#i love it and love him but trying to write him is HORRIFYING

[absurdthirst]

The Watcher {Modern!Oberyn Martell x F!Reader x Ellaria Sand}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: Voyeurism, exhibitionism, oral sex (male receiving), masturbation, vaginal sex, sexual invitation, alcohol, threesome, stripping, nipple play, oral sex (female receiving), wlw, vaginal sex, face sitting, cock worship

Comments: The view out the window of your apartment becomes an obsession, watching the lovers in the building across the way touch each other. Until you discover they know you are watching, and invite you to join.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Oberyn Martell MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Oberyn smirks as Ellaria straddles him, taking off his glasses and setting them down on the small side table, a cheeky grin on her face. He’s been busy reading his book about Ancient Rome, and she is tired of thinking how good he looks with those new glasses on. “You’re interrupting me, my sun.” Oberyn tuts and Ellaria chuckles, grabbing the book and closing it before she sets it down. 

“Like you were reading it anyway. Your eyes have been following me around the room.” She hums, sliding her hands along his shirt clad chest. 

“You’re eager for me. I love it.” Oberyn coos, leaning in to playfully nip his lover’s jaw, his lips pressing onto her cheek until he finds her lips, his hands squeezing her waist.

The first time you had seen the gorgeous couple, they had been directing movers into the building across from yours. The large picture windows that had cost you a fortune to have the view of the city, had also been perfect to see into the spacious apartment. You had been curious, a little envious of the willowy brunette for her exquisite taste in furniture, clothing and men. Then you had gone about your day. Until you had seen them undress each other. 

You hadn’t meant to spy, horrified that you could clearly see their activities and they did not realize it. Until you had seen how intimate they were. Their desire intrigued you and you had watched until they were done. 

Now, you are watching again. Breathless when you see the woman straddle him. You don’t know his name, never formally introducing yourself for fear of dying of shame, but you secretly call him Prince. Not after the musician, but because you would think him a King with his sharp jaw and hooked nose, but he is too carefree. He is more like a Prince, a dashing second son of royalty with all the perks and none of the responsibility.

“My sun. You are exquisite.” Oberyn murmurs, his hands gripping Ellaria’s dress and he’s quick to drag it over her head. When that hits the floor, his large hands cup her tits, grateful she’s not wearing a bra, and he leans in to take her nipple into his mouth.

They are gorgeous together, so beautiful it should piss you off and they are completely enamored with each other. You bite your lip, trying to ignore the throbbing in your pussy as you watch, getting turned on by the scene that has started playing out in front of your windows.

His hands caress her back, sliding down to her ass, and he snakes his fingers under the elastic of her panties, squeezing her ass while she starts to grind onto his hardening cock. “You are a minx, my love.” Oberyn murmurs, kissing up Ellaria’s sternum. “All for you, my prince.” Ellaria murmurs, running her hands through his hair.

Even though you aren’t being touched, your skin starts to tingle, breaths coming out in uneven pants. When they do this, which is often, you are helpless to do anything else. Drawn to them like a moth to the flame. You wish you were there, kissing her beautiful body or sinking your fingers into his short, peppered dark hair.

Oberyn chuckles as Ellaria shifts off of his lap, her fingers hooking in his sweatpants and she drags them down. His hard cock bounces as it’s released from his pants. “Mmm she’s watching again.” Ellaria observes without looking over to the window. Oberyn chuckles and strokes her cheek, “then let’s give her something to watch.”

You don’t know they are talking about you. Imagining the words exchanged between them to be the affirmations of love that you don’t have. No partner in a long time and maybe that’s why you’ve fixated on them. You don’t know who you would want more. The seductive woman, with a bewitching smile and fantastic tits; or the debonair man with a wicked smirk and huge cock. Both have their merits and if you could, in your dream, you would have both.

Ellaria leans in, “we gotta put on a good show for her, lover.” She coos, gripping Oberyn’s cock and he groans when she leans in to slide her tongue along the underside of his length. “Mierda.” He hisses, his eyes closing as she wraps her lips around the head after pushing down the foreskin.

You moan softly, alone in your apartment as you watch her take the man’s cock into her mouth. Wondering how he tastes, how he feels on her tongue. Wishing you could share with her. You shouldn’t touch yourself. Sitting down into a chair that hides all but your head as you watch, you hand slides down to cup your cunt through your leggings.

“Do you think she wants your cunt, my sun. Or my cock? Or both of us?” Oberyn muses as Ellaria starts to bob her head, taking his cock a little deeper. “We could share her. If she wants to come over here.” Oberyn smirks, his chest heaving as Ellaria wrecks him with her mouth like she always does. “Shall we give her a bigger show? Have you ride me so she can watch?” Oberyn groans, caressing Ellaria’s hair.

Over the leggings isn’t enough, making you snake your hand down the stretchy material and groan when you touch the swollen bundle of nerves. You’re already slick, so turned on it’s embarrassing and you would cringe to know if anyone discovered your secret. You’ve become a voyeur, unable to masturbate until the strangers in the building across from your apartment are fucking.

Ellaria pulls off of Oberyn’s cock, a giggle escaping her lips as she straddles him again. Reaching down to grip his cock, she notches him at her entrance and starts to slowly sink down onto him. His hands caressing her back, sliding up to squeeze her tits. “Gorgeous, my sun. She will enjoy watching you.”

Your own moan is audaciously loud, echoing through your apartment as the perfectly cast porno plays out in front of you. You wonder how they feel, her squeezing around him and the way he breaks her open. Your two fingers dip into your soaked cunt and then slide back out to rub slow circles around your aching clit, hissing because of how good it feels.

Ellaria slides her hands up his chest, caressing the sun tattoo on his peck he got in honor of his love for her. She had pulled him out of a dark place after his sister was murdered. “His burst of light in the darkness” is what he called her. “My lover, she is touching herself.” Ellaria declares as she looks in the mirror they set up to watch you without you knowing. “Good. Let her watch. Imagine herself sitting pretty on my cock. Or maybe she’s imagining lapping at where we are joined?” He ponders while she starts to rock on top of him.

If you weren’t obsessed with seeing them every second, you would close your eyes, but you have to watch them. She is so graceful as she rolls her hips and starts to ride that impressive cock. You moan again, imagining being there with them, hearing them.

Oberyn chuckles when Ellaria clenches around him at the thought of both situations. “Don’t worry, my sun. We will find out.” He promises, certain that you’d accept an invitation. He squeezes her ass and playfully slaps her cheek when she rocks faster. “That’s it. Want you to soak my cock with your cum. Take what you need.” He grunts to his lover.

You pant, watching them as they move together. Craving the closeness and the intimacy in each kiss and touch. Even the slap of her ass is one made with affection and you cunt clenches around nothing, wondering what his touch would feel like.

Ellaria rocks a little faster, her breathing starting to pick up and Oberyn leans in to take her nipple into his mouth, his large hands splayed over her back, caressing her as she seeks her orgasm from his cock. “That’s it, lover. Keep going. Want you to cum for me.”

They are so elegant, even as they engage in the most crass or carnal activities. Making you whine and your own breast tingles like his mouth is on it instead of lavishing attention on her small breasts. Your rubbing turns harder, thighs pressing and pushing apart as you grind down.

Ellaria watches you in the mirror, her fingers gripping Oberyn’s shoulders as she works herself on his cock until she’s collapsing against him, her body shaking as her orgasm rocks through her. “That’s it, my love.” He murmurs, bracing his feet on the floor so he can thrust up into her, his jaw clenched.

She came. You know it. It’s so beautiful when she stiffens in his arms and collapses against him. “Oh fuck, oh fuck.” You whine, so close to cumming yourself as you watch him take over. His cock pumping into her cunt and you imagine that it’s you for a moment. It sends you over the edge and you cry out softly.

Oberyn grunts, lost in the lust of you watching him fuck his lover. Usually he’d last a couple of rounds but today, he’s eager to cum. He pants, his cock thrusting deep and hard into his partner. He knows she can take him. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He growls, pushing deep when he stills. Cock twitching inside of her as he paints her walls with his seed.

Your eyes greedily watch as he stiffens, knowing he is cumming. Moaning softly, you can only imagine the bliss of how it feels. Relaxing and feeling guilty because of watching them again.

Oberyn groans as he relaxes beneath Ellaria, kissing along her neck until he playfully bites her chin. “You’re too good for me.” He murmurs, kissing her lips softly. “Don’t be ridiculous, my prince. That’s the sex talking.” She teases and he chuckles. “Should we let the girl know we know she’s watching us?” He asks, leaning back to raise his eyebrows. “Let’s.” Ellaria smirks, shifting off of his cock.

Now is the time that you hate yourself. Dragging your fingers out of your leggings, you vow that you won’t watch them again even though you know you will.

Neither Oberyn or Ellaria rush over to the window. They shower and redress, waiting until you’re relaxed on your sofa when Oberyn takes the notepad over to the window. He presses the pad to the glass so you can read it and smirks when he sees your eyes widen at his presence.

‘We know you’re watching’. Your face flames up and you feel like you are going to just die of embarrassment on the spot. They know! They have known…..but then again, if they have known, why didn’t they lower the automatic shades to conceal themselves. You feel bold and grab the notebook you have next to the chair to write a message back. ‘And you are good’ is what it reads as you hold it up to your own window.

Oberyn smirks at your response, glad that you’re not running away. Ellaria called it. You want them. More than anything. He chuckles and grabs his pen, scrawling out a message. ‘Do you want to join us?’ It reads and he awaits your response.

You’re dreaming. It has to be a dream. But if it’s a dream, you are damn sure you are going to have exactly what you want. You rush to pull your pen out of the sleeve in the front and write a message. ‘What apartment #?’

He quickly jots down the apartment number, showing it to you until you nod, and he writes again. ‘Come over in ten minutes.’ He writes and when you nod again, he walks off and finds Ellaria. “She is coming, my lover.” Oberyn murmurs as Ellaria exits the bedroom and he holds her waist, leaning in to kiss her shoulder.

You spend seven of the ten minutes showering. Shaving quickly and praying that you didn’t miss patches. Sliding into never used lingerie and asking yourself if you are really doing this, you let yourself out of your apartment without even looking out the window again, knowing you would lose your nerve if you did.

When the buzzer rings for the door, Oberyn walks over and lets you in. He glances over at Ellaria who has a sultry smile on her face and she watches as Oberyn opens the door after you ring the doorbell. “Hello.” Oberyn greets you, realizing how pretty you are up close.

“Hello.” He has a slight accent you cannot place and even more striking in person. His dark eyes are filled with amusement and intrigue, drawing you closer to him. You introduce yourself, not sure if they want to know your name honestly.

You’re nervous. Oberyn and Ellaria have shared partners before but it seems you haven’t if your nervous look is anything to go by. “Come in. I’m Oberyn and this gorgeous creature is my partner, Ellaria.” He gestures to the woman waiting at the end of the hall.

“Yes, she is.” You blurt out and then bite your lip. “You are, too. Gorgeous, I mean. Both of you are.” You laugh at yourself. “God, I can’t believe you caught me. I’m sorry- or I should be sorry. But I’m really not.”

Oberyn chuckles and shuts the door behind you after you walk over to Ellaria. “You’re not.” The woman declares, “but we love that. My lover and I…we have shared partners before. We are comfortable with you watching. Shit, my prince nearly came too fast when I told him you were watching us.” She winks at you, “you are welcome in our bed if you wish. Only if you wish.” She emphasizes, wanting you to be comfortable.

“Prince?” Your brow shoots up, surprised that she uses the same nickname you do. “Are you his Princess?”

“No. That’s reserved for his daughters.” Ellaria chuckles, “he has eight of them.” Your eyes widen and you glance back at Oberyn, and he grins. “I was wild in my younger days.” Ellaria tuts, “he still is.” Oberyn winks at her and walks down the hall to his partner. “We are being rude hosts. What would you like to drink, sweet girl?” He asks, “we have wine, whiskey, coffee, tea, water?”

“I’ll have what you will have.” You decide as you follow behind him like a lost puppy. “What do you like to drink before sex, during sex, after sex?”

Oberyn nods, “I have a beautiful red wine. My family…they are wine makers. I have a bottle of Dornish red. How does that sound?” He asks, walking over to the wine fridge while Ellaria gets the glasses.

You nod and watch them. “When you did know I was watching?” You ask curiously. “I had hoped I was more discreet. Obviously not, since I’m here.” You can’t be upset about that. Not when you will soon see how they both feel.

“We realized you were watching a few weeks ago. We have been trying to figure out if you wanted us or just wanted to watch us. Decided to take the chance today.” Ellaria confesses, handing you a glass of wine after Oberyn pours three. “What have you been thinking about while watching us?” Ellaria asks, reaching up to caress your cheek.

“How you taste.” You answer honestly, nearly moaning at the first touch of her skin shading yours. “How he feels. Being between you.”

Oberyn smirks as he takes a sip of his drink. "You want to taste her?" He asks and you nod, "yes." Your breathless response makes him chuckle. "Do you have any limits? We aren't dominating but I can manhandle sometimes." He murmurs, watching Ellaria step back from you so you can think.

“I don’t like waste play.” You murmur. “I don’t mind manhandling.” You admit. “I want to know what you sound like, I imagine how you would moan and grunt. You fuck gracefully.”

Oberyn smirks, watching Ellaria step closer to you. Your wine glass is still in your hand and she leans in, cupping your cheek. "You will find out." She promises, leaning in to softly press her lips to yours while Oberyn sips his wine.

The first kiss is making you sigh. The hand not holding the glass of wine quickly finds her narrow waist and holds onto it. In disbelief that you are here and getting to touch them, your tongue slides out to touch hers.

Ellaria slides her tongue against yours, her hand sliding around to cup the back of your head. Oberyn is happy to watch for now, enjoying the view of two beautiful women kissing. "How does she taste?" Oberyn asks you, "do you want to taste more?"

You honestly don’t want to break away, but you need to answer him. Pressing your lips to hers a few more times, you finally pull away. “Delicious.” You hum. “I want more. I’m greedy for everything you will give me, my prince.”

Oberyn chuckles at your eagerness, setting his glass of wine down, he makes his way over to you and Ellaria. Standing behind you, his hands find your waist and he grinds his hardening cock against your ass while he leans in to press kisses to your shoulder. “Keep kissing her.” Oberyn orders, “then I want to watch her take off her clothes.” He murmurs into your skin.

You whine quietly, nodding as you drag Ellaria’s lips back to yours. Needing the pressure of them against your own. You push back against his cock, loving how you’ve ended up sandwiched between the two gorgeous creatures. The strength in his touch is tempered by the softness of hers, Complimenting and balancing each other out.

Ellaria reaches for the hem of the pretty sundress you are wearing, breaking the kiss so she can reveal your body underneath. "Look, lover. She is a pretty little package." Ellaria coos when the dress hits the floor and your lingerie is exposed. Oberyn smirks, "what a divine set. Shame it is going to join your dress." He hums, his hands sliding along your back and he hooks his fingers in your bra straps, dragging them down your shoulders while leaning in to kiss the nape of your neck.

“Yesssss” you moan, tilting your head forward to let him kiss you however he wants. “It’s- whatever you want. I just want you to touch me.” You beg softly.

Oberyn slides his hands lower to unclasp your bra and Ellaria drags it down your arms, letting it drop to the floor and her eyes darken at the sight of your breasts. "Gorgeous." She exhales and leans in to kiss along your sternum and across the top of your breast until she is taking your nipple into her mouth.

“Oh god.” You pant out, leaning back against Oberyn who lifts your breast up so Ellaria can suckle. Feeling like you are in the middle of the most erotic dream you have ever had. “I- fuck, I knew you both would be amazing.” You praise.

Ellaria bites down your nipple before she switches over, making you whimper, and she smirks against your skin. "She's a good lover." Oberyn compliments Ellaria, "and she loves feasting on a delicious pussy." His hand slides lower to cup you through your lace panties.

His hands are fucking massive. You had assumed so because of how he looked with his hand on his lover, but there was no account for how he cups you. Covering the swollen lips of your cunt completely and it makes you whine loudly, a wordless cry of pleasure. Letting both of them touch and tease you as they want.

Oberyn slides his hand under the elastic of your panties, finding your clit, and he chuckles at your whimper as he starts to rub. “She’s so wet, my sun.” Oberyn coos to Ellaria who kisses down your stomach. Her fingers hook in your panties and she drags them down, exposing Oberyn’s hand rubbing your bundle of nerves.

They have done this before, it’s obvious in the silent coordination. They move together to strip you down and expose your body to their gazes. “Oh fuck.” You whisper, looking down to find her smirking up at you. Kneeling and lifting your leg onto her shoulder before she slides her tongue along Oberyn’s finger and your clit.

Oberyn smirks at your reaction, kissing along your neck as you lean back against him. Ellaria’s tongue slides around your clit, Oberyn’s hand shifting to squeeze your breast so his lover can properly taste you.

Your fingers slide along her jaw and your other hand reaches back to sink into Oberyn’s hair. Using them to anchor yourself so you don’t float away. The irony of being in front of the same windows that you were watching them through isn’t lost on you and it just makes your cunt clench even more. Turning your head, you kiss Oberyn jaw. “Kiss me.” You demand.

He doesn’t deny you. He presses his lips to yours, his tongue immediately sliding into your mouth. Ellaria continues to lap at your clit and you gasp into Oberyn’s mouth, his tongue dominating as he slides it against yours. His fingers pinch your nipples and he groans when you reach behind you to squeeze his cock through his pants.

His cock is large. You already knew that, but the distance had minimized how thick he is. Making you moan into his mouth when you squeeze him again and he twitches against your palm. Ellaria’s tongue is magic, flicking and licking like you have never been licked before. She’s obviously practiced and you can’t find yourself anything but envious of the other lovers for having her attention before now.

Ellaria closes her eyes as she laps at you, reaching around to unbutton Oberyn’s pants, allowing you to pull his cock out. “Shit.” He hisses at the way you immediately squeeze him. He grunts as you start to pump him and Ellaria hums around your clit.

You need more, greedy for it. Your hips push down, begging for more as you pump Oberyn’s cock. His mouth covers yours again, swallowing your moans as the two of them work to tear you apart at the very seam.

Oberyn groans into your mouth when you pump him a little faster. Ellaria laps at your clit and you whine into Oberyn’s mouth until he pulls away. “That’s it, baby. Cum for her. Cum for us.” He demands, pinching your nipples again.

You’re already teetering on the edge. You have been since Ellaria began her gentle and skilled assault on your clit. Building you up so quickly that you didn’t even realize how long you’ve been edged. How your body screams for release. Permission granted, you fall over the edge as he twists your nipples sharply, screaming out in their arms.

Oberyn chuckles against your jaw as you cum, slumping slightly against him. “That’s it, baby. That’s it. Mierda. So pretty when she cums.” He says to Ellaria as she laps at your clit, sliding her tongue between your folds to taste you. “She’s delicious.” She coos, letting your leg down and she stands up, pressing her lips to Oberyn’s so he can taste your tangy cum on her lips. He groans, cupping the back of her neck to taste you from her mouth.

“Let me-“ you pant breathless, watching them kiss and despite the fact that you just came, you want more. Your hands reach out to cup her small breasts and you squeeze them. “Fuck you are so beautiful.”

“Do you want to taste her?” Oberyn asks after pulling his lips away from Ellaria. “Do you wish to lick her cunt while I fuck yours?” He hums, sliding his hands down to squeeze both yours and Ellaria’s ass cheeks in each hand.

“Oh shit.” You whine, cunt clenching desperately at the idea. “I think- that’s- yessssss.” You can’t even articulate how badly you want that. How you want to be completely surrounded by them and lost in their world of pleasure. “I’m clean.” You pant. “I want- cum inside me.”

Oberyn chuckles at your eagerness. “We are clean too.” Oberyn trusts you. He’s had enough experience to know when someone is lying. “You are on birth control?” Oberyn asks, kissing your shoulder up to your neck. “I-IUD.” You manage to choke out and Oberyn bites down on your pulse. “Ellaria, my love, strip and go lay down on the bed. This one wants to taste your sweet nectar.” Oberyn reaches around to playfully smack the ass of his partner. “And you, lay next to her while I strip. I want you to kneel.”

​​You watch Ellaria while she untangles herself from the two of you and saunters into the bedroom. “She is gorgeous, is she not?” Oberyn whispers in your ear. “I can tell, you do not know who you are more interested in. Myself or my lover.” He slides his hand down to rub your clit again. “So you will have both of us. We will take every drop of pleasure you will give us.” You whine breathlessly and nod, closing your eyes.

Ellaria lays down on the bed, now naked and you moan at the sight of her golden glowing skin on display like a goddess. One you want to worship. She crooks her finger at you, beckoning you over, and you waste no time shifting to lay beside her after Oberyn releases you from his grip. You whimper as Ellaria kisses you and Oberyn starts to unbutton his half buttoned shirt, exposing the rest of his chest.

They are so gorgeous. Beautiful in masculine and feminine forms, and so incredibly erotic that it makes your skin tingle. Your hands drift over Ellaria’s body, caressing in and squeezing while you watch Oberyn undress from the corner of your eye.

Oberyn pushes his pants down, feet bare as he steps out of them, and he smirks when your eyes widen as you get a good look at his hard cock. “Kneel on the bed. I want to fuck you.” He orders, his voice demanding yet sensual. Ellaria kisses you one last time and playfully smacks your thigh to silently demand you kneel.

Completely naked, he still looks regal and imposing. Making you feel as if you are kneeling before royalty, although you doubt you would be displaying your wet cunt to a king. You shift your thighs apart, arching your back slightly to make sure he can see how you are dripping as you kneel between Ellaria’s gracefully long legs.

Oberyn caresses your ass as he kneels on the bed behind you. "Too fucking beautiful." He murmurs, "going to see how tight that pussy is." He chuckles, gripping his cock as he shuffles closer.

“Been a long time.” You admit quietly, drinking in the sight of Ellaria’s wet folds. “But I want to make sure your lover enjoys herself too.” You lean in and dive into her cunt with enthusiasm.

Ellaria moans as you slide your tongue through her folds. Oberyn watches her face and his cock twitches in his grip as he slides the head through your wet folds. You’re soaking wet. He pushes into you, slowly, and your moan vibrates against Ellaria’s clit.

He stretches you out, making you gasp in pleasure as you lurch forward. His hips flat against your ass when he’s buried deep. Your tongue flicks over Ellaria’s clit, curling up and then pressing against the bundle of nerves while you push back against the feeling of being impaled.

Oberyn groans as you clench around him. “She’s so tight, my love.” Oberyn coos to his partner. “Tighter than we thought she would be.” He confesses as he starts to move inside of you. Ellaria watches as her lover takes you from behind, her eyes flicking down to watch you as you lap at her clit.

You moan, clenching around him at the idea they had talked about you, wondering about you. Perhaps while Ellaria was sitting on his cock. They had been watching you as well. You suck on her clit and squeeze her thighs. Loving how she rolls her hips down and watches as Oberyn starts to rock into you.

Ellaria moans when you push your tongue inside of her and Oberyn smirks at the look on her face. “She’s done this before. She’s a good girl, isn’t she, my sun? Sucking on your perfect little clit like the voyeuristic whore she is.” He hums playfully, gripping your hips as he starts to rock a little faster.

You whimper and take every thrust of his hips, pushing you into Ellaria. You love it, holding onto her hip and devouring her as you clench around her lover's cock. You are a voyeuristic whore, their whore. You will do anything for them and they’ve barely touched you. Already marking you as theirs while you share their bed.

“She’s enjoying this, lover.” Ellaria purrs as you lap at her clit, making her chest heave with pleasure. “She is. She’s clenching around me.” Oberyn coos, caressing your hips. “She’s greedy. I love it.” He chuckles and thrusts a little harder, pushing you more into his partner’s cunt and you moan into her folds.

She tastes wonderful, tangy and musky. Making you addicted to the slick arousal that seeps from her like honey, thick and luscious on your tongue. His cock shreds up inside you, searching with small adjustments, for that perfect spot until you are crying out when he finds it.

“That’s it.” Oberyn grins victoriously. “Take what I give you, baby.” He grunts, rocking against that spot over and over. “El, I want you to cum for us.” He demands, looking over at his lover. “Cum on her pretty tongue.”

Your nipples harden at the intensity in his tone, eyes watching her and you can see that she's responding to his commands. Her body priming itself to cum just like he wants her to and you double down on the flicks of your tongue, wanting to make her fall apart.

It takes a few more seconds before Ellaria falls over the edge. Her moan echoing in the bedroom and she tilts her head back as she cums. Oberyn smirks as he watches her, loving seeing her pleasure. “You did a good job, baby.” Oberyn compliments you as you work her through it. “She loves it. Look at her face.” He says, grabbing the back of your neck to bring your head up to watch her.

He’s pulsing inside if you, not cumming, just throbbing as he holds you so you can watch Ellaria. Obviously enjoying the sight of his lover’s pleasure himself. Holding still inside you until she is slumped down onto the bed in a pool of limbs and moans.

Oberyn wants you to cum too. He pulls out of you and flips you over, Ellaria’s arms opening to pull you into her lap as Oberyn lifts your legs up onto his forearms. “Want to see your face when you cum.” He smirks, pumping his cock until he’s pushing back inside of you. Ellaria’s hands find your tits, squeezing them and her lips press against your neck while Oberyn watches.

They are completely overwhelming you in the best possible ways. Oberyn’s cock is thick and heavy inside you, starting to move again. “Oh fuck.” You might like looking up at him more than the way his cock feels when he has you from behind. “So good.”

“He’s like a prince. So regal.” Ellaria hums as she kisses your ear while her eyes focus on Oberyn. His jaw is clenched and he squeezes your thighs as he pushes into you, adjusting the angle on each thrust until you cry out. “There it is, lover.” Ellaria coos, her hand snaking down to rub your clit.

“He is.” You pant, nodding agreement as your nipples harden even more. His cock rocking into you and her delicate fingers on your clit is proving to be the most delicious form of torture. “I’m gonna cum.” You gasp out, feeling your body starting to tighten in anticipation.

“Do it. Cum for us.” Ellaria hums, pinching your clit and that sends you over the edge. You clamp down on Oberyn’s cock and he hisses in delight, loving the way you moan his name followed by Ellaria’s. “Mierda. She’s so tight.” Oberyn grunts as your walls flutter around him while you soak him with your orgasm.

The praise makes you keen, the words sounds of pleasure ripping out of your throat as you nearly black out. Feeling him start to slow down his thrusts, you open your eyes in confusion.

He pulls out of you when you relax against Ellaria. “I don’t want to cum yet.” He explains, his cock shiny with your cream and he smirks, shifting to lay down beside you and Ellaria who wastes no time pressing her lips to his. You whimper and Ellaria chuckles as she pulls back from Oberyn, grabbing your neck to push you towards him and his tongue immediately slides into your mouth, his hand squeezing your thigh. “I want you to ride my face while Ellaria rides my cock.” He demands, his cock still hard against his belly.

You moan into his mouth, nodding eagerly. They have completely taken over your senses and you will do anything they want. Sliding back so you can let Oberyn lay back. Leaning over to kiss Ellaria before she straddles his hips.

Oberyn groans as Ellaria sinks down on his cock and he desperately wants you to sit on his face. You don’t deny him as you shift to straddle his chest, shuffling back so you can hover over his face and he quickly pulls you down so your weight is on his mouth.

Oberyn is just as eager of a lover as Ellaria is. His fingers dig into your hips and his tongue is immediately pushing into your soaked walls. Making you cry out in his eagerness to devour you. Blowing past all your imagined scenarios and ideas of what would happen if you were ever with the two of them.

Ellaria reaches out to squeeze your tits as she bounces on Oberyn’s cock like she’s done many times. Oberyn twitches inside of her as she clenches around him and his tongue flicks over your clit, wanting you to grind down on him. His hands squeeze your hips to encourage you to move.

You lean forward, cupping her tits as well, tangling your tongue with hers in a frantic kiss. Your hips start to roll as you ride his tongue, the whiskers of his neat thin beard and mustache rubbing against you wonderfully.

He laps at your clit, loving the way you grind down onto him and Ellaria slides her tongue with yours, her moans smothered by your lips as she rides her partner in a well practiced dance. “Fuck.” Ellaria pants as she pulls back from your lips, her back arching as she grips your shoulders to work herself harder on Oberyn’s cock.

You whine, watching up close and in person the scene that had you in a chokehold since they have moved in. Watching as she rides him and now, you feel his tongue flicking against your clit as he pleasures you at the same time as his lover. It’s everything decadent and wicked, making you wish they had signaled you earlier.

Oberyn groans when he feels how close Ellaria is, his cock twitching inside of her, and he hisses when she starts to cum, clamping down on his cock. His fingers dig into your flesh as he works his jaw wider, tongue lapping at more of you. He’s desperate for you to cum and Ellaria slumps forward against you as she shakes on his cock.

You almost pull away from his tongue, nearly overstimulated by the way his mouth works over your cunt. The pure bliss on Ellaria’s face nearly makes you cum again, and it only takes a few more flicks of Oberyn’s tongue before you are crying out a garbled combination of their names.

Oberyn works you through it, Ellaria caressing your back and kissing along your neck as she shudders through the aftermath of her pleasure. Oberyn groans when Ellaria pulls off of his cock and kneels beside his body, “want us to suck your cock?” She hums, “my lover adores his cock being sucked.” She coos and trails her finger along the slick and creamy velvet of Oberyn’s length. He groans when you lift off of his face and kneel on the other side of his body.

“He deserves to have his cock sucked.” You agree, reaching out to swipe your finger through the juices that are gathered on the tip. Thrilled that all three of you are combined so beautifully. “He has made us cum so thoroughly on it, it deserves to be worshiped.”

Ellaria nods, gripping the base of Oberyn’s cock and he shifts to his elbows to watch two beautiful women work to make him cum. “Suck on the tip. He loves that.” She orders and you do as she says, leaning in to take the tip into your mouth. He groans and Ellaria leans in, her tongue sliding down the length until she is taking his balls into her mouth and rolling them with her tongue. “Fuckkkk.” Oberyn groans, his eyes closing for a second before he opens them.

It’s hedonistic, the way both of you are showering him in pleasure. Like you are whores in a brothel focused on his pleasure alone and it makes you want to make this the best experience he has ever had. Moaning around the tip as you suck greedily.

Oberyn reaches down to caress your cheek before he strokes Ellaria’s head. “Fuck. You two - so cock hungry. My little cock drunk whores.” He chuckles and his stomach clenches as you suck him a little deeper.

Your cunt bottoms out around nothing, aching despite the fact that you’ve already cum three times. Feeling like you might never get enough of these two. Your hand pumps what you aren’t sucking on until Ellaria’s clever mouth starts to work back up from his balls.

Oberyn hisses when Ellaria mouths the side of his cock while you work the tip. His dark eyes taking in the sight of both beautiful women and he hisses when you hollow your cheeks. “That’s it. Shit.” He groans when Ellaria slides her tongue higher to tangle with yours as she laps at the slit.

You’ve never kissed someone with a cock in your mouth but now you love it. Enjoying the way he hisses and his hips buck up to thrust into the space that your tongues are twirling around him. Moaning at the lewdness of the moment and wishing you have a video of this incredible night.

"Fuck. You're going to make me cum." Oberyn warns as you and Ellaria push him further to the edge. Your tongue tangles around the head and your hand rolls his balls while Ellaria pumps the rest of his length. "Mierda. I'm going to - fuckkkkk." He groans as he starts to cum, his hot seed hitting yours and Ellaria's lips.

You don’t try to take his cock down your throat, enjoying the way he spurts his seed over both of your faces and chins. Leaning forward when he’s finally done to kick it from Ellaria’s face with a pleased hum while a breathless Oberyn watches.

Oberyn slumps against the bed for a moment, closing his eyes as he relishes in his orgasm, loving the way you and Ellaria lick his cum off each other’s faces. “So fucking pretty.” He coos, reaching out to caress your lips before he caresses Ellaria’s.

You like his praises, smiling at them both while your body just hums at the satisfying thrill of your orgasms. “That was incredible.” You whisper, knowing that you should probably dress and go back to your apartment.

“It was. We would love to have you here again…if you wish.” Ellaria says, stroking your back. You both shift to lay on either side of Oberyn as he holds his arms out for you both to curl into. “My lover wants more of you.” Oberyn chuckles, “so do I.” He leans in to nudge his nose against yours, “join us again.” He murmurs his request.

It will be the easiest request you’ve ever agreed to. Reaching across him to caress Ellaria’s side as you kiss Oberyn’s chest. “As often as you wish.” You promise. No longer just a voyeur, you will be the one to be envied when someone else watches through the windows.

[xoxochb]

percy jackson with a hades daughter please😩

(love your writing btw🩷🩷)

— you must like me for me

warnings: none pairing: percy jackson x daughter of hades a/n: my cabin my cabin my cabin!!!

୨୧ sunshine x grumpy trope my beloved

୨୧ first thing I want to talk about is the short ass tempers of hades kids. I can speak from experience I’ve got the shortest temper ever

୨୧ hades kids can kill upon their will and you would use this to your full advantage if the idiotic percy jackson didn’t prevent you from doing so

୨୧ like I mean some kid could’ve pissed you off over something stupid I’m not even sure— let’s say they took your reading spot even if it’s not really yours but it is because you silently claimed it

୨୧ and you’re angry as FUCK. like I’m talking rising the dead- darkened eyes- fists balled up kind of angry

୨୧ and what kind of boyfriend is percy if he allows you to kill a kid over something stupid? you think, personally, he would be the best. percy on the other hand thinks it’s not morally acceptable

୨୧ he’s also trying to save your rep because in camp hades kids are typically frowned upon because your father being the god of the dead and all they think you’re all weird and emo

୨୧ and percy hates seeing you bullied by the other campers over this so he calms you down before anything happens, successfully keeping the live of the camper who stole your spot

୨୧ anyways let’s talk about when you first met

୨୧ percy was ecstatic about meeting another child of the big three— but you’re absolute resting bitch face scared the shit out of him

୨୧ but when he finally talked to you he realized your personalities wasn’t half as bad as your appearance (not that he thought your appearance was bad— you were gorgeous but horrifying)

୨୧ anyways I wanna do dating hcs now

୨୧ sarcastic 🤝🏼 even more sarcastic

୨୧ IMAGINE LMAO

୨୧ with both you and percy and you’re insane sarcasm you’d be unstoppable, truly. like just talking shit about people all the time I can’t 😭

“oh my gods she’s just the nicest person I’ve ever met!”

“right? so happy and bubbly!”

୨୧ en e ways…

୨୧ I’m not sure if this is just my opinion and it’s probably not cannon but hades kids (along with the apollo kids) have the best relationship with their godly parent so your visits to the underworld are frequent

୨୧ you ended up bringing percy once without realizing the issue your dad had with him

୨୧ long story short he’s not allowed to visit with you anymore

୨୧ and when you take your trips down under percy begs you not to go claiming your dad is such ‘an awful god!’ and he ‘would miss you and cry himself to sleep’ if you left

୨୧ dramatic much?

୨୧ anyways I don’t wanna yap too much but I have more more thing I want to say really quickly is double dates with nico and will because how cute would that be 😣😣

୨୧ I feel like overtime you would make them like every wednesday or something like a weekly thing idk just for funsies

୨୧ but I’ll wrap this up now 10/10 relationship would definitely recommend <33

[teamdilf]

Elgar'nan

I don't actually think they'd do this, but I've been pondering the idea of Elgar'nan kidnapping the inquisitor. It gives him a hostage, potentially keeping the south from getting into his business, on account of the southern chantry not wanting anything to happen to the Herald of Andraste.

I also imagine him being charming and persuasive - on the surface he's kind to the inquisitor, treating them as a guest instead of a prisoner. What he truly wants is to figure out the precise nature of the inquisitor's relationship with Solas, and potentially convince the inquisitor to ally with him. He paints a pretty picture of his plan - they'd be partners, ruling jointly as gods. Perhaps if the inquisitor romanced Solas, he'd promise her she could keep Solas around, "so long as you put him on a leash". He'd try to convince her that slavery is a kinder fate for Solas than any fate Elgar'nan would dole out himself, and maybe Lavellan sees sense in his words when she's emotionally at her lowest and that horrifies her.

Perhaps Rook is tasked with rescuing the inquisitor, and Solas offers his help if the inquisitor vowed to redeem him instead of kill him. Maybe, if romanced, he becomes insistent that they drop everything to rescue his love. Near-reckless in his desperation.

I just think it would be so captivating to have the inquisitor speak to another god-like figure, as someone who is viewed as such a figure in contemporary Thedas. And, I love the idea of a charming villain who thinks he's right; who will kidnap someone but also wine and dine them, and ensure they have pretty clothes to wear.

This is mostly just a thought experiment featuring Iris and maybe it's an AU fic I'll write post-Veilguard, but we know so little about Elgar'nan and it's fun to ponder his role in the game.

[lxdymoon0357]

Idk if your requests are open it not but if it is can you give me some pinjng for Roxanna x fem reader / gen reader? I need more of her 😭

(Honestly, understandable. She is a bit of a goddess...a demonic one, but a goddess nonetheless. Homophobia LGBT ally)

© Writing belongs to me, Lxdymoon0357. Do not plagiarize, but reblogging, liking and commenting is deeply appreciated.

Roxanna Agriche X Fem! Reader Headcanons.

⊈ Rozanna either met you as you were her maid or you were a pet from another noble house. Either way, she had you under her control, doing her dangerous betting every single day. She had you easily wrapped around her perfectly, bloody manicured finger.

⊈ Your life was daily in her hands and she was always careless with it, but you know what you did when you came here; either by force or own desperate situation, but of-course it never scared less not knowig which is your last day.

⊈ Eventually you and her did fall in love and she had you close...Though Lante was horrified at his daughter being in love with a girl, but afterwards he calmed down and let her date you, as long as she'd somehow get a child for him to his lineage continues and Roxanna nonchalantly agrees.

⊈ Level passed!! New Level: You're an Agriche now!

⊈ Of-course you're now also a victim to many of the Agriches, including Dion, Charlotte, Fondaine and possibly others. But it's okay, Sierra adores you, Maria...she is weirdly infatuated, Jeremy is slightly jealous you're taking his sister's attention, but eventually you also become his friend.

⊈ She often feeds your blood to the butterflies as well, so they can recognize you too. Also adding tiny doses of poison into your tea, food, drinks. Has the most expensive furs decorating you with the heaviest security around your room.

⊈ Freedom is basically non-existent with the way she moved you into her room and you didn't go outside for like...three months! (I know it's normal for you nerds, probs. But please be normal right now.) ut yeah, almost zero freedom of going out, your'e free to do yada yada in your room though.

⊈ I know for SURE! Roxanne doesn't allow Dion anywhere near you, you'll easily be his next victim so Dion can see Roxanne's emotions more rawful, Charlotte is just annoyed with you being here, because you're simply BELOW her and you're also one of the favourites of THIS HOUSE?! FUCK YOU!

⊈ Speaking of favourites, you'll be joining them in Lant's "special-favourite children dinner" whenever it happens, maids and butlers and cooks are asked to taste everything in advance so you don't get poisoned by ANYONE. It will rain hell by Roxanna if anything happened.

⊈ Has you in makeout sessions right before bed, her fingers gently groping your tits and tweaking your nips, very gently though...depends if it leads to more or simply just a makeout sessions where you both sleep snuggled against each other, where she wakes up every few hours to make sure you're alive.

⊈ Has made sure you're always as safe as her mum, speaking of her mum. You spend a majority of your free time with Sierra, she likes you though a bit nervous around you two. You have to be super nice and get her to warm up to you and she'll adore you as much as she adores her daughter, likes that someone in this house brings her daughter happiness even if she herself couldn't.

⊈ Lanta, Charlotte, Dion, Maria, Grizelda are weirdly homophobic..yet allies? I don't get it, but imagine them just mocking Roxanne for liking a girl despite being beautiful, but the moment a guy or anyone would try to get near you and the person is dead because they're like "Not Roxanne's little shit, you fucker. I'll fuck you up if you hurt her, she's only ours to hurt" like a messed up family dynamic which is hysterically insane.

[kissporsche]

*looks inside Vegas’s brain*: hmm yep, that’s about the mess I would expect

*looks inside Pete’s brain*: oh jesus christ. what the fuck is going on in there. absolutely not, put it back

[kandicon]

Actually I really wanna write a role reversal gerrymichael au and let me be so, so transparent when I say it is literally just bc I wanna fantasize about the tall, gangly blond man beating monsters to death

Everyone else has the same roles. Mary Keay is still Mary Keay in all her abusive and obsessive glory; Gertrude is still the Archivist.

Vaguely spiral aligned Michael who Does Not Like It. Pretends his connection is a hell of a lot looser than it is.

The only benefit (that Michael thinks of the Spiral) is how he can move around the Institute with relatively little interference and watch, after all, it is hard to behold something that is both nothing and everything and never was all at the same time.

Gerry ran away from home really young and actually succeeded. Spent a few years fucking around and learning what kind of benches are best to sleep on before applying to the Magnus Institute because that's what his dad did. He lied to hell and back on the application, but was hired quickly because of how thoroughly touched by the entities he was (thanks Mary) and Gertrude was running low on assistants. Gerry also felt completely justified in faking stuff and that he was perfectly qualified bc he grew up in a bookshop and how much different could it be (very different, as it turns out).

They first meet each other when Michael is prowling through artefact storage like it was a shopping mall, and pocketing everything he saw that didn't immediately mesmerize him. He was nervous and jumpy as all hell, even though this was not the first time he's done something similar and he's fairly certain Gertrude doesn't care, so when Gerry first spotted him from behind, he was immediately suspicious even before he saw Michael try to shove a lamp into his jacket pocket. This led to an altercation that eventually led to the lamp being accidentally turned on, Michael smashing it to pieces with a hammer Gerry had not realized Michael had, and Gerry suddenly being a lot more consciously aware of the supernatural than he was.

Gerry's mother was still obsessive over Lighteners, and she didn't make an effort to hide what she did, but she didn't actively try to educate Gerry on anything to do with the Fears. So he is fairly knowledgeable on the supernatural, but he doesn't know anything concrete about the Fears themselves and their categorization. The role of a stand by sacrifice instead of an errand boy and heir.

Michael still trusts Gertrude, but this time he knows he shouldn't and hates himself for it. Gerry wants to trust Gertrude, and she does hide him from anything Fears related and behaves around him like she did Michael in cannon, but he just feels something off about her and doesn't like it. She's just a bit too much like his mother for him to let his guard down.

Michael gets referred to by "it/its" pronouns once by Gerry as a teasing joke before Gerry fully knows what he is and is absolutely terrified by how happy the pronouns make his feel. (He thinks, maybe, that the Michael of his childhood liked something similar, too, but everything too far back is all twisted and he doesn't know what has been touched by the Spiral and what hasn't, so he doesn't trust any of it). He/it Michael ftw

At one point Michael just started putting black lipstick on himself because some of Gerry's always stuck to him when they kissed anyways n this gave them plausible deniability. Michael will never admit to the little spiral thrill it gives him when people do a double take upon seeing his face, the black lipstick contrasting literally everything else about his style.

Gabriel attempted to track Michael down exactly once, a few years before he joined the institute. He had heard about Michael's unsavory... Hobby... (<- reckless destruction of artefacts and throwing himself at all monsters and avatars he sees with a murderous rage regardless of their affiliation) but spiral avatars capable of holding a conversation are so few and far between and the Great Twisting was almost prepared, so he thought a meeting would be worth it. He showed up at a cafe Michael frequented one day expecting lovely, but tense, conversation, only to promptly lit on fire (mostly) in the back alley behind the cafe after he introduced himself. Gabriel survived, but some of his clay body still hardens unexpectedly or shows signs of firing from time to time.

Occasionally Michael's eyes will change colors and shapes, so he likes to put contacts in (he used to just use tinted glasses, but after one time of Gerry getting lost in his eyes in the far too literal, not at all romantic, sense, he decided to invest in smth a bit harder to take off and forget about). Unfortunately, this sometimes means other, very much not his original eyes will pop up around his body and in his hair as protest when he puts them in. It's not very fun to have to chase off eyes at 6am, but he does it regardless and complains the whole time about how he shouldn't have to deal with eyes when he very clearly isn't of The Eye.

Gerry: Oh hey you were running pretty late. I was starting to get worried.

Michael, not about to admit he spent an extra thirty minutes to get ready yelling and brandishing a lighter at a door that was following him around like a lost puppy: Ummmmmm I forgot my wallet. :((

[avocado-frog]

Happy Blorbo Blursday!

What is the most embarrassing thing a blorbo or OC of yours has ever done?

Thanks for the ask on this day that is definitely Thursday

I think that kid Logan definitely fell for the vanilla extract thing when he was first starting with cooking. Except instead of being like nine he was almost eighteen. And instead of trying a little sip my man drank the whole ass bottle. Cut to him sobbing on the floor. Lily brings it up every now and then

[animutate]

i havenot stopped feeling depressed sincei saw my fathers mugshot a couple weeks ago. i hadnt seen it or his face in years up to that point id forgotten what he looked like its been taking a toll on me

[sealer-of-wenkamui]

Its all over once i finally write up my analysis of Douman that brings up his role in Abe no Seimei monogatari... legitimately I feel that people calling him an irredeemable villain are much closer to the truth than those trying to claim he actually wants to help people, its just that his evils don't come from nowhere, they're a result of his deep envy of Seimei that practically defines him, we are talking about a guy that went the capital to challenge him, hooked up with his wife just to get access to his secrets, then goaded him into betting his head (while seimei was drunk) and decapitated him simply because he was mad someone could possibly be better than him

[pyrriax]

i think i'll spontaneously combust when i hit 20k posts on this blog. what the hell. (my queue is putting in the work. also the multiple reblogs of the same posts because i have a Point to make.)

[sunmoonjune]

raspberry leaves

pairing: poly!geto suguru x fem!reader x gojo satoru [jjk au]

warnings: jjk au! geto doesn't defect and everything is happy :)) cursing, periods, severe cramps, painkillers and mentions of taking more than you're supposed to (three instead of two), lots of talk of pain, mentions of vomiting, passing out, panic, mentions of death, mentions of burning yourself, probably ooc megumi but he's a kid here (probably gojo too but I can't not write him soft), family au!, megumi tsumiki and the twins are here!, probably taking liberties on how gojo's technique works but oops, this is for the girlies with severe period symptoms :'), major hurt/comfort

word count: 12.5k

a/n: drops this and yells "scatter!" and disappears back into seclusion. I did not proofread this :)

Gojo Satoru has never woken up so terrified in his life. 

It’s a horrifying thing; to wake up lurching from your sheets as the love of your life cries out in panic just a few hours past midnight. For a moment, Satoru thinks he’s dying – or that he should be – because as he rips his sheets away from his legs, racing to his feet with his pulse already roaring in his eardrums, he turns to find Geto Suguru crumbling to his knees. The dark-haired man is the one who shouted, his hands fumbling to grasp another figure, their body limp and hanging useless in Suguru’s arms.

It’s your frame, clutched tight in Suguru’s big hands, that steals the breath from Satoru’s lungs. Ripping any semblance of oxygen right from his chest, the Six Eyes user is left stumbling on his feet to reach his spouses as they crumble to the floor – you limp in Suguru’s grip as you fall unconscious. 

Suguru shouts, a desperate cry of your name as he finally sinks to the bathroom floor, urgently scrambling to cradle your weight against him and support your figure. When he’s settled on the ground, a hand carefully cradling your face, Suguru looks up at Satoru, panic in his features and his heart in his throat. For a tense second, neither man speaks, too terrified to properly ascertain the situation. Then, Satoru chokes out a desperate question as he stumbles into the doorframe, clutching the wood until he swears it could splinter beneath his hands. 

“What happened?” 

But let’s rewind a moment, shall we? 

It starts two hours after midnight – well, it starts long before that, but it’s that moment you finally decide to pull yourself from the sheets and stumble into the bathroom. That moment, the one of shortened breaths and a weak whimper, is the one to incite the inferno that will wake Gojo Satoru in an hour or so. 

You’ve been awake for hours. Sleep was a stubborn thing; an obstinate, pig-headed bastard that wouldn’t allow you the mercy of relief even hours after you’ve been awake clutching your stomach and trying desperately not to cry. 

It’s agony. Beginning in your left side and rippling through the entirety of your stomach and down your legs, the cramping sensation seizes you with another tight fist and squeezes. It’s agony, and it’s been keeping you awake for hours. 

Your period is merciless. 

You’ve always had terrible cramps. That was a notion you had grown used to when you were young. Painkillers could only do so much, and you hated to have to take as many as you did just to function near normally. The first day of shark week was always terrible, but this? This was pure agony, and you were nearing your breaking point. 

It festered for hours in your stomach, sending cramps through your form in catastrophic waves and pushing against your belly until you thought you were truly going to die. The urge to use the restroom is horrible, but each time you drag yourself to the ensuite bathroom, you sit there as another wave of agony nearly pulls you to your knees. You’re sweaty and tired, figure quivering as another rippling cramp seizes your legs, and you’ve never wanted anything more than the sweet relief of slumber. 

Nothing seems to help. 

A hot water bottle is pressed against your stomach, the liquid inside near boiling as you clutch it against your bare skin – a bad idea, you know, but the sensation of the burn is nowhere near as terrible as the cramps. You’ve downed three painkillers a few hours ago, probably another bad idea, but you’re desperate now. 

You don’t want to wake Suguru or Satoru. It’s a Sunday night, and you know they both have work early tomorrow morning. They have to get the kids to school too. The four of your children always pile into one of your husband’s nice cars just a few hours past dawn. The kids get dropped off at primary school on their way to work, since it’s just around the corner from Jujutsu High. 

You can’t tear their few precious hours of sleep away from them. 

Not for this. 

There’s nothing they can do – nothing you can do but sit and try to ride out the waves of crippling agony until they finally stop. 

You’ve done this before. These cramps aren’t new. You can deal with them on your own. 

Can’t you?

But as you repress a broken sob, pulling yourself away from the silk of your sheets and into the bathroom once more, you’re not quite sure. 

When you reach the ensuite bathroom, another cramp surges through you and the tears you’ve been desperately withholding finally burst forth. Pressing your weight into the wall as the door slides shut, you click the lock and finally allow yourself to crumple. Your head pushes into your knees as you sob, trying to keep your cries quiet and muffled against your hand as the other clutches the hot water bottle against the throb of your stomach. 

You’re tired. You’re tired and you’re in so much pain that your fingers tremble and your legs shake. It’s awful, and you just want to sleep. 

But your uterus must hate you, because your stomach lurches and you scramble to lean over the toilet as you dry heave. You’ve never vomited on your period, but it sure does feel like you will. 

Your skin itches. From the sweat or the general grime, you don’t know, but you hate it. Your chest shakes with another sob and your fists squeeze tight as you whine out a horrible sound of agony. It’s too much and you wish it would just stop. Leaning back against the wall, you sigh out a choked sound as you curl into yourself. 

“Stop,” you whine brokenly, too defeated to even understand who you’re pleading to. “Please stop.” 

Geto Suguru wakes up a few moments later. 

He doesn’t know what pulls him from slumber at first. His brow furrows as consciousness returns, a deep breath leaving his nose as he sighs and takes in the feeling of body weight pressed into his chest. It’s a muscular figure, long and tall, so it must be Satoru. He’s pressed into Suguru’s stomach, body curled small in a near comical way as he attempts to tuck himself beneath Suguru’s chin. The long-haired man nearly huffs a chuckle as he pries open his tired eyes to see his partner. 

Suguru runs a loving hand over the mess of pale white strands that fall into Satoru’s eyes, his lips quirking upwards softly as he smiles. Satoru nuzzles closer in his sleep, letting out a happy sigh as Suguru runs his nails through the other’s undercut. Then Suguru shifts, turning over his shoulder slowly to find you as his hand reaches out to pull you closer.

But you’re not there. 

Suguru startles. Jolting silently as his heart skips a frightened beat, the sorcerer’s eyes rip open as they dilate. His hand finds an empty bed, the sheets cold and the imprint of your figure long lost. Suguru carefully untangles himself from his lover’s long limbs, his long, dark hair falling into his eyes as he sits upright. 

“Baby?” his deep, tired voice rumbles in question. Where are you? He nearly asks, heart pounding in his chest. Are the kids okay? 

Suguru knew it was weird you had chosen to sleep on the edge of the bed tonight. You’re usually more than happy to bury yourself in between them, cuddling close and nuzzling into their chests as you try to pull yourself even tighter into their embrace. 

But last night, you gently pushed Suguru into your place, offering him a wave of your hand and a lame excuse as to why you wanted to sleep on the outside. Something about not wanting to sleep yet, he remembers. 

He waits a moment, hoping you’ve just gotten up to use the restroom and you’ll return to them soon. The sound of Satoru’s quiet breaths echo through the space, and has to fill the long seconds by tracing his fingers over his lover’s back. Tracing gentle lines over the defined muscles, Suguru sighs softly and tries to calm his racing pulse. 

A minute passes. Then another. And one more – until Suguru isn’t sure how long he’s been waiting. 

Then Suguru cannot resist the swell of panic that ripples through his stomach. 

His heart lurches in his chest as he swings his legs over the side of the bed, too panicked to offer Satoru more than a hushed sound and a stroke over his back when he tiredly mumbles in protest. 

“‘M just gettin’ up for a sec,’” he mumbles quietly, swallowing back the lump in his throat when he sees the light in the bathroom on. “I’ll be back, love.” 

Satoru grumbles something else, but is soothed when Suguru presses a gentle kiss to his brow. 

“M’kay,” Satoru sighs, easily falling back asleep as he snuggles into the warmth Suguru left behind on the bed. If he wasn’t so worried, Suguru would smile, his heart clenching tight in his chest as he watches Satoru curl into his spot with a soft sound. 

When Suguru stands, adjusting his sweats as he quietly makes his way to the bathroom, he pulls his hair from his eyes. Brushing the strands over his bare shoulder, he sighs as he fiddles for a hair tie in his pocket. He doesn't find one, so he simply pushes the dark strands back from his brow, letting them fall behind him and settle against his bare back. 

You’ve always liked it when his hair is loose anyway. 

Suguru knocks on the bathroom door first. It’s quiet, but you should be able to hear it. When you don’t respond, Suguru frowns and tries again. Knocking gently once more, he swallows as another wave of panic curls in his stomach. 

“Sweetheart?” he tries quietly, voice still rumbling deeply from the slumber he was pulled from. “You’ve been in there a while, honey. Are you alright?” 

Still, you don’t respond. 

You want to. Of course you want to. It’s Suguru, and you don’t want to worry him. 

But the waves of agonizing cramps have stolen your voice. All you can do is sit still and breathe. You feel utterly useless. There’s nothing you can do but control the slow pace of your breaths in a desperate attempt to distract yourself from the crippling sensation radiating from your stomach. 

You want to respond – tell him you’re alright, tell him something, but the agony seals your lips shut. It’s horrible and another wave of tears spill from your tired eyes. You hate it. You wish you would stop crying; it’s not helping and it only makes you feel weak. 

“Baby? I’m gettin’ worried.” 

All you can manage is a sad, weak sound in response. It leaves your lips in more a sob than a hum, and you muffle the tears that shiver through you after. 

“Honey!” Suguru murmurs worriedly, trying to twist the handle of the door, only to curse when he discovers it’s locked. “What’s going on? Are you okay?” 

He shifts on his feet, lifting a hand to pull on the strands on his hair to soothe some of his panic. The sound you manage in response is another broken hum, and it only worsens the thundering pulse of Suguru’s heart. His gut twists as he tries the knob again, as if a few seconds will have changed the status of the lock. 

You whine and Suguru swears his heart cracks. His head presses against the door as his eyes squeeze shut, fist still closed around the handle. 

“Can you open the door f’me, sweetheart?” he murmurs desperately. “‘M really worried about you.” 

Your eyes close, the watery burn rendering them useless as you sniffle. You huff around another breath of pain, pushing your head further into your knees. Trembling softly as your skin flushes, you battle against the waves of agony and the flash of heat that makes you feel sickly. Another wave of nausea ripples in your gut, and you remember how awful you must look. 

Your hair is plastered against your head and your neck and you must look a mess. Wearing a pair of oversized sweats and one of Suguru’s shirts, you feel utterly gross. More than anything you want to open the door and let Suguru take you in his arms. Cuddling into his firm chest and feeling his big arms wrap around you would probably feel nice, but you’re all too aware of how sickly you must look. 

You don’t want him to see you like this: sweaty, messy and sick as you curl in on yourself as you weep through another terrible cramp. You just want to sleep – you want it to stop, everything needs to stop. 

Suguru hums out another question, but you don’t really hear it. It’s not until you hear the lilt of panic in his voice and his voice fiddling with the handle of the door do you manage to find your voice. 

“Sugu…” 

He startles. Head darting up to the door in front of him, Suguru breathes a sigh of relief and chokes out your name. 

“Open the door, darling,” he whispers softly. “Please…” 

You shake your head even though you know he can’t see it. Frowning as you sniffle, you lick your lips to taste salt and the disgusting hint of snot. You’re a mess, and you don’t want him to see you. 

“No, Sugu,” you manage to mutter, head knocking back to rest against the wall as you continue to focus on breathing through your mouth. You visibly shiver through another cramp, this time seizing and whining as it echoes through your legs. 

Suguru bites down on his lip, feeling another sliver of his heart crack at the broken sound of your voice. It pains him, your defeated sigh. He desperately wants to comfort you, to bring you into his chest and kiss your tears away. His hands ache to touch your skin, to feel the warmth he knows by heart. Closing his eyes as he rests his forehead against the wood of the door, Suguru sighs and swallows as he speaks again. 

“Why not?” he murmurs worriedly, voice clipping words from fatigue pulling at his figure. “I need t’know you’re alright, my love.” 

“Don’t wan’ you t’see me.”

Suguru’s head tilts and the lump in his throat swells. Heart clenching sadly, one of his hands lifts to rest on the door, as if he can reach you on the other side if he tries hard enough. He knows he can get through this door if he really wanted. It would be too easy for him to splinter the frame with his strength alone, and he has more than one curse at his disposal that could pick a lock smoothly. 

It’s the sound of your voice that holds him back. 

You’re so… tired. You’re broken whisper echoes through the wooden door with a sad coo, and it makes Suguru’s chest ache. 

“My sweet girl…” Suguru whispers, fingers trailing across the wood like they’re desperate to stroke across your cheek. “Why don’t you want me to see you?” 

You frustratedly sigh, cursing the tears that continue to track down your cheeks. No matter what you do, they keep dripping over your skin in tiny rivulets, staining your face with tracks of dried salt. You wipe them away but they’re quickly replaced by another stream. 

You just want to sleep. 

“I don’t feel good, Sugu,” you sigh tiredly, voice quivering around tears. It’s pathetic – how watery you sound. You wish you were stronger. “I look bad and I don’t want wan’ t’keep you an’ Toru awake.” 

You don’t feel good? He nearly questions. Why didn’t you wake me? 

But all he does is sigh softly, fists clenching against the door. For a moment he contemplates waking Satoru, knowing you probably won’t be able to resist them both. Though, when he turns over his shoulder, Suguru sees the bags beneath his lover’s eyes and the tired slump of his form in their sheets. 

Satoru needs his sleep. It’s difficult enough for him to find slumber when the Six Eyes strains him dry. 

Suguru lets him rest. 

He murmurs your name again, his eyes closing as he continues to rest against the door. 

“I’m in love with you, you know?” Suguru sighs sweetly, his lips lifting slightly to reveal a fond smile. “You could never ‘look bad’ to me, my darling.” 

Shifting on his feet and looking up at the ceiling, his shoulders sag as he worries. What if you don’t open the door? He’s considering settling on the floor with his back against the door when he whispers again. 

“And you don’t need t’worry about keepin’ me awake, alright? I want you t’come to me when you’re not feeling good.” 

He pauses once, dropping his hand from the knob as he breathes. 

“I worry about you, honey,” he finishes. “I just need to know you’re okay.” 

You sniffle, feeling the cramp finally seep away to nothing. They’re not over, you can feel another wave rising from beneath the last, but at least they offer you a single moment to reach up and twist the lock. 

It’s too much for you to handle alone. 

You want to bury yourself in Suguru’s strong arms and weep as the pain shivers through you. If there’s nothing you can do to soothe the agony, then at least you won’t be alone. 

“Okay.”

Suguru hears the lock click. 

Gasping softly, he pulls himself upright and reaches down to grip the handle of the door with a skip of his heart. He was pondering waiting outside the door in the fading light of the moon when you whispered the tired word. His chest aches when he twists the knob, pulling the door open to reveal your figure.

You’re curled on the floor, calves crossed and legs pulled into your chest as you bury your head into your knees. Your arms wrap around yourself, one hand clutching the hot water bottle pressed tightly to your stomach. 

Suguru frowns, his heart thumping sadly as you weep out another broken sound. His entire body aches in a way he cannot describe, physically pained at the choked sounds of agony leaving your lips. He’s already on his knees at your side when you lift your head, looking up at him through your tears and your lip quivering in a way he knows you cannot control. 

He’s never seen you look so hurt. 

“Oh, sweetheart…” he coos quietly, putting the pieces together as you shiver through another wave of crippling cramps, hand squeezing tight around your leg – your period. “You’re not alright.” 

“No,” you weep, shaking your head with watery eyes leaking salty droplets down your cheeks, and you suck in a shaking breath as your fists clench. Your brow furrows as your eyelids squeeze shut, unable to mask the pain as it ripples through you. Suguru’s face softens into an expression of pain, frowning sadly. You have a high pain tolerance for your period cramps – he knows that. You’ve had painful periods your whole life, and he and Satoru have seen you conceal the agony in your features for years. 

This is a knife to his heart. 

You can’t conceal the sweat on your brow, nor the tremble of your fingers and the painful gasp of breath you suck in when the pain returns tenfold. 

“It hurts, Sugu…” 

“I know, I’m sorry,” he whispers sadly, desperately wishing there’s something he can do to stall the agony. “C’mere, honey.”

Suguru’s mouth twists into an expression of pain, and he carefully wraps an arm around your shoulders. Pulling you away from the wall, the dark-haired man maneuvers you into his chest as he sits onto the floor. You twist into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his frame as you weep softly into his bare chest, caring little for the tears that stain his skin. Suguru could care less. He’s far too worried about the expression plastered onto your features and the shiver that trembles through you. 

“How long have you been up?” he whispers as he cradles you in his lap, hand stroking over your hair and strong arm wrapping around you. 

You shake your head and Suguru’s frown deepens – if it’s even possible. 

“Haven’t slept yet.” 

Suguru’s hair falls into his eyes as he leans down to press a gentle kiss between your brows. He stays there, breathing through his noses as he continues to lay tiny kisses to your forehead. His eyes screw shut, hand stroking over your cheek as you bury yourself deeper into his embrace. 

Your skin is warm, flushed with heat and your hair sticks to your forehead in a way Suguru knows must make you feel sickly. He carefully strokes the strands away and kisses the skin beneath with a soft sigh. 

“Have you been awake all night?” he finally whispers, voice deep and quietly sad. “With cramps like this?”

You nod into his chest, wincing again and closing your eyes as you sob through another agonizing cramp. Your legs shake as you tuck them into yourself together, trying desperately to push the hot water bottle deeper into your skin. 

“Oh, baby…” he sighs, leaning back to rest against the wall and pull you back into him. He strokes another hand across your face, thumbing the space between your brows when he sees the way they’re scrunched. “Why didn’t you wake me?” 

You sigh and breathe a few times to steady yourself, slowly loosening your fists when Suguru pries your fingers open to intertwine his own around yours. He pulls your hands into his chest, tucking them by his heart so you can feel the pulse of his heart. He hopes you don’t notice how quick it’s beating. He’s still worried. Suguru cannot help the way his heart lurches when you wince. As if each throb of agony is his own, Suguru buries his face closer to your own, clutching onto your hand and not faltering when you tighten your grip to counter the waves of pain echoing through you. 

“You’ve got work in the morning,” you pant quietly, voice still watery and weak. “And you an’ Toru gotta’ take the kids.” 

“Honey…” he sighs sweetly. “You’re in pain… I want you t’wake me if you’re in pain, sweetheart. No amount of sleep could soothe me if you’re hurt and alone.” 

You manage a hum in response, face still screwed shut and Suguru frowns when you muffle another sob as a cramp seizes you once more. 

“Okay, baby… Okay,” he whispers, rocking you into him a little in an attempt to distract you. Now is not the time for a lecture, he supposes.“You’re alright, darling. You’re gonna be alright.” 

He hates the sound of your tears. 

When you shudder through another agonizing sound, Suguru’s face crumples. He’s never felt so useless. You’re in agony, and he can do nothing to fix it. 

“You took your painkillers?” 

You nod again, weeping into his chest and squeezing his hand tight. 

“Three,” you mumble tiredly, focusing on the feeling of Suguru’s warm, bare chest pressed against your skin. It’s grounding and you don’t want to move. “They aren’t working.”

“How long ago?” 

He doesn't want to pester you with questions, but he’s desperately pulling at strings, hoping one will grant him the solution to your pain. 

“Midnight,” you manage. You wince again, and Suguru peppers kisses along your hairline, gently hushing you. You curl tighter into yourself, desperately huffing as the pain continues to swell higher. It feels like it will break at any moment, but it just… doesn’t. The agony continues to rise, as if there is no limit to its torment. The cramping sensation just comes back again and again, until you’re sure that there’s something wrong. How can a period be so painful? 

“It hurts so bad, Sugu,” you cry, reaching the end of your tether. You’re desperate for the ache to stop, but it feels like there’s no  point of end in sight. “I just want it to stop…” 

Suguru feels his stomach twist, heart crying out in a pattern of your name. He pulls you tighter, a wave of his own tears swelling behind his eyes. Your cries chip at his heart, pieces of his soul falling apart in your agony. He wishes he could do something – use some kind of technique to null the pain, to soothe you, anything. 

“I know, honey,” he soothes, cradling you closer and rubbing his finger over your cheek as he murmurs into your hairline. “I’m sorry I can’t do anything more. I’m sorry I can’t take this from you.” 

You shake your head, clutching him tight as you attempt to focus on your breaths again. Hand wrapped tightly around his own, you try to use his touch as a grounding sensation. Eventually, the lulling motion of his finger over your cheek and his lips at your hairline soothe some of the tension beneath your skin. You relax into his touch despite the continuous waves of cramps still panging through your stomach. 

“Just stay,” you weep, lifting your other hand from your stomach to clutch behind Suguru’s head. You hold onto his neck, burying your fingers in his soft hair and desperately inhale his familiar scent. Suguru is familiar – he’s safe. “Please…”

You don’t have to worry about anything as long as Suguru and Satoru are around. 

“Always, sweetheart,” he whispers against you, dropping the hand at your cheek to press your hot water bottle into your stomach for you. “Always. You don’t have t’ask.” 

 His large hand keeps your bottle in place, spreading across your stomach and rubbing soothing circles into your waist with his thumb. His hand is big enough to settle on your stomach and the fabric of your hot water bottle. 

Suguru hates this. He hates seeing you in pain. He hates that all he can do is sit and press delicate kisses to your hairline as you writhe in agony. It physically pains him to be unable to help – to have to watch as one of the loves of his life suffers. 

Suguru buries his nose into your hair and kisses you once more, whispering sweet words of encouragement and humming in an attempt to distract you. He loves you so much, and he hopes you know that. 

“You’re doing so well, my darling.”  

Eventually, the wave passes, and you limply release your intense grip on his fingers and relax into his hold. It’s a slow process. Finally succumbing to some brief glimpse of exhaustion, you slip loosely into Suguru’s hold and trust him to catch you. There will be another cramp soon, but at least this one is over. You breathe out a sigh and look up at Suguru with tears on your lashes. 

Strands of his dark hair fall into his eyes, and Suguru has never looked more beautiful to you. Sitting on the bathroom floor with you three hours past midnight, no shirt and a loose pair of sweats on his hips (ones he’s not sure are his own), and Suguru has never looked so endearing. The way he looks down at you, bangs dangling in front of his dark eyes and full lips leaning down to kiss your face gently; he’s princely. 

Your heart finally slows to an acceptable pace as Suguru leans down, and you close your eyes as he lays a soft kiss to one of your eyelids. His full lips peck sweetly against one, then he leans away to kiss the other. Your eyes well with tears again, but this time you think they’re for a different reason. 

“Hi,” he whispers sweetly, lips lifting to show you that tiny smile of his that makes your heart do funny things. You’re too tired to offer much more than a sigh and a quirk of your lips, but Suguru is grateful for the expression all the same. 

“Hi, Sugu.” 

“Are you feeling any better?” 

You shake your head, sighing quietly as you shift.

“Not really.”

Suguru frowns again, and you’re tempted to lift your thumbs to pull his lips upwards again. Suguru looks so much prettier when he smiles. 

“I’m sorry, honey,” he whispers. “Do you wanna get off the floor, at least? The bed’s much more comfortable and Toru’s gonna start worrying soon.”

You figure now is the best time to try moving, so you nod. There’s probably only a few minutes between these waves of terrible cramps, so you’ll take the moment you have to get back into bed. 

“M’kay,” you sigh tiredly. Suguru's expression softens for a reason you don’t understand, but the sorcerer fondly smiles as he thinks of the same sound Satoru had made just minutes before. 

“Alright, love. Let’s get you up, alright?”

You nod again, allowing Suguru to unwind his limbs from yours. He softly chuckles when you whine as his fingers unlace from your own, but readjusts his grip to carefully pull you to stand. He holds his other hand out, tenderly helping you stand. 

“Careful…” he whispers. “Go slow, baby.” 

Your head spins as you stand and you lift a hand to press against your temple. The rolling tide of nausea in your stomach had quelled for the time being, but the tremble of your legs is still too apparent. You step forward shakily, reaching out to grasp Suguru’s outstretched hand with a grateful smile. He returns the look with soft eyes and nods sweetly as he allows you to step out of the bathroom first. 

When he’s certain you can stand on your own, Suguru turns over his shoulder to turn off the bathroom light and shut the door. 

But he only gets so far. 

Suddenly, you inhale sharply. Freezing in place, your body curls inwards on itself as a blinding swell of cramps overtakes your form. This one is sharp and crippling, radiating down your legs until even your calves feel weak. Your body is suddenly too hot, and the air is far too cold. Shivers trickle down your spine and you feel that all too familiar bolt of stifling panic strike through your chest. It runs through the entirety of your figure, sizzling beneath your skin and striking each nerve it passes. You feel that terrible curl of your stomach and the waves of oncoming panic filter through you.

You sway on your feet. 

Something’s wrong. And it’s making you panic. 

You open your mouth, lip quivering as you attempt to croak out a plea of Suguru’s name, but nothing comes. Some tired, broken whine leaves your lips instead – a desperate cry for help, for Suguru.

When Suguru turns around, head whipping over his shoulder sharply, he expects to see you headed towards his side of the bed. Instead, he’s met with your body swaying slightly as you pant and shiver. Suguru thinks his heart stops. 

Then your body stills, and you crumple. 

“Baby!” 

Suguru throws himself forward, just managing to grab your figure as it goes limp. He sways, shifting your weight into his arms and panicking as you continue to sink into the floor. Your body is dead weight in his hands, still shivering but cold and unmoving. 

He’s going to be sick. 

His stomach curls as bile spills onto the back of his tongue, and Suguru can hear his heart pound in his ears. The lump is back in his throat, swelling until he can barely suck in a desperate breath to calm his panicked heart. Fuck, he’s never been so scared. 

“Baby, oh fuck!” he cries, voice no longer quiet and delicate. Suguru openly shouts, desperately trying to carefully maneuver you to the floor, but his mind is screaming thousands of things at him at once. All he can hear is the roaring in his eardrums. His eyes scan over your limp figure and Suguru swears his heart cracks. He can feel it; deep within his chest, a splinter finally cleaves open. 

“Oh my god, okay,” Suguru chokes out, carefully cradling you as he sinks to his knees. “You’re alright, okay? I’ve got you, honey.”

He doesn’t know what to do. His heart is pounding and his soul is openly weeping. There are tears welling in his eyes and dragging down the pristine skin of his cheeks. 

Suguru doesn't know what to do. 

“Okay,” he whispers frightfully. “Okay…”

You’re laying on your back, facing the ceiling, and the way your blank expression stares back at him makes him nauseous. 

“Sweetheart?” he calls carefully, brushing a hand over your cheek to push hair away from your face. “Baby, c’mon…” 

You don’t respond. There’s not even a twitch in your brow or a flick of your fingers. You’re unconscious. Suguru’s heart accelerates again, pounding until he thinks it might burst from his bony rib cage. He turns over his shoulder with a broken cry, calling for the one person he so urgently needs. 

“Satoru!” 

His voice is panicked, shouted with a guttural cry and he thinks it might echo through the house, but Suguru vaguely hopes he doesn't wake the kids. 

“Satoru, wake up!”

But Satoru is already awake. 

Lurching forward in the bed, the Six Eyes user is already throwing the sheets away from his legs as he scans the room. His technique is activated, and Suguru can feel the familiar curtain of Infinity wrap around his body. 

“Suguru?” Satoru calls as he stands, his body tense and prepared to fight. “What happened? Are you alright?” 

Suguru doesn’t have the chance to respond, because Satoru steps forward and his crystalline eyes find his lover’s hunched figure crouched in the doorway of the bathroom, bent over the body of their wife. You’re limp on the floor, hair sprawled out beneath you as Suguru cradles your head and glances up at his partner with desperate, fearful eyes. 

Satoru thinks he’s dying. 

It’s the only possible explanation for the lack of oxygen in his lungs and the stuttered pulse of his heart. His legs wane at his knees, nearly propelling him into the floor, but Satoru manages to keep himself upright as he throws his hands forward to brace himself on the bathroom doorway. 

“What…?” Satoru whispers breathily, voice uncharacteristically quiet – uncharacteristically weak. “What happened?” 

His Six Eyes are activated, flickering over every crevice of your form. They’re urgent, desperate to find the source of your pain. When they find nothing, Satoru swallows back a sound of desperation. 

“She passed out,” Suguru whispers plainly, panic evident in the quiver of his voice. “She started her period early, Toru. She’s in so much pain…”

Satoru feels his knees wane again. His heart can’t take much more of this. She’s in pain? His soul cries. 

“She’s been laying on the bathroom floor crying,” his lover mumbles, stroking a hand over your cheekbone as a tear drips into his mouth. “I shouldn’t have asked her t’get up – she was weak and I didn’t think –”

“Suguru.” 

The dark-haired sorcerer stops. Lifting his head to stare up at Satoru, Suguru frowns. 

“This isn’t your fault, Suguru,” Satoru whispers, trying desperately to keep himself calm. His heart is in his throat and his pulse roars, but he cannot allow himself to weaken. Suguru needs him – you need him. 

“She’s not waking up…”

Satoru sucks in a breath, his hands curling into the doorframe and gripping the wood until he thinks it will splinter beneath his grip. And it might. Satoru has to be mindful of the strength he uses. 

‘She’s not waking up.’ The phrase echoes through his head until it’s the only thing he can process. You’re not waking up. His wife isn’t waking up. 

“Is she…” Satoru doesn't even know if he can say what he wants to know – what he needs to know. The words make him ill. “Is she breathing?” 

Suguru chokes out a desperate sound. He hadn’t even considered…

And he doesn't want to. 

His hand seizes one of yours, wrapping tightly around your fingers as he pulls it into his chest as he did before. He pleads for you to wake up and feel his heart pulse against your fingers again, just as you had minutes ago. He delicately thumbs over your pulse point, hand sliding down your neck where he cradles your cheek. 

Suguru openly weeps when the thumping beat of your heart races beneath his fingers in greeting. 

“Yeah…” he sobs out weakly, pushing his forehead into your chest. “Yeah, she’s breathing.” 

Satoru sags in relief.

“Okay,” he covers his mouth with one of his palms, trying to suppress the broken sound that nearly leaves him. “Okay, that’s good.” 

Before either man can ascertain what to do, there's rustling at the doorway. It’s a quiet sound, just a soft coo and the creak of the door as it slides open. Satoru’s head whips around, his fingers twitching to activate his technique when he falters. 

Because seven year old Fushiguro Megumi stands in the doorway: his son. 

Megumi’s clutching a plush dog, one that looks remarkably familiar to his Divine Dogs. The soft, dark fur is cradled in his hands as he hugs the stuffed animal to his chest. The plush nearly conceals him entirely, and his dark, spiky hair pokes out over the red mark on the dog’s forehead. It’s a matching toy – the dark one was a gift from Suguru while the white counterpart came from Satoru. They were presents (custom-made plushies) ordered by his fathers when Megumi successfully summoned his Divine Dogs for the first time. 

Satoru still whines when Megumi prefers the dark stuffed animal to the white one. But Satoru doesn't know that Megumi snuggles the alabaster-coated dog when he’s gone on long missions. The boy barely goes anywhere without it until his father comes home. 

“What’s goin’ on?” Megumi tiredly mumbles, one of his hands lifting to rub at his eyes as he yawns. His too big shirt, one of Satoru’s shirts from their youth, hangs over his frame and covers his knees. You were the one to tuck your son into bed last night, and Satoru doesn’t have the moment to fondly think of his boy asking to wear one of his dad’s shirts to bed. 

Satoru sucks in a quiet breath, quickly glancing over his shoulder at Suguru. His husband is still on the bathroom floor, bent over your unconscious figure, but he looks up at Satoru with a silent nod. He’s alright. You’re alright. 

Satoru sighs and turns back to Megumi, suddenly glad the ensuite bathroom is hidden from the doorway to their bedroom. He doesn't want Megumi to see his mother unconscious, or his fathers’ panic. He doesn’t want Megumi to see him scared. Satoru is his father – he needs to show his son that everything is going to be alright. 

Swallowing down his tempered fear, Satoru tries to conceal the quiver of his voice when he responds to his son. 

“It’s –” Satoru stops. He can’t say ‘it’s nothing.’ Because it’s not nothing; and he won’t lie to his son. “It’s alright, Megumi.”

That’s what he decides to say instead. Satoru breathes through his nose deeply as he tries not to turn back over his shoulder to check on you again. 

“Mama’s just having some cramps, she’ll be okay.” 

Megumi nods. He knows what Satoru means, because Geto Suguru would be damned before he raised a son that thinks menstruation was ‘gross.’ Megumi doesn’t know everything – he’s still a kid, afterall. He does know, however, that his mother is plagued with terrible pain once a month, and that it’s completely natural to talk about it. 

Megumi toddles on his feet, the fatigue of the early morning hour making him uncharacteristically soft. He’s usually quite stoic for a kid, exhibiting the same, blank sort of look impassively. But no matter how quiet, you and the boys are well-adept at deciphering your kid’s feelings by now. 

With sleep tugging at his eyes, Megumi paws at his tired lids and yawns sweetly. Shifting his balance again, the boy looks up at Satoru with a tiny, sweet frown.

“Mama’s hurting?” he pouts, bottom lip sticking out slightly. His fists tighten around his stuffed dog, eyes shifting around Satoru to try to get a glimpse of you. Fortunately, Suguru has already readjusted you in his arms and you’re both hidden in the ensuite bathroom. 

“Yeah…” Satoru coughs to conceal the tremor of his voice. “Yeah, Mama’s hurting a little. But she’s strong, remember? She’ll be alright, her cramps will go away soon.” 

He doesn’t know if his words are an attempt to convince Megumi or himself. 

 From behind Satoru, Suguru strokes another thumb over your cheekbone. He inhales a shaking breath as he feels the frightful warmth of your skin. 

“C’mon…” he whispers in the tiny space that separates you. “Wake up, sweetheart. Let me see those pretty eyes again.” 

Swallowing thickly, Suguru’s throat bobs as a tear begins to leak down his cheek. 

“Please.” 

He’s lost. Suguru doesn’t know what to do other than count the seconds since you’ve gone still in his arms. Each one feels longer than the last, but Suguru continues to count them. He doesn’t know why he does it. Perhaps some part of him thinks there is a certain point at which he’ll need to call for help. Is there a distinct period of time that has to pass before you need medical attention? 

Suguru curses himself for not paying enough attention to Shoko’s basic first-aid lessons. 

Satoru’s head flicks over his shoulder, crystalline-blue eyes finding your face as his heart clenches again. He’s conflicted. More than anything, he wants to drop to his knees at your side, just as Suguru has. He wants to clutch your remaining hand and feel the pulse of your heart as a reminder that you’re still there – still breathing. His heart hurts; torn between lingering at your side and comforting his son.

But then Satoru remembers the way you look at your kids. He recalls the fond crease of your eyes when you beam down at them, smiles shining and hands drawing them into you for an embrace. You love your kids more than anything, even though you’ve only had them for a few years now. Even though they’re not your biological kids, even though they’re not babies, and despite not even wanting children before them; they’re your pride and joy. 

Satoru finds the strength within him to smile fondly. He knows you would be pushing him in Megumi’s direction if you had any semblance of consciousness right now. 

Satoru tries not to frown at the reminder of your state. 

Turning on his feet, Satoru steps away from the door, even as his heart cries out for him to return to your side. The remainder of his heart calls for his son – his boy, who is beginning to worry about his mother. It’s evident in the way Megumi shifts on his feet, fiddling with the soft fur of his stuffed pup. 

When Satoru drops to his knees in front of Megumi, he spreads his arms wide in an invitation. He doesn’t expect Megumi to accept; he rarely does. Satoru is affectionate, it’s a sentiment clear as day, and Megumi usually prefers to avoid physical touch. He’s shy that way. 

So Satoru is fondly surprised when Megumi toddles tiredly on his feet as he leans into his father’s embrace. Wrapping his arms tight around his son, Satoru stands from the floor with his heart beginning to return to a normal pace. Having Megumi in his arms is a comfort that soothes some of his rampaging nerves. The knowledge that the rest of his family is safe is a notion that eases some of the tension in his shoulders. Satoru knows he won’t find sleep for the rest of the night if he doesn’t peek into the girl’s room later to ensure they’re sleeping peacefully. 

“It’s alright, Gumi,” Satoru whispers softly, stroking a hand through the spiky strands of the boy’s hair. Megumi rests his head on Satoru’s shoulder with a sigh. “Why did you wake up so early, bud?” 

Megumi wraps an arm around Satoru’s neck, the other still cradling his pup between them. He closes his eyes and sighs sleepily once more as he mumbles in response. 

“Heard Dad yell,” he tiredly whispers. He fiddles with a strand of Satoru’s white hair before he sheepishly continues. “I was scared…”

Satoru tries his hardest not to tease the boy. He knows it’s in his nature to make light of situations with humor, but Satoru also understands that this, perhaps, is not the time. Despite wanting to make Megumi feel better by laughing off the problem, Satoru also remembers the horrible strike of panic that had bolted through him when he heard Suguru yell. 

Waking up to Suguru crying out for you as you collapsed was horrifying, and Satoru can only imagine how frightening it was for Megumi. 

“Oh Gumi, I’m sorry,” Satoru whispers, rocking on his feet in an attempt to comfort the boy. Even though Megumi isn’t a baby, Satoru cannot help the instinctive sway of his feet as he runs a hand through his hair. “Dad didn’t mean to shout, pup. He was just worried about Mom.” 

Megumi nods softly, snuggling closer to Satoru’s chest in a way that makes the father’s heart ache. 

“Can I… Can I help?” Megumi quietly questions, words spoken only for his father to hear. “Mom always makes me feel better when I’m sick.” 

Megumi mumbles something else; something that sounds like ‘don’t wan’ mom t’feel bad,’ but it’s muffled into Satoru’s neck and he barely catches it. 

Satoru smiles despite the panic still roaring in his chest. The way Megumi calls you ‘mom’ and Suguru ‘dad’ has always made him a little emotional. It took more than a year for Megumi to truly grow comfortable in your makeshift family, but eventually the boy’s cautious exterior melted away into what he really was: a kid looking for a home – a family. He was abandoned for God’s sake, Satoru knows the kid was guarded when he found him. And he had every right to be. 

But in just a few short years, Megumi has begun to call Tsumiki and the twins his sisters and on rare occasions, he’ll call Satoru his father. However, he knows those nights will always end in Satoru smothering him with affections and playful teases so he refrains from doing it often. Satoru does not take offense; he knows Megumi is shy. 

“Yeah, she takes good care of us, huh?” Satoru murmurs fondly as he rubs a hand over his son’s back. 

Before Satoru can reassure Megumi further, he’s interrupted when Suguru lets out a relieved sound over his shoulder. It’s a strange sort of combination of a sob and a gasp, but Satoru hears it all the same. 

“Sweetheart…?” Satoru hears Suguru call, voice brighter but still wavering through the short syllables. 

There’s a muffled sound of shuffling, then a groan and a cough before Suguru is concealing his tears in your neck. 

Satoru exhales with relief, shoulders sagging as his eyes slide shut. He rubs a hand over Megumi’s back in the hopes the boy doesn’t see the fear slowly seeping from his father. 

Inside the bathroom, Suguru clutches your hand tight to his chest, squeezing it thankfully and burying his face in your neck as he bends over you. Blinking slowly, you huff a choked breath and shakily reach upwards to lay your palm over Suguru’s head. Tangling your fingers in the mess of loose, dark hair you sigh deeply through your mouth. It’s a relief to feel Suguru bent over you; his weight presses into your chest and grounds you as you come back to consciousness. Though you’re still dizzy and a bit panicked, the feeling is beginning to leech from your limbs like poison from a wound. 

Waking up was startling, and there’s a lingering sense of fear buzzing beneath your skin. It frightens you, and you clutch tightly onto Suguru with a tremble. The pain still twists in your stomach, but it’s nothing compared to how you felt before you passed out. 

“Suguru…” 

His name comes out in a sort of pleading cry, not unlike a frightened child, but you cannot help the way you long for his comfort. Tears leak from your eyes, another wave of salt that you find you cannot control. 

Suguru responds to your call with a sweet coo, pressing a wet kiss to the skin of your throat and rumbling deep within his chest to reassure you that he’s still there. Brushing your hair from your eyes, Suguru leans away to peck your temple and stare down at you with relief painted across his features. 

“You’re alright, honey. ‘S okay,” he whispers warmly, soothing the tension in your brow and brushing your tears away. When your eyes crack open, staring up at him with waning fear and confusion, Suguru huffs a laugh and smiles widely. “Hey, pretty girl.” 

 Your lips quiver upwards into a sort of sad smile, but Suguru is happy to see it despite the exhaustion in your features. Squeezing his hand, you look up at the dark-haired sorcerer as his hair falls into his eyes. 

“Wha’ happened?” 

Suguru looks over his shoulder, mouthing something you can’t hear, but you know he must be talking to Satoru. The muffled sound of his voice barely reaches your ears as you wade through the stream of your consciousness. You fight to keep Suguru in focus, and fortunately manage to cling to the waking world as sounds finally return to your senses. Something that sounds like “she’s alright, Toru,” rings through the bathroom, and then there’s the sound of Satoru replying but you can’t hear it. Your heart calls out for your other husband, and you squeeze Suguru’s hand in question. 

“You passed out, darling,” Suguru looks back down at you with a sad smile. He hushes you when you wiggle, trying to sit upright. “Careful, love, careful. You scared the shit out of me, you know?” 

Shooting him a sorry glance, you allow Suguru to gently lift you to a seated position every so slowly. He leans you against him, his thick thighs on either side of your hips as he lets you rest against his chest. You nod slowly as he delicately pulls your hair from your face and wraps his arms around you. 

“Sorry.”

Suguru shakes his head with a hum. 

“Don’t apologize, baby,” he whispers. “I’m just glad you’re awake. Are you feeling alright? How’s the pain?”

You slouch into his chest, wrapping your arms around your waist and nodding as your eyes slide shut. 

“‘S not so bad. Where’s Toru?”

Suguru’s heart clenches sweetly, feeling warmed by your desire for Satoru. He adores the two of you with his entire being, and watching both of you always strikes a fond chord within his chest.

“He’s taking care of Gumi,” Suguru murmurs, looking down at you with a lovesick expression you cannot see. When you sit up straighter, Suguru accommodates your position with a scooch of his hips and his arm falling into your lap. 

“Gumi’s awake?”

“Yeah,” your husband responds quietly. “I think he heard me shout when you fell. He came in a few minutes ago, and Satoru’s comforting him.”

Suguru sounds a little guilty when he mentions his outburst. He’s not embarrassed by any means; it was a cry shouted in overwhelming fear, so he feels no bashfulness for the tone of his voice. He does, however, feel guilty that he managed to wake his son in the process. 

“He’s worried about you, I think.”

We all are, he almost finishes. 

You sag into Suguru’s chest, weight sinking into the warmth of his bare skin as you slide your hand over the arm that is wrapped around you. Just as you begin to speak, Satoru peeks his head through the doorway. His body is twisted, obscuring Megumi’s view inside the bathroom. When he finds your gaze, Satoru visibly softens. 

“Hey, sweet girl,” Satoru rumbles, a fond smile spreading across his features. “You feeling alright?”

You nod tiredly, resting your head against Suguru’s clavicle.

“That’s good. We were really worried, honey.” 

Your sigh through your nose, trying to give him an apologetic look, but the fatigue is beginning to pull your eyelids downwards. Satoru’s gaze softens even further, if at all possible, and he continues. 

“Can Megumi come in? He’s worried about you,” Satoru reiterates his partner’s words, clearly holding the boy against his chest as he speaks. 

You’re about to nod, more than happy to cuddle with your son, when Suguru interrupts. Stroking a hand over your hip, the long-haired sorcerer hums. 

“Let us come out, love,” he responds, already beginning to shift you in his lap. “We can talk about this in bed. I think everyone’s a little tired right now.” 

You nod in agreement, feeling the ache of your muscles cry out for rest. Your arm trembles weakly when you lift your hand, and you frown at the lack of strength in your limbs. Suguru hushes you sweetly as he shifts you to sit upright as he stands. 

“You’re exhausted, baby. It’s normal.” 

Satoru murmurs his agreement on the other side of the doorway, already beginning to step away to set Megumi in the middle of your massive bed. He ensures the boy is comfortable as he stands upright, stretching his shoulders and turning to watch as Suguru hoists you up onto his hips slowly. Satoru figured he wasn’t going to let you walk after what happened the first time you tried. 

Suguru’s hand is carefully cradling your head and the other wraps beneath your hips, keeping you stable and pressed against his big frame. The sorcerer is incredibly strong from the years of exorcizing curses and teaching students, so carrying you to the bed, despite your muffled protests, is an easy venture. 

Setting you on the bed gently, you shift quickly to face Megumi as you lay back against the sheets. You nestle quickly into Suguru’s previous place in bed, already reaching out for your son as he nuzzles forward to latch onto your front. 

“Hey, hun,” you whisper kindly, brushing dark strands from Megumi’s eyes. “What’s going on, Gumi?”

The boy looks up at you, still clutching his Divine Dog plush, and frowns. Your head tilts in confusion, and you watch as Megumi makes himself comfortable in your arms, cuddling close to your stomach and closing his eyes. You don’t protest, heart warming sweetly as the boy snuggles close. He doesn’t usually cuddle like this, so you’ll take every opportunity to hug him as you can. 

“Dad said you’re feeling bad,” he mumbles into the stuffed dog now pressed between you. “‘M gonna make you feel better. Like you do when I’m sick.” 

You smile. Heart full, your eyes slide shut as you lean forward to press a gentle kiss to the tired boy’s forehead. He mumbles something else, but he’s fading fast. Soon he’s lost to slumber, and he snoozes peacefully in your embrace. 

“Thank you, Megumi,” you whisper as you press another soft kiss to your son’s forehead. Looking up at Satoru with tears brimming in your eyes, you find the white-haired sorcerer is already looking at you. There’s fondness spilling from his smile and a sweet gentleness in his expression, and he looks utterly lovesick. 

“Hey,” Satoru murmurs. 

“Hi.” 

The Six Eyes user steps away for a moment, nodding at Suguru who whispers that he’s going to step out to get you water and your medicine. Satoru knows he’s also going to check in on the girls, so he gives Suguru a smile and a peck on the cheek as he slides around the bed to your back. 

When Satoru climbs into the silken sheets, he immediately presses his bare chest into your back and wraps his strong arms around you and his son. Pressing his soft lips to the nape of your neck, he pulls you and Megumi into his chest as he relaxes. You feel the familiar tingle of Infinity wrap around you and smile tiredly. Satoru is always protecting you and your family. The technique easily wraps around you and Megumi in addition to Satoru, and you know the sorcerer will easily adapt it to cover Suguru soon too. 

That’s just Satoru; he’s always looking out for his family. 

When you sigh deeply and snuggle back into your husband, Satoru presses another gentle kiss to your neck and you feel him shake. 

“Toru?”

The man shivers again, and when you shift, turning slightly to see his face, your face crumples as you find tears leaking from Satoru’s eyes. He looks utterly relieved, but his mouth still twitches in a sad sort of way and his sky-blue eyes shimmer with salty tears. For all his silly teasing and childlike humor, Satoru rarely looks so… scared. He’s always so strong – the strongest. But there are truly rare circumstances in which Gojo Satoru is confronted with true fear. 

Circumstances in which he remembers how vulnerable his family can be. 

“Oh, Satoru…”

Satoru buries his face in your neck again, concealing his tears as he calms down. 

“I was so worried, baby. Oh my God,” he mutters into your skin. “I woke up and you were on the floor and Sugu was crying…” 

You pull his hands tighter around you, careful not to wake Megumi. Stroking gentle circles into the muscle of his forearms, you coo a soft sound to soothe him. 

“‘M alright now. Just a little bit of pain, it’s mostly gone.”

Satoru nods, clinging to your back as he finally grounds himself through the gentle touch of your fingers on his skin. He pulls you closer, seeming as though he’s trying to fuse his body to yours with how tight he binds himself to you. It’s the soft contact of your skin against his that soothes the beat of his heart and loosens the tension of his muscles. The tingly feeling that lingers on his skin where you press into him leaves trails of prickled nerves in their wake, as if physical contact between your bare skin incites a biological reaction beneath his flesh. 

With you in his arms, tightly wrapped in his embrace where he can feel the pulse of your heart against his chest, Satoru finds serenity. 

You’re here. And you’re safe. 

Satoru chews on his lip as he sighs. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers, tucking his chin into your neck and dropping a hand to rub his palm over the side of your stomach. It’s uncanny, you think, that he already knows exactly where it hurts without you mentioning it. Satoru pays far more attention than people give him credit for. “I’m sorry I can’t do anything more to take it away.” 

You shake your head, fatigued eyes closing as you focus on the feeling of Satoru’s big hands and the gentle circles he massages into you. 

Satoru continues in a voice uncharacteristically weak for the Strongest. 

“You were… alone and in pain,” he mumbles, guilt seeping into his tone as he frowns. “And I didn’t even know – we didn’t.” 

Satoru carefully pulls your hair away from your neck to press a kiss to your bare shoulder and then one more against the skin of your throat. He inhales a wave of your familiar scent and flutters his eyes closed as he sinks into your back. 

“I don’t want you to suffer alone, my love.” 

You stroke a contemplative finger over his arm, humming quietly as you shift Megumi in your arms. 

“Okay, Toru,” you whisper as you find the mirth in your exhausted figure to tease him. “You want me to wake you up at the ass crack of dawn when I’ve got cramps?” 

Satoru muffles a small chuckle into your neck and you enjoy the feeling of his chest shaking with the feeling. 

“Yeah, baby. Even then. Especially then.” 

You huff a breath of laughter through your nose, only stopping when you swiftly inhale as another cramp seizes your abdomen. It’s strong, but nothing like the ones you were having earlier. You can manage these. Satoru leans up on his elbow when you stiffen, lifting his other hand to check the hot water bottle Suguru had returned to your stomach. 

When Satoru pulls the bottle away, his brow furrows and he hisses when he finds faint hints of inflamed skin where you’ve pressed it too tight to your belly. It’s too hot and too close, he realizes. It’s burning you. 

Satoru nearly sits upright quickly, his frame leaning over yours as he gasps faintly. 

“Honey…” He’s on the verge of scolding you, but he sees the way you wince through another cramp and decides against it. Satoru looks back down at the hot water bottle and the way you clutch it tightly to combat the waves of throbbing in your belly. 

“This is burning you,” he states it obviously. 

“Hmm,” you respond in agreement. “Feels nice.” 

Satory looks down at you with pain in his features, face twisted into a frown and his crystalline eyes a shade duller. 

“Baby, it’s hurting you – How can…?” 

Satoru trails off. He thinks about how terribly you must have been aching to continue pressing something that was burning you into your skin. How agonizing were your cramps that the pain of the burn was comforting? 

Satoru lays back down, a frown on his lips as he wraps his arm back around you and lays his palm over the hot water bottle. If you’re going to keep it pressed into your skin, then he can make sure it doesn’t get too warm by leaving his hand against it.

“My god, baby… I’m so sorry,” he whispers. He can’t even comprehend how agonizing this must be for you. Satoru kisses your nape again. He apologizes again, and you almost miss the silly Satoru who would typically be teasing you right now. “I’m sorry I can’t do anything.” 

You yawn, finally feeling exhaustion begin to drag you beneath the slow, rocking waves of slumber. Pushing yourself deeper into your husband’s embrace and squeezing your son tight once more, you sigh out a few more words before you finally sink into sleep’s warm hands. 

“You are doing something,” you murmur, pulling his hand up to your mouth to kiss it tiredly. “You’re here, Satoru. I don’t think I can do this alone anymore.” 

When Suguru climbs back into bed on Megumi’s other side, he kisses the fond smile on Satoru’s lips and teases his partner about the stars in his eyes. The crystalline-eyed sorcerer refutes Suguru’s quip by reaching out to gently slap his bicep, but it’s all in mirthful adoration. Suguru leans over to press a tender kiss to your sleeping brow and then one to his son’s, before he settles behind Megumi and sighs contentedly. 

“She’s sleeping?” Suguru whispers, voice barely carried through the quiet night. He stares down at your face, the peaceful expression on your lips far more comforting than the limp, placid look of unconsciousness he remembers. Satoru watches his husband watch you, adoration swelling in his heart like an ebbing tide. Unbound by all but the moon, Satoru swears his heart only grows fonder each time he truly takes in his partners. 

“She’s sleeping,” he confirms sleepily, still staring up at Suguru with warmth in his chest. 

“Good.” 

Suguru’s response is sighed out thankfully, his shoulders deflating with the tension easing away from his muscle. He wraps his arms around Megumi and pulls himself closer to the boy, smiling when he easily cuddles into his father. Not often does Suguru have the opportunity to snuggle his son, so he eagerly grins as Megumi’s sleeping form curls near. 

“She’s early,” Satoru mentions plainly from across Suguru. “She wasn’t supposed to start until next week.”

The dark-haired sorcerer nods, recalling the date he marked in his phone. He and Satoru both kept track; it was easier that way. At this point, though, Suguru is certain he doesn't need his calendar to know these things. Your anniversary is ingrained in his memory, as is every one of your important dates. The three of you have spent more than a decade together, this kind of instinct was certain to develop at some point or another. 

“Yeah,” Suguru sighs. He twists slowly to glance tiredly at the clock on his bedside. “She took some painkillers at midnight, can you write that down? If she wakes again she can take some more.” 

Satoru nods, a hand already reaching for his phone on the nightstand behind him. It was second-nature to jot down the time you took medication. You always tried to keep track yourself, but sometimes noting the time slipped your mind, and you were left trying to recall the last time you took them. Satoru easily adds the time to his notes, and marks the date in his calendar to adjust your future schedule later. He checks that there’s still a bottle of your preferred painkiller in his nightstand drawer and a granola bar to eat when you take them. 

When he sets the phone down, he looks back over at Suguru, who sleepily stares down at your sleeping face. Nothing seems out of the ordinary, but Satoru can see where Suguru has slid his around yours, pressing two of his fingers into the pulse point of your wrist. 

He’s counting your heartbeats – making sure you’re still breathing. Because Suguru remembers the way you crumpled all too clearly. 

Sighing a shaking breath as he familiarizes himself with the gentle thump of your lifeline, Satoru slides a hand around you and his son, and he lays it across his lover with a sad smile. Suguru looks up with tired eyes, the dark bags beneath his lashes barely visible in the night hour. They match the ones beneath your eyes and probably Satoru’s too. 

“Hey,” Satoru mumbles. “She’s alright, Sugu.” 

Suguru nods, finally sinking into the mattress and pressing a final kiss to Megumi’s hair as he makes himself comfortable. Satoru does the same, delicately squeezing the hand still wrapped around yours and cradled sweetly at your chest. 

“We’re alright,” Suguru confirms, eyes finally sinking closed as he falls back asleep with part of his family in his embrace. “We’re alright.” 

In the morning, you awake to two Divine Dogs guarding the foot of your bed. The white one sits with its side pressed against the dark one, and both face the bedroom door. You awake alone in bed, but you can hear distant voices quietly chatting in the hall. The little pups’ ears are perked upwards, diligently listening to the conversation outside. 

When you sit up, the white one flips his head over his shoulder, happily sticking his tongue out in a joyful expression. He pants and his tail thumps against the floor as you beckon him closer. 

“Good morning, pup,” you laugh as it wiggles excitedly when you scratch behind his ears. The dark-coated one quickly follows soon after, eagerly joining his brother for scratches. “What are you two doin’ here?” 

The pups tilt their heads with that silly, tongue-out expression, as if communicating their eagerness. You stifle your laughter and carefully stand from the sheets, making your way into the kitchen with the dogs on your heels. 

When you enter the living space, you find Suguru on the couch with the twins on either side of his lap. They’re eagerly leaning over one of Suguru’s books, excitedly murmuring amongst themselves as their father reads aloud. It’s one of his novels, and you chuckle knowing that the girls were probably the ones to pick it out for him to read. 

Tsumiki is at the table, leaning over some kind of puzzle, and her brother is at her side. She looks up as you come in, offering you a gentle smile and a nod before she goes back to her puzzle. Megumi sits on his knees in the chair, spiky hair unkempt as always and a look of concentration on his face. 

Before you can speak, Satoru is pressed against your back, greeting you with a gentle hum.

“G’morning, sweetheart,” he coos, pecking your cheek and sliding a croissant into your hands and holding a glass of water in his other. “Eat up. You can take some medicine when you’re done.” 

He always makes sure you eat before you take your medicine. Your heart thumps happily beneath your ribs, and you smile in return, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips and thanking him. 

“Thanks, love.” 

Satoru hums and slides his free hand over your waist to squeeze your hip. He opens his mouth to say something, but the twins interrupt him. They gasp, standing from Suguru’s lap and eagerly racing over to greet you. 

Suguru chuckles, but still gently chides them as they race into the kitchen. 

“Careful!” 

Nanako and Mimiko crash into your hips with eager sounds, each grabbing you around the waist and crying out.

“Mama!” They cry worriedly, scrambling to hug you as they bury their faces in your legs. They start pushing you towards the couch with little hands, earnestly murmuring things you cannot make out. You look up at Satoru with a confused furrow of your brow, and your husband only chuckles and holds his hands up in a gesture of ‘i’ve got nothing to do with this.’ 

When you reach the couch, the girls scramble to make you sit beside Suguru, who is all too eager to wrap an arm around your shoulders to accommodate your arrival. 

“Good morning,” he hums as he pecks your temple. 

Nanako is already sliding a blanket into your lap as Mimiko climbs onto the couch, depositing herself at your side and snuggling into you. 

“Good morning,” you respond, watching with a fond smile as the girls make themselves comfortable in your lap. “What’s all this?” 

Suguru chuckles, reaching out to gently ruffle Nanako’s hair as she smiles. The girl looks up at her father with a beaming grin and snuggles closer to you when you wrap an arm around her to keep her stable. Your husband leans closer with a smile, murmuring quietly for only you to hear. 

“Megumi told them you were sick last night,” he fondly whispers. “I think it worried them.” 

Your head tilts in an expression of tenderness, and you give Suguru a knowing look before you lean down to kiss both your girls on the forehead. 

“Good morning, girls,” you rumble happily. “I’m alright, sweethearts. Megumi and your dads took very good care of me.”

Mimiko wiggles closer, snuggling into you and her sister with big, worried eyes. 

“Really?” her tiny voice murmurs. “Megumi-nii said you were hurting.” 

You can almost hear the pout in her voice without looking down at her. Giggling happily, you stroke a hand over her head and squeeze her close. 

“He even brought out his puppies!” Nanako quickly adds, squirming as he attempts to find the two Divine Dogs. “He said we couldn’t come in to see you because you needed to rest.” 

The two Shikigami have already returned to their owner, sitting on either side of Megumi’s chair with wagging tails and their tongues still sticking out. The boy is absentmindedly petting one while he focuses on the puzzle, shyly avoiding your gaze as if embarrassed. 

Your heart clenches sweetly again, and you turn to look at Satoru with a knowing smile. The sorcerer returns the look as he steps into the kitchen for your painkillers, ruffling Megumi’s hair as he goes. The boy lets out a muffled sound of discontent, but he doesn’t fix his messy strands. 

“Did he? That’s very sweet of him.” 

You and Suguru do not mention the faint pinkness of Megumi’s round cheeks. 

When you lean into Suguru’s side, the croissant in your hand warm like your lover’s body heat, you sigh happily. The cramps are a faint memory now, even though you know they’ll return soon. For now, you can savor the warmth of your family. 

“You’re taking the day off then, I suppose,” you look up at Suguru with an arched brow. Suguru smiles, leaning his head into yours to rest there. 

“Yeah,” he sighs, cuddling close to you and the twins. “We all are.” 

You suppose you can deal with the consequences of their unscheduled departure from work and school later… You’re far too warm and content now. When Satoru returns, sliding a glass of water into your empty hand and two painkillers into your other, he patiently waits as you take the pills. Then he sets the glass on the side table beside the mug of raspberry leaf tea he brewed for your cramps,  and then he eagerly dives into the limited space left on the couch. 

Scrambling into the twins’ space, Nanako and Mimiko giggle happily as Satoru presses kisses over their faces and squirms onto the couch. He plops Mimiko into his lap so he can sit at your side, laughing when the girls squeal happily. As you settle, you see Megumi look up from the table, shyly glancing away from his sister. Tsumiki gives him a knowing look as she climbs from her chair and eagerly walks over to Suguru. 

Suguru is too happy to allow her the tiny portion of space on his other side, and Tsumiki slides onto the couch, her side pressed tight to Suguru’s. She offers you a good morning and laughs when the twins attempt to squirm away from Satoru’s tickling fingers. 

Eventually Megumi stands from his place at the table, looking over at the couch as he debates something internally. A moment later, he stands in front of Suguru, shyly shifting on his feet as he looks at the only empty space on the couch. 

Megumi doesn’t need to say anything, because Suguru is already lifting the boy into his lap with a smile. Saving his son the embarrassment of shyly asking for the affection he usually avoids, Suguru chuckles as he deposits the last member of his family into his lap. 

“We could all use a day off,” he murmurs into your temple as he kisses you sweetly. 

You sigh happily, soaking in the warmth of the morning sun and the laughter of your family. 

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” 

The moment is only interrupted when Megumi’s Divine Dogs, only pups at this age, launch themselves onto the couch, eager to join the snuggles. The seven of you dissolve into laughter as you try to maneuver the excited puppies, and you can’t ask for anything else. 

“Megumi!” You laugh, trying to brush white dog hair from your face. “Control your summons!” 

The boy only laughs happily as the dark-coated puppy wiggles into his lap. 

No, he doesn’t think he will. 

bonus:

gojo, looking down at reader and geto: you're so cute and pretty

reader, sleepily: I could beat the shit out of you

geto, nodding along: she could

gojo, lovingly: I know

a/n: no I am not back to writing just yet :')) I wrote this in a pain induced haze while having some terrible cramps so if you have terrible periods like me, this one is for you! this is purely based on my experience with cramps, and everyone is different, but I just wanted to write something for me :") I've never passed out but I've felt like it and I know it's super scary so I hope this can provide some comfort for you if you need it <3

ALSO this was written as comfort for jjk 236 :'))) bc everyone in this fic deserved better and I refuse to acknowledge canon

[haeryna]

the purest shade of white ↪ okkotsu yuuta x reader ⸙͎｡˚⋆ 𓋼

summary: yuuta looks almost like an angel, you think to yourself grimly, as you shift on the balls of your feet. you haven't seen your best friend in a couple years now, not since he left for africa. too bad he's attempting to kill the kouhai that you're trying to protect.

tw: manga spoilers! anime watchers, do not read. mild angst but happy ending. starts at the beginning of ch. 139. naoya zenin is here and he is his classic asshole self. reader is in the same grade as yuuta, both in age and in terms of cursed energy. swearing because reader is a bad bitch. mildly suggestive. unironic use of "senpai" and "kouhai." slight descriptions of blood and injury, everyone is subjected to the author's attempts at writing dialogue and fight scenes. not proofread but at this point that shouldn't be a surprise. it is blatantly obvious that the writer also does not know how to end stories

notes: thank you for 100 new friends! :) poll is technically still up but i'm impatient and yuuta was winning by a pretty decent margin so here it is lol. divider by @/saradika-graphics!

"Yuuji!" you yelp, slicing the head off a curse with a clean stroke of your katana. Purple ichor splatters to the ground as you whirl, searching for the familiar head of pink hair. "Stay close to me!"

Behind you, Choso grunts with exertion, sending out another bolt of Piercing Blood. Panting, you weave through the curses, letting their corpses fall behind you. Yuuji, where is Yuuji?

As the last body falls, you can't but let out an exasperated huff at the sheepish grin on Yuuji's face. "Don't scare me like that," you chide. "How am I supposed to protect you if I can't even find you?" Yuuji opens his mouth to protest but you shake your head. "I made a promise," you tell him, pain rippling through your heart dully. Gojo-sensei was long gone, stolen away by one of the people he had loved most in the world. Grimacing, you sheathe your katana, mindful of the blood that stains your palms, as you try to ignore the memory of his words all those months ago.

If anything happens, I need you to protect Itadori Yuuji. I know they're going to pull something on him once I'm not there to back him up.

"Senpai, what should-"

Yuuji immediately tenses as your hand flies to the grip of your katana. "I smell a rat," you mutter, nose wrinkling as you turn to face Naoya Zenin, standing atop a bridge. He bares his teeth at you in semblance of a smile. "How perceptive as always," he mocks.

"Cut the bullshit," you snap, hand still resting on the pommel. "What do you want?"

"Fushiguro Megumi," is his rather bland response, and you shift your feet into the opening steps of Flowing River.

"What do you want with Fushiguro?" Yuuji yells, and the way Naoya's face twists makes you want to vomit.

"I think I'll have him die."

Cursed energy fills your body as you leap. Naoya's resounding cackle burns through your ears as you swing, barely grazing his shoulder. Before you can push forward off your feet, a heavy presence rests on your shoulders, locking you in place. All four of you freeze. Yuuji and Choso look horrified, and Naoya looks as though he's broken out into a cold sweat. But you know this feeling, feel it settle back into your body as if it never left.

Okkotsu Yuuta steps out from the building ledge, dark eyes unreadable. Your body sings. Yuuta, Yuuta, Yuuta! His hair has grown longer, bangs sweeping over his forehead, eyebags a little darker than they used to be. You can feel Rika's presence, swirling around you in a mass of death and decay. You're used to it. You've grown to crave it, even. His eyes meet yours, and for a split second, his facade cracks. Confusion, fear, and...regret?

Yuuta leaps, slamming into concrete and sending shockwaves deep into your bones. "Who's with Itadori?" God, even his voice is different, so different from the boy who said goodbye to you so long ago. You open your mouth to speak, but Choso beats you to it, brows furrowed.

"So you're Yuuji's executioner."

Blood turns to ice in your veins, and you can tell by the pained expression Yuuta has that you aren't hiding your emotions as well as you think you are. Naoya laughs. "I was going to tell you that, but you were being too emotional like the bitch you are."

"Who're you?"

Yuuta's voice is cold, but as Naoya babbles on, you can feel the horror settle thickly into your chest. Choso and Yuuji are talking behind you but it feels like you're underwater, you're sinking, drowning, and Yuuta must have come to a conclusion because all of a sudden he's surging forward-

You move before you can even think, steel clashing against steel. "Yuuji," you say, through gritted teeth. "Run."

A horrible grating noise fills the air as you let cursed energy flow through your body, shoving Yuuta's sword away from yourself. "I won't let you kill him," you hiss, body already shifting into Jagged Bolt. Yuuta's eyes flash as you surge forward, katana in hand.

"How would you describe my cursed technique?" you had asked Gojo, mindlessly swinging your feet. Gojo hums.

"Have you ever heard of Newton's Law's of Motion?"

You had crinkled your nose at that. "No?"

"An object in motion, stays in motion. Except you are the object. And your cursed energy is the motion." You remember how Gojo's lips curved slightly. "In other words, once you start, nobody can stop you."

You're crying, you realize with a start, as you cut a line into Yuuta's chest. Moisture seeps from your eyes as you twist your forearm into a parry, katanas sparking with each strike. Belatedly, you sense that Yuuji, your foolish, stupid, loyal kouhai has stayed, trading strikes with his fists between the precise movements of your blade. Your heart drops as Yuuta reaches for the ring on his finger.

No. No!

He twists it, and Rika appears behind you. Claws sink into your shoulder and you let out a cry of pain as she flips you into the ground.

"Be nice, Rika," Yuuta chides, as you hit the concrete. Blood spurts from your mouth as you choke, fingers clawing at the ground desperately for your katana. A piece of scaffolding is practically crushing your legs; instinctively, you know that if you try to break through it, you'll tear your limbs right off.

As Rika holds Yuuji up, you lunge desperately, uncaring of what you have to sacrifice. Inumaki's arm, the way half of Nobara's face had been practically ripped out of her skull, the remains of Nanami-san, the way that you were the one to find Maki's charred body-

I can't lose anyone else.

You scream as Yuuta pierces Yuuji's chest with his katana, cursed energy building in your legs as you prepare to shoot forward. Yuuta turns, eyes filled with an unidentifiable emotion as he sees you about to tear yourself in half just to reach Yuuji.

With a wave of his hand, Rika dives for you, and everything goes dark.

Yuuta had known you were special from the day he'd first met you. That spring, when Gojo-sensei had dropped him (and Rika) into a class of unsuspecting first years, he remembers that out of the four of them, you had moved so gracefully that he hadn't processed the katana in your hand until you'd pressed it against your throat.

"Gojo-sensei," you'd hissed. "What is this?"

While Maki, Inumaki, and Panda had been subsequently bruised up by Rika, you had dodged every single one of her movements until Rika had been (barely) called back by Yuuta.

"Another Special Grade," Gojo had hummed. "Just like you, hm?"

Special Grade?

What he hadn't realized then, he realized later; you weren't just special to him, but to the entire rest of the Jujutsu World as well. Special Grade Sorcerers were rare, Maki had told him. "You only have it because of Rika," she'd scoffed, "but she deserves it."

You quickly became one of his closest friends. You were fast enough to dodge Rika's ire, even laughing whenever she tried. You'd shown Yuuta kindness that he didn't think he deserved. You broke him out of his shell enough so that when he left for Africa, he felt as though he was standing with his own strength. His first katana had been the sister blade of your own, forged from the same metal by the same hands. The way your eyes had lit up when you saw it was a memory he cherished.

Somberly, Yuuta eyes the chains encasing your wrists and ankles, each decorated with the slips of protective paper that would nullify your cursed energy. Most sorcerers required only one. You required at least twenty.

He knows you, knows the way you always take the strawberry daifuku, leaving him the red bean ones even though he knows you prefer the red bean. He knows that you push yourself hard, harder than he's ever seen anyone work. But most of all, he knows your loyalty, how once your heart finally lets someone in, you'll never let them go.

Did you miss him like he missed you?

The chains are more for your own protection. He needs you to hear him out before you attempt to end his life for a second time. Yuuta knows now that Gojo must have asked you the same thing he'd asked him; to keep Itadori Yuji safe from the whims of the higher ups. Gojo, being the forgetful bastard he was, probably didn't alert you to the fact that he'd gone to Yuuta for help as well. Crouching, Yuuta eyes your body with a sad tilt of his lips. The injuries you'd sustained were immense, and it had taken quite a bit of his own cursed energy to reverse.

Will you forgive him?

You're asleep, breath hitching every so often. Yuuta wonders what you're dreaming of, before pushing the thought away. Tenderly, he cups your face in the palm of his hand, calloused fingers stroking your cheek.

"You need to wake up now," he murmurs, as your eyes flutter open, first in dazed confusion, before sharpening into panic.

"I'll miss you!" you'd cried, as you clung to Yuuta under the shade of the large oak. You were the first person he had told about his departure to Africa, and you took it hard. Yuuta had stood frozen as the first of your tears had dripped down your cheeks. It was the first time he'd seen you cry.

"I'll be back before you know it," he'd murmured, pressing a featherlight kiss to the top of your head. You'd looked up to him, eyes teary.

"Promise?"

"I promise," he'd said, interlocking his pinky with your own. A love like Yuuta's is a dangerous thing, you know, but in this moment you feel nothing but safe.

The first sensation you feel upon awakening is the dull ache in your (miraculously still attached) legs. The second is the warmth on your cheek. Yuuta is standing above you, hand gently resting against your face. Immediately you lunge forward, teeth bared. The rattle of chains stops you, and you swear. Of course he would have taken precautions. Yuuta looks almost hurt as you violently shake off his touch.

"Don't touch me, I swear to god I'm going to rip you apart."

Yuuta says your name sadly, but you're practically trembling with rage.

"He was just a kid, with the kind of power we wield, why the fuck would you listen to the higher ups?"

Yuuta echoes your name a bit more firmly, but you ignore him, tears building in your eyes.

"You're no better than the rest of them are you, you're just-"

"Senpai!"

Your heart stops as Yuuji pokes his head out from around the corner. They must have brought you back to Jujutsu Tech, you think distractedly. Just how long were you out?

"Yuuji!" you cry out, scanning his body for any injuries. He seems to be uninjured, but most importantly, he's alive. Tears fall down your cheeks. "Are you alright?"

Yuuji appears horrified by the sudden outburst as he hastily holds up his hands. "I'm fine, senpai, really, I'm sorry for worrying you. Okkotsu-san is actually on our side, I swear! It was a binding vow, that's why he had to actually kill me, but he did some really cool Reverse Technique shit and I'm all good now!"

Warily, you eye Yuuta, whose expression resembles that of a kicked puppy. "Okkotsu Yuuta," you say, voice hard. "Let me out of these chains right fucking now."

With a wave of his hand, the papers attached to the chains fall to the floor. Yuuta looks dejected as he looks away from you. "I'm so sor-"

Before he can finish you immediate tackle him into a hug, knocking the both of you into the floor as you bury your face into the soft slope of his neck. "You're such an idiot," you sob, unable to hide the rush of emotions going through you. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Tentatively, Yuuta wraps his arms around you, and you melt, pressing yourself closer to his body. "To be honest, I think Gojo-sensei is to blame. I think he forgot to mention to either of us that he asked us to do the exact same thing."

You let out a hiccupping laugh. "Of course he did. That forgetful asshole."

The sigh Yuuta lets out is shaky as he nuzzles the top of your head. "I'm so, so sorry," he tells you earnestly. "I must have scared you, and Rika's mad at me for making me hurt you like that. I think she likes you, even though she pretends not to."

You look up at him, really look at him, and see the look of adoration in his eyes as he stares back down at you. Thankfully Yuuji's escaped long ago, most likely understanding that you two would need privacy. "You came back," you whisper, and Yuuta's resulting smile makes your heart skip a beat.

"I promised you, didn't I?"

Before you can stop yourself, you pull Yuuta down for a searing kiss. He's so soft, and you nip at the plush of his bottom lip teasingly, pulling a whine from his throat. His large hands grip your hips, and in retaliation, you grab a fistful of his hair and tug. The breathy noise he makes goes straight between your thighs. You know he can feel your smile against his lips.

"I missed you," you breathe, pulling away. Yuuta looks dazed, lips kiss swollen, pupils so dilated that you can barely see the soft brown of his eyes.

"I love you," he blurts out, and your resulting laugh is airy as you press another chaste kiss to his lips.

"I've always loved you, Yuuta," you admit. "During Shibuya, I thought I wasn't going to make it. You were the only thing keeping me going."

The look in his eyes is fierce as he tugs you back into him, enveloping you in his arms. "You'll never have to worry about that again. You have my entire life. Where you go, I'll follow, and if I die, not even Death would be able to separate me from your side."

"Those sound a lot like wedding vows, don't you think?"

Yuuta's blush covers his entire face and you grin, pressing one last kiss to his lips. "Come on now. We have kids we need to protect."

As Yuuta leads you to where the others have convened, even under the dark circumstances you're in, the warmth of his hand clutching yours fills you with a giddiness you hadn't experienced in months. The sentiment is quickly dashed as soon as Maki opens her mouth.

"Fucking finally. Inumaki owes me 3,000 yen."

[luveline]

Hey!! I love love LOVE your criminal minds content so much, especially the Hotch with unexpected daughter reader. Is there any chance you’re gonna write more for that series? I’d literally take anything, the comfort vibes are off the charts with your works and I need some Hotch comfort. But no worries if not, hope you have a great week <33

thank you for requesting! fem, 1.4k

Jack peers at you from over the furthest armrest. “Y/N. Are you grumpy?” 

“Do I look grumpy?” you ask. 

“Yes.” He pokes his eyebrow. “You do.” 

“My face is betraying me then, because I’m not grumpy.” 

“Mine does that to me all the time but mom doesn’t believe it.”

You give him a small nudge. “Your mommy probably knows you better than you know yourself, like, knows how you’re feeling before you do.” 

“But how does she know?”

“I think it’s because she loves you. She really loves you, babe. You’re lucky.” 

“So lucky.” He climbs over the armrest and onto the couch, smiling at you politely, like a friend he’s just found at school. 

You try to see the similarities in your faces. He looks more like Haley than he does Aaron. You look more like your mother, too. There are bits of Aaron in both of you, yours not quite as physical —Jack’s tame when it comes to expressing emotion, and you both talk in a measured tone. (Though your tone is coincidence or genetics, but not learned. You’d have to have known him growing up for it to be learned.) 

“Did dad tell you what mommy said?” Jack asks. 

You glance over his head but see no one. Aaron said he was going to get chips for movie night, and Haley tends to find things to do. “No.” 

“It’s a secret.” 

“Well, you don’t have to tell me.” 

“You can’t tell anyone,” he says. 

Your stomach feels not your own. “I won’t,” you promise. 

“Mommy says you’re here too much.” 

You nod slowly. Jack frowns at you as though waiting for you to be upset, but you’ve suspected she thinks so for a while. It’s not something you blame her for. 

Jack watches you. 

“Dad got really mad.”

“I’m sorry, Jack. That must’ve been scary.” 

Jack drops his face into your arm. “No. Dad doesn’t yell. But he slept in my room with me.” 

“Want a hug?” you whisper. 

Jack squirms under your arm. You pull him toward you and try to divide your feelings into boxes. Embarrassed and horrified and a little annoyed that Haley thinks you’re here too much. Sad and again embarrassed that Aaron defended you. 

This is Haley’s house, and she never signed up for you. She’s never made you feel unwelcome but that doesn’t mean she wants to see you every Saturday. You're a huge new wedge inserted in their married lives, and now you’re affecting Jack, making his parents argue.  

“I’m sorry,” you say, suddenly flooded by a wave of hot, awkward regret. 

You knew when you found out that Aaron was your father that you would change his life. You’ve always hoped it would be for the better, but maybe it isn’t. 

“Jack…” you say. What is it about hugging him that makes you feel like crying? “I’m real sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen.” 

“It’s not your fault. I like you here. You’re fun.” 

“Thanks, Jack.” 

He looks up at you. “Will you stop coming over?” 

“I guess it’s up to your mommy.” You falter. “Jack?”

“What?” 

“I’m sorry if having a new sister isn’t as fun as you thought it would be. I don’t want to make things harder for you, but I guess I did.” 

“Mom says everything is hard now.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek in efforts to hide how you’re feeling. “I’m sorry. Um, listen, can I have a big hug? I just remembered I have to go help my mom at home.”

“You’re leaving?” 

“Sorry, Jack.” 

Jack gives you a hug. You gather your things and rush to the door to shove your shoes on, but your dad catches you before you can leave. 

“Where are you going?” Aaron asks, his smile falling.

“I–” He makes you nervous, and you know your stammer gives you away. “I forgot I had to do the laundry for my mom tonight, if I don’t do it she’ll be mad for days.” 

“I’m sure you can make it up to her tomorrow,” he suggests gently.

“I better go.”

“Honey, what’s really going on?”

“The laundry is really going on,” you say, unconvincing. “I have to go, I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay. Well, I’ll see you on–”

You open the door before he can finish or offer a hug, image of him in his loose t-shirt carrying a tray of sandwiches burned into your guilty conscience. 

—

You don’t see Aaron for three weeks before he corners you. You owe your great avoidance to his busy job, but it didn’t feel good to reject him, to refuse to make time for him as he does for you. 

“You!” he says, clearly kidding but not entirely where he’s waiting outside of your university building. “Beautiful young woman in the blue! I have some questions for you.” 

It’s so absurd for him that you immediately burst into shy laughter. “Dad, what?” you ask, hiding your face. 

Classmates part around you, seemingly unperturbed. 

Aaron retrieves his badge. “See this? I could detain you, but I won’t if you come quietly. In fact, if you don’t argue I’ll buy you lunch.” 

“You’d buy my lunch regardless.” 

He grabs you. Kindly, but grabbing all the same, like he’s worried you’re about to scarper. “Where have you been hiding?” he asks, giving you a quick hug. You feel tenseness in his arms you're unused to, hear a sadness in his voice that makes your throat burn. 

Putting a table between you helps marginally. Aaron pretends he doesn’t know why you’ve been avoiding him and the Hotchner house, and you’re more than happy to go along with it, until. 

“I have something to tell you,” he says. 

You press against a piece of soaked fruit with your spoon. “Okay.” 

“Haley and I are probably going to separate.” 

You bite your tongue so hard it makes you flinch, spoon scratching the bottom of your bowl. “What?” 

“We’ve been having problems ever since Jack was born.” 

You stare. 

Aaron is very still. He talks carefully. Not without emotion, but stilted, perhaps. “I’m not as good a father as I wish I were. And Haley sees that. Sweetheart, I haven’t ever wanted to burden you with the, uh, less than happy details of my life. I think you’ve suffered me enough. But I’m telling you because I know Jack told you about my most recent argument with Haley.” He smiles at you. “Honey, we fight too much. That day, it was about you, but it’s not all about you, and she doesn’t… Haley’s a good woman. She is. I’ve changed her life a hundred different ways and she hasn’t had many choices, and she…” Something vulnerable crops up, a wavering in his breath. “Sometimes I think she isn’t fair. She holds me to standards I can’t reach, no matter how hard I try, but we’ve stopped arguing about it so much recently, and I’m afraid that that’s… the death knell.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say softly. 

“I’m going to keep trying. I don’t want to lose her.” He drinks what’s left of his soda and presses his napkin under the edge of his plate. “But I won’t lose you, you know? I just want you to understand that you’re not the problem, and you never could be.” 

“I don’t want to add another thing to your levy, dad,” you say, still soft. 

“Meeting you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Well, tied with your brother, of course. You aren’t a thing to be added to anything, you’re my daughter, and Haley might not like it but my home will always have a place for you.” 

What if that’s the problem? From his perspective, you’re not a hindrance to his marriage so much as a separate issue, but from your own, it sounds like you’re just making things worse. 

You’ve missed him, though, and you can’t argue that his reassurances aren’t working. 

“It’s not that Haley doesn’t like you,” he adds, reaching for your hand, “more that she’s unhappy. I’m sorry that that’s something you had to carry.” 

You often think to yourself that Aaron talks like he’s telling a story. He’s so calm and steady, the same as the feeling of his thumb on your wrist. 

“I’m sorry I stormed out.” 

“I wouldn’t call that storming out,” he says. “You’re too quiet sometimes. I wish you’d be upset out loud.” 

“I just don’t want you to fight about me.” 

“Honey,” —he holds your eyes, giving your wrist a gentle squeeze— “I’m always gonna fight for you. That’s what fathers do.”

[dbphantom]

Titus: WHAT are you!!!!!

Celor, actively sobbing: an accountant?

[ddejavvu]

Hii hope you’re doing well, I was wondering if I could request a criminal minds blurb where reader is Penelope’s best friend and they’ve met for lunch in a cafe near Quantico, and reader is telling Penny about this new guy she hooked up with a few nights ago, reader tells Penny how big the guy was and then a few minutes later Spencer walks in and reader is like “P omg that’s the guy!!” And gestures towards Spencer who’s the only person ordering at the counter? I just feel like Penny would be equal parts both shocked and horrified that her sweet innocent boy Spence has a sex life but also that he’s HUNG?? I literally love you and all your Spencer works and I feel like you’d write this perfectly 🫶🫶

this post is 18+, minors dni.

Penelope is absolutely enraptured by the play-by-play you're murmuring to her over the low din of the cafe's patronage. The whirring and grinding of the machines behind the counter only further aid in your attempt to keep your conversation private, and you can smell sweet strawberries on the bubbly blonde when you lean in to give her details.

"And he reached for his fly- ooh, Penny, the way his arms looked," You gush, remembering the thick veins that had corded his bone while he'd wrestled with his belt, "He whipped his belt out of the way, and- stop!" You urge her when she wriggles her brows at you, "He took his pants off, Penny, and I swear to god I've seen thighs thinner than that dick."

Her resulting squeal is much less hushed than you'd managed to keep the rest of your conversation, and you swat at the arm that's not holding her coffee. She gets the message but resorts to stamping her feet beneath the table instead, a repeated clicking that blends in much better with the mechanical whirring of the baristas' handiwork.

"He was so thick, and Jesus- Penny, he was long, too, just big all around," You recall, insides throbbing with a phantom ache at the memory of what you'd taken last night, "I swear he had me seeing stars," You sigh, glancing down at the pale pink ring of lip gloss around the mouth of your cup, "I'd beg him to come over again tonight, but I think I need a week to recover."

"A week," She breathes dreamily, "I could barely feel the last guy I had."

"Oh, I could feel him," You laugh, "It's like I still can, I'm pretty sure he bruised- oh fuck!"

"What?" Penelope's brow dips instantly, concern etched into her pretty features, "What's wrong?"

"It's him," You grip her hand, nails digging into her skin, "It's the guy from last night!"

"Big dick dude?" She asks, and your frantic nod confirms her theory.

She tries to be subtle, bless her, when she turns to see him, but when the only person that she sees standing in line for a drink is her coworker, her brain chugs along slower than normal.

Where's big dick dude?

Oh, Spencer's here!

I don't see big dick dude.

Spencer is-

You're not sure even the most talented actor could ever recreate the sheer horror swimming in her gaze when she turns to face you again. Her eyes are blown wide and her mouth, lined in a pretty fuchsia paste, is downturned in a grimace.

"Please tell me you're not talking about the skinny mess in the sweater vest."

"That's exactly who I'm talking about!" You gush, trying to avoid his gaze lest he thinks you're trying to follow him around, "Penny, isn't he dreamy?"

"That's- oh my god," She recalls your descriptions, thicker than thighs, longer than you've ever seen, "I have to resign."

[aireia]

pretty. — shopping for your wedding gown went a little wrong.

tw/cw: tooth rotting fluff, not proofread, fluff/crack, reader wears a dress + satoru calls them his future wife —masterlist

you smile and place your palms under your chin, wondering how you got to this point. your snowy haired fiancé is currently twirling around with a custom tailored wedding gown… which he wasn’t going to be wearing on your wedding day anyway, because he would never hear the end of it from his first year trio. okay, yuji probably wouldn’t have said anything, but nobara and megumi would bully him out of his own wedding. without a doubt, 100 percent.

your mind tried running through the events that had unfolded over the past two weeks, finally stopping at where everything started.

-

“pretty.” 

those were the only words that satoru gojo had to say the moment the both of you had found the perfect wedding dress for you. detailed right down to the final bits of the dress, it matched you perfectly with your favourite flowers weaved into the design, just the perfect length… it was everything you were looking for.

the sound of your soft laughter brought him out of his awestruck expression. “thank you, but as much as i love it, it feels just a little uncomfortable.” you sounded a little disappointed, and satoru couldn’t help but notice every little shift and movement you made… especially that mischievous look in your eyes and grin plastered on your face the moment you thought of a ‘solution.’ 

“maybe you should be the one in a dress at our wedding. i’m sure the strongest can handle a little bit of discomfort.”  

now, you and gojo had known each other for probably more than a decade. he knew better than anyone else that you were joking. but you were basically challenging him with that last sentence, right? 

he abruptly stood up from the couch he was sitting on once you had gotten to changing out of the wedding gown before marching off to one of the nearby employees and asking about any dresses his size, only to be met with the response of, “this is an unusual request, but there are quite a few dresses that would compliment you-” the employee coughed a few times before continuing, “-but we are closing soon, so there might not be enough time to try them on-” 

“i'll take all of them.”

“pardon?”

“including the one my future wife chose. okay thanks!”

the total came up to about 1.2 million yen. for a dress for you and those 3 gowns the employee picked out, it horrified everyone present at the counter. everyone but him, of course. 

back to present time, that’s how you found yourself being the one and only audience member for your beloved’s fashion show. for a good reason, you wanted to chew him out for spending that recklessly. then again, this is the same guy who decides to buy two of the same items no matter how expensive it is “just in case the other one goes missing.”

you sigh softly before turning your attention back onto him. he’s currently trying on the final dress, and has finally got rid of the sunglasses. you can’t help but admit that he actually looks good in the dress, sparkling with all the right types of gems and jewels, paired with his now visible long eyelashes, he looks pretty. 

“so? how do i look!!?” satoru asks with enthusiasm, spinning around you in circles. 

“hmm, maybe i should be the one wearing your suit that day instead,” you jokingly say to him. he understood, laughing before ruffling your hair. 

“as if i’d let you.” a comfortable silence filled the air afterwards, being broken afterwards by satoru confessing, “i dream of seeing you wearing that in front of me at the altar, you know?”

your eyes at this. you weren’t expecting him to say something like that so sudden. 

“i can wear it at night when-” satoru’s sentence was cut off by a light punch to his gut. 

“hell no.”

by user @ aireia, do not plagiarize and/or translate.

@rninies still can't write fluff unfortunately, writing this fried my brain