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ghoulphile · 4 months

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no use cryin' over spilled milk | c.h./the ghoul

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 2.8 k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, frottage, lactation kink, pregnant!reader, fingerfucking, praise kink, breast play, the ghoul calls reader pretty mama, he's a pervert who wants to lend a 'helping' hand ➥ summary | based off this ask; oops being an experiment from vault 4 where you may be the first rad resistant human pregnant with a possibly rad resistant baby, and you come across the ghoul who helps you get to a safe place but then he gets attached with you and the baby 🥺 (this is just me trying to insert a lactation kink somewhere i'm sorry) ➥ notes | uhhhh pls let me know if i missed anything, my brain is dribbling out my ears (its 3:44 am and i have work at 8 am rip) but the parasites persist. i'll do the tag list when i wake up ❤️ masterlist | feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | feedback is always appreciated ❤️

Going topside wasn’t an easy decision.

In fact, bile bitter regret often lingers in the back of your throat - a lump that stifled the air in your lungs.

And while you might’ve been bioengineered to survive better under these harsh wasteland conditions, every time you find yourself in a less than ideal situation, you're catapulted headlong into paralyzing self doubt; alone and rudderless.

No one lives in the vaults - not truly.

Birdie (and the others) warned you of what awaited beyond those lead-lined walls. But you couldn’t abide spending the rest of your life trapped in a cage, albeit a gilded one.

Not anymore.

Oh no, you wanted to feel a real breeze instead of air pumped through the HVAC. Experience the sun baking warm into your skin like fresh bread instead of the artificial heat of the UV lamp used for mandatory light therapy sessions. Complain about the chafe of sand in your shoes and hear the crunch of dirt under foot instead of a hollow clunk of sterile metal.

To witness first hand all the sights, sounds, and smells this world offers.

Only… you didn’t expect it to be this hard.

Nor did you expect to be pregnant when setting off into the great unknown on your own (a definite oversight on your part [you really shouldn’t have had one last hurrah before hitting the road]).

Through trial and error, motion sicknesses that swing into crippling nausea as manic energy - your first taste of true freedom! - dwindled into dragging fatigue, you found a happy medium. None of which would have been possible had it not been for the most unlikely of companions.

Ghouls; who knew, huh?

Sure, you’d heard of them from the rotating door of visitors that found themselves at Vault 4, but you’d never seen them. While you grew up surrounded by visible mutations, seeing the battlefield of his body was off putting; how a person could survive a patina of burns and patchwork slices without unraveling at the seams was beyond you.

And kind of frightening.

But he took it in stride, introducing himself as Ghoul. Refused to divulge anything else of substance no matter how much you poked and prodded. His life pre-bomb was a complete mystery filled with plot holes and unanswered questions (which is exactly what he preferred).

You learned to be comfortable with his meandering conversations, and all the words he spoke that said much of nothing. And what you did glean, you did so through observation alone.

He was alone - had been for a very long time.

He was very old - one of the last of his kind.

And he was, in his own way, very kind - at least by wasteland standards.

“The fuck you doin’?”

Pausing, you stop mid push and hover awkwardly on your hands and knees. The vault suit pulls taut across your hips, pinching behind your knees uncomfortably. Your toes squeak in your shoes, socks thoroughly soaked through with sweat.

It’s been unseasonably hot (or it’s the hormones). Whatever the case, this is the first semi-decent lodging you’ve camped in for weeks, and you’re not about to miss an opportunity to freshen up.

And maybe find a way to soothe the building ache in your tits - flesh swollen tender and nipples rubbed raw.

“I’m just, uh, gonna,” you motion towards the back of the house, the askew bathroom door clinging to its hinges by a corner, “y’know, f-freshen up. See if they don’t still have some water.”

The Ghoul scans you up and down, gimlet-eyed. “S’that so?”

You huff, your knees starting to ache.

Being five months pregnant throws your center of gravity for a loop, the atmosphere weighing extra heavy on your bones. It doesn’t help that the baby’s decided sitting directly on your bladder with a foot tucked under your ribs is the best position.

“Didn’t know I needed permission to take a piss now,” you snipe. Usually, you try to reign in the hormones but the day’s been too long and you’re in pain. Anyone would be a little snippy (right?). “Can I do that on my own or do you need to watch, Mr. Ghoul?”

A faint smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, his gaze glinting from beneath the rim of his hat as he tips his head. “Better watch it, sweetheart,” he says. “Otherwise, I might have’ta wash your mouth out with soap.”

Pushing yourself up with a grunt, you determinedly ignore the raspy chuckle that follows as you waddle towards the bathroom. Cussing him out all the while in your mind.

While he’s been ‘nicer’ today - stopping for extra breaks, even packing it in several hours earlier than usual because he noticed how weary you looked - he’s still an asshole.

The toilet’s gone, the tub’s tipped sideways, the linoleum’s cracked, and closing the door sounds like a pack of howling mole rats but its functional. When you catch your reflection in the spider web fractures of the mirror, you grimace.

The wastes have certainly left their mark on you. Gone is the prim-and-proper vault dweller, replaced by a gremlin of a woman Overseer Benjamin would surely scowl at.

A true ‘surfie’ now.

“Great,” you groan, scrubbing a palm over your face. “Just - ugh!”

You’re caked in grime, a steak of dirt smeared across the bridge of your nose. Mysterious stains darken the blue fabric, the golden stripes of your suit an off-putting grey.

Your hair clumps in greasy chunks. You’re glossy with sweat, and while your curves have plumped up over the last few months, you didn’t realize just how much until now.

The vault suit’s always been tight - now it clings and creases in unflattering places. And there’s nothing you can do about it, unless the Ghoul is willing to spare a sewing kit.

You could let the waist out some…

What the hell am I gonna do if he won’t? There’s no way I’ll fit if this baby gets any bigger. Shit, I look like a fucking sausage. Your hand cradles the side of your stomach, stroking over the bump with a frown. This is all your fault, you little parasite.

“You better be so fucking cute - the cutest goddamn baby in the wasteland. Or I will riot.”

Tugging down the zipper over your breasts is heaven, the swollen flesh spilling out of the parting fabric, no longer compressed. It’s almost enough to make you cry as you struggle to tug the lycra off your shoulders, the fabric putting up a fight.

After some awkward contortions that pull uncomfortably at the muscles of your shoulder blades, you manage to wrangle yourself free.

The temptation to burn the stupid goddamn suit is almost too much to resist, but then you’d really be traipsing around the wasteland in the nude and just… no.

Peeling off your undershirt is another story altogether, the soft cotton feeling like sandpaper as it scrapes over sensitive skin. Your nerves tingle with awareness, bolts of pain shooting through your nipples with every shift.

Quick like a bandaid, you think, taking a steadying inhale.

It’s a miracle you don’t scream.

Tears cling to your lashes, your nose running as you toss the shirt to the side with one hand and cradle your chest with the other. Sure, you’ve had tenderness with your period but this kind of pain? A whole new level.

You almost don’t know what to do with yourself.

How is this fair - aren’t you suffering enough?

Sniffling, you peer down at your tits and gingerly cup them with your palms. Swollen hard and warm to the touch; a heavy weight crushing your ribs.

Do I really have to milk myself like a fucking brahmin? Another bolt of lightning crackles through your nerve endings as if in response. Fine. God, this is embarrassing.

Only any attempt at touching your nipples produces pure agony, shards of glass biting into delicate skin.

No matter how slight your touch, no matter how gentle your fingers - it doesn’t work. Leaves you more distraught and in pain than when you began as inflamed nerve endings crackle and burn.

And when the tears truly start, the dam breaks. It’s not long before they drip down your cheeks in fat rivulets, your breath hitching from you in pathetic little exhales.

Your fist shoves against your mouth in an attempt to smother the sounds, teeth sinking into your knuckle until you leave sore indents.

But you should know better, not only does the Ghoul have heightened senses (he’s taunted you constantly with this fact like the asshole he is), but he’s uncannily perceptive in a very annoying way.

You don’t hear the squeal of the door, but you do sense his presence behind you; the rad warm burn of his body as he stops a scant few inches away. You feel his breath against the nape of your neck, the barest brush of his chest as he inhales.

“You ready ta stop bein’ stubborn?” he hums. “I thought I told you not ta wait s’long.”

Your voice warbles from you, “G’way.” You curl into yourself, shoulders hunching as you hang your head. “Don’t need your help.”

The Ghoul snorts. “Cuz you doin’ so well on your own, huh?”

“I resent that.” You shoot him a weak glare, the animosity ruined by the crumble of your lips. “I really, really do.”

You hate always having to rely on him, so desperate to prove that you can take care of yourself only to have every effort to do so thrown back in your face.

Shit, you hate how right Birdie was, “Honey, you won’t last five minutes on your own. Please stay here with us where it’s safe.”

“Well, maybe so. But pickers can’t be choosers, sweetheart,” he shrugs with a languid roll of the shoulders. “Ain’t no use cryin’ over spilled milk. C’mon, the longer you wait, the worse it’s gon be.”

“I just - you don’t understand…”

He reaches around you to set his hat on the sink, the dwindling light of twilight creeping in through the holes in the roof to bathe him in its bloody light.

He looks like a grotesque demon that clawed its way from the depths of hell. It gets your pulse thudding, electric awareness an unwelcome visitor as it roosts behind your navel.

“I understand plenty. Now, let me.”

Not an offer - not really.

More akin to a demand, one wrapped up pretty like a gift. You’ve been here many times before, and while the Ghoul proffers his help under the guise of not wanting to hear your bitching and moaning, the hungry gleam of his eyes as they rake over your face say otherwise.

If it’s one thing you’ve learned in your travels with him, it’s this: he is entirely self-serving. He offers because he wants to suck on a set of pretty tits. If you happen to cream your panties while he does, well, he counts it as a win-win.

Quid pro quo.

And what you hate more than how utterly correct everyone is about life on the surface, is how needy he makes you. How desperate and dumb and dripping he’s got you by the end, drunk off the flick of his tongue and the rasp of his touch.

Because it’s so hard to be strong in the face of pain when the solution is right there; open-palmed.

“...Fine, just don’t - don’t leave marks this time, okay?”

A slow waking smile creaks across his face, and he says, “I ain’t makin’ any promises, sweetheart.”

Your stomach swoops, and your thighs clench.

Shit.

Scarred lips work over tender flesh as a talented tongue flicks and swirls over the bumps of your areola, the tip digging into your nipple and drawing the swollen nub into a hot mouth. You whimper, arms tossed over the Ghoul’s broad shoulders.

Cold ceramic digs into the base of your spine, your body crowded back against the sink as he plasters himself to your front. Cuts off any escape routes and refuses to let you squirm away from the overwhelming sensations as he suckles.

Heavy palms grope at the plush curves of your hips, fingertips digging into the fat.

His lips pop off your nipple with a sticky smack. “Always taste s’fucking good,” he groans against your sternum. “Got the prettiest set a tits in the wasteland.”

“Hnn! N-Not so hard.”

While you say that, you don’t mean it - not really. Your pussy throbs in time with your heartbeat, clit swollen and aching for friction. Your inner thighs are a mess of slick, your vault suit caught around your knees.

He never touches you below the waist directly (some boundaries still exist between you two), but at this point in your pregnancy, you’re so sensitive a gentle breeze could set you off.

“Heh, ain’t you know lyin’s a sin?” he says.

A scarred cheek drags over the swell of your breast, the rasp of rad burn alighting your nerves. Bolts of desire ricochet down your spine, fizzle like Nuka Cola on your tongue. He presses an open mouth kiss to your nipple, his tongue flicking out to massage the tender bud.

At the taste of your skin, his cock twitches where its grinding against your thigh. You feel him through his ragged pinstripe slacks, his shaft a thick line of heat.

It’s probably the hormones (you refuse to admit its anything else) but just the thought of touching him, of sinking down onto his erection - feeling how fucking good he’d stretch you out and fill you up - makes you dizzy.

You pant, your voice distinctly whiny when you say, “Please, d-do something. It still hurts.”

His grin reminds you of the mongrels roaming the wastelands. “Sh,” he hushes you. “I got you, sweetheart.”

The tips of his fingers brush along the side of your swollen stomach. Your heart flips in your chest, your breath catching as he follows the contours of your body, reaching down to brush over the skin of your mound. This is new, he’s never done this before. It’s simultaneously as arousing as it is terrifying.

“Can smell how wet you are for me,” he says, tone low and gruff. “You gonna be a good girl for me, ain’t you?”

“I-”

Then his mouth is slurping at your tit, his teeth biting down on your nipple gently as those strong fingers dip between your thighs. Blunt nails scratch through your pubic hair, a calloused pad swirling circles around your slippery clit. Your hips jump, your head rolling back between your shoulders as a loud moan rips itself from your throat.

You arch back so far your belly presses against the Ghoul’s, your tits smothering his face.

You think, half deliriously, it’s a good thing he doesn’t have a nose otherwise you might’ve broken it.

“Shit, that’s so - oh, fuck, please, please, please!’

Your legs widen to make room for his hand as yours fly up to grab his biceps, nails biting into the rough leather of his duster.

His tongue flutters across your areola. “C’mon, pretty mama, give it ta me.”

“Oh.” Sparks dance behind your eyes, your knees shaking as the Ghoul strokes over your folds, tests your wetness and the give of your cunt as he plays with your entrance. “Right there,” you gasp. “I’m gonna…”

He grunts, tugging on your nipple with his teeth.

The sharp bite of pain shoots through you, deepens the kindling warmth behind your navel that steadily builds and builds and builds. You feel on the very edge, nerves plucked like the keys of a piano.

So close you can taste it.

Then a tingling starts in the tips of your fingers.

Burns its way up your arms to settle in the weight of your chest, pins and needles pricking across the skin of your tits, lancing through the swollen buds of your nipples.

You tremble, the relief bringing tears to your eyes as tears the heaviness releases in a warm flood, your milk letting down to flow into the Ghoul’s eagerly pulling mouth.

“Fuckin’ finally,” he moans, chasing after the taste by nuzzling into your chest. His cock ruts against you. “Took you’re sweet damn time, didn’t you, darlin’?”

Your head spins, hazy thoughts scattering like confetti.

Endorphins simmer through your veins as you float on a cloud of cotton softness. Reality seems worlds away, your vision blurry as you focus on the points of contact between your bodies. The stretch of his fingers plunging into your pussy to stroke over the front wall.

Mouth slack, your hands creep up the Ghoul’s arms to trace over the sides of his neck, watch the dance of your fingers over his skin. “It feels s’good,” you slur. “Please don’t stop - wanna cum just like this.”

“Heh, wouldn’t dream of it.”

#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #cooper howard smut #the ghoul smut #cooper howard #the ghoul #fallout fanfic

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iatrophilosophos · 4 months

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Therapy enjoyers need to take their own advice and practice some mindfulness and distress tolerance every time an insane person is talking about their own shit. Yall love ur acronyms so let's call this the KILL YOURSELF skill

[K]IND: what KIND of statement is being made? Is it a vent, personal narrative, informative, analysis, shitpost?

[I]NTROSPECTION: why does the statement bother you? Is your reaction actually proportional to what's being said?

[L]ESSON: What do you think this person might have learned about psychiatry that you haven't experienced?

[L]ENIANCE: what axies of socioeconomic privilege might be impacting how the psychiatric establishment treats you as opposed to other patients?

[Y]OUR OWN SHIT: What in your past or present makes you defensive of psychiatry? How might that compare in terms of intensity and impact to the experience being implied or described?

[O]PPRESSION: is this person, perhaps, talking about a form of oppression they experience and are attempting to resist?

[U]SEFULNESS: why do you think this statement is useful for the person making it? How might it be helpful to people different than you, such as people who might feel alone in their negative experiences with psychiatry? In contrast, what use does talking shit provide you or others?

[R]ELEVANCE: be real. Does this statement have anything to do with you, at all?

[S]YSTEMIC: how might this statement challenge authority? With governments funding psychiatric programs and courts ordering psychiatric treatment, where does the actual balance of power lie?

[E]FFECT: Is this statement actually hurting you? Does it, or what it proposes, stand to benefit other people? Could it even be beneficial to YOU in some way? Be creative! Doctors don't actually make the medications they prescribe; if you didn't have a psychiatrist prescribing you Adderall, you could be a lot freer to take the dosage you want when you want it!

[L]EAVE IT ALONE: there are lots of other cool posts on the internet and fun conversations to have.

[F]RAGILITY: are you asking other people to sacrifice their interests for your comfort or periceved sense of safety?

If you get through the whole skill and still wanna add some asinine shit: go ahead and KILL YOURSELF!

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miss-oranje-disco-dancer · 6 months

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nsfw alphabet with leon

A is for aftercare - Leon’s the type to carry you to the bathroom - he insists on not getting a UTI! Also, if you’re wearing makeup, he’ll take it off for you because he knows how much of a chore it can be, but he also knows how much you hate the way it stains your pillowcase.

B is for body part - He cares a lot about his own hands - he always makes sure that his fingernails are clean and trimmed (he’s been known to get a mani-pedi once in a while). This is especially important for a guy who really enjoys fingering you. On your body, this man will go insane for pussy. Truly addicted.

C is for cum - He’s a pretty cautious person so he would be wary of cumming inside you. However, he loves the feeling so much, so he might do it on occasion (maybe birthday sex?) or if you’re trying for a baby. His breeding kink is in a secret compartment of his mind that can be unlocked. You could joke about trying for a baby and you’d both notice that he got a little too into it, and then he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about getting you pregnant.

D is for dirty secret - He’s thought about getting cucked by Chris before… and it doesn’t sound too bad to him… basically, he wants to watch his friend fuck you.

E is for experience - He has a decent amount of experience. We know he’s had at least one sexual encounter with Ada (and I imagine it to have happened multiple times). But, there’s also been some tension with Claire, so I think they could’ve gotten it on, too. (We’re not even going to talk about how real Chreon is because I would write an essay.) I feel like in his younger years, he was probably getting around. We know he had a girlfriend prior to Raccoon City, but after her and Ada both broke his heart, I think he might’ve had a rebound period where he was getting around. (which I think died down when he got a little too deep in the bottle)

F is for favorite position - He likes to be as close to you as possible. Face-to-face or from behind, it doesn’t matter, but I specifically imagine him enjoying having you on your stomach, with a pillow under your hips, and then him on top of you - that way, he could kiss your shoulders and the nape of your neck while he whispers things in your ear (I don’t think he’d say anything too dirty, but I think he’d tell you how gorgeous you look and how good you feel - you’d also get to hear his pretty moans)

G is for goofy (serious or silly during sex)- I think he’ll occasionally crack a joke - he can’t help it, the one-liners are in his nature. Otherwise, I think he’d be too caught up in the moment to joke around.

H is for hair - I would imagine that he gets hairier as he ages, so when he’s younger it might be a smaller patch of hair (also lighter in color), but I think he would heavily trim or shave regardless.

I is for intimacy - Post Raccoon City, he tends to put up walls and is wary of being vulnerable. While I do think he would engage in casual sex (think: asking Shemei out), I don’t think he would be comfortable with full intimacy. But, once you can break past his walls (and once he goes to therapy), he becomes a lot more intimate as he naturally starts to trust you.

J is for jack off - Rookie Leon was jerking off in the RPD bathroom because he saw a random woman who looked hot, like, everyday. But, Damnation/Vendetta Leon can’t even get his dick up.

K is for kink - He loves being edged - and not just in short sessions – you could edge him periodically for days and not let him cum until you say so. He’d be a begging, crying mess (would literally offer to quit his job or buy you anything you want if you let him cum), but he loves the feeling of you being in control and the intense pleasure when you let him cum. You could let him cum in your hand (or even his own) but if you let him cum inside you - first, he wouldn’t last more than 30 seconds, but second, he’d be thanking you mid-orgasm.

L is for location - When he’s younger, I think he’d be somewhat more adventurous because he thinks it’s more convenient and less of a hassle to take someone home with him, so if there’s another option, he’ll take it.

M is for motivation - Rookie Leon would see a MILF walk into the RPD to make a report and he’d get so hard he wouldn’t be able to pay attention, but DI Leon doesn’t get aroused by random people, but would be super turned on when you flirt with him (presuming you’re his s/o). It’d be easy to turn him on if you tried, basically.

N is for no (what he wouldn't do in bed) - He will not let you choke him because it brings back trauma. Also, no weapons.

O is for oral - GIVER. This man will get on his knees and shamelessly beg to eat you out. That is the one thing that does not change with age. Obviously, his experience coupled with enthusiasm makes him phenomenal at it.

P is for pace - It depends. If you’re in a relationship with him and he wants to “make love to you” (I feel like he’d call it that half-jokingly), then he’d want to do it at a slower pace, but if he’s not having “intimate” sex, maybe a one-night stand, he might enjoy a faster pace. Also, if he were pent up with frustration, he’d want to fuck you faster and harder.

Q is for quickie - Sometimes he enjoys them. As he gets older, he’s more wary of having sex in places where he could get caught, so if you pulled him into a supply closet and got on your knees, he’d make it quick. Luckily he’s easy to please.

R is for risk - He wouldn’t do anything physically dangerous, though he seems strong and agile so he could probably do some pretty complex sex positions. Even if you’re not physically flexible (me), he would be able to put you in impressive positions where he’s taking on the hard part. Ex. he could hold you with your legs wrapped around his hips and bounce you up and down while you just cling to him - think about his arms in RE4R or DI.

S is for stamina - RE2R Leon lasts approximately 2 minutes at most (but it’s adorable). I can imagine him cumming from almost no stimulation, like, you just play with him while he’s still got his underwear on, and you can already see a wet spot forming in the fabric. However, his refractory period is probably also 2 minutes, so by the time he pulls himself together post-orgasm, he’s hard again. As Leon gets older he probably gets old man back problems and shit so he can’t keep fucking you forever, but he lasts a lot longer - he makes sure you cum first.

T is for toys - I don’t know that he’d buy any on his own, but if you wanted to bring some into the bedroom he’d be into that. In particular, if you wanted to peg him, you could buy a strap-on and he’d be into that. He’d get very flustered about it at first, but he’d look so cute. Pegging Leon would solve his problems is all I’m saying.

U is for unfair (how much does he tease?)- He doesn’t think he’s a tease, but he is. It’s just that he is obsessed with eating you out, so it doesn’t matter if you’ve already cum, he’s enjoying himself too much to stop voluntarily.

V is for volume - He can hold back his moans if he needs to - I can imagine him fucking you from behind and biting onto your shoulder to shut himself up. However, if you’re fucking him and he’s not the one in control, once you hit that sweet spot inside he’ll let out the most pornographic moan. (if you fuck him and jerk him off at the same time, he’ll cum quickly and will cry when he does).

W is for wild card (random headcanon) - He loves having his hair pulled especially when he’s going down on you. He also loves the feeling of you dragging your nails down his back when things are getting rough. He knows it means he’s fucked you to the point that you’re not thinking straight and you’re just trying to find something to grab onto.

X is for x ray (what's he packin') - It’s average-sized, but pretty. You could tie a bow around that thing because it’s a gift. He’s probably circumcised because he’s American.

Y is for yearning - He tries to keep his personal life in the back of his mind on missions but once he’s in love, he can’t help thinking about you. He carries a polaroid of you when he travels so even if his phone doesn’t work, he can jerk off to you.

Z is for zzz - Leon who hasn’t dealt with his trauma properly probably deals with a lot of nightmares, so he struggles to sleep but DI Leon is the type of guy to fall asleep on the couch with his arms crossed while he’s watching TV, so you bet your ass he’d pass out after a good orgasm.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader

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itstheghostofmypast · 4 months

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Focus

Idol Wooyoung x (F)Reader

Summary: It amazed him how he ended up with a brat, one that had the attention span of a toddler but the love as warm as the sun.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.9K

Est. Read Time: 15 min

Warnings: None

Rating: SFW

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

Banner: @cafekitsune

A/N: Basically inspired by @edenesth being my platonic Woo <3- the urge to procrastinate was real strong last night.

“Put it away.”

Her ears picked up the irritated voice, turning her head she glanced at the man sitting on her bed, glasses on top of his head, chin in palm as he scrolled on his phone. Must’ve been talking to himself, turning back around she went back to doing what she was doing before she was rudely interrupted, eying the shoes, maybe she could get the red ones, they’d match the dress he got her recently, oh no, but then she’d limit the things she could wear them with, oh if she gets a black pair then- “HEY!”

“Don’t you have a final exam tomorrow???”

When did he come all the way here? He was standing right next to her, a hand on his hip, the other holding her phone above her head as he looked at the screen, “Seriously? Are we shopping right now?”

“What~” she whined, trying to reach for her phone but he pulled away, frowning at her before shoving the device in his pocket, “Woo, it's retail therapy!”

“No, it’s a distraction.” He huffed before walking over to her bed, “You told me to make sure you study, and I’ll do exactly that,” he flopped down on the comfortable space, sighing at the familiar scent engulfing his senses, calming him down, who knew his girlfriend had the same attention span as his baby brother, no wonder the two got along so well. Sure, on any other day, he would have been thrilled to see that, but not tonight, no, he had to follow the strict boyfriend code, the one where the guy makes sure his baby girl isn’t distracted and focuses on cramming for her final exam.

Craning her neck back, she pouted at him, only to receive an eye-roll causing her to huff, date an idol they said, it’ll be fun they said- if ‘they’ only knew how this idol who was forcing her to study instead of ‘lollygagging’ around, they’d know how dating an idol is NOT fun at all! With a huff she turned back around, wearing her headphones as she began to write once more. Truth be told she was glad he had taken her phone from her; she knew she would get distracted way too easily, especially when she was stressed and considering right now, she felt like the world was about to explode; even though retail therapy would have helped her calm down, it would have also wasted a great amount of time, the time she could have spent reading and making notes.

He glanced at her going back to work, smiling to himself before looking back at the messages in his group chat, the guys had decided to go out tonight, to eat, and he had too- that is until she had texted him last minute, asking him if he could come cover. He had been avoiding her for a week now, not because he didn’t like her, no, but because he knew she’d be easily distracted by him and would choose to spend time with him rather than studying- even though he knew his girl loved those A’s, she was just silly like that, wanting to conquer the world but also getting distracted by a butterfly. So, when he had received the text, “Hey…can you come over and make sure I study?” He had turned to San and shown him the text, earning a snort from the taller man, who shrugged in response but gave him an assuring pat on the shoulder- good, that means no one would have issues with him suddenly bailing on them.

There was a moment of somewhat irritancy on his drive here, he was somewhat disappointed he was unable to relax with his friends after months of promotion, on the other hand, he was also disappointed in himself for even thinking of choosing downtime over helping out his lover. That irritancy had morphed into guilt when she had opened the door for him, instantly wrapping her arms around him as she hugged him close, thanking him for coming here on such short notice, glad that she could always count on him to be there for her. The guilt turned into a form of penitence when he saw the scattered books, papers, numerous highlighters and pens, along with several mugs (what he assumed was coffee) crammed all over her desk, amid the chaos was her laptop, trying to breathe in the mess. He had sat her down on her chair.

He told her to wait, proceeding to pick up the mugs, running to the kitchen to place them in the sink, running back to sorting the papers and books for her, in order of ‘what do you need next’, stacking the pens and highlighters neatly in a box and removing any other clutter that he could find, before pushing her swivel chair closer to the desk. This act had helped his guilt subside, though when he met her loving gaze, it had completely vanished, especially when she had reached up to press her lips against his cheek, mumbling, “I’m so lucky to have you in my life, Youngie~”

He truly felt like he was fortunate to have her in his life- at least that was what he had felt like two hours ago, with two hours gone she was left with three easy topics, ones she had done a million times, but did that mean that was enough of an excuse for her to get distracted? No. He had come to ensure she covered all topics regardless of their difficulty levels, and like a good, dutiful boyfriend he was going to do- “HEY! ARE YOU SERIOUS!?” He screeched, tossing his phone on the bed as he jumped off it, running to her as she fumbled with the laptop, closing the tab and blabbering out apologies.

“I cannot believe you!” exasperating he slammed his hand on the desk causing her to flinch, as he knelt to look at her, though she only averted her gaze as he huffed, “What’s the excuse this time, huh?”

“I uh…wanted to watch your scenes in the MV.”

“That’s it.” With that he marched out of the room, leaving her confused- oh shit, was he mad at her? She did call him here even though he had plans for the night, great, good-going girl, make sure your boyfriend dumps you tonight, the same boyfriend who took time out of his busy idol life, who chose to sacrifice his recreational time to babysit you because you have some form of attention deficit. Make sure you lose that one man who’s always been there for you-

“Now, if I see you do ANYTHING ELSE, I’ll take away all your devices for a week!” he dictated, entering the room and causing her train of inner turmoil to halt- is that a chair?

Dragging the chair next to hers he sat down and, turning to face her as she moved back a bit, only for him to place his hand on top of her head and gently turn it to the laptop, “I better not see you look away even for a second, you got me?” with that he crossed his arms over his chest and continued to stare at her, like a mama hen watching her chicks- god, this was giving preschool all over again.

“Are you really going to be staring at me the entire time I read?”

“Yes.”

“That’s creepy.”

“No, you wanting to watch me in an MV, rather than turning around to see me on your bed is creepy.”

“You looked cute!”

“GET TO WORK, SLACKER!”

“YES SIR!”

To be honest, it was odd how he was staring at her so intently, but it was also endearing, she felt so loved, so pampered, so spoiled- oh if Hongjoong were to find out about how Wooyoung often got a taste of his own antics, through his loving, adorable girlfriend, he’d probably pay her to do worse. Nonetheless, she had soon gotten used to him burning holes at the side of her head, she hadn’t even realized when he had moved closer, his fingers brushing against her skin causing her to jerk, eying him as she earned a sheepish apology, “Sorry…was trying to keep your hair out of your face.” See, it was little things like these that made her heart swell with joy and admiration, little details that he’d note and little acts of kindness that would spark joys of glee within her.

He was a pervert, God, he was such a pervert. This had all started off to annoy her, but the more he watched her work, the more difficult it became for him, he never knew he was this messed up in the head, he found it hot, he found it extremely hot, to have her so focused on something that was not him, so focused on finishing her work, so focused on making him proud- the thought of this doing it because he asked her to was such a turn on- Wooyoung you need help.

Almost an hour later of watching her, playing with her pens and rearranging her notes, his phone rang and he sprang in joy, though he cleared his throat when she side-eyed him (of course he was glad someone was calling him, he'd been sitting here bored to death for an hour, only because he loved her endlessly), leaning closer he smacked a wet kiss against her warm, soft cheek, ignoring her when she slightly shoved him away.

"I'll be back in a second, be a good girl and don't get distracted."

A faint "I'm always a good girl", caught his ear as he walked out of the room, picking up the call, starting with an "I hate school" only to receive an earful from Hongjoong for 'distracting his own girlfriend' - the NERVE of this man! How dare he accuse him of such blasphemy! He was a good boy, and an even better boyfriend- so much so that he had spent almost 40 minutes arguing with him. Only realised how long it had taken when he ended the call.

Jogging back to the room he turned the corner and gasped- AGAIN!? What- was she sleeping? With a huff he walked over to her, ready to wake her up, hand pausing right above her shoulder when he realised that everything was neatly packed- oh, she had finished. Her laptop was turned off, her notes were stacked aside, her pens were in the case and all the checkpoints on her neon-bright sticky notes were marked off- his girl really did make him proud.

"Hey...let's get you to bed, yeah?" He felt her stir in her sleep, smiling when she refused to move, only helping him when he picked her up, her arms wrapping around his neck even though she was 'asleep'. What a brat! He looked down only to find her snuggling closer to him, she didn't pull away when he laid her down- only grabbed his shirt and tugged him closer as he chuckled, adjusting himself closer to her, he pulled the covers, feeling her move closer to him, as he placed his chin on top of her head, arms wrapping around her frame, almost asleep until he heard her mumble something against him.

"Hmm? Did you say something?"

There was silence for a moment before he heard a muffled sound, her warm breath tickling his neck as she mumbled,

"Gotta work Gotta make that money, make purse-"

A cackle broke past his lips as he squeezed her closer, earning a giggle from her, as he began singing along to her mumbling, glad that if he had to end up with someone, it was a lovable, adorable brat like him;

"Got a fur coat, so I make it purr Give 'em whiplash when they see me earn"

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @the-kpop-simp @mlysalt @spooo00oky @slaayysis

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hyukaslvr · 6 months

Text

strong enough | J. Jungkook (2)

<series masterlist

pairing: Jungkook x (f) reader

genre/tags: idol! Jungkook, idol! reader, idiot exes to lovers, slow burn ; k-drama feels (our beloved summer but not at the same time), angst, drama, fluff, smut

warnings: foul/explicit language, alcohol consumption, unhealthy coping mechanisms, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters, panic attacks, reader is harsh towards Jungkook, Jungkook is a meanie!, mentions of old abuse (major trigger warning!!), talk about blood and wounds

w.c: TBD

series summary: you and Jungkook have too many personal problems, during and after your relationship and it keeps getting brought up. you both had tried multiple times to ignore the fact you were both struggling mentally and physically due to your workplace, but you always run back to each other. maybe one day, one day you'll get back to each other, with all your problems handled, maybe not. all you want is for him to shine like he always does, all he wants is you.

a/n at very bottom!

the mirrors of your practice room were foggy, the heat radiating off of your whole groups bodies as you worked your hardest to perfect all the choreographies to your newest album. you worked especially hard since last week, you took a long time to really think about what happened.

“we both know you’re just as messy,” Jungkook spat at you, you bit back your tears and fought your conscience screaming at you to walk away. this isn’t something you would just walk away from, not with your boosting ego.

“this is why we won’t work out, Jungkook, you’re acting like a bitch. fix yourself, i’ll fix me. i thought you were doing better, but it seems like you’re still the dick you were during all our fucking arguments,” you grabbed your belongings and starting walking away from his frozen figure, his words hitting him like a brick in the face. you came out here with him hoping you could talk to him, make him remember the reason why you weren’t communicating things or in contact, but he just proved to you why you shouldn’t have came.

Jungkook sat back down, right where you sat, thinking over things. anytime he would see you, he felt this rage build up inside of him. the rage coming from nowhere, yet appearing whenever your pretty face shows up in his sight. he hates it. he swore to control his anger, the way he acted when things didn’t go his way, but apparently anger management isn’t enough for him.

it’s not that he hates you, he adores you, he loves you. but sometimes, he feels like he can’t stand you. you act like you have everything in your life sorted out, when you don’t, not without him. it might be toxic of him to think of you that way, but it’s true. you know it’s true, deep inside and past your wall that you’ve built up for no one to see behind your cute personality set for the stage. only he knows the real you, at least he thinks, and he knows you have a shit ton of problems just like him.

Jungkook clenches his fists, his knuckles turning white at the thought of how he spoke to you. you don’t deserve that, but at the same time, he rightfully believes you need someone to put you in your place sometimes. but at the same time, you wish someone would knock some sense into Jungkook and make him grow up, even if he grew up way to fast, he still is childish as ever when it comes to talking about things.

you snapped out of your state of thought as one of your members patted your back, telling you to drink up some water before starting again. you wiped your face with a towel before gulping down half of your bottle, tossing it on the floor, and starting up again. thank god that you have therapy tomorrow, you thought as you stand in position once again, waiting for the music to start up.

“he said that to you?” your therapist questioned, jotting down notes quickly so you can speak more about how you felt during that moment. you felt angry, sad, all of the above. out of all people you thought would understand, Jungkook was the one you felt would. yet, he opens his mouth and speaks mean words towards you like he always did when he was struggling, never able to control what he says. but who were you to talk, you did the same things, but you were for sure better at controlling it.

“i thought we were ready to talk about why we actually broke up, i thought i was to say at the least, he for sure wasn’t,” you sighed, picking at your skin around your fresh pedicured nails out of habit. it breaks your heart, seeing him that way, he only acts like that when he’s in a deep place. you can visualize him going home, and immediately changing into work out clothes, beating on his punching back until the chain gives out, his knuckles bleeding with open wounds.

but then again, who’s ever ready to talk about a long relationship ending? at the time, walking to the park in the freezing cold, you felt ready. you walked high and proud as you were side by side with the man whose heart you constantly break. maybe he did have the right to act that way, but it still hurts coming from him. yeah, you had to figure out your shit, but so did he, so him acting like that felt hypocritical.

“darling, no one is ever ready to talk about why relationships end the way they end,” she starts again, it’s was like she was reading your mind as you sat there quietly in thought, “maybe you should of waited, but know you know for sure that now isn’t the right time to get back together, no matter how much you both want and crave it,”

“we’re like the same person, at least i like to think so. i just want him to understand why i do what i do,” it makes your head hurt thinking about reasons why he couldn’t try to understand you at the least, it was the least he could do along with loving you. he was always so unreasonable with mental health.

“just give him some time to think about what he said and how he can fix things over time, time heals everything,” bullshit.

you felt like a mess, sitting in front of the vanity mirror as you get your hair fixed by your stylist, her sweet smile as your eyes reached hers in the mirror comforted you in the slightest, you just had to get through tonight and then you’ll be able to be alone in your dorm room, in the comfort of your own bed.

“feeling anxious?” your leader lets her head fall on your shoulder, smiling at the glitter in your inner corners and poking your cheek in awe, “you’ll be okay, at least you’re pretty and have curly hair,” her finger twirls the curl resting in the small ponytail in your hair, letting it boing back to place.

once your stylist was done, she spun your chair to face your leader, who bent down to fix the curls in your face, cupping your cheeks once she was done and smiling down at you, “i just wish to be home right now,” you sigh, practically melting into her hold and she squishes your cheeks in response. you wanted to cry, the amount of promotions you had this week drained every last bit of emotion out of you.

“just put a smile on that frowny face of yours, get out there and look as cute as you always do during fansigning, we’re gonna have a party tonight!” you groan in response, she lets go of your face to cross her arms across her chest, noticing your negative response to the idea of partying, “what’s wrong with getting wasted after all these promotions? it’s not like anyone else will be there,”

that was a lie, you sat in a corner of your shared house with group after group showing up and partying, while you just wanted to be in your bed. maybe if you get drunk enough, you can dance with a random and have some fun tonight, you thought while staring at your other members already claiming other males to dance with. the lights flashing making your head hurt, as you stood up to get another glass of your drink.

there was yelling going on around you, but you chose to ignore it and downed half of your cup before heading towards your room, planning on locking your door and drowning all the noise of the party out with music. but your heart and feet stopped when hollers from the front door caught your attention. the person who took feet away from you, you wished to disappear out of his sight. no, it wasn’t Jungkook, right about now you wished it was instead of the monster who stood close in front of you, but far away at the same time

Choi Jaehyun, also known as the dick that cheated on you, also known as the abusive alcoholic you had dated, also known as the reason for the way you were now. one little glance towards his way made you gag, in shock and disbelief that he would dare to even show up here. the first thing he did was grab a beer, like he always did at his house after hitting you like you were the cause of all his problems.

it makes you ache, your heart especially knowing you loved his shit ass self at one point, thinking that he would change if you just covered up all the marks he would leave on you. after that relationship was over, your leader swore at you to never get back into another relationship until you got over him. you were over him, to say the least, but not over the way he made you feel. he made you feel worthless, ungrateful, unworthy, like a weakling.

“you think you deserve to be out there in the spotlight, like the bitch you are?” he spat in your face, his hands close to your face making you feel like something was coming towards you.

“baby, please just sit down and listen to me-” another smack hit your cheek, the tingling burned and made you call out in a cry, “jaehyun! please, stop and just have a drink-” you gasped out, the tears burned your eyes but slightly cooled the heat of your cheek.

“drink some more, is that what you fucking what? you want me more drunk so you can run away again?” he grabs your cheek hard, pulling it as he backed you against the cold of the refrigerator. you tried to focus on the loud humming coming from the damn thing, instead of the burning sensation of his hand pinching at the same place he just whacked you, “you’ll never be able to get away from me, not again, baby,”

the tears flowed from your cheeks, his body now facing you as your memory fades away to a new one standing infront of you currently. the look of his face, like he didn’t expect you to be at your own groups party, what a fucking idiot. before he could walk towards you, you grabbed your drink and stormed past him, ignoring the ringing affect his call of your name had to your ears. you told yourself, that where ever he was, you weren’t going to be, never, ever again.

you left the house in nothing but a thin jacket, you walked until your legs gave up on you. once you sat down, not knowing where you were or where your legs were walking you to, you looked up at the dark sky. the lights of the stars twinkling above you, giving you some comfort of the unbearable memories you had. you wished you could just deleted everything, every moment you had that with sick man. but it stays with you, like a parasite eating away at your skin.

you sniffled as you calmed down, whipped out your phone to dial someone, anyone to come get you and to be in the comfort of someone’s arms. you scrolled and scrolled, hoping to see someone’s name that warmed your heart at the sight of it. your eyes scoped around your contacts, hoping for anyone’s name to pop up.

Park Jimin. you quickly dialed his number, knowing he would pick up in a heart beat, like he always did for you.

“are you sure you’ll be okay on the couch? my bed is just as comfortable, even more at that,” he spoke as softly as you remembered, he tucked you into the couch and making sure you were comfortable enough to sleep away your puffy eyes.

“i’ll be okay out here, Jimin, i promise,” Jimin was the only other member, besides Hoseok, who knew about you and Jungkook. he allowed you to come over time to time when ever you and Jungkook would have problems, problems that were always better than what Jaehyun ever put you through. you believe that why you always went back to him, back to the comfort of his aura because he truly loved you. he loved every bit of you, but he couldn’t handle every bit of you.

Jungkook would never, you thought as you rolled over, facing the back of the couch as Jimin accepted the fact you chose the couch over his bed and went upstairs to get some sleep for himself. Jungkook had his angry issues, but he would never show abusive tendencies towards you, no matter how mad he was. he never raised a hand towards your way, he never laid a finger on you. it took you awhile to trust him, but that trust never once left even after you left him multiple times. but, to never bring up the memories that made you feel like a burden, you never once mentioned your past relationship, no matter how many times Jungkook would beg to talk about your exes.

“you should start writing in your journal again, _____” Jimin spoke over his shoulder, his hands working on making your eggs the way you loved them, “i know that helped you at times like this, even if i don’t know what actually happened for you to end up 10 minutes away from my place,”

“it’s better not to talk about it, for my sake,” he nodded in agreement, letting you know he won’t budge any information out of you since he knows the way you looked when he picked you up from the random street you sat at. you always wanted to tell him about your past, what changed you into the mess you are now and why you can’t seem to stay stable at any current time of the year. just because it happened years ago, doesn’t mean it doesn’t affect you to talk about it, even if you trusted someone with your life, “you know what? that might be a good idea,” you spoke up after the minute of slience between you both.

you’ll write about everything bothering you, maybe you’ll be able to pick at the pieces broken inside of you to figure out how to handle all of your problems with Jungkook, but mainly yourself. you always need to put yourself first, your therapist would tell you, no matter how badly the other person is struggling, and you stood by that.

you never wanted to leave Jungkook, you never wanted him to feel like he wasn’t good enough for you love. you wanted him to feel like he was on the top of the world with you, to make him feel important and loved the way he should. what he doesn’t know, is that he was the reason you wanted to get better. he always told you, that you deserved everything heading towards you that was good. if the good was getting better and becoming healthy, hell yeah, you deserved that shit like it was a grammy.

so once you got back to the dorms, letting all your members and your worried leader know that you were at a good friends house after the party, you headed to your room with a fresh new notebook, ready to jot down all your feelings and thoughts that you let eat you alive everyday.

to my past, fuck you, sincerely. you deserve nothing, you don’t deserve to take over my life. i will get rid of you, i will get better, i deserve to be happy, i deserve to become a butterfly instead of moth. moths are pretty, but trust, i will be a beautiful monarch.

cheesy, you know that, but it’s true. so true that you continue to write until your hand cramps around your pen. you will get better, it just takes time, but time definitely does not heal everything.

a/n: i low-key hate writing angst, but here we are! this is a reminder that you are not alone if you’ve ever went through abuse or trauma with abuse, you will always have people out there for you and you have help too. there are hotlines on top of hotlines, please don’t be afraid to speak up about it, no matter what. i love you all, and never feel like you can’t reach out to talk to me, dm me about anything! you are all worthy and beautiful and deserve the best🩷. here are some hotlines: 1, 2, 3

taglist: @loumin908 @heartjiminie @cuntessaiii @parkinglot-nights @minsoa97kor @jkgirlfr @lavendersugarplum @gaebestie @whoa-jo @kp0pficdump @yunholuv @skzthinker @shwkoqp18 @veemegatron @joonsproperty @jk97bam @dna-black-and-blue

COMMENT TO BE ON TAGLIST!

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lemonlover1110 · 1 year

Text

Baby Steps

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 25] Progress

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

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Happy to co-host Gojo NSFW Week 2023! Come join us on Twitter!

For the past four months, Satoru has experienced being a father to the best baby in the world. Satoru quite literally cannot fathom the thought of loving someone more than he loves the little baby that’s strapped to his chest. And there’s nothing he loves more than hearing his little baby laugh as Satoru cuts up some strawberries.

“Is that funny, Seiji?” Satoru asks as the baby laughs, looking at how his father takes a strawberry and magically makes two of them. There’s no better sound than his baby laughing at Satoru doing the bare minimum. Seiji’s simply Satoru’s favorite human, he always will be. The same laughter emits when Satoru cuts up yet another strawberry.

“Satoru, aren’t you going grocery shopping?” You question as you walk into the kitchen to find him cutting up strawberries just to entertain your baby. He hums in response.

“Are you coming with?” Satoru responds and you shake your head. He’s noticed that you avoid going out. The most you go out lately is to the balcony of the apartment to take a breath of fresh air. He doesn’t want to call you out on it but it worries him.

“Do you want to take Seiji with you?” You ask him, and Satoru nods. Satoru insists on taking Seiji out, and while you try to say that inside Seiji is safer, Satoru just wants to show off his baby to the world.

“He helps me pick up ladies.” He jokes, making you roll your eyes. You’ve been dating– Not officially but you’re affectionate with each other and act as if you were dating. It’s like the beginning of your pregnancy, just this time you aren’t all too worried about labels. You’re both more focused on Seiji than anything; Satoru does want to make it official though, he just wants to make it special. “I was thinking… Maybe next week we can call Kaya to babysit so we can go on a date.”

“Depends on where it is.” You answer, and Satoru can’t bite his tongue.

“Why are you scared to go out?” Satoru brings up, and you shake your head. You’re definitely not scared to go out, inside it’s just simply safer. You chuckle.

“I’m not scared to go out.” You claim, but he really doesn’t believe it. The evidence makes it clear. You barely step out of the apartment.

“You know that we’ll have to move out eventually? We have to look for a house for the five of us, and I can’t exactly pick it out by myself.” He points out, and you end up sighing. “I know you refused to go to therapy but you should really consider it.”

“I’m fine.” You reply, and as the words leave your mouth, Seiji begins to fuss. It’s always funny to see Satoru bouncing to try to calm the baby down, Satoru’s hand going to Seiji’s tiny foot and caressing it. It doesn’t work, and he takes Seiji out of the carrier. You take the baby from Satoru and you kiss the top of Seiji’s head, “You wanna stay with mommy, don’t you?”

“He’s a traitor.” Satoru rolls his eyes. But only God knows that he would give up his life for that tiny little traitor.

Maybe Satoru is right, that’s all you think about while trying to go to bed. With Seiji you barely get any sleep, and you want to take advantage of every minute that you get to sleep, however, you can’t fall asleep even though you’re so tired. You’re just thinking about your son, how you’re refusing to go outside and how if you refuse to step a foot outside again, you’ll miss so much from his life. That’s the only thought that consumes your mind and it doesn’t help you sleep.

“Satoru.” You try to get his big arm off you because you hear your baby crying. Satoru is also exhausted; not only is he working but every time Seiji cries, Satoru tries to go to his rescue. Of course, he doesn’t have an unlimited source of energy so he’s bound to get tired eventually. Satoru rolls over and you get out of bed to get Seiji before he wakes up the sleeping kids.

You turn on the light of the nursery and smile as you walk over to your baby. You pick him up and kiss his forehead before walking to the rocking chair to feed him. You never really thought that at twenty one years of age you’d be breastfeeding your son but here you are. Worst of all is that you’re not even officially dating his father– No, worst of all is that you’d do it all over again just to be able to hold your son in your arms.

Once he’s finished, you smile at him. You were thinking that the older he gets, the more he’ll look like you but it feels like he just looks more and more like Satoru. You boop his nose before your hand caresses the little hair that he has on his head. Maybe it isn’t ideal to be a mother at such a young age, but you’d do anything for Seiji.

“I love you, Seiji.” You tell him and he coos. You can’t wait to hear him talk, but you also hate the thought because it means he’s just growing faster and faster. You want him to stay small forever but you also want him to grow up to be his own person.

And you can’t stay locked inside forever while it happens.

You rock him until he’s finally asleep again. You kiss his forehead before standing up and putting him in the crib. You turn off the light and walk back to the bedroom to go to sleep. When you lay in the bed, Satoru’s arm goes over you again. He cuddles into you, and a smile comes to your face.

“Everything okay?” He asks, his voice barely comprehensible since he’s three quarters asleep.

“He was just hungry.” You answer. His nose buries in your nape, and you feel a smile creep onto your face. “You were right, I should go to therapy.”

“Really?” He wakes right up, his eyes shooting open. You hum in response. He brings you even closer to him before asking, “Why?”

“If I stay inside forever then I’ll miss so much of his life… And maybe with that help we can start a relationship and whatnot.”You respond and you feel his lips on your neck.

“Aren’t we technically in a relationship? We’re sleeping in the same bed and we–” He begins but before he can finish the sentence, you cut him off.

“I mean… We weren’t technically in a relationship when Seiji was conceived. And do I need to remind you that you were dating Leiko while we–”

“Leiko doesn’t count, not a real relationship.” He interrupts you because he doesn’t like to remember that part of his life. It hasn’t been a year since it happened but he wants to pretend like it never happened. He did all that to protect you… And he wonders how the secret spilled. How Suguru got to know about you and your pregnancy. He wonders if he should really look for the person who spilled the secret because he’s vengeful and he doubts he’ll let the person live after you were so close to death. “I’m glad that you want to get help to be a better mommy to our son.”

“I’ll do anything for him.” You say.

“I know you would. I would too.” He responds. He kisses your shoulder before he tells you, “I love you.”

“We should go on that date.” You tell him, a smile coming to his face. And while you said that you wouldn’t have more kids, that was right after giving birth. The more time passes by, the less you remember the pain of giving birth, “If all goes well, maybe in a couple years we can have another baby.”

“I like that idea. We have to have a daughter so we can give her your name.” Satoru says which causes you to laugh. You do want a daughter. Your smile fades when you feel something on your back.

“Satoru… Does the idea of getting me pregnant turn you on?” You ask him as you feel his erection on your back. He tries to deny it as he lets go of you and rolls to the other side out of embarrassment. You go to hug him, kissing his cheek, “I’m flattered, really. Especially with how I look now.”

“How do you look now?” Satoru sounds completely confused. He turns again so he can look at you. You end up shrugging, looking away slightly embarrassed. His hand goes to your chin and he tilts your head up before pecking your lips. “You truly have never looked more beautiful. It takes everything in me to not pick you up and drag you in here. You’ve never looked hotter.”

“You’re flattering me.” You chuckle, and he brings his lips to meet yours. You can’t help but smile at him. He really makes you happy even if he irks you at times.

“You’re really the most beautiful woman that has ever walked on Earth.” Satoru tells you and you have a stupid smile on your face. You wish you could fight it off, but it’s impossible. “I would knock you up right now if you’d let me.”

“Hmm…” You laugh before kissing him again. “I was about to have sex with you, but you scared me off.”

“I said if you’d let me.” Satoru insists, but you shake your head.

“I’m just really tired right now, maybe tomorrow.”

“Alright, which one will hold Seiji?” Satoru asks as he holds Seiji with one arm, and the other holds a camera. Megumi points at Tsumiki while she raises her hand. Megumi saw the last mess Seiji made in his diaper, and he isn’t going to risk that happening to him. Satoru smiles as he hands Seiji off to Tsumiki. He makes sure she holds the baby right.

You told Satoru you wanted a picture of Seiji with the kids, and of course he’s trying to do so while you have your first therapy session. You’re in the bedroom, talking in the phone with them while Satoru tries to arrange the kids in the living room. They’re all wearing a cute outfit, a matching blue color. Satoru arranged the furniture so he could have a blank background for the picture of the kids.

“Stand next to Tsumiki and Seiji, Megumi.” Satoru orders as he gets the camera ready. He has to make it fast because he doubts that Tsumiki will be able to hold Seiji for too long. “Okay, smile. Say cheese.”

Megumi smiles, showing all his teeth and it makes Satoru roll his eyes. He won’t argue about it though. He snaps his fingers to get Seiji’s attention, and when he does he makes a stupid face to get the baby to laugh. When the baby laughs, Satoru snaps the picture.

He looks at the picture momentarily, but he only looks at his baby boy without caring to check how Megumi and Tsumiki look. Satoru picks up Seiji from Tsumiki’s arms. Then when he holds the baby, he looks at the picture: Megumi’s awful smile, Tsumiki blinked right on cue, the only person that looks adorable is Seiji. That’s all he cares about, the Gojos can’t look bad in any picture.

“Can I look at the picture?” Megumi asks and Satoru shakes his head. Megumi pouts his lips, and when Seiji sees it he laughs. That fills Satoru's heart up with joy.

“Oh, you’re just so cute.” Satoru kisses the baby’s cheeks. Then he holds Seiji up to blow a raspberry on his tummy, “I can’t wait to show your mommy the picture.”

“He doesn’t look like you, that’s why he’s cute.” Megumi says, and Satoru doesn’t pay any attention.

“Tsumiki, will you argue with your brother?”

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