe you’ll be able to taste the soup.” 

He drinks it and it is gross, but he swears he can taste the soup better after. You smile, just a little triumphantly. He presses his knee to yours beneath the table. “My mama always did the same,” he offers after a minute. “Chicken noodle soup, no matter how hot it was outside and it’s always hot in Texas.” 

You meet his eyes, gaze fond and full of something he can’t quite decipher. “Yeah?” 

“Mm, and I guess I did the same with Sarah, too. From a damn can though, and burned it somehow half the time.”

When the dishes are stacked in the sink and the lights are flicked off, the whole house dark, you urge him back upstairs and into bed. 

Rest, you say. He needs to rest. 

He’s never been good at that, but he’ll try for you. 

There’s a shiver climbing up the back of his spine again, the crush of a cough in his throat, but you burrow close like there’s nothing to worry about, and that eases something inside him. 

There are worse sicknesses to be worried about. And if he gets you sick, he’ll just take care of you through it. He’d even try to make you soup. 

You settle against him, and the pressure and warmth of your body against his chases away some of the ache lodged around his ribs. 

Joel kisses your forehead when your breathing finally slows and peters out into something even and deep, hand fisted in his shirt. 

He doesn’t sleep any, watches the night and the snow fall down and wishes nyquil were something that still existed. Still, twisted between your fingers ain’t a bad second. 

💕 Thank you for reading! I would love to hear any thoughts you might have! 💕

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction