#I thought it would be silly so here were are

[coffee-and-geto]

DRIVE ME INSANE

“You drive me insane!” you snap, jabbing your finger into his chest. “Yeah, I’d say the feeling’s mutual, sweetheart,” he retorts, raising an eyebrow, his gaze dropping momentarily to the finger poking his chest as though he’s admiring your nerve.

pairing: CEO! satoru gojo! x f!reader

summary: cheating on your husband who couldn’t care less about you, satoru gojo — your fervent lover — has a nasty habit of showing up unannounced, threatening to ruin all the lies you’ve built for your husband so far by leaving all too visible marks after a hot session. however, after a very first argument with him, you’re determined to throw all your anger at him. but neither of you can ignore the tension between the two of you, especially when satoru is ready to take full responsibility.

warnings: +18 MDNI, smut, nsfw, cheating (the husband does it first but according to the timelaps it’s explained all along in this silly fic :p), CEO! gojo, lover! gojo, kinda slight toxic! gojo but he’s just desperately in love, angst, hurt/comfort, angry sex (i tried at least), sex (p in v), rough sex, possessive! gojo, overstimulation, unprotected sex, fingering (f! receiving), oral (f! receiving), he’s rich asf, fanart by @/kiyoro2 on X.

wc: 8,193

a/n: second warning before reading this fic if you didn’t read the warnings: you need to know that the husband in this story cheats on the reader BEFORE her. he’s cold, not loving her anymore and cheating on her BEFORE the actual timelaps but you’ll know it only while reading through, got it?

i don’t like writing about cheaters because they’re horrible but this is just a “revenge” not really said out oud (you have to guess). this is just a warning so some of you won’t catch me with hate/discourse or anything around it because i would have written an “unfair cheater” lol. enjoy reading, tho!

“Hey, darling.”

The sweet melody of Satoru’s voice rings to your ears, sending a crude shiver that runs down your entire spine. Among all of the several times you were alone, with your husband gone to work like a hooked on it, the white-hair man always shows up at your door when you do not expect it.

So, of course, you’re always on the lookout, nervously stealing glances here and there at the door, through the window to check the parking lot of your apartment block, or even your phone if the miracle of him sending you a message occurs. Despite the thousands of times you’ve warned Satoru, the latter doesn’t seem to listen to you.

Your lover goes into your apartment, a classy decoration without any warmth of household — just a simple apartment.

From the cooling fireplace, to the pristine couch and the American kitchen where you are doing the dishes, Satoru always comes to the ‘warmth’ he was craving at your place.

You.

As simple as that.

He’d ignore your groans when his arms find your waist to hug you from behind. And the only sensation of the flat of his torso pressing to your back quiets down every thought, every breath you’d take, every worry and word that would escape the barrier of your lips.

It was just him. Satoru Gojo.

Not your husband. But your lover.

Maybe a word that had a deeper meaning behind any kind of link.

And what hurt the most was the fact that you would crave calling any man that was yours ‘my husband’ in any situation to bring that pride up your chest.

Yet, the last time you’ve pronounced those exact words, was the day you met Satoru.

You were doing the queue for a coffee shop near his headquarters, but how would you know that detail, hm? It was fate, he thought when he approached the queue and ended up behind you as your eyes were glued to the menu card in order that you could choose your drink.

And yet again, he couldn’t help but feel intrigued by you. Your silhouette standing still, vaulted shoulders, a small frown on your lips portraying your hesitation and two beautiful and mesmerizing eyes...

Oh, Lord, that was the only detail from you that this poor man will never forget and will haunt him every single next second.

And, of course, Satoru Gojo isn’t that kind of man who lets fate dictate his life.

He was the only one distracting it. Wanted or not. Period.

“An Americano coffee?” he spoke with his lowest voice to not scare you. He stepped closer to you, his form hovering you as his face lowered to the height of your shoulder. “Thought pretty girls like you always chose espresso.”

Your head jerked up and your eyes met him for the first time.

“W-What…?”

The most unfair, charming smile tugged at Satoru's lips’ corners. “Why don’t you take an espresso? Is it because of the price, darling?” he cooed.

Unsettled by his more-than-strange intrusion, you replied without thinking twice, “Since when, espresso is better than americano?”

And, oh, dear, dear Lord, why were you testing him like this with such an angelic mortal like him? Couldn’t you let him live his life like it was meant to be? Why does this futile and innocent frown have such a ravishing effect on him? Tearing his heart apart, grabbing and stealing his breath to run away with it so he won’t be able to find any air but yours to use to survive in this old world?

“I don’t know. It’s more boring. Not elegant, and not fitting the vibe you give off, darling.” His blue eyes fell down on the ring around your finger, and his mind unconsciously prayed that you weren’t taken.

“It’s my husband’s favorite coffee,” you just responded like an irreversible sentence.

But Satoru didn’t let the situation get him down.

“Oh, so my pretty lady is taken? What a shame.” A little smirk spread his lips, and widened even more when he noticed how low was your affirmation. “I suppose he has bad taste in everything… but for women.”

A furious blush flustered your cheeks. “How dare you—”

“Yes, I dare, darling,” he almost hummed. “You really need someone to show you what is good coffee. Nothing but starting with that. What do you think?” he offers.

The queue moved on, and the chic café provided all the atmosphere of having a nice cup and a nice drink just to chat with anyone on a sidewalk seating area.

But, no, you were newly married. Your husband would be devastated that you’d let yourself be seduced by a complete stranger.

Although not so simple, considering how beautiful he was, with his perfect good looks, no one seemed to see anyone but him. And he couldn’t see anyone but you.

“So what, darling?” he insisted with a gentle tone. “Let me take your order and show you what coffee is.”

He pauses.

“If you may.”

The thought of letting him buy you a cup of coffee had obviously heightened your sense of unease and betrayal. But the memory of your husband leaving early in the morning without hello in your bed, his eternally neutral and unpleasant tone, his female co-workers leeching off him and all the effort you put into making your house feel like home haunts your mind.

With a resigned nod from you, Satoru almost jumped for joy and did a happy dance in front of the whole café.

How long had it been since he’d wanted to act like a child?

Satoru requested a small bottle-green round table on the sidewalk seating area, whose sunshade above unfurled like a fan protecting you from the bright sun of the day.

“By the way, I’m Satoru Gojo,” he introduced himself. He settled into the chair opposite you as the waiter left to take your orders.

You quickly introduced yourself. But the young albino didn’t fail to notice how lovely, humble and charming you were.

The perfect woman for him.

“I’m a CEO,” he added, maybe to impress you.

Surprise streaks your features. “Oh.”

He had expected more of a reaction from you, but you ended up disappointing him.

So he tried to restart the conversation to break the ice that had formed between you and him. He wasn’t one to usually go after people who were already taken. Yet, his instincts told him to stay with you. As if the north and south poles couldn’t help but attract each other, Satoru was slowly but surely drawn to you.

The orders were placed delicately on the table, and your lovely espresso cup, so exquisitely prepared, almost broke your heart at the thought of ruining its beauty by drinking it.

“This café serves the best coffee in town, you know. I come here often enough to say that with confidence, and also to notice that you didn’t know it,” he said, taking a sip from his own cup before propping his elbow on the glass table to rest his chin against his hand. “Admit it, you walked in here by chance.”

You almost choked on your sip of espresso, startled by his perceptiveness.

“It’s written all over your face, darling,” he said with a grin.

Still reserved, a hint of embarrassment flushed your cheeks with a soft blush that Satoru could have died to kiss.

“So?” he changed the subject. “How’s the espresso?”

“Very good,” you mumbled, lifting your gaze to meet his. Then you hesitated to continue with your real thoughts. Would he get bored listening to you like your husband usually did? Would he cut you off to end what he might see as pointless chatter?

“Just very good?” His eternally sincere and attentive smile lingered on his lips. He was definitely ready to hear every word you had to say.

You took a small breath. “Actually, the espresso has a sweet vanilla aroma that gives it a smooth taste on the palate, lingering just enough to make you want more. The foam is also very pleasant because it’s neither thin nor too frothy. The texture is creamy and at the perfect temperature to avoid burning your tongue.” You let out the last breath that the whole monologue had cost you.

“In short, it’s perfect,” you added softly.

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” Satoru murmured, his eyes locked on yours as if they would never let go, haunting forever the memory of the moment you two met.

“Glad you like it, by the way.”

For a first meeting, it could have seemed trivial. When it was time for you to leave, Satoru found the courage to ask for your phone number. To your own surprise, you accepted without hesitation. His company was pleasant, after all. He listened to you without ever interrupting, and seemed genuinely interested in you. And as a bonus, he was easy on the eyes.

So, was it really surprising that you looked forward to your next meeting with him?

“It’s not a date,” you reassured yourself in front of your mirror while applying gloss and straightening your clothes to keep them spotless.

The second time you met, it was at the same café.

The same orders.

But with a little more joy.

And with every meeting, there were a little more laughs, more teasing, more good moments, fewer bad memories flying away, and your doubts fading into the tranquility that Satoru Gojo brought you.

He quickly became an excellent friend. As you started opening up more and more to him, he began to allow himself to give you advice, rolling his eyes approvingly during your ranting sessions about your husband, where, despite the pang in his heart, Satoru kept repeating that you deserved better.

And as time went by, your bond with him grew stronger. You didn’t feel so alone anymore. He always found time for you, even when he was busy at the office.

Your husband’s absence quickly became just a minor detail in your life.

Especially when Satoru started showering you with gifts you categorically refused. If it was a dress one time, the next it was a necklace of genuine pearls, or lunch at fancy restaurants you never thought you’d set foot in.

The guilt inevitably crept up on you from every angle.

Whether it was over the fact that Satoru’s devotion to you made you feel illegitimate in receiving so much from someone who wasn’t even your partner. Or your husband.

Was it betrayal?

You weren’t cheating on him.

You were just spending time with someone who made time for you.

How could one equate cheating with this friendship, right?

This question lingered until the day, during a dinner with Satoru, when he had stepped away for a few minutes to settle the bill, a young man approached your table, trying to flirt with you and convince you to end the evening at a nightclub his friend owned, where they’d be delighted to meet you along with the rest of their crew. With all due respect, you refused, despite the young man’s persistence.

And when Satoru returned to the table, he immediately sat beside you, his arm infuriatingly well-placed around your waist to keep you close.

“Can I help you? My wife seems tired; tell me what you need,” Satoru chimed in, his tone icy as he glared at the young man.

“You’re married?” the man choked out, his tone echoing the same shock you felt internally.

“Yes, I’m her husband. Isn’t it obvious?” he confirmed.

Later, in the chilling silence outside the restaurant, Satoru restrained himself from pulling you into a tight hug as the two of you walked down the street. You walked at a more reasonable distance from him, your chin lowered in guilt toward the ground.

The night sky was a deep navy blue that evening. The stars barely sparkled, and only the snow added a touch of brightness to the urban landscape, where the yellow and orange streetlights could never match the glitter in the sky.

“You alright?” Satoru asked softly, stealing a concerned glance at you.

“I’m… fine,” you muttered.

He couldn’t hear any more of that. “Hey, if this is about what I said earlier—”

“Who said it’s about that?” you snapped defensively. Suddenly, it felt like all the perfect moments had turned into nightmares.

“I didn’t mean to make you unco—” he began, but you cut him off again.

“Who said I was uncomfortable?” you bit out, your brows furrowing as if you couldn’t take any more. “It’s not like I feel like a cheater—”

“Don’t call yourself that. It’s him,” Satoru interrupted sharply, immediately grabbing your wrist to hold your hand. “It’s all his fault. So, please, don’t feel—”

“God, I’m a married woman, Satoru, for fuck’s sake!” You tried to pull your hand back, but Satoru held it tighter.

“And a woman who also deserves better than to feel bad for her shitty husband who’s probably cheating on her!” he fired back with the same intensity. “Do you even see what you’re losing with him, at least?”

“Where is this conversation going?” you asked, squinting. “What the fuck do you mean? For weeks now, you’ve been telling me I deserve ‘better’!”

The situation felt so wrong yet so right at the same time. But it was only in Satoru’s eyes, watching you with a worried crease between his brows, that the truth lingered.

Of course, he didn’t want to lose you.

“Because you do,” he mouthed.

“But with who?” you cried out in despair.

“Isn’t that obvious?” he whispered, echoing his earlier words.

Even though the two of you had stopped walking and now faced each other, the wintry wind continued to swirl around you, biting at your cheeks already burned by the cold, screaming the answer behind his words. Snowflakes tangled in your hair, scarf, and coat. On Satoru, it was different — the snowflakes melted into his hair, his nose and cheeks were flushed pink from the cold, and every exhale left a white cloud trailing from his lips.

Only his eyes remained untouched. Fixed on you. Truthful.

“You can— You cannot,” you finally sighed, ignoring how your body felt simultaneously on fire and frozen. You staggered toward a nearby wall. “Take back what you just said, not to me,” you whispered almost pleadingly. You shut your eyes for a moment, as if trying to wake from a nightmare.

Satoru closed the distance between you in a single stride.

He gently took your hand and placed it against his chest. “Yes, you’re right. I cannot. My heart is yours. I cannot deny it. I cannot control it. I cannot help it. Do whatever you want with it. Even broken and unrequited, my heart is yours and only belongs to you.”

His breath brushed your cheek so tenderly it felt unreal — yet so undeniably real.

And this time, from your point of view. No longer his.

The suffocating closeness became unbearable. You were about to break. He needed to step back, to leave, to go.

“I— I…” you stuttered.

Thoughts swirled in your mind, just like the snowflakes around you both. Every thought blurred together, and only one tried to rise above and clear the chaos.

But it was the worst thought of all.

And yet, the only one capable of deciding the next move.

In a spontaneous gesture, you bent your head toward Satoru’s lips, sealing both the kiss and the fate he had always fought against.

It didn’t matter if you both ended up hurt.

No matter what the consequences.

Now was not the time to think about that.

As you tried to pull away from Satoru to catch your breath, he pulled you against him the next second to taste you once more, the heat intensifying even more to the point of melting the snow falling on you. Each kiss exuded forbidden desire and despair.

And even when you two pulled away, you didn’t keep any gap.

Just you and him.

As it was always supposed to be.

To feel.

To live.

Fluttering your eyes open, you come back to reality.

How did you get here?

It's a familiar scenario, or not.

Satoru arriving unannounced, you busy with household chores, your husband away for perhaps the next day.

But a premonition clouds all common sense.

This day is different. You don’t know from where, or who or what, but one thing is sure.

This time spent rambling has made you forget all about the dishes still waiting for you, while a plate and a sponge damp with foam hang from your hands. Another very humdrum day. Grey sky, water-logged clouds ready to pour and burst in a storm that never comes.

Satoru’s arms wrapped as a feather’s touch around you doesn’t feel as good and soothing as before. 

“Missed ya,” he mumbles close to your ear. “How are you, darling?”

“You know that he could be here,” you scold in a low voice. “You can’t keep showing up at my door unannounced.” You continue with your dishes without returning any embrace. Nothing seems to fit. Your response is borderline nasty.

“You’re alright?” he asks softly anyway, not detaching himself from you.

His voice resonates like a cave inside you. A cheater who’s also unfairly mean, how can a better description describe you? you think.

You hum.

One of Satoru’s large, rough hands tenderly caresses your waist. “Do you have time for me? If you’re not tired, of course. I can’t help but need to crave your presence.”

Your heart slowly contorts in your chest, hidden beneath the cage of your ribs. “I didn’t mean to be rude, sorry—”

“Don’t apologize, love.” He presses a sluggish kiss on your cheek. “You must be so tired.”

Only the sound of the water rushing down in the sink can be heard in the kitchen. You close the tap and sigh, hands resting on the edge of the sink. “I need to finish the dishes and some chores, maybe you can sit on the couch and rest?” you offer, slightly turning your head around to meet his gaze.

How can a man be so perfect?

“I can help you,” he offers too, then puts a long forefinger on your lips to quiet you. “It wasn’t a question.”

If only this man could be your husband. Life would be easier in his company, wouldn’t it?

About half an hour later, Satoru fully joins you in your cleaning mission, tackling everything from the remaining dishes to the dusting and other tasks that make him scrunch up his nose in mild disdain.

As he wanders into the bedroom you share with your husband, Satoru passes by a photo frame he hasn’t truly noticed before. It’s a simple picture of you, smiling brighter than ever alongside a man who should be him. The man with HIS arm wrapped around your waist. The man with HIS lips pressed against your temple while, in Satoru’s eyes, you radiate as the sole light of his life in your wedding dress.

You pass quietly behind Satoru, a clean cloth in hand.

“Toru?” You rise slightly onto your toes to peek over his shoulder, noticing what has held his gaze for so long, leaving him as still as a statue. “Oh. I was going to clean that.”

Taking the frame into your hands, a pang of guilt twists your heart as Satoru’s blue eyes follow every inch of the photo. His gaze weighs on you, heavy and suffocating with discomfort.

One sweep of the cloth, and the modest frame gleams.

“Why do you keep it?” he asks in a breath.

You look up, your gaze as lost in his as you are. “What do you mean?”

“This picture,” he says, pointing at it with his finger. “Didn’t you say you wanted to throw it away?” His low tone brushes your cheek with a soft rumble, and his features tighten in a small frown of confusion, the weight of which seems to press on your soul.

“I—” You sigh. “My husband put it here. I don’t know why.”

“And you didn’t throw it away.”

You open your mouth to respond but hesitate, unsure of what to say.

“...You know I can make your life easier, don’t you?” Satoru murmurs as he slowly, almost theatrically, lets his arms wrap around you after tossing your cleaning cloth aside.

“I know,” you murmur, as if it’s the most obvious truth. As always, your body melts against his, the way two souls inevitably fuse together.

“Would you leave this life behind and finally settle down with me?” His arms tighten around you, pulling you flush against him as he takes a deep breath into the crook of your neck. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while now.”

The atmosphere in the room thickens suddenly. Guilt surges within you, as it always does. It seems like it can never leave you alone.

Of course, Satoru is hurt—that much is clear.

“I really would, Satoru, but right now, it’s complicated,” you breathe against his collarbone, the corners of your lips tugging downward.

“When will it stop being complicated, then? If not now, when?” His grip on you tightens.

“It’s not that simple.” Familiar terror coils in your stomach now, threatening to drown you. This conversation is heading toward turbulent waters.

He pulls back slightly, just enough to align his face with yours. His eyes search yours for answers. “You know, sometimes I wonder how long I can keep waiting for you to finally decide if I really matter.”

You blink twice, stunned, before resting your hands on his shoulders. “Hey. What do you mean by that? You matter to me—you know that, don’t you?” Your brows furrow gently, your expression softening despite the rising tension.

“I don’t want to hide anymore. And I don’t want to see you stressed about hiding either,” he whispers in a gruff tone. His expression mirrors your own: lips slightly pursed, brows furrowed, and eyes filled with a mixture of exhaustion and worry.

“I’m… sorry,” you murmur, the only words you can manage. They are genuine. They are truthful. Just like Satoru always is with you—never a lie.

Even when he leans down to kiss you slowly, you can feel his emotions pouring into it.

Hurt. Today, you ponder, returning the movement of his lips as your eyes flutter shut.

Quickly, the pressure of his lips grows more intense. Each time your mouths part, Satoru makes sure they reunite as swiftly as they separate. Breath soon becomes scarce, and things take a turn when his hands grip your hips so firmly you fear marks might be left behind. You try to pull away quickly.

“Satoru, wait— I need to be careful this time, you know,” you whisper softly against his fervent lips. “It’s been a while now that he’s started wondering why I don’t want to have sex with him.”

“You always come up with an excuse, don’t you? A few marks won’t mean anything,” he mutters, eyes closed, as though the fire within him burns hotter than ever for you.

“He’ll see them. I just want you to be careful,” you insist. But your attempt is futile, as his kisses grow more passionate. Each one is placed meticulously on the sensitive spots of your body while he gently guides you toward the bed, lowering you onto it.

“I want to please you so badly,” Satoru confesses, his vulnerable gaze meeting your half-lidded eyes as he hovers above you. His eyes brim with an intensity that makes your heart ache.

“Let me take care of you.”

Your expression softens immediately, the growing heat between your thighs matching the fire in your chest. “I want it too, baby. But are you sure you want to do this?”

He nods firmly. “I’m sure. And you?”

“I am.”

In the moments that follow, you no longer plead for him to avoid leaving marks. Deep down, you doubt he’ll listen to you on that.

Especially when his lips press against your neck, your collarbone, the shell of your ears, and the valley of your breasts. His mouth kisses, sucks, marks, nibbles, and even gently bites at your skin—all to draw whimpers, moans, and sighs of pleasure from your lips. The same lips he endlessly worships, just as he does every inch of you.

~~~~

Fresh out of the shower, alone but with your phone, you receive a message that immediately catches your attention as you sit cautiously against the edge of your bathtub.

I might be a little late tonight. Have dinner without me.

Your heart immediately falls into the pit of your stomach.

Is this for your co-worker again? Can’t she finish her work on her own like everyone else?

A minute later, a message appears:

It’s normal, I’m her superior.

At the same time, your eyelids contract around your eyeballs. You feel a rush of heat, and adrenalin tingles your insides.

You know I don’t like her. And yet you continue to spend more time with her than with me. Do you think that's normal?

Why do you always have to get mad? Just admit that you’re jealous.

And the last word is like a slap in the face.

This is how you started.

Part of you knew it all along. But another part was in denial. It was shortly before Satoru became your lover that your husband started seeing a female colleague far too often, making eyes at her while you stood there like an idiot, watching them exchange glances where your voice would carry the same weight as the silence of their own eye contact: nothing.

Satoru had warned you.

He tried to prevent your heart from breaking as much as possible.

And this is the result when denial wins out over reason:

...You like to call me ‘jealous’ these days, tell me?

And the irony reeks in your message.

Of course, he started calling you ever since that infamous colleague showed up.

It’s as if he’s implying every time that you’d be envious of something you don’t have. So, it’s easy to figure out now, isn’t it? Why would he even talk about jealousy otherwise?

And why does he just leave your message on ‘read’?

~~~~

“I told you to be careful.”

“You always know how to escape him.”

“I’m running out of excuses.”

“You’re smart. You’ll fix it. As you fix everything.”

And who to fix me?

Sitting in front of your vanity, you swallow, feeling sick to your stomach as the purple and blue marks Satoru has left on your body from his hickeys don’t disappear from your view even as you discreetly pinch your arm to check you're in a nightmare.

Unfortunately no.

After pressing your anxiety-stricken face into your trembling hands, you lift your head to meet your reflection once more. In the corner of the mirror, Satoru’s silhouette lies casually, a smug, teasing smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Your shaky fingers grab hold of your cheap foundation, the cap refusing to budge under the weakness of your frantic movements. Every second wasted only fuels the growing panic — your husband could walk in at any moment.

The beauty blender, however, seems just as uncooperative. Each attempt leaves you looking more like a clown. No coverage.

Only regrets. Regrets you can no longer conceal, no matter how much you try.

A heavy, trembling sigh escapes you despite your best efforts to stay calm. From behind, Satoru lets out a distinct chuckle, rich with amusement at your growing frustration.

He’s moved closer now, standing right behind you, his gaze almost entertained as he watches you struggle to mask the marks with concealer this time. But no layer of makeup can save you. None is thick enough or looks natural enough to hide what you’ve done.

“Why are you even trying? It’s not going to work,” Satoru whispers close to your ear. “Why not just give up and tell him the truth?”

“Satoru, get out.”

“Make me.” His tone is dripping with that insufferable grin.

You clench your fists, fighting the urge to smash it right off his face. Your heart hammers in your chest like cannonballs, threatening to break free from your compressed rib cage.

Everything can’t fall apart this quickly, can it?

Not after all the effort you’ve put in.

“You look like a clown, by the way,” he quips, the bluntness of his words scratching your heart. You let out an involuntary, quiet, “Ouch.”

“Did you just come here to use me as your personal slut? To call me a clown? If I knew, I wouldn’t have let you in at all,” you spit as you turn your head, locking your glare onto his.

Satoru’s expression softens at the sight of your deepening frown. “I didn’t come for that. And you’re not a slut. Why are you so mad?” He cautiously places his hands on the backrest of your chair, his movements calculated.

You scoff bitterly. “Is that supposed to be a joke?”

“You’re still mad about the marks? It’s just a few bites and hickeys—it’s not that big a deal,” he says, though his face mirrors yours: tense, confused, and searching for answers.

He’s never been like this.

“If you’re hurt, then I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I just want you to stop stressing over some bites. I’ve always done this. I haven’t changed, you know.”

You turn completely in your chair to face him, blood rushing in your temples. “Tell me this is a joke. Or a prank.”

“I said I’m—”

“Why didn’t you listen to me about the marks? About the fact that I don’t have any excuses left? He’s going to find out now. And instead of helping me, you’re mocking me because I look like shit with this?” you shout, pointing at the streaky, cakey makeup smeared over your collarbone.

Is this what a couple looks like? Fighting to hurt each other as much as possible?

Satoru can see how deeply his behavior wounds you. The way you swallow carefully, trying to keep your emotions at bay. The way your eyes are beginning to redden, signaling the impending arrival of tears.

Lowering his voice, he speaks, hoping against hope that you’ll break down and let him handle everything. Let him erase this life with your husband and give you a better one. He knows you can keep living under a mountain of lies, but he’s suffocating.

“Okay, I’m really sorry if I hurt you,” he murmurs.

“If you were that sorry, you wouldn’t lie about using me whenever you please. You wouldn’t just act how you want without asking me what I truly want or need. Why? Because you’re selfish, Gojo,” you snap, your voice cracking slightly. You rise abruptly from the chair, intent on leaving the room before you explode.

He immediately grabs your wrist, pulling you into him, and tilts your chin up to meet his eyes. The panic in his movements betrays him—he’s afraid you’ll say something that will tear him apart.

“Don’t—Don’t call me that. Sweetheart—”

“You know what? Just tell me I’m your slut. Because that’s clearly what I’m meant to be for you,” you cut him off, tears pooling in your eyes and threatening to fall. You yank your wrist out of his grip with a sharp movement.

His hands move to cup your face, desperation bleeding through his trembling fingers, even as he tries to conceal it.

“Okay, I messed up. But please, don’t degrade yourself. You’re not my slut. You’re the only person I love and care about. I—” He exhales shakily, his jaw tightening and relaxing in quick succession. “I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just… I’m so damn jealous. I get so jealous when I think about him… with you. I can’t stand it anymore.”

“Is that all this is? Jealousy? What’s the fucking point of it?” you retort, shoving his hands and arms away with enough force to make your blood boil. Then, in a blind fury, you hurl the concealer bottle across the room, the sound of it hitting the wall echoing like a final, deafening blow.

Satoru flinches slightly at the sound of the concealer bottle hitting the floor. He knows you’re holding back, teetering on the edge of exploding. “It’s not just jealousy,” he admits softly. “It’s fear, anger... and love, I guess.” He runs a tired hand through his snowy hair, sighing deeply. “And knowing I can’t have you the way I want to… that drives me insane.”

A vein pulses visibly in your temple, your frustration bubbling over. “You drive me insane!” you snap, jabbing your finger into his chest.

For a brief moment, Satoru’s lips almost curl into a smirk, but he stops himself when he sees the fire blazing in your eyes. He knows you’re serious, that this isn’t the time for his antics. Yet he can’t help but find you captivating like this—unapologetically yourself.

“Yeah, I’d say the feeling’s mutual, sweetheart,” he retorts, raising an eyebrow, his gaze dropping momentarily to the finger poking his chest as though he’s admiring your nerve.

The silence that follows is suffocating. The only sounds are your heated, shallow breaths, echoing in the small space between you.

You take several slow, deliberate steps back, your eyes fixed on his ocean-blue gaze. You catch the flicker of a moment—a split second where his eyes dart to your lips.

The tension between you is almost unbearable. The faint brush of his hips against yours as he steps closer sends a ripple of unease and anticipation through you. Your breaths mingle in the narrowing space. You both know exactly what’s happening, yet neither of you moves to break it.

“I hate you, you know that?” you whisper, pouring all the bitterness and hurt from your chest into the words.

Satoru raises an eyebrow, his face a mere breath away from yours. His broad, powerful form looms over you, trapping you against the wall without lifting a single hand. The tension radiating from him is magnetic, suffocating.

“That’s a lie, and we both know it,” he says, his voice soft and calm, but laced with that maddening confidence.

His heart pounds wildly in his chest, the light graze of your body against his and the fiery defiance in your darkened eyes making him dangerously close to losing control. He wants to kiss you—devour you—so badly it hurts. But he knows he’s already crossed lines, already messed up.

He clenches his fists, willing himself to stay composed. He would never take advantage of you like this. He’d rather let you hurt him, use him, break him into pieces.

Oh, screw it.

“Sweetheart,” he mouths, barely audible. His lips form the words so softly that you have to read them. His intense eyes stay locked on yours, unwavering. “What are you thinking right now?”

“This isn’t the time for your stupid jokes—”

He silences you with a single, long finger placed gently on your lips. “Answer the question, love.” His towering frame looms closer, his voice a deep rumble, and the tension only thickens.

You take a shaky breath. “Y-Yell at you, hit you, throw everything I have at you to finally make your goddamn mouth shut for good,” you hiss, your anger slipping through the cracks in your voice.

“Do it, then. I’m the one who’s wrong.”

Your lips part, and your eyes widen in surprise.

Satoru grabs your trembling hand and firmly places it against his chest, right over his racing heart. His voice softens. “Go on. Yell at me. Hit me. Use me however you need to.”

His pulse mirrors yours, beating in sync, loud and unruly.

Your gaze catches the subtle flicker of his eyes darting to your lips again, the ever-so-slight sway of his body bringing him closer.

When you lift your hand, Satoru doesn’t flinch. He braces himself, ready to take whatever you’re about to give him.

But instead of striking him, your hand fists the collar of his shirt. With one hard tug, you pull him down, crashing his mouth onto yours in a desperate, fiery kiss as though it’s your last breath.

Satoru responds immediately, kissing you back with the same raw intensity. His large hands snake around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His lips, teeth, and tongue all move in a fervent, chaotic dance with yours, each touch more intoxicating than the last.

When he finally pulls back, his breath is ragged, his lips still brushing against yours. He doesn’t let you go, his arms holding you close as if letting you go would shatter him.

“Sweetheart,” he rasps, his voice low and rough, chest heaving against yours. His hand trails to your neck, then your jaw, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “What are you thinking now?”

His warm, uneven breaths ghost over your lips, and you fight the overwhelming urge to kiss him again. Your anger hasn’t fully subsided, still simmering beneath the surface.

“You. You’re haunting me. Sometimes so much that I can’t think of anything else,” you admit, your voice trembling with emotion.

His eyes burn brighter, the ardor in them impossible to miss. “God, sweetheart…” he murmurs, pressing soft, fluttering kisses along your neck, his lips scorching your sensitive skin. “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted this. Wanted you. Only you. No more lies, no more heartbreak.”

Each kiss he plants on your skin draws breathy, unsteady sighs from your lips. “Y-You’re selfish…” you manage to say between ragged breaths, your nails digging into the firm muscles of his biceps. “So fucking selfish…”

“If being this desperate for you, for your love, is selfish, then I’m on my knees, my love,” he replies, his voice like velvet. He kisses the marks on your skin, the ones you tried to cover, with a tenderness that makes your heart ache. “I’m all yours. Completely yours.”

He slides the strap of your tank top down, revealing more of the skin he adores. His lips graze it gently as he whispers, “I didn’t mean a single word about you looking like a clown. I just want you to be happy… with someone who loves you and doesn’t cheat on you.”

His hands cup your face delicately, tilting it up so your eyes meet his. His voice drops to a whisper, raw and sincere. “I’m deeply sorry, sweetheart.”

The genuine vulnerability in his gaze hits you hard.

You punch his chest — not out of anger, but because you don’t know what else to do with the emotions clawing at your chest. “I hate you, remember?”

A smile spreads across Satoru’s face, soft and warm, despite the tension in the room. “As much as I’m obsessed with you.”

Your free hand tangles itself in his silky white hair, tugging lightly as your fingers weave through the strands. With just enough force, you pull him down once again, capturing his lips in a searing, passionate kiss that holds every ounce of anger, frustration, and longing you feel for him.

As surprising as it may seem, Satoru lets a smile stretch against your lips — pressed together in a sloppy, wet kiss that blends tongues, lips, and teeth. Your chest, magnetized to his, feels the pounding of his heart, each beat drumming against you like a bass drum.

Your teeth part, biting his lower lip cruelly, hard enough for a faint taste of blood to seep into your mouth. Yet, he doesn’t seem fazed by it. In fact, he lets himself get intoxicated by your steamy breath, swallowing every gasp of air you exhale as if it’s his only source of oxygen.

With a natural ease, one of Satoru’s hands grabs yours and pins them above your head, pressing them against the wall as his pelvis grinds into yours. You feel the growing bulge you’ve provoked pressing against you.

“See what you do to me?” he breathes in your ear, breaking the kiss sloppily.

“And you’ll lose it completely when I fuck you until I’m the only one you’re thinking of,” you snap back, wrapping one leg around his hip before climbing fully onto him. With both legs now locked around his waist, your back is pinned to the wall, and your newly freed hands are poised to ravage your lover.

Blood rushes through your temples, creating a buzz in your ears. Your flushed ears mirror the crimson tips of Satoru’s. Supporting you with one arm, he uses the other to trace a finger across your lips, smearing the remnants of his blood there.

“Can’t wait to think even more of you — even though you already fill all my dreams and nightmares,” he murmurs with a sly grin. Then, both hands slide to your thighs, gripping them as he carries you to the bed—the same bed where you had your last steamy session with him.

Kneeling at the foot of the bed, Satoru settles between your legs while you lay back comfortably, fully aware he plans to take care of you before you ruin him. With practiced ease, his rough but tender hands remove your pajama shorts and panties, discarding them to the floor with a soft rustle. Your skin is adorned with earlier marks—purplish bruises, handprints, and hickeys — all of which tell a story (a decidedly sexy one, at that).

Just the sight of your spread legs, offering him an unobstructed view of your glistening, swollen folds — still slick from earlier—ignites a fiery tremor in his core. He’s practically salivating at the sight but regains focus when your heel presses sharply against his shoulder, a silent demand for urgency.

“Don’t make me wait,” you mouth, locking your gaze with his as his mouth inches dangerously close to your core.

Impatience mingles with the tension crackling between you. The moment his lips close around your clit, a hiss escapes your mouth.

Your fingers thread through his snow-white hair as though it’s the only lifeline keeping you from falling into the abyss. His warm, skilled tongue laps at your folds with slow, ravenous intensity. Every stroke of his tongue sends jolts of pleasure surging through you, spurring him to drink you in until his thirst is quenched.

“Satoru, f-fast—ah,” you stammer when his tongue flicks your now puffy, sensitive clit with pinpoint precision.

Your eyes roll back, your breath quickens, and your body trembles with each wave of pleasure. Your hands tug incessantly at his hair, driving him absolutely wild.

“Faster?” He looks up at you, his mouth still latched onto your center. “Is that what you—lick—want? Keep ripping my hair out, then.”

And that’s exactly what he makes you do. Your hips buck involuntarily toward his face, and he grunts in approval, gripping your hips with his large hands. Then, he lifts your legs over his arms and shoulders, perfectly positioning himself to devour you even more deeply.

Determined to make you cum as quickly as possible, the tip of his tongue teases your dripping, needy entrance. He feels your walls fluttering, your core pulsing and throbbing, empty and desperate.

The idea of filling you crosses his mind.

“Poor thing needs to be filled, huh?” he chuckles darkly, his voice thick and gravelly.

When he slides a long finger into you — slowly, carefully — the way your velvety walls clench tightly around him nearly makes him lose control on the spot. You grip his digit so tightly, drawing him deeper, that every movement inside you elicits louder, breathier curses laced with frustration.

“Don’t try to mock me, you bast— ah!” you moan, throwing your head back on the mattress the second after the pad of his forefinger reached your cervix — a spot that you can never reach yourself and even your husband. “Oh my God, I hate you so much…”

“You know what I love the most when we’re doing it?” Satoru whispers with a smirk, bringing his damp lips back to your clit to suck your bud at the same time as he’s fingering you. “When you lose all—kiss—your—lick—control—suck—only from my touch, aren’t you, sweetheart?” he purrs against your core, his finger curling up right in your sweet spot. “Say you hate me baby, I’m just waiting for you to be ready and take care of me.”

“I—you buck your hips harder—hate you,” you groan louder and firmer than earlier and clench around him right before cumming hard, hips bucking up against him and arching your back with no control over it.

Your vision blurs and star-like spots pop on your darkening vision. The intensity of your orgasm crashes over you so hard that for a few seconds, you’re losing almost all your senses — hearing, sight and touch — because of your mind going dizzy.

When the sensation wears off, a quick glance to the side reveals an already undressed Satoru, his impatient length just waiting for your attention — already twitching and hard like rock for you.

With a wry smile plastered to his lips, he reaches over you to grab your hips and gently lift you up and switch places — him lying on his back and you sitting so sensuously on top of him with your thighs delicately wrapped around his hips. He can't resist submitting to you completely.

Your still pulsing core rests straight on his cock, like you are riding him for real — or not yet.

Your senses restored, you don’t wait long before raising your hips, Satoru’s hands still holding them, and taking in his drooling length of precum with one hand. As you lower your hips, the fat tip of Satoru's dick pushes forward your hole and gets trapped in your walls glistening with your juices.

You both moan at the same time, head throwing back and mouth open ajar from the strong pleasure. Each inch that was moving further more into your cunt until the mushroom tip kisses your cervix was already being milked because your walls are so fucking sensitive that it’s making Satoru’s eyes roll back and babble nonsense.

“Sweet— Sweetheart, don’t squeeze y-yet, I need time to—” But you cut him off with your forefinger pressed against his handsome lips.

“Nuh-uh.” You lean in with a mischievous smile plastered on your face, eyes gleaming with the satisfaction of being on top of him. “You’re going to be a good boy and take my pussy, understood?” And you punctuate your warning with a sharp bounce of your hips that makes him moan with pleasure then nod hurriedly.

“Mhh—hmph!”

So you start moving your hips up and down with purposeful slowness.

Your hand wraps around his throat and squeezes gently. Your hips bounce harder each time, and you ignore Satoru’s uncontrolled moans, which, despite his clenched jaw, can't help letting out moans and whimpers of pleasure.

“Who’s a good boy, tell me?” you ask, thrusting down your hips along his cock harder once more.

“N-Not gonna say it, sweetie,” Satoru chokes out between breathless hiccups because your hand squeezes his throat harder. “You can bet it— God…” He can feel your walls tightening around him, your core pulsing and his length throbbing inside you and at the verge of spilling out all the cum his sensitive balls were holding back. His hands grip your hips with more force that it’ll leave marks but you both don’t care anymore.

It’s just you and him having sex to see who will break first.

Your heavy, noisy breaths — not to mention the wet sounds of your skin slapping against each other — fill the room. Hot blood courses through both your veins, but nothing can stop your hips from slamming mercilessly into Satoru, tightening every time you’re bouncing on him.

Even though you two are at the verge of reaching orgasm, you wanted to have your way with him this time.

“I hate you, Satoru Gojo,” you groan, leaning your chest against his before moving faster as your breath. His arms wrap around your back to get you close and then he can start matching your movements.

He presses his lips on your ear and whispers breathlessly, “I’m your, utterly yours,” right before cumming at the same time as your, his semen filling immediately your cunt as you clench around him and let out a similar pathetic whimper like him.

Toes curled up and eyelids shutting down, you both hug each other until the orgasm goes away. Not before a good one minute. Silence fills the room before your brain melts away to focus on the still rapid beating of your heart against Satoru’s chest.

“After this, I’ll help you pack your important things and we go home. Our true home, okay?” he murmurs against your ear. “I’ll give you the life you want and deserve, sweetheart. No need to think about anything or anyone else.” And he concludes with a loving kiss on your temple as you nod, resting your cheek on his collarbone.

His big hand runs through your tousled hair before continuing to tenderly kiss your burning faces.

“I hate you,” you mumble, your mind growing heavy for a sleep.

“I love you too.”

a/n: it's been a while that i didn’t write a long one-shot like this one but it’s relaxing in a way lol. a big thank you for @/lymsfm for helping me through this hell, i genuinely don’t know what i would do without you and sorry for all my rants and your patience by listening to me getting crazy for literally everything 😭. so on this, i hope you guys enjoyed this fic and see you soon! <3

tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422

@drippymcdrippison @koshhin @v31v3t @wawuwe @catrizzz @sanemistar

@monokaix @moonlitwitchdaisy

[megumismyhusband]

rin itoshi wasn’t the type to watch silly little rom-coms, but here he was, sitting on the couch all alone while you were out. the movie on the screen showcased a disgustingly rich man who adored his wife and showed it by spoiling her with everything money could buy—designer clothes, shoes, bags, jewelry, you name it. the woman looked happy, beaming at her husband like he’d hung the stars for her.

rin couldn’t focus on the rest of the movie. his mind snagged on that one thought: she looked happy because of all those things.

rin knew you deserved the best. no question about that. and sure, he worked hard, brought in more than enough money, but had he ever gone out of his way to spoil you like that? could you ever feel that kind of happiness with him if he didn’t? the idea gnawed at him, quiet but insistent.

the next day, he started. subtle, at first—a new designer coat left on your chair when you woke up. when you tried to ask, rin just mumbled something about how “you needed a good coat for the winter.”

then, the gifts piled up. shoes. jewelry. bags. a random cartier box sitting on the counter one morning. an envelope stuffed with tickets to an exclusive spa retreat the next. by the weekend, your closet looked like the flagship store of every luxury brand in existence.

“rin,” you called one evening, holding up a glittering necklace you swore you’d seen on a celebrity once. “what’s all this for?”

rin didn’t look up from where he was pretending to focus on his phone. “you deserve it.”

“i mean, thanks, but why?”

he seemed to hesitate, his fingers twitching at the edge of the phone. “i just… want you to be happy,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.

you tilted your head, a puzzled expression crossing your face. “you’re already making me happy, rin. i don’t need all of this stuff.”

he cleared his throat awkwardly, eyes avoiding yours. “i thought… i thought maybe you’d want it. or, i don’t know, i thought i might’ve been… i don’t know, not enough?” his voice faltered, something like worry creeping in.

you blinked at him in confusion before your lips curled into a soft, reassuring smile. “rin, you’re more than enough. i’m not going anywhere, okay?” you stepped closer, gently cupping his face with your hands. “i don’t care about the gifts, the bags, or any of that stuff. i just want you. and you’re all i need.”

he didn’t respond right away, his eyes softening as he processed your words. and then, slowly, his shoulders relaxed, his usual tense expression giving way to something far more vulnerable. the tension in his chest loosened, replaced by a warmth that made his heart flutter.

“you sure?” he asked quietly, his hands slowly finding their way to yours.

“i’m sure,” you said, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “you’ve always been enough, rin.”

your smile was so genuine, so full of love, and rin realized then that he would do anything to keep that smile on your face forever.

[aventurineswife]

Hiya!!! I wanted to request how HSR people (Jing Yuan specifically, but you can do more if you want, I just feel silly saying a specific person ;~;) would be with a Cat hybrid s/o? For genre I'd say mostly fluff. I'm not sure how to give more description, cause I'd love to hear your thoughts! If you do this, thank you so much!!! If not/you don't feel comfortable with it, that's totally okay too!!! Either way, love your writing!!! Have a good day/night!!! And please make sure to rest, eat, and drink some water :D <3

The Sound of Purring Peace

Summary: Jing Yuan finds comfort in the quiet company of his cat hybrid significant other. In a rare moment of peace away from his duties, he teases and spoils you with affection, encouraging you to help him rest. As you curl up together, the stresses of leadership melt away, and the two of you share a tender, intimate moment.

Tags: Jing Yuan x Reader, Cat Hybrid!Reader, Fluff, Comfort, Soft Moments, Affectionate Jing Yuan, Rest, Tenderness, Romantic.

The bustling corridors of the Xianzhou Luofu quieted as you slipped into Jing Yuan’s chambers. Being a cat hybrid had its perks; stealth came naturally to you. Your ears flicked in response to the faint rustle of papers, followed by a soft exhale. Jing Yuan, the esteemed Arbiter-General of the Cloud Knights, was at his desk, eyes focused on a scroll. His long hair shimmered under the warm lamplight, tied loosely with the familiar red ribbon.

But your heart melted when you saw the faintest smile tug at his lips. He always knew when you were near.

"You're late," Jing Yuan said, not bothering to look up, his voice smooth and teasing.

You pouted, tail swishing behind you. “Says the man who naps half the day. How do you even notice the time?”

He chuckled softly, setting the scroll aside. “An Arbiter-General must remain observant at all times. Besides…” His gaze lifted, eyes locking with yours. “You’re quite hard to miss, little cat.”

Your cheeks warmed at the affectionate nickname. Bounding over to him, you perched on the armrest of his chair, curling your tail around yourself. He reached out, his hand gentle as it brushed against your ears. A purr involuntarily rumbled from your chest.

“Ah, there it is,” he murmured, leaning back as if satisfied with his discovery. “My greatest weapon—your purring.”

You swatted at his arm, but there was no real strength behind it. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet,” he countered, cupping your chin, his thumb brushing against your cheek, “you keep coming back.”

Silence lingered for a moment, the soft hum of the room wrapping around you both. Jing Yuan’s thumb traced slow, soothing patterns along your jawline. You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes as the tension of the day melted away.

“You’re overworking yourself again,” you murmured. “When’s the last time you took a proper break?”

He smirked. “I believe I took a rather refreshing nap yesterday.”

“That doesn’t count!” Your tail flicked in mild annoyance, but he only chuckled.

“Hmm. Perhaps I’ve been remiss in caring for myself,” he conceded, though his tone held a mischievous edge. “Would you, my dear, take it upon yourself to enforce my rest?”

You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes. “Are you asking me to become your personal nap enforcer?”

“Precisely.” Jing Yuan stood, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. You squawked in protest, but he carried you to the plush couch near the window, settling down with you nestled against his chest. His capes draped over both of you like a blanket.

“You’re impossible,” you grumbled, though you couldn’t deny how comfortable you were in his embrace. Your tail curled around his arm, and he let out a soft sigh, resting his chin atop your head.

For a moment, the weight of his responsibilities seemed to lift. The Dozing General, the Divine Foresight, the leader of the Cloud Knights—none of those titles mattered here. He was simply Jing Yuan, holding the person who made the endless march of time feel a little less lonely.

“Rest with me,” he whispered, voice low and warm. “I’ll sleep better knowing you’re here.”

You let out a soft purr in response, and his eyes softened further. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulled you into a shared tranquility. In this quiet moment, with no battles to fight or strategies to plan, it was just the two of you—content, safe, and at peace.

[caotictimmy]

I’m gonna kms I tried typing this out but tumbler deleted it… but anyways this is off of a request I sent to an amazing writer here a while back! This is gonna be about madoka magica reader. The reader will be based off of madoka magica which means age, also will be in 7th grade like her. Beta we die like Jason.

Imagine the angst opportunity for madoka magica! Reader. You were dirt on a breath taking painting. An unusable brush, half of the stick broke off. The bristles manically pointed in different directions. The brush only being able to paint disastrous pieces. A wilted hyacinth in a pot filled with flourishing sunflowers. You only brought the family down You Aren’t Special.

You knew you weren’t special the moment you stepped into the manor. The darkness of the hallways judging you. The only comfort at night was the nightlight by your bed. The walls looming over you. Watching your every move. The pathetic kid who couldn’t be like them. You Aren’t Special.

You knew you weren’t special when you saw how they were. Intelligent, talented, inspiring. Everything you weren’t. You wanted to be so desperately to be like them. You could never be like them though. You think with your heart instead of your mind, but you practically wear your heart on your sleeve. You are weak. You Aren’t special.

So that one fateful day when you wanted to take a walk around, finding an injured cat in an ally, or what looked to be a cat. You couldn’t bear to leave the poor creature there. Silly you! What have we told you about wearing your heart on your sleeve. You took it home, trying to care the best for it that you could. You had little knowledge of how to really care for it. By a miracle you were able to heal it. You thought You healed it. You Aren’t special.

Soon you find out that weird creature is magical you were ecstatic! It could grant you anything you desired! Anything. Lucky you! L̶u̶c̶k̶y̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶!̶ At a cost though. You have to become a magical girl..? You were hesitant. You’ve seen what has happened to Tim on a quite brutal mission. You weren’t cut out for it, for the fighting, for the pain. You are weak. You Aren’t Special.

So when an older girl (a year older), who is a billion times smarter than you (at least in your books), tells you that you should join them. Join her. You would be saving the world from those evil witches! You won’t have to think much about getting hurt with the powers you’ll get. Her words echoing in your head as you stare at the magical cat, the one who could grant your every desire.

You Aren’t Special.

But you could be.

Author’s note: I’m stepping back from my mouthwashing stuff for a while. I’ll finish my one draft on it, but then I’m probably not gonna write for it for a bit. The mouthwashing fandom really made it hard to like mouthwashing. I will be opening up request for this though! Or any other yandere batfam stuff. I might make this into a series but that depends if you guys like it!

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 4!

oh have i got some good ones for you this week! enjoy <3

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading!

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

and i'm not good at winning fights anymore | spaceprincessem/@spaceprincessem | 24k | T

five times Buck needs to feel Eddie's heartbeat and the one time Eddie needs to feel his. this is one of my absolute favourites, it was a reread this week and wow did it hit the spot once more. genuinely a masterpiece, cannot recommend this enough!

baby, say you'll always keep me | hattalove/@hattalove | 8.3k | T

the one in which joking about being married to your best friend is all fun and games, right up until you realize that you're not laughing. soft and sweet and a little silly, the buddie fic trifecta <3 all here in one fic!!

cause i'm tired of sleeping alone | rarakiplin (gmontys)/@hoediaz | 14.5k | T

five (ish) times eddie and buck go on dates with other people, and one time they go on a date with each other. oh this is so FUN i love mutual pining and jealousy and firefam meddling!! so good <3

didn't think you meant it | EtoileGarden | 33.5k | E

“Y’know,” he said. Shrugged again. “That last call? I kind of thought I’d have that by now.” “What,” Eddie raised his eyebrows at him. “A roof collapsing on you?” Buck grunted, elbowed Eddie. Lightly, because he did appreciate the humour in Eddie’s voice. “No,” he said. “Just - married.” i love love love the combination of pining and angst and comedy in this!! it's such a good time all around. another reread, and i'm glad i picked this up again!

i could spend the whole day just gettin' by | rowan_wood/@transboybuckley | 4.5k | GA

“I’m sick,” Buck said, eyes closed, when he could sense Eddie reached the loft. softest loveliest fic <3 i'm such a sucker for these two taking care of each other when they're ill, and this hits the spot so perfectly!

if i get burned, at least we were electrified | kaistinlove/@kaistinlove | 9.9k | E

Out of all the bad decisions Eddie has ever made. This one takes the cake. What did he think would happen when he's watching porn in broad daylight at the kitchen table? listen listen okay. buck's TATTOO. no i won't specify further, just read the fic. the TATTOO. trust me on this one. hot and fun and just so so good!!

if you leave the light on | cloudydaisies | 27.9k | GA

the check engine light comes on in Buck's Jeep, Eddie volunteers to fix it and carpool with him in the meantime, and it all breaks down from there, literally and metaphorically. such a delight of a fic <3 i love how this one nails not only the buddie dynamic, but the firefam as a whole!!

my heart will lead me there soon | ColorfulThoughts/@miscellaneouscolorfulthoughts | 7.4k | GA

Buck is pining for his best friend and copes with a new hobby. Who knew fish would bring them together? mutual pining, they are just too blind to see that is my new favourite tag combination <3 the hurt/comfort hurts and comforts so well!!

never known comfort like laying next to you | thelikesofus/@thelikesofus | 2.6k | GA

A long shift ends with a quiet pizza and movie night within the walls of the Diaz house followed by a quiet confession beneath Eddie’s duvet. this was another reread - quite a few of those this week - and wow does it continue to hit so hard <3 literally all of my favourite tags are right there!! i love soft domestic fluff, and this delivers exactly that!!

the evan buckley matchmaking agency | mmtion/@mmtions | 28.6k | M

Buck tries to set up Eddie. It goes well for absolutely no-one involved. (a 5+1 fic) the best oblivious buck ever!! this fic has such lovely characterisation of all the characters <3

the worm vs the universe | lightyears/@bisexualbellamyblake | 6.9k | T

Adriana moves to LA. It would be great, except that Buck starts dating her. adriana!! i love her so much!! the fact that we know so little about the diaz sisters in canon is wild to me tbh, but until proven wrong, i will just assume that adriana is exactly like this <3

slide it in, right to the top | oklahoma/@chippingmill | 4.3k | E

After Buck shows up at Eddie's door with a six pack, Eddie's mind begins to wonder. A bottle of tequila gives him the courage to ask for something he wasn't aware he's been wanting. this is hot and fun and so good and just so very them <3 i love scenarios like this for buddie, and this one is just perfect!!

vanilla disaster, lemon dream | BlueAzalea/@attack-of-the-blue-penguins | 39.8k | T

Eddie leans on his friends, shaves his mustache, goes to therapy, becomes besties with Maddie, admits he’s in love with his best friend, and learns to ask for what he wants. such a glorious glorious eddiemaddie friendship!! lovely introspective fic, an instant bookmark <3

wake up, boy, you're far from home | Daisies_and_Briars/@cal-daisies-and-briars | 23.8k | E

Eddie is miserable in El Paso, having seemingly made things worse. Buck is miserable in Los Angeles, without him. When Buck agrees to go home to Hershey for the holidays, everything implodes. oh and implode it does... such a fascinating look at the buckley and diaz families (i loved madney here!!) and at buddie themselves, of course. such a brilliant fic!!

when the tequila runs out | Artemis_Unbound/@artemisthehuntress | 5k | T

Drunk Buck is an octopus, Eddie is a pushover, and cuddles are had by all. soft and funny and just the perfect nighttime read <3 this might come last alphabetically, but it was the first fic i read this week, and what a delightful start it was!

[comflexxed]

june watched hans leave for the kitchen, feeling the absence of his hand in his own almost immediately. it was silly, he thought, how something so small could leave such an impression, but he didn’t mind the ache it left behind. instead, he let himself sink further into the moment, sunny’s small frame leaning against him now, her trust and ease wrapping around him like an invisible thread binding them all together.

he glanced down at her, the way her little hand reached absentmindedly for another snack, her eyes were glued to the movie but her presence still so fully present. the corners of his mouth lifted into a soft smile, and for a second, he just let himself feel it.

as hans returned with the hot chocolate, june’s eyes followed him, the gentle clink of the mugs anchoring him back to the moment. when hans handed him the cup, their fingers brushed briefly, and june felt that familiar current again, subtle but electric in its quietness. he held the cup with both hands, his smile soft but full of meaning. “i don’t know,” he said after a moment, glancing at the marshmallows bobbing in the steaming liquid. “i think this might be a pretty close second to the lollipop.”

taking a small sip, the warmth spread through him instantly, chasing away any lingering chill from the snowstorm outside. he looked at hans, his expression open and sincere, and found himself speaking before he could second-guess himself, “i don’t think i’ve ever had a night like this. not just the hot chocolate or the snow — way more than that. it’s... the feeling. the way everything just fits together.”

he set the mug down carefully on the table and shifted slightly to face hans. there was a bit of hesitation on his features as he searched for the right words, the ones that would convey how much this all meant without overwhelming the moment. “when i’m here, it’s like the rest of the world fades away. like nothing else matters. it’s... everything.” he said finally, his smile returning, hand reaching out instinctively to brush against hans’, his fingers tracing the lines of the other’s palm before settling back into place.

june leaned back into the couch, the presence of the two near comforting. and as the snow continued to fall outside, he thought to himself that if he could freeze any moment in time, it would be this one. because it was real, and that was all he ever needed.

sunny’s giggle gave hans a glimpse into her plans for the snacks if june hadn’t pointed them out, and it made him smile in that way that settled deep within him, much much more than just a curve of his lips but rather a feeling of contentment in what he had surrounding him at the moment. 

“right. let’s open one snack at a time, we don’t want any tummyaches,” he said with a knowing look at sunny. he didn’t want to let go of june’s hand just yet, and so he used his free hand to reach for the remote, starting one of the movies sunny had picked for their plans. she found her spot with the opened bag of snacks in her lap, leaning on hans like a cat who had found a cozy spot.

having her so near, and june still holding his hand, his thumb brushing over the back of his hand sending a current through him—it all felt so reassuring, so calming in its domesticity. “this is nice,” hans found himself whispering, wishing he could capture the moment but resolved to keep it in his memories instead. 

as the movie continued, the windows behind the tv showing the snow starting to pile up on trees, the light giving way to the cold evening, hans could only describe what he felt as peace. the kind of peace that could never be broken. the kind that found the cracks and crevices inside hans’ heart and filled them with warmth, promising never to be emptied again. 

a scene from the movie made hans stir from his position, realizing something. “i forgot the hot chocolate. i’ll be right back,” he whispered in the softest tone he could manage, his hand slowly breaking away from june, giving him an apologetic look. as he got up, sunny shifted to lean on june in his absence, the sight tugging at hans' heartstrings. he knew he’d remember that moment too, as he filled three cups of warm beverage, how his whole life was right there on the couch, waiting for his return. 

he added some marshmallows to the drinks before making his way to the couch slowly, balancing the two mugs with a smaller one he laid on the table within sunny’s reach. the two shifted easily to make room for him again, and he knew that’s how they would always be from now on, making room, holding space for each other like a true family. as the snowstorm raged outside, he handed june his cup, a smile on his face as he kept the littlest distance as possible. “it’s not as good a gift as sunny’s lollipop, but it should keep you warm,” he said, his heart and his lips both full of affection. 

[flattocatto]

Viktor Modern!AU uni headcanons

ohhh hes in my head i have so many thoughts i have so much to say about him. you guys just let me cook. ok. okay thanks. please reblog like whatever im new here LOL

warnings/key takeaways: mention of recreational drug use, freshman/sophomore year of uni, lots of studying, goofy meet cute, oblivious nerd viktor, both of you live on campus in dorms (same building), GENDER NEUTRAL (use of ‘you’, no specific pronouns)

HE SMOKES WEED

IDGAF HE SMOKES WEED

not like some crazy stuff. no. he smokes weed ti not feel PAIN. yeah you heard me. he smokes shit w high CBD content. doesn’t smoke it for the high, smokes it to feel better

think he would have it medically and everything

ohhh uni viktor would be the only fucker allowed to smoke in his dorm because if his leg got bad how could he go outside huh?? he didn’t share this news (of him being allowed to smoke indoors) but people knew since he’d have a window cracked open all the time. not fooling anyone

on this note i feel like he would only smoke if he absolutely needed to. yk how people go “i can quit anytime!” but never do? he’s the kind of guy to say that but MEAN IT. he just prefers his joints over painkillers because he finds they work faster

ok enough weed talk. he’s getting his masters in biomedical engineering. its obvious you guys ive seen this everywhere.

he wants to make people better prosthetics. he also got a degree in prosthetics and orthotics techs but it was only a 2 year so its ‘just a paper’ as he says

he studies hardcore. its surprising he even makes friends (sorry viktor) but he saw a lot of potential in jayce as a student from people watching. like in canon au :D!

on that note, biggest people watcher. its actually kind of how he got his friends. extroverts pick up introverts from introvert daycare (the corner of the room)

relationship headcanons

if you guys were to meet, it would be one of those silly meetcute things.

hear me out. you book a study room with your friends to study for exams, but none of them show. shame. one got sick, the other had to go home to see their parents or something. all in all, you were DITCHED by your homies

now. someone coordinating the rooms messed up. viktor had that room booked the SAME time you did! gasp! he just likes the space of the rooms to properly spread out his work.

anyway you were already in the room and he shows up. and just stands there. awkwardly. standing man emoji.

instead of apologizing, he STANDS HIS MFING GROUND. “i have this room booked for three hours.”

“thats crazy because ME TOO.”

you go back and forth, before you both realize the confirmation email you got was from the same person or whatever. who had booked the room for you two. not two separate rooms.

after viktor makes a small mumble of “of course”, you offer to let him stay anyway. and explain that you originally had friends going over but they dipped.

its exam season, you aren’t leaving and you aren’t gonna kick him out! thats so cruel!!!

at the end you end up exchanging numbers. and find out you’re in the same dormitory building!!!

he invites you to study with him in a study room next time, to ‘prevent the coordinator from messing up again’ — he just likes your presence

bing bang boom friends. occasionally one of you begins to break silence, asking silly questions about futures and families and holidays. conversation is limited, you are both locked in to studying most of the time

unfortunately YOU are the one to ask him out. viktor is literally just comfortable with your presence and too in his head to think you’d ever LIKE him romantically.

you take him to a museum. yeah. the local one had a free day for students. you’re also 100% chill with sitting whenever he looked uncomfortable. even if he denied needing rest, his face did that little scrunch thing and you just knew

after that you went to the uni again, to the dining hall. and he insisted on giving you a meal off of his meal plan. he said he ‘barely uses them all anyway,’ and forces you to take it. even if it kind of wasn’t allowed. he just lied to the clerk and said he was going to take it home.

very sweet if him, breaking RULES?

thats like the only rule he breaks for you

no, he won’t let you sleep in his dorm

no, he won’t sleep in YOUR dorm either

no, he won’t sneak out past curfew

(unless ur dying)

there was a time you texted him ‘help’ at midnight and he made his way all the way to your dorm very quietly.

turns out you had burnt popcorn. and it tasted horrible and you were honestly stressed to the point of tears. he thought you had gotten hurt. he proceeded to lecture you on appropriate texts to send at midnight past curfew. for like an hour.

glorious ovulation i need to smoke with him.

[trainsinanime]

Trains in Miraculous Ladybug - The Season 6 Tram

Part 1: The Metro Train

Part 2: The Metro Station

Part 3: Startrain

Part 4: The Gare du Nord

Part 5: The Bus

It's a new season, and we got a new art style, new trains, buses, cars, villains and anxieties in the world of Miraculous Ladybug! Mostly trains, of course!

At the end of season 6, the right person got elected mayor, which immediately transformed Paris into a wonderland of walkable urbanity and plentiful urban transit, even more so than before. That's literally canon. As part of that, the city has gotten trams. A lot of them. And they're weird. Time to restart this series of posts that I thought I'd finished long ago!

This will only focus on the trams we see, because there's just one episode out yet, "The Illustrhator". This will contain spoilers for what happens to the trams there. There is also a new bus that we see very briefly, but I'm hoping other episodes will tell us more about that.

The Vehicle

The trams we see are single four-axle vehicles. Yes, four axles, we do get to count them.

The design looks like they're individual small wheels rather than connected axles, which is a common design that has its advantages and its drawbacks. The floor tram is entirely at one level, seemingly about 30-40 cm above rail height.

We do get to see its interior as well. Nice big windows, different seating layouts, a big wheelchair area, and readers for Navigo RFID tickets at all doors. And, interestingly, fold-down seats, which are a feature on older Paris metro rolling stock.

We get a tiny hint of the inside of the cab as well. According to the display, we're going forward, and we're on line T3A towards Porte De Vincennes. And we're going 70 km/h.

There is actually a real-life Paris line T3A that does terminate at Porte De Vincennes (where you can change for the T3B), and I want to talk more about that, but before we can go there I need to talk about the rear of the train first. It has an open platform!

The rear platform

Don't worry about it being raised in the air here, that's just because the tram is currently falling down because the bridge is collapsing.

But don't worry, that is not a supervillain thing, the bridge just did that on its own, that's perfectly fine…

…right? The characters treat it like it's perfectly fine that this bridge just partially collapses without any supernatural interference, but, uhm, I have concerns. Questions even. Frankly I'm far more worried about that than about any supervillains. Alya and Nino later interview the mayor, and they completely ignore that a city bridge collapsed while a tram was going over it.

Sorry, I keep getting distracted. The rear of the tram has an open platform, which looks silly, is silly, is completely unrealistic, and I love it! See, while I am not aware of any trams like that, unless you count partially open ones like the San Francisco Cable Cars, but those are not quite the same.

However, there is a precedent for this platform, because Paris has a long history of city buses with such platforms. A good example is the Renault TN series

Picture from Wikimedia Commons, taken in 1950 by Sven Goliath, published by the Stockholm Transport Museum Commons

These were mostly a thing in the 1930s, but then got brought back in limited numbers in the 1960s after a Saviem SC10 had an accident that destroyed most of its rear, and RATP decided to be funny while rebuilding it. Later Saviem built these busses in series.

Picture from Wikimedia Commons, Tumblr won't let me link to the actual page there but it's on the Wikipedia article, taken by Sauvabus (bus historical association), published under CC-BY 4.0 international

All buses since then have put their engine at the rear, which has a lot of benefits, but also means it's right where this platform would go, so this has fallen out of fashion. Today you can only experience it when the one private transport museum near Paris has its monthly opening day, which is something I really need to visit one of these days. Here's a video showing the experience:

So there is precedent for this rear platform. Does it serve any purpose? Not really. Is it fun? Absolutely! And that's all it was on the Saviem SC10 as well, really. I love this platform. It's historic, it's quirky, it's fun, it's great.

The show definitely aims for a retro-futurist vibe now, seen e.g. in cars, like this modern take on the Citroën DS:

This modern take on this 60s and 70s legendary classic is what the modern DS brand should do, instead of their array of generic boring SUVs. Anyway, I'm not going to go too far into that, if I start talking about the cars in Miraculous Ladybug I'll never stop (yo is that a modern Peugeot 504? They literally modernised Aphrodite from Only Murders in the Building!). But I will say that this detail matches nicely.

The Infrastructure

Look at that station! Gorgeous! The designers of this show have created a tram stop in the style of the famous Guimard metro entrances, with their beautiful Art Nouveau design. That's amazing. I wish real tram stops in Paris look like that.

As for the tram stop itself, it's a low floor island platform with walkways to the sides, which matches modern standards for new tram stops worldwide. The track has gras planted on it, which is also common and popular, as it helps absorb noise, water, heat and pollution and it just looks nice. Yes, side platforms are more common, but this is still what a modern urban light rail network can and should look like. The only thing unrealistic about it is how pretty it is.

It should be noted that there's no overhead lines here, so the trains are powered by batteries, probably. That, or hydrogen, but a hydrogen tram would be a supremely bad idea, nobody would ever build something like that…

…except for Hyundai for some reason.

God that thing annoys me by its very existence. Hydrogen is expensive and will remain expensive for the next few decades, and this is what you're spending it on? A tram!? Trams should run with overhead wires. That's the good thing about a tram, you know where it's going to be, so you can put a wire there to give it power, and then you don't have to worry about batteries or hydrogen storage or whatever…

Sorry, I got distracted. Anyway, no overhead lines is realistic, and if they ever say, "it's a hydrogen tram" in future episodes, that'll be realistic too, even if it shouldn't be.

Instead let's look at this!

Closer…

Yeah! They finally fixed the metro map! The old one was an unholy mess of lines that didn't match anything (which I complained about before), but this one clearly has the Seine flowing through Paris as it should, with the island in the middle. The transport lines on it don't seem to match anything I can recognise, neither Metro nor RER, but let's just assume they are the new tram lines that happen to go this way.

Compared to the real thing

Real-life Paris abandoned trams in the 1930s already, being a negative trend-setter there. It didn't help that trams were limited to lower top speeds than buses were at the time. However, since the 1990s, trams have made a huge comeback in the Paris region.

(Aside: Note that I say the Paris region. There's only really one tram line in Paris itself (plus a few stops from the other ones). Where Berlin or London absorbed most of their suburbs at some point in the 20th century, Paris didn't, so the actual Paris part of the Paris region is surprisingly small. That's why Paris has both far fewer and way more inhabitants than e.g. Berlin, depending on what you count.)

Anyway, the tram lines in Paris mostly serve the suburbs, providing tangential connections from one suburb to the next so you don't have to take the metro or RER into the city centre, change at fucking Châtelet-Les Halles, and ride back out again. A unique feature of the the tram network is that each line is separate, with its own tracks and maintenance facilities, and at times very different technologies used. Most of the tram lines don't connect to other tram lines at all, each line is just out there doing its own thing. And since they're out in the suburbs, as a tourist you're unlikely to ever see one if you don't go looking for it.

The exception to that is the T3, divided into T3A and T3B, which runs in a 3/4 circle around Paris along the outer boulevards. The final quarter is where rich NIMBYs live, so it'll be a while until the circle gets closed, I fear.

This actual T3 is run with long bi-directional vehicles with no open platform anywhere in sight, and pleasant but considerably more boring stations. It does have green track (meaning with grass) in many places, though, and it has overhead wires.

In Paris, the trams are used as very long buses (with some overlap with really tiny metros) in underserved areas. Serving areas outside the city core is really the main thrust of Paris transit development at the moment, with a 200 km metro extension, the Grand Paris Express, being built exclusively to better connect the suburbs. This mega project is one of the coolest things happening in public transport anywhere in the world at the moment. The trams augment this.

I do actually think that some trams in Paris's city centre could make sense, to replace the busier bus routes. And there are definitely thoughts about that, but with all the money going towards doubling the size of the Metro, I don't think we'll see that very soon.

The verdict

I like that tram. I don't think it's what Paris would actually have, a longer articulated bidirectional model without a rear platform would make more sense, but I love the quirkiness of it. This season is off to a good start.

[sheepispink]

Stuck in a never ending loop except it’s Simon whose never dreams, plagued constantly for one night with images of you.

you dream of him his reaction to your dreams

Lucid dreams are amazing, some seeing them as an interesting phenomenon whilst others yearn for the chance to be able to live through their greatest desires. Ghost has the ability to lucid dream, except he only found out today, and it seems it only works for today too.

Regardless of that, he hates it.

Punches are being thrown at him, and he dodges them each and every time, each one accompanied by a frustrated huff. Though those aren't his, they’re yours. “Ghost— just let me-!” You try again, reaching another fist out, which he grabs in his palm, and you can only stand breathless. “Like I'd ever give you the chance.” You’re adorable, the way you have to keep pushing your hair back so you don't blind yourself, or the way you pant and breathe so heavily. You let it get to you way too much—why would you ever be able to best a soldier as strong as he is?

“It’s not fair!” You frown petulantly and take the defensive stance this time. He throws his fist first, except you don't catch it, your body flailing backwards onto the mat. Somehow there’s blood everywhere, over your torso and your stomach and your arms, and you’re grasping at yourself. All of a sudden, you’re in a battlefield, bullets whistling overhead as Ghost’s hands press down onto your stomach. He didn’t understand, couldn't understand what was happening. “No- no- stay with me.” He huffs, grabbing the medical supplies out of your vest and hurrying to try and bandage you up. Your breaths are laboured, and he’s angry, so angry, how did this happen? Why is this happening to you?

“No— dammit, don't die on me! You can't!” He’s panicking now, hurrying to patch you up, but the blood keeps spilling, staining his clothes a sickly crimson that smells strongly of copper. “No, I need yo-“

Before he can say any further, your breaths stop, and he reaches out and tries to grab what’s left of you before you join the black void surrounding you.

Again, here he is in another situation, another place. He’s been at this for hours. No matter what dream he’s taken to, no matter what scenario he tries to muster up—even the two of you being the last on Earth—something always stops him from saying those three words. One time a zombie even attacked him. Another time you were the one to turn on him, a gun in your hand and a bullet to his chest.

He’s blinked, and everything is normal, in fact, you’re both in the mess hall, and he feels guilty; he doesn't even know why. You’re there giggling as you eat your food, telling one of your stupid stories whilst you wolf down whatever menial meal they have on offer today. But he feels bad— you keep living without it; you live without ever hearing the truth that lives in his heart and in his bones. “And then Jason and I kissed under the mistletoe. Can you believe it?”

You laugh again, but he hates it. Why does heat burn on your cheeks when you talk about him? Who even is he?

“Jason?” He practically growls it, and some stupid, faceless soldier appears, that detail somehow escaping Ghost’s rationale. The figure approaches you, slipping its arms around your neck, and you laugh and giggle, eyes filled with adoration. Who the hell was this idiot? Why did he think he could touch you?

“Yeah, my boyfriend, silly.” Now he’s pissed. Why would you go off and get a boyfriend without even telling him? Ghost stands suddenly, the table screeching against the floor before he grabs your wrist, pulling you out of the mess hall, and of course your stupid “boyfriend” doesnt even try to fight for you. “You can't date him.” He huffs, finally letting go just to cross his arms firmly over his chest and glare daggers at you.

“What, why not? I thought you’d like him..”

You frown, you do that stupid frown you know he likes so much, and he groans, fighting the urge to pinch your cheeks and knock some sense into you.

“Why? Because i want—“

The words die in his throat as the ground crumbles beneath his own two feet and he falls; you scream after him, not understanding where he’s gone.

Now he’s just furious; it feels like he’s run through a thousand situations, and despite living in his own head, he has absolutely zero control over everything. So he lets himself be carried through this stupid black void again. His teeth are clenched, and his fists are too, just wanting to be rid of this stupid cycle that eats at his heart in a way nothing has ever before in his life. Why do you even consume him so much? He’s pretty sure he’s nothing like the romance novels women read nowadays, nor a good man many expect to wed. He’s nothing, and yet you are his everything.

This time it’s a slower exposition, bright light above shining down so harshly that he’s sure he’s reached the sun this time. In fact, it jolts something in him, a little bit of hope. Is this it? Has he finally awakened from this cycle of nightmares? Is he free?

“Ghost..? Can you hear me?”

Damnit. He can recognise that stupidly calming voice anywhere.

“Shut up.”

He grovels out, his eyes finally adjusting to the surroundings enough to see your face hovering a bit away from where he lays. He supposes he’s on a hospital bed of some sort, just another stupid scenario where a plane will hit him when he tries to speak to you. “What?” You blink in confusion, and he hates it, grabbing your hand firmly with his as he tries to push himself up. Something inside him stops, though, like his nerves have been fried from the inside out—everything weirdly numb and nonsensical. But instead of him growing confused, it only fuels his anger and frustration, making him pull his head up towards you and the small amount of his shoulders he can shift upwards. “I said shut up.”

This time you fall silent, a worried look on your face, and he’s happy that you’ve actually damn listened to him for once. Unfortunately it doesn't last long.

“You really shouldn't move much— I’ll go get the nurse okay?”

Your other hand has clasped over his as well, rubbing his knuckles as you use your soothing words on him. It makes his eyes droop, and something inside him wants to listen to you, to let the anger dissipate and let his body melt into the comfy mattress beneath him. Though, he knows he can't stand another one of these dreams, another one of you torturing him like this.

“No.” You’re already trying to run away; he doesn't need a damn nurse, he needs—

“I need you. Not some bloody nurse or doctor— I want you and I need you. Here. So don't you dare go.” His voice is low, hand squeezing yours as much as he can to brace for the inevitable, eyes squeezing shut too—What will happen this time? Will a train ram through the wall and kill both of you? How about a giant dinosaur plucking him right off his hospital bed, or maybe you’ll just blow away like dust in the air?

Your hand is warm in his still, but you’re silent, and when he finally peeks his eyes open at you again, you’re staring at him in shock— your hand is squeezing his just as tight as he is trying to hold onto you. He’s not gone, and you’re both still here, and all he can feel is pure relief knowing that this is finally all over. He can close his eyes, and when he wakes from this dream, maybe he’ll even tell you in real life just in case he gets dragged into this hell hole again.

His chest sinks, that is until a small snicker echoes out not too far away, and then another and a muffled snort. He has to painfully crane his head towards the source only to see the rest of his team standing there, even his own Captain with a knowing smirk on his lips.

What he hadn't quite known was that he had woken the moment he felt the hospital bed beneath him, and the actual reason for all of this was the strong pain meds he’d been induced with. A bullet had found its way pretty deep into his shoulder, and he had taken quite a fall before that had even occured. So, he was hooked up with anaesthetic, any remaining debris taken carefully out of his body, and left to recover on the hospital bed. You had come to visit, of course, since they said the anaesthetic should’ve worn off and he could use a familiar face to make sure he didn't do anything stupid when waking. Of course you went up to soothe him when he eventually started shifting, Soap standing on the other side of the bed, but none of you had known his vision would be so clouded.

When he had woken, he looked like he had been dragged from a deep sleep, haze in his eyes as he glanced absentmindedly around at the ceiling. Not to mention practically every word he had said had been slurred and jumbled together, only his last ones so forceful that, despite his voice being so hoarse, you had all understood perfectly.

Now his team laughed, stepping up to properly greet him at his bedside all while grinning like fools. “Shut up..” He had slurred out, more concerned about how he was going to explain the reason for all of what just happened and, more so, apologise to you for, well.. jumping you with that information. If someone did that to him, he’d be more than a little freaked out.

Fortunately, you didn't seem to mind his drugged confession, and that night when everyone else had left to return to their quarters, you gave him your silly grin and insisted on curling beneath the blankets beside him.

He tries his best not to fall asleep; he really does, and you try to tell all the stories of what he’s missed. It’s too late, though; his eyes droop and his head smushes into the soft pillows as he finally succumbs to the meds again. Thankfully, his mind is a lot emptier this time, something that’s obvious by the stillness of his body that he draped over you subconsciously.

[killa-cookie]

Temperance . The 6th

Beasts x Beast ! Reader

Cussing , Violent themes

Edited because I made spelling mistakes.

✦ "Have you ever heard of the 6th beast, the greatest of the beasts, the one who made balance, the one who kept those in a straight line to the most purest of futures... TEMPERANCE

- Their self-disciplined behavior kept every cookie in their place, even when the other uncorrupted beasts had gone out of control. Legend states that they had resisted corruption due to their self discipline and balanced nature, and is now somewhere, resting on earthbread.

- The witches had begged Temperance to go out and fight for the nation, but Temperance refused. The nation did need their own consequences to their arrogant actions. No matter how much they tried, Temperance never budged.

- Temperance once did try to fight off the corruption of the beasts. But inevitably failed due to being outnumbered, they had barely escaped the temptations. "

" Waiitt— so Temperance could be anywhere on earthbread right now!? "

–Gingerbrave interrupted Pure Vanilla's story, only to be met with a glare from wizard cookie.

——— THE DAY OF CALAMITY

Terror was everywhere, fires spreading all out, screeches of pain. Your environment was surrounded by calamity and...unbalance.

You were weakened, your dough crumbling by the second. And worst of all, your comrades have fallen into corruption, into sin. You were also— outnumbered.

" Cmon softiieeee just join us, give in to temptationnnn—" Shadow Milk hummed at your pathetic state.

" plus— We would LOVEEE to have you here!!"

"NEVER WILL I GIVE INTO— *cough SIN. "

You practically yelled at Shadow— no..Blueberry Milk, he was taken aback to be honest. You had never yelled at them like that, more importantly him.

"Friend, it is best to join us rather than resist."

Mystic flour cookie spoke softly, her head tilted down your crouched figure.

" You're already crumbling— HAHA! I don't think you would want us to turn you into ashes now, sweets? "

These weren't your friends anymore, they were BEASTS.

`I have no choice. ` you thought, your breath hitching as all of those beasts stared down at you.

` this is my last resort. `

With all of the power you had harnessed from them being distracted by your position on the ground, a gust of strong wind surrounded you like a shield.

"AGH WHAT THE FUCK—" burning spice screeched as his eyes were shut closed with leaves that surrounded the wind, gaining some laughter from Shadow milk.

" ...... " Silent salt watches as the huge gusts of wind carried even trees around it.

BANG

The shield then exploded with all that harnessed wind, pushing the beasts back. You were gone, no trace of you left.

"They... Escaped? " Eternal sugar cookie muttered in surprise, but she expected as much from the virtue of Temperance.

" Well, as much as I am angered by their escape... I feel glad that they are at least alive. "

Mystic flour proclaimed, she didn't want you to turn into crumbs yet.

"Well chop chop comrades! We must find them."

Shadow milk hovered off the ground, a grin of excitement across his face.

"Agreed." —all the other beasts spoke in agreement.

- but before they could even begin searching, the witches had punished them greatly for bringing mass destruction, and possibly almost crumbling one of their greatest creations.

- but The Virtue Of Temperance could be anywhere right now, and to be honest... It would be my greatest honor to meet them in person

—

"Wait- they could be anywhere right now!? Even in front of us!? "

"Now gingerbrave, that's a possibility but still silly. There's no chance that they're with us right now, no one here could even be THE virtue of Temperance. Right ______? "

You stared at them both in silence, Pure Vanilla's staff looking at you eagerly.

"Right..... ______? " Wizard cookie repeated, but more in an astonished tone. He did find it weird that you were always fully cloaked, never showing your face. Kind of like Healer cookie when he was actually pure... Vanilla..

"....." You only let out a hum, sweating and shaking a little. Clearly nervous...

"_______? Do you have something to... Tell us? "

"Well.... About that... " you lifted up your cloak a bit, revealing your soul jam that was found in the crook of your neck. ( kind of like shadow milks but a little on the side. )

"N-NO WAY!"

[hxlxnaaa]

hiiiii, i love your fics soososososo much

im a uni student for art and i was wondering if you could make a fic for rafayel comforting reader on art block ? i think he would be really sweeet about it.

thank u :3

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: when faced with the frustrations regarding a lack of creativity and ideas, rafayel is quick to help you come up with a solution, and without realizing, becomes the solution himself.

★ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫: rafayel

★ 𝐜𝐰/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: first person pov, rafayel being proud of his gf, just really sweet, references to his anecdote 'addictive pain' (just mc taking a few art classes)

★ 𝐰𝐜: 1.5k

★ 𝐚/𝐧: i'm so sorry this took so long!! this is such a cute concept and tysm for the request, rafayel would fs be so sweet n nice ab his cutie struggling w art block. i hope you like it :,)

Frustration was creeping up through my throat, strangling the air out of me. Art was supposed to be my escape, but I had hit a literal wall. With balancing work and a social life, I had hardly found time to dedicate to my first love, and now it seemed as if all creativity had left my mind in an instant.

Tossing the sketchbook across the room that only held scribbles and scratches, I puffed out my cheeks, pressing my fists into the couch.

‘You’re better than this,’ I thought, ‘art is your passion.’

I picked up my phone, dialing Rafayel's number. It would be helpful to take a break, as I had been sitting around for hours crumpling up paper after paper, not a fruitful idea in sight. While I of course admired him as a person, I also looked up to him as an artist, even if I was often too shy to show my own talents to him.

“Hey cutie,” Rafayel's sweet voice came over the line, “whats up?”

“What’re you doing?” I hoped he wasn’t busy, cause I was about 30 seconds away from intruding into his house.

“Just working on this painting Thomas is on me about, why? Thinking about me?”

“Do you care if I come over?”

“That’s a silly question, I’ll see you when you get here.”

Click.

I rolled my eyes, ‘Yeah. Thanks.’

-

Sprawled out on his couch, I watched Rafayel drag his paintbrush across the canvas with little effort. I was jealous of how natural it all came to him, reminiscing on a time I was able to convey everything I pleased with that much grace, able to create anything with ease. Now my talent just sat in a corner, covered in dust, and I wasn’t even sure how to use it anymore.

“Raf.” I sat up, throwing one of the brushes lying around at his back.

He hummed a response, not bothering to turn around to look at me.

“When you run out of ideas, get art block per say, what do you do?”

“Sit in the bathtub, you know this.” Rafayel nodded his head towards the empty tub lying in the center of the room. “Yeah, but,” I walked up behind him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, “what about it brings you ideas?”

He shrugs, placing a kiss on my forearm draped loosely around him, “The water always brings me ideas. It’s easier coming up with things in a place where you’re comfortable.” Rafayel pays me a grin, “That’s why I come up with my best works when you’re around.”

“If you had to give advice to someone struggling with a lack of creativity, where would you tell them to start?” I stared longingly at the painting he was working on, craving the urge I once knew, the urge to create.

“Is that someone you?”

I flick his head, “If it was, would the advice change?”

He thinks for a moment, “If it were anyone else, I’d tell them to get a book of art prompts or something.” Rafayel cranes his head back to look at me, “You? I’d tell you to paint something you love.”

“Something I love?”

“Yeah, like food or a wanderer, I dunno. Your passions lie in what you love, so creativity for you will start there.”

Something I love.

-

I sat surrounded by old sketches and paintings I had made and kept throughout the years, and thought about what Rafayel said.

“Your passions lie in what you love, so creativity for you will start there.”

There were connections between all the pieces, and that connection was that they were of all the things I loved at some point or another. My favorite flower, the stray cat I had rescued growing up, Gran and Caleb, cherry blossoms when they first bloom; things that brought me joy and warmed my heart.

‘Okay,’ I thought to myself, tracing my fingers over all the papers, ‘easy enough. Just draw something I love.’

The sketchbook in front of me sat blank, just like my mind.

Something I love, something I love, something I love…

It started with a jawline, a mess of hair, wild eyes; then the sketch turned into an idea, and I was grabbing my watercolor paper and paint.

Heather purple hair, kaleidoscope eyes, fair skin adorned with carefully placed freckles and moles as if an angel had kissed him themself. His smile, I needed to capture his smile. His rosy cheeks.

I finished the painting, and grabbed another paper. His home, I needed to paint his home. The canvases that littered his space, the bathtub, the statues and vases, the tall windows that showed the sea outside.

Another paper, another paper, another paper.

The brush glided across the page as if unstoppable, using the same precision I used to fight wanderers, the trained eye, fast reflexes and grace. His hands, him painting, his laugh, everything I had memorized about him over time turned into the art that I had been waiting to spill from my mind.

Something I love.

Rafayel.

-

“Did you ever find that creative spark you were looking for?”

I turned around from cooking to look at Rafayel, who was standing at the island of my kitchen watching me work. His pretty purple hair was messed up from me earlier picking paint out of it, and his shirt loosely unbuttoned at the collar. With asking the question, his eyes glittered mischievously.

Rafayel himself was not the painter, he was the art.

“Yeah, I suppose I did.” I shrugged, going back to fixing dinner.

“I didn’t know you liked to do art,” He maneuvered his way next to me, poking my side, “why didn’t you tell me?”

Liked? No, art was something I adored. It was my security, an outlet. Even when everything was going wrong, my life in shambles, I always had the ability and opportunity to create. It was stability, it was love, my life and passion. I just needed to find it again.

I poked Rafayel back, “It was never something I thought I needed to share with you, plus I had gotten away from it for a while. Lost my spark.”

“Now I want to see!” Rafayel groaned, pouting, “Are you any good?”

“I took a few classes in university for fun, but not nearly as good as you.”

He went still for a second, “Art is subjective...So please show me?”

“Go into my room and my recent stuff should be in the folder sitting on my desk,” I pointed my spoon in his face, “but no messing around in there, you look at the folder and get out.”

“Yes ma’am.”

With that he descended down the hallway, and I heard the soft creak of my door opening. For a few minutes, the only sound in the apartment was the quiet sizzle of the food in the pan.

Then, it was too quiet for too long.

“Rafayel, you better not be in there snooping!” I shouted, only to get no response. A few more seconds passed by before I called out to him again, “Raf?”

“Why are you a hunter?”

I jumped, startled by his sudden appearance behind me. He was clutching the pieces I had done of him, looking down at them and back at me with awe and adoration. His fingers danced gently over the paper, analyzing every detail.

“What do you mean?” I frowned, his question catching me off guard.

“These are…I don’t even have words. They’re amazing.” Rafayel continued to stare at the watercolor paintings in his hands, flipping through them carefully.

A soft laugh left my lips, “You just like them cause they’re of you.” The compliment didn’t fall on deaf ears however, and my cheeks turned pink with his praise. For one of the greatest painters in our era to think my work is ‘amazing’? Yeah, that felt nice.

Rafayel smirked, “Well, yes. I think that adds to it.” He laid out all of the papers across the island, “I just don’t understand why you didn’t pursue this, why only take a few classes in university instead of doing it full time. You have a real talent…”

“That's a big compliment coming from the Rafayel.”

“You could do as well as me if you put this out there.” He waved one of the pieces in my face, before quickly pulling away, “No, actually, I want all of these. I’m going to hang them up when I get home.”

“You gonna pay for them?” I crossed my arms, trying to act tough. Grinning, Rafayel wrapped an arm around my shoulder and waved his hand around as if gesturing for me to see the world, “See? You’ve already got that art business mindset down, I can see the vision for your future from here.”

He looked down at me with a sweet, sincere glint in his eyes, “But really, I’m glad you found that creativity you were looking for. I would hate for you to abandon something like this.”

“It was your help,” I put my head on his chest, “you told me to draw something I love.”

Rafayel pinched my cheek, “Well I’ll always be willing to be your muse, cutie.”

(divider by cafekitsune)

[kallietell]

POV: Your Feeder Forces You to Admit How Fat You're Getting

Hey babe, are you almost ready to go? We’re about to be…oh shit. Oh my god.

What do we have here?

Look at you. Just look at yourself. Poor little fat girl thought she could squeeze into the clothes that fit her before she became such a greedy, insatiable glutton. Before she finally gave in to those sick secret desires she always had and started letting herself indulge. You promised it was just a little bit, but this doesn't look like a little bit. This looks like a pile of lard who still thinks she can cram her bulging rolls into jeans that stopped fitting 40 pounds ago. 

Did you actually think those jeans would fit? I mean, look at the way you’re jiggling just trying to work them up your thighs, did you actually think there was a chance they'd button over all that gut? That swollen, wobbling, overfed gut. You’re getting so fat. All your greed is so obvious, all over your body. It's always obvious. How much bigger you’re getting, how tight your clothes are, how much you eat every day. You just eat and eat and eat until you’re gonna pop, don’t you? But you think you can hide it. You think you can cover it all up with those too-small clothes that are straining to keep all that lard at bay. 

Have you noticed that? Have you noticed how you still dress like you can hide what you are? You can't hide, piggy. Not from me, and not from anyone. And you especially can't hide behind clothes this small. 

Let me see, stand up. 

You fat pig. 

Look at the way your love handles bulge over the waistband of your panties. Those panties are so tight too, there's really nothing you own that fits you, huh? 

No? 

You disagree? How can you disagree when I'm standing in front of you watching you get out of breath just from trying to get your jeans on. Look at how much your body jiggles with each movement. I can't believe you actually let yourself go like this. I can't believe you let your desires turn you into a silly, mindless little farm animal getting fattened up for the slaughter.

I may have introduced you to all this, but I didn't do this to you. I just wanted you a little chubby. You’re the one that stuffed her face like a greedy hippo every day until you’re fat enough to crack a chair. Fat enough to blow out the seams of whatever you’re trying to force over all that swollen blubber. 

No, no, don't stop trying to get those pants up. I wanna watch the show. The spectacle. 

That's what you’ve turned yourself into, huh baby? A spectacle. A fatty, swollen mess that’s too big to fly under the radar. A sideshow freak that nobody can look away from. People are amazed. Horrified too, but genuinely amazed. How you made yourself so fat so quickly, how you could possibly think waddling outside in clothes a few pounds away from ripping off your body was a good idea. 

You know what the funny thing is? They think you know just how far gone you are. They think you know how fat you’ve made yourself. They assume there's no way you could be oblivious to just how wide you’ve gotten, just how far that belly protrudes out and how much that lower roll jiggles as it pokes out of the bottom on your t-shirts. 

You used to dress so cute before all this. You were always in those adorable tights with the designs and those little shorts skirts, you had an actual sense of style. Now you just squeeze your growing body into whatever mismatched sweatpants and t-shirts can actually accommodate all the weight you’ve put on. It's like you’ve completely given up on living a normal life and instead dedicated yourself fully to blowing up into an unrecognizable pig. That's what everyone thinks anyway. And you’re just the naive, dumb little thing who thinks her lackluster disguise is still working. Who thinks that no one can see just how tight everything is getting, who thinks no one notices when she has to unbutton her pants after shoving her face full in public. 

You’re in denial. 

You’re in denial about how fat you got. How can you be in denial when I know you feel all that heavy blubber hanging off your body every day? How can you be in denial when you eat triple the amount you used to? When you get stares every time you’re in a restaurant because of how much of a pig you’ve made of yourself? How can you be in denial when you can’t even see your toes anymore? When you have to suck in that flabby, wobbling mound of a belly and lay on your back just to have a chance of fitting into a pair of jeans?

It's almost funny. How much of a food-addicted pig do you have to be for your denial to outweigh your fat ass? 

No no, don't sit down. Keep struggling and jiggling for me, keep trying. 

I know you’re tired. But this is your consequence. 

This is what you deserve for eating yourself into the size of a fucking house. You porky pig. I bet you’re hungry right now, huh? I bet you’re thinking about stuffing your face even while I tease you for getting so big. I bet you’re thinking about what you’re gonna eat when this is all over. 

What? 

Did I hit a nerve? Am I right? Does all of this just make you wanna eat and eat and eat until you can't move? 

Of course it does. Everything does. 

All that denial isn't good for you. It's just gonna make you get bigger. And like I said, nobody knows that you’re refusing to acknowledge how much weight you’ve put on. Nobody knows that you still see yourself as a thin, fit girl, that you actually think the clothes you force onto your overfed body fit you well enough to get by. They think you’re a greedy, sloppy fatass who can't control herself. They think you’re just a gluttonous pig that can't stop putting it away, that you’re more concerned with your next meal than your health. And they're not wrong. 

Are they? 

Don’t just nod, say it out loud. Say they aren't wrong. Say you’ve become a greedy pig too dumb to think about anything but her next meal. 

You don't wanna say it? 

But baby, I can see it. I see it all over you, I see it whenever you waddle into a room. You’re getting so heavy. Those thighs are getting so thick and swollen and your arms just keep getting flabbier, it's like every part of your body has been inflated with lard. That belly pushes out further and further every day and you just let it. You don't even try anymore, all you ever do is eat. 

I wanna get you on the scale. I wanna see how hot and red your face gets when I force you to push all that belly back with your tubby little hands and read the number out loud. Denial will get pretty tricky then, won’t it? It won't be so easy to pretend that you’re just bloated or that you’ve just put on a few. It won’t be so easy to avoid looking into the mirror to see the way your waistband digs into your rolls of fat and leaves angry red lines across your spherical gut. 

It won’t be so easy to keep eating until you can’t breathe every night when you actually have to admit what you’ve done to yourself. 

Nice try, love. It is what you’ve done. Trying to blame me for the fact that you’ve blimped yourself into a pile of blubber waddling around in clothes so tight you look like a stuffed sausage doesn’t change the facts. I may have started this, but you’re the one who can’t stop. You’re the one who eats until they can’t get off the couch every night, you're the one who took every feeding and stuffing further than I did. You’re the one who was secretly stuffing your face night after night when I went to sleep. 

Yea. 

I bet you thought I didn't know about that. 

I bet you thought you were actually doing a good job of hiding what a whale you were becoming. 

You’d come back to bed at three in the morning with a gut so bloated you couldn't help but moan, and you think I had no idea? Every night I could hear you gorging yourself and burping non stop. Just smacking and slapping that gut to force out burp after burp just so you can have enough room to shove down more takeout. 

I watched you a couple times, you know. You’re so loud I could already hear the whole thing, so I thought, why not? You would've been so humiliated to know how much of a pig you made of yourself. I know you eat nonstop, but when you’re in front of people you have at least a hint of decorum, a modicum of adherence to table manners. You stuff your face, but at least you’re a normal human being. Not when you’re alone. When you’re alone, you turn into a literal pig. A porky little pig feasting on slop. 

You’re the fattest piggy on the farm, aren't you? 

Aren't you baby? 

Say it. Tell me what a fat piggy you are. 

That's right. 

Watching you was almost kinda disturbing. You were completely insatiable. It was like you were in a trance, just cramming more and more food down your throat by the fistful. You’ve turned into an addict. 

We're gonna have to sign you up for Overeaters Anonymous, won’t we? After we get you some more clothes. That would be fun. Making you stand up in front of everyone and admit how quickly you got so big. Making you recount all your meals for the previous day with the calorie counts included so everyone can know that you’re at least a pound fatter than you were the day before. 

Even in a room of piggies so fat they need rehab, you’d still be the biggest, jiggliest, greediest piggy there. You’d make the other fatties feel better about themselves. They’d think.......

*I hope you enjoyed this snippet of my latest weight gain POV! For the full 3,000 word story or the full audio version of this story you can check out my Patreon! I have a ton of tiers for whatever you may be looking for, and you can find weight gain stories, weight gain series, weight gain POVs, weight gain audios, personalized weight gain commissions, and more:) Thanks so much for reading!!*

patreon.com/KallieTell

[seungcheorry]

"chan, you idiot!", seungkwan exclaimed, his hand itching to slap his youngest member. "how can you be so clueless all the time?"

and, once again, chan had that look on his face, as if he didn't know shit - and to be honest, he didn't.

"what did i do this time?"

"they aren't saying they are bored because they think you're not interestant or annoying", seungkwan rolled his eyes. "although you are very much annoying."

chan sighed, covering his eyes with his hand. of course he wouldn't get out of that conversation without being insulted at least once, even though he know his hyung didn't actually mean it.

he went to his hyungs, sharing this one thing that has been bothering him; you.

oh, don't get me wrong, chan liked you so much. he felt attracted to you the moment he laid eyes on you, and was over the moon when he found out you also liked him. however, everytime the two of you hang out, you always look a bit... annoyed. bored. disappointed. like you were expecting something else.

"then what? what should i do to entertain them?"

"chan-ah, don't be silly", seungcheol laughed when jeonghan stopped seungkwan from getting up to hit chan. "they look like that because they want you to act on your feelings."

"act on my feelings?", there surely was lots of '???' over chan's head.

"oh my god...", seungkwan groaned.

"you like them, they like you. they're expecting you do do something about that", a calm seungcheol explained, shrugging.

and those words stayed with chan for the whole time he was away from you, counting the days to see you again and try to test his hyung's theory.

so now he's sitting right beside you on his couch. your head is resting on a cushion, once again a bored expression on your face as you don't pay much attenttion to the movie that is playing on his tv. chan takes a look at you from the corner of his eye, mirroring your expression and sighing a little too loud; but it's okay, it's all part of his plan.

"what?", you ask him.

"um, nothing...", he let his body melt on the couch, to look even more bored. "this movie is shitty."

"it is, i stopped watching like ten minutes ago."

with a sigh too, you sit up straight to look around the room. chan is watching your every move, getting ready to say his next words out loud.

"yeah, i feel you. i'm really bored right now."

"hm, me too..."

and it's comical, actually, how you turn to look at chan and how his eyes slightly shine when the two of you say together:

"wanna kiss?"

there it is. chan smiles, not only because his plan has half worked (and definitely not because his hyungs were right), but because you thought the same thing he did, and maybe you too were just waiting for him to be as bored as you to act on your wishes.

"thought you would never ask", you chuckle, already throwing yourself at chan, smacking your lips against his.

he welcomes you with passion, holding your waist and helping your adjust beside him while his lips works wonderful on yours, parting them just enough so he can slip his tongue into your mouth.

it's great, and it makes chan's chest burn with that feeling he hasn't felt in so long - he really likes you; he's just on the edge to actually fall in love with you.

and god, he hopes you're right beside him on that edge too.

a/n: inspired by this moment right here.

[undercvrfan444]

Overstimulated. All day long you’d been working tirelessly against stupid low grade curses. Sure Gojo, Itadori, Megumi and Nobara had been by your side to alleviate the stress of fighting alone, but you were so sensitive to loud noises after being exposed all day.

Once you’d finally gotten back to your dorm it was impossible to stop you from locking yourself away.

A nice hot shower eased some of the tension between your shoulder blades, however even the running water was enough to keep you on edge. The loud tapping noise from droplets crashing into the tile below you sounded like nails on a chalk board.

Your curtains were drawn tight to close off any lingering sunlight as the ball of light settled below the skyline. Dusk turned to night while you lay limply on your bed; tucked into the soft and cool fabric.

A knock at the door startled you a bit due to not expecting anyone to come by. “Y/n?” The muffled voice mumble through the door.

Groggily rising from your sheets your socked feet padded over to the door. Cracking it ever so slightly to shield your eyes from the hall light. “Gojo-Sensai?” Rubbing your eyes softly you yawn. “Is something wrong?”

The tone in your voice betrayed your respectful intentions. A whine trickled through your words and it wasn’t difficult to understand your hesitant reaction.

“No nothing’s wrong. You look like hell though,” Gojo grinned while teasing. You shot him a weak glare and began to close your door when his hand reached out to hold it open.

“Oh come on kid. You wouldn’t really close the door on your sensei, would you?” A fake pout overtook the older man’s face while looking down at you.

“I would and definitely could right now! Is there a reason you’re here this late?” The soft gentle voice you normally spoke with was fleeting quickly. Gojo was taken aback by your tone and the way you bit at him. His hand flew to his heart mockingly.

“Oh come on! You don’t have to be so mean! I was just coming to check on you after today. You seemed tense, unusually so.” The intentions behind Gojo coming to check on you were pure in their entirety.

A small pang of guilt erupted in the back of your head but you pushed it aside for now. A sigh pulled from your lips and you let go of your door to allow the gap to widen.

Before speaking you step further into your room and motion for Gojo to come in. “I’m sorry sir, please forgive me. It’s just…” Your teeth grazed the soft skin of your bottom lip.

Unsure of how to tell Gojo of your current state without sounding silly. “There was a lot going on and I needed some alone time.” Gojo steps into your room and closes the door with a quiet click, enveloping you and him in the dark. The only light illuminating Gojo’s body was a small lamp on your bedside table. He looked softer here. The signature mischievous smile wiped from his face and instead replaced with a concerned expression. The crystal white color of his hair popped in the low light, highlighting how silky smooth it seemed. Every bone in your body screamed for you to reach out and sink your hands into it, but you knew it would be inappropriate.

“No apologies needed. We all worked hard today. I never thought Itadori would shut up about his arms hurting and wanting someone to massage them. Thankfully he passed out as soon as we got back!” A small snicker left Gojo and it warmed your heart to hear it.

He’d always been kind to you. More so than he was to the others so it was hard to ignore the silly feeling in your heart when he was near. How you’d look for him in crowds of people, laugh at his jokes no matter how dumb they were, or even just stand closer to him when he was beside you.

It would be ignorant to say he didn’t do the same! Sure Gojo loved to tease his students, but when he teased you he was relentless. His words seemed to exist just to bring the pretty red tint to your cheeks and make you shy. On the other hand, the man would practically bite someone’s head off if they so much as threw a stupid joke your direction. Being angered that another man tried to make her shy or flustered. It was wrong of him to favor you! After all you are his student and someone who’s quite a bit younger than him. While the age gap is legal he couldn’t help but feel a little silly when he thought about how much older he was. He quickly dismissed that thought though.

You moved to sit on your bed, slinging the blanket over your legs while listening to the man speak. He eyed you the entire time you moved. Thank God you were turned around or else you would have caught him shamelessly raking his eyes across your exposed legs.

“Are you the only one still up?” You ask innocently while he looked down at you.

“Yeah, the others were so tired I knew they’d all go their separate ways when we arrived.” His hands slid into his slacks nonchalantly while he pushed his blindfold off of his face. A low groan erupted from within his chest at the feeling of his skin being exposed to cool air finally. Your heart stuttered and skipped a beat when you heard the noises he made.

“Did I wake you up?”

The softness in Gojo’s voice rang loud in your ears. There was a sly undertone you couldn’t ignore but chose not to point out.

“Well…no, not exactly. I wasn’t quite asleep but I was definitely close to passing out.” A smile graced your lips to offer a sign of contempt and show you were upset for his visit.

A tense silence lulled over the two of you. Gojo blankly stared at you, not conveying anything. It was difficult to hold his gaze while the sky blue color of his irises sent chills down your spine. His feet barely made any noise before you felt his hand reach under your chin, his thumb stroking absently at the side of your jaw.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt you.” He said gently.

“Y-you didn’t, I promise.” Skin tingled and felt hot in the places he touched. Without thinking you leaned into his hand and closed your eyes, small puffs of breaths exiting you.

“Will you stay with me?” You ask suddenly yet as tender as could be. Your voice washed over him like a wave of fresh air and he couldn’t tell you no. He’d be an idiot to ever think about neglecting you when you asked him so sweetly.

He wasted no time in responding. “You know I will.” Was all that came from him before you were moving closer to the wall and he was slipping out of his shoes and sliding his shirt off. You knew he wouldn’t be comfortable in his slacks but it seemed to be the furthest thing from his mind.

His body caused the bed to dip in accommodation of his weight. Your small bed making the two of you impossibly close, even so he still reached for your arm and gently pulled you up to his chest. Your head rested on one of his pecs while your body nestled tightly into his side. All it took was a few strokes of his fingers in your hair for you to be worn down and jelly on him. While your heart thundered in your chest at the proximity of the two of you, a sickeningly sweet smile spread over your lips. A fit of relaxed giggles left your body and you could see Gojo’s confused but intrigued smile.

“What are you laughing about silly girl?” He whispered softly. He placed a small kiss to your hairline as he brushed loose strands from your face.

“Nothing! It’s just strange for me to see you like..this.”

“Like what?”

“So relaxed.”

Gojo stops for a moments before planting one small chaste kiss to your lips.

“What do you mean by that?” He asked curiously, brows furrowed ever so slightly.

A flush crept up to your ears when you thought about exposing yourself for how much you paid attention to him. “Uhm, I just mean…anytime I see you it’s like there’s a weight placed on your back that you can’t seem to shake off. I know you are the adult in the situation, but I wish there was something more I could do to help you. As silly as this sounds; you bring me a peace no one else can and I wish to do the same for you admittedly.” Between the new position with your chin pressed into his sternum and all the words that seemed to spill out of your mouth you found your head being tucked into his chest in an attempt to escape the embarrassment.

A loud chuckle emitted from below you and you felt his arms wrap around the small of your waist to hold you steady. “You really seem to have me figured out, don’t you?”

He settled against your pillows once more. “I can assure you sweet girl that you do the same for me.” His fingers kneed into the supple skin on your lower back. “I may look like i’m stressed all the time but the moment i’m close to you that weight seems to vanish. Forgive me if I lay it on a little thick with the teasing, I can’t help how much I enjoy seeing you get red when I’m close. It’s refreshing.”

You swallow thickly as his hands travel all over your skin. Your lower back, hips, the curve of your waist, nothing seemed to be out of reach for him.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you lay on his chest and listen to the steady thrum of his heart. “I like when you tease me.” you admit quietly

The two of you talked quietly for what felt like forever before you eventually drifted off to sleep. The sound of his velvety voice pulling you to a deep sleep as you knew he’d hold you for as long as you let him. The last thing you remember is him tracing circles on your back while you sheepishly talked about the silly things you’d do to be close to him.

In real Gojo fashion, he teased you about how timid you were. What he hoped you hadn’t felt was his heart pick up and the crimson color of his cheeks.

[ljubimaya]

𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐒 ꫂ ၴႅၴ ft. Baji Keisuke

Eros: romantic love, desire, the God of love

c/w: fluff, suggestive, fem! reader, nicknames (baby, doll, my woman), based on this silly post I made a while ago, heavily selfship coded, established relationship, he is a sap here, proposals/talks of marriage/having children (the latter is very subtle), would have posted earlier up docs didn't eat my draft + my writing capabilities took a nose dive.·°՞(¯□¯)՞°·., not proofread

W/C: 2.5k (this was supposed to be 500 words...)

Baji Keisuke was an impulsive man. From waking you up at odd hours just to drive around on his bike, to involving you in his pyromanic car demolitions, your year long friendship was filled with chaos - the good kind, you'd argue. There was never a dull moment with your then best friend, now boyfriend. Boyfriend, what an odd way to call the man you have secretly pined over for many years. Too many years, to be honest, yet you never found it in yourself to confront your beloved, thinking he would never reciprocate your feelings. How foolishly wrong you were to think your best friend who you'd watch take other people out on his bike would reciprocate your feelings - or so you thought.

There was no way of telling what was going on in his mind, as Baji seemed to have perfected his pokerface over the years of being just your friend. Truly, you didn't even think he would fall for you the way you did for him, until Keisuke confessed to you. It wasn't obvious to anyone, but Baji Keisuke was a lover boy at heart; though he concealed his yearning to hold your hand and taste your lips very well. So he continued to dance on the line between friendship and courtship, unwilling to risk your year-long friendship over something he wasn't entirely sure you wanted back. Sure, he was better at hiding his true feelings than you by a long shot - as evident by your refusal to hold his gaze at every tender moment he shared with you. These were the times the impulsive ravenette fought himself to not grab your face with his large hand and crash his lips against yours, keen on keeping the illusion of platonic love.

Alas, what is meant to happen will always find a way, and Keisuke confessed his feelings to you after many painful years of mutual pining.

Your relationship with the impulsive man progressed at bullet speed. Not even five months have passed since you started dating, yet you and Keisuke have already renovated and moved into a small apartment not too far away from your work place - which didn't seem so weird to you at all. How could it be weird for you to move in with the man you love when you kissed him on the day of officially dating and shared the bed with him on the second? You and the ravenette were deaf to the concerns of friends and family advising you to “slow down” and “take your time”, too high of each other's love to pull the brakes on the speeding car that was your relationship. Truthfully, you didn't care if you crashed and burned as long as it was with him, and he shared the same sentiment as you.

“My ride or die” Keisuke whispered lowly against your lips as he pinned you down on your shared bed. His hands roamed all over your body, leaving no inch untouched and unattended. Your lover's calloused fingers danced over your hot skin, fueling your endless hunger for more; more of his kisses, more of his touch, more of him. A shiver ran down your spine at the deep rasp of his voice “Yes, your ride or die” you whispered breathlessly as your hands fist at his shirt, pulling and tugging on it in hopes of him abandoning the annoying piece of fabric.

A dark chuckle left his lips upon hearing your immediate confirmation. Your eagerness amused him; the desperate and needy look on your face was perhaps his second favorite view: your half lidded eyes gazing up at him, lips swollen from the endless unslaught of his kisses and bites, your make up smudged and your hair messy. Yet, despite your clear need for him, you looked at him as if he hung the stars himself. One look into your eyes, and the ravenette saw nothing but pure adoration and love no matter what - when you wake up, when you fight, when you're mad at him, when you're screaming at him, the spark of love always remained in your eyes at all times and outshone any other emotions you were feeling.

“You know” Keisuke’s hand traveled to your face, cupping your cheek as his thumb softly glitter over your glistening lips “You bring out the sap in me” Your eyes crinkle as a smile grew on your lips “Yeah, I know that already” you cheekily replied, kissing his thumb. Your boyfriend let out a deep chuckle at your reply “Of course you know that. You know everything about me, dontcha?”

“It'd be a shame if I didn't know my boyfriend well” you hummed as you gazed up at him. He looked so good on top of you - a soft smirk playing on his lips, a light flush on his cheeks and his hair cascading down, almost like curtains down on his sides. Keisuke was by far the most handsome man you knew, both inside and out. You loved many things - if not everything - about your other half. From his undying loyalty to his nurturing care towards animals, he couldn't be any more perfect to you.

“Would be a damn shame, right baby?” he started, leaning down to give your forehead a chaste kiss “I can't believe I got the sweetest doll laying in my bed. I gotta be the luckiest bastard ever” His lips traveled from your forehead to your nose, planting small kisses on his wake before stopping right above your lips.

“I can't believe I have you all to myself “ he whispered roughly as his lips brushed against yours ever so slightly, controlling the urge to smash his mouth against yours “After all these years of pining, yearning, holding back, I can finally call you mine” he moves to kiss your cheek ever so tenderly, his lips leaving behind a hot trail of kisses on his journey to your neck.

“You know what I love most about you?” Keisuke queried, his husky voice muffled from the little kisses the ravenette lovingly placed on your neck. A whimper left your lips at the gentle touch of his lips. There was no denying that your boyfriend was a wild and rough man who found enjoyment in marking you up with his bite marks - after all the whole world should know you were already spoken for. The unusual tenderness from your boyfriend seemed to melt every possible thought or input you had; you were left speechless, enjoying the softer side Keisuke showed you.

Usually, he'd be smug about the effect he had on you, but not this time. Instead, he kept on kissing along your neck to your collar bones “I love that you love me with your whole being” He hoarsely whispered against your skin “You love me like it's the easiest damn thing in the world when I know that's not the case” he leaves open mouthed kisses on your hot body, his teeth graze your soft skin tantalizing slow, careful not to apply too much pressure “You always worry about me, take care of my wounds after fights and endure sleepless nights when I'm dragging you out for some midnight snacks. I'm stubborn and hot headed and hot headed and impulsive, I'm also not the sharpest tool on the shed, yet you love me despite my flaws”

“Kei-” you breathlessly whimpered as he slowly sunk his teeth into your sweet flesh. The ravenette nibbled on your collarbone, delirious from your taste and the sounds of pleasure you made “I'm not done, baby” he muttered gruffly before kissing the bite marks he left on with "I love that I love you so damn much. Being with you taught me that no argument, no problem, no illness, not a single soul could tear me away from you” a shudder ran down your spine at his declaration. Heat spread across your cheeks, burning with the intensity that was the wild inferno of your love for him as he plastered your neck with more delicate kisses.

“You complete me, you bring out the best of me. Every day I wake up next to you is a blessing to me - even when you're drooling all over the pillows and forgot to take off your makeup before going to sleep” A laugh rumbled through his chest as he heard your gasps and giggles.

“Oh, shut up! That was a one time thing!” You tried to defend yourself from his accusation, giggling as you came face to face with the man on top of you. He lifted his face from your neck, a teasing glint in his eyes as he furrowed his brows “My camera roll says otherwise” You could only roll your eyes at him, and smile still playing on your lips as you tried to counter with a witty remark “Taking pics of sleeping people is weird, don't you think?”

“Nah, I'm taking pics of my woman. That's a whole different story” he countered effortlessly and without thinking too long about it before the teasing glint died down, replaced by the look of a love struck man. Truly, if the God of love existed, you'd imagine the tender look on your boyfriend's face being the product of being shot by cupid's arrows - but this wasn't the work of a higher entity commanding the man's feelings, forcing love onto him arbitrarily. Keisuke chose to stay in love with you, and the faintest, but sweetest voice in the back of your mind told you that he'd love you in every lifetime if there was such a thing.

“You have a death grip on my heart, baby” the ravenette continued “You ain't ever gonna get rid of me. I'm in it for life”

“For life?” You chuckled as you put a strand of his long, thick hair behind his ear “If I didn't know any better, I'd think you're proposing to me” you teasingly stated, not having thought through what your reply could trigger within your lover. Normally, you would expect a witty remark back from him, something smug and teasing to keep the playful banter up; instead, you were greeted with silence.

Mentally slapping yourself, you wanted to take your words back as you watched the corners of Keisuke’s mouth fall, the sweet grin turning into a thin line. All of a sudden, the atmosphere turned from tender to serious.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! Panic shot through your body at the sudden change. Did I just ruin our moment? you half wondered half accused yourself as your heart hammered against your ribcage furiously. Despite your relationship with Keisuke progressing at a rapid speed, you haven't brought up marriage yet. Truthfully, there never seemed to be an occasion that would have opened the door for any discussions pertaining to marriage and possibly wanting to have children until now. While you knew a lot of your boyfriend's views and goals, you weren't sure if marriage was in the books for Keisuke.

Swallowing hard, you realized that perhaps this conversation was to be held on another day. You opened your mouth to say something that could soothe the situation, that would serve as damage control, but nothing came to your mind. Thankfully, you didn't need to say anything, as Keisuke took initiative to end the deafening silence between you and him.

“I am” his deep voice rumbled through his chest, dark brown eyes looking into yours with unmatched sincerity and devotion “I know what I want, and I want you for life. I want the good and bad, through sickness and health, through poor and rich, I want you by my side”

It was as if a weight was lifted off your shoulders. Your chest felt lighter and your legs weakened at your boyfriend's declaration of love. Thankfully, you were laying down on your shared bed instead of standing, or else you would have lost your balance and fallen to your knees. Heat spread out all over your body as his words finally fully sunk in - he was serious. He was proposing to you.

“Oh, Kei” you cupped his face ever so tenderly, thumb grazing against his warm cheek as you looked him deeply into his eyes. Your voice was unsteady and your vision got blurry, both from dizziness and the tears that welled up in your eyes. A strange mix of guilt and love fell over you. It was almost laughable how you misread him, because now that he has made his intentions clear, all doubts that lingered in your heart vanished at the snap of a finger. Of course he would want to spend the rest of his life with you, and you knew you wanted the same.

“What do you say, doll? Be my bride?” Keisuke whispered, his voice smooth as silk as the usual gruffness disappeared. The ravenette's voice might have been calm, but the subtle shaking of his body gave his nervousness away.

“Yes” you quietly replied in a shaky, breathy voice “Yes, I do” the answer left your lips a little too fast, almost eager - desperate even - to become fully his.

A grin spread across Keisuke's lips. He ducked his head down, his lips crashing with yours clumsily in a messy but passionate kiss. His lips molded perfectly against yours as if he was made for you to kiss; and you fit inside his arms as if you were made to be held by him. You weren't sure if there was a higher being dictating the fate of every human, but one thing you knew for sure: if you had a soulmate, it had to be Baji Keisuke.

“My little bride to be” he whispered against your lips between searing kisses “My little wifey”

“I'm not your wife yet” you countered, giggling at his eagerness. A deep chuckle escaped your fiancé's lips, a smug grin adorning his handsome face “You will be tomorrow” his thumb grazed across your cheek, wiping away your tears of joy “You know me, I'm not a patient man. You will get pretty tomorrow, and I will get us rings and an officiant”

“Oh? How are you going to do that?”

“Don't worry your pretty little head about it. Let that be my problem, yeah?” he hesitated for a moment as if thinking about something, before he continued “You're fine with this, right? You don't mind us having a wedding so spontaneously?”

“No!” You responded quickly “not at all. I don't care if we make grand plans or none at all, as long as I'll become your wife” upon hearing your reassurance, the ravenette's face softened. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against yours, his nose lightly grazing yours as he peers down on you “Then it's settled, doll. Tomorrow, you will be mine. Till death do us part”

You and your lover laid closely snug to one another throughout your last night as boyfriend and girlfriend, basking in the pure bliss that was your love and restlessly awaiting the next day. You didn't think about you having to rush and buy a cheap dress, or having no grand wedding cake, you didn't even think of how you would explain to your friends and family about your sudden elopement with Keisuke. None of that mattered to you when the man you loved most held you tight at night and promised to love you for eternity.

[sandwitchstories]

Dango and Dragons

Hey hey everyone! Its been far too long since I shared some new Daddy Duty content regularly, so here you go! I give to you all this silly little story about Dad!Sukuna and Mouse

If you prefer to read it on AO3 click here !

WC: 1800+

Summary: To distract the toddler climbing the walls in her father's absence, Reader and Mouse decide to have a picnic. They are pleasantly surprised by the duo's return and a gift Sukuna bought for Mouse (and Uraume).

AN: To anyone new to my Daddy Duty series- Mouse is Sukuna's two year old daughter. Welcome to Mouse's Mini-verse!

Quick note about a couple of terms used in story: Shiroshi = what kites were called durin the Heian era. It translates into basically 'paper bird' Takoge = kite flying festival (along with kite flying they also sometimes included a night parade and kite battles!)

CW: Reader is not described but referred to as Mama, reader is pregnant, there are several suggestive comments made between reader and Sukuna (they are lowkey obsessed with each other- but it's okay- they are married, your honor), family fluff

You smiled as you carried the basket full of food and snacks with one hand as Mouse held onto the other. She was happily singing a song she made up as she went, pausing occasionally to look at something or ask you a question.

Sukuna and Uraume had been gone for several days and Mouse was climbing the walls. The weather was nice and you had no obligations to attend to. It seemed like the perfect day to go for a picnic. 

The two of you had spent the morning making and packing up a basket full of your favorite things, including extras of everything as Mouse had insisted, stating that the other two members of your family could be back at any time and they would probably be hungry too. You smiled and happily agreed. Whatever was not eaten now could be eaten later. Waste not want not!

The two of you had just finished laying out the blanket and setting out little plates of the food when Mouse shot upright and looked towards the horizon. She rushed to the basket and grabbed out a cookie for each hand. You were about to ask her what she was doing when two figures came into view. One a great deal larger and broader than the other. 

Her abilities to sense her father were even more attuned than yours were. You smiled as she got excited. She waited, bouncing back and forth between her feet. She knew the rules. Until Papa said it was okay to come to him, she had to stay by Mama. It was for her safety and she knew that, but she could only muster so much patience at 2 years old. 

“Mama! I think he walking too slow,” Mouse almost growled at you as she squatted down cookies still safely clutched in her tiny hands. “I gonna fix it.”

“And how are you going to fix that?” You asked, amused and curious just what she thought she could do to ‘fix’ the speed at which her father was walking.

“Like this,” she said, standing up. She carefully set the cookies down on the blanket and cupped her hands around her mouth. She proceeded to yell at the top of her lungs, “Faster, Papa! Please and thank you!”

You choked down a laugh, covering your mouth with your hands. “You think he heard you?”

“Don’t seem it,” she pressed her lips together in a frown and called again. “I said FASTER PLEASE AND THANK YOU, PAPA!”

“Why should I?” Sukuna’s voice called back, you could hear the amusement in his tone from where you sat and it made you smile. 

“You taking too long!” She called back.

“Then you come to me, brat!”

She snatched up the cookies and took off running at the speed of light towards him. “I coming, Papa! I bringing cookies, Papa!”

You watched as he handed something to Uraume as Mouse approached and he grabbed her up into his arms. You were impressed with Mouse’s hold on the cookies as her father tossed her laughing form up into the air and caught her. 

You couldn’t hear the exchange from the distance they were still at, but just the sight of the three of them walking towards you was enough to make your heart swell with love. Mouse, Sukuna and Uraume- your beautiful little family. Your everything.

You rose to your feet to greet them as they drew near. Sukuna set Mouse down as Uraume moved to set the things they were holding by the picnic basket. Mouse was happily telling Uraume about all the goodies you had brought with you. Sukuna’s eyes, however, were on you and you alone.

He pulled you closer with an arm around your waist and gave you several soft kisses. “Miss me, precious one?”

“A little,” you teased, cupping his face and kissing him again.

“I missed you a lot, Papa!” Mouse said, plopping down on the blanket and taking a bite of a cookie. She looked at Uraume and said, “I missed you too, Urau-rau. You cook better than Mama.”

You sputtered even though you knew it was the truth. “What was that?”

She turned towards you and gave you a giant smile before saying in a comforting tone, “It okay, Mama. You tried.”

While a part of you wanted to wipe the smirk off Uraume's face, a larger part of you was looking forward to a little alone time with a certain someone’s Papa. You and Mouse both being on Uraume’s good side would make things a lot easier to negotiate. 

“Uraume is a very good cook,” you agreed, sitting down as Sukuna did as well. 

“You just want me to watch her tonight,” Uraume said in a soft tone, shooting you a side glare.

“I do! You know me so well!” You agreed, giving them a wink. “But you are a good cook.”

Mouse started emptying out the basket, personally hand delivering the treats to each person. She grabbed a skewer of dango in either hand before moving to plop down in Sukuna’s lap, leaning her back against him. She grinned up at him and held up one of the skewers. “Want some, Papa?”

“I have my own, brat. Those are yours,” he said, ruffling her hair with a free hand while he smirked down at her. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but you could see by the look in his eyes and the way his fingers combed through her hair just how much he had missed her. How much he loved her. It made you tear up a little. Damn these pregnancy hormones. 

“What brought home, Papa?” Mouse asked, using the dango in one hand to gesture towards the parcels Uraume had set down.

“Why? You think there is something there for you?” He asked, eating one of the cookies Mouse had given him.

“Yes,” she said with a grin. 

“What makes you think you deserve it? Hmm?” he asked, poking her chubby little belly with his finger, making her giggle up at him.

“I been good. Please and thank you, Papa!” 

“Have you though?”

“She has been,” you replied. “She has been a big helper the whole time you were gone.”

“I take good care of Mama, Papa!” she chirped up at him as she finished her snacks in record time. 

“Alright… Uraume, give it to me,” Sukuna instructed, eating another cookie.

Uraume set aside their snacks and grabbed the securely wrapped package and brought it to Sukuna. He used two hands to help Mouse unwrap it. Together they reveal a beautiful, brightly colored shiroshi. The diamond shaped bamboo frame held together a stunning fabric that depicted the image of a red dragon with bright blues and yellows behind it. 

“What this Papa?” Mouse asked.

“It is called a shiroshi. It flies in the sky in the wind,” he explained.

“It windy! We do it now, please and thank you, Papa!” she looked up at him excitedly, her chubby hands laying lovingly on the material.

“I don’t know…” he drawled out.

“Don’t be a tease. Go on and show us your skills, King of Curses,” you teased with a smirk.

“Oh, I’ll show you my skills alright,” he said in a low tone, smirking right back at you.

“With the shiroshi,” you rolled your eyes even as your heart fluttered at his blatant flirting. Still got it!

“Yeah, Papa! Show meeeee!” Mouse said, trying to wiggle out of his hold.

“Uraume, would you do the honors?” Sukuna asked, cocking his head.

Uraume’s eyes got big and they hurried to swallow the food they were chewing. “You want… me to fly it, Master Sukuna?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it. I mean, you are the one who picked it out…” Sukuna shrugged.

“Urau-rau, you pick it for me?” Mouse’s face lit up.

“I merely pointed them out,” Uraume answered. “But if it would please you, Master Sukuna, I will be happy to.”

Sukuna moved the shiroshi so that Mouse scrambled off of his lap. She bolted to Uraume’s side. She hugged their arm, looking up at them with a big, toothy grin. “Thank you, Urau-rau!! Lets go fly it now, please and thank you!”

Uraume sighed and rolled their eyes, feigning annoyance even as their eyes softened just the slightest bit and the smallest smile ghosted on their lips. They moved to stand, taking the large object from Sukuna’s outstretched hand and walking a bit away with Mouse in tow, skippin beside them. 

Sukuna took advantage and moved to sit beside you. He wrapped two arms around you and pulled you close, one large hand holding your shoulder, the other moved lower to splay and rest over your slightly distended belly. The thumbs on both hands immediately began mindlessly tracing a pattern. He kissed the top of your head as you laid it on his broad shoulder. 

You reached over to take one of his other hands, locking your fingers together and bringing them to your lips. You placed a gentle kiss on his knuckles before lowering your hands to rest idly, fingers still locked. 

You smiled as you watched Uraume battling the wind and Mouse before getting the shiroshi flying high in the sky. They held onto the rope, concerned the wind would be too strong for Mouse’s hold. It was an adorable sight to see, and even from here you could see the enjoyment on Uraume’s face.

“During our travels, when Uraume was a child, we came upon a Takoage festival. They have never really asked for anything, you know this about them, but I could see the enjoyment in their eyes as they watched the shiroshi soar above our heads. We stayed for the duration of the festival. The next day I bought them one, and they spent hours… and hours flying it. I threatened to dismantle the damn thing if they didn’t set it down to fulfil their duties and train,” Sukuna recounted to you, a small smile on his face as he watched them.

“Really? Huh,” you said, taking it in and imagining it with a smile on your face. “Admit it… you just wanted to take a turn flying it, huh?”

“If I had wanted to take a turn, I would have take a damn turn,” he grumbled, causing you to chuckle.

“Mama! Papa! Look! We gots a real dragon! It flying! It going WOOOOOOSH!” Mouse called, spreading her arms wide and running in circles around Uraume, imitating a dragon in flight.

“Be careful or it might get you!” you teasingly called out.

“Silly Mama! It not a real dragon, it no eat me!” Mouse’s laughter carried as easily on the wind as the shiroshi flying high above her head.

Sukuna relaxed against the tree behind him, fully at peace. How could he not be? The weather was nice. The snacks were delicious. His beloved was in his arms and his daughter was happily harassing his disciple just a few yards away. Soon there would be another welp causing mayhem alongside their sister. He couldn’t wait.